Chapter Text
The camp had been set up, and everyone was bedding down for the night. Everyone except Katara. She’d been keeping apart ever since she and Zuko got back, though Sokka could tell she was no longer angry. Or at least as angry as she had been. But something was still wrong.
Now she sat some distance outside camp, a dark figure against the shades of evening and the first stars. Sokka gave the tent rope one last tug to make sure it was secure and quietly approached his sister.
“Hey…you okay?”
She nodded. Sokka came to her side and sat down. “Did you find the guy?”
Katara sighed in disgust and shook her head a little. “I mean, yeah, I did. But he was pathetic.” She gave a bitter laugh. “He offered his own mother up to me, said I could take my revenge on her. He said that was fair.”
“Sounds like he’s more messed up than we thought,” Sokka remarked. But Katara didn’t laugh. Her gaze was fixed on the ground before her knees, a troubled and sad look on her face.
“A life for a life,” she whispered harshly. “It’s not fair at all.”
She lifted a hand and pulled drops of dew from the grass and formed a small water bubble. She flexed her fingers, and a thin stream of water spun out of the bubble, and then the water separated into droplets once more. Katara let them fall back on the grass. “That man…he said he was hunting waterbenders,” she said flatly.
“Yeah…that’s the whole reason the Fire Nation kept attacking,” Sokka said. He frowned. “Katara—"
“There was only one left in the whole Southern Water Tribe.” Katara sighed and pressed her palms to her forehead, shutting her eyes. “It was me. I was the last waterbender. And Mom lied about it. She told him…she told him she was the last waterbender.”
Sokka stared at his sister. He began to understand what she was getting at, but he could not believe it. “Katara, you’re not—you can’t think--!”
“She lied about it to protect me!” Her voice broke, and she looked up, eyes blazing and filled with tears at the same time. “You know the truth, Sokka!”
“Katara!” Sokka faced her and put both hands on her shoulders.
“Mom is dead—because of me!” Katara’s expression crumpled suddenly, and she buried her face in her hands and bent almost double, sobbing.
Sokka’s heart nearly broke. He pulled his sister to his shoulder, wrapping his arms around her. He swallowed hard; he suddenly couldn’t trust his own voice. But he had to comfort her. He somehow steadied himself, somehow found the courage of Dad, and found himself a bit surprised at his calm, level tone. “No, Katara. That man who killed her—it’s his fault. And Mom…” his voice faltered suddenly, and he lowered his tone. “Mom made her choice because she loved you. She wanted to protect you. Dad would have done the same,” he added in a whisper.
Katara slipped her arms around him and clutched him, resting the side of her head against his shoulder. Her voice still wobbled, thick with sobs. “You were able to rescue Dad from prison,” she whispered. She shut her eyes, tears running down her cheeks. “But I can’t do anything to bring Mom back.”
Sokka shook his head. “It’s not your fault, okay?” He tightened his hold and rested his cheek on the top of her head. “It wasn’t your fault, Katara. I’ve never thought that. Dad doesn’t think it either. I promise.”
Katara buried her face in his shoulder, her body shaking with sobs. Sokka tightened his hug but grimaced in disgust at himself. It had never occurred to him that Katara might blame herself, but he could have kicked himself for not connecting the dots. He’d blamed himself for Dad’s capture—duh, because it was the direct result of his own decision. But Katara didn’t do anything, couldn’t help being a waterbender. Only maybe…maybe that was worse. A mistake could be fixed, but she couldn’t make herself stop being a bender any more than he could make himself become one.
He glanced up—and started a bit to see Zuko, standing motionless a short distance away. He frowned, wondering how much his friend had heard.
Zuko came quietly forward and knelt behind Katara. He set a hand on her back.
“I’m sorry, Katara,” he murmured. He added suddenly, “I understand.”
Before Sokka could inquire about this or do more than raise his eyebrows, Zuko had stood up and was gone.
Sokka returned his attention to his sister. Katara had loosened her grip a little, and her sobs seemed to have dwindled, but she still clutched him, shaking. He looked down at her sadly. What he’d told Toph earlier was true: he really couldn’t remember what their mother looked like. It was always Katara’s face he could see. Katara who mended his clothes, usually without complaining, and reminded him to eat, take breaks, get some sleep, when it was time for a haircut. Reigned in his impulses (some of which weren’t as bad as she thought, but the point was that she cared). Kept him from taking himself too seriously. She’d stepped into the role her family needed, and it had never really occurred to him that Katara had simply become what she so badly needed.
Before he could say anything or berate himself for this new failure to pay attention to his sister’s needs, Katara sat up, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. She gave a shaky smile. “Thanks, Sokka.” She let out a breath and looked at him sadly. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” she murmured. “That…that you didn’t love Mom the way I did.” She shut her eyes with a sigh and bowed her head. “I’m so sorry.”
A relief that he hadn’t known he’d wanted filled Sokka. He quickly put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay.” He shrugged. “We all deal with things differently, and you were upset.”
Katara gave another small smile. She flung herself forward suddenly and wrapped her arms around his neck. Sokka quickly hugged her again.
“Thanks, Sokka,” she murmured, her voice muffled by his shoulder. “Thanks for letting me go—and for understanding—and for being here.”
Sokka gently thumped her shoulder and gave a smile of his own. “Sure thing, little sis.”