The words never said

I am no hero, once again

Zuko

I should have killed him.

I should have killed the monster. Made the demon pay for his sins.

We are walking under a worsening storm, the ice-cold watery spears sting against my skin.

They are quick to become heavy drops, crashing angrily against the ground and performing a discordant symphony between each other, the world appears to reduce itself to diluted colors and a dark, petite silhouette moving significantly ahead of me.

Katara.

She hasn't turned to me since we stepped away from Yon Rha.

She's close to running, even now that we are far enough from the pathetic old man's whining; I watch with concern her dangerously long strides over the slippery ponds of mud.

Her back is unnaturally straight as she walks, her entire body nearly visibly vibrates with restrained power. She marches with her head high, stubbornly refusing the appearance of defeat, but consenting the wounding drops to beat her mercilessly. Her shadow quickly becomes more and more distant, advancing with erratic moves that make her swing in her steps.

I rush to her side when I hear her scream, slipping against a tree.

"Katara, are you okay?"

My hand reaches for her shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Her voice is a pained howl at the mere contact – it ruptures the soundwave of the rain hitting the earth – and she turns to me with a gaze made of shattered ice. "Never touch me!"

Katara's sapphire-blue eyes are ill-defined, looking in all directions and none at once. They pass through without looking directly at me; static and cold, but uncontrolled and savage.

"We should have never come..." For a moment, her face and voice lower with fear. It quickly morphs into rage. "We should have never come! This is your fault! It's all your fault!"

Her shrill screams are painful to the ears, like the sound of claws over glass. Her entire expression is drawn in stirringly sharp lines of pain. And her eyes...

"Your fault! Everything is your fault!"

"Katara..."

The words die in my throat at the mention of her name. I can't talk. I can't move.

I stare at Katara and she stares back at me, I can hear the sound of both our heavy breaths over the rain. She looks like she is encircled by a dark spirit. A dirtily black fog of grief. I feel...

I feel...

A disgustingly familiar sense of absolute helplessness washes over me, bringing with it my most hated emotions and fears. The feeling of not being good enough, being weak, being abandoned, rejected and hated by someone you hold dear.

I want to make things right – I want fix this for her.

For once, I want to save someone. For once, I want to be strong enough.

"Katara..."

"No," she grits through clenched teeth. Suddenly our faces are just a breath apart. "Don't you dare say my name!"

This close, I can notice the unshed tears glistening her eyes. Blue irises bleeding crimson rivers.

"Katara, I..."

"Shut up!," she crashes her fist against my chest. And then again, and again, "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

Katara's smacks mimic stabbing – like she's trying to force her pain into me. The tears she has been holding back finally leave her eyes and roll through her cheeks, mixing themselves with the rainwater. "I hate you!," she screams over the rain, "I hate you, hate you, hate you!"