The four sat in a silence so dense that it was almost palpable in the chilling night air, only reinforcing the sense of sudden loneliness that had fallen over the group. Emotional pleas seemed to cry out from every heart, but were received by no one as all eyes avoided each other, resisting showing their weaknesses.

All of them had known all along that the journey they were on was a dangerous one, and deep down in the recesses of their hearts they had known that some of them might not make it through to see the end of this war, but none had ever truly accepted this fact, and it was startling to all of them to see it happening now.

Katara observed her brother in morbid curiosity as he held Suki’s body in his arms. His face was contorted into a strange expression of so many emotions that it would have been impossible for Katara to pick out and name just one. His fingers trembled numbly around Suki’s shoulders as he was torn between wanting to hold her and not wanting to hurt her.

It was strange, seeing this side of Sokka. He had always worn a mask of bravery—the mask of the warrior—but now he showed the true weakness behind this veil. She could see the fear in his eyes and hear the pain in his breathing…and somehow, it empowered her. Katara suddenly found her mind running at full spend, searching through every crevice of her brain, looking for any piece of knowledge she could find about burns and how to treat them.

“Aang,” she said, bringing everyone abruptly out of the silence that had enclosed them all a moment before. Aang looked up at her in surprise, noticing her standing over his shoulder for the first time. “I need you to find us somewhere to land for the night—somewhere near water.” Aang nodded and crawled up Appa’s haunches to grab his reins.

“Toph, could you monitor Suki’s heart rate?” Katara asked.

“Yeah,” Toph replied and placed a hand on Suki’s chest, feeling her racing heart beat beneath her fingertips.

“Good. Tell me if you feel any sudden changes,” Katara told her, then turned to her brother. He didn’t look up at her, or even seem to notice that she had started talking in the first place. She thought better of pulling him away from Suki, and went off in search of rags herself. After a futile hunt through all the packs and bags tied to Appa’s saddle, Katara began ripping off pieces of her dress to use instead. She then crawled back over to where Sokka, Suki, and Toph all sat and pulled out her pouch of water. She wet her rags, chilling them with her breath, and then reached out a hand to press the cool rags against Suki’s forehead.

As the rags touched Suki’s wounds, Toph suddenly felt Suki’s heart break into a frantic beating, and her breaths became loud and gasping.

“She’s awake!” Toph cried out, partly in surprise and partly in urgency. Katara winced. She couldn’t even imagine the pain the girl would suffer now that she was conscious.

Katara quickly pulled the injured girl away from a reluctant Sokka and into her arms where she could better care for her. Suki’s body seemed to move against her will as she thrashed and rolled about in pain and semi-consciousness. Katara continued to press her cold cloth to Suki’s forehead while she did her best to still Suki’s body.

“Can’t you do something?” Sokka cried desperately as he looked down at Suki.

“I’m doing the best that I can!” his sister yelled in return, trying her hardest to calm the gasping, writhing girl in her arms. “Aang! Haven’t you found someplace for us to land yet?” she barked impatiently.

“I think I see something,” Aang replied, squinting as he looked into the distance. Katara remained caring for the injured warrior. After a few minutes, Katara had managed to calm Suki’s thrashing into quiet tears and trembling fingers, and she sat, wiping blood from any part of the girl’s face and arms that weren’t too burned to touch.

Suki tried to look up at the girl tending to her, but her head felt heavy and it hurt to lift it, so she didn’t try. And even if she had, it would have been impossible to see through the ash that filled her eyes and clouded her vision. Suki could only make out the faint silhouettes of her companions, and even then they were sometimes blocked out by bright white spots that danced tauntingly around her eyesight. She closed her eyes, giving up on her struggle to see, and wishing she would just die.

For she still could feel the fire.

She knew the flames had been put out long ago, but she could still feel them licking at her flesh, tearing it off of her body over and over again. Behind her eyelids, she could even see the flames still. They swirled and writhed all around her, showing her no escape from the torture of their grasp.

Suki wanted to cry out. She could no longer see even the outlines of her companions when she opened her eyes, and she wanted to know that they were still there.

But she bit her lip instead, whimpering as she lay curled up in Appa’s saddle. She wanted to get away from the fire that engulfed her mind—to leave her skin behind, and crawl out of the flames—but she knew there was no escape from the inferno that surrounded her, seeping in through her eyes and into her mind, drowning her in the blaze.

Her teeth bit so hard into her lip now that the skin broke, and blood dribbled down her chin. Suki heard someone curse, and felt nimble fingers moving her lip from her teeth and wiping the blood away.

Moments later, someone picked her up, and Suki let out a shriek of surprise and pain. The person nearly dropped her in sudden shock, but held on though they were shaking fiercely now.

“Make an earth tent, Toph!” Suki heard Katara yell. Her voice sounded strange—agitated and anxious all at once—and she knew that it did not come from the person carrying her. Since Aang was injured, and Toph was obviously busy making an earth tent, she decided that it must be Sokka holding her. He was shaking terribly, and it horrified Suki to feel how frightened he was. How badly had she been hurt? Of course, she could feel her injuries, but there was no way she could see the extent of them. There had been many times before that her injuries had not been nearly as bad as they felt, but judging by Sokka’s racing heart and shaking fingers, this was not one of them.

-x-x-x-x-

Sokka couldn’t sleep.

He had been up for hours now, tossing and turning, waiting for the sweet relief of slumber take over him, but sleep was elusive that night, and every time it seemed to be within his grasp, nightmares would rip him back into the realm of consciousness.

And now Sokka was afraid to close his eyes, not wanting to see the images that waited for him just behind his eyelids. It was a nightmare that Sokka had seen many times before. He had never told Katara of it, though he knew she saw it too. He had heard her cry out at night enough times to know that she saw the dream—the memory—as often as he did. She had even told him about it one frosty morning many years ago, but she had made him promise that he wouldn’t mention it to anyone, not even Dad. Sokka never mentioned the dream after that, and over the years, she had forgotten that she had ever confided in her brother.

But Sokka remembered. The memory still stung fresh for him like a new wound, though it was the oldest one he had.

The burning tents were what stood out most vividly to Sokka. They were always the beginning of his nightmare.

He remembered pulling an eight-year-old Katara by the hand back to the village after seeing the black snow falling from the sky, and as they rounded the top of the hill he could see the blaze that engulfed his tribe, dancing atop all the tents. Katara stopped, her eyes wide in wonderment and terror as she stared at the village below.

“Come on, Katara!” Sokka yelled, tugging at his sister’s hand and dragging her behind him as they ran to the village. Sokka braced himself as he broke through into the sea of frantic runners and yellers. People weaved desperately in and out of the burning tents, calling out the names of their loved ones in the hopes of finding them before they were hurt.

“What’s happening?” Katara cried out in confusion, but Sokka barely heard her amidst all the other yelling and screaming.

Sokka didn’t have to answer her, though, for as she asked her question, a fire nation soldier came into view. When the villagers saw him, they immediately scattered away in fear, leaving empty patches of sooty snow wherever the soldiers walked.

“Katara!” the cry broke through all the others. Sokka recognized the voice instantly as his mother’s, though it sounded strained with fear and desperation. Sokka looked around to see where her voice was coming from, but he couldn’t see her. “Sokka!” the voice screamed again.

“Mom!” Sokka called back, weaving in between the other people in the frenzy, with Katara at his heels. As he ran, he saw a villager already laying face down in the snow. His body had been trampled and kicked in the madness, but the scorch marks on the sides of his face told him that he had died long before that. This wasn’t the moment to mourn the dead, though. Preservation of life was the only concern now as terrified mothers called for their children amidst the flames and smoke.

“Mom!” Sokka yelled out again as he finally saw her staggering through the crowd. She looked up and saw him, then broke into a run at her two children.

And in her haste, she didn’t see the fire nation soldier crossing her path.

Sokka watched as his mother ran into the man. She stumbled backwards, but just as she regained herself, the soldier hit her across the face and she fell back to the snow, her cheek bleeding. The soldier shot a stream of fire at his mother—

--And that was the last time that Sokka ever saw her alive.

And now Suki lay in the tent across from his with the same burns as his mother.

Images of burning tents and burning people waited for Sokka behind his eyelids.

And Sokka couldn’t sleep.

-x-x-x-x-

Sokka sat at the edge of a river not far from their campsite, his hands fumbling with the ribbon he used to tie back his ponytail. He twisted it in his fingers, knotting and unknotting it subconsciously as he stared out across the water. The crescent moon reflected off of the river’s surface, and Sokka couldn’t help but stare at it. It was impossibly beautiful and bright that night—lively in an otherwise moribund world—though it served as an almost taunting reminder of just how unpredictable fate was.

But the bright moon did not mock his pain or laugh at the irony that seemed to fill Sokka’s life. It simply sat in the sky, staring vigilantly down at the boy.

Sokka looked guiltily away from the moon. It felt almost like a betrayal to be staring at it so longingly, while Suki lay injured in a tent not far from where he sat. For what it was worth, he had tried to stay with Suki in the tent where Katara and Toph were doing their best to heal her, but Katara had immediately sent him out, banishing him to his own tent, where she said he should be taking care of Aang.

But Sokka had felt like he was going to go insane, lying awake in his sleeping bag while Aang slumbered peacefully at his side. Fear and nerves had urged him to go walking. His destination didn’t matter—all he desired was a moment to think, which was something he couldn’t seem to do with Aang by his side. The boy was fine, so Sokka had felt no shame in leaving him alone in the tent and walked out to the edge of the river. He was the Avatar after all, and he could take care of himself, injured or not.

Sokka’s eyes glanced back up at the moon. It provided too much comfort for him to look away for long. It was strange, for he had never been a spiritual person. While others would find comfort in praying to the spirits in times of need, Sokka searched for ways to fix things on his own, preferring his own cunning to that of an unseen force.

But how would his cunning help him now? He could try to be optimistic like his sister and tell himself that things would be alright—that Suki would make it through, and everything would go back to how it had been before, but that would have crossed the line that separated optimism into lying. He knew that even if she did live, things would never go back to normal. It was futile to hope for a full recovery.

But Katara had told him before that the spirits worked in mysterious ways. Sometimes, she said, when you need a miracle, it never hurts to ask. But that was silly, and Sokka knew it. He had long since grown out of such fairytales and nonsense.

But maybe, considering the circumstances, just this once she was right? Sokka didn’t have time to consider it though, for he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his solitude. He turned to see Katara standing over him.

“Shouldn’t you be taking care of Aang?” she asked tiredly, sitting down beside him. She pulled her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees, and stared out across the water.

“Shouldn’t you be taking care of Suki?” Sokka retorted bitterly. Katara didn’t look at him. If only he knew what she had been through that night! She had spent hours trying to cool Suki’s skin and relieve her pain, but nothing she tried had worked. These burns were so different and so much more extensive than any kind she had ever tried to heal before, and she had no idea what to do or where to start. She was scared to death that she’d do something wrong, and it would cost Suki her life.

So Katara was stuck with her only safe treatment—the wet, chilled rags she had been placing across Suki’s body for hours. But Katara had begun to think that this was working. Suki had calmed down, and she looked like she might even be able to fall asleep… And that’s when she started to vomit. Katara had begun to cry out of frustration and pity, tipping back Suki’s head, and pouring water from her pouch down the girl’s throat. It wasn’t long before Suki had emptied the contents of her stomach and began to dry heave, hacking up nothing but her own blood.

After a while, Suki’s vomiting had subsided and Suki fell asleep, her exhaustion conquering over her pain. Katara took the opportunity to go to the river and clean her rags, wash the sick off her dress, and escape the terror for just a moment. She had never envied Toph’s blindness until that night. Witnessing a strong, brave warrior like Suki be reduced to such a small and fragile creature was almost more than she could bear, and Toph was lucky she couldn’t see it.

Katara began to wash her rags in the river, and the cold water felt nice on her fingers. She wiped some of it across her face then looked skyward, allowing the cold water to drip down her neck.

“How is she?” Sokka asked. He asked it suddenly and quickly, as if he had put a lot of consideration upon whether he would even say it at all, and Katara tilted her neck, looking awkwardly up at him.

What did you say in a time like this? Did you tell the truth? Were you optimistic? She didn’t know. She sat for a moment, examining the palms of her hands, wasting time before she had to answer. How strange it was that finding the answer to such a simple question could be so difficult!

“I’m doing the best that I can…” Katara started, searching desperately for the right words; “but there’s not much I can do”

“What do you mean?” Sokka asked. His eyes narrowed in confusion as he turned from the moon to look at his sister.

“I just…” Katara fumbled over her words. How could she put this softly? “She’s not doing so well.” Perhaps what this situation called for was honesty? “It’s been a really rough night…I’ve done everything I can think of to help her, but nothing’s working, and…” Katara looked up at her brother, taking a deep breath before she continued, “…and I think we’re losing her.”

Sokka looked down at the ground, resting his head in the palm of his hand. He had known that this would be her answer long before he had even asked the question, but it still stung to hear it come from her lips—So grave and finalized. Sokka could feel himself shaking again.

“So…so what do we do now?” he asked, though his voice was broken and uneven. He wouldn’t look up at Katara. His eyes stung with tears, and he couldn’t let her see—he was a warrior.

“I don’t know what I can do, short of taking her to the healers at the North Pole,” Katara said. It was one of those funny, unintentional things that can sometimes come out of a person’s mouth, though it seemed like the spirits themselves had placed it on their tongue.

“That’s it!” Katara shouted suddenly, startling Sokka. She turned to him, excited now. She grabbed his hand and made him look at her. “That’s what we’ll do!” she told him. “We’ll take her to the North Pole! They have the best healers in the world there, Sokka! They’ll know what to do!”

Again, Sokka’s eyes narrowed. How curious it was that she was referring to the North Pole as a place of healing—that certainly wasn’t how he thought of it. Sokka had always regarded it a place of loss and mourning, and it seemed almost morbid that Katara should suggest they take Suki there.

But her logic was sound, and Sokka wouldn’t argue any chance to save Suki, no matter how many bad memories it could provoke.

But Katara didn’t bother to give her brother a chance to reply.

“We can leave tomorrow morning,” she told him. “It shouldn’t take too long to get there on Appa if we don’t make any stops.”

Sokka nodded, then looked back up at the moon again. He studied it, and tried to think of nothing else—to avoid thinking of Yue; to avoid thinking of Suki. Through his wonderings he noticed that the moon was so bright that the stars around it were nearly invisible in comparison, but as he looked back, away from the moon, the stars became brighter, and the designs they made in the sky were entrancing. It seemed like a sign, almost--like a symbolic reference to something his mind couldn’t understand. He stored the thought in the back of his head, thinking that maybe the answer would come to him one day.

Katara followed her brother’s gaze, and her excitement over the brilliance of her plan subsided.

“I…I forgot” Katara said softly, looking at the moon now too. “Will you be alright?”

Sokka nodded, though, truthfully, his well-being walked hand-in hand with Suki’s.