Knock, knock, knock.

Sokka felt he should give some warning before he slipped into the room. Katara's moods had been up and down and backward and sideways and…just a lot more unpredictable than usual lately. That wasn't surprising, but he kind of liked his head and didn't want her biting it off like some angry saber-tooth moose-lion.

Katara didn't even glance at him. Her attention was focused completely on Aang as she stood behind him. He was lying unconscious on his stomach and her glowing hands moved slowly over the ugly, healing wound that marred his back.

Sokka shut the door and set the plate of food he was carrying down on the small table that was pressed up against the wall, wondering how many healing sessions Katara had done today. Wondering when the last time she'd slept longer than two hours had been. Her face was pinched, and her eyes had dark circles beneath them.

He waited until she pulled her hands away from Aang's back and bended her water into the bowls she had set beside Aang. "I brought you some food," he said. "It's not sea prunes, but it's not too bad."

"I'm not hungry." Katara dropped down onto her knees beside Aang, turning her back on Sokka.

He'd expected that answer. "After all the trouble I went through to get it here? Really, you should have seen the way Pipsqueak was eyeing your plate. I had to make a run for it." And you didn't eat lunch, he thought silently. 

"I'm not hungry," Katara repeated more emphatically.

All she'd had for breakfast had been a biscuit and even then, she'd let Momo eat half of it.

"It's really pretty good." Sokka picked up a sad-looking…something-or-other. He hadn't been able to identify some of the rations on board the Fire Nation ship. As long as they were edible, who cared what they were?   He waved it temptingly in her direction.

"I said I'm not hungry, Sokka!" Katara's head swiveled and she glared at him with her exhausted eyes.

"C'mon, Katara, you have to eat. It'll help keep up your strength."

"My strength is just fine," she said, voice clipped. "I don't need you worrying about me." 

Sokka frowned at her stormy expression. He'd been doing and saying everything he could to lighten Katara's load and her mood, and she was pushing him away every time. It was worse, though, with anyone else who tried to suggest she rest or eat, especially if it was their father.

Katara ruined her glare by yawning. Sokka dropped down on his knees beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Katara, please. You're--"

"Don't tell me I'm doing too much! You're not my father!"

Sokka blinked at her. "Katara, I never--"

"I have to stay here! Aang still hasn't even opened his eyes again.  His fever goes up and down. He's cool right now, but it could go up quickly. I can't leave him, Sokka." Katara turned back toward Aang and placed a hand on his forehead. "I have to take care of him. I should have taken care of him."

Sokka blinked again, his stomach clenching at the remorse and sorrow he heard. "Katara, this isn't your fault!"

"Yes, it is! If I hadn't let down my guard with Zuko, I would have been able to help Aang with his fight." Her voice cracked and she ducked her head. "I can handle this." She didn't sound angry anymore; she just sounded like she was about to burst into tears. 

Sokka tugged on Katara's shoulder until she twisted and faced him. "What if I watch Aang for a while?" He expected her to turn him down, as she had been anytime someone offered her a respite or tried to get her to rest. "You don't have to leave," he said as she began to protest. "And I promise I'll wake you if his fever goes up again."

Katara stared at him for a long moment, searching his eyes, and he added, "And I promise not to eat your food. Even though it was tasty. Warrior's honor."

At last, something shifted in her gaze and he thought she was close to either smiling or rolling her eyes. Instead, she nodded slowly. He watched as she lay down on a blanket right beside Aang's cot, reaching up one hand and holding onto Aang's wrist, as though that would keep her aware of his state even if she did fall asleep. Or maybe it was just to assure herself he was alive. He might not have always understood some of Katara's words or actions, but he understood some things. He understood guilt and responsibility, knew what it was to feel a failure in protecting someone.

He squeezed his eyes shut and in the brief moment of darkness, he saw images of the moon and pale hair, of fans and white face paint. Memories swirled of one whose fate had been snatched out of his hands and one whose fate was still entirely unknown.

Then his eyes were open and he was looking at his sister, her own eyes slowly drifting closed. She whispered, "It's going to be all right." 

Sokka wasn't sure if she was talking to him, Aang, or herself, but he answered anyway. "Yeah. It is. We've got Momo; how could anything go wrong?"

Katara gave a very small groan, her eyes flickering open long enough to attempt to roll her eyes at him, but a tiny smile passed across her face, so quickly he almost missed it.

He could tell when Katara fell asleep, her breathing becoming deep and even, her fingers slack against Aang's wrist. He covered up her dinner--he'd work on convincing her to eat it after she got some rest--and settled down where he had a good view of Katara and Aang. 

She always wanted to save everybody. Always tried to be the caretaker, was always the one to find a bright side to everything. It had been years since he had seen her like this, so angry and lost and on the brink of shattering. It was hard to see. He wanted to spare her the pain and guilt; would have taken it from her if he could.

Maybe he couldn't take it away, but he could be there for her through it. She wasn't the only one who was protective of the people she loved. And sometimes even the guardian needed some guarding.

Hey, he could probably compose a poem about that. A guarded guardian? A guardian guard? Was that the same thing?

Sokka's eyes drifted between Katara and Aang. At least there would be some interesting things to share with Aang when he woke up.