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Chapter Text

Zuko had always been determined.

Azula had teased him often when his one track mind ran in the direction of food, but his determination served him well over the years. It kept him going even when the odds seemed insurmountable, even when his strength was all but gone, even when he wanted nothing more than for it all to be over.

It kept him going all through the long years of searching for the missing Avatar, while he was still clinging to the hope that he could prove himself to his father and to himself, that he could regain his honor, and in doing so, become whole again.

It had taken him a long time to realize that he had been naive.

Shaking his head to clear it, Zuko scanned the open air in front of him. The Avatar’s flying bison was far ahead of him, but still within sight. The bison was burdened, carrying a heavy load, and Zuko was slowly but surely gaining on them.

Isn’t it ironic? He thought wryly, that now I could finally end it once and for all, I don’t want to. Fate is a fickle thing, isn't it?

The sun was setting in the distance, vibrant colors bleeding into each other, blending and mixing to create a picturesque scene. Zuko clutched the rudder of the airship tighter, ignoring the stabbing pain in his side. Apparently his father was more organized than he had thought, he had already sent out orders to his guards to kill Zuko on sight.

Zuko gritted his teeth.

No. He couldn’t afford to be weak. Not now, not ever. Lashing the rudder to keep it in place with shaky hands, the former fire prince opened the coal burner of the airship and fed it more flames.

Zuko wiped his sweaty brow, bloodshot eyes wandering to find the flying bison in the distance. The memory forced its way upon him unbidden, his memory going back to when he was young and still believed in the black and white of good and evil.

“Mama!”
Zuko ran through the halls of the fire palace, tears streaming down his face. “Mama!” He found her out in the courtyard, beside the turtleduck pond, one of her favorite places. It was one of his too, if only because his mother was there often. “Mama! Look!” He skidded to a stop in front of her, all but shoving his cupped hands in front of her face so she could see what he was holding.

“Whoa, there, Zuko, calm down,” His mother said calmly, inspecting the small bird in his hands. “What happened?” She carefully lifted the small bird – probably a baby – out of Zuko’s sweaty grasp.

“Well I was out in the gardens,” He began, wiping the tears off his cheeks even as fresh tears poured down. “And I saw this bird just minding his own business, and then a weasel-fox jumped out of the bushes and attacked it and I didn’t know what to do, but I ran at it and I guess I scared it because it ran away, and the bird was hurt and couldn’t fly and I didn’t know what to do so I went to find you and I ran into Azula and she said that I should let it die because it wasn’t strong enough but I didn’t want–” He broke off, swallowing a sob as another round of tears cascaded down his face.

“It’s okay, Zuko.” His mother said soothingly, lying the baby bird in her lap and pulling her young son into a tight embrace. “We’ll take care of her, she’ll be back to flying in no time.”

“But did I do the right thing? Azula said-”

“Zuko,” His mother reached up, wiping away Zuko’s tears with one gentle hand. “You did the right thing. Sometimes, in life, it’ll be very hard to do what is right.”

“Then how will I know what the right thing is?” Zuko sniffled, tears finally subsiding.

“Because,” His mother laid her hand on his chest, directly over his heart. “You’ll know in here.”

“How do you know?” Hiccupping, Zuko slipped his hand into his mothers, taking comfort in the warmth from her soft hand.

“Oh, Zuko,” She smiled sadly at him, but her gaze was unfocused, as if her mind was far away. Then her gaze sharpened and she offered him a stronger smile. “I’m sorry you have to learn this so early, but the world isn’t fair. Sometimes, people don’t get what they deserve. Sometimes, evil wins.”

“Evil never wins!” Zuko said, shaking his head and frowning. “All the stories you tell, the good guys always win!”

“Yes, but those are only stories. Real life isn’t always like that. Good and evil aren’t always so clear to see. Sometimes it can be confusing, who is good and who is evil.” She sighed, pushing an unruly lock of Zuko’s hair out of his eyes. “Remember this, Zuko. No one is ever truly evil, and no one is ever truly good. There is always some of both. There is always a balance.”

“I don’t understand.” Zuko whined, hands fidgeting with the hem of his tunic.

“You will someday.” His mother said softly, taking another moment to study his face before scooping up the baby bird from where she had nestled in her lap. “Now come, we have a baby bird to attend to.”

Zuko blinked a few times, trying to dispel the memory. He couldn’t afford to lose focus. Not now.

The sunset had faded away, the dark of night creeping to cover the land in a blanket of velvet blue, with tiny embroidered stitches of silver dotting the vast cloth. If Zuko wasn’t so tired, he would’ve admired the view. As it was, he dug his fingernails into his palm, the sharp sting drawing him out of his weary stupor.

Noting that he had drifted too far to the right, Zuko untied the airship’s rudder, ignoring the throbbing pain in his side, and steered the ship back on course.

He hadn’t actually had a chance to look at the wound since his panicked flight from his confrontation with his father. He had been rushed by a team of six guards, and while his skills with his dual swords were quite impressive, he couldn’t defend himself on all sides at once.

He had nearly made it to the door before one of the guards connected with a lucky hit. Now, he tied the rudder back in place and fueled the engine one more time, then, satisfied the ship would be fine for a little while, sat down, pressing his back into the cool metal side.

After taking a moment to breathe, Zuko reached down and tentatively touched the wound in his side. It was not one of his wisest decisions. White-hot pain shot through his veins, starting in his side and spreading outward, like jagged bolts of lightning.

Groaning in pain, Zuko curled into himself, his father’s words from so long ago echoing in his head.

‘Azula was born lucky. You were lucky to be born.’

Maybe he was right. Maybe it would have been better if Zuko had never been born at all.

No. He thought, forcing his battered body to sit, then stand. Not for yourself. For Uncle. For Mother. I have to continue. I have to.

Ahead of him, the Avatar and his team had touched down to rest for the night. If Zuko flew ahead of them, he could wait for them at the Western Air Temple. Then he could explain. Then he could explain that he had changed. That he was good. That he wasn’t the same person he had been.

If he could just make a little further, everything would be alright.

***

It was surreal, Zuko thought, the way they joked and laughed around one another. As if they weren’t in a wartime that had lasted for a hundred years. As if they hadn't just failed in an invasion to stop the Fire Lord from conquering the rest of the world. He wondered vaguely what it would be like to joke around with friends, to not have the threat of his father – of the world’s end – looming over his head every second.

He was hidden behind one of the pillars of the Western Air Temple, merely observing as the Avatar and his many friends set up their camp.

His side throbbed, a pulsing pain that wouldn’t leave him alone. Zuko had wrapped a crude bandage around himself in the darkness last night, and he still hadn’t actually taken a good look at it in the light.

The Earth Kingdom citizens – Zuko wasn’t entirely clear on who they were – left to explore the Temple, and finally Zuko was presented with his chance. Standing from his awkward half-kneeling, half-sitting position behind the pillar, the firebender strode with as much confidence as he could muster, which wasn’t much, out into the open.

“Hello, Zuko here.” He said, weakly raising one hand in a gesture of greeting. Not to his surprise, the Avatar and his friends immediately shifted into battle positions. “Hey,” He continued as they glared at him. “I heard you guys flying around down there so I just thought I’d wait for you here.”

Mentally, he cursed himself for being so awkward. Really? ‘Hello, Zuko here?’ He winced as a spike of pain flashed through his side. Hopefully they didn’t notice. If they thought he was weak, then they’d reject him for sure.

Before he could continue with his speech, which he had to have practiced at least a hundred times, the giant flying bison stepped closer to him, giving him what could be read as an appraising look. The bison – Appa, Zuko thought his name was – roared at him, and Zuko flung his arms up to cover his face. But, to his surprise, the bite never came.

Instead, Appa’s rough tongue almost knocked him over, and the surprising wetness that followed wasn’t high on Zuko’s list of pleasant sensations.

He straightened, confused, and grateful that the bison hadn’t licked his injured side. The bison licked him again, his face this time, and Zuko grimaced at the unpleasant smelling slobber, raising a hand to scrub as much as he could off his face.

Taking a deep breath, he turned his attention back to the rag tag group in front of him, all who looked just as surprised as him that Appa hadn’t decided to turn Zuko into a midday snack. “I know you must be surprised to see me here.”

“Not really.” The water tribe boy – Sokka, Zuko had heard his name as – said, voice layered with sarcasm, anger, and a heavy dose of warning. “Since you’ve followed us all over the world.”

“Right.” Zuko looked away, pinning his gaze on the temple’s floor as a wave of guilt washed over him. He had done so many terrible things. Did he truly believe he could be redeemed? “Well, uh, anyway,” He tried to steady his shaky voice. “What I wanted to tell you,” He paused, all the speaking and movement jostling his wound. “About, is that I’ve changed.”

He looked up, forcing himself to meet the Avatar’s stare. “And I, uh,” It was so hard to think. Why was it so hard to think? “I’m good now. And, well, I think I should join your group.” He was forgetting something. What was it? “Oh, and I can teach firebending. To you.”

He paused, gauging their reactions. Aang’s eyes were wide with surprise, and his youthful face had a conflicted expression that shouldn’t have to be seen on one so young. Katara was angry, as he had expected. Her eyes were narrowed into slits, and if looks could kill, Zuko would have been dead before he hit the floor. Sokka was wary, and Toph was confused, with a fair bit of suspicion mixed in.

“See I, uh–” Zuko began, but Toph cut him off.

“You wanna what now?” She said, voice incredulous.

“You can’t possibly think any of us would trust you, can you?” Katara said, tone sharp and cold. “I mean, how stupid do you think we are?”

“Yeah!” Sokka jumped in to back up his sister. “All you’ve ever done is try to hunt us down and capture Aang!”

“I’ve done some good things!” Zuko protested, while his brain scattered in a million different directions trying to remember what those good things were. “I mean, I could have stolen your bison in Ba Sing Se, but I set him free, that’s something!” He took a step forward, another jolt of pain shooting through his side.

Appa had settled himself comfortably on the ground behind Zuko, but now he lifted his head and licked Zuko’s back, and the former prince couldn’t stop a small gasp of pain from escaping.

“Appa does seem to like him.” Toph said, stretching out of her defensive pose. She sounded more thoughtful than suspicious, and Zuko couldn't help a surge of hope. Maybe there was hope after all.

“He probably just covered himself in honey or something so Appa would lick him,” Sokka said, “I’m not buying it.”

“I can understand why you wouldn’t trust me,” Zuko turned his gaze toward the floor, fighting back a wave of dizziness that seemed to strike him from out of the blue. It took everything in him not to collapse right there, but apparently no one else noticed, or they just didn’t care. “And I know I’ve made some mistakes in the past.”

“Like when you attacked our village?” Sokka said.

“Or when you stole my mother’s necklace and used it to track us down and capture us?” Katara scowled at him, her hands tight fists at her side.

“Look.” Zuko said, blinking to clear the fuzziness that was rapidly taking over his vision. “I admit I’ve done some awful things, I was wrong to try to capture you, and I’m sorry that I attacked the water tribe.” He put a hand to his head, closing his eyes. Memories of all the terrible things he had done clustered in the forefront of his mind, and he couldn't concentrate on what he was trying to say. “And I never should have sent that fire nation assassin after you, I’m gonna try to st–”

“Wait, you sent Combustion Man after us?” Sokka yelped, whipping his boomerang from his back and pointing it threateningly at Zuko.

“Well, that’s not his name, but–” What was his name? Zuko was finding it hard to remember.

“Oh, sorry.” Sokka’s voice was dripping in sarcasm. “I didn’t mean to insult your friend.”

“He’s not my friend!” Zuko protested.

“That guy locked me and Katara in jail and tried to blow us all up!” Toph said, thoughtfulness replaced by anger.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” He asked Aang, who stood silently, expression still conflicted. “You once said you thought we could be friends.” He continued, not caring how pleading his voice sounded. “You know I have good in me.” He meant the words to sound confident, sincere, but all that came out was a desperate question.

Aang looked away, then to his friends. Sokka shook his head, and while Katara was too busy glaring at Zuko, her position on the matter was well known. Finally, he took a deep breath and looked Zuko straight in the eye. “There’s no way we can trust you after everything you’ve done. We’ll never let you join us.”

“You need to get out of here. Now.” Katara said.

Zuko’s hopes crashed to the ground. Of course. Had he really expected them to… What? Invite him in with open arms? Forget everything he had done, every time he had hurt them?

No. Of course not. That wasn’t the way the world worked. But he couldn’t give up. He had come much too far for that. He had to try. He had to try to make them see.

“I’m trying to explain that I’m not that person anymore!” He nearly shouted, throwing his hands in the air.

“Either you leave, or we attack.” Sokka said as the team prepared to attack.

Zuko’s heart stopped. It couldn’t end here. Not now. Now like this. He had to keep going, had to make them see, no matter what the cost. “If you won’t accept me as a friend–” He said, swallowing his pride and slowly lowering himself to his knees before them. “Then maybe you’ll take me as a prisoner.” He raised his hands above his head, ready for the ropes that were sure to follow.

“No we won’t!” Katara stepped forward, directing a small wave of water into Zuko and knocking him backward. Zuko let out a surprised grunt as the cold water slammed into his wound, sending fresh waves of pain crashing throughout his body. He groaned, propping himself up to look at the group as water streamed into his eyes, making his vision even blurrier than it already was.

“Get out of here and don’t come back.” Katara growled, her voice tight with barely controlled rage. “And if we ever see you again…” She paused, unable to think of an appropriate punishment. “Well, we’d better not see you again!”

Zuko hung his head, slowly forcing himself to his feet, the water soaking his shirt, making the material cling to his side, where a warm sticky substance was beginning to mix with the water.

Without a backwards glance at the group, he trudged off, each step jostling his wound and making him grimace and wince in pain. His side felt like it was on fire. No, like the very blood in his veins had turned into fire, scorching him from the inside.

He had failed, well and truly failed.

Hah. He thought, each step taking every ounce of determination he had left. Now what am I? Traitorous, rejected, shunned. I really do have no home to return to. No one to call friend. No one to call family. No one at all.

Not for the first time, Zuko knew that he was truly alone.

Chapter Text

Toph couldn’t sleep.

She couldn’t stop thinking about what Zuko had said. She hadn’t had as much history with him as the rest of the group had, but she knew that he wasn’t a good guy…. Right?

Toph knew things. Because of her earthbending, she could tell when someone was lying. Their heartbeat sped up, and their pulse became random and sporadic. She hadn’t sensed any lies from Zuko. Maybe he was just a very accomplished liar, Toph had come across a few of those before, but she didn’t think so.

Even his voice held a note of desperation that was hard to fake.

No, Toph didn’t think he was lying. So, then, what was she going to do about it?

One more thing bothered her, though. Zuko’s heartbeat had been racing. Not sporadically, though, not like if someone was lying, it was more like if someone was in… pain.

Contrary to popular opinion, Toph was not heartless. She did care, and if Zuko was hurt, even if he was the bad guy, it didn’t sit right with her to leave him all on his own. Plus, she reasoned, hewas a firebender. Aang needed to learn firebending, and they didn’t have anyone else to teach him.

Toph crept out of the campsite, careful to avoid her sleeping teammates. She followed her senses, reaching out with earthbending to feel the vibrations of the earth. She sensed a sleeping figure not far from the Western Air Temple, and started off. It wasn’t a far walk, maybe a minute or two until Toph came upon a small clearing.

There was nothing to indicate a campsite, and Toph stuffed down a small pang of unease. Zuko was a prince, after all, shouldn’t he be used to traveling in style? Surely he had a tent or something.

She hung back at the edge of the clearing, reaching out with her senses. Zuko was laying near the middle of the small clearing, breathing swallow and uneven. Slowly, carefully, she crept nearer, wary. He didn’t so much as move a muscle.

She was close now, nearly touching him, and he still hadn’t moved. Cautiously, she reached out a hand, shaking his shoulder gently. He didn’t stir.

“Hey, Zuko.” She said in a voice just above a whisper. “Wake up. I just want to talk.”

Nothing.

“Zuko!” She tried again, louder this time. She shook him again, harder, but still he didn’t move. The feeling of dread Toph had tried so hard to dismiss surged up again, in full force.

Stay calm. She told herself. Everything’s fine, he’s just a heavy sleeper. She knew it wasn't true, but it was a nice idea. She rolled him onto his back, and his arm flopped to the side, bumping into her leg.

Toph concentrated, scanning his body for injuries with her earthbending. She wished Katara was here, healing was her area of expertise, not Toph’s, all Toph did was smack things around with rocks.

She frowned. It felt like his rib was broken. Reaching down, Toph tentatively touched Zuko’s side.

She screamed and jerked her hand away.

Her hand came away soaked in blood.

***

Katara jerked awake, heart pounding. Someone had screamed. She struggled out of her sleeping bag, noticing Aang and Sokka doing the same out of the corner of her eye.

“Wha’s go’in on?” Aang asked, stifling a huge yawn.

“Where’s Toph?” Sokka sounded much more awake than Aang, and had already scooped up his boomerang and club.

“I don’t know.” Katara swung her water skin over her shoulder. “But I have a good feeling that wherever she is, we’ll find Zuko too.”

“The scream came from that way.” Sokka said, pointing with his boomerang. The campfire had gone out sometime in the night, but the moon was bright and there was plenty of light to see by. Katara gave him a curt nod, cold determination settling in her stomach. She would do whatever she had to do to Zuko. Whatever she had to do.

It took them around five minutes to find Toph. She hadn’t gone far, only to a small clearing in the woods. She was kneeling on the ground, unmoving, with a prone figure in front of her, and Katara’s blood ran cold. If he had done something to her…

“Toph!” Aang shouted, sprinting to her side. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Toph’s voice sounded distant, and Katara was by her side in an instant, checking her over for injuries. “I’m fine. But he’s not.”

“You’re bleeding!” Katara said, pulling her farther away from the prone form and turning her arm toward the light for inspection.

“No, it’s not mine.” Toph’s tone was flat, emotionless, and even with her reassurances, Katara washed the blood off her arm with a little waterbending.

“Katara.” Sokka’s voice was quiet, and Katara turned to see her brother kneeling by Zuko’s side. “I think you might want to take a look at this.”

“We should leave him.” Katara snarled, not wanting anything to do with Zuko. “He’s fine. He’s probably pretending to be hurt to get our sympathy.”

“I don’t think so.” Sokka said, reaching down and feeling Zuko’s pulse. “Katara, please, just look at him, he’s in pretty bad shape.”

“I don’t care what happens to him.” She said, but moved to sit beside her brother anyway. The moon had slipped behind a cloud, leaving barely enough light to see, but now the cloud passed, and Katara gasped. Zuko’s side was covered in sticky blood, and more blood was dripping sluggishly from a large gaping hole in his side to join the puddle collecting under him.

The wound – Sword, she guessed – was large, as large as her closed fist, and there was far too much blood.

“Oh.” There wasn’t anything else to say. A rudimentary bandage had fallen away from where it had been tied around Zuko’s side, the bandage still soaked with blood. His face was screwed up, even in sleep, and sweat beaded his forehead.

“We have to help him.” Aang said, reaching to feel Zuko’s forehead. “He’s burning up.”

“I-” Katara was frozen. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think. She hated Zuko, but she couldn’t just let him die. Could she? “I don’t know if I can heal him.”

“Yes you can.” Sokka said with no trace of hesitation.

“It’s infected.” Katara leaned closer to examine the wound, even as her stomach churned at the gruesome sight. “I don’t know…”

“Katara, you have to try.” Aang said, and when Katara met his watery gaze, she knew that he was right. She couldn’t let him die, even after everything he had done.

"Aang, get me more water.” She said, pulling the stopper out of her water flask and noting that she had very little left. “Toph, clean badges, sheets, blankets, anything.”

There were rocks and dirt under Zuko’s wound, and Katara knew she needed to get him somewhere clean and sanitary, but she didn’t want to risk moving him until the wound had stopped bleeding.

Bending a small amount of water out of her waterskin, Katara formed a bubble of water around her hands and laid them gently on Zuko’s side. There was no response, which bothered her more than if she had made him groan in pain. Was he too far gone to save?

No. She thought. You can’t think like that, Katara. Just keep going.

The water began to glow around her hands, the wound beginning to close.

“Katara, wait!” Sokka yelped, jutting out a hand to wrap around Katara’s arm.

“What?” Her concentration broke, and the water around her hands fell, splashing over Zuko’s side and washing away some of the blood, only for it to be replaced. “Sokka, what do you think you’re doing?”

“The infection, Katara!” He said earnestly, eyes wide.

“What about it?”

“When you heal a wound, does it heal the infection too, or just close the skin around it?”

“What?” Katara frowned. What was he trying to say?

“Will it heal the infection, or will it just seal it inside?” Sokka tried again, gesturing to Zuko’s side. “If it just closes the skin around it, the infection will grow.” He met her stare, eyes full of fear. “Katara, that would kill him.”

“I-” Katara paused. She really didn’t know anything about her healing powers. “I don’t know.”

“What do we do?” Sokka asked.

“I don’t know.” Katara repeated dumbly, hunching over Zuko to inspect the stab wound. Bending more water, she rinsed his side off, examining the edge of the wound. It was red and inflamed, and warm to the touch. It was noticeably smaller than when she’d first started healing, but the red of the infection still reached from where it had been. “You’re right.” She said emotionlessly, sitting back. “It’s just sealing the infection inside.”

“So what can we do?” Sokka asked again.

“We’ll have to take care of it without my healing.” Katara said, looking up as Toph ran back into the clearing. She dropped her load of bandages and blankets by Katara, and glanced nervously at the siblings.

“Will he be okay?” She asked as Katara wet one of the strips of blanket and dabbed at the blood on Zuko’s side.

“I hope so.” Katara said. “I really hope so.”

Chapter Text

Zuko was falling. It was dark and cold, that much he knew, but other than that, he couldn’t tell anything about his surroundings. There was no left, no right, no up, no down, no direction. Zuko’s heart pounded in his chest. Where was he?

Sweat trickled down his back, and even though he knew he was falling, he felt no wind in his hair, no outward signs of movement at all.

He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Was he going to fall forever?

“Zuko!”

The name rang out in the darkness, a sound that was layered, the voices of his uncle, mother, sister, father, and everyone he knew twisting together to form one call, toneless, neither approving nor disapproving, neither warm nor cold.

The darkness around him transformed into something more solid, and before he could brace himself, Zuko landed on the floor. wincing as his back connected with the cool floor.
He lay there, panting, as the room came into focus around him. His heart lurched as he recognized the dueling room back in the fire palace. Warm firelight flickered around him, the torches on the walls casting shifting shadows around the high-ceilinged room. The room was filled to the brim with the chattering voices of the shades that lingered in clumps, their words impossible to pick out, but unmistakably excited.

None of them had solid forms or faces, they were only a collection of darkness, various shades and hues of gray and black curling inside their hazy forms like barely contained candle smoke.

Zuko scuttled away hastily from the shadow-people closest to him until he bumped into a stone structure behind him. Leaping to his feet, Zuko clambered on top of the stone platform, where no shadow-people were gathered.

Once he was in the middle of the platform, Zuko let out a breath he hadn’t realized that he had been holding. The Shadow-people were menacing, somehow, even though they hadn’t even moved towards him. Something about them seemed wrong, even more so than their appearance.

The room was bright around him, the red banners of the fire nation hanging off the walls, just like he remembered. How had he gotten back to the fire nation? The last thing he remembered was…

“Zuko!”

He spun around, pulse suddenly racing. He would recognize that voice anywhere. Sure enough, his father was striding confidently toward him from the other end of the platform, long robes swishing across the tiles of the stone floor. Zuko tried to speak, but no words came out.

His father was close now, barely three feet away.

Breathing shakily, Zuko straightened, pushing his shoulders back and holding his head high. He would not, could not, let his father see him afraid.
Ozai halted a foot away from him, casting a critical eye over his son.

“Well, Zuko,” He said, disdain oozing from his voice. “Now are you ready to fight for your honor?”

Zuko froze. No. He couldn’t do this. Not again.

“Come and fight, Prince Zuko.” Ozai’s lips quirked upward in a cruel smile, and Zuko’s breath caught.

No. He wasn’t here. It was over. Wasn’t it?

“You will learn respect.” Ozai cast his robes aside, revealing the typical Agni Kai armbands. Zuko stumbled backwards, needing to get away, anywhere, anywhere but here. He tripped, slamming his back against the cold stone floor.

“And suffering will be your teacher.” His father loomed over him, face hidden in shadows.

“No!” Zuko shouted, raising an arm to block the strike he knew would come, but he couldn’t move his arms. He couldn't move. He was paralyzed with fear.

Ozai chuckled as he lifted his hand high, palm filling with bright flames. The Shadow-people in the audience gasped, then began to laugh. Slowly at first, but picking up speed as Ozai lowered his burning hand toward Zuko’s face.

“NO!” Zuko screamed as the heat neared his face, singing his nose and cheeks. His eyes widened in terror as his Father smiled viciously.

“Come now, Zuko, try not to scream.”

The flames touched Zuko’s face, covering his eye.

Zuko screamed.

***

“What’s going on?” Aang wrung his hands nervously. Zuko was lying on top of his bedroll, pale face covered with sweat. They had moved him to the Western Air Temple after wrapping a bandage carefully around his side. Blood was already soaked through the bandage, and the sun had just begun to cast its morning rays over the unconscious prince.

In the morning light, the group could see just how bad Zuko really looked. His thin frame trembled forcefully, and he whimpered anytime anyone touched him. His forehead was burning to the touch, and although firebender usually ran warm, there was no mistaking the high fever.

Now, though, he began to thrash in his sleep, muttering and mumbling words that no one could quite make out. Aang thought he caught the words Father, please, and no, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Katara!” He shouted, beginning to panic. “Katara! Help!”

She leapt up from her position by the fire, racing over to where Aang was sitting keeping watch over Zuko.

“What is it?” She asked.

“I don’t know, he just started moving and muttering,” Aang said, watery eyes meeting Katara’s. “I don’t know what to do. Is it from the infection?”

“Maybe.” Katara pushed past him, kneeling by Zuko’s side. His thrashing was growing worse, and Aang was beginning to worry that he would tear his wound open more. “Sokka, hold him down!” Katara called, feeling Zuko’s forehead. She frowned and uncorked her waterskin, bending a little water to rest on his forehead to cool him down.

“I think he’s having a nightmare.” Aang said, watching helplessly as Zuko moaned in his sleep.

“You’re right.” Toph said, kneeling by his other side. “Zuko! Hey, Zuko, wake up!” She shook his shoulder gently, but Zuko once shuddered and moaned, turning away from the touch. “Zuko?” Toph tried again, louder this time. “Zuko!”

They tried for the next five minutes to wake up the unconscious firebender, but to no avail.

“Will he ever wake up?” Aang asked Katara, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over. He never had been able to handle death very well, he had always been taught that life was sacred. If Zuko died when Aang could have done something to prevent it, well, his death would be in Aang's hands.

***

“You deserve this. You know that, right, Zuko?”

Pain.

Zuko’s world had crumbled, leaving only pain and heat. He could feel his father’s hand pressing against his face, hotter than the sun itself.

The smell of burning flesh filled his nose, the vile scent forcing its way down his throat and into his lungs. He heard a scream, and only after a second realized that it had come from him.

The fire – the pain – was the only thing he could focus on. Fire, worming its way into his skin, burning and burning and burning and burning, filling every corner of his being, washing away his identity with a tidal wave of heat.

He was no longer Zuko, former prince of the fire nation, he was fire. He was flame, he was…

“Pathetic.” Ozai’s cruel voice rang in Zuko’s ears, almost cold enough to soothe the heat. “You will never be enough, Zuko. You will never make me proud. You are a failure, a disappointment.”

No! Zuko wanted to scream, yell at his father that he was enough, that he was loved.

“Loved?” Ozai said, as if reading his thoughts. “Who could ever love you? Who could ever love a miserable worm like you?”

Zuko’s eye burned. He could feel the moment it melted away, and then the heat was inside his head, inside his mind, flaming tongues seizing his mind and squeezing.

“Oh, Zuzu.”

Zuko forced his one eye, blurry with tears, to focus on the figure in front of him. His father was gone, leaving the familiar silhouette of his sister. The flames turned blue, lightning stabbing its sharp needles into him over and over and over.

“You always were the weaker of us. You never could match up against me. You’re pathetic.”

Then she was gone, and in her place stood his uncle. Zuko wanted to cry out in relief. You’re here! You’re here to save me!

But the hand was still there, still over his charred and burnt flesh, still feeding endless fire into every fiber of Zuko’s being.

“I never loved you, Zuko.” Iroh’s voice was sad, almost sympathetic. “I never truly loved you. You were lying to yourself to believe I did. How could I love you? You’re unlovable.”

Please, please. Zuko tried to shout. Please tell me that this is a trick, please.

“You’re weak.” Iroh shook his head, pressing his hand harder into Zuko’s face. “I thought you could amount to something, but I suppose I was wrong. You are no nephew of mine.”

Somehow, the words hurt even more than the fire, crushing his soul instead of his body. Everything dropped away. His body turned numb, which Zuko was thankful for, and his thoughts settled into a pattern.

I am nothing. I am no one. I am nothing. I am no one. I am nothing. I am no one.

“Zuko.”

He blinked. The dueling room was gone. He curled in on himself, squeezing his eye shut and blocking out the world. He didn’t want to be here anymore. He didn’t want to be him anymore.

The pain had gone completely now, leaving him so dull and empty he almost wished for the fire, because then at least he could feel something.

“Zuko, look at me, darling.” Was that–? No, Zuko curled tighter into his protective ball. She couldn’t be here. She couldn’t.

“Look at me, my precious boy.”

Zuko hardly dared to hope. Could it really be–? A soft hand rested on his head, warm and all too familiar.

His mother sighed, and Zuko heard a rustle of fabric as she sat beside him.

“I love you.” She said quietly, running her hand through his tangled hair.

Tentatively, Zuko raised his face from where it had been buried in his arms, squinting as his eye – eyes? He couldn’t tell what was real or fake anymore – adjusted to the low light. She was there. She was there.

Choking back a sob, Zuko threw himself into her arms. He didn’t care if it was pathetic, he needed her. He needed her like plants need the sun, like the sun needs the moon, like fire needs water.

“Shh, it’s okay.” She enveloped him in a hug that felt like the embrace of a ray of light. “It’s all going to be okay.”

“No, no it’s not.” Zuko’s voice trembled, and another wave of tears cascaded down his cheeks. “You’re g-gone, a-and it’s my fault, and I was wrong about e-everything, and now

I- I don’t know what to do.”

“Zuko, my wonderful son, look at me.”

He felt her soft touch on his cheek, turning his face up to look at her. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I had to go, I really am, but it was for the best. You’ll understand someday.”

“But-”

“No, Zuko, listen.” Her soft amber eyes were understanding and compassionate. “You’ve made mistakes, yes. We all have. Yes, you were wrong. But that doesn’t matter now, because you’re trying to be better. You’re trying to make it right. It will be hard, don’t think it won’t, but you can do it. You are strong enough. You are enough.”

“How do you know?” He hiccuped, tears finally subsiding.

“Because,” she said, laying her hand on her chest over her heart. “I know in here.”

“But how do you know?” He insisted, slipping his clammy hand into hers.

“Oh, Zuko.” She said, giving him a sad smile. “I’m sorry that you have to go through this, I really am. You don’t deserve this.”

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out, burying his face in her shoulder.

“I know.” She pressed a tender kiss to the top of his head, and he held back another round of tears. Agni, how he missed this.

“You have to go now,” She said, pushing him to arms length. “Wake up, make it right.”

“But if I go–” He broke off, already dreading the idea of leaving his mother.

“Zuko, darling, you have to.” She smiled, a proud, if somewhat sad, smile. “But never, ever forget that I love you.”

“I- I love you too.” He managed a smile for her, even as it felt like his heart was ripped out by the pain of losing her again.

And if he woke up with tears on his face, well, sometimes even the brightest of flames flicker.

Chapter Text

“So, you want to talk about it?” Toph set her bowl of rice down and plopped down next to Zuko. He sat slumped against the wall, contemplating his food.

“Talk about what?” He asked, slowly taking a bite. Toph could feel his racing pulse and grimaced inwardly. She and Zuko were the only ones in the pavilion. Katara had mumbled a word or two about sleep and then practically ran to get away from Zuko. Sokka followed her, of course, and the others were off in the giant Pai Sho room.

Toph could tell that Zuko was still in pain – a lot of it – but he was too stubborn to ask for help, so she had ended up forcing him to eat. He insisted that he was well enough to begin teaching Aang firebending, but Toph had shot that idea down the second Zuko suggested it.

“I dunno.” Toph shrugged. “Talk about your nightmare, maybe, or however you got that sword wound in the first place.”

“Oh,” Zuko said awkwardly, filling the uncomfortable silence with another bite of rice.

Oh well. Toph thought. At least he’s eating. She knew she wouldn’t get any answers. Zuko wasn’t exactly the most gushy, gushy, talk about feelings type. She admired that.

“So anyway.” Toph fidgeted with the hem of her tunic. She was honestly kinda surprised the rest of the Gaang had left her alone with Zuko, but they were too frazzled to remember. Or they were so desperate to get away from him that they didn’t care.

And really, who wouldn’t be frazzled? The former fire nation prince shows up asking to join the same team he’s been hunting forever, then later, they find that same prince bleeding out in the woods. None of the others had even noticed that he was hurt. Surely he gave some sign besides his racing heart, right? Signs that could be seen?

He was doing better now, the fever had broken sometime late in the night, but he was still far from okay.

“Maybe let’s wait until everyone’s together,” Zuko said, startling Toph out of her thoughts. “I know you’re all going to want to hear the story. There’s not a whole lot to tell, but I’d really rather not tell it more than once.”

“You’d tell us? Really?” She felt for a lie, but felt nothing. “Willingly, without putting up a fight or anything?”

“I guess so.” Zuko said, hunching further in on himself and letting out a soft huff of pain. “You won’t trust me if I keep secrets, and it’s not a big deal or anything, I just got stabbed trying to escape the bunker.”

“Yeah, it’s totally not a big deal that you got stabbed.” Toph scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Wait. Bunker? You were there?”

Zuko nodded. “The bunker is a large place. I ran into some guards and couldn’t take them all out without my bending.”

“How many?” Toph asked, curious.

Zuko grimaced, and Toph felt a little bad about questioning him, but not bad enough to stop. “Six. I took down four, but one got in a solid hit, and that’s all it takes.” His voice held a tinge of defensiveness that Toph was all too familiar with. It was the defensiveness she had felt every day growing up, when she had tried desperately to please her parents. Maybe she and Zuko had more in common than she thought.

“You know, four without bending is pretty impressive,” She said, trying to pass it off as a nonchalant comment, and apparently it worked, because Zuko sat a little straighter and held his head a little higher. And besides, it was true, taking down four highly trained guards without bending was a feat, and Toph found herself wondering if she could beat him, if it came down to it.

Hopefully, it never did.

They sat in companionable silence for a short time, both contemplating the odd paths they had found themselves on.

Later, Toph would bemoan the breaking of the silence. She had definitely had enough explosions to last a lifetime.

***

“I don’t care if he’s still hurt, I can’t stand being around him!” Katara threw her hands in the air, whirling to face her brother. “Sokka, you can’t really want to keep him around!”

“Well, I mean, it’s not ideal, but he is a firebender.” Sokka shrugged, trying to placate his irate sister. “And aren’t you even a little curious where he got stabbed?”

“I already told you I don’t care!” Katara groaned, barely able to keep herself from punching a wall.

“You kinda seemed to care when you were staying up all night watching over him,” He said smugly.

Suddenly Sokka’s face seemed a lot more punchable than the wall. “That’s because I didn’t want his death to be on my hands, you idiot!”

“Yeah, sure, but he’s here and doesn’t seem to be evil incarnate.” Sokka took a step towards Katara, reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Not evil incarnate?” Katara shoved his hand off of her shoulder with far more force than strictly necessary. “He’s been here, what, a day? And he’s been conscious for, what, three minutes? How could you possibly know he’s not evil incarnate?”

“I’m just saying that maybe we should give him a chance.” Sokka tried again, holding up his hands in a placating gesture that didn’t seem to work all that well.

“A chance for what?” Her voice was rising, now well inside the shriek range. “A chance to capture Aang? A chance to kill us all?”

“Katara, I really don’t think–”

A loud explosion rocked the Temple, throwing them both off balance. Katara spared just enough time to shoot an ‘I told you so’ glare in Sokka’s direction before sprinting in the direction the explosion had come from.

She really was going to kill Zuko this time. Who cares if she had just stayed up all night healing him. He would face her wrath.

***

Toph had never been more grateful to be blind. Well, not exactly. She was grateful that she had to have learned how to sense with her feet. If she hadn’t, both she and Zuko would be fried nice and crispy by now.

Vibrations, too large to be wildlife and too large to be any of the group, had thrummed through the earth, straight to her waiting feet.

“Get down!” She shouted, twisting her heel. A slab of earth burst out of the ground, shielding both her and Zuko as an explosion of fire slammed into it. She grunted, jerking her hands up from her sides to add supports to the stone barricade. “Alright, here’s the plan,” She said, feeling the man leap off his perch. “You get deeper in the temple and stay there, I’ll handle this.”

“I can help!” Zuko protested, even as his pulse and heartbeat sped up from adrenaline and pain. Liar.

“Nope, not going to happen.” Toph stomped one foot, shooting a column of stone to where Combustion Man should land right about…

Even through the stone wall, Toph could hear the satisfying smack as the stone connected with his chest, and the brief moment of ‘sight’ was enough to know it was a solid hit. “Score.” She grinned, before remembering that she had a stubborn firebender to deal with. “Listen, Zuko, you’re injured. You could get injured more. Just stay out of this, okay?”

“Toph-”

“You’re not listening to me.”

“Yeah well-”

Zuko’s argument was cut off as Toph grabbed him by the arm and yanked him forward, punching a hole in the rock and dragging him into the open. She felt Combustion Man land about ten feet away. That should be enough time.

“Let me go!” Zuko pulled his arm away from Toph’s grip, stumbling back and catching himself haphazardly on a pillar beside him. “Toph-”

“Zuko, go now.”

“Get away from her!” Katara’s angry shout nearly made Toph wince. Seriously, her footsteps were so loud. Also, this was not going to help things. “Zuko, I’m going to kill you!”

“Katara!” Toph shouted, trying to keep track of all the maniacs running in different directions at once. “Stop!”

Katara, to everyone's utter shock, did not stop.

Toph felt Katara shift into a fighting stance, and Zuko threw himself to the side. Then there were large icicles embedded into the pillar where Zuko’s head had just been a second before. Huh, Toph thought. Katara really isn’t playing around.

“Katara, stop, this isn’t Zuko’s fault!” Toph yelled, but Katara ignored her, instead bending a wave of water at Zuko, who rolled out of the way, far slower than Toph would have liked. He clearly was not ready for a battle. “Alright, that’s enough.” She muttered, bending a wall of earth in between Katara and Zuko. “Now can we talk this out like civilized people?”

“Combustion Man!” Zuko all but screamed, pointing to something Toph couldn’t see.

Well, beans.

An explosion rocked the temple, and Toph had just enough time to throw up a wall of rock to keep them all from being toasted.

And then, because the day couldn’t get any worse, the ground caved in.

***

“Did you hear something?” Aang asked Haru as he slid his white lotus piece across the board. “I could’ve sworn I heard something.”

"I didn’t hear anything.” Haru frowned in concentration. He and Aang were evenly matched, at least in Pai Sho, and already had played two games, Aang winning one, Haru winning the other. This was the final game to decide who would win it all, ‘all’ meaning a few fruits Momo had found. Teo and The Duke had wandered off deeper into the temple, and nothing had broken the tense silence.

Well, until the sound Aang thought he had heard. He shrugged. “You’re right, it’s probably nothing.”

***

Katara hit the ground hard, grunting as small chunks of debris crumbled on top of her. She blinked, eyes adjusting to the sudden darkness. “Toph! Sokka!” She struggled to find her footing on the uneven ground. She glanced up. Large stones had fallen together, holding each other up. By some miracle, Katara was safe, but not for long.

The patchwork of earth that had become her ceiling was low, barely two feet from her head. The space was dark and small, and Katara could feel the beginnings of panic setting in.

No, stay calm. She told herself. There was no sign of Sokka or Toph, which meant they were safe. Or they were…

Concentrate!

Luckily, she hadn’t been hurt in the fall, except for a scraped elbow and small cut above her eyebrow. Well, there was nothing to do now but wait.

One of the piles of rubble to her right shifted the slightest bit. Her heart jolted. “Toph? Sokka?” Clambering over the piles of debris, Katara knelt beside the pile of earth, digging until she caught the slightest glimpse of an arm. Her heart began to hammer in her chest. What if it was her brother under there? What if he was-

No, she couldn’t think like that.

The rubble moaned, a soft noise, and Katara resumed her efforts. She dug deeper and deeper until she finally moved a rock revealing a tangle of messy black hair, and there, just barely enough to be seen, the barest hint of a scar.

Of course. Of course it had to be him. This was just her luck. She was stuck under piles of unsteady rubble that may cave in and crush her, and she was stuck there with him.

Katara put the rock she had just moved back where it came from, covering Zuko’s face. He could fend for himself. And besides, he deserved it! He had attacked Toph! Right?
Well, even if he hadn’t, he deserved this.

Crossing her arms tightly over her chest, Katara turned away from where Zuko was still half buried under mounds of dirt, listening hard for sounds of the battle still going on above them.

“-Ara?”

She tensed at the sudden voice behind her.

“Katara?”

Zuko’s voice was weak and unsure, and sounded very much in pain.

Good! She thought. Let him hurt! He certainly caused us enough trouble.

“Katara, please.” Zuko coughed, a wet sound that made Katara wince, no matter how much she hated him. “I didn’t hurt Toph. I– I wouldn’t. She’s the only one that’s been nice to me, and I want to be her–”

Her what? Katara could stop herself from wondering. Wait, no, she didn’t care. She didn’t care if no one was nice to him, he was a terrible person and deserved every nasty comment he got.

“-Her friend.” He finished, and Katara couldn’t help feeling a pang of– no, she didn’t care. “I don’t really know if I’ve had friends before. I mean, I had Mai, Ty Lee, and Azula, but I don’t really think–” He cut off mid-sentence, heaving for air, and Katara nearly broke her silence. So what if he didn’t have any friends? That didn’t excuse his actions.

“I don’t really think they liked me. Maybe Mai, we dated for a while, but I never could tell what she was thinking.”

Katara felt that pang again, what was it? Hate, that must be it. She hated anyone who Zuko was ever in contact with. Well, except for Toph, of course.

“Where was I going with this? Oh. Yeah.” His voice was thin and breathy, and Katara could tell even without looking that he was wincing. “I wouldn’t hurt Toph, not on purpose.”

“So what?” Katara whirled, breaking her rule of silence. Only parts of Zuko’s arm and leg were visible, but the rock that Katara had put back on his face had slid, revealing his scarred amber eye. “So what? Am I just supposed to trust you now? Never mind the fact that you’ve been our enemy for years, you come waltzing into camp suddenly good and expect us to trust you?”

“No, I-”

“You’ll never change! You might convince yourself that you’re good now, but you’ll always revert back to your old ways!” Her voice echoed around the small bubble of space, angry words reverberating again and again. “You’re rotten to the core, Zuko, and nothing you do will ever change that! You’ve done too many terrible things to be redeemed.”

Zuko flinched, and Katara smiled, a vicious, cold grin. “You’re a snake, Zuko. You get people to see good in you, to think that there’s actually something human in you, and then you turn around and stab them in the back. You don’t deserve friendship.”

Under the heavy chunks of rock, Zuko shifted, slowly and surely twisting his way out from the stone prison. He turned away from Katara, huddling into himself and curling into as small of a ball as possible. When he spoke, the words were nearly impossible to make out.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was thick, as if laced with tears. “I know you’ll never forgive me, but I need you to know that I’m sorry, for everything I’ve done.”

“Sorry doesn’t mean anything.” Katara hissed, turning her back to Zuko. “Sorry doesn’t bring my mother back.”

“No,” Zuko said. “It doesn’t. But I’m sorry anyway.”

And Katara almost believed him.

Chapter Text

Sokka often felt out of his league. Not that he would tell anyone that, of course. Everyone around him was basically a superhero, with their bending, and him? Well, he had a boomerang.

Now, though? Everyone would tremble before the might of the boomerang! He squinted, lining up the path of the boomerang with where the latest explosion had hit.

“What are you doing?” Toph asked, curious. They were hiding around one of the many columns. The cave in was in front of them; quite a large chunk of the temple had fallen away, roughly fifteen feet across.

Sokka shuddered to think of what might have happened to Katara. But no. She was fine. She could take care of herself. Right now he had other things to worry about.

Namely, Combustion Man. He ignored Toph’s question, sticking his tongue out to the side as he concentrated, taking into account the wind and any possible obstructions.

Taking a deep breath, Sokka threw the boomerang.

For a second, there was nothing, then, with a quiet thunk, it was over. A giant explosion rocked the temple, and Sokka stumbled, trying to keep his balance.

Then, there was quiet. Sokka slid around the wall, peeking around the side. There was a smoking crater where Combustion Man had once stood. Heart pounding in his chest, Sokka cautiously crept out toward the crater. Was he… was he dead?

“Good throw, Sokka.” Toph said, nodding her approval. “I’m going to dig them out of the pit now. You might want to stand back.”

“Yeah, okay.” Sokka couldn’t quite take a full breath. Not until he saw. Not until he knew. Almost without conscious thought, he began to move toward where Combustion Man had been standing, one foot in front of the other, until he was there, where the explosion had blackened the ground with soot and ash.

He scanned the ground, dreading what he might find.

After five minutes, he almost gave up. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glint of metal. His breath was shallow and fast as he picked his way over the fallen rocks to the metal.

There, half buried under rubble, lay the body of Combustion Man. The half of him that Sokka could see was charred and blackened, burned flesh hanging off his bones like wet sealskin off the huts at the Southern Water Tribe. His eyes were open, staring at nothing, seeing nothing. What was worst of all, though, was his forehead. The very center of his forehead was caved in, dipping into his skull. Jagged red lines spread outward from the indent, deep cuts that split his skin in two.

Sokka nearly threw up. Had he– Had he really done this?

He had killed– He had murdered– He…

“Mamma!” Sokka ran through the village, cradling a small baby penguin in his hands. “Mamma!”

He nearly crashed into her back, boots scuffing into the freshly fallen snow. She turned around, kind eyes taking in the sight of Sokka, tears running down his face. “Hush now, calm down,” She said, crouching down beside him. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Sokka nodded, then shook his head. “I- Mamma, I killed it!” Sobbing, he held out the penguin’s broken body to his mother. She took it gently, inspecting the baby animal. “I didn’t mean to, Mamma, I swear! I was just out playing in the snow with Daddy’s club. I know I shouldn’t have taken it, and I’m sorry, but then I accidentally hit it, and I didn’t mean to, but now it’s dead and it’s all my fault!”

“Shh.” Sokka’s mother shushed him, brushing the tears away from his cheeks with one hand. “I know, Sokka. It was an accident.”

“But it’s dead!” He couldn’t stop the wail. He had seen dead animals before, even dead people, but this was different. This was his fault. He was the reason the baby penguin was dead. He was the reason the penguin would never grow up and find a mate, never have babies of its own.

“Sokka, look at me.” His mother’s voice was gentle but firm, and Sokka slowly raised his eyes to meet his mother’s gaze. “I’m sorry this happened to you, but you can’t keep beating yourself up over it, okay? Accidents happen.”

“But I-”

"I know. But it’s over now, and all you can do is learn from it and move on.”

Sokka sniffled. “But how can I move on?”

“You learn from your mistakes and promise not to repeat them.” Sighing, his mother set the baby penguin down in the snow and cupped her son’s face in her hands.

“But what if I-” He broke off, burying his face into her shoulder, her soft furs tickling his nose.

“Sokka.” She hugged him, a protective embrace that he wished would never end. “This one action does not define you. You made a mistake, but now you won’t make it again.”

“How do you know?” He asked, voice muffled by her shoulder.

“I know in here.” She pushed him away gently, placing a hand over her heart. “And because I know you. You’re a good person, Sokka, no matter how much you fight with your sister. You are a good person, and nothing can ever change that.”

Something like this could change that, couldn’t it? How could he still be a good person after what he’d done? Stumbling backward, Sokka tore his gaze from the mutilated body of the fire nation assassin, but the image still lingered, hovering at the edges of his vision.

Sokka began to run. He didn’t know where, but he knew that he needed to get out of here. Anywhere but here. He couldn’t face Aang. He couldn’t face Katara or Toph. Not once they knew what he’d done. They’d see him like the monster he was. Like the murderer he had become.

***

Zuko was barely holding on.

He ached. It felt like his whole body was on fire, each bruise and cut a reminder of his failures. He had been right there, he should have been able to help. Instead, what had he done? Slowed down Toph? Become a liability?

He never should have come here. Katara was right. He had done too many terrible things to redeem himself. He had been deluding himself to believe otherwise.

Toph had unburied them both, and now the rest of the Gaang was off, recovering. Aang had finally appeared from where he had been playing Pai Sho, and now had disappeared to who-knows-where. Katara was packing up camp and preparing to move, Toph was busy stabilizing the Temple, and Sokka, well, it seemed that he had just disappeared.

Aang had been the one to find Combustion Man. He had thrown up and began to cry. Zuko just stared, swaying on his feet from exhaustion.

He was no stranger to death. In his time in the fire nation and traveling the world searching for the Avatar, he had seen more than his fair share of pain and death.

In fact, he knew, probably better than anyone, what Sokka was going through.

The first time Zuko had killed was in self defense. He and his uncle had been ambushed on the road on their way back to their campsite. The first had been short but bloody. His
uncle had dispatched three soldiers with ease, knocking them unconscious. Zuko, on the other hand, had gotten cornered by one of the most experienced soldiers, and was in a fight for his life.

He could still remember the panic that had filled his lungs, each breath like breathing fire, filling every fiber of his being with adrenaline and purpose. He remembered the one thought circling his head.

I will not die. I will survive. I will not die. I will survive. I will not die.

The words had repeated over and over again, and Zuko had lost every other thought. All he knew was that he was going to survive. And he did.

The soldier didn’t.

Zuko remembered, in excruciating detail, the exact second that the life left the soldier’s eyes. He toppled backwards, one of Zuko’s swords embedded deep in his chest, red blooming from around the metal and dripping down his armor.

Zuko shook his head. He couldn’t get lost in memories now. The team didn’t need him, but they did need Sokka.

He knew what he had to do.

Wrapping his arm around his chest, Zuko forced himself to take a step. Pain, jagged and sharp, ran up his leg, but still he put one foot in front of the other. That’s it. One step.
Two steps. Three.

There. He couldn’t rest yet. Soon. But not yet.

***

Aang couldn’t stop the tears.

He tried, he really did. But every time he thought his tears would dry, he remembered Combustion Man’s dead, unseeing eyes, and more tears would pour down his face.

So he did what he always did. He ran.

***

Katara felt sick.

Toph had helped her climb out of the cavern, and she had immediately stalked away from Zuko, who was swaying on his feet. She searched for Sokka, but he was gone.
She couldn’t think. Zuko, Sokka, Combustion Man, it was all too much. So, she packed up camp.

Better to keep distracted. It was easier that way.

***

Toph was worried.

She checked Katara and Zuko over for injuries, and though she was nearly frantic over Zuko’s injuries, she had to stabilize the Temple before the entire structure crumbled and fell. She sighed, bending another pillar across the entrance to the cavern.

The team was falling apart, and she had no idea how to stop it.

***

Iroh made tea.

Humming quietly to himself, he rummaged around the cupboard for a teacup. Pulling out two, he set the teapot down on the table and laid out a snack of slightly stale bread. Shaking his head sadly, Iroh poured one cup of tea for himself and left the other empty teacup opposite him.

One day, he hoped, his nephew would be there to drink tea with him.

Chapter Text

Zuko didn’t know how long he had been wandering. The sun was setting now, and he still hadn’t found Sokka. Each step sent tendrils of pain shooting up his leg, but it was duller now, as if he was too tired to even hurt properly. His side, though, hurt most of all. It burned, reminding him of– No, better not to go there.

A long time ago, when he was young, his mother had told him a story. Now, he clung to that memory like it was the last thing keeping him upright. Then again, maybe it was.

“Once upon a time,” His mother began, tucking the covers tighter around Zuko’s chin and smoothing Azula’s hair away from her forehead. “There lived a brave warrior named Zhang. He was strong and ferocious, but also kind and caring.”

“Oh, boo,” Azula said, rolling her eyes. “You can’t be a warrior and kind too, that’s not how it works.”

“Shh, let me tell the story. Now Zhang traveled the world, slaying the monsters that terrorized small villages. He would teach the townsfolk how to defend themselves, and inspire the children with stories of his grand adventures. Then, one day, he received a letter from a small village high in the mountains. They had been attacked many times by a Scorpion-Bear, and their village was nearly wiped out. Now, the trip through the mountains was a long, hard journey, and Zhang knew it was not a decision to make lightly. But he couldn’t let the village suffer, not when he could help. So, he set off.”

“Well, that’s dumb.” Azula huffed, annoyed. “Why on Earth would he help some random village that he doesn’t even know? I mean, he’d have to go through the mountains, he might die before he even reaches the village! Honestly, it’s not worth it.”

“And Scorpion-Bears are really scary.” Zuko added, wiggling further under the blankets. “He could be hurt.”

“Zhang decided to help the village because it was the right thing to do,” Ursa said, giving them both stern glances. “Now, don’t interrupt. He packed up his sword and some food for the road and began his long journey. Halfway through the mountains, a giant snow storm trapped him in a cave. He knew that he didn’t have enough food to last him until the snow melted, so he began to dig his way out. The snow was thick, and he nearly gave up, but each time he thought he couldn’t continue, he thought about the poor villagers who needed him and found the strength to carry on.

“Eventually, he dug his way out of the cave and continued on his way. On his journey he encountered many hardships, and soon ran out of food, for the village he was traveling
to was small and remote, and he had no chances to restock on supplies.”

“Does he die?” Zuko asked, eyes widening.

“He should,” Azula said, sneering. “That’s what you get for being a goody two-shoes.”

Ursa frowned down at her daughter. “Azula!”

“What?” Azula shrugged. “It’s true.”

“No, Zuko, he doesn’t die. It was a struggle, and many times he swore to give up, but each time he did, he remembered his promise to help the small village. Sometimes, that was the only thought keeping him on his feet. He swore that he would fulfill his destiny.”

Azula yawned. “Boring.”

“Finally,” Ursa said, warning clear in her voice. “He made it to the village and fought off the Scorpion-Bear, the end.”

“How anticlimactic.” Azula deadpanned.

“That’s not the point of the story.” Zuko said, struggling to keep his eyes open.

Azula pulled a nasty face at him. “Oh yeah? Then what is the point?”

“The point is that Zhang knew he had to fulfill his destiny, and he wouldn’t give up, even when it got hard.”

“Maybe, but that destiny is so basic.” Azula rolled her eyes. “When I fulfill my destiny, it will be something grander than slaying some silly beast.”

“Scorpion-Bears aren’t silly.” Zuko said.

“Ugh. All I’m saying is that I am going to be better than stupid old Zhang. I’ll be better than you all.”

“That’s enough, Azula.” Ursa gave her a warning look, standing and brushing off her gown. “Goodnight my loves.”

“Goodnight.” Zuko said, giving her a smile, while Asula simply sighed, rolling her eyes yet again.

That night, Zuko’s dreams were filled with adventures and brave warriors.

Zuko really wished it was that easy to fulfill your destiny. It seemed to him that Zhang had it pretty black and white, while he only had a jumbled mess of gray.

He stumbled, foot catching on a tree root sticking into the deer trail he was following. Wincing, he threw out a hand to catch himself on the tree trunk. His body ached, and he was clammy and cold.

Logically, he knew that he would be of more use to the team if he could pull himself together and convince Sokka to return. They needed him. They needed him like no one would even need Zuko.

Shaking his head to clear it, Zuko forced himself back upright, even as the world spun around him.

Keep going. That’s all he had to do.

Keep going and find Sokka. Keep going and talk to him. Keep going and then…

Well, he didn’t know what came next. He couldn’t think too far ahead, all he had to do was keep going.

***

Sokka was not in the mood to talk. Actually, he was fairly sure he was dying. He couldn’t breathe. His shallow breaths came too quickly, and he curled into himself, trying to shove the panic down.

He was going to be fine. He was going to be just fine. He was lying.

Sokka choked on his sob, struggling to draw in another shallow breath. His pulse raced, and he could hear his heartbeat thudding in his ears, louder than anything he had ever heard. Each heartbeat was an explosion, the same explosion that had consumed Combustion Man. The same explosion that had taken a life. The same explosion that Sokka had caused.

He couldn’t think. The only thing he saw when he closed his eyes was the dead, unseeing eyes of the fire nation assassin. He knew that he was hyper-fixating. He knew that he should just let it go. But how could he?

He barely felt the tears on his cheeks as he gasped for air, the world a blur around him.

He was going to die. He was going to die here, all alone, and no one would know. No one would ever find him. They’d move on, in time, and forget all about him. It would be like he had never even existed. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to-

“Sokka.”

He shuddered, the voice far away and distant.

“Sokka, breathe.”

He was going to die and no one would know.

“Breathe with me. In, out. In, out.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. He was going to die, just like Combustion Man.

“In, out. Come on, Sokka, you can do it. Just match me, okay?”

Breathe.

“That’s it. You’re doing great.”

Breathe. One, two, one, two.

“In, out. In, out. There you go.”

Sokka slowly opened his eyes as his frantic sobs subsided. There was a blurry figure crouched in front of him, one warm hand on his shoulder. He sniffled, uncurling himself slightly from his protective ball.

“Hey Sokka, how are you feeling?” The figure asked, shifting away from him and taking its hand away. Sokka shivered. It was cold, he realized, and dark. The only light came from the moon, which was partially hidden by clouds.

Sokka pushed himself to sit, wiping at the tears on his face. Slowly, the figure came into focus, and Sokka was relieved to find that it was Zuko. Zuko would understand. He’d understand because of all the terrible things he had done. He was worse than Sokka, surely that counted for something?

“I’m fine.” He choked out as his breathing settled into a steadier rhythm.

“Listen, I know what you’re going through.” Zuko said, leaning back to give Sokka space. “I know how hard it is, to know that you’re the reason someone is dead. But you can’t blame yourself for acting in self-defense. Anyone would have done the same. It’s human instinct.”

“I guess.” Sokka tried to sound convincing, failing miserably.

Zuko sighed, running a shaky hand through his hair. “Look. I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to right now, and I respect that.”

No, actually, you might be the only one I want to talk to. Sokka wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“But you need to go back to the group. Your sister needs you. Aang needs you. You have to hang on for them. It’ll get easier.” Zuko looked away, and Sokka found himself wondering how exactly the very same person who had made his life into a frantic dash for freedom was now sitting right in front of him, trying to offer comfort. “It’ll never go away, you’ll always remember, and sometimes you’ll feel like you’ll never be the same again, but it will get better. It’s going to be okay.”

And suddenly Sokka was angry. How dare Zuko tell him that it was going to be okay! Sure, maybe Sokka had killed one monster, had become one himself, but now Zuko, a monster in his own right, was telling him it was all going to be okay.

He had thought he would find comfort in the fact that he knew how horrible of a person Zuko was. He had thought that it would make him feel better about himself.

But the truth was, this wasn’t about Zuko at all. It was about Sokka, who had killed a man. And however hard he tried to find solace in the fact that Zuko was worse, that Zuko was a killer even more twisted than himself, he still had to live with the knowledge of what he had done.

He wasn’t angry at Zuko at all. He was angry at himself. But even though he knew that, deep down, it was so much easier to be angry at Zuko.

After all, he reasoned, Zuko was a good person to be angry at. He was a monster too. And monsters deserve to be hated.

“Go away, Zuko,” He said coldly, glaring at the other teenager. “No one wants you here.”

What are you saying? A small part of him screamed. You need him to teach Aang firebending! And besides, weren't you all about second chances?

He ignored the voice, unsteadily getting to his feet. “You’re a murderer and a villain.”

Like you?

“I know.”

Sokka didn’t think it was possible to sound so sad, resigned, and hopeless all at the same time.

“Just…. Please.” Zuko met his gaze, and his amber eyes held so much pain and anguish that Sokka nearly forgot his anger. “Help Aang finish it. Please.”

“Why do you care?” He snarled.

Why do you? The voice in his head countered.

“I need the Fire Nation defeated just as much as you do.”

“Yeah, like I believe that. How can I trust you, after everything you’ve done?”

Things like what you have done?

“Sokka, please.”

“I won't abandon my family.”

Then why are you here instead of there? Would you really go back on your own?

“Promise me, please.”

“Fine. I promise.” Sokka rolled his eyes. Did they really need to go through this charade? Where Zuko pretended to be good?

Then aren’t you also the lead role in your own charade?

Zuko stared at him for another moment, and Sokka’s anger only grew. Then, Zuko nodded and gave him a pained half-smile. “Thank you,” He said, and turned to go.

Aren’t you going to say something? The voice – his conscious, he figured – whispered disapprovingly.

No, Sokka thought. He deserves to be alone.

His conscience laughed.

…Like you?

Chapter Text

Everyone noticed that Zuko was gone.

Even Katara, who was determined to hate him, noticed his absence. When Sokka appeared in camp that night, dirty and dusty but unharmed, with no explanation, they began to wonder if Zuko would ever come back.

Toph was worried, of course. She cursed herself for not slamming Katara repeatedly into a column of rock – gently, of course – until she healed Zuko’s injuries. She had planned on forcing the water-bender to heal him after she finished stabilizing the temple, but the job had taken far longer than she had anticipated, and by the time she finished, Zuko was long gone.

They were sitting around the campfire, eating a late supper, when Katara finally forced Sokka to talk.

“What happened, Sokka?” She asked, shooting him another one of the concerned glances she had been giving him ever since he returned. He was different than normal, everyone noticed that too. He was quieter, more subdued, and there was a grimness in his movements that hadn’t been there before. Toph was willing to bet that Combustion Man’s death affected him more than he was willing to say.

“What do you mean?” He asked, looking up from his bowl.

“What happened after you left?”

Everything was silent for a moment, while Sokka gathered his thoughts. “I just needed some space, I guess. I went for a little walk.”

That was an understatement, and everyone knew it. Sokka had all but fled from the scene of the crime. “Zuko found me a little later. It was already dark.”

“Zuko?” Katara’s face was already darkening, a murderous gleam in her eye.

“He just wanted to talk.” He looked down, avoiding eye contact, and Toph had a bad feeling about whatever he was going to say next. “He wanted to tell me that I couldn't run away, that I had to go back to you.”

Toph’s heart sank. She knew what was coming next.

“I- I wasn’t very nice to him. No, actually, I was really cruel. And now, I don’t think he’s coming back.”

And there it was. Toph nearly groaned.

“Well. Why don’t we rename you two the ‘terrible at giving people second chances twins’! It’d be accurate!” She crossed her arms, leaning back against her rolled up bedroll. “Great going, guys. You chased away the only firebender we had to teach Aang. Oh, yeah, and that’s right, he's injured.”

“Toph-” Katara began, but Toph would have none of it.

“So, little miss water princess, what’s your plan for teaching Aang? Are you suddenly going to become a firebender? I don’t think so.”

Katara opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it and closed it again.

Good. Thought Toph. She’d better start to see exactly what she’s done.

“And what’s more!” She said, turning to Sokka. “Zuko came after you! To comfort you and to give you encouragement! And what did you do?”

Sokka had the decency to look down, avoiding Toph’s piercing glare. She may have been blind, but boy did she know how to stare into your soul.

“That’s right,” She continued. “You got mad at him, didn’t you? He was just trying to help!”

“Toph, you’re not being fair,” Aang said, trying to placate the angry Earthbender.

“Fair?”

Aang flinched at Toph’s tone. It wasn’t loud, but it was focused and angry, and made him feel worse than if she had yelled at him at the top of her lungs.

“You know what isn’t fair? What’s not fair is all of you refusing to give Zuko a second chance, even when he’s sincere and trying to make things right! Sure, he’s done terrible things in the past, but so have all of us! You remember blood-bending, Katara, don’t you?”

Katara looked down, the tiniest bit of shame creeping into her eyes.

“And you, Sokka, well… You know. Look, what I’m trying to say is that Zuko is trying to change, and you won’t let him!” She huffed out a breath of annoyance. “You’re so busy clinging onto what he used to be that you’re missing who he’s trying to be!”

Aang, ever the peacemaker, tried one more time. “Toph-”

Toph glared at him. “He’s my friend, Aang. He’s my friend, and he’s out in the cold, injured, with no food or water and nowhere to go.”

True, it may have been a bit hasty to call them friends that soon, but Toph had never had any friends, and she was willing to bet Zuko hadn’t either, so she was fairly lax with the term.

“I’m going after him.” She declared, standing. Pushing past Katara to collect clean bandages, water, and some food, she stalked to the edge of the firelight. “You drove him away, so I’m going to find my friend and make it right.”

***

Zuko didn’t know how he managed it. He was freezing and burning up all at the same time. It would have been quite impressive if it hadn’t been so disorienting.

He wasn’t sure how far he had made it after leaving Sokka. It wasn’t terribly far, he knew that much.

He tried to remember his field training. The most important thing was shelter. Then water, food, and fire. Well, at least he knew he could take care of the fire part. That was something, at least.

He was finding it hard to keep his wits about him. His mind kept wandering to insignificant memories or random thoughts, like the image of Katara’s necklace laying abandoned on the ground…

Focus! He reprimanded himself. Scanning the forest around him, Zuko spotted a small cave. That would do. He knew that he had to assess his injuries, especially after the fall into the cave in, but he didn’t have time. The forest was dangerous, and he needed shelter and warmth before he could think about treating his injuries.

Stumbling to the cave, Zuko nearly forgot to light a small, flickering flame on his palm to make sure there were no wild animals already taking shelter. Evidently something was going his way for once, for there was nothing in the small inlet that would maul him in his sleep.

Zuko dragged himself into the cave. He could take a little break before he scavenged sticks for a fire. There would be plenty of time later. For now, he finally had a chance to rest.

***

Sokka had messed up, and he knew it. Toph was right. He never should have said those things to Zuko. He probably wouldn't have, if he hadn’t been so stressed about… What had happened.

He knew that it was his fault. Zuko hadn’t done anything to antagonize him. Quite the opposite, actually. Sokka would probably still be in the woods, panicking and struggling to breathe, if it wasn’t for him.

It was time to face the facts. He had been terrible to Zuko, and now it was his fault the prince was alone in the forest, with no food or water or shelter.

He groaned and dropped his head in his hands. This whole week had been terrible. First the failed invasion, then Zuko, then Combustion Man, then, well, Zuko again.

“Hey, Sokka.”

He wasn't really in the mood for a heart-to-heart with his sister, but she plopped down beside him anyway.

“Hey, Katara.” He mumbled, not looking up.

“I just wanted to say…” She trailed off, and Sokka didn’t need to look at her to see her fidgeting. “I think you were right. Maybe. I don’t know.”

Usually he would have answered with something snarky, probably along the lines of ‘I know I’m right, it took you this long to figure it out?’ But this wasn’t usually, and he didn’t have the heart to joke around.

“Sokka, I still don’t like Zuko.”

Well, no surprise there.

“But, I think, maybe…” She sighed, and the silence stretched between them. “I think you were right. We do need him to teach Aang, and maybe, with enough time, he could
become a… A sort of good person.”

The guilt must really be eating at her. Sokka thought. He wondered what exactly she had said to him, if she was this willing to change her opinion on Zuko. Of course, he knew that she would act the same around him, if he ever came back. She was too stubborn not too. But maybe, eventually, she would come around.

“I wasn’t entirely honest.” Sokka finally said, heart speeding up at the thought of what he was about to say. “At dinner. He didn’t just talk to me.”

"What?” A hint of wariness had crept back into her voice, and Sokka realized that it would be harder than he thought for her to accept Zuko.

“He, well, I…” He wasn’t entirely sure how to say it. “I kinda panicked. And I couldn’t breathe. And Zuko helped me snap out of it.”

Katara was quiet, thinking. Sokka didn’t dare look at her.

As the silence stretched longer, Sokka’s heart fell. He shouldn’t have told her.

He was a warrior. He was supposed to be stronger than this. He was just a weak, pathetic little water tribe boy, trying too hard to be someone he wasn’t.

“I have to go.” He said, pushing himself to his feet and avoiding Katara’s gaze.

“Sokka, wait-” Katara began, but he was already walking away.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He berated himself. Go ahead and advertise to the whole world that you aren’t a warrior. That you have absolutely no clue what you’re doing.

It was true. He wasn’t a true warrior or a leader. He wasn’t good enough to be one. And besides that, he wasn’t honorable enough. He was a murderer. A cold blooded killer. How could anyone like him ever be called a hero? He was just a monster hiding behind a facade of goodness.

So wasn’t he just as bad as the fire lord?

***

Aang ran. Again. He took his glider and jumped off the edge of the terrace. There was too much to think about, and he still couldn’t get the image of Combustion Man out of his head. He knew it wasn’t Sokka’s fault, that he had been acting in self-defense, but he couldn’t shake the teaching of the monks.

‘Every life is precious.’ They used to say. Every life. But if Sokka hadn’t acted the way he did, would they be the ones lying still under a pile of scorched rubble? Could he justify the death to save his friends?

He banked hard to the left. Usually flying on the air currents brought him joy and freedom, made him feel like he could go anywhere, do anything.

But now, all he felt was shackled. He was the last airbender. He was the Avatar. He had responsibilities that he couldn’t just run from, not that he hadn’t tried.

He couldn’t kill the fire lord. Seeing Combustion Man’s charred body had cemented that fact. But how could he let the fire lord continue his reign of terror? Could he really let that much evil live on?

Aang dipped, swooping low toward the treetops.

He was not a killer, but Sokka wasn’t either. And now… Well, now Aang had to decide if he could become something he wasn’t so that the world would be safe.

Could he become what the world needed him to be?

***

Azula was the very picture of royalty. She strutted down the hall of the palace, headed toward her bedroom. She was in her element now. Finally her pesky brother was gone, and her claim to the throne was unchallenged. It was refreshing to know that she had beaten him once and for all. It was always going to happen, she just hadn’t known when.

Slipping inside her room, Azula shed her armor and pulled on her sleep clothes. It had been a good day. She had settled a dispute between two citizens on her trip to the city by threatening them both and had overseen the training of the soldiers. It was always a good day when she could cow proud men into utter fear.

A slight grin crossed her face when she recalled the look of terror on the two citizen’s faces when she held up a fire knife to their children’s throats. What fun!

“Azula.”

She whirled, already bending a dagger of fire into existence. She knew that voice. How could she forget? On the other side of the mirror stood her mother, hands folded peacefully in front of her.

“Azula.” Ursa tilted her head, a small, sad smile playing across her face. “Hello, my daughter.”

“Get out.” Azula snarled, raising her fire dagger. “Get out or I'll make you get out.”

Ursa sighed, her smile disappearing. “Azula, is this really what you want?”

Azula frowned, torn between smashing the mirror here and now and waiting to see what her mother had to say. Curiosity won out, and she stepped closer to the mirror, bending the fire dagger away. “Is what what I want?”

“This.” Ursa gestured widely, encompassing the whole of the room and the palace beyond. “I know that you live in fear, Azula.”

“Fear?” Azula said, familiar rage beginning to bubble in her stomach. “I am not afraid, mother.” She spit as much venom into the last word as she possibly could, and Ursa took a step back, retreating further into the mirror. When she spoke, her voice was kind, gentle.

“You fear rejection. You fear being alone.”

Suddenly Azula couldn’t quite meet Ursa’s compassionate gaze. “You are very much mistaken, then. I do not fear being alone.”

“Then why do you threaten Mai and Ty Lee? You know that they would be your friends if you only let down your walls and asked them.”

“Hah!” Azula’s hands clenched at her sides, and she had to hold herself back from launching herself at the mirror. “I have no need of friendship! All I need is control!”

Ursa didn’t say anything, simply giving Azula an infuriating smile.

“Go!” Azula all but yelled. “Leave me!”

Ursa bowed her head. “Very well. I love you, Azula.”

Azula punched the glass. The image of Ursa split into millions of pieces and scattered on the floor. Azula panted for breath, standing above the wreckage of the mirror. Her mother was gone.

Chapter Text

Toph had wondered, many, many times, what it would be like to have a brother or sister. She figured it would be nice to always have someone to talk to and complain with. She also figured her brother or sister would annoy the living daylights out of her.

Well, right now, she was definitely feeling the annoyance.

She stopped walking for a second, taking a moment to sense. There were a few animals moving about close to her, but nothing bigger than a squirrel.

She was just about to move on when she felt the faintest of vibrations, coming from a small cave to her left. Walking a little closer, she felt again. There!

Running now, she skidded to a stop in front of the cave and ducked inside. Zuko was lying passed out on the floor.

“Zuko!” She said, sitting down beside him and shaking his shoulder. “Zuko, wake up!”

There was no response.

“You are an idiot,” Toph said as she pulled the roll of bandages out of her bag. “You are a world-class idiot.”

“Yeah.”

The response was breathy and barely audible, but there, and it filled Toph with hope.

“Oh, so now you wake up. Now that your precious honor has been challenged.”

Zuko wheezed a laugh. “I was agreeing with you.”

“Yeah, well, there’s nothing to agree with, it’s a fact.” Toph set about winding the bandage around the wound in his side. It had begun to bleed again, soaking the old bandage and his tunic around it. Toph was almost glad she couldn’t see, the infection felt terrible, and she had nearly yanked her hand away when she accidently brushed the warm flesh around the jagged wound.

“Why did-” Zuko broke off, words consumed by a coughing fit that sounded far too wet for Toph’s comfort. After the coughing subsided, he sucked in a deep, rattling breath and tried again. “Why did you come after me?”

Toph shrugged. “Maybe ‘cause I didn’t want you to die?” She fished around in her bag for the water, uncorking the top and offering it to Zuko.

“You shouldn’t have,” He said, taking a deep drink from the water flask.

“And why not?”

Zuko handed the water flask back to Toph, moving far slower than she would have liked. “It’s not worth it.”

Toph easily read the true meaning behind the words. ‘I’m not worth it.’

“Well, Zuko, seems to me that’s not true.” She tried to play the words off as causal, but it was harder than she thought. It was like Zuko was holding up a mirror to her own thoughts, at least ones she used to have. She used to think all the time that she wasn’t worth it, that it was fine that no one was there for her because she deserved it somehow.

“Toph, please, just go back to the group. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, ‘cause this is fine.” She gestured to the cave and his position lying on the floor. “Come on, let’s get you back to the others. Katara can heal you, and besides, I bet you’re hungry.”

“I am a little hungry.” He admitted. “But I don’t know if I could eat. It hurts, Toph.” He whispered the last words, as if it were some secret shame that he wasn’t supposed to reveal to anyone.

“I know.” Toph sat back, debating. “Do you think you could walk?”

Zuko shook his head, wincing at the movement. “I don’t know. I think my leg is broken.”

Toph reached out with her earthbending, paying special attention to the vibrations surrounding Zuko’s leg. He was right, the bone was split in two. Toph winced in sympathy. He shouldn’t have been walking on that leg. He really shouldn’t have been walking at all.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” Toph said with a crisp clap. “I’m going to set your leg, and we’re going to stay here overnight. We’ll find our way back tomorrow.”

“But-”

“Nope, don’t you dare. I’m staying here.” She folded her arms, glaring at him in what she hoped was a no-nonsense way.

Zuko sighed and seemed to deflate, all the fight and protests dying out. “Okay. Thank you, Toph.”

Toph allowed herself a small but genuine smile. It felt nice to have friends. “Yeah, of course.”

***

The mood around camp was somber. No one had slept very well, barely dozing in case Toph came back, with an injured Zuko in tow. The next morning brought no sign of the earthbender, though, and Team Avatar reluctantly went about their morning chores.

It felt wrong, to fall back to their familiar routine, when Toph was still out there, searching for Zuko. They had planned to move locations, but with Toph and Zuko gone, they would postpone until they came back.

Aang practiced his earthbending, but he lacked his usual excitement to learn. Eventually, the team gathered by the campfire for lunch and sat there, silent, each lost in their own thoughts.

Katara was the first one to hear them. She jumped up and rushed towards the sound, too frantic to even consider the possibility that it was an enemy. Toph and Zuko broke out of the trees, Zuko leaning heavily on the younger girl.

“Are you okay?” Katara asked, wringing her hands together unconsciously.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Zuko wheezed. It would have been more convincing if he could stand on his own.

“Right, so here’s what’s going to happen,” Toph said, half carrying, half dragging Zuko toward the campfire. “Katara, you are going to heal Zuko. Aang, you’re going to scout out another temple thingy to move to. Sokka, everyone else, I dunno, make yourselves useful.”

Katara began to fret over Zuko the moment Toph dropped him – as gently as she could, she wasn’t heartless – onto his crumpled bedroll. Toph sighed, rolling out the kink in her neck. It had been a long night. She had barely slept, because someone kept wheezing and hacking in his sleep, and Toph was fairly sure he had stopped breathing a few times. All in all, she was exhausted.

Katara, on the other hand, was a bundle of nervous energy. Toph’s words had been eating at her, adding to the already overflowing bucket of guilt she carried. She knew how absolutely terrible she had been to Zuko, but she didn’t know how to apologize. No, she still didn’t like him, but she had to admit to herself that Toph was right, she had been standing in his way to becoming good.

“Would you stop that?” Zuko said, words far more slurred than Katara would have liked. His good eye was half open, the scarred one shut, and his amber eye focused hazily on her. Katara had never noticed how pretty his eyes were. They were like captured sunlight, those eyes, like a warm hug on a cold day, like–

Wait. Why was she thinking like that?

“Stop what?” She said, hastily breaking eye contact and fiddling with her mother’s necklace.

Zuko waved one arm vaguely in her direction before dropping it back to his side with a thunk. “That. All the twitching. You’re making me nervous.”

Katara frowned, forcing her hands back to her lap. Zuko was acting strange, words hopping around in directions Katara didn’t even want to bother following. Maybe it was the fever. She thought, raising one hand to feel his forehead.

She yanked her hand away. The fever had risen, Zuko’s forehead almost burning to the touch. Katara’s breath hitched. This wasn’t good. This really wasn’t good. She soaked a cloth with water and laid it on Zuko’s forehead, frowning as Zuko flinched away from the touch.

“Zuko, can you tell me where it hurts?” She asked carefully. She still couldn’t heal the wound in his side, not completely, until the infection had run its course. Well, it didn’t look like that would be anytime soon.

Zuko groaned. “Everywhere.”

Right. That wasn’t helpful. “Get some rest, Zuko, you need it.”

“I’m fine,” He said, apparently determined to be as unhelpful as possible. “I need to start teaching Aang.”

“No, right now you need to heal.”

Even half-conscious, Zuko managed a small smirk. “I didn’t know you cared so much.”

“I don’t,” Katara said, carefully pulling the bandage away from Zuko’s side to examine the wound. It was red and inflamed, and light green pus rimmed the edges. She frowned, washing a wave of water to wash away the pus.

Zuko groaned and flinched, and Katara found herself wishing they had thought of buying pain medicine.

“Look, Katara,” Zuko said between great gasps for air. “I’m really sorry. I know you don’t believe me, but I’ll keep telling you until you do. I’m so-” He cut off, words dissolving into a coughing fit. He was so pale. When did he get to be so pale?

“Don’t talk.” Katara demanded, changing the rag on his forehead and washing the old one out in a bucket of cold water.

“But I need to tell you–”

“Nope. If you talk again, I’m leaving.” She knew it was cruel, but she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t handle the idea that she had not only been wrong about Zuko, she could actually begin to like him. As a friend, of course.

He was Zuko, the boy who had chased them across the globe, trying to capture Aang. He was the enemy, the one who made Katara’s blood boil with hatred.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe he was more. Maybe he wasn’t as black and white of a person as she thought. Maybe she didn’t know the whole story.

She shook her head, clearing the troublesome thoughts away. Right now she had more important things to attend to. Mainly, making sure said villain didn’t die.

***

Sokka was not avoiding Zuko. No siree. He was just going out to gather firewood cause they were starting to get low, that’s all. He wandered out into the woods, gathering firewood and desperately trying to think of anything but Zuko. Unfortunately, that meant thinking about himself, which was arguably worse.

Sokka had always prided himself for being a warrior. He was a strong, independent Water Tribe Warrior, who didn’t need anyone else. Now, though, he stuck around other people so he wouldn’t have to think about Combustion Man, or Zuko, or any of the terrible things he had done. How could he be a righteous Warrior if he was a murderer? Self defense or not, Sokka had let his tribe down.

He had let his sister down, he had let Aang down. He probably wouldn’t even be here if Zuko hadn’t stepped in. He would have been fleeing for the farthest town, ready to drown his memories in a new life.

However much Sokka flounced his bravery, he knew, deep down, that he wasn’t. He wasn’t brave enough to save the world. Why was he even here?

But he couldn’t leave Katara. He couldn’t do that to her. So, he would continue on.

Maybe he hated himself, but for Katara, he would pretend to be okay.

Chapter Text

Zuko never had been good at resting, or even recovering from sickness or injuries. There was simply too much to do, too much to take care of. He was always busy. As the crown prince – not anymore, he thought – he had many duties to attend to, and if he spent too much time in bed, all the tasks would pile up and he’d simply have to attend to them later.

So, even with a burning hole in his side, Zuko forced himself up at the crack of dawn to meditate and prepare for teaching. He climbed painstakingly to a pavilion near the top othe temple and settled himself down near the edge, folding his legs under him.

He took deep breaths and tried to clear his mind. It was harder than usual.

Focus. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. Focus.

It was hard not to think.

Memories crowded him, loudly vying for his attention.

Katara’s face in the cave as she gently touched his scar.

Uncle’s kind smile as he poured them both a cup of Zuko’s favorite tea.

Sokka’s shuddering form as he hunched in on himself, trying to shut out the world.

Toph’s stubborn glare as she refused to leave him.

His mother’s laugh as Zuko played with the Turtleducks.

Azula’s cruel smirk as she beat him in sparring yet again.

It was too hard not to think. He had failed one destiny, only to find another. And now he was failing at that one too. It seemed that was all he could do. He had failed to be the perfect prince, the perfect son, then he had failed at capturing the Avatar, then he had failed in fitting in at the Palace, and now, finally, he was failing to help Aang master firebending.

What a sorry excuse for a prince. Wonderful, now his inner thoughts sounded like Azula. Just what he needed. The Azula-thought was right, though, he was a sorry excuse for a prince.

It took a while, but Zuko finally cleared his mind. It was nice to think about nothing. After about five minutes, he decided he was ready to face the rest of the group.

Pushing himself to his feet, Zuko headed back down to the campfire. No one else was awake yet, so he started a fire and put on some water to boil.

It was strange, he thought, how he was sitting around a campfire with the Avatar and his friends, when he had been hell-bent on capturing them only a year before. Still, he was grateful for the chance to redeem himself, even just a little, and start fixing everything he had broken.

Zuko began ripping up dried tea leaves mindlessly, thoughts wandering to his father. His father, who he had sought to please for so long. His father, who ordered an entire squadron to the front lines just to die. His father, who had burned his face, twisting and changing the skin into a hideous abomination, so that Zuko would always have a reminder of his shortcomings.

Zuko knew that his dad was not a good father. Agni, he wasn’t a good person! But even though he saw all the evil his father had committed and all the lives he’d ripped apart, Ozai was, unfortunately, still his father. How could Zuko push Aang into killing his very own father? Maybe that made him just as heartless as Ozai.

Aang didn’t understand. Aang hadn’t had to live with him, have to see everything he had done. Aang always looked for the best in people, even when the person in question was a nation-conquering homicidal overlord with a lust for power.

But there was one more thing Zuko didn’t want to admit to himself. Somehow, despite everything, he didn’t want his father to die. Yes, he would be glad to see Ozai locked up for the rest of his life, but even though Zuko never wanted to see him again, he still didn’t want Ozai to die.

Zuko sighed. He knew how the story ended. It either ended with Aang victorious and Ozai cold and dead, or it ended with Ozai victorious, and Aang burned and blackened. The war was a giant game of Pai Sho, with armies and strategists and rouges, but even with all the complexity, there were only two ways for the game to end. And Zuko didn’t like either option.

Katara mumbled something in her sleep, rolling over in her blankets, and Zuko felt a flush creep up his neck. He had been here, hovering over them while they were sleeping. How weird was that? He nearly moaned. He really was bad at this whole friends thing. If they could even be called that, anyway.

Zuko stood up and tiptoed carefully around Sokka’s sleeping figure, careful not to wake him. It was still quite early, and Zuko didn’t want to wake them any earlier than he had to. Well, maybe he should wake Aang for a firebending lesson… Zuko huffed a sigh as he switched directions, headed toward Aang. Why was this so hard?

“Aang!” Zuko shook the young airbender’s shoulder gently, keeping his voice low. “Hey, Aang, time to wake up.”

“Mmm…” Aang groaned and rolled over, flopping one hand over his face.

Zuko resisted the urge to sigh. He sighed far too often anyway, he was beginning to sound like Mai.

“Aang, get up, now!” He shoved the younger boy hard enough to roll him over, and Aang finally lifted his head, blinking blearily at Zuko.

“What?” He yawned, trying to roll away from wakefulness, but Zuko grabbed his shoulder.

“It’s time for you to learn firebending, come on.”

Aang sprang to his feet, suddenly awake and energetic. “Wow, really? Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Zuko followed Aang to the empty pavilion away from the main camp. He could ignore the pain, though he wasn’t sure how much bending he could handle with a broken leg.

“So, where do we start?” Aang grinned at him, far more an excitable puppy than a focused Avatar. Zuko nearly sighed again. What had he gotten himself into?

“Here.” Zuko pointed to the candles he had set up for his own meditation. He had extinguished the flame, but now he lit them again with a sharp gesture with his hand. “Sit down.”

Aang did as he asked, staring up at him with a confused expression. “You’re not going to have me light them?”

Zuko shook his head. “No. I want you to meditate here. Clear your mind and focus on your breathing.”

“But-”

“No excuses, this is your exercise.”

“Fine.” Aang stuck out his bottom lip, and Zuko held in a groan. He was dealing with a literal five year old. “How long do I have to meditate?”

“Until the flames ebb and flow with your breathing. No shortcuts.”

“Fiiiiine.” Aang whined, but closed his eyes anyway. Zuko watched him for a minute, making sure he was doing as instructed, then began to practice bending of his own. If Aang could concentrate on clearing his mind even while Zuko made noise in the background, Zuko would know that he was ready to begin firebending.

It probably wasn’t a good idea to do any kind of strenuous activity while still injured, but Zuko couldn’t afford time to rest. He would need to be on the top of his game if he wanted to even have a chance of defeating Azula or the Fire Lord.

He gritted his teeth as he stumbled through another of the basic forms. Even worse than the pain that shot through his leg and side was the feeling of something missing. He couldn’t explain it, just that something about his connection to the fire was off, and he didn’t know why. His flames were weaker than normal, too. He had never been the strongest firebender, but he was good enough, and now…

Well, now he wouldn’t even stand a chance against a first year firebending student.

Zuko snarled in frustration as his weak flames flickered and died. Something was wrong with him, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

“Are you okay?”

Zuko whirled around, wincing as he put weight on his injured leg. Katara was standing in the doorway, watching him with furrowed eyebrows. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Zuko laughed nervously as he wiped the sweat from his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Just checking where you two went.” She stepped further into the pavilion, and Zuko glanced back over his shoulder to check on Aang’s progress. The flames from the candles were rising and lowering, smaller than when Zuko meditated, but still quite noticeable.

“He's doing well.”

“I'm sure. Are you sure that you should be up and bending?”

Zuko shrugged. “I know I shouldn't, but I need to.”

“Why?” Katara was acting strange, and Zuko didn't know how to feel about it.

“Why do you care?” He said, voice more angry than he had planned on.

Katara looked away, a slight flush creeping up her cheeks. “Look, Zuko, I just think you should take it easy. You'll be more help to Aang if you heal fully.”

Zuko couldn't help the traitorous tug in his chest. Of course Katara only cared about him helping Aang. What else did he expect?

“I'm fine.” He growled, turning away from Katara and taking a deep breath. He couldn't bend in front of her. Not while he was injured and the fire wasn't responding.

“Zuko, I-”

“Why are you still here?” Zuko said, not caring if he hurt her feelings. “I'm trying to teach Aang.”

“Sure, because breathing is such a big part of fire bending.” She sounded angry, but Zuko didn't turn around to find out.

“It is, actually. Not that I expect you to know that.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Zuko knew that he was just making it worse, but he couldn't bring himself to care. “Maybe you should stop acting like you know everything, Katara, you don't know the first thing about fire bending, and you don't know me.”

“Yeah, well maybe I don't want to!”

“Good!”

“Fine!”

Zuko heard her footsteps fade away, and slowly let out a breath, trying to clear his head. It didn’t matter if he had strained relationships with the team, all he needed to was teach Aang firebending and help him defeat his father. He didn’t need to get attached. He didn’t want to get attached. So why did he feel so guilty about shouting at Katara?

“Hey, uh, Zuko?”

Zuko looked up, pushing the thoughts away. Aang was looking up at him with a worried expression.

“What.”

“I kinda heard you and Katara talking, and I just wanted to say that-”

“Is it related to firebending?” Zuko interrupted, glaring at the boy.

Aang shook his head. “Well, no, but-”

“Then I don’t want to hear it. Get up, we’ll run through form one.”

Aang sighed. “Yes, Zuko.”

***

Katara had mastered the art of fuming long ago. After all, with Sokka as a brother, she got mad pretty often, and now had it down to an art. Her face was set in a determined scowl, and her hands were clenched in fists of rage. Her eyes were narrowed and she glared at anyone who came into a twenty foot radius.

Sokka could usually break her out of her funk, but on this particular occasion, even he wouldn’t dare touch her with a fifty foot pole.

She stormed through the halls of western air temple with no particular destination in mind, only that she needed to get away from Zuko, who happened to be the most infuriating person in all of existence.

Why couldn’t he see that she was just trying to help? He really had the nerve to yell at her when all she had wanted was to check on him and make sure he didn’t keel over while doing some fancy firebending move. Well, she had learned her lesson. She didn’t care about him anyway.

All she had to do was tolerate him for another few months until Aang mastered firebending and they defeated the fire lord. That was all. She could handle a few months.

She turned down a corridor, resisting the urge to punch a wall. So what if he was gravely injured? So what if his father was the one they were trying to defeat. So what? He was still a terrible person, and none of those things excused him from his awfulness.

But what was his life like? She thought against her will. He must have had it pretty good, growing up as a prince. Or maybe not. Ozai doesn’t seem like that great of a father. I mean, who exiles their son and makes them chase a dream to restore their honor?

She shook her head. What was she doing? It didn’t matter if Zuko had the worst childhood in the history of childhoods, he still chose to be as nasty as he was. A tragic sob story didn’t change that. Right?

She sighed. This was all too confusing. She had liked it better when the battle lines were black and white.

No, she wasn’t ready to forgive Zuko. But maybe, given enough time, she would be.

Chapter Text

“Where does firebending come from?” Zuko plopped his school books down on the desk and slid into a chair opposite his uncle. “I mean, Teacher kind of explained it, but not really. I looked in the textbook too, but it was really confusing.”

Iroh looked up from the letter he was writing. Zuko didn’t get to see him very often, and he always enjoyed his uncle’s willingness to answer even the most ridiculous questions.

“Zuko, you’re only nine. Why in Agni would your teacher be explaining it now? You’re far too young to understand.”

"I am not!” Zuko crossed his arms and tilted his chin up, the very picture of defiance. “I’m smart enough!”

Iroh sighed, rolling his eyes. “I never said you weren’t. Bending is an advanced subject, and one that is difficult to fully understand.”

“Please explain it?” Zuko tried, giving Uncle his best Rabbit-puppy eyes. “Pleeeeeease?”

“Fine.” He huffed in annoyance, but the effect was ruined by his fond smile. “Bending, in essence, is just energy. An Airbender, for instance, takes the energy within the air and uses their own inner energy to move and change the direction of the wind.”

Zuko frowned, thinking hard. “...So an Earthbender uses their energy to interact with the energy of the rock?”

“Basically, yes.” Iroh nodded, a proud smile slipping across his face. He didn’t get to see his nephew very often, but each time he was reminded of his own son. Zuko would grow up to be greater than them all one day, and Iroh hoped that he would get to see it.

“But what about firebending?” Zuko asked, drawing Iroh’s attention back to the conversation at hand. “I mean, we don’t bend the fire that is already there, we make fire. Why is it different?”

“An excellent question, Prince Zuko. Firebending works a little differently. Instead of using the energy inside to influence the energy outside, you push your inner energy outward, directing it in the form of fire.”

“That’s why Azula can make lightning? Because she has stronger energy?” Zuko’s eyes widened, and he bounced up and down in his seat. Iroh grinned. Young children were so excitable.

“Almost, but not quite. Azula can bend fire because she has a different type of energy. It’s still Firebending energy, but it’s… it’s more like a subset, it that makes sense.”

Zuko suddenly turned serious, grin turning to a frown of concentration. “What else could you make? If you had the right type of energy, I mean. Could you learn to bend anything?”

Iroh thought for a moment, then reached for a new sheet of paper. “Look,” He said, drawing the four element’s symbols. “Water, Earth, Air, and Fire.”

Zuko nodded along. “Yeah, the four elements. What about them?”

“Each element has a different type of energy that is associated with that type of bending. Waterbenders have a different energy, or Chi, than Earthbenders, and so on. Now, as you pointed out earlier, a select few Firebenders can bend lightning as well. Most are born with this innate ability, though some argue that there is a way to learn. Waterbenders have two types of energy as well, there is another kind of Chi that lets a Waterbender use their bending to heal.”

Iroh drew a large circle that encapsulated all four of the elements. “Now, some experts say that there is another element, energy itself.”

Zuko stared at him blankly. “I don’t get it.”

“They say that Energybending is the purest form of bending, and that very few can access the raw form of energy needed to bend it.”

“What could you do with Energybending?”

Iroh frowned, leaning back in his seat. They had entered the realm of theoretical bending, and, to be truthful, he didn’t know much about the subject. “Well, the theory goes that you could transfer and interact with someone’s innate Chi with Energybending, though I don’t know how that would work.”

“That sounds really cool.” Zuko said, and Iroh could see the gleam in his eyes as he imagined himself with all the power in the world.

“There’s one more theory.” Iroh said, shading the outside of the large circle. “See this, outside the circle?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, there is this idea that there is the opposite of Energybending, called Darkbending.”

Zuko wrinkled his nose in disgust. “First, that’s a terrible name. Second, that makes no sense.”

“Think of it this way. Water and Fire are opposites, right?”

“Yeah, and Earth and Air.”

“Well, it stands to reason that…” Iroh trailed off, letting Zuko have the chance to figure it out for himself.

“Oh!” Zuko’s face lit up in a grin. “That Energybending would need an opposite too! To balance it out!”

“Right. Though I do agree, Darkbending is an absolutely terrible name.”

“What does it do?”

“Well…” Iroh tried to think of a tactful way to phrase it, but couldn't find anything. “If Energybending is life, and Darkbending is its opposite, then Darkbending is…”

“Death,” Zuko said solemnly.

Iroh nodded. “Yes. Keep in mind, though, this is all theoretical. None of this has been proven, and it may not exist at all.”

Zuko inclined his head in respect. “Thank you, Uncle.” He gathered his school books and stood, still lost in thought.

“Oh, and Zuko?” Iroh called as Zuko opened the door to go. Zuko looked back expectantly. Iroh rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Just… Don’t tell your mother I told you about this. I don’t want her thinking I’m a bad influence.”

Zuko grinned. “Don’t worry, it’s our little secret.”

Iroh smiled back. “Of course. Our little secret.”

***

“So what’s wrong with your bending?” Sokka sat down next to Zuko, ignoring the lingering doubts that Zuko didn’t want him there.

Zuko sighed, avoiding eye contact, which Sokka was perfectly fine with. Ever since Combustion Man, he had found himself far less willing to look people in the eye, as if they would somehow see the monster lurking just underneath his skin.

“It’s fine,” Zuko said, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Clearly it’s not. Katara told me about it. She said that your flames were weak, and that’s probably not just from your injuries.” He was probably being too blunt about the whole thing, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It felt like all his humor had drained away, leaving only a cold shell of cruel sarcasm.

Zuko was silent for a moment, and Sokka took the silence as a chance to gaze at the sunset. It almost wasn’t fair, he thought, that the world continued to be beautiful when there was so much ugliness contained within. He had seen firsthand the despair, the death, the cruelty that this world held, and the thin veil of beauty wouldn’t do much to ease his troubled mind.

“You’re right. There’s something wrong with my bending, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Sokka looked up. Zuko was staring into the distance, clearly lost in thought.

“Well, how do we figure out how to fix it?”

Zuko gave a little half-shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if it can be fixed.”

“I don’t know either. Katara and I never really got an education about Bending. All I really know is that you guys can do cool stuff and I can’t.”

“What do you mean, you can’t do cool stuff?” Zuko finally looked up, meeting Sokka’s eyes. “You do plenty of cool stuff. I couldn’t come up with half of the ideas you do.”

Sokka shrugged, trying to crush the small seed of warmth that blossomed in his chest. “Not really, none of my ideas work.”

“That’s not true.” Zuko argued, voice growing in intensity. “Sokka, you’re a really important member of this team. Without you, Aang would have been captured many times over.”

“I don’t know.” Sokka broke eye contact, staring at the floor instead. “I’m always a liability in battle.”

Zuko groaned, closing his eyes. “I’m really not the one to give pep talks, Sokka. I may be the only person more useless than you think you are.”

Sokka paused. What did Zuko just say?

For as long as he could remember, Sokka had always been the butt of the joke. Oh look, Sokka’s hungry again. Oh look, Sokka just fell off that Ostrich-horse. Oh look, Sokka’s always such a bumbling fool. He tried to act self-confident, but in reality, he was the one who others only kept around for comedic relief.

He had never really been confident in his ability and worth, and had just sort of assumed that if you were a bender, you automatically knew you were awesome.

But here was Zuko, an extremely skilled bender – well, usually, anyway – and not to mention his prowess with the Dao swords. He was even a prince, for goodness sake! And he thought he was useless?

“Zuko, you’re not–” He started to say, but Zuko cut him off.

“Don’t even bother, Sokka, it’s not worth it. I’m pathetic, and weak, and stupid, and cowardly, and–” He trailed off, as if just realizing what he was saying. “-And I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be. I feel the same way.”

They lapsed into silence, a kind of mutual understanding falling comfortably between them. They both knew what they thought of themselves, and they both knew what the other would say about it. And that was enough.

***

Toph found Katara sitting on the edge of the temple, feet dangling into the abyss. Toph shuddered to think of what it would feel like to dangle her own feet off into nothingness. She preferred solid ground, thank you very much. Still, she sat beside Katara, tucking her legs under her.

“Soooo… What’s up?” She asked, bending her space rock off her arm and fiddling with it.

“What’s up?” Katara snarled, and Toph pursed her lips. Maybe calming Katara down would be harder than she thought. “Why don’t you ask your friend?” She all but spit out the word, and Toph nearly groaned. She really should have seen this coming.

“Yeah, Katara, he’s my friend, but so are you.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” Katara didn’t sound convinced, she sounded angry. Of course.

“Katara…”

Katara crossed her arms. “Nope, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Toph threw her hands in the air for emphasis, nearly dropping her space bracelet. “Do you want me to hate Zuko like the rest of you? Is that it? Do you just want me to agree with everything you say like some kind of echo?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“I don’t know, that’s kinda how it seems to me. It’s like you’re trying to control everyone on the team!”

Katara was quiet, shocked into silence, but Toph wasn’t about to stop now. She was fine with Katara being a little controlling, but this had gone too far.

“Listen, Katara, I’m old enough to make my own decisions. We all are. Even Momo doesn’t need instructions on every little detail! You can’t control what everyone else thinks of Zuko just because you hate him. I get it, you’ve got history. I’m not even going to mention that. All I’m saying is that you need to let us draw our own conclusions.”

“I…”

Toph sighed, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Katara, we’re still friends. We’re never not going to be friends. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

“I’m not going to like Zuko just because you do.” Katara said, more defensive than angry.

Toph nodded. “I’m not expecting you to. All I want is for you to be civil to all my friends, Zuko included.”

Katara mulled the words over, and comfortable silence fell between them.

“Okay,” Katara said finally. “I’ll try.”

Toph grinned. Who said she wasn’t good at emotions?

***

“I think I have a theory.” Zuko said at dinner that night. “About why my Firebending isn’t working.”

“Okay, what is it?” Sokka scooped up rice into his bowl and grabbed a fruit. They were running low on rations, and everyone was getting sick of the plain meals.

“Well, most of my Firebending came from rage.” Zuko rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. It wasn’t something that he was proud to admit, especially since he was still trying to prove himself, that he wasn’t that person anymore. “And now that I’m not angry, well…”

“How do we fix it?” Aang asked, and Zuko shrugged.

“I guess I don’t know. I’ve tried focusing on bending from the breath, but it doesn’t seem to help.”

“Ooh!” Toph perked up from where she was sitting on a rock, amusing herself by bending little earth-mazes for bugs to frantically try to escape. “Have you tried the source?”

There was a moment of silence where everyone stared at her, uncomprehending.

“Oh come on.” Toph rolled her eyes at their blank stares. “The source? Where bending first came from?”

There was a collective chorus of Ooooohs from the team.

“Dragons are the source of Firebending, right?” Aang asked.

“Yeah.” Zuko sighed, shifting uneasily.

Toph and Katara had cornered him earlier that day and demanded to give him a medical checkup. Zuko was rather surprised that Katara had agreed to come anywhere near him, but apparently Toph was more persuasive than he had thought. He and Katara had barely spoken one word during the whole checkup, leading to a very uncomfortable and more than awkward situation.

His leg was on the way to healing – Toph had bent a stone cast for it, and while it was hard to walk, had helped the healing process tremendously – and his fever had been gone for two days.

His side, however, was an entirely different story. It had scabbed over, but the infection still lurked under the skin, ready to burst out. Sometimes he grew dizzy and blacked out for a few seconds, which Katara said was due to blood loss.

He was still in pain, but it was manageable, and as long as he didn’t do anything to aggravate his wounds, they would heal completely in two weeks.

But of course, he couldn’t just do nothing, so he played down the pain and continued on.

“There’s a problem, though,” He said, focusing back on the conversation. “The Dragons are extinct.”

“What? How?” Aang asked. “There were so many in my time, what happened to them?”

Zuko grimaced. “They were hunted for sport – no, for honor. It was the highest honor you could receive, to be the killer of a mighty dragon. My uncle was the one to kill the last dragons.”

Silence fell around the campfire, along with a heavy air of lost hope. Without Zuko being able to firebend, there was no way for Aang to learn to firebend, and then….

Well, no one wanted to think of what would happen then.

“That’s okay.” Aang said, trying to inject as much optimism into his voice as possible. “I don’t need to learn firebending. I have the other three. That’ll be enough!”

“No, Twinkle-toes.” Toph said, voice flat. “It’s not. Besides, you still have to kill the Firelord.”

“I…” Aang hunched into himself, trailing off miserably.

Zuko knew that he was still struggling with the idea of killing the Firelord, but he also knew that eventually, Aang would have to make up his mind. Fulfill the duties of the Avatar, or run away from his role yet again.

Then a sudden thought struck him, and he sat up a little straighter as a rebellious part of him filled with hope yet again. “Maybe it’s not all lost,” He said, “There is an ancient civilization, the sun warriors, that studied the art of Firebending directly from the Dragons. They died out a long time ago, but their city should still be there. Maybe we can still learn something.”

“Really?” Aang perked up immediately, and Zuko was struck once more just how young Aang was. He hadn’t grown up during the war, he hadn’t been scarred permanently from all the things Zuko had seen.

As the Crown Prince, Zuko had been taught in all the ways of the Firelord. Politics and Government, but also war. He had been forced to watch more Agni Kai’s than he could count, each fight ending with a severely injured Firebender, or, sometimes, even dead. He had attended mass executions of rebels. Sometimes, in his dreams, he heard the screams of the rebels as their skin burned and melted, their screams changing first from fear to pain, then agony, and finally, trailing off into a deafening silence, their families sobbing as they watched.

There were things he would never forget as long as he lived, and he knew that Aang, while not entirely naive to the ways of war, didn’t have any idea of the things people were capable of. The things that good people were capable of.

He shook his head, breaking himself out of the dreadful memories. “Hopefully we’ll learn enough to fix my bending. Otherwise, you’ll have to find another way to defeat the Firelord.”

Chapter Text

“I don’t know why, but I always thought this thing moved a lot faster.” Zuko grumbled as they flew through the air. “At this rate, the comet will arrive before we get to the ruins.”

“Come on, Sifu Hotman,” Aang said, far cheerier than Zuko. “It’s the start of a trip! Let’s have some excitement!”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “No thanks.”

“Now now,” Aang waggled his finger at Zuko’s face. “You may not appreciate the difference a good attitude makes, but I do, so turn that frown upside down!”

“Fine.” Zuko gave Aang his most fake smile, but apparently his fake smile was convincing, because Aang grinned and turned back to steering, nodding at himself for a job well done.

They had left at the crack of dawn, and a knot of tension had grown in Zuko’s stomach. What if he couldn’t fix his bending? He would just prove his uselessness. Prove Katara right. Prove his father right. No. This had to work. It had to.

The world whirled past beneath them as they flew. Aang tried to strike up conversation a few times, but Zuko rejected his attempts quickly each time. This was his last chance to prove himself. He would not fail again. He would not allow himself to fail again.

“Okay, here we are!” Aang said cheerfully as the tops of ruined buildings came into view.

Zuko swallowed past the lump in his throat. This was his last chance. He would not mess it up.

They disembarked and let Appa roam free around the mountainside.

If nothing else, Zuko got a chance to learn more about the architecture and history of the sun warriors. The buildings were hewn of stone, and Zuko could even see the similarities between the Sun Warrior’s building styles and the modern Fire Nation’s.

There were a few booby traps, leading to Aang nearly being impaled on spikes, but for the most part, the ruins were just that: ruins.

Well, until they came upon the large locked door. Large steps led up to an open platform, a stone pillar standing tall directly in front of the door. The stone was engraved with traditional Fire Nation symbols, and in the center, a dark red gem rested inside the stone, about the same height as the top of the pillar.

“Soooo, what do we do now?” Aang asked, studying the door.

Zuko, on the other hand, was more interested in the stone pillar. It was tall, and near the top, decorative symbols and colors swirled around a matching gem.

“Look,” He said, pointing to the ground, where two rings extended around the length of the platform. “It’s a solar calendar. I bet the door only opens when the light from there–” He pointed to the gem on the top of the pillar. “Hits the matching sunstone directly.”

Aang blinked. “Okaaay? So when does it open?”

Zuko frowned. “The solstice.”

“Oh.” Aang slouched visibly, sticking out his bottom lip. “Monkey-Feathers! We can’t wait that long!”

Zuko nodded his agreement. “No, but we can speed time up.”

Aang gave him an incredulous look, raising an eyebrow as Zuko drew one of his dao swords and slid it under where the light from the sunstone shone on the ground. He frowned
in concentration, tilting the sword so the light reflected up and toward the door.

“Come on…” He muttered as the light centered on the sunstone. The ruby-colored gem seemed to absorb the light, dark red hues shifting and spinning with the light. For a moment, Zuko didn’t think it was going to work. The door stood there, stubborn and unyielding, and Zuko nearly sheathed his sword.

Then, with the crunch of shifting rock, the door began to slide open. Aang gave him a beaming grin as they stood in the doorway, staring into the semi-darkness inside.
“You know,” he said, giving Zuko a playful elbow in the side. “I don’t care what everyone else says about you. You’re pretty smart.”

Zuko tried unsuccessfully to keep the smile off his face, even as his side protested the jarring movement. He had been so focused on his mission, he had forgotten all about his injury, and although it still throbbed dully with movement, it was a far cry from what it had been.

The inside of the temple was peculiar. A set of statues curved across the floor, directly opposite each other. It looked almost like they were firebending forms, arranged in a particular sequence.

Zuko wandered to the statues, examining the first one.

Then, an excitable ball of energy was zooming up to him and tugging on his arm. “Zuko! It’s a dance! Come on, dance with me! Pleeeeease?”

“Uhh.” Zuko wasn’t entirely sure how to deal with the situation, but, after much begging and whining, agreed.

Each move activated a pressure plate, and once they finished the dance, a panel in the center of the floor slid away, and a pedestal rose from the floor. What appeared to be a giant golden egg rested on top of the pedestal, shining with an inner light.

Things moved fast after that. Zuko picked up the egg – not one of his best ideas – and the glue trap activated, then they ended up stuck to the bottom of the grate. Then, they discovered the sun warriors hadn’t died out after all, and Zuko and Aang were given the chance to prove themselves.

It was nerve wracking, carrying the flame to the top of the mountain. Then they were standing on the raised platform, facing away from each other and toward two dark tunnels. Zuko swallowed past the lump in his throat. This was it. His fate would be decided, and then he would know the direction.

If he wasn’t pure enough, then, well, he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. He wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore.

But, despite how appealing the offer of relief sounded, Zuko found himself frantically hoping that he was pure enough of heart. He knew Aang was, that was clear enough to anyone within ten feet of him. Zuko, on the other hand, had done terrible things in the name of the Fire Nation. In the name of honor.

How could anyone like him have a good heart?

Then the dragons appeared, pushing away any and all thoughts from Zuko’s mind except this is impossible, the dragons are dead.

Apparently, though, the dragons were not dead, as there were two right in front of him.

They were majestic creatures, towering over Zuko as they rushed past him, swirling around the platform, shimmering scales shining in the late afternoon sunlight.

“Zuko!” Aang whisper-hissed from across the platform. “I think we’re supposed to do the dance with them.”

“What? What about this situation makes you think they want us to dance?” Zuko asked, glancing back over his shoulder.

“Let’s just try it.” Aang said, and Zuko sighed.

“Fine.”

The dragons dipped and danced around the platform, crossing over each other in an intricate pattern. Taking a deep breath, Zuko started the dance, matching his movements with Aang and the dragons.

For a moment he could clear his mind of all the worries that weighed on him and simply concentrate on the next step, the next movement. It was calming, peaceful, and Zuko found himself wishing it would never end.

But end it did, and the dragons slowed, then landed on the side of the platform.

The two dragons blew twin bursts of flame that circled the platform, rising high into the air, swirling around Zuko and Aang. Zuko could feel the heat radiating out of the flames, but instead of feeling fearful, all he felt was wonder.

It was almost like the flames were alive, shimmering with the brightest and most vibrant colors Zuko could ever have imagined. The fire pulsed, almost like it had a heartbeat.

This was what he was missing, Zuko realized. He had always thought of Fire as destruction, as a way to hurt and kill. It made sense, after all, the only thing he saw Firebending used for was pain, death, and destruction. But now, now he knew that he was wrong, Fire was so much more.

It was life, it was warmth. It was the heat of the sun on your back on a sunny day. It was a cup of tea with the ones you love. It was….

Beautiful.

Zuko understood.

He turned to Aang, not even a little ashamed of the tears that had collected in the corners of his eyes. “It’s wonderful.” He said, and Aang nodded in agreement, the million colors of the flames reflected in his wide eyes.

And then Aang was gone, lost amid the swirling multi-colored flames. Zuko spun around, searching for some sign of his friend, but Aang was nowhere to be seen.

“Zuko.” Twin voices said together in harmony. Two large heads emerged from the flames, the dragons somehow even larger than before. They loomed over him, golden eyes seeming to glow with a million colors in the firelight. “Zuko.” They repeated, beginning to circle around the pillar of fire, iridescent scales shimmering with inner light. “You have a decision to make.”

“I- what?”

What was going on? He had learned the truth about Firebending. What more was there?

“Tell me,” Said the red dragon – Ran. “What do you know about Energybending?”

Zuko blinked. He and Aang had come here to fix his bending, not for a lesson in crazy theories. But he wasn’t exactly going to say that out loud, so he bowed his head in respect. “Not much, but I do know some.”

“Hmm.” The dragons hummed together. “Do you know that the Avatar has an innate gift for Energybending?”

“No.”

The dragons began to circle faster, blurring together in a mix of blue and red. “And do you know that this power has the potential to end the war peacefully?”

“What?” Zuko thought back to that conversation with his uncle all those years ago. Energybending could be used to… Transfer or take away someone’s bending.

“And do you know the balance of Energybending?” The dragons were now circling so fast that all Zuko could see was the blue and red slithering over each other like twin rivers with golden sunlight reflecting off the surface.

“Darkbending.” Zuko said, beginning to feel a bit dizzy.

“And do you know,” All at once, the dragons stopped, the ring of flames still reaching high into the sky. The world grew quiet, as if hanging on the dragon’s every word. “Do you know,” The dragon’s voices grew louder, ringing in Zuko’s ears. “Do you know that you possess the potential of Darkbending?”

Zuko’s hands began to shake. Surely he hadn’t heard what he thought he had. “I- what?”

“Do you know that deep within you there is the power of death?” The two dragons slithered closer, pulling the front ends of their bodies out of the fire.

“No, I- You must be mistaken.” This couldn’t be real. This had to be some kind of trick, or a test of some kind. “I can’t Darkbend, I don’t even know much about it!”

“Hmmm.” Ran inched closer to him, lowering one great golden eye to meet Zuko’s. “It is there. I can see it.”

“I can smell it.” Shaw added, moving behind him.

“I- I don’t need to use it!” Zuko said, attempting in vain to steady his breathing. “I swear, I won’t use it, I don’t even know how!”

“No, of course not.” Ran turned his head to the side, wrapping around Zuko in a circle, leaving just enough room for Zuko to stand without touching the shimmering scales.

“You cannot reach it, the power is locked deep inside you.” Shaw slithered around him from the other side, the two colors entwining and forming a solid wall of scales. Both of the dragons turned their heads to stare directly at Zuko. “The power of Energybending is locked deep within the Avatar. Neither will be awakened without our help.”

“I- I don’t understand.” This was all too confusing. Energybending, Darkbending, it all sounded like it belonged in the realm of fantasy and children’s stories rather than in real life.

“If you want the Avatar to Energybend, you will have to pay the price.” Their voices hadn’t changed, but the words held a note of warning that sent a shiver down Zuko’s spine.

“What is the price?” He asked. He knew that Aang wouldn’t be able to kill Ozai. He had known for a while, but had still held out hope. After all, it was the duty, the destiny of the Avatar, and he had hoped that even the air monk’s teachings would have to fall eventually. But here the dragons were offering him another way, a way to end the war without any more bloodshed. What kind of person would he be if he didn’t take it?

“The price,” The dragons said together, “Is balance.” They uncurled from around him, moving faster than he thought possible, and in only a second, they hovered in the air in front of him. “There can be no Fire without Water. No Earth without Air. No Sun without Moon. No love without hate.” Their voices began to grow louder, shaking the earth and reverberating in Zuko’s chest. “No Yin without Yang. No Up without Down. No North without South! No Night without Day! No Darkness without Light! No Light without Darkness!”

“What- What does that have to do with me?” Zuko asked, even though he was beginning to understand.

“The world needs balance. For the Avatar to hold the power of life…”

“...I must hold the power of death.” Zuko finished.

The dragons dipped their heads in agreement. “Yes.”

“Why me?” For as long as he could remember, Zuko had never been special. He had always been average, or just a bit above. He had never had anything special that he could call his own. But this? Did he really want the power of death?

“Zuko, you have power and greatness written deep in your soul. Power is not good or bad, it is only a tool for the user to wield.”

“How do you know I won’t turn bad again? I made so many mistakes, and I hurt so many people, how do you know I won’t fall into evil again?”

“You have a good heart, Zuko. And, in some ways, your time spent in darkness will benefit you. It will be harder for you to fall back into the dark if you know what it feels like.”

“Can’t you give Aang Energybending without giving me Darkbending?” Zuko already knew the answer. The universe demanded balance, and without that balance, Zuko shuddered to think what might happen.

“You already know the answer to that. Do you wish to accept this power?”

“I…” Zuko trailed off. Did he? It was a lot of responsibility, and a lot of unknowns too. He didn’t even know how to Darkbend, much less keep it under control. But if accepting the ability to Darkbend gave Aang the ability to end the war peacefully, then he really only had one option. “Yes.” He bowed his head, slowly lowering himself to one knee. “I wish to accept this power.”

“Zuko, know this. The Darkness corrupts, yes, but also the light. Beware, for holding this much power can twist even the most pure heart into an unrecognizable shadow.”

“I understand.”

“Then rise.”

Slowly, Zuko got to his feet, his heart hammering in his chest. This was insane. He couldn’t do this. He… He had to do this. Shaw laid one claw on Zuko’s heart, while Ran laid one over Zuko’s forehead.

The dragons closed their eyes, and their scales began to shine brighter and brighter, until Zuko had to close his eyes to avoid the light.

“Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, we, by the power of Angi and all the spirits of this world, give to you the power over Death.” Their voices were booming, like peals of thunder.

“Accept this power and use it only for good, and let not the Darkness consume you!”

Everything disappeared.

Zuko fell.

***

He opened his eyes to the dark. It was cold and tight, and even though Zuko couldn’t see the walls around him, he knew they were there. He was trapped. Completely and absolutely trapped, with no way out.

He tried to scream. He shouted and yelled, but no sound came out of his mouth. The darkness silenced him, stealing the words from the tip of his tongue and crushing them in its unyielding grasp.

There was malice there, but also kindness. It was perplexing, a dizzying mix of hope and despair, love and hate, pain and joy…

It was suffocating, that dark. The inky blackness surrounded him like the depths of the ocean, dragging him down further and further, and his lungs were burning and burning, and he was going to drown here, all alone, in the dark, and he was going to DIE AND…

Chapter Text

“Come, Azula,” Ozai lay one hand on her shoulder, and Azula straightened up, determined to appear confident before her father. He led her through the halls of the palace, her short legs pumping wildly to keep up. She was only ten, but already knew she was destined to be great.

After all, she was a prodigy Firebender. Her flames were already beginning to tinge blue near the bottom, and her instructor said she had a good chance of harnessing lightning. She breezed through every new Firebending form, and easily passed Zuko, who was older.

“Where are we going?” She asked as they rounded another corner.

“The prison,” Ozai said, voice as cold and impassive as it always was. She had stayed quiet after that. She wasn’t dumb, she knew when to keep her mouth shut.

They had passed the many cells of the prison, heading deeper into the center, where the high profile cells were located. Azula stared curiously at the prisoners as they passed by, taking in their scrawny, dirty bodies and their hopeless expressions.

Then they had come to a stop outside one of the cells. Inside, a Water Tribe woman huddled in the corner, hugging her arms to her chest.

“What are we doing here?” Azula asked, keeping her voice low.

“Azula, you are the future.” Ozai took a key out of his pocket, unlocking the cell door and pushing it open. “You are the potential of the Fire Nation.”

Azula barely stopped a proud grin from crossing her face. Still, the praise bubbled up in her chest, filling her with warmth.

“So,” Ozai continued. “You have to learn what it means to be a leader.”

“What do you mean?” Azula stepped into the dingy, cold cell behind him, and Ozai closed the cell door.

“It means that you have to be willing to do anything to prove your strength.”

The Water Tribe woman raised her head, focusing her gaze on Azula. She was beautiful, or would’ve been if she wasn’t so dirty and bedraggled looking. Her hair was stringy and greasy, but still in the signature Water Tribe fashion, and she still wore her blue coat, now in tatters.

“What– what do you mean?” The first dredges of doubt begin to swirl in Azula’s stomach, dimming the bright glow of her father’s approval.

Ozai didn’t answer, instead addressing the Water Tribe woman. “You. What is your name?”

“Kya.” The woman – Kya – lifted her chin defiantly, glaring at Ozai.

"I don’t understand,” Azula said, “Why are we here?”

“Kya here is the last Waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe.” Ozai explained. “Now, you will get to be a part of the glory that is the Fire Nation conquest.”

“I don’t-”

“Listen, Azula.” Ozai slipped his hand into his pocket, drawing out a knife. It was a decorative knife, not meant to be wielded in battle. The blade was etched with swirling plumes of fire, and the hilt was shaped like a dragon’s head. “You have the honor of ending the Waterbender.”

Azula’s eyes widened. “End–?”

Ozai nodded, a proud smile on his face. “You have proven yourself ready to take the next step toward leadership.”

“I–” Azula could almost hear her mother’s voice in her head, urging her not to listen, that this was wrong. But her father was right there, and he was smiling at her. Telling her that he was proud.

“You have a choice.” He said, holding the knife out for her to take. “End her life quickly and painlessly, or draw it out painfully. Use the knife, or your Firebending, or anything else you should choose.”

Azula felt something uncomfortable twist in her chest. Was this really what it meant to be a leader? She was young, she didn’t want to kill anyone. Yes, she enjoyed watching others in pain, but this wasn’t the same. Could she really take that knife, and, with it, Kya’s life?

Ozai smiled at her, cheeks crinkling with the unfamiliar gesture.

Azula took the knife.

“I’ll wait outside,” Ozai said, bowing his head to her and turning to go. He vanished down the halls, but Azula couldn't shake the feeling that he was there, hovering just outside her field of vision. What was this? A test?

Slowly, tentatively, Azula met Kya’s gaze. The Waterbender was looking at her with something uncomfortably close to motherly understanding.

“It’s okay,” She said softly, lips quirking up in a half smile. “I understand.”

Azula couldn’t move. She was paralyzed, the weight of the knife impossibly heavy in her hand. “I–” She started, but couldn't find the words.

There was a line here, one that she hadn’t crossed before. She had crossed many, many lines before, but this one felt different, heavier, more important, somehow. If she decided to go through with this, there was no going back.

“What’s your name, child?” Kya said, shifting to her knees, metal manacles clinking around her wrists.

“I– Azula.”

Kya nodded, her soft smile warm and impossibly kind. “You’re about the same age as my own daughter, I'd guess.”

“I don’t want…” Azula started to say, the reality of the situation beginning to sink in. She was trapped, cornered, with no way out.

“It’s okay, Azula, I know.”

“But I…”

“Shhh, it’s okay.”

Azula looked down at the beautiful dagger in her hand. She remembered admiring it when it was hanging on the wall in her father’s study. Now, though, all thoughts of its beauty were pushed out of her head, and all she could see was its purpose, the only reason it existed at all.

‘Is that the only reason I exist too?’ She thought, the very idea so nauseating she nearly gagged.

“Azula, don’t let this destroy you.” Kya was still looking at her, blue eyes so full of understanding Azula very nearly threw herself into the Waterbenders arms to cling to her like a child. “I know you don’t have another option.” Kya continued. “Just promise that you’ll hold onto your humanity.” Her eyes were so sad, so full of pain and loss. “If you lose that, you lose everything.”

“I– I promise.” Azula nodded, forcing herself to take a step toward the woman. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Kya smiled again, offering as much comfort as she could, even as she was the one who was about to lose everything. Azula took another step, raising the knife in her trembling hand.

The world slowed down. She could hear each beat of her heart pulsing in her ears, feel each shaking breath raise her chest, smell the scent of blood as she pressed the dagger to Kya’s throat, feel the warm, sticky blood pour over her fingers, taste her own salty tears as they ran down her cheeks.

She was alive.

Kya was not.

Azula was alive, but at what cost?

***

Katara was well-known as the worry-wart of the group. She just couldn’t help it, she felt responsible for everyone on the team, even though she knew they could handle themselves.

It hadn’t even been a full day, Aang and Zuko had only been gone since that morning, of course they wouldn’t be back yet.

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the tentative silence was about to break.

And it did.

As it turned out, she was right to worry.

***

“Zuko?”

He groaned and squeezed his eyes tighter shut. The memory of the dark room haunted him, hovering just at the edge of his vision, as if beckoning him back inside its walls.

“Zuko, are you okay?”

Something was shaking his shoulder. No, someone. Aang.

“Zuko, please, wake up.”

He groaned and forced his eyes open. Aang was hovering above him, the evening sun reflecting off his head. Zuko blinked, waving Aang off and sitting up. His side ached, a dull throbbing pain that pulsed with the beating of his heart.

“What happened?” He asked, glancing around to get a read of his surroundings. The ground underneath him was moving and all he saw was sky. Oh. They were back on Appa.

“Well, we were in the flames, then you disappeared, then the flames were gone, and you were just lying there, unconscious, and I didn’t know what to do, and the leader of the Sun Warriors said that you were fine, and I thought that we should probably get back to the others. You’re okay, right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Zuko rubbed at his forehead, where a headache was forming.

It was odd, but he didn’t feel any different. It wasn’t like he suddenly knew how to make someone keel over dead with a wave of his hand.

“Did– did the dragons say anything to you?” Zuko asked tentatively. He wasn’t sure if Aang knew anything about Energybending, maybe that was common knowledge over a hundred years ago.

Aang stiffened, and Zuko took that as a yes. “I…” Aang trailed off, lost for words, for once in his life. “Yeah, they did.”

Zuko scooted to the edge of Appa’s saddle, peering over the edge. He didn’t know how to explain the dark room to Aang, though maybe he had gone through the same thing…

“Apparently I can Energybend?” Aang continued, and Zuko looked over at him. The boy’s face was tense, and his confusion and conflicted feelings shone through. “I don’t really know, I’ve never heard of it before, but the dragons said that it could be used to take away someone’s bending.

“Aren’t you happy?” Zuko asked, “I mean, now you don’t have to kill my fath– the Fire Lord. You can just take his bending away instead.”

"Yeah, I am.” Aang still looked troubled, and Zuko internally groaned. He didn’t exactly want to play psychoanalyzer with the Avatar, but here he was, doing just that.

“So what’s wrong?”

Aang shrugged. “I dunno, it just feels like it’s too easy. Something doesn’t feel right, you know?”

Zuko nodded. So he didn’t know about Darkbending, and that apparently Zuko had the ability to use it. For a moment, he toyed with the idea of telling Aang, but quickly dismissed it. He didn’t need Aang and the rest of the group being suspicious that he’d get corrupted with power and revert back to his evil ways. After all, he was still unsure of that himself.

“How long was I out?” He asked, watching the ground pass by underneath them.

“A while. We’re almost back to the camp.” Aang jumped up, using Airbending to propel himself far higher than was possible otherwise, landing on Appa’s head. “Actually, we should be there any–” He cut off suddenly, and Zuko looked up, joining him near the front of Appa’s saddle.

His eyes widened.

The Western Air Temple was on fire.

***

“So is now a good time to say that you’re an idiot?” Toph glared at Sokka. “Cuz you are.”

Sokka shrunk a little further down against the wall. “Yeah,” He said, voice barely more than a whisper. “I know.”

Toph sighed. She wasn’t doing any good scolding him, it was time to focus on their current predicament. Right. Wood walls. No metal to bend. Arms and hands tied with rope into a hard position to bend from. Airship. Wonderful.

“Any great plan, idea man?” She asked, shoving down the discomfort she felt at the fact that she could only feel the inside of the ship. Anything outside of that, and she was blind. Well, more than she already was.

“No,” Sokka said, and she shook herself out of her thoughts.

“No what?”

“No plans.” Sokka slumped further into himself, if that was even possible, and Toph frowned. Something was definitely going on with her friend. He wasn’t acting at all like his usual self. But, then again, perhaps while captured and on an enemy warship wasn’t the best place for a sincere heart to heart.

“Okay, well, at least Katara’s still out there.” Toph sighed, awkwardly maneuvering her hands into a semi-comfortable position. “And Aang and Zuko.”

They had been ambushed right after lunch, when everyone was scattered, doing basic chores. Azula and her henchmen had appeared out of nowhere with a small fleet of Airships, and really, the Team didn’t stand a chance. Toph hadn’t even had a chance to defend herself, since she couldn’t sense the airships.

Katara had been gathering water down at the stream, so she, at least, had managed to escape.

“It’ll be fine,” Toph said, forcing optimism into her tone. “It’ll all be okay in the end.”

Sokka shrunk further into his self-contained mope ball. “Maybe,” He said, sounding entirely unconvinced.

“Well, since we don’t have anything else to do, why don’t you tell me what’s got you acting all… I don’t know, Un-Sokka-y.”

Sokka huffed a little laugh at that, and Toph grinned to herself. Then Sokka grew serious again, the humor melting off him like a slow moving rockslide, tumbling away until it was just a heap of rocks on the ground.

“It’s fine, Toph, you wouldn’t understand.”

Toph crossed her arms in defiance. “Oh yeah? Well, why don’t you just try me?”

For a moment, Sokka was silent, and Toph thought he might open up to her. Then, he shook his head. “I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

“Oh. Okay.” Toph was disappointed, for sure, but maybe he just needed some time. He’d come around, eventually. “Well, I just want you to know–”

She was cut off by loud banging outside the cell door. The door slid open, scraping against the floor. “Well, hello, my little prisoners,” Azula said, her signature smirk already in place.

Toph crossed her arms tighter, ignoring the ropes pulling across her wrists and hands. She would dearly love to wipe that smug grin off of the Princess’s face.

“What do you want, Azula?” Toph snapped, glaring with all her might.

“Oh, nothing.” Azula’s voice was innocent, almost cheerful, and Toph’s desire to punch her grew. “I just wanted to come join the little heart-to-heart you were having.”

Toph snorted. Yeah right. “Well, there’s a lovely floor right there,” She said. “Or, even better, there’s a lovely door right behind you.”

Azula let out a little laugh, stepping further into the room. “Well, jokes aside, I need information. Where is the Avatar?”

Toph had to chuckle at that. “You sound just like Zuko, when we first met him. Have you been reading his autobiography?”

“You’re very funny,” Azula said, her voice not at all amused. “Now, you’re going to tell me what I want to know, or you won’t like the consequences.”

“We’ll never tell you anything.” Toph said, speaking for Sokka, who was still disturbingly silent. Usually he would be all over the chance to crack bad jokes and insult Azula.

Azula hummed, a pleasant enough sound, if you ignored the undercurrent of insanity. “Well, Beifong, maybe you won’t tell me anything, but he will.” She stepped toward Sokka, hauling him to his feet and dragging him toward the door.

“He won’t tell you anything!” Toph shouted after her.

Azula paused, face widening in a vicious grin. “If you believe that, you’re just lying to yourself.”

The door slammed shut behind her, and Toph sighed. She would just have to hope that whatever was going on with Sokka, he would figure it out in time to come up with a brilliant plan of escape. Unfortunately, that possibility was looking more and more unlikely.

Chapter Text

Katara couldn’t believe she had been so stupid.

She should have known better than to think that their camp would remain undiscovered forever, and should have insisted they move after Combustion Man had found them. Now, though, she was at a loss of what to do. Toph and Sokka were gone, as well as Haru and the others. Aang and Zuko were still out at the Sun Warrior ruins, and she was alone, with no way to contact anyone.

She huffed out a sigh, determined to stay angry at the situation. Otherwise, she would just end up feeling sorry for herself, and that wouldn’t help anything.

At the moment, her only plan was to watch the sky for Appa, and, once she spotted him, to follow until Aang landed. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was the only one she had, and it would have to be enough.

The sun was just beginning to set, and she desperately hoped Zuko and Aang would be back soon.

Momo jumped from the tree above her onto her shoulder, curling around her neck like a fuzzy scarf, and Katara reached up absentmindedly to pet him.

“What are we going to do, Momo?” She asked, voice soft. “Do you have any ideas?”

Momo chirped, nuzzling against her neck.

“Yeah,” Katara said with a sigh. “Dinner sounds good.”

There were a few scattered fruits laying on the ground, and Katara slid down against a tree, picking up a fruit and preparing for the long wait ahead of her.

***

“This is all my fault,” Aang said, the horror in his voice almost tangible. “Zuko, it’s my–”

“Shut up.” Zuko snapped, his patience long since run out. “We’ve been over this. It’s my fault, I was the one who lost my bending, so we had to go to the ruins. My fault, okay? Now stop whining.”

The attackers had left no trace, which Zuko wasn’t surprised by, though he knew exactly who had attacked.

“Sorry,” Aang said, hanging his head. “What are we going to do now?”

Zuko shrugged. He didn’t really have any ideas. Right now they were flying Appa close to the ground, in case any of the group had managed to escape. The next step, of course, would be to track down Azula, but that would be hard. There were no signs that she had come on foot, so their best guess was that she used flying machines, but that only helped a little.

The most likely place Azula would bring them would be to the palace to be tortured for information, or maybe the boiling rock prison. Either way, their odds didn’t look good.

A small, evil part of Zuko whispered that they shouldn’t bother to rescue the others. That the Avatar had everything he needed to defeat the Fire Lord. Zuko quickly squashed the idea. Toph was captured, and Sokka and Katara. They were his… friends?

“Hey!” Aang shouted, shaking Zuko’s shoulder to get his attention. Zuko winced. “Look! It’s Katara!”

Sure enough, a figure in blue was waving up at them, a stream of water bending up toward the sky and catching the colors of the sunset.

Katara.

Zuko nearly sighed in relief. She didn’t like him, no, but he didn’t want her to get hurt, and… he ended that thought process hastily. She would be vital in taking down his father, that was all.

Katara rushed to hug Aang as soon as they landed, and Zuko bit back a frown. The way that Aang looked at her, like she was the center of the universe, the only thing that mattered, like she was the sun and he was the moon… They way they both looked at the other, like everything made sense the minute they laid eyes on each other.

Zuko pushed down a surge of jealousy. He was fine. Really.

“What happened?” He asked, sharper than he meant it to be. Katara and Aang broke away their hug, and Katara ran a hand through her tangled hair.

“Azula attacked. We didn’t have enough warning to fend them all off, I’m so sorry, Aang, I tried my best, but the others are gone.” She looked down, her shoulders drooping with shame.

“It’s okay, Katara,” Aang said, always the quickest to comfort. “We’ll find them.”

"I guess.”

“Right.” Zuko said, and he couldn’t help feeling like he was intruding on a private moment. Still, he plowed ahead. There was no time for anything touchy-feely right now, not while the others were held hostage. “We need to get moving. Katara, I think we have some food on Appa.”

“Thanks Zuko,” She said, rather half-heartedly, as Momo scampered over to Aang and they all mounted.

They flew in silence for a while, each of the three lost in their own thoughts. Zuko had directed Aang to continue their current course until they’d made a decision about going to the Boiling Rock prison or the palace.

“So,” Zuko finally said, and Katara looked up blearily at him. He’d have to force her to sleep soon, or she’d keel over from exhaustion. “We need to decide if we’re going to go to the prison or the capitol.”

“Why?” Aang asked, looking back over his shoulder from his place on Appa’s head.

“Because, Azula took them to one of the two, I just don’t know which.”

“Oh.”

“I think,” Zuko began hesitantly. “That she’d take him to either the Boiling Rock prison, the most secure prison in the Fire Nation, or the palace.”

“Well?” Katara snapped, her weariness sharpening into an irrational anger. “Don’t you know which one she’d take them to? She’s your sister, remember?”

“I know, but–”

“Really, you are the worst thing that ever happened to us!” Katara crossed her arms, glaring at him with all the righteous anger of a sleep-deprived teenager who had lost nearly everything that mattered. “If it hadn’t been for you, this war would be over by now!”

Zuko knew he shouldn’t answer. He should pacify her, try to get her to calm down. But, she was all but assaulting his pride, and that was one thing Zuko could never let go.

“I don’t see how this is my fault,” He said coldly, glaring right back at her.

Katara sneered. “Really? Shall I list the reasons? One, you chased us around the world and made it incredibly hard for Aang to study his bending. Two, you sided with the Fire Nation in the caverns of Ba Sing Se and helped your sister nearly kill Aang. Three, you made Aang go with you to the Sun Warrior temple. If you hadn’t done that, you would have been able to defend the camp with–”

“Katara, I don’t see how this is helping.” Aang interjected, trying, as always, to keep the peace.

“Yes, I made some mistakes,” Zuko said, returning her heavy glare. “But I’m trying to be better. Besides, Aang needs a Firebending teacher, and unless you’re hiding another Firebender around here, you kind of need me!”

“We never needed you.” Katara stared at him, daring him to read the truth in her eyes. “You are nothing but an unwanted pest. No one will ever want you.”

Silence fell over the small group, Aang staring at Katara in shock, Zuko pulling back as if stung.

“I see,” He said, turning away. There wasn’t really anything he could say to that, was there? After all, she was right. He was simply a nuisance, a bother, unwanted and unloved. “Aang, steer us toward the Boiling Rock Prison.”

***

“So,” Azula drawled, kicking her feet up on the table and leaning back in her chair. “Let’s start, shall we?”

Sokka swallowed, steeling what remained of his frayed nerves. “I won’t tell you anything.”

Azula shrugged. There was a certain kind of grace to her movements that always reminded Sokka of an Eagle-Cat. She moved smoothly and quietly, each step thought out in advance, each strike well planned. She was the Eagle-Cat, and he was her prey.

“I don’t know how you stand your sister,” Azula said casually, though her piercing gaze was still fixed on Sokka’s. “I couldn’t imagine traveling with Zu-Zu for as long as you’ve traveled with… What’s her name? Katya? Kala?” She leaned forward, setting her feet on the ground. “...Kya?”

Sokka’s heart decided to stop working at the sound of his mother’s name. Her body had never been found. Maybe, just maybe… No. Azula wouldn’t know anything about her. The name was a coincidence, that was all.

“Katara.” He said instead, breaking eye contact and looking around the room instead. He was in some kind of plain office, with wooden walls and a single desk.

Azula waved her hand in the air lazily. “Yes, her. Zuko and I would have killed each other many times over by now. Well, I would have killed Zuko. He just doesn’t have what it takes.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point? Hm, let’s see. Do you love your sister?” She paused, as if waiting for an answer. Sokka nodded. “Well,” She continued, “I’ve got Katara in the Airship right behind us. It would be a shame if something were to happen to her.”

Sokka’s heart decided, for the second time in as many minutes, to stop functioning. If anything happened to Katara, he would be devastated. He would be ruined, and Azula knew it. “You’re bluffing,” He said, trying to force conviction into his voice. “You don’t have her.”

Azula shrugged. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Either way, are you willing to take that chance?”

“I–”

“Do hurry up, I haven’t got all day.”

Sokka’s mind raced, whirling around in circles, trying to find some way out of this. What if she really did have Katara? Sokka would never forgive himself if she was hurt when he could have prevented it. Even if she didn’t have Katara, he didn’t really have a choice. He slumped in his chair, and Azula smirked. She had won, and they both knew it.

“Alright,” Sokka said, praying that Katara and the others would forgive him. “What do you want to know?”

***

“The Boiling Rock is the most secure prison in the fire nation, built to keep inmates in, and anyone else out.” Zuko pointed to the smoke in the distance. “The lake around it is incredibly hot, it will burn you if you just touch it.”

“Well,” Katara said, leveling her glare at the smoke. “They didn’t plan for a Waterbender.”

“Even then, it won’t be easy,” Zuko said, “We’ll need someone to stay with Appa. He can’t handle the heat for too long, and besides, he’s our way out.”

“I’m going,” Katara said with a glare toward Zuko.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t. But before we can get anyone out, we need to find them. If they’re not here, we slip away unnoticed and fly to the palace.”

“How are we going to get in?” Aang asked.

“The smoke. It should cover our entrance.” Zuko pulled a piece of paper out of his bag. Earlier, he had sketched a simple floor plan of the Prison. He had studied the design when he was younger, and had remembered a fair amount of the general layout. “Here,” He said, tapping a spot on the map. “This is the armory. We’ll pick up prison guard uniforms, then blend in with the rest of the guards until we find them.”

“That’s it?” Aang asked, surprised.

Zuko nodded. “Aang, you stay with Appa. You look far too young to be a guard, and anyway, we’ll need a Firebender if something goes wrong.”

“But-” Katara started to protest, but Aang cut her off.

“That makes sense. How will I know when to pick you up?”

Zuko frowned, studying his map. “Watch here,” He said, pointing to an outlet of rock on the volcano rim. “If you stay here, you should have a clear view of this watchtower here. I’ll send up a flare of fire, or Katara will bend water, or something. That’ll be the signal.”

Aang nodded. “Okay.”

“Fine,” Katara said with one last glare at Zuko. “Let’s go get our friends back.”

Chapter Text

Aang was bored. He had dropped Katara and Zuko off at the Prison, making sure to stay hidden in the smokescreen created by the boiling water, and was now waiting at the watch spot. It had only been around three hours, but had already exhausted all forms of entertainment.

“Momooooo.” He whined, flopping down on his back. “You gotta think of something for us to do! I’m so bored.” Momo gave him a judgemental stare, taking another big bite of his fruit. “Hey!” Aang said, sitting upright and snatching the fruit from Momo’s hands. “You can’t eat that! We don’t have much food left, we have to ration.”

Momo chirped sadly, staring pleadingly up at Aang, his big round eyes watering. Aang hesitated. “Well, fine,” He said, relenting. The lemur pulled the fruit from his hand and chowed down, hopping to sit on Aang’s shoulder.

“These last few days have been so weird. I mean, there was the whole Firebending Masters thing.” He waved his arms around, as if to convey the enormity of the weirdness that had been the last few days. “Seriously! Like, what even is Energybending? And how do I use it? I mean, it’s great that I don’t have to kill the Fire Lord, but I need to figure out how it works!”

Appa let out a rumble from the low cave they had found, and Aang nodded his agreement. “You’re right. I should try it out.” He scanned the rocky cliff around them, finding only a few small weeds sticking out of the rough ground. “That should work.”

Sitting down in front of the weeds, Aang took up a meditative pose, breathing deeply and focusing on the wind around him. Soon, he was calm and still, and he opened his eyes. His eyes widened in surprise, and he very nearly broke out of his stance.

Golden lines of light filled the small weeds, tracing glowing pathways from the petals up through the stem to the flowers. It was gorgeous, the lines shifting and crossing over each other to look almost like breathing. It was like Aang could see the very essence of the flower, the energy, the life flowing through it.

“Wow.” He breathed, transfixed by the soft beauty of the golden light. Slowly, painstakingly, he shut his eyes, and though he couldn’t see the golden lines, he could feel them, tugging gently on his concentration, as if begging him to reach out and see.

Aang followed the light’s lead, reaching out with his senses and touching the lines. With a sudden lurch, the golden light in the weeds responded, rippling over each other in their haste to get to him. The light was like a current, surging toward him, unstoppable.

Letting out a surprised yelp, Aang broke out of his meditative pose and fell backward, laying panting on the rough dirt. Slowly, he sat up, the world once more returned to normal, the lines of light gone, disappeared without a trace, as if they had never even been there in the first place.

The weeds were brown and wilted, their stalks stooping low near the ground, petals limp and lifeless. Aang’s eyes widened. Had he done that?

“I don’t understand!” He said to Momo, who was now staring curiously up at him from beside his leg. “I thought Energybending was all about life! What happened? Why did I kill the flower?”

Momo blinked up at him.

“Where did the energy go?” Aang stared at the dead weed, trying to push away the guilt. It was just a weed, it wasn’t like he had taken the Chi of something alive, right? He shook his head. “What do I do now?”

Appa grumbled from inside the cave, and Momo chittered his agreement.

“You’re right!” Aang said, springing to his feet and running to his pack, pulling out his meditation beads. He settled back into his meditation, holding the Fire medallion in his hand.

The world slowed around him, and when he opened his eyes again, Avatar Roku was sitting in front of him. The golden lines were still there, shimmering behind Roku, and Aang wanted to reach out and touch the light.

“Aang,” Roku said, his unreadable gaze fixed on Aang’s.

“Avatar Roku, I need help. I learned from the Dragons that I can Energybend, but I don’t know how to use it. I tried it and accidentally killed that flower.”

“I see. Energybending is a lost art. I do not know enough to help you, but another Avatar may.” He inclined his head toward Aang. “I shall send you to Min, Airbender from long, long ago. She was one of the most accomplished Energybenders.”

“Thank you, Master Roku,” Aang said, returning the respectful bow. When he looked up, Roku was gone, and in his place sat a beautiful young woman. She had delicate features, soft dark hair shaved halfway in the style of the Airbenders. Aang felt a pang of homesickness at the sight of the traditional tattoo down the middle of her forehead and on her hands.

“Avatar Aang,” She said with a respectful nod toward him. Her voice was warm and kind, and reminded Aang of the days in the sun, high up on the mountain by the Air temples.

"Avatar Min,” He said, bowing his head. “I need to ask for your help.”

“Yes,” She said. “You were granted the ability to Energybend by the Dragons, correct?”

Aang nodded. “How do I use it?”

“Energybending is like the wind.” She raised her arm, pushing one hand forward, palm flat and facing Aang, and a gust of wind blew past him, just barely grazing his face. “It is the natural ebb and flow of life. As a bender, all you are doing is influencing the direction of the flow.”

“What?” Aang frowned. “But the energy is gone. From the flower, I mean.”

Min shook her head. “No, you didn’t destroy the energy, you took it. You changed the direction of the flow to yourself.” She lifted one hand and pointed to Aang’s chest. “Feel inside. Can you not feel the energy that you took?”

Aang tried to feel it, concentrating on the energy he knew was deep inside him. “I don’t feel anything.”

“Here.” Min brought her hands together, cupping the air and slowly pulling one hand over the other, forming a closed circle around the empty air. “Watch.” She drew one hand away, revealing a beautiful butterfly resting on her palm, golden lines criss-crossing throughout its small body. “Energybending deals with Chi. More specifically, it deals with the flow of Chi. All energy flows within a living organism naturally. All you are affecting is the direction.”

She made a motion with her hand, pulling it close to her body. Aang could see the golden lines of light pull away from the butterfly towards Min, jumping from the butterfly to Min’s hand. Carefully, Min set the butterfly on the ground and cupped the lines of light, keeping them still in her palm. “When you are more experienced, you can keep the Chi outside of your body, holding it still for a short period of time.”

“Did you kill it?” Aang asked, staring down at the butterfly on the ground. It stood still, wings moving lazily back and forth. Its colors were muted, almost washed out, and Aang couldn’t tell if it was really alive, or the wind was blowing its wings.

“No,” Min said, pinching a strand of light and gesturing, flicking the line toward the butterfly. “See, there are different types of Chi. Earth Chi is different from Fire Chi, and so on.” She flicked another line of light toward the animal, and Aang could almost see the colors returning to its wings.

“Now, all of the elemental Chi’s can be sorted into one category. That is what Energybending deals with.”

“But I killed the flower!” Aang protested, gesturing to the limp, brown weed.

Min shook her head. “No, you took its Chi. There is a difference.”

Aang frowned. This was all very confusing. “Wait, so the flower and butterfly both have elemental Chi?”

“Of sorts. They can not interact with their Chi like a bender can, but yes.”

“Oh.” Aang nearly scratched his head. “Wait. You said that elemental Chi was one category. What’s the other?”

Min smiled, a warm smile that felt like a sunbeam on a cold day. “Very good, Aang. The other is existential Chi, or the energy that gives life.”

Aang’s eyes widened. “Can I bend… that… too?”

Min shook her head. “No.”

“Good,” Aang said with a sigh of relief. He never wanted to have that much power over someone else. Why, just the thought of what the ability would mean was enough to scare him. Though, the flower he had bent on had certainly looked dead. “Why does the flower look so dead, then?” He asked.

“Because, you didn’t take its life, but you took its ability to grow. It can still sustain life, but not grow or reproduce. It would stay like that, almost frozen in time, until you gave it back its Chi, or something else came and changed its state.”

“Oh.” Aang didn’t exactly understand everything Min had said, but he definitely knew more than he had before. “Thank you, Avatar Min.”

“Of course.” Min bowed her head, Aang following her lead, and when he looked up, she was gone.

***

“Well, here we are!” Ty Lee announced, as cheerful as always. “Fire Nation palace, right up ahead!”

Toph nearly sighed with relief. Yes, they would be prisoners in the heart of the Fire Nation, but she would be back on solid ground. Sokka had returned from his conversation with Azula even more of a mopey mess than he had left. She had asked, but he hadn’t said anything, and she feared the worst.

Guards manhandled them out of the ship, pulling Toph’s hands roughly behind her back. On the ship, she had made up her mind not to resist arrest. She might have been able to escape, but not with Sokka, and she wasn’t about to leave him. Whatever happened, whatever they went lay ahead, they would face it together.

“This way, please!” Ty Lee said, and Toph half-wondered if the Fire Nation’s torture technique was to expose them to Ty Lee’s impossible bubbliness for long periods of time. “Is this your first time in the Fire Nation? Ooo, I bet you would love Fire Flakes. And maybe I could show you typical styles of dress from different areas. It’s fascinating, really. Do you like tea? I could make you my favorite…”

Toph tried her hardest to drown out the meaningless chatter. If this was torture, she could see how it would be effective.

They were led down a series of hallways, headed further into the prison. Soon, the ground started to slope down, and Toph could sense metal cells up ahead. She nearly grinned. They clearly didn’t plan for a Metalbender. Busting out of here would be super easy, barely an inconvenience at all.

Ty Lee stopped in front of a cell, and the guards tossed Toph roughly into the room.

“Here you go!” Ty Lee said, and the guards closed the door, separating her from Sokka.

“Where– Where are you taking me?” Sokka asked, and Toph could feel his erratic heartbeat speed up.

Ty Lee shrugged. “Azula has a special cell for you. Come on, let’s go!”

“Sokka!” Toph shouted as the guards grabbed Sokka and began to drag him away. “We’ll get out, don’t worry!”

He didn’t reply, and Toph stepped back into the cell, taking a moment to survey her surroundings. The cell was small, about four feet square, with a thin mattress pushed against one corner, a bucket in the other. Toph frowned. The smell radiating from the bucket certainly suggested what it was used for. Toph sat on the bed.

The reality of the situation was beginning to set in. Her arms were still tied tightly, and though she would be able to work them free enough to bend, she had no idea where Sokka was being taken, not to mention the Fire Nation guards crawling around the prison. She just hoped Aang and Zuko found Katara.

Not all hope was lost. Toph knew that Aang and the others would come for her and Sokka, it was just a question of when, and what would happen before they arrived.

***

Aang stood up and put his meditation beads away, suddenly feeling quite hungry. Jogging over to their food pack, he quickly discovered that while he was distracted, Momo had single-handedly eaten half of their rations. “Momo!” He shouted, the lemur dropping his half-eaten fruit. “You ate all our food!”

Momo blinked up at him, chirping accusingly as if to say, ‘You left me alone, what did you think was going to happen?’

Aang sighed, flopping down next to the lemur. “I hope Katara and Zuko are back soon. How long do you think it’s going to take them?”

Momo jumped on Aang’s head and made himself comfortable, his fuzzy tail hanging down over Aang’s eye. “Momo!” Aang cried, laughing. Then, an idea struck him, and he stilled, thinking. If he wanted to have any chance at all against the Fire Lord, he needed to learn how to control his Energybending. The Fire Lord wouldn’t wait around for him to stumble through a few sloppy forms, Aang needed to be fast and certain.

“Alright, get off,” He said, scooping Momo off his head and setting him on the ground. “And no more food for you, either. Appa, you watch him.”

Aang closed his eyes and concentrated, focusing on the memory of the golden lights, and when he opened his eyes again, there they were, beautiful lines of life. Momo and Appa were filled with golden light, the strands twisting around and around while Momo moved.

Carefully, Aang raised his hands and held one palm out, facing toward the lemur. With the other hand, he made a large circular gesture, his arms moving almost without thought. Somehow, he knew exactly what he needed to do, and his hands did it for him. He shifted his stance, pulling back gently, gesturing for the golden light to follow him.

It obeyed, slowly separating from the entwined strands and stretching toward Aang’s extended hand. An overwhelming sense of peace and rightness washed over Aang, and he brought his palm down to face upward, cupping the golden lines as they crossed the empty space between him and Momo. This was good. It was natural, and right, and all he was meant to be.

The lines drained out of Momo’s small body, seeping through the skin of Aang’s hand. Aang’s whole arm filled with warmth, and as the golden energy traveled toward his heart, the warmth followed, leaving Aang with a sense of peace and happiness so strong he almost didn’t notice when Momo fell forward, curling into a ball and tucking his head into his wings.

Almost, but not quite.

He dropped his hands, peace suddenly replaced by absolute horror. “Momo!” He cried, falling to his knees beside the lemur. “Momo, are you okay?” With shaky hands, he pulled Momo’s wings away from his head to reveal glassy eyes, staring at nothing.

“Momo?” Aang repeated, trying desperately to convince himself that Momo was just fine, just a little tired, or maybe too full from all that food. “Momo?”

Momo blinked, his wide eyes settling on Aang. He didn’t move.

“Take it back!” Aang said frantically, holding out his hand. “Take back the light! I don’t want it!”

Momo still didn’t move, holding unnaturally still and looking so unlike himself Aang felt tears push at the back of his eyes. “I didn’t mean…” He trailed off, a lump in his throat making it hard for him to speak. “I’m sorry,” He whispered, bowing his head and letting the tears come. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Chapter Text

‘Just promise you’ll hold on to your humanity. If you lose that, you lose everything.’

The resemblance really was uncanny. Azula didn’t know how it had taken her this long to connect the dots. Kya, the waterbender from so long ago. Sokka and Katara, now.

‘You’re about the same age as my daughter.’

That day had changed her. In the dungeon, holding the bloodied knife, Azula felt something break inside of her, something irreplaceable, a core part of who she was. In the end, it had been for the best, however. Whatever had broken had deserved its fate. It was weak, and weakness was unacceptable.

That was one of the many advantages she had over Zuko. Somehow, despite their father’s best attempts to beat it out of him, he still believed in good and evil. He might not even be aware that he did, but Azula saw it, plain as day. It was pathetic, honestly. He still didn’t understand.

It didn’t matter if there was good and evil or not. In the end, all that mattered was that she had won, and he had lost. She was strong, he was weak. He was powerless, she was powerful.

That’s all that mattered. Power.

And oh, how powerful she felt, stalking down the halls of the prison, headed to the very same cell where she had killed for the first time. She had changed since the last time she had come down here. She was dangerous, deadly, merciless.

Yes, maybe she had killed for the first time on her father’s orders, but she hadn’t been ordered to keep killing. She did anyway. Whatever consciousness she may have had, once upon a time, had burned in the fires of her power, and there was nothing standing in her way.

The guards at the door nodded to her as she stopped in front of them. “Thank you,” She said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You may go.” It wasn’t a request, and the guards scurried off like the pathetic rats they were.

She opened the cell door and stepped inside, the weight of her dagger pressing against the side of her leg reassuringly.

‘It’s okay. I understand.’

She paused. For a moment, she was ten years old again, holding a knife to a woman’s throat, feeling the warm blood trickle over her fingers. Blood had dried under her fingernails, and she had scrubbed for ten minutes to get it all out. She had cried, too, bawled like a child. She had sobbed, thrown up, tried to drown out the memories of Kya’s kind face, twisted in pain as her life slipped away.

In fact, she had shut herself away for three days, ignoring anyone who tried to make her come out. Zuko had tried. He had told her that he was there if she needed to talk, and that he would always be there for her, no matter what. The weaker part of her had wanted to open the door and throw herself into his arms, let herself break down and beg for understanding.

But she had pushed down that small voice, and when she emerged from her room at the end of the three days, she had made up her mind. Compassion, empathy, love, all weakness. Power. There is only power.

‘Hold on to your humanity.’

“Hello again.” Azula said, stepping further into the room and giving the Water Tribe boy a condescending look. “Did you miss me?”

The boy’s gaze flicked up to her for a second, then jumped away. She sneered. How weak. He couldn’t even hold eye contact.

“You’ve been very helpful.”

“What do you want from me?”

Azula shrugged innocently. “Me? I just like watching people bleed.” She watched his face fill with dread and fear. Honestly, it was too easy. Hadn’t he been more fun before?

It was a good question, though. If she was being completely truthful – and she rarely was – there was no reason to come down here at all. All the information she needed, she had already gathered, and he wasn’t useful for much else. She had just felt compelled to visit the cell, for reasons she wasn’t entirely sure of.

And then Sokka was gone, replaced in an instant by Kya, staring up at her with that infuriatingly sincere kindness and compassion. Azula didn’t understand how anyone could ever be that kind. To an enemy, to her soon to be murderer. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense.

Oh.

That was what she was looking for. Azula understood, all at once, why she had retraced her steps of so long ago. She needed to know why Kya had been so kind. Why she had been so calm. So compassionate. It wasn’t logical. It didn’t make any sense. But it was true, and now Azula had an opportunity to ask her very own son.

“Azula?” Sokka asked, breaking her out of her thoughts. “Are you okay?”

Azula realized that she had been standing there, frozen, for a while, and she blinked, pushing aside the revelations. She was about to brandish her knife when his words registered. Three simple words. Are you okay. Why in Agni would her enemy, her prisoner, ask if she was okay?

Was this some Water Tribe trick, some ploy to make her doubt herself? Or did…

“Azula?”

She nearly jumped, snapping her attention back to the chained up boy in front of her. Had she zoned out again?

“Are you aware,” She said, forcing herself to act casual, like her mind wasn’t a whirlwind of thoughts and questions. “Of your mother’s fate?”

***

Katara was finding it harder and harder to resist punching the wall. Or a prisoner’s face. Sure, the prisoner’s hadn’t done anything to her, but it would be very satisfying to feel the cracking of the nose under her fists.

She and Zuko had found the armory without incident, and had split up to search for the others. It had been only a few hours, but she already knew that they weren’t there. She was still holding out hope, but it was painfully clear that they weren’t here. It wasn’t a small prison, exactly, in fact, it was quite large, but she had managed to chat to a few other guards, and they had told her that there were no prisoners matching their description.

Growing anger curled in her chest like a sleeping dragon, ready to wake at the slightest disturbance. If there was one thing she hated most of all, it was feeling helpless. And oh did she feel helpless now. Zuko had been wrong. Azula hadn’t taken them to the Boiling Rock, and now they were far ahead, most likely in the heart of the Fire Nation.

Katara stalked through the halls of the Prison, her heavy Fire Nation armor clinking softly with each step. Guards and prisoners alike scrambled out of her way, picking up on her anger loud and clear. It made her feel good, in a twisted, cruel sort of way. She could make them fear her. Then she wouldn’t feel helpless.

Shaking her head to scatter the evil thoughts, Katara turned down a corridor, fairly sure that it was the right way to the meeting spot she and Zuko had picked. They had decided to meet out on the main deck, where prisoners in drab brown-gray clothes milled about aimlessly. They would blend in perfectly with the other guards standing watch around the edge of the prison, and be able to talk freely.

Not that she wanted to talk to Zuko, mind you. He was the reason they were still here instead of headed to the Fire Nation palace, where Sokka and Toph actually were. Even though Azula was his very own sister, he had led them wrong, and now they had lost any chance of getting them back without infiltrating the Fire Nation capital.

Katara barely restrained herself from screaming in rage as she clomped out into the sunlight and towards their meeting spot. Zuko was already there, evidently keeping watch over the prisoners with rim-rod straight posture and an unmoving gaze.

“Well?” She snapped as she fell into place beside him. “Anything?” She already knew the answer, of course, but maybe, just maybe…

Zuko shook his head. “Nothing. Sorry. They’re not here.”

The rage dragon in Katara’s chest stirred, and she took a deep breath, placating it, for now. “This was a massive waste of time. We need to signal Aang and get out of here as soon as possible.”

“Alright. The next change of the guards is in twenty minutes. That’s our opportunity.”

“Fine.”

Silence fell between them, tense and cold, like a frozen glacier separating them.

Zuko broke the silence, turning his head to look at Katara. “I’m really sorry, Katara, I really thought that Azula would bring them here. I didn’t mean–”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter now.” Katara interrupted, glaring straight ahead and refusing to meet his amber eyes. “Every second we stay here is another second Sokka or Toph or one of the others could be getting tortured or who knows what else in the Fire Nation. It’s not me you have to apologize to.”

Though the apology certainly didn’t hurt. Ash Makers were all the same, spreading death and destruction everywhere they went, even if they insisted that they had changed. Katara couldn’t believe she had trusted Zuko down in the caverns under Ba Sing Se. She had been so naive. Had actually believed that Zuko was something of a human being under all those layers of anger and pricklyness.

Ha. Zuko would never amount to anything akin to a hero. The closest he could ever get was to start repaying the many, many debts he had racked up from all the lives he had stolen, all the families torn apart.

“I know.” Zuko said, and Katara debated for a second – merely a second – bending a tiny bit of the boiling water around them to splash on Zuko. “I know I made another mistake, I make a lot of those, but I’m trying to make it up to you. We’ll get them out.”

Katara glared straight ahead, not trusting herself to answer without shouting. She could make it through twenty minutes, and then she’d at least have Aang to talk to, and could ignore the failed prince entirely.

Gran-Gran had warned her about her temper many times over. There was one occasion that rose to Katara’s mind, long ago, when she and Sokka were still young.

“I’m gonna kill you!” Katara screamed, her short legs pumping wildly to catch up to her older, faster brother. “I’m gonna tear you to pieces!”

Sokka’s laugh echoed over the frozen landscape, only enlarging Katara’s anger. How dare he laugh at her. She would show him exactly what’s what.

She gritted her teeth and ran faster, hoping to cut him off before he reached the village. He had stolen her favorite toy, a stuffed seal by the name of Kiko, and hid it in their neighbor’s Spider-Puppy house. Unfortunately, the Spider-Puppy had chewed Kiko to pieces.

Sokka thought it was all good fun, but Katara was furious, set on murderous rage. She wouldn’t kill him, no matter how she threatened it, but she would punch him until he realized exactly what he had done.

The village lay just ahead, people milling about with their daily tasks. Katara chased Sokka through the huts, pure rage allowing her to forget the burning in her legs at her speed. She was closing in on Sokka now, so close…

“Sokka! Katara!” Gran-Gran stepped out of her hut, hands on hips. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

Katara nearly ignored her, but took one glance at her expression and decided against it. Gran-Gran could be intimidating, despite her age, and right now Katara could tell she meant all business. Sokka skidded to a stop in front of her, and she followed suit, powdered snow swirling into the air at her sudden stop.

The two children stood there, panting for breath, before the judge of the case, Sokka grinning ear to ear, Katara glaring at Sokka with murder in her eyes.

Gran-Gran folded her arms. “Now, why don’t you come inside and tell me what happened.” It wasn’t a question, and Sokka and Katara reluctantly followed her into the tent, taking seats on the sealskin rug.

“Sokka stole Kiko!” Katara blurted out, sticking out her bottom lip in a pout. “He stole Kiko and gave her to the neighbor’s Spider-Puppy, and now Kiko’s all chewed up!”

Gran-Gran turned to Sokka, raising an eyebrow. “Is this true?”

Sokka nodded, his grin evaporating.

“Hm.” Gran-Gran sighed, some of her anger draining away. “I’ll deal with you later. Don’t go far. Katara, stay.” Sokka nodded and lept up, all but running out of the tent. Katara
slouched, sticking out her bottom lip. This was so unfair. Why did she have to get punished, and Sokka, whose fault it was in the first place, got to go free? No, this wasn’t fair at all.

“Katara,” Gran-Gran said, taking a seat opposite Katara. “You remember what I always tell you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Katara rolled her eyes. Same lecture as always. “I have to learn to control my temper.”

Gran-Gran nodded, fixing Katara with her most impressive disappointed glare. “Katara, I tell you again and again, what do you not understand? I know you are young, but you hold so much anger inside.”

“So?” Katara folded her arms, sticking out her bottom lip. “It’s not my fault that Sokka stole Kiko.”

“No, but you chose violence over peaceful conversation.”

"Talking never solves anything!”

Gran-Gran shrugged. “You’d be surprised. Sokka was wrong. Yes. I’ll talk to him next. But for now, just think for a moment. If you had caught up with him, what would you have done?”

Katara didn’t need long to answer the question. “Punched him,” She said, sticking her nose in the air. “Punched him and kicked him and hurt him.”

“Hm. And how would that make you feel?”

“Good!” Katara looked at Gran-Gran, puzzled. She wasn’t doing much to make Katara sorry.

“I see. And how would it make you feel after you calmed down?”

Katara paused. “I dunno, happy?”

“Why?”

"I don’t know, because he got what he deserved?”

“And why do you get to decide what he deserves?”

“Because Kiko’s mine!”

“Yes, Kiko’s yours. You have every right to be mad.”

Katara frowned. This was the oddest scolding she had ever received.

“But,” Gran-Gran continued. “You don’t have the right to hurt Sokka to get revenge.”

“But he–”

Gran-Gran held up a hand, and Katara trailed off, letting out a huff of annoyance. “I know what he did, Katara, but what he did doesn’t mean you have the right to hurt him. He will be punished, yes, but not by you. Besides, if I hadn’t stopped you, you would have hurt him, and when you calmed down, you would realize you were wrong.”

“No I wouldn’t!” Katara scowled at Gran-Gran, but deep down, she knew the old woman was right. Her anger had slowly trickled away, and though she was still mad, she didn’t want to hurt Sokka. In fact, she was rather appalled she had ever wanted to hurt him.

She slumped a little, shame beginning to replace her anger. “I’m sorry, Gran-Gran.”

Gran-Gran leaned forward and scooped Katara into a hug, enveloping the small girl in a warm embrace. “I know, my dear. I know.”

Katara sniffled. The anger was all but gone, now, as temperamental as the tide.

“Now,” Gran-Gran said, pulling back from the hug. “Why don’t you run along. I’ll talk to Sokka, and then we’ll see what can be done about poor Kiko. Alright?”

Katara nodded, managing a watery smile. “Alright.”

Rage had always been her downfall, even as a child. Katara was passionate. She always had been. But rage and passion often walk hand-in-hand.

She glanced over at Zuko, who had managed to maintain the perfectly straight posture, while Katara had slouched without realizing it. Her scowl deepened, even as she straightened up and pushed back her shoulders.

It had only been about ten minutes, so they had another ten to wait before the change of the guards.

It was fine, though, she could handle ten minutes.

Then, since the universe loved games, she spotted Suki, sitting alone with her face turned to the side. Suki’s hair was longer than Katara remembered, and her face dirtier, but it was definitely her.

Katara jabbed an elbow into Zuko’s side to get his attention, harder than was necessary. He let out a grunt and glared at her.

“What was that for?” He hissed, and Katara smirked, before realizing what exactly she was trying to get his attention for.

“Look,” she said, nodding her head toward Suki. “That’s Suki.”

“Who?”

“One of the Kyoshi warriors? You set her village on fire.”

Zuko paused, and Katara could almost hear the wheels in his head spinning. “Ah. I see.”

“We need to get her out of here.”

“Okay, but how are we going to talk to her without drawing attention?”

A plan began to form in Katara’s mind, a hasty, rushed, not very good plan, but a plan nonetheless. She grinned. “We’re not going to try.”

Zuko looked up at her, surprised. “What? What are you–”

But he didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, because Katara began to walk purposefully toward Suki, crossing her arms and scowling fiercely.

“Hey! You!”

“What are you doing?” Zuko hissed as he trailed behind her, but Katara ignored him.

“You there! Prisoner!”

Suki looked up, her face hardening into a scowl. “What do you want?” She asked, getting to her feet and glaring at Katara.

“You did a terrible job cleaning the deck today!” Katara yelled. On second thought, she really should have come up with a better reason to talk to Suki. Cleaning the deck? Really?

“What?” Suki asked. “Why would you care?”

“Because you’re a slacker!” Out of the corner of her eye, Katara could see other guards and prisoners beginning to take notice of the scene, forming a loose circle around her and Suki. Luckily, Zuko had gotten the message to stand back, and was in line with the rest of the circle.

“What are you going to do about it?” Suki demanded, as defiant as ever.

“I’m going to—”

“Hey! What’s going on here?” The booming voice of the captain of the guards cut through the whispered hush of conversation, and Katara nearly gulped. She had hoped to avoid this, but, well… Clearly she hadn’t thought this through.

“This prisoner,” She said, turning around to face the captain. “She’s been slacking off during work hours!”

“Hmm.” The captain turned to examine Suki, and Katara felt her heartbeat speed up. Please, let this work, she thought. “Well, prisoner, I suppose probationary tactics are necessary.” He jerked a thumb toward Katara. “You, bring her to her cell. We’ll send someone in later to… Help convince her to act a little better.” The captain grinned, a cruel smirk that reminded Katara of a Snail-Shark. What had she just dragged Suki into?

“Oh, and you!” The captain spun on his heel, pointing into the ring of prisoners and guards. “Help her out.”

Katara gripped Suki by the arm and hauled her off into the compound. She heard footsteps behind her, and, chancing a glance behind her, was relieved to see the edge of Zuko’s scar poking out from behind the helmet.

“What are you doing?” He hissed once he had caught up.

“Shut up!” Katara whispered back, and Suki faltered for just a second, sending a curious look at Katara, as if she had recognized her voice.

“But you heard what the captain said,” Zuko continued, and Katara rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, but we’ll be long gone by the time he arrives.”

“Katara?” Suki whispered, and Katara nodded. “This is my cell,” Suki said, with a nod to a door up ahead.

“Great. So here’s the plan.” Katara opened the door and shoved Suki roughly inside, pulling the door shut behind them. “We’ll stay in here until the changing of the guard. Then, we’ll sneak out and make it to the contact spot, Aang will pick us up, and we’ll head for the Fire Nation Palace to get the others.”

“What about the captain?” Zuko asked, shooting a distrustful glance at the metal door. “He was going to send someone to, er, discipline Suki, right?”

Suki tilted her head at Zuko, clearly not recognizing him. “I’m sorry, who are you again?”

“I’m Zuko,” He said with an awkward smile, and Katara nearly laughed, he was so socially awkward. It would have been cute, if it had been anyone else, but for him, she was just distrustful.

“The one who burned down my village?” Suki narrowed her eyes at Zuko, and he shrank backwards slightly, his smile disappearing.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Hmm.” Suki stared at Zuko a moment longer, then turned to Katara and stepped forward, wrapping the Waterbender in a hug. “It’s so good to see you, Katara.”

“Good to see you too, Suki.”

Katara pulled back, and focused on the mission at hand. “Alright. So, we have a few more minutes to wait, the signal spot isn’t far from here.”

The three lapsed into silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Until, that is, footsteps stopped outside the cell, and slowly, the door began to screech open.

Chapter Text

Momo hadn’t moved. 

Aang could feel his heartbeat, feel his breath, see his little chest moving up and down, but the lemur hadn’t moved. Well, at least, not on his own. Aang had held a piece of fruit in front of him, hoping to entice him back to his senses with the smell of food. It had worked, in a way. He had reached out, taken the fruit, and began to eat it, slowly, mechanically, with none of the vigor he usually had while eating. 

He wasn’t himself. At all. And Aang didn’t know how to fix it. 

He had tried entering the meditative state to give the light back to Momo, but couldn’t concentrate for long enough to see the lines. Each time he tried, the reality of what he had done came flooding back, drowning him in shame and guilt. The monk’s had taught him that all life was sacred, and he had just experimented on a life without knowing the side effects, and without knowledge or skill with his new bending.

Aang had gone against everything the monk’s had taught, and even worse, he had ended up hurting Momo because of it. Momo wasn’t dead, but he wasn’t fully alive , either. He was caught somewhere in between, stuck between life and death, and Aang was the one who had put him there. 

“Come on , Aang, focus!” He berated himself for the millionth time. He was sitting cross-legged in front of Momo, who was curled in a ball on the dirt. “You’re the Avatar! You need to get it together!” 

He sniffled, pushing back tears yet again. He couldn’t believe he had used his newfound power to harm Momo. It went against everything he stood for. 

“Please…” He settled into a meditative position and tried to clear his mind, but it was impossible, with all the thoughts whirling around in his head. He couldn’t do this alone. He wished Katara was there. Surely she would know what to do. Somehow, she always did. 

***

Katara had no idea what to do. 

Time seemed to slow down around her, and she watched, frozen, as the door slowly inched forward. She knew she had to do something to salvage the situation, but had no idea what. 

Then, she felt a tug on her arm. “Block me!” Zuko hissed, and she barely had enough time to respond before Zuko was aiming a punch toward her face. Leaping backward, she began to move into a Waterbending technique, only to remember that she didn’t have any water, and if she did Waterbend, she would immediately blow her cover. 

Quickly dropping the stance, she threw a punch in return, her form sloppy and absolutely terrible. Still, Zuko dodged, then grabbed her arm and pulled her off balance, darting past her in an apparent attempt to get at Suki. 

“Hey!” A man stepped through the door, already launching a burst of fire at Zuko. Katara’s eyes widened. Firebending in these close quarters was dangerous, and the collateral damage could be disastrous. 

Apparently, Zuko had the same thought, because he first dissipated the fire with a move of his own, then leapt at the man, knocking him backward, through the door and out into the hallway. 

“Help me!” The man shouted, and it took Katara a moment to realize he was talking to her . Zuko rolled to his feet, swinging a kick at the man’s head. The man blocked the kick, and Katara slipped out the door to Zuko’s other side. 

He made a show of sending a plume of fire towards her face, easily dodgeable, which she was grateful for, because in such close quarters, she would be hard pressed to block the fire, at least without her bending. 

Katara pulled her guard’s club from her belt and swept it low at Zuko’s knees as he was distracted by the man. Zuko went down, hard, grunting as he slammed into the metal floor. In no time at all, the man had Zuko’s hands pinned behind his back, and the fight was over as quickly as it had begun. 

“Help me get this imposter to the freezer.” The man said, hooking a pair of handcuffs around Zuko’s wrists and pulling it tight enough that he grunted in pain. 

Katara shot a quick glance at Suki, then rushed to help the man pull Zuko to his feet. 

They were in for it now, and Katara could only hope they’d all make it out alive.

***

Sokka didn’t understand. The words coming out of Azula’s mouth didn’t make sense. 

“She was quite pretty. Kind, too.”

It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t . They weren’t the same person. Another Kya, maybe from the Northern Water Tribe. It would be an easy mistake to make, wouldn’t it? 

“I can’t explain it, but there was something so open about her. Don’t you remember?”

The world blurred before his eyes, every memory of his mother crowding his brain for the spotlight. She had died that day, in the Fire Nation raid. Hadn’t she? She had been taken hostage, but they had found her necklace, washed up on the shore. The Fire Nation had killed her and tossed her body overboard, hadn’t they? 

“It was strange, having someone be so compassionate to their murderer.”

Sokka’s attention snapped back to the present. “You… You’re the one who…” 

Azula nodded patronizingly, like she was talking to a three year old instead of a warrior. Though he never really had been a warrior, had he?

“You… You…” 

Azula rolled her eyes at his stumbling. “Yes, I’m the one who killed her. Do keep up, will you?” 

“That’s not possible!” He was on his feet not, barely remembering standing up. “She… She…”

“She was captured. Basic Fire Nation procedure, bringing high-importance prisoners to the capital for information. Your mother was a special case, though, at the end.”

“You’re lying!” Sokka clenched his hands into fists, fully ready to leap at the princess and beat her to within an inch of her life. “You’re a liar!” 

Azula nodded lazily. “Well of course I’m a liar, but I’m not lying right now .”

Sokka couldn’t breathe. All those years, thinking she had died in Southern Water Tribe waters, and now everything he thought was wrong? It couldn’t be. Because if it was, that meant she had been alive for long enough to be rescued. And if she had been alive long enough to be rescued, that meant she hadn’t been. 

“Why?” He whispered, tears collecting in the corners of his eyes. All his warrior’s pride, gone in an instant. 

Azula sneered at him, her eyes cold. “Why? Why not ?”

It could have been a lot of things. It could have been the way she talked about his mother’s death so casually, so flippantly . It could have been the stress and pressure of the last week weighing on him. It could have been that he just wasn’t as strong as he thought he was. 

Whatever the reason, Sokka snapped. Launching himself at Azula, he knocked her to the ground, and before he knew what he was doing, his hands were around her neck, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing . 

Her eyes widened almost comically, like she hadn’t expected him to do anything but sit there and take it. Then, her gaze turned hard, and she gripped Sokka’s arms tightly, her hands beginning to burn. 

Sokka couldn’t feel the pain. He couldn’t feel anything except for cold fury. She had killed his mother, so he would kill her. It was as simple as that. Azula’s eyes widened as she began to run out of air, and Sokka squeezed harder, crushing her windpipe, ignoring the smell of burning flesh. 

Azula gasped for breath, her mouth flapping open and closed pointlessly. She struggled, but her strength was slipping away fast. 

Sokka leered down at her, his face a twisted mockery of the kind boy he once had been. “Why not ?” He hissed as Azula’s hands fell away from his arm. “You wanted to know why not ? Well now you know.” 

“Pl– Please.” Azula choked out, and suddenly Sokka was struck by how young she actually was, when she wasn’t acting like an evil overlord. She might even have been younger than Katara.

Katara .

Suddenly, instead of Azula beneath his hands, it was Katara, tears streaming from her wide blue eyes. She stared up at him, and her face, usually so open and trusting, was filled with a look of betrayal that cut Sokka to the very core. 

Shame filled him, pushing away all the rage and anger and leaving only a confusing whirlwind of emotions, twisting and turning so that Sokka couldn’t begin to name them. He released her, and fell backward, his hands beginning to tremble violently. 

Katara’s face disappeared, and there was Azula, gasping on the ground, her expression panicked as she struggled to breathe. She scrambled backward, pressing herself against the wall of the cell, her chest heaving with desperate coughs. 

Sokka couldn’t do anything but stare at her, the thought of what he had almost done clawing at his insides, filling his head with a whispered refrain of monster, monster, monster…

Silence fell as Azula recovered. Sokka watched with dull horror as purple fingerprints began to form around Azula’s neck, a perfect match to his hands. He felt sick. 

Azula’s face, usually so closed off, was open, and he watched as anger, disbelief, and – was that fear ? – crossed her features, marching plainly for all the world to see. Then, she collected herself, and it was like shutters had been slammed over her face, leaving no crack in the defenses. 

“Well,” She said, her voice rough and cracked. “That wasn’t very kind of you.”

Sokka couldn’t bring himself to say anything. There was nothing to say. 

Except sorry . The small voice in his head whispered. He ignored it. 

“I think I shall be going now.” Azula rose, just as gracefully as always, the purple ring around her neck the only remains of the violent scene. 

She left, and Sokka wondered how it could be over that quickly. 

It’s not, though, is it? The voice whispered. It can never be over, now that you know what you are. What you’re capable of.

The pain hit him all at once. He gasped, curling into a ball, his arms suddenly burning with an intensity that brought tears to his eyes. Shuddering, he carefully raised his arms. 

Twin handprints were burned into his skin, the flesh red and swollen. 

Isn’t it what you deserve? 

Somehow, he knew that they would never go away. They might fade, but he would always carry the mark of what he had almost done. A reminder of the monster he truly was. 

Mother would be so disappointed. 

Mother. Sokka took a moment to survey his cell in a new light. This was her final image. This was where she drew her final breath. This was… 

Mother would be so disappointed.

Sokka curled into a ball, ignoring the fresh waves of pain. He almost wished he could feel her presence in each cold cobblestone, each metal bar. But he couldn’t. There was nothing. She was gone. 

Mother would be so disappointed.

***

It was standard procedure, Zuko guessed, to put Firebenders in the cooler. It did make sense. Firebenders were more susceptible to cold than others, and if they got too cold, their inner fire would dim. The cooler wouldn’t get cold enough to kill him – at least, he hoped it wouldn’t – but it would get cold enough to render his bending useless. 

Well, probably not his . Using the breath technique Uncle had taught him, he kept his inner fire bright and hot. Honestly, it was almost too easy. 

He had been recognized the second they had ripped his helmet off his head, and put in the cooler immediately after. They hadn’t thought to check Katara, though, so at least one of them was still undercover.

The cold prickled at his mostly-healed wound, but it wasn’t too bad, just enough to remind him that he still wasn’t completely healed. 

He stayed in the cooler for what felt like days, but was probably only hours, before the door slid open. Zuko looked up, making a show of shivering, to see the Warden glowering down at him. 

“Well, Prince Zuko,” He said, putting emphasis on the word 'prince’. “How kind of you to grace us with your presence” 

Zuko glared right back. 

The Warden gestured, and two guards grabbed his arms and dragged him to his feet. “Of course,” The Warden said, beginning to walk down the corridor, the guards dragging Zuko after. “I have some questions for you. Starting with, naturally, why you are here in the first place.”

Zuko didn’t answer. 

“Don’t rely on your title.” The Warden warned him, turning down another corridor that led them deeper into the prison. “It won’t help you.”

He stopped in front of a single cell door and dragged it open. The guards tossed Zuko unceremoniously inside, and he landed in a heap on the cold stone floor. 

“I’ll send someone along shortly,” The Warden said with a wicked grin. For the first time, Zuko felt a pang of unease. What if it was something he couldn't handle? Torture? Starvation? What were they going to do to him?

He waited impatient for the Warden’s return, pacing the small length of the cell to use the nervous energy that kept building. The cell was small and bare, with no features of interest, just an empty room with a heavy metal door. 

Finally, roughly a half hour later, the door slid open, and the Warden stepped into the room, dragging Suki behind him, her hands bound behind her back. Zuko’s heart sank. 

“Well, well, well,” The Warden said with a cruel smirk, pushing Suki into the room. “I thought it might be helpful to have a little… persuasion for you to tell the truth.”

Zuko’s glare deepened. “Don’t hurt her. She has no part in this.”

The Warden raised an eyebrow. “No? Then why were you trying to rescue her?” 

“I…” Zuko’s mind whirled, trying to come up with a believable lie. “It’s not important.”

“I think it is.” The Warden clapped twice, and a burly guard entered the room, closing the door behind him with a loud clang. The guard held a knife, long and serrated, with a scored middle for blood to run down. Zuko’s heart jolted in his chest, his brain screaming at him to attack, do something , but Suki was tied up, he didn’t favor his chances to get them both out alive. 

“Now,” The Warden continued. “Are you going to cooperate, or are we going to have to hurt your little friend?”

Zuko met Suki’s gaze. The Kyoshi warrior stood straight and tall, despite her bound hands, and her eyes were filled with cool determination. For a brief moment, Zuko thought about leaving Suki and running. He might be able to make it if… Guilt instantly pushed away the thoughts. What was he thinking? Of course he couldn’t leave her behind.
He took a deep breath, hoping his voice would hold steady. “I was going to rescue her, yes, but only because I need her help.”

“Oh?” The Warden gestured for him to continue. 

“Yeah. I need her to…” He paused, frantically trying to think of a good story. “I need her to help me infiltrate the Earth Kingdom.” 

The Warden’s eyebrows crawled even higher on his forehead, dangerously close to jumping off his face entirely. “And why do you need to infiltrate the Earth Kingdom?”

“To find the Avatar,” Zuko said, and at least he could muster a bit of sincerity at that part. “I heard he was in Ba Sing Se, and I need Suki’s help to get into city limits.”

“I see.” The Warden tapped a finger to his chin thoughtfully, mulling over the fake story. “And why her specifically? I mean, why go into such trouble to rescue her from the most secure prison in the Fire Nation, when you could find a hundred other mercenaries far more easily?”

Zuko’s heart pounded. He had never been a good liar, and now both his and Suki’s safety depended on his ability to sell the lie. “Because she’s the best,” He said, as casually as he could manage. “And I need the best.”

“Doesn’t quite seem worth it, does it?” 

Zuko shrugged. “Well, hindsight is always clearer, as my Uncle always says.”

“I see.” 

For a moment, Zuko thought he had bought it. Then, the Warden’s face split into a vicious grin. “Well,” He said with an almost maniacal glee. “I don’t believe you. And you know what happens when I don’t believe you.” He snapped his fingers, and the burly guard stepped forward, raising the knife to Suki’s upper arm.

Suki shot him an almost panicked glance, and Zuko barely restrained himself from lunging forward. 

“Wait!” He shouted, but the guard didn’t stop. The knife dug into Suki’s arm, sharp teeth tearing through the skin. Bright red bubbled up around the knife. Suki screamed. 

“Please!” Zuko tried again, his voice pleading. 

The Warden grinned. “You brought this upon yourself, Prince Zuko.”

Tearing the blade from Suki’s arm with a nauseating spray of blood, the guard raised the knife to another part of Suki’s arm, and Zuko knew he had to do something. Launching himself forward, he tackled the guard, sending the guard stumbling backward. Zuko fell into a crouch, sweeping the guard’s feet out from under him. 

The guard fell hard, and Zuko leapt to his feet, aiming a kick at the guard’s face. He didn’t hold back, feeling the satisfying crunch beneath his foot. He had hurt Suki, and Zuko didn’t feel any sympathy for the man. 

“Zuko!” Suki yelled from behind him, and he whirled with just enough time to block the burst of fire inches away from his head. The Warden laughed, firing a volley of fireballs. Zuko leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding running into Suki. The second he passed her, he realized his mistake. 

Suki’s hands were still tied, and if the Warden fired at him in such a small space, Suki would almost certainly be hit in the cross-fire. It was too late, though. The Warden threw another handful of fire at Zuko, and Suki was caught directly between him and the fire. 

Zuko’s eyes widened. He acted without thinking, pushing Suki out of the way and raising his arms to dissipate the fire. It broke apart harmlessly, and Zuko breathed a sigh of relief. Suki was safe, he was safe, everything was fine. 

Well, until the guard slammed into him from the other side. Zuko fell hard, the back of his head smashing onto the stone floor. 

A sudden burst of pain shot through his head, and the world turned fuzzy. I hope Katara gets Suki out, he thought, and it all went dark.

Chapter Text

Aang took a deep breath and refocused, pushing all thoughts out of his head and instead focusing on the wind blowing past him. He tried to clear the doubts that still remained, but they refused to be dislodged, instead digging their sharp claws further into his mind. 

What if Momo would never return to normal? What if whatever he had done couldn’t be reversed? What if…

Aang shook his head. 

Wind. 

Air.

Focus . 

He opened his eyes. The golden lines were now an almost familiar sight, though they still stole his breath with their beauty. It was hard to see how something so beautiful could have done so much damage, but Momo was still lying there, unmoving, his eyes wide and glassy, and no matter how stunning the golden lines were, they were dangerous. 

He concentrated, reaching for the threads of light that he knew must be inside him somewhere. What had Avatar Min said? He needed to find the energy that he had taken from Momo inside himself? But how?

Breathe in, breathe out. 

Focus. 

After another five minutes of breathing, Aang began to feel something, deep inside him. He opened his eyes and looked down at himself, astonished to find the golden threads weaving around his own body.

But how to find the energy that belonged to Momo? 

He concentrated, pushing one hand out and watching the lines respond, trailing slowly from the rest of his body into his arm.

Cupping his hand, the light gathered in his palm, a tiny oasis of warmth and light. 

Slowly, Aang stretched out his other hand, directing it toward Momo. The light hesitated at his fingertips, as if it didn't want to leave him. Aang pushed, and the energy began to trickle from his hands through the air, hovering over Momo's tiny body.

Gesturing with his other hand for the energy to descend, the lines began to thread themselves into Momo, trailing along his wings, his arms, his head, until the light was everywhere. 

Aang took a deep breath and lowered his hands, severing the connection to the energy, then broke out of his meditation stance.

The first thing he noticed was how tired he felt. In fact, he felt awful . It was like he had ripped out a piece of his health and given it to Momo, and all it left behind was a cold, empty feeling. 

But, the second thing he noticed more than made up for it. 

Momo chirped and raised his head, blinking curiously up at Aang. The familiar light in his eye was back, the sparkle of curiosity, playfulness, of life . 

"Momo!" Aang cried, scooping the flying lemur into a hug. "Oh, I'm so glad you're alright!" 

Momo chirped again, escaping from the tight embrace to flop on top of his head. 

"I was really worried," Aang continued. "I thought I had..." He trailed off, familiar shame beginning to replace the elation at Momo’s recovery. 

He hung his head. “I’m sorry.” A thought struck him, and he lifted his head, determination beginning to replace his shame. “Momo,” He said, reaching up to pull the lemur off his head. “I will never Energybend again. This I swear, by all I believe in. I will never, ever Energybend again.”

***

Pacing was not helping Katara’s nerves. Somewhere, Suki and Zuko were facing who knows what, and she was stuck here, in the guard’s common area, unable to do anything to help. After she helped drag Zuko away to the cooler, she had been dismissed, and could think of no excuse to stay with Suki. 

Now, she had no idea where Suki or Zuko were, and the guilt was weighing on her. If she had just thought of a better plan, none of this had to have happened. She, Suki, and Zuko would already be at the signal spot, Aang would have picked them up, and it would all have turned out just fine. Instead, because of her harebrained plan, Zuko’s cover was blown, Suki was in trouble, and they were just as far away from Sokka and Toph as before. 

This was all her fault. 

And she didn’t, most definitely did not , want to think about Zuko. Zuko, who had salvaged her botched plan by giving up his own cover to save hers. Zuko, who had taken most – not all, at least she could still cling onto that fact – of the insults and pointed jabs she had sent his way. Zuko, who was trying painfully hard to be better. 

It was getting harder and harder to see him as only ‘ the enemy’ . Now, she saw him as ‘the former enemy, who is ridiculously bad with words, awkward and clumsy, and… And who is trying to become someone new’ . He was no longer the face she pictured when she thought of the enemy. 

It surprised her, honestly, but it wasn’t entirely a bad feeling. Now, instead of anger, she felt only guilty. And why shouldn’t she? When she thought back at how she had treated him, she was filled with shame. No, she had no reason to trust him, she wouldn’t have done that differently, but she didn’t need to treat him as badly as she had. 

If she was being truthful, she had wanted to hurt him. She had wanted to hurt him just as badly as he had hurt her. She had wanted him to feel hopeless, worthless, pathetic. The list went on and on. 

Katara whirled to pace in the other direction. She had been just as bad as he was, maybe even worse. How could she keep hurting Zuko when he kept trying to make it up to her? Sure, he had lost his temper back in the temple, but so had she. 

Of course, none of this would matter if she couldn’t get them all out of the Boiling Rock alive, so she pushed the thoughts out of her head. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

Katara nearly jumped out of her skin, whirling to face a young female guard, maybe a little older than her. “What?”

The guard gave her a sympathetic smile. “You’re new here, right?” 

Katara nodded, her heart thundering in her ears. “Yeah, just transferred.” 

“I’m Lin,” The guard – Lin – said, sticking out her hand to shake. She was pretty, with long dark hair tied up in an intricate braid, and warm hazel eyes.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Ka – Kara.” 

“You seem really nervous. Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” Katara said, managing a smile. “Yeah, everything’s fine. It’s just a little overwhelming.” This was wrong. This was all wrong. She hated the Fire Nation. She hated the soldiers, the monarchy, the citizens. She hated everything about the Fire Nation. But it was really hard to hate everyone when people like Lin were determined to be so nice . 

“I get it,” Lin said with a cheerful smile. “It can be hard to get used to things here. The General and Warden are pretty strict, but stay out of their way and you’ll do just fine.” 

“Okay.” Katara was slowly coming to the realization that she couldn’t hate the entirety of the Fire Nation. After all, Lin was just doing her job, just like the rest of the army. 

“Hey, do you want to come sit with us?” Lin asked. 

Katara managed a smile. “No thanks. I’m worried about my friend. He just transferred here too, and was assigned to that troublemaker.” 

Lin gave her an understanding nod. “You mean the Kyoshi warrior? Yeah, I heard she got in trouble with the General again.”

Katara saw an opportunity and seized it, hope beginning to bloom once again. “Hey, do you know where they put her? I want to bring my friend some food, he hasn’t eaten yet.” 

Lin hesitated. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you that.” 

“Please?” Katara pressed. 

Lin sighed. “Well, alright, I suppose. Be quick, okay?”

Katara nodded. “Of course I will.” 

***

Katara stopped outside the cell door, tray of food in hand. There were two guards stationed outside the cell, silent and somber. This time, she had taken time to think through her plan, running it through in her head over and over until she was sure everything would go smoothly. 

Dusk had fallen around her, and lanterns had been hung around the prison, illuminating the hallways. It was close to a full moon, but Katara had promised herself that no matter what happened, she would not bloodbend. The full moon was in two days, but she was confident she was strong enough. 

“Hey,” She said to the two guards. “I have dinner for the prisoner.” 

The first guard, a tall man with an absolutely awful moustache, gave her a cynical look. “The Warden ordered that the prisoner be given no food.” 

Katara widened her eyes, probably wider than necessary. She might not have been the best actress, but hopefully she was good enough to pull this off. “Really? Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m new here, and must not have heard.” She looked down at the tray of food in her hand. “What do you want me to do with this, then?” 

“Just bring it back to the kitchen,” The second guard said, rather wistfully. He was a portly man who clearly hadn’t stopped growing from side to side, and just as clearly wanted the food.

Katara looked from the food to the guards, and back again. “Are you sure? It seems a waste. Maybe you want to eat it?” 

The first guard shook his head. “No, we’re on duty. Take it back.”

“But Yeza ,” The second guard said, shooting the first guard a pleading look. “What if I ate it? I mean, this lovely guard…” He turned to Katara, smiling kindly. “What’s your name?” 

“Kara,” Katara said, feeling just a little bit bad about her plan. 

“Kara!” The second guard turned back to the first. “See! Kara over here kindly brought this food, we might as well put it to use.”

Yeza rolled his eyes, huffing out a little sigh. “ No , Lee.” 

Lee winked at Katara. “Oh, come now, it’s just food.” He reached out and took the tray from Katara, smiling wide. “Thanks, Kara, I’ll quite enjoy this.” 

Katara nodded. “Yeah, of course.” Pushing down her slight guilt, Katara jerked her hands backward, and the cup filled with water tipped over, the water sloshing over the sides of the tray and onto Lee’s hands. Katara stepped forward, raising her hands as if to help, only to freeze the water, trapping his hands in the ice. 

“Hey!” Lee said, attempting and failing to pull his hands free.

Yeza stepped forward. “What’s going on?” 

“I–” Lee began, but never got the chance to finish. Katara stepped forward, and in one smooth motion, bent water out of the soup bowl and towards Yezu, the soup crystalizing and freezing his hand to the wall behind him.

"Hey!" Yezu yelled, his voice echoing down the corridor. "Guards! Backup! Help! There's a–"

Katara smashed the butt of her sword into his forehead, knocking him out cold. 

Lee stared at her in shock, then shook himself and seemed to realize that, yes, this was actually happening. Katara brought her arms to the side, gently guiding the remaining water on the tray to hover in front of her. 

Lee wouldn't be a problem, with his hands stuck to the tray, and all she needed to do was keep him quiet. 

Unfortunately, she had underestimated him. Before she could freeze ice over his mouth, Lee leapt forward, bringing the tray swinging toward her head like a kind of mace. Katara ducked just in time, the heavy metal tray passing just over her head. Lee didn't stop there, snapping his leg out in a kick that connected with her chest and sent her flying backward.

Katara grunted, rolling to her feet and dodging backwards to avoid the second kick. She was nearly out of water, the only water the frozen ice on the tray and Lee’s hands. She didn’t really have many other options, she’d have to free his hands to use the water, and hope that she could beat him quickly and quietly. 

Motioning with her arms, Katara beckoned to the water, and it responded, melting and flowing toward her. She danced backward, giving more ground as she dodged Lee’s quick attacks.

All her frustrations, with herself, with Zuko, even with Aang , came pouring to the surface, and she formed the water into a whip, snapping it towards Lee with a sharp crack . Lee leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack. 

Katara scowled. Why wouldn’t he just. Go. Down .

She whipped the water around, wrapping it around his ankle and yanking viciously, Lee landing heavily with a grunt and nasty crunch as his head hit the ground. Katara pushed down the surge of guilt, bending over his unconscious body and pulling the cell key from his belt. 

Fitting the key into the lock, Katara slid the heavy door open.

It was time to fix what she had broken. 

Chapter Text

He was trapped in the darkness. Somehow, the walls seemed to loom over him, even while pressing in, shrinking the space. He tried to scream, shout out for someone, anyone, to come save him, but once again, the blank void stole his voice and crushed it beneath its heel.

He tried not to panic, but it was hard, when it was darker than night, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness that permeated his being.

“Zuko…” A voice echoed around the room, fading slowly. It was a thousand voices as one, blending together, and he couldn’t quite distinguish any individual voice. It was warm and kind, but also sharp and harsh. “What are you prepared to do?”

The words faded, and a bright flash of light lit up the inside of the dark room for just a second. In the sudden clarity, Zuko could see a door, one that he was sure hadn’t been there before. It was a plain, simple door, with no markings, only smooth wood. It hovered in the darkness, the only feature in the otherwise blank room.

The light disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, but Zuko had a way out. He stumbled forward through the darkness, his fear settling as hope pushed it aside. He knew there was a way out, now, and so he would never be trapped again.

Reaching through the darkness, he fumbled for the doorknob, his hands finding the edge of the door. He found the doorknob and turned it, more than ready to be out of the strange room and into the light.

The knob slid smoothly, and the door swung open, revealing a bright light outside. Zuko stepped out of the darkness, and into the light.

***

There was a time in her life when Azula had loved mirrors. She had preened in front of them for hours, tucking each strand of hair into place. She had smirked slyly every time she passed one by, because she knew, without a doubt, that she was exactly who she wanted, and needed, to be. A powerful conqueror, destined for great things. A prodigy bender, better even than most “Masters”.

She was secure, and life was simple.

Well, things weren’t simple anymore. They hadn’t been ever since the Avatar was found. Then Zuko had his little “Journey of growth” – which was all hogwash, if you asked her – she had started seeing her mother, and insidious doubts had begun to creep into her confidence, burrowing their way into her mind like…

No. She was just being dramatic. No doubts. Doubts were weakness, and weakness was not allowed.

Slowly, painstakingly, she forced herself to stare into the mirror. She almost didn’t recognize the face staring back at her. Dark shadows ringed underneath her eyes, evidence of the many nights she spent tossing and turning, unable to turn off her racing thoughts. Her hair, usually so perfectly tidy and neat, was a mess, frizzy and unkempt.

Azula clenched her hands into fists, her lips curling into a scowl. This was not acceptable. This was not acceptable. She was not weak. The opposite, in fact. Zuko was gone, she had proven his patheticness once and for all. She was heir to the throne, the Fire Lord’s confidant, the one who brought pain and destruction wherever she went.

She had everything she’d ever asked for.

So why, then, was she so empty?

Growling in frustration, Azula spun, turning her back on the mirror. It was just a liar, anyway. There was no way she looked as deranged as the mirror said. No, it was impossible. Like always, she was the perfect picture of control. Always knowing exactly what to say, what buttons to push, which pressure point to tap.

The silence of her chambers was grating, and Azula made a split second decision, turning and pushing out of the doors to her chambers.

“You!” She nearly shouted, pointing at a passing servant. It was nearing lunch, and the palace was alive with servants preparing for the noontime meal. “Bring me Mai and Ty Lee. I wish to spar with them. Send them to the courtyard.”

The servant, a young boy who couldn't have been older than eight, nodded vigorously, rushing off to do her bidding. He was obviously terrified, and Azula basked in his fear, soaking up its warmth like sunshine.

It was a nice reminder of her power, and Azula found herself standing a little taller. She waited in the courtyard, lounging in the early afternoon sun, turning her face upward. Soon enough, Mai and Ty Lee appeared, and she stood, smirking.

“Hello,” She drawled. “I’m bored. Entertain me.”

Mai folded her arms across her chest, her perpetual glower seeming deeper than usual. “Azula, this is ridiculous.”

Azula arched an eyebrow. “Oh? And what, exactly, is ridiculous?”

“Your games. You’re going too far, Azula. You’re losing yourself.”

“Listen,” Ty Lee cut in, her bubbly voice full of concern. “Azula, you’ve always been… controlling… but recently it’s been getting worse. You need to stop and figure out what really matters to you.”

“What really matters?” Azula repeated dumbly, her mind awhirl. This was something she had never imagined. Mai and Ty Lee… what? Questioning her?

How dare they? Did they know how much she did for them? How could they dare to question her?

“What are you trying to say?” She said, keeping her voice steady and even. “Because it sounds to me a little bit like treason. And, well, you know the punishment for treason.”

“Azula,” Ty Lee said, giving her such a compassionate look Azula wanted to gag. “We’re your friends. Or, we want to be, if you’ll just let us.”

Mai rolled her eyes. “Without all the touchy-feely stuff, yes. We want to help.”

“Help?” Azula said, her voice higher and squeakier than she would have liked. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Help? I’m afraid I don’t need any help. I have everything completely under control.”

Mai and Ty Lee both hesitated, and the three settled into an awkward silence. Tension hung thick in the air, and Azula couldn’t help feeling like something had changed. What, she wasn’t sure, but somehow she knew her hold on Mai and Ty Lee wasn’t as strong as before.

This couldn’t be happening. She was in control. In control of her two lackeys, of their loyalty, of their actions, of their beliefs. She was in control.

After all, if she didn’t have control, what did she have?

“You are dismissed,” She said, forcing the questions and doubts down, back into the darkness of that back of her mind. No doubts. No questions.

Only control.

***

When Zuko next opened his eyes, he was unsurprised to find his hands and feet bound with metal handcuffs to a metal chair. He had attempted to fight the Warden and his guard, after all.

His head was rather sore, and when he shook it to clear the fuzzy darkness at the edge of his vision, bright pain flashed through his head.

There was nothing else in the cell, and the only light filtered in through the small window in the cell door. He nearly sighed. Suki was somewhere, hurt, and they were no closer to escaping the prison, further away, even. He had no idea where Katara was, or if she was still undiscovered.

The odds seemed stacked against them, and, at this point, it would take a miracle for all of them to make it out alive.

From the other side of the door, he heard the grinding of a key in the lock. He tensed, prepared for anything the Warden could throw at him.

The door slid open, and Zuko’s breath caught.

It was Katara, only it wasn’t. There was something wrong. It was like all the color had drained from her face, leaving a pale shell behind. Her normally vibrant eyes had dulled, the bright blue fading to an almost gray color. Her hair looked dull, gray. Everything was gray, everything was wrong.

“Zuko?” She said, her voice just the same as it always was. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

He pushed the wrongness of the situation aside, focusing on the Waterbender in front of him. “Suki!” He said, the thought hitting him all at once. “We need to find Suki!”

“Relax.” Gray-Katara pulled the key out of the cell door and walked toward Zuko, fiddling with the keys to find the one that would unlock the handcuffs. “I found her first, she’s just down the corridor keeping watch.”

“Oh.”

“Thanks for asking, though,” She said, throwing him a quick glance that he couldn’t even begin to figure out.

“How’s her arm?” He asked as she bent down and fitted the key into the lock, twisting it and opening the handcuffs.

“Alright. Not great, but it’ll heal.”

“Oh.” Zuko winced at his eloquent words as he pulled his hands from the loose cuffs and rubbed his wrists. “That’s… Good.” There was a reason he had practiced his speech on the frog.

Katara moved on to the cuffs around his ankle. “The guards change in five minutes.” The cuffs popped free, and Zuko stood up, only a little unsteady. His head spun, and for a second he thought he would fall over, but managed to right himself.

“Okay, I’m good. Let’s go.”

Katara led him out the door and down the hall, where Suki was waiting, her arm covered with dried blood. Suki was pale and gray too, though the crust of blood on her arm stood out, bright red against her sickly-looking skin.

Odd, he mused as Katara led them both wordlessly down the corridor. Everything else is normal colored, except Katara and Suki.

It was true. The walls, Katara’s Fire Nation armor, Suki’s drab prison uniform, all of it was normal, colored as usual, except for Katara and Suki themselves. In fact, in contrast, the colors seemed even brighter than normal. It was like someone had come and drained all the life out of Katara and Suki, giving it instead to the inanimate objects around them.

For now, though, he had bigger problems than colors and life, though those were problems of their own, but first they had to make it out of the prison alive.

The halls were clear, for now, but their luck wouldn’t last forever. They turned a corner, and sure enough, there were three guards, walking toward them.

“Hey!” One of the guards called. “That’s the prisoner! What are you doing?”

“Um.” Katara hesitated. “Taking the prisoners to interrogation?”

It didn’t work.

“Stop!” The first guard shouted, launching a stream of fire down the corridor. Katara dodged, pulling a water flask from her belt and flicking the top open. She bent a stream of water at the first guard, knocking him off his feet. Suki ran forward, engaging with the second guard, so Zuko ran for the third.

The scene quickly dissolved into chaos.

The third guard kicked at Zuko’s chest, fire exploding toward him, the heat intense. Zuko launched himself into a roll, springing to his feet right beside the guard. Ignoring the sharp pain in his head, he punched toward the guard, flames appearing before him.

All of the guards had that drained look, just like Katara and Suki. Was it because of the hit on his head? Or was it something else, something related to Darkbending? Even the flames he shot seemed duller than usual, paler and washed out.

He ducked. The guard had pulled his sword from his belt, and it made Zuko miss his own Dao swords. He swept his leg under the guard, knocking his feet out from under his, then caught his wrist, heating his palm until the guard dropped his sword.

Scooping up the sword, he smashed the pommel into the guard’s head, knocking him out cold. There.

He looked up to see how the others were doing, only to see one guard frozen to the wall, and the other face down on the floor. They were a very efficient team, he thought vaguely as Katara motioned for them to continue down the hallway. Once the guards were discovered, they would shut the prison down, and it would be that much harder for them to escape.

“Wait!” Katara hissed, throwing out an arm to stop him and Suki. “I hear something.”

Zuko didn’t hear anything, but he trusted Katara. He scrambled to the side of the hallway, pressing his back against the cold stone. Soon, the sounds of guard’s clanking armor echoed through the hallway, and Zuko sent a quick plea to Agni that they wouldn’t turn into their hallway.

“I can’t believe him!” A female voice, full of indignation, came from around the bend. “I mean, who does he think he is, completely ignoring me like that?”

A second guard snorted. “Right? And don’t get me started on his hygiene.”

The footsteps paused, and there was a lull in the conversation, before the first guard heaved a sigh. “I guess it’s time for my shift. See you later.”

Zuko’s heart was pounding so loudly in his ears, he was sure the guards would hear it, but instead, the footsteps passed by, continuing down the corridor. Heaving a sigh, Zuko relaxed. They were safe, for now.

“Let’s go,” Katara whisper-hissed, gesturing for them to follow her.

They made it to the watchtower without incident, and Zuko sent a flare of fire into the sky. Unfortunately, the flare was bright, and they wouldn’t have much time until other guards decided to investigate.

“What’s taking Aang so long?” Katara asked after five minutes of waiting. “He should be here by now.”

Zuko shrugged. Half the time he had no idea what went on in that boy’s head.

“We should be fine,” Suki said. “If no one came to investigate by now, they probably didn’t see the signal.”

Then, with absolutely perfect comedic timing, the sound of clinking armor drifted down the hall. Many, many guards, all headed for them.

Zuko would have laughed, if he weren’t actively fearing for his life. “Change of plans,” He said. “I guess we’re going to have to fight our way out.”

Chapter Text

Sokka was hungry, like usual, but he couldn’t quite seem to bring himself to care. He felt like a boat with its tether cut, drifting aimlessly in the currents.

And really, why shouldn’t he? He had so little left. His warrior’s pride? Gone. His belief that nothing could have been done to save his mother? Gone. His self confidence? Gone. All he really had left was Katara and his friends, and his Dad, wherever he was. Right now, he didn’t even have that.

He was completely and utterly alone.

Curling further into his self-contained ball of misery, Sokka rested his head on his knees. What was the point? Their rag-tag team was no match for the Fire Lord anyway, even with Zuko teaching Aang Firebending. They were only prolonging the inevitable.

There was the too familiar sound of metal locks being drawn aside from the other side of the cell door, but Sokka didn’t bother to get up. It was probably only his meal anyway.

“Oh, get up, you pathetic worm.”

Azula.

Sokka’s head shot up, his pulse racing. Had they decided to kill him and be done with it? Did they want more information about Aang? Did Azula simply want revenge?

Any of the options was viable, and Sokka could only hope that he would live to see his sister again.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

Sokka forced his tired legs to stand, shuffling his way to the other end of the cell. Azula looked him up and down, taking in the slumped, defeated posture and hopeless eyes. She smirked, and Sokka could see her delight clear as day. He looked away, dropping his gaze to the floor, and waited. Whatever she wanted, she would say it soon.

“Pathetic,” She crooned, her voice sickly sweet. “Oh, little warrior, so, so brave.”

“What do you want, Azula?” He asked quietly, resignedly.

The princess hummed, as if deciding. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does.”

“Well, in that case, I suppose I just want to watch you suffer.”

Sokka wasn’t ready. The kick came from nowhere, powerful and swift, and he crashed backward, the chains on his wrists and ankles clanking noisily against the stone.

Groaning, Sokka rolled his front, wrapping his arms around his stomach. He didn’t fight back. There was no point. He was no warrior, no brave hero. He was just a scared little boy. Pathetic.

"Fight!” Azula hissed, her words filled with acid. “Fight me!”

Sokka didn’t move, even when Azula’s fist came crashing down on his back, flames scorching his shirt. He didn’t move when she pounded his head, scraped at his face, or kicked him in the stomach.

Azula screamed, a wordless cry of anger.

Sokka didn’t move, even when the world started to go fuzzy and dark.

Sokka didn’t move, even when Azula’s screams faded, turning into what sounded suspiciously like sobs.

There was no point. He had given up.

***

They were losing. Katara fought with the fury of ten whirlwinds, and Suki, even with an injured arm, was taking guards down with ease. Zuko, careful of his Firebending in such a tight space, had added to the pile of bodies laying on the floor, but even with the carnage all around them, it wouldn’t be enough. There were simply too many guards. Eventually, he, Suki, and Katara would be overwhelmed, and taken back to the cells.

“Zuko!” Suki called, and he whirled, slashing his stolen sword across a guard’s stomach who had attempted to sneak up on him.

“Thanks,” He said through short breaths. He was tired. It had been a long week, and if he were being honest, he wasn’t sure how much further he could push himself.

Dodging out of the way of a guard’s club, Zuko watched Katara swipe to the side, summoning a wave of boiling water to wash a few guards out the window. They fell, screaming, and Zuko couldn't help but feel bad for them. Still, watching Katara in action was awe-inspiring.

Zuko had fought all kinds of benders. Fire, Earth, Water, and even Air, but Katara seemed to move in a way unique to her. She was a Waterbender, yes, but she moved like she understood the flow of the water, moving with the natural movement of the waves, but also forcing the water to her will.

It was amazing.

Zuko nearly died.

He ducked just in time, the guard’s sword passing an inch from his head. Right. Head in the game, or his head would end up detached from his body.

The guards, still drained of color, pressed toward Zuko, their swords glinting from the plumes of fire that Zuko sent their way. He needed to think. This clearly wasn’t working; they needed another strategy. But what?

Ducking under a blast of fire, Zuko fired back one of his own. To his left, Katara screamed. Zuko whirled, taking in the scene in a moment. Katara was slumped against the wall, a guard standing above her with one smoking fist raised.

Zuko didn’t think. He didn’t take a second to consider the consequences of his actions. He didn’t even take a second to realize that he didn’t know entirely what he was doing. He simply acted.

Throwing his hands forward, Zuko made twin fists and focused on the guard. Forcefully, brutally, he jerked his hands back toward him, calling to the faded gray. One second the guard was ready to kill Katara, the next he was on the floor, unseeing eyes staring up at the ceiling as he twitched and spasmed.

Zuko gritted his teeth, uncurling his fingers and calling, calling, calling.

The Gray responded. It surged toward him, rippling off the guard’s skin and cascading across the floor toward him, like some kind of sentient water. It flowed up Zuko’s leg, wrapping around him like a blanket, heavy and thick.

It felt good. He was powerful, more powerful than he ever could have dreamed. Maybe now he would be good enough. Maybe now he didn’t have to question every step, every decision, every single move he made.

His lips curled upward in a cruel smile as the last of the Gray fell away from the guard and joined the shroud of darkness around Zuko.

There. Now he wouldn’t be able to hurt Katara. Now he wouldn't be able to hurt anyone ever again.

Zuko lowered his hands. The room had quieted. All fighting had slowed, then stopped, and the air hung thick with fear.

Pushing aside the satisfaction, Zuko glanced toward the body, a kind of morbid fascination drawing his gaze. The guard’s skin beneath the Gray was… Oh Agni.

The skin, uncovered, was gone. Where the guard had been seconds before, there lay only a skeleton, frozen in a ghastly grin. No. Wait. That wasn’t all. Beneath the crumpled uniform were golden lines of light, dancing along the stark white bones. The light skittered along the bone, spiraling around and around as if desperate.

Zuko’s eyes widened. All his new-found confidence fled, the self-satisfaction chased away by dull horror. He tried to move, tried to do something other than just stand there, but he was frozen. He could do nothing. Do nothing but stare at the man who lay dead in front of him, his bones infested with some kind of light that Zuko couldn’t help but imagine as maggots, oozing out of the man’s empty eye sockets.

He shuddered, pushing the mental image away.

The lines of light grew brighter, slithering over the bones faster and faster, seeming almost frantic now, panicked. Zuko couldn’t help feeling like something extraordinarily bad was about to happen.

He was right. The golden light, so beautiful, pulsed with light, growing brighter and brighter and brighter, until Zuko had to squint to see anything.

Finally, he forced his feet to move. He grabbed Suki’s arm, too panicked to consider if it was her wounded arm or not, and dragged her towards Katara, pushing her to sit beside Katara. Suki complied, too busy staring at the mesmerizing sight to resist.

Somehow – he wasn’t quite sure how – Zuko knew that if he didn’t protect Suki and Katara, they would die. Heart pounding, he glanced out the window, hoping to see Appa swooping down to save them. No such luck. They were on their own.

The light was nearly blinding now, and Zuko flinched, hurriedly looking away. The Gray, still settled around him, shifted, and a hasty plan formed in his mind. He held out a hand, pushing the Gray away from him. Slowly, almost sluggishly, the Gray began to move, forming a thin shield around Suki and Katara.

The barrier was completed not a second too soon. The light exploded, and Zuko squeezed his eyes shut, throwing out his hands to cover Katara and Suki’s eyes as well. Even with his eyes closed, he could see the bright light pressing in on him, reaching out to him, calling to him the same way he called to the Gray.

Zuko crouched there, listening to the sound of his own harsh breaths, for what seemed like hours, until finally, finally, he dared to peel his eyes open and take in the scene around him.

He almost wished he hadn’t. All around him, the uniforms of Fire Nation guards lay on the ground, empty, save pure white bones.

At least twenty guards, all dead. All dead.

Oh Agni.

Zuko couldn’t tear his gaze away from the sight. It was fascinating, in a morbid sort of way, and though he was absolutely horrified, he also couldn’t exactly believe this was all real.

“Zuko?” Katara said from behind him, sounding a bit dazed. “What happened? Where’s Aang?”

Aang. Yes. Aang.

Zuko needed to get out of here. Tearing his gaze away from the bones of the Fire Nation soldiers, Zuko scrambled to his feet. Out the window, he saw a speck through the mist, coming closer and closer. Aang had finally arrived.

“What…” Suki said, staring at the bones surrounding them.

Appa pulled up close to the watchtower, and Zuko all but pushed Katara and Suki away from the bones.

“Is everyone okay?” Aang asked, helping them onto Appa’s back.

Neither Katara nor Suki said anything, and Zuko didn’t think the actual answer was the one Aang wanted, because no, no he wasn’t okay. He had just murdered twenty guards. More than that, he had reduced them to a pile of bones on the floor, melted all the skin and muscle off their bones. Was it painful? Did they suffer? Had he tortured them before they escaped to death?

“Zuko?” Aang said, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Come on, we need to go.”

“Of course.” Zuko pushed down his guilt, climbing out of the window and onto Appa’s back. He was more than ready to be out of this miserable prison, and more than ready to leave the carnage behind. “Let’s get out of here.”

***

Toph was bored. So, so bored. The Fire Nation guards had both taken her space bracelet and hung her up on the wall with all four limbs shackled like some kind of insect in a bug collection. It was not fun.

She wiggled her toes, swinging just the slightest bit. A little bit ago she had gotten so bored she had started to count the vibrations of the leaky pipe in the corner as the tiny water droplets hit the floor. So far, she was at two hundred eight thousand, four hundred twelve.

Oh. Wait. Two hundred eight thousand, four hundred thirteen.

There was another. Two hundred eight thousand, four hundred fourteen.

Toph was about to go insane.

Just as she was counting two hundred eight thousand, five hundred two, vibrations from the other side of the door stopped outside her cell.

Toph perked up. Anything would be a welcome change of pace at this point, even another interrogation. The cell door opened, and the familiar shapes of Mai and Ty Lee stood in the doorway. Well, this was bound to be fun.

“Hi!” Ty Lee said, as excited as ever. Toph would’ve rolled her eyes if she weren’t so grateful for a break in the monotony.

“So.” Mai, ever the opposite as Ty Lee, said in her signature monotone. “Do you want to get out of here, or what.”

Chapter Text

Katara sat down beside Zuko, awkwardly fiddling with the lid to her waterskin. She wasn’t exactly sure how to approach the conversation, but she knew that it was long overdue.

“Hey,” She said, risking a glance at his face. He was staring off into the horizon, though Katara got the feeling he wasn’t really watching the sunset. “Are you okay?”

Zuko startled, as if noticing she was there for the first time. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Right.” They lapsed into awkward silence. “Um, pretty sunset?” Katara offered with a half-hearted shrug. It was indeed a pretty sunset. Dark reds bounced off the clouds, fading to pale oranges and yellows.

“Yeah, very pretty.”

Katara sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy, was it? “Listen,” She began hesitantly. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I treated you horribly, and I’m really sorry.”

Zuko turned to look at her, eyes widening in surprise. “You don’t have to apologize,” He said when he had overcome his shock. “You were right. About everything. I don’t deserve friendship.”

Wincing, Katara recalled her nasty words when they had been trapped in the rockfall during Combustion Man’s attack. She had been angry, and said things that she regretted. “Zuko, I never should have said that. I was angry, and I wasn’t thinking. I… I say a lot of things I don’t mean, but I’m too stubborn to admit that I was wrong.”

“But you were right,” Zuko said, and apparently he was just as stubborn as she was. “I’ve done so many terrible things. I’ve hurt so many people.” He hunched forward, resting his chin on his hands. “I… I thought I could change, be something better, but you were right. I can’t change, no matter how much I try.”

Katara’s heart just about broke for the exiled prince. He sounded so sad that it was impossible not to want to help him. “I was wrong about that too,” She said. “You have changed. A lot. And you’re still changing, becoming something better. We’re all changing, me and Aang, Sokka and Toph, we’re all changing.”

Zuko met her gaze, and for the first time in the conversation, Katara could see a glimmer of hope in his eye.

“Do you really think I can become something better?”

Katara nodded. “I don’t think so, I know.”

“Thanks, Katara,” He said, smiling ever so slightly. He had a nice smile, Katara thought. It was gentle and kind, and she wondered how she hadn’t noticed it before.

She smiled back, and it felt like they had come to a silent agreement somehow. Then, Zuko’s face fell, and he looked away.

“I don’t know how much you remember of what happened back at the watchtower,” He said. “Did you… did you see?”

Katara hesitated. She had seen. She had seen death, had seen an entire room full of guards reduced to bones on the floor. She had seen the bright light that had called to her, whispering to her such beautiful things. She had seen the net of gray shadows that Zuko had somehow cast over the three of them, the net that kept the light away.

If she was being honest, she wasn’t sure how she was managing to function, after everything. Shouldn’t she be huddled in a ball, rocking back and forth and questioning everything she knew?

But life had to go on, even if the guard’s lives had ended. Yes, it was a tragedy, but otherwise they would still be trapped in the prison, far away from her brother and friend.

“Zuko,” She began carefully. “I don’t exactly know what happened back there, and I hope you can tell me, but we have to keep moving. Don’t let this tear you apart. We need you.”

And, more selfishly, I need you. Though, just to train Aang, so he could beat the Fire Lord, and the world would be saved. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Katara,” Zuko said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “Are you my friend?”

It was a serious question, and Katara hesitated. “Yes,” She finally said. “That is, if you want me to be. I said some really awful stuff, and I understand if you don’t want to have anything to do with me.”

“No,” He said, rather hastily. “I’d like that very much.”

“Well, alright then.” Katara held out her hand to shake. “Friends.”

“Friends,” Zuko agreed, taking her hand.

Katara's hand tingled where it touched Zuko’s. His hand was warm, that was the only reason. Not sweaty, just pleasantly warm, like a nice hug or cuddling under a blanket beside the fire. He smelled nice, too, like a mix between smoke and cinnamon.

Blushing, Katara realized that she was still holding onto Zuko’s hand. Hastily, she dropped his hand, chuckling nervously.

“Well, um, great,” She said, hoping her cheeks weren’t too red. “I better, uh, check with Aang. Good talk!”

She all but jumped to her feet, beating a hasty retreat and trying very hard to forget the feel of his hand in hers.

***

Toph cackled. Finally, a chance to have some fun!

It felt good to use her bending after so long being chained up, useless. She, Mai, and Ty Lee made quick work of the prison guards, and soon they were dragging Sokka out of his cell. Toph was slightly taken aback by his appearance, with his bruised face and bleeding nose, and assured herself that once she figured out who had used him as their training dummy, she would strike back with a vengeance.

They had slipped out of the prison, Mai and Ty Lee using their status to smuggle Toph and Sokka out. They had run into some trouble with the guards, which was where they currently were, and why Toph was having so much fun.

She spun, stomping one foot hard into the ground, and a pillar of rock shot out of the Earth, catching a guard right in the chest and sending him flying backward.

What fun!

“Let’s go,” Mai said, her voice sounding almost bored, despite the throwing knives she hurled around like confetti. “To the left.”

Toph grabbed Sokka’s wrist, dragging him behind her as she ducked into an alleyway to their left.

“In here!” Ty Lee said from behind them, gesturing to what appeared to be a warehouse door. Toph followed her inside, still dragging Sokka. A second later, Mai joined them, and Ty Lee slammed the door closed.

“This way!” She said with a cheery smile, like she hadn’t just committed treason.

Rolling her eyes, Toph followed Ty Lee further into the warehouse and through a secret tunnel, – Think of the robberies you could pull off! – finally emerging into the crowded back room of a shop.

“Okay,” Mai said. “So let’s get a few things straight. We’re not helping you out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“Yeah,” Ty Lee agreed. “My heart’s as dark as night.”

“We’re only helping you because the Fire Lord needs to be stopped,” Mai continued, ignoring Ty Lee, who was currently examining some knick-knack off one of the overcrowded shelves. “So we’re not asking to join your little team, or whatever. Let’s just get this done, as quickly as possible. Got it?”

Toph nodded. “Sure, yeah. Got it.”

Mai smiled, a sly little grin that held no happiness whatsoever. “Good. The Fire Lord won’t know what hit him.”

***

“Hi Katara,” Aang said, glancing over at her as she climbed out on top of Appa’s head. “Everything alright back there?”

She nodded, cheeks red. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I just wanted to come check in with you. We’re still on course?”

Aang nodded. “We should reach the Fire Nation capital city tomorrow sometime.”

“Okay.”

Aang shifted, uncomfortable. He knew he should tell Katara how he felt about her, but, well, it seemed far less of a priority than, say, saving the world.

His encounter with Energybending had changed him. It had given him a new perspective on time, and just how precariously life hung in balance. He couldn’t help feeling that if he didn’t take the leap now, he never would. So, gathering up all his courage, he cleared his throat and surreptitiously scooted closer to Katara.

“Sooooo…” He started awkwardly. “Pretty sunset, huh?”

“What? Oh, yeah, very pretty.”

“I like the…. Colors. And the sun.”

Smooth. Yeah, he was a natural.

“Hey, Katara,” He said, swallowing. “Say, once, this is all over, once we defeat the Fire Lord, would you….” He cleared his throat. “Would you want to… be my girlfriend?”

He cringed. That had sounded a whole lot more confident in his head. Still, the words were out in the open now, there was nothing he could do to take them back.

Risking a glance at Katara’s face, Aang couldn’t help but feel hopeful. Maybe she liked him back. Maybe it wasn’t as one sided as he had feared.

Her expression was confused, yes, but confused didn’t mean no.

“Aang,” She said. “I… I don’t know. I don’t think…” She shook her head. “I don’t think you and I were meant to be.”

“But we are!” Aang couldn’t give up. He loved Katara. Wasn’t love supposed to set you free? Wasn’t it supposed to be the greatest force in the universe? “Katara, I love you!” He reached for her hand, holding it tight, hoping that she would see. See how certain he was that they were meant to be together, that they were perfect for each other.

“Don’t.” Katara pulled her hand back, scooting away from him. “You can’t just tell me that and expect for me to instantly agree.”

“I can if it’s true love.” He knew he sounded desperate, but he just needed to make her see.

“Aang, listen. I do love you.”

All his hopes, dreams, and visions for the future surged forward, stronger than ever. She loved him. She loved him. Then, he took a look at her face, and his dreams crashed back to reality, folding in and collapsing around him.

“I love you, Aang, but not in the way you want me to.” Tentatively, Katara reached out, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You’re like a brother to me. I couldn't imagine my life if you hadn’t shown up. Please. I still want to be your friend. But I don’t… I don’t have any romantic interest in you.”

Aang was frozen. His heart had shattered, like the shards of an icicle, one tenderly carved by Katara’s own hand. He had thought, for so long, that she could love him. That they could be a romance fit for fairytales. That she would be the one he would spend the rest of his life with.

“Oh,” He said, numb. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Katara said, drawing her hand back. “I don’t want to hurt you, but…”

“No, no, it’s okay, I understand.” Aang nodded, tears pushing at the corners of his eyes, threatening to overflow.

“I…” Katara started, but changed her mind. She stood, hesitating for one second more, then turned and left, leaving Aang to his misery.

And misery it was. Aang didn’t see how anything could be okay again. Katara didn’t love him. The fantasy he had turned over in his mind for so many years was gone, already snatched by cold reality.

Still, somehow, he needed to keep it together. He was the Avatar, he needed to save the world. He probably shouldn’t even be thinking about love. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t deny his feelings for Katara.

Aang slumped, patting Appa’s shaggy head.

“Love is hard,” He muttered, more to himself than anyone. “Save yourself, Appa. Don’t fall in love.”

Chapter Text

Azula buried her face in her pillow and screamed, loud enough to hurt her already sore throat. This was not acceptable. This was not acceptable.

Mai and Ty Lee had betrayed her, setting the Water Tribe Peasant and Earth Kingdom Brat free in the process. How could they? She controlled them! Or she had, anyway.

And now, well, now she was angry.

She sat up, snatching her pillow and hurling it across the room, watching it slam full force into the full-length mirror, knocking the mirror over. The mirror shattered with a satisfying tinkling of glass, and Azula grinned to herself, sliding off her bed and picking up one of the pieces of the mirror.

Her reflection stared back at her, and her grin fell away, replaced almost instantly by a scowl.

Pathetic.

Her hair fell in a frizzy ring around her face, and her bangs were uneven. The shadows under her eyes had only gotten darker, and her eyes held a maniac light that gleamed in the same way a concealed knife did.

Then, slowly, every so slowly, her features began to change, softening and blurring into a familiar face. Soon enough, her mother was staring back at her from inside the mirror, her eyes just as compassionate as always. Azula hated it.

“Why are you haunting me?” She spat, glaring at her mother.

Ursa shook her head sadly. “I’m not haunting you, Azula. I’m trying to help you.”

“Well don’t. I don’t want you here.”

“Azula, please.”

“Leave me alone.” Azula didn’t want to hear any more lies out of her snake mother’s mouth. In fact, she would be perfectly fine if she never saw her mother’s face again.

Ursa held out a hand, pressing it to the other side of the glass. “I love you. All I want to do is save you from yourself.”

Azula snarled, pulling her lips back over her teeth like some kind of animal. “I don’t need to be saved.”

Before Ursa could say another word, Azula hurled the shard of glass against the wall, watching in satisfaction as it shattered into a thousand pieces. She threw back her head and laughed, a high pitched, desperate sound.

“Azula…”

Her mother’s voice. What? No, no, this couldn’t be happening. She was gone. She was gone.

“Azula…”

A thousand whispers, echoing up from the many shards of mirror strewn on the floor.

“Azula…”

“Leave me alone!” Azula screamed, slamming her fist into the nearest mirror shard. It broke, and the voice multiplied, ringing in her ears like the buzzing of an insect.

“Azula… Azula… Azula…”

Blood dripped from a shallow cut in her hand.

“Azula… Azula… Azula… Azula… Azula…”

“Stop! Please! Please, just stop!”

“Azula… Azula… Azula… Azula… Azula… Azula…”

She pulled at her hair, screaming louder and louder, as if she could drown out the echoes of her mother’s voice.

“Azula… Azula… Azula… Azula… Azula… Azula… Azula… Azula…”

***

Aang landed Appa outside of the city, and they disembarked, preparing to head into the city. The plan, fleshed out on the ride, was simple, which mostly just meant they had no idea what they were actually going to do. They would break into the prison, find Toph and Sokka, then escape. It was the perfect plan; nothing could go wrong.

Sliding off Appa’s back, Aang avoided looking anywhere near Katara. He knew he was being ridiculous. There were bigger things at stake than his love life, but still, it felt like tearing a hole in his chest and ripping his heart straight out whenever he looked at her.

She was so beautiful. And he could never have her.

Aang sighed. He was supposed to be keeping focused on the task ahead. Well, he wasn’t doing a very good job.

“It shouldn’t be hard to sneak into the city,” Zuko reminded them. “Just remember, no bending, and keep your head down when we come across Fire Nation soldiers.” He pulled his cloak hood over his head, obscuring his face. He would be the most recognizable, after all. Even without the distinctive scar, he was a former prince, and everyone knew of him.

Aang nodded. “Are we ready to go?”

Suki and Katara both voiced their agreement, and the rag-tag group set off, leaving Appa with their remaining food stores and promises to return soon.

Everywhere Aang looked, he saw traces of the world he knew before. Vendor stalls lined the streets, wandering merchants shouting out prices and advertisements. The scents of traditional foods wafted through the air, and the buildings were a bit taller, with a different style of roof, but still similar enough that Aang could almost imagine he was back in his own time, when everything made sense.

He sighed. Maybe it would have been better if he had died that day in the storm, or by the hands of the Fire Nation. Then maybe a more capable Avatar would have risen in his place, and the world wouldn’t have descended into the madness that was the hundred year war.

“Left here,” Zuko said, ushering the group down a side street.

Aang found his gaze once again settling on Katara, his attention drawn to her like she was some kind of magnet. She was looking at Zuko, a complicated expression dancing across her face. Aang frowned, anger rushing to heat his cheeks. This was all Zuko’s fault.

He was taking over leadership of the team, he was drawing Katara’s attention, he was stealing Aang’s rightful place. Unconsciously, Aang’s hands curled into fists.

“I think we should go right,” He said, louder than he had intended. Zuko turned to look at him, confused.

“I know the way,” He said, and Aang narrowed his eyes, trying to send a silent message that he knew exactly what Zuko was trying to do.

Zuko tilted his head, gesturing to the left. “I lived here for most of my life. Well, near here, anyway. I know the city.”

Aang shrugged. “Maybe, but I know the city too. I visited. Before.” It was a flimsy argument, but Aang wasn’t about to sit quietly and watch while Zuko stole everything that was rightfully his.

Suki raised her hand, trying to placate Aang. “That was a long time ago, Aang. The city has changed. Why don’t you just let Zuko lead?”

“I say we go right,” He repeated, bristling.

“Aang,” Katara said, and Aang turned to her, his glare melting away as he stared at her face. “Suki’s right. Zuko knows the city, and you haven’t been here in over a hundred years. We should go left.”

Aang’s anger flooded back full force, and he stomped his foot, not caring if he looked like a belligerent child. “We are going right.”

“What are you doing?” Katara asked, a hint of frustration creeping into her tone. “We’re trying to rescue Sokka and Toph. Zuko knows the way, so let him lead. I don’t see the problem.”

“The problem is that I am the Avatar. I should lead.”

Katara stared at him like he had lost his mind. “Grow up, Aang. This isn’t about you, it’s about getting my brother and friend back.”

Aang deflated. “Fine,” He said darkly, glaring at Zuko. “Left.”

“Hey!”

Turning, Aang’s eyes widened as he spotted two guards walking toward them.

“You there!” The leader shouted, pointing to Aang. “All groups of three or more must be approved. Show me your papers!”

“Groups of three?” Zuko muttered from behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Suki said, stepping in front of Aang. “We’re visitors from far away. Would you please explain the rule? We didn’t hear anything about it.”

The lead guard, a tall woman with an intricate braid, reluctantly nodded. “The Fire Lord implemented the three rule a few weeks ago. It’s to prevent uprisings. Anyone traveling in a larger group than three must pay a fine and carry a permit.”

Suki frowned. “That doesn’t exactly make sense. Anyone who wanted to rebel could just travel in many groups of three.”

The guard shrugged. “It doesn’t do much, practically, but it does show the Fire Lord’s control. That’s what it’s all about, these days. Control.”

Suki nodded, as if it all made perfect sense. “Look. We’re sorry, we can split into two groups.”

The guard sighed. “Alright.” She paused, then shook her head sadly. “It wasn’t always like this. This place used to be welcoming and friendly.”

“Yeah,” Zuko said. “It’s changed.”

Aang scowled. What did Zuko know about anything? Back before the storm, Aang knew this city like the back of his hand. Of course Zuko had to make it about himself.

The guard’s eyes widened, and she squinted, trying to make out Zuko’s face from under his hood. “Do I know you?” She asked, and Aang tensed.

“Uh… no?” Zuko said, though it sounded more like a question than anything.

“No, I recognize your voice.”

“My name is… Uh… Lee.”

The guard frowned. “Well, Lee, why don’t you let me see your face?”

Zuko cleared his throat. “I’d, um, rather not. I have… a rash, you see. It’s gross.”

“Yeah,” Katara said, inching forward in front of Zuko and surreptitiously reaching for the lid of her waterskin. “It’s nasty. We’re sparing everyone the sight.”

Aang’s anger flared once again. She was protecting him? Only a week ago she had hated him with a passion, and now she was acting like they had been friends for ages.

“It’s Zuko!” He blurted, before common sense had a chance to assert itself. “His name is Zuko!”

***

“So, what’s the plan?” Toph asked, crossing her arms. “You do have a plan, right?”

“Of course I have a plan,” Mai said. “Ty Lee, stop cartwheeling and get over here.”

Ty Lee, happy as always, bounced over to them and sat down at the table. “Don’t worry, it’s a wonderful plan.”

Mai rolled her eyes. “No, it’s an awful plan, but it’s the only one we have.”

Sokka watched them as if he were watching the action through a spyglass. It was like he was removed from his body, only a passive observer while Toph and Mai discussed their plan to take the Fire Lord down. Mai was right. It was a terrible plan. Sokka probably could have come up with something better, if he hadn’t decided that nothing was going to matter.

There was no way out, no plan to let them come out on top. Ozai had won, it was only a matter of time until the others accepted it.

“Sokka? Hey, hello?”

He blinked, lethargically dragging himself out of his thoughts. Toph was waving her hand in front of his face, and Mai and Ty Lee were nowhere to be found.

“I didn’t think you were blind too,” Toph said. “Come on, snap out of it. You’re the plan guy, you can improve on the plan.”

Sokka shook his head. “It won’t matter, Toph. There’s no point.”

There was a short silence. Then, Toph wrapped her hand around his arm and pulled him to his feet. She was strong, for one so short.

“Right. We’re going on a field trip.”

“What?”

He didn’t want to go on a field trip. He didn’t want to do much of anything, to be honest.

“I’m gonna pull you out of your mopefest,” Toph said, in a tone that left no room for argument. Sokka didn’t try to resist as she dragged him out of Mai and Ty Lee’s hideout and into the city streets. The city was alive with people, going about their everyday business.

Yes, there was fear. Fear in the way the people rushed a little faster than they normally would, casting wary glances at the Fire Nation guards that roamed the streets. Fear in the hushed conversations, small groups huddled, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible.

But even with the fear and tension hanging in the air, life went on. There were groups of children laughing and playing a game, watched by a few grandparents. Even with the fear, the city was alive, and Sokka felt a pang of homesickness. His village was small, but it was home, and he missed it more than he wanted to admit.

Though, if he were being honest, he wasn’t sure he could ever go back. How could he face Gran-Gran knowing everything he had done? How could he go back to the way things were before?

“See?” Toph said, rather triumphantly, as if the simple city scene would instantly make him feel better. “That’s what we’re fighting for. That, and family, and freedom.”

“Didn’t know you were so sentimental,” Sokka said, gazing out over the street.

Toph shrugged. “Yeah, well, I guess one of us has to be. And you,” She pointed one accusatory finger at Sokka. “Are too busy being mopey.”

“You don’t get it,” Sokka snapped, sharp and bitter. “You didn’t see him.”

Toph raised an eyebrow in a silent challenge.

“Combustion Man. Toph, I killed him.”

“People die, Sokka. It’s war. War is brutal.”

Sokka slumped, turning to go back inside the restaurant that housed Mai and Ty Lee’s hideout. “I suppose.” He shouldn't have tried to make her understand. She wouldn't. She hadn’t seen Combustion Man’s body. The charred flesh, the dead eyes, the blood, the death. She hadn’t seen.

“You did what you had to do,” Toph said, softer, following him into the hideout. “Please. You need to move on.”

“How can I?” He shouted, spinning to face her. “How can I move on? I’m a monster.”

“No. You’re no monster. You’re a boy who had to face things no one should ever have to.”

“A boy.” Of course. No man, no warrior, just a boy. “Toph, I can’t do this. I was wrong to think I could ever help Aang save the world. I thought I was strong enough.” He opened the door to his room and stepped inside, turning for one last miserable glance at Toph. “I think I’d like to be alone for a while, Toph.”

For a second, he thought Toph would protest, but she simply sighed, deflating. “Fine. But please, Sokka, I need your help. I can’t do this alone. Aang can’t do this alone. We need you. Not just because of your boomerang, or your plans, or your fighting skills. We need you.”

Sokka stood, her words somehow managing to slip past his wall of shame and doubt. Maybe…

He shut the door, blocking Toph out.

Chapter Text

Zuko was sorely tempted to fling a fistful of fire at Aang’s face when this was all over. Seriously, what was he thinking? Zuko had made some pretty awful decisions in his own right, but for the life of him, he couldn’t think of a good reason that Aang had given away his name.

So now he was sprinting frantically down the street, hoping to lead the guards away from Katara and the others. They could fend for themselves, he had no doubt about that, but he had a feeling that a fight would cause a bigger scene than a chase.

If he could just lead the guards away to an isolated area, then take them down, leave them unconscious or tied up somewhere, the whole mess would be averted, and everything would be fine.

That was what he told himself the reason was, anyway. The truth was, he simply didn’t want to fight. The Gray had been weighing on him ever since they had escaped the Boiling Rock. It made him feel powerful, yes, but it also was a lurking reminder of his guilt and shame; it was a reminder of the lengths he had gone to just to break free.

His vision still hadn’t returned to normal, and now he was seriously doubting it ever would. Everything was just so wrong. He could almost imagine the voices of the dead Boiling Rock guards calling out to him, begging him to let them free. Free from what? Free from where? He was imagining things. It had to all be in his head. He had to believe that, or he would go insane.

“Stop!” The lead guard called from behind him, and Zuko pushed himself to run faster. Left, right, left again. He knew the city, but so did she, and they were evenly matched in speed. Zuko’s one advantage was that he was desperate.

He skidded around a corner, nearly running into a cabbage stand, and took off down a narrow alleyway.

Behind him, a cart crashed, cabbages rolled, and a distraught vendor began to sob.

“Hey!” The guard yelled, her voice echoing off the alley walls. Zuko chanced a glance backward. She was close, far too close for comfort. It was time to try a different tactic.

He changed directions, feet slipping on the cobblestone as he turned and sprinted, running straight at the alley wall. Planting one foot on the wall, he pushed himself to go faster, running alongside the wall and all but ignoring gravity. He closed the space between him and the guard in a few seconds, then flipped over her head, landing in a crouch and reaching for the knife he kept tucked in his belt.

His Dao swords were too distinctive and noticeable to bring into the city, and Zuko felt the loss keenly. He didn’t want to Firebend if he didn’t have to, and he would not Darkbend. The knife would have to do.

“I don’t want to fight,” The guard said, turning to face him and holding up her hands. “Just listen, please.”

Zuko hesitated. He knew he should knock her unconscious and leave, but he couldn’t help his curiosity.

She apparently took his silence for agreement, and began to plow ahead. “Prince Zuko, I want to help. There are still people in this city that resist Ozai.”

“You’re talking about treason.”

She shrugged. “Yes, I suppose I am. I’m part of a rebel organization that–”

“Stop.” Zuko frowned, examining her face. He wished Toph were here to tell him if she was lying or not. “Why would you trust me? I return after banishment and you immediately think I’m working with the Avatar?”

“Word got about your own treason,” She said. “The Fire Lord has a warrant out for your arrest, along with Avatar and the rest of his group. It wasn’t that hard to put two and two together.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“You don’t. But maybe I can convince you.” She reached for a pouch on her belt, and Zuko tensed, raising his knife. “Oh,” She said, noticing his reaction. “Sorry. It’s just this.” She pulled out a circular object, one that Zuko immediately recognized.

His eyes widened, and he nearly dropped the knife.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, barely daring to hope…

“There’s someone who wants to talk to you,” The guard said, tossing the Pai Sho tile to Zuko. He caught it with one hand, turning it over.

The White Lotus.

Uncle.

***

“The comet will arrive in one week,” Father said, his strong voice carrying easily throughout the large council hall. “By then, we will be readyThe councillors all nodded their agreement, as if they would dare to do anything else. Azula smirked. They were all spineless idiots.

Ozai waved his hand. “Dismissed.”

Around her, the councillors hurried from the room, and Azula made herself comfortable, resting her feet on the large table in the center of the room. “So,” She said, ignoring the spike of nervousness that always seemed to come when she talked to her father. “The plan is working, hm?”

“Of course it is,” Ozai said. “Do you doubt me?”

Azula shook her head. “You know I don’t.”

“Good.” He raised a hand, banishing the flames in front of the throne, and stepped forward, the light of the flames behind him giving him an almost otherworldly aura. “Azula. You are ready for greatness.”

“I’ve been ready for a long time, Father.”

Ozai’s lips curled upward in a cruel smile, and Azula stood, excitement pooling in her stomach. “Yes,” He said. “And now your patience will be rewarded.”

“Father?”

He stared down at her, an expression almost like pride on his face. “After I am crowned Phoenix King, you shall be Fire Lord.”

Azula could hardly believe it. Finally, after all the years of proving herself, over and over and over again, she was getting what she deserved. A wide grin split her face, and she stood a little straighter.

“Thank you, father. I will not let you down.” She meant it. Anything she had to do, she would. There was no line she wouldn’t cross, no rule she wouldn’t break. She was powerful, and power had a cost, a cost she was all too willing to pay.

***

All he had to do was turn the doorknob and open the door. That was all. So why was he still hesitating?

Zuko had been standing outside the door for what seemed like hours, but he was sure was only minutes, trying to gather enough courage to face his uncle. So far, he had managed to nearly talk himself out of it ten times, and the only reason he was still attempting was all the unsaid words that he needed to say.

Uncle probably wanted nothing to do with him ever again. Uncle probably hated him now. Uncle probably would turn him away the second he saw Zuko’s scarred face. But still, no matter how much he reasoned with himself, there was a lingering hope, somewhere deep in his heart, that refused to die.

So, taking a deep breath, Zuko reached out, gingerly wrapping his fingers around the doorknob, closed his eyes, and opened the door.

Uncle was making tea. Of course he was. He loved his tea, maybe more than he loved Zuko.

“Uncle?” Zuko said, his voice trembling. “It- It’s me.”

Slowly, carefully, Iroh set down the teapot and turned to face Zuko, his face filled with cautious hope. Once his gaze settled on Zuko, time seemed to freeze. A million emotions flitted across his Uncle’s weather-beaten face, like he couldn’t decide on just one. To Zuko’s horror, tears began to collect at the corners of his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry for everything. I’m so, so, sorry.”

Uncle stepped forward, and Zuko could hardly breathe. “I know,” Uncle said, the words barely louder than a whisper and choked with tears. “I know.” He held his arms out wide, and Zuko didn’t hesitate, all but flinging himself into his Uncle’s arms.

Uncle was just the same as he remembered, and yet different, all at the same time. The scent of herbal tea hung around him like a comforting cloud, and his warm arms around Zuko felt like acceptance.

“I’m so sorry, Uncle,” Zuko said, his voice muffled by Uncle’s shoulder. “I thought I knew what I wanted. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I…”

“I know.”

Zuko shut his mouth, pressing his face more firmly into Uncle’s shoulder. Maybe, just maybe… Maybe they could be alright. Maybe they could move on, grow, put the past behind them and become better. Maybe he could become better.

“Uncle,” He said, and didn’t even mind the tear tracks running down his cheeks.

“Would you like some tea?”

Zuko pulled back, sniffing, and swiped his sleeve across his eyes. “Uncle, remember when I was younger, and we talked about where Firebending came from?”

Nodding, Uncle sat, pushing one of the two teacups toward Zuko. “Of course. You were very curious.”

“Well, I…” Zuko sighed, plopping down in front of the table, and wrapping his hands around the teacup. The warmth seeped into his hands and reminded him of long ago days, traveling with Uncle. How much had changed since then. How much he had changed since then. “Well, I can Darkbend.”

To his credit, Iroh only looked completely shocked for a second, before his expression smoothed out. “And are you alright?”

Zuko hesitated. From the second they had escaped the Boiling Rock he had managed to keep his thoughts firmly off what had happened. He was afraid of confronting it. Because once he did, it would become real.

“I…” He took a deep breath. Uncle wouldn’t want him once he knew. Once he knew what Zuko had done. “I didn’t mean to. I swear, I didn’t. But… but one of the guards was going to hurt Katara, and then it happened so fast, and I didn’t know what I was doing, and…” He looked down. None of that mattered. “I killed them, Uncle. All of them.”

He didn’t dare look up at Uncle. Didn’t dare to see the horror, the disgust, the anger.

“Zuko.”

“I’m a monster.”

Uncle’s strong hand landed on his shoulder, and Zuko hesitantly turned his face upward.

“You are not a monster,” Uncle said, and oh, how badly Zuko wanted to believe it. “You have been given incredible power. It is a gift, but it is also a burden.”

“Well maybe I don’t want it!”

Iroh sighed. “Sometimes, you don’t get a choice. The only thing left for you to do is to embrace both sides, the good and the bad, learn to control it, and use it to make the world a better place.”

“How can I?” Zuko shook his head, trying to push the image of the guard’s scattered bones out of his head. “How can the power of death ever be used for good?”

Uncle paused, thinking, and Zuko took a sip of his tea, his shaky hands nearly spilling it all over the table. He wished he could go back to a time when things made sense. When he hadn't murdered an entire room of people who were just doing their jobs.

“Zuko,” Uncle began gently. “You need to understand that what happened wasn’t your fault.”

“Of course it was. I was the one who–”

“No.” There was a fire in Uncle’s eyes, one that Zuko had never seen before. It was intense, burning, and Zuko drew back, afraid. “Zuko, listen to me. You were given this power for a reason. This path you are walking down will only lead to uncertainty and pain.”

“I…”

“Trust in yourself, Zuko. Forgive yourself, and learn from it. If you do not learn from your mistakes, you’ll end up hurting everyone you care about. So learn. Grow. Forgive.”

Zuko slumped, wishing he could disappear. This wasn’t the Uncle he knew. This was the Dragon of the West, and he was terrifying. “How can I forgive myself?” He asked in a voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve done so many terrible things. I’ve hurt so many people. I’ve killed so many people.”

Iroh sighed, and suddenly the Dragon of the West was gone, and he was Uncle once more, the kindly old man who loved tea and Pai Sho. “Oh, nephew. Redemption is a hard path. You have to work every day to prove that you have changed, that you aren’t the same person as you used to be. You have to give back tenfold what you took, and even then, some days, you’ll feel like it will never be enough.”

“Will it?” Zuko asked. “Will it ever be enough?”

Uncle held his gaze, a deep sadness reflected there, like twin oceans of regret. He sighed, weary. “I don’t know.”

Chapter Text

Mai was not as apathetic as everyone assumed. Yes, she kept her emotions tightly under control at all times, and yes, she never showed that she cared, but she did. She cared, and that was the entire problem.

She had known Azula for most of her life, at this point, and at the moment, it was caring that was her main problem. Because if she didn’t stop caring, she wouldn’t be able to do what needed to be done.

She and Ty Lee knew Azula better than anyone. Azula was determined, cunning, unpredictable, and above all, ruthless. Mai knew that, and she knew that Azula would stop at nothing to get her way. Still, she couldn't help wondering if there was a better way. A way to get through to Azula, to turn her away from her rage and help her see the truth.

Mai sighed, staring at the dagger resting on the table. It had been a gift from Azula a few years ago, a rare act that didn’t have some kind of twisted motivation behind it. The dagger was intricate, with carvings along the blade. It was a thing of beauty, and yet able to bring such pain.

If only she had another choice. But she didn’t, and she needed to prepare herself. If she had the chance, she needed to kill Azula.

“Mai!” Ty Lee rushed into the room, eyes wide. “They’re coming!”

“Who?” Mai stood hastily, taking hold of her dagger and tucking it up her sleeve. “Who is coming?”

Ty Lee shook her head. “Fire Nation guards! I don’t know how they managed to find us, but they’re coming.”

A thousand plans flashed through Mai’s head in the span of a second, all of them terrible. “Find the Earthbender and her Water Tribe friend. Find them and tell them to leave.”

"Leave? Why? We’ll need all the help we can to fight Azula.”

“No. This isn’t their destiny. They belong with the Avatar. Go with them. I’ll face her alone.”

Ty Lee paused, her normally cheerful expression dark and serious. “I’m staying.”

“Ty Lee, don’t. You still have a life to live.”

“So do you.” Ty Lee shook her head, her face set in a determined scowl. “I’m staying, until the end.”

Mai debated arguing, but there simply wasn’t enough time. “Very well,” She said with a nod. “If we die, there is no one I’d rather die beside than you.”

Ty Lee smiled, a sad echo of her usual bright cheerful grin. “We’ll finish this together, just like always.”

***

“Spirits, Aang, what were you thinking?” Katara had tried to reason out an explanation for Aang’s actions, but had come up empty handed. Aang, at least, had the decency to look ashamed of himself.

“I’m sorry,” He said again, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “I don’t know what I was thinking. It was dumb of me, and I’m really sorry.”

Katara sighed. At this point, she had probably yelled at him enough, considering she had reprimanded him the entire way to the White Lotus hideout. “Well, fine then. I guess it’s not really me you need to apologize to anyway.”

“Yeah,” Aang muttered darkly. “It’s Zuko.”Not this again, she thought. I thought I was clear enough the first time.

“I know you said you don’t like me…. Like that, but I–”

“Aang,” Katara said, rather sharply. “I know what I said, and I’m not going to change my mind. You need to let go.”

He slumped, pouting, and Katara decided she needed a break. Setting her bowl aside, he stood up and started off in a random direction. The tunnels were well lit, at least the main ones, and there was enough space that she didn’t feel claustrophobic.

She wasn’t sure what to make of Aang’s confession. She loved him like a brother, but her feelings didn’t extend beyond that. She had spent far too much time thinking of him like the younger brother she needed to keep an eye on for her to think of him in a romantic light, and his pushing wasn’t helping matters.

But romance wasn’t the most important thing she had to think about. The comet was only a week away, and Aang wasn’t ready. She hadn’t gotten the chance to see his Firebending since the Western Air Temple, but she knew that it wouldn’t be on par with the Fire Lord’s.

Even with the White Lotus’s help, it was hard to see how they could ever win, and worse still, Sokka and Toph were still trapped inside the Fire Nation palace.

Katara sighed, running one hand along the rough cave wall. She missed her brother. It was awful, not knowing if he was okay or not, or if the Fire Nation had hurt him.

“Katara!”

She turned to see Zuko jogging toward her.

“Can we talk?” He asked, and she shrugged.

“Sure.”

Zuko ran a hand through his hair, only for it to flop back in his face, and Katara stifled a chuckle. “How was your talk with your uncle?” She asked.

“It was… good,” He said, though his hesitation was clear. “I just… back at the Boiling Rock, I… did something.”

Katara nodded. “I remember.”

“It was called Darkbending. I don’t know if you know it, not many people do, but it is kinda like bending death.”

Katara’s step faltered. “What?” Bending death? It seemed impossible, but then again, what she had seen back at the Boiling Rock had seemed impossible too. “You…”

“Yeah.”

“But how?”

Zuko shrugged, his gaze pinned firmly on the floor. “I don’t really know how to control it. I just saw you, and a guard was about to hurt you, and I just… reacted.”

“I…” Katara wasn’t sure how to respond. “How did you know you could Darkbend?”

“The Dragons,” Zuko said, waving his arm floppily, like that explained everything. “Aang and I met the Dragons, and they gave me the power of Darkbending so that Aang could have the power of Energybending.”

“Energybending?” Zuko tossed the terms out so casually, like it was common knowledge, and not a concept Katara had never heard of before.

“Yeah. It’s like… I dunno. I don’t really know that much about it. It’s just… nevermind.”

They lapsed into silence, and Katara tried to fit this new information in her worldview. Zuko certainly was powerful, wasn’t he?

Aunt Wu’s words from so long ago echoed in her ears, the fortune teller’s knowing smile almost amused. ‘I see a great romance,’ She had said. ‘With one who is a very powerful bender.’

Katara’s cheeks flushed. “So,” She said, clearing her throat. “Are you going to practice Darkbending?”

Zuko shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t want to, but I guess it’s not really about what I want.”

“I guess not.” She shot a quick glance at him, at the morose expression. “Hey,” She said, lightly bumping her shoulder against his. “It’s going to turn out alright in the end.”

He managed a small smile, and Katara’s flush deepened.

“Maybe you’re right,” Zuko said.

Katara laughed, more of a nervous chuckle than anything. “Of course I am.”

***

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

Azula’s sing-songy voice filtered in through the cracks of the secret door, mixing with the tromping of guard’s boots, and Mai let out a soft breath, tightening her grip around the hilt of her dagger. This was it. This was the end.

She met Ty Lee’s gaze, her friend’s determination spurring her on. Ty Lee nodded, and Mai took one final breath, preparing herself.

“Oh really,” Azula said, a sharp edge of frustration creeping into her tone. “Don’t bother hiding. I know you’re here.”

Mai pushed open the door and stepped through, her hands already in action, throwing shivs with deadly accuracy toward Azula.

“There you are!” Azula said, her eyes filled with maniac light. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t show!”

“Don’t do this,” Mai said, dodging to the side as Azula threw a handful of fire at her. “You have other options.”

Azula cackled. “You’re talking like this isn’t what I’ve been working towards for my entire life. This is my destiny!”

Mai threw herself into a roll, leaping to her feet and ducking under the plumes of fire that Azula sent toward her. “It doesn’t have to be. You can make your own destiny.”

Azula didn’t answer, instead running toward Mai, two fire daggers appearing out of thin air. Mai stumbled backward, narrowly avoiding running into a guard. She ducked, Azula’s swipe missing her head by an inch, and kicked hard, landing a hit on Azula’s stomach and pushing her back.

“I’ve had enough of you,” Azula snarled, her rage an almost tangible being. “It’s time for you to die.”

Mai pulled her dagger out of her sleeve – the dagger Azula had given her – and slashed it toward Azula’s chest. “Do I really mean nothing to you?” She asked, forcing Azula backward with a set of quick attacks. “Even after all our years together?”

“You think I care?” Spinning, Azula snapped her leg out in a roundhouse kick, and Mai bent backwards, Azula’s foot sailing over her head.

“I know that I do,” She said, and Azula faltered.

Azula shook her head, dismissing Mai’s words. “Well, that’s foolish.”

Mai growled, launching another round of dagger’s toward Azula. Nothing she said would get through the Princess's thick skull, and nothing she said would convince her that she was headed down the wrong path. Unless….

Azula sprang, and Mai let her take ground, the two girls trading blows, none quite reaching the other. “I know you,” Mai said, grunting in pain as Azula’s fire dagger swiped against her arm. “I know what you are.”

“Oh?” Azula’s mouth twisted up in a cruel smile. “And what is that, exactly?”

“Afraid.”

Azula paused, her fire disappearing with a puff of smoke. Mai took advantage, pushing Azula roughly backward against the wall and bringing her dagger to her throat.

Silence fell. Ty Lee had dispatched the guards with ease, and now carefully stepped up behind Mai, her hands on her hips.

“Well, isn’t this lovely,” Azula sneered, her face twisted with pure rage. “My two closest companions, betraying me.”

“It doesn't have to be like this,” Ty Lee said. “You can still be good.”

“Goodness doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Maybe not, but it could,” Mai said. She could feel Azula trembling with rage, her eyes sparking and flashing with dangerous fire.

“Are you going to kill me, or not?”

She should. Mai knew it, Azula knew it, even Ty Lee knew it. And yet, there was something that held Mai back from dealing the blow. It would be so easy, but at the same time the hardest thing Mai could ever imagine.

“Oh, poor weak little Mai. Never strong enough to do what needs to be done.” Azula grinned.

Mai hesitated one second more, and one second was all it took. With a scream of rage, Azula snapped her head back as far as she could against the wall, and before Mai could counter with her dagger, Azula kicked her hard in the stomach and sent her stumbling backward.

Ty Lee darted forward to chi block Azula, but she wasn’t quite fast enough. Lunging forward, Azula grabbed hold of Mai’s hand, her grip stronger than iron, and twisted until the dagger fell from her hand. Azula grinned, her face split in a mocking smile, catching the dagger and pressing it against Mai’s throat.

She laughed. “How the tides have turned, hm?”

Mai’s heart threatened to beat straight out of her chest, and she sent a silent apology to Ty Lee. Hopefully, she would make it out of this alive, and find a way to move on, find a way to forget the bloody scene that was sure to follow.

“Azula,” Ty Lee said, her eyes locked onto the Princess’s face. “Stop. Think about what you’re doing.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Even turned away from Azula’s face, with the cool metal of her dagger pressing against her throat and making it hard to think, Mai could hear the crazed grin in her voice. She could see the triumph in Azula’s eyes, the knowledge that she had won.

“Please,” Ty Lee tried again, pleading, begging. “Did you ever care about us at all?”

Azula pressed the dagger harder against Mai’s throat, and Mai stifled a gasp of pain as the sharp edge broke skin and a sluggish river of blood trickled down her neck. “I don’t care about anything except for power,” Azula hissed, her voice hard and cold.

Mai closed her eyes. She hoped her death would be quick. Perhaps Azula would be merciful enough to grant her that, at the very least.

“Azula!” Ty Lee’s voice was frantic now, desperate.

Get out, Mai thought. Get out while you still can.

Azula hesitated. Mai could feel her hand trembling and hear her harsh breathing. Maybe she wasn’t as ruthless as Mai had thought. Maybe she did care after all. Maybe…

Chapter Text

Sokka was different, and Katara didn’t know why. He was reserved, quiet, and his eyes were unfocused more often than not. She was worried. Very worried.

“Hey,” She said gently, lowering herself to sit next to him and slumping against the wall.

Sokka didn’t reply, and Katara nudged him with her shoulder, hoping for any reaction, even a negative one.

“Are you okay?” She asked, even though it was clear to anyone within a twenty foot radius that no, he wasn’t okay. “Sokka, please, talk to me.”

When he finally replied, his voice was rough, and filled with bitter sarcasm. “What do you want me to say?”

Katara shrugged. “Whatever you need to, I guess.”

“Hah.” Sokka slid further down the wall, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on his folded arms. “There’s a lot of things I need to say.”

“Then say them.”

Sokka shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

A pause, and for a moment Katara wasn’t sure he was going to answer at all. Then he sighed, more frustrated than anything. Good. Frustrated, she could understand. Frustrated, she could deal with.

“I just can’t, okay?”

“Okay.”

He looked up at that, like he wasn’t quite sure Katara was serious. She didn’t blame him. She desperately wanted to pry the truth out of him, force him to tell her what the matter was so she could fix it, but she also knew forcing him to tell her before he was ready wouldn’t help anything.

“Whenever you’re ready,” She said, reaching out and laying a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be here. Okay?”

Sokka nodded, his expression slightly less miserable. “Thanks.”

They settled into silence, and Katara took the time to collect her thoughts. Darkbending, Energybending, everything about it sounded unreal. They were just kids playing with powers they didn’t understand, and all Katara could do was hope Aang and Zuko were strong enough to handle the weight of the responsibility.

“She didn’t die in the South Pole.”

Sokka’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts, and Katara looked up at him, confused. “What? Who?”

“Mom.”

Katara frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“She didn’t die that day.” Sokka’s teeth pulled back in a growl, and Katara’s eyes widened. She had never seen her brother so violent before, and it scared her. “Mom. The Fire Nation took her prisoner. She was still alive.”

Katara couldn’t believe her ears. “W-what?”

Sokka’s eyes flashed, cold ice and steel reflected in his gaze, newfound rage and confidence rising to the surface. “Azula killed her. Azula is the one who took Mom away from us. Azula is the one who deserves to pay.”

This couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. Katara had spent days at the water’s edge, hoping, fearing, dreading to see her mother’s corpse under the crystal clear ice. She had visited the ice flow where they had found her necklace thousands of times, all in the hopes that it would bring her some comfort, some sign that her mother was watching over her.

Azula.

“How do you know?” She asked, an undersea riptide of emotions threatening to pull her under. “How do you know?”

“She told me.” Sokka’s voice was colder than ice. “She sealed her own fate, Katara.” He met her stare unflinchingly, a cruel smile playing over his features. “I’m going to kill her. I’m going to make her feel the pain that I felt. That Mom felt. I’m going to kill her slowly, and I’m going to enjoy every second.”

Katara reeled back, scrambling away from Sokka. This was not the brother she knew. This was someone else entirely, someone consumed with rage, someone who had lost himself to darkness.

“Sokka,” She pleaded. “Please, this isn’t you.”

“It wasn’t,” He said, ignoring her fear. “It wasn’t before, but it is now.”

***

Aang hated thinking about death. Everything about the Air Nomad philosophy was based on the idea that all life was sacred. It was based on forgiveness and adaptation, personal growth and freedom.

War was everything that his philosophy was not. In war, good people lost themselves and committed terrible crimes. In war, everyone suffered, from generals to soldiers to citizens. In war, no one won.

So, if he had the power to cut off the serpent’s head, shouldn’t he use it? If he could end the war and return the world to peace, wasn’t that worth the death of one man? Wasn’t it his duty to kill Ozai?

Aang sighed. He had been so hopeful when the Dragons had gifted him the power to Energybend. After all, it was the perfect solution; He wouldn’t have to kill Ozai, but he would still end the war. It was perfect!

Now, though, he wasn’t sure what was right and what was wrong. When he had used Energybending on Momo, he had felt so powerful, like he was strong enough to hold up the weight of the world. There was no doubt in his mind that he was right, because, after all, how could someone so powerful be wrong?

It wasn’t that he hated the way Energybending made him feel. Actually, it was the opposite. He hated the way he loved how Energybending made him feel. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that if he continued to use Energybending, the power would become harder and harder to resist.

But then again, how could he not use the power he had to defeat Ozai?

One promise. That was all that held him back from Energybending. One promise, born of desperation. And yet, who was he if he broke his promise? Who was he if his word was not ironclad?

Shaking his head to clear it, Aang set his bowl of curry and rice aside and stood. He needed a walk to clear his head.

Soon enough, he was walking through the streets of the city, hood pulled over his head to hide his face. The night was clear and warm, and there were far more stars than he could even start to count.

The city streets were clear, for the most part. Curfew was only an hour or so away, and most of the citizens were already safe in their homes, far away from the Fire Nation patrols that wandered the streets.

Aang kept his head down, heart pounding every time he passed a guard. The city had never been like this when he had visited. Before, it had been filled with light and laughter, and everyone was welcomed.

Ozai was a blight on the land. He twisted the Fire Nation into something it was not. The only question was, would the Fire Nation return to the way it was before if Aang killed Ozai, or was the blight too deep to ever be removed?

Shoulders slumping, Aang turned around and began the trek back to the White Lotus hideout. The fresh air hadn’t done much to clear his head, but it was nearly curfew, and he wanted to avoid running into trouble.

But of course, trouble found him.

“Stop!”

A child’s frantic voice broke through the silence of the night, and Aang turned, instantly spotting the trouble. A Fire Nation guard held onto the young boy’s arm – he couldn’t have been more than six – shouting something that Aang couldn’t quite make out.

He hesitated, torn. If he got involved, he might blow his cover. But if he didn’t, who knew what would happen? It wasn’t much of a decision.

“Hey!” He shouted, running only slightly faster than was humanly possible with a little bit of Airbending. “Stop! Let him go!”

The guards did, dropping the boy’s arm and turning to face him, their faces hidden under their helmets.

“This does not concern you,” The guard said, his voice sharp. “Go on your way.”

Aang shook his head. “Of course it concerns me. What crime did the boy commit?”

The guard held up a bruised apple. “He was stealing.”

“We’re starving!” The boy protested, his small, grimy hands balled into fists. “Please, Mister, we need it.”

For a second, the guard hesitated, and Aang felt a small flickering of hope. Maybe the situation could be solved without violence. Maybe the guard could show a bit of compassion. Maybe he wouldn’t have to fight.

“Sorry kid,” The guard said, and he did sound apologetic. “But that’s not the way the world works. You pay for it, or you starve.”

“Wait!” Aang said, patting his pockets. “I’ll, uh.. hang on.” He was sure that he had some money in the pocket of his cloak somewhere, if he could just find it. “I thought I had…”

The guard shook his head. “I don’t have time for this. The boy is going to prison.”

Aang’s eyes widened. “For stealing an apple? Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?”

“Not my place to say. I’m just following the rules.”

“Well maybe the rules are unjust!”

The guard shrugged. “Of course they are. Everyone knows that.”

“So fight them! Resist! You don’t have to be a part of the corruption.”

“Listen,” The guard snapped, and Aang nearly took a step backward. “I have a family to feed. Yes, it’s unjust, but that’s just the way the world works. Now, step aside, or I’ll have to make you, and charge you for interruption of the peace.”

“Please,” Aang pleaded, though with every passing second, he grew more certain that violence was unavoidable. He could leave, of course, and let the boy go to prison, but that wasn’t what he stood for, and he knew that he could not just stand by and do nothing.

“Step. Aside.” The guard dropped the apple carelessly on the dusty ground, widening his stance and preparing for a fight.

“No.”

“Very well.”

Aang launched himself into the air, pushing off with a burst of air, and flipped over the guard’s head, landing behind him and planting a kick to his back.

The guard stumbled forward, but recovered quickly and spun, throwing a fistful of fire at Aang’s head. Aang bent backward, watching with wide eyes as the fire passed an inch from his head, then popped back up and stomped one foot into the ground, a pillar of rock shooting out of the ground and sending the guard flying backward.

Aang winced in sympathy as the guard crashed into a vendor’s stall on the opposite side of the street, the boards cracking and breaking around him. The guard groaned, falling to the ground with a heavy clank.

And just like that, the fight was over, as quickly as it had begun. Aang turned, stooping to pick up the bruised apple from where it had fallen in the dust.

“Here,” He said, handing it to the terrifying boy, who stared up at him with wide eyes. “It’s okay, they won’t bother you anymore, you hear me?”

The boy nodded, his wide eyes never leaving Aang’s face.

“Okay.” Aang patted his pockets, eventually fishing out a few coins. “Here,” He said, handing them to the boy. “It’s not much, but maybe it can help.”

“A-are you the…” The boy leaned closer, like the very word was a dirty secret. “T-the A-avatar?”

Aang nodded. “I am.”

The boy’s eyes widened even further, if that was even possible. A small smile tugged on the corners of his mouth, and even as he clutched the coins and apple in his grubby hand, starving, alone in the streets of a hostile city, Aang could see a flare of hope ignite in his eyes.

“What’s your name?” Aang asked, placing a hand on the young boy’s shoulder.

“Osu,” The boy – Osu – said, standing a little taller and holding his head a little higher.

“You are stronger than you know,” Aang said. “Never stop fighting, Osu. The light will come. All you have to do is stay strong.”

***

There was blood under Azula’s fingernails. It had long since dried, turning a shade of red so dark it was nearly black. Azula had scrubbed and scrubbed, but she couldn’t seem to clean it all off. Maybe it wasn’t there at all. Maybe she was just imagining it. Maybe phantom blood was the price she had to pay for control.

She sighed and sat on her bed, staring at the floor, trying to push her last image of Mai out of her head.

Monster.

Mai falling to the floor, toppling forward like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Control.

Ty Lee screaming, a harsh, grating sound of pure anguish. Somehow, Azula couldn’t bring herself to enjoy it.

Monster.

Mai’s labored breaths, each one wet and pained.

Control.

Ty Lee dropping to her knees, pleading, begging, whining, sniveling.

Monster.

Mai, staring up at her with betrayal and understanding all mixed together, the red drip, drip, dripping to a puddle beneath her neck.

Control.

‘I know what you are. Afraid.’

No. No, no, no, no, no!

Azula hunched forward on her bed, twisting her hands in her hair and pulling, harder and harder and harder, like if she pulled hard enough, she could pull the memories straight out of her head.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Azula screamed.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

What good was power if she drowned inside her own mind, suffocated by the blood of one who she had almost dared to call a friend?

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip…

Chapter Text

It was nice to have a purpose once again. Reliving, almost. It may have been a dark, evil purpose, but it was better than the days he had spent lost, drifting, no direction in mind.

Ironic, wasn't it? That Azula, the very one to give him his newfound purpose, was the very same person to die from it. Well, Sokka didn’t care if it was ironic or not. Azula was going to die by his hand, and before she did, he would thank her. Thank her for pulling him out of the depths of despair, for giving him a reason to fight.

Turning to Katara, he gave her a sharp nod. “Ready?” He asked, and she hesitated only a second before nodding in reply.

“Sokka,” She began, but he shook his head, cutting her off.

“You remember the plan?”

She nodded. “Of course I do. But Sokka, I just–”

“Not now,” He snapped, and Katara flinched. Sokka paused, a flicker of guilt worming its way through his stomach. “I’m sorry,” He said, and meant it. “We can talk later, okay? For now, we need to focus.”

Katara reluctantly nodded, and Sokka turned back to the view in front of them. It was finally here. The Comet, the event the whole world had been holding its breath for, waiting, dreading. It was here, and with it, the end. One way or another, it would all end here.

“Go,” He said, then turned and walked away. Katara, Toph, and Suki could handle the airships. His mission was one that was far more important.

Zuko was waiting on Appa’s head, his expression grim. “Ready?” He asked, and Sokka sneered.

“More than.”

“Good.” Zuko flicked Appa’s reins, and they began to move. “Yip yip!”

Sokka turned back to watch his sister slowly recede, shrinking until she was barely a speck on the ground. She would understand. All of her life she had hated the Fire Nation, and especially the soldiers who had killed their mother. She would understand, he was sure of it.

Soon enough, the Fire Nation palace came into view, and Sokka grinned, anticipation flooding his veins with restless energy. This was his rematch against his mother’s killer. He had beaten her once, pinned her and put his hands to her throat. He had hesitated. He had been weak.

Never again. He was going to take control, make her pay for everything she had done. One life to pay for countless others. One life to pay for his mother’s.

He fingered his sword’s hilt, then reached back and patted his back, checking his equipment. Sword, shield, boomerang, everything was ready.

Figures grew on palace steps, Azula, kneeling down, a crown hovering inches from her head. Zuko jumped off Appa’s head, his back straight and head held high.

“Stop!” He said, his voice carrying around the large pavilion.

“Brother!” Azula said, tilting her head as a slow grin spread across her face. “What a pleasant surprise! Are you here to witness my coronation?”

“You will not be Fire Lord,” Zuko said. Sokka slid off Appa’s back and stepped up beside Zuko, hand itching to unsheath his blade.

Azula arched one eyebrow. “Oh? And who do you propose instead?”

“Me.”

“You?” Azula threw back her head and laughed, as if Zuko had told the best joke in all the world. “You wouldn’t last a minute, Zu-Zu. You’re not strong enough. You’re not strong like I am.”

Zuko didn’t reply, and Azula growled, her expression falling from amusement to anger. “Fine. You want to settle this once and for all? Good. You and me, brother, Agni Kai.”

Sokka glanced over at Zuko’s face. If Zuko accepted, he would lose his chance to fight Azula. “Don’t,” He said, but Zuko shook his head.

“I have to, Sokka. This way, no one else gets hurt.” Then, louder, “I accept, Azula.”

Azula clapped her hands together in a display of sheer glee. “Wonderful! Now I get the honor of ending your miserable, pathetic little life myself! What a wonderful coronation day present!”

Sokka clenched his hands into fists. Of all the times for Zuko to be unbearably noble, this was the worst. “Don’t you dare die,” he hissed to Zuko.

Zuko shot him a lopsided grin. “I’ll try.”

***

“I’m terribly sorry it has to end like this, brother,” Azula said, her eyes wide and crazed.

“No, you’re not.” Zuko raised his hands, ready. This was the moment that he proved himself. He was going to defeat Azula and take the throne.

Azula looked awful. Her hair was a frizzy mess around her head, and there were shadows so dark underneath her eyes, Zuko nearly thought they were bruises. She was almost sickly pale, even with his vision tinted gray, and her eye twitched every so often. Zuko was trying very hard not to care, but a part of him still saw his little sister, who was manipulative, cruel, and vindictive, but who he couldn’t help but love.

And maybe it wasn’t even love. Maybe it wasn’t as strong as love, but he did care, for better or for worse.

Azula struck, fast as a viper, running forward with a volley of attacks. Zuko leapt high, a plume of fire passing underneath him, and kicked out fire of his own to block Azula’s blue flame. He landed in a crouch, bringing his hands together to split another of Azula’s blasts down the middle.

At first glance, Firebending was destruction, and if you didn’t look closer, that was all it was. And destruction was the only way Azula wielded it. She bent fire to her will to burn, pillage, hurt, destroy.

But Fire wasn’t just destruction. It was life, the blessing of heat from Agni, needed to survive. It was beautiful, it was kind, it was alive.

Zuko planted his feet, pushing both hands forward and releasing an enormous plume of fire to meet Azula’s, his mix of red, orange, yellow, and thousands of other colors meeting Azula’s blue and pushing, neither willing to give.

The fire died, and Zuko stepped forward, firing another blast of fire. Azula flipped, launching herself into the air with a column of blue flames beneath her feet.

Dodging out of the way of the aerial attacks, Zuko fell into a roll, the blue fire dispersing where he had been only a second earlier. He leapt to his feet, countering with a whip of fire that sailed through the air like a living, breathing dragon, reaching for Azula with gnashing teeth.

Azula fell, saving herself at the last second with a quick burst of fire to flip into a spin, stumbling as she landed. She screamed, a harsh sound that tugged on Zuko’s heart. Still, he ran toward her, fire trailing behind him, leaping and racing along the stone.

Azula’s scream grew louder, a piercing wail that sounded like it had been torn from her very heart and left on the stone to burn and die in agony. Her flames flared, and she threw herself toward Zuko, a maelstrom of flames following behind.

In her eyes, he could see the flames reflected, the blue and orange light flickering together, consuming her. He hesitated, and Azula sprang, seizing the opportunity. Raising both hands high above her head, Azula brought them down, and tongues of blue fire raced toward Zuko, ready to swallow him whole.

Zuko leapt into a roundhouse kick, his own flames breaking through Azula’s. He grimaced as a flame brushed against his arm, pain flashing briefly before adrenaline chased it away.

He knew just how dangerous Azula was. And yet, even though he had seen her cruelty firsthand far too many times to count, and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she would kill him, if given the chance, he was calm, letting the fire flow through him like a living thing, letting his body move instinctually, years and years of grueling practice taking control.

He swept his foot through Azula’s next wall of flames, countering with his own strike, and Azula flew backward, tumbling and rolling to a stop.

She glared up at him, gasping for air.

“Give it up,” He called, settling into a Firebending stance and keeping careful watch as Azula heaved herself to her feet, nearly falling over before she found her balance. “You won’t win.”

Despite it all, Azula grinned, her eyes triumphant. “Maybe not, but I’ll take everything I can from you before I go!” Her smile stretched as she summoned lightning. The day seemed to darken around her, the crackling energy gathering around the tips of two fingers. Zuko narrowed his eyes, ready.

Her eyes flicked to the side, and Zuko followed her gaze, only to see Sokka a little way behind him, sword held in one hand, shield in the other.

Oh. Oh no.

The realization hit him just as Azula released the lightning, its curving, jagged path carving through the air, deadly, headed straight for Sokka. For Zuko’s friend. The second realization hit him a second later, as he was already beginning to move, each step feeling far too small.

He wasn’t going to make it. Sokka was going to die.

Sokka, however, didn’t seem worried. In fact, as Zuko watched, he smirked, raising his shield into the lightning’s path, then moving his sword to touch the shield, positioning it so the tip was pointed toward Azula.

A third realization, just as powerful as the first two, hit him just as Azula’s lightning hit the shield, crackling as it connected with the metal and surged through the sword, following the path of the metal and exiting through Sokka’s sword, straight for Azula.

Azula.

Azula!

Zuko was close now, so, so close. He could smell the sharp bitter scent of the lightning, feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up, nearly feel the prickling of electricity on his skin. Time seemed to be moving slowly, each second stretching longer and longer.

He leapt, throwing his arm out to catch the lightning, like Uncle had taught him. Through the blue glow, he could see Sokka’s face, a horrified mask of shock, disbelief, and fear. He would have liked to imagine that Azula’s face showed the same, even if he knew it wasn’t true.

The lightning hit, traveling up his arm and straight into his heart. Zuko barely felt it as he tumbled to the ground. He barely felt the cool stone beneath him, or heard Sokka’s voice. All he could focus on was the pain, jagged and sharp, like he was being stabbed with thousands of daggers, over and over and over again.

He curled into himself, fingers scrabbling for a grip on his tunic, like he could reach inside and pull the lightning straight out of him, like he could get rid of the crawling sensation that skittered under his skin, digging deeper and deeper and deeper, until he was afraid they had reached his soul and burrowed until there was nothing left.

Still, he would have thrown himself in front of dagger, ice, fire, earth, or air for Azula. Even if she never loved him, and never would, he couldn't live with the knowledge that he could have saved her, and didn’t.

Azula, despite everything, was still his sister.

Chapter Text

Toph was doing a very good job about not thinking where they were. Specifically, on floating airships above the sea, with earth and solid ground a very, very long way away.

Then again, it helped that she was focused on beating up some Fire Nation soldiers. She was having a lot of fun, actually. Metalbending was supremely helpful, especially when your entire surroundings were made up of metal. She stomped, heavy metal armor peeling away and falling to the floor with a loud clank.

“This is fun!” She said, grinning.

“Good job, Toph,” Suki said as she stepped into the room, carefully avoiding the jagged bits of metal that stuck up from the floor. “Right. Katara, pilot this thing, if you would.”

Toph grinned wickedly. “Why don’t you let me? I’m sure nothing would go wrong.”

Suki snorted. “Uh huh.”

“How are we going to take care of the rest of the airships?” Toph asked. They could beat their way through the row, jumping from one to the next, wreaking havoc on the fleet, but that probably wasn’t the most effective option. Whether or not it was the most fun, though, Toph had yet to decide.

“I’ll take care of them,” Katara said, her voice grim.

Oh, yeah, Toph thought. Waterbender over the sea. Makes sense.

“Suki, take control of the helm,” Katara continued. “Turn us closer to the rest of the fleet, and I’ll find a way onto the outer rigging.”

Toph nodded. “I’m coming too.”

Katara didn’t protest, so Toph followed her out into the hallway of the giant metal airship. After incapacitating several Fire Nation soldiers and engineers on the way, they found a doorway that led through to the catwalk that circled the airship’s exterior.

“Watch my back, Toph,” Katara said, stepping out onto the long, thin, walkway that jutted out over open air.

Toph nodded, planting her feet. She could sense the soldiers coming for them, tromping up through the metal shell of the ship, only about ten or so guards in the first wave, so, in other words, easy.

Behind her, Katara began to move, bending water that Toph couldn’t see.

Jerking both hands up and sliding one foot, Toph ripped the railing free from the main walkway, twisting it into two vicious snakes that reared their heads toward the soldiers, their bodies creaking and groaning as metal grated on metal. She grinned, feeling like nothing in the world could stop her. She was unbeatable, the Blind Bandit, the greatest Earthbender in all the world, and today, these pesky Fire Nation soldiers would know fear!

The first wave of guards rushed out onto the catwalk, and Toph struck, not waiting for them to get a good glimpse of the enemy. She thrust her arms forward and slid her foot along the metal beneath her, and the metal railing obeyed, shooting forward and wrapping around the soldiers, tightening their vice-like grip and lifting them high into the air, then dropping them off the edge of the airship.

Heh.

Two down, plenty more to go. Toph ordered her twin metal snakes to whip across the walkway, low enough to sweep the soldier's feet out from under them, and, once they were on the ground, she stomped, pulling her arms up and together, bending the metal walls around them to pull away from the frame of the airship and wrap around the soldiers, trapping them in place like insects caught in a spider-web.

The next soldier was slightly more ready, dodging Toph's attacks and launching over the metal railings, landing in a crouch in front of her, then springing to his feet and punching toward. Toph jumped to the side, punching the metal beneath her and ripping up, sending the rest of the metal in a shockwave that knocked the soldier off his feet.

Then the soldier leapt, out of Toph's sensing, and she tensed, wary. A second later, he reappeared, sliding over the large ridges Toph had made with her bending. He had the advantage of surprise, and Toph stumbled backward, nearly losing her footing.

She recovered quickly, then slammed one foot into the metal floor, calling a column of metal underneath him, wrapping around his legs and dragging him down, pinning him to the floor.

Smirking, Toph cracked her knuckles. Easy.

But, of course, the universe wasn’t done with her quite yet. The soldier’s hands were still free, and he thrashed into a somewhat sitting position, red hot flames already on their way toward Toph.

Darting backward, Toph bent a wall of metal to block the stream of fire.

This was not a good idea. Rather, it was one bad idea in the sea of many.

Toph had gotten so caught up in the fight that she had forgotten where they were. And, of course, where they were was a floating metal airship, with only the measly metal catwalks underneath their feet to keep them from plummeting into the ocean below.

The entire metal rigging groaned beneath her, and Toph's ecstasy at the fight fled like a coward as she took the time to survey the battle scene.

Katara was still on the outermost point of the walkway directly behind her, hands raised in some Waterbending motion. Around her, the outer rigging of the ship was in utter tatters. Jagged metal strips poked up unevenly, and entire sections of the walkway had been sacrificed to the fight.

"Monkey-feathers," Toph muttered. She was standing on one of the most unstable points of all, most of the destruction spreading from around her, which also meant, of course, that Katara, literally out on a limb, was in serious danger of falling to her death. Toph might need to add some expletives to her previous statement.

“Flaming tar covered Monkey-feathers!”

Katara liked to delude herself into thinking that she and her friends were completely on the side of good, that everything they did was righteous and pure, and that no harm came because of it. Of course, she really did know that good and evil weren’t exactly so clear cut, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she and her friends had done some truly horrendous things. Those horrendous things weren’t clear cut either, however. All of them – the ones who were supposed to save the world – were barely older than children, and they made mistakes.

Katara bent a stream of water from the ocean below, freezing and sharpening the point into a deadly weapon. She hesitated only a second before directing it toward the next airship in line.

This was not one of those actions that hovered in the gray area. Katara was purposefully and with malicious intent destroying the airships that kept hundreds of men and women in the sky. They would fall, and if the crash didn’t kill them on impact, then they would most certainly drown in the prison of the ship’s metal frame. And if, by some small miracle, they managed to make it out of the wreckage, their heavy armor would weigh them down, dragging them to the depths once their strength for treading water was gone. Land was far, far away, and Katara was sure no one would be able to swim that far, even without the heavy clothes.

No, Katara was sure that she was spelling a death sentence for each and every person on board those airships.

But, she told herself, this was war. This was necessary. Wasn’t it?

Katara’s icicle-tipped wave of water slammed into the side of the closest airship, easily tearing a hole in the fabric. The airship immediately began to go down, air leaking out of the puncture quicker than Katara had thought it would. It was a silent descent, but Katara knew it was deadly all the same.

She looked away.

Behind her, she heard the sounds of Toph’s fight – metal screeching against metal – and shook her head, trying to focus. She needed to do this. The Fire Nation was going to destroy the world, and it was her duty to stop them.

Taking a deep breath, Katara raised her arms, bending another stream of water from the ocean below and freezing the tip.

“Forgive me,” She whispered, and struck.

The metal underneath Toph’s feet was swaying, which she didn’t take as a good sign. In fact, she took it as a sign that she needed to act, and fast.

Darting out onto the metal beam that Katara was on, Toph hoped desperately that she wasn’t heavy enough to send the metal platform – and both of them – tumbling into the ocean. The metal creaked and groaned, but held steady as Toph slowed, inching her way toward her friend.

“Katara!” She shouted, but the other girl didn’t seem to hear her, too caught up in her bending to notice. “We need to move!”

She was halfway across the platform now, and Katara still hadn’t noticed the danger she was in. Beneath Toph, the metal shuddered, and she stumbled back. She had no good options. Metalbending would simply damage the structural integrity of the airship even more, and she wouldn't be able to make it out onto the platform by Katara without causing the whole section of walkway to fall.

Toph swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Was she going to die?

No.

This was not the end of the Blind Bandit. She was better than this. She could find some way out. She would.

Toph took a deep breath and inched forward once more, reaching out a hand for her friend. "Katara!" She shouted, and finally, Katara turned.

Unfortunately, her turning was the final movement needed to send the whole platform to its destruction.

The metal buckled underneath Toph's feet, and her stomach dropped through the platform and into the ocean below.

“Toph!” Katara shouted, her eyes widening as the platform swayed wildly beneath her.

“Think, Beifong, think!” Toph berated herself, and apparently it worked, since a moment later, a scattered, harebrained scheme came to her. Before she had a moment to think or talk herself out of it, Toph acted, sprinting along the rest of the platform to join Katara at the end.

Of course, the metal began to snap and break, but Toph was already moving, throwing her arms around Katara and stomping with one foot, jerking her chin up as well.

Beneath them, the metal moved, but not just as it broke, as Toph’s bending bent it downward, then launched them into the air like the whole platform had turned into a giant catapult. Toph and Katara hurtled through the air, and Toph had just enough time to hope that she hadn't overshot before they slammed into the airship’s balloon side and tumbled down to the walkway.

Toph groaned, dazed. Slowly, she sat up, taking stock of her body. She would have a few bruises from the fall, but otherwise, she was fine.

“Toph!” Katara shouted, and Toph’s heart jolted. She sensed through the metal and scrambled to her feet, panic replacing every bit of relief she had felt after her last minute plan had worked.

In all her terror of the metal frame falling apart, she had completely forgotten about the soldier who she had pinned to the floor. The same soldier who still had his hands free. The very same soldier who was currently firing a blast of fire directly at her.

Toph yelped, stumbling backwards, but it was too late. The flames, aimed for where she had just been sitting, washed around her feet and legs.

Vaguely, she was aware of someone screaming. It took her a moment to realize that she was that someone.

Chapter Text

Aang took a deep breath, trying and failing to prepare himself. The Phoenix King’s airship was approaching, growing from a small speck to a massive, looming behemoth, spitting fire from its mouth like a dragon made of metal and cloth.

This was it. It was time to fulfill his destiny as the Avatar.

Aang had picked a large empty space filled only with tall rock columns jutting up from the ground. There were hundreds of them, standing there, silent, steadfast, as they had for thousands of years. It was the perfect place for the final battle, since there were no inhabitants nearby to be hurt, and there was no vegetation – or not much, anyway – to catch fire and spark a wildfire.

The airship was close now, and Aang could just make out Ozai, firelight glinting off his intricate armor. Aang narrowed his eyes, then leapt, twisting in the air. Before he landed, a slab of earth ripped from the rock he was standing on and shot with deadly force toward Ozai. Aang landed lightly, bending a small stream of air to catch his feet before they slammed into the rock.

Ozai stepped off the platform at the bow of the airship, falling for a second before bending jets of flame to propel him through the air.

Aang couldn't help it, a spike of terror shot through him, and he flipped his glider open, leaping and propelling himself into the air. He landed lightly on a stone column nearby, bending sheets of rock to fly at Ozai's growing form.

Ozai avoided the flying rocks nimbly, rolling and dodging under the stone slabs. He was close enough now that Aang could see the cruel smile on Ozai’s face, and the greedy glint in his eye.

Aang's destiny was to fight the Fire Lord. So why, then, was he so terrified? Why wasn't he completely sure of himself, confident in his abilities, and ready to do whatever needed to be done? Why wasn't he what the Avatar needed to be?

Ozai landed on the stone column in front of him, glaring at him with triumph gleaming in his gaze. "It's over, Avatar," He said, voice just as commanding and regal as a king's should be. "I have already won."

"No you haven't," Aang said, trying to muster up all his confidence, though it was hard not to feel like a belligerent child while facing the Phoenix King in all his glory.

Ozai raised one arrogant eyebrow. "Oh? And why's that?"

Aang swallowed, straightening his back and holding his head high. "My friends are stopping the other parts of your plan. Azula and the airships are already taken care of, and your hold on Ba Sing Se won't be far behind."

"So much faith in your friends," Ozai said with a slight grin. "Are you sure your faith is not unfounded?"

"Of course I'm sure." This, at least, Aang was confident in. He knew his friends, and he knew they would succeed.

Still, the glint in Ozai’s eye planted a seed of doubt in Aang’s confidence. It was the look of a predator, one that lay low in the grass, stalking its prey before leaping and closing its powerful jaws down on the prey’s neck. Aang nearly shivered despite the sweltering sun beating down on his back.

No. He couldn’t doubt now. One way or another, it would all end here, and he couldn’t lose his confidence. He was the Avatar.

It took everything he had, but Aang planted his feet and took a deep breath, standing his ground. Ozai smiled once more, a knowing smile, one that was mocking and cruel, cold and menacing, and so utterly confident. Aang clenched his hands into fists around his glider, and, before he could lose his nerve, sprang forward, launching a fistful of fire toward Ozai's face.

With a lazy swipe of his hand, Ozai dissipated the fire, then, faster than Aang thought anyone could move in such heavy armor, lunged forward, slamming both palms together and summoning a spiraling column of fire that spun towards Aang, red-hot. Aang could feel the heat scorch his back as he leapt into the air, flipping over the fire with a bit of Airbending to propel himself over the flames. He twisted in midair, rotating his body until he could see Ozai, whose hands were already raised for another attack.

Aang landed in a crouch, already tensing his muscles and preparing to dodge another blast of fire. Ozai leapt into a kick, powerful flames following the arc of his foot, and Aang had just enough time to leap into the air, unfolding his glider with a snap and flying just out of reach of the flames.

He knew that he couldn't keep playing this game of alligator-cat and mouse, though. At some point, he would have to gather up his courage and launch a full frontal attack.

It was like Earthbending, actually. He had been taught to flow like the movement of the wind, finding a new solution to his problems, always thinking of new ways to confront the problem, always adapting. But Earthbending was the exact opposite. It was facing problems head on, powering through even when things got tough and never wavering.

Aang took a deep breath. This wasn't something he could flow around. This wasn't something he could avoid. No, this was something he had to face head on.

Inspired by the new outlook on the fight, Aang planted his feet, drawing in a massive breath and blowing it out at Ozai’s flames, breaking apart the fire and knocking Ozai off balance. Before Ozai had a chance to recover, Aang moved, bending huge chunks of rock from the stacks around him and hurling them at the Phoenix King.

Aang nearly grinned as Ozai was forced backward, despite the stakes. Maybe this wasn’t as hopeless as he thought. Maybe he actually had a chance to make things right.

But could he do that without killing Ozai or breaking his vow to never Energybend again?

Well. That was a bridge he'd cross when he got to it. First, he had to focus on not dying.

Dodging out of the way of a blast of fire, Aang retaliated with a stream of concentrated air, knocking Ozai back. Before the Phoenix King could recover, Aang was bending massive slabs of rock toward him, and Ozai had to throw himself to the side to avoid being crushed.

Ozai snarled, anger flashing in his eyes. He lunged forward, fire snapping and crackling toward Aang faster than he could keep track of. Aang's eyes widened. He tried to dodge, but there was simply too much fire to avoid. He Airbent a shield of sorts, but it wasn’t enough.

The fire knocked him off balance and he slammed back against the rock, a stream of fire dancing across his shoulder. It barely hurt, but Aang knew that was only because of the adrenaline currently pumping through his bloodstream. After the battle – if he survived, that is – the burn would be painful.

But Aang was in too much trouble to even consider the future. Ozai was bearing down on him, scorching hot flames trailing from his mouth and sparking from his fingertips. Aang flipped open his glider and leapt into the air, but Ozai was quicker, shooting a fire bolt directly through the glider's wing.

Aang spiraled down, his glider out of control, and he had to let go, bending a cushion of air to break his fall.

This was not good. Without the Avatar state, there was no way he could beat Ozai. The comet strengthened Firebending, but fire was Aang’s worst element, and even with the secret of the Sun Warriors, he wasn't strong enough.

Desperation settled over Aang, and he scurried backward, away from Ozai, who was advancing with a feral grin on his face. He had to do something, but what?

He thought of Katara. He thought of her rejection, of the way she looked at Zuko, of the way she had first looked at him all those months ago when he had first woken up.

In order to unlock the Avatar state, he had to let her go, didn’t he? Well, what if she had never been his in the first place? Maybe all he had to do was realize that, and let… her… go…

Something clicked into place, something that felt right.

His eyes began to glow, and for the first time, he saw something other than triumph or rage on Ozai’s face, something that looked like surprise, with maybe just a hint of fear. Good. Let him fear.

Aang rose into the air, circles of the elements floating around him: chunks of rock, a stream of water, whirling fire, a vortex of air, all focused on the Phoenix King.

He raised his arms, batting away the plumes of fire that Ozai shot at him with almost ridiculous ease, bending columns of rock from the ground beneath him to secure Ozai’s hands and feet, anchoring him to the earth. He was ready to call to the golden lines of pure energy that he knew were writhing under Ozai’s skin. It would be simple; he was sure he could do it, was sure that he could end all their pain and suffering right here and now.

Ozai stared up at him, his eyes deep pools of fear. It was almost enough to make Aang pity him, but not quite.

He closed his eyes and called to the light, to the energy flowing through Ozai’s veins. He felt it, the warm, inviting hum that sang such a sweet song, and…

He had promised. He had sworn that he would never use the power again. Who was he if he broke that promise?

Aang lowered his hands. The fire and air dissipated from around him, the chucks of earth fell to the ground with heavy thunks, and the water splashed beside them.

Ozai blinked at him in surprise, gaze filled with a confusion only found in those who never hesitate to kill.

But Aang couldn’t. He just couldn’t. He couldn’t break his promise to never use Energybending, and he couldn’t kill Ozai.

So what was left? What options did he have?

“What,” Ozai growled. “Not going to finish me off while you have the chance?”

Aang shook his head, not meeting Ozai’s fierce glare. Maybe his friends had taken care of everything else, and leaving Ozai wouldn’t complicate things at all. Maybe the Fire Nation armies had been taken care of, and he didn’t need to kill Ozai after all. Maybe…

He couldn’t take away Ozai’s bending with Energybending, and he couldn’t kill him, so there was nothing else he could do. He wasn’t strong enough to do anything else.

Aang didn’t ask for this. He was just a kid who had tried to grow up into what the world needed him to be. A kid who had tried… And who had failed. Everything he and his friends had gone through, every struggle and every brush with death, for what? It was worth nothing. In the end, it hadn’t mattered, and Aang, Avatar Aang, had failed.

No. He was no Avatar. He wasn’t anything. All he was, everything he had tried to be, had fallen apart, and he was simply Aang. Aang, who had failed. Aang, who couldn’t do anything but run. Run and run and run and hope that one day, he’d run so far that’d he’d forget why he was running in the first place.

“You can’t do it, can you?” Ozai said, taunting laughter dancing in his eyes. “And to think, the world depended on you.”

Scooping up his battered glider, Aang turned his back on Ozai and bent an airstream, lopsidedly flying away from Ozai, even though the twisting knot in his stomach told him that this was a mistake, that he needed to turn back.

He didn’t. He closed his eyes to the fires below him, blocking out the battle cries and screams of pain, blocking out everything except for the wind.

Avatar Aang flew away, with no direction save for away, and the world burned behind him.

Chapter Text

Zuko woke to darkness. But the strangest part wasn’t the lack of light, it was the sense of calm that permeated the air. It was foolish, he knew that. The world wasn’t peaceful. The world was in shambles, falling apart at the seams.

But still, no matter how wrong it seemed, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that the peace was a facade, he was calm and his mind was still.

Why, the darkness was wonderful. He could stay here forever, floating in nothing, and never regret.

Regret what? Memories scattered, drifting away, leaving only a dull sense of remembrance that fled the moment he reached for it, slipping through his fingers. That was all right. He was peaceful. Whoever he had been, it didn’t matter anymore. Not when he had the darkness and the peace all to himself.

In the distance, a pinprick of light appeared, standing out against the backdrop of inky darkness. He smiled. The light practically exuded joy. Where the darkness was calm, the light was motion, excitement.

The light grew larger, and through the bright glow, he could see trees, vines, grass, a vibrant blue sky, a picturesque jungle scene.

His smile grew. He was going there, to that beautiful place. Was he dead? Did it matter? The light was calling, and he rushed for it, stretching out a hand.

The darkness around him tightened, solidifying around him and stopping his movement. He struggled, reaching, reaching for the light, but the darkness would not let him go.

“You can’t go quite yet,” voices, hundreds of them, said quietly, the words echoing around the empty void. “You have so much more to live for, and so much more to give.”

He wanted to protest. He wanted to tell them to let him go. But before he could, an image flashed through his mind – a girl, about his age, long brown hair incredibly frizzy, deep blue eyes alight with joy, kind smile directed at him. She was beautiful.

He turned back to the light, at the scene beyond, and somehow, it didn’t seem as appealing as it had before.

More images, another girl, young, with a confident smirk etched into her face, misty eyes staring at him challengingly. A boy, lopsided grin endearing and quite stupid. An old man, laugh lines and all, gazing at him with pride filling his face.

“Go back,” the voices said, not unkindly. “Go back to them.”

And he did.

Chapter Text

I didn’t mean for it to go like this. I didn’t mean to hurt them, any of them. I know I’ll be written down in history books as a monster, but I just wanted to help people. That’s all. The only problem was that I wasn’t strong enough. I wasn’t strong enough, and the world paid the price. It’s too late now, but I wish… Well, I wish a lot of things. Too bad wishes can’t change the past.

***

Katara had always had hope. Hope in the Avatar, hope in the goodness of humanity, hope in the idea that everything would turn out well in the end. Sometimes, hope was all she had, and now, it was slipping through her fingers, melting away like salt under rain.

Her life was in pieces, scattered around her, each piece fractured and broken. Aang, vanished, either dead or gone. Dad, still missing, a prisoner of war, if he was even still alive. Zuko, nearly dead from a lightning bolt to the chest, and in pain more often than not. Toph, her feet burned so badly so she couldn’t even walk, let alone see. And Sokka. Oh, Sokka. He was a twisted shadow of the person he was before, his thoughts consumed by rage and anger.

And as for her? Well, she was desperately searching for reasons to hope, only to come out empty handed.

Hope was gone. All that was left were broken people scrambling to stay alive in a world that burned those who dared to believe that life could be more.

“Katara?”

She looked up. Zuko was standing there, his chest bare, save the many bandages wrapped around his torso. He was holding a blanket, which he held out to her, offering her a sad smile.

“I thought you might be cold.”

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the blanket. She was cold, actually. The underground tunnels where they had been hiding for the last few weeks were cold most of the time, and freezing the rest. There was no way to tell if it were night or day aboveground, and it was far too dangerous to go out into the city.

Even Omashu, the last of the free cities, wasn’t safe. Starving people fought tooth and nail for food, and anyone traveling alone could count on getting ambushed and robbed.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, dragging herself out of her thoughts.

Zuko shrugged, sliding against the wall to sit beside her, so close she could feel the heat radiating off his body. “Fine, I suppose.”

Katara glanced at the bandages wrapped around his chest. She knew what horrors lay underneath. A jagged scar, still fresh and tender in the center, that spread out from his heart like a creeping vine, reaching nearly all the way to his shoulders and neck.

He had nearly died. If she had been one minute later, he would have died.

“How did everything go so wrong?” She whispered, her voice swallowed up by the dark tunnel that was lit only by a lantern hung every few feet.

Zuko only shrugged once more, resting his head back against the wall.

They fell into silence. Katara unfolded the blanket, tucking it around herself, then paused. “Would you…?” She asked, holding up one edge of the blanket.

“Sure,” Zuko said, and Katara tossed the blanket over him, his warmth immediately beginning to warm the scratchy material.

Minutes passed, and Katara found herself nearly falling asleep. It had been a long few weeks, and she was exhausted.

“I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault,” Zuko said softly, and she blinked.

“What?”

“It has to be my fault. If I had just joined you and Aang earlier, I could have taught him Firebending sooner. And then, well, maybe then he could have stood a chance against my father.”

“Zuko, no.” She shifted to look at him, and saw with mild horror that tears had collected in the corners of his eyes. “It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself. Please.”

“But I–”

“Don’t.”

But Zuko was apparently determined to be stubborn. “Katara, I–”

Katara raised one hand and pressed her pointer finger to Zuko’s lips, effectively shutting him up. “Please don’t,” she said, heat racing through her finger to her hand and down her arm. “It won’t help anything.”

Zuko stared at her, amber eyes reflecting the lantern light. He stayed quiet, and Katara dropped her hand, her fingers still tingling with prickles of heat.

“We move forward,” she continued. “We move forward and we never stop fighting.”

“Well, I’m good at that,” Zuko said, his lips twitching upward.

Tui, was he always this handsome?

Shadows from the lanterns danced across his face, and his face looked softer, somehow. Kind. Before, she had always pictured his face twisted in a vicious scowl, anger lining every part of his face and his eyes alight with cruelty. Now, though, when she pictured his face, all she could see was his gentle heart and courage. For all his harsh appearance, with the brutal scar stretching over his face, he really was a soft turtle-duck at heart.

“Do you truly believe that things will turn out alright?” He asked, and she caught the barest glimmer of hope flash in his eyes.

Before she had a chance to stop and think about what she was doing, Katara was leaning toward him, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder. He was so warm.

He stiffened, and Katara’s teenage brain registered that yes, she had just done that. Cheeks flushing, she began to pull away, but Zuko’s strong arms wrapped around her before she could, and she slowly relaxed, letting the tension bleed out of her body.

“Yes,” she said, resting her head back against his chest. “I do. I believe things will be alright.”

***

There were many times in her childhood that Toph had felt helpless, out of control. But none of those times even came close to how helpless she felt now. It was worse, even, then when she hadn’t known how to sense with her bending. At least back then, she hadn’t known what power tasted like, what freedom tasted like.

And now that she had gotten a taste, well, now it hurt more than ever before.

“And what about with Katara’s healing?” She asked again, trying as hard as she could to keep the pleading out of her voice. It didn’t work, but Iroh was kind enough not to mention it.

“I’m sorry, Toph, it will take time for the scar tissue to heal enough for you to use bending with your feet.”

She had already known the answer, but she kept hoping that maybe…

“Well it’s dumb,” She said, slumping against the back of the chair and crossing her arms tightly over her chest, hoping desperately that the moody anger would help her keep the tears at bay.

Iroh sighed, and Toph heard the trickling of tea being poured from the pot into a cup. “Would you like some?” He asked, his tone carefully neutral, which Toph was grateful for, not that she would have ever told him that. In the three weeks since her feet had been burned, everyone treated her like some kind of breakable ornament.

It was like they were careful to tread around her, like the slightest misstep would cause her to shatter into a thousand pieces. It was awful.

Toph shrugged, and heard the sound of a teacup scraping against the wood of the table.

“If you want it,” Iroh said.

Toph glared, even though she couldn’t sense anything to glare at. “I don’t need your help.”

Iroh didn’t respond, and Toph sat up, sharp pain stabbing all along the bottom of her feet and all the way to halfway up her legs. “I don’t need your help!” She screamed, sweeping her arm in a messy arc toward where she thought the table was. Empty air. “I don’t!”

And then she was crying, rivers of weakness flowing freely down her face.

“Toph,” Iroh said, his voice so full of compassion it made her want to scream, shout, and tear her hair out. “Asking for help isn’t weakness.”

“I don’t… need… your help!” Toph choked out between sobs, her hands clenched into fists. “Just go!”

“I don’t think that will help you as much as you think it will.”

Toph screamed, a wordless cry of pain, loss, and rage.

“Very well.” And maybe it was her imagination, but it sounded like his voice held as much pain as she was in. “Remember, Toph, my door is always open to you. Always. Always.” The sound of the closing door, and Toph screamed, flinging her arm out once more, which connected with the teacup and sent it flying into the air. It smashed into the ground, like the weak, fragile, pathetic ceramic it was. Tea soaked Toph’s sleeve, but she barely noticed.

She was not weak. She was the Blind Bandit, the most powerful Earthbender in the world. She would not be beaten by scar tissue on her feet. She did not need help, she could handle it all. She had to. Otherwise, what was she?

***

“This is not the way things have to be!”

The gathered crowd was small, only five people, with several more hanging around the edges of the square, lurking in the shadows, ready to bolt at the first signs of trouble. It wasn’t many, but it was a start, at least.

“Who are you to make things right?” One of the people, a middle-aged man with a scar cutting across his nose, said with a scowl. “Who are you to succeed when the Avatar failed?”

Ty Lee sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I’m someone who knows that this,” she gestured to the city square, to the dark, boarded up storefronts, the dirty, grimy street cobblestones, the many propaganda signs posted by the Fire Lord’s troops. “That this isn’t right.”

The man with the scar laughed. “And how do you propose we make things right?”

Staring down at the man with the scar, Ty Lee clenched her hands into fists, summoning every last drop of her ocean of anger. “We fight.”

“Fight?” A young woman, who couldn’t have been much older than Ty Lee herself, said, more sarcastic than anything. “We can’t fight the Fire Lord. No one can.”

“You’re right.”

The crowd of five muttered to themselves. Apparently this wasn’t what they had expected her to say.

“We can’t fight alone,” Ty Lee continued. “We stand no chance, unless we band together. Unless we can pull together and revolt, nothing will get better, it will only get worse, and worse, and worse. We must stand together.”

“Revolt?” Now the man with the scar wasn’t the only one laughing. “And who will be our leader for this ‘oh great and wonderful revolution?’ You?”

Ty Lee shook her head. “No. The Fire Lord’s son, Zuko, will come to take the throne and lead the Fire Nation into a new era of peace!”

“Zuko? The banished prince? The weakling?”

“Yes.”

The already tiny crowd began to disperse, the lurkers along the outside slinking away, like dogs with their tails tucked between their legs.

“Accept it,” The young woman said, shaking her head sadly and turning away. “This is the way things are now. It’s not a good idea to let yourself hope.”

“No! Hope is all we have left!”

The young woman just stared at her pityingly. “Go home. This is the way things are.”

“Wait!” Ty Lee called, but the young woman was already gone, and the rest of the crowd had already disappeared. Ty Lee sighed, slumping to sit against one of the dingy walls. Was this really it? Was this the only thing left for them? Was there nothing better, nothing beside death and war?

“I’m sorry, Mai,” she whispered. “I’m not doing a very good job of honoring you.”

Everything was falling to pieces. Mai was gone. Azula had turned into something so dark and twisted, Ty Lee could nearly sense her pitch black aura from here. Her old life was dead, burned in the comet’s flames, and she had risen from the flames, not with grace and power like the phoenix of legend, but with smoke in her lungs and a charred hope.

Still, she had survived.

Slowly, wearily, she picked herself up.