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.”