Whimpers and Screams

Suki and Sokka

"I never get to see you." Sokka extended his arm. His fingers just brushed against Suki's hair. He was afraid to initiate more substantial contact. "The war has been over for three years now and I don't think we've spent more than two days together at one time."

"Oh, and that's somehow my fault?" Blue green eyes resembled the turbulent autumnal sea that surrounded Kyoshi Island. Suki crossed her arms tight over her chest, closing herself off.

"No, well, we need to settle on one place."

"And that should be the South Pole of course, not Kyoshi Island, because you're the man and your work is more important. Do I have that right?"

Sokka snapped and his eyes blazed. "I never said that. Of course the warriors are important. I know how much they mean to you." He paused then, taking a few deep breaths in an effort to calm his crazily beating heart and gather his thoughts. "There will be children. You'll be busy with them."

Suki's features looked as though they were clay being worked by an artist's hands. Her expression changed from joy at the thought of having children with Sokka and anger at his insistence that said children would be her sole responsibility. Or was she divining more from his words than he really meant?

"Any children we might have will be your responsibility too, Sokka."

"I know, but the mother…." He trailed off weakly, unsure how to express his feelings. Everything came out wrong and made Suki angry. "Look, I just want a home for us. Is that too much to ask for?" He implored her to see reason.

"I want that too; why can't we have two homes and divide our time?" Suki felt tears coming. She scrunched her eyes shut tight, forcing the dampness away. "It could work, Sokka. Your father will help and my second in command can take over some of my duties. We need to do something or this," she loosened her arms and made a sweeping gesture, "can't work." Her eyes were clear now and full of affection. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she added, "And I want it to work. We're worth the effort."

"Yeah," Sokka agreed. "We are."

~~~~0000~~~~

Aang and Katara

Katara rubbed at her temples. She could feel a headache approaching, relentless as a hungry shark. The sun shone bold and bright in the sky, its rays reflecting off the white of the ice, almost blinding her and anyone else who ventured outside the small ice homes that now populated the South Pole.

Aang should have been back two hours earlier. He'd taken some of the children penguin sledding, a sweet gesture, one that Katara approved of, but as he often did, Aang let childish fun override his sense of duty.

"Come on," she muttered to herself. "The meeting is about to start."

Shielding her sky blue eyes, the waterbender peered into the distance. No blue parkas and no orange or yellow cloaks dotted the horizon. Her boyfriend, the Avatar would be late. Sighing, she kicked at a chunk of ice and headed back to the meeting hall.

"Where's Aang?" Hakoda sensed something amiss. He tilted his head and examined his daughter closely. "Is everything all right, Katara?"

"No," she snapped back. "It isn't. Aang is such a child."

The Southern Water Tribe chief laughed. "Yes, well, he's only thirteen."

She glared at her father, and then feeling guilty, softened her gaze. "He's the Avatar. People expect certain things from him. I expect certain things."

"Go easy on him; he's been through a lot."

"Haven't we all," she retorted. Her voice was laced with bitterness and a sharp pang of sorrow cut deep into her heart, deeper than any blade ever could.

"Hakoda, we're ready." Bato beckoned the man inside. "Where's the Avatar?"

The chief shrugged the question off. "We'll get started without him."

After several minutes, during which she paced the perimeter of the building over and over, Katara spotted Aang along with the children he had taken on his little escapade. The young woman kept quiet as he shooed the kids along home.

In her most accusing tone and that was impressively accusing, she declared, "You're late."

Aang stared about, shifty eyed. When he gathered the courage to meet his girlfriend's stare his words were simple. "We were having fun."

"This isn't about fun, Aang. It's about meeting expectations and doing your job and taking responsibility." She huffed. "You are so immature sometimes that I want to scream."

Huge grey eyes mirrored the hurt that Aang felt inside. "I know all about responsibility, Katara. I helped end the war, remember? I defeated Ozai and figured out how to take his bending away. Sure, I can be silly sometimes, but I like to have fun. I can't be serious all the time. I just can't. The rest of the Avatars didn't learn about who they were until they were sixteen. That's three years away for me. I'm trying my best, Katara."

He brushed by her and entered the building. Katara heard his voice from outside, listened to his words, wise for someone so young and decided that perhaps her father was right. Soon enough he would be a man and all the pressures that went along with that would be heaped upon his already laden shoulders.

"Next time you have fun, I'll join you," she offered during a quiet dinner later. "I could use some."

~~~~0000~~~~

Mai and Zuko

Mai strode out of Zuko's office, her back stiff and her face a stern mask. Once out in the corridor, she slumped against the cool stone of the wall, trembling with rage and frustration. A servant glided by, averting her eyes, pretending that she did not see the Fire Lord's fiancée defeated looking and ready to weep.

The raven haired woman clenched her fists, pounding them against the wall in a slow, steady rhythm. When some of her anger had dissipated, she smoothed down her robe and headed toward her training room. Once inside she shut the door and locked it. Her blades, cool and smooth against pale skin, sang their tantalizing song, and she reached for them, throwing each in succession, sure and steady and skilled.

The target's center was peppered with steel. Mai removed her blades and repeated the routine, finding solace in the act, so long a part of her life, something that was hers and hers alone.

She expected the knock on the door and she ignored it. When knocking became pounding and Zuko's panicked voice accompanied it, she sighed and slid back the lock.

"I was worried," the Fire Lord exclaimed when he burst inside.

His face was flushed. Mai saw the anger in his eyes, the stress and fatigue too. Behind it all love resided, intense and powerful. Mai wondered if love was enough.

"Too bad." Her words were nonchalant and her tone bored, so very bored. "Don't you have a meeting to attend or something equally dull?"

"Yes, but I needed to see you first." Zuko approached his lover with caution. "I get why you're upset."

"Yeah, but you never change anything. You let me help, but only so much. The rest is all on you and it's too much for ten men. How can you possibly hope to deal with it all and maintain any kind of a personal life or your sanity? How can you hope to make a life with me?" Mai fiddled with one of her knives, twisting and turning it in her grip. She stared down at the floor, so shiny that her reflection stared back up at her. Not liking what she saw, Mai closed her eyes.

Zuko's voice cracked. "Honestly, Mai, I don't know."

Truthfulness was one thing Mai could count on from Zuko. Whether he confessed all his troubles and dilemmas to her, she wasn't so sure. She had a strong feeling that Zuko wanted to spare her some of the weight. But she didn't need protection. Mai was strong. She could handle it and she could help. And she could find others to help more. Why did he insist on being an idiot?

"I do; you can't. There's no time. It's all papers to sign and documents to read and puerile demands from little men who pretend more importance than they really have. It's meeting after meeting and negotiation after negotiation and trip after trip. And it's exhaustion. You have nothing left, Zuko."

"What do I do? I can't lose you, Mai. I won't lose you." The Fire Lord pulled out his diadem and undid his topknot. He dragged a shaking hand through his brown hair before sliding to the floor. "I'm so tired. I could sleep for a year." He stared up at Mai and with a sly expression added, "as long as you were in the bed too."

Smirking, Mai slid down beside him. "Let me schedule things for you. Let me be the go between. It's the only way, Zuko. Are you willing to let go of some of it?" She leaned her head on his shoulder and let her hand creep across his thigh.

"I'll try…"

"No, that's not good enough."

"Yes, I'm willing."

"Much better; now, close your eyes and rest. It's all right. The world won't end."

Zuko's gentle snoring was the sweetest melody Mai had heard in months.

~~~~0000~~~~

A/N: I'm writing everything but what I should be writing: "Interface". That is slow going and I'm not sure why.

Anyway, this bit popped into my head and I figured some writing was better than no writing. Maybe I can get back into the swing of things now.

The title is an unintentional homage to Ingmar Bergman's 'Cries and Whispers'.