Two weeks in a Virginia jail
For my lover, for my lover
Twenty thousand dollar bail
For my lover, for my lover
And everybody thinks
That I'm the fool
But they don't get
Any love from you
The things we won't do for love
I'd climb a mountain if I had to
And risk my life so I could have you
You, you, you...
Everyday I'm psychoanalyzed
For my lover, for my lover
They dope me up and I tell 'em lies
For my lover, for my lover
I follow my heart
And leave my head to ponder
Deep in this love
No man can shake
I follow my heart
And leave my mind to wonder
Is this love worth
The sacrifices I make?
He was so wrapped up in her that he didn't see the coup coming until it was too late. War Minister Qin had blindsided him whilst his attention was elsewhere and there had been little he could do. For two weeks he'd been locked in Boiling Rock, drugged and interrogated every day. They were trying to break him, to make him forget her, but they were fighting a losing battle.
The first few days were hard. The drugs took their toll, left him muzzy headed and confused, but by the third day he'd figured out how to store the pills under his tongue and dispose of them later. He wasn't sure it improved things much but at least he was aware of what was going on. He'd never escape if he was doped up all the time.
It was at night that he most regretted his clear head, though, as he had hours of darkness in which to torment himself, to agonise over his choices, until sleep came and with it the nightmares...
The coup was in full swing - Qin had planned it well and it was swift. The people, it seemed, had been all too easy to turn against him and he didn't stand a chance against their vast numbers. They were barricaded in the main hall and had managed to hold the attack off for a while. The revolutionists had retreated to regroup and remount their offensive, leaving Uncle Iroh, Katara and himself to try and figure out what had happened.
"What on Earth do we do?" Zuko wondered aloud, pacing the room in his agitation.
"It's a revolt. We have to get out of here," Iroh was as calm and collected as ever.
"No, Uncle. We'll never all make it out unharmed."
"Then what do you suggest?"
"Zuko?" Katara's voice was higher than usual with concern. She grasped him by the arms to still his pacing and he was surprised to see she was on the verge of hysteria. "Zuko, what do we do?"
"It's ok," he pulled her close and held her tight. "We've been in tighter scrapes than this." He smiled at her, a smile that was once so rare but that she'd gotten all too used to seeing over the past few months.
"There are so many of them!" Her lower lip trembled in an uncharacteristic show of weakness and he kissed her briefly to still it.
"Hey! Hey!" He whispered. "It's alright. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, I promise." His hand slid protectively to her stomach, covering her own which was already resting there.
He knew Iroh was eyeing them suspiciously but he didn't care. He held her tightly, breathing in the coconut scent of her hair, knowing he may not see her again but not wanting to believe it. A resounding crash in the hallway brought him to his senses and he pulled away quickly.
"Lord Zuko, what would you have us do?" Iroh asked, watching the barricaded door warily.
"I can hold them off, just get out of here."
"Zuko! No! I'm not leaving you."
"You must," he whispered. "But it's not forever... I promise you that. Uncle, can you get Katara somewhere safe?"
Iroh nodded. "But Zuko, I think between the three of us we can get out of here... I'm not called the Dragon of the West for nothing and Katara is hardly helpless..."
"It's too risky. Katara... Just please, get her somewhere safe."
"Zuko, I'm pregnant not dying! I can fight!" Katara fumed suddenly, ignoring the look of shock on Iroh's face. "I don't need babysitting. Uncle's right. We can get out of here! All of us!" It seemed her fear of losing him was greater than her fear for her unborn child.
Zuko grinned. Barely three months pregnant and her mood swings were already formidable. It had been their secret but now it seemed the cat was out of the bag. "Maybe," he answered, kissing her forehead. "But I'm not willing to risk your capture. I want you to get out of here unharmed and this is the best way to do it. I'll find you, I will. Don't worry about me."
As the door cracked ominously, Zuko nodded at his Uncle who swiftly scooped a struggling Katara up in a fireman's lift and left, smashing through a window. He saw the hem of Iroh's robe whip out of sight before slipping into an offensive stance and readying for battle.
With a jerk Zuko woke, simultaneously happy to be awake and miserable at his surroundings. The iron gray sky, barely visible through the bars of his cell window, told him there was still an hour until dawn. Groaning he rolled over and tried not think about the day of torture and lies that lay in store for him.
They started his day with a trip to the cooler. Now he could evade the drugs he could use his fire bending to deal with the cold but the solitude wasn't nearly so easy to handle. He tried meditating but his mind always wandered back to Katara and his Uncle, his concern for them eating away and making him crazy.
The relief that washes over him when the guard comes to take him to the interrogation room is fleeting. He's grateful to be taken away from himself, to have something else to think about, but not looking forward to the questions, to the lies he'll have to tell...
It took sixteen of them to capture him. They cornered him in the main hall and he could see no way out without causing serious harm to someone so he simply gave up. They bound his wrists and ankles and left him kneeling on the floor to wait for Qin. No one spoke - he'd expected gloating. It seemed they were all suitably afraid of Qin and he wondered if maybe the coup hadn't been as easy as he imagined. He sat there and waited, no idea what was going to happen to him. He stared at the floor, even as Qin entered the room, not wanting to meet his gaze and give anything away.
"Well?" Qin demanded. "Where are the others? The Water Tribe wench and your fat Uncle?"
Zuko was seething inside but was careful to show no emotion, to say nothing.
"I asked you a question!" Qin roared, slapping Zuko so hard across the face he knocked a tooth loose. "Where are they?"
"I don't know," Zuko replied truthfully, his once smoky voice thick with the blood pouring from his mouth.
Qin stared at him intently, looking for any signs of a lie. Apparently he could find none for he merely chuckled.
"Oh, would you look at what you've become Lord Zuko," he emphasised the 'Lord', mocking his prisoner. "All thanks to that peasant of yours." Still Zuko didn't respond, just spat blood on the ground to clear his throat. "You understand why I, why your people, couldn't let you disgrace our nation like that?"
"It's not Katara or I that have disgraced the Fire Nation," Zuko responded, allowing his gaze to flit to his captor, his voice as even as he could make it.
Qin sniggered. "You should watch your mouth. You aren't in the position to declare judgement on people," he said, his voice dangerously soft as he paced around Zuko. "Now, I'm feeling generous today so I'm going to make you an offer – one you'd be wise to accept. If you tell me where the Water Peasant and the traitor Iroh are then I will make sure each of you receives a fair trial for your crimes."
"Crimes?" Zuko snorted. "What crimes?"
"As the new Commander of the Fire Nation, elected by the people, my first act will be to ban inter-nation relationships. Anyone found to be in breach of this new law will be tried for treason."
Commander of the Fire Nation? Elected by the people? Treason? How had this happened? He let the reality of what he'd just heard sink in. This was absurd...
Zuko snapped back to reality as the guard marched him into the by-now-familiar interrogation room and shoved him onto a hard metal chair. As his wrists were bound behind his back he let his tongue trace the gap where his tooth had once been, careful to keep his face passive, his eyes blank, as he waited for the inevitable.
As usual the guard responsible for his interrogation was masked, his face completely hidden but for his eyes. It was always the same, nothing varied; the repetition was its own form of torture.
"Where's the Water Tribe peasant?" A fist slammed into the table.
"I-I don't know," he hated the stutter in his voice but they had to believe they'd broken him.
"And the traitor Uncle of yours?"
"He's no Uncle of mine," Zuko's heart wrenched as he spat out the words, but his face showed nothing but loathing. They had to believe if he was to bide his time and escape this torture.
"Let's start again."
Zuko closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Images of Katara, stomach swollen, floated before him and he had to catch the traitorous smile that had almost graced his lips. With a sigh he was ready...
Ready to renounce her again.