Disclaimer: Sokka and Toph © Nickelodeon. This fic belongs to me.
Author's Notes: Once upon a time, I fell in love with Sukka. I've been in love ever since. But I decided to branch out and reminisce a little to my old Tokkaneer days—way back in the Dark Ages when I shipped Toph/Sokka. So here we go; a blast from the past.
You Are
Toph didn't have to see to know where Sokka was.
There was only one place in the entire palace, the giant, magnificent complex where he could possibly be. Vibrations echoed up from the cellar and out of large wooden doors where the wind howled across open spaces; massive pillars arched far above her head, creating a megaplex of echoes and vibrations and deafening white noise that would bother no one except her. Soft green eyes glared at the vaulted ceiling as roughened feet padded through the wide stone hallways.
There he was, a small room where the wind blew the curtains softly, and all that she could hear was his steady heartbeat and soft breaths of air.
She knelt beside him and swept her empty gaze over the stone monument. It was small; not more than a foot tall. But there were two sparking candles beside it and what she could only assume was a painting of someone at the top. Rose petals were scattered all over.
The girl gripped the slim piece of metal in his hands. "You still miss her, don't you."
There was a droplet of moisture on her hand, and his voice quavered uncertainly. "Yes. I do." Warm fingers slid over her tiny ones. She was surprised because she could feel them trembling as they clutched her and the metal fan beneath her. She tried to let go, to let him go, but he held on. I want you here.
His heartbeat was thumping erratically. Soft pulses, then hard beats, sonic vibrations shifting through the earth and meeting her fingertips.
You're sad.
--
He lay alone in bed behind his locked door, refusing to be comforted by anyone. No form of art or bending or magic water could take away the pain he felt deep inside of his heart. And she was never one to show too much emotion—other than aggravation and frustration at his blatant stupidity—but she was also never one to let down a troubled companion. There was a soft knocking at his door, but he did not let her in.
She knocked again, but he still neglected to answer.
Finally, she pulled back her foot and broke down the barrier between them, smiling just a little as he sat up in bed, thoroughly startled. The blind girl sat next to him, handicapped bender to under-educated southern warrior. A few moments and he lay back down, content to let her sit or lie next to him if she wished.
Her feet kicked just a few inches off the ground, but she didn't need the floor to hear his body talking to her. His respirations were slow, his lifeblood flowing lethargically through his veins. A sigh escaped his lips.
You're lonely.
--
Many months had passed, and he was finally ready and able to meet the outside world head-on. He apologized to Aang and Katara, Mai and Zuko, his other closest friends, and asked their forgiveness for his bull-headed behavior. He just needed some time alone.
They understood.
And things progressed fairly normally after that. All five of them had, surprisingly, decided to stick together in Ba Sing Se under Iroh's tea shop, still The Jasmine Dragon. Everyone had been surprised at the group's decision; they had all assumed that the group would split and go their separate ways, rule their separate countries. And though Zuko did make frequent month-long trips to the Fire Nation to assist in its rule, he always returned to Ba Sing Se so everyone could begin to live completely and together again.
She rested her bare feet on the table as she "watched" him, examined his every move and gesticulation. Though she was still fairly blind over wood, she had managed to hone her skills just enough so she could sense everyone around her. She couldn't sense objects or bend the earth beneath her quite yet, but it was a start.
The girl hid her blind eyes behind a veil of ebony bangs when she felt his body turn in her direction. She listened as he regaled the rest of the group with fantastically woven tales of his (and Katara's) life on the Arctic tundra before they found Aang. He also told the story of Water, before they needed an Earthbending teacher, and in between the times Zuko had tried to capture them.
Not only was he an inventor, a scientist, a tactician, a jokester, a father figure, a leader, a guardian, a brother figure… he was also a brilliant storyteller.
She heard his voice go up several octaves, then plunge back down, hands weaving about and heart beating fast but steadily, evenly, always the same.
You're happy.
--
He met her under the sun one day, watching as her face turned up to catch all of the burning star's warm and radiant energy. She sniffed as he sat down beside her. She didn't know what he was thinking, but whatever it was, it had to be important. His breaths were shorter than normal, and his heart was jumping slightly.
Only a little, though.
His touch was surprisingly gentle, but she could feel the callouses running over the top of her hand. Her head cocked, ankles crossed to prop her dirty feet up. His weight pressed against her side, and she forced herself to speak angrily to cover up the knot in her belly and the heat in her cheeks.
It didn't matter what she said, because her words were empty anyway. He didn't have to quiet her, because nothing important was being spoken. Just white noise. Something to make the horrible silence go away.
And suddenly, his hand was pressed forcefully against her chest. She cursed at him. "What are you doing?"
"Hush." She stayed silent as she felt his breathing slow down; he was concentrating. She imagined his icy blue orbs sliding shut, lips parted ever so slightly as he listened. Listened to her. Her heartbeat, her blood flow. He listened as her body talked to him.
After an eternity, he spoke to her again. "You're in love," he said, his usually awkwardly-cracking voice now low and uttered just for her.
She tried to shrug. "No. I'm not." He gave a ridiculous indignant noise; what an obvious denial. He heard what she really said. A body never lies; a heartbeat can't be fooled.
"You're in love," the warrior repeated, "and that's OK."
His cheek rested against the top of her head. She slipped her arm through his lanky, wiry one. "So what if I am."
"It's obvious."
She tried to smirk at him. "My only regret is teaching you that technique."
He laughed. "No, I'm glad you did. Now I can see what you are."
…And surprisingly, she was OK with that.