This is going to be a short little fic, only about five chapters long. There's not going to be much to it, but that's alright. I guess.

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender

The sound of footsteps is loud and hurts her ears. Everything is too loud, too bright on bad days and she wants to shove her head under her pillow when her head hurts. Before they had bound her arms and strapped on gloves that made her hands heavy, she had. But then she had a terrible day and the Nice Doctor had ordered them to strengthen her restraints.

The Nice Doctor wasn't really that nice, but she didn't lose her temper when Azula had bad days. On the terrible days-which weren't very often anymore-she would visit Azula's cell and try to calm her down. Nowadays, though, it was Azula who visited her. On good days, the Nice Doctor filed her nails and cut her hair so it wouldn't get tangled.

Despite all the nice things that the Nice Doctor did for her, Azula still hated her. She was stupid and ugly, and she had no idea how to treat a Fire Lord, the ruler of all things great and beautiful, above all but the Phoenix King. Azula wanted the Nice Doctor to die, and if they didn't bind her hands, she would have already killed her.

There were lots of other people who wanted the Nice Doctor dead, too. There was Kicking Girl, who wasn't so much older than Azula herself. The girl kicked at everything she saw and once she had kicked the Nice Doctor in the stomach so hard that she had to take a few days off. During that time, the Nice Doctor's assistant, Sakebi, had taken over the west wing. Azula hadn't liked Sakebi, and apparently the Kicking Girl hadn't either, because she had nearly snapped her neck when she tried to kick herself up the wall. They had taken her away.

In Kicking Girl's place, there was Whispering Soldier. He talked to the walls and held his arms as if he was cradling a baby all the time. Azula had heard that he had seen something awful being done to a baby and it had driven him mad. Sometimes he would scream for someone to help the child and when it was a bad day for him, even Azula could hear him shout: "What if that was your child!" He was still there, but they had intensified his treatment and given him a doll to hold in place of air.

Azula had learned all of this from the Nice Doctor, who talked to her like she was a real person on Azula's especially good days. She discussed things with Azula that she wouldn't even tell her own assistant. But really, Azula only wanted to choke her.

She wanted her to die.

After a moment, the door opened and in stepped Crooked Nose and Black Eyes. Azula hated them both. Crooked Nose was mean-mean and ugly-and when it was Medicine Time, he was always determined to make it a bad day. Black Eyes was a little better, she didn't try to force the whole cup of medicine down Azula's throat, but she still put her knees in her back and held Azula's head up when she tried to struggle.

It was Medicine Time.

Crooked Nose held the cup that contained Azula's medicine, keeping it away from his body. He had come again to force the liquid down her throat. It is thick and bitter, but sweet at the same time, and it clogged her throat when she tried to swallow too fast. Azula hated the liquid and she had told the Nice Doctor this, but she had only laughed and patted her hand. That was another reason why Azula hated her. "Azula," Said Crooked Nose, stepping toward her. "Are you going to cooperate today?"

No.

He stepped forward, holding the cup out to her. Azula shook her head vehemently, looking away. She did not want the disgusting medicine taking her appetite. She did not want the disgusting medicine on her tongue. It would make her sleepy and she did not want it at all.

"Come on, Azula," Black Eyes said gently, "If you take your medicine now, we won't have to bother you anymore. And you'll feel better. You want to feel better, don't you?" She looked towards Crooked Nose and moved around Azula, leaning forward to grab her arms if she tried to fight back.

Crooked Nose bent down and took Azula by the hair, pressing the hard edge of the cup against her teeth. Azula lashed out, but before the blow could connect, Black Eyes had wrenched her arms behind her back, dragging her into a sitting position. She screamed and flailed her feet, kicking Crooked Nose in the hand. The cup flew across the cell, splattering its contents over the floor. Crooked Nose cursed and rose to his full height, turning away from the girl.

"That's it, Kurai!" He fumed and Black Eyes loosened her hold on Azula's arms. "I've had enough with this girl!" He yanked open the cell door, "She's impossible to work with! I never wanted to work in this wing of the hospital anyway. From now on, Doctor Iyasu can take care of her own precious patient!"

Black Eyes scrambled after him as he slammed the door closed, leaving Azula in darkness yet again. She laughed at them through the door. She laughed until her face was red, and then she laughed between her gasps for breath. She laughed until she blue, then purple, and then until she had lost her breath.

And when she did so, she keeled over, falling face first onto the concrete floor. She stared blankly at the wall, her eyes glazed over. The medicine spread across the floor and her hair-having recently grown-spread about her head like a black halo. She rolled onto her back and lifted her eyes towards the concrete ceiling. The last time the Nice Doctor had visited, she had said that Azula would be well enough to move up to the better part of the hospital soon, but sometimes she lied. She had said that for the last two years but no one ever came to get Azula.

The Nice Doctor was annoyingly sweet and Azula loved her just as much as she hated her. She would sometimes say things along the lines of, "They haven't given up on you, you know." Before, Azula hadn't known who she was talking about. On the very good days, though, it made sense. They had given up on her, though. They had given up on her after three years of "interventions".

How many years had it been? Five? Yes, five years. Five long years. If her hands hadn't been bound, Azula would have looked at her hands. She stared at the ceiling and blinked slowly before heaving herself up into a sitting position, folding her legs underneath her and facing the door.

A long time ago, there used to be people standing there. There was a tall, thin, pale girl with black hair and a shorter girl with brown hair who watched her, frowning. There had been indifference in the pale girl's eyes and sympathy in the gaze of the short one. There was a boy-man- who was familiar and an old man with him, and Azula remembered hating them both. She remembered screaming at them and kicking until the Nice Doctor told them to go away. There had been a woman, too, with kind eyes and a soft voice that Azula would yell at. She came on the terrible days, when Azula didn't feel very good. Azula hated her the most. Really, she did.

The kind eyed woman reminded her of the Nice Doctor, in a way, but there was one thing that Azula knew for certain about the Nice Doctor. She was real. She was real and the kind eyed woman wasn't. Azula had seen the woman before, before she had been brought to this place, but she still hated her. She wasn't real, she couldn't touch her, couldn't understand her.

Then again, Azula didn't really understand anyone, anymore.

Azula ducked her head and focused on the pool of spilled medicine before closing her eyes. She wanted her hands unbound and she remembered a time when fire would come from her palms when she wished. She remembered a time when she could bend blue fire and everyone feared her, when her hands were bound. She remembered a time when she was dreadfully lonely, but she pulled that thought away as best as she could. The Nice Doctor told her to think of good things.

The Nice Doctor didn't know what she was talking about.

The room-cell- suddenly grew rather cold and Azula shivered. She opened her eyes again and caught sight of a shadow that wasn't hers, of the ends of a dark red robe. Azula looked up and for a brief moment, she is caught in a world of gold silk and red linen, where a woman is sitting on a bed with a young boy-Azula remembered hating that boy-holding him close and in the corner, where the shadows of the door meet the wall, is a little girl who balanced a tiny flame in her hand, watching the two. Azula decided that she hated seeing this world, where the little lonely girl has no one to turn to. And she blinked.

"Azula." There was a voice, an achingly familiar voice, and Azula whimpered as she straightened. The woman! There was the woman standing before her, her eyes kind and sad, and loving. Her hair, graying but still beautiful, was pulled high on top of her head and she held out her lovely hands towards Azula. "Please look at me."

Azula squeezed her eyes shut. "Shut up." She growled and twisted her head away. "Shut up, shut up, shut up! Go back to where you came from! I don't want you here!" She wanted to be alone, until the Nice Doctor came and patted her shoulder, and whispered lies to her. Azula knew they were lies. She knew it all was a lie.

The woman took Azula's face in her hands and turned it gently to see her squinted eyes. "Azula, you need me here. Give me your hand, Azula." She whispered and Azula growled as she moved her wrists. Her eyes widened in surprise and alarm. The manacles had fallen away, freeing her hands of the gloves as well. Her hands were free.

Free.

Azula sprang then, and grabbed the woman by her shoulders, forcing her back. She laughed as she did so, because she was free and the woman had landed in the puddle of spilled medicine, dirtying her robes. She laughed until she lost her breath as she held the woman by her throat, staring into her endless golden eyes.

But the woman wasn't moving, wasn't gasping for breath, or even blinking. She lay there and allowed Azula to choke her, or at least try to, and did not move or flinch. Azula's laugh faded and then she began to frown, loosening her fingers. Why wasn't she screaming? Why wasn't she calling for help?

Why wasn't she real?

Then, things began to shift and change. They took on a blurry look and Azula pulled away from the woman, rubbing her eyes with her newly freed hands. The first thing she noticed was that the woman's robe was becoming less red, less red and more gray. The walls around Azula began to bleed their color, changing into a soft white color and began to morph until they were long and thin, arching high above her head and curving over to form a canopy.

What was going on?

The walls became trees, only they were black and white, and the woman's robe almost blended with her skin. Her hair became white, outlined by thick black lines, and Azula shrank back. Azula shrank back and began to scream, shaking her head. She was very afraid; she was scared and more frightened than she had even been before. She put her hands on the ground and discovered that it was made of grass, white grass that was disturbingly soft.

She began to scream and suddenly she felt very small.

So small.

And she cried.

She cried and held her head in her hands, gasping and sobbing. She was reminded of a time when the sky was red and the boy that she hated was standing over her with a blue eyed girl, watching emotionlessly as she begged for help. Her hands and been bound then, and Azula looked at them. They were still free, but they were gray. Her skin was gray, devoid of all color like the world around her.

Everything was black and white, now, but she was gray. What kind of place was this?

Something snapped behind her and Azula pushed herself to her feet. Things were black and white, but suddenly they were very clear. They were clearer than they had been in a while and she was suddenly aware of who she was, and what she had been. She wasn't in her cell anymore; she was in a forest devoid of all color except for black and white, and gray.

But she was no long afraid, despite of the strange sounds around her. She was no longer afraid as she turned to face the sound, clenching her fists. The shadows behind her were thick, though, and Azula narrowed her eyes to see through the darkness. Something moved.

And before Azula could move, the thing charged through the shadows towards her. It was a beast, she saw, with a single long horn atop its head. It, too, was a dark shade of gray, but Azula had no time to focus on it before it rammed into her, lifting her off of her feet and throwing her forcefully to the side.

'I've waited a long time for you, Liar.' The beast growled, much to Azula's surprise, as it moved towards her and Azula couldn't help but whimper. It was an animal, with four legs and the gaping mouth of a tiger set in a fox's face. It moved towards her, lashing its tail and dropping its head to spear her with its horn. 'You're finally here.'

Where was here?

There was no time to ask, though, as the beast charged towards her. Azula gasped and rolled out of the way, pulling her knees up to her chest. The animal lunged again, its jaws open. Azula kicked out and struck the animal in the head, scrambling out of reach. She panted, for she was afraid, as she hauled herself to her feet, facing the beast and looking into its pitch black eyes.

"What are you? How do you know me? Where am I?" She asked and the animal seemed to smile at her, its tongue lolling from the side of its mouth and its horn glittering. Azula stared at the beast, trying to put a name to it, but she could think of none.

The animal sat and stretched out, watching Azula with its emotionless eyes. 'I am the giver of justice for those who lie. You may call me Xiezhi. I know every liar by name and I shall give them justice when their time comes.' It blinked slowly, 'You are everywhere. You are nowhere. You are where all there has been and where all there ever will be meet. It is the Spirit World.'

Azula looked about, lifting her head. She saw nothing but huge tree trunks and the sky was hidden by a thick canopy of black and white leaves. "There's no color here. Why? Why am I here?" She demanded and narrowed her eyes at the beast, Xiezhi.

'There was once color here.' Xiezhi explained, 'But is has been stolen. There is discord rising in the Spirit World, and a savior is needed why there is yet hope. You've been chosen, Young One who Lies, to save the Spirit World. You have something that the Avatar does not, and you have been summoned.'

"I don't understand." Azula said and Xiezhi sprang to its feet, shaking its fur.

'You are not meant to understand. Only do.' It turned and padded away, looking over its shoulder at Azula as if it meant for her to follow. 'Come, Young One, we must hurry.' It bared its teeth and Azula followed tentatively, for she feared the beast and she didn't want to be alone.

She wanted to be back in her little cell, waiting for the Nice Doctor. She wanted to wait for the boy she hated, so she could scream at him like she always did, and she wanted to be back where things made sense. But things never made sense, anymore. They never had.

She had no choice but to follow, and she did. The world around her was black and white, and she stumbled as she trailed after the fox-like beast. Someone, Xiezhi had told her, had stolen the color from the Spirit World. She had to get it back because the Avatar couldn't.

Azula remembered the Avatar. The Avatar had been a boy-an airbender- and she had killed him, but he had risen from the dead to face the Phoenix King. Her father. She remembered that, now. The Phoenix King was her father, who had taught her all she had known. She smiled at that. She had loved her father. His name, she remembered, was Ozai. Her brother had been Zuko. She hated Zuko.

Azula also fleetingly remembered a time when there had been a woman and a younger man with them as well, but as soon as their faces appeared, they were gone. She remembered that the younger man had been particularly kind and had held his hand out to her, showing her a tiny ball of flame.

Turning her hand over, Azula looked at her own palm and tried to summon the same golden flame from her brief memory. A firebender. That's what she was. She was a firebender. Or had been. Not anymore. And she pushed the thought aside, then, moving quickly after Xiezhi who had disappeared into the shadows.

From the balcony of the Fire Nation palace, there was the cry of a messenger hawk, sitting patiently on the railing as it waited for someone to arrive and lift the burden of the letter from its back. It was a beautiful hawk, really, one of the prettier ones with golden feathers mixed around the standard red and brown. It squawked again and bounced on the railing, its golden feathers glistening in the brilliant Fire Nation sunlight. A calm zephyr rustled the plants set in pots on the balcony.

It was a beautiful day.

From inside the room that the balcony was adjoined to, there was the rustle of clothes as someone rose. A young woman appeared at the balcony, beautiful and soft with youth as she reached up to take hold of the bird, holding it to her chest. She was gentle and kind, smiling softly as she removed the letter from the messenger hawk's carrier and set the bird free once more.

The woman-really just a girl-walked back into the room, her light violet clothes rippling around her. She looked at the seal of the letter and furrowed her brow. The name sounded familiar to her, but she couldn't place where she had heard it before. Part of her-the nosy part of her - wanted to break the seal of the letter and read it, but it had not been addressed to her. The Fire Nation palace was not her home, nor did she live in the caldera. She was merely a guest to the Fire Lord, a diplomat to peace, and a constant friend, as she had been for five years.

"Look, Zuko," Katara said to her friend, who had been seated at a desk, facing a pile of scrolls that seemed to grow each hour. "You got a letter from the mental institution." As she said these words, the memory of the name came back to her. "The one that you sent Azula to." She said and her companion, whose face had been scrunched up in concentration rose to his feet, taking the letter from her hand.

There were only a few rehabilitation centers still in operation for the mentally ill, most had been established less than forty years ago. Fire Lord Zuko had sent his sister to the largest, which had been praised for its effective treatment of its patients. All of that had been five years ago, when she had finally cracked after years of bottling everything in. There hadn't been much news since then, not since he had stopped visiting. There had been the occasional update-she had slowly been getting better-but this letter seemed sudden and hastily put together.

Katara watched anxiously as Zuko opened the letter and began to read it, wrinkling his nose. The Water Tribe girl struggled to read his expression, trying to guess what the letter said. But Zuko's face was neutral, his lips a thin line, and his golden eyes betraying none of his thoughts.

"What's wrong?" Katara asked finally as Zuko let the letter fall to his feet. She knelt and scooped it up, scanning it with her eyes. According to what Azula's doctor, a kind woman named Iyasu, had hastily written, Azula had suffered a breakdown before falling into a catatonic state. Katara frowned. She didn't understand. Even though she didn't like Azula, the healer in her had wanted to see the firebender get better. "I don't understand."

Zuko had already moved away from her. "There's nothing to understand!" He said and glanced back over his shoulder to look at her. "Write a letter to Aang while I write to Uncle!" His said hurriedly and Katara paused, holding up her finger. But Zuko was already out of the room, trapped in his own state of thought. Katara would have preferred to write to Uncle instead.

She and Aang weren't exactly on the best of terms at the moment.

It was complicated, she thought, and it hurt her head to try to figure things out. He was still her boyfriend, but things just weren't making sense at the moment. But this wasn't about her, right now, this was about Zuko and about Azula, and she had to get into contact with Aang. He was in the Earth Kingdom-or he had been-while Toph was busy building her metalbending school. Sokka and Suki were on Kyoshi Island and Katara wondered if she should bother writing letters to all of her friends.

She didn't really see them anymore. They weren't Team Avatar, like they had been. They were on their own paths now. Katara sighed and went over to Zuko's desk, reaching for a small stack of parchment. It had been a long time since they had a reunion. It was the perfect opportunity.

"What do I have that the Avatar doesn't?" Azula asked as she walked alongside Xiezhi. It was hard to believe she was in the Spirit World. She didn't see any Spirits and she didn't hear any, either. She wondered if she could return home if she tried hard enough. Maybe if she looked for something unusual.

But everything was unusual in this place. The trees were gnarled and twisted, but never touching, and there was a stream that ran parallel to their path. Sometimes they crossed it, with Xiezhi leaping over it easily. Azula wasn't nearly as nimble, so she had to gather herself before she jumped. She had fallen in the first time and she was reminded of how she hated being dirty.

'You tell me.' Xiezhi said and rolled its eyes, lolling its tongue out again as if it was laughing. It looked up at Azula with its black eyes and Azula looked away, shrugging.

"I don't know." She said. "I don't know why I'm here."

Xiezhi growled and turned its gleaming horn at Azula, baring its savage teeth. 'Liar.' It snarled and unsheathed its claws, lashing its tail. 'You do know what you have and you do know why you are here. You just won't admit it yet. But you will. You will and then you will speak the truth.'

Azula wrinkled her nose as Xiezhi's hackles lowered and it brushed its tail by her leg. "How do I know you're not really going to kill me? How do I know that this isn't all a trick?" She asked and she thought she saw Xiezhi pause, but then the beast kept walking.

'It's not. Look into my eyes. A Spirit's soul rests behind its iris.' Xiezhi said, 'It is there where you can tell its intent.' The animal seemed to chuckle. 'Spirits don't like being kept in the dark. So they lie. And because they lie, I gore them. I suppose you do that as well, don't you, Young One who Lies? If you are ignorant of something, you pretend you know it, do you not?'

Azula paused before she replied and clenched her fists. "Not so long ago," She said quietly and Xiezhi looked up at her. "Not so long ago, I used to. But…not anymore." It wasn't a lie and Xiezhi didn't move to stab her, for she had contemplated her words and manipulated them so they were indeed the truth. She didn't think Xiezhi would have stabbed her anyway, but in this strange world, where everything was black and white, she couldn't be sure of anything.

Perhaps that was why she was gray.