A oneshot requested by Sunny Disposition based on the following criteria:

For: Sunny Disposition
Character: Zuko
Genre: Angst
Rating: T
About: Finding out what happened to his mom

Out There

"Where is my mother?"

Ozai doesn't give an answer. Every time the routine is the same, except this is different: you brought me here with you. He talks to you in circles for a few minutes. Most of it leads back to insulting and ridiculing you. You keep insisting. He grumbles something about an inaccessible island. You want more—another clue—anything. You know she's out there somewhere now. I have to pull you back.

The maps are little help. None of them tell you if they can be reached. It hurts me to see you so stressed by this. I offer to take over. You compare everything over and over again. You swear to every spirit I've ever heard of and a few more. I try to get you to eat something as you curse the cartographers. A few times you look ready to leap out of your chair saying, "I found it!" but you never do. The hours and days tick by. Once or thrice you doze off. I sleep on the couch and you're still working on finding her. You'll never find her just sitting here, I point out.

In the war balloon you pass over the islands that offer no promise, touch down on those that do. You despair more and more every time the person we find isn't her. After the fifth time you want to go back to the Fire Nation. It seems he tricked you. I make you keep looking. It's been too long. You press on, but every so often for a moment I see your hope dwindling. You stop on one we may have ignored.

A moonless night, lying under a rocky outcropping for shelter from unexpected weather under the stars you leap to your feet. I scramble to stand. A cloaked figure leers at us. You demand a name. It shakes its head. You want them to show their face, whoever they are. You introduce yourself by your full title and family relations. The shadowy form staggers and has trouble catching its breath. It falls to its knees, clutches at its chest, and slowly looks up at you to make sure you aren't of her imagination. You have the exact same expression.

"You didn't forget who you are," she rasps and reaches out to touch your scar.

You cradle her head in your lap as she did to you so long ago, "I could never forget, mom."

I stand off to the side and watch the two of you. I watch as you tell her all you've been through. I watch as she tells you how proud she is of you—how much she loves you. I watch as it becomes harder for her to breath. I watch as you beg her not to leave you again. I watch as you and her cry. I close my eyes as all goes quiet. You hold onto her long after she is gone. You refuse to leave. I remind you the world looks to you to rule the Fire Nation.

We bury her at sunrise facing West—home. The crude inscription on the headstone reads:

Here lies Ursa of the Fire Nation.

Never forget.

You stay silent the whole way back. You saw her again, but now there can be no next time. I want to comfort you, make this hurt go away. Sometimes it is better to not know and have to guess than absolutely know and have no way of guessing.

A/N: I haven't written angst in a while. I hope you like this, Sunny Disposition. Reviews are much appreciated.

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