Basket Case

by Mizzytron (LB)

Summary: So then it unnerved Sokka, that without fail, every few days for the past two weeks Zuko had shown up at his doorstep in a basket.

Pairings: Sokka/Zuko, Zukka, or however you kids abbreviate it these days.

Warnings: Hints of self-harm. Mild M/M slash.

Disclaimer: The Avatar IP (intellectual property) including The Last Airbender and Legend of Korra series belong to Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko, and Nickelodeon. I claim no ownership and make pretty much none dollars off of this fanfiction.

Notes: Just a little bittersweet short story set post-show in Republic City, Zuko is the Fire Lord, Sokka is a councilman. Both are adults of vague ages. In case you were wondering, the title is a terrible pun. Story is in Sokka's perspective.

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Sometimes when I let my mind wander for far too long I wonder exactly when I started to drift away from everyone. I hadn't seen any of my old friends in such a long time, or had a chance to spend meaningful time with them in even longer. Even worse, sometimes at my loneliest I wished there was still a war to be fought. Of course it was wrong, I told myself. But then I could say that I had friends. I was part of something bigger than myself. Nowadays I'm just a chunk of ice that broke off the glacier and drifted out to sea.

Being stuck in your office all day with piles of work will do that to a man, I mused as I signed my last paper of the night. Some contractor wanted to build a museum specifically for Southern Water Tribe culture and needed my permission. Sounded interesting. Maybe I'd get around to visiting it someday. As I filed the paper in with the rest of my finished work for the day, I glanced outside my window only to see it long past dark and sighed. Looks like I was getting home late again tonight.

It wasn't like I was purposely avoiding my old friends. But they all had obligations now. Even though Aang, Katara, and Toph all frequented Republic City-lived there even- I only saw them in passing, if ever. They were busy. Suki and I haven't talked in years. She had obligations to Kyoshi Island, I had obligations to the Southern Water Tribe. I don't know, it seemed pretty inevitable that we wouldn't last the distance. And as for Zuko, well, that was a different story entirely.

I let out a weary sigh on my walk home. I hadn't realized how late I'd stayed in my office today. The streets were already empty and oppressively silent. I stole glances over my shoulder occasionally, the lack of activity making me nervous. It wasn't until I reached the front door to my home that I relaxed visibly.

"I'm home," my voice echoed in the modest house as I called out to no one in particular. Considering my salary, and having helped in founding this city, I probably could have sprung for something more fitting of my status, something that Katara told me when I first bought this place. Of course she only wanted her brother to have the best. I smiled fondly at the memory. But I convinced her that it would be too much work for me to keep clean by myself. I didn't have Aang's ability to blow all the dust out the window, nor did I have Zuko's massive serving staff, nor did I have Toph's ability to just not care. It seemed to convince her. But in reality, I didn't want to feel smothered by the emptiness of a giant house.

Speaking of Zuko, I slapped my forehead when I forgot to light the lantern outside the front door, something that had become sorta a ritual for me lately. It wasn't like I ever expected visitors. After the war, in the back of my mind I accepted the fact that I wasn't likely to ever get visits from Zuko. I thought my job was hard; Zuko was single-handedly in charge of running a country.

So then it unnerved me, that without fail, every few days for the past two weeks Zuko had shown up at my doorstep in a basket. The first time it happened was much like tonight. I had another long night at work, when I looked out my window only to see that it had started storming.

"Just great. And I forgot my coat. Couldn't be better." So we'll just say I had been on edge the entire walk home, tired, soaked, and-like always-lonely. I scowled as I kicked up dust in the living room. I'd been meaning to sweep for a few days now. Just never got around it it. The kitchen was cluttered with empty boxes of food because all my dishes were dirty and piled in the sink. All I wanted to do was change out of my soaking wet clothes and fall into bed. I can clean later.

I made it as far as my tunic when there was a knock on my door. Whoever it was, it couldn't have been good news. Good news waits until morning. So maybe it was the darkness, my lack of sleep, the anxiety, or a combination of the above, but when a man stumbled into my home who looked ragged and vaguely Fire Nation, I panicked. It was Ozai. Ozai had found where I lived. Ozai had found where I lived and was coming to kill me. I looked around wildly for something to fight back with, finally deciding on a sword that hung on the wall. It was ornamental, but it would have to do in a pinch. Ozai didn't have his bending anymore, but the man was still a skilled martial artist. But there was one thing Ozai didn't take into consideration by coming here: Sokka had the advantage of the terrain. I knew my home better than anyone; I could asses all my exit strategies in a second.

I raised my sword in a defensive stance. Ozai wasn't the same man that tried to burn the Earth Kingdom to the ground. The years rotting in prison had taken their toll; he looked weak and off-balance. A golden eye stared at me from a curtain of stringy black hair. Ozai opened his mouth to say something, but I couldn't hear him over the ringing in his ears. Was he really bothering with an evil speech right now? Why didn't he just attack? Ozai was leaning heavily on the door frame, looking like he couldn't even stand up on his own. Was he really that stupid to try to attack him in such a state? No, not stupid. Ozai was insane. And an insane enemy was infinitely more dangerous than a sane one. You could predict a sane enemy. All this just made the adrenaline pump through my veins faster. But I wouldn't attack first. I couldn't predict how Ozai would react. It was better to hold my ground.

Ozai's head lolled to the side, the long hair in his face shifting. I could see the newly uncovered side of his face, and the massive scar that marred it. Ozai didn't have a scar like that. I knew only one person with a scar like that.

"...Sokka, please..." I heard him beg weakly, holding out a shaking arm. The voice was unmistakable.

"...Zuko?" I ventured hesitantly, fading out of my stupor. The man only looked at me pleadingly. I let the ornamental blade clatter to the floor as I closed the distance between me and Zuko.

"Holy shit, Zuko, I'm sorry! I thought-I thought you were..." I trailed off, unable to complete my thought. Zuko probably didn't want to know he reminded people of his father. I stood awkwardly about a foot away from him, unsure how to help.

"Can you walk?" I asked. Zuko only looked back at him blankly, too weak to respond. "Of course you can't walk. Fuck, I'm an idiot." I threw Zuko's arm around my shoulder, my other hand wrapping around his hip. "If you feel like you're about to pass out, fall on me, alright?" Zuko nodded weakly. Fortunately for the both of us, the couch was close. It would have to do. I wasn't expecting the Fire Lord to be so heavy.

"What's wrong?" I demanded, but Zuko was elsewhere. He just shook his head, staring somewhere into the ceiling.

"It hurts," he complained breathlessly. Zuko's chest was heaving. A sweat had broken out all over his face.

"Where does it hurt?" No response. I was about to slap Zuko, thinking I'd lost him, when Zuko shook his head faintly, only complaining again that it hurt. Alright, so Zuko was delirious and of no help at all. I was just going to have to find out on my own. I took a deep breath and let it out, bracing myself. I just hoped the Fire Lady would forgive me for stripping her husband.

The cloak was easy enough to remove. The tunic was more difficult. Thank the spirits that Zuko decided to go incognito today. Who knows what hell his formal robes would have been to take off? But once Zuko's chest was bare it was pretty obvious what was causing him pain. A large gash ran diagonally across his chest. It wasn't very deep but it was long. The skin around it was purple, and already the edges of the wound started to ooze and blister.

"Fuck. I need Katara."

"No!" Zuko snapped with surprising volume, making me start. He was at least semi-conscious now, giving me a pleading look. I resisted for a minute, but then again, I had no idea where Katara was. Where would I even send the letter?. She and Aang could be anywhere around the globe. And the wound was already becoming infected. I had a little expertise in medicine, so that would have to do for now. What could have possibly caused this? But the reason why Zuko was hurt was now secondary to the fact that he was hurt, and very hurt indeed. The inevitable questions could wait until morning.

I ran to go collect some herbs. I needed something for the infection, and a pain killer. When I came back out, Zuko was in a daze again, fading in and out of consciousness.

"Stay with me, Zuko. I need you to stay awake."

I pressed a warm, damp cloth over the wound as gently as I could. I needed to clean it. Zuko gasped and moaned in pain, small flames licking out from between his lips.

"I just need to clean your wound. Try not to burn down my house." Even if Zuko couldn't understand a word I was saying, it made me feel better to talk through this. Peppermint leaves were next. They were to numb the pain.

I bit my lip. The worst part was still yet to come. I had to stitch up the wound. When I came out with a needle and thread Zuko must have been feeling better, because he eyed them warily.

"No," he croaked. He would have sounded more petulant had he not been drugged and half-conscious. I half-expected this.

"Zuko, I need to stitch up your wound. It'll help it heal," I chided. Man, when did I start to sound like my sister? Zuko only protested again, trying unsuccessfully to shy away from me. I rolled my eyes. This was going to happen, whether he wanted it to or not.

I could feel Zuko's tenseness under my fingers, even though I was trying to be as gentle as possible. I held my breath. Here goes, I guess. The first time I ran the needle through his wound Zuko started, stopping just short of jerking away from my touch.

"I need you to hold still. I'll do this as fast as I can," I breathed, not daring to look away from the wound as I worked. Every time the needle pierced flesh, Zuko flinched, but his reactions died down somewhat. Maybe the peppermint had started to kick in. This could go so much faster now that the Fire Lord was relaxed. Minutes passed in complete silence. The only sounds were my own quiet breaths, and Zuko's labored ones.

There was a weird sort of intimacy about this. I could feel Zuko watching my every move with morbid fascination. Here I was in the middle of the night, tending to this guy who just sorta stumbled, dying, into my house. I was inches away from Zuko's face. I could feel the Fire Lord's short breaths on the top of my head, but I didn't really mind the closeness. If anything, it was welcome after spending so long in the company of paperwork.

The stitches went by faster and more painless than I worried they would. Cutting off the thread with a pair of scissors, I shifted back on my heels to survey my work. The wound was still red and swollen with anger around the crossing of threads, but already I felt better about it. I glanced up at Zuko to find him staring back with an intensity that surprised me. We stayed like that for a moment, searching each others' faces for the answer for tonight. I looked away, cleared my throat, and stood. At least Zuko could think clearly enough to focus now.

"Thank you."

"Yeah." Don't mention it. It's been a long night. Get some rest. I blew out the lamps in the living room, disappearing into the bedroom in the recesses of the house.

When morning came I wandered out into the living room, half-expecting to find the couch empty. Surprisingly, Zuko was still there, albeit sound asleep. I sat on the arm by Zuko's feet and watched him. I was furious with unanswered questions, but maybe I should let him sleep. He looked like he needed it. But why was the Fire Lord in Republic City? What happened to him? How did he get injured so badly without anyone noticing?

Even more surprisingly, Zuko was still there when I returned from work. He looked up from a meal he was making with a scandalized expression.

"I wanted to do something to thank you, for last night," he blurted out an explanation before I could even say a word. I wanted to ask where Zuko got the ingredients. I wanted to tell him that he shouldn't repay me. I wanted to ask what happened last night. But instead of any of these, I glanced over at the food and inhaled the smell in the air. My stomach growled appreciatively.

"It smells great," I commented with a distracted grin. The food wasn't the only thing that Zuko had a hand in. For the first time in forever, the living room was clean. The floor was swept. The counter was clear. The furniture had been straightened and the ornamental sword replaced on the wall. Zuko already looked better, his hair tied back and any traces of last night's panicked fever gone.

Dinner was awkward, to say the least. What did you say to a guy who showed up on your doorstep in a basket for the first time in several years and was now cooking you dinner? We stayed to acceptable subjects like "What have you been up to?" "How's work?" since Zuko had already tried "How's Suki?" and that led down a miserable path. Asking about Mai hadn't fared much better, and Zuko had completely dodged any questions about what happened or why he was in Republic City.

The more we talked, the more things I noticed, mainly, that Zuko looked completely and utterly tired. I imagined that Zuko might have been going through life in autopilot. Was he just going through the motions like me? Did he ever feel like his mind was in limbo? Like he was torn between reminiscing about the past and wondering about the future?

Ever since that night, Zuko kept coming back. First it was a shard of glass that had gotten stuck in his palm. I held his hand while I took it out and bandaged up the hole. Then it was a burn on his upper arm. I wrapped it in a cool cloth then rubbed aloe on it to help heal the damaged tissue. Then it was a scorching fever. I cleaned his old wounds and replaced the bandages just in case they were infected, and made him drink white willow tea. I thought the fever must have been terrible, to affect a firebender like that. Then it was a twisted ankle. I massaged the tender joint, putting ice on it to reduce the swelling. He would stay afterwards and cook me dinner, which was nice. I was always sad when he left. I was comfortable with our new routine, even though he never told me why he kept getting injured. It was just nice I guess, having someone around. We talked for long hours into the night about a lot of things.

Do you ever worry about the future, I asked. He nodded. Sometimes I get scared, I said, when I think about how I really don't know what I'm doing with my life. I should be happy, but I'm not. Is this all there is? What if I die like this-alone? I mean, I don't really have anyone. You're the only person I've seen in forever. Zuko was quiet, pensive, letting me vent.

That was what I really liked about talking to Zuko. He was a good listener. The way he would take care of the house and cook meals, and listen to whatever I had to say, it was like, his way of taking care of me, I think.

So you can probably expect how unsurprised I was when Zuko showed up at my door with a dislocated shoulder. It was like a routine, how I sat him down on the couch that had gradually evolved into an exam table. To be honest, I was really excited when he showed up, even though I know I shouldn't be. I mean, I shouldn't be excited that he's getting hurt again.

Zuko couldn't move his arm, so I had to take off his tunic myself, as per usual. I shivered when I saw his shoulder, looking ugly and painful. I pressed around the shoulder blade, taking note of every hiss of pain I got back.

"I'm gonna try to put it back in place," I told him. He made a pained face in response. I knew he really didn't want me to, but it was necessary. He sat up and straightened his back as I held his hand, bending his elbow up. I pushed his hand towards his stomach. His uninjured hand grabbed my leg to brace himself, which I didn't really mind. It was probably the easiest thing to grab. He stopped breathing when I started to rotate his arm outwards. Zuko squeezed his eyes shut against the pain. My thigh was starting to burn from where he was gripping it. With a loud pop and a cry from him, his shoulder snapped into place. The relief was immediate, and Zuko let go of my leg, sagging forwards unto me for support. I drew his hand back towards his chest, holding it there.

"Better?" A muffled "yes" came from where he buried his face in my shoulder. "Good. I'm gonna get you a sling, alright?" Zuko just nodded, leaning back into the couch. I'd been taking care of him so many times the touches were normal. I wasn't complaining anyways. The closeness felt nice. When I came back, he was already more obedient, sitting patiently while I wrapped the makeshift sling.

"Thank you. I know you have to take care of me a lot," Zuko admitted quietly after a long moment tying his sling.

"I don't mind," I waved it off quickly, then after a moment of thought, added, "but I wish you'd be more careful." Zuko's eyes widened nearly imperceptibly. It was only for a second, but I caught it. Maybe I struck a nerve. Maybe this wasn't a good time to ask the burning questions I'd been pondering for a while, but now was as good as a segue as any.

"Zuko? Why have you been getting hurt so much lately?" Zuko looked guilty.

"I've been on vacation. I didn't tell anyone where I was going. I had to sneak away to escape my guards. I didn't want them following me." Well that explained why there was seemingly no commotion about the Fire Lord being injured. But the more important question still lingered.

"If you don't answer me, I'm going to call Katara," I threatened. It was a low blow, but it worked. Zuko blanched. He sighed, as if about to confess something big, but after a while when no confession came, I just raised an eyebrow at him. He seemed to get the idea.

"The first one was an accident. I was...really confused, and I didn't know what to do, and you were the only thing I could think of. But the ones after that...spending time with you was really nice. I feel lonely a lot too. Like I don't have a purpose in life. I mean, I have a purpose, obviously I have to rule the Fire Nation, but what about me? I'm not happy, and I don't know why. And then you said that you felt the same way, and I thought, what if I could give you a purpose..." he trailed off, but the subtext was already clear enough. I could only just stare at him. How could he possibly think...?

"Zuko," I replied, unable to hide all of the concern in my voice. He just stared back at me, uncertain and afraid. His name just hung out in the open, exposed as he was, for lack of a better explanation. "You never needed an excuse to see me."

That was when the floodgates opened. I could see him about to cry, and I did the first thing that came to my mind, and hugged him tightly. His face was buried in my chest. I could feel my shirt getting wet, but at this point, I didn't care.

"You can come see me as often as you like," I said whatever sprang to mind, trying anything to console him. I didn't like seeing Zuko cry. I really didn't like seeing him cry. "just please, don't hurt yourself anymore." My voice was cracking. Was this really happening? I felt him shake his head.

"That's not it," he murmured under my chin. I was almost in hysterics. Not it? How could there be more?! He pulled away, avoiding me. There was that guilty look again.

"I really liked spending time with you," he whispered. I blinked. Well, yeah. I expected that one.

"I really like spending time with you too," was my obligatory response. Where was this headed?

"That's not what I mean. I mean, I like you a lot," he paused, clenching his fists as if to say, why was this so hard? How old was he and he really couldn't do this? "I think I'm in love with you," he finally blurted out.

I stared at him. I wasn't expecting that. Nothing could have prepared me for that. Was this really happening? What time was it? This night was getting too crazy. I needed to get some sleep. We both needed to get some sleep. But that was neither here nor there when I saw Zuko staring at me with that vulnerable, wide-eyed expression again, and my thoughts vanished. Zuko was in love with me. Repeated for emphasis: Zuko was in love with me. And I hadn't thought about it until now, but maybe I was in love with him too. Maybe a little.

I kissed him, because I kinda thought that that was what I was supposed to do now. I don't know, I'm no good at this sudden declaration of love after an emotional breakdown in the middle of the night thing. But he was kissing me back and oh fuck, it was amazing. He was needy, aggressive, and his good hand gripped the back of my neck like he never wanted to let me go.

I hope he never lets me go.

The End

A/N: Short and bittersweet, but I hope you liked it! Even if you didn't like it, let me know! As always, constructive criticism is welcomed and greatly encouraged.