Sokka stared into the blotchy, bloodstained eyes of his best friend. It was the most miserable sight he had ever laid eyes upon.
"Toph?" He ventured slowly.
The girl sniffled, grunting in acknowledgement of his voice, but otherwise did not move.
"Are you alright?" He asked, though the answer was more than obvious.
And it was clear Toph thought so too, because she growled in annoyance at his probing, rubbing furiously at her face.
"No." The word had all the bite of an angry Sabre-toothed Mooselion.
Sighing to himself, he put the bag he was carrying down onto the table, and stepped a bit closer to her.
"Is there anything I can do to-" he began.
"No."
For a moment, Sokka simply watched her blink, little droplets of water forcing themselves from her eyelids and down the side of her nose. Eventually he shook his head in consternation, pacing back and forth.
"What's the matter?" He chanced, hoping she wouldn't get even more upset by his inability to leave her alone.
Toph breathed deeply, the back of her hand wiping away at her nostrils. Sokka's own nose wrinkled in disgust.
"I don't know," Toph said, with a note of despondency that Sokka had never heard come from her before.
"What d'you mean? You just woke up like this, or something?"
"Yesh," Toph replied thickly.
He drummed his fingers on the surface on the table, his mind whirring.
"Want me to get Katara? She might be able to help," he offered.
Toph considered the suggestion for a moment, before shaking her head. And then she sneezed so violently that Sokka took a step back in surprise.
"Wow. You must be pretty sick," he muttered.
Toph frowned, glaring sightlessly at him.
"Sick? M'not sick," she insisted.
"Huh? Of course you are. I mean, just look at you. Uh, well, y'know. But you're very clearly unwell," he told her.
"Never- …never been sick in m'life," she mumbled, her words slurring slightly.
Sokka gawked at her in disbelief.
"Never been sick? I knew your parents kept you under lock and key, but not even they could prevent illnesses. Or can they? Hmm…" He trailed off, thoughts of some sort of health benders running through his head.
"I'm too tough for sickness," Toph boasted, sneezing again.
"Clearly. Well, if you don't want Katara to have a look at you, what do you want?" He questioned her.
Toph couldn't speak, overcome with a coughing fit. Sokka's heart ached at the sight of his strong, proud friend so weakened.
"Alright. Wait here, I'll be back," he said.
"W-where… you going?" She murmured, the effort of talking becoming too much.
Sokka had already gone. Alone again, Toph slumped in on herself, curling up on her sofa like a hibernating mouse.
Only to find something damp poking at her face. She frowned, batting at the weird sensation.
"Stay still, Toph," Sokka ordered.
"What're you doing?" Toph demanded.
"I'm cleaning your face, you've covered in… stickiness," he murmured, running the wet cloth over her cheeks.
"I'm not a baby," Toph declared indignantly.
"I know. But you're not in a fit state to take care of yourself now, so I guess I'll have to do it for you," Sokka replied. "I'm no healer, but it's better than nothing, right?"
Huffing, Toph allowed him to continue his work. In a few moments her face was free from fluids.
"There, isn't that better?" He asked.
"Easy for you to say," Toph hissed.
He shrugged to himself, not contesting the point. Casting his glance back to the table, he spied the bag he'd brought along with him.
"I got you some arctic hen legs," he revealed.
Her dull green-grey eyes regained a bit of lustre at the words, as her mouth began to water. And then she frowned, turning away from him.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, hanging her head.
"Hey, don't be," he told her, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"This was supposed to be a fun night, and I've ruined it," she rambled, shaking her head.
Sokka's hand tightened, gripping her shoulder firmly.
"Toph, shut up. So you're sick, big deal. Doesn't mean we can enjoy ourselves," he assured her.
"How? I can barely move," she croaked.
Patting her side one, he picked up the bag and began to empty it.
"I brought that book you like. We can just have a quiet night in for a change. We don't always have to go out and get trashed you know, it's nice to have some time spent just talking," he explained.
Her arm shot out, impacting against his shoulder. He took it with grace, used to her random violent affection.
"Alright, you big girl."
Ignoring the slight against his masculinity, Sokka sat down next to the blind girl. In a moment she was leaning against him, her eyes closed. He looked down at her for a moment with a smile on his face, and opened the book.