Two hours after Mai kicks him out of the delivery room, Aang shows up in a whirlwind of flowing robes, wide-eyed and pale-faced.
"Is she sure it's a real labour this time?" he demands as he snaps his glider shut. From inside the room, Mai lets out a prolonged yell.
"She's pretty sure, Aang," Zuko says, with more than a hint of hysteria. Then, "Wait. Is Katara coming on Appa? Where is she?"
"Yeah… about that," Aang says. He rubs the back of his neck and grins sunnily. Zuko loathes that grin as much as he loves it. "She had to go back South early. But I can help!"
Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes deeply, and tries to think of calming Uncle Iroh proverbs. The armadillo bear that becomes stressed over the meadow vole too easily becomes stressed over life. One must always remain calm in the turbulent rapids of unexpected events. Obviously he hasn't gotten any better at understanding or imitating his uncle's wisdom in the past seven years.
"Aang," he says slowly. Another yell from Mai, this time a string of expletives rather than just an incoherent scream. "I asked Katara to be here because she has been trained as a midwife. How exactly do you plan to help? Unless you started midwife training without telling me." It's not unlikely. Aang's always doing things like that.
"I can provide moral support?" Aang says. Zuko starts slowly counting back from twenty.
Mai has been in labour for four hours now, long enough for the light of pre-dawn to have filtered into the corridor outside her room. On the one hand, it's a good thing, since Fire Nation children born at daybreak in summer are considered lucky; blessed, even. Azula was born under such circumstances – Zuko has foggy memories of being brought, half-asleep, to meet his new baby sister. Zuko was born late on an autumn night, which goes to show that some superstitions must have roots in reality.
The downside to all this is that Mai is probably never going to want to have any children ever again. At this point, Zuko is mostly fine with that.
"Babies are tiny," he says for the third time. He can't seem to stop saying it. Aang, bless his surprisingly-helpful-in-a-moral-support-capacity self, doesn't call him out on it.
"What are you worried about? Do you think you're going to drop it?" he says. "Good thing it's not an airbender. We're pretty slippery."
"Like I don't know that," Zuko replies. He leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, then smiles suddenly. "Remember when I used to chase you around trying to capture you?"
"You mean when you were all, 'I must regain my honour!'" He says it in a strangled sort of voice that Zuko supposes is meant to be an impersonation of him. He lets it go. "That was fun. Apart from that time where you tried to kill me in Ba Sing Se, I mean. But other than that…"
"Sorry." How many times has he apologised for his actions back then? Not enough, he feels. He winces as another of Mai's screams filters through the door. "It wasn't fun for me. Maybe when I broke you out of Zhao's prison," he amends, and opens his eyes to see Aang smile nostalgically. "Doesn't it worry you, that I'm going to have a kid soon?" he asks abruptly.
Aang looks at him quizzically. "Because you might drop them? I'm pretty sure you'll be fine, you have good reflexes." Zuko lets out a pained grunt and rubs the heel of his palm into his eye.
"No, because of- because of my father," he says. Now Aang's giving him a sad sort of frown, like he'd give to a wounded turtleduck. Not the sort of look Zuko particularly likes having directed at him.
"You're not Ozai, Zuko," Aang says, suddenly sounding his age for once, rather than the perpetual fourteen year old that Zuko still sees him as, sometimes. "We've talked about this. A lot. If I thought you were -"
"That's not what I meant," Zuko interrupts, because they actually have talked about it way too much. "It's just that I don't exactly have the best role-model for parenthood, do I?"
Aang is staring at him again. "What?" he snaps, and Aang starts to laugh.
"Zuko, you have heaps of role models!" he says, grey eyes sparkling. "I know Ursa's not going to be back for another few weeks, but she'll be able to help then! And what about Uncle Iroh? And you know Hakoda well enough, he's a pretty good role model -"
"I said that wrong," Zuko interrupts again, frustrated. "I meant… I don't know. What if… I'm not Ozai, but I am still his son." His mouth twists into a scowl. "Even when I'd hoped I wasn't. What if whatever made him treat me and Azula the way he did is passed onto me? I can't let myself do the things he did, Aang." Almost without thought, he touches a hand to the edge of scar.
Aang makes a distressed noise and flutters up from his position against the opposite wall, only to drop down to a crouch in front of Zuko. "You wouldn't," he says, putting one hand on his shoulder and tilting his chin up with the other. "Those were his problems. You couldn't do the things he did – trust me. I know you pretty well, don't you think?" He smiles warmly.
"… I'm being irrational, aren't I," Zuko sighs. He scrubs his face with both hands.
"No," Aang says, thoughtful. "Just scared. That's okay, though." His smile flips to a toothy grin in an instant. "Do you need a hug?"
Zuko's learned a lot, since he packed his bag and left the Fire Nation on a tiny airship seven years ago. He's learned that his Uncle's wisdom is worth his time, and that family can be chosen, rather than born into. He's learned how to apologise properly, and how to talk to people without wanting to die immediately afterwards. He's even learned how to make half-decent tea, although Uncle laments that he just doesn't have "the gift".
One of the earliest and most frequently enforced lessons, however, is that hugs should be given often, and never rejected. "Sure," he says, and lets out a quiet oof when Aang throws his arms around his neck and all-but falls into him, pushing him up against the wall. He leans into it and buries a smile in Aang's shoulder as the first rays of the day's sun fall across his face.
"Is it just me, or did it just get really quiet?" Aang says, voice muffled. As if on cue, the wail of a baby splits the air, and Zuko jumps up. Or tries to. He's still tangled up in Aang, and so they end up a sprawled mess on the floor, which is how an exhausted yet amused midwife finds them.
"You have a healthy daughter, Firelord Zuko," she says, and gestures into the room. Zuko stands with as much dignity as possible, then reaches a hand out to help Aang up.
"Thank you," he says. "I guess your moral support wasn't so bad." On impulse, he keeps a hold of Aang's hand and tugs him towards the door. "Come on, you should meet your new niece."
The answering smile on Aang's face is as radiant as the rising sun behind him.