For what seemed like the thirtieth time in an hour, Zuko shook himself.

The torches in the throne room shone bright. They were here, Fire Nation royalty, in the palace of Ba Sing Se. Mai and Ty Lee were leading half the city guard on a chase through the city, guaranteeing that by the time the city knew what was going on, it'd be far too late to do anything.

It didn't feel like victory.

Azula had already sent the Dai Li to bring down the walls. Even now, the Fire Nation forces would be receiving her messenger hawks and moving into position. Maybe he was just being cautious. Zuko had seen victory slip away too many times to relax now.

That had to be it.

She controlled them, the Dai Li. He had no idea how, but she owned them. In hours, she'd own Ba Sing Se as a conqueror. Sitting on the throne, back straight, eyebrows arched, she looked every bit in charge. Every bit a Firelord despite her Earth Kingdom attire.

But she won't be the Firelord, not anymore. When I return home, Father will accept me. He has to.

If anyone could take it away from him, though… "You're not going to let it happen."

Azula turned to face him. Her smile was puzzled. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, brother."

"When I go home. You've been Father's heir for three years, and now he'll take me back. He has to. But you won't accept that, will you? If you give up being his successor, there's a reason. Nothing's changed."

Everything had changed, though. He'd regained his honor and proven himself, and Father would see that. The Water Tribe girl didn't know what was at stake for him, what had always been at stake. She couldn't.

"I thought you had changed!"

He shook his head again. He didn't want to hear Katara's accusations. Or his sister's hollow reassurances, which were sure to come.

"Zuko…"

Something about the way she said his name grabbed him. A quiet, distracted mumble.

Azula was looking at him, but her eyes were gazing inward, and her expression was thoughtful. Zuko knew immediately that her words weren't meant for him. "You're back…and all because…"

Her hand opened and closed, her fingers fluttering. The corner of her mouth twitched.

Zuko frowned. Whatever idea his words had ignited, it fascinated her. What was her game?

Then she caught him staring at her, and after a moment her expression sharpened once more into the mask he knew. "Don't be selfish. There's no need for us to fight, Zuko. Especially not after tonight. We've done it. It's taken a hundred years, but the Fire Nation has conquered Ba Sing Se. We've all but won the war."

He didn't believe her, not after all he'd seen her do, but her words struck the thing he was trying so hard not to think about. "Uncle…"

"What about him?"

Zuko could almost hear her eyes rolling. He wanted to shout at her, but the words disappeared into the loud buzz of his thoughts. "I betrayed him."

Azula sighed. "No, brother. He betrayed you. After all you've done to try to stop the Avatar, Uncle tried to stop you." She stood up from the throne, peering intently at him as she crossed her arms. "Zuko, when we return home, Father will welcome you. Think about what you've done! You're a war hero now."

Think about what you've done. The Avatar's broken body, limp in a crying girl's arms. "But I…I don't have the Avatar. Father said that only by capturing the Avatar…What if he doesn't restore my honor?"

Her hand fell on his shoulder, warm, hard. "He can't. You've already restored your own honor. The rest is just ceremony after what you've done here."

Zuko nodded slowly, her words sinking into him. He tried to believe her.

What I've done…

He is falling forever.

Darkness surrounds him. From the shadows, a thousand voices cry out to him in whispers, an endless, meaningless chittering. They are calling for him, and he wants to answer but he has no voice. There's no air here.

Black fire arcs through the void, crackling through him once more. His nerves feel like shattered glass.

No air.

He can feel a pull. It's different from falling, not as urgent, but it's just as strong. Maybe stronger, pulling on his insides, on his soul. It manifests where it touches him, and he can't look away. Familiar hands…his own hands.

His past selves. They'll take him away.

Good. The Avatar failed. The cycle has to continue.

A light laps his back. Its soothing coolness reminds him that he can, in fact, feel. It sharpens the pain in his body, grinding his blood into ice, and he opens his mouth —

— Coughing, choking, Aang hacked out the nothingness, brought much needed air into his lungs. Air. His element.

The next hundred breaths would feel like sucking ash through a straw, but this first made him want to fly.

A few more heartbeats, and he realized the wind was battering his cheeks. Maybe he was already flying.

Or falling. He could remember falling, flailing helplessly in the dark, the agony of burning…

Panic. Metal bars for limbs. No way could he recover before he hit the ground. Aang's heart raced.

But then the fear evaporated. He knew where he was. Bent at the waist, sitting on a fluffy surface, a living surface. He'd sat here a thousand times, joking to the empty sky about how well he could hear his best friend's thoughts from here. Appa. Hey buddy.

Someone gasped, someone he knew, and his world tilted.

Katara's face floated above him. Her cheeks were wet and her hair billowed in the wind. One of her eyebrows had been singed, probably by the same fire that had blackened her dress and left an angry red mark on part of her neck. But she didn't seem to care — she was staring at him, tear-filled eyes wide, and her expression was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Why she was smiling at him like that, Aang couldn't possibly guess, but it made him giddy, and though it hurt his jaw he smiled back.

When she hugged him — tender, but so firmly he could believe that she'd never let him go — Aang fell again. This time, the darkness numbed the pain. It wrapped him in itself, and within seconds it was sleeping with him.