A/N: Hey there, all, and happy holidays! I'm sincerely sorry for the ridiculously late update. Luckily, a mad scramble/trek across Thailand with twenty three other teenagers and nothing but pen and paper for entertainment does tend to give you some good story ideas.

A shoutout and huuuuge thank you to Frenzied Warrior. Forget about making my day, you made my whole week. Maybe month. :P I can't thank you enough or even put into words how much that meant to me, both the review and the time you took to write it. :-) This is what you asked – Zia angst and Carter-hurt (kind of) although I only realized it fit after writing it..

Apologies in advance for the emoness/angst.. I'll draw up a good ol' lighthearted one next. Promise. :)

Daughtry

Crawling Back To You

Lessons learned

Bridges burned to the ground

It's too late now to put out the fire…

##

"I don't need him, Jaz! I don't need anyone!"

The blue eye narrowed, fearlessly opposing burning amber. "I beg to differ, Zia. You do. Every day."

"I have never, and will never rely on anyone. Anyone! Least of all a boy!"

"Just listen to yourself!" Jaz exclaimed in frustration. I'm sorry, but you know what? You sound nine. Wake up!" The force of her words were uncharacteristic but powerful, anger and venom leaking into her usually controlled voice. "You need him every bit that he needs you! He's not some idiot who can't grasp a concept like you think! He's our leader! Our equal! Why shouldn't he be trusted? Relied on?"

"I trust him with my safety. We all do." Zia's golden eyes seared like molten metal, and she spoke through clenched teeth. "But I will never trust another soul with my thoughts. My mind is my last sanctuary. Give me one reason why I should exploit it."

"You're not some kind of superwoman, Zia! We all need someone for us! You can't live your entire life like you have a stone heart!" The elementalist had never seen her friend so angry - eyes shooting sparks like azure flames - but her pride clouded judgment too much to care.

"Like you would know," she spat. "You don't know a thing. You grew up with a perfect family, perfect house, perfect damn life. What would you know?"

To her surprise, it didn't provoke Jaz further. She just let out a dry, mirthless laugh. "More than you think/" Though when she turned away, arms wrapped around her torso, something more flashed across her face. "You may know more about guarding yourself, fine. But don't you ever think I don't know what it's like to feel pain."

"Why do you even care so much?" Zia crossed her arms, stubborn as usual.

"I ask myself that all the time." Something new had entered her tone - a hard edge. Conflict? Loss? Jealousy?

Silence for a while. Then Jaz spoke once more. "Don't you see how much he needs you? Don't you have some sympathy?"

"So I should hurt myself for his dream?"

"Damn it!" The blonde spun around again, exasperated. "You're selfish, Zia! Do you ever think of anyone but yourself?"

She stiffened, but maintained her composure. "I wouldn't be standing here if I did. Life is cruel. I've done what I have to.

Something glistened on the other's cheek, but it was gone in a split second like the drops slipping down the glass window. A whisper; "You don't deserve him." Her voice broke.

Another lapse into tense, rigid silence.

"I know I don't. I don't deserve him, I don't need him. We're both better off without each other. Leave me. Take him if it makes you happy. It will be better for everyone." And with that Zia Rashid left the room, head held high.

"You'll regret it," Jaz muttered bitterly, watching the door swing shut. She would come back. Soon she would run out of things to burn.

Take him if it makes you happy.

If only it was that simple. If only Zia knew what she could do, knew how she had branded him with flames even she couldn't control. If only she knew she would always be his first choice. Nobody would stand a chance. Just a replacement, a filler for a hole that would always be smoking.

Only Zia Rashid could make him happy. Only she could help him, no matter how the healer tried.

If only she cared that much.

###

Don't need you. I don't need you.

Ivory struck ebony, sparks flying as wand and staff collided with a jolt of force.

I don't need someone else leaving.

A small, condemned part of her mind bristled in protest, and she ruthlessly slashed her staff forward in a torrent of flames, forcing her head back into the fight.

She managed a total of three seconds before it wandered again.

Flashes, memories - words, his face, expressions. Zia gritted her teeth in frustration and jabbed the clawed end of the wooden rod at her opponent's torso.

Guilt. That was why he haunted her, came back just when she thought she'd forgotten. Guilt of leaving without a warning. Nothing else.

Lying to yourself won't change anything. The chiding voice reminded her vaguely of Jaz, which brought a fresh wave of irritation.

Flaming scarlet tongues enveloped the staff's head, a scorching mallet.

"Enough! You win, Zia! Don't incinerate me, will you?" The magician ducked out of the room before she could respond, leaving her alone with a smoldering rod.

Zia watched the fire burn itself out, mind blank, then followed without a word.

###

(And the healer hates that she is right – of course she is. Of course he will welcome the other back with open arms like he is the one in the wrong. Of course he will put the same blind faith in the very same flames that burned him from the very start. Of course he'll step into the hearth again, for better of for worse.

But it is not her place to be bitter.)

###

The room was dark.

It had been for hours now, the stub of a candle long since burned out.

Silence. Not even the rush of wind penetrated the room.

The night was still.

She was alone, lying on the dusty bed, amber eyes the only source of light in the pitch black; two luminous golden orbs.

This was not the first night she had spent like this. At night an aching loss, so absolute and obliterating crashed down on her, the kind of merciless pain she had long ago surrendered to masks and what she thought were fading scars. Now they seemed to be ripped open again. Her family, her home, everything torn away mindlessly, like life itself had no meaning.

She had always been so strong. She had never needed anyone but herself, anything but her own wit and ability to hide her emotions from every inquiring eye.

But something about going back there again - feeling the warmth family could bring, being loved (and the word seemed so alien to her now) - had made solitude so much colder. Frigid, even; every bone and muscle seemed to be frozen in the malevolent frost, paralyzing her, trapping and suffocating her like a coiling snake, crushing her inside out. Back into the mask she'd donned for countless years.

Only now it was different. Now she yearned to break free, for someone to know her. It was a foolish desire, but she had had enough with being the only person in her own world. (And she knows in this world, if she were to die this moment, not a singe soul would spare the slightest twinge of remorse).

He had changed her. It was subtle; so much so that she didn't even see it herself.

Now she was paying the price.

"You can't live your entire life-"

What was life, anyway, with no-one to care? Save Kane, who would she have made a difference to if she had died with her parents that day in the village?

"You need him. Everyday..."

It was times like this when she let the words wash over her, taunting and tormenting. As cruel as they were, Zia had come to grudgingly accept them.

"You don't deserve him."

That was the sole thing keeping her back because her damned pride didn't mean a thing anymore. Not compared to this silent torment. Even if he had changed her - and for better or for worse, who knew? - what had she done for him? As selfish as the healer claimed she was (and she won't deny it, because beneath her pride she knows it is true), not enough to claim him back only to drag him into the same misery.

"Don't you see how much he needs you?"

Even though Jaz's words had all deemed themselves true, Zia still had a hard time believing these.

If he needed her...well then, if he needed her, she could go back.

Suddenly the thought, the desire was overwhelming - for this endless anguish to cease, to run back to the hearth after what felt like years straggling through the bitter, hailing night.

All she had to do was walk back through the door.

A small spark of hope. That was all it took, and within seconds a flaming hunger was burning through her, melting the walls of frosted ice. (Back).

The candle sputtered to life.