Sorry about the long wait. Again. I seem to be a master of total dorkhood. If that sentence even makes sense. Which I doubt.
This chapter feels really rushed, so I apologize for that ahead of time. There were quite a few things that I wanted to touch on, so instead of spacing them out and do each one well, I crammed them all in and buggered it up. Ah well. Hopefully you won't find where I live and kill me in my sleep.
Oh, and I still don't own Avatar. Nickelodeon just won't give it up.
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Chapter 8
Zuko did not expect to be in an enclosed room when he woke up, let alone a bed. But, as his uncle greeted him with a warm smile and a cup of freshly brewed tea, he discovered that that's exactly where he was. "Uncle?" he asked groggily, sitting up as he accepted the drink.
Iroh knew his nephew well enough to know and answer the question he had really asked through that one word. "I woke up not long after you stopped us, and managed to get you back up, though let me tell you, my old bones were less than happy with that!" He chuckled, stroking his long gray beard. "Since not even all the noise I made in the process could wake you, I decided that you need some rest in a real bed for once. You've been pushing yourself too hard, and it's going to affect your health soon."
"I'm fine, Uncle," Zuko smiled reassuringly, taking a sip of tea. "Really."
The Dragon of the West opened his mouth to speak, but instead of his voice, all that could be heard was a strange mewl. Zuko stared at his uncle quizzically, eyebrow twitching, his hand frozen in midair where he had been bringing the tea to his mouth. Iroh's expression betrayed nothing but innocent confusion.
A strangled curse and a muffled variation of the first sound brought both their gazes to the sliding door, which was now slightly ajar. In two fluid, silent motions, Zuko was up and at the door, one hand resting on the hilt of his twin swords. With of wave of his hand, he signaled for Iroh to stay where he was. His feet padding on the ground so softly as to be soundless, he slid out the door just in time to see an identical one slam shut at the far end of the hall. With only a moment's hesitation to tighten his grip on his blades, he made his way over to the room in question and stopped just outside, listening wordlessly, motionlessly, in.
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Shit. We are so cursed.
Sokka couldn't help vocalizing the first part of his thoughts once he saw what it was that had caught Momo's attention in that room. This was the last thing they needed right now. He frantically scooped up the lemur, who chirped indignantly in response. I just hope Aang's awake so we can get the hell out of here!
He darted into the room so quickly that he lost his balance, falling as he slammed the door shut, sending Momo flying into Katara's arms. Glancing hopefully over at Aang as he got up, he saw exactly what he had expected and hoped against.
"Crap!" He slammed his temples into the palms of his hands. "We're screwed!"
"What's wrong?" Katara asked nervously as she soothed the stiffened lemur. "Is Appa okay?"
"Oh, don't worry, he's fine. Us, though? Not so much."
"What
do you mean?" Toph asked, the concern in her voice not mirrored by
her face as she rose to her feet, her hands face up in front of
her.
"Nothing much, just that that guy just won't give up!"
Sokka's eyes bugged out as he clutched his head in frustration.
"Who?" Toph asked smugly. "The guy right outside our door?" She smirked as she shot her arms forward, straight towards her unsuspecting victim.
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Zuko swore violently as the girl let him know of her awareness of his presence. There was no time to act, let alone think, as the stone ripped through the wooden floorboards to send him flying against the wall. Were his head clear, he probably would have wondered how it was she knew he was there. He might have regretted the last chance to plead his passivity. But no words infiltrated the haze of pain in his mind. As he coughed, a fractured rib pierced his lung, the shock of it sending him into unconsciousness, his body instinctively avoiding the pain.
Through the fog, he imagined he could hear voices floating around him, those he had heard through the door. A strange sensation, one that could almost be called warmth, but not truly, diminished the pain in his chest. Eventually it lessened enough for his mind to claw its way back to alertness. The first thing he noticed was that things were considerably less comfortable in the light of consciousness. The back of his head throbbed from a wound he hadn't felt, achieved as it had slammed against the wall. His chest continued to ache through the almost-warmth. Every breath he took was like fire tearing through his lungs, and he almost went careening back into the fog of sleep at the first inhalation.
Instead, he remained awake, a small moan of pain escaping him as his eyes struggled to open. A gentle voice telling him not to move brought his gaze downward, where the waterbending girl – what was her name? – was sitting next to him, her water-encased hands resting on his chest, producing both the warmth he felt there and a faint light.
Zuko almost laughed. She had healing abilities? Damn. Wish I'd know that earlier. The thought produced the slightest of chuckles, which soon turned into a gasp of pain as the fire in his lungs intensified.
"Stop that!" the healer hissed, her voice somehow harsh and kind at the same time. "Toph really did a number on you, and this is going to take a while." She shot a glare at his attacker, speaking without words. He could almost hear her telling them they were going to have to talk later.
"Actually, I'm not even sure I can heal you completely by myself," she said, biting her lower lip, her eyes and voice full of a genuine concern that baffled him. A sudden irrational guilt overwhelmed him, for even considering asking for their help after everything. And now to waste their time like this?
"You've done more than enough," Zuko forced through gritted teeth. "My uncle and I can handle the rest on our own." Bracing himself for the pain, he removed her hands from his chest and forced himself to stand. He had to swallow a cry in his throat as the movement jostled the fractured rib. The frail scab that had begun to clot his head wound crumbled, and the bleeding started anew. His vision was consumed by white lights, and he had to steady himself against the wall. Despite all this, he took three wobbling steps towards the room that his uncle had obtained before a hand on each of his shoulders from behind stopped him. The fingers dug mercilessly into his flesh, and he found he did not have the strength to fight against two people.
"What? Did you really think we'd let you go, just like that?" Toph's voice cruelly pointed out what he should have realized on his own. Of course not.
"Now just sit down," the water tribe peasant commanded, "and let Katara fix you up. You've got some questions to answer."
Zuko did not need to be told twice. His body screamed for rest, to stay still, to heal. Leaning against the wall that supported his arm, he slid down to the ground and let his mind fall back into the soft reprieve of unconsciousness.
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Aang remained in the Avatar State long after Roku had answered his questions and left. He needed time to think. To process the staggering information that had been thrust at him all too suddenly. Should he tell Sokka and Toph about the damage he'd done to them a hundred years ago? Roku had left the decision completely up to him. Even with his new insight, he couldn't confidently predict how they'd react, and the thought of driving them away was terrifying.
What he needed was an advisor. Someone detached enough to avoid making it personal, and wise enough to really make a difference. Aang longed for some way to talk things through with Gyatso; he'd know exactly what to do, just like he always had. But he'd died over a hundred years ago, creating an irreparable void where he needed someone most.
Or maybe it wasn't irreparable as it seemed?
For the third time, Aang felt the thoughts of another, though this time they merely nudged at the back of his mind. His desire for a confidante pulled an image out of the alien thoughts: the face of a man, wizened and old, creased from years of wear and war. The man who had defended the Moon Spirit so viciously, at the North Pole. Uncle Iroh.
Aang's brow furrowed at the title he unconsciously applied to the old man. The name was correct, but...Uncle?
Whose thoughts were these that waited submissively, pleadingly in his skull? A small push in return, and Aang saw the world through damaged, misguided eyes. He was the son of Fire Lord Ozai and Ursa. He was heir to the throne, though he was only holding on to a faint hope of that claim.
Aang pulled away quickly. There would be nothing in those thoughts but hatred and cruelty and a maddening lust for power. Nothing human like remorse or compassion or even gratitude! Just thirst for control – wait. Maybe not? Another gentle push revealed concern overtaking everything else in his mind, clouded by pain as it was. Concern for his uncle, a mere hallway away. Concern for his twin, back in the Fire Nation. Beneath the worry was turbulence, yes, but none of the violence he had anticipated. Just...guilt.
Without remembering when he had closed them, Aang opened his eyes. He couldn't stall any longer, and now that he knew Zuko was nearby, he had to prevent a confrontation. But a simple sweep of the room with his eyes revealed that his friends were not where they'd been when he'd entered the Avatar State, and voices in the hall told him where they'd gone. He yelped wordlessly and dove back into his body, plummeting out of the warmth that was the Spirit World. The moment he could move again, he launched himself onto his feet, stumbling in his haste to leave the room.
It seemed that confrontation had been unavoidable. The floorboards were ripped out of place and scattered haphazardly around a rough stone pillar. On the wall across from it, crimson blood was smeared in a vertical smudge. No more than a yard away, Zuko lay unmoving, eyes closed, chest rising and falling almost imperceptibly. Katara knelt next to him, water-encased hands moving across his chest. Toph stood not far away, arms folded smugly, with a smirk on her face. Sokka laid an approving hand on her shoulder.
"What did you guys do?" Aang clutched his head in both hands as he just barely avoided shouting.
"He was going to attack us!" Sokka said, gesturing with both arms to the weapons still sheathed at Zuko's hip. "He just won't give up!"
"He was not going to attack!"
Sokka sighed. "Look. Aang. I know you like to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he's followed us farther than is healthy, or even sane. He's attacked you every single time he's seen you. He was standing, armed, right outside our room while you were helpless! He was going to attack us."
Aang smiled. "Trust me on this. Things have changed, and I can prove it if you go get Iroh."
"Aang..."
"Trust me, Sokka. I know what I'm talking about."
"Fine, fine," he shrugged, "but Toph's coming with me. It's your fault if he kills us." He stormed down the hall, followed by a grinning Toph.
The prospect of seeing Iroh again after his run-in with Azula was definitely an uplifting one. She walked quickly, hurrying to open the door she felt him waiting nervously behind. With a large smile plastered on her face, she slid the door open, not bothering to let Sokka, who had fallen several paces behind, catch up.
"Iroh! Glad to see you're okay!"
The old man blinked at her, perplexed. Then a grin that matched hers spread across his face. "Toph," he said, "what a pleasant surprise!"
Sokka stared at them both accusingly. "You two know each other?" he demanded.
"We've met. Helped each other over a pot of tea..." Toph smiled at her memories. "It was nice."
"Right," he said at a drawl, dragging the word out for several seconds and rolling his eyes. "I'm sure that was absolutely lovely for the both of you."
"It was. After she attacked me, of course." Iroh chuckled. "Now, to what honor do I owe this visit?"
Toph groaned. "Yeah. About that...umm..."
"She pummeled your nephew." Sokka interrupted her bluntly.
Iroh's breath caught in his throat. "What?"
"She pummeled. Your nephew."
Toph pushed Sokka aside as she pleaded with Iroh. "Wait! It's not like that! Sokka was panicking and Zuko was just standing there! I didn't know who it was, or what he was going to do! If I'd known, I swear I wouldn't have!"
With a speed that contradicted his age and size, Iroh was on his feet and out the door, ignoring Toph's attempt to explain herself. With that same surprising agility, he was at his nephew's side, clasping his hand. "Zuko..." his voice came out as little more than a strangled whisper.
"It's really not as bad as it looks," Aang's smiling voice came from where he leaned against the wall "Toph just roughed him up a little, nothing Katara can't handle.
The old man took a slow, shuddering breath, and his age truly showed. He looked to Katara, his eyes full of desperate hope, pleading silently with her to make Zuko better.
She smiled confidently. "Don't worry," she assured him. "It really isn't as bad as it looks. He'll be sore for a little while, but that's it."
Iroh nodded slowly, the tension in his body releasing visibly. In the moment of awkward silence that followed, Sokka reemerged, dragging a guiltily reluctant Toph along.
The old man smiled sadly at her uncharacteristic sheepishness. "Do not feel bad, you were only protecting your friends," he said warmly. "There is no fault in that. And this will give me an excuse to make him rest, so I suppose I should be thanking you!"
Toph bowed gratefully and returned the smile, but still could not bring herself to speak.
"Great! No one hates each other," Sokka exclaimed sarcastically. "Now why are you here?" he demanded.
"Yes, you would like to know that, wouldn't you?" Iroh sighed, rubbing his temples. "I can imagine what this seems like, given our history. But I assure you, our intentions are far different this time. I did not even know that you were staying here as well!" He chuckled slightly. "Fate works in strange ways, it seems."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. What do you want?" Sokka's impatient prompt earned him a rough shove from Toph and a glare from his sister. Aang continued to watch impassively, waiting.
"We need your help. It's probably too much to ask, all things considered. But we have nowhere else to turn."
"Sure!" Toph exclaimed while Sokka blurted a hasty "No!" They glared at each other before turning to Aang. "Well?" they demanded simultaneously.
He straightened, pushing himself off the wall. "When Zuko wakes up, the three of us will talk. I'll make a decision then. Until then...can I talk to you alone, Iroh?"
He nodded and rose to his feet, following as Aang reentered the room and closed the door behind them.
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And that's that. I told you it was rushed. I'll make the next one better, I promise.
And if I can't actually make it better, I'll at least try.
Review, please?
