It was the darkest night Katara had ever seen.
She was shivering beyond control; her bones were rattling in her skin. She wished she'd maybe taken a blanket with her, because she was still in her sleeveless top, with her stomach bare as well.
Although she was still angry, still confused, she wanted to ask Zuko to make some heat happen, but every time she tried to plan what she would say to him in her head, she sounded more and more idiotic.
A tear or two managed to escape her eyes, but she wasn't willing to believe that she was crying. It's just cold, she told herself. I'm cold.
She didn't want to acknowledge the fact that she missed the Fire Nation's heat – it was always better to be warm than cold – and she felt ashamed that the time spent traveling with Aang had softened her toughness towards the wintry North.
I'm rushing things, some part of her mind spoke out. Katara had no idea where the thought came from, but she knew without doubt that it was true. She'd been counting the days as best she could, and she filled with contempt when she realized that she and Zuko had dragged each other to various places; the most extreme being traveling to Ba Sing Se overnight.
Now they – she was attempting to do the same, but this time the Southern Water Tribe was her destination. More water went down her cheeks, and she was thankful that the temperature wasn't freezing. If I had my Water Tribe clothes, I'd be fine, she grouched.
Aaaand she was crying. She couldn't blame it on the wind hitting her face any longer, because real tears were now gushing out of her eyes. Gripping the reins in her hands, she pressed Appa onward, not wanting to give herself away to Zuko.
The prince was sitting behind her. Even though he hadn't said a word, she knew he wasn't asleep. And he's probably keeping himself warm, she thought bitterly. She gritted her teeth and huddled closer to Appa, trying to make it look like she was concentrating.
Brushing aside the idea that she was failing to convince him – if he was even looking at her – Katara's pride backlashed on her. Fighting against a dangerous shiver, she tried to wipe her eyes inconspicuously.
Pretending to tuck her hair behind her ears, she scrubbed her hand under each of her eyes. It's windy, she thought. If Zuko had noticed her crying at all, she was grateful that he wasn't saying anything.
"Are you cold?" Zuko asked.
Woops. Spoke too soon.
She lowered her head, trying to think of an answer that would be both logical and convincing. No would be completely transparent; if Zuko was asking, then he must've been cold, too.
Katara could feel his eyes on her and knew that he probably saw her shaking. A little bit would've been see-through, too, then. She ruled out all her options and squeezed her eyes shut in hatred for herself, then said, "Yeah."
She cleared her throat and was surprised to feel a blast of hot air come her way. It hit her back and blew her hair over her shoulders, and although it was warm, it only lasted a moment. The place where her hair had been resting against her back was instantly cold, and she shuddered in delight at being warm, even if it was just for a fleeting second.
"Thanks," she managed, her voice weak. She was worn out from everything that had happened – not just over the past two weeks, but over the entire time she'd known Aang. And as everyone kept telling her, everything that she'd experienced was all leading up to the biggest thing – Sozin's comet.
She felt Zuko's weight roll towards her in Appa's saddle, and flinched as his voice came from closer than she expected. He was sitting to her right, not close enough to touch, but he spoke quietly and he was close enough to hear. "Where are we?"
"I don't know," she shrugged. Zuko breathed more steam and her back muscles clenched as it hit her. "Look, Zuko, I d-don't wanna talk…"
"You don't have to talk," Zuko said to her relief. He blew more air at her, and in between breaths he added, "But I will."
Katara forced herself not to groan; now was not the time to be rude. She was too cold and too exhausted and too frazzled. Another tear slipped down her cheek and she prayed that he wouldn't notice it.
"I'm sorry," Zuko began. He exhaled again and she turned her face away, wiping the itchy tear stains away as she once again pretended to brush her hair back.
"What are you apologizing for?" she whispered, unable to look at him even though she so desperately wanted to. Was he smug, or sullen? Did he have tears in his eyes?
"Everything, I suppose," he said thoughtfully. Katara was outraged at him for sounding so damn content, but she didn't dare speak, for fear that her voice might break and her breath might hitch, and she might find herself falling towards him, searching for comfort that he might not give and that she knew she didn't deserve.
Her silence didn't register to him, because he went on speaking as if she'd told him to. Closing her eyes, Katara couldn't do much more than listen as he said, "I'm sorry for trying to hurt you guys. You and the Avatar especially, though; I had the most run-ins with you two."
She shifted her weight and was almost able to glance at him, but lost what little nerve she had at the moment. Zuko continued, "I'm sorry for trying to kill you in the North. I'm sorry for abducting…Aang. I'm sorry for disappointing my uncle and siding with Azula in Ba Sing Se."
"I…" she began, but his next steam exhalation took away her words.
"Let me finish, please," he said calmly. "I need to do this."
"Okay," she whispered, nodding.
Zuko cleared his throat and spoke up a little. "I'm…also sorry for making you stay with me. I'm not sure how it would've played out if you'd been with your friends when my sister came along, but I can tell how much you miss them."
Her head bobbed up and down again; her silent way of telling him that she was listening.
"I'm sorry for allowing us to get captured by June after I got you away the first time," Zuko went on.
"That's not your fault," Katara said. She was beginning to warm up without his aid, but was still glad that he was…breathing on her.
"I'm still apologizing for it," he replied. "And I'm sorry for asking you to come with me to see my uncle. I know he probably didn't seem like a lot of help to you, but he was to me. And he was the 'new bidder' that June was talking about – remember? He asked her to find me, and she found me with you, so she told him that, and he added you in as well."
"Why?" Katara asked, taken aback. She hadn't known that at all, but she wished that she did so she could've thanked Zuko's uncle while she was around him.
"I don't know," Zuko said. His weight rotated a little to the right of her, and his voice was closer the next time he spoke. "I suppose it was because June mentioned all the trouble I went to escape you from her, the first time. He probably thought I had business with you, and he was right."
Katara pondered that idea, then shrugged. "I'll have to thank him," she said, although Iroh's plan hadn't actually worked out. Maybe if June hadn't been so horrible and actually told them what was going on, Zuko and Katara would've gone with her willingly. It definitely would've saved some time.
"Me too," Zuko agreed. "I forgot to. But that's not the point."
"The point?" Katara repeated, finally getting up the gall to spare a peek at him. His amber-colored eyes were burning with something she didn't recognize, and he was staring straight through her. Gulping, she turned her face away again.
"The point of this conversation," he supplied, breathing outwards again.
"And what's that?" she asked, trying not to sound pushy. Both of their feelings and tempers were too delicate right now to deal with each other's usual rushing habits. And her mother had always told her not to pry; she'd done so anyway, but now she finally realized what her mother had meant.
Subliminally, she knew what the answer was, but her conscious mind was too proud, too afraid to think for one moment that she might be right…but she was.
"The point," Zuko said, his words suddenly choppy, "is that I'm not sorry for…kissing you. I wasn't when I said that it was fine. And what I'm really sorry about is that I said it was fine, even though it wasn't. It's not," he added.
Katara would've liked to pretend that she didn't understand, but she did. Oh, she did. And she swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat, blinking away more tears, and said, "I'm sorry too."
"I know," Zuko said. "And I think you should know that I don't regret it. I don't wish to take it back. I just think we weren't…ready."
She couldn't even fathom all the things that were loaded into those sentences, but she felt the chip fall off of her shoulder, taking a shard of her freezing, burning heart with it. Steeling herself, she tried to breathe slowly, tried to keep her tears from him.
His voice came from a little farther back from before, and she realized he'd probably just turned his head. But what mattered was what he said, because that was the thing that made her break down. What he said was, "And, Katara…? I'm sorry for making you cry."
Her heart seized up and her brain did too; her hands tightened as she bent forward and choked on the lump of tears that was her throat. Katara sobbed once, and she felt Zuko's weight come closer, felt his hand on the small of her back, and she wanted so badly to slap it away, to push him away, but she couldn't bring herself to do so.
Taking her arm, Zuko guided her backwards, wrapping her in his own arms against his chest. He tucked her head under his chin and exhaled steam over the both of them, shuddering at the heat when she did.
Katara squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face with her hands as sob after sob racked her body; she knew she shouldn't be crying so hard, not over this. She attempted to sit up and away from Zuko, but she was so exhausted, and he was so warm…
"Why do you have to be the bigger person?" she asked through her tears, once again unable to open her eyes and look at him. His arms and chest stiffened around her, but she knew that he was only confused, not angry. "It seems like you've only been right, these past couple weeks. And I want to know why," she pressed on, pausing to breathe in those short gasps that overtake everyone when they're having a good cry.
"I'm not," Zuko said, answering both questions at the same time. "You know I'm not."
Katara could only shake her head, thinking of how unfair this was to him – he'd been hurt more than she had, but somehow still, he was the one comforting her? "Why are you so forgiving? Why aren't you the way I remember you?" she got out, even though she was done asking him these questions.
They felt like accusations to her, but she couldn't stop herself from saying, "You're too…you're too kind."
Zuko wasn't sure whether or not she wanted him to answer her questions, because by this point, she was blubbering, but he did anyway. "I don't think I'm particularly forgiving," he said. "Nor do I think I'm kind."
Katara took her hands away from her face, stealing a peek at him from behind her fingers, and then tried once again to wiggle out of his embrace. "You're supposed to be awful," she blurted despite herself, even though she was starting to calm down. "Why don't I want to get away from you?"
He had no answer to either of those questions, and he let her go when he decided that the worst was over. It'd been a while since he'd seen a girl cry like that – Mai had never done so, Azula just wouldn't cry, and Ty Lee was never serious. Thinking back to the times where he had seen a girl cry like Katara just had, Zuko realized that it had been when he and Azula were only about five and four years old.
Having almost forgotten that there was a time when his younger sister was innocent and vulnerable, Zuko blanched at the wonders of how she got to be where she was today.
Sokka's eyes were sunken in and colored dark purple; the chains that bound his wrists to the post behind him dug into his flesh, making him bleed, but he'd gotten used to the pain. He was vigilant when it came to staying awake, but that didn't mean he wasn't exhausted.
Having no idea how many days had passed – and it had been so long, Sokka was feeling more and more helpless. He wished he could bend, so he could make something move – anything. Aang breathed out huge, gusty sighs and Toph kept putting dents in the metal floor with her feet, but Sokka was only able to sit.
He felt the itch.
It was a deep, internal itch, way down in his gut, his organs. It filled him with a thing that felt like dread but wasn't. It twisted up his stomach so he could barely eat the rations that he was spoon-fed.
Sokka was embarrassed. Not just by being chained to a post and unable to help his friends for what felt like a week, but rather, the fact that he had to be fed like a mother would feed a baby – by the enemy.
He was humiliated, mortified, that he couldn't stand up and fight. He would struggle against his bonds and wrestle with the guards when they took him to the bathroom, but the strength that he had – the strength that was made up of good meals and confidence – was slowly diminishing.
Sokka felt that strength vanish like he'd felt Suki's absence. Sometimes he would think of her; if she was in a room like this, being beaten and chained just for him. No, he and his friends hadn't been hurt other than the blisters made from the chains – it was odd. Azula would come in, smile wickedly, and then leave, sometimes taunting Aang, sometimes not saying anything.
Weakness and fright defined him now, and for that he was ashamed. Where was the man that his father had brought up? Where was the warrior that had brought himself up when his father was away?
He wanted nothing more to be home, to be safe. He wanted Suki, and he wanted Katara, and although he loved Aang and Toph, sometimes he imagined what it would be like for himself if he'd never met them.
Maybe he and Katara would've been better off, but something told him that sooner or later, the Fire Nation would've attacked, and Katara wouldn't be enough to defend the entire village. It was one thing to have strong men with swords, but against flame, against benders in general, it was much harder. And the Fire Nation had a reputation for giving more than was welcome.
Gritting his teeth and pulling defiantly on his bonds – still, Sokka felt his face flush with a rage he'd grown accustomed to over his week or so in captivity. He glanced to his right, and Aang was asleep – how could the kid be asleep?
Toph was grunting quietly every now and then, tapping her feet on the ground and clenching her jaw in a different manner than Sokka – concentration. Why can't I be putting myself to use? thought Sokka, pained at the fact that he was more or less useless.
Why's it never me? he asked himself bitterly. Why am I never the hero?
Strong. He was supposed to be strong. He was supposed to be a fighter. It was in his blood. But his dignity was gone, taken away in the same chains that kept him on the floor. His heart was stone; his blood ice cold. It'd been a long time since he'd seen daylight, and a longer time since he'd felt needed.
I'm the oldest. I'm supposed to look out for the youngsters. But look at me – Aang and Toph are chained up, probably feeling worse than I am, and Katara's gone. Missing. This is my responsibility, my duty to my father and to the world. But here I am, messing it up. I mess everything up.
Katara. He didn't know how long it'd been since he'd seen her, but he missed her like only a sibling could. It didn't matter whether or not they fought. It didn't matter whether or not they were always in sync with each other like other siblings sometimes were. What mattered was that they were supposed to look after each other, take care of each other. And yet all Sokka could think was that Katara had been right – they should've stuck with her at the temple.
Having no idea how they'd managed to get so far apart, Sokka thought of his father. Show no fear, Hakoda had said when Sokka's training sword had wavered. Have no doubts. Every day, Sokka wished he could be his father; wise, decisive, and loved. A true leader.
Sokka slumped. His head hung low and he felt his hair flop forward; somehow it'd been shaken loose of its tie. A small tear escaped his eye, but he didn't move to brush it away. Some small amount of pride was birthed within him, from the memory of his father leaning down and telling him, "Whoever said it wasn't manly to cry was a coward."
And if anything, Sokka was not a coward.
The muscles in his jaw jumped, his whole body jumped, aching for freedom. Don't give up, don't back down. Strong like a fighter. Strong like a Water Tribe Warrior.
"Guys," he said, eyeing the door. He didn't have to look to know Aang had awakened, and now the Avatar's and Toph's heads were both turned towards him.
"Yeah?" Aang squeaked.
"We're getting out of here." Sokka's face darkened with determination, and any thought of escape he'd had since being placed in the large cell, any observation, suddenly clicked together in his head. He'd formed bits and pieces, but now they all were fitting together, right into place, and he was growing hopeful; his strength had returned…If only his father could see him now.
"You said that yesterday," Toph grumbled. She was unable to see Sokka's malicious grin, but that didn't take away the strange vibes she got from his direction as he gave his retort.
"Today, I mean it."
Toph harrumphed, feigning disinterest, but secretly she wondered what Sokka had in mind. She wasn't sure if he was aware, but he mumbled every now and then; incoherent probably to Aang, but Toph understood, clear as a bell, what the older boy was saying.
The lantern the door Toph the bracelet the chains metal floor wooden post no fire the lantern at sea Aang waterbender. The words Toph knew better than to pay attention to were things like Katara, Suki, Dad, and my fault.
Sokka was no longer slumped. Using his legs to wiggle himself around his post until he was facing his friends, he demanded, "Toph! You're trying to bend the metal, right?"
Toph shrugged. "I can bend the metal," she replied indifferently. "A little bit."
"Then bend off the chains," Sokka ordered. "They're made of metal, right?"
"Obviously," said the earthbender, dragging out the word for emphasis. "But I'm not that good, yet." Her cheeks colored a slight pink, and she turned her face away so he wouldn't see. "Believe me, I'm working on it."
Sokka seemed unfazed by her confession. "Good! Keep working. I've got an idea," he said.
"Obviously," Toph muttered under her breath, twisting her hands around to grasp the cuffs that bound her to the pole behind her. Grunting, she squeezed and pulled, willing the metal to do as she pleased, but came away still chained.
There was, however, a slight dent in one of the chain links, from where she'd tried to pinch. The corners of her mouth turned up a little, and she set to pinching her chains.
Sokka focused his eyes on Aang, who was sitting and frowning at the floor. "Aang," he addressed, leaning forward intently. The Avatar turned to stare at Sokka, his big, gray-brown eyes becoming almost too wide. Sokka blinked, trying to think. Then, he opened his mouth. "How good of a waterbender are you, by now? You're pretty decent, right?"
"Katara says I'm a master," replied the boy, looking away. "I thought you would know that."
"Just checking," Sokka said. "Listen, do you think you could make an air bubble underwater for us to travel in?"
"Of course. But where would we go?"
Sokka was stumped for a moment. Running over the list titled Places We've Been that he'd made, he grimaced as he realized that there was, more or less, no place where they could both be safe with allies and hide successfully from Azula.
"And what about Katara?" Aang continued. "We don't know if she's on this same ship or not! They could be keeping her in another room and, and hiding her from us, and hurting her, and—"
"Shut up," growled the older boy, waving his hand to both silence the Avatar and clear away the nasty thoughts about what might be happening to Katara. He tried to concentrate, but then his eyes found Aang's face once more; the airbender was staring at him oddly.
Then he realized just what Aang was staring at. In fact, Sokka couldn't help but stare himself. His eyes found his hand, large and tan, and grew wide in complete surprise. Waving his hand around again, he stretched his arm outward and flexed his wrists, mouth falling open into a huge, unflattering gape.
He heard a small clink and then lifted his other arm, staring helplessly at his hands, noticing the small trickles of blood that had dried along his arms, from the blistering of the shackles. "Toph," Sokka said, turning to stare at the earthbender, who was grinning from ear to ear. She wiggled her fingers in the air and chuckled, moving to Aang.
"How'd you do that so quickly?" breathed Sokka, still bewildered.
"All it needed was a little pinch," Toph replied offhandedly, as if she were instructing someone on how much flour to put into batter. "Literally."
"That's…amazing," Sokka said. "Wonderful."
"Why didn't you just do that before?" asked Aang as soon as his own wrists were free. Bringing them to his chest, he rubbed at them and winced.
"Why don't you just become a master earthbender?" Toph hissed back, silencing the Avatar. The look he gave her in apology was one that said, Touché.
The three moved around the room, making sure there were no other possible exits rather than the door and the vent directly above it on the wall. There were a few empty crates that were so feeble, the wood couldn't even be used as clubs. All they really had were the lanterns, which were shaped like miniature torches with glass on the top.
"Do we get out now, or wait for them to come back and then get the jump on them?" Aang asked, stealing a peek into the air vent.
"That all depends on whether we can open the door," said Sokka. Shouldering past the younger boy, he placed his hand on the handle of the door, gripping it tightly in anticipation.
"It's a little too late for that," Toph chimed in. The boys turned to look at her, and she tapped the floor with her foot. "Someone's coming."
Hastily, the three scooted back to their posts, grabbing up their chains and making themselves look believable; vulnerable.
The large metal door creaked open, sending shivers down Sokka's spine, and he lowered his head, but raised his eyes to glare at whoever was stepping over the threshold. Glowering, he didn't have to act sullen as Ty Lee sashayed into the room, all smiles and giggles and waves.
"How's everybody doing?" she asked in a circus-y, fake voice. Smiling too widely, her eyes moved from each of the captives' faces to the next. Ty Lee then pretended to pout, placing her fists on her hips and sticking out her lower lip. "Come on," she began. "Some smiles wouldn't hurt!"
"Bite me," Toph snarled from the far right. Making a show of struggling against her chains, she lunged for Ty Lee.
"No!" Ty Lee mock-argued. "That's unladylike."
"Let us out," Aang ordered, shoving aside the girls' previous banter. Ty Lee's doll-like eyes snapped to him, and she grinned, shifting her weight around on her feet.
"That's actually what I'm here to talk to you about!" she said. "So be a good group of kids and listen up—"
"I'm older than you!" Sokka hissed a little too quickly. Flushing, he chastised himself for finding such petty thing to say. Trying to cover it up, he said, "No one cares what you have to say. 'You'll never get away.' 'Your struggles are all futile.' We've heard it all before, from Azula." He spat the name as if it was a foul-tasting seed.
Frowning, Ty Lee shook her head. "Actually, no. But I understand where you're coming from."
"What?" Sokka asked. "That makes no sense. You couldn't possibly understand—"
"You know what I really hate?" Ty Lee interrupted. "Rude guests. But still, we manage to get a lot of them. As if people don't have any respect for the family who's trying to take over the world – and winning."
Sokka shut up. Not because he thought she was right, but instead because he found he had nothing to say to that.
"Thank you," said the girl. "Now." She cleared her throat, swallowing heavily and glancing at the door, as if she expected someone else to walk in behind her. "Um, I've just received word from Mai…"
"No one cares," Toph growled, and Sokka's head snapped towards the earthbender. She continued vehemently. "Either let us out, or leave."
"You're not exactly in a position to give orders, here," Ty Lee announced, looking down at Toph as if the younger girl were simply a fly. "What I was saying was that I've just gotten a letter from Mai, you know, my friend…Well, she just talked to Zuko, and apparently he went to Ba Sing Se afterward."
Sokka rolled his eyes at her conversational tone, then watched as she examined her nails. Deciding that she wasn't going to continue unless pressured, he said, "And? We care because…why?"
Ty Lee giggled as if he'd just told a joke. "Be-cause, your little waterbender friend is with him!"
"What?" Sokka and Aang shouted simultaneously.
The circus girl raised her hands, trying to hush them, and glanced again over her shoulder at the door. "Shh! Keep it down! I'm not supposed to be here!"
Sokka's eyes narrowed in suspicion; this was getting to be a little too fishy for his detective tastes. "Then hurry it up," he muttered, wishing that she'd just get out of their sight already. "Please."
"Okay, okay, jeez," replied Ty Lee. "Well, Mai said that they seemed cozy, which I guess means that Zuko's turned to the good side. But that other girl is with him and they went to go see General Iroh – he's Azula and Zuko's uncle – and I guess that's it?"
Groaning, Sokka slumped back against his post. He was getting tired of pretending to be shackled. All he wanted was to pummel Ty Lee hard enough to escape, but he doubted its possibility, since she was incredibly nimble.
"Why are you telling us this?" Aang asked, because Toph and Sokka were too annoyed to do so.
Ty Lee knelt, then sat with her legs crossed, almost directly in front of the younger boy. "Because Mai and I…we…uh…don't follow Azula anymore."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Toph asked harshly. "You're still on her ship and doing her bidding. Liar."
"I'm not a liar!" Ty Lee protested, raising her hands, then awkwardly lowering them when she realized that Toph wouldn't see. "My alliance lies with Mai. She's my only true friend. Azula's just…she just orders us around, like dogs. And we're sick of it."
"That's great," Aang said, trying his best to be nice and patient. "But still, what does that have to do with us?"
"It has everything to do with you," Ty Lee said, eyes widening, like she was shocked that he hadn't understood her yet. She splayed her hands on the ground. "Listen! Here's me and Mai and Azula," she began, removing her shoe and setting it in front of her right knee. "And here's you guys," she added, taking her other shoe and placing it in front of her left knee.
Then she made a fist. "And this is Zuko!" she said cheerily, extending her index and middle fingers so that the figure had legs. She made it walk, from the left shoe to the right shoe. "See? He joined you guys!"
Sokka scoffed. "Please," he said. "I'm begging you, stop trying to be humorous. There's a reason you're not in the circus anymore, and your lack of funniness must be it."
"That's rude," Ty Lee replied, scowling. Jumping up, she slipped her feet back into her shoes and said, "The point is, that Mai loves Zuko, and she's chosen his side over Azula's."
"So all three of you just up and left the Princess?" Aang asked politely, his brow furrowing in confusion. "But you're still helping her!"
Crossing her arms defensively, Ty Lee said, "We have to protect ourselves."
"Well, thanks for the news! Now leave," Toph urged.
"Toph," Aang murmured. "She's trying to help us."
Smiling gratefully, Ty Lee winked at the young boy in front of her. "Avatar's intuition?" she guessed jokingly. Aang smiled half-heartedly up at her. Uncrossing her arms, the girl said, "Mai asked me to help you guys get out of here."
Astounded, Sokka blinked slowly. He hadn't expected this, from Princess Crazy's best friend of all people, but still, here it was, happening. But… "How do we know we can trust you?" he asked, testing the waters.
"I give you my word," Ty Lee said simply, as if it meant something. "You have to trust me. Otherwise, you won't be able to get out of here. And you won't find Zuko and the waterbender."
Grunting, Toph stood up, revealing her unbound arms to a distressingly unsurprised Ty Lee. Nonplussed, Toph strode over to the girl as the boys reluctantly blew their covers as well, and said, "We obviously can get out of here. And the waterbender? She has a name. And that's Katara."
Ty Lee's eyes went round with alarm, but she stayed quiet. Sokka approached the girls, checking on Aang over his shoulder before saying, "I don't like this."
"No one does," Toph replied sharply. "So just go back to your princess," she spat at the older girl standing next to her.
"Toph," Sokka said tiredly. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he stated, "We don't really have a choice." Feeling Toph's withering rage seep off of her skin, he added, "We don't know our way around here. And she can get us passage if we need any."
"No," the earthbender flat-out denied. "We can do it. By ourselves."
"You really can't—" began Ty Lee.
"Shut up," Toph ordered.
"She's right, Toph," Aang said with the same fatigue that Sokka carried in his own voice. The older boy was a little shocked that a kid so young and happy could sound that way, but then he realized that it was the cause of the war. It was too much stress for someone so young (even though, technically, Aang's age surpassed everyone else's by about a hundred years).
You grew up too fast, Sokka thought sympathetically. We all did.
"We'd better go," Ty Lee said nervously. "That is, if you'll follow me."
"I wouldn't count on it, sweetheart," Toph said fiercely.
And that was how they embarked on a heart-pounding mission through the inner corridors of the steam ship. Everything was made out of metal, and Sokka had to whisper to Toph to make sure that she didn't leave evidence of their passage.
It was hot and Sokka could feel every inch of himself emitting sweat, but he didn't complain as they followed Ty Lee through the halls. Behind her was Toph, and then Aang, with Sokka bringing up the rear.
The boat had obviously been docked, but Ty Lee said nothing about their whereabouts, and in fact, didn't say anything at all. She was frowning with concentration, and would wave them into an empty hall before inconspicuously taking out many of the guards that seemed to be wandering the ship in search of something to do.
"I told Azula they should go in pairs," she muttered under her breath, brushing her hands against her pants and stepping over the latest victim. "I told her that if they were by themselves, they'd be easier to get around. Maybe it was just fate that she didn't listen."
After a long and intense journey throughout the ship – the Avatar and his friends must've been at the very bottom – Ty Lee came to a staircase. Pressing a finger wordlessly to her lips, she crept up the stairs and opened what looked like two doors. They were built into the deck so that they flapped outward, and the girl had to check to make sure that they were clear of any soldier's view.
"Luckily for us, we're behind the room on top of the ship," she said, obviously having no knowledge of what anything on a boat was called. "It's shadowy and we'll make a nice, clean exit."
They jumped up onto the deck, lending each other a hand as they climbed out, and Sokka was relieved to see that Ty Lee was right. He tried to brush away the feeling of this all being too easy and followed her towards the edge of the boat.
"Where's Azula?" he asked, unable to get rid of his suspicion. He calculated Ty Lee's mild reaction; the way her eyebrows went down and her eyes narrowed, her arms tightened and she glanced around as if she were equally suspicious.
"She had business on land," Ty Lee supplied. "And we have to go before she gets back."
"I don't believe her, Sokka," Toph muttered to the left of the older boy. "This isn't right."
"I'm telling the truth!" said the other girl impatiently, once again throwing her hands up in surrender. "I just want to get you out of here, so I can get to Mai."
"I believe you," Aang said, and Sokka had the horrible realization that the Avatar was still too naïve to be a leader in this day and age. But, as it ended up, Ty Lee was indeed telling the truth, and they left the shadows of the boat via an air current provided by Aang.
Their feet daintily touched the ground; Sokka let go of Toph, who he'd clutched to him so she wouldn't panic with the suddenness of being airborne, as Ty Lee made a sound of interest and said, "Woah. That was cool."
"Thanks!" Aang said brightly, and the sun filtered through the clouds that had, unsuccessfully, lined up to block it out. Sokka stared up at the sky, and for the first time in two weeks, he was glad to see the light of day.
He felt the Fire Nation sun on his face with a pleasure that was one hair shy of excruciating pain. The hairs on his arms rose in the simple delight of the warmth whose cause wasn't a nearby fire.
It was the brightest day Sokka had ever seen.
Author's Note: Woahhh longest chapter so far. But I hope you're glad to see a little of the rest of the Gaang! The next chapter provides a lot of plot twists, so be ready :) Also, I just wanted to say that I'm really proud of the contrast in the first line of this chapter, and the last line. "It was the darkest night Katara had ever seen." - "It was the brightest day Sokka had ever seen." Because Katara and Sokka are both feeling like shit, but where Katara's losing faith, Sokka is clinging to his hope. I just wish that these days and nights were the hardest for the siblings in this story, buuuuuuuut unfortunately, most of the chapters from now until what I've planned for the end are pretty dark for them. Angst angst angst, y'know. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this and are looking forward to my next chapter! Reviews are always nice!
