Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender, but I am the keeper of Zuko's defiant breath on the ASN forums. My sister's keeper of his handstand in The Beach. I'm so jealous.

It is for us to pray not for tasks equal to our powers, but for powers equal to our tasks, to go forward with a great desire forever beating at the door of our hearts as we travel toward our distant goal. - Helen Keller

Chapter 12 – Affliction

Zuko startled to the sharp sound of piercing screams reverberating off the metal walls of the ship. He had no doubt that the shrill echoes belonged to the only female aboard. He was sure that none of the men on his ship would have been capable of producing such a sound. Moments later, he slammed open the door to the infirmary. The scene he interrupted was almost comical. Shin, holding a small cloth in one hand, had his arms raised in self-defense. Debris covered the floor around the corner in which Shin was backed into. Kaiya was standing on the cot, holding—well, he wasn't sure what she was holding—but it was clear she intended to use it as a projectile against the unfortunate doctor.

"What is going on here?!" Zuko's yell directed at the cowering man.

"He was trying to peel my skin off!" Kaiya shrieked without taking her flashing eyes off her target, her face flushed with a mixture of panic and self-preservation induced adrenalin.

"I began the treatment, like I told you before, and she... became violent," Shin said with as much dignity and professionalism as he could muster from his corner, with clothing disheveled and hair standing on end.

Zuko had to restrain himself from breathing fire as he exhaled, a low growl escaped his lips instead. Shin was an excellent doctor, knowledgeable and efficient, but there was a reason the man's duties confined him to the ship. The man could not handle confrontation.

"Get out."

"But Prince Zuko, the treatment cannot be delayed any further. The scar will restrict movement if I don't—"

"I know," he said, the commanding tone of voice effectively silencing the doctor. "I'll take care of it." Zuko waited until Shin closed the door behind him before he turned back to the girl still perched atop the bed, though she had lowered herself into a half-kneel, the hand that held the would-be weapon had fallen inoffensively to her side. "You will not conduct yourself like this on my ship," he said without emotion. "It is only by my mercy that you are receiving this care."

"Care? He—"

"Silence!" he shouted, taking a threatening step forward.

Kaiya flinched noticeably at his outburst. Zuko waited for compliance before continuing. "You will yield to whatever treatments Shin deems necessary and," he said motioning to the wreckage behind him, "you will clean this up." Before she could open her mouth to protest, he continued, "Or I will leave you at port where you'd be lucky to find a place to sleep." The threat in his voice was perfectly clear.

She opened her mouth to retort but then closed it. A deep frown settled across her face, the harsh lines of a scowl stripping away innocence and youthfulness like a harsh summer sun. Finally, her face relaxed and gaze fell submissively to the floor and she conceded to his ultimatum with a nod, the tight line of her mouth signaling that she would pose no further argument.

"Well?" he prompted.

She mumbled something unintelligible, her eyes never lifting from her downcast stare.

"What?"

A slight pause and then, "Yes, Prince Zuko."

"Good, now lie down."

Her head shot up at that, but Zuko had turned to retrieve the rough cloth Shin had discarded and the bowl of water that had surprisingly survived the assault inflicted upon the rest of the room. When Zuko turned back to Kaiya, she had lowered herself to the cot, but was still sitting up, facing him, her golden eyes wide in question.

A low growl of annoyance escaped his throat. "Shin explained this treatment to you?"

Kaiya shocked Zuko by looking away guiltily, a slight blush spreading across her face, "He might have," she said haltingly.

"He might have?"

"Um, I didn't hear everything he said. I kinda stopped listening when he began talking about training his pet gila-toad."

That tension headache Zuko had felt on the deck was returning now full force. "Well, now would be a good time to start listening. The scabs over your burns have to be removed—"

"Wait, what!" she interrupted. "That's barbaric!"

"If they're not removed," he continued impatiently, "the scar that forms will be too tight. You will be unable to extend your arm anymore than you can now."

"How do you know?" she asked stubbornly.

"..."

"Oh." Embarrassed by her own question, Kaiya rolled obediently onto her back and stared awkwardly at the ceiling.

She tensed when Zuko lifted her hand and when the rough cloth brushed against her burn, she jerked her arm away.

"OW!" she cried out, clutching her arm protectively to her chest.

"Be quiet," he hissed, roughly taking her hand back. "This has to be done for you to heal correctly."

She clenched her jaw and sent him a freezing glare.

Easily ignoring this, he set to work scrubbing away the blackened skin and crust from the wound that marred her wrist and forearm. With each swipe of the cloth, more raw, red skin was revealed. Surprisingly, throughout this process, Kaiya remained silent. Her eyes stayed tight shut and the hand that was held in Zuko's returned his grip with crushing force; whether for comfort or retaliation, he didn't know.

By the time he finished, Kaiya was trembling uncontrollably and path of her tears left red streaks across her face. He applied an ointment to the burn and wrapped the tender scar in gauze before moving to her other side.

"Please stop." Her voice sounded defeated, weak and breathless with exhaustion.

"I can't. I already told you..."

"Just for a minute," she added desperately. "Please."

So he waited. When her trembling had ceased and her breathing steadied, he lifted her other hand. "I'm going to start on this arm now. Try to stay still and quiet."

She nodded, but had to bite back a scream as the torture began anew. Her eyes locked onto his for a moment before he turned his attention back to the burn. After working on her wrist for several minutes, he looked back at her. She was biting her lip against the pain and tiny beads of dark red blood had started to form from the abuse.

"Stop that," he said, dropping her arm angrily, "I'm trying to help you."

"You're hurting me," she answered, her voice as acidic as his.

"I can't help that."

Now frustrated with her, he quickly finished the treatment on that arm and hastily wrapped her wrist. Without pause, he moved to the wound on her shoulder. Beginning at the burns that spread across her bicep, he cleared the burn of scab and crust. No longer trying to be slow and gentle, he rushed to complete the task. Up and over her shoulder, the cloth left her sensitive skin gleaming a garish crimson.

When he reached the junction of her neck, she began to squirm. Her legs shifted and strained, heels pressing into the surface of the cot. Her reactions had become so transparent that Zuko could almost feel her pain building. Trying not to notice the way her breathing was now ragged and forced, he continued with slightly less fervor.

As he slowed down, he noticed the light in the room dim. Looking up, he focused upon the room's lanterns. The flames held within were behaving erratically, flickering low and then flaring brightly before waning once more. He ceased his ministrations to watch the flickering and jumping which continued for a moment before becoming still. The candles burned regularly as if they had never been disturbed. His gaze shifted from the lantern to the girl and back.

Keeping his eyes on the now steady flames, he drew the cloth across her neck.

"Stop!" she shrieked, forcing his attention back on her. Tears flowed freely from her fiery eyes as she stared at him with intense desperation."...stop," her voice now broken and pleading.

Zuko stepped away from her and out into the corridor, his mind racing. He remembered the unnaturally powerful drain those very lanterns had exerted on him the day before.

She couldn't be, could she?

The sun was low in the sky by the time Longshot made it back to the hideout. He brushed determinedly past several of his fellow Freedom Fighters who stood gathered around the entrance to Jet's hut. He failed to notice that they all seemed to share his grave demeanor; that the customary triumphant raucous was absent and in its place forlorn and unnatural silence had fallen.

Jet sat shivering, hair still damp, with a blanket draped across his shoulders; an unhealthy pallor had replaced his usual ruddy complexion. He started when Longshot abruptly entered the room and jumped back with a yell of indignation when a wad of filthy material landed in his lap, but his anger faltered when he caught the intensity of the other boy's glare.

Slowly, Jet picked up the cloth and held it at arm's length. "What's this?" he said with his usual arrogance, but as the cloth fell open his eyes widened in shock, comprehension settling in his mind; the shape and color of Kaiya's tunic clearly recognizable despite the damage. Jet was on his feet in an instant.

"Where'd you get that?" he shouted as he advanced aggressively.

But no answers would be found in Longshot's gaze, only blatant suspicion.

"What do you want me to say? I don't know how this happened!" he said, thrusting the shirt at Longshot in emphasis. Then Jet saw a conflicting emotion suddenly exposed in the younger boy's eyes, one he'd never seen there before. Jet followed Longshot's unshielded gaze to the singed and bloodstained material.

"Oh, I get it," Jet said, the sneer in his voice matching the one on his face. "Makes perfect sense."

Longshot's expression turned dark, menacing, but the increased hostility did not phase Jet, nor did it temper his response.

"You might want to rethink your loyalties. She's not who you think she is. She betrayed us."

In a flash of movement, Longshot had Jet by the throat, shoved against the wall, the challenge in his eyes unmasked and dangerous.

"Get off me!" Jet yelled, pushing back. "Fine! You want to know the real reason why she didn't come back that night?"

Longshot stepped back.

Jet took his time, rolling his shoulders as he pushed away from the wall and making it perfectly clear that an unspoken boundary had been crossed and another such attack would be met with like violence. "While Kaiya and I were out on our little walk—oh, and by the way, the next time a girl wants to lead you somewhere, you might want to hold on a little tighter. But anyway, we were attacked. They knocked me out and when I came to, she was bending, firebending." He said the last word slowly, the hatred saturating his voice. "Your little girlfriend was one of them all along. No wonder she—"

Jet didn't get to finish his sentence before Longshot's fist connected with his jaw, knocking him to the ground. By the time his vision cleared, Longshot was gone, the cloth at the door swinging in his wake.

Jet rubbed his jaw as he picked himself up. He was about to go after Longshot, but realized Kaiya's shirt was still in his hand. His anger quickly receded and his hard expression shifted to one of uncertainty. He thought back to that night.

She was fine when I left,, a little beat up from the fight, but nothing serious.

Looking at the ruined garment, he turned away from the door and sat back down.

"Uncle, while I was treating Kaiya's burns, the flames seemed to react. I don't think it was me."

Iroh followed Zuko back to the room. Kaiya appeared to have fallen asleep. Her face had relaxed and her breathing was slower, deeper. Zuko picked up a new cloth and nudged her side. Her eyelids flicked before she focused on the boy at her side.

"I must finish now."

Fear sparked behind her eyes and her breath quickened in anticipation of the pain. Zuko glanced at his uncle before he lowered the rough cloth to the vicious red burn that stained her neck.

As soon the treatment was over, he placed a clean dry cloth across the burn. Zuko looked up to see his uncle eyeing the girl critically. Iroh motioned for Zuko to follow him out into the hall.

"Well?"

"She's a firebender."

Author's Notes

Whew! Okay, that's going to be the worst of Kaiya's torture. I really hope I didn't go too far with that, but in my defense, I did base this off of truth. A few years back, my friend's father was burned in a terrible accident and she told me of the awful therapy that he had to endure. It was actually very close to what I wrote here. Horrible, I know.