(A/N): Hi guys. Sorry this took so long. Three jobs.

As always, a big thank you to Sev7n, the coolest beta ever. I'd also like to say thanks to everyone who contacted me or added me to their favs and alerts. You guys don't know how much it helps to keep me motivated and excited to write!

Firestarter

Inspired by the novel by Stephen King.

Aang

Aang felt as if he were standing in front of a blazing fire – but the heat was radiating from Zuko. The teenager appeared harmless, now crouching against the wall with his head between his hands. Calling out to him had already proven useless; Zuko was unresponsive.

"What's happening to him?" Hakoda demanded.

Usually Hakoda appeared completely self-assured, even in the direst circumstances, but for once, he appeared to be looking to the children for answers. It was the first time Aang had ever seen him that way. Of course, there was no way that Hakoda could possibly understand what was going on.

"I don't know," Aang said truthfully.

"Can't you find out?" Sokka asked, drawing up beside Aang. "You found out about all of that other stuff and made him calm down before. Can't you just… do your Vulcan mind-meldy thing again?"

"Mind-melding?!" Katara's shrill voice cut across the conversation, and the pretty girl emerged from the kitchen with a large red fire extinguisher gripped in both hands in a manner that suggested she was prepared to use it on someone. The fire alarm in the kitchen sounded behind her, as if to announce her entrance. "I'm catching burglars and fighting house fires and you guys are still talking about cartoons? And what is going on with the thermostat? What's wrong with him?"

"Vulcans aren- forget it," Sokka thought better of correcting his sister and turned back to Aang. "Well? Can you do it?"

"This is different," Aang told Sokka, "I can't get close to him."

"Are you sure you need to be close to him? I mean Zuko wasn't touching the light up there…" his foster brother gestured to the blackened remains of the light fixture on the ceiling.

"Zuko? Who… do you mean Lee did this? Then the stove…"

A sharp bang issued from the floor above and the light that had been left on in the upstairs hallway abruptly flared and went out.

"I've got it!" Katara shouted, brandishing her fire extinguisher and charging up the stairs.

"See?" Sokka seemed to feel that his point had been proven.

"I don't know what's going to happen if I try…" Aang protested, looking at Zuko with trepidation. The other boy's body had started to give off steam, as if his blood and sweat had boiled under his skin and evaporated through his pores.

"I have no idea what either of you are talking about," Hakoda stated, "but I'm starting to think that this kid is going to bring the whole building down if we don't do something. If you two have an idea, I'm all for it."

There was no denying the fact that Aang wanted to try bending again. His last experience had been frightening but, in a way, it had also been exhilarating to discover how easily he could control Zuko's actions just by knowing a bit about his past. Right now he didn't understand anything, and he found himself craving the understanding that Zuko's memories might give him.

He tried to recall what it had been like to bend in Kuruk's, and focused his attention entirely on Zuko. It wasn't difficult, considering what a spectacle the teenager was making of himself, muttering incomprehensibly and rocking back and forth on the floor. Aang remembered physically reaching out to him when he had connected their minds before, but this time he would certainly be burned if he got any closer.

Sokka stood close to Aang, prepared to catch him, but this time Aang didn't fall. He was still aware of where he was, physically, standing in the Arnaaluk's foyer, even as another part of his consciousness left his body, uninhibited by the heat radiating off of Zuko's huddled form.

And then he was Zuko.

...His father had never looked at him the same way, not after that day, long after the burns had healed and he no longer needed to wear those bandages on his hands. Mom said she knew it was an accident, and told him that his father would forgive him, but Zuko knew that it was his fault. Never, never again… He had promised her.

But now…

If I ever die… If they ever catch you…

The man who came into Zuko's room was one of three who usually escorted him to his various daily appointments. He always came in before the other two. It seemed like he made a point to stand out from them, almost as if they all collaborated to make him seem more appealing and friendly. As usual, he was smiling brilliantly, and the other two who followed him in were stoic. Good cop, bad cop. Like in the movies.

Zuko hated the ones who tried to play nice. He was only seven, but he knew that if anyone who knew what went on in this facility could look him in the eye and smile, they weren't to be trusted.

"Hey kid," he said, behaving as if neither of them knew that he had a small handgun hidden underneath his jacket, "how're you doing?"

Zuko smiled back, as he was expected to. "Did you bring me anything?" he asked.

The friendly man laughed. "Not yet kiddo," he said. "Today we have some really important tests to do. But if you do a good job I'm sure Long Feng will give you and your sister anything you ask for."

Zuko already knew about this. Since he had begun to cooperate with Dr. Long Feng, he had learned quite a bit about the facility that he was being held in. The doctor had begun to trust him, in a sense, and he had made no secret about the fact it was an important day for him. The directors were coming to view Zuko and Azula's progress for themselves.

Allowing the three men to lead him along the hallways, Zuko wondered where they would be watching from.

You promise me one thing.

They didn't lead him to the room where he usually did his tests in the afternoons. Instead, they brought him to an area of the building that Zuko had never seen before. Long Feng was waiting by one of the doors for them, and beamed when he saw Zuko approaching.

Zuko knew that he did not want to go into that room. The whole place would undoubtedly be fire-proofed, and the directors would be shielded from him, and he would undoubtedly lose his chance…

His chance at what? Moments ago, he hadn't even realized that he had been waiting, but he had been waiting for this, without knowing it.

Burn them. Burn them all.

He was vaguely aware of Long Feng screaming as his white coat went up in flames, but only vaguely. There was a strange pleasure in finally burning it down, the building that had been his prison for so long. He forgot to worry for his own safety. He should have fled the building, but he couldn't, not until they were all burned, every one of them. The command…

Burn them all. Burn them all. Burn them all!

…shook him, right down to his bones, drove him to keep burning, burning. He didn't react when Long Feng lunged towards him, still burning, at first he didn't even feel the pain…

Aang felt a cold, burning sensation strike him full in the face, and snapped awake. He was still standing in front hallway, and it took him a moment to realize that he was perfectly fine. Zuko, on the other hand, was not faring nearly so well. Apparently having decided to target the source of the flames, Katara was using the fire extinguisher on Zuko, sweeping the nozzle from side to side at a low angle to fill the hallway with a fine, white cloud of powder.

Aang couldn't see much through the white mist, but he could make out Hakoda hauling the coughing teenager to his feet and taking him out on the front porch.

"Well," Sokka said. "That woke him up."

Satisfied with a job well done, Katara set down her fire extinguisher and marched over to where the boys were standing.

"Are you okay, Aang?" she asked sweetly.

"Um, yeah!" he answered quickly, despite the fact that he still felt shaken. He glanced over her shoulder at the front door. "Is he…"

"It's just baking soda," she said dismissively, "he'll be fine."

"Still," Sokka said, obviously caught between amusement and sympathy, "you did use it pretty close to his face."

Katara shrugged. "Well, maybe he'll think twice next time he wants to steal anything in my house!"

"That was his stuff." Sokka informed her, looking put out.

"Oh." Katara looked mildly embarrassed by her brother's revelation. "Well then."

Aang felt sorry for Zuko, but he knew that it was probably a lucky thing that Katara had intervened. There was no way of knowing what would have happened if he had remained connected to Zuko's mind any longer.

Burn them.

The voice still boomed in Aang's mind. He could hear the quality of it; deep, masculine, and frighteningly compelling. The words had held power over Zuko, but Aang couldn't figure out exactly how. He wasn't even sure if Zuko had actually heard them, or if the whole thing had taken place in the other boy's imagination.

Zuko had been muttering something to himself when he had started to break down. Aang suddenly realized, with chilling certainty, what the teenager had been saying.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Katara asked, looking at Aang with concern.

Before he could answer, Hakoda stomped back into the house with Zuko in tow. Aang had never seen the scarred boy in a good mood before, but Zuko looked exceptionally miserable now. He was coated from head to toe in fine white powder. Although he had managed to get most of it off of his face, his usually fair skin was now a bright, painful-looking shade of red.

Aang thought that Katara was going to say something, but her expression became stubborn and she remained silent.

Zuko looked at his shoes. "I…" he started, voice slightly hoarse, "I probably deserved that."

He made such a tragic picture that Aang almost wanted to reassure him that it wasn't his fault. Almost. The image of a man in a white coat, screaming as he burned to death, made it hard to believe that Zuko was truly innocent.

"Good gracious, it looks like a bomb went off out here."

Everyone turned to look at Kana, standing in the entrance of the kitchen with her mouth pressed into a thin, wrinkly line. She looked like she had been through an explosion herself; her floral print apron was spattered with tomato sauce and she carried a towel in her hand that had been stained completely red. Her eyes widened when they set on Zuko.

"You're completely filthy," she told him. "The bathroom is down the hallway, to your left. Go get cleaned up. Sokka, get this boy a clean change of clothing."

"Ok, Gran, I'm going," Sokka grumbled.

"Honestly," she said, switching her attention to Katara, "playing with the fire extinguisher! I thought I'd raised you better than that. We're having Chinese tonight, go find that phone number for me."

"Yes, Gran-Gran,"

"And you," the elderly woman jabbed her finger at Hakoda, "are going to take a look at that stove! The burner just exploded a moment ago – sent my good pot flying across the room – nearly lost my arm…"

"Coming, mum."

As the Arnaaluks all cleared out to complete their various assignments, Aang was left standing in the hallway with Zuko. The teenager gave his backpack one last, long mournful gaze before turning to Aang, looking away, and then finally slinking off to the bathroom as he had been told to, obviously feeling too exhausted and sorry for himself to think of any alternative course of action.

(A/N): This writer is fueled by reviews.