A/N: Little drabble-shot I dreamed up a little while ago.

"Hey."

Aang looked up, half-startled. Silhouetted against the blue moon was the barely perceptible outline of his firebending Sifu. Dressed in his usual crimson breeches and vest, the teen had left his dark, quiet room to embark on a midnight stroll, which somehow had landed him in the house's ample central courtyard.

The airbender averted his gaze, responding only with a half-whispered "Hey, Zuko."

The exiled prince shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He could read the hurt and pain in his friend's voice, and see (albeit dimly) the tension in the airbender's huddled posture. Genuine concern welled up in the firebender's heart, and he scraped together just enough courage to speak up.

"Aang, it's late. Everyone else is asleep. Aren't you tired?"

"N—o," Aang replied tersely, his reply broken in the middle by a wide yawn.

Zuko's eyebrow rose skeptically, and the airbender sighed in defeat. "Well, maybe just a little."

The firebender sat down on the earthen steps beside the Avatar.

"What's bothering you?"

The question was a quiet one, asked with the utmost sincerity, and Zuko never expected the explosion that followed.

"What's bothering me? What's bothering me?" Aang's gray eyes hardened, and he was on his feet before Zuko could blink."Maybe seeing a dramatization of me and all my friends dying has something to do with it! Maybe seeing the only girl I evertruly loved portrayed as a blubbering ice-witch has something to do with it!" the airbender's voice rose in volume sharply as he went on angrily, "And afterwards, maybe getting a dose of the possibility of those horrors actually becoming reality is what's bothering me...!"

Aang trailed off, his breathing rapid and uneven. He occasionally hiccupped as he fought back a wave of sobs that threatened to overwhelm him. Collapsing to his knees on the steps, the airbender buried his face in his hands.

Zuko sucked in an uncertain breath and clasped his hands together, trying to absorb the meaning of his friend's tirade and sort out how to go about comforting him.

"Look," the firebender began, moving forward to place his hand on Aang's shoulder consolingly. "It was just a stupid play, soaked with Fire Nation propaganda. Those playwrights don't know anything about us…all they know is what my father feeds them."

Sniffing, Aang rubbed the tears from his face with a sleeve. "It's just so hard, you know?" he whispered, his voice quiet and husky with pain.

Zuko sat back, leveling his gaze with his friend's. "Aang, I do know. Watching that wasn't any easier for me than it was for you. But I won't let it discourage me. If anything, seeing that senseless garbage makes me even more determined to prove everyone wrong. And you should be too. We're at the helm of our own destinies."

Blinking slowly, the corners of Aang's mouth turned up, and he brushed the last of the tears from his eyes. "Thanks Zuko."

The firebender smiled one of his rare smiles, and sat back on his heels. "And listen," he added, "Don't worry about Katara. She'll come around."

Aang reddened.

Before the airbender could respond, Zuko was gone.

Lifting his gaze to the dark midnight sky, Aang sighed, tugging his crimson cloak tighter around him as the evening wore on.

A/N: Heh, I think Iroh's wisdom is starting to wear off on Zuko. :D