Writer's Note: A prompt from Floranna, wondering what would have happened had Mai joined Zuko in his banishment. I kept this one short and sweet, since SaraJayechan has already done it (and done it better), but I still wanted to write it, so....here it is!

Warning: Contains spoilers for Book One: The Storm.

"Absolutely not."

Mai's eyes narrowed, her nails digging into her palms. "I'll pretend you didn't quite hear my question and I'll ask it again."

"Don't even," her father snapped, throwing his hand out in frustration. "The fact that you have to ask makes me think we're not teaching you properly."

"Really," her mother said, sounding wary. "Asking such a foolish thing. How ridiculous."

Something inside of Mai snapped. "You're right," she said, straightening up. "It was silly of me to ask."

Her parents seemed to both relax.

"I'm not going to ask. I'm just going to go."

She turned on her heel and stormed out of her home, barely fourteen and already an adult.

Zuko was stuck in the middle of a fever dream. He was hot, and sweaty, and he couldn't breathe. All around him were shadows, and everything tasted of ash. The shadows suddenly merged and became his father. He stumbled back, tripping on the cold marble floor, back in the stadium and helpless, held immobile by his father's impassive face, but Ozai's hand went out and grabbed onto his face, and he screamed and screamed and—

"Wake up, Zuko. It's a dream."

The voice was so familiar it hurt. He had to still be dreaming. There was no way this piece of home had followed him into this metal hell of pain and suffering.

But the hands on his forehead and bare scalp were cool and light, not like his uncle's warm and wide touch, and he opened his good eye, his heart racing.

Yellow eyes under a curtain of black bangs met his gaze. Her face was drawn with sadness, but when she looked at him, there was no disgust or pity. "Hey," Mai said softly.

"M-Mai," he stammered, unable to control his voice. His throat felt thick and sore at the sight of her.

"Yeah," she agreed. She moved her hands from his forehead to his hands and held one of his between them, stroking his palm gently, as if they were still in front of the turtle-duck pond. "I hitched a ride. I've always wanted to travel around."

Zuko stared at her. He was never sure when she was teasing him or being serious, and he wished he had some kind of indication, especially now. "You…you what?"

Mai leaned in close, so close that he could smell her skin and her hair, and he reddened, wishing he could sit up and touch her, wishing he could do something, but he was still too weak and tired from the Agni Kai.

"You forgot something," she said softly, a small smile on her lips.

Without thinking, his hand jerked up to his chest, palm brushing over his breastpocket, and to his surprise her eyes danced in delight. "No, I know you have that," she said. "You forgot something else, something more important."

"What?" he whispered.

"Me," she replied, leaning down and kissing his dry and cracked lips without hesitation.

Iroh was wonderful – really and truly – and Zuko knew that he would have lost his eye without him. He would always be grateful for that.

But it was Mai that made the treatments a little more bearable.

"Focus on me," Mai advised, watching with a pale face as Iroh picked up a small and very sharp knife. Zuko winced and grabbed her hand, gripping onto it tightly, and she held his hand between hers, stroking his fingers once more. "Talk to me. Tell me things. Keep talking."

As Iroh cut the dead skin away from the area around his eye, Zuko managed to blurt out words through the agony of it. Most of it was incoherent, things about turtle-ducks and Azula and his mother and the like, and the whole time his hand gripped hers so hard she lost feeling in her fingers. Tears ran down his unburned cheek and his good eye stayed closed as he ranted, and for the first time, Mai felt a surge of real violence cascade through her, violence towards the man that did this to Zuko – his own father.

When he was done, Iroh gently stroked Zuko's sweat-soaked forehead, trying to calm him down before he bandaged the wound up. Zuko shook from head to toe and didn't open his eye, but he kept talking, delirious with pain, now, and Mai lowered her head, her own eyes filling with silent tears.

"Mai."

She jerked awake, sitting up quickly, her hands going into her sleeves. "What is it?" she wondered, unable to keep the sleepiness from her voice. "Find anything?"

And then her eyes focused and she realised who it was. "Zuko?" she blinked, bemused. "What are you doing? It's the middle of the night!"

"I…I know," he answered, sounding confused as well. "Can I come in?"

Mai blushed, suddenly aware of her loosened hair and even looser nightgown. "Uh, I guess?"

He did so, creeping slowly into the small chambers. She had tried to make it something of her own in these past few months, but it was still rather stale as far as a room in a ship was concerned. Still, she didn't mind too much – it was hers, and hers alone, and that was what counted.

She pushed the sheets away from her and sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the futon, her bare feet meeting cold steel. "What's wrong?" she wondered, for one look to his face revealed that something was wrong.

He sat down beside her without asking, something she found oddly normal. He put his head in his hands, his fingers pressing down hard onto his naked scalp. His bandages were still there, but they were getting smaller, which was nice to see. Carefully, she put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, and he relaxed.

"I keep thinking it's not going to happen," he said finally.

Even though he didn't elaborate, Mai knew. "You'll find the Avatar, Zuko," she said softly. "You have to."

Zuko shook his head slowly, not looking up. "I know I have to. But I just…think it's not going to happen."

Mai considered. "And if it doesn't?"

He looked up suddenly, his good eye blazing. "If it doesn't, I won't have a home to go back to!" he snarled, jerking away from her touch. "If it doesn't, I'll be banished forever! I'll never get my honour back, never get my place in the family back! I'll just be a joke to him, always!"

Mai tried to bite her tongue, knowing that she was bound to fight a losing battle. But the words came out anyway. "The honour of a man who burns his own son is worth less than the dirt on this ship."

Zuko jerked away from her like she had slapped him, and perhaps she had, with her words. He looked hurt for a moment, his eye going wide and his hands held out in front of him, empty and shaking.

"But…he's my father," he whispered.

Mai's heart wrenched deep in her chest. She reached for him again, and this time he fell into her arms, clinging to her tightly and burying his face into her shoulder. His sobs were soft, and he shook hard, but he didn't surrender to them. She held him close all the same.