Twenty-eight
It took them a while to get back to the apartment, and Zuko had lagged behind more than once. Maya had asked him multiple times how he was feeling, but he'd just shaken her off – no surprise there. But he had not tried to push her away when she'd let him lean against her. Uncle slowed down for him, studying him closely a few times, but had said nothing about it.
Uncle smiled as Zuko trudged into the apartment, dragging his duel-swords behind him. Maya kept a hand on his back. "You did the right thing," Iroh said as he shut the door. "Letting the Avatar's bison go free."
Zuko didn't seem to hear him. He placed a hand on his head. "I don't feel right." His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and Maya caught him just he began to fall. He was heavy, though, and all she really did was ensure that his didn't slam into the end-table next to him. Instead, he tried to brace himself on it, and only ended up pushing the vase off the table. It shattered on the ground as he passed out completely, and Maya lowered him to the floor.
"Zuko!" Uncle cried, and ran to him. He knelt down beside him and Maya let go of him so Iroh could look at his nephew. She had no idea what to do, or why Zuko had suddenly become so sick and weak. She blinked away her tears of concern. Uncle knew about this sort of thing. He'd help his nephew, Maya knew. Zuko would be all right. He had to be.
Zuko had a fever. He lay sweating and shivering under the blankets Uncle had placed over him, while Maya just sat and twiddled her thumbs nervously. Uncle dipped a rag into a bucket of water, wrung it out, and placed it on Zuko's forehead. "You're burning up. You have an intense fever. This will help cool you down."
Zuko opened his eyes for the first time in half an hour. "So thirsty," he murmured, voice grating. He pushed himself up, and both Maya and Uncle placed a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back down.
Uncle reached for the bucket and ladle, dipping the spoon in and pulling out. "Here is some clean water to drink." He placed a hand on Zuko's back and helped him to sit up just enough to drink. "Stay under the blankets and sweat this out." Zuko greedily grabbed the ladle from Uncle's hand and slurped up the water. It ran down the sides of his face. He tossed the ladle behind him, turned, and grabbed the bucket, pouring its contents down his throat, and all over his chest. When he had drained it, he also threw the bucket behind him, clearly delirious, and laid back down, curled around himself.
Uncle looked on in concern and pulled the blanket up around Zuko's shoulders. Maya sighed and resigned herself to sitting up all night and watching him.
Some time later, as Maya sat watching Zuko with Uncle, she noticed the Fire Prince's face scrunch up, as if in intense pain. She placed a hand on his face gently, but that didn't do anything — not that she thought it would. He continued cringing horribly, and making noises in his sleep. She got the feeling he was having a pretty shitty nightmare. Concerned, she attempted to shake him awake. He did not awaken, and Uncle warned her against trying again. Whatever he was going through, he needed to go through it completely, and alone. She didn't like it, but she would heed Uncle's words regardless.
That night, Zuko was finally well enough to sit up and drink something, and Maya couldn't have felt more relieved. Well, maybe if he was completely over his sickness she'd feel better, but these things took time. Zuko smiled tiredly at her as Uncle poured tea into a cup for him. But she could tell he was still feeling the affects of his sickness. She gently touched his face in encouragement as Uncle began speaking.
"You should know this is not a natural sickness," he said. "But that shouldn't stop you from enjoying tea." Uncle turned towards Zuko with the teacup in his hand and placed his other hand on the back of his nephew's head to help him sit up.
Zuko took a sip, and then asked, "What… What's happening?"
"Your critical decision, what you did beneath that lake, it was in such conflict with your image of yourself that you are now at war within your own mind and body." Uncle made Zuko take another sip of tea. He needed to stay hydrated if he was going to fight this off.
"What's that mean?" Zuko asked, voice scratchier and quieter than usual. He coughed into his fist afterwards and curled up on the bed mat again, continuing to cough, shoulders shaking from the effort.
Maya placed a hand on his shoulder to let him know she was there and he seemed to calm down a bit.
Uncle looked down at him gently. "You are going through a metamorphosis, my nephew." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "It will not be a pleasant experience, but when you come out of it, you will be the beautiful prince you were always meant to be." He reached for the wet washcloth beside the bed mat and wiped Zuko's brow for the hundredth time that day.
Zuko quickly fell asleep again. Maya let out the breath she did not know she'd been holding and looked up at Uncle. She opened her mouth to speak, but she had no idea what to say, and closed it again with a sigh. Uncle placed a hand on her shoulder for a moment, and then poured the both of them some tea while Zuko continued to sleep.
Another night passed, in which none of them slept soundly. Zuko would groan and sweat in his sleep, and Uncle and Maya would awaken to care for him. Neither of them spoke much to each other, though there were sad, encouraging looks passed between them. Eventually, Maya was able to get a small amount of sleep, but it seemed she had just closed her eyes when she was awoken by Zuko yelling.
She sat bolt upright. Uncle was still asleep, but Zuko was sitting up, breathing hard, and staring ahead at nothing. He reached up to feel the scar on his face, and his eyes closed. He breathed easier afterwards. And by the next morning, his fever was gone.
