A/N: Ollo! (Haha, sorry. I couldn't help myself.) I love this chapter with a passion. 8) Hope you all do, too!

Disclaimer: I'm about 99.9 percent sure I don't own ATLA.

B-L-A-C-K-O-U-T

"We've been waiting for you."

HOW TO CAMP OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE OCEAN

"I don't think I deserve it.
Selflessness."
-Devil Wears Prada

One thing that I had definitely not counted on was Mrs. Yuumi's life-threatening lack of tea brewing skills.

"I never was as good at it as Iroh was," she told Kaida and I in a sort of apology explanation. The shadowbender stared down into her still-full cup with a wary expression, as if she was waiting for someone else to try their's first so she didn't have to, but smiled at the old woman nonetheless.

She looked a lot better than she had just one short hour earlier. Mr. and Mrs. Yuumi had immediately brought us aboard the ship, showing us to our room - only one room, which I was still not particularly ecstatic about - and helping us clean up. She was in new clothes, now, having thrown out the tattered shards of what was left of her dress, and her hair was still sopping wet from washing her cuts and scrapes out. We looked embarrassingly like medical patients, though, completely covered in wraps and bandages. But I couldn't really complain, seeing as we looked a lot more presentable than we had when we got there.

"That's okay," Kaida answered slyly, leaning back into her seat a little. "Zuko is terrible at it, too. I could drink anything by this point."

I huffed, closing my eyes. Despite being slightly calmer now that we had boarded the ship and were ready to go, I was still far too on edge about my uncle's whereabouts to bother arguing. The violent scenes from the entire afternoon replayed themselves in my head over and over again, refusing to allow me even the tiniest hope of a break. I doubted that it would stop; not until we had left port with Uncle, at the very least.

"Quit worrying, sparky," came Kaida's remark after a minute of speaking with Mrs. Yuumi in the background. I looked over toward where she sat with her arms crossed, my expression guarded. She simply smirked like she always did. "He'll be fine." Somehow, the sincerity in Kaida's eyes was flawed, though. It was like she was trying to convince herself of this fact as well. None of us were completely sure what was happening at the moment, and I was going crazy trying to think of anything but what my sister was capable of doing to a sixty year old man with no one else around to help him.

Finally, unable to sit cooped up in the tea room for a single moment longer, I stood from the table, bowing respectfully and retreating up to the top deck. At least there I could sit on the side of the ship and watch nobody board, instead of imagining it. After all of the chaos, it seemed more than a little strange that the sky should be so clear; that the sun should be shining the way it was. It was a beautiful day out.

And I hated it.

I walked around to the side of the ship facing away from the land. My hat had blown off somewhere during the chase across Ba Sing Se, and I wasn't about to get caught all over again just so that I could be slightly more entertained by my view. My muscles tensed as I slung my legs over the edge of the railing, refusing to allow my body to relax for even one short second.

My head was still reeling - had been reeling ever since we boarded – and, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make it stop. There was too much going on. How had this all started, anyway? Who could I blame? I tried to pinpoint somebody in particular, but the culprit was not a single person. No, everyone was responsible in some form or another. Azula, Uncle, Kaida . . . and me. There was a time when I would have been far too proud to put the blame on myself, but I could feel that changing as well. I was responsible . . .

A seagull flew over the smokestack, carefully arching its path to avoid drifting into the toxic cloud escaping it.

"Missing something, Nephew?"

The voice was unconcerned, as if genuinely curious whether or not I was missing something. I turned, disbelief propelling my legs back over the side of the ship and onto the deck in record time. Uncle, somehow managing to stand right behind me for who-knew-how-long, placed my lost hat on my head, smiling. I shook my head, pulling it off to look up at him in complete shock. A decent amount of crimson was dripping off of his wrist, but he didn't appear to be concerned about it. I was about to demand an explanation when Kaida's unmistakable voice echoed from the stairwell leading up from the floor below.

"Zuko, if you don't quit your moping, I swear I'll-"

She cut off, stepping into the sunlight, her eyes falling on Uncle in sheer disbelief. But the look only lasted a few moments before turning into complete and total outrage.

"General Iroh," she began in a rushed tone of voice, her use of his title making it very clear that she was not happy with him. "How dare you leave me with nothing but two and a half hours and the name of someone I don't even know, while you go off and fight the biggest lunatic on earth, send sparky into a freaking depression and me into absolute confusion because no one has any sliver of an idea what to do, and then come back with that stupid look on your face like-"

"Okay, okay," Uncle intervened, holding his hands up in apology. "I'm sorry, Kaida. I didn't mean to worry you two so much." I raised an eyebrow at this newfound discovery. Apparently, Kaida had been more concerned about my uncle than she had been letting on. The shadowbender crossed her arms, sighing.

"Alright," she replied slowly. "I'll forgive you under one condition."

"And what is that?" Uncle asked curiously, shifting his weight.

"You're replacing Mrs. Yuumi as tea brewer."

B-L-A-C-K-O-U-T

The last chord of Iroh's fire nation folk song rang clear through the cold night air, the flames of the on-deck fire pit making the shadows play across his weathered features dramatically.

I wondered idly if he was messing with the fire intentionally for the purpose of being theatrical, because it seemed almost too mesmerising to be a natural flame. I hugged the thin blanket closer to my body, grinning along with the elderly general and Mr. and Mrs. Yuumi. It was unlawfully cold out in the open, but I was in such an incredibly good mood that it didn't bother me so much. I had always kind of liked the cold, anyway. It cleared my head; helped me think.

Out over the railing, the seawater drifted by like the sound of a hundred people shush-ing us. The city of Ba Sing Se was long out of sight and out of mind, replaced by the wonderful feeling of freedom as we crossed the vast expanse of midnight black water between the earth kingdom and the fire nation. This was calm; this was neutral.

This was a time to let all the stress go.

Iroh fingered the instrument in his hands softly, picking out the notes to a much more soothing song than the lively one he had just graced us with. Yet another surprise from the dragon of the west: he was a fairly decent musician. I got the feeling that there was a whole lot about him that I did not know. An icy wind whipped through my hair, freezing my ears as it passed and making my nose sting a little. I shut my tired eyes, letting the music take me away from that place, and into a world where I could stay forever if I wanted to. Sounds and voices faded gradually into the background of my mind. My head slowly rested onto my knees as I half-consciously listened in on Iroh's conversation with the Yuumis.

". . . went through Hisoka a week or two ago. They were celebrating their annual lantern festival," Iroh conversed lightly over the calming music, his voice drifting through my ears like a lullaby.

"Oh, really?" Mrs. Yuumi inquired her voice equally as soft. They all sounded as if they were talking over a sleeping infant; as if they might disturb someone or something if they spoke any louder. "We ought to go there for the next one, don't you think, dear?" Mr. Yuumi murmured his consent.

My head was filled with the crisp scent of burning wood and Iroh's rhythmic strumming, which swirled around and made me slightly dizzy.

". . . beautiful sight. The paper lanterns and fireworks went on until well past midnight . . .

The moon was strung high above us, illuminating the expanse of the deck with its milky glow. For once in my life, I was completely cut off from the land-bound shadow creatures. For once in my life, I wasn't wandering around at night, trying to set up shadowbent barriers to protect myself or anyone else.

". . . got into a bit of an accident while we were there, though. It was . . ."

My eyes opened with a bit of effort, looking just past the small circle of gossiping old men and women to scan the perimeter of the deck.

". . . had to go out and find her before something happened. She was a pretty mess when Zuko carried her into . . ."

Over on the railing, a lone figure sat watching the blanket of pitch black ocean drift by at its own steady pace. His silhouette was all that could be seen with the reflection of the moon on the surface of the water, eyes trained somewhere on the horizon.

". . . sat in the room for the longest time after . . .

I picked my head up off my knees, standing up a little shakily and pulling the blanket around my shoulders like a travelling cloak. My bare feet shifted on the icy deck, drawing the attention of my quiet circle.

"Going to bed?" Iroh asked with a smile. I huddled into myself, shaking my head no.

"Not yet."

I didn't say anything more, assuming that he knew where I was going already. He had a way of knowing everything like that.

I walked silently up to the railing near the bow of the ship, feeling puddles under my feet where the sea water had splashed up on deck. The wind from the ocean got stronger, tugging at my hair and the material I had wrapped around myself with the scent of sea salt caught in its breeze. Whether he was aware of my approach or not, I wasn't precisely sure, but I lifted my legs over the ledge regardless, sitting next to him. My hands folded neatly in my lap, instinct still trying to lift my body temperature up a couple of degrees, and my feet hung over the side of the ship, feeling strangely vulnerable without something to rest on or hold up.

"You really hate socializing, don't you?" I asked, smiling out at the place where the ocean and the sky should have been separate, but weren't. Zuko's expression seemed to soften, or, at least, that was what it looked like in the dim light. "Why don't you come and sit with the others?"

"Sometimes I need to think," he replied, looking as exhausted as I felt. I turned my head to look straight down into the depths of the seemingly-endless ocean, an interesting thought crossing my mind.

"What is it you think about so hard, then?" I inquired, speaking my thoughts out loud to him. Internal debate raged in his eyes, clearly over whether to answer my question or not. Obviously, the fire prince did not have much experience when it came to 'sharing his feelings.'

"My father," he said shortly after an empty minute, his voice catching. It was difficult to tell whether he sounded angry with himself, or firelord Ozai. Perhaps he was upset with the both of them.

"Daddy issues . . ." I muttered in understanding. That was one thing that I could relate to. My father . . . well, just the thought of that man made my blood boil; made my chest heat up and my teeth lock together.

"Yeah," Zuko replied, turning the word into a bitter sigh. He ran a hand through his dark hair, shoulders hunching forward slightly.

"So that's how you got the . . ." I left the sentence unfinished, fingertip going to my left eye; right where Zuko's scar would be if he copied me. For a second, the prince seemed a bit surprised at what I had managed to piece together, but tore his gaze back out to the sea again.

"I spoke out of turn at a war council," he explained carefully, his gold eyes going distant at the memory. "They were going to send a group of new recruits in as a distraction; sacrifice them."

My eyes widened at this. He had only spoken a total of two sentences, and I was already surprised at the direction his words were taking. Zuko's eyes narrowed into the dark as he continued.

"I was ordered to participate in an Agni Kai-"

"A what, now?"

"A firebending duel," he corrected himself automatically. "With the general that I had spoken out against . . ." The prince looked away distractedly.

"So, what . . . he won?" I ventured, taking a wild guess.

"No," Zuko responded, his voice growing thicker with what I supposed to be emotion. Was it really that embarrassing that he could get so choked up about what had happened?

"He lost . . . ?" I contradicted my previous guess. Zuko looked at me finally, his ember eyes worn out.

"It was my dad."

It took a moment or two for his clarification to make sense to my over-worked mind, but, when it did, a number of things started to piece themselves together in my head, falling steadily into place. He was so bitter about moral things, all the time, and now I understood why. What kind of logic did that give a kid? Do the right thing, and we'll banish you from your only home? Stand up for your people, and we'll give you the permanent mark of a traitor that you'll be forced to wear around for the rest of your life? It was a wonder he wasn't completely corrupt, which must have been what happened to Azula.

"He told me to get up and fight him," the prince continued distantly. He was completely dazed, no doubt needing a decent bed to sleep on for the first time in weeks. "But I . . . I couldn't. I couldn't physically force myself to fight my own father like that."

"So that's why he banished you?" I asked, a sharp hiss escaping from in between my clenched teeth. "Because you wouldn't fight him? That's . . . crazy." The prince smirked a little, as if he found my irritation with his dad's motives amusing.

"He called me weak," Zuko continued, as if this helped make sense of Ozai's actions. "He said that I needed to grow up. He thought that sending me out after the avatar would fix the problem."

"He was wrong . . ." I muttered offhandedly.

"Maybe," Zuko considered, "But I was ready to believe it." Clearly, in the prince's mind, that fact made him just as insane as his father.

"So, that's it," he informed me, frankly not wanting to talk about his past any more. I looked out to the indiscernible skyline again.

"My dad was a firebender, too," I said finally, feeling strangely inclined to reveal a portion of my own history with the prince. He had, after all, bothered to enlighten me. I supposed it just felt like my turn. Zuko didn't say anything in response, but his light ocher eyes slid over to mine, evidence that he was listening.

"He snuck off with one of the fire nation's southern water tribe prisoners; my mom," I continued, fiddling with the small, silver key draped around my collarbone. I hesitated, unsure whether or not to continue. Was I really even at liberty to tell my own story? After all, my own father – despite the fact that he was a lying, cheating, cowardly, little weasel of a man – had not been nearly as cruel to me as Zuko's had been to him. My own sufferings could never measure up to his; not in that department, anyway. I was fairly certain he didn't want to hear about my-

"What happened," Zuko asked, his hoarse voice surprising me. I turned to him quizzically to find that he was watching me, now. Interesting.

"According to my grandmother, there was a raid of their camp out somewhere in the earth kingdom; a group of fire nation officials looking for Asoka – my dad," I explained, hearing Iroh begin a new song out on the deck. "And, well, let's just say he didn't stick around to see everyone get killed."

I looked up at the sky, locating and drawing out the outline of my favorite constellation in my mind. Distractions, distractions . . .

". . . I'm sorry," Zuko said, his voice rough. How silly of him to apologize for something that he didn't to.

"I never knew either of them; my parents," I replied, smiling broadly. "That's why I'm trying to rescue Leila and my grandmother and not going after my dad." Even though I hadn't seen my parents since I was three years old, I couldn't be sad or miss them, because there was nothing there to miss. It would be like trying to mourn at the funeral of someone I never knew; empty, stupid, useless.

Impossible.

Satisfied with our little chat, I kicked my legs back over the railing, jumping down off of the ledge. Zuko made no move to get up, still lost in his own thoughts, I was sure. I began to walk toward the stairwell and down to my – our – room, but paused a few feet away, looking back.

"Oh, and Zuko," I called back. He didn't turn, but I knew he was listening.

"I like your human side."