038. Abuse: Zuko had gotten used to it. (Rated for mentions of child abuse)
-oOo-
No matter what he did, he just never seemed able to please the man. Zuko had long given up on trying to impress him, now the ten year old chose simply to just not anger him. It was a lot harder than one would think. If his father wasn't outright ignoring him, than he was watching him with the eye of an eagle-hawk, just waiting for him to slip. It was too much pressure and he had broken under it so often.
Mother was gone without explanation. Uncle rarely left his room since his return. Lu Ten was dead and never coming home. Azula wouldn't look at him anymore. Father only ever hit him; that much didn't change.
Zuko applied the aloe to the burns on his wrist. Father had gotten especially angry. Zuko made the mistake of crying when the man struck him. What he'd been struck over, Zuko didn't even remember. All he remembered was that he had pleaded for the man to show mercy. In response, Ozai had dragged him off to a more private spot to 'deal with his son'.
No one in the palace did anything to stop him. The staff all turned their gaze and the council members there for whatever reasons looked pleased that the delinquent prince was getting his due. Zuko had been afraid as he often was.
Wrapping the binding around his wrist, Zuko grimaced at the pain. It was nothing compared to the pain in the lower half of his body. That was throbbing with such a passion that Zuko was fighting back tears. It hurt to stand but he knew it would hurt more to sit. He took to dealing with his injuries one at a time. He had enough experience with his recovery that he knew what to do. No ten year old should know how to deal with these injuries. No child should ever experience what he had.
He blamed himself. As he secured the bandage in place, Zuko blamed himself. Father wouldn't have gotten so angry if Zuko was just better. If he was stronger. It he wasn't such a child. The man had said those words and many more enough times for them to be beaten into the young boy's mind.
Wrist dealt with, Zuko looked at himself in the mirror. There was a bruise forming on his cheek and another along his chin. Just under his eye was bleeding and already turning bright red around the cut. He could hardly feel the pain in his face anymore. It was dull compared to the rest of his body.
Looking over the injuries, he knew no one would speak against them. Father would admire his handy work next time he saw his son. Azula wouldn't look at him and if she did, she'd just leave the room. Uncle wouldn't leave his room so he'd never see.
No one spoke out against the abuse. Mother had but she was gone now. There was no one who could stand up for the child.
Pressing a finger against the bruise, Zuko winced at the pain. Under the current forming bruises, were those of prior. The left over marks from the last time he had 'gotten out of hand'. He sighed, looking down at the jar of aloe and noticed that he was running low. He had just enough to put on his current bruises but he would have to go to the infirmary and try to weasel a vile out of the doctor there. They were under strict orders not to assist the prince when his injuries were due to punishment. Thankfully, they were more merciful than his father was.
Dabbing his fingers into the sticky substance, he began to rub soft circles over the largest of the bruises. This had become a weekly ritual for the young prince. He, like every time before, wondered if maybe he would learn from this punishment. It wasn't likely as he seemed to keep doing whatever it was that made his father so mad. So he resigned himself, knowing that until he found the right line to toe with the man, that this was just something he'd have to get used to.