"Can you keep your friend away?" Zuko asked as they piled dirty dishes by the sink.

"Can't I just tell them you're good now?"

"I never considered myself the bad guy. I wanted to serve my country and prove myself to my father," Zuko said, thrusting his hands into the water-filled sink to heat it. Using his bending helped him to focus. He needed clarity for this conversation, so just this once, cheating was warranted. "Why would your friends think I'm trustworthy, anyway? I took your water bender prisoner. Do you think she's forgotten? Do you think they've forgotten the time I dragged you off into a blizzard?"

"You aren't like that any more," Aang replied with such chilling assurance he earned a glare.

"There is no proof I've really changed," Zuko whispered through gritted teeth. "You shouldn't be so ready to accept my word, either! You are a naive kid traveling with other kids. There are a lot of people out there with no problem hurting kids. Do you understand that? Lying is the kindest thing you can expect them to do to you!"

The air bender gave him a cheerful grin as well as a scraped off plate to wash. "See? If you were still an enemy you wouldn't say stuff like that."

Zuko washed the plate and set it in the other sink to be rinsed, wrestling an urge to duck the little optimist's face in the dishwater to teach him to be less trusting. The water was too hot, so he settled for rubbing Aang's head with a soapy hand.

The Avatar actually chuckled as a he blew the sudsy water from his head with a burst of air. "You still haven't told me what made you change."

"We'll talk upstairs while I clean the infirmary."

"We're cleaning the infirmary?"

"I am. It's part of my job here. You don't need to help but it is the best place to talk. People aren't allowed to just wander in and out because it needs to stay clean for when it's needed."

"Okay. Can I help, though? We had chores at the Temple so I know how."

Zuko held back a sigh. The little monk sounded so wistful that refusing would just be mean. "Fine. This floor gets finished first, though."

"Okay!"

Being allowed to clean really didn't merit such a wide smile. Zuko gave him a small one in response anyway. Aang was a nice kid. Not having to hunt him any more felt pretty good.

######################

The kid was a surprisingly efficient worker, even though Pen Tow and several other City Guardsmen distracted Aang when they recognized him. Aang was pleased by their awestruck attention, but Zuko got the impression that their expectations of the Avatar were more than a little daunting.

"Give him some time," he said. "The Avatar needs time to hone his skills, just like any other boy."

"But the war..." Pen Tow began.

"It will end. You don't expect a twelve year old to do it alone, do you?"

The guards all seemed to brighten, like they'd heard his scolding backwards or something. "No, of course not," said a gruff older fellow who'd managed not to get food poisoning at his own barracks. "When the time comes, you have only to ask, Avatar Aang. Ba Sing Se is full of your allies." The others echoed his promise in ways ranging from sober to joyous.

Aang offered the adults a solemn bow. "Thank you. I won't forget." As he straightened again he gave them one of his wide grins. Zuko could sense the worry trying to build up behind that sunny facade, like pressure building beneath a volcano's dome, but the kid was doing a good job hiding it."For now we need to get back to our cleaning!"

As they headed for the stairs, Zuko said, "Let's check on the animals first. Duckling still can't get around easily if he's thirsty."

The visit, involving fresh water and treats all around, served as the distraction Aang needed. Momo was especially distracting as he settled on Zuko's head to raid the basket in his hands. "Can he even eat cheese?"

"I'm not sure," Aang said, persuading the lemur to trade the small wedge for half an orange. Duckling eagerly struggled to his feet to beg for the tidbit. The air bender handed it over immediately.

Watching him while feeding Yangchen, Zuko couldn't help contemplating how narrow the kid's shoulders were, much too narrow to carry the world on them. It's too much. It'd be too much for Uncle, he thought.

The infirmary was currently unoccupied so there was little to do but a quick cleansing, keeping several cots made up ready for use, then checking the medical supplies that weren't under lock and key.

"Why are there bottles of water when they have a pump right there?" Aang asked, reading labels while wiping down a glass-fronted cabinet.

"That water's sterile. There's a filter built into the pumping system, but there are times water needs to be more than clean. This way the doctor won't have to boil it and wait for it to cool in an emergency."

Even with Aang's occasional pauses to satisfy his curiosity the job didn't take long. They set a couple of chairs by a window and sat. Zuko found looking out the window easier than facing the boy he'd hunted for so long.

"You were going to tell me why you stopped."

"I know! I am. It's just difficult," he admitted, shutting his eyes. He breathed, steadying himself, before beginning, "Three years ago, I dishonored myself by refusing to fight an Agni Kai, a fire bending duel. I was exiled."

"How old are you?"

When he opened his eyes, Aang was staring at him, looking confused. "Sixteen," he replied. "I was thirteen when I was exiled."

"That's too young for an Agni Kai," Aang protested with surprising certainty. "Why didn't your teacher stop the duel?"

"He couldn't." None of his tutors would have dared to challenge the Fire Lord. Even Uncle Iroh had silently watched. "What matters are my disgrace and exile," he went on in a rush, "because only one thing could restore my honor so I could go home. You."

"Me?"

"The Avatar. I had to find and capture the Avatar."

Aang's jaw dropped. "That isn't fair! How did they think you'd find me? Even I didn't know where I was!"

"Father never expected me to succeed," Zuko admitted after an uncomfortable silence threatened to grow between them. "You've seen my sister. She's a more powerful bender than I'll ever be. She's brilliant, ruthless and relentless. A perfect heir."

"She's scary. Crazy scary."

"She's not crazy!" Zuko snapped. "That is, maybe she is. Uncle says sometimes." He shook his head and said, "It doesn't matter. She's the heir my father wanted. Now he has her."

Aang looked shocked. Maybe he was reacting to the bitterness Zuko hadn't managed to conceal. "I don't like your father's idea of perfection," he said. "Your sister's, well, she isn't a very good person, is she?"

He wasn't about to tell the kid how much of an understatement that was. Aang responded to his silence by going on. "Is that why you stopped? You realized he didn't..."

Zuko spared him from saying it. "He didn't want me back." Admitting it felt like surrendering, but he had to. There were other truths he'd discovered that Aang needed to hear, because he was the Avatar and he'd returned to a profoundly unbalanced world. "It wasn't the only reason, though. There were other things, things I saw as an exile and more recently as a fugitive."

"Like what?"

Like the rampant corruption among his father's favored officers and the strange, disquieting concept of a superior element that was growing within the military. Fire, naturally. Zuko described his unease with that alien idea, which he'd only dared admit to his uncle. "He's studied old spiritual texts and the ways of the other nations. I think he," he swallowed, "I think he believes in the need for balance. In the Avatar. Only he's never said so! My uncle drops hints and talks in riddles and I wish he'd just tell me what he's thinking!"

He noticed Aang stifling a laugh and managed a weak smile in response. It felt weird. When he complained to Iroh, he got more and more annoyed and ended up shouting. Today he just went on.

"Both sides have started acting like the old rules of engagement don't apply. Civilians are being targeted and both sides are beginning to behave as if their own people can be used or preyed on." He told Aang about the new, inexperienced troops who'd been sent to the slaughter for short term advantage, the reason he'd spoken out in his father's war room in the first place. He described the Earth Kingdom soldiers he'd encountered while traveling alone, who'd bullied and stolen from the very people they'd sworn oaths to defend. There was a growing contempt within the Earth Kingdom towards their refugees, causing them to be treated more as nuisances than fellow citizens in need of help. He told Aang about Admiral Zhao's attempt at murdering him, treasonous as well as dishonorable, because he'd still been royal when Zhao did it. He tried, but couldn't speak about Shen's years of trapping refugees with offers of work, or what he took from them instead. The words clogged his throat and surely there were things an innocent shouldn't have to know.

Coward, he accused himself. What if you're wrong and he turns on Aang? He wouldn't, Zuko had concluded after seeing them together. Shen was a monster but a cautious one. Aang's position protected him because the Avatar's accusation wouldn't just be ignored. He was recognizable and traveling with devoted friends. Air was the only element that couldn't be denied to a bender and he was powerful. Shen might manage to surprise him, but defeat him? No. He could never match the kid's skill.

"Even the Water Tribe's not immune. The Southern Tribe is just a remnant of what it was. The Northerners rarely sent help South. They gave up sending reinforcements after just a few years and, as far as I know, never tried to evacuate them. How can they justify abandoning their people like that?"

He realized that somewhere during his tale he'd risen and begun to pace as he told it. He didn't bother to sit as he concluded, "It took too long to admit it, but this war isn't good for anyone. Getting in your way is a crime against the entire world, so I've stepped aside."

The poor kid looked devastated. He'd been told again and again that all he had to do was end the war by defeating the Fire Lord. As if he doesn't have an army behind him and an entire country that's been raised on stories of his greatness. Of our greatness. "I'm one less obstacle," Zuko said to cheer him up. "That's a good thing, right?"

"I didn't know," Aang said like he hadn't spoken. "I knew things were bad, but I didn't know it was that bad! I'm a failure as an Avatar. How could I let this war happen?" He was starting to cry. "We've seen things. This one general wanted me to use the Avatar State and just attack. Like at the North Pole," he added, almost in a whisper.

Zuko remembered that mountainous, glowing figure that had picked Zhao up in the midst of its attack. He remembered huddling on their raft in its aftermath. There had been fewer corpses than he'd expected, but his uncle had explained that the ones in armor had sunk. Flaming wrecks had flared in the distance while nearer hulks were visible beneath the devouring ocean's surface. He pushed the memories back (not down. His mind was no ocean.) and forced himself not to shudder.

Someone had thought more slaughters like that was a good idea? Had he even considered what that would do to Aang? The monk was shaking, eyes haunted by the very idea someone had wished to make him their weapon. Then he tried to throw himself at Zuko's feet, but Zuko wouldn't allow that and pulled the kid against him instead. "I never put it all together like that! I'm sorry," Aang mumbled into his shoulder.

"Sozin began the war," Zuko told him. He thought he should let go, they were hardly friends, but couldn't imagine pushing a crying child away like that. It would be cruel. "You've been told how it began, right? He came after your people before you even knew you were the Avatar."

"I knew. The monks told me. They were going to send me away and I ran away like a coward. That's why I wasn't there."

"Sozin was the coward, Aang. I'm glad you ran off. My great grandfather wasn't willing to face a grown Avatar so he attacked before you could threaten him. You didn't run off during the attack, did you?" He said it with no hint of accusation. Zuko knew this boy. If there had been a battle, he'd have been in it to protect his friends.

"No. But you said... If I'd been there to surrender, maybe they wouldn't have been killed." His head jerked up to stare at Zuko, eyes going wide as the thought sank in.

How could I give him such an awful idea? He worded his response with as much care as he could. "Wrong. If you'd been older, old enough to be training elsewhere, he still might have chosen to attack the Air Nomads first for strategic reasons."

"They were peaceful! We were."

Anguish was better than that self-blaming horror, but not by much. Zuko went on. "How often have I beaten you in a fight?"

"I always won!" Aang replied with a blend of cockiness and confusion that would have made Zuko smile on any other day.

"Your people were peaceful, but they were powerful, too. Powerful enough to fan our flames out of our control or to snuff them out like candle wicks. Flames need air to burn. And Sozin intended to burn his way into controlling the whole world."

Aang moved back to his chair and sat. "He thought we could stop him. But we're pacifists. They wouldn't have wanted to fight a war."

The kid was attentive, his swollen eyes thoughtful. His tutors must have loved teaching this kid, Zuko thought. "The Air Nomads might have hesitated to fight, but there were your sky bisons, too. They might have chosen to help in other ways, like carrying supplies, giving medical help, evacuating noncombatants or moving troops. It could have made a huge difference, Aang. There's more to war than the battles. My people only had the comet behind them for a short while. After its effects faded, the other nations could have fought back successfully."

"But they didn't."

"No. I"d bet a lot of it the reason was sheer terror. An entire nation destroyed in so little time, and I don't think anyone knew about the comet's impact. There were temples full of Air Nomads and then there weren't."

"It still seems like there was no reason. My people wouldn't have been fighting. I bet they'd have healed Fire Nation soldiers, too."

"Maybe. Sozin wasn't going to risk his conquest, though. And Aang? Maybe no Air Nomad would start a fight, but once you decide to fight, when you're protecting yourself or others? Air can be devastating." He flashed back to the Southern Air Temple when he and his uncle had searched it for clues. Around a single monk's bones had been piles of Fire Nation soldiers' bodies. He'd had nightmares about that terrifying strength, but in time, as he'd trained and studied, he'd begun to feel hope, instead. That powerful and courageous monk had been fighting as a rear guard to allow others to escape. Air wasn't completely gone, he'd chosen to believe. Nor was he proven wrong. Shen was proof of that.

I need to warn him, but Shen's so believable. Even the ones who knew he was using refugees would never believe he raped them. That prissy old lady neighbor of his, the constable, even his housekeeper, that horrible old hag. She'd actually helped Shen, all the while viewing his victims as whores. Why would Aang trust my word over his?

"I still wish I'd stayed. All my friends died, and Gyatso. I wasn't there."

Zuko could only try to draw him back from whatever visions he must be having of that final slaughter. "Gyatso? Was he your guardian? Your mentor?"

"Yeah. He was the best. We were together from the time I left the nursery."

The only father he ever knew, then. "I'm sorry. For everyone and everything you've lost. For what my people have done."

Aang sniffled. "It wasn't you."

"But I came to my senses too late. I'll never be able to make a difference in ending this war."

Aang stood, pacing light-footed back and forth. He paused to look out the window while he diffidently asked, "Do you really want to?"

"I'll never be Fire Lord. I'll never be able to give that order," Zuko replied.

"You don't have to be a prince to help."

Aang spun toward him to say, "I need to learn fire bending, Zuko. Could you teach me?"