gemsofformenos: The memories and sensations are actually not Azula's though that would have been an interesting POV to work with. They are the sailor's memories. And thanks again. Action isn't my favorite thing to write, but I think that this one turned out pretty solid. "There is still the hope alive that Sokka is somewhere." That she was able to rescue the sailor was huge for her, as you said, she sees it as a competition. And it helps her to face her fears and traumas and to beat them. "She has survived the fight with the ocean more than once." She's on her way to be a coast guard lol. "Awesome chapter. Take care of you and keep on having fun with your stories." And thanks again, I hope that you had a lovely weekend.

kingeddie16ne: Thanks, I feel like a redeemed/protagonist Azula would be the protective sort.

They have trouble getting him to eat, anything they feed him seems to come back up again until they settle for giving him liquid food in small amounts; applesauces and oatmeals with a fair amount of tube feeding. She doesn't like the sight of it.

They tell her that she doesn't need to be here, that she is well enough to go back to the hotel so long as she takes it easy. But she remains at the hospital, at least during visiting hours.

"No one has claimed him yet?" She hears one nurse ask.

"No, not yet." Says the other.

"And no ID?"

"All of his IDs and paperwork are probably on the ocean floor with his boat."

The pair enter, a stout man with a clean shaven beard and a fleshy face and a woman, just as stout but rather petite. The man checks over the feeding tubes while the nurse checks over the patient himself.

"Has he woken up at all?" The woman asks.

"Not while I've been here." Azula replies.

Deciding that everything is in order, the doctors step out once more. She looks at the time, she ought to be heading out herself. She waits another few moments before pulling out her phone, it rings several times before Zuzu answers. "Why are you answering father's phone?"

"He and Jet went for a swim." Zuko replies. "Do you need me to tell him something?"

She hears the boy stir in his bed. She lowers the phone for a moment before replying. "Just tell him that the sailor is waking up, so I might be here for a little while longer." She doesn't wait for a reply before she stuffs her phone back into her purse.

She wanders over to the bed. The boy squeezes his eyes tighter before opening them. They are tired and gentle and a very vivid blue. Azula swallows, they are a very familiar vivid blue. She takes his hand, wondering how it had taken her this long to recognize him.

"Gee…" he speaks, his voice hoarse and weak. "Guess the town motto is true, 'all waves lead to Port Tui-La.'" He tries to laugh but his mouth is too dry.

She hands him a cup of water and waits for him to swallow before saying, "we're not at Port Tui-La." She wants to hug him with a tightness that will assure her that he won't leave again. Even if she had both of her arms free to use, she worries about pressing on his sores the wrong way.

"Then where are we?"

"A small resort island called, Su Oku."

"You think that I could get a pina colada with this hospital banquet." He gestures to the oatmeal.

"I think that you couldn't keep a pina colada down if they gave one to you." She replies. It is unfathomably amazing to hear his voice again. To hear those stupid and poorly timed jokes.

"What happened to your arm?" He asks.

"It happened while I was saving you. You ass."

"Now that's no way to treat a guy in a hospital bed. That's not how you…" he pauses for another drink. "Greet someone that you haven't seen in months either."

"It's a perfect way to treat an imbecile who promised to take you out for a birthday

dinner and stood you up for months."

He makes a gesture as if to slap his forehead but thinks better of it at the last moment, "Ah shit, I forgot your birthday."

Azula could slap him. "We thought that you were dead, Sokka." She whispers after the humor fades. And suddenly it is overwhelming. The notion that she is going to have to speak with Jet crosses her mind and mixes strangely with joy and relief.

She feels his hand brush against her cheek, a rough and calloused hand. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not." She wipes at her eyes.

"Of course not." He chuckles.

How is she going to tell him about Jet? How is she going to tell Jet about him? But he's alive, goodness he's alive. She carefully cups her hand over his. "What happened to your ship and how did you survive?"

"It's a long story." He replies, she can tell that he is going to fade out again. "Visit tomorrow and you might get to hear it."

"Might?!"

He is already out again. She finds herself laughing. Of course he will leave her unanswered.

It dawns upon her, as the nurse enters that she probably should have let them know that he was awake.

.oOo.

She finds herself terribly anxious the closer they draw to the hotel. The walk from the hospital isn't terribly long, she almost wishes that it could be longer. It is a nice day, in the storm's wake there is a cooler edge to the day. For once her skin isn't slick with sweat from the walk and jasmine dances within the breeze. "You're quiet." Zuko remarks.

"Enjoy your break." Azula mutters.

"Did something happen to the sailor?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing bad."

"But something happened."

"He woke up."

"And."

She bunches her hands in her pockets. She isn't sure why she is so hesitant to tell him. Perhaps it is because she doesn't want him to slip and tell Jet before she can. "It's Sokka."

Zuko comes to a full halt. "What? How?"

She shrugs. She had imagined it time and time again, a reunion, telling Katara that her brother is alive. And perhaps it is because she had truly expected it to be anything but a reality, that it is so hard for her to process that her daydreams have become truth.

Truth be told, she isn't quite ready. "I don't know, Zuzu. I didn't that we would actually find him."

"Well aren't you, I don't know, elated?"

She knows that she should be. She should be happy, excited, grateful. And she is, but she is also nervous. It has been so long. He doesn't know about father, he doesn't know about Jet, about...she traces the length of the scar on her arm, rather she traces the parts of it that aren't tucked into the sling. "I am." She says. "I'm just trying to figure out what to tell Jet."

"Fuck off, is a good option."

She elbows him. "I know that you don't like him but he treats me well." They pass a merchant selling bundles of hibiscus and bamboos sticks. With the storm well and past, the island is lively again. She spies several bikers and a couple with a picnic basket. There is a child with an armful of shells and a missing sandal, an exasperated woman holds that sandal. Colorful umbrellas are propped open all along the beach that runs parallel with the road. A road that is scattered with palm fronds, branches, clusters of flowers, and other things that the storm had thrown about. She can hear the hum of cicadas and the chatter of birds, mostly seagulls. "I suppose that I should just tell him outright." That is how she would have wanted it if Jet had fallen for someone else.

"That's what I meant when I said tell him to fuck off."

Azula rolls her eyes. "I'm sure it is." But that doesn't make it any less daunting, knowing that she has so much to fill Sokka in on. Though she supposes it is, at the end of the day, fair. He has a long story for her and she has a rather long one for him. If he will hear the rest of it after finding out about her fling with Jet.

She decides that she will get to that part after talking about how increasingly difficult and lonely things had gotten. She will answer the why's before sharing what they had led to.

She enters the hotel and holds the door open just long enough for Zuko to get his hopes up before letting it slam in his face. He cusses and she chuckles. It has been a while since she'd got him like that.

"See if I hold it open for you next time!"

She fixes him with a faux pout. "You mean you'd slam the door on your handicapped little sister?"

"I sure would." He replies.

They reach the hotel room at the same time as her father and Jet. She watches Jet rub his hair with his towel.

"They left you by yourself?" Azula asks.

Katara shrugs. "I could use the quiet time. How was your visit?"

"It was…" she can't keep the smile from her face. "Surreal."

"Surreal?"

"He's alive, Katara. That sailor is…"

"Sokka?" She asks softly.

Azula nods. She has made Katara cry several times throughout childhood, and once as a pre-teen when she'd decided that she was too cool to hang out with the girl anymore. But she had never made her cry with joy and relief.

"You sure that it's him?"

"He asked me for a pina colada."

"That's him alright." Ozai grumbles. He slings his towel onto one of the racks and makes his way into the bathroom.

"Hey!" Jet calls. "We agreed that I get the first shower!"

"You have things to discuss with my daughter." Ozai shrugs. "I'll take an extra long one to make sure that she can cover all of the details." With that, the door closes and she hears the lock pop into place.

"He's alive, Zuko!" Katara springs up and throws her arms around him. "My brother is alive!" She lets go of Zuko and turns to Azula. "You saved him…"

Azula nods. "He better treat me extra special or I'll throw him right back out there." She folds her good arm against the other.

"Do you need us to…?" Zuko gestures towards the door.

Azula nods. She waits for the door to shut once more before taking a seat on the bed.

Jet sighs and rubs the back of his head. "I take it, there's nothing I can do to make you choose me."

She hesitates before shaking her head. "There's nothing."

He blows out through his lips, "the ride home is going to be mighty awkward."

"It doesn't have to be." She answers despite being well aware that she has a solid track record for being awkward as hell.

"Does he know yet?"

"No." She says. "He will tomorrow." She just hopes that that will go well.

"Were you using me as a rebound?" Jet asks.

"No." She says again. "I was trying to move on…"

"Which is why you went out on a sailing trip to find your boyfriend?"

"I didn't anticipate anything coming from it."

He nods, clasps his hands together and presses them to his lips. "Then why do I feel like I got used."

"I didn't use you." She insists. "If I had I would have asked for a lot more cash."

This elicits a humored snort. "I'm going to go back to the pool." He stands. She doesn't stop him. The soft slam of a door, shut slightly too hard, rebounds around the room. She supposes that he needs to process things. She needs to process things. Good news or not, her head still spins and she finds herself feeling notably drained. She falls back onto the mattress and stares at the ceiling.