Gems: "The most bitter aspect about it is that he knows that he should be happy for all of them but their luck means his loss and this loss hurts so much." Yeah, he wants to be happy for them but personal sorrows are getting in the way of that. "You're showing us his memories about Azula joining his team and how she has won his heart from day one" He definitely had a soft spot for Azula. He found her determination to be alluring and charming. But he didn't work up the courage to ask her for a date. "But he's angry about what this means for his own luck and feelings." It certainly stings for him because he really does love Azula, but she was taken before he got with her. "Someone would get hurt." Exactly. Its a win-lose situation. A win for some and a lose for others. "Even more if it means a person doesn't love you the way you do." Exactly and even with a friendship, he's still going to be hurt. "I absolutely like the way you're writing him in this story." And thank you. I usually have Jet as the bad guy in my fics so it's nice to write him as just another guy with human problems. "I like the fact that he takes a little care of him in his very own rough way." Ozai's a tough love kind of man, but he means well and Jet could use at least one supporter. Everyone else is kind of gushing over Sokka. Ozai isn't as attached to him as the others were so he helps Jet. And thanks again! I hope that you're fics are going well too!

For someone who wears a sling, Azula is strangely unintimidated by the prospect of going back to sea. Sokka isn't particularly surprised though, she always has been the resilient sort. The type to brush things off and get back to whatever task she had been doing before tragedy struck. It is one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place.

If he isn't mistaken he would say that she is rather eager to get back to sailing.

He can think of several other things that he'd rather be doing. "Wouldn't it be quicker to just take a plane back home."

Azula tilted her head, "we can't just leave the boat."

"I dunno, that thing looks pretty banged up, I'm sure that you guys could get a newer and better one."

"Sokka, it's not even our boat." Zuko points out. "We're borrowing it from that ex-pirate who runs the town bar."

Sokka cocks his head. "Why would he lend you a boat?"

"He and dad have gotten close."

Sokka furrows his brows.

Azula sighs and scans the beach for her Ozai before whispering, "I already told you about father's drinking problem."

He flushes as the pieces click. "Oh, yeah. Bars. Drinking. Talking to the bar owner."

Azula swats him, "not so loud!"

"Ow! Blisters!"

Azula rolls her eyes. "Your days of being babied are over!" She declares. "And besides, most of your blisters are gone now anyways, you're just trying to get special treatment."

"And that takes the attention away from you?" He quirks a brow and gestures to her arm.

"I," she draws the syllable out, "am not complaining."

"Hey, Sokka!" Katara calls. "I found a piece of your raft." She holds up a bright yellow strip.

"Anyways, I still think that we should travel by plane. Ozai and Jet can sail the boat back and the rest of us will meet him there."

Azula fixes him with a dull stare. "Sokka, that's a terrible idea."

Looking equally as unentertained, Zuko adds, "I'm not going to leave my father unattended."

"And your father isn't going to leave you unattended either." He mutters. "Not after the fiasco with the souvenir shop."

Zuko flushes, "that wasn't even my idea." He flicks his gaze to his sister.

She gives one of her faux innocent stares. "I can't do much damage like this." She strokes her sling.

"It only takes one hand to pop several blisters." Sokka grumbles.

"Gross, Sokka!" Katara exclaims.

"Our luggage is on the ship." Ozai remarks.

"What about Jet?" Katara asks.

"He has been on the ship avoiding me." Azula crosses her arms.

Sokka can hear the hurt in her voice but she says nothing more of it. He feels another onslaught of guilt for finding relief in Jet's avoidance. If he is angry with Azula, then he won't have to worry about the other boy getting in the way of things. It doesn't seem to matter how many times Azula assures him that she has chosen him over Jet, he still can't shake away the paranoia. He isn't sure how close she had gotten to Jet and he is afraid to ask.

Just as he can't shake his dread of the sea.

"Come on, Sokka. Everyone else is on board." Her touch is much gentler this time, less playful.

"I'd really rather…"

"Take a plane. You've said so." She nods. "It'll be fine, we got here in one piece." He doesn't miss the split second glance she makes at the sail. It might be that he is over thinking things, but he has a suspicion that there was a mishap with that sail. "And you won't be alone this time if we get lost."

"Unless…" he lifts a pointer, "we get separated by a storm."

"We'll be fine, Sokka."

"How do you know?"

"Because it would be absurd for the universe to hand you back if it was just going to kill you a few weeks later. Why would it when it could have just killed you in that storm?" She shrugs.

"Gee. That's reassuring." He rubs the back of his head. Her humor has always been somewhat dark but her delivery has never been this dry. Dry to the point where he thinks that she is only half joking. It is just one more glimpse into the damage he has done in disappearing for so long.

And then it dawns upon him-and he swallows a lump in his throat-that in the time that he had left, she has changed. It wouldn't make sense if she didn't. But what if she has changed into someone that he doesn't particularly love...could she have changed that much?

Could he have changed as well?

"Come on, Sokka." She says softly, more sympathetically. "I have something for you."

He bites his cheek. There really is no sense in drawing this out, he knows that he is getting on the boat one way or another. It is probably better to spare himself of Azula fetching her father to carry him aboard kicking and screaming. He also can't deny that she has piqued his curiosity.

He follows her onto the ship. It is a lot sturdier than his was. And bigger.

"Khozen says that this ship has survived a few decades of storms." Azula points out as she leads him below deck and to the cabins. "And, just so you know, we tested that. Overall, it is a well built ship." She sits down upon what he assumes is her bed and she pats the spot next to her.

He takes a seat. He looks the girl up and down as she shuffles around a suitcase. Now that the novelty is wearing off he is noticing more things. More changes; mostly his gaze is glued to the scar on her chin. He wishes he didn't, but every time he sees it he imagines her with cloudy eyes and none of that fiery spirit standing at the edge of a cliff.

He sees a different person entirely. A more dismal person.

The real Azula is much different than the one in his mind's eye. She is grinning, holding something behind her back. "I'll give you three guess. If you don't get it then you don't get the thing that I am holding."

Some of his anxieties wash away as a memory drives the darker images out of his mind. Now he is picturing a much smaller Azula with big eyes, chubby cheeks, and a missing front tooth.

He can't quite get the voice right in his head, but he remembers her declaring, "what am I holding, Sokka!? If you get it right, you get a prize." She only gave him unlimited guesses because she knew that hadn't stood a chance. Usually with this game, other kids held was coin or a toy. Azula...she was always different. After guessing, "a coin? A stick of gum? A dollar bill? Five dollars!? A rubber duck…" She held out her fist and opened it to reveal a cherry pit.

So that is what he goes with, "it's a cherry pit, isn't it?"

She shakes her head. "Good guess, but now."

"A pumpkin seed?"

Azula rolls her eyes. "Pumpkins aren't in season."

Her eyes, they are the same, but they are different. He thinks that they aren't so care free anymore. There is a knowingness to them. A hardness that goes beyond any physical changes.

And there are plenty of those too. He had expected her to have grown taller, but she really hasn't. But her face has lost a little more of its softness, he thinks that her cheekbones are more pronounced. He thinks that her muscles are more defined...that would explain the iron grip that she'd had on him.

She wears her hair differently too, it is somewhat more tousled and is no longer bound up.

"Stop thinking so much and just start throwing guesses. I'll give you a hint."

Sokka pretends like that is what he had been thinking about. "Shoot." He forces a smile.

"It has seen better days, but it's still kind of cute." She pauses. "Sort of like you."

His smile becomes more genuine and he tries not to laugh. "It's my clownfish isn't it?"

Azula blinks before chucking it at him. "You cheated."

"It isn't my fault that you gave such an obvious hint."

She turns her head and folds her good arm against the other. "That was a pity hint." He is glad that she does. It reassures him that she is still there. Even if her eyes are more tired, even if her body bares the scars of a rough period, her smile is still the same. Her mannerisms are the same.

He puts the stuffed clownfish to the side and puts an arm around her. He can't fault her for her changes, not when she has probably observed some within him.

.oOo.

He has lost his spunk.

His adventurous spirit.

The ocean stole that from him and dragged it to its depths alongside his cargo.

His posture isn't quite right. At first she thinks that it is because he is physically frailer. The doctors had warned that it might take several months for him to re-attain a healthy body weight. And that it might take longer for the patches of discolored skin to even out again.

But they hadn't warned her that his mind might be frailer. Though she thinks that it was probably implied. He still jokes and quips. He still makes her laugh. But he always seems weary and on edge. As though the sea will flood and snatch him back from wherever he stands.

Azula can't hold it against him. She can't imagine it is all too different from the fragility that had gripped her own mind some time back. She lets him hold her but she feels as though she should be holding him.

"When did you start wearing your hair down?" He had inquired a few hours ago.

"I think the month after you left."

"Why?"

She hadn't had the heart to tell him that it was because she had simply stopped seeing the point in putting so much effort in. Instead she told him that she needed change, and it wasn't a complete lie. It was simply a small fragment of a whole truth.

"When did you decide to grow a beard?" She had tried to lighten her own mood.

"It wasn't a decision." They both laughed at this. And just as she had begun to stop laughing, he flared his nostrils and gave his beard a few pretentious strokes. "Do you fancy it m'lady?"

"You're shaving tomorrow." Secondhand embarrassment had spread color upon her cheeks.

The conversation had died away three hours ago. She pretends to be asleep, she isn't sure if he wants to be caught crying. She wonders if she should get Katara, it seems somehow more appropriate to have a sister comforting a brother. That is how it has always been between she and Zuko.

Azula looks at the bed over. Katara is sleeping soundly. Pictures of events that Sokka has missed are still sprawled out on her nightstand. One by one Katara had been going through them, catching Sokka up on everything.

Azula doesn't know how the pair had spent the alone time she'd given them, but Katara had went to bed extra cheerful.

"When did you wake up?" Sokka asks as he wipes his eyes.

"A few minutes ago, I guess."

"Oh."

"Why are you crying?"

She notices that he is shaking and comes to a few conclusions. The boat rolls and bobs as it makes its way through the waves. "The ocean is very calm tonight. Do you want to go on deck?"

He shakes his head abruptly. "I don't like how open it is."

Azula nods. She takes his hand. She could tell him that it really isn't that bad, but what good would that do? It would only be entirely dismissive. And a simple, 'it's going to be okay' seems insufficient. Instead she says, "you were strong enough to find sleep on an unstable raft, you're strong enough to get used to this."

Though she thinks that these words might only be comforting to her.

She thinks that words might not mean much at all right now. Her grip simply needs to be stronger than the pull of the sea. So she holds him close and waits for his anxious trembles to pass.

If he falls asleep in her arms then she will just deal with the earful that her father will give her.

"You used to love the ocean. You can't fear it now." She tries. "You beat it. You shouldn't fear something that you have defeated."