A fire rages within her, one that is much more powerful than she has managed to produce today. She wishes that, that fire would come forth. She wishes that she could stop making an absolute fool of herself in front of such a formidable foe. He smiles at her, encourages her. It is patronizing, really.

She lets the flames die in her palms, not that there is much to extinguished at all. She finds herself a large rock to sit upon and rubs her hands over her face. What is wrong with her? She is calm, mostly. She is free. There is nothing to hack at her chi and chakra points. So why can't she just do it? Why doesn't it come as naturally as it always has?

She thinks that she knows the answer but, Agni, she can't bring herself to admit it…

"It'll come back, Azula." Aang promises. He makes a lot of promises and he doesn't deliver. She lightly gnaws on her lip. That isn't fully true; he had promised to break her free. But he has also promised to help her mind mend, promised to help her get back to herself physically, promised to fix her…

She can't rely on him to fix her.

She doesn't want to.

Agni, it would be humiliating if she did.

But her fire isn't fixing itself and she is making little progress on fixing it. "We've been at this for nearly a week!" She complains. "Why haven't I made any progress at all?" She's an embarrassment, a perfect picture of squandered potential.

"You're trying too hard." Aang answers.

Azula goes rigid.

"You can't force your fire out. You have to feel it."

And that's just it. She can't, not like she used to. A connection has been severed and she doesn't think that he can give that back. "Forget it." She mumbles. She would rather cease firebending altogether than stare at such pitifully meek bursts.

"Forget what? Firebending?"

She nods. "I'll find something else…"

"Y-you...I can't belive you!" He throws his hands up. "You were so upset about your firebending being gone that you wouldn't even move. I had to carry you...and now you're just not going to use it?"

"It's useless, Avatar." She scowls. "You wouldn't got to battle with a broken sword, would you?"

He opens his mouth.

"No. You'd find yourself a new weapon that actually works." She hisses. But how many weapons has she gone through. All of her sharpest are gone. Her mind and cunning, her confidence, her fire…

"So you're quitting then?" He asks. "It isn't like you to quit."

She laughs, the pitch of it is startling and uncanny to even her own ears. "I'm. Not. me." She doesn't know how many times she has to remind him of this. She is very sure now that Azula had died in that facility and this semi-lucid husk is what has come to fill in the vacancy.

He crinkles his brows. "I don't believe that."

She quirks a brow.

"Sometimes you are. Sometimes I can see it really clearly, that you're still you. Other times...right now, I can't."

Neither can she. She fixes her eyes straight ahead, staring off and at nothing at all.

"So that's it? You're done for today?"

She is done for...for who knows how long, really. Perhaps for good. And perhaps she should muster up the courage to prevent herself from sinking any further. If Azula has died, why shouldn't the lingering remains of her…

.oOo.

Looking at her, slouched over and dull-eyed, it comes to him what is missing. He supposes her aura was a potent indicator it is almost entirely brown now where it isn't spotted with grey.

Confidence.

He is almost certain that that is what it amounts to.

That is what is missing; what the old Azula had that this Azula does not.

The fact of the matter is, she is uncertain. Riddled with conflict and turmoil to the likes of which he doesn't think he can possibly fathom. Not without having someone like himself endlessly tinker and fiddle with his spirit for months on end.

"You can't just give up."

Her body shifts as she draws in a very deep inhale and seems to deflate even further as she exhales.

"How are you going to beat Sangyul if…"

"Maybe I don't want to beat Sangyul." She replies softly. "Maybe that's what you want. Maybe I just want to forget about him entirely. What would it do for me anyhow?"

He begins to speak but she lifts a hand. And suddenly he wonders if she is right, wonders if it really is he who wants to take vengeance on Sangyul. Wonders if he has lost himself just as much as she has. Really, it would serve him right. It would be the justice that Gyatso had warned him about; in doing damage to her, he has unravel himself.

"You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself." Aang nearly shouts. She flinches ever so slightly. He needs to stop feeling sorry for himself. "You need to stand up and start practicing your bending again."

She is tense twice over but she does stand. "You need to fix me first." She jabs the side of her head. "You need to fix what you've broken."

"Azula, I…" He trails off. "Your spirit energy stabilizes itself. As long as I don't touch it, it reverts…"

"Elasticity fades with age and overuse." She pauses. "With misuse."

He feels a twinge, likely of annoyance, possibly agitation. He is tired of taking the blame for this. Tired of receiving no credit despite doing everything he can to help. "So you want me to tamper with your spirit energy again?"

Azula swallows, he sees a little more fight leave her body. "No."

"Then what do you want from me? Because it sure sounds like you want me to get into your head again and make some adjustments."

It is back, if only for a moment. "Stay away from my spirit energy, Avatar." She scowls.

But he sees it.

He sees the spark and he pushes. "Ya know what, no. I'm going to do it." Her eyes widen and he takes a step closer. "You want me to fix you, I'll do it. I'll touch a few threads and tug a few strings."

"Stay away from my spirit energy." She repeats, lower. Cooler.

"What are you going to do, Azula? How are you going to stop me?" He closes his eyes, he is well aware that this can go one of two ways. As the words leave his lips, he hopes to Raava that she won't shut down, "You can't firebend." His stomach lurches as he lifts a flame of his own.

He waits for a strike that never comes. Her eyes train on him and her breathing comes heavier. His tummy flops again and he lurches forward. He doesn't expect to crash into her. He doesn't expect to send her to the floor. Come on, Azula... He very nearly mutters. He has her pinned. He should really let her go. But it was there. He saw it. He saw that spark.

He presses his thumbs to her forehead.

He can't remember much else but he wakes up on the ground.

His ribs sear white hot and moving is mighty awful. He touches his hand to his ribcage. The cloth is charred. A good hole burned through it. He gives a pained moan as he forces himself up right. He lumbers towards the lakeside and falls to his knees. It is a good burn, he smiles, a very good burn.

He isn't as good as Katara but he patches himself up enough to be okay.

Only then does it occur to him; Azula is gone.