Moody Ministrations
Zuko was lying face down on the ground still holding on to the pole that kept him from flying away in the Spirit-induced storm over the island. He was gasping and coughing in obvious pain as Sokka and Suki ran to his aid now that the maelstrom was over. Toph was listening through the ground at Zuko's heartbeat and for other things that could help Katara and her friends. Katara released the ice on her feet and ran to Zuko.
She gasped sharply. "Oh, Tui and La, Zuko please say something, please!" she begged as she turned Zuko over pulling water from the nearby fountain to check his injuries. Zuko coughed again and whispered,
"That went better than I expected…" just before he passed out. Aang didn't come back that night or the next one. No one was sure of where he went and when or if he'd return. Katara and Suki took turns tending Zuko's wounds that were too severe to heal in one session.
Toph sat quietly monitoring his heartbeat and listening for signs of distress. She held Zuko's hand in an unexpected show of affection. He was like a big goofy brother to her and she needed him to live.
The waterbender was exhausted from repairing torn muscle, joint dislocations, and broken bones. Katara could only take care of few injuries at once before she had to stop and rest for a while. Zuko remained unconscious which was probably more of a blessing considering the extent of his injuries. He suffered three broken ribs, a concussion, and a broken wrist from the wind shift during the storm. Katara was sure if Aang had continued his rant just a minute longer Zuko wouldn't be doing this well.
Sokka and the others cringed as Katara relocated joints and set broken bones that crackled and popped with loud audacity. Zuko was breathing but every breath carried with it a stilted halting hitch. Katara prayed to all the spirits that Zuko would pull through. She didn't know how she could handle it if he didn't.
Aang finally returned to the beach house but Zuko had yet to regain consciousness. He had been gone for over two days. It was evident that the little Airbender went through a dark night of the soul from his worn, dirty clothes and an unwashed face. He had been thoroughly raked over the coals of guilt, shame, and self-immolation. His hair began to grow over his tattoos again in a dark covering of peach fuzz.
What was the point of living like a monk when he wasn't acting like one in his heart? Aang couldn't bring himself to eat. How could he? There was no point in pretending like things were normal while there was no assurance that Zuko would live. Aang relegated himself to guard duty at Zuko's bedroom door waiting and hoping that his friend would soon wake up.