A/N/: Hey everyone! This is my first Zukka fanfiction. I hope you like it! Please, don't knock me for my terrible calls back and forth between dispatch. I tried to make them realistic, but like. They're shoddy at best. Thanks so much for reading!

When Sokka was little, he'd always imagined that cops were badasses. He figured it was something he'd seen out of one of those TV shows his dad didn't like him watching. Kicking down doors. Blazing guns and flying bullets. Taking down bad guys. Saving the day. The whole shebang. He figured it was something like a movie montage.

All Sokka wanted to be when he was older was that badass, but the movies and TV shows seemed to forget to show the other parts about being a cop. Like desk duty. And paperwork. And court. And night shift patrols. There was a whole lot less adrenaline-inducing action than he anticipated.

"When are we going to get to the good stuff?" Sokka asked as he sat in the passenger seat of the parked squadcar.

They'd been sitting in the parking lot of Flameo Noodles, Piandao's favorite fast food noodle chain, for well over an hour. Before that, they'd sat in the lot of Jennamite Candies and Ice Cream hoping to enforce curfew on the local kids. They'd issued a couple of warnings, but that was about it.

A chuckle filled the space beside him. "You know, action isn't necessarily a good thing all the time," Piandao said. "Peoples' lives are at risk."

Sokka groaned audibly as he looked at the greying police captain who wore an infectious smile on his lips. "Yeah, but we're badasses. We come in. We save the day. Everything is fine."

Another chuckle. "I remember when I was like you. Fresh out of the academy, ready to get my feet wet," he said. "Take the quiet nights for what they are, Sokka."

"You mean boring?"

"I was going to say peaceful," the older man said.

"That was what you said for the last year while I was the station's paper pusher," Sokka groaned.

And it was true. The captain had constantly told him to value what he had. He'd told him he'd come to miss the quiet days, sitting at his desk as he filed reports for the other officers. But Sokka had hated it. He couldn't do an office job. It was the main reason that he'd gone straight into the Ba Sing Se Police Academy after he'd finished his degree in criminal justice. Sitting in the classroom had been torture. Sure, he loved to read, but learning the theory was so much different than being involved in the action. He was twenty-one years old, and craving action. Not boredom.

And, evidently, that was all night shift patrols were. Boredom.

"Hey, paper pusher is an important job-"

"No disrespect, Captain, but it's boring," Sokka said in a deadpan.

"Fine. It's boring," he conceded. "I'll give you that."

Silence lapsed around them. Well. As silent as it could get with the police scanner droning on. But it wasn't anything interesting. It was all stuff happening in the lower ring of Ba Sing Se. That was where most of the crime was. Piandao was a captain in the middle ring, therefore, they had a moderate to quiet station. That meant Sokka would see little action on most night shifts.

Boring.

"So, uh, is this how it always goes?" Sokka asked after twenty minutes of listening to dispatch over the radio. "Cause, I hate to break it to you, Captain, but this isn't exactly badass."

"What is your definition of badass?"

"I don't know. Saving people at least," Sokka said with a shrug. "Anything other than sitting around waiting."

"I'd say that what we're doing is pretty badass," Piandao responded. "We are here just in case anything happens in the moment. It's badass."

Sokka raised a singular brow at him. "Uh-huh. And I'm the chief of police."

Piandao gave him a sympathetic look. "We're sitting off of the busiest road in the middle ring," he said. "They're patrols, Sokka. Unless we get a call, this is as exciting as they're going to get."

And apparently, Tui and La or Agni or whoever was listening, heard Sokka's pleas to end his boredom. Dispatch came over the radio.

"We need a unit to respond to a possible 10-16 in the middle ring. 1024 East Eel Hound Lane, apartment 230," came the warbly voice of the dispatch lady.

The words ran through Sokka's head at a mile a minute. 1024 East Eel Hound Lane. As she'd said, that was the middle ring. That was close to them. A 10-16. That was a domestic disturbance. There was action.

Sokka looked to Piandao who had schooled a serious expression onto his tanned features. He had listened to the exact same thing Sokka had, and he was trying to decide what to do. But it didn't seem to be that hard of a decision. Piandao picked up the radio receiver.

"10-4. Unit 0394 responding," the captain said.

Sokka could hardly contain his excitement. Sure, it was just a domestic disturbance, but it was something.

"Are you ready for your first call, Sokka?"

"Are you kidding me?" Sokka asked. He could already feel the adrenaline coursing through him. "What are you waiting for? Let's go be badasses!"

The apartment building that dispatch sent them to was unsuspecting and bland. It was the same run-of-the-mill complex that was seen all throughout the middle ring.

Sokka and Piandao exited the squad car and made their way up to the building. The building manager stood outside the door, waiting. She was an older woman with greying hair and bright red lipstick on despite the hour. When they approached, she gave them a weary smile.

"Thank you for coming, officers," she said. "You can call me Aunt Wu. I'm the landlady."

Sokka waited for Piandao to respond to her, but he didn't. Instead, he put a hand on Sokka's shoulder. He gave a light squeeze and it hit Sokka. Oh. Shit. That was probably his cue to take things over.

He cleared his throat. "You called about a domestic disturbance?"

Aunt Wu nodded. "My niece, Meng, heard screaming from the floor below us. A quiet, young man lives there, so she thought it was unusual. She woke me up," she said. She then held up a key. "This is to the apartment."

Sokka nodded. "We'll take it from here, ma'am. Get some rest," he said, offering her a polite bow. "Thank you for your help. We'll let you know if we need anything else."

"Make sure everything is alright officers," she said. "I may not mean much to the people here aside from being the landlady, but I care about the futures of all of my tenants."

Sokka gave a firm nod, and Aunt Wu stepped aside. Sokka and Piandao passed the woman and made their way to the second floor. As they took the stairs, moving at a brisk pace, Piandao turned to him and gave him an approving smile.

"So far so good, son," he said. "Keep a calm head as we enter the residence. You never know what goes on behind closed doors. These are some of the most dangerous calls we can go on as officers. People will go far to protect their secrets."

Sokka felt pride blossom across his chest. This was his first call, and so far, he was doing well, even if it was just a few words to the landlady. Piandao's compliment made his confidence bolster. He had this. He was a badass. He was going to save people. But he was keeping calm, just as his commanding officer had said. He didn't want to jeopardize anything. A little excitement wouldn't hurt anything, though.

They found the apartment door easily. The golden number 230 on the door glared at Sokka as he raised his fist to knock. But his knuckles didn't even make it to the wood. The door was cracked open about an inch. The wood around the handle was still intact, so it was unlikely that any entry to the apartment was forced. But still. The sight immediately put Sokka on edge. Beside him, Piandao began to draw his weapon. Sokka followed suit.

"Don't shoot unless you see a weapon, and they have clearly expressed an intent to cause harm," the captain said.

Normally, Sokka would give some sarcastic retort at his captain telling him the obvious, but there was no way he could. His breath was caught in his throat all at the sight of the cracked door. This wasn't the time for humor. He stepped aside and allowed Piandao, the experienced captain, to enter the apartment first.

"Split up, clear the apartment. I'll take the bedrooms and the bathroom. You take the living room and kitchen," Piandao said, taking charge of the situation. They went inside. "Hello? This is the police. We are here to do a wellness check. We received a call."

His mentor's voice rang out strong and steady in the quiet of the apartment. There was no response. Piandao gestured for him to go one way while he checked the other. Sokka nodded.

His heart began to race even faster as he split away from the old man. Despite what they'd heard about this being a domestic disturbance, the apartment didn't seem too out of the ordinary. He stepped through the threshold of the apartment and went into the living room.

From a first glance, he could tell it was a neat, modest place with simple, black furniture. There was a couch, a TV, a coffee table, and a few bookshelves lined with nondescript, coffee table books. There were a few accent banners from the Fire Nation, but that seemed to be the only thing in the place that could identify the guy. There were no pictures on the walls or on any of the surfaces in the room. The curtains were closed, too. Whoever this guy was, he didn't show much of himself in his home. Private much?

Decorating tastes aside, Sokka was perplexed. He didn't see any telltale signs of a struggle or even a fight. Nothing was broken. Nothing was out of place. None of the corners of the carpet were upturned. All of the pillows on the couch were in place. They weren't even crumpled. It barely looked lived on. The only thing that felt off about the place was an acrid smell, but it could have easily been an old can of garbage or something. At least he hoped. He couldn't be sure.

He swept through the room quickly, scanning everything. There was nothing. It was empty, so he made his way toward the kitchen. His heart was pounding in his chest. Adrenaline was coursing through him. This is what he wanted. The suspense, the action, the-

As soon as Sokka stepped into the kitchen, his heart lurched into his throat. Everything felt numb around him. He froze. Life seemed grey around him all of a sudden except for one thing. There, in the middle of the kitchen floor, was a man. From what Sokka could tell, he was alive. His chest rose and fell in a shaky, stuttered kind of way. But what had made Sokka freeze was the large, bloody wound that marred his face.

His senses came rushing back to him all at once. The world regained color, and his basic training skills took over. He took in his surroundings, eyes searching for someone else, anyone who could explain what this man was doing. Why he was laying on the ground, mutilated. But Sokka found no one.

Instead, his gaze caught sight of the stove. The flame was lit to its highest setting on one of the burners. It seemed oddly out of place in the kitchen, which was otherwise pristine. Not even a pot littered the empty counter space.

And along with the rest of his senses came his sense of smell. It smelled like something was burning. His eyes flicked down to the man on the ground with the ugly, bleeding wound on his face, and dots seemed to connect.

He'd found the source of the man's injury.

Sokka felt sick to his stomach. He felt bile rising in his throat, but he forced it down. He immediately holstered his gun and crouched down beside the man. He placed two fingers to the pulse point on his neck, and relief coursed through him. The man's pulse was weak, but it was there. A steady thump, thump, thump that grounded Sokka to reality again.

"Captain!" he called, his voice cracking just slightly. And who could blame him? He'd just found a man on the floor with the worst burn wound he'd ever seen in his entire life. "In the kitchen!"

Sokka then went and held down the button on the radio on his chest. "Officer Sokka, Unit 0394, to dispatch," he said as steadily as he could muster. But his hands were shaking. He was shaking. "We need an ambulance to 1024 East Eel Hound Lane, apartment 230. We have a burn victim who seems to be in stable condition. Over."

Dispatch's warbly voice came back over the radio, confirming. An ambulance would be enroute to them.

Sokka then looked at the man on the floor. He looked pretty damn out of it, but he was awake. Sokka placed a hand on his arm gently.

"Help is on the way, buddy," he said as Piandao came into the room.

The older officer looked at him with a grim expression. Not overly morbid, he just looked... distant, as if this case shook him as much as it shook Sokka. One thing was for sure. This was one helluva first call.

After the man was picked up off of the floor of what they assumed was his apartment, a team swept through and picked up anything that they figured could be evidence: prints, fibers, hairs. Anything. In the meantime, Sokka and Piandao went back to the station. They were still on shift until six a.m., and they still had work to do. Sokka, of course, argued the point.

"Why aren't we going to follow the ambulance there? Don't we need a statement?" Sokka asked.

He couldn't help but feel angry for this dude. Half of his face was burned, and Sokka wanted to get the asshole responsible for it. He wanted justice.

"Sokka, it's late, for one," Piandao said. Which was true. It was five a.m. The sun was already rising. "And for two, he needs to get treated. A burn like that is going to need care. And after that, the poor fellow is going to want to sleep. We can get a statement when he wakes up."

Sokka groaned, throwing his head back against the wall of Piandao's office. "I can't just sit here. I want to find the jerk who did this!"

Piandao nodded in understanding. "I know, Sokka. I want that just as much as you do," he said. "But you need to separate yourself and your emotions from what's going on. Your mind is clouded by them, and it won't help us solve the case."

He groaned again. "Then what are we supposed to do?"

"We figure out who he is and contact his family. We found a phone and a wallet in his apartment. We can start from there,"

As Agni would have it, he and Piandao were able to get some information from what they'd found. The wallet provided his identity. His name was Zuko. A quick search through their system showed he had four relatives in the city. His mother, father, sister, and uncle. His phone, which wasn't protected by a passcode, provided an emergency contact entered as ICE: Mom.

Piandao sat beside him as he made the phone call. Someone - a woman, who he figured was this guy's mother - answered after the first three rings.

"Hello?" she asked, his voice soft with what seemed like sleep.

"Hello, ma'am. This is Officer Sokka from the Ba Sing Se Middle Ring Police Department," he said levelly. "Is this Ursa?"

"Speaking," she responded. "Can I ask why you're calling? And so early? Azula didn't get herself arrested, did she?"

Sokka shook his head, and after a second, he realized dumbly that she wasn't able to see it. "Ah, no, ma'am. We're actually calling in regard to your son, Zuko."

"Zuko? I didn't expect him to get arrested. These kids are goi-"

"No, ma'am," he quickly interjected. He didn't need her going off on a tangent. He wanted this phone call to go smoothly. "Ma'am, he's been admitted to Ba Sing Se General Hospital in the middle ring. He suffered a burn wound, and we were calling-"

There was an audible gasp and some rustling on the other end. When the woman, Ursa, spoke again, her voice was shaky. "Is he alright?"

"He's currently being treated, ma'am, but the doctors that are taking care of him don't believe that his injuries are life threatening," he said delicately.

There was a rushed breath of what Sokka hoped was relief.

"Ma'am, we were hoping we could talk to you and ask you some questions. Maybe it can help us figure out what might have happened to your son," he said.

"Yes, of course," she responded. "C-Can I go to the hospital first? I-I need to see him."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. He glanced at Piandao as he said the next words. "We can meet you there later this afternoon, if that's alright."

The older man nodded at his words. Yes, they would be there.

"Yes, of course, anything I can do to help," she said.

They exchanged a few more words before Ursa hung up.

"Good job, Sokka," he said. "This is the most we can do for now. Go home. Get some rest. We'll go to the hospital later when we get back on shift."

Sokka didn't sleep at all. He couldn't get the image of the guy - Zuko - bleeding on the floor of his kitchen, out of his head. He couldn't erase the thoughts even for an hour, and he definitely couldn't separate his emotions from all of this as Piandao had asked. He just didn't get it. How could someone do that to another person? How could they cause that severe of a burn and not think themself a monster? The dude could lose his sight over this, and it pissed Sokka off to know that whoever did this wasn't in police custody.

How could anyone expect him to sleep after that?

Needless to say, when Sokka and Piandao made it to the hospital later that afternoon, Sokka was restless. He was sure there were dark rings under his eyes, but he hadn't bothered to check. He needed more information on this case, not beauty sleep. He wanted it solved. He wanted whoever was responsible behind bars.

The victim's mother, Ursa, was in the hospital room with her son when they got there. She held his hand as she stared at his prone, sleeping form. It made Sokka's heart ache for her. She came out to greet them, her eyes ringed in redness and her cheeks stained with tears.

"Thank you for speaking with us, ma'am," Piandao said, extending his hand to her. "I'm Captain Piandao. This is Officer Sokka."

"Oh. I spoke with you on the phone," she said, looking at Sokka.

He nodded. He couldn't help but be struck by how pretty she was despite her obvious misery. She had bright, warm, golden eyes and long, dark hair. Her face was delicate and thin. She looked a lot like her son - at least, based on the license photo he'd taken. Now, however...

Sokka couldn't think about that. Not yet.

"Ma'am, do you know anyone who would have wanted to hurt your son?" Piandao asked.

Ursa hesitated before shaking her head. Sokka found that odd. Why was she hesitating? He had seen raw emotion flicker through her eyes, but it was one that Sokka couldn't exactly place. In the end, she didn't say anything that could implicate the person responsible for her son's current state.

"Zuko can be a little hot-headed at times, but he's such a good, quiet boy. He is finishing up college and everything. He plans to work at his father's business."

Sokka followed up before Piandao could. "Are you sure you don't know anyone who could have hurt him?" he pressed. "Any information could help us, ma'am."

She shook her head, and her response seemed much more firm this time even though that look hadn't left her eyes. "No officer."

Before they could get any more questions, a loud grumble ensued from the hospital room beside them followed by a nurse's placating words.

"Now, sir, you can't get up. You need to relax for a while and rest," she said.

"Fuck off," a voice said. It was low and husky, and it sounded almost like smoke personified. It made the hairs on Sokka's arms stand on edge. It was one of those voices only actors had. "I'm not staying. Get me the fuck out of here."

Zuko.

All three of them turned toward the room. Ursa, upon seeing that her son was awake, rushed into the room. She immediately started chastising him for trying to get up, for pushing himself. She was being a mother. Sokka felt a pang of sadness, and briefly wondered what it might feel like to have that. He was quick, however, to chase the thoughts away. There was no time for them. Not now. Not when he had other priorities.

Sokka and Piandao allowed Ursa and Zuko some time alone before they knocked on the door of the hospital room.

"Ma'am, do you mind if we talk to your son for a few moments? Alone." Piandao asked. He seemed sure to put extra emphasis on the alone part.

"Yes, of course, officers," she said.

Sokka and Piandao stepped into the room as she made her way out. There was something particularly sterile-smelling about the room, something that Sokka didn't like. He'd never been a huge fan of hospitals, not since he was a kid when had to visit them oh-so frequently. Having a job where he had to go and visit them wasn't exactly his favorite. But the pros outweighed this particular con.

Zuko sat in his hospital bed, his one eye covered in pristine, white bandages. The other eye was the same bright, golden color as his mother's. A pissed off expression complete with a scowl sat on the visible half of his face.

"What do you want?" he asked. The attitude that rolled off of him in waves was coarse and bitter.

Sokka was taken aback by this. He hadn't expected an attitude, and he definitely hadn't expected anger. What he had expected was some gratitude. Maybe a bit of anxiety and misery at the expense of his injury. Not freaking anger. Like. What the fuck? He tried to school a passive expression onto his features, but he wasn't sure he was doing such a good job. Piandao stepped in before he could say a word. Obviously, the way his jaw had flexed as he clenched it had given him away.

"We're here to talk to you about what happened to you," he said. "Do you remember anything?"

"Yeah," Zuko said.

But he didn't say anything else. And the finality in his tone made it seem like he wasn't going to offer anything else up. Sokka wasn't sure that they had the same guy that everyone else seemed to talk about. His mom had said he was hot-headed, but this wasn't hot-headed. He was being a downright jerk. Like, he got that he was injured and all, but he and Piandao were just trying to help. His tude wasn't gonna get them anywhere.

"Well, what did you remember? Was there anyone with you when you got hurt?" Sokka asked, his brows knitted over his eyes.

"No."

"No?"

"I thought I said it pretty clearly. No. There wasn't anyone with me," Zuko said. "Does 'no' have another meaning to you?"

Sokka was about to fire off some sarcastic, unprofessional retort because this guy really was a fucking jerk, but Piandao managed to do some damage control before Sokka could open his big mouth.

"Then, can you tell us what happened?" Piandao asked.

"This happened," he said, gesturing to his face.

Agni had better bless Piandao for his patience because Sokka couldn't have done it. He wasn't exactly well-versed in dealing assholes outside of his immediate friend group. Usually, people liked him. They flocked to him because of his personality and his jokes. Sokka didn't seem to have this effect on Zuko. He had some stupid immunity to Sokka's charms. Shoot, it was a miracle in itself that Piandao was able to handle him.

"Yes, son, we know. Can you tell us how it happened?"

"I was cooking, I fainted, and I got burned," he said coolly.

He was way too closed off, and Sokka couldn't tell if he was lying or not. And if he was lying, he was a damn good at it. What he would do to have Toph here, but there was no way Piandao would let her in on an investigation. Besides, she was still underage. Her parents wouldn't let her anywhere near this situation. Not that she would listen.

"Shit happens," Zuko concluded.

"What do you mean, shit happens?" Sokka asked incredulously. "This isn't exactly one of those brush it off situations, dude."

"What Officer Sokka is trying to ask," Piandao said pointedly. Sokka averted his gaze at the reprimand. "Do you usually faint like that? There seems to be some severe consequences from something so simple as fainting."

"No. I don't. This was the first and only time," Zuko said through gritted teeth. "It was an accident."

The way Zuko emphasized the word accident seemed to rub Sokka the wrong way. The whole thing felt off. Fainting while cooking? They didn't see any signs of cooking in that apartment when they went, now that he thought of it. They didn't see anything at all. The burner was on, sure, but there were no pots or pans out. There wasn't even a tea kettle. Him trying to convince them that this was all an accident just didn't feel right.

"Buddy, are you sure?" Sokka pressed. He couldn't take an accident for an answer. Not when his gut was telling him otherwise. His gut was almost always right. "Help us help you. Tell us what happened."

That seemed to piss him off even more. "I already told you it was an accident. I was home alone," he seethed. Man, did this guy's temper flare up quick. "You think I don't know how badly I was burned? My face kills even with the drugs they're giving me. I'm pissed about it. Fuck, they're not even sure I'll be able to see after this. I hope you can see why I don't want to talk. So, are we done? I want to rest right now."

Before either officer could say anything else, a deep voice sounded from behind them. It was harsh and commanding and demanded the attention of everyone in its presence. Sokka and Piandao turned to face its owner. It was a tall man with a goatee and long, dark hair. His eyes were the same golden color as Ursa and Zuko, but he lacked the warmth that Ursa's eyes had. His face was fixed into a calm yet stern expression.

"Yes, he needs rest and to be with his family right now," the man said.

"And who are you, sir?" Piandao asked the newcomer.

"I'm his father," the man said. His tone was condescending and cold. Sokka didn't like it at all. Something about this guy just set him on edge. "I came to see my son. I heard he had an accident."

There it was again. The word accident. Why was it bothering Sokka so much? Why couldn't he accept that as it was? Because he knew what was being said didn't add up. The pieces of the puzzle didn't fit together to spell accident. There were too many holes. Too many missing pieces.

Sokka found himself glancing at Zuko to see his reaction to his father's words, but he seemed so much more reserved all of a sudden. Where did that anger go that was there only a moment before? His posture was tense as he sat up in bed. His hands were balled into fists in his lap. His eye was averted toward the window next to him. He looked entirely uncomfortable, and Sokka couldn't help but wonder why. Maybe it was because his father was here, treating him like a child when he was clearly an adult? But there seemed to be a flicker of something else behind that golden eye. Something more akin to fear.

"Well, sir, your son is an adult, and he can make his own decisions," Piandao said, dragging Sokka from his thoughts.

Only Piandao could make a barb sound professional. Sokka would have failed. Miserably. He wasn't even going to deny it.

Zuko's father seemed to bristle at that, but Sokka smirked. He loved when Piandao refused to take shit from people. The man deserved far more respect than getting sassed by some over-protective, asshole of a dad. He was a damn good Captain, and he was going to show that to this jerk by using his own commanding presence.

"Considering the injury that he so idiotically inflicted upon himself, I think otherwise. He especially doesn't need to relive it again because a couple of cops are being nosy."

"So, you're suggesting that this wound was self-inflicted?" Piandao asked, brows rising high.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," he said, his face a mask of anger. "Now."

"Luckily, we were already going to be on our way," Piandao said. "Good day to you both. Get well, son."

Sokka was about to say something more about the whole scenario, but his commanding officer grabbed him by the arm and steered him from the room. He didn't miss the look that rested on Ursa's face when they passed her. It was the exact same one her son wore. Averted. Uncomfortable. Fearful. It lacked that calm, confident, and motherly air that she'd had when they'd spoken to her before. He couldn't help but be bothered by that, too.

When they were a safe distance down the hall and away from the room, Piandao released a heavy sigh. Sokka took that as his cue to let out all of the frustrations that had been building as soon as he left that room.

"What was that? Why did you just leave it like that?" Sokka asked, raking his hands through his dark brown hair. He managed to pull a few strands loose from his wolf's tail, but he didn't care. He was too damn pissed. "Don't tell me you believe that it was an accident! There is totally something going on there!"

Piandao rubbed his face with a single hand wearily. "No, Sokka, I don't believe that it was an accident," he conceded. "But if the victim insists that it was, there's nothing else that we can do."

"What do you mean? We can have him tell us what really happened!" he said.

"He's a victim," Piandao said. "We're not going to interrogate him. And if he doesn't want to press charges and admit that a crime happened, we don't have any cause to believe that there was one. There just wasn't enough evidence. They didn't find anything at the scene. No fingerprints. Nothing. Legally, our hands are tied."

Sokka groaned loudly. He turned away from Piandao for a moment as his frustration bubbled over his limits. He found himself kicking the footboard of the wall roughly. Usually, he wasn't one to physically let out his anger and frustration, but he couldn't help it. This was too infuriating. How could someone not want to bring the person that mutilated them to justice?

"Sokka, you did excellent work today," he said. "Don't let things we can't control ruin that for you."

Sokka sighed. Even though he was pissed and he would much rather go and demand answers, he knew Piandao was right. He always was.

"Thanks, Captain," he said. And then he added, "I know I have a lot to learn still, but I just can't help feeling so angry about this..."

"It will come with time, son," Piandao said. "You're still a rookie, but admitting you have more to learn is just the first step toward that journey of growth."

"I know," Sokka said softly as he turned back to Piandao. He focused his blue eyes on the man. He didn't seem angry. On the contrary, he just looked tired. Just as tired as Sokka felt, honestly.

"Now, this one was a rough one for your first call. I want you to take the rest of the night off. You look like you barely slept."

Sokka's brows shot high. Take the rest of the night off? Now? Piandao was being too kind about that. He could still work. Their shift had barely started.

"But. What about you? I'm your patrol partner for the next week, Captain," Sokka said.

"Me?" Piandao asked. "I'm going to buy you a nice, strong drink. Have you ever heard of cactus juice?"