Zuko

'… this new world that you created.'

I remember that thought. I told myself it wasn't true.

Maybe somehow, deep inside me, or somewhere I could pretend to not see it, I knew it was a lie. And that the face of all the destruction the world had become was my own.

My fingers cover the right side of my face, I imagine how it would be if I could completely wipe it away, but… if I did… only my left profile would remain. My scar, the mark of my banishment, the mark of my father would remain. I am trapped inside myself, I always have been. I try to fight so many people that want to take control over me… but my voice is lost in shadows.

Someone is coming outside.

Katara gasps. "Oh, no!"

"We have to run!" I take her hand tightly.

Looking into her eyes, the fear she is holding is clear. She is afraid of whatever is about to happen and… of me.

I am the face she hates so much.

Forgive me…

"Well, well. What a pleasant surprise to have visitors tonight."

Zhao comes inside the room followed by a mob of his men; they surround Katara and me across the walls, ready in firebending positions while he stays in the center feigning authority. (Like the smug asshole that he is.) Two other men are with him, standing at his sides: an old, chubby man and another one much younger, not overly older than me. There is something about the way they look, they remind me of…

"Glad to see you again, Prince Zuko," Zhao interrupts my thoughts.

I don't answer him, I don't even want to look at him.

His eyes slide in Katara's direction. "I see you brought your Water Tribe friend tonight."

Katara gives my hand a hard squeeze but looks him straight in the eye. Fearless.

Brave, reckless girl, I muse, a memory absorbing me.

Remembering what happened at the South Pole makes my pulse painful due to cold rage. Anger that feels itself powerless yet demands retribution.

Pulling Katara closer to me, I stand in front of her to shield her; the soldiers don't react to the movement. She grabs a fistful of my sleeve, gripping it so strongly the fabric stretches from my shoulder and rasps my skin.

"Don't look at her," I say, my voice raspy as well. Like the one of a dead man returning to haunt his murderer. "You have no right."

"Oh, and I am supposed to be scared of you now?"

"I don't remember things ending very well last time you weren't scared of me."

Silence booms in the cabin. And for a prolonged time, during which Zhao glares at me with his eyes turned into dark, cutting slits. Combined with his awfully bad shaving skills, it makes him look more animalistic than before.

I don't have to support savages like you…

"Enough," the younger man at his side commands, physically cutting Zhao's way with his arm and stepping ahead. "Apprehend them."

The soldiers react–

"No," Zhao roars curtly, gesturing to the soldiers and the other guy, and giving one step forwarder than him. "The interrogation is not over yet."

Katara and I exchange a look at that last interaction.

"Is this an interrogation?" I ask without much inflection.

"I think you are aware there are a lot of questions surrounding you, Prince Avatar," Zhao throws back with a wolfish smile. "Like: how is it that you are still alive after a century of absence? Especially considering certain wounds you have suffered so far." His eyes go to the bandages on my hands. "I wasn't the only one who endured damage during our last face-off."

His sole gaze feels infective; I pull the border of my sleeves downer, hiding my binds.

"They are healing. Can't say the same about your ship," I argue. "Or your ego."

The chubby, old man chuckles. "Oh, he got you there, Zhao."

Katara and I exchange another look.

Zhao's face reddens with fury. His eyes get a terrifying feverish glint, as if he was truly sick and hallucinating blood, but he returns to his wolfish – hungry – expression too quickly for my taste; his teeth are also too sharp, they indeed look like animal fangs.

"Oh, my, but where are my manners?" his voice turns deceitfully cheery. "I almost forgot to introduce you. Prince Zuko, these are your descendants, members of the royal family. General Iroh," he gestures to the old man on his right, "He is the former Crown Prince, the older brother of the Fire Lord. And this is his son, Colonel Lu Ten," he points to the younger guy on his left.

My stomach sinks.

"When we first met, I recognized you for your resemblance to the royal family," Zhao explains. His head gives a small nod towards the painting of Fire Lord Ozai behind my back, "You must have noticed to who in specific by now."

Yeah, and now I remember why I hate Zhao so much.

A strengthening rage builds inside me, feeding my desperation to escape my own self, to escape this moment and this ship. I just need… I need a course of action, something to do, an answer that will lead me to a place where I won't feel this way. I need to not feel this way, I need to feel something else than being some kind of broken piece with edges that cut everything that comes near me.

My legs move, my body vibrates with tension that I could take out charging against Zhao…

But a pair of arms hug me around my core and restrain me.

Katara.

"Zuko, calm down," she presses, talking close to my ear, avoiding the soldiers from hearing us. "He is trying to get a rise out of you."

"Yeah, and it is working," I whisper through clenched teeth.

She repeats my name, warning and pleading (more the former than the latter, though): "Zuko."

"Now, that is enough," the other man – Lu Ten – says, "Apprehend them now!"

"No, wait!" There isn't much space for me to take Katara away from Zhao and the soldiers… but I still try to push her backer. "Listen, your problem is with me. I am the Avatar. I already surrendered once, I will do so again if you let her go. I will do whatever you want. Just let her go."

Katara tries to stop me: "Zuko, no!"

"You think I haven't noticed she is a waterbender?" Zhao questions. "A southern waterbender, after all waterbenders from the South Pole were supposedly captured and locked down?"

Katara inhales sharply and audibly, her nails dig into my shoulders.

"You did what?" I screech, my teeth crashing almost painfully with the snap of my jaw.

"Don't give me that much credit for that task, it was done years before I joined the army. Maybe General Iroh can provide some more inside information…"

We all turn in direction of the elderly man.

(I get what Zhao is doing; he wants to break my spirits by reminding me it was my own blood the one that caused all of this.) (That, indirectly, I was the one that caused this War.) (Maybe he should know by now that you can't break something if it is already broken.)

General Iroh's own eyes darken once he meets Zhao's, but it is so momentary that it could be a trick of the shadows and the light.

"The raids to the Southern Water Tribe didn't form part of my military career," he says.

"But you did raid them?" I insist. "As in, the Fire Army? The Fire Nation?"

When he looks at me, there is some raw emotion coming from his eyes that makes them gleam. It could be sadness or regret. Or it could be another trick from the light.

Zhao goes on with his awful speech: "Sometimes, progress requires stepping over certain people."

Katara takes another strong breath, her fingernails continue to claw my shoulders; despite it, her hands are shaking with pressure and wrath. I put my own hand above hers, clasping hers, and digging her nails deeper into my skin if that is what she needs to do.

"Katara, listen to me," I whisper to her, pressing my mouth against our hands on my shoulder to quieten my voice, "I am going to try something, but you have to do as I say, okay? Just do it."

Her nod is quiet, rigid, and almost imperceptible.

"Apprehend them!"

I let go of her. "Duck!"

She does and I cast a flame that expands itself from the center of the room, hitting the walls and nearly everybody else's heads.

"Now run!"

She does as well. Zhao, Lu Ten, and Iroh were the only ones blocking the door and they are too disoriented for the sparks and the heat to stop her. Katara escapes.

Don't try to save me, don't look back! Just run!

Katara

I can't leave Zuko behind, but I also can't fight any of those soldiers! I don't have the ability to fight a single one of them. If I had stayed, I would only be a burden instead of a help for Zuko.

Anger and helplessness make me feel sick, like I need to be saved when I don't! I. Want. To. Fight!

The means for it don't even matter anymore; if I have to stab Zhao with the first piece of shattered glass that I find, then I will! Because I need to do something to prove my Tribe's strength, I need to do something in their name, in all of their names. The ones that are still alive and the ones that Zhao took away from us, I don't care if he says he didn't! I need to stand for my tribespeople that are gone and protect the ones that are still here, because that is what I do!

Still, I am running because this time… I can't do anything.

Zuko

Needless to say, the soldiers rush towards me in a horde. I push them off and then it is only a mess of fists and grunts.

My attacks aim for all the unclear blurs that catch my eye, everything is so fleet and faint I am afraid I might be imagining some of them; however, I don't stop to think it much and keep shoving and hitting the men. For what I can hear, Zhao and Lu Ten are at a competition to see who can yell more orders and how much louder. Their shouts are the only thing clear above blows swinging, bones breaking, and my knuckles smashing human flesh.

It is… difficult to skip all of the attacks directed at me in such a diminutive space. (To say the least.)

Guess I have no other option…

Throwing some other guy to hit the wall, I pull out a fire dagger and point it to Zhao's neck.

"Tell them to back off," I order him, feeling the rest of his men staring and standing behind my back.

The fire is too close to his throat, if he did so much as talking, or nodding, or even swallowing, he would burn. (I think it is then when he realizes he should be listening to me.)

His hand gestures towards the soldiers and they move back. I catch Lu Ten casting a flame of his own, he and Iroh are watching me and Zhao with astonished eyes.

I press my fire dagger harder against Zhao's neck, (it isn't enough to burn him, but one false step from his part, and…)

"Don't try anything," I tell Lu Ten, although my eyes remain on Zhao.

Lu Ten drops his fire.

"You have a lot of confidence today, Prince Zuko," Zhao says.

I don't have confidence, I have anger. Big fucking difference.

"Don't know if you have realized it, but I have the upper hand now," I reply.

"Do you?"

He smirks like the cartoonish-y villain that he is, and I am the one that realizes he has something else in his arsenal. Steps resound in the metallic stairs, and another guard enters the room holding a knife to Katara's own neck.

My eyes narrow, the sight of Zhao just became physically sickening and painful. "Paraphrasing a friend of mine," I say to him, "You actual sonofabitch."

"What an improper language for everyone's golden prince," he mocks. "Put your dagger down."

I look over to Katara and that other guard. He is holding her head in a way that her throat is on full display and she can look at nothing but the ceiling – in a way that she can't look at me.

"First, tell him to take his knife down," I demand.

"Haven't you noticed you're no longer the one with the upper hand?"

"If you hurt her, then your warranty is over," I remind him, musing, "And you give me no reasons to not hurt you."

Another wave of deafening silence fills the room. For once, Zhao is looking at me completely inexpressive and lacking of obvious hatred, yet his eyes are darker than I have ever seen them until now. Darker than any eyes I have ever seen. (If he didn't hate me before, this is the moment when he really fucking does.)

"Let's make a deal, I know you won't back down from it," Zhao smirks yet again, (because he knows that is true), "He puts his knife down first, then you put your dagger down. Simple like that."

"And then you chain us up," I finalize for him.

"It's take it or leave it. I trust the value of my warranty."

Katara speaks: "Zuko, don't do it."

The knife's blade is too close to her skin. Just like with Zhao and my dagger, only her breathing is enough for a scratch to appear on her flesh… and it is growing bigger and deeper.

"Drop the knife first," I say, ceding.

Zhao gestures again and the man puts the knife down, letting go of Katara's head as well.

Her eyes are wide when she meets mine. Not fearful, nor sad, only wide and serious. Their color is like the one of a calm ocean on a stormy night.

I put my fire dagger out.

The soldiers jump and push me to the floor, the man that was holding Katara captive does the same with her. She and I only stare at each other throughout the whole ambush.

Forgive me…

Katara

Is this what Zuko had to go through when Zhao first captured him? The cuffs with shackles that if I didn't know better would say they weigh a literal ton, and being physically dragged across the hallways of a cheap ship?

Zhao's guards make us slide over the floor, and all my tries to get free only make the cuffs awfully bruise my wrists. They throw Zuko and me into a cell, so strongly that my shoulder hits against the wall.

"Are you okay?" Zuko asks me, coming to check on me. His eyes are sharp with concern.

"Yes, I'm fine. How about you?"

"Fine," he is panting. I am, too. "They didn't do anything to you, did they?"

"No, no. I'm okay."

The blood is still dripping from the cut on my neck, but I'm okay.

"I hate to break your emotive reunion, kids," that Lu Ten colonel enters the cell, "But I still have some questions to ask you."

Lu Ten, a member of the Fire Nation royal family according to what Zhao told us… and Zuko's descendant.

I wonder how exactly are they related, they don't look all that much alike save for the squared, defined features and dark hair. Lu Ten also doesn't have his head shaved, which makes the contrast between the two of them more notorious and somewhat bizarre.

Fire Lord Ozai doesn't have his head shaved either. He has veeeeeeeeeeery long, very dark hair.

Maybe that is how Zuko will look like once his hair grows out…

And it is terrifying.

"Like what?" he deadpans in Lu Ten's direction.

"How did you find this ship?"

"Does it matter? We are already here. Wasn't that what your precious royal family wanted?"

Lu Ten narrows his eyes at him, but then he averts Zuko's.

Zuko notices that last part as well: "Wait… The rest of the royal family doesn't know about this? As in, the Fire Lord himself didn't order Zhao to track us down? This ship was made for the Fire Lord's exclusive use."

"It was made for the War's exclusive use," Lu Ten throws back.

Zuko only stares at him. "Oh, now I get it. You and Zhao want to be war heroes, right? So you are keeping the capture of the Avatar a secret to be the only ones to take credit."

Lu Ten doesn't answer.

"I don't know if you have noticed, but Zhao isn't the sharing-type," Zuko warns him. "What makes you think he will willingly share the glory with you?"

Right then, the door opens once more, and Zhao himself stands at the frame roughly throwing in two other prisoners. Aang and Sokka fall to the ground and roll towards us.

"'Sup?" my brother says once they stop in front of Zuko and me.

He has a cut on his forehead…

"You. Are. A– " I launch myself to claw Zhao's eyes out!

Or strangle him with the chains of my cuffs!

I don't care which one, I don't care what I have to do as long as I inflict the pain this war has caused me! Me, my family, everyone! I want him to know that pain, I want him to beg for forgiveness, I want someone – anyone – to feel this hurt! I can't be the only one who grieves!

Zuko is the one that holds me back.

Zuko

Katara is giving one hell of a fight to break free from my grasp, but I keep her back before she does something that will put her in danger. Around us, Sokka and Aang are struggling to get to their feet and pleading for her to calm down. She doesn't listen. This is a mess, a more pitiful one than the fight at the cabin before.

"I heard my name," Zhao recalls, "Were you talking about me?"

"What the hell is wrong with you, Zhao?" I demand. "You are imprisoning children now?"

"An airbender child, as you can see," he watches as Aang uses his own breathe to push himself up. "Interesting friends the ones that you have there, Prince Zuko."

"Zhao let him go, he is just a kid!" Katara slowly desists in her attempts to attack Zhao, and I pull Aang closer to me as well.

"No wonders your father banished you as soon as he had the chance," Zhao says, "You clearly have no idea what it entails to be a fighter."

"Your father?" Aang parrots in confusion.

"What is he talking about?" Sokka questions.

Their eyes are focused on me, worried and curious. Guilt makes the sole sensation unbearable, like every pore on my skin ached. What will they do once they find out I have done nothing but keep secrets? Sokka already hated me long before this, and Aang is too trusting for his own good. Maybe this will only shatter his view of the world and make him more cynical. Especially towards me.

Katara finally appeases and grabs another fistful of my robe so tight the fabric rasps my skin again. It is hard to explain, but her grip somehow feels like more of a comforting act; she was the only one that knew about my father and my banishment – in some way, at least – and that makes it enough for her to be concerned about me despite… everything else.

It is only because she is empathetic, I tell myself, but looking into her eyes, I want to believe… just for a moment… that she doesn't hate me. Not too much, not now.

I still take her hand away from me and walk over to Zhao.

"I know enough about being a fighter," I tell him, looking him defiant into his eyes. "And I know you wish you knew anything about a war. What do you think the Fire Lord is going to do when he finds out you kept the resurgence of the Avatar a secret? What would you do if I was the one to tell him if you take me to the Fire Nation? I would pay for that as long as it meant snitching on you. You are pathetic– "

I register the pain of his slap before hearing the echo of it bouncing against the cell's walls. My bottom lip throbs, and when I pass my tongue over it, I taste blood. Motherfucker was wearing a ring.

Katara, Aang, and Sokka flinch watching the scene; Lu Ten only stands there. So much for his loyalty.

"I see a hundred years in banishment have done little to temper your tongue," Zhao reminisces and mocks me at the same time, "I was allowing you and your entourage to be locked up together as an act of generosity, I just changed my mind. Guards! Take the airbending kid to the farthest cell from this one there is!"

Katara shrieks: "No!"

"Make space for the other prisoners in different cells and then take them there," Zhao continues. "And someone prepare the cooler for Prince Zuko, I'm sure he will appreciate it."

There is the wolfish smile again; he really does feed on people's misery.

The guards come in and they pull Aang away from the rest of us. Katara and I try to get to him again, but it is futile; she attempts to throw herself forward again, but I stop her once more. Zhao and Lu Ten exit the cell as if this was only a useless dramatic scene, unworthy of their attention. My teeth grit and the opening on my lip throbs once more with fury.

Burning fury.

Katara

Everything happens agonizingly slow and too fast that I can't stop it. First, they take Aang away and it is only a while after that they drag Sokka out. Zuko keeps containing me, telling me to calm down, but I am barely listening. I remember I was the one preventing him from doing something reckless in the cabin earlier, and now I can't bring myself to care if I am passing as a hypocrite.

Zhao's threats stir multiple, harmful electric shocks in my brain, too intense for it to function properly. The commands I receive are the ones to my arms and legs, ordering them to keep those threats from becoming a reality.

Nobody will hurt my friends!

Nobody will separate me from my brother!

Except that someone is – the Fire Nation guard is dragging Sokka away from me, to some place where I won't be there to protect him. The same way they did with Aang, the same way they will do with all of us if I don't do something.

If… I… don't…

I keep struggling with Zuko, telling him to let me go. He won't listen, he repeats that if I jump to fight the guards, I will get myself killed.

I know that, you idiot, I just don't care! I care about Sokka!

I care about Aang, I care about Zuko, I care about keeping the three of them safe and away from heartless thugs.

I care! Hell, I care! And that's why it hurts!

It hurts to be unable to protect your loved ones. It hurts to live with that constant fear that you will lose more pieces of your heart… until there will be nothing left.

The pain… it is too intense. Like the loud, metallic thunder of the door closing.

I am locked again, along with my wrath and that pain that does nothing but grow the more my eyes become accustomed to the darkness inside the cell – the more time I spend away from my brother while they take him farther away from me.

Tears stream down my face. This isn't fair.

Leaning against Zuko's chest is the only way I have to earn some steadiness and not fall down to the ground. This isn't fair!

The War is so unfair!

"Forgive me."

My eyes snap open and go up to meet Zuko's.

It takes me a moment to comprehend what he is apologizing for. (Us being here, Zhao, maybe even for the war as a whole and his resemblance to Fire Lord Ozai.)

I would like to tell him it is not his fault and… now that I look at him this close… his resemblance to the Fire Lord is not all that vivid.

I mean… it is there, but at the same time… it isn't.

Zuko's features are different. His eyes are different; softer, gentler.

Emotional, guilty, sad.

And deeper, more golden.

"I… um…" he murmurs "is… is your cut okay?"

His hand raises and comes closer to my neck – to the scratch that Fire Nation guard made me.

Zuko's fingers shake, he keeps hesitating, retreating, and then moving closer to touch my scrape; it is reminiscing of when he tried to touch the bruises on my wrist. And of when I tried to touch the scars on his back.

He is not comfortable with this kind of touch yet. But he is trying.

I guess the two of us are… considering circumstances.

A drop of blood drips from his broken lip, I wipe it away with my fingers. His lip is beating. Like a heart.

The guards tear the door open again and come inside in a herd-like formation. They yank Zuko by the collar of his clothes, away from me and towards only who knows where.

No.

"No!"

The door roars closed before my cry ends.