Two shots in rapid succession. Sokka watched the world in slow motion as both bullets hit their intended targets. Combustion Man's knees. Well, one of the bullets struck its intended target, the knee, while the other hit the meaty flesh of his thigh. Either way, both shots worked as they were meant to. Combustion Man roared in pain, but ultimately, he crumpled to the ground, clutching at his legs. If he'd had cuffs, Sokka would have restrained him.

Slowly, he approached Combustion Man. His shotgun had been dropped as soon as he fell. It skittered about five feet from him, where it now lay discarded. Sokka approached it, shoved the pistol in his waistband, and picked up the heavier of the two guns. He spared him a glance. As he'd noted before, he was a bulky guy. His hands alone were easily twice the size of Sokka's. He didn't want to imagine what could happen if he got ahold of Sokka, what sort of damage he could inflict upon him. Nope. No thank you.

He couldn't leave an unrestrained suspect alone, but his every instinct was roaring at him to go check on Aang. His bald-headed friend still lay crumpled on the ground where Combustion Man had dropped him. He made no sign of moving, either, and that terrified Sokka. He felt so alone out there with one injured criminal, one injured best friend, and one injured Sokka. What the actual fuck?

But luckily, he heard sirens in the distance. Backup was on its way. He could probably sit down for just a second, couldn't he? His limbs were feeling really heavy. The last remnants of adrenaline were fading away, and he was really tired. Sokka walked back over to his truck which was in between Combustion Man and Aang. He slid to the ground, allowing the shotgun to rest in his lap.

He couldn't really feel his arm anymore, which was good and bad at the same time. He wasn't sure which he was supposed to lean toward, though. Good because it felt nice and bad because that probably meant his injury was much worse than he thought. Who knew?

Sokka leaned his head back against the grill of the truck. Sleep was seriously calling his name. His eyelids were starting to close on him just as two squad cars squealed onto the scene. Two people he recognized jumped out of the first car and ran toward him.

He offered them a lopsided smile in greeting. The last thing he remembered was Piandao crouching down in front of him before his world went black.

A steady beep, beep, beep lulled Sokka back into consciousness. He was groggy. His eyelids were too heavy to open, and his body was leaden. He felt like dead weight. Dead weight lying down on a cloud. The smell of the cloud was weird though. It smelt strangely sterile and quite unlike what he'd thought a cloud would smell like. He'd hoped for the smell of rain. Not this - whatever it was.

He pried open his eyes, and squinted against the bright, white light that assaulted him. Opening his eyes was like flipping a switch. Suddenly, he was aware, and everything hurt. His head. His body. His arm . He felt like he'd been hit by a truck. Fuck, he was in pain, and the memories as to why were still cloudy.

He looked around the space that he was in. It was a room, that much he could tell. Four white walls. A big window that had its curtains drawn open. He was lying on a bed in the center of the room, and hooked up to him were too many wires and tubes. His big boy brain cell could only bring him to one conclusion. He was in a hospital. But why? What the fuck had he and Aang done to-

Aang .

The last time he remembered seeing Aang was when he was crumpled in an unmoving heap at the foot of a building. And now he was in a hospital. But he was alone. One more quick look around the room told him as much. Aang wasn't with him. Sokka sucked in a deep breath as panic started to course through him. His heart rate began to accelerate; he could hear it on the monitors behind him. The steady beep, beep, beep was picking up its pace. His deep breaths were coming too fast now. His palms were sweating, and he couldn't bring himself to move from the bed. Instead, he started to pull off the monitors from his fingers and chest. He was about to yank the IV from his arm when suddenly, the door to the room opened. In walked a tall woman with dark hair and a stern expression.

"Sergeant, stop," she said cooly.

Her tone was commanding and Sokka, through the haze of his anxiety, froze. He saw her whisper something to the nurse beside her, but he couldn't make it out of the sound of his own roaring heartbeat in his ears.

By the look of her lab coat and scrubs, Sokka could tell that she was a doctor. Behind her trailed a nurse or too. The nurse looked at him with concern while the doctor showed only irritation. They began to reconnect him to the monitors to check his vitals. His heart was still racing. He didn't want either of them near him. He didn't want to be hooked up to these machines. He needed to find Aang, but he had no idea how to articulate that. He pulled his hands away from the doctor as she attempted to reattach the heart rate monitor.

No. Fuck this. He needed to get out of here. He was going to find Aang.

"Lin, I need that diastat," the doctor said.

Sokka had no idea what that was, but quite frankly, he didn't give a damn. He was getting out of here. He needed to quell this raging anxiety, and the only way he could do that was by finding Aang. He used the arm that wasn't in pain to throw back the blanket that covered his legs. He was just about to swing his legs over when he felt a small prick in his arm. His eyes darted to the nurse, who was drawing a needle away from his arm.

"Sergeant," the doctor's crisp, clear voice said. "You need to relax. We're trying to help you."

Sokka shot her a glare. How could she just ask him to relax? He had no idea where Aang was. He had no clue if he was alive or dead or if the police had even found him lying at the foot of that building. What if they'd overlooked him? What if they left him there? What if Aang was dying in the street? How could she say that she was helping him if Aang dying was the alternative?

But gradually, he felt the anxiety quelling. His heart-rate started to slow again, and his body felt heavy. He looked between the two women, his brows furrowed.

"What did you..." he mumbled. But his eyes were getting heavy again. The nurse leaned him back against the pillows.

"Sergeant," she said softly. "You need rest. You need to relax..."

"But I can't..." he mumbled as his eyes closed. "I need to find Aang..."

The next time Sokka woke up, it was dark in his room. The curtains were closed now, but he could see a faint glow from their edges. It must have been daytime. The monitors around him beeped and whirred and did their thing. But this time when he woke up, he wasn't alone.

Sitting in the chair beside his bed with her knees drawn to her chest was Katara. She looked as though she was asleep. Her eyes were closed, and her arms were folded over her knees, acting as a cushion for her head. He watched her for a moment before all of those feelings of anxiety started crawling on back.

Katara was here, but there was still no Aang. Before they could overtake him, however, he did the smart thing.

"Katara," he said quietly into the darkness. His voice was quiet, hardly above a whisper. When his sister didn't stir, he spoke again, louder this time. "Katara."

This time, she lifted her head. Her eyes, which were full of sleep, quickly focused as soon as she realized who had woken her.

"Sokka!" she exclaimed.

She was on her feet immediately, throwing her arms around him. He melted into her touch. She was the only thing that was keeping him grounded and away from that whirlpool of swirling anxiety.

He smiled and went to lift his good arm to hug her back when he found that he couldn't. His motion was stopped short by something tugging on his wrist. He nudged himself away from his sister for a second to look down.

Around his wrist was something familiar. It was a hospital restraint. He'd seen them used on patients that were deemed unsafe to themselves or others. He'd seen one of these before, but he'd never imagined he'd be on the receiving end of one.

"Well, that's interesting," he said lamely.

Katara smiled at him apologetically. "The doctor was worried that you would try and leave again."

Sokka could hardly remember waking up the first time. He knew he had, but all he could pick out were the waves of anxiety. Not much else.

"Did they sedate me?" he asked after a moment.

"Uh, yeah... They asked me to be in here to see if it would help," she said.

"Well, fuck," he said, throwing his head back against the pillows. His hair flopped against the white fabric dramatically. "That's embarrassing."

"Don't think about it like that, Sokka," she said. "We don't know exactly what happened, but you and Aang are lucky to be alive."

Aang. She said that he was lucky to be alive. That meant that he was actually alive . Sokka breathed out a heavy sigh of relief. "Yeah. I guess we are. Even if I earned the cuff of shame."

She smiled at him. "I'm going to go get the doctor. She wanted to talk to you once you woke up," Katara said. "Will you be okay on your own for a second?"

Sokka shrugged his shoulders and lifted his wrist as far as the restraint would let him. "I'm not going anywhere, am I?"

Katara offered him another apologetic smile. "Yeah. Guess not. Sorry."

His sister left the room and a few minutes later, the door opened again to reveal the same doctor that had come in before. She had that same cool expression on her features, one that said she wasn't going to take any of his bullshit. She didn't say a word to him beyond what was medically necessary as she checked his vitals. All the while he watched her.

"The bullet grazed your brachial artery through your bicep. You're lucky it didn't sever," she said. "Otherwise, we may have had to amputate your arm."

"Damn..." he said, letting out a low whistle. Sokka looked down at his arm which was in a sling across his chest. He was grateful the painkillers were strong. Sure, he was sore, but without them, he was sure he'd be in agony.

"We're going to keep you for a few days to monitor your symptoms. We want to make sure you don't get any blockages from injuring your artery. You'll go home by the end of the week next week if everything goes well."

"Oh. Good."

For some reason, she seemed oddly familiar. She had dark hair that was pulled back into a bun. Strands of her bangs hung in her face. Her face was pretty, but the scowl that she held made her seem unapproachable. Her eyes were a golden color, but they seemed to lack any and all warmth which he found odd. She took several minutes going over his vitals before she turned to leave without any other word. For some reason, he felt as though she was mad at him. Could it have been for the way he'd acted before? If that was the case.

"Hey Doc," he said to her. She stopped, her hand resting on the door handle. "I'm sorry for earlier. There was a lot going on. I hope you're not mad at me for that."

The doctor turned on her heels and walked back over to him. "Oh, I'm not angry with you for that," she said.

"Oh, good."

"I'm angry with you for other reasons."

Sokka blinked. What the actual fuck? He'd only met this woman twice now, and if she wasn't mad at him for the first meeting, then why the fuck was she mad?

"I don't know what you've gotten yourself tangled up in. Frankly, I don't give a damn about you. What matters to me is Zuko," she said cooly.

Sokka looked at her, his expression confused. What the fuck did any of this have to do with Zuko? The last time he had checked, the tattoo artist was waiting back at his apartment for Sokka to come over- Fuck. It was daytime. He'd totally stood Zuko up. He couldn't help but feel terrible about that, but he was sure he'd understand considering the situation. He could worry about apologizing later. For now, he needed to worry about this woman that was angry with him.

He looked at her, confused. "I'm sorry I don't know what you mean."

"I'm his sister," she snapped.

Sokka took another look at the doctor before him. Suddenly, he could see the resemblance. Their faces had similar structures to them, and then there were their eyes. They both had the same golden colored eyes. He'd seen her before at the bar. Hell. He had seen Zuko's sister on more than one occasion. Once at the bar, and then once in a photograph of their family. She had been much younger then, but there was no mistaking it.

"Oh, uh. And how did I make you mad?" he asked hesitantly. He wasn't really sure he wanted to know the answer.

"I know the both of you have something going on . He hasn't been this happy in a long time," she said. "But my brother has been through a lot . If you hurt him, I'll hurt you."

Sokka wrinkled his brows. He never had any intentions in the present or future to harm Zuko. He couldn't fathom the idea. Zuko was an innocent, awkward little turtle duck. Not to mention, he was also really great in bed. Not that that made any difference in how he'd treat him.

"I don't plan to hurt him," he said. "I promise."

"Good."

"But you do realize you're threatening a patient, right?" he asked.

Zuko's sister fixed him with a cold, steady glare. "I know."

She walked to the door while Sokka watched her with wide eyes. He felt a chill run down his spine. This broad was just as bad as Mai, and Mai was terrifying. Considering they were friends, Sokka never wanted to be in the same room as the pair of them. He'd sooner jump off of a cliff.

Before she left however, she stood in the doorway, still and unmoving. "Your tattoo is nice. Zuzu did a good job."

"Wait! Aren't you going to take this thing off?" he asked, raising his wrist to wiggle the restraint.

But she was already gone, leaving him confused, flattered, and terrified all at the same time. Such an intimidating woman to have as his doctor, but what were the odds she would be Zuko's sister. Sokka hummed. Zuko. He missed him a lot right now. He should have been there the night before. He should have been snuggling with him and enjoying his evening. He shouldn't have been lying in a hospital bed, but who'd have thunk that a crazy, shotgun-wielding man would have tried to assassinate them.

Sokka relaxed against the pillow. He wondered briefly if Zuko even knew he was in the hospital. He probably could have asked his sister, but he was too busy being intimidated to think clearly. Maybe he could call the nurse and ask her... Sokka was about to hit the button above his bed to call the nurse when the door to his room opened.

Sokka's heart soared. Zuko? Could the spirits really be on his side? His heart dropped when he saw who it was. Piandao. He let his head flop back against the pillows. Sure, he appreciated his boss, but it wasn't the person that he was dying to see on his sick bed.

"I didn't think seeing me would cause you so much misery," Piandao said with a chuckle as he sat down in the chair that sat beside his bed. "Should I have brought the 'get well' committee? I'm sure Jet and Hahn would love to see you."

Sokka cringed. "Nope. You're good enough for me, Captain."

Piandao smiled wanly. "How are you feeling, kid?"

"Like I got hit by a freight train."

"Considering the size of the shooter, you might as well have been."

"Did you get him?" Sokka asked.

The smile on Piandao's face told him all that he needed to know. Yeah. They'd gotten him. Sokka let out a breath of relief. At least he wouldn't need to worry about Combustion Man tracking him down and killing him at some other point.

"Thanks to you and Aang, we got him," Piandao said.

"Good."

"As much as I like you kid, I'm not here just to visit," Piandao said. "I'm still working the end of the case. I need your statement."

Sokka snorted. "Figures."

They sat there for a good ten minutes while Sokka told the captain everything that he remembered from the night before. Some bits and pieces were a little fuzzy, but for the most part, he got it across. And when he was done, Piandao closed his notebook and stood up.

"I'll let you get some rest, Sokka," he said. "You won't be coming back to work for at least a week, but you're on desk duty."

Sokka groaned. "C'mon! Desk duty?"

"You got shot, Sokka. You need time for physical therapy and recovery."

He rolled his eyes, but he understood. "I guess..."

"I'll send your family in. They've been waiting long enough."

And as he promised, Sokka's family came in shortly after he left. He'd already seen Katara, but seeing her again made him happy. Who he was surprised to see was his father.

"Dad? What are you doing here?" Sokka asked as he tried to sit himself up in bed.

His dad smiled at him. "My son gets shot, and I'm not going to visit his sickbed? What kind of father would that make me?"

A large smile cracked across Sokka's lips. It was nice to know that he was loved, that his family would drop everything to be there for him. He was fortunate in that respect.

"Gran Gran said she wanted to be here," Katara said with a pursed smile. "But you know how hard it is for her to get on a plane these days."

"It's okay," he said. "You're here. That's what matters."

"What happened, son?" Dad asked. His features had evolved into a mask of concern.

Sokka shook his head. It was all just a mess. "Honestly, I have no idea. One second, Aang and I were stopped in the industrial district of the Middle Ring, and the next, some guy was shooting at us," he said. "I don't know what his deal was. I don't know if he hates cops or something or if this is just some isolated incident. I don't know."

"The crime has been going up here, though, Dad," Katara interjected.

"It has?" Dad asked.

"Yeah. It's been through the roof. We can hardly keep up," Sokka mumbled. And then a thought hit him. "How's Aang? I haven't heard anything, and the last time I saw him, he-"

His words stuttered off as tears prickled in his eyes. If he had somehow gotten his best friend gravely injured...

"He's fine, Sokka," Katara said, taking hold of his hand. "He's got some cuts and bruises and a semi-severe concussion. He'll be okay. They're keeping him one more night, and then he's going home. I think you're staying a little longer."

He nodded. "Good," he said. And then he paused. "Katara! How am I supposed to zip my pants? How am I supposed to pee?"

"Sokka! Gross! " she shouted, covering her ears.

"It's a good question!"

"One that you don't need to ask me! "

Sokka groaned. "Who should I ask then?"

"I don't know. How about your boyfriend?"

"You have a boyfriend?" Dad asked suddenly. "Since when? Why am I always the last to know?"

Sokka shot his sister a glare. "He's not my boyfriend. "

"Yet," Katara said.

"That's beside the point."

"But you're seeing someone, son?" Dad asked.

Sokka blushed and averted his eyes. Sure, he was open with his dad. Sure, he had told him that he was interested in both men and women, but they'd really never gotten onto these sorts of conversations before. He didn't exactly know how to react to this.

"Yeah. We've gone on a couple of dates. It's not a big deal, Dad," he insisted

"Who is he? Have I met him?"

"Uh. No. You haven't."

"Uh. Yeah he did. He met him in the waiting room," Katara corrected.

"The young man with the dark hair and the-" Dad made a motion toward his eye. A look from Katara, however, seemed to make him think better of what he was going to say. "Deep voice."

Sokka froze. "Wait. Zuko is here?" he asked.

"Yeah. He actually got here before we did. You were still in surgery, and he was pacing like crazy," she said. "He made the nursing staff super nervous with how tense he was. When we heard you'd woken up, he let us go see you first, though."

The thought of Zuko pacing around the hospital waiting room made him swoon. He must have come as soon as he'd heard. Hell, he'd beaten Katara there, which was nuts. Anytime he'd gotten hurt when he first started this job, Katara had been the first one there. He couldn't believe that Zuko had beaten her. But then again, if Zuko cared about him as much as he cared about Zuko then...

"I need to go see him," he stated.

Sokka went to throw the blanket off his legs to get out of bed when Mr. Restraint Cuff stopped him. He flopped back against the mattress dramatically, a groan exploding from his chest.

"And that's why they put it on you in the first place," Katara chastised, her eyes narrowed. She crossed over to him and flicked him square in the forehead. "They can't trust you to stay in bed."

"Just let me see him! Katara!" he yelled, pulling at the arm restraint. This was so not fucking fair. "You're a terrible, horrible sister," he whined. "I can't even rub the spot! You're the worst. Dad, can you ground her?"

Beside her, Dad chuckled. "I can't control your sister, Sokka," he said. "Never could."

"Isn't that right?" Sokka huffed, flopping back against his pillows. A strand of his hair fell annoyingly on his face, and he attempted to blow it away. But with no hands, he struggled to even do that . Fuck this hospital and their dumb rules. He tried to leave the room one time and they put him on bed arrest. "Now can someone please go get him?"

Katara rolled his eyes. "Come on, Dad. Let Sokka see his boyfriend," she said.

"He's not my boyfriend!"

Katara gave him a flippant wave of her hand. "Yeah, yeah. Keep trying to convince yourself, Sokka."

As they were walking out, his dad gave him a double thumbs up. Sokka just about died. He wasn't in high school anymore. He didn't need his dad's overbearing support. But then again, it was nice to have it at the same time. It was comforting.

His family left, and once again, Sokka was plunged into silence. It was just him and monitors. He closed his eyes and relaxed. The small struggle honestly made him tired. Spirits, he felt wimpy. That was the perk of bleeding out from a major artery, now isn't it. That, and whatever drugs that Zuko's sister had him on were definitely kicking in again. He barely felt the pain, and his body was heavy. He didn't exactly like the feeling of not being all there, of being in some altered state of mind, but it was better than the alternative.

"Hey stranger," said a rasping, smokey voice from beside him. He hadn't heard the door open. Fuck. He was out of it.

Sokka opened his eyes and lazily looked at the man beside him. "Hey sexy."

"How're you feeling?" he asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Like I'm on a cloud. It's almost like cactus juice," he said, cracking a smile. "I wanted to get out of bed to come see you."

Zuko raised his brow at him. "Did you now?"

"But I'm on bed arrest courtesy of your sister," he said, lifting his wrist. It only got two inches off the mattress bed before he felt tension.

"My sister?"

"Yep," he said, popping the 'p'. "She's terrifying."

"Agni..." Zuko mumbled. "Did she threaten you?"

"You, sir, are a genius," he said.

Zuko shook his head at him, a wry, barely there smile caressing his features. "You nearly died, and you can still crack a joke."

"You betcha," he said. He gave Zuko a half-assed finger guns. "Who told you what happened."

"The news," Zuko said.

"Ah."

His features seemed to darken immediately, and Sokka frowned. Well that was the worst possible way for him to find out. Sokka raised his eyebrows in contemplation. It could have been worse. His sister could have called him. He doubted that she would have dropped the bomb any more delicately than the news had.

"When you didn't show up, I thought you had just forgotten, but... Then I was watching the new and... H-Honestly," Zuko said, his voice cracking. "I was terrified... They said that you had gotten shot. You weren't even on duty today and you had gotten shot . They said that you were in critical condition on the news. I-I thought you were gonna to die."

Sokka's eyes darted in the tattoo artist's direction. He saw tears in those beautiful, golden eyes. "Zuko... I..." he started.

But he didn't know what else to say. Actions would speak so much louder than words, but he was so limited. He wanted so badly to reach out and hold his hand, and he couldn't. With one arm in a sling and the other, well... He felt useless.

"They said what hospital you'd been taken to, and..." Zuko said with a huff and a wry shake of his head. "I don't think I've ever run so fast in my damn life."

"I'm here, Zuko... I'm not going anywhere," Sokka said softly. "A bullet isn't gonna take me down. I promise. It'll be something anticlimactic, like old age or choking."

Zuko snorted. "You're not helping."

"Then help me help you," he said. Zuko looked at him confused. "Hold my damn hand, weenie."

He stretched out his fingers for emphasis. Zuko took one look at his outstretched fingers and took hold of his hand. Sokka immediately felt warmth spread through his hand, and it made him realize just how cold and alone he'd really felt cooped up in this hospital room. That fire that made Zuko was spreading through him, making him feel warm and fuzzy.

"I'm tired, Zuko," Sokka said.

The man gave him a tiny smile. "Then I'll let you get some rest."

Sokka startled slightly as he felt Zuko's fingers begin to pull away. No . It was too soon. He didn't want him to go. He didn't want him to leave him. He just wanted him to stay.

"Don't go," he said softly, like a wounded polar bear dog. "Please? Can you just stay and hold my hand?"

Spirits, he felt childish saying it, but he didn't want to be alone. He wanted Zuko with him. Sure, he was a brave guy, but the last eighteen hours had been fucking terrifying . Who could blame him for wanting to be comforted by someone he cared about?

"Okay," Zuko said. "I'll stay. But rest."

Sokka nodded and didn't say another word. The drugs were pulling him back under. The last thing he saw when he fell asleep was Zuko's face, and it was the exact same thing that he saw when he woke up several hours later.

He could see the passage of time through the darkness in the room. There wasn't a halo around the curtains anymore. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the room's night lights. They gave Zuko's skin this angelic look to it. He was sitting there, holding Sokka's hand with a book in his lap. When he turned the page, his golden eyes glanced up and caught Sokka's own.

"Hey there," Sokka mumbled. He still felt fuzzy and weird, but the lull the drugs had pulled over him seemed to have worn off.

"Hey."

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Just after nine. I think they're gonna kick me out soon."

"Over my dead body."

"Sokka, in your condition, it wouldn't be that hard," Zuko said with a chuckle.

As if on cue, there was a light knock on the door. In walked a nurse. She was a different girl than the one that had jabbed a needle in his arm earlier that morning.

"Sir, visiting hours are over," she said. "Unless you're family or a significant other, I'm going to have to ask you to be on your way."

Zuko nodded and closed his book. But Sokka wasn't going to let him go. Call him selfish, but he wanted Zuko with him if he was willing to stay.

"He's my boyfriend," Sokka said quickly, lifting his and Zuko's conjoined hands as far as they could go. From the corner of his eye, he saw Zuko shoot him a look.

The nurse furrowed her brows. "Oh. I'm sorry. Uh, well, please hit the call button if you should need anything," she said before ducking out of the room.

Sokka let out a sigh of relief and looked over at Zuko. There was a look of exasperation on his features.

"What?" he asked.

"So, I'm your boyfriend, huh?" he asked with a quirked brow.

Sokka offered him a sheepish smile. "Yeah, uh, sorry. I didn't exactly ask you to be my boyfriend," he said. He then quickly added, "I just didn't want her to kick you out."

"I mean, I could get used to the title if you wouldn't mind keeping it," Zuko said. "And if you agree to not get shot again any time soon."

The sheepish smile on his features quickly morphed into a wide grin, cheeky grin. "Fucking gladly ," he said.

Zuko leaned in and their lips met. It wasn't the most amazing way to ask him out. It wasn't bold. It wasn't dramatic. There weren't fireworks going off in the background. Hell, it wasn't even formal. It had just happened. But Sokka was happy.

"Spirits, I want to hold you," Sokka murmured.

"I think I can make that happen," Zuko said.

"What-?" Sokka asked, but before he could finish the question, Zuko's fingers were working at the clasp on the cuff around his wrist. He felt it fall away, and he gave his wrist a quick flex.

"Don't you think we'll get in trouble for that?" Sokka asked.

Zuko snorted. "As if. Azula did it to prove a point," he said. "Now scoot over."

Sokka shot him a mischievous look and shifted his heavy limbed body over a few inches to make room for Zuko. The artist slipped out of his shoes and climbed up beside Sokka. His warmth leached into Sokka's entire being, and it relaxed his entire being. Spirits, he was happy. He let his head fall onto Zuko's shoulder and he closed his eyes. He had a boyfriend. He had snuggles. He had Zuko.

"Sokka, I maybe think that I might be sorta falling for you, too."

Sokka hummed contentedly. "Good. 'Cause you're not gonna be able to get rid of me."

A/N/: Hey guys! I really hope you liked this chapter! Please don't know my medical knowledge. I tried to do research, but medical stuff is confusing. I'm not a doctor. So I don't know much of what I'm talking about, but I tried.

As always, thank you to my lovely betas Sissy921 and MyZinger. Literal lifelines. Thank you for your comments and your kudos and your reads.