And I'm back with another chapter. I was planning to post this yesterday but I decided to wait a day.

Originally this chapter and next chapter were going to be one, but I decided to split them up into two for length reasons. I hope you like this chapter, the story is more or less beginning to take form now and actual plot events start happening from here on out. Hope you enjoy it!


As the week passed, Zuko found himself falling into a careful rhythm. It was odd, he hadn't had any semblance of routine in years. It was almost nice, not that he'd ever admit that. He was still waiting to go home.

"Zuko," Iroh called, knocking on his bedroom door Wednesday morning.

He groaned and reached for his phone. It was 7:03am. Did his uncle ever sleep in? Fuck it. He closed his eyes again, refusing to get up. What was the point anyways? He hadn't bothered to do his homework from the day before - aside from English, but that wasn't really homework was it? - and the teachers were likely going to make a scene. Not to mention his bio teacher decided it was the perfect time to assign group work, they were supposed to find out their project partners today. His stomach turned. If there was one thing he hated more than school itself, it was fucking group work. It wasn't his fault he didn't play well with others, besides, he preferred to do it on his own. It was funny, doing school work made him anxious, but not doing school work also made him anxious. School as a whole made him fucking anxious. No wonder he stopped going.

Fifteen minutes passed before Iroh knocked on his door again. "Zuko, breakfast is ready."

Zuko pulled the blanket back over his head.

After a moment, Iroh opened the door. Seeing his nephew, he sighed. "Zuko you need to get up. We have to leave in half an hour."

He couldn't see his uncle's face, but he didn't care. "I'm not going," he muttered, pulling his blanket closer. "I hate school and I'm done going."

It wasn't the first time they had this argument in the last week, and it wouldn't be the last either.

Iroh was surprisingly patient. "Why?"

He rolled his eyes. "Because it's terrible, isn't that an answer?" he spat the words, knowing they were muffled by his blanket anyways.

"It can't all be terrible," Iroh reasoned, watching the lump that was his nephew. "I recall you liking English."

Okay, so he wasn't wrong about that. "I can read those books anywhere," he answered.

"I suppose," was Iroh's reply. "But who would you discuss it with? I am not as familiar with the books you are reading as your teacher."

"I'm still not going," Zuko snapped, sitting up to glare at his uncle.

Iroh raised his eyebrows at the shirt Zuko had worn to bed. It was a gift from a friend of his. It was black with the grin of the Cheshire Cat with his infamous quote "We're All Mad Here"

He felt himself blush. "It was a gift," he muttered, pulling the blankets up to cover it. In reality, he couldn't stand the shirt. It reminded him of an edgy tumblr post, but the girl who gave it to him past away, and it felt wrong to get rid of it.

Iroh sighed a second time that morning before changing the topic back to their previous conversation. "How about you go for the morning? If you can't make it through, you can come home."

Zuko was about to fight him before remembering. Mrs. Sato mentioned she picked up some advanced reading for him.

"Fine," he said, looking away from his uncle.

Iroh merely nodded, taking the small victory. "Come downstairs, your breakfast is getting cold." He closed the door behind him.

Zuko listened for the creak of the stairs before getting up. It was better not to risk being seen.

His clothes were scattered across the floor, in a mix of dirty and clean. Carefully, he tossed off the blankets and crawled out from the safety of the bed. At least Iroh's house was never cold, it was a nice change compared to his father's home, or waking up in a park somewhere,

Picking a shirt off the floor, he smirked. He had woken up in strange places more times than he could count, and it was usually a sign that he had a great night. Unless he was woken up by a cop, that was less than desirable.

He slipped off the shirt he was wearing and glanced at his abdomen. His ribs still showed against his skin in a way that was less than healthy, but that was due to the fact he was usually too anxious to eat. It was a wonder Iroh still bothered making him breakfast, he only ever ate enough to satisfy the elder.

Grabbing a - hopefully - clean shirt off the floor, he found himself thankful that after so many weeks, the bruises had faded.

Taking off his pajama pants and slipping on a pair of jeans hurt more than he would have liked to admit. The fleece was soft against the new injuries on his thighs and hips, denim was not so kind. It rubbed and chafed. In the very least he hadn't bleed on the material, that would be difficult to explain. He made a mental note to buy some gauze and bandages before Iroh noticed that his were disappearing.

Looking around, Zuko frowned. His hoodies were buried under separate piles of clothes. He grabbed the first he saw and threw it on. He'd have to do laundry soon.

He picked up his backpack, which had been carelessly tossed against his closet door the evening before, and headed out of his room. It only took a few minutes in the bathroom to brush his teeth before he was forcing himself down the stairs.

The smell of bacon made him gag as it reached his nose.

Iroh sat at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in his hand as he read the newspaper. A plate of scrambled eggs, two strips of bacon, and a piece of toast sat on the table across from him, a steaming cup of tea waited.

Zuko dropped his bag by the front door and walked over as he checked his phone. It was 7:30, meaning they'd have to leave in about fifteen minutes, but Iroh could push it to twenty is he refused to eat, after all, the school was only five minutes away.

He pulled back the chair and settled into itm trying to find a way out of eating. He picked up the tea and sipped it: Camomile.

"I got an email from your therapist," Iroh said casually as Zuko sipped his tea. He couldn't help the scowl that appeared on his face. His uncle ignored it. "She said you still have an aversion to medication."

There was a lot of other things said in that email, Zuko was sure. His appointment the day before hadn't gone well. In fact, he had refused to say anything at all. He hated people trying to get into his head. He shrugged as he picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled on it. He had discovered quickly that it was easier to let Iroh talk than try to fight everything he said,

"I was thinking, perhaps we could come up with a compromise," he said carefully, waiting to see Zuko's reaction.

Zuko looked up surprised. "Compromise?" he asked cautiously.

Iroh folded the newspaper and place it in front of him. "You miss some of the freedoms you had before coming here, don't you?" he asked. Zuko snorted, that was the understatement of the year. "If you agree to try medication for two months, I'll let you borrow my car whenever you want."

He was silent for a moment. There was a lot of things he missed, but driving was definitely up there. He missed having the freedom to go for a drive at midnight if he'd wanted. He chewed his bacon as he thought it over. "I can borrow it starting when?" he asked, unsure.

Iroh smiled, "if you start taking it today, a week from now." There was some significance about a week, he had heard that length of time mentioned in the hospital, but he couldn't remember the relevance.

"That's bribery," Zuko pointed out.

Iroh smiled, "Yes."

He was quiet for a moment. "I'll think about it," he finally answered. It was too early to decide what he wanted to do, especially when it involved something that would alter his personality. Who was he without anger and emptiness? It's not like they would do anything anyways, he told himself, he wasn't depressed or anything, no matter what the doctors said.

His uncle only nodded before getting up. "You should finish eating," he said, taking his empty cup to the sink.

In the end, Zuko ate about half his plate. It was the most he had eaten since before the hospital, and there was no mistaking the glint of joy in Iroh's eyes, even as he scraped the other half into the garbage.

They were driving when another question popped into Zuko's head.

"When would I be able to use the car?" he asked, glancing sidelong at his uncle.

"At first, in the evenings," he answered, not taking his eyes off the road. "But after a few weeks, you would be welcome to use it whenever you would like. I don't mind walking to the tea shop."

Zuko scowled, "then why drive?"

Iroh laughed, "because I fear that if I don't drive you to school, you won't go."

He looked out the window again, opting not to answer. Once again, his uncle wasn't wrong, that didn't mean he had to admit it though. He was quiet for the rest of the drive to school.


As it did everyday, English class flew by. Aang's friend Katara still sat next to him but he couldn't figure out why. Everyday she greeted him with a bright smile and questions about how his night had been, and did he read the chapter they were supposed it? Wasn't that character amazing? What did he think about the historical context of that scene? It was... odd. Zuko wasn't sure he'd ever met somebody else who seemed to take a genuine interest in literature - other than teachers.

It was, nice, in an unusual way.

"See you at lunch?" she asked as she gathered her books at the end of class. No doubt Aang would ask him the same question in study hall.

"Yeah, I guess," he replied, ignoring the fact that he'd wanted to go back to Iroh's. It would worry Aang, and Zuko couldn't decide whether it was worth it or not. Packing up his own belongings, he sighed. He would have to stop by his locker and put some of the books Mrs. Sato gave him into it, his backpack would be too heavy otherwise.

Katara looked like she wanted to say something, but decided against it. Smiling at him, she rushed to her next class.

Zuko was much slower, always one of the last out of the classroom. Katara was nice enough, all of Aang's friends were, but he still wasn't sure what to make of her, or any of them really. Never before had Zuko seen such a mixed group of friends before, they had almost no common interests among all of them.

Sighing, he began the walk to his locker. He was piling his books inside when a voice drew his attention.

"Zuko, right?"

He turned to see Jet, the boy who had given him a smoke on his first day. The teenager hadn't spoken to him since.

"Yeah," Zuko answered hesitantly.

Jet leaned against the lockers, smirking as he played with a box of cigarettes. "What class do you have next?" he asked, taking one out of the package.

"Study hall," he grabbed his laptop. "Is there something you want?"

Jet laughed, "hey, no reason to be mistrustful," he flashed a smile that made Zuko's skin crawl. He ignored the discomfort. "I was just wondering if you would be willing to share a smoke with me."

As much as he disliked the boy, he would never turn down a chance to smoke. "We skipping class then?"

"What else would we do?" Jet answered and Zuko closed his locker.

The walk out of the building was surprisingly easy. Apparently nobody was concerned about what kids in a small bedroom community would get up to during school hours. He tried not to think about how Iroh would react to him skipping class, as he would inevitably find out. After all, he didn't want to go in the first place.

Jet led him to an alleyway behind the building. He passed the pack to Zuko while he lit up. After Zuko did the same, the pack disappeared into his pocket.

The effect was immediate. It had been little under a week since his last smoke, and nothing felt better than the rush of nicotine entering his bloodstream.

"You know," Jet said after a moment, "there's a gas station about a block from here that doesn't ID."

Zuko raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, just walk in and buy a pack. It's great."

He was about to say something when he felt his phone vibrate. Taking it out, he saw a text from Aang. He had given him his phone number a few days before, after Aang offered his own.

Aang: You ok? Katara said you were in english

He stifled a sigh as he took another drag from his cigarette. He didn't know why the thought of leaving Aang alone bothered him, he barely knew the kid. Maybe he felt some bond because he got into a fight over him, or maybe it was because Aang was one of the first legitimately nice people he'd encountered in years.

"I'll have to swing by," he told Jet instead of replying to the text.

Zuko didn't know how it happened, but one cigarette became two, became three, became four, and by the time lunch rolled around, he and Jet had smoked the entire pack.

"Not bad," Jet said with a smirk, "I knew there was something I liked about you."

"We have class," Zuko pointed out after a moment, but he made no move to go back.

"Yeah we do," Jet agreed, crushing the last of his cigarette between his boot and the dirt.

They sat in silence for awhile, neither prepared to make it back to the building.

If there was one thing Zuko had learned in the past three hours, it's that he did not like Jet. He was cocky and arrogant, and far too quick to assume he was right. In the end though, Zuko supposed it didn't matter, he had barely gotten along with most of his friends back home.

"Katara is pretty hot isn't she?" Jet asked after a moment, he was watching as a car drove by. That caught Zuko off guard. Jet smirked when he looked back at him, "you know, the girl in your English class."

Zuko frowned, there was something in his voice that didn't sound right. "Yeah I know her," he shrugged, "she seems nice."

Jet's laugh was hollow and Zuko found himself uncomfortably reminded of the worst guys he knew. "Nice isn't exactly the word I'd use for her personality, but she has other assets."

"Huh," Zuko said, biting the inside of his mouth. It was a risk to say what he was about to, but he figured he could take him if it went badly. In the very least it would change the course of the conversation. "Figured you played for the other team actually."

Jet snorted. "Well you aren't totally wrong." That was a better outcome than he'd expected. "Guys, girls, they aren't all that different." He looked at him, "have a problem with that?"

Zuko laughed softly, "no, I know all kinds of people back home."

Jet looked at him curiously. "Yeah, I suppose you would. Where is 'home' for you anyways? I heard rumors of a traveling circus."

He shrugged, cursing himself for the worst lie he'd ever told. "if you heard them, then they must be true."

Jet eyed him suspiciously.. "You live with your uncle right? Can't say I've ever had the pleasure of meeting him, not much of a tea person myself." He shook his head. "Not that I'm judging. I don't live with my parents either." He looked at Zuko and answered the unasked question. "Foster care. Parents died My dad: overseas, and my mom had cancer," he looked away. "There was a bill proposed to help people like her, but it was shot down by one vote." He laughed bitterly. "The same man who voted to send my dad to die, voted to refuse my mom healthcare, bastard."

Zuko froze. His father. Jet was talking about his father. He even knew the bill he was talking about.

"Something wrong?" Jet asked, looking at him curiously.

He shook his head.

"You know," his tone of voice shifted a bit. "I always wondered how a man could stand up in front of thousands of people and declare that he supports 'family values', only to turn around and deny healthcare and send soldiers off the die." He looked at Zuko. "I was always curious about his kids."

Fuck. "Kids?" Zuko asked as calmly as he could manage. "What about them?"

"What they must be like," he shrugged, "I mean the apple doesn't fall all that far from the tree right? I can't imagine they're very good people. Wouldn't you agree, Zuko?"

There was something in his voice. The way he said his name. He knew. Fuck. He really shouldn't have gone to school.


I wasn't half as angsty as Zuko is when I was in High School and that's already saying something. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!