If I'm honest, I meant to have this up like two weeks ago but I was in Seattle for the first time so I was a bit busy. I hope you like this chapter! I definitely do.


He told them - not all of it, he'd never tell somebody all of it - but he told them enough.

The rain pattered against the roof of their house, echoing through the kitchen.

"I had some...problems," he examined the stitches on his arm. "I ended up in the hospital and came to live with my uncle." He sighed. "It just kind of sucks. I miss my home, and my friends. Everything here is so... different." He was more open than he ever was with his therapist. "I just want to go home."

"How old were you the first time?" Korra asked, her fingers running along her own arm.

He thought for a moment, knowing what she was asking. "Thirteen I think, maybe twelve."

She nodded in understanding and he felt himself open up a little more. She understood and it had been so long since he'd talked about anything.

"I just wish I wasn't here anymore. Everything sucks, it has always sucked,and it always will. I'll never be what everybody wants me to be, what my father wanted me to be." He hated how whiny he sounded. "All I wanted was to die, but I didn't. I woke up and found out my father didn't want me anymore, that I'm too much of an embarrassment, a disappointment."

"Your uncle is Iroh, right?" Asami asked gently, "the owner of the tea shop?"

Zuko nodded and Korra smiled. "He's a good man," she said, "helped me through a lot when I was a teenager. His son was sweet too." So she had known Lu Ten then. "Why were you outside in this weather?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, I panicked I guess," he wouldn't look at them. "I was already freaking out, I skipped class today and he come home and found me and I knew he was angry, I thought he was going to-" he stopped himself.

"You thought he was going to hit you?" Korra asked. Her voice was steady, but he wouldn't look at her face.

Nodding he explained, "I- I don't think he would. He hasn't given me any reason to think he would, but I know I fucked up and I was scared and-"

"And you panicked," Asami said softly.

"Love," Korra said, changing the topic for a moment. "Can you call Iroh? His contact is in my phone, we probably should have called him already."

She nodded before getting up. Grabbing Korra's phone out of her bag, she retreated to the bedroom. "Hey Iroh, yeah it's Asami. No, Korra's okay, actually -" the conversation was cut off by the door closing behind her.

"She was always the social one," Korra said after a moment. "Always knows what to say in difficult situations." She took a deep breath before lowering her voice a little. "Zuko, do you feel safe to go home? If not you can stay here, or we can contact a social worker or take you to the hospital-"

"It's not my home," he pointed out. "I'm sure my father will have me home soon, I just... I just need to prove I'm worth something."

She looked like she was about to argue, but decided against it. Sometimes you have to pick your battles. "Okay, but for now, are you safe to go back to your uncle's house?"

He nodded slowly. "I shouldn't have left. I was just overwhelmed."

They were quiet for a moment. Through the closed door they could hear Asami's soft voice, but couldn't make out what was being said.

"I was like you once," Korra told him after a moment. "I'm sure you already gathered that, but I was a lot like you."

He finally looked up at her. "what do you mean?"

She leaned back in her chair. "I was angry and hurting; refused to let anybody else in. I was so sure I wasn't going to live past 18 that I didn't even bother with school. I was passed around from home to home; person who didn't care to person who didn't care. Nobody saw any sort of future for me. I spent most of my nights on the streets, drinking, getting high, and running from cops."

Zuko raised his eyebrows. "What happened?"

"When I was 17 I was picked up by cops for drug dealing. I was a runaway who had been in foster care since early childhood, so it wasn't hard to find out who I was. I was assigned to a social worker who placed me in a family for troubled youth. It took months to finally let my foster father in, I was certain he would send me away. No matter what I did though, he always told me he had faith in me. Gyasto saved my life."

"But you were Aang's foster sibling," he protested. "You're at least ten years older than him."

She smiled, "only nine actually. I aged out of the system but Gyasto refused to kick me out like most foster parents do. He let me stay because it was a stable place for me. I was 21 when Aang came, he was 12 at the time, and I adored him. I won't tell you his story, but if you ask him I know he'll tell you. I moved in with Asami a year later but we all go back for dinner every sunday." she smiled, it was genuine. "I got better because I let people help me. It was the same for Aang, and a lot of other people I know."

He was going to say something else when Asami walked in the room.

"Iroh is glad to know you're safe," she told him before looking at Korra. Zuko felt like he missed a silent conversation between them. "Your clothes should be dry soon, we'll take you back when they're done." She was quiet for a moment or Korra looked like she was silently urging her to say something. Eventually Asami smiled at him. "Zuko, I want you to know that you can always come to me. Even to Korra if you need. If you ever get too overwhelmed with school, let me know and I'll see what I can do. I'm not promising miracles, but most teachers will lay off if they know something is going on. We aren't evil."

Her eyes brightened when she saw Zuko smile at the joke.

"And I'll make sure Iroh gives you my number," Korra added, "you can call or text me anything. Unless I'm responding to a call, I'll always answer right away, even if it's the middle of the night.."

He wasn't sure how to react. It had been years since he'd felt like somebody was on his side. "Thank you," he said at last.

"And Zuko," Korra added, "I know Aang can be a little..."

"Overbearing? Excitable?" Asami supplied with a loving tone..

Korra laughed and Zuko couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, that," she answered, "I know you're still nervous and unsure of what's going on, but give Aang a chance. He really is a sweet kid, and I know he likes you."

"He's talked about me?" Zuko asked, feeling a bit guilty. Sure he hadn't been terrible to Aang, but he wasn't exactly the friendliest person..

"You have a right to be mistrustful," Korra told him, "but don't let that ruin everything for you. Yes he's talked about you. All good things other than a bit of concern." She answered before he could ask. "Aang has an eye for people who are different, and he tends to pull them into his group." she laughed, "it started with Katara and then her brother when he was 13, than his cousin Suki. I think Toph joined next." Asami was smiling as well. "What I mean to say is give them a chance. They may turn out to be good for you, if you let them."

He wasn't sure what to say to that, so he just nodded.

"Have you ever seen the movie for A Streetcar Named Desire?" Asami asked, changing the topic. "We own it if you want to watch it while your clothes dry."

"The old 1951 movie?" he asked, voice lighting up.

She nodded and guided him and Korra into the living room.


They probably didn't need to watch the entire movie, but Zuko was thankful that they did. Asami spent the hour and a half marking, which he came to learn was what a teacher spent their life doing. Korra seemed to have a habit of talking through movies. She asked questions about characters, motivations, themes and motifs. He suspected that living with an English teacher would do that.

By the time it was done, his clothes were dry and it was nearing 9:00pm.

The rain was drizzling when Korra drove him back to his uncle's house.

"I'm serious about calling me," she told him after knocking on the door. "Whenever you need."

Iroh answered before he could reply. Worry shifted to relief as soon as he saw Zuko. He didn't even glance at his bandaged arm as he let his nephew and Korra enter the house.

"We fed him," Korra said.

Iroh smiled reassuringly at him. "Why don't you go take a shower nephew?"

"Just throw out the bandages," Korra told him, "I'll rewrap it before I leave, just in case, but really they're just to keep it clean."

Zuko nodded and started up the stairs, he knew a dismissal when he heard one. He wondered what they were going to say.

A few minutes later he stepped under the hot spray of water.

It stung his arm, but it wasn't like he'd never felt it before. His legs ached, unsurprising when he realized Korra and Asami lived a 40 minute walk from Iroh's house.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, but the water was starting to go cold when he finally got out. Grabbing a towel he opened the door and shivered as cold air hit him. He changed into a tshirt and sweatpants, not all that different from what Asami had him wear.

Voices drifted up the stairs but he couldn't hear what was being said. Picking a hoodie off the floor, he realized the blood stain had been cleaned. Now it was just a slightly discoloured patch, only noticeable when he was looking for it. He couldn't help but wonder how his uncle learned to clean stains like that so well.

When he walked downstairs, he found Korra sitting across from Iroh at the table. She had a mug in her hands.

"Let me double check my work," she told him when he entered the room. He hesitated but took a seat next to her. Iroh stood to get him a mug of tea.

Quickly, she checked the stitches before rewrapping his arm in a clean bandage. Once she was done, she sat back and met his gaze.

"Why won't you take your medication?" she asked shortly.

"I don't need them," he replied, suddenly defensive.

She snorted. "Yeah that's bullshit and we both know it."

"Korra-" Iroh began, she cut him off.

"You need them," she stated, ignoring his uncle, "I can promise that. There's nothing wrong with it, or you, it just means your brain isn't all that good with chemicals. I need them, too."

He looked away and was quiet for a moment. "I don't want to change."

Korra sighed, "I figured it would be something like that." She thought for a moment. "There really isn't much I can say. Misery isn't all you are you know. And medication doesn't change much about you."

"Yes it does," he snapped. Iroh was silent.

"Not any more than cocaine, pot, ecstasy, even alcohol. You can still function on an SSRI." She picked up an orange bottle he hadn't noticed before. "These are less dangerous and more helpful than anything you've ever taken. So why are you so against it?"

He didn't say anything. Mostly because he didn't know.

"Do you even want to get better?" she asked, still holding the bottle.

That struck a chord, his first response was to be angry, to yell of course I do, but for some reason, he didn't. "I-I..." He knew nothing other than misery or anger, if he were to lose that, what else would there be? It had kept him alive, what was he supposed to say? He would be nothing. "I don't know."

"It's okay to be scared," she told him softly. "It's okay to not know what you want. What isn't okay is to put yourself in danger." She put the bottle in front of him before she stood. "Try not to skip Asami's classes," she commented as she grabbed her jacket off the back of the chair, "she worries when her students are absent."

Korra nodded to Iroh before seeing herself out of the room. A moment later, the front door opened and closed.

Zuko sat in silence, staring at the orange bottle of pills as Iroh sat across from him. The rain had all but stopped, and he couldn't help but wish for the sound to break through the suffocating quiet.

"I'm sorry," he said at last, refusing to look at his uncle. He couldn't take the silence anymore. "I shouldn't have left, I shouldn't have-" he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

Iroh was quiet for a moment, and Zuko kept staring at the bottle. His name was written on the side, along with the word Zoloft and the amount 50mg.

"Did Ozai-" Iroh began. Zuko's head snapped up at the mention of his father's name. "Did he hurt you?" he asked hesitantly.

He didn't reply. He couldn't. What was there to say? Yes, but not without reason, not unless he was provoked, not unless he had too, unless Zuko fucked up, unless -

"Zuko did he hit you?" Iroh asked again, his voice was pleading.

He looked away and shook his head, but didn't say anything.

"Zuko-" he urged.

"No," he answered, shaking his head. "No he didn't."

Iroh didn't look convinced. "You know you can talk to me," he said.

Zuko shrugged before finally snapping. His tea was mostly cold, but it didn't matter. Quickly, he grabbed the bottle, opened it, and washed a pill down with tea.

Iroh looked caught off guard as Zuko put the bottle back on the table.

"I'm going to bed," he announced before rushing up the stairs to the safety of the bedroom. He had barely pulled the blankets over his frame when the exhaustion of the day caught up with him, and unconsciousness took over.