Zuko hated always apologies. Hated fucking up enough to need to give one. Hated the shame and embarrassment. But as he walked downstairs two hours later, he knew one was owed.
"I'm sorry," he said, standing in the living room awkwardly. Iroh looked up from the book he was reading, expression unreadable. "I was selfish. I acted out of anger," he blew air out of his lungs. "I shouldn't have. Especially not today."
Iroh put his book down. His face softened. "I should have told you. But I was... concerned, that you would think the only reason I took you in was to make up for that. Which is not true."
Zuko wanted to ask, question him about everything. The look in his eyes told him it was not the time.
"Is it too late for dinner?" he asked, hopeful.
"Aang invited me to his house this weekend," Zuko said as he helped clean dishes the next day. "Apparently everybody is getting together."
"Are you asking permission or making conversation?" Iroh asked. Zuko could hear the smile in his voice.
"Permission?" Part of him still wanted to flinch away, but after weeks of living with Iroh, he knew the man would never resort to violence.
Iroh 'hmm'ed as he put a plate away. "You have your driver's license?"
"Yes?" he answered confused. "Why?"
"I'm going to be busy at the shop. Considering its well within walking distance, why don't you borrow my car?" he said it so casually it took Zuko a moment to realize what he'd said. He we did, a plate almost slipped from his hands.
"Shit," he hissed as he caught it. "I uh... are you serious?"
Iroh finally turned to him. "Would I have offered if I was not?"
Zuko could feel himself going red. "It's just, I'm not sure anybody has ever trusted me enough for this."
He received a shrug in response. "You've been doing well lately. I haven't seen any reason to distrust you."
At one point, not even all that long ago, Zuko would have felt anger at that. Now he felt a small twidge of pride.
He dreams of hands. Music is blasting, although he can't actually hear it. The world is spinning in a way he's not sure is the drugs.
He's dizzy, but that isn't unusual. Neither is the arm wrapped around his waist. He isn't sure why it feels wrong.
People are dancing. He recognizes some, but most are faceless shadows, moving in an unpredictable rythme to the soundless beat. Everything is wrong.
They're reaching for him, grasping claws into him and pulling.
He's bleeding now. Laying on the floor. He's thirteen and everything aches. He wants his mom. She's long gone.
He isn't sure where he is. It's a bedroom, but it isn't his. Everything spins.
"Where am I?" he asks, barely conscious, in a voice too old to be his.
The shadows reach for him, even here, even now.
"Please," he whispers, "stop"
They do. He watches the shadows freeze, retreat back into the depths of darkness. He watches them, waits to see them move again. They do not.
Zuko isn't sure why he's so surprised.
He's at a party again. The jump doesn't seem unusual. He's still bleeding.
There's a guy he knows, twice his size, getting handsy with a girl too drunk to know up from down, or yes from no.
"Hey!" he shouts, tries to move. Tries to pull him off her. His legs don't work, and for the first time, he's scared.
He manages to move, pulls the man off her.
She falls to the ground, convulsing. He knows the look of an overdose when he sees one.
The world bends and shifts and he holds her, calling for help.
The faceless shadows watch him. They do not help. They never help. Too much of a risk to themselves. If they call an ambulance, the police may come.
Zuko wakes up, and tries to shake the memories from his head. The girl, Amber he thought her name was, had died. Only it wasn't him holding her and begging for help. No; he had been one of the faceless shadows, ignoring the situation rather than helping.
He glanced at his phone. It read 5:24am on a Saturday morning. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep again.
Iroh was in the kitchen when he went downstairs. The tea shop always opened early, six days a week, but had reduced hours since Zuko came. Iroh was finally ready to start opening at 7am again.
"Is everything okay?" Iroh asked when he took notice of his nephew.
Zuko nodded. "Yeah. I, uh, dreams. I couldn't fall back asleep."
Iroh nodded in understanding. "If you would like, you are more than welcome to join me at the shop. I can always use an extra pair of hands, and I'm sure you wouldn't mind some extra spending money."
It was true. He had almost no money to his name. "Sure."
It was 6:15am when they arrived at The Jasmine Dragon. Iroh set to work readying the teapots for the day, even if he wouldn't start brewing for another half hour. Zuko busied himself with taking chairs off tables.
Some time later, the smell of fresh pastries drifted through the building as the back door opened.
A smiling woman popped her head into the main room.
"Britney!" Iroh greeted and gladly took a tray of baked goods from her. "How are you?"
"Glad to see you back with regular hours," she said with a smile. "I have a couple more trays, I'll be right back."
Zuko looked at his uncle questioningly.
"I outsource the baked goods to a local bakery," Iroh explained. "I don't have the time, nor the desire, to do it myself."
Two trays later and the display case next to the cash register was full.
It was the first time Zuko had actually taken in the shop. The last time he was there, he wasn't feeling all that great. The Jasmine Dragon shared many similarities to the average coffee shop. It was however, not average, or a coffee shop. Instead, it sold specialty teas to customers who ordered To Stay more often than not.
6:45am and Iroh was teaching Zuko how to boil the water and keep it hot. Which teas were where, and how much to use.
By the time Iroh unlocked the doors, Zuko was completely positive he was hopelessly confused.
Surprisingly, customers starter pouring in soon after.
It was busy, but Zuko couldn't say he didn't enjoy it. He spend the morning wiping tables, washing mugs, and watching Iroh make tea. A lot of the regulars smiled at him, or asked how he was enjoying living there. His answers were always polite and short.
Time flew quickly and it was 12:30pm when Iroh reminded him he was supposed to meet at Aang's house in an hour and a half.
Zuko finished what he was doing and shared a smile with Iroh as he removed his apron and escaped through the back door. The weather was turning cold, and the first sprinkles of snow had already fallen. It wouldn't be long before the snow covered everything.
He drove back to the house. All he needed was a quick shower and clothes. He grabbed his long sleeve pajama shirt and stuffed it into a bag along with several other garments.
The drive to Aang's house was odd. Normally he'd be full of anxiety, but something about driving had always calmed him.
Everybody was already there when he arrived, but nobody seemed to mind his tardiness.
Sokka and Suki took up one couch, while Katara and Aang sat on the floor. Toph was in a large seat, her dog Badger at her feet. Sokka looked a little too invested in whatever video game they were playing on the TV.
"Sparky finally here?" she asked. The nickname, she had explained, reflected his personality.
Zuko wasn't sure whether to be offended or not. "Sorry," he told them. "I got caught up helping my uncle."
"It's no problem!" Aang said cheerfully as he motioned for Zuko to join them. "We're playing Mario Party."
Zuko nodded as he sat on the floor. Toph looked extremely bored.
"Fucker!" Sokka yelled, throwing his arms up. He would have dropped the Wii controller were it not strapped to his wrist.
"Language," a voice scolded from behind them. A woman Zuko vaguely recognized as Suki's mother.
"Sorry Kyoshi," Sokka replied sheepishly.
She turned to Suki. "Let me know when you want to be picked up. Call, don't text."
Suki nodded. "Will do, thanks mom." They hugged, and Zuko felt a pang in his heart. He wondered if anybody else felt the same.
"Do you want to play?" Aang asked when Kyoshi left, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over the group. He handed the controller to Zuko.
He stared at the controller, dumbfounded. "I don't know how to play," he said. Everybody looked to him.
"Never had a chance while in the circus?" Suki asked. There was amusement in her voice.
Zuko shrugged.
"I'll teach you!" Aang replied, seemingly unphased by Suki's comment.
He did manage to play in the end. It was a fun game, but he spent the entire time with anxiety creeping into him. It wasn't like he could tell them who he was, and where he come from. Not like he could admit he was there because his father didn't want a fuck up like him.
They swapped to Mario Kart eventually. Apparently the Wii was a good way to keep Gyasto's multiple children preoccupied.
"Where are your siblings?" Zuko asked after thinking about it.
"Kuruk is with his mom on the weekends, they're working to reunite them permanently. Hama is in her bedroom." He thought about it. "I honestly have no idea where Koh is, but I assume Gyasto does." he shrugged. "I know Appa and Momo are asleep on my bed, but they're not siblings."
"No offense Aang," Sokka said from his seat behind them. "But Koh is freaky."
"Tends to happen to abused kids," Aang replied, more deadpan than Zuko had ever heard. "Messes people up."
Zuko remembered what Korra had told him. It was easy to forget that Aang was a foster child, and that Gyasto specialized with troubled youth. He could feel the question forming on his lips before he could stop it. "Why do do you live with Gyasto?"
Aang seemed taken aback for a moment, but settled quickly. "I guess I never told you did I?" he still sounded chipper as always. "I forget, since everybody else knows."
"He was very open," Toph added. "My parents still haven't stopped praying for him."
Everybody laughed at that.
"My mom died when I was a baby," he said. "I don't know about my dad. But I grew up in foster care. It's easy to fall in with not great people. I joined a gang when I was what, nine? I was quick, could steal easily, and run if anybody noticed. Got arrested a few times, and instead of juvie, the judge sent me here!" He shrugged. "Worked out pretty well."
For the second time that night, Zuko was dumbfounded. And more than a little guilty. Aang had told him so openly. Maybe he could tell them-
"Hey what's that on your arm?" Aang asked innocently.
Zuko glanced down. The sleeve of his right arm, the one holding the controller, had slipped down, revealing white scars. They criss crossed along his wrist, and were covered by the deep gash Korra had helped with.
"Gardening," was his first reaction. "Fell into a rose bush. Scratched me up pretty badly." He tried to laugh it off, but it came out quick and awkward. He pulled at his sleeves, wishing he would just disappear. His anxiety was building into a full blown anxiety attack quicker than his rational mind would calm him. "I'll be right back." He knew he sounded anything but casual.
Fuck, how many times was he going to have an anxiety attack? Apparently a bunch.
Zuko found his way to the bathroom, ignoring the worried looks of the group. He gasped for air behind the closed door, and ran the water until it was cold as ice.
"Fuck," he held his hand beneath the running water. It felt cold at first, before it quickly started stinging, He kept it there for what must have being a couple minutes as the feeling slowly became more of a burning sensation, before finally going numb.
He breathing calmed down a bit by the time he was finished, and a wave of apathy and exhaustion took over. He couldn't go home, everybody would hate him if he left.
There was a knock on the door.
Zuko cursed under his breath and dried his hand on the towel nearby. "One minute!" he called.
"No rush," Toph replied from the other side of the door. "Just want to talk to you."
Well shit. His anxiety was back, along with the sinking feeling of nausea in his stomach. Fuck he was going to throw up.
She was waiting outside, he should just open the door and talk to her.
He dropped to his knees in front of the toilet, emptying his stomach into it. Which consisted of tea, a pastry, and stomach acid.
"I'll be right back," Toph told him through the door.
He heaved a few more times, shaking as he did. Fuck. The day was going so well too. He adjusted and leaned back until he met the wall. Tears were streaming down his face.
There was a knock again. "I have water."
He was silent.
"If you don't open the door I'll get Aang and Katara." It was the best threat she could give.
Zuko reached for the door, unlocking it. He let Toph slide it open. At least she couldn't see him crying.
She held out a glass of water for him to take.
It was cold against his hand, and soothed his throat as he drank it in small sips.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"Listen," she leaned against the door-frame. "Whatever's up, you don't need to share it with us. But Aang is worried and feels extremely guilty, which sucks. So either come up with a better excuse, let us in, or at least come back and play games with us."
She stoof, waiting expectantly.
"Okay" he told her. He pushed himself up off the floor. "Which game?"
Toph smiled. "Pulling out a board game so I can actually play it. Prepare to lose."
She wasn't wrong. He did lose, but then again, so did everybody. So he tried not to feel too badly.
To his credit, he did manage to make it through without another anxiety attack, even if it did seem like everybody else was walking on eggshells.
