A/N: This is in response to the wonderful people who reviewed, favorited, and followed this story, I really appreciate it, and to thank you, here is another chapter for your reading pleasure. ;) BTW, I apologize in advance for any typographical, grammatical or spelling errors, I'm my own beta.
Disclaimer, I own nothing but the idea and the way I put the words together.
Iroh missed his tea. He was pretty sure that missing tea could harm a body, and probably a soul too. He'd left a sleeping Zuko at the break of dawn in an attempt to catch something for breakfast. He'd learned to get quite creative since they'd taken shelter in the woods, and while he wasn't starving, he did miss the three square meals a day served aboard ship. Oh, and the tea. He had tried to brew tea using a few plants and some bark he'd scavenged in the forest. The results had been…less than satisfactory at best; at worst, he'd given himself a severe case of the runs, and, for about a day and a half, a rather annoying and painful rash that covered more of him than he'd wanted. The old general was a nature lover, and had always been at home in the forest, but for some reason this was turning out to be less on the relaxing side and more on the "get me out of here!" side; based purely on his survival experience since they came. He sighed and finally turned to go back to the hut; there were few small animals to be had now that it was later in the morning, and he was quite sure the boy would be awake.
He let his mind wander as he worked his way back, he wondered if Zuko had awakened, and if he had, what were his thoughts? How was he taking this? How would he react once he was more coherent? He had never met a stronger young man, he knew the boy could bounce back, but something kept bothering him, niggling at the back of his mind. Could he still bend? If Prince Zuko could no longer bend, his entire existence would change even more so than it had already. Iroh had no real reason to doubt whether or not Zuko retained his ability to bend, but it worried him, since, not only had the boy lost a limb, he had also lost some of his memory; though he had regained parts of it.
Bending depended on feeling and moving and flow and purpose. Right now, Zuko was unable to accomplish those things and Iroh feared how he would react to the realization of another loss. Whether or not it actually had happened, and if so, whether or not it was temporary, remained to be seen. Sighing again, he trudged on, carrying his spoils.
Zuko awoke to the cheerful voice of uncle humming a tune as he cleaned the (rather charred) hair and skin off a very unfortunate rabbit. If that rabbit had four lucky feet and still managed to end up breakfast, Zuko thought wryly, it was no wonder HE was always in trouble, he had no luck at all.
He pushed himself up into a sitting position with a groan of pain he was unable to stifle. Iroh was inside almost immediately. "Good morning Zuko!" came the cheerful greeting; "how was your sleep? Breakfast is almost ready."
Zuko quickly decided shrugging was out of the question and went with a simple, mumbled "'morning." That was when he realized something very important; he needed to pee. Suddenly it occurred to him to wonder what he'd been doing since he'd passed out. He decided to shelve that thought, especially when, now that he was thinking about it, he REALLY needed to pee. Iroh had turned to go back out to finish breakfast when Zuko opened his mouth again and then cleared his throat nervously. "Um…" he stammered, "I need…to use the restroom!" he finished all in a rush, then looked into the corner of the makeshift shack and tried to look nonchalant. He was pretty sure uncle looked amused for about a split second, but he wasn't sure.
"I don't see any bathrooms out here, but if you need to go, that can be arranged." Zuko raised an eyebrow, "how exactly?" he questioned. Uncle held up a finger as if to say "one moment" and popped outside the shelter, coming back in almost immediately with a long, cylindrical piece of wood that appeared to be charred, and hollow inside. "I made this just for you, while you're convalescing." He announced proudly, and handed the wooden container to Zuko. He turned and left the shelter, leaving behind a bemused boy staring at the wooden thing, blinking slowly.
"Hurry up Zuko, I'm hungry, aren't you hungry? Finish so we can eat!" Zuko nearly jumped and grimaced. He couldn't believe he had to use this thing…how was he going to even…go? He shook his head. Well, he did need to go pretty bad. It took a few tries, but after a couple minutes he was feeling much…emptier, and, while embarrassed, he felt better. "I'm finished uncle" he called, and Iroh came in right away, taking the offending container from him as he looked the other direction with an annoyed and embarrassed blush.
It was just a few more minutes and uncle brought a hand carved wooden plank that served as a plate, with several small chunks of rabbit meat and a few nuts he'd scavenged. A small, rough, hollowed out bowl held water to drink, and Zuko took them gratefully. He hadn't realized that he was actually quite hungry and thirsty.
The corners of Iroh's mouth quirked up into a small smile, it was a good sign that the boy was hungry. He settled down cross-legged on the floor to enjoy his own breakfast comfortably.
Soon, they were both finished, and Iroh took their dishes and washed everything in the nearby stream. When he returned, Zuko asked, "uncle..could you make a small fire in here somehow? It…gets a little cold." Iroh's heart sank. It was just as he had feared, either the boy was unable to remember bending; he was too damaged right then, or possibly any number of things, or combination of those things. The old general carefully schooled his face into a passive mask, "I'll see what I can do; maybe I can make a small fire pit on the floor for you." Zuko nodded, "thanks" he mumbled and looked away. Iroh did the same, he was having a hard time controlling his emotions during this time, his blame of himself knew no limits, and times like this it was hard to keep it together. He hurried out the door to go gather stones from the stream bottom, and to get his emotions under control again before he must again face his nephew.
He knew. Uncle had just run away from him. He couldn't stand to be in the same room with him for very long. He didn't blame him, he was hideous now, and a huge pain to deal with; he was sure of that. Zuko felt once again the terrible, gut-wrenching fear, tinged with disgust as he once again really looked at his broken body. He shuddered inwardly and briefly closed his eyes. He'd made the choice to live. He hadn't forgotten that lovely voice and the choice he'd made. He wasn't sure what his purpose was, but, whatever it was, he would find it, he was sure of that. It just might take awhile. He sighed and looked down at himself again. He looked for a long while. When this was all behind him, he decided, he would have a talk with uncle and truly thank him for being there for him, he had more to thank the man for than he could ever hope to truly express.
The days crept by, slowly turning into weeks, as if time had decided that tragedy must be savored slowly. Iroh and Zuko fell into a pattern; for Iroh, the days were busy enough, and consisted of mostly domestic type tasks, hunting and feeding and cleaning etc. For Zuko, who was still an invalid, the days drew out and blended together into one endlessly long , though now rather mundane, nightmare. Zuko's body was slowly beginning to heal what it could; the angry red welts and burns were now pinkish and far less painful than before, and the cuts were all but healed with only minimal scarring. His stump was beginning to heal as well, much the same as the burns, just slower. Thanks to Iroh's vigilant and careful care, not a single wound became infected, for which they both were grateful.
They had talked about Iroh journeying to the nearest town for much needed supplies (and tea, definitely tea), but, while Zuko agreed with seeming disinterest, Iroh caught the boy's eye for just a moment and saw real fear flash before he turned his head away. Feigning a careless mood he glibly put off the trip, pretending to be too lazy and tea-starved to venture out. Inwardly, he worried. They did need supplies; they couldn't live like this forever. Eventually, soon, he would have to go, and when he did Zuko would have to make do on his own, he just wasn't sure how yet. His brow knit in a small frown as he puzzled. It would take some thought.
His panic abated, he felt like he could breathe more easily. He was terrified to be left alone, unable to care for and protect himself. He sucked in a breath and held it, suddenly realizing something that had, until now, escaped him. He was fearful. He was dependant. He shouldn't be. That wasn't who he was; it would never be who he was. Something began to stir inside him, deep in his belly it felt like a small glow. What was he doing anyway? Wasting away here in the forest, it wasn't natural. Yes, he'd suffered a horrible tragedy, but life went on; and currently, it was going on without him. "I'm done being an invalid!" he thought stubbornly, "it's time to take my destiny, whatever that may be, back from whomever I've been letting steal it from me! They only took part of my body; it's up to me to make sure they don't take my spirit!" He nodded emphatically and glared at the walls of the shelter as if to dare it to tell him to do otherwise.
It was late today, but first thing tomorrow he would ask uncle to make him some crutches. His first course of action would be to get back on his feet..foot..his thoughts hitched a bit, but he brushed it aside; he needed to be standing and walking, however he could accomplish that. He was pretty sure that was the only way he'd make progress. He knew he was still missing something; memories, and whatever that special something was that made him bend fire. "I'll get it" he told himself, I WILL survive to conquer this, and I'll be stronger for it!" With that, he laid down again to rest, his mind whirling.
Tomorrow was a new day. It would be a good day, he was sure of it.
He awoke to; he was sure, the very same noisy and opinionated bird which had serenaded him so irritatingly on his first morning awake after his accident. This time, however, he wasn't quite so irritated at the cheerful bird's twittering; today was an important day, it was the day he started his new life. He sat up slowly and yawned, stretching gingerly. He still had a few twinges here and there from his worst injuries. It had been nearly a month since the explosion, and he was feeling so much better than he had, even just 2 weeks previous. He grabbed the cylinder that he was now accustomed to (though not pleased with) using and took care of his needs before setting it as far from himself as possible; he drank the small bowl of water uncle always left for him first thing in the morning and sighed contentedly, wondering what he would do today to start working on getting on with his life.
"Good morning Zuko!" Uncle bellowed as he popped through the door, "I have your breakfast right here, are you hungry yet?" Zuko nodded, "yes uncle, I believe I'm quite hungry this morning". Iroh smiled and handed him the plate, taking the cylinder with him as he left. "I've already eaten, so if you want more there is plenty!" Zuko nodded again, even though uncle was already outside and couldn't see him. His mouth was full, he preferred not to talk. He ended up finishing off the rest of the food, why let it go to waste?
He began to feel nervous once his belly was full and he had time to think. He was going to have to ask uncle for crutches, and that meant even more work for the poor man, and he knew how much of a burden he was already on him. His brow furrowed as he considered asking uncle for the wood to craft them himself. He had no experience in wood-carving, he might cut himself up instead, and that would not be helpful. Finally, he just decided to ask and have it done with. "Uncle…" he called out hesitantly.
Iroh, who happened to be returning from the stream, barely heard his call. He sped up and almost trotted the rest of the way back to the shelter and burst through the door. "Zuko?" he asked questioningly, "is something wrong?" The boy shook his head, "no no uncle, I'm sorry, I just…" Zuko hesitated and then took a breath that seemed to fortify him, and went on; "would, I mean, I would like to try to start walking!" he finished in a rush. "Maybe if I had some crutches…I could help make them" he added quickly, before Iroh could speak.
He had to struggle to keep his emotions in check. He had been hoping this day would come, praying for it. He knew Zuko would eventually decide to go on with his life, and he was so proud of him. Iroh blinked rapidly and willed himself to answer steadily. "Of course, Zuko; as a matter of fact" he smiled as best he could, "I've been working on a pair of crutches for you in my spare time. I figured you'd want them eventually and I wanted you to have them when you were ready." Zuko appeared surprised, but quickly overcame it with a heartfelt "thank you uncle". Iroh turned quickly to go out, "I'll be right back with them!" he called, and as he left the shelter a tear or two managed to squeeze from his wrinkled eyes; happy tears they were.
In no time at all he had retrieved the crutches he'd painstakingly carved and smoothed over the last near month. He'd made sure there was nary a splinter to be found, he'd even padded the armrests with some clothing pieces stuffed with dried forest moss. He had never considered himself a carver or carpenter, but with what little he had in the way of tools (a good knife), he decided he'd done quite, quite well for them. He smiled as he moved quickly to the shelter, eager to show his masterpieces to Zuko.
Uncle seemed to almost float back in the door of the shelter with, what looked like to Zuko, a couple of really nice, smooth, carved crutches. He was surprised and impressed, he had no idea his uncle was woodworking inclined. "Uncle, they're very nice, how did you manage to make them so smooth?" He asked as he was handed one for inspection. Iroh beamed. "Just a little elbow grease and some time" he answered, clearly pleased that Zuko seemed to like his handiwork. Zuko smiled back. He turned his attention back to the crutch in his hands and ran his fingers over the smooth surface. He looked at it as a whole, and then tried to keep from thinking about why he needed such a tool, and the darkness of despair began to close in on him again. The small smile had completely left his face, and in its place was the more familiar, haunted, pained look he had worn much of the time since the accident. Uncle gently plucked the offending item from his suddenly nerveless fingers and he looked up at him questioningly. Turning away, the old man leaned both crutches against the corner and once again turned back to face Zuko. His smile seemed strained and sad. "I know it is hard Zuko. I thought you might possibly react this way when presented with something more concrete such as crutches. It's just one more step towards accepting this terrible thing that has happened to you." Zuko took a deep breath, trying to chase away the darkness of despair, and thought uncle almost looked worried, and wondered what he might be planning to tell him.
"I can't pretend to understand what you're going through" he started, looking straight into Zuko's eyes. "I wish I could take it on myself, I would spare you this, if I had the ability." Suddenly his uncle looked old and tired, and the boy felt a small twinge of fear. He shook his head. "No uncle, I have a lot to thank you for, and I haven't done it. You have done more for me than any other person to ever exist in this world, even..." he hesitated, but forged on; "even my mother." He watched as uncle registered what he'd said. "Thank you uncle," he added quickly. "I couldn't ask for anyone better than you. You do not need to do more than you already have, I will be ok, because of you." He nodded emphatically. "I will be able to conquer this, because I know you'll be there to make sure I do." Uncle seemed to swallow a little convulsively and he thought he saw a little telltale moisture at the corners of his eyes. He cleared his throat, reaching over for the crutches and placing them against the wall next to Zuko's bed. "I know you will" he said, his voice husky with emotion.
Feeling a bit awkward at this display of emotion, Zuko sought to change the subject somehow. "So, how do I do this?' he questioned. Iroh cleared his throat again. "I can help you to the edge of the bed, then we can try to get you standing using the crutches." He scratched his chin. "It's been a month since you've stood up, so your muscles will not be in good shape. You will probably get dizzy, so we'll do this a few seconds at a time I think." Zuko was inclined to agree with him, he hoped he wouldn't pass out when he stood up.
Iroh placed his arms under Zuko's and positioned him sitting on the side of the bed. Zuko's remaining foot felt strange on the floor. It didn't quite hurt exactly without putting weight on it, but it simply felt strange. He pressed against the floor experimentally; the foot only hurt slightly near the stub, he should be able to at least stand on it for a few seconds. Uncle waited patiently, quietly watching with pride and empathetic pain, ready to help him to his feet and steady him when he stood.
Zuko grabbed a crutch in each hand and wedged them under his shoulders; he leaned forward and pushed with his foot and put pressure on the crutches, straining with all his might to even move himself off the bed. Unused muscles screaming, he managed to get his body off the bed and partially in a half-standing position before the momentum from his first shove, and his inability to really move due to unused muscles, sent him falling forwards. He knew a moment of pure, unadulterated panic as he fell. He'd never felt so helpless and terrified in all his life as in that one moment when he realized he was truly helpless and unable to keep himself from falling. Suddenly, right in front of him was uncle's belly, and he slightly "whumphed" as uncle caught him against himself. "I've got you" he comforted as he helped Zuko sit back down.
He was shaking with effort, and with remnants of his fear and helplessness. At the moment he didn't care, and he openly cried in front of his uncle. He was unable to stop the tears, they came from a place he seemed to have no control of whatsoever. Uncle sat down on the bed next to him and reached an arm around him and gently squeezed. "Oh Zuko, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I didn't steady you as you stood up, I should have held onto you so you would feel steady". He shook his head. "It's hard, it's going to be hard and it will get harder, but I know you can do it." He gently rubbed Zuko's arm as he hugged him. "You just let it out; release all that pain so you can start healing."
Once he was able to get a handle on his emotions Zuko quickly told his uncle; between hiccups and hitching breath from his earlier sobbing, that he was thankful he had been there to catch him, and he knew it would be hard, and that he wanted to try again. Uncle nodded and stood closer this time, right in front just to the side, where he could hold onto, and steady him, as he stood. Zuko positioned himself again and heaved upwards once more, determined to at least stand up and confident that uncle would help him. He saw uncle's hand reach for his arm to steady and help him gain his balance as he began to put weight on his foot instead of just pressing against the floor with it. While it had had about a month to heal it wasn't completely healed yet, and while pressure was one thing, his entire body weight was another thing altogether. The pain was intense, but he'd felt worse. He gritted his teeth and held on tight to the crutches, his knuckles white with the intensity of his grip. His muscles began to shake and he trembled with the effort of using ones long inactive. He knew he wasn't balancing, without uncle he would have been face down on the floor almost instantly. None of that mattered though, because, even though uncle was steadying him, his foot was screaming at him, and the pressure under his arms from the wooden crutches was highly uncomfortable, he was standing. For the first time since he'd nearly been blown apart, he was standing. After enjoying his moment of triumph he felt his body giving out, he'd about reached his limit. Zuko ground out between clenched teeth "uncle, help me down", panting and gasping with relief when he finally was again seated on the bed.
"In time you'll get better, your muscles will become accustomed to the use and it will be easier" uncle assured him, patting his arm gently. He laid the crutches against the wall and picked up the water bowl and offered Zuko some water. After he drank, Zuko asked uncle to help him lay down. He was very tired. Just that small bit of exertion had spoken to him more plainly than anything just how out of shape he truly was. "I'm going to have to really work hard to get into better shape." He was determined to see it through. "I WILL walk on my own again." He declared to himself with all the decisiveness he could muster. "I WILL!"
A/N: Whew… I hope it was satisfactory guys, and worth waiting all that time for..haha! If you like it, let me know. I love reviews even though I basically don't get any..lol. Reviews/feedback will possibly decide whether this story gets updated or not, so dooo iiit…! Thanks!