A/N: Ok, so, I tried to advance the story a bit, but you know, I'm not sure I did..LoL! Either way, enjoy! I'm really going to try and keep this updated from now on, I'm starting to get into it again, so keep an eye out for them!
BTW, thanks to everyone who read/favorited/followed/reviewed! You guys are great!
Disclaimer, I own nothing but the idea and the way I put the words together; such a shame.
Despite his impassioned resolve, Zuko's recovery remained slow, almost achingly so. At first, at the suggestion of uncle, he only tried standing twice a day; once in the morning, and once in the evening. After awhile he advanced to moving himself slowly back and forth inside the shelter. Outside of that, uncle had created a workout regime for him that he could do laying or sitting. He was badly in need of muscle strengthening, and that did not require standing. Some days, uncle would assist him by providing him with resistance training to speed up the muscle re-growth. He had hunted around the forest for a couple of large rocks to give Zuko to use in more basic strength training. Iroh knew Zuko was going to have to rely on his hands, arms and upper body strength much more now than he ever had before; therefore he was convinced it was imperative that Zuko's upper body be as strong as possible.
There were times when Zuko wanted to give up. Some days it was hard for him just to force himself to move, much less do his strengthening exercises. Occasionally it would all become too much, and he would begin to sink into despair. Uncle never chided him, he simply took care of him as always, and believed Zuko would move back onto the path of healing in due time; which he always did. That small flame inside his heart never ceased to dance and flicker; it might die down, or burn brighter, but it was always there. Sometimes just sensing it, and knowing it was there, made Zuko feel better somehow.
In this way two months passed by without either of them truly realizing it. The weather began to warm somewhat, much to Zuko's relief. Neither of them had very much in the way of clothing, the only articles of clothing they had came from what Iroh had been wearing at the time of the explosion. Tattered and threadbare, they threatened to fall apart every day it seemed, and the old general knew that if he didn't journey to a village soon, it would be difficult to do so, because he would have little left with which to cover up; he doubted people would look favorably upon a wild looking old man wearing little to nothing coming from the forest asking for clothes having no money with which to pay. He resolved to spend more time deciphering the dilemma of how to get them supplies; it would be time well spent.
Zuko awoke one morning feeling particularly refreshed. Today felt important somehow, like life was moving, the world was moving, and somehow things were happening. He tried to shake off the feeling, seeing as so far, it seemed relatively normal, but the stubborn feeling refused to shake. There was a queer sort of bubble in his stomach, he wasn't sure if it was anticipation or dread. It began to worry him and he frowned, glaring at the wall of the small shanty as if it were somehow responsible for his unrest.
"Uncle" Zuko called out. No response. He tried again. "Uncle!" He practically shouted. His frown deepened. Uncle wasn't there. Of course, that was not unusual, as the old man had many chores to do and was often out in the forest hunting. As long as they had been there the game was becoming a bit scarce nearby, and uncle was forced to range much further than before to find meat. Still, with this strange feeling weighing on him, he couldn't help but worry since uncle was usually back by this time of the morning.
Trying to force the simulation of a normal day, especially since he had no concrete evidence to suggest that it was otherwise, he proceeded to take care of his morning rituals. Once he had finished every bit of training and exercise he could do without uncle's help, worry began to gnaw at him once again. An hour had passed since he'd completed his exercising and still uncle had not returned. That bubble in his stomach had turned into a leaden ball. He was quite sure it was dread now, and with it, a healthy dose of fear. He was nearly helpless without uncle, almost like a small child, unable to do anything but the most basic of things for himself. His mind began to wander. If something happened to uncle and he did not return, Zuko felt sure he would die out there in the forest, slowly and excruciatingly. Most likely, being unable to feed himself, he would eventually become so weak he could no longer move and would simply starve to death; at least, that's assuming he didn't dehydrate first. His thoughts continued in the downward spiral they had taken and the more he thought about it, the more afraid he became. Zuko began shaking and held himself with his arms wound around his stomach tightly, as if he could protect himself by sheer strength. Never in his life had he felt more helpless and afraid. Even right after his accident uncle had been there, now, there was no one. He was going to die, out here, in the forest, alone. He shuddered.
It was awhile before his sobs had finally subsided, and weary in mind and body; he slipped into a fitful sleep. The shadows had begun to lengthen when Zuko finally awakened once again. He felt as if someone had run over him with a cart full of cabbages. As he blinked the sleep out of his eyes he realized the time of day, and remembered the reason for his sleep. The lead ball of dread in his stomach instantly gained about a hundred pounds it seemed, and he looked around, hoping against hope that uncle might be here, might have come back while he slept. "Uncle!" He called out. There was no response. He was truly alone. He shivered again and once again wrapped his arms around himself. What had happened to uncle? Why wasn't he back by now? What was he going to do if uncle didn't return? He felt the walls of despair closing in on him again and he fought it. He knew better, he really did. He remembered the voice, the beautiful voice that had saved him and given him a choice. It had been some time since he had thought of that voice, and somehow, the thought calmed him. He wondered if the voice was somehow a type of forest spirit (if such a thing could exist), and if perhaps uncle might receive help as well? He sighed at the thought; it was highly unlikely that it was anything more than an overactive imagination due to a near death experience. Zuko chided himself for allowing his mind to wander and turned it instead to the here and now. He was not the type to wallow, at least, not for long. It was time to keep moving, he could not give up. He had to believe uncle would come back; he had no other course of action. In the mean time, he needed to do what he could before darkness fell and he could no longer see. Somehow he needed to find food.
Zuko had yet to actually walk further than back and forth inside the small shelter. He was unsure as to whether or not he could even move safely outside, and if he could, how quickly would he tire? His thoughts spun like a tornado in his mind as he reached for his crutches and carefully hoisted himself in a standing position. It had taken a long time for him to get even that far, and he felt proud in his progress. He just wished he'd had more time. Controlling his movements carefully he slowly began to walk, making sure to keep his progress steady and unhurried; he couldn't afford to lose his concentration, or his balance. When his crutches, and slow, halting progress brought him outside the door of the shanty that had been home to him for over three months, he paused, steadying himself. He felt a kind of freedom, as worried as he was; it seemed almost symbolic, as if he has crossed the threshold of his future somehow. In that moment he came to the realization that he had been depending on his uncle too much. Yes, he was crippled, a fact he hated but couldn't change. However, that didn't mean he should rely on his uncle for everything, as he had been doing. In a mortifying thought, he realized he was even still using the cylindrical "pee tube" as he'd dubbed it. It wasn't necessary. The thought made him blink in surprise. He didn't need it. He could easily use one crutch and a tree to lean on to do that, he didn't need the hollow cylinder. He nearly blushed; as for the other bodily function, well, his thoughts rather hitched and he was unable to complete them. Due to his loss of a limb and partial foot loss he thought he truly was unable to complete that bodily function without assistance since there was no bathroom out here in the forest. No matter how embarrassing it was, though he'd grown moderately accustomed to having uncle's help, it was still humiliating to be unable to 'go' on his own. He shook his head slowly as if to clear away the thoughts that buzzed inside. This was getting him nowhere. He needed to find something he could eat somehow. At this point he felt like he was starving, having not eaten anything all day. It was early evening now and soon it would be too dark to look. It occurred to him to wonder how he would gather what he might find should he happen upon anything edible; since, although he had practiced walking on his crutches he had not practiced going down onto the floor and getting himself back up using them. He wished he'd had the foresight to practice that.
Zuko managed to make it a couple hundred yards from the shelter before the strain began to wear heavily on him and he was forced to lean against a tree in order to keep his balance. He'd been working hard the past couple of months, but apparently, it hadn't been hard enough, he thought, frustrated. The sun was completely hidden to him now and the forest had darkened considerably. He began to feel nervous; he'd never been this far away from the shelter, what if he lost his way in the dark? It wasn't worth it to try and find something he had yet to even see a hint of. He rested a few more minutes and then turned and made his slow journey back to the shelter, retracing his steps as carefully as he could.
He arrived at the small shanty just as the forest was truly becoming nearly too dark to see safely in. He was almost gasping for breath and every part of him ached. He hadn't worked his body this much since the accident, and he was proud of himself for making it so far, yet so very exhausted. As he hobbled into the shelter he happened to notice something on a small shelf on the opposite side from where he usually spent his time. He moved slowly over to where it was and realized that he'd completely forgotten uncle had told him of the jerky he'd placed there in case Zuko ever got hungry while uncle was out hunting. If he would have had a free hand he would have slapped his forehead in a gesture of self-disgust. How could he have forgotten the jerky? He sighed. At least he wouldn't starve. Uncle, in his caring had also left a small bowl of water should Zuko become thirsty. It was, of course, nowhere near enough, but it would appear uncle had not intended on being gone so long. Thankful beyond words Zuko carefully leaned against the wall and grabbed the bowl, eagerly gulping about half the contents before he forced himself to stop and place it back on the shelf. Then he grabbed a couple pieces of the small jerky and held them in his lips as he hobbled back to his bed to consume them. He nearly collapsed on the bed as he released the pressure of standing from his body. He hurt everywhere. If he hadn't been so very hungry he'd already be half asleep. Zuko chewed the jerky slowly, hoping to make it seem like it was lasting longer; all the while worrying again about his uncle.
The next day found him again ravenous. He had finished the rest of the water that morning with a couple more pieces of jerky that did nothing for the hunger that was gnawing on the insides of his belly. He knew he had to do something, so once again he set out to try and forage something that might be edible. Paying close attention to his surroundings, he slowly and carefully searched every inch of the area around the shelter in a about a 50 yard radius. He knew he couldn't afford to get lost, or to be caught too far away from a place to sit down were he to become exhausted. Getting up from the ground would be far more difficult than from a sitting position, and since he hadn't practiced that, he couldn't risk the possibility. Right then and there he decided that one of the first things he was going to do when uncle came back would be to have the man help him learn how to safely and quickly get off the ground using his crutches. He signed. "Uncle!" He cried out suddenly in a moment of weakness. "Uncle where are you? I need you…" his voice died down to a whisper as he spoke the last words. He did need his uncle, without him, he would surely die. He was lying to himself if he truly believed he could forage enough to keep himself alive. A thought hit him; could he find the stream uncle used? If he could find that, he might have a chance of lasting a bit longer. A new determination coursed through him and he moved carefully back to the shelter to grab a small, sharp rock uncle had used on occasion for different things. After resting in the shelter for a little while he resolutely hauled himself up and took off in the direction he believed he'd seen his uncle take when heading to get water.
He cursed his need for crutches as they limited his ability carry things, and he was unable to carry even the small, rough, wooden bowl in case he did indeed find the water. He glowered at a tree up ahead of him, as if somehow, the tree was to blame for his misfortunes. The tree just stood there proudly, as if mocking him with its stoical trunk and unmoving branches. He turned away and shook his head. Now he was imagining trees doing strange things. He was beginning to go crazy and uncle had only been gone a day. What he wouldn't give to hear the old man's quirky voice complaining about missing his tea. Shaking his head as if trying to clear the thoughts from his mind, he moved ahead, using the sharp rock he'd taken from camp to score a mark on the very tree he'd been glaring at in a juvenile burst of anger. He didn't mark the tree without reason; it was his hope that scoring them with the rock would be a good enough trail to follow to help him find his way back.
He was forced to take frequent rests, and it was midday before he realized it. Zuko was thirsty and hungry, and he had forgotten to bring a piece of jerky to eat. He was so very hungry he felt like he could have eaten an elephant and not have been satisfied. He trudged on; his slow, halting pace making what might have been a much quicker walk seem long in comparison. So caught up in his journey was he, that he missed the soft sounds of a flowing stream in the distance. He stopped for another much-needed rest and suddenly his ears caught the sound of that stream. "I made it!" He shouted exultantly. "I found the stream!" Invigorated with renewed strength he pressed on, and was soon standing at the bank of a medium sized stream with clear water that babbled over stones and down miniature waterfalls as it wound through the forest. His joy turned to dismay when he realized that the water was nearly as far away from him right now as it had been when he was at the shelter. He had yet to learn how to get down to and up from the ground with his disability using the crutches. If he was to obtain a drink of water, which, at this point, was very necessary, he was going to have to figure it out the hard way and hope for the best.
Zuko looked around for a tree with a limb that was low enough that he could grab a hold of from the ground. A short ways up the stream he found what he was looking for and braced himself as best he could, reaching out to give it an experimental tug. The limb held; he could use it. He breathed a sigh of relief and turned his attention to figuring out how he would get down onto the ground without falling or hitting himself in the head with a crutch. He thought for a few moments, and then allowed his left crutch to fall to the ground out of his way. He quickly grabbed the branch he'd chosen and balanced as much of his weight as possible on his foot; he slowly moved the other crutch out from under his shoulder and used it in more of a leverage capacity as he lowered himself to the ground. He was panting and sweating and rather plopped the last few inches onto the ground, his leg having given out on him. After the explosion his body still had yet to truly be fully recovered. He moaned in pain and stretched out flat on his back on the forest floor a few feet from the stream. Zuko didn't stay that way for long though, thirst was a hard taskmaster and he was its slave. He shoved himself into a sitting position and held his stump up out of the way as he used his leg and arms to scoot over to the stream on his backside, he rolled to the side and then over onto his stomach with his face over the water, bracing himself with one arm and using the other hand to bring mouthfuls of water to his parched lips that he eagerly sucked down. Once the initial urgency of his thirst was quenched he realized there was a slightly strange feeling when he reached his hand into the stream. It wasn't good or bad, painful or pleasurable; it was simply…strange. Different. It almost felt like the water was questioning him. He laughed aloud at the ridiculous notion and with a wild thought, rolled over again, right into the current of the stream. The cool water felt wonderful, and he had missed that feeling. "I must really be going nuts." He muttered aloud. "First I was angry at trees, now I'm imagining a stream is asking me questions. Oh yes, and I'm talking to myself. Wonderful. Uncle would laugh at me if he were here right now." Zuko rolled his eyes at no one and tried to shake off the strange feeling that was much stronger now that his body was in full contact with the water. It felt so good for the cool liquid to ripple over his body that he really didn't care too much how strange it felt, it was just a feeling after all.
The longer he lay in the water the better he felt, his exhaustion and soreness from the hike to find the stream was fading, and he found himself relaxing as he hadn't relaxed in a very long time. In fact, he was so relaxed he was beginning to doze off. A sharp sound snapped him awake instantly. His eyes went wide and his heart was suddenly beating triple-time. He scanned the area as best he could from his position in the water and was relieved to see nothing more than a small rabbit, looking for water, just as he had been. He froze, thinking that perhaps if he held still enough; the rabbit might actually come close enough for him to catch it. Then he realized that there was no way he would be able to cook the meat, he couldn't stomach the thought of raw meat; he wasn't that hungry yet. Zuko continued to lie still as the rabbit drank and washed its face with its paws, the small nose twitching in a way even he thought was a little bit cute. Suddenly he had an irresistible urge to sneeze. He tried desperately to hold it back without moving, but the sneeze would not be denied and exploded out of him without warning, raising him halfway out of the water, droplets flying everywhere. The poor rabbit jumped straight into the air, then, by the time Zuko had opened his eyes from the sneeze, he saw a white fluffy stump tail disappearing into the underbrush. He couldn't help it, he began to laugh; deep belly laughs that shook his body and stole his breath, tears of laughter squeezing out of his eyes and running down his cheeks as he guffawed.
When his stomach hurt and he just couldn't breathe anymore from all the laughing he quieted down, once again allowing himself to relax back into the soothing water. His thoughts turned to the hapless rabbit and he grinned again. Somewhere out there, there was a terrified rabbit telling other rabbits never to go to that part of the stream again, that there was a huge and horrendous stream monster, and if you weren't careful it would gobble you up! Zuko grinned again at his own foolishness; for the first time in his life he felt carefree and happy. He knew it was a fleeting feeling, uncle was missing and he was without food and without a way to carry water, but that could wait. Right now, Zuko was happy.
A/N: Happy Zuko, *gasp* it's the end of the world! Or not.. anyway, hope you enjoyed it, apologies that it's a little shorter than the last one but this seemed like a good place to end this one. How will he survive? Where is Iroh? All will be answered in time!