Episode 25: What Makes a Monster

They gave him a room. It had an entryway for entertaining with a fireplace as tall as he was, logs burning with a comforting heat. Double doors led to the private chambers.

Everything was large, expensive, and covered in gold.

A desk of rich mahogany sat in the corner. It had golden phoenix bookends and some stacked classics. No textbooks. No scattered notes. No laptop scrolling through goofy images.

Only one bed. It had been almost a decade since he'd had a room to himself. There was a noticeable absence of laundry at the foot of the king-sized four poster. It had a rich, red comforter and a dark canopy to match.

This thing is massive! We could totally make a fort.

Zuko shook his head to get Sokka's assured reaction out of it.

The bathroom was lavish with a stand-alone tub and a rain-falling shower. The sinks were white marble, the mirrors gilded in even more gold. Avoiding the mirrors, he looked around only to find the far wall was a solid window overlooking the courtyard with a clear view of the lake he'd grown up with. Heat crept up his left cheek and he traced the edge of his scar with his fingertips.

You're not a monster, Zuko.

Hissing out a breath, he fled the room.

Unlike he'd previously thought, he wouldn't have to buy any more suits. His closet was full of them. A closet his last bedroom could fit in. They looked as expensive as everything else and tailored to boot. Most likely courtesy of Azula. Zuko couldn't imagine his father taking the time to order his own clothes let alone his estranged son's new wardrobe.

People stopped when he passed, moving out of his way so that his journey would be uninhibited. He couldn't go five minutes without someone asking him if he needed anything.

There was a young girl named Meng who was always two steps behind him spitting out his schedule, the names of the council members he came across, and even soft directions when he made a wrong turn. She was sweet, but Zuko found himself asking her to get him a mango smoothie just so he could escape to get a moment to himself.

Fruit is food!

His head hurt. His chest ached. There wasn't enough air.

Walking with obvious agitation, he found a balcony overlooking the courtyard and closed the door behind him.

The fresh air helped, but only slightly. Shadows of Sokka followed him through the halls. Whispers of her bled through his thoughts at every turn. He avoided her name even in his own mind. He wanted it to be for a righteous reason like guilt, but it was really self-preservation.

He just needed to think. There was no going back. Talk about burning bridges…literally and figuratively. Azula had been a little too wound up on the way home. Of course, his father had been over the moon:

"I am proud of you, Prince Zuko." Ozai placed a strong hand on his shoulder. "I am proud because you and your sister secured the South Bend. I am proud because when your loyalty was tested you did the right thing and returned to the family. And I am proudest of all of your most legendary accomplishment: you destroyed the avatar initiative."

Zuko slid down the door to sit on the floor. It was all good news for the industry: they could take control of the mainland warehouses, thousands more hands at their disposal, the island would be theirs for the taking.

So…what next?

Was this what his life was going to be from now on? Meetings, wandering the hallways like a prince returned to the palace?

He needed to get away. But where would he go? He couldn't go home. On Ji's was out of the question, he was already on thin ice with her after what happened with Aang. Couldn't go to the gym…

Not only was he doomed to never speak to his friends again, pretty much everywhere on the island had suddenly become off limits.

Well, if this was to be his home now, he might as well explore. Standing up, Zuko looked around to see if anyone was watching before vaulting over the balcony bannister to land on the soft grass of the inner courtyard. He made his way over to the lake in the center and sat beneath the willow tree.

His grandfather had built this courtyard for his grandmother when he'd added the living quarters to the existing offices as a haven from the buisiness life. When they'd been younger, he'd played a game called 'enchanted forest' with Azula and her friends where they would take turns stealing items from each other and hiding them somewhere in the clearing. They would be on teams playing a type of capture the flag where anything goes. Until Azula had started grouping him with Mai every time on purpose. Once she'd even tricked them into falling into the lake together. Zuko had been so flustered he'd stormed off, dripping on the hardwood floors, and refused to play with them ever again.

A small collection of turtleducks swam towards him. Those were new. Or at least, he didn't remember them living there before.

"Hello," he said to them. "You guys are pretty cute. Come here often?"

One of the smaller ones stared at him.

"You got me." He held up his hands. "I'm new here. Any advice for the son of the CEO?"

The duck quacked at him.

"Mm. Wise words." Zuko watched the small family swim around a bit more. "At least you guys don't hate me." He scooted closer to the edge of the lake and twirled a finger in the cool water. "I just…miss them, y'know?"

Two of the baby ducks started crawling over one another, taking turns pushing each other down underwater.

"I mean, I know I did this for her," he said, "but that doesn't make it any easier to say goodbye."

The momma duck quacked at the young ones and they immediately stopped their playing to follow after her.

"Sir?"

Zuko turned to see Meng standing a couple feet away holding what he could only assume was a mango smoothie.

"Were you…" she looked between him and the lake. "Talking to those ducks?"

"No," Zuko snapped. Regaining his composure, he averted his eyes and scooted back from the lakeside. He spoke quietly when he said, "They're good listeners."

Meng smiled. "I'm sure they are." Stepping forward, she passed him his mango smoothie and he took a quick sip.

"I have some briefings for you to peruse before the next meeting in about an hour." She held out a portfolio. "If you'd like to view them out here, I would completely understand."

Wiping his wet hand against his trousers, Zuko took the folder. "Thank you, Meng."

She smiled gently at him. "Just so you know," she said, "you're the most polite advisor I've ever served."

"Yeah?" Zuko prompted, opening it up and settling back against the tree. "Is that a good thing?"

"I think so," she replied. "The staff…they talk, right? And…I think they would be happy to learn that the next leader of the industry isn't exactly like what we've been working with so far."

Raising his eyebrows, Zuko looked up from the report she'd brought him. "Is that so?"

"I don't mean to speak out of turn." She bowed. "But if you ever need anything, sir, please don't hesitate to ask."

As she walked away, Zuko thought about what she'd said. Perhaps the new plan could be the old plan. Use his education to make a difference. Just…with a different team than he'd been hoping for.

Shaking his head, he attempted to read some more of the report. As painful as it was, he wouldn't take it back. Even as their looks of hatred and betrayal had cut him to his very core, he knew he'd rather them live to hate him than whatever Azula had planned.

He wanted to be angry at his sister. Maybe blame his dad. Maybe his mom. Anyone who wasn't him. If he could convince himself that he'd been made into this, perhaps some of the guilt would fade.

(He guessed it was a family tradition: self-sabotage by hurting everyone closest to you in the most acute torture available.)

Nobody can hurt you quite like those who are closest to you.

Katara called in sick to work. What were the kids calling them? She took a mental health day. And spirits, did she need it. Sokka hadn't wanted her to leave his sight, which is how she found herself huddled in one of his old college sweatshirts in a ball underneath the covers in his bed. The men had been gentlemen, offering her the bedroom.

The issue? She had a clear view of Zuko's side of the room.

The impeccably made bed, the textbooks stacked on the desk most likely in the same condition they'd been bought in. His band posters from the last two concerts he'd gone to with Sokka plastered on the wall.

She heard whispering outside. A lower voice, possibly Sokka's, and a higher voice. Maybe Suki?

"She's in here," Sokka finished as the door creaked open. Suki's face popped out on the other side. Her eyes softened and Katara fought the urge to frown. She didn't want pity.

"Heyyy, sweetheart."

She knew she must look bad. Everyone had been calling her varying degrees of 'sweetie' and 'sweetheart' whenever they spoke to her. Grumbling some choice words, Katara wiggled down and covered her head with the blanket.

"Come on." Suki tugged on the covers. "We need to get you out of here."

"No."

"Katara, it's been a day. You need to eat something."

"No."

"Your dad made your favorite."

Mumble mumble.

"Blueberry pancakes and peanut butter?"

It was her favorite, and her dad made them best, but she simply wasn't hungry. Her stomach had been in a knot for the past twenty-four hours and the very thought of eating anything made her feel sick.

After a couple moments of silence, Katara heard Suki sigh and turn to leave the room. It was a couple minutes until another person entered the room.

"Sugarplum?"

Katara shrank farther under the covers. There was a dip on the side of the bed letting her know her father had chosen to take a seat. "Talk to me."

What was there to talk about? How his adopted son had stolen her heart only to rip it to shreds? She didn't need to talk. She needed answers. Answers that they didn't have.

Why would Zuko have changed his mind so suddenly? Why would he have aligned himself with Azula, the sister he had professed to hate, and left them with nothing? It wasn't like he wanted to be the leader that badly. Even if he had, Iroh would have taken him into the company under his own wing and raised him as the kind of leader they had all seen him growing into.

Although, Katara wasn't sure she could say she knew him that well anymore. She'd been blindsided. They all had. Had they ever really known him, or was this who he had been all along? Had he been playing her for the fool she was? Had she fallen for his charms and tricks? What had been true?

Could it be that it had all been a lie?

"Oh, Katara."

A hand stroked down her back from the other side of the covers and she realized she was crying against the mattress.

"Just leave me alone, please?" she choked out. He stayed to stroke her back a couple more times before leaving.

She cried for several minutes, the tears soaking Sokka's sheets until a third presence made itself apparent.

"That's it!"

The blanket was torn off of her, sending her hair every direction in static disarray. The cold air hit her bare legs and she flinched further into herself. Someone grabbed her ankle and unceremoniously dragged her off the bed to fall flat on her butt.

"Stop it."

Glaring up, Katara was faced with a serious Sokka looking down on her with his hands on his hips.

"You're better than this," he said. "As much as I love the guy, he's not worth you throwing your days away over. There are three people who love you waiting outside that door ready to eat blueberry peanut butter pancakes and you are going to come out and be a civil person whether you want to or not."

"Sokka, I-"

"No," he stopped her. "I will not allow you to wither away over some stupid boy thing. You're stronger than that. Now. Pick yourself up, put on some real clothes, and get out there. If I don't see you at that table with a mouthful of blueberries in the next five minutes I'm coming back with a water gun. Don't test me."

Saying what he'd had to say, Sokka stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Katara remained sitting on the floor staring at the jean jacket that had fallen from the hook when it had been closed. Sokka was right. She was the one who made fun of girls who pulled stuff like this, but that didn't stop it from hurting so badly.

Picking herself up, Katara dragged herself over to her brother's dresser and pulled out a large sweater before pulling her jeans on. Taking a look in the mirror, she quickly fixed her hair, and then exited without looking at the tidy side of the room.

Zuko made the car drop him off a block away from the apartment, walking the rest of the way to his own front door.

Passing the entrance to the Jasmine Dragon he was surprised to find it empty. Upon further inspection he found a sign in the doorway with a kind of white flower on it and a note saying 'closed until further notice'.

Deciding that using his keys would be a bad idea, he knocked. To his relief, Sokka opened it but neither of them moved.

They simply stood there, staring at one another in silence, waiting for the other to start.

Zuko sighed. "Hey."

"'Hey'," Sokka quoted. "That's all you got?"

"Pretty much."

More silence.

Sokka's turn. "You shouldn't be here."

"Yeah, I know."

"So why are you here?"

Because I'm afraid, Zuko thought. "I came to warn you."

Leaning against the doorway, Sokka crossed his arms. "That my roommate is a backstabbing liar? A little late."

Ok, he maybe deserved that.

"I need you to listen to me for just a moment, and then you never have to see me again."

"Why should I listen to you?" Sokka asked.

Zuko fought the urge to wince. He had to play the perfect part. "I want the power I was promised, that doesn't mean I want you hurt."

Sokka's look of disbelief didn't fill him with confidence in his performance.

"Your actions speak differently," Sokka said.

"Believe me," Zuko muttered. "This was the best alternative."

"Alternative to what?" Sokka asked, then shook his head. "That's always been your problem, Zuko. You think you're so ready to ask for help but when it really comes down to it you think you're the only one who can actually make any difference. It's not true. We could have helped. If you'd just…let go of this pride you've been holding on to, if you'd let us in."

"That wasn't an option."

Sokka's eyes narrowed. "Everyone has a choice. My mother literally died trying to keep that scroll out of your father's hands. That was her choice."

Zuko's mouth went dry. He'd forgotten. He'd been so focused on saving them. Surely Kya would understand what he was trying to do…wouldn't she?

"Spirits, Zuko." Sokka rubbed his forehead in agitation. "I feel like I don't know you anymore Mr. 'I wanted the power I was promised'. And you're acting like you don't know us. This whole time we knew where you came from and we still tried to help you. We found out you were the Blue Spirit, did we leave you then? You didn't talk to me when we found the avatar initiative. I assumed you were talking with Katara, but you didn't did you?"

The mention of his sister had Zuko's throat tightening.

Closing his eyes, Sokka took a deep breath before continuing. "You're not used to having people who love you, I understand that. And if it were just me, I'd say we could try to work it out, but I warned you. I warned you about messing with Katara and what it would do to her. She's-"

"Stop." Zuko couldn't take it. Not that. Not her.

Sokka narrowed his eyes at him. "So that's it, then. You're running away."

"Actually...I need you to run away."

Confusion crinkled Sokka's features. "What?"

"My father," Zuko said, "he knows about your family's involvement with the avatar initiative. Even though he's won, he doesn't like loose ends. Once the deadline is passed and he gains control of the Sun Warrior sector he won't stop until he find you, and we both know what he's capable of."

Sokka's eyes searched his, calculating. Being such a goofy guy, Zuko sometimes forgot how smart he was. Then again, Sokka might just be trying to decide if he was wearing his lying face or not.

"You need to leave," Zuko insisted, "all of you."

His old roommate remained still. Then he said, "Katara...she's not leaving."

"That's not acceptable, Sokka. She's precisely the one in the most danger! If my dad finds out she's also the Painted Lady-" Zuko couldn't finish that sentence. Didn't want to even entertain the idea of his father getting his hands on Katara again.

"I'm just a man! You've met her, she won't listen to anyone."

"Tie her up and drag her away if you need to. Just get her out of here. She can't be in the city when the industry enters the lower South side. You know how she'll react and you have no idea what they'll do to her."

Sokka paled. "What will they do to her?"

Zuko huffed, running a hand though his hair in agitation. It probably looked a mess at this point but he didn't care.

There were a lot of things he used to care about that didn't seem to matter anymore.

That didn't mean he had any answers. "So…what?" He took a deep breath in. "What do we do?"

"We?" Sokka demanded. "You think she's going to listen to you after what happened? You're lucky we have three years of history or you wouldn't have gotten two words in before I threw you out on your ass. Imagine what Katara could do to you."

"I'd rather not," Zuko muttered.

"Look man, I'll do what I can but I've got to ask…are you really okay with everything that's going on Everything your father has planned? Surely you realize that this is all crazy, right?

Zuko shook his head. "Honestly? I don't know. I'm getting mixed messages about what's personal and what's business."

"What about all the people being hurt?"

"They've stopped the raids. They're only after your family now."

"That doesn't mean it didn't happen!"

"What do you want from me, Sokka? We don't get to choose our families. You got lucky. If I leave, nothing is going to change! You know that. You knew what this was."

Sokka frowned. "You have to talk to Katara."

"Can't you just-"

"No. It has to be you. You need to explain to her."

"What if…" Zuko's hands motioned helplessly between them. "What if I'm not sure what there is to explain?"

"Then you better figure it out. As for me, I hope she sets you straight." Sokka's eyes were cold as ice. "Because I can tell you right now, 'I wanted power' is not going to cut it with her."

Katara had been able to make it into work twice but she'd opted out of class Tuesday morning. She'd explained to her professor that she hadn't been feeling well and Dr. Pakku had graciously emailed her a synopsis of the study schedule so that she could finish preparing for the exam in a week. Katara wasn't worried. Most of the curriculum was familiar and her notes over the year were extensive as she'd been writing for two.

She'd had to leave Sokka's apartment. Her father and brother's attention had proven to be overbearing to the point that Katara felt she might suffocate from the constant check-ins. Suki had been more than accommodating, allowing her to stay on the couch for as long as she needed. Toph had been conspicuously absent for the past week. Nobody had seen or heard from her but, from what Katara knew about the girl, she was most likely avoiding the emotionally-charged situation.

As it was a Saturday and the sun was shining down on a beautiful day, Katara had decided a walk might be just what she needed to clear her head. But when she opened the door to Suki's apartment, she was met with an unexpected sight.

Sitting on a concrete ledge just outside the door was Zuko. His suit reminded her of that time she'd seen him after his dinner with his sister. Over his shoulder was his classic, worn Phoenix Industries bag that she had despised since the beginning. Other than his expensive clothing he looked disheveled. His hair was a mess, he had dark circles under his eyes, and his posture was slumped as if in defeat.

They stared at one another for a couple seconds until she gathered enough of her wits to turn away from him and close the door. "You look terrible."

"I waited out here all night."

When she faced him again he was standing.

"What do you want, Zuko?"

"You're supposed to be leaving town."

Her eyes narrowed. "I don't see how that's any of your concern."

"Please, Katara."

She hated her body's reaction to him saying her name. Her fists clenched at her sides.

"No. You don't get to ask anything from me."

It didn't feel like the real Zuko when he responded. His voice was too taut, almost sneering. The tone reminded Katara more of his sister than anyone else. "Don't you see what's happening? You haven't changed anything. Did you think you'd divert a couple of ships and everyone would be happy again? You can't stop what's coming, you can't fix anything, so please…" His hands fell to his sides in defeat. "…just go."

Her blood heated, her face fuming as she took a heavy breath. "No."

Zuko's eyes widened.

"I refuse to leave the people here to fend for themselves. You know that they can't just as well as I do, and I will never, ever turn my back on people who need me."

Zuko seemed taken aback for a moment before he shook his head and the haughty composure was back.

"Needed?" he jeered. "That's what you really want, isn't it, Katara?"

Her anger evaporated giving way to a cold emptiness, the blood draining rapidly from her face.

"Needed by patients to heal them. Needed by the helpless business major who signed up for the wrong class. Needed by the poor, oppressed people of this city to save them from the big bad company." His voice quieted. "Needed by your family when they didn't have a mother to care for them."

She slapped him.

Tears cascaded in silent streams down her face. "I was wrong," her whisper broke, "you are a monster."

His face was grave, his normally light eyes dark and unyielding. "Then leave."

"I told you, I'm not leaving. I'm not giving up on these people."

"What people are you talking about?" he demanded. "There's hardly anyone left!"

"I'm not giving up!" she yelled again. "As long as there is even one person here who needs me, I will stand and I will fight."

"You're throwing your own life away?" Zuko asked.

"Unlike you-" she poked him in the chest and he stepped back- "I don't believe my life's worth to be dependent upon my own personal success."

"Personal suc-?" Zuko sputtered. "I'm trying to help you!"

"Well, you're not!" Katara shouted. I'm her anger, her arms had flailed around her body causing a nearby vase-amount of water to fly in Zuko's direction. His body was thrown back by the force of it and he landed in a puddle on the ground.

Katara recovered enough to say, "So you'd better just go, and if I ever see you again…well, I'd better not see you again."

Defeated and dripping wet, Zuko slowly got up, straightened his suit jacket, gave her one last look, and walked away.

Zuko rode back to the keep in a stupor. The pad of his thumb slowly stroked over the polished blue marble of Katara's necklace clutched in his hand. He'd meant to give it back to her, but there hadn't been the right moment.

How had this happened? How had the person he'd cared about the most become his enemy? Breathing a sigh, Zuko pinched his nose and rubbed his eyes. His hand settled against the side of his face.

She'd slapped him.

Rightfully. The words had slipped out. All he could think about was saying whatever was necessary to get her to leave the city. He hadn't realized he was willing to cross that line until it was too late.

Sokka was right.

If he hadn't been a monster before, he certainly was now.