"Can you just…please Sokka?"
"You might be able to trust people easily Aang, but I don't."
"Funny," Katara crossed her arms and smiled. "Considering you trust Aang."
Sokka glared at his sister, chucking an extra bag into a vehicle. "Aang is…different. He saved our lives before. But Zuko and that old man? Nuh-uh. Don't trust them. We can do this ourselves."
.
"But Sokka, this underground bunker could be full of traps. And zombies. And loot. Zuko could help us."
"No way! Ever since he's got here he's been avoiding our questions. That's why I left Toph in charge to guard them."
"Look, I know all of us have gone through a lot. Maybe he doesn't want to talk about it."
"They're probably waiting for us to drop our guard. Remember Jet?"
.
Yes. It stings. Katar had dated him. Sokka thought he was a valuable member of their group. His tactics were sound. At first. Jet was a brilliant fighter and charismatic. But he was a lunatic. Dangerous.
"So far Zuko and Iroh haven't given us a reason to trust them."
"I already asked Zuko to join us. So he's going."
"What?!" Sokka sighed. "We are gonna get betrayed."
.
Zuko silently walked up and waved awkwardly. Everybody jumped into the car. Katara is driving and Aang smiled talking about one of his many stories. He's the only guy Sokka knows that's excited for foraging missions like these. Music plays from the radio. Zuko knows Sokka doesn't –no. Won't trust him. Or begrudgingly anyway.
.
They park and camouflage the car. Ahead is an underground bunker. The metal trapdoor gleams from glaring sunlight. It's feels empty of any life but that doesn't mean danger isn't lurking by.
.
Sokka studies the structure with binoculars. There has to be some supplies left behind. He goes first and carefully pries the lid open with a crowbar. The rusty plate creaks open. He takes a step and then is yanked back from a hand on his shoulder. A tripwire snaps and a sickle goes flying overhead.
So much can go wrong in seconds. He looks at Zuko, who had practically tackled him.
"Thanks. I didn't…I should've seen-"
Zuko got up. "It's okay. That one was well hidden. I know because my uncle and I ran into similar traps when traveling."
"See? Aang and I knew he'd help us." Katara grinned.
Sokka rolled his eyes and entered the bunker.
.
"Aang and I will go to the south part of the bunker. There is a medical room and greenhouse that way." Katara flourished a sword.
"I guess Sokka and I'll look elsewhere for supplies."
Everything is in disarray. Furniture is broken or tossed, papers gather in chaotic piles like the last signs of a fire, and scars blemish the metal walls.
.
Zuko searches hurriedly through cabinets and drawers, claiming packages of food and medicines. There's even cash. Sokka finds some cans and water bottles. He signals to Zuko that they should look on the next floor.
.
Two floors down they enter a small game room. It's like a mini arcade. They see a TV, a game system, and a shelf full of videogames. "Wow," Zuko pulled some from the shelf. His eyes gleam cheerfully, something Sokka never thought he'd see. "I remember this! Zombie Uprising."
"You played videogames?" Lighthearted laughter.
Zuko narrowed his eyes at Sokka. "Yeah. I used to. A lot. My…my mother bought it for me."
.
He opened the case and looked at the cartridge. "My sister and I were into sports. Mostly martial arts. She ranked up faster and always won gold medals. Me," Zuko chuckled bitterly. "Bronze and rarely silver. But I really like videogames. Though my father never considered it actually a," he puts on a voice, cruel and unsympathetic like his father. "Thing worth wasting time on."
.
Shocked, Sokka realizes that Zuko is sharing a bittersweet nostalgic moment.
"Funny how zombies are real now, huh?" He smiled and waved the cartridge. Sokka's heart happily jumped up –but he didn't know why.
"Hey Zuko…can I ask? Are you looking for other family?"
"Oh," his eyes become despondent and his smile vanishes. "My mother. She disappeared years ago before the apocalypse. Uh," he cleared his throat to disband sadness. "What about you?"
.
"My dad." Sokka said. "Mom protected Katara and I from bandits. We couldn't save her. She distracted them so we could escape."
Zuko's eyes softened. "I'm sorry. She sounds brave. I'm sure you did everything you could. You and Katara are alive. And you guys made a strong group. I'm sure she'd be proud."
Sokka seemed to find a smile. "Thanks man."
.
He'd been telling himself that he was a failure. A coward for running. Katara and Sokka had tried to rescue their mother, who was injured from fighting the bandits that broke into a house. But she hurriedly pushed them outdoors away from the danger. Just as the two left, the house burst into flames.
But hearing Zuko say that made the survivor's guilt fade a little.
.
Sokka had wanted to be a hero like his dad but when he had to he was fainthearted. Or so he believed. He never fought off the bandits and didn't even know where they went after the ambush.
"My dad's a soldier in the army. He'd take us camping and teach us how to survive. He was supposed to return home but then you know," Sokka threw his arms around. "Zombies."
"I-"
.
Glass breaks. The two's eyes abruptly meet. 'What was that?!'
Sokka carefully opens the door. Nothing but shadows paints icy metal walls. Even so, he equips his gun. They exit the room soundlessly and go into a corridor. Someone shouts a war cry and barrels into Sokka. He dropped his gun.
Hands grip his throat as he's thrown at the wall. Gasping for breath he realizes he can't move. Can't unsheathe another weapon.
A blade glimmers. Hears the ringing of it slicing through air.
'Am I really going to die here?!'
.
The cloaked figure turns, sensing somebody sneaking up on him. Waving the blade he cuts Zuko's arm. Zuko wraps his arm around the attacker's throat and twists the adversary's arm. The man has a death grip on the knife –refusing to let go.
Sokka slowly recovers, scolding himself for being so weak. For not being ready for an enemy.
.
"Look out!"
The warning saves Zuko. His shoulder has a blade sink in where his neck had been seconds before. A punch sends him staggering. He flourishes his twin blades and parries a knife.
They've forgotten about Sokka. He crawls towards his gun. It's a small narrow space and he almost gets kicked in the face.
.
"One's getting away!" Startled, the guy lunges for Sokka.
He won't reach the gun in time.
Zuko stabbed the guy's throat, pinning him to a wall. In a flash Sokka grabbed the pistol, turned around and shot the other. He falls, dead.
.
The two hold their breath in shock, and then sighed. Their hearts are pounding. They can feel it in their ears. "You okay?"
Zuko nodded. "I can manage. You?"
"Grateful. You…I didn't think you'd-"
"I'd never leave my friends when they're in danger!" He frowned, seeming offended.
Sokka smiled. "So we're friends?"
Blushing Zuko said, "Let's grab supplies and meet Aang and Katara. They might've run into other people too."
.
Aang and Katara stop to clean blood from their weapons. The four quickly tell each other what had happened. This bunker is home to a violent group. Luckily Katara and Aang caught them off guard and swiped food from a greenhouse and medical supplies. Everybody got into the car and left.
.
Zuko removed his shirt and Sokka finds a med kit. The dark-haired teen was about to protest when Sokka said, "I owe you."
"Should we go back to base?" Katara asked.
Aang looked at his friends worriedly and nodded.
.
Sokka hesitated. He never noticed how pretty Zuko is –wait! What?!
But it's true. Underneath his distant, grumpy personality is someone caring and sweet. Shaking his head, Sokka returns to his task.
.
He adeptly cleaned and bandaged the wounds. Anytime Sokka accidently brushed him as the car drove down broken road, there was an electric jolt. 'Quit being such a girl, Sokka.' He jumped when he heard Zuko –a rare, soft whisper. "You're good at that. I'm sure these'll heal soon."
"Well," Sokka laughed. "I learned a thing or two from Katara. She wanted to be a doctor. Your sword fighting –that was cool."
"Thanks."
.
Night falls over peaceful woodland. A campfire's flames crack and its comforting light encloses the group's camp. Starlight flickers above, as if chips of coin on midnight-colored cloth. Sokka sat by the fire and gets lost in passionate poetry. Besides crafting, writing poetry is the only time the worries of the apocalypse don't bother him.
.
"Do you want any tea?"
"Huh? Oh, hey Zuko."
He sits next to Sokka, carrying a tea set. "My uncle made some." Pungent scents of floral blend. Zuko poured a cup and gave it to Sokka. "What're you doing up?"
Sokka shrugged. "Uh, you know. Admiring nature. Guy things."
Zuko chuckled. "Sure. Guy things."
Sokka sighed, sick of Zuko's amused face. "Fine Mr. Pretty Boy. I'm writing poetry."
"Poetry?"
.
Sokka is surprised. Zuko didn't laugh. In fact he looked interested. He sits against the log, crosses his arm behind his head and looks up at the sky. "Mind…mind if you share some?"
"Seriously?" Sokka blinked. He shifted through a stack of poems he was working on. "Okay. But they aren't done yet." Most are incomplete, incomprehensible emotions puked onto paper. But after some time Sokka selects one that is clear.
.
Normally he'd have stage fright but Zuko seemed intensely silent.
So he read about poetry, themes about nature, war, melancholy, loss. His somber voice runs out into the distance, fading into a gust that carries it to unknown horizons.
"Hmm…I hear faint inspirations from Shakespeare and Arthur Miller?"
Sokka laughed. "Didn't know you're into theater and poetry."
Zuko grinned. "Brave anti-heroes and tragedies are the heart of theater. Did you ever read this one about…"
Looking back, Sokka never imagined he'd find anybody who shared that hobby. Or even make friends. He's happy that he had been wrong and that Katara had let Zuko journey with them that day. It feels as if now the troubles of the apocalypse are far away.