Chapter Six: There Is Not Much Left of Me
It hurt. Oh gods. Fuck. It hurt.
His eyes were focusing in the darkness, watching the roots above his head appear out of the black. The dull throb of his muscles as he tried to move his legs, bending his knees slightly, and stretch his back, burned him inside. Breathing, moving, living; hurt. The pain was telling him he was undeniably alive, but he felt otherwise. So, trusting neither his mind nor his insides, he let the heat from the body pressed shoulder to shoulder remind him of everything.
Zuko rolled onto his side to look at the Water Tribe boy, who was snoring softly. He regarded the boy's angular face with distain and inside his chest, the candle burned and flared. Just glancing at the other teen could ignite his emotions, jealousy, anger, wrath… He didn't know if he could take another day with the tribesman.
It wasn't proper, he assumed, to envy the brunette. After all, he was a prince, royalty; people went to their knees for him. The boy was a peasant and Zuko felt he justly labeled him so. But - and the proverbial "but" seemed to be a constant factor in the prince's life - but the tribesman had the upper hand in the woods. But the tribesman was physically stronger at the moment, whether Sokka realized it or not, and Zuko loathed to admit it. But the tribesman wasn't banished. But his father had taught him how to survive…
The prince swallowed, finding his throat dry.
The Idiot, the peasant, Sokka, was the cause of his problems. Zuko had taken his hand. He could have batted it away, shot him, burned him, sent him away, but he took his hand. It was a subconscious move, driven by the desperation in his mind and the fatigue his body was racked with. In all sanity, Zuko knew he would have turned it away.
Zuko's tongue found the sore in his cheek. And Zhao. He'd used the prince's connection with Sokka as a preposterous distraction. It worked and he felt the shame creeping up his throat again.
He slid his left hand along his stomach, tracing the damage he knew was under the cloth. The bruises on his ribs, fingernail sized scrapes across his torso, Zhao's signature on his neck… they all were Sokka's fault… and, yet, Zuko couldn't help but feel the blame also lay within himself. For being too weak, for being too slow, for fulfilling Zhao's words. Being nothing.
And even after that shameful act, the Idiot's presence pulled him into undesirable situations. It wasn't a kiss, he repeated again in his mind. Kisses weren't something the prince dwelled on; he never had. In youth he was taught day in and day out, bending, literature, geography, arts of war, and the like. Ladies of the court approached him but never had any gotten close enough to touch his skin, often settling for his robes or shadow, and still his mind made no connection to them sexually. Banished, he looked to his honor and father; forsaking the stops his men often took to the shady ports where women in painted faces smiled invitingly and drew them away into the night. Yet, there he had been - shoulder to shoulder with an enemy, smashing lips together, sliding his own tongue into the other boy's mouth.
If anyone had seen…
The tarnish on his honor spread like a cancer - slow and never ending. Eventually, he felt, it would eat him out, hollow him. But he couldn't let that happen. He would survive and capture the Avatar, regain his father's love and respect… become honorable enough to take the thrown, rule the nation, and become the son his father meant to rear.
Flecks of dirt fell from the roots and Zuko closed his eyes, rubbing at them with his free hand.
Pain again; he was alive and hunted.
The cry of a komodo rhino echoed through the forest and from the intensity Zuko speculated the firebenders were on the bank of the ravine - just above them. He lay frozen, blood icy and breath stalled. He could not be caught in such a mud hole with the tribesman.
"Anything?" He heard a man's voice call out.
"Nothing!" was the answered from a farther vicinity.
Of course, then, the Idiot next to him groaned and mumbled, "Ten more minutes, Aaaaaang…!"
Rolling quickly, he was atop the other boy; his free hand over the Idiot's mouth, his other hand holding the boy's right wrist down, legs tangled. At once Sokka fought back, bucking and twisting, until he seemed to realize the prince wasn't intent on killing him in the night. He lay still and the prince's hand slowly slid off his lips, resting somewhere near his head. Zuko balled his fist in pain, the healing bones had been jostled during the Idiot's fit. It hurt, but he doubted they had been disjoined.
Outside, the rhino grunted again and Zuko placed his chin on the tribesman's left shoulder, hissing into Sokka's ear, "Zhao's men. Quiet." The other teen physically shivered as the scar tissue grazed his cheek but nodded silently.
"Did you hear that?" the first man asked and Sokka's heart pounded against Zuko's chest. "What was it?"
"I don't know, sir. But it came from somewhere in the riverbed!" a third, new, voice spoke up. Zuko wondered how many there were.
"Search it! Left to right, let's go!"
The ground shook as the komodo rhino moved along the bank. They were drawing farther away. Muffled voices called back to one and another, drown out by two hearts beating rapidly and shallowed breathing. Seconds crawled by and the voices grew louder again.
Left to right! Left to right! Zuko's mind was screaming. The benders were slowly making their way up the ravine, checking the crevasses and roots. Soon, the prince speculated, they would be on top of them. Zuko let go of the tribesman's wrist and pushed himself up so he could look down at the boy.
Wide blue eyes met his and, taking a deep breath, the boy sighed, whispering weakly, "Your heavy…"
Zuko stammered for what to say next, suddenly noticing the awkwardness of the their bodies pressing together. It had never occurred to the prince, but there was a definite sexual undertone about one on the other, faces pressed cheek to cheek, listening to the other's breathing. But, he reasoned, it was like passing the key. Necessary.
"Be ready to move on my signal," he whispered finally and the other teen nodded, beginning to wriggle into a crouching position.
As silently as he could Zuko removed himself from atop the tribesman. It was a heinous process, as the leaves began to crackle under his weight. His own muscles had become stiff during the night; quick movements shot shockwaves of pain through his body. He ignored it all. Motioning for Sokka to follow, he moved toward the gap in the roots and looked out. There were human forms painted silver, flickering along the ravine's walls.
Zuko looked to the right and found no signs of the firebenders; instead the great dark mouth faced him, the riverbed leading into the forest, open and foreboding.
"Come on," he whispered and, crouching low, began to move out of the leave-ridden hole. He could feel Sokka moving behind him by the tugging at his wrist. The other boy was slow, his own muscles beginning to awake.
Once both teens were out, Zuko glanced toward the tribesman and nodded upward, to the bank. They slowly began to climb the sloping ground. Zuko could feel the twitch in his right leg begin to start but he ignored it. The bank was steep but laden with roots, which provided footing and grips. Seconds past like lifetimes and Zuko felt his wrist being tugged upward. It bothered him that the tribesman was moving faster than he was.
Zuko's hand caught level ground as Sokka was pulling himself up. The tribesman jerked his wrist upward, causing Zuko to lose his grasp on the ledge. The prince caught a started flash of blue before he slipped down the ravine, stopping only because of the manacle at his wrist. With his left hand he gabbed at a loose root and anchored himself. He had to catch his footing quickly as his injured arm sent shockwaves of warning through his body, he couldn't' hold on for long.
Pieces of rock and soil met the riverbed with a soft rumble and crash. Immediately the attention of the firebenders was caught and a large flame was shot into the air. The darkness was dispatched and the entire area was tinted by orange flame.
Only seconds before, Zuko felt Sokka pull him up and he pushed forward, scrambling loudly up the bank. He collided with the tribesman's chest and felt the other move quickly, spinning them both sideways until they were against the bark of a large oak tree. Zuko ignored the bark pressing into his back, more intent on breathing silently. Sokka was against him, chests pressed together, breathing in shallow unison. As the light died around them, the glint in the tribesman's eyes told Zuko he was not going to die easily.
"What the hell was that for, private?" The commanding officer shouted at the fire starter.
"Sorry, s-sir, I heard some movement."
There was a sign and the higher officer said, "Well I heard nothing, private."
The voices were moving closer and closer and Zuko knew it was time to move. In the darkness, he pushed Sokka off him. He could see the other boy's face in the moonlight and he motioned into the trees with his free hand. Sokka nodded and they began to move through the underbrush.
The night was dark under the trees and pieces of moonlight were seeping through the leaves at they crashed through the undergrowth. Zuko winced as he heard another shout from the riverbed behind them. The soldiers had probably heard them - or found their leave filled shelter.
"We need to move faster," he urged, turning their jog into a sprint. Sokka was beside him, breathing hard but keeping pace.
The tree line was breaking in front of them and a vast meadow spread out like a carpet. Zuko cursed the gods; there was little cover in the knee-high grass. He planned to move along the tree line, around the meadow. There was no way he would let Zhao's men have an opportunity to capture him so easily.
"Wait." Sokka stopped and the prince followed in suit. "Listen."
Zuko froze, his ears straining for any sound the tribesman would find more important than their flight. Slowly the crashing sound caught his ears, it was the sound of cascading water, a waterfall. Zuko wasn't sure of the waterfall's relevance, but the tribesman had a plan and what ever the plan was it was more than the prince had.
"C'mon," Sokka grabbed his wrist and turned rushed toward the sound.
They cut across part of the meadow and plunged back into the trees. By that time Zuko had broken free of Sokka's grasp and began to dodge the underbrush and low hanging branches. The sound was becoming louder and louder, the trees were taller and a sense of foreboding filled the prince. It could have been the fatigue or starvation or combination of both, but his stomach sank as the glistening silver stream in front of him appeared through the trees.
The trees ceased and the rough water lapped the bank of a large river. Sokka was looking at the waterfall intently and began to jog toward it.
"Usually," Zuko heard Sokka explain. "The water hollows out the rock over time, so assuming this waterfall is pretty old, there should be space behind the water."
They stopped as the ground was transformed from earth to large rocks. Slippery and silver in the moonlight, the boulders adorned the base of the waterfall. Sokka led the way as they began to make their way atop the boulders, using smaller rocks as stepping-stones.
The crashing sound was deafening and Zuko felt the soft wet mist begin to cling to his skin and clothing. It was cold and it bothered him, the moister in the air would retard his bending abilities. Behind the waterfall, he guessed, would be worse. The Idiot had led him right into a trap. Sokka was bracing himself against the rock and dirt as he inched toward the side of the waterfall. Zuko followed him, keeping his disadvantage in mind. Sokka, he assumed, would be much easier to subdue than twenty of Zhao's men.
"It's perfect," Sokka exclaimed as he inched toward the small gap between water and rock.
Zuko watched him slide through as the mist thoroughly dampened his clothes. He followed Sokka and began to step into the cavern. A sharp sting cut through his shoulder as the speeding liquid made contact with his skin. Moving quickly he jumped back against he rock and hurriedly stepped into the crevice.
Inside it was cold and wet. Water was lapping at his boots as Sokka pulled him toward the back of the hallowed out cave. It wasn't as cavernous as Zuko expected - only about as deep as the flying bison was long and less than its height. Above them many boulders were jammed together in an unsafe looking roofing. Zuko imagined the boulders becoming loose and falling, crushing both teens instantly.
Sokka found a patch of semidry rock and sat down, leaving enough room for the prince to sit and lay back against the stone wall. Zuko drew his knees toward his chest and shivered involuntarily. He concentrated on his breathing, slowly warming his body by warming his own blood. The sensation began to spread from his chest outward until it reached his fingertips. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the warm image of his uncle offering him tea flashed. He wondered what became of Iroh and his crew - he'd known many of the men since the beginning. He could not have lost them to Zhao.
His wrist was jerked violently and Zuko's attention was turned back to the water tribe boy. He had begun to take of his boots, shaking out the water. Unfortunately the task required two hands, one of which was attached to Zuko.
"Oh," Sokka muttered as he noticed the prince's stare in the dim light. "Sorry." He didn't sound very sorry to Zuko.
"Did your father teach you this trick too?"
The question was meant as a reminder. He was a peasant, probably an orphan by now. Sokka seemed to miss the connotation and shook his head, "No. I thought of this myself. I used to find glaciers hollowed out by melting ice in the summer, so I thought: why not rock?"
Zuko wasn't willing to admit the Idiot had a brain somewhere in his thick skull. It was all luck. The waterfall and the fact he had been awake when the patrol came to the riverbed. All luck. He found himself thinking back further; it was lucky they had the survivors of the forty-first battalion on their side. It was lucky Zhao was overconfident and carelessly allowed the guards in the hull to stay in the chamber above. Everything they survived on - luck.
It was all borrowed time now.
"Hey," Sokka said after pouring out his second boot. "Could you start a fire or something? It's freezing in here."
"I don't think so, it's not safe." The idea was preposterous. He couldn't firebend in the humidity and even if he could the fire would most likely attract the other benders in the area.
The peasant snorted and put his damp boot back on, crossing his legs. "I don't see how you can stay warm in that."
"I can, and that's all that matters," Zuko said taking note of his sleeveless shirt. Zuko was beginning to feel the chill creep up on him; his cloths were clinging to his skin uncomfortably. He closed his eyes and opened them in time to notice the light creeping through the water, into the darkness he and Sokka shared. Daybreak.
There was a soft rumble from Sokka's stomach and he put a hand to it, muttering to himself, "I wish I saved some of those berries."
"Don't you ever stop your insatiable whining?" Zuko asked and glared the best he could in the darkness.
The Idiot was offended and snapped back, "Do you ever stop being a selfish bastard?"
The urge to kill the Idiot rose within him again. It wasn't the words or the tone of his voice - it was his voice. Zuko decided he hated it alone with Sokka's eyes, both were a clear representation of his character: defiant and fearful, sarcastic and clever, hostile and proud. He hated them all.
"Better a bastard than an orphan," Zuko said callously. Smashing the rose tinted glass surrounding the Idiot's world seemed to be satasfying. Zuko leaned in toward him and Sokka leaned back on instinct. "Your father is dead…" A smirk graced his lips, twisting them cruelly. "And you'll join him soon. I'll make sure you do."
There was fear flashing in those blue eyes but Sokka glared back, holding the prince's gaze the best he could. "At least," he snarled back. "My father loves me."
It was like the sound of tearing cloth. Zuko grabbed Sokka's front and drug him to his feet, holding him with his right hand. "How dare you imply that my father doesn't love me!"
Sokka was beyond frightened but he continued, "Your father banished you, right? He sent you to find the Avatar, right? The Avatar hadn't been seen for a hundred years; don't' you think he meant to banish you for good!"
Zuko had pulled Sokka away from their ledge and slammed him roughly against the opposite wall. His heart was pounding in his ears as he gripped the other boy's hand, threatening to break it. "It was my fault, I spoke out of turn! My father was kind enough to spare my life and give me a second chance!"
Sokka struggled against the prince's vice-like grip, "A second chance? I don't' know why you believe that shit." He glared back at the prince boldly. "Get a fucking clue."
There was a pause as Zuko dropped his head. He'd spent countless nights staring at the ceiling off his quarters, contemplating his banishment. He'd replayed it over and over again, starting from the war room. He refused to believe his father's intentions were to banish him for good. He'd been give a chance, which was more than most traitors were allowed. But he never was a traitor. He agreed his banishment was unfair. His father had to uphold a reputation and… It was his entire fault; he'd spoken out of turn. Disrespect. He deserved it.
"Perhaps," Zuko said staring at Sokka with pure hate. "I should kill you right here."
Sokka's hands were fixed on trying to break the prince's grip. Nails dug into his flesh as Sokka realized Zuko was intent on killing him. With his free hand Zuko caught Sokka's neck, his thumb crushing into the larynx, cutting the boys oxygen supply off. Sokka's hands traveled to the hand at his neck, scratching and clawing at the bandages and flesh in a desperate attempt to survive.
He had begun to thrash, but he was held in place as Zuko pressed his body against him for leverage. Sokka's eyes portrayed fear unclothed and pure. Zuko found his stomach wretch and twist as the struggling teen became weaker.
Sokka choked and Zuko pressed harder. He noticed the skin bruise as he shifted his thumb for better coverage. Hesitance had begun to creep into his blood. Similar marks adorned his neck and he was reminded of how they were similar. The mad rage in his blood began to subside.
He needed the boy alive.
It was sudden. Sokka's right leg hooked around his left and pulled inward, breaking Zuko's balance. There was little time to react as Sokka's body weight collided with his own causing him to stumble backward and fall, water splashing around his head and in his vision.
---
He gasped for breath. Sokka pushed himself half way off the other boy and stared down at the other teen's prone form. They had landed painfully in shallow water. The prince's back colliding with the rocky floor, his torso curving in an upward arc on the uneven ground. His bandaged arm caught between his body and rock.
There was helplessness in the position and Sokka shifted himself so that he held the prince's chained hand in the water, palm down. With his free hand he caught the front of the prince's shirt and held tight. His right thigh pinned Zuko's pelvis down as he bent over the fair skinned teen.
"You know I almost believed you weren't like the rest of your kind," he said, making sure Zuko's gaze was focused on him. Sokka found himself staring at the scar, heat building up inside his chest. "But I guess all firebenders are the same, banished or not."
"Get off me," the golden eye was glazed with confusion and pain. Zuko struggled, trying to arch further and throw the tribesman off him, but it was futile. He was pinned and Sokka knew it. An overwhelming sense of vengeance was spreading through him as the scar burned in his vision. Sokka glowered down at the prince, images dancing behind his eyes, images of flame licking flesh, charred.
Sokka knew he could kill the bender - maybe in the same way the bender had tried to kill him. But Sokka's insides twisted and he knew he had to tell the bender. He wanted to see the look in the teen's eyes, just before he wrapped his right hand around his throat and watched his eyes die.
"Do you know why I hate firebenders?" There was an undeniable antipathy for the prince welling in his stomach where hunger had been. "Being the pampered little brat you are I don't think you can understand what it's like to lose someone you love."
"Why you… What are you talking about?" The prince gasped out, the pressure from Sokka's balled fist on his chest seemed to slow his response. Sokka held onto the cloth and pressed the fist farther down. The firebender winced but stayed silent, livid with anger.
"My mother!" Sokka found himself yelling. "You bastards killed her." There was a faint hint of recognition in Zuko's eyes that almost made Sokka stop, but he refused to fall prey to the weakness again. He twisted the cloth in his hand. "She was totally innocent and you killed her!"
"What…? I didn't do…" The prince was glaring back. He seemed to realize Sokka was grouping all firebenders together. Stereotyped. Generalized. "If she was killed it was because she was a threat!"
Sokka jerked Zuko's shirt upward, drawing his chest forward, and then punched down. This time the prince responded; a rough gasp of pain. Sokka continued pushing his fist into the firebender's chest, threatening to crush the hard bone. The fingers holding Zuko's cuffed wrist dug their nails into the bandages, deep enough to be felt in the pale flesh.
"She wasn't a threat!" Sokka said in a low voice. Inwardly, it scared him, but the firebender's pain was enough to drive him to continue, "We weren't doing anything. Then they came. They killed most of my tribe and they killed her…"
Zuko's head tilted to the side, the unscarred side of his face opposite Sokka. "I can't justify the measures my nation has taken during this war," he said in a calm voice. Sokka could have been fooled into thinking this was an apology but there was nothing in his voice that indicated guilt. "But neither can I justify your tribe's opposition."
"You already destroyed our cities. We were in hiding. There was no opposition." Sokka balled the cloth tighter in his hand so that the damp fibers were tight across the prince's back and the pale, marred flesh of his stomach began to show. Sokka felt his gut drop and he leaned in toward the prince, making sure his lips grazed the prince's ear for effect.
"Do you know what they did to my mother?" The prince shivered. Sokka could see his eyes taking on the dead stare, focusing on something that was nonexistent.
"They didn't just kill her," he was enjoying the prince's body writhe weakly. He leaned in further, letting go of the prince's front and sliding the hand to his waist. His thumb caught in the prince's navel and his fingers extended out, gripping the rigid, warm flesh for support.
"They came into our home and caught her." Fingers turned inward, nails biting into the skin, breaking it. "They played with her; undressed her, violated her, fucked her, and then they burned her alive. I watched the whole thing… the whole fucking thing."
Sokka heard Zuko's breath hitch. It was silent; the sound of the waterfall filled the space. He had scared the prince. Sokka whispered into the firebender's ear, "I suppose if I did the same thing to their heir… it would be somewhat even."
His free hand slid under the prince's shirt finding a soft spot by the ribs that caused Zuko to gasped. The struggle the firebenders provided seemed halfhearted at the least. As Sokka pressed further, deeper into his ribs his neck craned and mouth opened in a gasp. Instead of a release of pent up air, Zuko's fragile voice pleaded, "Don't…"
Sokka felt the firebender stop struggling. Zuko's head turned and his mismatched eyes stared at the roof of the cavern, looking right through the tribesman. Again he repeated, "Don't."
"'Don't' what?" Sokka asked harshly and stared down at the bender. "Do you think I want it this way? You'll kill me if I don't kill you first, and I'd be damned if I don't put you through some form of hell before you're dragged to the underworld."
The firebender's eyes focused and locked with Sokka's hard stare. The golden orbs were raw with an emotion Sokka had never seen before. He was almost sure Zuko was hysteric inside.
"Drown me, suffocate me, I don't care. Just don't…" the prince said and tilted his head up and Sokka suddenly saw it under the jaw line, the incisions of teeth, bruised skin. They were not from Zhao's hands. His own hand trailed along the prince's chest finding a set of four welts. He rested his fingers along them, trailing downward, only stopping short of the waist when Zuko involuntarily shook.
"Don't…please. Don't," and then, choked, pleadingly, "Not again."
Sokka rolled off the other boy, his back painfully making an acquaintance with the nearby stone ledge. It took him a second to realize his right hand was shaking. He made a fist, the reality of the situation crawled into his mind, seeping into the cracks and synapses of his brain. In his stomach, hunger and disgust began to churn. He had to breath and swallow a few times to keep the bile in his throat from rising any further.
"Fuck."
It was harder to look at the prince. He hadn't moved since Sokka withdrew and the tribesman wasn't sure if the water collecting and running across the prince's cheeks was from mist, sweat, or tears. Zuko looked lifeless, only the rise and fall of his chest provided any clue to his continuing mortality.
As he watched, the arch of Zuko's body along the rock and the sun's early rays shining on his pristine skin made him unearthly - like something fallen from the clouds. His shirt was still pulled up and rumpled in the front. In the pale skin of his stomach Sokka saw the welts - four deep gashes running down his torso and disappearing at his waist, where the black pants cut them off. They extended further. They were not from the battle. Sokka knew; it must have been Zhao.
"Oh gods…" Sokka pulled his knees toward his chest, securing them with his free hand. "Shit … Oh god…"
There were tears welling in the back of his eyes, threatening to break through and cascade down his face. He could see his mother in the prince and it frightened him because he could see the faceless soldiers from seven years ago in himself. This time the bile did escape his throat and he leaned over, letting the insipid fluid mix with the water and float toward the waterfall where it was washed away.
He coughed and scooped a hand of fresh water with his free hand and drank it, trying to wash the taste from his mouth. It was worse than blood.
The sudden tug at his wrist caught him of guard and he turned abruptly to face the prince, expecting the other teen to pin him to the rock wall again. There was a soft splash as the firebender slid over and sat next to him, shoulder to shoulder. Physically the firebender had managed to appear intact, but, under the clothing and skin, Sokka was sure Zuko was broken too.
"Don't apologize," Zuko said in a familiar voice.
Sokka felt his arm shake with fatigue; their physical conditions were catching up. Zuko was exhausted - pained from the near escapes and weak from bending the previous night. Sokka was hungry, the lack of edibles causing his hands to shake and his mind to spin. They were both surviving on sheer will power.
Sokka felt his emotional walls shatter as the prince's hand brushed his; the far-off look returning to the snow leopard-like eyes. Sokka knew where his companion's mind was drifting and he leaned his head back against the rock.
"It was a clear day…" There was no reason to continue, but Sokka felt himself drifting too. Back to his village and a time he had locked away within himself. "I was supposed to go with my father and the other men on a hunting expedition. It was that time of year, but I was scared." He took a breath, not sure if the firebender was listening to him. "So I ended up staying with my mother and sister. I was eight, she was seven. I remember her asleep.
"Mom was making Katara some new boots when they came. There wasn't any time to hide so she put Katara and me under a table and pushed a bag of furs and clothes and bedding to hide us - it was the best she could do…"
The familiar weight of the prince shifted on Sokka's left side as Zuko leaned against the tribesman. His eyes stared at the glistening wall in front of them. The sun was rising and the darkness was expelled, but the cavern still held a familiar tone - like the holding cell on Zhao's ship hours before their escape. Sokka found it comfortable if only because at that moment they had reach a crossroads and could finally face each other.
"I saw her leaving us. I wanted to run after her, to tell her to take Katara - or something stupid like that - but I was too scared. I didn't know she was trying to lead them away from us. I just sat there and told Katara to go back to sleep. Even when she was pushed back in, bloody and stumbling, I couldn't move.
"All I could do was hold Katara and cover her ears, hoping she didn't wake up. I couldn't look away either. I was so pathetic… I couldn't look away and I saw it all." He laughed dryly and the prince's cautious eyes drifted away from the wall. "The worst part was the day after, when my grandmother hid the body from Katara. She buried her own daughter and explained to her granddaughter and son-by-law that 'Mommy' wasn't coming back.
"I didn't tell her but I think she always knew I'd seen…" Sokka stopped as the burning in his throat rose and threatened to push the tears, welled up behind his eyes, out.
He had changed himself since the age of eight. Picking up his fathers weapons, practicing the techniques the men in the tribe taught him before they left. He had always dreamt of the day he'd cross a firebender and kill him slowly, just like their kind killed his mother. But now he was sitting shoulder to shoulder with the first firebender he'd ever met, spilling out his soul, because that particular firebender had become to familiar to kill.
"I believe," Zuko exhaled and met Sokka's gaze at the corner of his good eye, "this makes us two more casualties of this godforsaken war."
To Be Continued In…
Chapter Six: Smoke Lifting From The Ground
What happened under the waterfall, stays under the waterfall. Zuko and Sokka try to continue their journey but the pervious morning haunts both boys.
[edited 03.15.2009]