Chapter Seven: Yesterday Seems As Though It Never Existed

"Yes! Finally!"

The silver belly of a trout glinted as Zuko watched Sokka pull it out of the water. The willow branch functioning as a spear was lodged through the fish's middle and, as the small animal wriggled, blood dripped from the wound. Sokka proudly cast the fish aside, into the grass, and dislodged the spear. He turned back toward the water, waiting for another to swim close enough.

Zuko was crouched next to the water tribe boy, watching as the other teen tried to spear the glinting shadows in the stream. The prince held his right hand out, over the water, moving his hand in a semicircular motion left to right, warming it and sending the fish toward Sokka, toward the cooler area. Sokka bit his lower lip and the spear found another target.

After catching three more, for a total of four, Sokka announced it was enough. Taking the sharp-sided rock he'd used to sharpen the willow rod, the tribesman gutted the fish. There was perverse silence as dark hands held the silver, wriggling animal and spilled its entrails into the stream. Zuko felt his stomach churn, but he wasn't sure if it was only his hunger.

"You'd think they'd figure out going toward the colder water would get them caught after the first few," Sokka said as he examined the fourth fish, dumping a pile of blood and purple, blue, greenish guts into the stream. He strung the fish across the willow rod, through the mouth and out the gill with the others.

"I wouldn't give them too much credit." Zuko stood as Sokka did and shook out his cramped leg. He turned in the direction the other teen was facing. "Animals are unintelligent."

"That's not true," Sokka said, and they began to walk. "Once we - I mean, my tribe - had this polar bear…" It was better to let the tribesman prattle on. The constant motion of his mouth was a distraction for the both of them. They were only a mile upstream from the waterfall.

They passed through the thick undergrowth, toward a small meadow hidden in the shadow of tall pines and oaks. Zuko had spotted the area as they trekked upstream in the early morning. It was small, solitary, and protected by the large trees. If a firebender patrol were to come within a quarter of a mile, the duo would be able to make a quick escape. Zuko had it planned, right down to the dry branches of the old oaks, which were to be burned in order to reduce smoke. In their situation, small reassurances of safety were comforting. Planning was comforting. Knowing was better.

"…Anyway, the bear ended up pulling his unconscious master five miles, back to the village, where he was treated, and …" Sokka's eyes flashed with curious intent and he asked, "…Everybody lived happily ever after. You weren't even listening to me, were you?"

"Not a word."

"Fine, then."

The situation was fragile - much like they had done the day before. There were mild attacks back and forth. Sokka would accidentally let a branch slip and it would hit or miss Zuko. Zuko would pointedly ignore the peasant, deeming his stories trivial. They were all half hearted at the least, because, in a way, they had killed each other behind the waterfall. The rift that had grown between them was gone and Zuko found himself closer to Sokka. It wasn't comfortable.

Nevertheless, they put on an act. Each playing their former selves, the waterfall completely nonexistent. Zuko knew, though, eventually they would reach it. He wanted very much to avoid it, to continue to be himself before the curtain of liquid dropped. Before he'd learned he was similar to the watertribe boy.

His body ached, but it was all a small price to pay in order to procure the odd form of comfort he took from knowing the other boy couldn't kill him. It was comforting… even nice.

The blue-clad teen broke into the clearing before Zuko. "Here. Hold this." The rod of strung fish was handed over to the prince, who stared at them almost questioningly. Sokka indignantly went about dragging pieces of oak to the center of the clearing. It was like firing an arrow and missing, only to find out the victim was an enemy anyway. Sokka knew he was stronger than the prince. His display didn't seem to emphasize the point but Zuko caught on. He was the weaker of the two.

Sokka kicked away the leaves, exposing dark soil, and placed the timber over the barren patch. With a patronizing glance he motioned toward the kindling. "If you please."

Zuko shifted the fish to his left hand and twisted his right, flames sparking in the nearby air and igniting the wood.

"Thank you." Sokka grabbed the fish back and began to set each limp body on its own bough. Expertly, he restrung the fish from mouth to tail on thin green branches he'd recently stolen from a nearby willow. He set the four fish over the fire, using two large logs to suspend them between the crackling flames. His blue eyes watched the fish hungrily as they began to hiss, drip, and steam over the fire.

They sat on large fallen branches that were bleached white with age, close enough to touch but neither wanting to. The fire in front of them laughed with its sputtering voice and danced mockingly. Free and vivacious.

Zuko was not interesting in watching the fish cook; instead he found himself observing the watertribe boy. There were things he was beginning to notice, such as the way Sokka's eyes smiled at the corners when he was secretly pleased or proud. The lopsided smile he gave for no apparent reason other than abashment. The way his eyes narrowed and his lips curved to the left when he was planning something. Little things. All that morning… And Zuko suddenly knew: he was getting to close.

There was a pop and a wheezing sound as Sokka turned the fish over with intent eyes. Zuko watched him silently and Sokka caught his stare. There was much too say between them but none of it came spilling out. After the waterfall they'd lapsed into silence and it was unbreakable.

Sokka cleared his throat and said, "They'll be done in a few minutes." His eyes lingered on the prince before dropping into the flames. It was clear what his mind was dwelling on as he watched the fire roll and jive. Zuko continued to watch him, an old feeling curling up in the pit of his stomach. It shouldn't have been there, especially at this time.

"We need a plan," Zuko said before he caught himself.

The other teen looked up and raised his eyebrows. "You think?"

The comment was ignored as the prince reached toward the fire with his right hand, Sokka leaning forward as his wrist was tugged. Zuko pulled a piece of charcoal from the edge of the flames, which moved back on command. The blackened wood was cool to the touch as he drew it out.

He faced the tribesman so that there was a gap between them. The white wood they sat on served as a slate as he drew out a small depiction of the coastline. "I'm assuming we landed somewhere in here…" He pointed to the U-shaped inlet on the drawing. "…Which means we're not far from a large earthbender city."

Sokka seemed to smile at the news, but Zuko cut his elation off quickly. "Unfortunately, they're not very acceptant of firebenders. What we need to find is an open port - that way I can contact my uncle and crew." He drew an X where the earthbender city was and a circle where a port would be located. "We are somewhere in here." He gestured to the empty white wood.

"I guess we just head for the port," Sokka said with a shrug. "But won't Zhao suspect that?"

"Yes." Zuko studied the crude black lines and frowned. "But it's our only choice."

"So, essentially we're probably walking right into a trap?"

"Yes."

"Well." Sokka didn't look comfortable with the idea but he didn't seem to have a better plan, either. "Makes just as much sense as anything else in my life."

Zuko raise his eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

Sokka paused hesitantly but continued, "It's not like Aang - I mean the Avatar - really plans where to go. Every day we're somewhere else and doing something different. I mean, there's no logic to where we go except our destina…" Sokka stopped himself and Zuko almost cursed; the boy was so close to letting it slip. "It's not like he's a master at aerial navigation or anything. At least here I know there's a plan."

It probably was a compliment, but Zuko couldn't accept it. "Even if we're walking into a trap?"

"So far your plans haven't completely killed us." Sardonic, really, Zuko thought. Sokka shrugged and turned back to the fish, which had taken on a darker shade. "Besides," Sokka continued. "What's worse than being stranded on enemy territory, hunted by Zhao, handcuffed and hungry?"

The air had a cold tinge and Zuko looked into the sky. "It could rain."

"Which would slow down Zhao's lackeys," Sokka said and picked up one of the poles and examined the fish. He held the fish out to the prince, "Here."

It was an odd but effective gesture at momentary peace and Zuko accepted it, adding, "Rain would also hinder us."

"Yeah," said Sokka as he blew his own steaming fish. "But I'm assuming it would be easier for the two of use to move than an entire troop, especially through the undergrowth… and if they wanted to take the rhinos. Heh."

Zuko looked uncertainly at his fish. Two globular eyes stared back through a layer of white and grease. "I suppose…" He looked back at Sokka only to find the other boy attacking the fish with his mouth. Turning away in disgust, Zuko focused on eating and found himself not hungry. Forcedly he broke the soft skin and drew a strip of white flesh away from the small bones of the rib cage.

Rain was nothing. There were matters of more importance. The poison had not yet taken full effect and he wasn't sure whether they could reach the port before it had consumed the tribesman. He was more immune to the strain - assuming the heating of his blood would slow the toxin. It worked on most poisons, but Zhao was devious. The only way to truly tell what they were infected with was to wait and see.

Again he looked at the watertribe teen, and this time thought it was regrettable he wouldn't survive. Just another casualty… the creature in his stomach stirred again once he finished the first fish. As he tossed the bones into the fire he remembered the name of the beast.

It was guilt.

---

Sokka wanted to keep talking but the prince had put up another barrier. Silence was unnerving because his mind drifted from the prince to the waterfall and back to his mother. It was a never-ending cycle; shift back and forth, back and forth. He knew the situation was delicate. He was attempting to be sociable with the prince, but responses were usually limed to "yes", "no", or a noncommittal sound.

They'd fallen into silence as they left the clearing. Zuko wiped the map off the tree and burned any indication of their lunch. Leaves were kicked over the extinguished fire and the clearing was left as it had been.

An hour or so passed and Sokka's comments fell on deaf ears as they followed Zuko's directions northwest, adjacent from a small stream. Sokka watched the water as it reflected the clear, bright sky. The breeze against the back of his neck was cool but it wasn't going to rain.

The hardest part, Sokka found as his mind wondered, was classifying their relationship. They weren't friends, he doubted they ever would be, but they weren't enemies either. It was unspoken between them: neither was willing to kill the other. They were dependant on one and other. Sokka was used to the situation. He often depended on Aang, Katara, his father, anyone and everyone who he could help in return.

Quid pro quo.

This was different though. It was complicated. Zuko, no doubt, remembered what he had been saying since the start of their journey. Sokka was his prisoner. As long as they were in the woods there was that dependence between them - dependence like the morning before when they caught the fish. Sokka didn't know what to expect once Zuko was aboard his ship. Would he be thrown back into a cell? The more daunting question continued to be, could they make it to the port?

Still, he wanted to enjoy what time he had left. Katara was the kind of person who could find beauty and enjoyment anywhere in her environment. Aang saw games and fun. Sokka saw trees and bushes and the occasional bird, there were also spears and vines and rushes for traps. He saw what was there and the possibilities. What his companion saw was questionable. Sokka tried to assume but pushed the thoughts aside, assuming never worked around the firebender.

"I've been wondering," he asked as they continued to push through the shrubbery. "Back at the beach, I remember waking up behind that log. The funny thing is, I don't really remember falling asleep there. Did you move us?"

He glanced at the prince. "Possibly," the golden-eyed teen said after a moment of thought. "Probably. I don't remember that night to well either. Why?"

"Just wondering," Sokka sighed and pushed through the branches ahead of him. He held them back; making sure the prince behind him wasn't swatted. It seemed to be part of their "treaty". Zuko kept his remarks to a minimal and Sokka stayed somewhat quiet, honoring the "treaty" with respect. It scared him, though, the path they were heading up - it lead to another waterfall. Something had to be done. They had to change something. Eventually, again, they would break down and grapple at each other's throats.

Neither could take another waterfall scene.

Sokka stopped as their detour spread out in front of them, deep, blue, like a reflecting mirror. He felt a smile spread across his face, his eyes narrowed. Behind him the prince had also stopped and looked out at the lake.

"What are we stopping for?" Zuko demanded as he looked over Sokka's shoulder.

Sokka didn't answer but walked out onto the shore. There were variously spaced boulders adorning the shore and water's edge and from them grew dark green moss, matching the forest that surrounded the haven at all sides. It was sandy and inviting; above them the afternoon sun shined and smiled. It was too perfect. Carefully he undid his wrist guards, tossing the white cloth onto the ground.

"What are you doing?" Zuko asked with a cold, questioning expression on his face. As Sokka turned to face him, the prince's expression became suspicious.

"You want to know something?" Sokka asked as he undid the tie around his waist. Zuko raised an eyebrow, his eyes drifting from Sokka's waist to his face and back. Sokka leaned toward the prince and said as plainly as he could, "We stink. I don't' know about you but I'm going to bathe."

"What?" then, "What about the plan? Zhao's men you, imbecile!"

Sokka shrugged and slipped his right arm out of the jerkin, suddenly realizing that Zuko was connected to his left arm and he couldn't completely remove himself from the clothing. He mentally cursed the inconvenience. Grumbling in his head, he raised his eyes to meet the prince's. Gold disks traced across his chest and torso. Sokka was surprised to catch the prince staring, but suddenly realized there were dark patches of blues and purples at his sides and near his ribs.

"I can hardly feel them," Sokka mumbled and Zuko's eyes met his.

"You're serious about this." Zuko's voice wasn't compliant, but Sokka knew if he was going to get wet then the prince would join him. It was time to test the boundaries of their "treaty". Besides, the gritty feeling covering his body was beginning to become annoying. Hygiene wasn't a first on his list of things to worry about but dried seawater, sand, dust, and foliage weren't comfortable to walk around in.

His wrist was wrenched upward as the prince pulled his shirt off, letting it slide down his right arm - unable to completely remove it due to the manacles. Sokka blinked and caught sight of the other boy. His ribs were bruised darkly and other various welts and bruises adorned his pale skin. Sokka caught sight of the four welts running down his stomach and looked away.

He found himself feeling gawky next to the prince's polished figure and kicked off his boots indignantly… the firebender did the same, throwing them together against the large boulder in the sand.

Sokka reached for the drawstring of his pants and suddenly realized how far this was going to go. He undid the knot with one hand and felt the breeze run through his legs and his pants slipped past his hips, shivering in the shorts serving as undergarments. He tossed the pants against his boots and turned his attention to the firebender.

A second pair of pants landed on Zuko's boots and Sokka looked at the other boy tentatively. The prince was unreadable, aloof, but his eyes were determined. He had chosen to follow through - an honorable, admirable choice.

It was a ritual. Like spending a week out in the ice with clothes and a knife made a boy a man, stripping down and standing in the cool air, exposed and vulnerable, made caution into trust. Sokka at first had been fearful of the prince, then hateful, vengeful, and - after the waterfall - afraid to break him. Hope was beginning to wake in Sokka's stomach.

The understanding was mutual. Sokka had told his story under the waterfall. This time, Zuko was revealing his tale through his body. The four welts faded as they reached below Zuko's navel. There were other markings, too. Sokka spotted them at once, just under the black undergarment, running along the inner side of both thighs: bruises, dark and purple.

Zuko fit the part; Sokka concluded at once, his body emanated prestige and power. Even as he turned to face Sokka muscles rippled and skin tightened.

"Are you going stand there staring all day or are we going in the water?" The reply wasn't as offended as it was nervous. Sokka caught hints of uncertainty in the prince's eyes, suddenly realizing exactly how much the prince wanted to avoid something like the waterfall. He was willing to go along with Sokka's request in order to keep the peace.

"Right. Sorry." Sokka turned toward the lake, aware of the prince next to him. There was an awkward clump of clothing at their connected wrists and Sokka found himself wishing he could take off the cuffs.

The water lapped at their toes and Sokka was surprised at the lukewarm feel, the ocean was much more frigid. No one stopped or spoke until the water was waist level. Sokka felt like diving and surfacing with a tremendous force, just to wash everything from him instantly, but the constant tug at his wrist prevented him from carrying out his wishes. When the water was nearly chest level Sokka stopped and dunked himself. He came back up and shook out his hair, pulling the tie out.

Zuko was doing the same, although less enthusiastically. Sokka saw him surface, his dark hair clinging to his face and scar. Methodically he rubbed behind his ears and splashed water onto his shoulders and neck.

They cleaned in silence, any verbal commentary didn't seem to fit the situation; yet Sokka found himself questioning the future, finally asking, "What happens after this?"

"What do you mean?"

Sokka caught the prince's gaze and held it. "I mean, what happens when you get back to your ship? What about me?"

There was an uncomfortable pause as the prince looked over Sokka's shoulder and thought. His eyes flicked back to meet the watertribe teen's, "I don't know."

---

He was standing in the snow once again. Small. A child, again - holding a warm hand in his. The drifts were high for the time of year, but, he asked himself; what time of year was it?

Reality came crashing into him as he stared at the fire aflame. It was a slow process. Step by step the figure dragged itself toward him and Sokka couldn't look away. It was enchanting. Like a pyromaniac found fire mystifying, Sokka found the figure's slow dragging dance inescapable. As it drew closer it grew warmer and hotter. Hands waved in the air, hanging at the sides and broken legs grew closer and closer.

The hand in his gave a quick squeeze and he found himself backing away. The figure slumped to the ground, falling face first into the snow. A low wail escaped any lips it might have had. Even in the wind he could tell it was calling his name. "Sokka" over and over again in a betrayed voice. It wanted him.

"She's already dead," said the owner of the hand and Sokka faced Prince Zuko, clad in his usual armor. He was towered over Sokka's young form and held his hand tightly. Sokka struggled to free his hand from the prince's but it was futile. The prince was gripping his wrist slightly. "She's dead!" the prince said with an irate expression. "Do you want to join her?"

"She's my mother!" Sokka wrenched free of the prince's grip and ran toward the burning woman. The snow became harder to run through, the wind blew against him, and as he drew closer to his mother the farther she became. Finally, he fell, tripping face first into the ground.

He rolled onto his side and stared at his feet where the carcass of the snow leopard lay. He caught the deep amber gaze and stared. Eyes blinked back and he scrambled away as the animal rose to its feet, entrails trailing behind it. Pieces of organs and insides dropped from the open stomach and blood ran freely, unfreezing on the snow. Sokka froze in horror as the leopard lunged at him; its large mouth fitting across his throat. He struggled on the icy ground, coughing and chocking until the leopard drew away. And looked down on him, mouth full of blood and sinew.

Sokka shook violently and awoke. The pounding in his ears alerted him to the downpour. Rain was splashing around them, falling through the leaves above them. He had been asleep under a large pine. Sokka shivered involuntarily in the cold and looked around recalling how he came to rest under the tree.

Zuko had been right. It rained. Hard.

The prince was in front of him, eyes closed. Sokka lay back down and faced the prince. He sighed and shivered at once and something warm covered his shoulders. He stopped and realized the prince had wrapped his left arms around his shoulders, drawing him into his chest. Sokka wasn't sure if it was the gesture that startled him the most or who the gesture came from. There was a silent truce between them that had sprung from the lake, something stronger than the connection in the waterfall. Zuko had surrendered his prisoner.

Around them the rain beat down mercilessly and the wind was cold, but Sokka was close enough to feel the heat radiating from the firebender. He drew closer to the other teen and rested his forehead against the prince's chest, whispering, "Thanks."

As he drifted back to sleep, Sokka thought he heard Zuko whisper, "Don't get used to it." If he did hear correctly, through the wind and heavy rain, there was no malice in the prince's tired voice.

To Be Continued In…

Chapter Eight: Smoke Lifting From The Ground

The journey continues precariously. Loyalties, morality, and trust are put into play when they earthbenders finally appear.