Disclaimer: Let me tell you all a story: Once upon a time, there was an author known as Masako Moonshade. Now, miss Moonshade truly loved writing, but she was very sad, because she didn't own the rights to anything she wrote. They belonged to their respective creators, including Nickelodeon. But Masako would not be dismayed, because she knew that someday, she would gather an army great enough to conquer Nickelodeon and all the world, and...I mean...she knew that one day a handsome prince would come and whisk her away, and that her wonderful reviewers would read her stories, regardless of who owned them. Heh heh...

AN: Hey, IceChildOfNight...I'd love to hear your ideas, but you left me no way to contact you. Could you send me an email or something? And anyone else who has ideas, reactions, whatever, feel free to say so! I'm all ears...or eyes...or whatever, but my telepathic skills are going nuts right now, so I won't be able to read your minds. Which is why we have reviews. :)

Also, I'll be starting school on Tuesday, and I'm pretty busy this week, so updates are going to be a bit farther apart. Expect one every week or so.

Chapter 3

"Okay," Sokka said thoughtfully, sinking into his self-assumed 'I'm the leader' position. "We're going to need to lay down some ground rules." Katara eyed him skeptically.

"And what would those be?" Sokka bowed his head, looking as serious as he could manage.

"First of all, you're not allowed to capture Aang." Zuko stared at him blankly.

"You can't be serious," he said.

"Dead serious." Sokka said mulishly.

"What exactly do you think I'm going to do? Tie him up and carry him off? Did you somehow miss the bounty on my head? With or without the Avatar, Zhou will have me executed if I come anywhere near the Fire Nation."

"Then you should have no problem with that rule," Sokka said smugly. "Next rule: don't eat, mistreat, or torch Appa or Momo." Zuko shot Katara a glance that clearly said 'your brother is insane.' Katara rolled her eyes playfully.

"It's more for him than for you," she explained. Sokka ignored her comment and continued:

"And the two of you have to have either Aang or me sleeping between you at night. I don't want-" Katara blushed furiously and clapped her hands over Aang's innocent ears.

"Is that really necessary?" Zuko asked Sokka, more than a little irritated as he broke into the other boy's instructions.

"Just so we know where we're coming from," Sokka countered. "But I think you get it. Okay, and while we're on that note," Katara still hadn't uncovered Aang's ears, though the young boy was still straining to hear what was being said. "Don't go sneaking off together. And don't do anything you wouldn't want Aang or me to see."

"Are you done?" Katara asked, her cheeks stained crimson.

"Yeah, you can let go of him now," Sokka said with a shrug. Katara released Aang, looking incredibly flustered. Aang, however, wore an innocently amused expression, revealing that he had managed to hear everything.

Sokka stared at Zuko, trying to gage the Prince's reactions. He looked insulted and somewhat angry; Sokka had seen him attack people for less. But the rules were necessary. There had to be a defined line for Zuko to cross. Some way where there could be no justifying about what was right and what was wrong.

Because Sokka still remembered Jet. He could still hear Katara defend that lying murderer. And he could still see her tears when Jet had nearly killed him and hundreds of innocent people.

Katara hadn't had much good judgment in Haru's case, either. She had wildly stormed into a Fire Nation prison, alone and unprotected. She could have been hurt. Could have been killed.

Sokka's eyes flashed to his sister, who was trying to avoid looking at anyone else as she prepared dinner.

She was smart. Wise, even, beyond her years. But when it came to boys... all of her sense seemed to vanish. And Prince Zuko was perhaps the worst person with which to make a mistake.

He was dangerous. Ruthless and cold enough to kill dozens of soldiers without hesitation. Brutal enough to scar and perhaps mortally wound Zhao. Enemy or not, the punishment had been severe. But Sokka hadn't argued, because of the circumstance, and because of Katara. Zhao had been the one who kidnapped her, who locked her away, who beat her while she was helpless in the middle of nowhere. But Sokka couldn't help wondering if Zuko would be willing to do the same to somebody else, for a lesser crime. If he wouldn't turn on them...

But even that wasn't the greatest of his worries. If Zuko decided to attack them, he and Aang would be there to fight him off. They had bested him a few times already, and once more wouldn't be too much of a problem.

The real problem was Katara.

Sokka had protected her since she was born. He had chased away the older children who bullied her when she was small, comforted her when their mother had died and when their father left to fight the war. He had always defended her and stood by her, even when he knew she was wrong.

He shuddered. Weeks ago, a lifetime ago, it seemed, he had watched in horror as Zuko kissed her. And later, when he was forced to watch as she waved goodbye, alone on the dock of the Prince's ship. Always, always, that terrible fear had pressed on him, that Zuko had hurt her. That he had done more than kiss her. If she had withheld those meetings, those trades, those kisses, what else would she hide? Would she trust him enough to tell him if Zuko really did misuse her? Would he ever know?

He shuddered again. If Katara got pregnant, he would...

"You should wrap up if you're cold," Aang said. Sokka pouted foolishly.

"If he can take a little chill, so can I," he said. It was an idiotic challenge but it convinced Aang.

"Anyway, dinner's ready," Katara said. Sokka studied his sister for an instant. She looked happy. The embarrassment seemed to have lifted, and she now hummed cheerfully as she spooned rice and some kind of experimental side dish onto the group's small traveling bowls.

If she needed help, Sokka would have to wait until she asked for it. Until then, he had to trust her.

Zuko waited until Katara was asleep before confronting her brother. The other boy was dozing, though he had earlier been keeping a dutiful vigilance.

Watching out for me, Zuko thought grimly, picking up a pebble and lobbing it into Sokka's chest. He started, grabbing his boomerang according to habit. Zuko struggled to maintain his temper. He had business to take care of and he wouldn't achieve anything if the two of them started fighting again.

"What's going on?" Sokka demanded.

"You're going to wake them up if you keep shouting like that," Zuko said evenly. Sokka lowered his voice, though his boomerang remained ready.

"What do you want?"

"I want to know why you went on like that today."

"I'm protecting my sister," Sokka said defiantly, sitting up.

"From what? Your sick imagination?"

"I don't know what you've done to her already," he hissed. "But I'm not going to sit by and let you have your way with Katara." Zuko felt fury course through his veins like liquid flame. He forced down his rage and indignation, keeping his focus on the task at hand.

Just like meditating. Meditating. Just breathe...

"I have done nothing to Katara," he said acidly. "And I would never dishonor her, or do whatever else is running around in your twisted mind. I respect her more than that." He stared coldly down at Sokka. "More than you do, apparently."

"What are you talking about, you freak?" Sokka snapped.

"Do you honestly think Katara would let anyone mistreat her? Do you think she's fool enough to be charmed out of her chastity? Do you honestly believe she'd lay down and submit to whatever man tried to 'have his way' with her?" he finished, glaring at the other boy. Sokka sat back, digesting what he heard for a silent moment.

"You haven't done...anything to her?" he asked warily.

"I've held her. I've kissed her. You already knew about that. But I've done no more."

"And you aren't going to..."

"No."

"You swear?" Zuko didn't hesitate.

"Yes." Sokka judged him with a wary eye.

"Fine," he said grudgingly. "But I swear, if you hurt her..."

"I know," Zuko said, laying down, decisively keeping Sokka between himself and Katara. "I know." He closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.

A scream cut through the air.

Sokka raced to the source of the cry, his heart pounding like a drum. Any harder and it would tear through his chest.

He broke through a line of trees, into a clearing. Aang was lying on the ground, absolutely still. Suddenly his body burst into flame, the angry, bloodthirsty fires consuming everything they could touch.

"No!" Sokka shouted, rushing at the corpse, praying desperately that he could somehow save his friend, that Aang could be restored, that he wasn't dead, wasn't gone...

The flames vanished as quickly as they had come into being, leaving nothing but white ash and bones where the Avatar once was.

Sokka turned away from the grizzly sight, horrified.

And he saw Zuko.

The Prince was holding Katara, comforting her, whispering things into her ear before he kissed her, gently, on the lips.

It was Katara who had screamed, Sokka realized.

Why?

Because Aang had died?

"It's all right, Katara," Sokka said, almost pleading. "It's over. Don't look. He'll come back. Into the cycle. And we'll find him again. It's all right." He wanted to protect her. He didn't want her to see.

Zuko pulled his face from Katara's and turned to look at Sokka, a smile on his face.

Still in his arms, Katara's head lolled to the side. Her shoulder rolled slightly, and for the first time, Sokka saw the dagger that had been thrust into her heart.

Zuko was still smiling as Katara's blood trickled from his lips.

Sokka woke with a start. Desperately he kicked off his sleeping bag, crawling to his sister's side. She had rolled during the night, and her back was turned to him. With a force near violence, Sokka grabbed her and spun her to face him, and he searched her face, her chest, his eyes straining in the darkness for the cruel red omen of blood.

But there was nothing.

Katara's eyes were open now, and she studied her brother with concern and alarm.

"Sokka? What's going on? What's wrong?" Around them, Aang and Zuko woke as well.

Weak and giddy with relief, Sokka slumped back. His breathing was as heavy as though he had been running, Cold sweat drenched his skin.

"What is it?" Zuko asked in his usual cold, military tone. Sokka's stomach lurched.

"You okay, Sokka?" Aang yawned, a more familiar, comfortable, welcome sound. Katara gently laid the back of her hand against her brother's forehead.

"You've got a bit of a fever," she observed, still concerned. And still alive! Sokka wanted to hug her. And Aang, too.

It was a dream. It was just a dream. Nothing else. They're okay, they're not hurt, everything is as it should be.

The heat on his face was nothing more than an embarrassed flush. He had been terrified by a mere dream!

"I'm fine," he said, trying to regain his nerves.

"Are you sure?" Katara asked in her kind, motherly way.

"Positive."

"Okay," she said, though she still looked unconvinced. "But we have been going at a pretty rough pace. We should probably take it easy for a while."

"That's a good idea," Sokka said, crawling back to retrieve his sleeping bag.

"Am I hearing things?" Aang asked, trying to lighten the mood. "Are you sure you're not sick?"

"Back to sleep, Aang," Sokka grunted.