Iroh sat, watching his nephew's wild performance. He was deeply curious of his nephew's behavior; he'd never seen Zukko like this before, even in the weeks after his banishment. At the time, he had had nightmares and such, but Iroh had figured he would. It was an abnormal thing for a child of fourteen to go through. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him, and he questioned his nephew.

"Prince Zukko…is everything okay?" Zukko turned and gawked at his uncle, startled and speechless.

"Er…n-nothin'," he finally said.

"What were you yelling at?"

"Nothing! Just forget it." Zukko rolled over so that his back faced his uncle.

"Zukko…" Iroh tried, but Zukko cut him off.

"What!" he shouted as he rolled back to face Iroh. "I said forget it!" Zukko turned away once more.

"Prince Zukko, please…I—"

"Don't call me that anymore…I'm not a prince anymore, and I'll never be a prince again."

"Pr—Zukko, I'm only trying to help. And you are a prince, and you will be unbanished as soon as we deliver the avatar to your father."

"Don't you get it!" Zukko faced Iroh once more, his anger growing. For a moment Iroh could see a fleck of pain behind his empty eyes. "Even I capture the avatar, all Father's gonna do is throw me into prison with him!"

"Why would he arrest you? He doesn't have anything to convict you of…" Zukko knew he had said too much and hesitated before answering.

"Because…" Zukko struggled to cover his tracks. "Just…never mind. Forget I said anything."

"Zukko, what's going on?"

"Nothing!" Iroh looked at him.

"Something's wrong."

"Look. Nothing's wrong. Everything's just peachy."

"Zukko—"

"Just shut up and leave me alone!" Zukko shouted. Iroh stared at him in stunned silence, then turned away. Zukko immediately regretted his outburst, for he knew how much it pained Iroh to see him upset.

"I'm sorry…" he muttered.

Can you forgive me again?
I don't know what I said,
but I didn't mean to hurt you.
I heard the words come out—
I thought that I would die,
it hurt so much to hurt you.

"That night, at the North Pole…me and Zhao were fighting, because…well, you remember that night when my ship blew up?"

"Yes," Iroh replied.

"Well, it wasn't pirates that blew it up. Well it was, but…Zhao hired them."

"What? Why?" Iroh seemed on edge.

"Because he…he knew some things and thought I'd capture the Avatar before him, and…" Zukko sighed, then apologized again.

"Zukko…what did Zhao know? What are you hiding?" Iroh was practically yelling at this point. Zukko sputtered for a few moments, then sighed and walked over to his bag, which rested beside Iroh's. He shuffled through its contents until he reached a large object wrapped in white cloth. Zukko lifted it gingerly, then sighed and sauntered to Iroh's side. He sat down and hesitated, then finally handed the parcel to him. Iroh took it, his face reflecting his vexation as he unwrapped the white linen.

There, resting in the garment like a sapphire jewel, was the face of the Blue Spirit. Iroh looked up, and again Zukko hated himself.

Then you look at me,
you're not shouting anymore—
you're silently broken.
And I'd give anything now
to kill those words for you.

"Why?" Iroh finally managed.

"Because—I…I don't even know anymore. I didn't want Zhao to capture the Avatar…if he did…we'd be stuck out here forever. I just—I wanna go home…it was the only thing I could think of! Wouldn't you have done the same?" Iroh didn't answer. "Uncle, you have to understand! Please!"

"Why didn't you tell me before?" he asked, and it was obvious that he was deeply hurt.

"I—I don't know…I guess I was afraid that you'd…you'd turn me in to my father, and I knew what would happen then, and…" Zukko paused in his rambling and looked at Iroh. He seemed older than ever; every wrinkle in his pale face seemed defined ten-fold by the moonlight.

"Zukko, you know I'd never turn you in. Not to your father."

Each time I say something I regret,
I cry, "I don't want to lose you,"
But somehow I know that you will never
leave me—yeah.
'Cause you were made for me—
somehow, I'll make you see
how happy you make me.

"I'm so sorry, Uncle…" Zukko sighed deeply with frustration. "I never meant for any of this to happen…"

"Meant for what to happen?" Again Zukko sighed.

"That night…when me and Zhao were fighting…Uncle…"

"Yes?"

"He's dead."

"What! How!" Iroh queried, shocked.

"I don't want to talk about it. Not now."

"Okay then, just answer one question…was it you?"

"What?"

"Did you kill him?" There was a long silence, during which Zukko watched Zhao drown repetitively in his head. Iroh sighed and stood, walking to the opposite edge of the raft.

"Well?" Iroh questioned, a hint of impatience singing in his raspy voice.

"I—I don't know…I should've let him go…I should've let him think I was dead…" There was a long silence—a silence that was deafening to Zukko.

"So, where will we go now?" Zukko asked, trying to change the subject.

"I don't know, now that you're considered a fugitive. Zhao probably told the Fire Lord as soon as he discovered the truth. The whole Fire Navy'll be looking for you…"

"You'll stay with me, though…won't you?" Zukko asked, his eyes filling with tears. As Iroh looked at his nephew, he was reminded of the Zukko he had known before the banishment: he looked like a little kid being told his baby dragon took flight while he was away at his best friend's house.

"You don't need me anymore, Zukko—you're old enough to take care of yourself now." Iroh said absently, almost like he was thinking aloud. The tears in Zukko's eyes spilled onto his cheeks as he stood.

"Uncle—please! You can't leave me! You're the closest thing to a father I've ever had! I'm so sorry…I know I messed up, but please…don't leave me…"

I can't live this life
without you by my side.
I need you to survive,
so stay with me.
You look in my eyes,
and I'm screaming inside
that I'm sorry.

Iroh sighed, then turned to face his nephew. "Alright," he said at last, "I'll stay." The tears slowed as he smiled weakly and thanked his uncle. Iroh smiled sweetly, then reached for him and enclosed him in his large arms. He felt his tears soak through the fabric on his shoulder, and they were white-hot on his cool flesh.

"I'm sorry…" he heard Zukko mutter. Iroh looked at him, and saw his nephew still as a child of fourteen at heart, but also as a man of sixteen, his son.

"It's alright, Zukko. It will be okay. I promise." Iroh assured him.

And you forgive me again.
You're my one true friend,
and I never meant to hurt you.

Author's Note: the last verse is just singing without any music (I know the word for that but I can't spell it) for anyone who's never heard it…this was actually started before season two (actually I started right after the season finale…) but never got around to finishing it. I wanted to finish before the show stole anymore of my ideas…Oh, and so sorry about how uneven the sections are between the verses…I didn't really realize it until I went back over it. I woulda changed it if it didn't fit so well…comments?