A/N: New to this world of fanfiction writing, and I'm already a stats whore. This little story has actually gotten a substantial number of hits and some very nice reviews. I'm touched! Really. Thank you all so much!

Okay, it's time to return to the action.

Disclaimer: Okay, I don't own Avatar or its characters. Owell. I'll get over it. So will you. In the meantime…

CHAPTER 7:

Zuko grimaced. "You know I can't let you do this."

"Right," Sokka sighed. "Gotta do your bit to help Dad conquer the world. Doesn't matter that he's decided you're some kind of criminal. Believe me, I understand. Well, I guess I don't really. But hey, no one ever listens to me, so why – oops, did I say the wrong thing?"

With a feral snarl, Zuko leapt at Sokka before he finished speaking. Sokka flung the lamp in a wide arc towards a stack of oil-soaked crates at the far end of the factory floor, swinging himself over the railing at the same time. He was rewarded by the sound of breaking glass and a hissing as flame caught at the oil. Happily, another stack of crates reduced his drop from the loft to a manageable distance. Less happily, in Zuko's fury he unleashed a gout of flame towards Sokka as he leapt. The smell of burning hair warned him that if he survived this encounter Zuko would owe him for a premature haircut! Not that he would be able to collect, of course.

Sokka rolled as he hit the floor, scrambled to his feet and automatically ducked as the Fire Nation prince followed him over the railing. But Zuko held his fire – there were too many barrels scattered around the floor and he had already just barely survived a blast from only two such barrels! The flames on the far side of the room were growing, and it was only a question of time before another of those barrels ignited.

Sokka was fast, his instincts were good, and he hadn't wasted his time in his travels idling. But Zuko was bigger and had the advantage of years of training by the Fire Nation's best. In seconds Zuko had tackled Sokka, and the two boys rolled across the floor in a deadly embrace. Sokka graced Zuko with a few choice obscenities before a punch to the gut, and subsequent shortness of breath, reminded him that the last time he fought Zuko he had lost, pitiably. Chances for a repeat score were looking pretty good at this point.

And then the first barrel went with a roar that deafened both boys and threw crates everywhere. Because he was on top, Zuko caught the brunt of a barrage of torn wood and metal, even as the pair was thrown across the room. Knocked senseless by a flying pipe riding the concussion wave, he fell over Sokka. The younger boy, somewhat protected and still conscious, wriggled out from beneath the prince's weight. Time and luck had clearly deserted him. He looked frantically to the doorway, but sheets of flame now blocked all access to it. Burning shingles and beams from the roof rained down, and the heated air was full of smoke and embers.

"Fuck! I am so doomed!" he moaned.

Another barrel ignited and he dived for the floor, covering his head with his arms. By some miracle he was not only still alive but relatively unhurt. In the cacophony of sound he thought he could make out crashing masonry. Had at least some of the walls of the factory succumbed to the explosions? Coughing in the thick haze of smoke, he looked towards the source of the original blast. Yep, he could make out several openings in the far wall, easily large enough to get through. But he would have to cross a flaming obstacle course to get there. He had no other choice, and raised himself to his feet when his eye caught the unmoving body of the prince.

Unmoving except, yes, Sokka could see the faint expansion of torso indicating that Zuko still breathed.

Sokka had had no qualms about leaving Zuko to die on the frozen tundra. He also had no doubts that Zuko would have happily killed him tonight. But Aang hadn't wanted the Fire Nation boy to die, and Sokka's stomach turned at the thought of anyone being burned to death. He'd seen it before, and the memories still gave him nightmares.

"Shit, hell and shit again! I just know I'm going to hate myself for doing this," Sokka swore as he reached down to grab Zuko's arm. Hauling the other boy upright, he slung the arm across his shoulders and wrapped his own arm around Zuko's waist. Taking a deep breath, which only caused him to cough some more, he dragged Zuko across the floor.

It was a struggle punctuated by missteps and barked shins as he tripped over fallen equipment - still burning or, in the case of metal, hot enough to scorch flesh. At several points Sokka ruthlessly shielded himself from sudden backdrafts with Zuko's body. Maybe fire-benders had tougher hides. Yet another barrel blowing up sent them flying again, but this time in the right direction. Finally they emerged into the sweet, relatively cooler air beyond the factory's walls.

Here Sokka paused to assess the situation and fill his lungs. The roar of the conflagration prevented him from hearing the shouts he knew must be issuing from people rushing to investigate the explosions. It had been at least ten minutes since the initial blast, so he had to get out fast or risk being seen and caught. He knew which way to go, thanks to the previous night's reconnoitering, but what to do about the prince? His presence, if found, would only confuse issues. Okay, so Zuko mustn't be found either. Great, that meant bringing him to Katara

Oh, yeah, that's going to make her really happy too. We can all be thrilled together with how well this whole thing has gone.

As Sokka hauled Zuko into the night he proceeded to swear at Bumi under his breath.

So why couldn't the genius have anticipated this particular problem?