A/N: We return to the riverbank…

Thank you for your kind reviews. My dashing Sokka has been sadly undermined by canon. I weep, but look to future episodes for redemption.

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

CHAPTER 10:

"It wasn't my fault, I tell you, so just shut up about it," Sokka sputtered bitterly. "How was I supposed to know he would show up?" His face was streaked with wet soot, his clothing tattered and singed, and with the passing of adrenaline he could feel the sting of burn blisters on top of cuts on top of bruises. At her insistence, he gingerly began to strip down so Katara could start healing him.

"I still don't understand why you felt you had to bring him with you. Why not at least leave him on the other bank? And look at you, both of you are a mess!"

Zuko's head, back and shoulders were openly bleeding from numerous injuries, including a major laceration across his right shoulder-blade that exposed the bone. They had decided to lay him down on his stomach even though they suspected at least several of his ribs were broken. At least his time in the river appeared to have washed his wounds free of any clinging dirt or debris. His breathing had become ragged.

"Now what are we going to do?"

"That crazoid Bumi said to avoid killing anyone if possible, remember? Unfortunately, I think leaving an asshole behind in a burning building would be included in 'killing someone'. As for leaving him across the river, now there's a thought! Found, one wanted Fire Nation prince, near the site of a major example of sabotage and resistance against the Fire Nation — Oh, go ahead, get started on him, he's obviously worse off. Unless you're prepared to let him die here. No? I thought not. Lay off on the head wound, though. We don't want him waking up in any hurry." Sokka shivered a little as a breeze whispered against his bare torso.

"No, think about it, Katara. If Zuko were found and in any way associated with blowing up that factory then the message portion of this mission gets muddled. You heard Bumi! Giving people the idea that there are ways to fight back is almost as important as destroying the war balloons. If people think Zuko - or any Fire Nation person - was involved, then control goes back to them, the Fire Nation. No. It has to be the resistance. Here, give me the whistle. I'll call Appa."

Katara worked over the prince, bending water from the river onto his more severe wounds, holding the various layers of tissue together with her hands and guiding her energy to heal them. Soon, even the copiously bleeding head wound was closed.

Sokka blew into the bison whistle as hard as he could. He felt foolish doing so, since he heard nothing and had no way of knowing if Appa had heard the whistle unless and until he arrived to pick them up. Katara probed gently at Zuko's ribcage, breathing deeply as she realigned several ribs that seemed askew. At first, she worked without comment, ignoring her patient's identity as she listened to her brother.

"I don't know. First Aang, now you. Is everyone getting soft in the head where Zuko's concerned? Help me roll him over now. I think he'll breathe more easily, although his chest might be sore for a while."

"Huh. You had your chances to kill him and didn't. You're not so tough either." Sokka felt vaguely guilty for his actions, and sought something, anything, from his sister to ease his conflicted conscience. Her efforts to heal the Fire Nation prince gave him the solace he needed. He couldn't tell her that, though.

"So. None of us could kill him… I think Aang believes he's important somehow. You know, when he's asleep he doesn't look so dangerous. Like he could almost be nice." She stood up and turned to Sokka.

"Pity he can't stay asleep, then, isn't it?" Flippancy was good. It was easy, and it made things come back to normal.

"Your turn, now. Come on, we're both all wet anyway. This will be easier in the river. Now aren't you glad I came along?" They waded back in the water so Katara could attend to Sokka's injuries. "You were never supposed to be inside when the blasting jelly went off. I can't believe you're even alive!"

"Yeah, me either, really. You know, except for being convinced every second I was gonna die, actually experiencing the explosion was kinda cool. I mean, you should have seen all that crap fly around! And actually being lifted by the blast, well, now I know how catapult ammunition feels… Not fun." He grinned suddenly, "But Aang would probably have loved it!"

By the time she was finished, Sokka was feeling substantially better and Katara was nearly exhausted. As they came back ashore she playfully stroked her hand across his head, smoothing back the stray locks that now hung across his eyes, their ends brittle with singe. "I wonder what the girls back in Omashu will think of your new look."

"As if I care," he grunted. "It's not that bad, is it? You know, I owe it to Sleeping Beauty there. I'd return the favor if he had any hair left to cut." Grabbing his spare tunic from his pack, he considered the shirt he had been wearing, finally deciding to discard it.

"Doesn't matter anyway. I wonder what he's doing here, don't you? Bet he'll be pissed when he wakes up and we're long gone." She yawned. "Why don't you try that whistle again. Appa may not be sure where we are."

After pulling on dry clothes herself, Katara returned to Zuko, having decided to complete the job of healing the more modest injuries he had sustained. She left only the single bruise to the back of his head to his body's natural recovery processes. If the irony of her efforts struck her, considering how recently she had thrown the full force of her bending to break and bruise his body, she gave no sign.

Before blowing the bison whistle, Sokka dug again in his pack, this time retrieving a flask. He opened it and took a long pull from its contents, a gift from their musician friends. He coughed a bit.

"What? Don't look at me like that! Damn it, I earned this tonight!" He settled down beside his pack and picked up his instrument, running his fingers idly across the strings, adjusting the tuning, and then picking out some random chords.

Half an hour later Appa dropped silently out of the sky to the strange sight of Sokka working out a quiet melody, Katara curled up asleep beside him with one hand stretched out to rest on Zuko's shoulder. Across the river smoke billowed in wave after wave as the fire, now spread to a few other buildings in the sector, continued to take its toll on the Fire Nation. No one noticed a ten-ton bison re-ascend some minutes later, and no one noticed the remaining boy on the sandbar, sleeping on into the night.