Bearable

By conspiracytheorist

Revised and reposted on my new account. Takes place after Siege of the North.

Zuko's eyes snapped open. He stared up at the sky, the first thing he saw, and watched the light clouds go by. It didn't look like rain. That was good. The excuse for a boat his uncle had hurried to prepare to get away from the North couldn't handle anything more than a few waves.

He was eagle spread, back pressed against the uncomfortable wooden floor of the raft, but somehow the position he was in now was one of the most comfortable things he had experienced for as long as he could remember. He knew he should be more grateful. For his uncle, for his health, even for this pitiful sea craft that he planned to sail across the ocean and take the Avatar home on. He knew he should be. He just couldn't find it within himself.

He was drained. Physically and mentally. That waterbending girl was tough, and Zhao was no walk in the park either. It didn't matter, though. He was away from the Northern Water Tribe now, and all his problems had been left behind when he and his uncle had sailed away from the scene of the bloody siege attempt. His troubles were behind him now...

But Zuko could not stop them from rushing back.

"He wouldn't take my hand," Zuko said flatly. He heard his own voice, devoid of any emotion. He heard it carry to the ears of his uncle. Iroh turned to face him with his eyebrows raised. "Zhao wouldn't take my hand," the Prince elaborated. "We were fighting, and the water turned into a giant hand and it grabbed him. I stood on the edge of the bridge where our battle had taken place and reached out my hand to help him. But he closed his eyes and pulled his hand back." Zuko paused and let his words sink in. Not just for his uncle's benefit, though.

"He embraced his own death! Why would he choose to die instead of taking my hand? Suicide is a fool's errand, Uncle, you have said it yourself!" he cried. Somehow he found the strength to sit up and stared out at the glaciers passing by, his eyes emptying themselves of any traces of his emotional outburst.

"Prince Zuko. Try to understand that you and I are not the same as everyone else. That was Zhao's way of honoring his own death. He could have accepted help from you, a banished prince of the Fire Nation, or accepted his own grave. The former option seemed unreasonable to him as far as his honor went. You have defeated him twice in battle and you have freed the Avatar from his clutches once." Iroh followed his nephew's gaze, watching the beautiful ice formations travel slowly past them. "It was easier for him to accept death than it was for him to accept help."

Zuko stood up rather unsteadily, his weariness threatening to send him back down to the punishing wooden deck of the makeshift ship. Iroh put a hand out for support, though, and he clung to it, standing himself up next to his uncle with determination. Both men silently stared out across the ocean as the wind pushed the tiny raft away from the source of their pain.

It was bearable, though, Zuko decided, with his uncle by his side.

---

Aang sat in Appa's saddle and clutched the reins tightly, trying to keep his mind on piloting the giant ten-ton bison through the cloudy sky. It was hard, though. Hard to keep his other thoughts from spilling over into his head. He wanted to forget the destruction that he had seen, but he couldn't do it.

He wanted Sokka's broken heart to heal. He wanted Katara's grieving over the losses she had suffered in her sister tribe to cease. He wanted to go back in time. Fix the pain he had caused both of them. Fix the pain he had caused the whole tribe.

He was the Avatar! What kind of Avatar would allow so much suffering to come into the world? Aang tried to remember Katara's words. He could see the acorn, he could feel her hand on his, wrapping his fingers tight around the tiny seed. He could feel how warm her hand was. But he couldn't remember what she had said. Nothing popped into his head. No amazing revelation.

He couldn't stop Zhao from killing the coy fish. From killing the Moon Spirit. From killing Yue. The lives lost at the attempted siege were irreplaceable. He could have fought harder. Katara had told him that things always turned out how they were supposed to, but then why was Sokka forced to suffer for his loss? How many times had he been told that he controlled his own destiny? And if that was the case, wasn't he directly responsible for how things turned out, no matter if they were supposed to or not?

Too many questions. He didn't have the mental strength to answer any of them now. It was taking every effort he had just to keep their group of three together. At first he had tried to talk to the two Water Tribe members. Katara seemed fine, but that was just her, he had assumed. Sokka had spoken for a while. He had even cracked a smile and laughed when Aang had done a bad impression of Han. But now there was a silence between the three that Aang was somehow craving and despising at the same. He needed the quiet to calm his rebellious thoughts. He needed the conversation to keep from drifting too far away from the other two.

"Aang!" Katara called to him, bringing him out of his deep thought. He turned to face her, hands still on the reins, eyebrows raised. "We're almost to Bah Sing Se. Only a matter of minutes before we can touch down. Just thought I should let you know." Aang smiled and turned back to the path in front of him. The clouds were thin and scattered widely, painting an extremely pretty picture against the blue mid-afternoon sky. His breath caught at the sight. Hesitantly, he turned and faced Katara again.

"What was that you said around the Winter Solstice?" he asked. "When I was sad because the forest had been burned, you said something to cheer me up. What was it?"

Katara smiled gently at him. "I told you that the acorn would grow into an oak tree again. The forest would grow back. It's going to be the same way with us, too, Aang," she said. "We're tired and we're struggling with our emotions after what happened up north, but we will be healed in due time. Everything that happened there happened for a reason."

Aang nodded silently and turned back around. He made a vow right then and there to keep Katara's words foremost in his mind whenever his doubts sprang back up again. He would be healed. So would Sokka, and so would she.

The pain would be bearable, Aang decided, with his friends by his side.