Author's Warning

Do not eat before or while you are reading this chapter. There is material in this chapter that could turn your stomach.

Ch. 4- A Different Task

Song

I don't think I've appreciated my pillow before just as much as I do now. I ignore the sunbeams hitting my face. My night has been pretty hectic.

First, I had to run back to camp. Then I had to undergo a background check. I ran back to camp to find that I was given no credit for the Zuko's rescue. That was expected. Then I peeked in on him. He's a very restless sleeper. Finally I ran to my tent while trying to avoid waking anyone up. Certainly not an easy feat. Now I'm here and it's probably 6:00 in the morning. I'll only be able to sleep for a couple of hours. War certainly takes a toll on you. I sink deeper into my comfortable pillow and try to dose off. How strange that I can be so exhausted, but my night's excitement will not allow sleep!

"He will need to recuperate for a few days before he can reenter the battlefield." I hear coming from outside my tent. He is obviously talking about Zuko. Curious my attention shifts from trying to fall asleep to attempting to hear the conversation.

"Surely he will protest. I have heard he is very stubborn."

"He will have to agree. He will not be able to walk on his left leg without rupturing the stitches for a few days at least."

The man sounds happy about this. He must be the over-zealous healer that took all the glory. However, their conversation bores me. I had thought of this as I checked on Zuko a few moments ago. My eyelids close, and I feel peaceful.

"He will need someone to take care of him after he leaves our care"

"Good idea."

--

Zuko

Being a firebender has its disadvantages. I rise with the sun. Today, I feel exhausted. Though this is my first real slumber in weeks, this is strange. Usually the sun gives me energy. I attempt to sit up despite a sharp pain in my side only to look right into a pair of hazel eyes. My heart practically stops, and I fall backwards in the process bumping part of my head on the wall.

"You okay?" she asks while she rushes to my bed.

"Fine." I brush her hands away.

I rub the back of my head and look at her. She's clad in a pale orange sleeping gown and her hair is pulled back in a braid just like when we first met. I may have been wrong in my previous assessment of her looks.

"Would you like me to help you sit up?" She asks. She reminds me of a timid rabbit because she's afraid to touch me. I feel a little guilty.

"Sure." she offers a hand, I grasp it, and she puts her other hand on my back, and gently eases me up.

I'm surprised by my frailness. Song notices my startled expression.

"You've been asleep for two days. You lost a lot of blood." She says matter-of-factly, shrugging her shoulders and then grabbing a few pillows to prop me up. She makes her way to the door.

"I'll tell them that you're up." Then she smiles and makes an exit. Soon a pair of nurses walks in. Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Both are carrying trays full of food. Good I'm famished. They hand me a bowl of oatmeal. I stare at it distastefully, but gobble most of it down. I feel bored. I lean back on the pillows and think.

Now that my father is gone, Azula will be crowned.

"When can I leave?" I ask the nurses before they leave the room. They look at each other.

"I'll answer that." It's the bald healer with the uncanny grin. I frown at him, but his annoying smile widens. He probably assumes his 'favorite' patient is merely grumpy.

"General, I will allow you to leave no sooner than a week. You took quite a nasty wound on your side and your injury on your leg will require the use of a cane for a while."

"Damn" I mutter. He's not finished. "You will need someone to make sure your leg recovers. I would be happy to offer my services." Hell no.

Rather than argue a thought occurs to me.

"I'd prefer if one of the nurses would accompany me." I say acting like it's my last request and just for dramatics, I close my eyes.

"Who?" The man's smile isn't dissipating.

"Song." I say simply.

"Certainly" the doctor says more courteously than expected "Of course she'll have to report to me."

"Fine" I comment. I still can't get rid of him.

"I'll send someone to tell her."

--

Song

"What!" I struggle to maintain my hold on the jar of burn ointment.

"You're already packed." Tai points out and grins at me. It's the truth. Our camps' healers need to be on hand further west. I long to slap him, something I would never do unless provoked. Thankfully, something occurs to me. I voice my thoughts

"Did Zuko ask for me? Did he say why he wants me?" Tai laughs at me. I shuffle my feet.

"You like him don't you."

"No." I say truthfully. I may have had a brief crush on him years ago, but that was pulverized.

I reach for my things again and continue packing. Tai winks at me and leaves my tent. Well at least, I won't have to see more carnage. I decide to leave my tent and pay my patient a visit. As I make my way to the makeshift building where Zuko and other critical patients are kept. Someone is coming out the back. I roll my eyes, and find myself unable to withhold a grin. It is Zuko. I stealthily make my way over to him. Good thing I did because his weak leg collapses. My smile disappears and I grab him by the waist. He's really heavy. I gently lower him to the ground, in the process straining my arm. Zuko has a goofy grin on his face. He doesn't seem like himself.

"Thank you." He manages and laughs. My eyebrows shoot up.

Did they increase his morphine intake?

"You should wait awhile before you try to run away." Something moist is on my hand. I pull a finger away to see dark red liquid. With strength that I didn't know I have, I manage to drag him back into the building and push him up onto his bed. I have to avoid porcelain shards, but throwing away all other caution, I frantically search for cloths. Then once discovering them, press them against his side. I look at his leg. Good no bleeding. I reach for fresh bandages and begin to use them as an adhesive for the cloths on his slightly burst stitches on his side. It must have just buckled under the fatigue. I look up at his face and see an expression that nearly breaks my heart. His mouth is trembling and his eyes are child-like. Something isn't right! I put my hand on his forehead and find that he is extremely hot.

He must be delusional. I think of his weird laughter and his current childlike behavior. He could be poisoned. I look down at the broken shards on the floor as well as some of the porridge that hadn't noticed before.

I search through my pockets for a serum that would make him throw up toxins. I'm so glad that I keep things of this nature in my pockets! I lean his head back, close his nostrils, and pour about a tablespoon of liquid down his throat. I run for a trash can, put it underneath him, and vomit gives way. Thank goodness, he hasn't eaten too much this week. I hold the trash bravely even though my stomach is in knots.

When his heaving stops, he blinks his eyes and his eyes begin to focus. It did not reach his bloodstream.

Relieved, I allow myself to rest my head momentarily on his bed. Who would poison him?

I lift my head to find his gaze on me. His hand is on his head and he has a bit of brownish vomit on his unbuttoned shirt, but his eyes make my heart flutter. His amber eyes convey unmistakable respect. I have never been so flattered in my life.

Somehow, in my flabbergasted state, I manage to ask him, "Why did you ask for me to come with you?"

"I trust you. I don't trust anyone else." He says matter of factly. I swear part of his mouth is arching slightly upward. He is resisting a smile. He shifts his gaze onto his shirt.

"I can't blame you there." I say and I laugh. He does not join the laughter, but at least he's not acting hostile.

He simply says, "I'm not staying here. I'm going to need your help."

"I'll be back with my things."

I think he will be able to be alone for a while, but I don't dally. I fling the rest of my things into a box and grab my already packed suitcase.

---

Author's Note

Go Song! I admire nurses and doctors for their ability to withstand the grossest things. I'm so squeamish that blood sickens me and the sight of my own vomit makes me hurl.

I suppose I better stop talking about these nasty things for now.

I also received a third review! Thanks lying-with-a-smile for your kindness. I'm glad you're liking the story so far.

The next chapter shouldn't disappoint.

Nuclear Kitty