AN: this chapter contains the description of a panic attack in detail.

"In many ways I'm the burden that divides us from the light.

In many ways you're the halo that keeps my spirit alive." The Chosen Pessimist, In Flames

Xx

Everything hurts. Zuko would be sure he's dead if everything didn't hurt. Things don't hurt when you're dead (he doesn't think they do, anyway). He groans, and movement to his right startles him enough for him to try to pry his eyes open. He hears a gasp, and when he manages to peel his eyelids apart, the first thing he sees is a beautiful woman with the bluest eyes he has ever seen.

"Gran gran!" She yells, and Zuko winces at the noise. "He's awake!" She turns back towards him, putting a hand on his chest. "Don't move, okay? We found you half frozen out there! Your body's been through a lot, so just relax." At this point, he would do whatever she asked. As far as he is concerned, a gorgeous woman with features he has never seen before saved him from certain death, and he owes her his life.

"Where am I?" He manages to croak out a few words, but his throat is incredibly dry, and his voice is scratchier than usual. He closes his eyes against the light, and he doesn't see the woman blush.

"You're in the South Pole. My brother, my friend, and I found you out on an ice floe in the ocean with a storm coming in. You're lucky to be alive." Her voice is full of concern, and try as he might, he can't remember the last time someone sounded like they actually gave a shit about him that wasn't his uncle.

"You saved my life." He opens his eyes again and looks at the woman.

"Well, it wasn't just me. I wouldn't have even been able to get you back here without the help of my brother and my friend Aang."

"What's your name?" He sees her blush this time, and if he wasn't half dead he would probably be blushing too, as much as he hates to admit it.

"Katara," she says softly, like her name is fragile and could break at any moment. He decides that he loves the sound of her voice.

"Katara." More blood rushes to her cheeks, darkening the color from pink to red, and damn if she isn't adorable. "I owe you my life. You and your brother and friend."

She shifts awkwardly for a moment before asking, "what's your name?"

"Zuko." He gives her the truth before he can even think about the consequences, but she doesn't seem to recognise his name.

"Zuko." The sound of his name coming out of her mouth makes him feel tingly and strange, like he's a gangly, awkward teenager all over again.

At that moment, an old, wrinkly woman walks into the space they occupy holding a cup of steaming liquid. Katara takes the liberty of introducing them. "Gran gran, this is Zuko."

Something indistinguishable flashes in the old woman's eyes, but it's gone before Zuko can make sense of it. "You gave us quite a scare, young man."

"I apologize." Zuko manages to prop himself up on his elbows so that he can dip his head in an attempt to bow. "Your hospitality is greatly appreciated. I am in your debt."

"Such proper language!" He swallows, hoping he hasn't given himself away, but the old woman continues. "Drink this. I can't promise it tastes very good; we haven't been able to get any proper tea in years."

At the mention of tea, Zuko's heart clenches. "Thank you, ma'am." He takes the cup, but doesn't drink. "You haven't seen a ship anywhere out there, have you? I was traveling with my uncle and our crew when a storm knocked me overboard."

The old woman waves her hand in a motion for Zuko to drink; the tea is strong and much too bitter, nothing like his uncle's various flavors. "No ship has come close enough for us to see as of yet. And call me Kanna." She moves away to put her hand on Katara's shoulder. She whispers something that Zuko can't hear, but with the way Katara looks at the woman with confusion on her face, Zuko knows that it can't be good for him. "Rest up young man. I'm sure your uncle and your crew are searching for you as we speak." With that, she ambles out of the space, pushing aside a thick flap of hide that must connect to another room, and disappears.

"How are you feeling?" Katara asks.

Zuko continues to drink the tea, bitter as it is, and he feels his inner fire greedily soaking up the heat as he starts to warm up. "Better." He sees Katara's eyes dart downwards, and the realization that he is without a shirt makes his face flush. "Um, where's my shirt?"

"Oh!" Her hand comes up to cover her mouth in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, we had to take it off because it was wet and we needed to warm you up." She gets up and makes her way over to a table where he sees his clothes and shoes laid out. "I tried to get all the water out, but I figured I should focus more on your pants." His eyes blow wide at the thought of her taking off his pants while he was unconscious, and her face turns a pretty pink color as she blushes. "Oh my gosh, not like that!" She stretches her hands out in front of her in a placating gesture as Zuko takes a deep breath. "I'm a water bender. I'm not very good— there are no other benders down here so I don't have any actual training. I focused on your pants so that we didn't have to take them off."

"Oh." Zuko feels his heart slow down as she explains. "Uh, thank you. For that."

"Yeah." She brings over his shirt and holds it out to him. "It feels dry now, so… here."

He trades her his empty cup for the shirt, but when he tries to sit up fully, he realizes how weak he still is. Katara must see it on his face, because she rushes to help him sit up. If he didn't feel so awful he would probably be distracted by her hand on his back, but as it is, he has to focus all his attention on moving, having to use her other hand in his to pull himself upright.

"Thank you." He manages to pull his shirt on without her help, to his relief, but as he looks up he sees her staring. He realizes that his shirt is a deep red, and he knows he has given himself away.

"You're Fire Nation," she says with a dull inflection. It is not a question, but a statement.

"Yeah..." He pulls on the threads at the hem of his shirt. He knows by now the thoughts the rest of the world has of the Fire Nation, and he is not surprised that the only waterbender in the whole Southern Water Tribe harbors some ill will towards his people.

"You were warm when we found you." Looking into Katara's eyes, he sees that she already knows the answer to her next question. "Are you a firebender?"

He takes a deep breath; this, he's noticed in his time spent among the common people of the other nations, is what usually drives people away. But he can't deny it now.

"Yes."

The silence that follows is tense. The look that crosses Katara's face is dark and haunted, and Zuko lowers his head. He has enough sense to feel shame about the things his nation has done to the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes, but he didn't think he would care this much about the opinion of one girl.

"I guess that explains why you survived." He looks up at that, surprised that she hasn't started screaming or stormed out of the room. She must see his disbelief on his face as she continues. "Your scar, it's a burn mark." He flinches as he angles his head away from her. His scar is still something that he is sensitive about; he doubts he will ever truly accept it. "The Fire Nation killed my mother in a raid when I was eight years old. She was protecting me from them. But," she gestures to his face, "you've been hurt by them too." He looks back at her, knowing the pain on her face all too well.

"I'm sorry about your mother. I'm sure she was an incredible woman if she sacrificed herself to protect you." He doesn't bring up his own mother. It doesn't seem right to try to empathize with her in that way, at least not now. It's a painful memory that's close to his heart, one he chooses not to share with anyone.

"She was."

Another awkward silence fills the small room, suffocating him in its weight. Just then, a younger bald boy pokes his head through the flap acting as the door.

"Hey! Gran gran told me he was awake, so I thought I'd come say hi!" The boy steps into the room, and Zuko's heart almost stops in his chest.

"Oh, right. Zuko, this is Aang. He's the real reason you're here. I mean, I saw you, but we would have never been able to get you back if it weren't for him. Aang, this is Zuko."

His heart stutters to life and rapidly picks up speed, so much so that he has to fight to not start hyperventilating. There's no way this can be who he thinks it is.

"You…" It's all he can choke out as he takes in the boy's orange and yellow robes, and the blue arrow tattoos on his head and hands. His throat feels like sandpaper, and suddenly he's feeling as if he might faint. "You're… an airbender?"

"Yup! " Aang answers him cheerfully, as if his admission doesn't throw Zuko's entire life into a pan and scramble it around like an ostrich-horse egg.

"So you're the Avatar," he says quietly, and Katara's head whips around to look at Aang, whose face has paled and taken on a guilty look.

"Wait, what?" Katara's voice is high pitched due to her confusion, a crease between her brows as she stands up to look at Aang. "What does he mean "you're the avatar"? Is that true?"

Aang looks sheepish, so much so that Zuko would feel bad for outing him if his entire world wasn't crashing and burning inside his head.

"It's true," Aang admits sheepishly. Katara lets out a long exhale, and sits back down. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I was going to, but—"

"Guys!" Zuko is glad for the interruption as a young man who looks like Katara (it must be her brother) bursts in through the flap acting as a door. "There's a Fire Nation ship coming towards us!" He looks down at Zuko as if just remembering that he exists. "Oh, you're up."

Zuko really does think he might faint now. "Uncle!"

He throws the hides back off of his legs and almost falls on his face as he gets his socks, shoes, and overshirt back on as fast as possible. Before anyone can protest, he is running out into the cold polar air to see the ship for himself. Lo and behold, a Fire Nation ship— his Fire Nation ship— is moving towards the little village. His chest is heaving, his breaths a staccato beat shoving steam out of his mouth with each exhale. He can feel his anxiety clawing up his throat like bile, his over stimulated brain trying desperately to comprehend everything that's happened in the last five minutes. No, not here! Not now! He's had anxiety attacks before, but this is not the state in which he wants his uncle to see him. His vision swims in front of him, and he feels himself start to sway on his feet, still gasping for breath.

"Hey, hey!" Katara catches up to him as he begins to fall, and she puts her body in front of his to keep him upright. "I can't believe you just ran out here like that, you're still healing!"

Her words sound like they're traveling through water before they reach his ears. Somehow they work together to sling his arm around her shoulder and get him back inside onto the bed without him collapsing. She places him down on the edge and shoos the others back out of the room as he continues to hyperventilate.

He's still trying to wrangle his breathing when Katara crouches down in front of him so that she is almost at eye level. "Hey, Zuko, it's okay, it's just me." He somehow finds her eyes through the fog of panic and does his best to focus on them. "You're safe, okay? It's just me." She must be familiar with what's happening to him, because she knows exactly what to say. She takes his hands in hers; they're cool and soft, and Zuko holds them tight to try and ground himself. His breaths eventually slow as the anxiety gripping him starts to fade. He had moved so his head was pressed into Katara's shoulder, and he lifts it up to look at her.

"Sorry." His voice is quiet and scratchy, and the look in Katara's eyes is one of concern. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." She rubs her thumb across the back of his hand, soothing him as his breathing returns to normal, and they sit in silence for a moment as she calms him down. He hasn't been touched by anyone like this in a long, long time; he feels vulnerable, but also strangely comfortable. He refuses to follow that train of thought, knowing it won't lead anywhere productive.

"My uncle is on that ship." He moves to stand up, Katara following him in case he falls. "I need to see him." She nods and leads him back out into the cold. The ship is just lowering it's ramp onto the snow a ways out from the village. He can see the young man from before, Katara's brother, is standing with Aang (the fucking Avatar) and the old woman, Kanna. He and Katara slowly make their way forward, making sure that he doesn't over exert himself and almost pass out again. A few people walk down the ramp off of the ship, the one in front undeniably his uncle.

"Uncle!" he calls out, and his uncle runs towards him. Zuko lets go of Katara and manages to take a few steps before his uncle envelopes him in a strong hug.

"Zuko!" His uncle is crying, and Zuko is finding it hard to hold back tears himself. "I thought I had lost you, my son."

"It's alright uncle, I'm here." As they hold each other, Zuko hears one of the other men who had been walking with his uncle call to the others on the ship.

"The prince is alive!" Damn it.

"Wait, prince?" Katara's brother sounds surprised. "He doesn't look like a prince." Zuko assumes he wasn't supposed to hear that part, and takes some joy in hearing the man yelp as if someone stomped on his toes.

"You didn't tell them who you are," his uncle mumbles, still holding Zuko as he sighs.

"No. I told them my name, but that's it."

Iroh hums. "Looks like you have some explaining to do."

Zuko groans as he lets go of his uncle, who is smiling at him with wet eyes. He smiles back, and they both turn to the small group of people watching them.

"I can't thank you enough for helping my nephew. We are forever in your debt." They both bow, and Zuko hopes that they won't ask any questions.

"You're a prince?" But of course, things are never that easy for him. The Avatar looks innocent enough when he asks, and if it's true that he has been missing for the last 100 years (and hasn't aged a day, apparently), Zuko can't blame him for not knowing what he is truly asking.

"Yes." He looks at Katara when he answers, wincing when he sees her face; it's contorted into an uncomfortable mix of confusion and anger.

"You're the prince of the Fire Nation." Katara's voice is emotionless, and Zuko wishes nothing more than to go back in time to when she was blushing at the side of his bed and not looking at him like he kicked her polar dog puppy. He understands, though, that he probably deserves it.

"Yes." He takes a deep breath. "But I pose no threat to you. I am not here on behalf of my family. We separated from them years ago." At that, Katara's face shifts more towards confusion, anger still simmering beneath the surface.

"I didn't even know the Fire Lord had a son." Katara's brother speaks up, a hard edge to his voice.

"That's not surprising." Zuko tries not to sound like a moody teenager when he says it, but he can't keep all of the disdain out of his voice.

"My brother cast us out of the fire nation many years ago," Iroh explains, and Zuko is glad that he is taking over; the less he talks, the better. "We want nothing from you, and we are in your debt. We wish to leave your village peacefully and head back north to repair our ship." There is silence for a long moment. Zuko notices Kanna making strong eye contact with his uncle, although it doesn't hold any hostility. Old people are weird.

"You'd best be on your way," the old woman says and waves her hand as if shooing them. "Don't want another storm bringing you back to us."

"Thank you, my lady." Iroh bows deeply, Zuko doing the same after a beat.

Kanna, the Avatar, and Katara's brother turn around and begin to walk back towards the village. Iroh touches Zuko's arm and turns around as well, heading back to the ship. But Zuko is rooted to the spot, staring at Katara, who is staring right back. He feels like he should say something, but he doesn't know what. Tension sparks between them, so strong that he can almost hear it crackle in the cold air. She bites her lip, and he opens his mouth to speak, when his uncle calls from behind him.

"Zuko!"

He closes his mouth, takes a few steps backwards while keeping eye contact with Katara, and then turns around to head back to the ship. He doesn't look back to see her watching him the whole way.

Xx

"Uncle, that boy is that Avatar!" They are back on his ship, getting farther from the South Pole every minute.

"Yes, he is." Iroh sips his tea as if the words Zuko just said didn't mean a thing to him. "And we are now sailing away from him."

Zuko groans and puts his head in his hands. "He saved my life! I literally owe him a life debt. How can I bring him back to my father? He'll lock him up forever!"

Iroh puts his hand on Zuko's shoulder, and he looks down into his uncle's kind eyes. "Destiny works in funny ways, my nephew. I suggest that for now, you rest, and we tackle this issue tomorrow."

Zuko goes back to his chambers, changes into his sleep clothes, and gets into his plush bed. As weary as he is, his mind is running around in circles; the last seven years of his life have been dominated by the desire to capture the Avatar, and Zuko just left him on that hunk of ice. Katara's eyes swim around his head, and he doesn't find sleep for a very long time.