Disclaimer: As always, the pool belongs to Brian, Mike, Viacom, & Nickelodeon. I'm just playing in it.

Though they were curious about the Prince's status, the warriors continued about their business; if it was important to their survival, the Chief would tell them immediately. If it wasn't, they'd all have to wait 'till night fall for the gossip to spread. Katara tried to keep monitoring Zuko's condition, but Toph convinced her that she would be a lot more helpful were she rested. So here the four of them were, around the fire again and eating whatever Sokka hadn't gotten to yet.

For a long while they sat, and ate, and thought about what they'd seen. Toph was unnerved by this newest close encounter with death. Heck, she was still unnerved by the injuries Katara's old boyfriend suffered under Lake Laogai. They still didn't know if Jet survived; after beating Long Feng they went back for him. He was gone, as were Smellerbee and Longshot. All Toph could think about now was the feeling of a person's heartbeat and breathing fading, the body approaching stillness. She instinctively scooted a little closer to Sokka.

Aang was trying to understand. He'd seen the bleached bones of his friend and mentor at the Southern Air Temple. He knew that in some fights, if you didn't kill your enemy, you'd lose. He knew that most people who practiced violence killed far more often than was necessary. And he knew there was a spirit world, and that somehow existence continued after death. But he couldn't figure out why someone would throw their lives away. There was always another way. Like Monk Gyatso said; "In any given situation, one possible choice is to go to Omashu. It may not help anything, but it's an option."

He asked the others "I don't get it. Why would someone end their own life?"

"Honor." Sokka responded quietly. He'd asked Iroh what the symbols from earlier meant. They were an old Fire Nation script; in fact it looked like Zuko tried to reenact an ancient ritual, once used to restore a disgraced noble's honor, and outlawed for nearly two hundred years. The marks on the ground listed his failures; the marks on his arms were the names of those he felt he'd disgraced. "He's a traitor to his country, a traitor to his family, and he failed to complete his mission. That much shame is something a warrior can't bear. To him, death is better."

"So he leaves his uncle to grieve?!" snapped Katara. "It sounds like selfishness to me."

He felt safe. And warm

He savored the sensation for a few moments, and then surrendered again to sleep.

He didn't open his eyes at first. Just tried to enjoy the sensation. The warmth. The soft blanket, the crackling fire, the surf pounding gently nearby. Hmm... he'd always heard the spirit world was supposed to be beyond earthly sensation. Maybe this was some kind of transition, a way for the newly-dead to acclimate? Oh, right. Opening his eyes might give him some answers.

Heavy cloth. A sail? A tent. Ahead of him, but he couldn't tell how far. He reached out for it, found raising his arm hard. So he must be lying on his back and reaching up. Before his fingertips could brush the fabric, a pair of short, somewhat calloused hands grasped his gently. They were comforting, but the scratchy voice was uncertain.

"Zuko?"

Just to his right, Uncle's face came into focus, concern and worry etched into every line. But why should Uncle worry; they should be free here. Come to think of it, what was Uncle doing here? He shouldn't be dead yet. Something wasn't adding up.

"Uncle, where are we?"

"Safe. And with friends."

That was an evasive answer, even for Uncle.

"Am I dead?"

Uncle's face was heartbroken. After a long pause, he answered "No."

Exhaustion overtook Zuko, and he surrendered unconditionally.

Two days passed. The camp learned of the Prince's revival. Nobody called it "recovery," since he took only the barest of food and water, only left his tent for his body's necessities, and said nothing at all. Iroh had agreed to join the Avatar and serve as his firebending instructor. The camp was preparing to break, and various groups were planning to rally the Avatar's allies and rendezvous in three weeks' time.

Hakoda promised himself he would have a serious talk with his children about respecting others' privacy. In the meantime, he wished his daughter would get her elbow out of his ribs so he could concentrate on what the general and his nephew were saying.

"...protected the town, and they still turned on me the moment they found out who I was." The young prince was speaking loudly now, and seemed to only be picking up steam. He even interrupted his uncle.

"Then-"

"Where would you have me go? The Earth Kingdom despises me, even when I help it, I took an old woman hostage at the South Pole, attacked the defenders of the Moon Spirit at the North Pole, and shamed my own home long before I betrayed it."

"Zuko-"

"Why didn't you let me die?! This world doesn't want me in it; who am I to argue?!"

"I want you in it! And so did your mother!"

A pause when Zuko was too stunned at her mention. Iroh continued more quietly, and forcefully. "Did you forget what she gave up so that you would live? In throwing your life away, you would have let her sacrifice mean nothing."

A dark silence followed. As footsteps approached the tent flap, everyone scattered. They all had the courtesy to pretend to be doing something else; Hakoda following Aang and Katara's fascinated gases to a completely blank patch of sky, while Toph had pulled Sokka by his bone necklace down to her eye level threateningly. But Iroh didn't notice, he simply walked slowly to the sea.

The kids resumed getting Appa's bath ready, while Hakoda went back to the ships, and the knowing, slightly reproachful look of Batto.

Night had fallen, and Uncle wasn't back yet. Zuko's thoughts had been tied up since they argued.

He remembered what Azula told him about Father sacrificing him to appease Fire Lord Azulon's wrath.

Dad's gonna kill you.

That smoldering, quiet, vicious smile.

No, really. He is.

He's since told himself; Azula always lies.

Later that night, Mother came into his room, wearing a traveler's cloak and saying goodbye. He wasn't old enough or awake enough to understand. He woke the next morning unsure if it had been a nightmare. He searched the palace for her, but always came to empty rooms and unknowing servants. When he asked Azula, she said only "Mother valued your life more than her own." The words came with the usual subtle menace and implied promise of suffering, but there was something else that shook him; her slightly unsure posture, a look that was almost in her eyes, the ghost of something so un-Azula like, that something had to be horribly wrong.

Zuko had never had a warm and loving relationship with his father. It mostly centered on trying to avoid the man and find the more comforting company of his mother. Someday, he'd make Father proud. None of that mattered now, though. He found him in the gardens Mother frequented, standing solemnly next to the water.

"Where is she?!"

Ozai didn't turn, didn't even start as his son yelled at him for the first time. Only after a few minutes did he speak, and he began so quietly that Zuko thought he was talking to himself.

"Gone. And we'll never see her again in this life." Turning his head to look at his son, he added, "I hope you're worth it."

No more was ever said on the matter.

He missed her.

She called him inexorable. It took a while for him to ask what that meant. She said "However many times it falls, the sun always rises again. And so do you."

These days he heard no praise for his diligence. Uncle only ever told him to stop, to rest, to enjoy the simpler pleasures. And Father took each fall as a personal insult. Every stumble, every misstep was a crime Zuko was accountable for.

Why can't I get anything right?

It would never be enough.

I feel like I let everyone down.

Father... Uncle... Mother... Mai...

If I had stayed I would have known it wasn't Suki, and none of this would have happened.

If he had just... Wait, who's Suki?

"Sokka, you can't blame yourself for everything. You're just one man."

Oh, some of that conversation was outside the tent, not in his head.

"But Dad, if I'd stayed-"

"You had no reason to. You can't see the future, none of us can."

"I'm supposed to be the smart one. I feel like I should have seen this coming, or seen a way around it, or... something." He sounded defeated.

"Son, we can only do the best we can with what we've got. You've used your talent, your cunning, to keep the Avatar and your sister safe, and you've had whole armies hunting you. You've pulled off more than a few victories against all odds. When you have had setbacks, you kept at the problem until it was solved. And you came back to me alive. I couldn't be prouder to call you my son."

Is this what fathers say?

"Now, come on. Let's quit worrying about what might have been and focus on what will be." The sound of retreating footsteps left the Prince alone again, surrounded only by darkness and his thoughts.

As they walked away, Hakoda and Sokka shared a conspiratory wink. And a tear.

Iroh returned to camp as the others prepared for bed. When he reached the tent, the flap opened. "Zuko?" Everyone else turned to look.

The prince walked slowly out, turning toward his uncle. He looked like he awoke from a nightmare or had just returned from being lost in the desert. When he spoke, it was with great effort, as someone who didn't quite know how to speak.

"Uncle? Father... betrayed me... didn't he?"

Iroh was saddened by the painful simplicity. "Long ago."

Zuko turned away, walking toward the shore. His eyes stared far away, not seeing the warriors around him. He didn't even stop at the large fire pit; his bare feet walked across the dying embers with no effect. He didn't stop until the tide lapped at his feet, the cold water splashing him back awake. Looking to the horizon, something boiled up within him. His head rose, he drew a breath, and as he shouted, every campfire and torch leaped up in chorus.

"I FOUND THE AVATAR!!"

Everyone held their breath. Batto was sure the kid had lost it for good, and they'd have to find a monastery to dump him in.

When he turned back, his steps were sure, his posture straight and regal, and his eyes were as determined and focused as they'd ever been. And every step back, those eyes were trained directly on Aang. Katara, Sokka, and some of the other Water Tribe assumed defensive stances.

Stopping within a few feet of the young monk, the prince said "Avatar."

...and kow-towed with all the poise his Uncle showed earlier.

"My great-grandfather, Firelord Sozin, ordered your people hunted to extinction. For that, I am sorry." He sat up, then lowered his head again. "I have hunted you, and endangered people you care about, since your return. For that, I am sorry." He sat there, silent, forehead on the ground, unmoving. After a moment, Aang ventured,

"Um... that's okay."

Seemingly satisfied, the prince turned to Katara and Sokka. "I attacked your village, held one of your tribesmen hostage, and have never shown you your due respect as warriors. For that, I am sorry." He bowed again.

"We accept your apology, Prince Zuko." Katara shot her brother a death-glare before he could add a snide comment to her dignified response.

Zuko turned to the next person. "I have... not met you, have I?"

The short girl tilted her head. "Not formally. Toph." She waived.

"Zuko." He waved back. Then he returned his attention to the Avatar. "I hunted you in the belief that I could regain my honor in my father's eyes. I know now that my father understands nothing of honor. He is a bully, who scarred and banished his own son for talking out of turn. The means by which he came to the throne are also in question. He is unfit to be Firelord, and with your permission, I would like to join you." His head wasn't on the ground, but his eyes were cast to Aang's feet.

Standing, the younger boy switched into "The Avatar" mode-his solemn look and voice he put on when he thought what he was about to say would get recorded on a scroll somewhere-put his fist into his flattened palm, and bowed. "Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, I accept your apology, and gladly welcome your company on our quest."

Zuko stood again, returning the Avatar's bow and salute.

Then both boys raised their heads and looked at each other.

After a moment of awkward silence, a slightly unsure Zuko said "So... now what?"

Of course, Sokka had the idea. "Now, we celebrate! Hey Katara, do we have any more of that candied gingerplumb left?"

"No, Sokka, you ate it all." Zuko guessed by her tone that she said stuff like that a lot to her brother.

Then the chief piped up. "We've got a few sea prunes left." Aang grimaced, and tried to subtly signal to Zuko the dish was as tasty as it sounded.

Then Toph said something, which was met by a proposal from Uncle for tea, and so it went.

Tomorrow, he would help reduce the supplies so Appa could carry his added weight. He would come to like Toph's forwardness, and only learn she was blind after he tossed a pack at her head. He would try to give his dagger to Chief Hakoda as a gesture of thanks, which the Chief would refuse, saying a good dagger was invaluable, and that ensuring Sokka and Katara's safety would be thanks enough. Tomorrow, he would expect dark days ahead.

Tonight, he was content to know he had made the right choice.

Finished on a rainy night in Xi'an, China.

Sorry for the delay. Had moving and connection issues. And I still haven't figured out formatting on this thing, so I apologize for any difficulties this has caused. Constructive criticisms, particularly regarding pace, are always welcome.