I'm not leaving you.
"Oh, spirits, Zuko. . ." Sokka smoothed the blanket already pulled over Zuko - gently, so as not to put any pressure on his cracked ribs, the slash wound across his chest, or any of the dozens of bruises and scrapes and smaller wounds all over him. "Oh. . ."
Sokka hadn't been there when the assassins - only the latest attempt - cornered Zuko earlier; Zuko's guards hadn't been with him either, these had been good. Good enough to separate the royal guards from their Fire Lord, good enough to be a dangerous threat to Zuko . . . good enough to nearly kill him.
Sokka bit his lip, turning away and heading for the pitcher and cup left on the table across the room, covering his mouth. He swallowed against the lump in his throat, his chest aching, and hot tears spilling down his cheeks.
"Sokka." Zuko said behind him, voice a little rough.
Sokka caught his breath and scrubbed at his face before giving up on it - Zuko no doubt knew he was crying already anyway. He moved quickly closer, leaning over his fiancé again. "Yes, love?" he asked, reaching instinctively for Zuko's hand and then stopping, because it was battered and scraped up pretty badly from the fight.
Zuko caught hold of his hand and Sokka froze, wanting to disengage - he didn't want to hurt Zuko - but not wanting to pull back from him.
Zuko smiled slightly, mouth a little crooked, pulled by the scabbed over tear just below his lower lip at one corner. "I'm not leaving you, darling." he said, and Sokka's breath caught in his throat, choking painfully.
Zuko almost had. Sokka loved him so much and he had nearly died today and there wouldn't even have been anything Sokka could do. Sokka sobbed roughly, collapsing to the edge of the bed, his legs giving out. "Zuko."
"Sokka. . ." Zuko rubbed his thumb over Sokka's knuckles. "I'll be all right."
Sokka took in a rough breath, kissing the back of Zuko's hand and daring to squeeze it a little tighter in his own. "I know you will, love." he said, pressing his cheek against the backs of Zuko's fingers. "I just- I love you so much. I was . . . afraid, when they told me what happened. When we found you. . ."
Zuko had been in the centre of a cracked, blackened circle on the stone street, barely propped up on one knee and slouched over a broken crate. Barely conscious, too. There had been a handful of other bodies scattered around as well, Zuko's attackers, a mix of unconscious and dead, all at his hands.
His guards had been beside themselves with guilt and regret at their failure, not even able to find him - to catch up with him - in time to help. They were currently filling the palace, more of them than were normally assigned stationed at every post anywhere near Zuko, inside and out, and more of their number were searching the lower city for the rest of the assassins and for whoever had sent them.
"Sokka." Zuko squeezed his hand again, a little weaker this time.
Sokka kissed his fingers again. "Yes, love. I'm sorry."
Zuko smiled. "Could you stop fretting, and come lie down with me?" he asked, giving Sokka a hopeful look.
Sokka started to take a breath, then stopped, licking his lips. "Of course." he said, pulling on the best smile he could. He petted Zuko's hand lightly as he released it, then rose, sliding off his boots and belt before climbing into bed carefully beside his fiancé.
Zuko sighed, looking down his body pointedly, and Sokka paused, then rose again, stripping down to just his loose pants before returning. "Better." Zuko said as Sokka settled at his side, propped up a bit on one elbow.
Zuko reached up, tracing his fingers over the thick silk of Sokka's necklace.
Sokka smiled at him, twining his fingers carefully through Zuko's before lying down properly with him. "I'm . . . so glad you're safe." he said, the words a little thick in his throat, and kissed Zuko's battered knuckles.
At this point assassination attempts are hardly something new - though less common than they were when Zuko was newly-crowned - but Zuko does not usually wind up facing them entirely alone, either.