Date Completed: 11 January 2009

Pairing: Sokka/Zuko beginnings. Yay. =]

Disclaimer: Not mine. Still. Darn.

Summary: When Zuko asked to join the Gaang and teach the avatar firebending, he mentioned that there was "not very much time left," and they assumed he meant until Sozin's Comet. But what if there was another restriction on his time –one he hasn't told anyone about? (Much angst, drama llama, and romance-smut. Oh yeah, and a good dosage of omg NOOO! )

AN: Ha, and a Katara POV even. I'm really getting into the extra POV's lately. But I feel it's necessary. I should get used to writing everybody... and Zuko gets dull to write for after a while. Maybe it's his pessimistic attitude (even though he's more of an optimist really. I mean, why else would he track the Avatar around the world for two years?), but I always feel down after righting for him. Toph on the other hand, is VERY fun. =]

SOMETHING TO NOTE: I recently had a hand injury [dog's teeth can be very sharp and very painful], and had to go to the hospital to get it looked at and such. So this chapter is later [and lamer] than I would've liked it to be. I had to cut it off at an awkward time, so I apologize. Next chapter should be better though as my hand will be starting to heal.

When their tribal warriors left two children to take care of a village of the elderly and very small children, both kids had to take on numerous new responsibilities to ensure survival through the harsh winter. Sokka learned how to hunt, fish, and be a man. After that fateful day, he stopped asking to share beds on stormy nights, stopped talking out his feelings when he was sad, stopped needing her... She could only watch her older brother grow up before her very eyes. Sometimes Katara envied how easily her brother had grown and matured to fill the gaping hole that the men had left in all their hearts. Old ladies would comment on how he did so much for the tribe, and how every day he was filling out and starting to look more and more like their father. All the ladies had told her was that she was lucky to have such a strong older brother to protect her. The children looked up to him too, as inspiration for what they would be when they were older, and scampered around his feet every day asking him to show them how to string a bow, how to set the hook, or how to properly tie a knot.

She wished she could ask how to deal with missing their father.

But one day Sokka brought home a miraculously large catch of salmontuna (because he just happened to fall into the corner of a hidden fishing pond), and the shaking and arthritis-riddled hands of the elderly women weren't up to the effort of cutting and cleaning of each slippery fish. Gran Gran had taken her hand and shown her the proper way to go about cutting into it – which portion of the fish had the most fat, where the eggs were and how to not cut into them because they stunk up the tent and turned her hands blue for days, figuring out how to divide it so that a single fish could feed the largest amount of people – and suddenly Katara didn't feel so useless in their small village.

Sure, she had always known that she could waterbend unlike her older brother, but without a proper teacher she couldn't do anything more impressive than swish puddles around. That wasn't a very useful talent in the arctic tundra.

When the Avatar had shown up and needed her help, she was quick to jump on the opportunity. Over the course of the next two years, she had continued to cook and clean for the ever-expanding group, offering her waterbending services to Aang when he started learning, then as a sort of motivator once he was well on his way to mastery. She was doing something amazing that would hopefully help Aang beat the Fire Nation and save the world.

She had never felt so important.

The Fire Nation had taken away her mother. And her father too, as they hadn't seen him since the day of Black Sun. Only their faith in their father's abilities kept them from thinking the unthinkable. And now they had one of the enemy – their very prince – in their home, sleeping in their bed. Okay, so they weren't really their rooms or beds, but they were there first, and he was invading them. Like he had invaded their tribe.

Giving the stew one last stir for good measure, she leaned over and sniffed at the meager findings of squirrelviper and assorted nuts that Sokka had collected after their first confrontation with their new house guest. The squirrelviper was sweet and the nuts were rather shriveled – and she had no way of knowing whether or not it was fully cooked without testing it herself – but it otherwise seemed edible. Maybe I should have Zuko try it first. At least then it won't be a big tragedy if this is poisonous...

She ladeled out half a serving into a wooden bowl, intending to do just that. Vaguely she wondered if this meant she was a bad person.

Suddenly, her brother came flying down the stairs so fast she was surprised he didn't fall and break his neck. Still, he tripped over his own feet and if the other foot wasn't already nearly on the next stair, he would've came tumbling all the way down. She just watched him with the same raised eyebrow that was so common around her klutzy sibling. He ran up to her, gasping and bent over, grasping his knees. He looked up at her with steely blue eyes and she knew it was important.

"Katara!" he yelled, despite standing a foot or two away from her. "You've gotta come quick. It's Zuko."

She let out a huff, temper rising from just the sound of his name. "What'd he do this time?"

"Ugh. Nothing! It's just– I think something's wrong," he threw up his arms, stalking out of the room even as he continued talking to her. A moment later he came back, toting the small, barely used pack containing their medical supplies. Her mind flew off in a million directions – what does Sokka need the first-aid kit for? Did the spoiled prince hurt someone? Was Aang okay? – and she found herself pulling the bag from his arms, practically sprinting up the stairs herself. Sokka trailed behind, still winded from his earlier run to come get her, and she could hear his heavy breathing getting farther and farther away the closer she got to Zuko's new room.

If she had expected billowing flames and smoke clouds to be dominating the hallway, she was mistaken. Toph and Zuko's hallway was identical to how it looked when they deposited the prince there earlier; the only difference being the direction of the shadows the setting sun threw across the gray stone. A particularly impressive orange ray lit up most of his door, and Katara paused in front of it. Behind the serene looking door lay their biggest threat, and she didn't want to go in unarmed. A thumb found the cap to her water pouch, and it slid off smoothly into her palm.

Behind her, Sokka's panting finally started to catch up, and a sturdy hand clasped her shoulder, blue eyes like hers asking if she was alright. She pushed the hand off and threw open the door.

The only person in the room was Zuko.

"Wha– What did you need, Sokka?" Her older brother glanced at her water pouch before gesturing behind her with pointedly looking eyes.

"Well, I did grab the first-aid kit, didn't I?" he grumbled, stalking up to the other boy and plopping down next to him on the bed, much to the surprise of the pale boy already sitting on it. Zuko tensed up and tried not to stare at her brother, but was failing miserably as he glanced over 'discreetly' every half a second. Sokka ignored the other boy's discomfort, grabbing the bottom hem of the prince's shirt and started pulling it up. A spot of purple peeked through.

"What the hell?!" Zuko squawked, reeling back until he was on the other side of the bed, holding his shirt down with his left hand. "How dare you try to–"

"Help you?"Sokka interrupted, reaching out and grasping Zuko's right arm by the elbow, pulling the boy closer to him. "Katara, will you come here for a sec? I need you to do some of your heal-y magic, okay?"

The soft tone cut through the fog that invaded her mind, and she stepped over to them, tentatively sitting on the edge of the bed as far away from Zuko as she could. He looked just about as uncomfortable as she felt.

Sokka took the wrist gently in his hand and Katara noticed that a strip of cloth was tied around the limb tightly, like a makeshift cast. Briefly she wondered how she had looked over that earlier. Usually she was the observant one...

Her brother pulled back the end of the strip and she almost gasped at the lurid purple-black bruise that covered most of the thin wrist.

A stain of purple was pooled around his inner arm, crawling up towards the his fingers and the top of his hand, and while this was disturbing, it was not what Katara was worried about.

Not worried, just sickened of. I don't care what happens to him.

For about a two-inch long section of skin around the wrist bone, there was no purple. Instead, the circle of skin was paper-white, as though it was filled with some kind of pus. Hesitantly she reached, out, placing a few fingers on the white patch. Zuko yelped and pulled his arm back, only to be stopped by Sokka's strong grip on his elbow. Katara, however, didn't need to examine it again; the white wasn't pus, it was the fractured bone pushing up against his skin from the inside. She nodded towards the first-aid kit and Sokka rushed up to get it, leaving the injured boy free to scoot backwards against the wall and away from her. She made no move to stop him.

Before her, the Fire Nation boy sat, knees to his chest and wrist held close to the safety of his body. His eyes were panic-wide, although he gazed out over her left shoulder with a blank look that rivaled Toph's. His breaths came fast and shallow. It was obvious that the new pain to the wound was sending him into shock. Every muscle and fiber of her body screamed at her to do something – to comfort this boy who was hardly much older than herself – and she nearly did before she remembered who he was. What his country had done. What he had done. What he would probably do again if given the chance.

Being a younger sister, she had never had the opportunity to play mother to anyone. When she had joined Aang, then Toph soon after, she had taken advantage of their younger age. Sure, she continually tried to boss Sokka around, but he was finally growing a backbone and standing up to her. She wasn't quite sure if it was because he was brave or just plain stupid, but she still felt the loss of a mind out of her control.

So it was perfectly normal that she'd want to play mom to the injured and exiled son of their enemy, regardless of the fact that he had tried to kidnap and attack them on multiple occasions.

That didn't mean that she liked what her subconscious was telling her to do. It seemed as though seeing Zuko as a real living, breathing, hurting human had broken down some of the rock-hard walls she had constructed to separate his deceiving ways from her soul. She tried to think of him as just some other boy – someone who had been hurt that she could help – instead of the heir to the Fire Nation throne. At least then it would be understandable for her to care for her patient.

Looking away from the quivering boy on the bed, she reached for her water pouch – only to realize it was still open, the cap in her other hand. A stream of water flowed out of the bag and hovered in the air as Sokka finally returned with the medical sack. He tossed it onto the bed and began digging through it, shoving medicines out of the way – some even falling off the bed entirely. Then he found the medical tape, and all that was left was to wrap the boy's arm in it.

As if that's going to be an easy task...

Like his sister, Sokka was also battling with the falling idea of who the firebender really was. For two years the exiled prince had chased him and his sister across the world on a fruitless hunt for the Avatar. Then there was the sweet, semi-innocent boy Katara had sworn was a lie back in the crystal caves – the one they were starting to see again now. This put Sokka on edge. If his good guy act had been just an act back then, what was the difference between then and now?

And here in front of him was a completely different Zuko. The human Zuko, who could feel pain like anyone else.

Well, at least now we know that firebenders aren't invincible, he thought to himself as he handed the tape over to Katara.

"Can you hold him still for me?" she demanded. "He'll probably struggle a bit when I touch his arm again."

Now how to do this... Katara needed to be able to get at his arm, but he didn't want the comatose boy to freak out on his sister, so that meant he needed to get him by the chest... He wasn't the plan guy for nothing, and with gentle hands he gripped the boy under the arms and hauled the unresponsive boy back against his own chest, between his own legs.

Oh wow, he's really warm! That makes sense though, seeing as he's a firebender.

Heat practically radiated from the pale boy. Most of Sokka's chest and his inner thighs – where Zuko's thin body came into contact – simply itched with warmth, and he couldn't help but pull the boy against him more. Anything to feel more of that comforting heat...

A cough to his side brought him back down to Earth, and Sokka hid his blush at her raised eyebrow by ducking his head. Unfortunately that only brought him closer to the raven's hair, and the spicy scent of warm cider filled his nose. His heart pounded, and to his shame he was getting slightly aroused by the warm weight pressed so flushagainst his lap. But his sister was sitting less than a meter away, so he couldn't afford to let his cheeks burn and give away his predicament. She was too young to understand that proximity bred arousal, and did not want this to be the way for her to learn. He would just have to ignore it.

But it was hard (in more ways than one) when the boy was pressed up against his front.

Katara pulled the swirling water tight around her hands like gloves and brought them, shakily, to the firebender's wrist. This time Zuko didn't fight against them, and slumped back against his chest, sighing from the soothing coolness of the water. A raven head dropped back against his shoulder, exposing a long expanse of smooth, pale neck. Too much like Suki's... Sokka groaned, shifting around to try and find a more comfortable position.

"Alright... I think this is as good as I can heal it for now," Katara sighed, pulling away and bending the water back into her bag. "Pass me the tape."

"Yeah, just a.. sec..." he leaned back, blindly reaching for the bag, trying not to disturb the other boy. The other boy who was sleeping, judging by the even breath against the side of his neck. He closed his eyes in concentration and his fingers found the rough material of the roll. He grinned in success. "Ha! Found it–"

"Sokka– don't move."

Katara was staring, transfixed, at the firebender's side. Sokka looked down to where the crimson shirt had slipped up. Exposing the bruise underneath.

"I knew he was hurt somewhere else too!" A glare from his sister told him that this was probably not the right time for his stubbornness, and he made a mental note to pay more attention to his instincts in the future.

Nimble fingers plucked at the silk-covered dragon fastenings, and the shirt fell away, uncovering even more black and purple.

Make that bruises, he thought sardonically.

Gently he worked at wrapping the now yellow and green splashed wrist while his sister applied her water magic to the numerous splotches of black and blue that decorated the boy's side. Zuko didn't wake – probably because he was more unconscious than asleep – and when he was done he cast a critical eye on his work. Working with his patient against his chest had made it more difficult, but the cast was strong and steady, if a bit lumpy.

Not bad given the circumstances.

Katara finished at about the same time, and pushed her bangs out of her face with a shaking hand. The bruises had faded to a disturbing yellow-gold, but there wasn't much else they could do for him at this point. Rib wrappings were notorious for making movement difficult, and they were positive that Zuko wouldn't appreciate being confined to a bed for the next week or two. He would just have to be careful not to jar anything for a few days.

Outside the open windows, the sun was setting low in the sky.

"That's all we can do for him now," Katara said with a tone of finality, standing up and brushing the dust from the old mattress off her pants. "I'm gonna go see if I can salvage dinner. You should let him rest." She walked over to the door, placing a hand on the decaying molding. "I doubt if he'll even remember this in the morning."

Then she was gone.

Sokka glanced down at the boy in his lap. The setting sun painted the room in hues of orange and red, and in that light Sokka could admit that the Fire Nation Prince looked almost vulnerable. High cheekbones, downy hair, soft skin. The face of royalty, or of a child. Something any man would want to protect.

He set the teen down on the bed, suddenly feeling ashamed at the decrepit state of the room for some reason he couldn't explain.

The pain was fading by magical hands and he was being cradled by a soft, warm chest and strong arms. Soft voices conversed overhead, but he ignored them for the most part. They were just mumblings, and he needed concern himself with such things. Especially when he felt so comfortable...

Those warm arms receded and Zuko fought through the fog to try to call them back. He needed them to keep him safe, keep him warm.

But sleep tickled at the edges of his mind, and he found himself drifting down the river Styx in Charon's swaying boat, drifting off into oblivion. He could almost feel a soft hand carding through his hair as the voyage took him farther from consciousness, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

For the first time in years, Zuko felt completely at peace, and he welcomed the setting sun.

It was amazing – what a difference a day could do in healing burned feet. In no way were they up to the level they were at before, but the hard flaky layers were chipping away with every step and she could sense any movement from up to twenty feet away now. She could build – and maintain – a moving rock column for the whole trip back to the temple, or at least she hoped she could. Because it would suck to have to walk all the way back on tired legs. Why did I get talked into this again? Damn pathetic-sounding firebenders...

All her life her parents had tried to keep her like a pet, holed up in a cage of rooms and enclosed courtyards. They hadn't wanted to ever believe that their little girl could ever grow up, much less to grow into such a strong-willed and strong-headed earthbending master. So she had kept her true talent hidden from them.

Then one day some kid had knocked her off her high pedestal and shown her how to truly be a kid. How to live. Him and his followers had been so unique – so different from the monotonous characters of the storybooks her parents insisted the maids read to her – that she just had to go with them. And she hadn't regretted it once. Sure, there were those who wanted to put an end to the Avatar and his companions, but they were usually untrained lackeys to the Fire Nation that did nothing but keep her earthbending a fine-tuned machine.

Except for Zuko.

The exiled prince had had the experience and talent, and every fight involving him had left their group tired and on the run, often nursing battle wounds. Not that he ever came away unscathed either...

Still, it was weird to think that this same guy just decided he didn't want to fight for his country anymore. Especially right after he had just been invited home again. If it weren't for the fact that she could feel that he was telling the truth, she would've instantly believed it a trap. She couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for the rest of the group; they weren't human lie detectors and had to go off her word that he was honestly a good guy now. Sure, they could see with their eyes the color of the sky or know the shape of a rock without touching it first – something she did, albeit rarely, feel envious about – but it couldn't be anything to being so in tuned with the Earth around her that she could feel the vibrations of a squirrel eating a nut a hundred yards away.

But that was beside the point. Because of the protective way her parents had treated her, she had tried to act tougher to compensate for it. She would be the protector from then on. And ironically enough, despite how much she had hated being treated like a fragile doll, someone with a sweet voice or weakness made her go a big softie.

And that was why she was running the ex-prince's errands.

Then again, she didn't do anything without it somehow benefiting her, and she came away from it with new bedding and gifts for the rest of the gang.

Her stone chariot came to a controlled stop before the fountain and sank back into the ground. To her left, Sokka and Katara cut off their argument mid-sentence, and she raised her eyebrow at them. It wasn't like it was the first time she had walked in on them arguing. Sugar Queen threw her arms up with a huff and stalked off, presumably to go find Aang, like she always did when she was upset. Or pissy. Or in any mood other than a generally happy one. Sokka sat down heavily on the edge of the fountain and sunk his head into his hands.

Uh oh. What happened now?

"Oi, Snoozles! Who shoved the stick up her butt, huh?"

He rubbed tiredly at his eyes with both hands. "It's nothing. It's just– Zuko was hurt or something, and we had to help him out. It was pretty bad. We're just not in a real good mood right now, ok?"

"Oh..." hadn't she hurt him the day before? "What was wrong with him?"

"Broken wrist, sprained ribs... he's unconscious upstairs if want to see him. I know you two are... close..."

Toph scowled at the implying tone, but figured she'd go and see Sparky anyway, seeing as it was her fault he was injured. "He's kinda like my slave. My property I guess. And the Bei Fong's keep their property close."

She walked over to the stairs, punching the downtrodden boy hard in the shoulder on her way past. He huffed, but knew better at this point than to fight her on her choice methods of greeting people she liked.

"Oh yeah, and you better put that stuff away before Sugar Queen comes back and sees a mess all over her hard-cleaned floor."

Behind her the 'warrior' groaned, and she took off up the stairs, laughing all the way.

Heaven was a wide, cylindrical white room with ceilings so high they faded into the brightness of the light streaming through the many frosted windows.

Or at least, he assumed it was heaven, because his mother sat before him.

She was seated at a low mahogany table, much like the one in her tearoom, facing him. He stepped forward, and felt the soft swish of silk against his legs – white silk, like his mother's. Ursa smiled knowingly and nodded towards the mat that seemed to appear before his eyes. It was just as comfortable as it looked.

"My son, how you've grown," she she reached out, running a finger along the edge of his jaw. The touch was cool, but comforting, and he leaned into it.

"Mother– I've missed you so much. I don't know what to do without you!"

She rose from her seat, and he nearly cried out at the loss of contact, but then she was coming closer, sitting down in a chair that suddenly appeared beside him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling his head to her chest as he broke down – dissolving into sobs, arms tight around her neck. Fingers carded lightly through his hair, and he sighed, breathing in the faint scent of lilac that had always been his mother since as far back as he could remember.

"You've never lived an easy life, Zuko. From infancy no one thought you'd make it, but you surprised them, didn't you?" She pulled back slightly and tipped his chin up to look into tear-filled amber eyes. "Look at you now – a strong young man, finally on the path to completing his destiny."

Zuko ducked his head away, remembering the two wasted years chasing after the Avatar. Chasing the idea of belonging with his family. His chest burned and brought on a whole new wave of tears that his mother took up easily into the neck of her white silken robe. "But I still don't know – I mean, I feel like I'm doing the right thing, but how do I know?"

"You know because you feel that this is right. You're helping the world now, my son. You have a purpose for being with young Aang, and you're going to make a big difference in everyone's lives. You just have to persevere, even when things get harder, because all suffering has a greater purpose, you understand?" He nodded even though he didn't. She pulled away again and shook his shoulders, gold meeting gold and he couldn't look away. "I know everything is confusing right now, but you must be patient. All things will be explained in time..."

The light grew brighter and brighter until he had to cover his eyes, and he jolted awake, the dark outlines of his room slowly coming into focus.

"Mother..." Already, the details of his dream were slipping through the fingers of his consciousness like smoke, impossible to catch no matter how much he wished he could. All he could remember was the soothing warmth of her embrace and important words, spoken as though through a fog. Something about pain and patience...?

Outside his window, the faintest hint of pink was playing on the horizon, and he knew that sleep would not be returning that morning.

The next few days were awkward, the gaang having no idea how to react to this intruder in their midst (sans Toph of course, who ordered him about at any and all hours of the day), and Zuko trying his best to stay out of everyone's way. This wasn't hard as no one went out of their way to make friends with him either. He was finally allowed out of his room (after Sokka had complained that they were treating him like an animal, something Zuko appreciated greatly), and he took advantage of his newfound freedom. As a firebender, he had always arisen with the sun, but lately he found himself plagued with nightmares, and was often awake well before dawn, despite his body's protests. The sun's first light found him doing stretches on the lowermost floor of their tower, where he discovered received the most direct rays from the sun.

A sort of lethargy had settled among his bones, slowing his Kata work and his fighting impulses. He no longer felt pressured to retort to Katara's sarcastic comments about his ancestry, or Sokka's poking and prodding around his ribs and wrist. Which he had woken the day after injuring to find wrapped heavily in gauzy tape and feeling much better than it would usually. He wasn't stupid, and knew the watertribe warrior had mentioned his stiff posture to his sister, who had helped heal him. Even though he couldn't remember anything more than soft hands and soothing coolness...

That next morning Katara had awoken to find all the morning chores completed, and if her attitude had warmed towards him in the slightest, he didn't make any mention of it.

He had even begun to attempt to teach the Avatar firebending. Attempt, because the boy was too busy trying to make sure Katara was watching him that he only heard about half of what Zuko was telling him.

"For the last time, Avatar, it's breath out as you punch, not in! Ugh, this is useless!" Zuko threw out his arms, ignoring the steam that rose from his fingertips at the action. He had spent the last hour coaching Aang on how to breathe as he bended, so as to not accidentally burn himself. Personally, he'd never seen anyone get injured from incorrect breathing, but it had been something Uncle had drilled into his head ever since he was a young boy, and figured it'd be a good place to start with Aang as well. However, Aang wasn't nearly as receptive to his tutelage as he had hoped.

"I'm an airbender! I would think I know how to breathe, okay?!" Aang retorted, pacing back and forth in front of the fountain. Toph and Sokka– who had seated themselves across the room to watch the spectacle that was Aang's firebending lessons – watched the exchange with mild interest, while Katara perched on the edge of the fountain, hands poised as a ready fire extinguisher should the need arise. "Besides, I already heard all of this from Jeong Jeong, and he didn't help me at all!"

Sokka, perhaps getting annoyed at their arguing, piped up, "Maybe what we – I mean he – needs to see is some class-A fiery magic. Give him a show, will ya?"

"Yeah!" Toph agreed, sitting up from her slouched position against a nearby column as though to better 'see' the promised flames.

He had no reason not to agree, and after a quick glance to the overprotective watertribe girl – who gave an affirmative nod – he shed his shirt and stepped into the center of the 'bending circle' Sokka had etched into the floor as a makeshift dojo or boxing ring. The bruises across his chest were mostly gone by now, and the cast had been removed two days before. Everyone's eyes were on him, but he was a prince.

He was used to being the center of attention.

Sanchin stance, step forward into into horse, then sumo, and finally a quarter spin – more for show than any real purpose – and finish off with a punch laced with burning, devouring fire.

Or at least that was how it was supposed to go.

The roaring inferno had apparently not gotten the memo, for all he got from his effort was a puff of smoke and a small flame, barely bigger than that of a large candle.

Behind him was polite clapping, but he ignored it in favor of inspecting his hands. Smooth, pale white skin, ten fingers, and working digits. Nothing unusual. His firebending had never failed him before... Even with his injured wrist, his flames should have been more impressive. Maybe he wasn't putting enough effort into it?

"I may be blind, but even I could tell that was weak."

"Yeah," Katara agreed. "I may not like the idea of you firebending so close to us, but Aang needs to learn some way. Don't hold back on our account."

He shook his hands and got back into a steady stance. "Yeah... alright. Just don't soak me when it gets hot in here."

This time he foregone the showy moves in favor of a simple punch, pushing everything he had into one massive burst of energy. There was a streak of flames, but still not the intensity he had wanted to display. Aang seemed enthused enough though, and Sokka and Toph were much more sincere in their applause. He, however, felt as though his legs were cooked noodles, and a faint ringing flooded his ears.

He stumbled to the nearest bench, which just so happened to be holding the older male audience member, and sank down onto it, breathing heavily. Sokka raised an eyebrow at him, nudging him in the shoulder with a muscular arm.

"Hey, Zuko, you alright?"

He nodded, regretting the motion as his vision swam. "I-I'm fine... I just... need to rest... for a moment..." for some reason, he couldn't catch full breaths, and each breath was shallower than the one before it.

"Oh shit," the other teen cursed, allowing him to lean on his shoulder, "you're probably still too hurt to do any real exercise yet. You should be resting!"

Zuko snorted, sitting up straighter as his mind started to calm down around him. "I'm fine. Like I said, I just needed to rest. Dealing with you people takes a lot out of a person, you know..."

"Well it's not like you're Mr. Prince Charming either, Your Highness," Katara snarled, dragging Aang and Toph off to go work on some other important bending skill that would hopefully help save the world one day. Just like he planned.

Sokka gave him one last skeptical glance before following after his sister.

The fountain's trickling water was the only witness to his frustration.

Step, punch, huff.

Step, punch, groan.

Step, punch, si–

"–Zuko, maybe you should take a break for a little bit..." Aang suggested from somewhere behind him.

Zuko ignored the advice, throwing his body forward once again to little success. "I can't just sit here idle like you people can." Step, punch, and again no fire. Just smoke. "I need to be doing something or I'm gonna go crazy!"

He'd been practicing a simple firebending punch for nearly two hours now, and although he was able to create fire at will, it was taking nearly three times as much energy as it had before he had joined the gaang.

The younger boy stepped up and placed a comforting hand on the elder's shoulder. "I think Sokka was right; you're just getting over some pretty bad injuries. If you keep pushing yourself, you're going to end up hurting yourself." Zuko shoved the hand off his person and bent into a front stance once again. Aang sighed. "The monks used to say that inward chi cannot be maintained unless physical strength is constantly replenished."

"And Fire Nation priests had a quote too – continuous effort is the key to unlocking your potential."

"But Zuko," Aang pleaded, pushing his fist down with both hands, "I don't think they'd tell you that if they could see you right now. What you need is rest!"

He jerked away from the monk, looking anywhere but at those wide gray eyes. "What I need is to figure out what's wrong with my firebending!" Fists clenched, and every muscle in his body was tense in trying to keep his breathing even. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes. The other boy let his hands drop, stepping away from the frustrated teen.

"Alright. But just remember... we're here for you, you know..."

Zuko scoffed, turning towards the now setting sun. The air was getting cooler, and he could almost feel it in his soul, like the dying sun was killing a little piece of it's heart as it went down. He could imagine Katara's sneer if he tried to go to her with anything, or the guffawing laugh of Sokka should he try to have a 'manly chat' with him. Toph and Aang were different, and he was finding that the younger kids were much more accepting to him; Aang followed him around most of the temple like a newborn deercalf (which annoyed Katara), and Toph routinely sought him out to help her with little things like making a more comfortable seat near the fire (despite the fact that she could bend one in less than a breath's time) or in fluffing up her newly liberated bedding (which also annoyed Katara for some strange reason). Personally he thought that the thought of anyone wanting to spend time with him annoyed her. Because that would imply that she didn't have absolute control over everyone anymore.

This dusty bed isn't really so bad, he decided, curling up under the worn covers. Much better than in Ba Sing Sei, at least. It's so much quieter here... I could just sleep forever... Sure, every breath in brought in just as much dust as air, but the room was dark and cool, and the lumpy mattress was like a cloud after hours of stressful firebending practice. He pressed his burning cheeks into the rough cotton, snuggling down as deep into the blankets as he could get. He was just so tired...

Footsteps clicked down the hall, and he ignored them in favor of the suffocating darkness. Whoever it was was probably just going to Toph's room. Or getting something out of any of the other rooms that they used as storage. Or going for an evening walk, anywhere but to his room.

There was a click, followed by the swishing of dust being disturbed. A stream of warm light fell across his closed eyelids and he groaned, pulling the blanket up over his head. What did they want now?

"Z-Zuko?" a voice called out softly, thick in it's effort to remain quiet. "You awake?"

If I wasn't I certainly would be now...

He didn't respond, praying that the other boy would give up and just leave him alone. Agni apparently thought it'd be funnier to ignore his wishes, and Sokka crept closer, bare feet stepping on nearly ever creaky board as he went.

"Katara made dinner... aren't you hungry?"

All illusion of sleep abandoned, he pushed back the blanket from his face with a huff and leveled the other boy with a tired glare. "I was trying to sleep, so no, I'm not hungry. Why don't you go annoy Aang or something?"

Sokka frowned and sat on the edge of his bed. "You didn't eat anything all day. You've got to be hungry by now. It's not like we'd poison you or anything, jeesh."

"I was too busy to eat," he breathed, staring up at the ceiling as though it was it's fault the other boy wouldn't leave. "And what's it to you, anyway?"

"I'm just trying to be polite, something you apparently can't do." He sat back on the bed crossed legged, and placed a small wooden board between them. "Well if you don't want to eat, at least play a game with me or something."

Zuko hadn't even noticed that the boy had had anything in his hands. Sokka was stealthier than he had thought.

"Fine," he sighed, sitting up against the headboard, crossed legged like the boy before him. "But what's that for?"

A smirk lit up Sokka's face, and Zuko regretted asking. "This, my friend, is a mancala board. It's a game played with marbles and the only talent needed is intelligence."

"So it's a game even you can play then, hm?"

"Hey!" Sokka scowled, before he recognized the backhanded compliment. "Yeah, I guess."

He dropped four marbles into each of the twelve grooves along the board's surface. "This is my side, and that's yours. The object is to get the most marbles into this big dug-out on your end. But you can only grab marbles from one dip, dropping one into each groove as you go. If the last marble drops into a groove with more marbles in it, you grab those and keep going. Otherwise, you stop there and it's the other player's turn. Comprende?"

"Yeah, sure. I guess..." Zuko scooped up four of the marbles, dropping one into each groove he passed. After two times around the board, the last marble landed in an empty groove, and he looked to Sokka for confirmation. The other boy nodded with a smile.

"Not bad," he admitted, "for a beginner. You can't forget: this is a game of planning and intelligence. Don't feel bad when I whoop your butt."

Zuko scowled, but pulled up a pillow behind his back to get comfy as Sokka played his turn. The other boy obviously knew what he was doing, and ended his round after nearly ten trips around the board, hoarding eight more marbles than Zuko had.

So it's all in where you start, eh?

He inspected the grooves on the board, and mentally tallied up how many marbles he could accumulate per which one he started with. Sokka raised an eyebrow, amused, but didn't interrupt. The other boy knew the importance of a good plan.

"I'll make you eat your words yet," Zuko bet, finally choosing a groove. By the end of the turn, he had surpassed Sokka, and the other boy was already planning his next assault.

When the game had came to a close, Sokka had beaten Zuko by one marble, and both boys were feeling much more comfortable around each other.

"You girls done bonding yet?"

They looked to the door, where Toph was leaning, 'observing' the laughing boys with a smirk on her face. She stepped away from the door frame with a slight swing of the hips and rested her hands on her hips. Much like Katara was so prone to doing. She pointed at Sokka.

"Your sister's throwing a hissy fit looking for you," she informed him, "and if you leave her with Aang in that kind of mood, it's bound to cause all kinds of trouble." A grin, and she looked all too happy at the idea of mischief and mayhem. "You should let her know you're still alive though, or she won't make you any food."

"Damn, and it's stew tonight, too." Sokka rose from the bed with a sigh, cracking his back and giving a little wave to the boy left alone on the bed.

After Sokka left the room with the promise of returning with food, he had collapsed against the wall with a sigh. There was just something about the other boy that made him want to get closer, made him want to feel that silky white skin, map out that infamous scar. And those were the more innocent thoughts running through his head.

It was official. He was losing his mind.

Sex, in the watertribe, wasn't as ceremonial as he knew it was in the other nations. That wasn't to say that they would share intimacy with anyone who called, but it wasn't uncommon for a man to share his bed with more than one woman at different times, or for a woman to seek the comfort of different men depending on her mood. Sex was an act of pleasure, one that could help the village flow much smoother. For example, when a man was ...satisfied … he would be less likely to start fights or storm off trying to prove himself.

There was a reason that the watertribe was considered the most easygoing of the four nations.

And it was also the norm for the men at sea to seek sexual relations with one another during their long absences from home. Therefore, it was perfectly natural – at least in Sokka's mind – for him to feel lust towards the newest member of their team.

Not only was Zuko quite the unique commodity with pale white skin that never seemed to tan, but he also had ink black, silk-like hair and eyes like melted gold as well. Throw in his scar and he was someone who was both unforgettable, and someone you'd never want to forget. Plus, he was the only person sans family who was his age in the vicinity.

It's been way too long since I've seen Suki.

The only problem with his attraction to the other boy was that it was Zuko. The boy who hunted them and betrayed them before.

Sure, he said he was on their side now, but that was in no way proof. Also, he was Fire Nation, and what little Sokka knew about sex in their culture told him that relations between two men would not be tolerated. So it would be completely understandable for the sexually-challenged boy to freak out when confronted with the idea of casual sex between friends. It would be best then to keep his attraction secret.

Another wave crested in his abdomen, and he leaned over the porcelain bowl, chest heaving as his meager dinner forced itself up and out of his body. He groaned, leaning his burning forehead against the cool stone wall. Every muscle ached, and his head spun every time he moved. If his throat wasn't aching so much, he would've considered calling out for help. Surely Katara would help even him if she could see how sick the slightest bit of food was making him. Or at least heal him so he wouldn't make more of a mess to her living space.

He had tried to eat the thick watertribe stew – really, honestly tried – but he had gotten down only a few bites before his stomach started rolling and he knew he had to stop. But the rolling beast had turned into a cascading dragon, and he had excused himself from the group with some feeble excuse about needing to set up his things in his room.

A moment later he had been throwing up his guts into an abandoned bathroom.

Something wet dribbled out of the corner of his mouth, and he brushed away the dark red with his sleeve with a sigh. Something was definitely wrong.

AN: Alright. Another chapter done. And we have some turmoil this time. Yay.

Forgive the lateness.. and shortness... of this chapter. My hand's already feeling better slightly, and the next one should be coming much quicker. At least things are starting to happen now. I'm really enjoying this.

This chapter was 8,614 words long.

Next chapter's totally blank for me. It'll be interesting, that's for sure, but I left this next one open to suggestion, or whatever pops into my head at the time. But hopefully we'll get to the Dragon Masters soon...

See you then!