Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

Heartstrings:

Those eyes. They haunt me. Everywhere I look, I see them.

Mocking me.

Laughing at me.

Hurting me.

I run, and run, and run for what seems like an eternity. I run away from those eyes. Those cruel, cold eyes that never leave me alone.

And then, I see her eyes. Beautiful, kind, loving eyes. Eyes that wrap me up in a warm hug, shooing away my fears. Eyes that will not live to see another day.

"It'll be alright."

She says it with a smile, a terribly real looking smile that causes me to have hope. False, fake, dead hope. I believe her because I'm a five year old who doesn't know any better. A five year old who is watching her mother face those ruthless amber eyes so I don't have to.

And then I'm running again. But no matter how much I run, I still hear her scream. I still smell burnt flesh. And when I turn back around to try and save her, I see her beautiful eyes fade.

That scream pierces my soul, echoing in my ears so loud that I just want to scream back at it to stop. The smell is suffocating, making me choke, yet I am forced to keep breathing. But the worst part is the eyes. Those warm, motherly eyes that are now so, so empty.

And he laughs. Amber eyes laugh at my pain, laugh at the life that has been so blatantly stolen by death.

And I can't stop it.

I scream, sitting up in my bed.

My bed. Not the cool, ice house, but in a warm bed. A bed in an elevated air temple.

My breath is ragged as the nightmare clings to my thoughts. The nightmare that I've been forced to relive every night for the past nine years.

Suddenly, my door swings open, and I see amber eyes. Frozen I watch as they get closer, soon right in front of me. I shut my eyes, shaking my head back and forth to try escape those cold eyes.

"Shhh..." A voice hushes as someone pulls me into a hug. It's then that I realize that that voice, those arms, are much to gentle to belong to those eyes. "I got you."

I slowly look up, and see amber eyes. But these eyes are different. They aren't ruthless, but kind. They aren't mocking, but soothing. Most of all, they aren't cold, their burning. And I know that these eyes belong to someone entirely different.

I throw myself into him, sobbing into his chest. I cry and weep like a five year old because I still feel like a five year old. Helpless. Scared. Confused.

"Z-Zuko!" I whimper. "I c-couldn't do anything! I couldn't save her!"

He strokes my hair, rocking me back and forth in his lap. "I know, I know."

His hand brushes away my tears, cradling my face.

I cry for a long time, letting out all my pain and grief. I sometimes speak, asking why she had to leave. He never gives an answer, just saying that he doesn't know.

I tell him that I'm scared and I have no idea why. He only hugs me tighter, as if saying that I don't have to have a reason.

Slowly, my sobs get quieter, my tears smaller. But he never stops rocking me, never ceases whispering comforting words to my ears.

I start to fall asleep, still clutching his shirt, my face buried into his chest. As I lay in his arms, my fear fades away. I feel safe.

Just before I lose consciousness, I hear him whisper softly into my ear.

"I'm here, and I'm never going to let anything hurt you."

When I finally fall asleep, my dreams are peaceful.