v. fever

.

.

.

"Zuko, you're sick. You need to go back to bed." There is no question in Katara's voice, but Zuko glances at the children who are waiting to go to the zoo and figuratively plants his feet.

"I don't need to." He crosses his arms, and Katara raises her eyebrows. "I'm not sick," he insists, even though his throat feels swollen and he feels warmer than usual. "I'm on vacation; I can't be sick."

Their kids are fidgety by the door, the youngest one halfway out before her older sister grabs her back in; she wails and kicks while her brother pulls the door shut.

"Iroh can take the kids to the zoo," Katara says gently, and Zuko knows that tone—it's the one that says she's going to take care of him, whether he likes it or not. He can't tell if he's relieved at the prospect of collapsing back into bed or disappointed that he won't get to take the kids to the zoo.

But it's not like he hasn't seen it before.

(He remembers when it first reopened outside the city's walls, although he hadn't known that Aang was the cause, back then. He only knew that Uncle had dragged him there with too much fervor and embarrassed him thoroughly with too much enthusiasm. It's a zoo, Uncle, he'd said. It's just a bunch of smelly animals. Uncle had countered with the argument that animals are some of the finer appreciations in life, like a good tea. Zuko hadn't seen the comparison then. He's still not sure he sees it now, although he appreciates his uncle much more deeply and much more openly than he did then, as an angry sixteen-year-old.)

"Okay, okay," he says, slowly lowering the bag he was holding to the floor. "I'll go back to bed."

Katara gives him a gentle shove in the right direction and goes to speak to Iroh, who then explains to their (now delighted) children that "Great-Uncle Iroh is taking you to the zoo by himself today, which means you will have to behave extra well—you older ones, help me watch the younger ones—and if you behave extra well, you may earn yourselves some extra treats."

Zuko barely hears the exchange, and he's almost asleep by the time Katara comes up and gives him a drink of water.

.

.

.

When Zuko wakes up, he realizes with groggy disorientation that he's been asleep long enough for the kids and Iroh to go to the zoo and come back, extra treats and all, because he can hear Katara talking quietly with Iroh on the other side of the room before he opens his eyes.

"Katara?" he calls, voice scratchy, and she comes to his side quickly, the bed dipping with her weight as she sits down before he's had time to creak his tired eyes open. He still feels too hot, his limbs too heavy, and his throat aches.

He hates being sick.

"Hey," she says, pushing some of his hair out of his face with skin that feels too cool against his own fever. "You awake enough for me to heal you now?"

"Yeah," he says. "My throat hurts, but other than that, I think it's just the fever."

"Okay," she says with a smile, drawing water from a nearby basin, "let's get started."

It's soothing and strange all at once, being healed by Katara. She has grown more and more powerful as she studies the healing arts, and she can heal subtler illnesses with as much skill as she mends bones and burns, now. Zuko closes his eyes and lets her work while she and uncle talk quietly.

"I told you you've been working too hard," she says to him, but her voice holds no heat. They both have been working too hard—they have, ever since the war. There is so much to fix, and they have a country to rule and children to raise. There's always too much to do.

"You were right," he mumbles, "but I still don't like being sick on vacation."

"The body takes its rest how it can," Iroh says from where he's come over to watch Katara work. "Nephew, you know that as well as anybody." He hums softly, deep in his throat, and Zuko's subconscious tells him the story's coming, but Iroh speaks before Zuko can form the words to warn him against it.

Katara's healing water is cool against his neck as she works to disperse the infection, and Zuko closes his eyes again and lets himself focus on that while Iroh embarrasses him—even without the zoo in the mix, this time, he thinks wryly—in front of his wife.

"Did my nephew ever tell you about the time he became ill during the war, when we were here in Ba Sing Se?"

Zuko must have fallen asleep again, because the next thing he knows, he hears Katara asking with soft incredulity, "You dreamt you were Aang?"

"It could have been any airbender," Zuko corrects sleepily. "I don't know for sure it was Aang."

"I see," Katara says. "Because that makes such a difference."

"It does," he protests mildly, and he feels the cool of the water leave where Katara had been working.

"I think I've done all I can for now," Katara says, and Zuko hears the splash of water as it returns to the basin. "Rest, Zuko. Iroh and I can handle the kids for the night. I'll be in later."

"Mmhm." Zuko is nearly asleep again, already.

"And I'll be sure to tell you about all the fun things you missed out on while you were asleep," Katara adds over her shoulder, just before she leaves the room.

He can't see her teasing smile through his closed eyelids, but he can hear it in her voice.

"Ha ha, very funny."

.

.

.

tbc.