A/N: Good Lord, this is the longest chapter I have written so far (even if it doesn't have the most words). This story is also the longest story I've ever written! Luckily it's summer time and I don't have to worry about school as well! :)

HJ, that weird person named ... may have made you angry, but I just laughed at them. They were so stupid they were funny :) They tried to correct my spelling of Fuehrer and STILL spelled it wrong! lol

Ages: The Duke: 19, Smellerbee: 24, Pipsqueak: 25, Longshot: 21, Yue: 23

Chapter 13—A Road to Follow, The Past Forgotten

The wedding was extravagant with the church bells ringing, brilliant decorations, wonderful food, and plenty of guests. Sokka sure did a great job planning his sister's wedding with a little help from Toph and Aang. Zuko saw the gypsy, with Aang and Lu Ten right behind him, standing next to him on the altar waiting for Katara to enter the church.

Zuko smoothed his uniform, making sure it had no creases. He wanted to look positively perfect for his bride. His armband gone and Hitler never making it to power, Zuko's perfect military wedding was taking place. He was marrying the girl of his dreams with his uncle, his cousin, and his mother still around to see him become the happiest man on earth.

The doors to the Berlin church opened up and the organ began to play. Zuko looked down the aisle to see his bride, Katara, hanging on the arm of her father Hakoda and Toph right behind them. He smiled lovingly at her and he could see her blush from underneath the veil that ever-so-slightly covered her face. Zuko could not wait to lift the veil and kiss his love passionately.

Katara, Hakoda, and Toph arrived at the altar, the younger girl taking her place next to the gypsy as Hakoda handed his daughter off to the German. She took his hand and turned to face him. They smiled at each other the entire ceremony, only speaking when they had to say their vows and their "I do's". Finally, after half an hour of listening to the priest talk, Zuko was to kiss the bride. He slowly lifted her veil and gazed upon her beautiful face for the first time that day.

Zuko did not linger on her beauty for long. Gently grazing her face with his fingers, he bent down and pressed his lips to hers. A cheer erupted from the congregation and as they broke apart, Zuko smiled down at Katara who returned his smile happily.

"I love you, Katara," he said, taking her hand and leading her back down the aisle. She followed him out the front door and into the small, black car.

"I love you too, Zuko," she returned and as they crawled into the back seat of the car, Zuko knew that the rest of his life would be the happiest years he had ever lived.

And then he woke up.

Zuko blinked several times before he realized what he had just experienced was only a dream and nothing more. He sighed, knowing that the happy day he had always dreamed of with Katara might never happen. He was a prisoner, held captive by his own sister until the day he was sent to Berlin to be executed by a firing squad.

Zuko stopped thinking for a split second, suddenly realizing that he was not curled in a ball in the corner of a cold, metal cell, but laying face up on a soft bed in a cozy-looking room. Curious, he reached up and touched his left eye, or rather a large cotton bandage that was wrapped around his head. All of a sudden, the events that transpired at Auschwitz all came flooding back to him. The strange man who took him from his cell, getting his pistol back from his sister, being seen by the guards, running for his life, gunshots coming from an unseen location, fighting his sister, and the oil lamp. It was all there and he was no longer prisoner to his own country, but a fugitive on the run with a man he did not know. He did not even know the stranger's name.

He tried to sit up, but the cuts on his back from his sister's whip were inflamed so badly it was too painful to try to move on his own. Instead, Zuko glanced around at the room he was in. It was empty aside from a few chairs and two beds, one of which was occupied already by himself. Many questions flooded through his mind. How did he get there? Where was the man who rescued him? Who bandaged him up? How long was he unconscious for? But most importantly, what town and what country was he now in?

Just as he was about to muscle through the pain and take a look outside, the door to the room opened and two men walked in. Zuko recognized the messy-haired man who rescued him. He was not wearing the long coat he had on before but a red shirt that was not fully buttoned and dark pants and in his mouth was a tobacco pipe, a small amount of smoke billowing from the top. The other man he did not recognize. He was quiet, only listening to what his companion had to say and nodding here and there. He had black hair, a large nose, and wore brown pants, black boots, and a blue-gray colored shirt. His gloves were gray and did not cover his fingers. They looked like they were useful only for shooting rifles.

The man in the red shirt slumped down in one of the chairs in the room and sighed. "We have to leave tomorrow, Longshot," he said, his eyes closed as he relaxed on the chair and rested his feet on the window sill. "Those wanted posters sure puts a wrench in the works, doesn't it?"

Zuko turned his head slightly to look at the man. He looked exhausted, almost sad as he sat and stared out the window into the town.

"We have wanted posters?" Zuko asked, breaking the short silence that issued throughout the room. The man in the chair and the one called Longshot both turned their heads to look at the man lying broken on the bed. When the stranger in the chair saw that Zuko was awake, he merely turned back to stare out the window again and grumbled.

"He's finally awake," he said as if he did not care. "Longshot, get him some supper and I'll brief him on what's happening."

Zuko watched as the man with dark hair left the room to grab some food for him to eat, or so he presumed. While Longshot was gone, Zuko turned to the man in the chair and asked the one question that had been bugging him since the moment he first saw the man through the hole in his cell door. "Who are you?"

The man turned away from the window again to look back at him. He almost looked angry, but given Zuko's limited eyesight, it was hard for him to tell. "The name's Jet," he said, his voice almost like a growl. "Longshot and I are Russian Partisans and our mission was to find you and bring you back to Moscow for Stalin to question. We're on our way there now."

Zuko said nothing. He knew why they wanted him, or rather, the information he had on the Nazis that Hitler did not want getting out. He had known the Germans had spies all over Europe and false money in the banks in each of those countries for months. Hitler's plan was to corrupt the economy, making it crash and making it easier for them to invade. Hitler did not know he knew all this, nor did his father whom he had secretly heard it from and his now deceased sister. He was sure that if the Fuehrer had known that he knew, Zuko would have been dead long ago.

"So how long have I been unconscious?" he asked, changing the subject. "And where are we?"

"You've been unconscious for four days and we're in Poznan, Poland," Jet answered. "We're crossing through Poland to Belarus and from Belarus we will head straight for Russia. Moscow is just a few weeks from the Belarus boarder." The man still sounded as if he were irritated by something and the strange thing was, Jet only sounded like that when he was talking to or about Zuko. Thinking that the anger was directed at him, Zuko asked the man about it.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked.

Jet glared at him and snapped. "Oh, I can think of a few things!" he cried. "For one, insisting on going back for a pistol of all things and nearly getting us both killed, two, you're a Nazi, and three, the fact that after the two years since my wife died I finally found a woman I'm actually interested in and she happens to be in love with you!" He was standing now, his hands balled into fists from his rage. "So let us get one thing straight between the two of us, Zuko Brandt. I don't like you and that is unlikely to change in the future."

Zuko was stunned, this man, this Russian, had met with Katara. He sat straight up in bed, the injuries on his back completely forgotten, and stared wide-eyes at Jet. "You found her! You found Katara! Is she alright? Where is she now?"

Jet only shrugged and turned back to face the window once more. "She and her friends should be on their way to Denmark right now. In fact, they should be there already, and from there they will sail to Sweden where they will wait out the war."

"And you're taking me to Russia," he reiterated. Jet did not turn around, only nodded and said nothing. Zuko shook his head. "No," he said in a voice that said he meant business. Jet turned his head and looked at Zuko through the corner of his eye. "I refuse to speak to your leader until I have Katara safe in my arms. You will take me to Sweden first, otherwise I am not going with you to Russia."

"On the contrary, Mr. Brandt," Jet countered. "My orders were to escort you straight to Moscow as soon as I had found you. I cannot disobey a direct order from my president."

"Your president has no idea what happened down here!" Zuko said, his voice rising quickly. "He does not have to know the truth! Tell him it took a while to find me! I will go to Sweden first, and then you can take me Russia!"

Jet turned around and plopped back down in the chair just as Longshot returned with dinner for Zuko. "Very well," he said, defeated. He could not argue with the man's logic and it was obvious he was not going to comply until he got what he wanted. "We will go to Sweden first. But we will only stay for one day. After that, we leave for Russia."

Zuko nodded, agreeing to Jet's demands. It seemed they had an agreement. He took the food from Longshot, thanked the quiet man and ate hungrily. After a four day coma, his stomach was growling noisily from hunger. Jet did not talk to him for the rest of the day other than to tell him to be ready to leave first thing in the morning. After he finished the dinner he was given, Zuko slowly got out of bed and attempted to walk. Luckily his ankle only had a hairline fracture and if he stepped on it right, it did not hurt too much.

While Jet was packing his pack, he had Longshot come in and check Zuko's injuries. The now ex-prisoner's burn was bad. After four days it was still black and charred, it had not even begun to blister yet. The cartilage on his left ear was almost completely burned away and he was mostly blind in his left eye. His back was not looking very good either but it was better than his burn. The deep cuts were inflamed and possibly infected from ill keeping and they would take some time to heal. However, they would just be scars by the time he was able to take the bandages off his face.

"Could you wrap my right ankle," Zuko asked the quiet sniper as he replaced the bandages on his back. "I think it might be fractured a little bit." Longshot merely nodded before taking a long strip of linen and wrapping it tightly around his ankle. "Thank you," he said when the sniper finished up. Longshot nodded once and left the room, leaving Jet and Zuko alone. The German glanced over at the Russian sitting, arms and legs crossed, on the chair by the window; a single candle melted onto the table next to him was the only source of light in the room. Jet looked almost frightening in the dim light of the candle, only the features that accented his anger were illuminated by the tiny flame, the smoke from the Russian's pipe rising in the air with each slow breath he took. The frown he wore and the way he stared out at the dark streets of Poznan made him look like he was brooding over something.

Zuko suspected he knew what the man was thinking about and opened his mouth to say something but found he had nothing to say and shut his mouth, laying down in his bed and drawing the covers over his shoulder, falling asleep almost instantly.

The next morning, Zuko was woken begrudgingly to Jet gently shaking his shoulder and telling him they had to go. The German slowly crawled out from under the covers and stood up. His ankle surprisingly did not hurt when he stood on it. The wrap worked wonders and he was ready to walk for miles, but he knew if he did he would only fracture his bone even more.

Jet grabbed his pack and swung it over his shoulder, motioning for Zuko to follow him out of the room. The German grabbed a small travel bag he had packed the night before and swung it over one shoulder, careful not to cross it over his wounded back. They left, meeting Longshot in the lobby of the inn and leaving the town for good. They traveled back west, towards Berlin. Zuko was excited for their journey. He was finally going to be able to see Katara again, maybe even take her to Russia with him and start a new life there.

As they left Poznan behind, Zuko limped behind the two Russians thinking only of how good his future was looking for him. He smiled as he looked at the land around them. Yes, things were looking up.

---

Finally, the first major city they came across that did not have Nazis out to capture them and take them to Death camps. Odense, Denmark was surely a sight to see. Katara smiled as she looked up at the tall buildings, wondering how people were ever able to build anything like it. As a gypsy, she had traveled all over the continent, but never in her twenty years of living had she ever seen anything quite like Odense. She knew that when they reached Copenhagen, she would be even more impressed by the palace that stood in the center of the city. She had listened to her mother talk about it as a child and she could not wait to see it in real life.

Katara looked around at the others who sat on the train with her. They all seemed happy and excited. All except the Russians who sat looking quite serious by themselves on the other side of the car. Aang stared fascinated out the window at the city that was fast approaching while Toph sat with her arms crossed in her seat, listening to everything the young boy said. Sokka on the other hand, was too engrossed in how comfortable his seat was than what could be seen out the window while Suki laid her head on his shoulder, sound asleep. It was nice to be able to travel on the train without having to stay in the baggage car.

As the train entered the station, the group gathered their bags together and walked to the exit, waiting for the train to come to a stop before stepping off and entering the big city. They left the station and walked the streets in search of an inn to stay in for the night before they chartered a boat to take them across the sea to the next island were Copenhagen was waiting for them.

Katara looked around at all the buildings in awe. "They're so much bigger up close," she said, studying each ancient building closely. "They're beautiful."

"That's nice," came Sokka's sarcastic reply. "I just want to find a place to eat. I haven't eaten in two hours and my stomach is protesting almost violently."

Katara glared at her brother. "Is food all you ever think about, Sokka?" she asked, irritated.

"No," he said. "Sometimes I also think about Suki!" He took his girlfriend's hand and pulled her close to him for a kiss. She smiled and complied, every bit of her loving the man who risked his life to save her from the death camp.

Katara rolled her eyes. There was no hope for that man, none at all.

"I think it's a wonderful place," Aang said from behind the gypsy girl. Katara turned around to see the boy looking around just like she was.

"Thank you, Aang," she said, giving a small hug. She noticed the young teenager blushed ever so slightly but she shook it off as just his shy nature. "At least someone agrees with me."

"Hey," Toph said, shrugging her shoulders. "I would agree with too, Sugar Queen, but the only thing I can tell about this place is the fact that it's huge."

Katara glared at the blind girl. "When did you decide to start using your little pet name for me?" she asked with venom in her voice.

Toph smiled and shrugged. "Oh, about two minutes ago."

Katara rolled her eyes and turned to the woman who was leading them to Sweden. "How are we going to find an inn here in such a large city? There must be so many of them and very expensive."

Smellerbee jerked her head in the direction of her Russian companions. "The Duke grew up here in Odense before he and his family moved back to the Motherland. He knows the city like the back of his hand." She then grew silent as if expecting The Duke to come running up to her with an answer at any time.

The gypsy girl turned to the other two Russians with the intention of asking the youngest of them where they were going to stay, but it looked like Aang had gotten there before her.

"Hey, Duke," the teenager started. "Where is a good place we cans stay the night?"

The Duke seemed agitated when he heard his name. "I told you a thousand times, Aang!" he cried. "My name is The Duke!" He then crossed his arms, turned away from Aang and pouted. Aang looked absolutely confused and turned to Katara and raised his hands in a gesture that said "What the heck did I do?"

Katara sighed and walked over to the Russians with a smile on her face. She thought it was a good idea to start off with a friendly air to her. "Excuse me, The Duke," she began. He turned to acknowledge her, nodding his permission for the go-ahead. "I was wondering, where is there a good place for us to stay the night here that is not too costly for us?"

The Duke paused, debating whether he should answer her question or not. But she had called him by his whole name, so why not? Turning to face the gypsy, he smiled and nodded, pointing down a street lined with sidewalks filled with people and tall, stone buildings. "There's a nice inn two blocks down that road. I know the people who own it and we'll be able to stay there for half price."

"Excellent," Smellerbee said as she walked back over to the group. "We will stay there and give The Duke's family friends our utmost gratitude when we arrive."

The group nodded, grabbing their bags and heading off down the street to the inn. When they arrived, Katara was astounded at how fancy the inn was. The lobby had white tile floors, a painted and polished wood front desk, fluffy couches and chairs and the stairs that led to the upper levels were made of polished stone. Katara busied herself with inspecting the intricate designs of the lobby while Smellerbee, Pipsqueak and The Duke checked them into their rooms. The gypsy girl would be sharing a room with Suki, Sokka with Aang, Toph with Smellerbee, and The Duke with Pipsqueak.

Katara and Suki were ecstatic when they saw their room. It was furnished with the fanciest furniture either of them had ever seen. Excited, Katara helped her friend into the room and set her on one of the fluffy beds to rest. She dropped her pack on the floor of the room and walked over to the window that over looked the street. Katara slid open the window and stuck her head out in the cool city air. She smiled as she looked down, observing the people walking along the sidewalk. They all seemed happy, going about their normal lives as if the war going on in the south had no affect on them. Katara envied their carefree lives and prayed that the war never reached their peaceful city. She thought about her family, how it was torn apart by the war and remembered the day she had watch her mother and her grandmother being dragged away from them as she watched helplessly from her hiding place under the bed; her father bludgeoned to death before dying right in front of her in her brother's arms.

It was dark, midnight and Katara lay asleep in her bed when she awoke to the sound of shouts coming from outside and the door to her bedroom opened. Slowly opening her eyes, she raised her head to see her mother walk in looking frantic.

"Mother?" she asked, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "What's going on?"

"I'll explain later, sweetie," Kaya answered and she shut the door and locked it behind her. "Get out of bed, quick! And hide under the bed. Do not come out no matter what happens, do you understand me?"

Katara nodded once as she crawled under her bed, her heart racing so fast the blood pounding in her ears gave her a slight headache. As soon as she was safely hidden under the bed, there was a loud bang on the locked door and her mother turned around, standing completely still. It did not take long for the door to be busted open and two booted feet came storming in.

"What do you want?" Kaya demanded of the soldier that had forced his way into the bedroom.

The feet that stormed through the busted door did not stop but continued walking towards Katara's mother. "We are here to relocate you and your family to a facility specifically for your kind."

"My kind!?" Katara heard her mother say, sounding appalled. "And what family? I only have my husband and my mother here with me. They are the only family I have!"

"Then why were there more than three dirty plates on the table downstairs? Who used the other two?" The man demanded, hoping to get the truth out of Kaya.

"We had friends over for dinner and I haven't gotten around to washing the dishes yet!" Katara's mother was backed up all the way to the bed with the soldier right in front of her.

There was silence, it seemed for a while nothing was happening but then Katara heard a smack before her mother began yelling again. "Don't you touch me, you cretin!" she screamed. Another smack could be heard and Katara watched her mother's legs buckle over the bed and heard the creak of the springs indicating Kaya had fallen down on it.

"I'll teach you to assault a soldier of Germany!" the man yelled just as his feet disappeared on top of the bed. Katara clapped her hands to her mouth to keep herself from crying out when the screams of her mother echoed through the room. She could hear the thrashing of her mother and the evil laughter of the soldier as Kaya continued to scream anything that came to her mind that would get the man off her. Katara let out a small gasp when she saw her mother's undergarments thrown to the floor in front of her.

The screams continued as the lowlife soldier raped her mother. Hot tears welled up in her eyes when all she could do was listen. Katara felt completely useless and defenseless under the bed. It hurt her to know what was happening to her mother and yet she could do nothing about it. However, Katara knew that if she tried anything, she would get the same fate at Kaya.

Footsteps could be heard from the hallway and a few seconds later, her father came running into the room. When he saw what was being done to his wife, Hakoda ran up to the bed and threw the man off Kaya. Katara jumped as the soldier hit the floor and rolled over onto his back. For a second, she thought she had been spotted because the soldier had landed facing the underside of the bed but the next events told her otherwise.

Hakoda said nothing, but picked the man up by his uniform collar and slammed him against the wall. He grabbed the man's head, repeatedly banging against the wood before throwing him out the door into the hall. Although Katara could no longer see the soldier, she could still see her father's back and the arm that pumped several times with several very powerful punches to the man's face. He was beating the soldier senseless. Katara had never seen her father that angry before and it scared her, but not as much as the soldiers that came afterward and overpowered Hakoda, dragging him off the already unconscious soldier.

They beat Hakoda to the floor with their rifles too many times to count. Katara flinched with each hit of the rifle that was laid on her father. She heard her mother scream again and her feet swing over the side of the bed in front of her vision, blocking the sight of her father being bludgeoned to death. Two soldiers came into the room and grabbed her mother, forcing her down the stairs and outside with the rest of their friends and family.

"What about this one?" a soldier asked as they left the house, pointing to her father lying beaten and broken on the floor.

"Leave him," came a deep, disembodied voice at the bottom of the stairs. "He's as good as dead anyway."

The other soldier shrugged and left the house. Katara waited several seconds before gaining the nerve to crawl out from under the bed. She ran to the stairs and saw her father lying helpless and bloody on his back.

"Dad!" she cried, running to his side. He groaned as blood spurted out of his mouth and opened his eyes to look at her. "Dad, say something, please!" Her tears from before returned in higher volume this time and after hearing the soldier say that her father was as good as dead, she held a fear that this would be the last time she would see him.

"K-Kat-tara…" he managed to breath out, his voice raspy and broken. She leaned in closer to him so she could hear his quiet voice better. "You and…your bro-other must leave…Germany."

"Why?" she asked, not sure why she would leave her birth country. There were more footsteps coming from the hallway and she looked up from panic when she heard them stop right in front them. It was Sokka. When he saw his teary-eyed sister kneeling next to their bloody and dying father, his eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

"Dad!" Katara's brother ran down the few stairs that separated him and his father and dropped to his knees next to his sister, picking up his father in his arms and holding him close to his heart. Frowning, he looked at his sister and barked: "What happened?"

Katara wiped the tears from her eyes and shook her head. "He stopped a soldier from raping mom and beat the man who did it. Then the rest of them came and beat dad to this."

Sokka squeezed his eyes shut and hugged his father's broken body tighter.

"Sokka…" Hakoda gargled. The gypsy in question opened his eyes and Katara saw a small amount of tears in her brother's eyes as he watched their father speak for the last time. "Take…take care of…of your sister…" That said, Hakoda lurched once before becoming still, his beaten and bruised eyelids closed over steel blue eyes.

Katara sighed and shoved the unpleasant memory from her mind. That had been the night before her twentieth birthday and it had taken her the good part of the past year to get over the terrible things that had happened that night. She remembered crying uncontrollably as she sewed her father's dead body up in a body bag she had made herself and burying him in the nearby forest before packing up their things and leaving for Poland where they met Toph, Aang and Suki.

However, now was not the time to dwell on the past. Now was a time to focus on the task at hand and past experiences that still had a chance of being resolved. She closed her eyes and remembered the night when she had watched the man she loved being taken prisoner in a death camp made for people like her. Her one constant worry was that Zuko was no longer in Auschwitz, but had been executed the very night he was captured. Every day after Jet and Longshot left to free him, she worried that the two Russians would come back without Zuko; that they would have gone and found nothing.

But still, after all her worrying, she knew Zuko had to be alive. She did not know what made her feel like that but somehow, her gut told her he was alive. Just as she turned to sit down on her bed and unpack a few items she would need for the night, Suki looked over at her friend and said the same thing that was on her mind.

"Do you think Jet and his friend will find Zuko?"

Katara smiled at Suki who sat with her knees pulled to her chest under the warm blankets. "I have every faith that they will," she replied.

"But how do we know that Zuko is still alive?" she questioned. "After all, he was a traitor to his country. Don't you think they would have executed him on the spot?"

Katara glanced down at her own bed covers. "I don't know," she said. "All I know is that I have a feeling that he's still alive and that's all I'm willing to believe right now."

They were silent for a long time after that. Neither one saying anything for several minutes until a knock sounded at the door making both girls jump. Standing up, Katara walked across the room to the door and opened it to see Pipsqueak standing outside their door.

"Um, hello?" she said, unsure of why he was there.

"Smellerbee says that we've been invited to dinner by The Duke's friends," he said in his deep voice. It still amazed Katara how such a big man could be named Pipsqueak.

"Are we going now?" Katara asked.

Pipsqueak nodded and turned to leave. "And she does not want you wearing anything worn from your travels." He then left, leaving Katara wondering what on earth she was going to wear. Shutting the door, she walked back in the room and began digging through her pack, trying to find something that was not worn out. Suki watched intently, curious as to what her friend was doing. Finally, at the bottom of her pack, Katara pulled out the light purple Roma dress she had worn the day she had met Zuko.

"That's a pretty dress," Suki commented. "How come you have it with you?"

Katara turned to look at her friend. "I was wearing this dress the day I met Zuko," she said. "I wore it when we went to get you but instead saw you being herded onto that train by the Nazis."

Suki said nothing at Katara's comment. She remembered that day vividly in her mind and wished she could remove the memory from her mind. She had nightmares about Auschwitz every night and she was just glad she had Sokka there to calm her down when she was frightened.

Katara continued digging through her pack and pulled out a nice skirt and long-sleeved shirt and handed them to Suki. "Here," she said. "You can wear this to dinner tonight." Her friend smiled as she climbed out of the bed and took the outfit from her. They both changed their clothes as fast as they could and headed out of their room. A few feet down the hallway, they saw Sokka and Aang exiting their room ahead of them. Suki's smile grew when she saw Sokka and she jogged up to him, taking his hand in hers as they walked off together.

Katara sighed when she saw her brother and Suki smiling, laughing, and holding hands. She wished she had Zuko with her so she could be as happy as her friend, but Zuko was not there. He was, she hoped, on his way to Sweden a few days behind them.

"Katara?" It was Aang and by the way he sounded, he had been calling her name several times before she even took notice.

"Hmm? What is it?"

"You seemed distant," he replied, a concerned look on his face. They were silent for a time before the teenager spoke again. "Were you thinking about him?"

"You mean Zuko?" she asked quietly. "Yes, I was. I'm just worried about him, that's all."

Aang stared at her as they walked down the hallway to the staircase. She seemed more than worried, yet he could not put his finger on it. "Do we even know if Zuko is still alive?"

There it was, the same question that had been plaguing Katara for the past several weeks. Ever since she witnessed his capture, she held a small feeling that maybe they did execute him on the spot. But no, he had to be alive. She could feel it. Her gut told her he was alive and so alive he was. There was no other explanation.

"But if he is or not," Aang continued. "Just remember that I'm always here for you."

She looked up and smiled at her friend. "Thank you, Aang," she said. "I appreciate it."

They arrived at the stairs and descended down to the lobby where they met Toph, Smellerbee, Pipsqueak, and The Duke along with The Duke's old friends. They were an older couple, but happy nonetheless. When all the introductions were made, the owners of the hotel led the group outside and shuffled them all into a rather large automobile which drove them several blocks down the road to their house.

Dinner was extravagant and delicious. The Duke's friends were wonderful cooks and there was enough for a feast set out on the table. No one would go hungry with this meal. Near the end of the meal, Smellerbee stood up and proposed a toast to their wonderful hosts, properly thanking them for the meal and the discount on the hotel rooms. After that, dessert was served, officially stuffing everyone's bellies to where they could not eat another bite. After the dinner, the couple gave the group a ride back to the inn where they went straight to their rooms, preparing themselves for bed.

"That was some dinner, wasn't it Katara?" Suki commented as she pulled her nightdress over her head.

Katara nodded and climbed in her covers, running her hands over the sheets to feel how soft they were. "It was tasty and there was so much of it. I'm not sure if I'll be hungry in the morning for breakfast."

Suki giggled as she laid her head down on the soft, fluffy pillows. "No kidding," she agreed. "After being underfed for two weeks, a meal like that is the equivalent to two feasts."

The gypsy merely smiled at her friend's remark, rolling over under her covers and closing her eyes. Zuko had been under fed for two weeks just as Suki had. I wonder what kind of meals he's having now that he's free, she thought to herself as she slowly drifted off to sleep.

---

Zuko let out a big breath as he dropped to the ground in their hilly campsite. His ankle was in immense pain as was his back and the many bruises and injuries he had received in Auschwitz such as the crudely replaced broken nose his sister had given him. He found the nearest patch of soft grass and plopped down on his stomach, making sure his burn was facing the darkening sky and the right side of his face felt cool, refreshing grass.

October was on its way and the weather was growing colder every night. Luckily, Longshot had bought three thick blankets from the last town they had passed through and all three of them were able to keep warm during the nights they had to camp out under the stars.

He could hear the two Russians bustling about behind him but he did not care, the grass was too comfortable and refreshing after the long hot day of walking. Zuko wished they were in Denmark already so they could take public transportation and sleep in comfortable inns every night.

"Longshot, tend to his bandages while I get a fire going," Zuko heard Jet say to the sniper. "Make sure he stays whole. We can't lag behind because of injuries; our schedule is tight."

The legs of the sniper in question appeared in his line of vision and he sighed. It was time to sit up. Lifting himself off the ground, he removed the shirt Jet had given him to replace the ratty one he had worn in the concentration camp. Once his shirt was off, Longshot kneeled down next to the German and peeled off the cotton bandages that covered his whole torso. Longshot tossed the dirty bandages in the medical pack and pulled out a fresh set. He set the cotton bandages down on the ground next to him as he took a wet rag to clean off any dirt and grime that had wedged its way into the wounds. Once clean, the sniper wrapped up Zuko's back with the clean gauze and then moved on to the cotton that covered his face.

After two more days, the burn had finally begun to blister, giving Zuko's face ugly boils and bad-smelling puss over his charred skin. Longshot rubbed the wet cloth over the dead skin, taking some of the blacken skin away and making the German's face look slightly more appealing than before. Once clean, he rewrapped the injury and moved on to his ankle. The sniper tested several areas, squeezing around the bone to find the area that was fractured. When his thumb pushed against the inside of his ankle bone, Zuko cringed, letting Longshot know he had found the crack in the bone. Nodding, the Russian cut off the bandages and replaced them with new ones, this time wrapped tighter around the fractured bone to ensure it healed properly.

Meanwhile, Jet had gotten a fire started and was now feeding it small sticks and brush he had collected from the hills nearby to make it bigger and hotter. When the fire was ready, Jet took three cans of beans and poured them in a pan that he held over the fire to cook. Longshot dug in his pack and pulled out a sack of dried meat which he passed out to his leader and to Zuko. The German gratefully took the meat, savoring the flavor but also eating hungrily. When the meat was gone, Jet took the beans off the fire and checked to see if they were warm enough to eat. Nodding, he took the cans they came in and gave each man a healthy serving.

Zuko looked at his can of beans and sighed. Oh, how sick he was getting of beans. Begrudgingly, he forked out a few and stuffed them in his mouth, chewing slowly. He watched the Russian leader as he ate, remembering what he had said to the German about why he did not like him. "After my wife died," he had said. So the man had a wife once. Two years he had wallowed in his grief until meeting Katara. But what happened? Jet had said that his wife had died two years ago, but that was when the war started. Russia had not even been involved yet and the only two countries that had been involved were Germany and Austria.

"So what happened?" Zuko asked the Russian.

Jet turned and glared at the German. "What?" he asked, sounding agitated.

"You said you had a wife once, what happened to her?"

Jet's eyes narrowed before he turned away and looked at Longshot. The sniper said nothing, just stared back at his leader for a few seconds and continued eating his beans. Jet sighed and stuffed a forkful of beans into his mouth before saying anything.

"I would rather not get into this," he said after swallowing.

"Fine," Zuko said, setting his full bean can down on the ground. "But remember that you were the one who brought it up in the first place."

Jet frowned and shot Zuko a filthy look. "Very well," he said in an almost growl. "I will tell you only because I let slip this information to you by accident." He paused and stared at the fire. Taking a deep breath, he began his story.

"I was twenty years old when I met her. Long before the war broke out, I was young, traveling around to see the world. I met her in Austria; she was a gypsy and the most beautiful woman I had ever seen and on my twenty-first birthday, I married her. We had been married for three years before the war broke out and we didn't believed that Hitler would go so far as to take people from their homes. It happened so suddenly we had no idea what hit us until it was over." He paused, his eyes closed recalling the dreadful memory while Zuko picked up his bean can again and continued eating.

"We were staying in a small town in Germany at the time when they came. I was gone, out in the hills. I could hear the shouts of the villagers from where I was and ran back as quickly as I could only to see the soldiers leaving the town with prisoners in their trucks. I asked frantically for her, but Hana was nowhere to be seen. Finally, I returned to the inn were we staying to find her lying motionless on the floor of the room. The soldiers had found her and tried to take her and by the looks of the room, she had fought back. I knelt next to her and picked her up. She smiled when she saw me and it was a beautiful as ever; but it was weak and strained. I looked down and saw blood all over her stomach. She was fading fast and there was nothing I could do."

Zuko felt the man's pain as he suddenly grew silent. He was about to say something when the Russian turned to look at him, his face a mask of pure sorrow and pain; something the German had never seen before. "She died. Right in front of me and I could do nothing." Jet looked back at the fire and continued. "After that, I returned to Russia and began training as a Partisan. I felt the need to stop the Nazis, to defend my home at whatever the cost. It was not until I received the mission to find you that I began to doubt my role in this war." He paused for a few seconds as he tossed his half-full bean can onto the fire. "I guess we'll find out who you really are when we get to Russia."

"So," Zuko started, but paused, wondering if he should ask his question or not. "The reason Katara attracts you so much is because she reminds you of Hana?"

Jet frowned. "I've told you enough!" he yelled. "I will hear no more of your questions, you dirty German!"

Zuko flinched at the insult thrown at him but said nothing. This man was in pain and he was not about to add to it by asking more questions. Sighing in defeat, the German tossed the bean can into the fire, unraveled his blanket and sleeping mat and went to sleep.

---

Jet groaned as he rolled over on his sleeping mat that night. The fire had burned down to embers and all he could do was stare into them while thinking about his conversation with the former Nazi. He wanted to tell Zuko that he was over Hana and that he liked Katara for Katara, but he knew that was not true. Katara was the spitting image of Hana, the same smile, same wavy hair, blue eyes, dark skin, stubborn attitude, everything. She even sounded like Hana. How could he not think of his deceased wife when Katara was around?

Zuko just threw a wrench in the system. If it was not for the German, he would have had a chance with the gypsy, maybe even have able to marry her. But she had eyes for only Zuko. Closing his eyes and turning his back to the smoldering embers of the fire, Jet sighed, pulling his blanket over his head and feel asleep.

"I miss you, Hana…"

A/N: Well, there it is. Chapter 13 complete, Chapter 14 comming up!

I feel so sorry for Jet, he lost his wife and is faced with someone who is exactly like her but he cannot have her! Poor guy... The song "The Haunting" by Kamelot reminds me of Jet's situation. And Zuko's getting better! Woo Hoo! :)

Review please!