There was no definite good or bad side, it was something known but not quite understood to Sokka. He had been disappointed and vexed with who Jet really was, but surprise wasn't a factor involved in his thoughts. Jet was a person drowned in hate, someone unable to think selflessly and past his pettiness. Its true Jet offered a community for the victims of the fire nation, and that their hatred was valid. But as a result, he lost his morality to appease the grief and rage simmering inside him, stealing any room for personal growth.
Pulling his blanket further up, Sokka stared up at the cluster of starlight, assured by the clean night sky that tonight would be peaceful by its assuring presence, pulling his feet closer to warm up his toes, feeling chills run up his ribs and arms regardless of his attempts to nurture the warmth between his sheets.
Jet did lose everything at a young age, and growing up trying to take down the fire nation must have warped his mind. As much as a smooth guy Jet was, he wasn't a leader. Katara had learned that the hard way thanks to her mushy feelings gushing all over him. He seriously hoped she wasn't going through a bad boy phase, he had enough of problems on his plate.
Before, he thought Zuko was crazy, but he was sorely corrected when it came to Jet. To sacrifice an entire village because there were fire nation civilian was slaughter, just as bad as the fire nation. Although the experience was unpleasant, Sokka was grateful his instincts led them to Jet. The villagers would have drowned if he wasn't there to warm them of their dam being destroyed, things turned out fine in the end. He just wished Katara and Aang could have avoided being confronted with this nauseating part of reality, they had enough scars from the world.
So if Jet was the ultimate jerk, what did that make Zuko? Still a jerkbender, but in a different light. Was it possible Zuko lost something dear to him? Enough to push him to obsess over the Avatar like his own life depended on it, almost like a madman. The photo Sokka had taken on the ship was proof Zuko was once a very different person, a happy kid. Something must have happened, people aren't born dark and twisty like that, they're damaged and scarred. But the firelord was evil, so it wouldn't be far-fetched for Zuko to be like him.
Zuko was the son of the fire lord, the enemy of the world, but even he didn't terrorize his tribe in the south when he suspected Aang was hiding there. By no means was he redeemable, he burned down the village in Kyoshi island to capture Aang. If Suki was hurt, Sokka would have blamed himself for letting that happen, for being weak and useless against their enemy.
Sighing, Sokka forfeited his thoughts for sleep just like last time, figuring he was next to crazy for putting so much useless thought into Zuko and the past. The prince was the heir of Ozai, his blood was downright nefarious, that was reason enough to hate Zuko. All of this pondering was useless, even if he found answer to his questions, nothing would change.
Dreams came in floating pieces, blurry and a little lost. First, the group was out of food because Aang had to burn all the dried meat for fire once again, so they took a tour to the market to buy ripe food for Aang's vegetarian needs, only problem was that food mutated and started eating people. Then things blurred and focused on to Momo speaking English, sharing his opinion of everyone through insult.
"I love what you've done with your hair, how do you get it to come out like that from your nostrils?" He asked Sokka. If he wasn't being chewed away by a hawthorn berry, Sokka would have totally won an exchange of insults with his level of wit.
"Someday you'll go far, and I hope you stay there." Momo stated to Aang in a hopeful voice.
"Whatever kind of look you were going for, you missed with those hair loopies." Momo pointed out in shrill laughter.
Before he could do anything, Sokka woke up to mild pain as air when something crashed on his stomach. It had been Momo, frightened by Aang's nightmares. It seemed the kid has been having them for a while, not that Sokka blamed him, it was just irritating with the constant disturbance at night. Rubbing his stomach, he heard mumbling beside him.
Katara was comforting Aang again, it was pretty obvious something was bothering Aang by the way he evaded explaining the possible causes for his nightmares. While it was out of good intention behind her worry, some things were best left alone. If Aang didn't want to talk about it she should let it be, a man needs space.
Impulsively he sat up, plastering a smile to distract them over Aang's nightmares, it was way too late to start having mushy heart to heart chats, he should be involved a little more to fend off Katara's smothering "You guys wanna hear about my dream?" And maybe he wanted a little attention too.
Katara shot him an aggravated look for him to shut up, disapproving his approach. Disappointed, he withdrew the offer with a slightly injured ego "That's okay," he fell back into his sleeping bag "I didn't want to talk about it anyway." He added, pulling his blanket over his head to sulk. Behind him he heard his sister lay back under her covers once Aang did.
Sleep was uneasy for the rest of the night for him, his dreams turned black only to be lit by figures of fire. Curious he walked further on, noticing the crowding of people, subtly melting right into the ground. In shock, Sokka turned around and ran, shaking away the image of skin melting off bone, telling himself to escape this place.
He was terrified to the idea that his mother suffered like that. He didn't know what happened to her after being taken, his stomach twisted further in pain. This was the fire nation's fault, if they had left their tribe alone, everything would have been fine. Hakoda would have never left, Katara could have grown up carefree, and Sokka could have had more time with his dad. The fire nation were cowards for destroying so many families, and it was disgusting for them to believe they had the right to erase the diversity of the world.
"But it's not just the fire nation, is it?" A voice asked, Sokka slowed to a pause, looking at clearing figure of stiff person.
Pale skin and familiar candlelit eyes, with a knowing scar. Unsure where to turn, Sokka could only run past Zuko, trying to find a blank space he could rest and fade until he could wake up.
"Jet was just as bad. You know that, he was willing to throw away lives for his own benefit. His need for destruction." Zuko's monotonous voice was controlled, and Sokka couldn't deny his words. Pushing himself to run faster despite the burn in his lungs, his fists clenched and unclenched, unsure where to place his anger. "If anything, you're worse than Jet, he would have never became like that if the fire nation had never attacked. Plus, you burned the Kyoshi Warrior's village. You're the enemy." He snapped, hoping to stop Zuko's voice from following him, only to find him in front of him again, this time he could see his expression.
Unfazed, Zuko lifted his hand, to touch his scar for a second, only to look at Sokka with trenchant eyes,
"Am I?" He asked, as if Sokka had the answer.
The soft tone of Zuko's voice was grating to Sokka, it was unusual to hear him so calm and gentle, it wasn't natural to hear him speak with tenderness. 'This is just a dream. A stupid dream that's messing with me, a sick nightmare.' Sokka told himself, trying to reason and gather his emotions.
Angrily, he glared at the ground, unable to look at Zuko's sickening face, "You chose to hunt Aang, if you had any sort of conscience, you'd be stopping your father instead of trying to kill off the only hope the world has." Looking back up, he was caught off guard to see Zuko's eye gorged out, dark liquid squeezing out from the puncture, pale fingertips stained with it. "Suppose I did choose this. My path…" Zuko closed his good eye, and his entire body bled like a faucet, his skin tearing apart like wet parchment, drowning Sokka in its sorrow, filling his lungs with the taste of suffering.
"…My honor." Zuko's voice died.
Struggling awake, he found half his face damp and cold, half his face was submerged in ocean water, it seemed he rolled around in his sleep. Slipping out of his bag, he tried to save his clothes and bedding from being completely soaked. To his luck, everyone else managed to sleep through his ruckus, likely due to the fact that it was barely morning. To save time, he climbed up Appa's tail, assuring the bison he just wanted lay down some laundry in hopes of drying sleeping bag before they left today.
Getting on top the flat saddle he aired out his mattress before spreading it out. The edges were damp, but the water hadn't gone completely through as to be expected, living in the South Pole required clothes and bedding to be warm and durable against water.
Sliding down Appa's large smooth tail, Sokka patted himself to brush away the bison's stray hairs and headed out to gather kindling for their next stop, bringing his bag to carry it and whatever else he might find along the way.
Gathering thin grass around a boulder, Sokka found his brain remembering the melting face of Zuko, making it difficult to shake the effect the nightmare had on him. Seeing Zuko rip and bleed out in his dream unnerved him, he could still feel the blood cling in the corners of his eyes, like a mental shadow. As much as Sokka hated Zuko, to hurt someone like that was beyond cruel, it was savagery.
Blinded by the rising sun, he stopped pulling at the strands of grass to flip open his bag and explored the contents for his camera. Pulling at the makeshift neck cord attached to the camera's sides, Sokka turned to take in the ocean scent blowing through him, reminding him of his home. Solid rays of peach and gold warmed his skin and comforted the longing and worry for his family. Thinking about it now, he never did take a photo of the sunset. As silly as it may have been, he wasn't used to seeing the sun dip and rise from the horizon on a 12 hour schedule. Usually in the South, the sun was either up all day or down all day, never so consistent. Seeing the soft light being born he wanted to take a moment to shut himself away, letting the sunrise warm his night chilled skin, breathing in the light to feel renewal.
When Eagle Hawks began to cry out, he focused the camera on the sun, taking the photo when the wandering clouds became lilac. Pleased, Sokka marched on proudly with another addition to his increasing collection of photos. His luck continued as he found bountiful mounds of sea grass for his bag to the point of overflowing when he returned to the group. Seeing his sister sleeping peacefully, he decided to set down his sun dried sleeping bag and take a nap, hoping for a few more winks of sleep for his hard work.
Returning with a few handfuls of dried leaves in his pockets, Sokka was confident Appa wouldn't be tempted to eat this type of kindling, he was slightly peeved he had to wake up to the sound of the bison eating all of previously collected kindling; how was he supposed to know that Appa had 8 stomachs?
Grumbling away his misery, Katara's face was tight with worry as she aired out an empty bag with Momo trying to inhale the crumbs that fell out. She suggested they head to the market despite Sokka's warning of food ingesting people from his dream and Momo's rude comments.
Without checking, it turns out they were also out of money. Frustrated, tired, and hungry, Sokka asked what they were supposed to do now knowing hunting was an option, eager for Aang and Katara to jump at the idea.
The momentary consultation in his brain was interrupted by Katara's matter-of-fact voice "You could get a job smart guy." Her tone teased him, waiting to see what her brother might do in response. Sokka could be surprisingly resourceful when pushed, or impulsively dumb, either one suited her since she had faith their group would find a solution to their money troubles.
Almost immediately a stubborn pair of elders were arguing about the weather despite its excellent quality. The women warned the man about the severe weather approaching, refusing to go out since it was dangerous, which prompted Sokka to take the job when the old man stayed he'd pay a new fish hauler double.
Being a skilled man in fishing, it would be easy money, even if it turned out the old man was bluffing about double pay. The weather was clear and the wind was pleasantly mild, even if it did rain, a little water wouldn't bother him.
Rowing out to sea, the old man continued on with his criticism about his friend. Growing up knowing only of war would make anyone lose hope for the return of the avatar, but Aang was doing his best to fix things now. Eventually he defended his friend after a good half hour, insisting that things would get better now that the Avatar was making the effort to restore peace.
Readying the nets, Sokka took notice the gathering of clouds above him; the heavy grumbling that followed made his skin prick with uneasiness which he justified it as the effect from the colder winds, his indomitable pride refusing to back out for the sake of proving himself.
Strangely, Sokka only managed to catch several fish despite the extended period of time he waited. After the 8th throw, he gave up.
"You sure you know what you're doing? Seems like the fish aren't around."
Spitting a captious insult, the old man shook his head at Sokka angrily "With all that yapping of yours of course the fish ain't coming. Now hush!"he chided, throwing back a smaller net at Sokka "Go try catching the smaller fish, it seems the bigger fish are too smart for you."
Soon after the old man snapped at Sokka, the overcast darkened as the veins of the clouds glowed for a moment followed by cold waves of water from the sky and ocean.
It seemed a storm had really come around to bring forth chaos with the bursts of wind. Fear began running through his heart, his back tensed as his neck when he felt his body twist itself to the very real danger of death. "I'm too young to die!" He shrieked, maintaining balance on the slippery wood, trying to keep his nausea controlled when he felt useless to the situation, inexperienced with navigating a boat in a storm. Regardless of the short span of time, his toes and fingers were stinging from the rain leaching away his heat.
"I'm not, but I still don't wanna!" The old man replied, keeping the sails up to avoid the boat flipping over, seemingly regretful he hadn't listened to his wife that morning.
With good faith, Sokka told himself all he needed to do was wait out until Aang came around with Appa, that way both he and the old man would make it.
An hour passed and the winds doubled in severity, the water felt like needles bouncing off his skin, Sokka could barely see past the boat's edge; it was all a panicked blur. "We need help!" Sokka choked out, fingers digging into rope to keep himself upright against the waves of salt water.
"There's a ship coming er' way kid, just hold out some more!" The gruff voice of the old man was worn out, sounding relieved that help was arriving, eagerly pointing straight at the nearing aid. "Can't believe I didn't listen to my wife…" He grumbled to himself, making amends that if he ever got out of this wretched storm he'd stick to his wife's instincts, no matter how ludicrous they were.
Catching sight of stable ship, Sokka joined the man in calling over the solid looking vessel before a growing wave lifted the boat nearly upside down. Sokka gripped tighter to the rope, ignorning the grating of skin as he held on. This storm wasn't going to take him, he wouldn't fade like this.
Fires snapped as it ate away at the weak wood, Katara had listened to Aang's past, his regret, and loss. He had run away when he discovered he was being sent away from his friends because he had been the avatar; now he realized he left the world in peril and despair for a hundred years. While it was true many people were in need of him, he wasn't at fault. While the world was harsh for her family, but she had never blamed him for it. Aang had a good heart, and he was just a child, to place the blame of this war on him was selfish; he was still grieving the loss of the air nomads, people needed to understand his loss.
Wanting to help mend the reopened wounds, she rubbed his back softly, patient and waiting. Her heart ached to see him so crestfallen and quiet in comparison to his usual upbeat attitude, he must have missed his old life. In a small way she understood his loneliness, she was the only water bender in the South Pole, the genocide of other elements wasn't right.
"Aang…" She hushed, wanting to assure him that dwelling in the past wouldn't change things, that because he was here now he had changed so many lives, including hers. With him alive now, he was hope. Before she could further comfort him, the walls trembled and heavy snaps followed the ceiling to the entrance.
Jumping to her feet, her skin paled, her gut told her the shaking was a bad sign. "Aang, we need to go!" She urged, taking hold of his wrist, aware that any more sympathetic words for Aang would have to be later if they were going to make out before something drastic occured. Puddles of water matched her breathing, quick and never ending when she sprinted to the opening of the cave, the water catching the back ends of her boots. Despite her best efforts, boulders and debris had slid down the entrance in a chaotic tumble. "How could this happen?" She asked herself, dropping her grip on Aang to feel around the smooth boulders, feeling her heart sink when she failed to move the blockage.
"Must have been the heavy rain," Aang suggested quietly, turning back to tend to the fire since it was the only source of light they had.
Noting the malleable, slippery texture of the rocks between her fingers, she nodded "That makes sense, the rain must have softened the structure of the cave…"
Aang returned with a torch of fire, his grim face highlighted by the contrasting shadows made from the firelight "If the storm caused the cave in… Sokka might be in trouble…" the torch flickered.
Katara paled, "How do we get out then? Water and air won't do much to move boulders... I don't know of anyone can hear us past this cave…" her voice died, trying to keep herself calm.
"Well," Aang thought about their current limitations; he wasn't an earth bender yet, and he didn't know how tap into the avatar state when he wasn't agitated. Suddenly, his face brightened as he fumbled under his clothes for his bison whistle "We can't, but if we manage to create a few openings Appa could help us once he hears the whistle."
"Good idea Aang," she praised, feeling her worry settle a bit, the danger of the storm still on her mind when the sound of thunder threatened them from above "We better get working then. I don't want to think about what might happen if we're too late." She shook her head of the possibility of losing her brother and began to pull the rain through the cracks of the wall, trying to evade her fear through concentrating on her task.
Dangerous storms were calming, it matched his differing thoughts that fought for what he wanted. He'd listen to the raw sound of the sky being ripped apart, letting the storm take over him which left him somewhat light and empty. Tonight, he was struggling up the ladder against the ship's smokestack, trying to avoid slipping off of the wet bars. The storm was usually his ally when it came, this time it was his challenger, and he had no plans to losing. With his instincts and strong will, Zuko managed to reach the terrified man that was clinging to the edges of the top, offering his hand to the relieved creman.
With the near loss of a person in this storm, it made Zuko withdraw momentarily from his ambitions to realize the severity of the situation. To allow other people to die because he had the authority to didn't sit well with him, it wouldn't do any good to further shame his father by giving into such cowardly decisions. This journey was meant to redeem himself of his shame, no matter how difficult and painful it was, this was his burden alone, no one else needed to be dragged down with him.
"What do you want to do, sir?" Lieutenant Jee asked, streams of water escaped down his face from his soaked hair, lightening momentarily brightened his stiff expression.
Glancing between Jee and the rising tides, Zuko gave his orders, making sure to speak clearly through the rain "We need to get this ship to safety." The risk wasn't worth it, it wasn't certain the Avatar was even close by, plus a damaged engine was also something dangerous to ignore. Iroh looked up at the sky, and suggested to head to the eye of the storm. Another crewmember approached Zuko to notify that there were two fisherman in their direction that needed help; in a moment of consideration, Zuko ordered they be helped on to avoid the storm.
After a few minutes they made it to the eye of the storm, stepping forward, Zuko scanned the skies for any more extensions of this violent storm. Soon after, his uncle approached with a pleased look while keeping quiet. Respectfully, Zuko acknowledged his dishonest behavior earlier in the day "Uncle, I'm sorry." His angry words before were false when he insisted he didn't care about the loss of crew members, he had been foolish and shameful, he needed to be more disciplined to succeed in his journey. So he readied himself for whatever his uncle had prepared as punishment.
Iroh placed an encouraging hand on his shoulder, seemingly content with just those words "Your apology is accepted." His uncle's voice was light and proud as Zuko watch his uncle head back inside, likely to pour himself a cup of tea since he was in a good mood. While he was grateful for his Uncle's patience, he readied a plan to meditate for the rest of the night to further discipline himself, still feeling the regret of his unseemly actions.
"Sir?"
Zuko turned around to see the same crewman that approached him from before. He carried a rather anxious expression with fear lined around his eyes while rubbing the back of his neck, "I-It seems one of the fishermen we saved was a p-previous p-prisoner," he stuttered, either from the cold or terror of speaking directly to Zuko, it was likely the latter.
Slowly Zuko's eyes focused on the man's words, the air around him turned heavy, as he understood that the storm wasn't over yet with this new information "Continue." He demanded, approaching the apprehensive soldier with his pensive stare.
"A certain water tribesman, sir."
Author's note: Terribly sorry about the late update, I've been swallowed up by the troubles of deciding which University(or College, if you're in the US) I want to attend to, it's some pretty heavy stuff. Nonetheless, thank you for your golden patience.
