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I'm just going to quietly come in here, put this in, and slink away.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sadly.
"So." Jin's hand rested on the doorhandle, fingers running gently along the battered metal. "You ready to meet my family, Zuko?" She'd been preparing him on the quiet walk over, putting a humorous spin on things to try and raise his spirits. The picture formed by the girl in his mind was pleasant and wholesome. Her mother Shan would love him, Jin promised, because Zuko had a clean record and knew how to treat a girl right. Her father Renshu would approve of his job in the upper ring, even though Zuko had lost the employment as quick as it came. Jiro would just be relieved his sister was seeing someone he didn't have an ongoing rivalry with, and her two younger brothers would clamour over one another to hear about the 'outside'. Zuko, who had no idea of how inner-city families functioned, was surprised, especially in consideration of Jin's less-than-stringent morals. They sounded just like Li's family, out in the country, Jin's relationship with Shan a mirrored image of Song and her mother. So they're all the same. Why am I oddly surprised?
"Uh, yeah." He blinked out of reverie, giving the girl a smile. Jin returned the expression, and giving Zuko's wrist a momentary clasp, pushed upon the battered door, which after Meng's entrance had remained unlocked.
Jin's shoulders sagged, a smile widening on her face as she stepped into the room, eyes fixing on the lean figure folded into her mothers' fireside chair, nodding off in the warmth and social comfort of the room. Engaged in a game of Kabufuda, gambling for matchsticks in lieu of any actual currency, Jiro and Hai looked up at the sound of Jin's entrance, forgotten cards tumbling to the table. Kneeling at the table with a growing pile of cut potatoes, Shan let out an odd cry in her throat, wordlessly rising and smothering her daughter in a bonecrushing hug.
"You!" The woman gasped, retreating after several moments and looking Jin up and down. "What were you thinking, you stupid thing!" Jin's eyes widened as she was subjected to another painful embrace, air squeezed from her lungs. "Running around in the Dai Li's prison!" Jin was held at arms' length, momentarily stunned. Zuko, hovering in the doorway, bit back a smile, ignored. "You have more sense than that, you silly girl! What if you had been captured! What if they just killed you on sight!" Jin hardly expected a heroes' welcome, but she thought this treatment was a little rough. "I-I can't even think of anything more dangerous you could have done!"
"But Ma-"
"Don't you but me! I told you, years ago that you were not to go snooping around! I told you to let be! Do you think we could cope if we lost you too? I... Ooh, I am so mad! You are in six different kinds of trouble girl, let me assure you!"
"But Ma-"
"I thought I raised you to know more than that!" Jin suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, slightly humiliated that Zuko got to witness her severe rebuking. Shan was starting to work into a rhythm – soon it would be impossible to even scream over her voice at the top of one's lungs. "You might as well run headlong into a fire you stupid girl! Honestly, how could you think it was a good idea, just walking right into the Dai Li's secret prison! I've never heard of anything so audacious-"
"But Ma, it worked!" Jin finally managed to get more than two syllables in edgeways, stopping the woman in her tracks. "Look! Meng is here, isn't he? We're both here, we're both safe, isn't that's what's important?"
"N-Now Jin." Shan stuttered, a good deal of wind taken out of her sails. Her younger siblings hid smiles behind hands, enjoying the telling-off, and Jin's slow victory. "I would have expected this from your brother, but not you. I thought you would know better! You were lucky. You were very lucky that you weren't caught! Wh-who knows what they would have done to you, I-"
"With all due respect," Zuko finally spoke up from the shadowy doorway, seven pairs of eyes turning towards him. Mortified, he shuffled a little in his boots, looking only Jin in the eye. "I-I wouldn't have let that happen... M-Ma'am." He added self-consciously, at an utter loss of what else to say. Mollified, Shan's tight hold on her daughter slackened, and dissolved.
"You must be Lee." She murmured after a strained moment of silence, her mind obviously ticking over rapidly. "We've heard a lot about you from Jin."
"'Bout time we finally laid eyes on ye'." Renshu remarked, before replacing the clay stem of his pipe between his lips.
"Yes..." Zuko shot Jin a desperate glance. "I'm sorry I haven't made an effort before, there were just... circumstances... And..."
"Lee's been very busy." Jin added quickly, plastering a wide smile on her face. "You know he works and lives in the Upper Ring, it's hard to come down all the time."
"Yes." Shan shot Jin a dark look, the painful memory of two Dai Li agents rippling the surface.
"But you have nothing to worry about." Zuko tried to defend Jin. "I assure you, Jin was never in any real danger. We weren't seen by any of the Dai Li. In fact, I doubt they even know that your son is missing."
"Lee was in the army before he came to Ba Sing Se." Jin lied quickly, fleshing out a story she had been developing from the bones over the past half hour. "He's been formally trained in stealth operations and helped to bring down Fire Nation strongholds in the south." Her parents had no real idea of any details of the War – how were they to know? "He knew what he was doing."
"Well... As foolish and reckless as my daughter was, I must thank you, Lee." Shan spoke graciously. "You have... No idea how appreciated..." She swallowed, and after blotting at her eyes with the corner of her apron, regained her composure. "If there is anything, anything we can do to help, don't hesitate to ask."
"Actually Ma." Jin's voice took on a familiar, wheedling tone. Shan turned to her, arching an eyebrow. "Um, Lee's Uncle was arrested today. He kind of can't go home now, and-"
"Of course, of course." She took Zuko's hand on an impulse, shaking it quickly. "Lee, you stay as long as you need to. We'll squeeze you in somehow."
"I-I won't be here long." Zuko gave Jin a very pointed look. "I was just going to find an empty room at some place and-"
"Oh, don't be silly." Shan returned to her vegetables. "Save your money and bunk with the boys until something good comes up. In fact, I'll get you the address for Jing-Guo's office tomorrow, and you can go see him." With a renewed vigour, she swept the formidable pile of potatoes off the table and into the blackened cooking pot.
"He's our landlord." Jin explained, seeing the momentary confusion on Zuko's face. Gently, she took his arm, removing him from his awkward position at the door, guiding him to take a seat on one of the cushions that ringed the low table. "He's really nice. He charges a fair price for rent, and if something's broken and it's beyond your skill, he'll send someone out to fix it. He has a lot of houses and apartments throughout this side of the Lower Ring, I'm sure there's something he can find for you." Her hand found his, their fingers weaving together. "You'll be able set up a nice little place for yourself."
"Jin." He leaned close to the girl, to breathe in her ear. "I can't stay here forever. I have to join the others sooner or lat-"
"You know what I could go for?" Jin stood up quickly, her grip on Zuko's hand dissolving. He clung on for a second later, and when she rose, his hand was tossed back into his lap. "Tea. What do you think, Lee? Anyone else want something to drink?"
"Sure." He crossed his arms, annoyed. "... Anything but Jasmine."
"Of course." She smiled, not meeting him in the eye. Her mother watched, hawk-eyed, before crying out and seizing Jin by the wrist.
"What happened to your hand?" The woman demanded, holding Jin's arm up to her eye-level, examining the wound closely. "Who did this to you?"
"Oh!" Jin's eyes widened in recognition the girl struck temporarily dumb. "I... It was... A-A um..." She looked over at Zuko, pleadingly, but with a twisting stab in the chest found him cold and unresponsive. "I fell. And hurt myself on a metal spike in the prison." She finished lamely, watching as her mother reached for the pestle and mortar on the mantle.
"Jin, don't try to lie to me." She spoke crisply, working busily as she rooted around the line of tightly screwed jars above the small counter. "Someone attacked you."
"One of the Dai Li." Jin lied, albeit much more convincingly. She watched her mother throw together oils, seeds, leaves in the small stone basin, grinding ingredients into a pungent pulp.
"You're the most foolish girl I've met." Renshu muttered damningly, fiddling about with his pipe. "This is it. Really. Ever privilege you have ever had is gone." Jin paled. "If you think you are going anywhere but work and home, you have another thing coming."
"Oh, come on!" Jin complained. "Dad, that's not fair!" Anger rose in her chest. "You don't understand what hap-"
"Oh, I know what happened!" His pipe was slammed down with a loud thud, the man leaning forward angrily in his chair. "You stupid girl! Thinking you can just rush in, almost getting yourself killed. Look at yourself! Coming home covered in blood!"
"You can't do this!" She shot back, teeth gritted. "I am not a kid, you can't ground me for trying to do the right thing! You have no idea what I have been through today! What we have all been through today!" Jin's voice caught, the last syllable wobbling, but she forced the sensations down, keeping her chin up, and eyes levelled at her father. "If it weren't for us-"
"You are not listening to me!" The man roared, bringing his fist with onto the arm of his chair. The room jumped. "You are the most-"
"No, you are not listening to me!" The tears spilled over. "H-How can you sit here, caring about an injured hand, trying to ground me?" Zuko jumped up with a start, anticipating the outburst. "Dad, we've lost! We've lost everything!" Zuko tried to support the girl, holding her arms, but Jin pulled away.
"What are you talking about?" Renshu snapped, irritated. Shan had stilled her hands, the other boys looking silently at Jin.
"She is talking about the Earth King." Meng finally spoke up after a length of confused silence. "About how he was... overthrown."
"What?" Jiro started. "By who? Long Feng? I bet it was, that sneaky-"
"No, not Long Feng." Zuko resumed the narrative as Meng's head bowed, the young man obviously too overwhelmed for speech. "The Fire Lord's Daughter, Azula." There was a stunned silence. "She infiltrated the palace, a-and led a coup against the Earth King. The Dai Li assisted her. Ba Sing Se has... Fallen to the Fire Nation." Oh, how it made him sick to the stomach, to recite those words.
"B-But the Avatar-"
"He's dead." Jin burst out tearfully, breaking across her twin brother. Again, Zuko took hold of her arms. This time, Jin didn't struggle. She blotted at her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. "Azula k-killed him."
"Hai, take your younger brother to the bedroom." Shan's voice was trembling. "The both of you stay in there until I say so-"
"But Ma-"
"No arguments." Her voice was unbelievably sharp. With a gulp, Hai rose to his feet, clasping the wrist of the youngest boy, who was unable to comprehend the magnitude of what Jin and Zuko had said. Their footsteps were the only sound in the room, coupled with the creaking thud of a door closing. "What happened." Meng sprang out of the chair, as his mothers' knees were clearly weak. "H-How..."
"Azula and her supporters stole the uniforms of Earth Kingdom allies. They entered the castle under pretence, and worked to gain the Earth King's trust. Then Azula persuaded Long Feng to hand control of the Dai Li over to her. She attempted to assassinate the Earth King, but he escaped with Meng's help." The other heads in the room turned to Meng, eyes widening. Zuko swallowed, and continued with his monologue. "The Avatar found out, and tried to stop Azula, but she mortally wounded him." Zuko accepted this, heavy-heartedly. He'd seen the condition he was in, he knew that there was next to no chance he had survived. "His friends escaped with his half-dead body, but Azula has Ba Sing Se." He helped Jin sit down, before kneeling himself, hands twisting in his lap.
"What?" Jiro breathed. "A-And you mean... W-Wait, Meng helped the Earth King?"
"We all did." Meng spoke up heavily. "Lee and Jin helped the Avatar and his friends." He passed his hands over his face.
"It's how I got this." Jin explained weakly, raising her hand. "One of Azula's friends is an expert knife thrower." Shan let out a cry, hands over her mouth. "Only injury we all got, I-I mean, apart from the Avatar..."
"Oh, you two." Shan burst into hopeless tears, overwhelmed. "I-I can't believe you would do something so..."
"Brave?" Jin suggested hopefully, Zuko's arm snaking across her back, squeezing a shoulder.
"Reckless!" She argued, scrabbling about for a handkerchief. "What were you playing at, trying to be heroes!"
"But the Earth King-"
"I don't give two hoots about the Earth King!" The woman snapped, eyes flashing at her son. "I care about you. Nothing is more important to me than you kids, you know that Jin." The girl opened her mouth, with the plain intention of argument, but closed it again after a long moment. "The Earth King is just a lazy, spoiled figurehead. As though things would be any different with the Fire Lord in charge."
"Ma, you can't say that. We co-"
"Actually, she's right." Zuko gave Jin's twin an apologetic look for interrupting. "Usually, when the Fire Nation occupies a territory, they're somewhat civil. As long as you keep your head down and obey whatever new laws they put in place, they're not going to hurt you."
"What kind of new laws." Renshu was suspicious, pale.
"No bending, obviously." Zuko squeezed Jin's shoulder a second time, feeling her lean into his touch. "Um, they'll put in a curfew, but you've already got that... No after-dark gatherings..."
"Outlawed." Shan sniffed, and with a low groan, got off her chair, and onto her knees beside the table, returning to the pestle and mortar. "When my husband and I were children."
"Oh." Zuko blinked. He wasn't aware of that. "Um, taxes will go up, most likely."
"They're at almost half already." Renshu muttered. "The kids don't pay, being day labourers, but if you're contracted like me, or own your own business..."
"You get robbed." Shan finished brusquely. "Jin, hand." The girl extended the limb without hesitation, watching as she first cleaned the wound, with a rag and a bowl of water, before slapping on a tablespoonful of the paste with a wooden spatula, not wanting to get the smell on her hands. Jin hissed in pain, gritting her teeth. She'd forgotten how much it hurt, until the tissue was freshly aggravated.
"The only other big thing is people going missing, but..." Zuko spread his hands out on the table, biting on his lower lip.
"So we'll be fine." Meng was trying to sound calm. "There'll be a false invasion, a parade pretty much as they station their troops, and then we'll be okay."
"Ba Sing Se is far too valuable to destroy." Zuko looked down at his fingernails, and tried to scrape out the crescents of dirt. "Like Omashu. They could have brought it down but they installed a governor and mainly let it be."
"Omashu?" Jiro started. "Wait, when was that taken over? We never heard about that!"
"Not surprised, it's way in the South." Zuko looked at the ceiling, trying to think. "It was some time in winter. Ba Sing Se is – was – the last stronghold left."
"So they've won entirely." Shan pinned the bandage around Jin's hand, sounding near tears. "And the Avatar failed us all again."
"Bastards." Jiro muttered. "All of them. I just don't understand. Was the Fire Nation not wealthy enough already? What do they have to gain from wiping out an entire race and attacking everyone else? It can't be money. Building all of their machines and raising an army would have cost them more than they would ever get from us."
"It's cheaper than you think." Zuko muttered, memories of his childhood coming back to him. "It's hard to explain, and I don't remember the theory quite right. But it can be economically beneficial to wage a war. Especially if you win. And you're forgetting what the Earth Kingdom itself is."
"What?" Jiro frowned.
"Millions and millions of acres of extremely fertile soil." Zuko explained. "It's a giant pantry, big enough to feed the entire population of the world five times over. The Fire Nation is a densely populated chain of volcanic islands. Land is the most expensive and valuable asset there." He remembered the denseness even of the Palace City, the comparatively small state of the Fire Nation palace in comparison to that of Ba Sing Se.
"Doesn't make it right." Jiro muttered with a scowl. "And how do you know this anyway?"
"I... learned it whilst in the Army." Zuko clarified lamely. "Help us to get a picture of the enemy and stuff." He looked down at his hands again, at a loss of how to continue. Was there anything at all, that he could really say, that would alleviate the fear that he knew gripped the family? No. His elbows found the surface of the low table, and he sank his head into his palms, emitting a long sigh. Jin's hand rubbed soothing circles on his back, the girl understanding in an instant the deep-seated source of his unease. Even though he no longer regarded himself as one of those who worked against the Earth Kingdom, he felt some responsibility for what had, and would, happen, even though he had fought so hard to foil his sisters' scheme. What would they all say if I knew? Jin is in love with me, it clouds her judgement. And her brother is just grateful that I rescued him from that prison. The others don't have a connection like that. If they knew that I was Prince Zuko, son of the Fire Lord... He gave an involuntary tremor. They would literally tear me apart, them and the rest of Ba Sing Se, if they could. Public torture and execution at the hands of those one who is trying to save them. The universe tries so hard to work against me, I'm actually about to laugh at the situation. It seems like such a... 'Me' way for things to end. Agni, I'm morbid.
"There's nothing that can be gained by fretting." Shan's mouth settled into a thin, hard line. With a subdued groan, the woman rose from the table, holding the wooden board, piled high with sliced potatoes. "We just need to get on with things. The world isn't going to stop turning over this. You all have work tomorrow and we have to keep our eyes out for something Meng could turn his hand to." She swept the potatoes into the cauldron, eyes crinkling as she gave her eldest a wan smile. "Not right now of course, you need to rest up and put your old weight back on." The ropy tendons spidering across the back of her hands tightened in reflex. "No one will want to hire a young man who is all skin and bone."
"I know." He mumbled, obviously paying his mother very little attention. His gaze was focused very intently on Zuko, trying to calculate what had happened. The gossip at the Dancing Monkey was that he and Jin had been seen atop the Avatar's Bison with the rest of his friends, arcing above the preposterous inner wall, and out of sight, presumably for safety. Why is he here? And does this mean that the Avatar is in Ba Sing Se as well? Is he still alive? He burned to ask the question, but was wary of the implications of such a move. The less his ignorant family knew really, the better. It meant they weren't as likely to raise uncomfortable questions.
"Lee, you all right?" Jin rested her forehead against Zuko's temple, feeling him clench. "Do you want to have a lie down?"
"No." He muttered shortly. His chest felt once more, on the verge of collapse, as though his heart was merely propped up on a few charred matchsticks. He couldn't erase the image of his beloved Uncle from his mind, to his despair.
"Are you worried about missing dinner? Because I can wake you u-"
"I'm not hungry." Zuko cut over Shan without thinking, and cringed away, mortified. He raised his head, cheeks flushing. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just so..." He sank his head back into his hands, the tremors returning in full force.
"Your Uncle?" Jin guessed, whispering in his ear. Zuko nodded glumly, the frail matchsticks swaying as she verbalised his anguish. I can't collapse, not in front of everyone. I have to have my head held high and push everything down. It's hardly a new concept to me... They're never going to understand, so trying for a shred of sympathy isn't going to work. And it's not sympathy I want, anyway. I hate having others fawn all over me, trying to be soothing or compassionate, or whatever. I let people in and then they let me down. But he was kidding himself, really. Zuko was not much of an island, nor did he have any desire to be. He wanted to reach out to Jin, some pathetic, grasping streak lay deep in his soul, expressing the base desire to fling himself in her arms and dissolve into inconsolable tears. But he would never do so. At least, not again, and certainly not in the company of others. Thank Agni I have Jin. Without her, I wouldn't cope. He knew from experience, that when he was cut off completely, barred from human contact, things went pear-shaped very quickly. And wandering through the countryside, with a distinct goal, impossibly far away, but still very clearly etched on his brain, was much easier than what lay before him now, with no future to speak of, his last hopes at regaining his honour little more than ashes dispersing in the wind, and those he desperately tried to ally himself with leaving him alone in the middle of a lake.
You don't know how much you mean. Perhaps, because Zuko would never bring himself to vocalise his feelings. What he was unaware of was that Jin already knew how he felt towards her. He had already laid his soul before her, and she read his emotions eagerly. Right now, she pressed herself against the young male, offering physical comfort with an arm around his shoulders, drawing him in almost forcefully. Around her, the family gradually ebbed into tight, uncomfortable conversation, no longer paying Zuko any heed, respectfully assuming that all that could be told at that time had been told.
"I won't leave you." She breathed the words softly, lips pressing against the shell of his ear in a kiss as the last syllable drifted away. "Not even if you send me away."
"Why would I do that?" He gave an odd, stiff little jerk, a start at what she had said. Drawing back, their eyes locked for a moment.
"I'm sure you would find a reason." She sounded almost defeated, her arm sliding down Zuko's back, and finding his hand, their fingers weaving together.
"No." Zuko said firmly, seized by a momentary flash of panic. "I-I wouldn't. I... Well, you know." He ducked his head, gave a self-conscious cough.
"Yes, I suppose I do." Her voice had a weirdly wry lilt to it, but Zuko let it past, the tension in his shoulders sagging as Jin returned to her previous position, pressed firmly against her side. "And you know too." She gave a half-chuckle, playing Zuko's game. "Even if you can be a bit of a jerk at times."
"Hey." Zuko mumbled half-heartedly, knowing really, that she was right. His other hand found Jin's injured palm, and he traced his fingers over the wound carefully, feeling her wince. "It was the worst luck that you got this... The blood all over your hand was what made you sl..." He trailed off as sick horror dawned, a wave of bile crashing in his chest, rising up his throat.
"Hm?" Jin angled her head so their eyes, inches apart, could meet. Zuko's face was chalk-white. "L-Lee? What's wrong?"
"... It's nothing." He eventually murmured after a long moment of silence. She frowned, unconvinced. "Jin, please, don't concern yourself with it. I'm just thinking crazy thoughts."
"All right." She lied, eyes narrowing in slight suspicion. She returned her face to where it was previously, however, trying to cast her mind back to the midday fiasco, in an attempt to pinpoint what Zuko was getting at.
Zuko, on the other hand, had to close his eyes, struggling to stop the earth wheeling beneath his feet. It made sense, now. The stupid, impossible chain of events, from randomly finding Katara, to his Uncles' easy surrender, and Jin's paralysis and injury... It wasn't luck, nor was it chance. It was something more, something divine. The Spirits themselves must have ordained it. Their influence over human affairs in such a manner was rare, but not unheard of, especially in such decisive moments. Uncle Iroh said it himself, that it was unbelievable luck... He knew. What happened was meant to throw me with the Avatar, and join their side and break away from my father once and all cleanly. And Jin... His head swam, vision murky.
She was meant to die.
It was a quiet night in Chameleon Bay.
Too quiet. Hakoda rested his chin on the apex of his folded leg, the other stretched out across the moon-bleached sand. It was late, the moon having passed its graceful crescendo, arching away from the small band of warriors and sinking into the horizon. Call me paranoid, but I don't like it. After that small fleet of warships last night it died down instantly. No reinforcements, no retaliation. That's not normal. There was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, a knot that had formed as he watched his son ride off in the bison, nearly twenty-four hours earlier and tightened with each passing moment.
Katara was in danger. His hands were clenched, interlocked fingers laced around his raised shin. My daughter... And I didn't go to help her. He'd voiced these concerns to Bato earlier, in the afternoon. His closest friend reassuringly said that Sokka and Aang would take care of everything, after all, who better than the Avatar? Yet the knot in his stomach still grew, causing sleep to elude him, and any sort of food to stick uncomfortably in his throat. If something has happened to her... I'll never forgive myself. Never.
Mind drifting back to warmer, comfortably memories, of his wife, his children as infants, of his mother strong, and healthy, Hakoda didn't notice the tiny black speck in the centre of the moon, growing larger and larger until it let out a roar, several hundred metres away from the beach. The chief jumped, heart seizing as he recognized the Bison. Springing from his seat on the sand, Hakoda made his way across the beach, clouds of sand rising from his boots as he ran to meet his children. Appa landed heavily, and with no further sound rolled over onto his side, eyes closed and mouth open, his consciousness giving way to pure exhaustion. With a gasp, Hakoda made his way to the untidy hudde of children, who slid off Appa's back with a simultaneous yelp. His heart froze as he caught sight of his daughter, on her knees and covered in blood, still looking stunned.
"Katara!" He collapsed at her side, wrapping his arms fiercely about her shoulders and leaning into her hair. Pulling back a little, Hakoda examined her frantically, trying to find the injured source of the blood. "Wh-What happened? Where are you hurt? Are you all right?" He heard a small, voice, barely above a whisper, say "I'm okay", but the plea fell on deaf ears.
"She's all right, Dad." Sokka was on his knees before Hakoda and Katara, resting a hand on her shoulder. Hakoda stilled, turning tear-filled eyes to his son. "It's not her blood." He swallowed, looking sick. "It's..." Sokka turned his attention to Aang, who Hakoda noticed for the first time lay face down in the sand, still motionless after the tumble he had taken. His stomach twisted painfully as Sokka turned the still figure onto his back, the bloodsoaked stain on his chest looking black in the moonlight.
"Wh-What happened?" On instinct, Hakoda tightened his hold on Katara, offering comfort as he felt the girl quake with silent sobs. "Who did this?"
"He took lightning to the chest." Toph, the only one still really capable of coherent speech, explained, dusting herself of as she stood beside Sokka. She was the lucky one – she couldn't see just how injured the boy was. "We all thought he was dead."
"Still beating." Sokka said hoarsely, a hand gently resting on Aang's chest, looking for the psersistent thudding of his heart. "But..." He lifted his hand away, the palm black under the moonlight.
"Getting knocked off Appa opened his wounds again. Katara!" Toph called sharply, directing her blind gaze to the girl, who had fallen to pieces all over again, surrendering herself to the comfort of her father. "Katara you have to close him up again."
"G-Got it." She wiped at her eyes, and stood, swaying a little on unsteady legs. "Sokka, can you-"
"On it." He lifted Aang gently, his face silvery in the moonlight, looking eerily deathlike. "Dad, we need a tent to put him in."
"I'll clear one out." Head still spinning, Hakoda ran ahead, and finding the smallest tent which held supplies. He cleared it quickly, sacks of food, bundles of sharpened spears, spare helmets, furs, and coils of rope tossed carelessly onto the sand. With a start, the man realised how pitch black it was inside, and hurried off to his own large tent to fetch an oil lantern. When he returned, heaving for air and battling an uncomfortable cramp in his stomach that more than likely had nothing at all to do with his recent flurry of movement, the children were piled inside, Katara's silvered hand barely illuminating the gloom.
"Here." He handed the lantern to his son, Sokka taking it with trembling hands. Sky-blue eyes were focused intently on Aang, the lamp throwing half of Sokka's face into shadow. Hakoda was struck by how old he appeared – closer to a man Hakoda's own age than a boy of sixteen. Fatigue, grief, and numb shock carving deep lines in his face as his features were pulled into heart-rendering expressions.
"I need more water." Katara's voice was small, tight. "D-Dad, can you?"
"'Course." Glad to do anything he could, eager to get away from the eerie image of the boy so near death, Hako fled from the tent, and pelted across the sand, heading for the cask of recently-collected river water in his tent.
"This is bad Sokka." Katara's cheeks were wet with tears. "I-I don't know if I can do enough to heal him... There's so much damage..."
"Just... Just do your best." Sokka breathed as he scooted closer to his sister. "I know you can, Katara. No one else could do a better job than you at this."
"Yugoda could." Katara sniffed, lifting her hands away. "This water isn't clean anymore... Where's Dad? How far away is he? Dad?" She arched her neck anxiously, peering through the open tent flap for her father.
"I'm right here." Hakoda said breathlessly, setting down the heavy cask of water with a groan. "How... Is he going? Will he make it?"
"I don't know." Katara drew forth some fresh water, hands illuminated with a soft silver. Aang's shirt lay discarded beside her, a bloodsoaked lump of cloth. "He's lost so much blood... And his lung is just... I don't know what I can do. I don't know how I can repair it..." She wiped at her eyes with a forearm. "I-I don't know what to..." She crumbled, Hakoda taking the girl in his arms before she slumped forward over Aang's still frame. "To do..."
"There's nothing we can." Sokka's face was grey. "Just... Keep him comfortable and..." he covered his face with his hands, bowing his head. "W-Wait for..." He didn't resist the strong arm winding across his shoulders, instead leaning into his fathers' embrace, pressing himself into Hakoda's side while Katara gradually soaked the front of her father's tunic, sobs muffled.
"Um..." Toph spoke up a few minutes later, after she had groped around for another blanket, spreading it across the barely-alive boy and settled beside his head, one hand self-consciously stroking his cheek. The ground beneath her had hardened into a slab of rock, so she could feel the emotions of the others, disentangling truth from lies, and to keep a close eye on Aang's heartbeat. "I don't mean to make things worse... But where's Momo?"
Silence fell through the tent, sobs dying at once as a blanket of shock smothered the siblings. Katara jerked against her father, straightening herself and fixating a blurred gaze on Toph, mouth open.
"He was with me last... After I was c-caught by Ty Lee, h-he just flew away. I-I don't know..." Katara covered her mouth with a hand. "He's somewhere in Ba Sing Se..."
"Oh no." Sokka moaned, shaking his head. "Not... Not Momo..."
"We don't know if he's actually gone, Sokka." Toph was grateful for the hair covering her face, hiding the tears that she knew were splattered all over her cheeks. "Some nice family m-might have taken him in. He's probably some kids pet."
"Momo hates little kids." Sokka breathed, feeling his father's grip tighten sympathetically. "I... Spirits, how can we think about Momo now?"
"'Cause we love Momo too." Toph reasoned, placing her hand on Aang's forehead, feeling his temperature, his heartbeat. "Katara... His heart is slowing... You have to do something. Please."
"I-I'll try." She disentangled herself from Hakoda, taking a deep breath and leaned over the still figure, peering in the eerie yellow light. "It's his lung that's the problem. I might be able to heal it, with time, but I would have to keep his chest open while I do. If he wakes up before then..." There was a collective shudder around the room. "I couldn't do that to him..."
"Just do what you can." Sokka's hand found her shoulder, squeezing gently. "I know you can do it, Katara." Her eyes had drifted closed, hands pressed against her chest. She traced the lines of his chi paths through her mind, feeling the soft rise and fall of his chest, the gentle ebbing tide of his energy push and pull. Scratch that – trying to push and pull, but when it all got to the chest, it was shot to hell. Nothing was flowing right. It was definitely bad. She pressed her lips together, and set her jaw as hard as iron, refusing to give way to tears again.
"This isn't absolutely terrible." Katara breathed, trying to lift her voice. "He's through the worst now. His chi paths look pretty good." She forced a smile on her face, staring at the others though the gloom. Sokka straightened his back, lifting his head. He nodded at his sister, returning the tiny smile. Toph shook her head, wiping at her blind eyes with a forearm.
"I know you're lying, Katara." Toph's voice shook. Sokka's head snapped back to his sister, features sinking in dismay. "I turned the ground beneath us t-to rock when we c-came in so I could see."
"Oh." Katara's voice was very small. She lowered her gaze to her knees, Sokka's eyes boring into her. "I-I..." She let out a long breath. "I don't know if he'll see the dawn guys..."
"No." Sokka shook his head. "No. There's gotta be something! Something you can do or-"
"Sokka, I've done all I can!" Katara protested, balling her hands into fists. "I-I'm not a miracle worker, I don't have any more magic water, I don't have the power of a spirit, I don't have anything!" Sokka clambered out of the tent without another word, the other three sitting in silence.
"Go Dad." Katara murmured shortly, feeling her father's breath quicken. He nodded silently, pushing past his daughter and into the moonlit beach. Sokka hadn't walked far, only about twenty feet, before sinking into a huddle on the sand, head between his knees.
"Sokka." Hakoda called out quietly, thinking of the men sleeping – or perhaps trying to – in the long row of tents along the shore. "Sokka are you..."
"It's my fault." Sokka moaned, Hakoda approaching him quietly. "Aang is going to die. He's going to die and it is all my fault..."
"You weren't the one that shot him, son." Hakoda murmured consolingly, standing a foot or so behind him. "Nothing you did or could have done would change anything."
"That's not true." He rubbed frantically at his eyes. "Dad... Aang..." Sokka gulped. "He was going to kill her. He'd fixed her to the floor and was about to..." He rubbed at his wrist, which still pained him significantly. He'd forced it out of his mind, retied his wrist guards to stem the bleeding, and left it at that, and now the action was over and the shock subsiding, it returned, throbbing painfully. "And I stopped him... And he was distracted by that and she... If I hadn't done that, she would be dead... We would have won and Aang would be-"
"What?" Sokka and Hakoda froze, two pairs of blue eyes sliding to the figure standing a little way off, who had left the tent in curiosity. "What did you do?"
"Katara." Sokka felt dizzy. "I-I... I had to! Aang-"
"He is dying!" Katara had promised herself that she wouldn't again succumb to weeping, that she was strong enough to cope without collapsing, but her chest heaved with sobs. "I-Is this better? Aang won't see the dawn!"
"Katara, please." He begged, getting up on his knees, face turned to his sister. "I-I had no choice! Aang is a monk, he-"
"It was not your place to step in, Sokka!" Katara shouted, voice streaming along the beach. "It was not your fight!"
"I was not going to let Aang kill her!" Sokka stood up, wavering slightly on lax knees. He locked his gaze with the girl, lower lip trembling violently. "It's not that she didn't deserve it Katara," He spoke fast, loudly, refusing to let her interject. "Aang would never forgive himself for taking a life! You should have seen him. Y-You should have seen how horrified he was for coming so close! He wouldn't have been able to take it!"
"He would have been okay!" Katara dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, sniffing. Hakoda had rushed to her side, trying to take her into his arms and console her, but she pushed her father away, to intent on arguing with Sokka. "He would be alive, he would be unharmed, and the Earth Kingdom would be safe!"
"Well then, I am sorry!" In the tent, Toph had buried her head between her knees, humming loudly in order to drown out the fight. "I am sorry that I tried to save Aang from himself! I'm sorry I did what he told me to, and I am so very sorry that I respected and followed his beliefs!"
"If you couldn't stomach seeing Azula die, then-"
"What?" His lips were pursed in a scowl. "Did you think I didn't want to see her crushed?" Hakoda was very, very still, watching in shock as a new blanket of quiet, smouldering rage smothered his son. "She captured Suki Katara. Suki." Katara's eyes slowly widened. "Suki, who left her home, who joined the War, because of me. Wh-who could be dead, tortured, imprisoned... I-I don't know! All I could think about when I was in there was her! I wanted to see Azula suffer Katara, for all the lives she's ruined, the people she's torn apart..." Sokka closed his eyes, trying so hard to hold his composure. "No one wants to see her face the consequences more than I do, Katara. For Suki and for Aang. Don't you dare say that I did this for Azula!"
"W-Well, wh-"
"Katara, shut up!" Sokka grabbed her arms, losing control. "Why do you always have to say something! Why are you putting this on me! Why can't you just accept I'm right!"
"Aang is dying!" She attempted to wrench herself free, but her brother's grasp on her sleeves was unyielding. "That is not right Sokka! How can you, you of all people, say that this is right?" Katara managed to pull herself free, the sound of tearing cloth an awful screech in the nightly chill. "I can't even-" She turned away, and ran. Clouds of dirt rose from her heels, her desperate footfalls little more than soft thuds. Sokka's head sank into his hands, the teenage boy erupting in a growling moan of grievous exasperation.
"Sokka." Hakoda's hands, heavy as stone, rested on his sons' shoulders. His fingers curled into the tendons, his chin resting on the untidy wolfs' tail. "You..." The man pulled away from the brief embrace, unable to form the words in his mouth. They stuck like glue, a foul clump in the back of his throat.
"Go." Sokka muttered bitterly. "Go and... Comfort her or something." He closed his eyes, Hakoda's stilted breath as he jogged along the sandy bay to the cluster of rocks at the bottom of the cliffs louder than his tread. He stood for a long time, drinking in the peaceful silence of the beach. It was almost five minutes before Hakoda had managed to catch up with the girl, their voices little more than vague murmurs on the edge of his hearing, indistinct.
"I was right." Sokka muttered, kicking at a rock. "They weren't there, they didn't know-"
"If they don't know, then how do you expect them to understand?" Toph's deadpan voice caused Sokka to jump, craning his neck to stare at her. "What?"
"Whose side are you on." It sounded bitterer than Sokka intended, and he drew back with a wince, turning around fully to regard the girl who had emerged from the tent as the argument died down.
"Duh. The side that sees sense." Toph felt Sokka sit down with a long sigh, stretching his legs forward in the sand, leaning back on his hands. "I was there Sokka. You have no idea how crazy he went. How guilty he was when he realised that he was inches from murder. You don't need to justify yourself to me."
"But Dad and Katara-"
"Don't get it." Toph's voice was quivering. "Sokka, don't grudge them for this."
"Why not?" He turned to look up at her. "She's screaming at me as though I personally shot Aang with lightning, and Dad... He is agreeing with her! Do you know how that hurts? Do you have any idea? To have your own father... Turn against you?"
"Yes." She sat beside him quietly, one hand on his arm. "Sokka, if you two aren't speaking, then what's left of us?" Toph leaned against his shoulder, toes flexing and relaxing in the sand.
"I don't know." Sokka couldn't breathe. "If Aang is... If he can't..." He sniffed, trying to stem his runny nose. "Then we'll have to go to the North Pole and find... Wait... Until we know who..." He felt the girl nod against her shoulder, heard the gentle shifting of the sand as she wove her fingers through the grains. "We can... We can take you home, Toph." His heart was a stone. "Back to your family. You left for Aang. A-And if he's not here, then you don't have to stay."
"Don't be an idiot." Sokka cringed as she punched him in the arm. Hard. "You think I would leave you all vulnerable?" Her face lit up, as bright as a tomato, although visibility was difficult in the moonlight. She turned away, hoping that he wouldn't see, hoping he hadn't noticed the catch in his voice. "My place isn't at home anymore."
"I know." Sokka murmured, heavily. "Being here... With Dad and all the other men... It's been everything that I've ever hoped for... And yet... There's something missing. Maybe it's because I've been waiting to act as a man amongst them, I've built them up so high and made them out as demigods... But it's just not..." Sokka sighed, unable to articulate his emotions. "How I thought..."
"Welcome to the real world." Toph's head had regained its position on his shoulder. "Isn't it terrible." Her eyelids lowered, the girl slowly succumbing to pure exhaustion. "E-E-Everyone's right but you." The statement was punctuated by a jaw-cracking yawn. "Ugh."
"Go to bed, Toph." Sokka sighed, giving her forearm a short, comforting rub. "Tomorrow's going to be a big day... whatever happens..."
"What about you?" Toph challenged, one eyebrow cocked, withdrawing slightly from the teenager. "You're hardly perky."
"In a minute." Sokka drew his knees up to his chest, arms encircling his shins. "I won't be long. Besides, someone should be in there with Aang..."
"Oh, all right." Grudgingly, Toph rose to her feet, brushing the sand from the back of her clothes. "Just don't stay up all night mooning over Aang and Katara. Please."
"I won't." His voice was a creak in his throat as Toph walked off, Sokka raising his gaze to stare at the moon, hanging low against the ocean. "Why Yue..." He leaned his chin on his knees, lower lip drooping. "Why would the Spirits want this to happen? How can this fit into their divine plan? How can Aang dying be good for the world? What would you want with Mum and Suki? I don't understand." He blinked rapidly as the moon began to blur. "Are they even watching over us? Or have we been left to our own devices all this time... Ugh, the stupid Spirits!" He muttered the curse to himself, teeth gritted. "They can't even defend themselves, look at Tui and La... If it wasn't for Aang we wouldn't even have a moon anymore... What on earth do they want with him?" If there were any more rocks around, he would have thrown them. Instead, Sokka stewed silently in his own murky puddle of doubt and agitation. He'd always been so practical, ignoring spiritual magic at every possible opportunity as it fell outside his comprehension. It was only over the past few months that he dared to believe that maybe the spirits were capable of being physical beings with some influence over the world, opening his mind to a concept that previously had seemed impossible to him.
If this is meant to be some kind of setup by the spirits, then they are the sickest, most twisted beings out there. Sokka returned his gaze to the moon. Forget them. Forget the faith and the trust and the rest of it. It's crap. It's all lies and I'm not going to pretend that I believe it anymore. He lay on his back, stretched out amongst the sand. Curled his fingers. Felt the little grains infiltrate his boots.
Not having something to believe in was so much easier. Sokka mused on this silently, trying to calm himself, allowing his senses to be overwhelmed with the steady pulse of the ocean.
I can't afford to be like this. Aang can't afford to have me like this. And Katara, she needs me. Well, she will when she gets over herself and realises the truth. I don't know what she's going to think, if she'll say it's completely my fault or somehow divinely ordained... I wish I had advice from someone about this. Some kind of elder I could talk to. He would have even settled for General Iroh at this point. Somebody to reassure him, explain things and given spiritual guidance. It should be Dad... Who does this for me. He should be the one that I look up to in times like this... And he doesn't know. He can't help me. And it is so damn frustrating. He stood up, joints creaking, and made his way across the sand, back to the small tent. Sokka wanted to bury his face in the pelts, inhaling the smell of treated hide and fur, immersing himself in the childhood memories he inevitably associated with such odours. I'm not sure if I'm really ready for all of this. It was perhaps slightly proud of Sokka to say so, but he did think of himself as the leader of their little group of outcasts. If he had an idea or opinion about something, a possible travel route, when to stop, what to do next, the others usually stopped to listen to him. Sokka was the one who encouraged the others, offering words of advice or support. He was the eldest, the one who strived the hardest to protect the others at every possible opportunity. He was the most practical, the most forward-thinking of the group, the tactician and strategist. And yet I'm the one that's taking this the hardest. Sokka pushed his way inside the tent, finding Toph lying on her back beside Aang, her blind eyes wide open. She's taking this so well, I don't know why but Toph is maintaining such a cool exterior. She's trying so hard to keep us together... for all the good that it's doing. Katara had crumbled, of course, but her grief was understandable, primal. One of her closest friends was on the verge of death, and she was unable to intervene. Her beliefs wouldn't have been rattled to the core. She wouldn't have suffered the same existentialist crisis that Sokka was experiencing. He felt as though his soul had been turned inside out.
"It's steadied." Toph whispered in the gloom, obviously referring to Aang's heartbeat. "I don't wanna give you a false hope, but if he can hold on..."
"All we can do is hope and pray." Sokka stretched out along the thick fur, turning his face into the pelt so he could inhale deeply. "If anyone is actually listening." His voice was muffled, indistinct. Toph wasn't sure of what he had said.
"Katara would have calmed down by the morning." She reached out, found Sokka's shoulder, and gave a tight squeeze. "We'll um... We'll, have more information by then. We'll know what to do."
"Thanks Toph." Sokka turned his face in her direction, so he could speak to her clearly. Her arm withdrew. "You're a champion."
"No problem." Her face reddened in the dark, despite herself.
It was the creaking that caused Jin to start.
She had woken from a fitful sleep some time before, and was unable to resume her slumber, mind too plagued with various fleeting thoughts and hypotheticals. She turned on her side, in a foetal position with her knees drawn to her chest. Jin would have called them nightmares, but she knew she was wide awake, and knew that the images of burning buildings that flashed across her mind were her first layer of thought in the minds' eye, and not the tangled, confusing web of the subconscious. There were no symbols – what she feared most of all was that her home would burn.
She sat up in bed as she heard the sound, realising instantly who had just made his way into the main room, unaware of which particular saggy floorboards groaned under the weird and how to move the door so it didn't squeak. Jin threw back the covers, finding the soft green puddles of clothing on the floor, pulling them on as she walked, lightly yet quickly so she wouldn't awaken the others in the house or alarm them further.
Her heart tightened as she passed through the doorway, seeing Zuko sitting up in her mothers' rocking chair by the fire. She was as silent as a cat, a vague outline in the thick darkness, and he had no heed of her until her hand rested lightly on his shoulder. Zuko jumped, gasping loudly and jerking like a stiff puppet under Jin's hand.
"It's okay." She breathed, close to his ear, feeling him relax. "I heard you come out here." Jin slid on to Zuko's lap, feeling him tremble at the contact. "What's wrong?"
"I..." Zuko's voice was a hoarse rasp, as dry as sandpaper. With a wince, he swallowed, and tried again. "I had a nightmare." There were no reservations. He wasn't going to dry and deny what he had experienced, not when she indirectly played such a central role. "It was... Bad."
"Tell me." Her breath was warm on his neck, sending a barrel of shivers coursing up his spine. "Please."
"I... I dreamed that I was the Fire Lord." His hand groped around in the darkness until he found hers, clinging to her almost helplessly. "And... I was in the Palace, just walking, a-and... There was a bad fire." Zuko pressed his forehead against her temple, seeking both physical and emotional warmth. "And I was running around, trying to find you."
"Me?" Jin was confused. Why would I be in the Fire Nation Palace at all, unless I was some kind of prisoner? Zuko nodded against her, and with a short little intake of breath, continued his story.
"And... I finally found you... You were in the middle of the throne room, surrounded by fire. And I couldn't move. I don't know why but my feet were just rooted to the floor. I tried to bend the flames away but they didn't react at all... I couldn't do anything and then your clothes caught fire and..." Zuko trailed off, stewing in deep silence for a few long moments. "You walked through the flames, towards me, all lit up, and I tried to run away." He swallowed, feeling more than slightly ill. Jin squeezed his hand, comfortingly. "But then you grabbed my sleeve and set it on fire... I couldn't move an inch and I was watching myself burn... It took so long to wake up." His voice cracked on the last syllable, and Zuko lapsed into silence, his chin trembling.
"Oh honey, it was just a dream." The pet name slid easily off her tongue, slightly uneasy to Zuko's ears. "Dreams don't mean anything. You had a really long and stressful day, remember?"
"... Yeah." Zuko agreed lamely, staring into the thick darkness. It seemed a confirmation of his fears, all rolled into one nightmarish scenario, the fire he couldn't control, his title of Fire Lord, Jin's death, all three played heavily on his mind. "I guess."
"You should go back to sleep." Jin kissed Zuko's nose.
"I'm not tired." Zuko lied, glad that the girl couldn't see his drooping eyes in the dark. "I can't face going back to bed... lying there with only my thoughts to keep me company..."
"Then come into my room." Jin stood up slowly, taking Zuko's hands. She was infinitely grateful that he was so naive, unable to understand the possible connotations. "My bed isn't that narrow. You won't be alone in there."
"... All right." Zuko agreed, far more tired than he let on. Grateful, he followed Jin, who stepped easily through the dark, the teen doing his best to follow her catlike steps. "You don't have to look after me like this you know."
"Oh, I know." The only sound her door made was a gentle click as she pushed it closed. "It's not looking after, Zuko." He had fumbled his way to her bed, and sat on the edge, lighting the candle at her bedside by pinching the wick. He gave an odd jerk at the use of his real name, the eerie shadows of the candle hollowing his cheeks. With the scar and the angular interplay of light and darkness, Zuko looked nearly threatening.
"Don't call me that." He murmured softly, watching the wax soften in the hollow of the candle.
"Oh, yeah." Jin winced, forgetting. "Someone else might be up and hear us."
"No," Zuko shook his head, watching as Jin sat on the edge of the bed beside her.
"I mean... just don't call me by that name at all. Please."
"Why?" She seized his hand, and turned to face him, sounding stricken. "It's still your name, you can't forget your real identity completely."
"There is nothing wrong with a life of peace and prosperity..." Zuko mumbled in a glaze, eyes following the tiny, flickering flame. "It's what... What Uncle said. He's right."
"What do you mean?"
"I've been thinking." He turned from the candle, to look at her. "Jin... I can't help them. Every time I try, it's thrown back in my face. And it hurts. It hurts a lot more than you could ever imagine. Even when I've done everything I can to clear my name, they still won't accept me. I risk my life for them and I don't even get a thank you. Nothing I ever do will make them think that I'm anything other than a foul bastard and I can't keep pretending otherwise. What else am I meant to do? Go out and find other allies? I have no one, Jin. No one who would give a damn whether I lived or died, apart from Uncle and you."
"No." Jin argued, feeling a lump rise in her throat. "You are a Prince, if you choose to fight, there will be people to back you up!"
"Who?" Zuko demanded in a low whisper. "The Earth Kingdom? I saved a town, I physically defeated the soldiers who terrorised them, in front of the citizens, but the moment they found out who I was, I was completely shunned. They have no reason to fight for me. And why would they? Look at my history with them, I have so many examples of brutality and violence, but only one case where I helped them."
"But-"
"The Fire Nation? No chance. My Uncle had people that he could call on, but not me. I'm a nobody there. Just an outcast child who never had any real chance of inheriting the throne. Even if there were some out there that wanted a revolution, they wouldn't dare. The punishment if they were caught is too great. Nothing is worth that risk."
"You can't think like this." Jin pleaded. "The world needs you!"
"Well, maybe 'the world' should have thought about that before treating me the way it did. I'm tired, Jin. I'm tired of running all around the world, chasing down dreams that just end up exploding in my face." He slumped against her, breathing ragged. "I-I want my Uncle."
"Oh, of course you do." She buried her nose in the jet-black hair, at a loss of what to say. Zuko had really been turned inside out after the past events of the day, and left as what Jin could only describe as a fragmented husk. How could he have endured that time and again, day after day, picking himself up again, brushing himself off and pursuing the same futile task with vigour? But he can't... Not anymore.
And it made Jin feel ill. It was so much easier to deny the War, even just twenty-four hours ago, when it seemed as though it was in another country, another world, so isolated was the walled city. How stupid could I be, to think that? People have been dying by the thousands and now that Ba Sing Se is gone, it's only going to get worse. There is no safe haven left, nothing, and we only have a few months until the comet comes, and the Fire Nation destroy everything...
"You can't do this." Jin begged again, feeling her eyes sting. "Please, Zuko." He tensed. "I'm going to call you Zuko, because that is your name." She argued firmly. "Y-You can't sit here and forsake everything because you've been let down... N-Not when we're so close to complete destruction."
"Don't cry." Zuko swallowed. "Please, b-because you'll probably set me off and I can't..." He blinked, trying very, very heard to push the ember back down.
"I know you've faced the raw end for so long." Jin sniffed. "I know things are hard, but if you give up now, then that only means that Ozai won, in the end. Zuko, with the Avatar gone, you are the only person left who can stand up to him. You're the only one with a hope."
"Why?" Zuko muttered bitterly, withdrawing from Jin. "You don't know that, Jin. I'm not the greatest fire bender in the world, I'm not the most skilled fighter and I'm certainly not the strongest. Why the hell does the world have to sit on my shoulders?"
"You're wrong." Jin breathed softly. "You are the strongest. I don't know anyone capable of going through what you have, picking yourself back up, and starting again. You're the bravest. And what you have against Ozai is more personal than anyone." Her fingers touched his scar. "You have the most to lose."
"Stop trying to change my mind." Zuko jerked his head, to look at her. Jin drew back a little, startled. "You don't know Jin. You can't possibly ever know what it's like to face that. They left us. They left us in the middle of Lake Laogai, knowing that Ba Sing Se is crawling with Azula's spies. They left us in more danger than ever, they left us with you barely alive, they left us without a thing. Now you sit there and tell me how I can be allies with people who are willing to do that to me."
"Hypocrite." Jin bristled, earning a frozen stare from Zuko. "Come on. You followed them around the world, trying to capture them, attacking them constantly. Did you ever think they would really trust you?"
"I thought I'd done enough to show that I could be trusted." Zuko argued in a low mutter. "I thought risking my life for them was enough."
"And it was." Jin's arms encircled Zuko's shoulders. "Until you attacked Katara. Do you think they were really shocked or outraged about that, or did they just use it as a reason to cast you – us – away?"
"So there never was a hope." Zuko's eyes were downcast. "I never should have tried."
"No!" Jin's long fingers found his chin, and the girl directed Zuko to look her in the eyes. "You can never stop trying. I know it's not the same, but I've been dragged through the mud too, Zuko." Her eyes lowered for a moment, dwelling on a horrific internal pain. "I honestly had a period of weeks when I just wanted to crawl into bed and die. But I didn't. And neither will you. You can't give up and forsake everyone." It was an impulse, really, that drove her to kiss him. He was taken by surprise at the motion, and sat very still as she drew away slowly, cheeks reddening. "And you won't be alone this time. You don't need the Avatars' friends. They're good fighters, but you'll find others. And I'll do everything that I can to help you."
"... We should get some sleep." Zuko murmured after a long period of silence. "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted." He pulled back the covers of the bed, looking thoughtful. "Do you mind if I take the wall side?" Wordlessly, Jin nodded, her shoulders slumped, heart in her stomach. Zuko crawled into the bed with the clothes he had on, the knee-length undershorts and short sleeveless tunic. Jin pulled off her clothes, leaving the underdress, face turned away so he couldn't see the bitter, angry tears rolling down her cheeks. Defeated, extinguished, she climbed into the bed beside him, turning away and facing the room. She wiped her cheeks on the thin pillow, and clamped her teeth down hard on a corner of the sheet, utterly destroyed. "Um... Night."
"Night." Her voice was a trembling mess, and she winced at the harsh syllable, before biting back down on the corner of her sheet. Zuko killed the small candleflame with a wave of his hand, plunging the room into darkness. He rolled over, and faced the wall. He was past emotion, past feeling hurt, betrayed, ruined, and angry. Zuko was too tired and numb to register any further thought. Images, words, floated through his mind, but he paid them no heed. His lips still tingled from the kiss.
Jin lay wide-eyed, with her teeth grinding on the corner of the cotton sheet. I won't see you go down Zuko. I'm not going to let you give up hope. I'm going to make sure that you defeat your evil bastard of a father, take your rightful place on the throne, and rid the world of this War. I remember one of my cousins said once, that as long as the Avatar was alive, there was always hope. Well, he's dead now, or good as, but that doesn't mean our hope is dead. Not when we have you.
Jin's lip made shapeless words, silently in the dark. Help us, Zuko.
Oh, such mediocre quasi-spirituality.
Next update will be MUCH sooner. I had a lot of difficulty with this one. It's one of those important moments that really defines where the story is going to go, tone, etc. so there was a lot of pressure for it to be kick-ass awesome. I hope you guys think it came out okay.
Also, no one noticed that Momo was gone. Shame on you all.