Oh boy is my face red.

Four months. No excuses, I know. I won't try to give any.

Disclaimer: I own nothing here, but you knew that.

"Jin." Shan left the door ajar as she slipped into the room. "Jin, it's time to..." Her breath died in her throat at the sight of the male draped along the edge of the bed. The blankets had slid down past his hips, one arm wrapped around Jin's neck. His nose was buried in her hair. Something knotted, deep in her stomach, pressure building in her chest. But had she really expected anything else from her? Shan cleared her throat loudly, watching as Zuko rose first, started. Jin was a little slower to rise, pressing her face in the pillow with a groan.

"Good morning." Shan set the candle down on the bedside table coolly. Zuko drew himself against the wall, shaking. "Sleep well?" Jin finally rolled from the pillow on to her back. It took the body of warmth beside her to realise what was happening, that they had, for all intents and purposes, been 'caught', and immediately sprang from the bed.

"Ma." She held her hands out before her. "Look, I still have my clothes on, so does Lee. I know this looks bad, but we didn't do anything, I swear, we-"

"Just shared a bed? You?" The woman was livid. "I thought we were over this Jin! I thought that after everything you would know better."

"She's being serious." Zuko spoke up, trying to keep his voice steady. "I didn't... I would never compromise Jin like that, I swear... We've never gotten close to anything like..." Flustered, he fell silent, wishing that he was wearing more of a shirt.

"Ma, I-"

"Come and eat." She turned away, without another word. The door was shut quietly.

"Damn." Jin breathed, sitting down on the edge of the bed, head in her hands. "She still doesn't trust me... Not that I've ever given her proof, I mean I always used to promise that I was straight and what was I doing behind her back? Why would she even pretend to believe my crap anymore?" Zuko climbed across the bed, taking a careful seat at her side. He made sure their bare arms weren't touching.

"I can talk to her."

"No, no, that's no good." Jin sighed. "She won't believe you. I know you're fantastic and innocent and haven't tried anything, but she doesn't. And she thinks that she knows how the minds of boys in this city work. As though chasing girls' skirts are all they're interested in, all day every day."

"Well, I'm not technically from here, so maybe she's right."

"Of course she's right." Jin stood up, padding across to her little clothing rack. "She's always right, whenever we disagree, she comes out top. She's my mother. You know how it is."

"Well, no." Zuko contradicted her quietly, hands clasped in his lap. He kept his eyes down. "Not really... Mum and I never argued..."

"Of course you didn't." Jin sighed, pulling on the patched dress. "Your childhood was perfect for a whole nine years." She gave him a tiny smile, but it quickly dissolved, the corners of her lips drooping. "You had innocence." Jin sounded wistful.

"What do you mean?" Zuko frowned, watching as she fumbled with the thin sash around her waist. "It wasn't exactly perfect, even before..."

"You know Chang can't go anywhere by himself?" Jin spoke up, stepping into her shoes, wincing as the busted hem split further. "There has be an older kid with them at all times. He spends at least half of his days cooped up inside, it's not safe."

"You think the Royal Family would be safer?" Zuko arched an eyebrow. "There was an assassin plot, once. A group of radicals conspired to blow us up during the Summer Solstice festival. My grandfather had a hard time deciding on what to do with them. My father said they and their families should have faced public torture and execution, as a warning to the citizens. Un... U-Uncle Iroh said that it should be hushed up and they should be taken care of quietly, lest they be made martyrs of. Azulon went with the quiet approach."

"They told you about that?" Jin blinked. "How old were you?"

"I was eight." Zuko explained, sitting his fingers burrowing under his legs. "And I didn't hear anything, Azula did. She was really short for her age for a long time. When she was eight, she looked five. No one simply saw her. So, she had a way of sneaking around and getting into places and hearing things she shouldn't." His stomach contracted, painfully. Dad's going to kill you... Really, he is...

"Ugh. Your mother must have gone nuts." Jin sat down on the edge of the bed again. "If my Ma knew anyone even though about laying a finger on her kids, she'd go after them. She... Depends on us, I think. Way too much. It's actually kind of stressful, know what I mean?"

"I think so." Zuko nodded. "Yes. I know what you mean." His fingers curled into the worn coverlet, knuckles digging into the underside of his thighs. "U-Uncle Iroh... He was like that. If you saw him Jin... W-when I lied to him and said he was a traitor... He died inside, and you have no idea..."

"Zuko." Jin pressed her lips against his ear. "Stop." She breathed lightly. One hand dug around and found his, fingers interlocking. "Please."

"I-I can't-"

"Yes, you can." Jin sighed, pressed his forehead against his temple. A stubborn little pulse throbbed against her skull. "They won't kill him. Like you said, he has friends. Won't those friends do their best to try and break him out?"

"... Maybe." Zuko relented with a mumble. It was the best Jin was going to get, so she took it.

"Look, I have to get going to work." She rose, reluctantly. "I'll be back in the middle of the day. Please Zuko, promise me that you won't do anything stupid." She still had his hand, and tightened her grasp pleadingly.

"All right." He sighed as she released his hand, stepping back in triumph. He flopped against the pillow, hands over his face. "But I can't just sit here..."

"What happened to peace and prosperity?" Jin wondered how much of last night he remembered. "Just take a damn day. Relax. Go doze in the sun. Read something. Meditate. When was the last time you let yourself unwind?"

"I don't let my guard down." Zuko muttered, his voice muffled. "At least, I try."

"I noticed." Jin said mournfully, in a voice so low she wasn't sure he heard. She lingered in the doorway for a few more moments, but it looked as though he'd shut down. Maybe he was falling asleep. Jin swallowed deeply, and turned away, sure to close the door behind her. It was frustrating, aggravating, insulting. He still wasn't letting her in, not completely. She thought the barriers had crumbled after the day before, but it seemed that Zuko thought it best to throw them back up. Maybe it was pride. Maybe he didn't trust her. Now? After he'd shown so much of himself? He'd emptied his soul for her. He wasn't going to shut her out now. Not intentionally, at least.

Hypocrite. Jin grit her teeth. As though she didn't have things she kept.

It was dawn.

Katara moved slightly as the first beams of light pushed stubbornly at her eyelids, a dull, ember-red. She groaned, burying her face further into the comfort of her fathers' tunic in an attempt to escape from the light. Hakoda's lip twitched in a small smile at the movement, and he looped an arm around her shoulders, drawing the girl close. How long had it been, since his daughter had drifted off to sleep in his arms? It was soon after the death of his wife. That much he remembered. His stomach contracted at the thought, and he focused instead on Katara, who had given up on the idea of sleeping in the sand, and pulled herself away, rubbing at her eyes.

"... Sorry Dad." She breathed, sitting up by herself and bringing her knees to her chest. She referred to the outburst of the night before with downcast eyes, not wanting to look her father straight on. "I was just so... I..."

"There is nothing you have to apologize about." He said softly, squeezing her shoulder. "You wanted only to protect Aang."

"He's right though." Katara sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of his hand. "I-I know that, of course. I'm so stupid! Aang is always so terrified of hurting people, I-I mean he doesn't even eat meat, or swat at spiderflies." She froze, eyes widening. "Aang!"

"Katara, wait!" Hakoda started, jumping up as Katara started to sprint along the beach. He groaned, shaking his head. "Katara please, just wait a moment!" He tried to keep his voice low, aware that his men were probably trying to get some sleep. "Listen, I don't think-"

"How is he?" Katara burst into the tent breathlessly, finding Aang laid out on the furs, his head in Tophs lap, angled upwards just slightly. Sokka had parted his lips with one hand, trying to manipulate the lax jaw enough to accept the rum of the wooden cup.

"Hey." Sokka gave a wan smile in the half-light. "He's still breathing. We thought it would be a good idea to try and give him some water, but he's not taking it." He gestured at the water slopped across Aang's face and neck. "Uh, can you?"

"Of course." Katara sank to her knees beside her brother, who held Aang's mouth slightly open, enough for her to bend the silvery ribbon of water past his lips and down his throat. "And Sokka..." She looked up at her brother. "Listen. I'm really-"

"It's okay." He held up one hand, not needing to hear the apology. "We're all ragged and worn out and stressed. I could have been less of a jerk about it, too."

"But you were right." Katara sighed. "Imagine if he had done it. If he had... killed her. He won't even learn firebending after what he accidentally did to me. If he ended Azula's life, then he wouldn't fight again, ever. And then we would have Ozai to contend with."

"Ah, we could take him, Katara." Toph chuckled in the dark. "You nullify his firebending and I'll sneak up from behind and bam!" She punched her fist. "Pin him down, knock him out, and you can deliver one of those killer icicles, right in the chest."

"Toph, don't!" Katara complained with a shudder. "Don't even joke about it. It's not funny."

"Look, I'm just trying to raise a point." Toph muttered, defensively. "We can rule Aang out of the picture for the invasion plan, at least. He'll be bedridden for months. What if he's not mobile before the comet?"

"I don't think the comet matters anymore." Sokka stared at the other pale faces in the tent. "Firelord Ozai was going to use it to win the war, right? Well... He has Ba Sing Se now. What is there left to conquer? Maybe it's best if we lie low – real low – for four or five years, so Aang isn't just healthier, but older. And stronger."

"How can you say that, Sokka?" Katara argued. "People are dying every day! Both Ozai and his psychotic daughter need to be taken out as soon as possible."

"Okay." Toph tried to regain her original point. "Look, it's way too early to think about anything like that. Katara, if Aang won't be well enough, and you won't do it, then who will? Who else has even a chance of facing them and coming out on top?"

"Pakku?" Sokka suggested. "Maybe Bumi? Uh... Let me think..."

"What about General Iroh?" Toph pushed carefully, knowing she was treading very dangerous ground. "We all know he's a damn good bender. And he's on our side."

"I... Yeah." Katara conceded grudgingly. "You know... he never actually did anything to hurt us. I hardly ever remember seeing him back when Zuko was chasing us. And remember at the North Pole? He knows more about the Spirit World than any of us. He knew about Yue."

"Iroh's not so bad." Sokka pulled one of the woven blankets carefully over Aang, tucking it under his sides. "It's his bloody nephew we have to watch out for. And I know what you're going to say," Sokka looked at Toph sternly as she opened her mouth. "No way. Not ever."

"But-"

"Okay Toph." Katara started, pushing her hair back. It needed rearranging, the braid was coming loose and stray hairs flopped all about her face. "Picture this. He joins us. It's the final battle. We're in the palace, it's worn down to one of us and Zuko against Ozai. He knows that he's not going to make it. So he pleads to his son, he says that if Zuko betrays us right there, then his status and honour will be restored, all past digressions will be forgotten. What would Zuko say to that?"

"He would tell him to shove it." Toph muttered stubbornly. "Come on guys, haven't you even thought things through? I mean the future. Who is going to be the next Firelord? You can't just leave that position vacant."

"I didn't..." Sokka trailed off.

"Didn't think about that." Toph shook her head. "I figured." She sighed, blowing at the thick curtain of hair in her face. "What do you think, Hakoda?"

"What?" Hakoda, who had been waiting and listening outside, poked his head in, startled. "What do you mean?"

"You know more about leadership and responsibility than us kids." Toph reasoned. "Who should be the next Firelord when we win? Should it be Zuko, Iroh, or someone new? How do you guys pick a chief down in the south?"

"Well, the current chief, when he knows and feels that he is too old to continue his responsibilities, declares the next chief at a ceremony. It's sometimes his son, but not always. It's certainly not unheard of for a chief's son to be passed over if he's unworthy. It's not based on blood, but on skill and merit." Hakoda explained, taking a seat opposite his children. "But times for us are hard. Desperate. Say I give up my chiefdom at fifty, which would make Sokka twenty-eight. He would be the only man in the southern tribe at an age I would consider appropriate for the responsibilities. The men would be past their prime, and our other sons would be too young."

"Huh. Great." Sokka muttered somewhat gloomily. "So I'm pretty much the only option then."

"Sokka," Hakoda said gently. "If there were fifty other men in our tribe the same age, you would still be my first pick. Not because you are my son, but because you have proven yourself." He reached across Aang's still form, found Sokka's elbow, and squeezed.

"That's great." Toph tried to bring the conversation back around, Sokka in a relative state of euphoria. "But can the Fire Nation do that? You've seen the propaganda, right? How the Royal family claims to be descended from Agni himself? All their crap on the Divine Right of Kings? It's instilled pretty hard into their minds, and it's not going to break so easy. It needs to be someone of royal blood on that throne."

"Ugh, politics." Katara sighed, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in the blanket. "Look, I don't have a problem with General Iroh taking the throne. Let reorganising the Fire Nation be his problem, and he can choose his own successor."

"You know who he would choose." Toph said quietly. Katara stiffened. "Look, I'm saying-"

"Well, don't!" Katara snapped. "Damn it Toph, I don't want to hear it! He attacked me! For no reason! He's out of control and we can't trust him!" Toph opened her mouth to respond, thought the better of it, and shook her head, biting her lip. Katara's hand instinctively drifted to her bare throat. He seemed so scared in that anteroom. Below Ba Sing Se. And then to burst into a violent rage, so freely and easily. How could they ever put any sort of faith into someone so unstable?

"I'm with Katara." Sokka spoke up. "Toph... You weren't there before. You don't know... What he was like. What he did. Now, you can sit there and say he's changed until he's blue in the face, but I'm not gonna buy it. People can't just change like that. It's not possible."

"Guess I'm outvoted." Toph muttered, crossing her arms. It was beyond infuriating. They were stubbornly hung up on the past and she was sick of it. Maybe they didn't realise how bad the situation was. They had no one, no one to aid their cause, without Aang. Their Allies were sparse, and here was someone who was a good fighter and a hefty political power, and they refused to listen to reason! Yes, he was a stubborn little brat, Toph wasn't going to be idealistic, but no one had a personal agenda against Ozai quite like him. And she had promised Iroh that she would do her best to try and bring them around. How, when they refused to even consider?

I'm probably being too harsh. She suppressed a sigh, and curled her toes in the cloth confinement. Of course they're going to be wary about him. They already tried trusting him, and well... It didn't go so good. They can't keep him in line, but I could. He's not complicated, just a guy with daddy issues and anger problems.

At least there's the White Lotus. Whatever that is. Toph mused in the uneasy silence. Some kind of secret society, huh? Something like that would come in handy right now... Everything slipping through our fingers and we have to cling on to what's left.

I just hope they're not a bunch of damn pacifists.

Zuko slept, briefly.

It was more of a doze, restless and uneasy, punctuated by the sounds of cooking, a child laughing, the low chatter of talk, and the frequent clang of the coal-stove. He tried for an hour to reclaim sleep, his head stuffed with cotton, eyes itching, but eventually Zuko turned onto his back, flung the covers aside, and groaned.

He didn't want to get up. It wasn't the tiredness and exhaustion that chained him to the narrow bed, it was guilt, fear. Maybe if he retreated from the word, he could forget about the situation he had landed in. Maybe he could think it was all a dream.

Bullshit.

Zuko finally sat up, swivelling his legs over the side of the bed, head sinking to his hands. What am I going to do, really? What the hell can I do now? I've ruined my chances with Aang, I've lost my Uncle, I'm a full-blown traitor of the Fire Nation... If it weren't for Jin I'd be completely alone and Agni knows I can't go through that again...

He weighed up the pros and cons carefully. Pro, he was alive. Con, Aang probably wasn't. Pro, his sister had no idea where he even was. Con, Ba Sing Se was about to be invaded very, very soon. Pro, he had Jin. Con, he'd lost his Uncle. Pro, he had friends and allies. Con, only a handful knew the truth. Pro, he could still do something to protect Ba Sing Se and fight against his father. Con, he had no idea what.

Zuko finally stood up, trying to think. Jin told him to relax, take the day, but how could he? How could he simply forget the situation he was in? How could he pretend nothing was wrong?

I have to talk to the men at the Dancing Monkey. I have to explain things to them and see what they think. They're the friends that Jin was talking about last night. If anyone will try and get Uncle out, it'll be them. They have to do something! I had no idea how important he was until we got to Ba Sing Se, the secret meetings they held, it was so strange. What was he planning for us? Maybe he was trying to raise an army himself. Possibly. I don't understand, how he could have said all that crap about peace and prosperity, and in the same breath said that something needed to be done, that we had an important roles to play in the War, me especially. Was he just trying to pacify me? Zuko took the dead candlestick from the bedside table, fumbling slightly in the gloom as he made his way to the doorway. He braced himself, squared his shoulders, and pulled the door open. The passage door was open, providing a wedge of pale light, enough for him to see by. Zuko entered the smallish room quietly, hoping even that he might go unnoticed.

"Morning." Shan was kneading a large lump of dough, powered lightly in flour to the elbows. "Breakfast is in the pot on the stove. Help yourself." She didn't look up from her work as she dug her fingers into the dough, spread it out across the table, sprinkled another handful of flour on to thicken the dough and stretch it further, rolling it back into a lump and forcing the heels of her hands into the soft mixture. Chang was focused very intently on his own little fistful of dough, rolling it first into a snake, then shaping it into a person, and finally forming a little grey loaf, which he raised towards his mouth. "Chang, don't you dare." She snapped quickly, eyes never leaving her work. Zuko scraped the last of the lumpy oatmeal from the bottom of the cast-iron saucepan and knelt at the table gingerly.

"I'm very sorry about this morning." He eventually spoke up. "Jin and I honestly didn't do anything last night, we just slept, I was just really stressed out, and-"

"Lee, it's fine." Satisfied that the dough was mixed enough, Shan wrapped the mixture in a sheaf of thin, waxy rice-paper. "I don't blame you for anything. You're the nicest young man that's walked through this door and that's a fact. Jin's the worry. She doesn't think, that girl. She doesn't consider the consequences. She thinks she knows what's best and to hell with everyone else." She then wrapped the papered dough in coarse fabric and stood up, hunting around for some string. Zuko ate silently. "I've tried to talk to her countless times, but we just butt heads. She's even worse with her father. They haven't really gotten along for a few years now. He just thinks she's wild." Shan found her roll of twine, and kneeled at the table, binding the wrapped parcel of uncooked bread.

"I could say something." Zuko offered, seeing considerable truth in the woman's words. How often had Jin jumped into something without thinking, just in the past couple of days?

"Oh, no no no." Shan shook her head firmly. "Lee, that is not your place. If you try to control her, she'll just push you away. Jin's had a couple of very bad experiences with young men who thought they could do just that, and she's been on her guard since. She's got a stronger sense of self than most. Sometimes it borders on irrational. She's kicked aside some nice boys for no apparent reason, like that Riku... Then what do I know, she swore he was a pig..." She finally lifted herself from her thoughts. "Anyway, you don't have to say a thing to her. We're her parents. We're meant to do the worrying."

"All the same..." Zuko stared into his empty bowl. "I know there's things she's not telling me... I wish she would."

"... Ah." Shan settled down, resting her elbows on the table. She exhaled deeply, running her fingers through her hair. "No, not my place. She'll tell you when she's ready."

"So she doesn't trust me?" Zuko frowned, thinking of their confrontation the afternoon before. Where she accused him of being disgusted of her. Of course she's going to keep things from me if I act like that.

But if it's something worse, do I want to know? There are a few things I still haven't told her, whether I'm ashamed or frightened of myself, or her, I don't know. Baring your soul is hard. Opening up your past indiscretions, it's... painful. Sometimes things should just be buried.

"Oh, that's a difficult word." Shan rose to her feet, taking her straw basket from the sideboard. She tried to be tactful. "There's nothing anyone can do about it now, anyways. So what is she going to trust you with?"

"A secret?" Zuko pushed aside his empty bowl, staring at the tabletop. "The past his hard, I understand that, but-"

"Chang, don't touch that!" A small slap on the wrist, and he retreated from the stove, sniffing. "How many times have I told you! Oh, Lee dear. Don't think on it. Past is past, move on and look forward. Now." She took her shawl down from the bent nail that served as a hook. "I'm going into town to get this bread baked. And today's rice day and I've been saving all month. I'm hoping to get a fifty-pounder."

"Fifty pounds?" Zuko blinked.

"With luck." Shan bent down, took his bowl, and stacked it with the others alongside the washbasin. "Even with the handcart cost, it's much cheaper to buy fifty pounds once a month than ten pounds a week, the holder wants to sell off as much as he can."

"I can carry it." Zuko offered. Roughly half the weight of a young woman? It was entirely doable. Maybe it would help distract his mind. He never went to the marketplace, he'd claimed the smell and noise were aggravating, so his Uncle was always the one who bought things...

Uncle. Zuko wrinkled his nose. It was impossible for the elderly man to just be wiped clean from his mind! He was the most important person in the world to him, how was it even remotely possible that he could just forget?

"Oh, you don't have to do that, the cart's not that much and it's exhausting work to carry. I used to make Jiro do it but ever since the accident at work he can't lift anything heavy. He's one mistake away from a broken back and I tell him constantly to be careful but he doesn't listen and oh, it's so worrying." She paused, remembering herself and stalling her train of thought. "But, yes, I'll be fine. I'm sure you have some things to do. Don't sit around here in the dark all day, dear."

"I honestly don't mind." Zuko said earnestly. "Trust me, I'm stronger than I look. I can carry a sack of rice. I had to carry my Uncle half a mile once after he was knocked out by-" He caught himself. "A falling branch." Shan had noticed the near slip-up and uncomfortable pause, but said nothing. "It's the least I can do after eating all your food and taking up your sons' bed."

"If you insist." She finally smiled. "Hurry up and get the rest of your clothes on first. Chang, you too. I'm not leaving you alone." Begrudgingly, the young child stood up and walked heavily to the bedroom. Zuko nodded, knees creaking as he rose to his feet. He arched his back in a stretch, sighing a long yawn. When he walked into the room, he found Chang on the floor, fingering the hilt of his Dao swords.

"Be careful." The boy jumped two feet in the air, squeaking. "If you slit your hand, I'll have to explain it to your mother." Zuko took the swords and set them on a top bunk. "Besides, you're too little for swords." He found his long trousers, threading his ankles through the cuffs. "You don't have the strength in the arm or wrist to wield the weight. If you had a knife or dagger, you'd have a much easier time." Chang was staring at him. "Not yet, of course." Zuko added quickly, remembering that he was talking to a four year old. "When you're older. Eight. Ten. Don't tell your mother I said that." He pulled on his long sleeved shirt, and picked his long tunic from the ground. Why did the people like Ba Sing Se enjoy wearing so many damn layers? "You should get dressed kid." He slung his swords at his waist. "What?"

"How did you get that scar?" There it was again. Zuko swallowed. Of course he was going to ask. He was probably waiting for a moment when they were alone, away from his mother and her scolding. Of course he was going to be curious. He was extremely young. Did he even know anything about what was going on, inside the walls or outside?

"A monster." Zuko said quickly, truthfully. "Put your clothes on, we have to go." He left the room quietly, and when in the darkened hall, leaned against the wall, sighing. Agni, why do they always have to ask? He remembered Lee, something in his stomach tightening. All they get is lies. Because if I tell the truth, I get rejected.

But, there's a single exception. Zuko's hand drifted to his pocket, fingers running along the broken gold chain, the rectangular jade pendant. Maybe they'll be the same.

Not going to risk it. Zuko snapped to a standing position, blew his bangs out of face, smoothed his clothing. I need to get into the marketplace. See if I can catch any sort of gossip. Try and find out what's going on. No one will be at the Dancing Monkey 'til after lunch though. If anyone knows what's going on in the castle... with... Uncle... It'll be them.

Maybe they'll even try a jailbreak. He dared to hope.

"Is Aang settled in?" Hakoda's voice made Katara start, the girl looking up as her father let go of the rope latter, making his way across the small interior of the ship. "Anything I can get you?"

"Thanks Dad, but we're fine." Katara didn't dare to sling Aang in one of the hammocks – instead she lay down the largest, most comfortable fur she could find in the corner, setting up her own new sleeping bag a little to the left. She smoothed the woven blanket carefully, sighing. "Just have to keep an eye on him now. His breathing is steady."

"He's sure a fighter." Hakoda crouched down beside his daughter. "This isn't for long. We're going to head out and try to snag a lone ship under the cover of darkness. That way we can move about the ocean freely without suspicion and maybe gather information when we reach some port towns." Katara nodded silently. "Sokka gave us a long list of people to notify about the eclipse. But we should wait and see what state Aang will be in before we make any definite plans."

"He won't be ready." Katara murmured quietly. "The eclipse is in just under two months. He might be healed by then but he won't be ready. He'll have to train so much to get his fitness back up to scratch."

"Well... we'll see." Hakoda wrapped an arm around his daughter. "It's best we stay on the move anyway, just in case Ozai is looking for you and Sokka." He stood up. "Speaking of, I have to go and see Sokka off. He's taking the bison up and scouting around for us." Katara nodded silently. "Should I tell him that you said goodbye?"

"If you want." Her eyes never left Aang's face. With a long sigh, Hakoda made his way out on deck, finding Sokka leaning against the mast of the ship, legs stretched out before him in a doze. "Sokka?"

"'m up!" The boy jerked uncomfortably, rubbing at his eyes. "Sorry... Just thought I would rest my eyes."

"It's fine." Hakoda chuckled, extending an arm. "Are you sure you'll be okay up there by yourself? One of the others could come with you."

"I'll be fine." Sokka gave him a smile as he was hauled into a standing position. "You can trust me with this, Dad." He added, looking out at the beach. "I won't let you down."

"Sokka, is this still about you wanting to prove something to me?" Hakoda demanded after a moment of silence. Sokka gave a little shrug of his shoulders, but said nothing. "You know that I trust you. Bato told me about everything you've done with the Avatar, and you've filled in the rest."

"I know." Sokka sighed, his shoulders slumping with the long exhalation. "And I'm proud of that, it's just... You've never seen me in action, you know?" He gave a shrug. "I know I'm being stupid."

"No, you're not." Hakoda's hand drifted back to Sokka's shoulder. He wanted to hug him, the desire to embrace the young man like a child rising in his chest. But, tactful as ever, he knew it inappropriate when his son was trying so hard to exert his masculinity. "Now come. It's time we got going."

"Right." Sokka detached himself, made his way down the gangplank with a trot and landed with a thud on the sand. "I'll see you by the evening!" He called, thudding across the sand towards Appa. Hakoda gave a wave, a smile, before leaning against the side of his ship with a sigh, watching as the bison reared into the sky with a low roar.

"You should be damn proud Hakoda." Bato groaned as he set down the heavy barrel of fresh water, greeting his best friend with a smile. "If my three boys at home turn out to be half the man Sokka is now, I'll be surprised."

"Thanks, Bato." Hakoda turned to regard the other man, looking thoughtful. "Say... You miss them, don't you..."

"More than you know." Bato sat down with a slump on the squat barrel. "You have no idea how lucky you are to have Katara and Sokka. If mine were a little older, I would kill to bring them here."

"Leaving Sokka behind was the hardest thing I ever had to do." Hakoda passed a hand over his eyes. "He was old enough to come with us, really. If it wasn't for Katara, I think I would have brought him. The bit about him protecting the tribe was a terrible excuse. He knows it as well as I do."

"Not long now." Bato looked at the hatch leading below deck, uncertainly. "Hakoda... If Aang doesn't make it... We have to go home. There's nothing left to fight for."

"I know." Hakoda mumbled. "I've been thinking about that. With the Earth Kingdom conquered, the Firelord is going to look at the last gatherings of free people that stand at the edge of the empire, the last pinpricks of life, left to block out. It's us, and our sister tribe in the north. We can't withstand any more attacks, Bato, we're nearly extinct."

"So what do we do?" Bato watched the man rise to a straightened position, Hakoda walking to the prow of the boat, hands behind his back in thought.

"Migration." It made Hakoda feel sick, just to say it. "Find somewhere more secluded. Maybe go further south. Or maybe even try and slip past them and go up North. Katara told me how well they withstand a siege. We need to be practical. And Bato," Hakoda turned back to the other man, mouth set in a hard line. "Tell no one about this conversation. It's not the best for morale."

"You have every confidence." Bato replied, looking stricken. "It's... terrifying. All we can really do is hide in the most remote corner of the world we can find and wait to be hunted down." Hakoda was silent.

Lying on the sand at the foot of the small ship, resting, sensitive ears, catching every word, Toph snorted, shaking her head.

"Fatalists." She muttered to herself, concealed in the little pool of shade.

"As you can see Princess Azula, most of these prisoners are guilty of crimes against the government of Ba Sing Se. The conspirators and rebels, those who have physically injured or killed the Dai Li or broken our explicit laws on state secrets and peace." Long Feng walked slowly along the dimly lit passage, Azula at his left. "Those who we consider... Unfit for rehabilitation."

"I see." Azula murmured. "The troublemakers, in other words. Those who give the Dai Li a headache."

"Precisely." He gave her a sidelong glance as they approached the other end of the hallway.

"Any breakouts?"

"Just when the Avatar broke out his ally. There was a boy in the same cell who also escaped, but a search hasn't found anything underground."

"Leave it." Azula muttered. "I need the Dai Li to keep the city in order. My father's troops will be here in two days and I can't afford to have the final stage of this invasion go wrong. As for these," She waved her hand at the long wing of cells, "I'll keep them where they are." Azula said. "It's secure enough, and all this lot will do is stir up trouble. Nothing will be gained from releasing them to the public." She looked at Long Feng in profile. "We'll release the petty criminals, the thieves and pickpockets, to make space for the dissidents we'll inevitably be forced to take care of. The meticulous social order you have constructed won't come crashing down, Long Feng." She smirked. "Yet." They passed a wide doorway, the heavy door flung open.

"What's in there?" Azula paused. Long Feng, aware of his situation, a servant and lackey, who was in reality lucky to be on the other side of those bars, gave a slight bow.

"We have several prisoners who are unwell or injured." Long Feng stated. "We do our best to keep them in good health, so they are able to face punishment."

"Of course." Azula wandered into the room. There were less than a dozen beds, low cots barely a foot off the floor. Half of them were filled. The unlucky victims were chained by the wrists and ankles. Four Dai Li stood at the door, a single nurse checking papers at a low desk. They were nearly all pale, thin faces with sunken eyes and visible cheekbones. Dying of malnutrition, most likely. "You keep reasonable care of our prisoners. In the Fire Nation, we leave them to rot in their cells." Her eyes fell on the figure closest to her, a narrow, heavily tanned face under an unruly mop of hair. Azula stilled, and crouched down, pulling aside the ragged excuse for a blanket. The bandages wrapped thickly over his torso were wet with blood. True, he looked sick, with dark shadows under his eyes and occasionally twitching with spasms of pain, unconscious. But Azula was sure. "Who is he?" She narrowed her eyes. "Do you have a file? What is his name?"

"Princess Azula, I-"

"I asked you, what is his name?" Azula straightened herself. "What happened here?"

"Jet." Long Feng answered shortly, annoyed. "But I don't see wha-"

"That filthy peasant," Azula snarled "is the leader of a dangerous group of rebels who have severely impaired the Fire Nation campaign in the Southern Earth Kingdom. My father has issued a personal reward for his capture and his wanted poster hangs in every village throughout the south-western provinces. How injured is he?"

"Near death." Long Feng admitted. "I'm amazed he lasted this long, to be hone-"

"Well," Azula took a step towards the fallen puppetmaster, nose wrinkling. "You make sure that scum lives, so we can take him to my father and give him a traitor's death. We do not let rebels slip through our fingers. Understand, Long Feng?"

"Yes, Princess Azula." He bowed so low, a bone cricked in his back. She snorted, and turned away, the soft soles of her shoes padding quietly out of the room, her short command to the guards to open the two-foot thick door that cut off the high-security wing to the underground maze of a prison seeming to boom in his ears. She was done with him, for the moment.

He wasn't sure who he was most disgusted with: Haughty, arrogant, Azula, who treated him like a spurned dog, Jet, who was stubborn and defiant and refused to die,

Or himself, for letting this condescending little upstart win.

OMG THE DRAMAZ

But in all seriousness, fuck you creators for not giving us closure on Jet.

I know I say it all the time but I mean it this time: update won't take a horrifically long time.

And I know I say that, too.

ALSO

Thinking about writing another fic, a more epic-y (But still with Romance), Zuko-centric semi-AU. It would detract attention from this, but it would also be much more kickass because I am slightly more competent as a writer and it won't have a weak beginning like this and I would actually try to work through the flaws rather than throwing up my hands in defeat as I have done so many times in this fic.

Yes? No? Lobster?