Boo-yah. I can't even say something properly at the start. I'm late for work. But I want to get this out today. Now. I'm dead excited.

I just had the most awful dream.

I dreamed that I was back Home. It was in the midsummer, when the sun is up for weeks, and I was out on the ice with Sokka, looking for a spot to fish. He found the perfect spot, and struck the ice with his hatchet, and there was this horrible great roar, and the ice collapsed around him, and he started to fall into the water. But it wasn't water. It was liquid fire. Lava. Like the volcano in Aunt Wu's village. He was screaming, holding on to the edge of the ice with his hands, screaming so loudly that he was burning. And I was running towards him, but with every step I took, he was getting further and further away, until he fell completely with this horrible cry. And then the ice started melting and crumbling, everywhere, and I tried to run away from it, but I couldn't move. All I could do was watch as the ice dissolved beneath my feet and I fell into the liquid fire.

Aang says I was screaming in my sleep, screaming for Sokka. He tried to snap me out of it, but nothing would wake me up. I just remembered a huge rush, and a roar, and everything was bright yellow. And I woke up to see Aang's big grey eyes looking over at me in the lamplight. I was still crying for Sokka, trapped in the dream. All I could hear was him screaming as he was being burned alive, over and over and over. Dad must have heard me, because he came rushing in, all breathless. I was still hysterical because I was so scared. I'd been so helpless, and it seemed so vivid and real to me. I could feel the heat of the fire in the dream, I could smell it. Dad tried to calm me down, tried to tell me that it was just a dream, but I pushed him away. I didn't want him, I wanted Sokka. Eventually, he came stomping into the room, all bleary and tired, rubbing at his eyes. He muttered that I was crazy, but he sat down beside me and just held his arm around me and I just cried and cried. I remember blubbering into his shirt, making him promise that he wasn't going to fall into the fire. He must have thought I was crazy. He tried to make me lie back down, but I didn't want to go to sleep. Eventually I calmed down enough and he went back to his own room. Dad left too, and it was just Aang and I. I said I was all right, it was just a nightmare, but he didn't want to leave me alone. It was sweet, but I just wanted to be by myself. I pretended to go to sleep, and he finally went back into his own room next door.

When I had my future predicted by Aunt Wu, one of the things she asked me about was dreams. She said dreams were important – not in that they predicted the future, even she admitted that was ridiculous, but they revealed a person's deepest recesses of the mind. She showed me a great book of hers, which explained the meaning of a persons' dreams. Like flying, or colours, or animals or people. But I couldn't remember any of my dreams. She said I should try and remember them, write them down. I didn't even remember her words, for the longest time.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out what my subconscious is trying to tell me. I want to go home. I'm scared for Sokka. I'm scared that the both of us, and our home, will be burned to ashes. It doesn't take a great big book to know that. I'm scared. I don't mind admitting it, especially in a book like this, where no one will read it. I'm terrified. What if we don't win? What if Aang or Sokka or Dad or Toph dies? What if I die? I mean, I'd sacrifice myself in a heartbeat, to save any of them, but that doesn't mean I'm not horrified at the thought. Even though I try to tell myself that everything will be all right, I'm just not sure any more. Maybe I'm cracking up. But it seemed so much easier when it was just the three or four of us wandering around the Earth Kingdom, running into trouble perhaps once every couple of weeks. We didn't know what we were doing. We didn't need to know. It was just a vague 'sometime by the end of summer', and we left it at that. All we could do was practise and train and try to help troubled people we came into contact with. Even at the North Pole, we just stood back while the decisions were made around us. We were defensive. It was scary, but nothing like this. Now, we have a deadline, a goal, a mission. We're going to pour everything we've got into this, and all we can do is cross our fingers and hope. Sokka if you do read this (and you BETTER NOT BE), I hate your plan! I hate everything about it, diving ourselves in half and leaving loyal and brave men to be the cannon fodder while you launch some sort of hare-brained sneak attack. It's not right. It's not fair. It's not how battle should be fought.

I guess, if Ozai had the chance, he wouldn't fight fair either. Neither would Azula. The both of them would take a sneaky, underhanded way to victory, if they could. Azula already did. In fact, the only one who fought against us without resorting to trickery or sneak attacks was... Him.

I refuse to write his name down, or say it in my head. Or picture his face. Every time I do, the anger and all the emotions just come rushing back, and I feel sick. I can't even put it down into words, how I feel. I'm trying. When I think about everything he's done to us, I get this blind rage and my hands start shaking. But I saw him at his most vulnerable. I saw him lose the people closest to him and he was crying. And I'm trying to reconcile these two images of him in my head and I don't know what to think anymore.

I have to stop now. My hand is cramping up and I can hear people above me. It must finally be morning.

"How?"

Zuko's hands were a twisted, clammy mess as he watched Xi Quan. The man stood before the covered wheelbarrow with a finger on his chin. He'd lifted the blanket and crouched down before the press, checking the number stamped on the underside of the metallic arm. It was his all right. Zuko stood beside him, neck turned. "I was there before you. How did you get this?"

"I... I got it the night before." Zuko's voice was hoarse. "Along with that stuff." He jerked his head towards Kuei, who stood beside the heavy trunk of paper and tiles and ink. Kuei watched the proceedings awkwardly, staring around himself at the same time, taking in the dilapidated little square. "I've been storing it with a friend and..." Zuko trailed off. He honestly didn't have any justification. No way to finish that sentence. No excuse for what he had done.

"Why didn't you tell me?" The man looked up at the boy he called his apprentice, brows knitted in a tight frown. "I still don't understand how you got it. Why did you lie?" Lie. The word cut through Zuko, and he closed his eyes, trying to swallow the humiliation that rose in his stomach. He didn't want to do this. Oh Agni. If only the earth would part, and swallow him whole, right now. You knew this was coming, you coward.

"I..." Zuko's voice died in his throat, and he shook his head, unable is to raise his eyes. He stared down at his shoes. "It's my fault." He whispered.

"Eh?" The man leaned in a little, a frown deepening the lines around his bespectacled eyes. "What's your fault?"

"The shop." Zuko's lips barely moved. He was utterly incapable of raising his voice and his eyes. He muttered and shuffled in his shoes. "I did it."

"What on earth are you talking about my boy?" Zuko's stomach tightened. Please for the love of Agni don't call me yours.

"I..." Spiritis be damned. His nerve was failing him. Zuko pulled his lips in a tight, closed line, his chin trembling. Why can't you yell at me? Please, just yell at me. At least then Zuko would be able to shout back, try and defend himself. He was so much better at shouting than talking.

"Is this about you not locking the door?" Zuko's head snapped up, mouth falling open.

"Th-The door?"

"You didn't lock it. It's a tricky lock, it catches all the time. You have to turn the key twice. I went back just before sundown to pick a few things up. Oh Lee, you poor thing." The wrinkled brow smoothed a little in false understanding. "You went back to check and found the place ransacked... No wonder you've been on edge all week." Zuko hands clenched into fists inside his sleeves. No that's wrong that's not what happened tell him you coward, you pathetic useless liar look him in the eye and tell him the truth don't you dare back down don't you dare. "The door was broken in Lee, there wasn't any way it could have been prevented." That's not true. "None of it was your fault."

"Yes it was." But Zuko's head was bowed, the words coming out in a whisper, and Xi Quan didn't hear him. Instead, he walked over to the heavy trunk, rifling through the stacks of paper and shifting tiles. He took out the carved little box that held his money, silently counting it with his eyes. Every coin was still intact. Something uncomfortable and foreboding pushed in Xi Quan's chest at the sight of the money. It wasn't particularly well-hidden in his store, just on a shelf underneath his desk. He looked back into the trunk. It was finest, thickest paper, the majority of his ink stock. It didn't make sense to him. Harsh reality stared him in the face, but he turned away from it, in disbelief. It was impossible. It was inconceivable. Lee was above deception and reproach. He wasn't capable of something so thoughtless and destructive.

"I can't take it with me." He finally spoke up after a long, uncomfortable silence, where Zuko couldn't bring himself to tell the truth out loud and Xi Quan refused to consider it. "The cart is too small, I would have to get rid of my wife's furniture and daughter's clothes to make it fit." He almost smiled at the thought. "I can't get a bigger cart now. Every merchant is town is trading the clothes of his back for carriage out of the city." He turned back to face his former apprentice. "Take it."

"What?" Zuko's voice was a strangled cry in his throat. "Xi Quan, I-I can't... It's yours."

"Did I not just say I had no future in this?" The man closed the lid of the trunk, pushing it towards Zuko with his foot. Kuei stood silently, awkwardly, watching the exchange with no real idea of what was happening. "I could sell it, yes. One of my rivals would pay me handsomely for this, but I don't want them to have it. I want it to go to you." Zuko crouched down in front of the trunk, head bowed. He couldn't speak. "I trust you will take care of it for me."

You can't trust me with anything you fool. Zuko ran his hands over the smooth wooden panelling, pushing down the bubble of guilt and anger that threatened to erupt. You can't trust a lying coward like me. The hand that gently fell on his shoulder felt like a blow. Zuko inwardly shrank away from the touch, remaining still and silent in the outside world.

"I really have to go now." Xi Quan was murmuring quietly, his voice threatening to shake. He obviously didn't want to leave. "Good luck." Zuko kept his eyes purposefully downcast as he heard the man rise, the groaning of a stressed axle and the creaking of wheels. He didn't chase after him this time. Even though the truth remained blurred and obscured, Zuko didn't try to clear his own conscience. He realised, as he looked the ageing man in the eye and tried to form the words on his own dry lips, that the truth would do nothing but destroy the trust he had built between them, the fragile security that Xi Quan had invested in his own life's work. Was it really a failing then? Or was it some sort of compassion, an attempt to spare his feelings?

Bullshit.

"So... Are we taking this back?" Zuko's head jerked up at Kuei's voice. He'd entirely forgotten that the young King was standing there, watching the entire messy exchange between them. Zuko opened his mouth to respond, but his throat was dry and hoarse. He coughed uncomfortably as he rose to his feet, nodding in silence.

"... Yeah." He cleared his throat again, but his voice was still a rasp. "I guess it's mine now." Kuei groaned. The effort of wheeling the cart was a considerable strain on his frail arms. "Sorry." Zuko was still staring at the trunk. "Thanks for taking it out for me. I owe you."

"No problem." Kuei arched his back in a long stretch, before taking a grasping the wheelbarrow by the handles. In all honesty, he was glad to get outside for some air. He didn't like being shut up inside, but at the same time, he was far too afraid to venture out alone. Not with the Fire Nation about. He knew he couldn't protect himself, and he didn't trust any of the elderly men of the White Lotus to be of any real assistance. At least Prince Zuko had a definite air of someone who knew how to throw a punch. It was strange, but Kuei felt oddly safe around him. He was slowly starting to trust the young Prince. They had spoken several times since their first meeting, short, awkward pleasantries that dissolved into mumbled, uncertain questions, usually on Kuei's part. Zuko felt sorry for him. Kuei felt sorry for himself. He didn't like talking about the city, the invasion, his own failings. Zuko understood, better than anyone ever could, his humiliations, and left the subject alone, the time-word advice that only he could give lingering silent in the air, waiting for Kuei to eventually broach the subject. "You look like you're going to throw up." Kuei had paused before Zuko, looking very clearly at him with his stern jade-green eyes. He didn't miss a thing.

"I lied to him." Zuko crouched down in front of the large trunk, ready to hoist it in his arms. He traced his finger over the brass latch. His hand trembled. He rested his forehead on the cool metal for a moment, emptying his lungs in one long, slow breath. His eyes drifted closed. Kuei stood awkwardly beside him, one arm outstretched, hovering uncertainly in the space between them. His hand drifted closer, about to make contact. But before his fingertips brushed cloth and skin, Zuko jerked up with a short, ugly gasp, a rough intake of breath that choked in his throat. His face was red, eyes oddly bright. He rose to his feet once more, the trunk in his arms. He turned away from the King, young and naive and still older than himself, ignoring the outstretched hand.

"Suit yourself then." Kuei whispered to the warm afternoon air.

"I wondered when you'd be coming home."

Jin ran to embrace him, gently touching the back of his neck, whispering an apology in his ear and gently coaxing him to take a seat in one of their two chairs. Treating him like glass. Zuko accepted the pleasantries quietly. A steaming cup of green tea was pushed into his hands and he sipped at it half-heartedly. Jin perched on the arm of the chair beside him, looking down at his downcast face. She played it cautiously. She had her own revelations for him.

"How did it go?" He shrugged silently, not looking at her. Zuko felt drained. How could he be so happy, so euphoric one moment, and so utterly depressed the next? What was wrong with him? Everything that had happened to him that day, he had instigated. He had no one to blame but himself, and he knew it. "Lee?"

"He's gone." Zuko spoke simply, hands cupped around the cup of tea, breathing in the steam. Jin was slowly stroking his hair, trying to comfort him. "He's getting out of the city while he still can."

"Oh, I'm sorry." She leaned down, kissed him on the top of the head. Zuko bore it silently, teeth gritted. He wasn't worthy of apologies. "Did you get to talk to him?"

"Yes." Zuko breathed on the rim of the cup. Jin heard his tiny voice. "I tried to give him back his press."

"Tried?" Jin's fingers stilled in his hair. He nodded silently. "What happened?"

"He told me to keep it." Zuko kept his eyes closed, not wanting to look at anyone or anything. "He didn't want it anymore."

"Oh Lee, I'm so sorry." She'd slipped into calling him Lee. Was someone else around? He thought everyone was still out. He kept his tongue still, not wanting to correct her. He liked the name. "Will you be all right?"

"I don't know." He spoke honestly, tightening his hands around the cup. "I really don't know Jin." He breathed, head bowed. "I don't know how much I can take."

"Oh..." She slipped into the seat beside him, squeezing in. They were both thin, and if she rested her legs over his lap, it was reasonably comfortable. Zuko set the tea down and she embraced him tightly. It was heartbreaking, to watch him suffer, knowing there was no comfort or consolation she could offer him. Nothing that would be enough. Just a distraction. "I had a visitor while you were away, you know."

"Hm?" Zuko sounded mildly interested. Jin swallowed, nodding against him.

"Your mother." She felt him stiffen, jerk away from her. Jin sat up, pulling away from him, forcing a smile. "She wanted to invite us over for dinner."

"Wh-what?" Zuko stared agape at her. "Dinner?"

"She said she wants to talk things over with you. Something about a fresh start. They just moved house. Anyway, I said we'd be there at sundown." She didn't pose it to him as a question, he might just say no to her. Zuko was still staring at her, shaking his head slightly.

"What does she want..." He muttered. "I-I don't understand."

"She's your mother. She wants to know you, and have a relationship with you. That's natural Zuko." She used his real name again. He dropped his gaze, still shaking his head. "You have to go."

"I-I..." He swallowed. "I don't know what to say to her."

"Then don't." Jin spoke gently. "Just listen." She touched his cheek, their noses inches apart. His eyes closed as she kissed him, remaining still and unyielding. But at least he didn't pull away. Jin rested her forehead against his. "We're going. I know you think she must hate you by now, but I promise you, she doesn't. She sounded desperate. She knows you've started off on the wrong footing and she wants to set it right. That goes both ways."

"I've been horrible to her." His voice was a soft, almost inaudible murmur. But Jin caught it. She was close enough to hear him breathe. "She deserves a better son than me."

"You're wonderful." Jin said simply, taking his hands, lacing their fingers together. "I promise you." She kissed him, again. Harder this time, angling her head. She disentangled their hands, her slim fingertips brushing the side of his neck as she gripped his collar. How many times did she have to try and convince Zuko that he really was a good person? He seemed so reluctant to believe her. He panted as they broke apart for air, his hands on her face.

"Come on." She stood up, gripping his wrist. "I'll make you forget all about them." Her eyes flashed, playful, teasing, sensual. The corner of her mouth twitched in a smile. She couldn't help herself. Remembrance of that morning had left her breathless, she had to have him again. It was a cheap trick on her part, making him forget about his problems with sex, but damn, it worked. In her experience, nothing else made a boy truly leave his senses. Nothing soothed a turbulent mind like violent passion. Zuko stood still for a moment, confused and oddly disgusted, with her for suggesting, it himself for even considering it. She was still smiling, head cocked to one side. Zuko opened his mouth to protest, to say no, but his body betrayed him. He followed her blindly, surrendering to her. How could he disagree? Nothing to him had ever felt as good as that morning. He thought it would all be a blur, but every moment, every sound and every image, stood out in his mind. He'd be lying if he said he didn't want more.

Jin led him out of the room in silence.

The door was much simpler than the last one.

There was no pretty carving, no slot for mail, no bell. Just simple panelling. Zuko stared at it silently. At his left, Jin gave a small cough.

"You have to open it some time, Lee." He turned his head slightly, catching her face. She stared at him, impassively. She wasn't going to turn on the charm this time. He needed a firm push. "Just knock on the door."

"I..." Zuko cleared his throat. A harsh rasp had sounded from his throat, sounding foreign, something like an animal. "I know." That was better. More normal. He felt Jin's hand tighten around his, fingers stroking along the knuckles. "In a moment."

"Now." She knocked on the door herself, shaking her head. If Zuko was going to be difficult about it, she didn't have much choice. She understood why he was tentative, but it didn't make it any less frustrating. Zuko made an odd, strangled noise in his throat, taking a step back from the door as he heard the latch click. But Jin had a firm grasp on his hand, pulling him forward.

"Hello there." Ursa smiled in the doorway, eyes soft. Jin inclined her head in a light bow. Zuko stood rooted to the ground as the familiar pressure rose in his chest, sticking in his throat. He still wasn't used to seeing her. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was that horrible, animals' sound. He cleared his throat again, hiding his free hand in his pocket so Ursa wouldn't see the trembling.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled quietly. He couldn't look at her. He was a spoiled brat the last time they spoke, and he knew it. There was no justification for shouting at his mother, not ever. Ursa just smiled again, wordlessly pulling the door open and inviting them inside. Her hand rested on his shoulder as they past, squeezing tightly. She forgave him. In her eyes, she deserved worse, for what she had done to him.

"Were you able to find the place all right?" Ursa attempted light, breezy conversation. Zuko nodded wordlessly, staring at the simple room around them. It was certainly plainer. The walls were bare and the floorboards not quite even. Although Ursa had dressed it up with rugs and a few nice pieces of furniture, it was still obviously much, much less. "I know it's not as nice." She followed Zuko's eyes. "But times are going to get tough. We have to tighten our belts." She repeated her husbands' words so perfectly. But he was right. He was being cautious and paranoid about the state of the city, but he was perfectly right and they both knew it.

"Are you kidding?" Jin thought it was lovely. "Lee shares a room with four other boys."

"Four?" Zuko nodded silently. Ursa's heart tightened. Her poor baby. She knew this poverty would still grate on him. She'd grown up herself with much less, finding luxuries and riches disconcerting. This was a happy compromise for her. But Zuko had had everything handed to him, done for him, since his birth. She wondered how he coped. She underestimated him. "Do you want to see the rest before dinner?"

"Sure." Jin spoke for Zuko again, the latter remaining silent, and uncomfortable. How was Jin able to muster up breezy conversation so easily? He just felt awkward and cumbersome. His hands felt too big for his sleeves. His mother tried so hard to be accommodating and forgiving. Too hard. It felt like a painful pantomime.

It got worse. Ursa showed him the rooms where they cooked and ate. Her own bedroom, the little nursery where Enlai was dressing his daughter. He couldn't manage anything beyond a short greeting. The wound was still fresh. Ursa's face and smile were forced and strained, as though carved in stone. It unsettled Zuko. It was horrible. He didn't understand the apprehension behind the mask, the growing nervousness.

"We have one more room." Ursa spoke quietly at the end of the hallway. For a moment, the mask slipped, she bit her lip, chin quivering. But with a short gasp, she replaced the mask, all apparent traces of nervousness gone. Jin and Zuko stared at the tiny, lopsided staircase. "The attic."

Why is she showing us the attic? Jin wondered silently as she began to follow the woman up the tiny stairs. Zuko was brooding, distracted. He hadn't followed much of the awkward tour, too busy watching his mother's terrifying face. The door was low, and all three had to stoop to make their way through. Ursa's face became even more false and strained, her hands positively shaking as she stood beside the doorway. The room had already been lit with two lanterns, in anticipation. It was smaller than Ursa's bedroom, bigger than the nursery. There were two windows on the left, shuttered. It was furnished simply, almost sparsely. A bed, a chair, a little chest of drawers, a rug on the floor. Jin took it all in an instant, looking from the bed to Ursa, and back again. Comprehension dawned. No wonder she was nervous. Jin looked back over to Zuko. He stared into empty space, not understanding. Ursa was watching him carefully, sizing him up, shoulders raising as she took a long, deep breath.

"I have to go to the bathroom." Jin blurted out, face reddening. Ursa's head snapped over to her. "Sorry... I'll just be a moment." She pushed past them, hunching over to get through the door, running down the stairs, away from them. She shouldn't be there. It was intrusive.

"Well... What do you think of the room?" Ursa asked carefully, wringing her hands. Zuko looked up from the floorboards, over to her. "Is it nice?"

"Yeah... I guess." Zuko was confused. Why was she asking his opinion on this? Why did it matter? She didn't ask what he thought about any of the other rooms. "It's all right."

"Good... I'm glad you like it." Ursa stepped towards him, taking another deep, long breath. She grabbed his hand. Zuko jumped at the touch, staring at her. The mask had crumbled entirely. Her lip was quivering, eyes downcast and uncertain. "Because... It's yours. If you want it."

"Huh?" Zuko frowned, not understanding at first. "What do you mean, mine?"

"I mean... I want you to live here." Ursa steeled herself. "This will be your room. I've talked to Enlai about it, he's willing to let you live here." She didn't say happy. "We don't have to rush into anything Zuko. Just stay here for a week or so. See how it goes." She started to babble, her nervousness getting the better of her. She was terrified he would say no.

"You want me here?" Zuko was still confused. What had he done to deserve this? All he'd done was shout at her. Ursa nodded. "Why?"

"You're my son Zuko." She took his other hand. "I know I haven't been there for a long time. I know there's nothing I can say or do to repair the damage. But I want to be here for you again. I want to look after you and give you a home. A real home."

"You already have a family." Why was he shutting himself off from her? He was scared. It was an overwhelming idea for him, and his reaction was to withdraw from it, entirely, rather than face it. "And I'm living with Jin."

"In a room with four other boys?" She arched an eyebrow. "Zuko, you're in my family. Nothing would make me happier than have you in my house." She squeezed his hands. "You don't have to say yes right now. I know it's a lot to think about." Agni, she was trying so hard. "Just... consider it for me."

"I will." Zuko breathed. Ursa broke into a smile, wrapping her arms about him in an embrace. Zuko leaned against her shoulder silently, the emotions engulfing him. He never expected this. All he had was a tentative suggestion that they try again, and now she was offering her house to him. He could live with her, have her make his breakfast and mend his clothes. He saw the way Shan treated her own boys, and it made him jealous. She scolded them, gave them chores, ruffled their hair affectionately, kissed them goodnight. He watched it silently, burning inside. He was still an outsider to them. They tried, but he wasn't one of them, not really. He wasn't their flesh and blood. Zuko lifted his head, looking past Ursa into the little room. He imagined sleeping on the bed, eating breakfast in the sitting room, looking after his half-siblings, helping his mother with the shopping. Stupid, banal errands that so many other people took for granted. His heart ached at the thought. How could he say no to her?

"Come on, dinner will be almost ready." Ursa gently pushed him on the shoulder, coaxing him to leave the room. Zuko obeyed in silence, mind whirling at what his mother had just offered him. A home. Already he was almost resolved. Why would he say no?

Zuko stopped short in the doorway. Jin sat on the couch, waiting. She looked nervous. Her gaze shifted at the sound, up to Zuko's face. Something in her own expression tightened. Her eyes were wide, pleading with him. A question he couldn't answer. Zuko's heart sank in realisation. Jin would feel like he was abandoning her. How else would it seem to her? Rejecting the hospitality of her own family. But it was for his mother! Surely she would see that understand. She knew better than anyone else the confusion and turmoil that had consumed his mind. She wouldn't be so selfish, surely. He wished he could pull her aside, talk to her for just a few moments, to make her understand.

But her large, begging eyes, made him feel sick. He turned away from her, breathing shallow.

Dammit.

"Hello."

Jin's view of the stars became blocked by Zuko's face. She lay on his lap with her hair loose, spread out over his legs. He couldn't see much of her in the darkness, just a shadow, a vague shape with green eyes that caught the light of some faraway star. She blinked, shifted a little, and the light died. "Are you cold?" Zuko shook his head as he bent down over her. His hair was long enough to softly graze her cheek as he kissed her, his back straining uncomfortably with the effort. It was so soft, so quiet in the night, with curfew darkening the streets, driving the people indoors, huddled around dim lanterns, whispering. But Jin and Zuko were both confident that nobody would see them in their private rooftop world.

They'd started escaping together. Zuko would lay in wait, listening in the dark for the four boys around him to stop whispering and succumb to long, slow breathing. Then, he would slip out through the window, hauling himself on to the roof, where Jin patiently waited. They balanced hand-in-hand across the sloping rooftops, til they came to the end of the row of terraced houses, where Jin claimed the attic room housed only an old deaf woman. Sometimes they curled up in the slanted space where the lopsided houses met, whispering to each other. Sometimes, they stretched out on the tiles and watched the stars inch across the sky. Zuko was convinced his cousin was up there. He claimed that as a child, his Uncle told him that the souls of his dead family became stars. After hearing the story of the moon, Jin half believed him.

But that night, they were taking the long way home. After dinner with Ursa, they walked in an awkward silence, unsure of what to say to each other. Dinner itself was pleasant enough. Ursa had relaxed, after approaching Zuko about moving in. She smiled and laughed, genuinely. Even Zuko managed to crack a grin. But as they left, he sank into a deep, brooding silence. So Jin suggested that they detour, going back to their favourite rooftop hideout.

"Come here." He tugged gently at Jin's hands, coaxing the girl to sit up. She obliged silently, leaning into him as he put his hand on the back of his neck, and they lay back down together, looking up at the same stars, Jin leaning against his collarbone. His eyelids drooped. He felt exhausted.

"You don't still feel bad about Xi Quan, do you?" Jin's voice was a soft murmur in the balmy night. Zuko wove his fingers through her hair, lazily sifting through the thick locks. She felt him sigh heavily, the other hand drifting down to rest on her hip.

"I lied to him." He whispered, screwing his face up in the night. He was gad Jin couldn't see him. "I had one last opportunity to make things right and I lied, right to his damn face." Zuko spoke with bitter regret. "I don't know why, but I just couldn't do it. I couldn't bring myself to admit the truth. I meant so much to him. After all those long years of searching, he finally found somebody he could trust his life's work too. How could I tell him that the person he had faith in is the one who destroyed him?"

"You didn't destroy him." Jin spoke calmly and rationally, with the conviction of a girl who had turned the same predicament over and over in her own mind. "Every other printer in the city has lost everything too. It all got shut down. At least your boss was able to take enough money to get out. Isn't that what you wanted in the first place? Isn't that why you broke in?"

"I don't know why I did that." Zuko muttered, still livid with his stupidity. "I don't know what I was thinking. But the press was supposed to go to him. It's his, not mine. I don't deserve it."

"Clearly, you do." Jin clenched Zuko's free hand. "Or else he wouldn't have given it to you." Zuko kept quiet, looking up at the night sky, trying to remember any of the constellations he had been taught in his boyhood. But they had all slipped away in his mind, dissipating in the wind. They were shapeless and random in the velvety blackness. They didn't make any sense to him. Jin lingered for several moments, waiting for a response from him. But he remained silent, unwilling to speak, and with a muted sigh, she turned a little to the side, nose pressed into his neck. "Did you think any more about your Mum's offer?" Jin tried to rouse conversation after a long, quiet minute. She felt Zuko shift a little beneath her, uncomfortably. "I won't be hurt if you said yes." Jin spoke softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You won't be?" Zuko pulled apart from her, and sat up. She played with the end of her braid, nodding silently, not looking at him. "I can't thank you and your family enough for taking me in. I wish there was some way to repay you, properly." Zuko's hand rested on her shoulder. "I don't want you to feel like I'm abandoning you Jin. I'm not."

"I know you're not, don't be silly." She took his hand off of her shoulder, squeezing his cold fingers gently between her palms. "She's your mother. She wants you there. She needs you there Zuko." Jin stretched her lips in a small smile. Of course it hurt her. Of course she would rather have him there. But she would never be selfish enough to get between him and his mother. She'd gone down that road before, with other boys, and it always went bad. They'd always side with their mothers, in the end. "She wants you to be part of her family."

"And I want to be there." He was looking down at his knees. "I do... But Agni, it's going to be so strange. I have a baby brother and sister. And a stepfather. It just... It seems so weird. She moved on with her life so quickly after us." Zuko curled his fingers around Jin's warm palm. "She severed herself from us, completely."

"And you haven't?" Jin stared at him, an ivory gleam on their rooftop world of silver-brushed shadows. "I mean... If you could just stay here for ever... You would, wouldn't you?" Her eyes lowered, just a little. She kept flicking her gaze up to him, tentatively looking for a reaction, the emotions that she knew he could never put into words. Zuko's eyes were wide and shining in the moonlight, his mouth hanging just a little open. His tender grip on Jin's hand slackened for a moment, and he grasped her again, tighter than ever.

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it." He chose his words carefully. He was playing with her heart, he knew, and just one word out of place could destroy her. "I've been... I've been happier here, with you, than I have since I was a child." He still was a child. "If I could choose my own life, without any fear of consequence, I would stay here in a heartbeat." Her pretence dropped, and she stared at him openly, her eyes large and round and dark in her half-lit face. He could see the shadows of her eyes in the corner of his eyes, but couldn't meet her gaze. Why couldn't he look her in the eye? "I never would have imagined it, but we're really really good together. You're one of the strongest, smartest girls I know," He couldn't say the most. Not while his sister breathed. "And you're not beaten down by this city. You thrive in it. There's this light around you. And you don't care about what anyone says or thinks. Everyone else has judged me in an instant, the moment they learn my true name, with hatred and anger."

"You're more than a name." She spoke as soon as Zuko paused to draw breath. "Everyone's allowed a fresh start." But she wasn't smiling. Jin touched him gently on the face, coaxing him to finally look her in the eye. "You didn't answer my question."

"If I could, I would." Agni, her eyes looked so dark. They were like deep hollows in her face. He didn't like looking into them. There was no question in his mind about that. He'd stay with her forever if he could. If he wasn't needed, somewhere else. "But you already knew that. And that's not what you're really asking." He saw right through her, of course. Jin wanted him to promise, to vow that he would stay in the city. She wanted to bind him here. He wasn't a fool. "I wouldn't abandon you Jin. Wherever I go, you're always welcome at my side. I want you at my side."

"Wherever?" She challenged him. It was impossible. "Anywhere?" She pressed on, wanting him to open his damn mouth. "Even on the throne?" Zuko stared at her wordlessly, caught off-guard. "We both know that's what you really mean."

"I-I don't..." Zuko broke his painful gaze. His mouth was dry.

"If you win the War, and you become the Fire Lord, and regain everything you lost..." Jin sounded achingly close to tears. "Will you still need me?"

"What? Of course!" He was taken up in a sudden frenzy, taking her face, making sure she looked him in the eye. "Jin, I promise you, that I'll never let you go. Not for anyone or anything. What makes you think I care about the riches and the power of the Fire Lord if it meant losing you? I swear, if I could go back, I would not change a single thing about us. I'd rather be a beggar with you than the most powerful person in the world, alone." Jin's eyes were shining. She blinked, a single tear trickling down a sun-bronzed cheek. He engulfed her in a bone crushing hug, guilt swelling in his chest. He recounted everything he had done, everything he had said, to make her feel insecure. The little comments and remarks, the hints and thoughtless murmurs. You idiot. For all his words, a deep, dark part of himself still wanted the throne. She knew it plainly. "Jin, you mean so much more to me than a stupid throne." Jin buried her nose in his neck wordlessly, trying so hard not to cry as everything she had wrestled with slowly floated to the surface, her paranoia and insecurities and crippling fear that he would have to let her go. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." Her voice was muffled, by clothing or tears, he couldn't tell. She lifted her head to address him, her wet eyes catching the moonlight. "B-but... What if... What if you do win..." She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "The Fire Lord can't marry a peasant." Jin spoke frankly and plainly, her stomach clenching. Zuko watched her silently, feeling his own heart twist painfully at her words. He'd refused to think about it.

"They..." Zuko tried to come up with the words to console her. He tried to lie, tried to say that he could marry whoever he damn well pleased and the people would have to deal with it, but his lips just couldn't form the words. She was right. It would be political suicide. It would push the fragile country into civil war. He would lose the throne. Even as a concubine or mistress, she would incite a rebellion. They wouldn't want any part of her in his home country. It didn't matter if he loved her. There was no justification for keeping a foreign peasant in the Imperial Palace.

"I'll never let you go." He repeated himself, holding her tightly. "I swear it, by the stars watching us, I will never, ever let you go Jin." His own eyes stung. She lowered her head, burying herself in the collar of his shirt, grabbing tight handfuls of his clothing. Zuko arched his neck backwards, looking up at the night sky, the stars that were supposedly the spirits of his ancestors. I promise. He mouthed silently, up at the shifting mass of planets and galaxies. If he had to choose between them, he would choose her. In a heartbeat.

"Look at me." Jin sniffed as she was pulled away. "I don't want to leave you." His voice trembled, fingers digging in as he clung to her. "Not ever." He lay her down on the cold tiles, hands on her face as he looked at her in the moonlight. The light was back in her eyes. He didn't know if it was the moon or the stars or just her, but it lit up her face. He didn't have to look into those terrible black pits. Their noses touched. "Say something, please."

"I don't know what to say." She said truthfully. She was overwhelmed. Jin refused to believe that Zuko would truly, really, forsake his birthright and his kingdom for her. Not until she saw it for herself, would she trust his promise. Everything he had said and done pointed in the other direction. But her heart was swelling at the thought, consuming her. It wasn't just his grand promise that overcame her. It was the admission, that came with the simple truth that he loved her more than anything else. That he was truly happy with her, and her only. That he wouldn't leave her – not willingly.

"Are you happy?" Zuko whispered against her lips in the deep night. The city looked abandoned, desolate, without the thousands of lanterns to illuminate the streets and houses. Jin managed a thin, shaking smile as she nodded. Zuko buried his nose deep into the crook of her neck.

"Of course I am." Why was Zuko shaking? Was he cold? Jin rested her hand on the back of his head, stroking the hair gently. He was curled up into her like a child, embracing her so tightly, she struggled to breathe. His breath warmed her collarbone, but his skin, where she touched it, was cold. Jin held him patiently on the slanted roof, looking up at the stars. There seemed to be more of them in the night sky, without the lanterns below to distract her from them. Zuko's eyes were half-lidded, and they flickered occasionally, the feather-light touch of his eyelashes tickling the juncture of Jin's neck. Was he falling asleep? It was possible. She knew he didn't sleep much, he tossed and turned at night, and Jiro told her that he sometimes got bad nightmares, he whimpered and moaned in a restless sleep. But then again, Jin wasn't much better. She spent far too long looking up at the ceiling with open eyes, as horror after horror played out in her mind. She knew it was ridiculous – Zuko would always protect her and her family, and she had nothing to fear – but she was still seized by terror as she thought about what could happen if the Fire Nation came knocking on her door. What if they came for her when Zuko was away? It was a stupid thought, of course, what would they want with her? But it still left Jin in inward fits of terror. She knew that if it was her versus them, she would lose. She'd lost all faith in herself after her encounter with Azula.

Wait.

Jin's eyes had been drooping as she'd drifted off in thought, but they snapped open now, and she jerked up, the sudden move startling Zuko out of his own sleepy torpor. I just heard screaming. He pulled away from her with a gasp, rubbing at his eyes.

"What's wrong?" His heart raced at the sudden disruption, vision dull and blurry as he struggled to regain his vision.

"I heard something." Jin slid out from underneath Zuko, and stood up slowly, wavering a little on the unsteady tiles. He looked up at the girl, his brow creasing in confusion. She let out an odd groan, hand over her mouth. Her right arm was extended, pointing outwards. Zuko's eyes followed her gesture, and he stood up rather clumsily, still sleepy and ragged from his half-sleep. "Oh Spirits." Jin breathed, instinctively grasping Zuko's arm.

Fire.

It was a considerable distance away, and looked small, but they could both see flames shooting out the top floor window of a narrow, dilapidated house that thrust out above its' neighbours, a jagged, broken tooth in the mouth of the street. It was too far away for either of them to see anything, but they could both hear the screams. They rose slowly, lifting in the night air, growing in force and volume.

"I-It could just be a house fire." Zuko's mouth was dry as he rasped out the unconvincing words. Jin shook her head beside him.

"It's not just a house fire. Someone's set that alight." Her hold on him tightened. "Zuko..."

"Let's go." He led her across the roof without hesitation, still feeling sluggish and clumsy. Jin allowed herself to be gently tugged along without protest, and when Zuko let her go to scale down the side of the terraced street, she complied without protest. They couldn't see any fire from the street, but the black smoke rose in the night sky, hiding the stars. The streets were abandoned, but several men and women dared to crack the shutters open, and cautiously poke their heads out to catch a glimpse. There was no sign of Fire Nation soldiers. Jin's anxiety grew, the closer Zuko led her to the fire. She'd just thought about how she couldn't do anything to defend herself, she was too scared and inexperienced to defend herself against a hardened soldier, and how Zuko was bringing her into the heart of it. The nervousness rose in her, a bile, churning her stomach and leaving a sour taste in her mouth. The smell of smoke began to invade her nostrils, the shouts and cries rising, taking form. There was an orange glow between the buildings. Zuko grew tenser as he approached, nerves starting to sharpen. He was awake now, alert. He drew in a long, deep breath, the air tinged with smoke. It was like a drug to him. He'd always loved the smell of smoke. People began to cluster in their doorways, peeking nervously into the street, huddling in alleyways in groups. Several ran desperately in the other direction, screaming. One of them hit Jin in the shoulder, and she wavered on her feet, knocked off balance, but managed to keep pace with Zuko, who was determined to find the source of the fire. He knew it was more, much more than a kitchen catching fire. But neither of them was prepared for what they stepped into.

A riot.

The street swelled with people, the sound of shouts and screams, flailing fists. There were at least and well over six hundred civilians and half as many soldiers. Zuko tried to take in the scene, tried to figure out if the soldiers were trying to herd the townspeople anywhere or if they themselves were being beaten back, but it was complete chaos. One thing he did see, with a painful clench of the stomach, was that the fire had spread. The narrow, broken house had collapsed completely, and the neighbouring house, large, ugly building with a slanted roof, made entirely of wood, was quickly going up in flames. Zuko turned back to Jin.

"Go back." Her face was a flash of orange, mouth open and eyes wide. "It's not safe, go home and-"

"I'm not going anywhere." His hand was locked in an iron grip. Zuko looked at her again, a smudge of fire-yellow against the writhing shadows. Her chin was thrust out, mouth set in a hard, resolute line. Something rose within her, against the fear, fighting it directly. Jin saw the chaos before her, the violence and fire and inhuman screaming, and something in her chest had caught alight. She saw youths being beaten back, young boys and girls pushed to the ground and trampled underfoot, women screaming and scrabbling at armoured limbs as their half-conscious sons and husbands were dragged away. Jin clenched her fists, felt the earth beneath her feet, as the shock and outrage consumed her. How can they do this to us? Zuko looked into her eyes. She looked past him, beyond him into the anarchy on the street. There was no turning back for her. Zuko knew he couldn't convince her to retreat to safety, not with the violence laid out at their feet. Her grip was eye-watering. Zuko jerked his head back towards the fire, throat choking in horror as a terrible thought struck him.

What if someone is trapped?

He plunged head on into the pandemonium, holding one arm up before himself like a shield, the other clenched helplessly in Jin's grasp. The smoke thickened, the air was filled with screaming, he stepped on several limbs, someone grasped at his leg. He kicked them away, pushing himself relentlessly through the writhing crowd. Zuko received a hard knock on the shoulder, from what must have been a hammer or an iron bar. He didn't know if it was soldier or civilian, but it hurt. His cry of pain joined the thousands of others in the smoke-thickened night air, and he staggered forward as Jin's unbreakable iron grip was torn apart, she was wrenched away from him with a scream. He turned back, tried desperately to find her in the frenzied mob of fighting bodies, but she was indistinguishable from the crowd. Zuko clutched his shoulder, panic seizing in his throat as he stared around him. He knew he wouldn't be able to find her in the heart of the riot. An almighty crash sounded to his left, the rising shout of voices turning his head as the fire swelled. The roof of the burning house had fallen in. The heat rolled over the crowd in a long, slow wave. Clutching his injured shoulder, Zuko kicked and elbowed his way through the press of bodies around him, keeping his head bowed, hair falling over his scar.

The soldiers formed a line in front of the burning house, armed to the teeth, most holding fire in outstretched palms. Threatening them. Zuko was pushed forward , out of the crowd and into the blistering heat. He stumbled forward, almost fell, inches from the soldiers. Zuko took several steps back, biting his lip in pain. He was almost certain his shoulder was broken. There was no one to counteract the fire, no line of buckets or a water pump. They were going to let it burn out. So what if it consumed the entire street? Why would they care? Let it be a message to the people, a smouldering warning of what could happen.

"Let me go!" Zuko jerked sideways at the screaming. Someone had tried to break through the line of soldiers, into the house. He had been held back by the crowd, but at the collapse of the roof, burst free with an animal strength, charging towards the front door of the burning house. Zuko caught a glimpse of a short mop of black hair in a wide topknot, the thin beginnings of a beard along a square jaw. It took four soldiers to knock the young man to his knees, and cuff his arms behind his back. Zuko stared the whole time, reading his face. He'd seen him before. Where? The man was subdued with a blow to the head, knocked half-conscious to the ground. But he still screamed, his voice hoarse and broken. Zuko looked from the house and back to the man, struggling to place this strangers' face among the thousands and thousands he had seen over the past few months.

Wait. He remembered now. The hot, dusty trail. The stolen ostrich-horse. Being painfully hungry, wanting something, anything to eat. A solitary-looking wanderer. The smell of food. Turning back and wielding his sword only to find his lonely traveller with his hands on the swollen stomach of his pregnant wife.

No!

His stomach was clenched in a vice. Zuko stared at the burning building, horror rising at the thought of the young woman and her infant child trapped in the blaze. Zuko didn't think. He couldn't breathe. He charged his way through the line, broke his way through with a punch to the throat and a sharp sweep of the leg. The front door was still open, flames pouring out. Zuko ran through them, unafraid. He'd lost his ability to create fire, but he could still manipulate it. If the woman was still alive, he would be able to save her.

The fire had taken hold of the building quickly, and it groaned on charred foundations. The roof had already gone, and he only had a few minutes before the house would give way entirely. Zuko was in a long hallway. It looked like the building had been split up into several tiny apartments, and he didn't have time to check them all. He didn't need to. If they couldn't get out in time, they must have been far from the entrance. He ran to the back, finding the stairs. He could barely see through the smoke, and relied on heat to gauge the flames. The banister was on fire and the floorboards smouldered, but the stairs themselves were still intact, groaning under his weight.

"Hello?" Zuko shouted at the top of his lungs into the fire as he reached the second floor. After a seconds' thought, he ran towards the furthest door, kicking it down. The fire hadn't yet eaten through the thin walls, and he squinted in the gloom, the light indistinct and fuzzy after the blinding glow of the fire. A baby was crying weakly in the darkness. Zuko's heart leaped. "Anyone in here? Hello?"

"Tahn?" There was a thin voice, coming from the next room. Zuko tore open the sliding door, throat closing in horror at the sight before him. The ceiling had collapsed, a heavy beam pinning a young woman to the floor. She'd been bleeding; her dressed was splattered with black in the dim light. He stood beside the woman, running his hands over the beam. She gave a soft, disconsolate whimper. Her face was bone-white and she couldn't stop trembling. "Y-You're not..."

"I'm Lee." Zuko bent down over her. "Listen to me, I'm going to lift this off you, then I need you to move out of the way, okay?" His voice was low and urgent. He didn't know if he'd heard her for a moment, but she nodded, her eyes half-lidded. He grasped the beam, and pulled with his good arm. It was a solid pole of wood, and extremely cumbersome, but it gave under his weight. The light was bad, but Zuko could still see the nails sticking out of the wood. They were at thick, and least four inches long. He winced at the side, turning his face away from it. No wonder she bled. The woman managed to drag herself out of the way, moaning in pain as she collapsed on the floorboards, lax. Zuko let the beam fall with a heavy thud, sinking to his knees beside her. He was painfully aware that he had a few mere minutes to save her. He could live through a collapse – he'd survived much worse – but he couldn't protect her from the fire and choking smoke. "Come on." He took her hand, draping her arm across his shoulders. "I've got you." He lifted her with a wince, his shoulder on fire.

"No..." She was struggling weakly against him, sobbing. "Hope... Hope..." Zuko stilled in the doorway, looking down at her. She was pointing past him, into the darkness. "Please." The sound of the crying infant met their ears, Zuko's insides curling with shame. In the moment, he'd forgotten about the baby. He approached the bassinet in the corner of the room, crouching down so she could take her child in her arms. Zuko staggered a little as he straightened, the pain in his shoulder increasing with the added weight.

"Is there any other way out?" Zuko began to walk, slowly. Her breathing was shallow and ragged against his throat. He knew the front door would be useless, engulfed in flames. The moment he walked out, he'd be arrested for what he did to get past the soldiers. They stepped into the hallway, the woman gasping, her face lit up from the orange glow of the burgeoning flames. "Is there a back door?" She nodded against him, her neck lolling, slack. Her eyes drifted closed, desperate hold on the infant loosening. Zuko shook her a little, struggling to keep her awake. If she fell unconscious, she was doomed. "Hey. Wake up. Please." Zuko was at the stairs. "What's your name?" He tried to get her talking. Maybe that would keep her awake.

"Ying." She mumbled against him, holding her crying baby with a dogged determination.

"Ying." Zuko repeated, taking his first step on the groaning stairs. "Ying, do you remember my name?"

"Lee..." She groaned. Zuko nodded as he took another step. And another. His injured arm trembled under the strain, and he fought back physical tears at the pain. The flames were so close to them. Ying shrank away, in Zuko's arms, clinging to Hope. He knew they were both slowly suffocating in the smoke, and tried to move faster down the stairs.

It was an awful mistake.

Something went wrong, he heard a horrible crack, he didn't know if it was wood or bone, his footing was lost, and with a wrench and a scream and a blinding flash of pain, everything fell to blackness.

ZOMG the drama.

I hope you enjoyed the heavy jinko. I've been a bit light on it recently. There are other stories that need to be told. I guess you could see this as a sort of 'catch-up'