Working title: Handled.

Credits:

Special thank to Boogum and to Gilva Lepista for beta-ing.

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Bury your Dreams

0000~Z~0000

Like a phantom, the dark silhouette snuck through a wide manor's garden, weaving from shadow to shadow with relaxed ease.

That was Lee's first clue that he was dreaming: in real life, he would not have been so carefree. No matter what he was, Lee had always tried to follow the rules. But in this dark shell of a disguise, no obligation, no rule, no worry could touch him.

Until he passed a silent pond.

From its still surface, the water reflected a blue and white mask smiling back at him: an intricate theater prop lit by the moon's rays, beckoning him with stories and half-remembered tales.

At that, a small pit of worry formed in the center of his being.

"That is not me," Lee mumbled, reaching to undo the clasp at the back, letting that theatrical face fall away to reveal-

Yet another mask: a red, burning demon. The painted features were pulled back in a savage snarl, teeth bared and eyes blazing.

"No..." his misgivings turned to fear, breath coming in short pants. "That's not right. I'm…"

Panicking, Lee reached for this mask's clasp, but he could not find it. The painted wood felt hot the touch. His skin was burning, searing off. The young man could smell his own flesh and hair burning, pain blotting out all else.

Again.

Fingers dug into crevasses, parting flesh from painted wood, and he pulled; yanked. The mask fell away, exposing sweaty skin to sweet, cold night air.

The face staring back at him this time had high cheekbones and a light pallor. Like all the refugees down here in the lower ring. Dark, long bangs hid his one identifying feature: the scar over his eye.

The sight of Lee's own face should have been calming, but it set free a torrent of sheer terror instead.

No! That's not me either!

He screamed - or tried to, for the face that was his suddenly had no mouth. Muted, by a muzzle from his own skin. He couldn't breathe. In desperation, he clawed at what was now an empty, featureless plane.

No mouth, no nose, no eyes.

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Nails scratching his cheek woke him, a sheet tangled over his arms.

Lee sat up in the dark and, after a moment, calmed his breath to the sound of his uncle's snores. The terror drifted away with the dream, and soon all that was left was confusion. As much as the young man puzzled, he could find no reasonable explanation for his nightmare. No happenstance to trigger it, no memory he could find buried underneath. Had he run afoul some theater group as a child or something?

"I should get a therapist," he muttered, turning to his side and willing himself to sleep.

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0000~I~0000

When all but the old tea-maker and Long Feng had filed out of the meeting room, Iroh could not help but push his argument once again: "It is unnatural. A bender's nature should never be suppressed."

The leader of the Dai Li - and king in all but name - simply smiled. Clearly, he was unimpressed. "If it bothers you so much, I suppose we can change your nephew's story once more without too much risk. I'm sure the generals will have many uses for a young fire bender." The shadow-king paused, to let this doom-scenario echo in Iroh's head; the visions it called for the old general were eerily reminiscent of his dear son Lu-Ten's end.

"Ac-tually," Long Feng contemplated out loud, drawing out the word, "bringing him to his own self would be most entertaining." Only now did Long Feng's grin turn nasty, as he languished in his power over the legendary Dragon of the West. "His spirit would likely break at the very idea of betraying his family and country, but to pit your boy against his crazy sister…"

-"Spirits above! Have you even seen my nephew lately? That would be an execution, not a fight! No! Please!" Perhaps the old Dragon of the West had finally lost its teeth, but Iroh would not sacrifice a second son to this blasted war. No matter what the cost.

Attempting to salvage the conversation, Iroh diverted attention with his next breath. "I meant the Avatar's friends more than Z—than Lee. They are suffering; you must see that. You are suppressing their very spirits, have taken their identity. Not to mention, without his friends, the Avatar is lonely … weakened."

Long Feng snorted, twisting his mustache. "I think I've already gone far enough by approving this ridiculous law allowing women to conscript. I am not going to drag children along for the ride as well."

Allowing women to enlist might have been Iroh's suggestion, but the law had only passed because the situation was so dire. People were starving, and the rice they had left stacked in the warehouses was sour and spoiled; useless even for brewing, though many still tried at that. This siege needed to be broken, and the only way that seemed possible now was with an extra army to man the walls while the men tried to break through. They did not need to defeat the great hordes at their door, but, they needed to capture some provisions. Soon. It seemed odd that Long Feng remained so calm with the entire situation- almost like there was something the man was not telling him. 'Ah, Iroh, old fool!' He chided himself. 'Of course there is. Actually, there are probably a lot of things he is not telling me, most likely.'

As for allowing children to fight, Iroh had proof Long Feng would have no moral qualms that would keep him from such a practice. "The Avatar-" Iroh began.

"-Is an ancient spirit, and the most powerful being in the world," Long Feng interjected. "Now, thank you for your tea, Mushi. And goodbye."

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0000~Z~0000

There were weevils in the rice again.

There were always weevils in the rice these days. If rice without weevils ever made it into the city, Lee imagined it was sent straight to the Upper Ring. It was impossible to get the bugs out, and they were probably better for him than the rice itself. Cooked, the larvae sort of looked like rice grains, and at least they didn't move anymore. Lee knew he shouldn't let it bother him.

Unfortunately, his reasoning did little to convince his over-sensitive palate. After much procrastinating, he managed three bites before the bile rose in his throat and he had to forcefully keep his dinner down by blocking his mouth with a hand. Tears were streaming down his good eye and Lee considered himself lucky that Mushi was still out at a tea-serving for the generals, and not here to see. His uncle fussed over him and his eating habits too much already.

Lee had as little stomach for the old man's sympathy as he did for his dinner. Everyone else ate the bloody rice. Why couldn't he?

"What was wrong with you, anyway?" he growled in an attempt to talk reason to his rebellious digestive system "Do you mean to starve me, slowly and pathetically? Just another nobody?"

But Lee was saved from attempting another bite by a sound and shadow at the door; they announced the arrival of Uncle. With a wipe across his cheek, Lee stood to usher the old man inside.

"About time, Uncle. Tell me you pilfered a lot of pastry today. It's rice with extras for dinner again." Lee made a face, moving to the kitchen sink to shake out the little cardboard box they kept handy for such an occasion. "You know I hate rice with extras."

Mushi chuckled, producing snacks from many pockets. "That is an understatement. Hey, don't forget to share!"

Lee scoffed. "I'll be sharing this with Jin and her family. I bet you already sneaked your fair bit during work anyway." With a swipe of the hand, he indicated his uncle's gut, conveniently disregarding how little of that there was left.

The old man mocked a pained look. "Celebrations and I'm not invited again? Tonight is your anniversary, right? Two year is a long time, Lee."

"We're just dating, Uncle. Besides, I'll just run these by for family dessert and be back for the night shift."

A pastry hung suspended, as Mushi's hand paused on its trip towards the box. "But you know Jin wants take you out with her friends; she's been going on about it for weeks."

"You mean nagging." Lee closed the box and placed the last pastry in his mouth, speaking around it. "Thursday is one of the soldier divisions' evenings off. You know I work those nights."

Mushi frowned. It was true. From Wednesday to Saturday, every night one group of soldiers got their evening off. It was a reprieve from the ongoing siege; not even war could keep men committed and concentrated for almost two years without a reprieve, especially with their families and girlfriends just a short walk away. So, as a consensus, all soldiers got one day off every week. Four days a week, four different groups. The last three nights were left to the city itself, to recuperate from those four wild nights in a row.

But on Soldier Nights, the city partied. On those nights, Lee and Mushi worked the night shift. They made a lot more those nights, and the money was needed with the way food prices were sky-rocketing. But that was not the only reason Lee worked on Soldier Nights...

Lee never went out on those nights.

The times Mushi had inquired further, his nephew had expertly dodged the question. The old tea-brewer obviously had his suspicions, but he did not press the matter now. Mushi likely thought he could leave this matter to Jin's own cajoling expertise.

"If you change your mind, nephew, know that I will cover for you, no problem."

Yes; obviously Uncle did. But Lee had already made up his mind on the matter. He knew he was lucky the city had taken him in. And he'd already caused more trouble than warranted when he and his uncle first came here. Lee had to keep his head down. Add the fact that summer was coming along - never his best time - and his temper was up the rafters even more then usual… Lee just didn't see a good end to himself cooped up with a bunch of rowdy soldiers all night. So he mumbled something, trying to convey the certainty that he would not be swayed. Then he pushed out the door, box in hands.

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0000~S~0000

After Katara's third round of dancing and drinking, Sokka decided that she had found a boy who was enough of a gentleman that he could leave her be for a few minutes, and so he made his way to the pit. He figured he'd have a few challenges while he was there. After all, he hardly felt like squandering all his savings on booze that would get him sick before drunk, and there really was little else to do around here but drink, dance, or watch and participate in the entertainment.

It was the main reason Sokka came here, and he and his black sword had already built quite a name for himself. That name would go a long way to secure Sokka a spot with Jet's Blade Masters.

His reputation already came handy here and now, actually. No soldier got any randy ideas about making a move on his flirtatious sister after they'd seen Sokka work his magic with the blade. And with the full moon only in a few days, Katara was just that: over-active, prickly and very flirtatious.

Dancing, drinking and staying up all night for almost a full week every month might not be healthy. And between their tasks at the Bei Fongs' and Sokka's sword-practice, these weeks left both of them exhausted. But it was still better than the alternative: staying home, watching his sister slowly tear her own mind apart…

Sokka might not understand what was wrong with his sister, but he did know the energy needed to be vented. An escape, before the dark power that pulled on her would lash out and hurt her and those around her. Sokka understood, because whatever it was, even a scientific soul such as his could feel its pull.

At least as a warrior, in a city under siege and finally forced to admit that they were at war, he had better ways to vent his frustration…

With a graceful leap, Sokka jumped down into the pit. Two men were already doing warm-up exercises. They looked sullen at his arrival, like they had hoped to have their bout before he showed up, but neither had the guts to deny him when he started discussing turns. That was good for Sokka, because he easily talked them into giving him the first bout. Then the second guy would fight him. Not the winner, no. He'd fight Sokka.

Mentally, the water-tribesman had already won both bouts.

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0000

When then entertainment for the evening started up, Jin saw that the water-Tribesman was competing again. Two short bouts and the boy was proclaimed the winner in both. Doing his name justice, Jin knew, and quickly too. She actually missed the action from the second bout, because she looked away to accept her drink. By the time she looked back, his opponent was on the floor.

The loser was cradling his arm where the Tribesman's shielded blade had hit. From the audience came happy, high-pitched shrieks from the girls and admiring? murmurs from the men. Both Jin's friends – Suzy and Lika – joined in the shrieks. The boy on Lika's arm was one of those making appreciative murmurs. Only Lee did not make a sound. He held hands with her dutifully, but he seemed set on ignoring the match all together.

The night was not shaping up as she had hoped.

The two of them had been dating for two years —a damn long time, by Jin's reckoning. And while she had finally managed to convince him to come along to a proper gathering on a Soldier Night, showing off her boyfriend to her friends was not going as intended. His modesty and shy nature had always endeared Lee to her before, but not right now.

Lee was not a social man, Jin knew that. But he could have tried a little harder to impress her friends, right?

"So, Lee. What do you do?" Lika had asked, in an already desperate attempt at conversation. Oh, but how Lee could scowl! Jin wondered if he was even aware of the level of animosity he breathed.

"I serve tea."

And Jin had winced, that time, at the finality of his tone.

Lika, bless her, had persisted nonetheless. "That sounds … interesting. Do you know much about tea?"

"No. I care nothing for tea."

"Oh. Well, what do you do for fun?"

"Nothing."

And that, finally, had been the end of even dear Lika's patience. The girl had turned and signaled a friend at the very next opportunity, and was now on the other side of the pit, making small-talk with this boy on her arm. A boy she probably had little interest in but for the fact that he provided her a buffer to hide behind. From Lee.

Jin couldn't blame her.

She did, however, blame Suzy a little bit. Because Suzy might still be actively engaging with them, but her colleague had made it glaringly obvious the only reason she did so was to laugh at Jin's expense. Laugh every time her boyfriend's social awkwardness got them into trouble. And that was a lot.

When he ordered a drink.

When someone standing next to him made the mistake of trying casual conversation.

Whenever Lee looked anyone's way for too long…

Lee didn't mean anything by it. His face just made him look angry. And he never had gotten the hang of disarming smiles. Add to that the fact that he would never be called talkative... Well, Jin liked to think he was just shy. But nobody would realize that. Lee would just seem rude and aloof to a stranger. It was ridiculous; anyone else would call the young man's behavior nasty, but her boyfriend likely thought he was being polite.

Yes, right now, that modesty was putting a blush on Jin's cheeks, and not in a good way. Suzy had already commented that at least the boy looked "…unique?" and "acted the part". Her cross-eyed squint showed just what she thought of that too.

Jin sighed, turning towards the dug-out pit for reprieve in the form of entertainment. At least there was a fight going on, which meant Lee for now had an excuse for not talking. Not that the man on her arm was paying much attention to the sunken stage. No; but Jin thought everyone could at least pretend for now he was quiet out of courteousness towards those that did want to watch.

"Undefeated!" The water tribe swordsman roared from below, and his action suddenly piqued Jin's attention in a different way.

This Sokka character had a lot of female fans, Suzy included. They adored him; yes, right now, Suzy was positively swooning as the boy below did his 'water-tribes rule' hand-gestures. It was hardly a surprise; Sokka was here about seven times a month with his little sister, so it was rumored. The one that danced and partied like a woman possessed.

The water-tribe warrior was still making his rounds, challenging the first rows in the audience to try their hands against him. They were all weary, of course. Nobody ever beat this Sokka. Rumor had it he already had secured a spot on the Blade Masters and would take this coveted place in the ranks as soon as he turned eighteen. Yes; Jin knew the water tribesman was good. She also knew her Lee was better.

Now there was a skill that would impress her friends.

"Come on, Lee! Show them how it's done." Jin felt a little guilty for pushing. But there was little point to taking her guy with her if she could not show him off. He would do this one thing for her, surely. "I've seen you. You can take that little brat."

Lee frowned. "I've quit the blades. I told you. Besides, it's not like I still have my dao."

"Oi," Suzy called, interest suddenly piqued. She boisterously put a hand on Lee's shoulder, ignoring how his frown deepened in warning. "Dave uses dao. I bet I can get him to lend them to you."

"I can't…"

"Please, Lee. Just this once? For me?" Jin was down to her last resort: puppy eyes. "As a present. For today."

He scowled, because she knew quite well that coming along on a Soldier Night was his present to her. But for all his nasty looks, Lee was never one to deny her anything.

"This is a bad idea." He informed her, but Suzy was already heading Dave's way. And Jin, well; she had already made up her mind about this.

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I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to review! Thank you!

"Handled" by theAsh0, edits by Gilva Lepista; April 20, 2013; chapter 2 (Bury your Dreams), page 6/9