After lunch little Zuko heads straight back to the spot he's been using for meditating and practicing forms, Katara frowning as she watches him go because his earlier practice only seemed to get him worked up, and if four-year-old Zuko is anything like three-year-old Zuko, his mood only going to get worse as the afternoon progresses.
She's pretty sure four-year-olds need naps just as much as three-year-olds do.
She's not sure how to distract him this time, though. They don't really have much of anything around that might keep such a young child occupied, and if she's being honest with herself, it was a little bit of a miracle that he was so willing to go along with her earlier attempts.
He takes a breath, sinks down into a not entirely steady firebending stance, and pauses, tilting his head slightly and blinking as he stares across the courtyard.
A moment later he's on the move. Katara realizes too late he's making a beeline for Momo, who is curled up in the sun enjoying his own afternoon nap, but before she can get there-or even call out a warning-the kid's come to a complete stop, hands clasped carefully behind his back as the lemur-monkey opens both eyes to stare right back at him.
Katara's half expecting little Zuko to reach out and try to grab Momo, and so she crosses the courtyard quickly just in case, visions of tail-pulling and tiny hands pulling out patches of fur flashing through her mind-the younger version of their resident firebender is, after all, still very much a child.
Zuko, however, remains as he is, engaged in a staring contest with a creature that seems every bit as curious about him as he is about it.
Momo chitters, inches closer, then chitters again before leaping straight at the boy's face. Zuko-this version of him, anyway-lets out a high-pitched shriek of laughter as the lemur-monkey clambers first up his shoulders then onto his head. By the time Katara reaches them he's trying to look up at Momo without moving his head, grinning widely as he carefully reaches up a hand for the creature to smell.
Momo takes little Zuko's hand in his own and examines it briefly before licking the boy's palm.
"Ew," little Zuko says, giggling in spite of the protest.
"He likes you," Katara says, smiling. "He'll probably let you pet him, if you're careful."
"I know, don't pull his tail," Zuko scowls. "Or his fur. I'm not a baby." His expression clears as he reaches up to carefully stroke Momo's fur. "He's so soft."
"He is," Katara agrees as the lemur-monkey clambers down onto the boy's shoulders once more so as to be more easily accessible for petting purposes.
Zuko spends the next hour just standing there, sometimes petting Momo, sometimes scratching behind the lemur-monkey's ears. Momo in turn seems content to let the kid fawn over him-in fact, the creature seems to be enjoying the attention.
Still, it worries Katara when the kid starts to yawn. She clearly remembers the fit he threw yesterday, and Toph's claim that Zuko always gets cranky when he's tired, and really, one year's age difference is not enough for her to be confident that there won't be a repeat performance this afternoon, and she's not entirely certain that Momo won't get caught in the crossfire.
He yawns again, then looks over at Katara almost belligerently.
"I'm not a baby," he says.
Katara shrugs. "I know," she says. "But if you're tired, you should rest. Even adults need a break every now and again. Look at Toph-she's not a baby."
Little Zuko looks across the courtyard just in time to watch Toph sprawl out in the sun, hands tucked lazily behind her head.
"She doesn't like me," the boy says, voice suddenly small. Katara shakes her head and resists the urge to sigh.
"She likes you, Zuko, she just-"
"I can tell when someone doesn't like me." He looks almost miserable. "And when they're disa-disappointed." His shoulders hunch forward again. "She's not mean to me. But that doesn't mean she likes me."
This time Katara does sigh. "It's complicated, okay? Toph doesn't really like kids. And she-well let's just say the last couple of days have been hard for everyone. But she doesn't hate you, okay? And she doesn't want anything bad to happen to you."
"I know," he says. "My nurse was like that. She didn't like me, but she still wouldn't let anything bad happen to me." He looks up at Katara. "I don't know why she didn't. I can tell when someone doesn't like me, but I don't know why. Or how to get them to like me." He looks away, but not quickly enough to hide the tears forming in his eyes. "Lu Ten says I just have to be kind to people, but Da-Father says that kindness is for people who aren't strong enough to take what they want." He frowns. "I don't know what that means, but I want to be strong."
"You don't have to be mean to be strong," Katara says. "And kindness isn't weakness."
Zuko shrugs. "Father isn't nice. Neither is the Firelord."
"Do people like the Firelord?" Katara asks, reasonably enough-or so she thinks.
Zuko gasps; his eyes widen, and the color drains from his face as he stares at her. "You can't talk like that," he says, his voice barely a whisper.
"Like what?"
"You can't say bad things about the Firelord," he says, voice still nearly inaudible.
"Why not? He's not here." Katara points out.
Zuko wiggles uncomfortably, his distress only growing. "Please." He stares up at her, eyes still far too large in his pale face. "You've been so nice to me. I don't want anything bad to happen to you. I don't want you to disappear."
"Okay," she says, because tears are threatening to form in those golden eyes and the kid looks genuinely frightened. "Okay, I'm sorry. How about I make up to you by telling you a story?"
He perks up almost immediately. "About dragons?"
Katara falters. "Well, I don't really know anything about dragons, Zuko." His face falls, but only for a moment.
"I know Love among the Dragons," he says, coming to sit beside her. "I'll tell you."
He spends the next fifteen minutes or so delivering a surprisingly well-rehearsed introduction to a story he must have heard hundreds of times to be able to repeat so easily only to doze off mid-sentence. By this point he's curled up beside her, head in her lap, Momo pressed against his back. Like nearly everything else this much younger version of their resident firebender has done so far, it absolutely precious, and Katara can't help but smile down at the kid even as she wonders how this sweet little boy grew up to be the sullen teenager that spent years chasing them around the world, betrayed her, and nearly got the Avatar killed.
"Sparky?"
It takes Katara a moment to realize that at some point she must have dozed off. She vaguely remembers shifting into a more comfortable position on her back, and little Zuko adjusting his own position to bury his face in her side without ever waking up, but at some point they both must have moved, because now she's on her side with one arm slung over the kid's shoulders as he nestles up against her, still asleep.
Toph stands before them both, head tilted slightly as if listening for something. "Get off him."
Katara blinks at the other girl's tone. It's a very specific tone of voice, one that says Toph will literally fight someone if they don't do as she says, but why she's using it now is beyond the waterbender. "Toph?"
"You heard me." Toph scowls, then- "Breathe, Sparky."
Katara abruptly realizes the child cuddled up against her chest is, in fact, not breathing. She loosens her hold, pulling her arm back and shifting to put some space between them. In the amount of time it takes her to do that, she realizes he's not only not breathing, he's not moving at all.
A second later there's a tiny gasp as the boy manages to take in the slightest bit of air. It takes him another couple of seconds to start drawing in small, shaky breaths. By this time he's no longer frozen in place.
Instead he's shaking. Katara's still close enough to see the steady tremor running through his tiny frame. His breath catches again as he carefully pushes himself upright, body hunched in on itself as he stares at the ground.
Toph remains silent, watching with pursed lips and her hands on her hips. At a loss, Katara remains still as well, waiting.
Zuko's breathing gradually starts to even out. The shaking stops soon after, though the boy has yet to uncurl or look up.
"Sorry-" The boy's breath catches again. "I-" He forces out an unsteady breath and makes himself look up. "It's-disorienting, waking up like this."
"Like what?" Katara asks, though she's pretty sure she already knows. What she doesn't understand is why waking up next to her would leave him scared enough to freeze like that. Sure, she didn't really like him (doesn't like him?) before all this happened, and she's still kind of mad about the statue (there's no proof he saved her from it), but it's not like she'd do anything to him while he slept, especially in his current state.
Zuko frowns, and shrugs, "Like this," he says lamely, gesturing towards his still entirely too small body. "And-" he hesitates. "Um-"
Toph huffs and joins them on the ground. "Trapped under Katara's giant arm?" she drawls. When Zuko reddens and lets out another still slightly shaky breath, her expression softens. "If they don't already know you don't like being touched by now they're even dumber than I originally thought."
Zuko shrugs and looks away, suggesting that there's more to it than the firebender simply not being a fan of physical contact. "I wasn't sure where I was at first," he admits in soft baby soprano, and it still very much weirds Katara out to hear this four-year-old child using their Zuko's normal speech patterns. "And then-" he pauses, takes a breath as if to continue, but doesn't seem to know where to go from there.
"It took me weeks to get him trained," Toph offers eventually. "That first night I plopped down next to him I thought he was going to have a heart attack."
Katara considers this. "You know we're not going to hurt you," she says. The slightest of flinches tells her more clearly than anything he could possibly said that he did not, in fact, know that. "Zuko, you're what-four years old? Maybe we haven't figured everything out yet-and sure, I'm still struggling with the whole you-betrayed-us-and-nearly-got-the-Avatar-killed thing. But I'm not a monster. Besides, what are you going to do that we might possibly feel like we need to defend ourselves from? You can't even firebend."
Zuko takes another unsteady breath. It's almost like he's trying to meditate, but can't quite get the breath right.
"We're not going to hurt you," Katara says, more firmly this time. "You have my word on that."
He nods, and his shoulders loosen just a little.
Author's Note: Uh, little baby Zuko is adorable? Also, I love exploring trauma in my favorite characters? That's really all I've got in the way of excuses for my behavior, other than admitting that once something like this pops into my head it rarely goes away until I do something about it, so.
Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender does not belong to me.