Sokka wasn't entirely sure what to do with Zuko now that he'd joined the group. Sure, it was nice to know that they didn't have to run from him anymore (assuming he had, in fact, been telling the truth like Toph said he was), but that didn't mean it was comfortable. For any of them. In fact, Zuko himself almost seemed to be the most uneasy out of all of them, and he kept shooting nervous glances at Katara when she wasn't looking.

Sokka didn't blame him. He too had a healthy fear of his sister's wrath, which Zuko seemed to incur simply by existing. And… Zuko always seemed to think about what he was going to say before he said it?

Everyone did that to a certain extent, obviously, but Zuko more so. It was almost like he was… censoring himself.

He probably was; after all, ten - thirteen, fourteen? How old was Zuko, anyway? - years of having Fire Nation propaganda shoved down your throat didn't go away in a couple of days. He was most likely reminding himself not to call Sokka and Katara "Water Tribe peasants" and that Aang's name was not "Avatar."

Sokka didn't realise just how wrong he was.

It wasn't until they'd been on Ember Island for a few days that Sokka discovered that Zuko had, indeed, been censoring himself, but not in the way he'd suspected.

Sokka was minding his own business, exploring the beach house that apparently belonged to the flippingFire Lord,when he heard it.

"Holy motherfucking shit!"

What.

Sokka rounded the corner to see Zuko, holding his foot and hopping around in the most undignified manner he'd ever seen from the normally graceful prince.

"Uh… Zuko? Everything okay, buddy?"

Zuko immediately dropped his foot and straightened up, looking distinctly embarrassed. "Yep. Everything's fine. Just stubbed my toe. It's fine."

Sokka couldn't keep the grin off his face. "Right. And the swearing?"

"Swearing? What swearing? I didn't hear any swearing."

"Uh-huh."

At this point, it's important to note that the Gaang has the collective swearing vocabulary of - well, a 112 year old monk. The worst Aang ever said was "monkey feathers," which was something he'd picked up from Sokka, who'd picked it up from Toph, who'd picked it up from Earth Rumble Six.

This was, of course, because the only people who ever cursed in the Southern Water Tribe were the warriors, who all left before Sokka and Katara were old enough to learn those words; Toph was the daughter of two high-standing Earth Kingdom nobles, so her only exposure to curse words was an earthbending tournament; and Aang was raised by monks. One hundred years ago.

Suki, possibly, knew more curse words than all four of them combined, but she never used them.

Until now, Sokka had assumed Zuko, being the prince of the Fire Nation, didn't know any curse words either… but apparently he did.

It was soon revealed that Zuko knewallthe curse words, as Sokka - and the rest of the Gaang - found out upon their return from seeing "The Boy in the Iceberg" performed by the Ember Island Players.

"I can't fucking believe this," Zuko was saying. "I mean, I knew they were bad, they completely fuckingdestroyed'Love Amongst the Dragons' every spirits-damned year, but this takes the fuckingcake.I can't believe those bastards somehow managed to get so many fucking things wrong! Honestly, how hard can it be to cross-check your facts so your play isn't a fucking piece of shit? I swear to Agni, they didn't even get our characters right! I have not, nor will I ever, feel anything other than non-romantic feelings for Katara!" He started pacing, oblivious to the shocked faces staring at him. "Actually, speaking of Katara, what thefuckwas that portrayal of her? It was like they were trying to turn her into a bitch! Katara is not a bitch! And what in Agni's name was Aang supposed to be? I mean, yeah, he's so optimistic it's almost painful, but evenAangisn't a ball of fucking happinessall the bloody time!And Sokka! As terrible as Sokka's jokes are, at least they're funny! And not all fucking meat related! Not to mention what they did tomycharacter! Okay, sure, I used to be an asshole. I used to be a bit focused on my honour. I get that. But that doesn't define who I am! And my scar is on theleftside of my fucking face! Considering I got my scar in front of a huge-ass crowd, you'd thinksomeonewould remember that Ozai is right-handed! And Suki wasn't eveninthe play! Suki is a motherfuckinggoddess,how could they not include her, honestly!" He paused, taking a deep breath, then launched into yetmoreranting before anyone could say anything. "The only thing they got right was Toph, and even that was nowhere near accurate! Toph iswayfucking scarier than that! Had any of their sources actuallyseenToph fighting? She could kick the Fire Lord's ass even without touching the ground! Tui and La, that play was a bloody piece of shit!"

The room was silent as Zuko snatched the playbill from Suki's hands and set it on fire with a disturbingly Azula-esque grin.

"You just said… so many bad words…" Aang gasped, looking absolutely scandalised.

Zuko shrugged. "I spent three years on a boat with navy officers. They taught me as many curse words as they could within the first month."

Katara snorted.

"I'm flattered you think so highly of me," Suki said.

"Yeah, me too, Sparky," Toph agreed.

Sokka, however, had focused on one sentence.

Considering I got my scar in front of a huge-ass crowd, you'd thinksomeonewould remember that Ozai is right-handed!

Zuko was sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

"Hey, jerkbender…" He watched as Zuko's head shot up to look at him. "Why was there a crowd when you got your scar? And why did you say Ozai was right-handed like it was an important detail?"

Instantly, everyone was staring at Zuko's face, and, Sokka suspected, coming to the sickening realisation that the scar was almost hand-shaped.

"...It was an Agni Kai. Firebender duel. Those typically have audiences, because they're used to resolve matters of honour." Zuko's voice was quiet, vulnerable, and starkly different from the passionate speech he'd given mere moments before.

Katara's eyes were wide. "Why were you fighting the Fire Lord in an Agni Kai?"

Zuko curled in on himself, sliding down against the wall until he was sitting. "I begged my uncle to let me into the war meeting. I wanted to learn how to lead the Fire Nation. I wanted to learn how to be a good Fire Lord. The only condition was that I had to stay silent." His words had become clipped, emotionless. "One of the generals proposed a plan to use a division of new recruits as bait so the stronger divisions could attack the earthbenders from behind. I…" A deep breath. "I couldn't let them do that, so I protested. Said they were betraying our people. I disrespected the general. The Fire Lord declared an Agni Kai in compensation. The general was old. I knew I could defeat him."

He was shaking now, Sokka noted worriedly.

"But it was the Fire Lord's war room, so it was the Fire Lord I had disrespected. I didn't know that until I turned around and saw him. So I begged." Zuko's voice broke, and then it filled with what could only be described as despair. "I got on my knees and Ibegged.He insisted I fight, and when I didn't, he cupped my face, like a father should. I thought he was going to forgive me."

Aang and Katara were crying, and Toph and Suki looked horrified. Sokka just felt empty.

Zuko looked up then, but his eyes were glazed, like he was seeing something else. "And he just sneered at me and said, 'You will learn respect, and suffering shall be your teacher.'"

If the way Zuko had said those words was accurate, then Ozai's voice wasterrifying.But not as terrifying as the next eight words Zuko said.

"And then he set my face on fire."

And then Sokka saw red.

Zuko shook his head and looked at Aang, silent tears trickling down his face…but only on one side.

The red intensified, and Sokka struggled to stop himself from marching to the Fire Nation capital and strangling Ozai himself.

"Do you understand now, Aang? That's why you have to kill him," Zuko whispered. "If he was willing to do that to his own son for something as trivial as speaking out of turn at a war meeting, imagine what he will do to his enemies."

Zuko stood then, and Sokka was suddenly reminded of the angry warriors they'd met all those months ago.

"Do you understand, Aang?" he repeated. "You have to fucking kill him, because if you don't…" His eyes flashed dangerously. "Then I will."

And then he was gone.

~~~

It hurt to see Lula chained to the grate of the waterways, unhinged and broken.

It hurt because beneath it all, beneath the frantic, jerking movements in desperate attempts to get free, her face hadn't quite lost all its baby fat.

It hurt because Azula was only fourteen, holy spirits she's still so young, the same age as Katara - Katara, who looked so cold and composed with just a hint of sorrow, and from what he'd seen of her bending was really only different from Azula in that her father genuinely loved her and her brother had never been afraid of her and did his best to protect her.

It hurt because that was Lula, his baby sister, who used to look at him and Lu Ten with wonder and adoration in her eyes as they taught her how to tie her own top-knots, as he showed her how to feed the turtleducks, as Lu Ten showed off the latest firebending form he'd learned.

It hurt because he was her big brother. He was supposed to protect her.

It hurt because he'd failed.

It also physically hurt, because she'd just shot him with lightning and Katara's healing could only do so much. But that didn't hurt quite as much.

So, naturally, that was when Sokka (who had a broken leg), Suki (who somehow didn't have so much as a hair out of place, further confirming Zuko's suspicion that she was, in fact, a literal goddess), Toph (who was grinning as devilishly as ever), and Aang (who honestly looked like shit) showed up.

With a very-much-alive Ozai in tow.

"I took his bending away," Aang explained tiredly. "He's harmless now."

Zuko resisted the urge to snort derisively. Ozai would never be harmless, not as long as his tongue was still functional. Not as long as his words could worm their way into Zuko's head and tear down any semblance of strength he'd ever had.

Even Azula's deranged begging quieted as Zuko approached his father. He couldn't help but appreciate the irony of the situation - for once, it was Ozai who was kneeling on the ground, completely at Zuko's mercy, instead of the other way around like it had been in Zuko's nightmares for the last three years.

Ozai seemed to have reached the same conclusion, though his pride wouldn't let him beg for forgiveness.

No, "I only had the nation's best interests at heart" this time. No, "You will fight for your honour." No, "You will learn respect, and suffering shall be your teacher."

Just two pairs of eyes. One rusty, like an abandoned warship, the other vibrant gold, like Agni themself, still glowing with the power of the comet.

Just two men, a father and his son, a monster and a traumatised child.

"Are you going to gloat, Zuko?" Ozai sneered, after the silence had dragged on for too long.

Zuko merely shook his head. He heard Aang suck in a sharp breath, and knew they were both remembering the promise of patricide from Ember Island.

Ozai scowled. "Are you going to execute me, then?"

"The Avatar has made his decision," Zuko said tonelessly. "I will respect it."

Aang sighed in relief.

Ozai's scowl deepened. "If you will not execute me, what will you do?"

That wasn't worth responding to yet.

"I see. It seems you are as weak as ever, despite my best efforts."

That was worth responding to. "I'm stronger than you'll ever be, despite your best efforts," Zuko spat. "It would be so easy, so easy, to kill you right here, right now. But I won't. Because I'm better than that. Better than you."

Ozai's scowl got impossibly deeper still. "You are nothing compared to me."

Zuko looked down his nose at him. "You're right. I'm not a monster whose ego is so fragile that he felt the need to permanently scar a thirteen year old for being a better leader than him."

Because Zuko had seen enough leaders now - Uncle Iroh, Suki, Sokka, Hakoda, even Jet - to know that that's what had really happened in that war council. Zuko had done what a leader is supposed to do, putting their people first, while Ozai, the actual leader, threw the people's lives away. Like they weren't people at all, but puppets, tiles on a Pai Sho board.

Like Azula, who had thought she was the player but was merely the most powerful piece on the board.

Like Zuko himself had been, until he turned out to be the white lotus tile his uncle had lost all those months ago, which was freed from the player's control.

Ozai looked like he'd been slapped. But while he had lost his literal fire, he hadn't lost his verbal one. "I suppose that's what your precious cousin thought when my assassins took his life?"

Zuko's next words were punctuated by sparks flying from his mouth. "Your assassins?"

"Are you really so stupid as to have believed a prince with firebending prowess to rival your sister's could have been killed by such idiots as earthbenders?"

Several things happened at once.

Zuko looked desperately at Suki, who nodded grimly.

Toph earthbent Ozai's restraints tighter until his wrists snapped, clearly offended by his statement about her people.

Suki drew a knife.

"You're pathetic," Zuko whispered, and then all hell broke loose.

Aang looked away very deliberately, giving his permission.

Sokka punched Ozai in the face, smashing his nose, which subsequently started to bleed.

Katara bent that blood into Ozai's eyes, causing him to cry out in a mixture of surprise and discomfort.

Suki acted on Zuko's earlier silent plea. She reached into Ozai's mouth, grabbed his tongue, and cut it off.

Zuko fell to his knees and let himself be truly vulnerable for the first time since his mother left.

That was how Iroh found them, when he returned from Ba Sing Se, along with Hakoda, who'd met up with him at some point. Zuko on his knees, dried tear tracks on his face (which was more relaxed than Iroh had ever seen it), surrounded - and slightly squished - by Aang, Katara, Sokka, Suki, and Toph, who were all hugging him; all six of them sound asleep.

Iroh's gaze then turned to his brother, unconscious but alive, with his wrists bent at odd angles and his nose disfigured and his face covered in blood, lying on the ground next to a small, pink lump.

Now, Iroh normally wasn't a very violent person.

But seeing Ozai like that, after everything that man had done to the boy Iroh considered his own, brought a smug smile of grim satisfaction to his face.

It was about time someone put Ozai in his place.

It was about time someone showed Zuko just how much he was loved.

Mmmm.. M. M. M. M. M.

Never in his life did Zuko think he would be so relieved to see a warship land in the palace courtyard.

He's standing in the middle of the courtyard, Katara's arm around him to support part of his weight and keep him steady. He's still trembling slightly from the lightning blast and from feeling his heart shatter at the sight of Azula sobbing with grief and rage, chained to the grates with blue fire roaring from her mouth. She'd screamed herself into passing out at some point, and her limp body remains hunched over where Katara had left her.

Zuko can't bring himself to look at her.

"Do you think they're…" He trails off, glancing at Katara. She looks back at him, and he immediately regrets saying anything.

"We have to hope," she says, and Zuko nods.

The door to the warship opens. Zuko's heart clenches in anticipation, and he and Katara rush forward as quickly as they can. Someone's limping down the rampway, leaning heavily on what looks like a bunch of taped together sticks, his warrior's wolf tail slightly undone.

"Sokka!" shouts Katara, a huge smile breaking across her face. Tears are welling up in her eyes, and Zuko looks away out of respect for her. But she doesn't seem to care, even as her smile fades as her eyes land on the crutch.

"Katara!" Sokka limps forward, grinning widely. If Katara weren't steadying Zuko and Sokka didn't have a clearly broken leg, Zuko has no doubt that the two of them would've crashed into each other's arms. "You're alive!"

"What happened?" she asks, staring at his leg with wide eyes. "Tui and La, you shouldn't be walking at all."

"I'm fine," says Sokka dismissively, waving her away. "What about you two? Did you handle Azula?"

Zuko glances over his shoulder at his sister, still unconscious. He looks back at Sokka. "Yeah," he says, because there's really nothing else to say. "I screwed up, but Katara saved the battle."

Katara whirls on him, almost sending both of them off balance. "Shut up," she snaps. "Don't you dare say that. You jumped in front of lightning for me. I shouldn't have been standing out there in the first place, but you--"

"Whoa, whoa, what? " Sokka holds up his hands. His eyes go wide as his gaze lands on the charred fabric of Zuko's tunic and at the pink, burned flesh beneath. A queasy sort of look melts over his features. "You jumped in front-- Your sister shot lightning at you?"

Zuko shrugs. "At Katara, not me," he says. "But it's not the first time a family member has done that. Hopefully the last."

"What--"

Then there's a noise in the depths of the warship, effectively stopping the conversation. But judging by the sharp, calculated look on Sokka's face as he turns back around, the kind of look he gets in battle strategy and intense sparring matches, it isn't the end of their talk.

"What about Aang?" asks Zuko. "Toph, Suki?"

"They're inside," says Sokka, jerking his thumb behind him. "They'll be out soon. But they're alive and unharmed, if that's what you're asking. They didn't get struck by lightning or have a broken leg, at least."

"I'm looking at that the moment you sit down," threatens Katara, glaring at him. Sokka flinches back, dramatically flailing his arms at her.

"Geez, okay!"

There's a pause. No one comes out of the warship.

Zuko wonders if Ozai is in there, whether as a body or as a prisoner. He wonders which possibility he would be more comforted by, if either.

"So, did he…" Katara trails off, looking at Sokka, and Zuko knows she's going to voice the same question that he has even before she continues. "Did he do it?"

She doesn't need to elaborate.

Sokka hesitates. He glances over his shoulder, then steps aside. Or hops, as he's still leaning heavily on the makeshift crutch he must've put together in the warship. "It's probably best if you just see for yourself," he says.

Katara exchanges a quizzical look with Zuko. Her arm is still around him. He's grateful for her presence, and he smiles slightly at her. She smiles back, the exhaustion and anxiety clear in her eyes.

As if on cue, Aang emerges from the warship. Katara lets out a strangled cry of relief and joy, but she doesn't let go of Zuko. He's about to say something to her, tell her that she doesn't have to worry about him and should go hug him, but the words already forming in his mouth die immediately as his eyes catch on another movement at the entrance to the warship.

Suki and Toph. The same overwhelming relief floods over Zuko at the sight of their faces, just as it did with everyone else. Their expressions are tired and grim, but alive, mercifully alive . He wants to run up and hug them both, but even if he was the kind of person to initiate things like that, he's not in any shape to be having that kind of full-front physical contact, and he has a feeling Katara would literally murder him if he tried to move.

But they all made it out alive. By some impossible miracle, every single one of them is alive.

Then his eyes land on the limp body Suki's holding by the collar. His heart drops into his stomach. He hears Katara inhale sharply, suddenly, and feels her hand tighten where it rests against his arm.

"Is that…" she begins. And Zuko doesn't even know how to respond, doesn't even know how to feel, because he recognizes that hair, those hands, those arms, those legs, from kneeling at the man's feet, from being hit and burned, from growing up in the palace filled with fear at the sight of the person meant to protect him.

He can feel something building in his throat. He's not sure if it's a scream or a sob or just nothing. And he doesn't get to find out, because then the body lifts its head, and Ozai's gold eyes, the same color as Zuko's, meet his son's unflinchingly.

He's alive.

Zuko feels himself stiffen, unable to look away. His mind is completely blank, the only sound his heart thudding in his ears, slamming against the walls of his ribcage. Somehow, he hadn't pictured this moment during his relentless worrying over the battle.

"He's alive," he says quietly, so quietly that he doesn't know if even Katara can hear him. But she does, and she looks at him with such concern that he almost wants to throw her arm off of him, but he doubts he would be able to balance without her here, and spirits, why can't he just get a hold of himself?

"You--" His eyes go to the ropes tied around Ozai, binding his arms behind his back, and a horrible thrum of panic runs through him. He looks at Suki and Toph in disbelief. "You can't tie him with ropes; he'll burn through them."

His voice is trembling slightly, but he doesn't think anyone else hears. To an outsider's ears, to anyone but himself, he sounds cold, detached.

"Don't worry, Sparky," Toph says, grinning, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes, and all Zuko can think is she's twelve she's twelve she's twelve, and why is she telling him not to worry? "Aang handled it."

"I took his bending away," Aang says, and he sounds slightly nervous, and it occurs to Zuko that he's also twelve; he's the Avatar and he's twelve years old, and this twelve year old found a way around taking a man's life. He's watching Zuko carefully, clearly waiting for a reaction, but Zuko doesn't know if he has one to give. For the first time in years, his mind feels completely devoid of any thoughts, any emotions. He is no longer the raging, angry teenager chasing a legend and his honor; no longer the laughing, innocent child running through the halls of the palace with burn marks hidden beneath his sleeves; no longer the boy kneeling at his father's feet, a scream ripping from his throat, while tears and melted skin drip to the stone floor below. He is all of these things, he is none of these things, and he doesn't know what he is anymore.

"He can't firebend?" he asks, and his voice sounds so far away. He doesn't know how loudly he says it, but Aang nods, so he must've heard.

"Where'd you to do learn that?" asks Katara in wonder.

"A lion turtle, apparently" says Sokka, shaking his head. "I still think that he's lying."

He took his bending away.

Where there used to be nothing, there is now too much, far too much to handle at once. Memories of a strong, firm hand gripping his arm, of a pair of golden eyes burning into his matching pair, come flooding back all at once with the phantom feeling of heat building on his skin. He remembers sneaking into the doctor's room to steal jars of burn cream when his father went too far. He remembers sticking his freshly burned arms into the turtleduck pond when no one was watching once he was sure his father had gone. He remembers that Agni Kai. He remembers, he remembers, he remembers, and now his father's bending is gone.

Zuko shrugs Katara's arm off of him. She starts to say something, but one look from Zuko causes her to fall silent. The anxious look on her face stays, her eyebrows furrowed.

He steps forward a little unsteadily. He approaches Ozai, still uncertain of what he's doing or what his intentions are. Aang is watching with huge eyes, and Zuko momentarily wonders if he thinks that he's going to kill him, wonders if Aang is going to intervene, but he doesn't move. Zuko wonders if he'll stop him if he does.

He shouldn't have to. He's twelve years old. None of this should've happened.

Zuko comes to a stop in front of Ozai, looking down on his kneeling form. A bitter laugh rises in his throat, because it's so stupid how the roles have been reversed so quickly, but the memory of Azula's laughter, wild and uncontrolled and unhinged, everything that she never was, makes him swallow it down.

So he just looks at him. And Ozai looks back.

He wonders if he's thinking the same thing that he is. Is this how his father felt when he stood above his kneeling son as he begged for mercy? He doubts it, somehow.

"Do you regret it?" Zuko finds himself asking. His voice is steady, almost alarmingly so. He sounds too calm for the circumstances, and he can hear Sokka murmur something to Katara behind him, but he ignores them.

"Do I regret what?" sneers Ozai. His voice is raw but somehow retains that familiar regal, scathing quality that Zuko is so used to flinching away from.

But no more.

"Burning me," Zuko says flatly. He's aware, too aware, of everyone listening carefully, of the disbelieving looks he can feel them exchanging, but he can't find the energy to wait for this conversation to happen. He's been waiting for too long, even if he didn't know it. And if his friends guess how he got his scar… Well, they certainly could've found out in less favorable circumstances. "All of those times when I was young. The Agni Kai. Do you regret any of that?"

The question is selfish. But there will be time for selflessness later.

Ozai laughs, and it doesn't sound anything like Azula's. It is cruel, it is calculated, it is measured, and it sounds exactly like the laugh that he let out at the Day of Black Sun. Zuko, in the corner of his eye, can see Suki swap an uncertain glance with Aang, but, still, no one says anything.

Zuko wonders if his father will answer him at all.

"No," says Ozai at last, eyes narrowing, and Zuko hates how much he looks like him, right down to the cut of his cheekbones and the line of his jaw. "You deserved it all. I was teaching you a lesson each of those times, a lesson that you repeatedly failed to learn. A lesson that Azula failed to learn," he adds, lip curling.

"You--" Katara starts forward, but Sokka pulls her back. Zuko doesn't take his eyes off of his father.

"You failed us," he says, and this time, his voice shakes slightly. An image of his sister, screaming and writhing against the chains binding her, flashes across his vision, and it takes everything in him not to run over to her and hug her tightly. "You were supposed to protect us. You were supposed to care for us, love us. You were supposed to act like a father. But you didn't."

"And I don't regret it," snarls Ozai.

Zuko can't say that he didn't expect that. But it hurts nonetheless.

And maybe that's okay.

He spent so long thinking that what his father did to him over the course of his childhood and on that stage was justified. He knows, now, that that couldn't have been further from the truth. But he spent even longer struggling with the fact that he still craves his father's approval, still craves his love, still craves everything that he never gave to him. I t's only now, standing in front of the man himself, that he realizes that that's okay. He might never stop feeling that way. And that's not his fault.

What matters is that he knows that everything Ozai did was wrong, and that, in the end, Zuko made the right choices and will continue to strive to make the right choices. And as long as he knows that, as long as he stays certain in that knowledge, he is safe from his father's manipulation.

And he will do everything in his power to make sure that Azula is safe, too.

Zuko reaches out. His right hand cups his father's face in a gesture bordering on tender, just as his father's had been that day, and it's almost big enough to stretch over the entirety of that side of his face. He feels something clench in his stomach, because there are only three years between that day and today, but his hand is almost big enough, and Ozai's hand was so much larger than his whole face on that day.

He feels his father stiffen beneath his hand.

Zuko isn't even shaking.

He hears someone inhale sharply behind him, hears someone step forward as though to stop him, and he knows that they're all watching, tensed, ready to pull him back if they have to. But that isn't his intention.

"I could do it," he says quietly. It's meant just for his father, but everyone hears it. "I could do it now, and you wouldn't be able to stop me. You're just as defenseless as I was that day."

He looks at Ozai for a moment longer. For a brief, horrible moment, he considers letting his hand erupt into flames, but it only lasts for a heartbeat, and he pushes it down immediately, overwhelmed with disgust.

"You'll rot in a cell far beneath the palace for the rest of your life," he says softly. "You'll never see Agni's light again. And maybe, maybe, you'll regret what you did eventually. To me, to Azula, to mother. To the world."

Zuko releases his father's face and turns away.

"You are no son of mine!" he hears his father shout behind him, because he always has to have the last word, and Zuko feels a small, grim smile twitch on the corner of his lips, because it used to be frightening, but now it's pitiful. "You are a coward, a dishonorable child-- "

"Oh, shut up," snaps Toph. There's a loud thud, and Zuko turns just in time to see Ozai topple over. Suki doesn't move to pick him up. Toph smashes the alarmingly large rock back into the ground. "What a sore loser."

"He's not dead, is he?" asks Sokka, once the dust settles. He waves his hand in the air a few times in an exaggerated motion. "After everything Aang went through to make sure that he didn't die, it'd kind of suck if he died here."

"I'm not so sure about that," mutters Suki.

Suddenly, everyone's looking at Zuko. He would say that he doesn't know why, but… he knows exactly why.

For seemingly no reason, tears start to well up in Zuko's eyes. It's a mixture of relief that his friends are alive, an odd sense of catharsis from his words with his father, and exhaustion, sheer exhaustion, because they just won a war and there's so much left to be done. He quickly blinks them away before anyone can see.

Then, suddenly, Aang runs up to him and practically tackles him into a hug.

Zuko stumbles back, caught off balance from the sudden weight and the pain flaring over his wound, and Katara rushes over to steady him. And then she's hugging him, too, and Zuko's standing there at a complete loss for what to do, because he has two people hugging him, and what is the appropriate reaction to something like that? How are you supposed to hug more than one person at once?

But then Toph is running towards them, and Suki is helping Sokka over, and then all of them are hugging each other, and someone must've fallen at some point because now they're all on the ground, clutching each other like lifelines, and Zuko feels like he's back in the North Pole, floating in the icy water with nothing but a wooden raft to keep everything afloat, and someone starts crying, and Zuko still isn't sure if he was the one to start or not, but then everyone's crying, and it doesn't matter anymore. Zuko has a coronation to deal with, a nation to delicately stitch back together, a sister to coax back to reality, a father to imprison, a mother to find, and a lightning blast shaped like a star burned in the middle of his body to heal.

But that can all wait. The world can wait for just five more minutes. Because they're all here. And they're all alive.

And that's all that matters.

M. M. M. M. M. M. M

A head of shaggy raven hair sits in front of a body of water; a petite turtle-duck perched delicately in hand and golden head piece sitting carefully at his side.

Sokka can't help but notice that the metal sits at his right— and distantly he wonders if Zuko does this intentionally. If he feels, that even after the war has ended, and after Ozai has been imprisoned— that his father still controls part of him.

And maybe, the young water tribe boy thinks, the scar represents something deeper. The war that Zuko fights inside of him.

No, he quickly dismisses the thought, that's too deep for real life.

He takes a few steps forward, lowering himself down onto the ground to Zuko's left side— the firebender doesn't flinch like he would've just a few months ago— and Sokka can't help but wonder if maybe his ally— no, his friend, recognises his presence after all.

"Hey," Sokka greets, eyes trained on the small animal in his hands, reaching up to pet soft yellow fur, "do you remember that time I tackled you at the South Pole?"

Zuko sighs heavily, and Sokka almost feels bad. Almost.

Until a quiet snort fills the silence, and Sokka exchanges a smug grin in return, "yes, Sokka. It's hard to forget the time you cracked two of my ribs."

Sokka coaxes the turtle-duck from Zuko's palms to his own, and Fire Lord just watches the small creature move freely, quacking happily as it moves.

"How long did it take Aang and Katara to realise the persimmons and moon peaches were soaked in wine?" The smile on Sokka's face makes Zuko shake his head in disbelief, shuddering as he speaks again, "remind me to check all of the antique pots and vases tomorrow."

"You're funny when you don't have a stick up your ass, did you know that?" Sokka doesn't look away from the turtle-duck, if anything, he focuses on it more.

It earns a dry look from the former prince, "I always have a stick up my ass. I'm just selectively funny. Actually, I think it's my special trauma cocktail that gives me funny juice."

The retort he receives causes an abrupt laugh to rip from Sokka's throat, effectively scaring the small animal in his palms away. Zuko sighs, laying on his back as he casts his eyes up at the constellations above him.

"Do you ever think about the fact that constellations are man-made?" Pools of golden honey settle on Sokka, who too lies on his back, cerulean irises locked on the the bright lights above them, "the stars created us, and we repaid them by marking them with stories of great warriors."

"Did you steal that from Aang?" He regrets the question as soon as it leaves his lips.

"No, my mom," he murmurs, voice crackling on the edges, "I like to think that she's up there now, you know? Just... waiting for us to come home."

"She is," Zuko's voice is undeniably soft, the type that anyone outside of their group rarely receives.

Sokka squeezes his eyes shut, willing the tears to disappear, "Zuko, you don't have to—"

"Azula always lies," is what Zuko says instead, now nearly as vulnerable as the boy beside him, "I don't."

A few long moments pass, and soon enough the lights and sounds of the party inside begin to fade and everyone reaches their peaks and dips into valleys of socialising.

"Come on," Zuko mumbles, fighting to keep the exhaustion from his voice, "let's go get some of uncle's tea. It always makes me feel better."

"Already ahead of you, nephew," Iroh speaks suddenly to his right, "your friends are inside tumbling around— especially Aang, I think he had a few too many cups of saké tonight."

"Is he riding his air scooter?" Sokka questions, sitting up to accept a cup of the warm drink from the dragon of the west. The older man only grins to himself, before nodding. "Of course he is— we should go stop him."

"After tea," Zuko lightly pats Sokka's shin, "everything is a bit easier after a cup of tea."

And if Zuko sees Iroh's proud smile, he doesn't seem to react with more than a small simper in return.

The next time Sokka finds him, he's not alone. The group, once comprised enemies, but now of friends can't seem to peel their eyes away from the Fire Lord.

His hand is clasped fully over the doorknob to a room, moving every few moments as if getting ready to walk into the room but being stopped by a lock or some unknown force.

Zuko, however, stares at the harsh metal knob hidden beneath warm hands none the wiser to their prying gaze; eventually, his eyes come to a close and he allows his breaths to stabilise.

His forehead greets the door like an old friend, a heavy sigh wracking through his body as he tries to convince himself that he isn't the thing he fears most— that sleeping in the bed that- that vile human had for years won't turn him into something he's not.

He jolts when a warm hand clasps his shoulder, and turns to meet not only Sokka's gaze, but everyone else's as well.

Toph cackles like a witch at the sudden fear that overtakes the young fire bender.

"Sokka," he mumbles, bringing a hand up to smooth his hair back, "what the fuck?"

"Sorry, buddy!" Sokka's voice holds sincerity, but his face shows the amusement he took from scaring the living hell out of him. At once, his eyes lose a bit of light, and he wonders if maybe he's not as alone as he once thought he was, "are you okay? You've kind of been in a trance."

"Yeah it's just... his room," Zuko mumbles, in lieu of an explanation, "I've been in the palace for almost a month, and I've slept in my office or my old room every night. I've never... I've never entered his chamber."

Aang appears suddenly in front of him, a wide beaming grin on his face and just the right amount of clumsiness to tell Zuko the monk is still intoxicated, "Good news! It's not his anymore!"

In a swift motion, the orange clad tween does a partial loop around Zuko, shoving the door open, not long before he leaps onto the bed. He bounces up and down on the golden and red silk sheets that the bed is dressed in.

Sokka watches as the bender's body stiffens at the mere sight placed within his view. His teeth quickly find the soft skin of his inner cheek, and soon he follows his friends in.

They don't see the room like he does, too distracted by the sheer golden canopy above the bed and the rich wine coloured walls framed with ornate detail.

It becomes incredibly apparent that the servants hadn't touched the room since it was cleaned on the day of the comet— the last day his father slept in the bed.

He doesn't process he's moving until he's grasping two photos in either hand— the first of Azula, and the second... is of his mother.

He quickly sets the one of his sister facedown on the nightstand as Aang's incessant bouncing haunts beside him.

"Is that your mom?" When Katara had managed to test her head against his shoulder, he's unsure. Still, he nods, "she's beautiful."

"I know," he croaks, before he sets down the picture frame on hand— this time, upright.

When he turns, Aang is looking longingly at a the closed night stand sitting parallel. His actions follow the airbender's gaze, and soon he's sitting on the side of the bed his mother would have occupied, a golden locket in hand.

When Sokka catches sight of the photo in the locket, he tells everyone he's heading to fine more saké and spiked persimmons.

Zuko can't help but think it's a questionable decision, but Sokka's always been good at making plans, right?

"Zuko?" Aang blurts, as if scared he'll be asleep but too intoxicated to consider the fact that he's yelling.

They're all sprawled out now, Sokka lying beside him inversely, shoes rested on the pillow next to Zuko's— Suki lies at the bottom of the bed sideways, the rest of them sprawled on mounds of throw pillows and blankets.

A soft hum breeches the surface, and Zuko turns his head to find the avatar staring at him with flushed cheeks, "I don't think I've ever seen you drunk. Are you drunk?"

He blinks once, twice— and Zuko shrugs, "I don't think so. I'm not sober quite either."

"Wonderfully tipsy," Sokka yawns, tightening his grip on the blanket.

"Oh. Spirits!" Aang sits upright, gaining the attention he lacked, "am I drunk?"

"Yes," Katara's voice is deadpan, through the smile on her lips gives away that she too, has had a few too many drinks as well.

"Zuko?" Toph asks, and the use of his first name throws him off kilter at first. She continues despite the way his heartbeat quickens, "the nobles were talking about your scar."

The room is silent, and Zuko wonders distantly if they can hear the way his heartbeat roars beneath his now flushed skin, "oh."

"Where is it?" The question startles Zuko an incredible amount, his chest aches and he sits up enough that his head swirls from the blood rushing around.

"It's on my left eye— actually, it goes past it quite a bit," everyone, intoxicated or not, now looks at him, their eyes soft as they do. He rises to his feet, only to sit across from the earth bender, "I— um, if you want to touch it you can, just— yeah."

Toph seems to understand the implied plea to be gentle, and despite how lightly she grazes across the once scarred skin, he flinches, an apology spilling from his lips.

"Don't apologise," she states without hesitation, "you're allowed to feel."

And that simple phrase is certainly a sentiment he never would've expected from her.

But when her eyebrows furrow, and she lays her hand flat upon his face— he knows shes piecing it together in her head, "it's like a handprint."

"Yeah," Zuko manages around a thick swallow, "just like a hand print."

"I heard it was a training accident," Suki now sits, sounding more sober than she ever had before, "what were you supposed to learn?"

"That respect would be taught to me, and that suffering would be my teacher," Sokka pales considerably, cerulean eyes wide as he continues. "My uncle told me that he couldn't watch— but Azula was cheering in the crowd."

"The crowd?" Aang mumbles, "you train in front of crowds?"

"No," Sokka answers before Zuko can figure out how to begin to explain, "you duel in front of crowds."

"Iroh did this?" Toph pulls away suddenly, holding her hand like he'd burned her all over again.

"No! No—" Zuko suddenly finds his voice, "no, my uncle would never hurt me. He's all I have."

The newly crowned Fire Lord's voice cracks, and suddenly they're reminded of how young he is— how young they all are.

"You have us now too," Sokka reassured him, eyes downcast, "and we won't let anything happen to you. You're not him, Zuko. You never will be."

"I know," he cups his eye with his hand, slowly obscuring it from their prying eyes. After a long moment, he drops the hand. "This scar— it's a part of me that I'm proud of. I knew what was right, and when I joined you guys... it just... proved that I had good in me all along."

"When we were in the fire nation, I heard kids talking about the banished prince... did you really try to stop that general from sacrificing the 41st division?" Aang's eyes illuminate with a sadness Zuko had rarely known.

"Yeah," he answers, "Ozai thought I was out of line."

There's a solemn pause that reeks of anguish and teen angst— the moment where they allow themselves to consider that at the end of the day, they're just kids with the weight of the world tested on their shoulders.

"Anyways, I'm allergic to Bumblefly nectar..." he pauses, "Katara, I'm sorry to say it— but that time you made moon-peach cobbler at Ember Island? I let Appa have it."

Katara looks offended, Sokka even more so because he didn't get the piece of extra dessert.

And despite it all, it's the young air nomad who breaks the silence, "For as long as you hunted us and as much as you frown... you're not very good at staying serious, huh?"

Zuko snorts, tossing a couple flecks of quickly fizzling ash at the Avatar, receiving a glare and affronted comment.

But it's Toph who murmurs, "that's why we call him sparky."

And to her credit, Zuko grins.

When Sokka wakes, everyone is sound asleep around him. His limbs are pleasantly heavy, eyes ready to fall again in the name of slumber— and then he realises that the fire bender who he had kicked in the middle of the night over a nightmare has disappeared.

It takes a long moment for Sokka to realise that the terrace door is open, soft golden curtains swaying with the morning breeze.

But when he does, he follows it to find the raven haired boy sitting in the sun— his eyes closed, and legs crossed beneath him.

The young water tribe boy has seen many things, but this? This was rare.

And when he thinks about it— he's not sure he's ever seen Zuko this calm— maybe not even in sleep. He breaths with the wind, and the fire that rests in front of him— and for a moment, Sokka sees the boy that the nobleman was before his life fell apart around him.

As quietly as he can— which is not at all, he trips over a fire lily plant in the corner until he's sitting beside Zuko.

If the latter notices, he refuses to give any indication of it.

A few long moments pass, and sleepy eyes fix on the horizon until his newly found friend shifts beside him.

"Fire benders really do rise with the sun," Zuko hums in soft agreement, "I'm sorry for kicking you in the face. I was fighting rogue mammoth-squids in the Earth King's Palace."

A snort rips from his companies throat— it's perhaps the most ridiculous noise he's ever heard Zuko emit— and he knows that the latter is thinking the exact same thing. His cheeks are flushed and his hand is slapped to his mouth in embarrassment.

It takes everything in Sokka to not drag him to the Spirit world and back for the cacophony he'd been forced to experience right in that moment.

Soon enough, the newly crowned fire lord calms down— resting his head against the wall behind and just as his eyes close he mumbles, "I think it makes you look neat."

Zuko pauses, "the scar?"

"Yeah," Sokka breathes, "the scar. It looks neat. You look like a badass."

"Badass like dropping to my knees and begging for forgiveness?" His voice is dry, and his eyes mist over in a way Sokka hates to see on him.

"Badass like a thirteen year old trying to save the 41st division," Sokka answers, and he can feel the golden gaze that locks onto the side of his face, "badass like someone who came out of an impossible mission with more honour than the people who sent him on it could ever have."

"We don't use the h-word here," Zuko quips dryly, eyes focusing back on the horizon.

Sokka wonders if he doesn't want him to see the gratefulness written on his face— because the more he gets to know Zuko, the more he realises that the guy wears his heart on his sleeve.

"We do now," Sokka breathes, "because you have more than anyone crowned before you."

"Sokka?" Zuko queries after a moment of hesitation, "I'm sorry I sent combustion man after you guys. It would've sucked if he blew you up."

When he glances at his buddy, there's a quiet smile on his face, "it's okay. I'm sorry I made you go in the freezer— it would've sucked if you froze to death."

"Touché, boomerang boy."

M. M. M. M. M. M. M. M

Chit Sang stares after Zuko's retreating figure.

Honestly? Sokka doesn't know what to make of him.

But there's something hard and flinty in his eyes, and Sokka is a little concerned.

"You okay? I mean, I know he's your ex-prince and all but-"

"He's a traitor," Chit Sang hisses, like a pot left boiling. He's angry and it's so clear to Sokka that it hurts. For a second, he almost sees Katara. "A traitor to a line like his father's is welcomed. But the rumors of his mother's? He's betrayed them."

"What?"

"He didn't save them. He knew and he didn't do enough."

And Chit Sang walks away, not even looking back.

Sokka doesn't even think about it too hard. Not while they're fighting to escape, or even when one of his father's men gets close enough to Zuko, up in his face with threats and insults. He's focused on Suki, and his family-

And then that focus needs to break, because Katara is practically hissing at Zuko for helping him and for the first time, he realizes that Zuko just... takes it.

People have insulted him left and right since he joined and he doesn't even take it with this newfound awkwardness like Zuko always has but... he takes it like he's used to it.

But Zuko is a prince, so that's the dumbest idea Sokka has ever had.

Who would dare to hurt a prince?

Suddenly, the angry red scar seems to stand out a little more against the firelight. Sokka isn't quite sure why.

He isn't quite sure why he stares at his sister with a longing, when she's insane and she hurts and destroys-

But he does. And Sokka wonders if Katara had ever hurt him the way Crazy Blue Fire did to Zuko, if he'd still love her that way, if he'd be quite so desperate to get her away from being bad.

Zuko loves his family. He loves their family.

Sokka knows that he's reckless and loyal and a million other things-

Why would he be so willing to kill his father?

Sokka doesn't revisit that question until they're done, and everyone is safe and Lord Evil is dead. But logic and reasoning are not to be ignored. And the question nags and tears at his mind until he can't control it.

He needs to know. Who hurt Zuko? What was it, that he reassured himself was wrong and undeserved?

They're at a meeting, a reunion, really.

Fire Lord Zuko had to clean out a rebellion, and he'd insisted on doing it alone. They hadn't even heard until Ozai was a corpse and Azula was in critical condition, possibly to never wake up.

He was the only one of the group who'd fought two wars, but he still lets Toph climb him like the lemur she is and gets embarrassed by compliments.

Sokka just wishes he'd been there. Zuko is like a boomerang, the wood forged weapon. Chipped and stripped of his edges, destroyed to make a destroyer.

But unlike a boomerang, he cut himself out of the system. And hurt himself, badly. How can someone with so much loyalty and love to give get injured, have a sister try to kill him, know people could celebrate his death?

"The scar is on the wrong side," Zuko laughed at old wanted posters and set them inside the royal portrait hall. What kind of family forgets where shit like that is?

He can't claim to understand any of this. A part of him wants to ask.

Another part, tired of the confrontation and trauma, wants to forget that Zuko is chipped wood. Or, well... burnt. That part wants to dig on its own.

Considering that part tends to be his tactful side, maybe that's what he needs to do.

He gets his first piece of information when Zuko actually attends a military memorial. Given the way the others watch, confused, they've also had their questions.

Zuko has never been comfortable publicly honoring soldiers who fought in a war that built on genocide. But for these ones, he organized it. Toph tilts her head towards him, unseeing but unnecessary eyes blinking slowly.

"Why would Sparky set this one up?"

"I dunno," Aang shrugged. "I mean people on the fire nation side lost their lives too. That's a loss, to someone somewhere."

"Right, the painful in betweens of a war. You disregard each other's humanity in the battlefield if you are to keep your own." Suki solemnly says, gaping at the young faces of the so-called 41st.

"They were just kids. How did they end up like this?" Aang looks at them mournfully. "Maybe we could have been friends."

"Weren't we all that?" Katara asks with a bitter sort of laugh. "We were alljust kids."

"I'm not surprised, he's finally set this one up," Suki shrugs. "I hated them but they really were just trying to be good citizens."

"Proof he's stronger than what his father was," Toph murmurs. "And what he'd done."

"What?"

"You guys didn't know? Snoozles, that shit was everywhere," Toph's expression dips to unamused. Well, clearly not everywhere if they hadn't heard it.

"What?"

"Who hadn't heard it? The horror story of the royal family? Mom and grandpa mysteriously die the same night and three years later the son gets banished with a brand new scar? What family wouldn't whisper about that and hug their kids a little tighter?"

Suki looks at Toph, horrified.

"No! Maybe nobility did- but we-no-"

"Hisfathergave him that scar?" Aang sounds horribly small.

"He literally said that Sparky couldn't go home til he captured you. Several years before you even appeared," Toph tilts her head, confused. "You said he told you. The whole honor thing?"

Sokka is going to throw up.

Katara clenches her hands so hard that the water in a bowl turns to ice, causing several nearby people to shriek in fear. When they were younger, Aang at the level of unadulterated rage splayed across his normally cheerful features would have long been in avatar state.

"So you know that much," a cold voice behind them states. Sokka is enough of a man to admit to the unholy screech he let out.

It's Mai, looking more gloomy than usual.

"It's not like it was a secret," Toph says, almost analytical.

"No," Mai says, staring at the portraits. She looks into the eyes of a girl. She's smiling widely, front tooth chipped, and the name beneath her image reads Homura. A bright flame, snuffed.

Sokka shouldn't feel guilty. But a small piece of him does. They were brainwashed and tricked into this.

And now they're dead.

"I suppose it isn't, huh," Ty Lee adds, hair out of its usual braid. The severe bun ages their bright friend. She, too, is dressed darkly. She picks up a stick of incense that was about to burn out, bringing it closer to the fire.

In the other room, Sokka can see Zuko talking to mothers and fathers, consoling them.

In that group, he sees Chit Sang.

He decides not to pry.

Zuko finally does tell them, months later.

"I... was thirteen. And I wanted to go to a war meeting-"

And oh-

He'd wanted to impress his father and be a good leader and he was just a child and it was wrong-

They don't say they knew because they really don't know. They don't know that aching disappointment feels like. What it means to have a parent who would hurt you when you wereon your kneesandbegging-

Zuko gets cut off by a choking sound. It's his own. It's because he's covered in a tangle of SokkaandTophandAangandKataraandSuki. And they know that they're hugging him because damn it-

They're his family now, and they're never letting him down like that.