Take One

"...Uncle. I-it's me. Not that you really need me to clarify that, but-augh!"

Take Two

"Uncle. I know…you probably don't want to see me. I don't blame you. I wouldn't want to see me either-no, stop making this about you and what you feel, that doesn't matter!"

Take Ten

"Uncle. I know you probably weren't expecting to see me ever again, and I won't blame you if you don't want to see me after this. I just wanted to tell you that…you were right about my Father. And Azula. And basically everything, and I should have listened to you from the beginning, I just thought-I know, I know, I shouldn't be making excuses. There is no acceptable excuse for how I behaved, I just want-"

…Take Thirty-Five

"Uncle…I'm sorry. I know I don't deserve forgiveness, or-or anything else, but I'm sorry. If it helps, I've joined the Avatar and started teaching him fire-bending-do you really think that's going to make up for anything you did to him?!"

A groan, a hand dragged down the side of his face.

"...Why is this so much harder than when I was preparing to talk to a group of kids?"

"Probably because you'd never actually been on their side before, so they'd never had a reason to be hurt when you stabbed them in the back."

Another groan. "I know."

"...Unless you count that time when you all were working together to fight Azula. Or when the Water Tribe girl offered to try to heal your scar."

"Those didn't count! We weren't actually friends or anything, none of them cared about me-!"

"Um, Zuko?"

With a sound he would absolutely forever deny sounded like anything resembling a yelp, Zuko whirled around, shoving Uncle's painting under his pillow.

"What?!"

Sokka (how long had he been standing there?!) took a quick step back out of firebending range, looking a little bit like a possum-deer in torchlight.

"Nothing! Just-it sounded like you were yelling at someone, and it couldn't be Aang because he's training with Toph, or Katara because she's with Dad, and they were the most likely candidates so I wanted to see who else you could be yelling at."

Zuko forced himself to take a deep breath, in through the nose, out through the mouth (just like Uncle was always telling him to). "...Sorry. I was just…talking to myself. I'm fine."

Oh, great; Sokka was giving him one of those "I can tell something funny's going on here so now I'm going to study you until I figure out what" looks.

Zuko glared back, hoping (against hope) that he would take the hint and go away.

But, because everyone in this group seemed to have a selective capacity for self-preservation at best, instead he stepped back into the doorway of the room, giving Zuko another thoughtful look.

Zuko's fists clenched against his legs; he was working on not letting his bending be ruled by his temper anymore, and, y'know, in general trying to be a better person, but if his (maybe sort-of) friend started asking any probing questions surely he'd be excused for breathing a little steam at him. Nothing that would hurt him, obviously, since that would probably give Katara that excuse to kill him she'd been waiting for, but-

"I got an extra bag of fire flakes in my stuff. You want them?"

Zuko blinked.

"You've been in here all afternoon. You missed lunch."

…Oh. Maybe his stomach wasn't just cramping up from nerves and guilt and general frustration at his inability to make words work properly.

Zuko glanced one more time at the corner of Uncle's picture, then sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"...Yeah."

After taking a snack break, Zuko resumes trying to figure out an apology for his uncle.

He is still unsuccessful, but at least he's taken a moment for proper self care.