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iriswords · 1 year

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Febuwhump Day 8 - Panic

You can also read this on ao3 and find the rest of my febuwhump fics here

tw: panic attack, ptsd, references to past child abuse, fear of abuse

Fandom: Avatar the last airbender

Words: 1869

Panic has been a constant in Zuko's life for a very, very long time. Like a wave, it comes and goes.

Zuko is used to not feeling safe. He is used to living with the constant dread that something bad will happen to him, that someone will get angry and punish him, that he will make a mistake and sourly regret it. From the moment he understands his father will not hesitate to hurt him, the palace stops being a safe place. Anxiety drums in Zuko’s chest at all times, and he watches for his movements and words, for the shadow of his father over his shoulder.

It does not stop him from being burned and banished.

He lives in fear on the Wani, too. Fear of his uncle, at first, of what he may do to Zuko if Zuko isn’t obedient enough, if Zuko’s words are too harsh or hurtful. Zuko yells and yells and cowers in fear every time. He stomps away and waits, bristling with terror, for angry steps coming his way, for threats of punishment and hurt. They do not come. Eventually, the fear recedes. But, like a wave, it is never entirely gone.

It spikes whenever he meets Zhao. It spikes whenever his uncle receives news from the palace. It spikes when he does something overly stupid that his father would have killed him for.

His uncle never hurts him. Never gets angry at him. Never threatens him. When they flee the North Pole and become traitors to the Fire Nation, Zuko’s fear has receded so far in him he could almost believe it is gone entirely.

It remains so until Zuko betrays his uncle in Ba Sing Se. Zuko is back at the palace and fear is a constant in his mind. His breath is always shaky, dread coiled tight in his guts, waiting for the pain and the anger to come and swallow him whole.

He does not dare visit his uncle, no matter how much he longs to. For three years, Iroh has been nothing but a source of comfort for Zuko. Now, panic surges in him every time he thinks of going to his cell and talking to him. He knows his uncle has no patience left for him, no kind words, no reassurance. Zuko betrayed him. He broke his trust, shattered it, even, and he does not deserve his uncle’s gentleness.

He makes the mistake of panicking in front of his father exactly once. A hand coming too close to his face throws him into a pathetic spiral of broken apologies and pleas for mercy.

He does not make that mistake again. The burn on his arm, a finger-shaped circle, heals in a matter of weeks. If Zuko focuses hard enough, he can still feel the searing pain and heat enclosing his arm. It reminds him too much of another burn. This one he still bears the scar of.

He is strangely calm when he confronts his father, panic pushed to the back of his mind. He has spiraled enough times, alone in his room, as he worked out the details of his plan, and now the fear has receded to leave in its place calm determination. There are only two outcomes to this: success, or failure. Failure cannot bring more pain than Zuko was bound to endure when his father would have discovered the Avatar was still alive, anyway.

He confronts Ozai, redirects his lightning. He breaks down later, once he is far away from the palace, his hands shaking and his breath so shallow he nearly passes out.

He does not feel safer with the Avatar and his companions. Aang and the young earthbender are kind to him, though perhaps ‘kind’ is not the right word to describe Toph’s behavior. He knows they won’t hurt him unless he threatens them.

The Water tribe siblings are different. They are dangerous, and he knows they don’t like or trust him. The girl, Katara, is the worst of the two. He deserves it, but his heart hammers in his chest when she threatens him. She is more terrifying than she probably knows.

He masks his fear. It is a vulnerability far too easy to exploit, and he does not feel safe enough to expose it to them. He stomps, and grumbles, and asserts discipline during Aang’s training. He scowls and pretends to be confident and at ease. Inside, he is terrified. He holds back his flinches every time one of them moves too quickly or suddenly. He freezes when Katara talks to him, waiting for the blow to come, for the patience and the kindness to cease. If they notice, none of them say anything.

He sleeps away from them, in his own room, where he can have nightmares and panic in the dead of the night without bothering anyone. He wishes, sometimes, when he wakes up choking on his sobs, that someone were there with him to comfort him. But he knows he does not deserve this kindness, not after everything he has done, and he doesn’t think anyone but Aang would be willing to offer it to him. (Aang is too kind for his own good. Zuko dreads the day his heart will be broken by this cruel, cruel world.)

At the Boiling Rock, Zuko’s constant anxiety stops, pushed away by his focus on the mission. His confidence is not fake, for once, but his mind catalogs everything that will nourish his anxiety later. He notices Hakoda’s height, the size of his hands, and the fierceness of his expression. He is not a man to be messed with. He is a leader, ready to do whatever it will take to protect his people. People Zuko has hurt.

He searches Sokka for signs of fear. A flinch, as tiny and suppressed as it may be, stiffened posture, muscles tense with apprehension. He does not find any of that.

It does not matter, in the end, that Hakoda does not hurt his children. Because Zuko is not Hakoda’s child, because Zuko is Fire Nation, because Zuko has hurt the people Hakoda is supposed to protect and care for.

He stays as far away from the man as he can and does not interact with him unless he is forced to. Fear, terror even, grows and grows in his chest, until it is all-encompassing and Zuko barely remembers what it is to breathe freely, without this suffocating weight on his chest.

One evening, as Zuko is passing around cups of tea Katara made—because Zuko apparently has no tea-making talent, something he was very sad to find out—when Hakoda reaches for a cup on the wooden tray. Were Zuko a normal and functional person, he wouldn’t have reacted. He would have let the man take his cup and would have moved on to the next person. But Zuko is not a functional person, and Ozai has made sure he understood at least that, if nothing else. All he sees, is a hand coming towards him, as large as Ozai’s, thickened and hardened by labor.

Zuko recoils back and brings his hand in front of his face to protect it from the blow. The tray clatters to the ground, the cups shattering. And the blow does not come. Zuko’s ears are ringing, and his heart is beating so fast and so loudly he is certain Toph isn’t the only one who can hear it. All the terror that has grown in his chest for the past weeks explodes all at once when he realizes what he has done.

He means to run away, to hide in a corner of the temple until his panic passes, but his feet refuse to move. His knees buckled underneath him, and shouts echo around him. He flinches away from them and curls up on himself as well as he can. Tears stream down his face, and his father will be angry, so angry that Zuko is showing such weakness. But he cannot calm down. There is too much noise around him, and he made a mistake. Punishment is bound to come, but Zuko is so tired of hurting.

A hand touches his shoulder. He chokes on a whimper. The hand retreats and silence falls around Zuko. Something is wrong. The pain he was expecting does not come. He realizes, then, that he is not in Caldera, and that his father cannot hurt him anymore.

Hakoda is crouching in front of him, brows furrowed in what seems to be worry. (Except it does not make sense, for him to be worried about Zuko.) Chit Sang’s face bears so much sorrow Zuko would think someone had died. The rest of the kids are all scattered around the fire, staring at him wide-eyed, their faces bearing various kinds of worry and sadness.

Zuko throws himself on his knees before Hakoda and bows until his forehead touches the floor. Tears are still rolling from his eyes, and he cannot get them to stop. He dreads the punishment to come, but it is easier to accept it and move on than it is to resist. Resistance brings greater pain.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes to Hakoda. “I meant no disrespect. I do not—”

“Kid,” interrupts Hakoda gently. Zuko tenses up. What will Hakoda do? What will his chosen punishment be? He has no fire, but perhaps it makes his punishments more ruthless. “Zuko, it’s alright. You don’t have to apologize for panicking. You can’t control this.” Zuko knows he can’t control it. It has never stopped Ozai from being angry at him for being afraid.

“I will accept whatever punishment you see fit,” he whispers.

Silence is the only reply. Did Zuko somehow offend the man? Did he mess up again? Is he bound to fail again and again and again in everything he does?

“Please, look at me, Zuko,” asks Hakoda. Zuko obeys, his entire body trembling with a terror he cannot mask. Bundled in Sokka’s arms, Aang shakes with quiet sobs. Zuko caused this. “I will not punish you,” says Hakoda. Zuko wants to believe him. He wants the fear to cease, wants to feel safe, wants to stop waking up at night screaming from memories he’d rather burn.

“Why not?” he asks. Some distant part of him understands. That not everyone is like Ozai or Azula, that some people are like Uncle and Mother. But he hasn’t had that in so long, hasn’t let himself have it. He doesn’t think he deserves it.

Hakoda makes a wounded noise in the back of his throat. The children around the fire all look near tears.

“Because nothing you did warrants punishment. And nothing you could ever do warrants brutal punishment. Pain in whatever form is never punishment.” He adds, softer. “Pain as punishment is abuse, Zuko.”

Zuko crumbles, collapses on himself. All the terror he has felt for years comes down all at once, not quite gone but suddenly deflated. This time, he doesn’t flinch away when Hakoda touches his shoulder. He doesn’t resist when the man pulls him to his chest, and no terror rises in his chest.

He does not yet feel safe. It is too soon for that; his mind is still too poisoned by the hurt his father inflicted upon him. But it will come one day.

@febuwhump

#my writing #creative writing #fanfic #fanfiction #whump #febuwhump2023 #febuwhumpday8 #panic attacks #ptsd #atla #avatar the last airbender #zuko #hurt zuko

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sulkybender · 1 year

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“Druk doesn't like me,” Sokka says.

Zuko laughs, surprised.

“What are you talking about?”

“He doesn’t,” Sokka insists. “He gets all weird around me!”

“So do I,” Zuko points out.

There’s an awkward silence.

“Wait,” Sokka says. “Druk has a crush on me?”

Zuko drags his hands through his hair, looking flustered.

“I mean,” he croaks, “it's not like he wants to—”

“Let's not think about that,” Sokka suggests hastily.

I live in a cage and I can take you there

#zuko #ao3 #sokka #zukka #zukka fanfic #atla fanfic #hurt/comfort #hurt zuko #I live in a cage and I can take you there #atla #druk #druuuuuuk

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emachinescat · 2 years

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@whumptober No. 6 PROOF OF LIFE

Ransom Video | “I’ve got a pulse” | Screams from Across the Hall

Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender

Title: Phoenix Heart

Whumpee: Zuko

Summary: "Something deep inside of the former general broke then, something that looking after his nephew had slowly begun to knit whole in the time since his son’s death. And now before him lay the little boy he had watched grow up, who had looked up to his strong, brave cousin Lu Ten and fought with his sister, who had never been enough for his father while always striving so hard to be everything that the man told him he should be. Smoke trailed from a scorched hole in Zuko’s tunic, and his lips were blue, and he had no pulse."

AU of "The Chase," where Azula strikes Zuko with lightning instead of Iroh, with even direr consequences for the banished prince. Thankfully, Team Avatar is willing to set aside their differences to try to save their fallen enemy. No character death!

CW: Near death experiences, resuscitation, electrocution

Word Count: 1,762

@whumptober-archive

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goldenavenger02 · 1 year

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troubled water running cold

So I kinda got confused while writing this and noticed in my rewatch of this episode that Zuko does not fall during the fight with Azula. That being said, I'm very sick and I don't care to change the plot, so...take it as a creative liberty.

And now, on with the story!

Zuko knew as soon as he had slipped during his fight atop the trolley against his sister and his left side had hit the metal roof hard that his ribs were broken.

Even if he couldn't feel anything but a mild twinge every time he inhaled as they made their way back to the Western Air Temple, he knew. He had become used to such injuries between how rough Azula was when they would fight as children and his fights against Aang and the others.

How he could never really get a full breath in without doubling over, how blood would coat his tongue and stain his teeth when he coughed if he overexerted himself, how he had to keep perfect posture when his chest was bound tightly so they healed correctly. It was practically routine at this point in his life.

Sure enough, after the joyful reunion between Katara, Sokka and Hakoda and the group made their way inside, Zuko felt the familiar spike of pain from the left side of his chest into his nerves that could only be his ribs. He couldn't stop from doubling over in the courtyard as his right hand gripped his left side and he gritted his teeth till the pain slowed with only Appa as a witness.

When the pain subsided, he stood up slowly, his right hand still against his left side; he considered going to Katara for a brief moment, but he stopped himself just as quickly. Even though he helped Sokka save Hakoda and Suki, that didn't mean that everything between him and Katara was okay, not that it should be.

He knew that he had betrayed her many times, that if he so much looked at Aang the wrong way that she was ready to kill him, and he couldn't even blame her. He knew that like always, he had to deal with this on his own because of his own mistakes.

So he removed his hand from his left side, letting it dangle loosely as he walked at a slow pace towards his room so he could mend his wounds in peace without worrying the others or worse, angering Katara.

He could hear the lively discussion coming from the main room, it sounded like Toph and Katara were poking at each other with their comments, so he knew that he wouldn't miss much and no one would be too shocked if he went to his room early. But even in the near silent hallway, a voice hit his ears that made his body stiffen and stopped him from walking instantly.

"You know, for being a crown prince, you have a very readable face."

He knew it was Hakoda even before he turned around, but the tone had been one he had been on the receiving end of from his uncle Iroh. Stern enough to get his attention, but the scolding was light enough to not send him into fight or flight mode.

"I was a pretty lousy crown prince. Sokka and Katara will tell you all about it."

"I'm sure they would, but that's not why I stopped you. Are you injured?" Before Zuko could come up with any excuse or lie to wave the man's concern away, Hakoda added, "I saw you from my window in the courtyard."

And Zuko knew that he was cornered by the man with no escape or excuse to give, so he just let out a long sigh that had the repercussion of a strong surge of agony up into his arm before asking, "you won't tell Katara, right?"

"She could heal you. Her water bending doesn't heal bones, but it would help some of those internal injuries."

"She doesn't trust me, she thinks I'm going to backstab them again and bring Aang to my father. She threatened my life if I stepped out of line."

The hallway went eerily silent except for the light wheeze from Zuko's lungs when he exhaled after he explained his reasoning and he winced as soon as he realized that he had just told Katara's father what she had said to him, but there was no taking it back now.

"Why don't you head to your room," Hakoda spoke at last, resting a soft hand on Zuko's right shoulder for a brief moment, "and I'll get some supplies, see what I can do. I may not be a healer, but I've had my share of war wounds."

Zuko knew that his other option was enlisting Katara, so he agreed and turned back to his room, his hand now resting on his ribs once again as he slowly sat down on the stone bed and forced himself to wait patiently as his chest throbbed.

He was used to cleaning and mending his own wounds. Especially after his banishment, he refused to let anyone help him with the exception of his uncle tending to his burned face in the very early days of his hunt for the Avatar. Despite how much he had changed, he couldn't shake the mindset of having to care for himself away.

Zuko was pulled out of his thoughts by Hakoda's return, looking up to see the man's face was calm and collected as he seemingly inventoried the medical supplies on the small shelf next to his bed before he finally returned the eye contact.

"Do you need help with your shirt?"

It only hit him now that he was still wearing the paper thin prison uniform, but he shook his head and pulled the orange shirt off, wincing when it brushed against his chest and again when he raised his left arm to free it before depositing it onto the floor and laying back on the stone bed.

His forehead was slick with sweat from the struggle and his chest ached painfully with every shallow breath he was able to take. Hakoda hadn't even started to prod at his ribs yet but Zuko already knew that this was a particularly bad blow that he had taken, maybe one of the worst ones at that.

Sure enough, after Hakoda maneuvered the lantern so that his injury was in the light and Zuko felt light but painful fingers grazing his side, he could swear that he heard the man mumble just under his breath, "this is not good."

But he didn't say that to his face. He worked quietly and quickly, not saying a single word as he applied a cooling salve to numb the pain before beginning to wrap his chest tightly. Zuko was okay with Hakoda being quiet as he worked. It meant that he could try his best to ignore the twinges and stare at the stone ceiling instead.

Until he had to sit up so the bandages could be wrapped around his back and that's when Hakoda spoke up, his voice sounding choked slightly, like he had been crying.

"Zuko? Have you broken your ribs before?"

"Why?"

"Your chest is nearly caved in on the left side." He told him as he finished wrapping the bandages.

"Azula played rough, my banishment played harder." Zuko spoke, keeping his voice as emotionless as possible in order to keep his tears to himself. There would be plenty of time for him to do that when Hakoda wasn't looking.

"Zuko, this could be deadly, " Hakoda stopped to stand from where he had been kneeling to tend to Zuko, "I'm going to talk to Katara."

"But-"

"I'll also get her to back down on her threats, at least while you're recovering."

And with that, the man was gone and his door was shut again, leaving the firebender alone in the silence and with his aching chest. So he did the only thing he could do. He pulled his blanket over himself, the movement making his chest ache, before he closed his eyes and forced himself into a restless sleep.

…

He couldn't have been asleep for that long when he felt the blanket being slowly tugged down, followed by the removal of the bandages which were slowly pulled off of his skin so they didn't pull too hard on any of his skin.

"You're right, dad," Katara's voice was unmistakably hers as the familiar sloshing sound of her water bending hit his ears, "this is really bad."

"I know it's a lot, and that you don't trust him, but I don't think it will benefit either side if he dies. He is wanted by the Fire Lord after all and I don't think he'll welcome back his son with open arms."

Zuko cringed at the mention of his father as the sloshing continued, but kept it internal. It was probably for the best if they assumed that he was asleep.

"I don't trust him. That doesn't mean that I'm not going to heal him, especially because he's helping Aang and helped Sokka bring you and Suki back to us."

"Good girl," Hakoda's voice was soft and gentle, "but I think that you should start looking inward as well for a way to forgive Zuko."

"How can I when he tried to kill us? When he tried to kidnap Aang? How can I forgive someone who has betrayed me before?"

"By letting yourself accept what has happened and accept that he is not the same person that he was a year ago. None of us are."

Katara didn't speak again after Hakoda's words. Instead, she bent the water into Zuko's chest and slowly started to heal the years of internal injuries he had received from fighting them and training against Azula.

The tugs and pulls of the cold water, no matter how gentle, made his ribs twinge painfully but he managed to keep his eyes closed, even if that meant that he was biting the inside of his cheek at the same time. He didn't know whether it was the healing itself or the cold water that hurt more.

He had nearly lost consciousness a few times when the cold hit a particularly sensitive area, but he managed to cling tightly to being awake until finally, the water subsided with another slosh and for the first time in a long time, he could breathe just a little bit clearer then when he had broken his ribs in the past.

He stayed limp in Katara's arms as Hakoda wrapped fresh bandages around his chest, his face planted firmly against her shoulder. Even though she hadn't been with the water tribe in a long time, her hair still smelled like sea water; he hoped that he didn't smell like burning garbage.

Before he could ponder on the smell any longer, he was slowly lowered back down where he had been laying and felt an extra pillow propping him up as Katara's footsteps stormed away.

But Hakoda stayed to lay the blanket over his body and to push his sweaty hair off of his forehead before leaving the room and letting the door shut behind him with a soft click.

Zuko couldn't be more grateful as to where he had ended up.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #atla #hakoda #katara #zuko #whump #hurt/comfort #angst #found family #angry katara #hurt zuko #post The Boiling Rock

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blackcatsnstrawberries · 2 years

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I've been getting back into writing lately, starting with FanFiction and slowly working on my own original fiction ideas. My stories all invlove whump and hurt/comfort aspects

Fan Fiction:

1) Fazed and Confused: Nightwing and Young Justice fiction

2) Rise with the Sun: Avatar the last Airbender, Zuko fiction.

3) Even Blue Spirits Need Help: Avatar the Last Airbender (one shot)

4) Darkest Night: Nightwing whump, featuring more Batfam.

5) A Court of Shadows and Beauty: A series of one shots and extensions featuring ACOTAR's Azriel, and has Pro Elriel elements.

6) A Court of Chains and Secrets: A Pro Elriel story from the ACOTAR universe.

#fan fiction whump #fanfiction #writers of ao3 #ao3 #whump #hurt/comfort #nightwing fanfiction #young justice #nightwing needs a hug #hurt zuko #fantasy romance #avatar the last airbender #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #sjm multiverse #acotar fanfiction #acotar #sjm universe

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gascreates · 6 months

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this is the only relationship that matters actually.

#shipping wars solved #atla #zuko #momo #me: im gonna do a short lil doodle! so i can feel like ive finished something!#me 12 hours later:#my hand hurts #this is not a short little doodle #fucking. why did i keep going

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emkini · 1 year

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I think about Zuko and Ursa a normal amount

#atla #avatar #avatar the last airbender #zuko #ursa #atla fanart #em draws #illustration #I had heart of stone from SIX playing on loop while drawing both of these #because I enjoy hurting myself #I am on a fucking roll right now apparently #cannot go five seconds without drawing something #the stuff I've been posting is so incredibly self-indulgent but y'know what. I do not care #normally i'd have a modicum of shame but nope #if I want Zuko to look sad in his mom's robes then that's what he's going to do <3 #privileges of being an artist #yes it's 4:30 in the morning shut up #id in alt text #edit I fixed his wack ass face

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muffinlance · 2 months

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Do you get the impression the live action is treating us like utter morons?? Like I thought that making it aimed at an older audience would open the doors for more subtle story telling, but no, they're just using monologues to tell us eveything! Like in the second episode Katara's like 'oh his power isn't that he's the avatar, it's that he ~connects~ to people'. Girl we're not idiots we can see that!! And the first episode with Aang's goddawful 'I don't want this responsibility' monologue

THIS, YES. The word that keeps coming to mind is definitely "subtlety". The show for literal children? Had it. The remake for adults? Not so much.

#This is literally Storytelling 101: Show Don't Tell #I'm sorry scriptwriters I know you were working before your union won minimal staffing in writers' rooms and decent pay and all that #but You Know What You Did #Also cgi artists plz unionize #A few more hours on Momo would have maybe taken him further out of the nightmare monkey puppet category #I know some people are reporting him as cute #But all I can see is a creature from the Magnus Archives #that thing is the skin of Momo being worn by something that doesn't quite move right underneath #And maybe it is looking for a better fit #Don't let it touch you adorable child actor Aang #avatar the last airbender #atla #natla #Anyone looking to block the live action posts I'll be tagging all of these with that natla tag going forward #But yeah not going to post about it much #I came I saw I deemed it not worth the hours of my life it asked #I can literally write a better Avatar AU than this #Anyway back to Toph beating up Blind Zuko!#*write write write"#(their big budget fanfic can't hurt me it can only introduce more fans to the original)

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fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma · 6 months

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something something making an item of betrothal in ur bfs culture

#zukka #zuko x sokka #zukka fanart #atla #atla fanart #I have this idea that Zuko goes to Katara like:#hey I wanna marry ur brother but idk dogsht abt how to make a betrothal necklace help pls #and Sokka goes to Iroh like:#heyyy my good boyfriends uncle #wonderful day we’re having #I wanna propose to ur nephew n ur basically god so can u pls help me make a headpiece #anyways mutual zukka proposals My beloveds #(ik it’s divorced zukka time but aidays is gonna hurt me so I need some fluff before that)

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favlie · 17 days

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I'm rewatchig atla again and, as expected, i'm full of zutara feelings. Forever hopeful that this time they will be canon. ♥ -- Please do not repost/use without asking first! ♥

#my art #zutara #i love them #i love them so much it hurts #zuko #katara #atla #sheu should have been your honor #it IS whatmakes sense!!!!#yinand yang! the sun and moon!!! she has evil inside of her and he has goodness inside of him!!! opposites1!!! they complete each other!!!!#GAH #im in pain #and going through a zk mania episode again #lords save me ToT

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petricorah · 10 months

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maybe it's a metaphor. maybe it's not. you can decide (wip) [id in alt]

#zukka #zukka fanart #zuko #sokka #anyway.#mywips #sketchiest wip ever im. sleepyl #divorced zukka #maybe zukos pushing the sword away. maybe hes bringing it closer. maybe he knows loving sokka means hell get hurt but he cant stop himself

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iriswords · 1 year

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Febuwhump Day 16 - Semi-conscious

You can also read this on ao3 and find the rest of my febuwhump fics here

tw: blood and injuries

Fandom: Avatar the last airbender

Words: 1613

As they escape the Boiling Rock prison, Zuko gets injured during his fight against Azula. He decides that not telling anyone about it is the right way to act, and is quickly proven wrong.

As always, things go relatively well until Azula shows up.

“Wait. Who’s that?” asks Hakoda, and Zuko’s heart freezes in his chest when he sees who the man is talking about. Of course she would come. Coincidence or not, Azula has always been good at finding herself precisely at the right place to make things difficult for Zuko. But this time, he won’t let her win.

“That’s a problem,” he answers. “It’s my sister and her friend.”

Azula and Ty Lee are as graceful and efficient as ever as they make their way onto the thick metal cables and toward the gondola. Zuko watches them with resigned determination, his blood pulsing forcefully in his temple.

“This is a rematch I’ve been waiting for,” says Suki, and Zuko can only sympathize with her.

“Me too,” he replies and thinks of all the times in the past when Azula beat him up just to be cruel. Of all the times she lied and tricked him. Of all the times she cackled while their father punished Zuko. And then, inevitably, he thinks of all the times she had no choice. Of all the cracks in her mask. Of the girl beneath the armor. As cruel and vicious as she is, as cruel and vicious as she has been made, this girl is still his sister. He will not harm her but he knows the opposite is not true. Azula will be aiming to kill, today. He wonders if she would let herself mourn his death, or if she would bury it like she does all her emotions.

Suki and Zuko haul themselves up on the gondola’s roof, soon joined by Sokka. For an instant, Zuko wants to yell at the two others that this is not their fight, that it is too dangerous for them. But it is as much their fight as it is his, and he is not so delusional as to think he can beat both Azula and Ty Lee on his own.

Azula lands on the gondola’s roof, and Zuko braces himself for confrontation. A strange calm washes over him. Whatever happens now is up to himself and his skills. To who he is and who he chooses to be. The dragon’s dance flashes before his eyes.

The fight starts well enough. He and Sokka make a fine pair, understanding each other without a word, and watching for the other’s weaknesses. Azula is strong enough for it to be a match, but they have not lost yet. Zuko’s fire is certain and steady, a worthy opponent to Azula’s.

It lasts until Azula takes out blades, short and sharp. The surprise makes Zuko pause. His sister has only ever used her fire to fight, an adept of the bending superiority their father swears by. The blades throw the fight off balance. Azula is wickedly good with them, as she is in everything she does, and Zuko has no blades of his own to counter them with. He can only dodge and deflect with his fire. Sokka’s blade is also a hindrance, too long for Azula’s daggers.

Zuko tries to keep his sister at bay for as long as he can, playing with his fire and forcing her to respond with hers instead of with the blades. But the warden’s scream to cut the line draws his focus elsewhere. He does not notice the way Azula lunges, her daggers drawn out and ready to strike.

The silvery blade tears through flesh as easily as if it were butter. Zuko doesn’t make a sound as piercing pain reverberates through him. Blood wells up as soon as Azula takes the blade away, her movement quick. The dagger shines with fresh blood. At the same moment, the gondola skids to an abrupt stop, throwing Zuko off balance. He rights himself at the last moment, pain shooting from his wound, but Sokka is not so lucky and slides off the gondola toward the boiling lake.

It is only Zuko’s quick reflexes, honed by years of relentless practice and the moment’s adrenaline, that allow him to catch the other boy’s hand before he falls off.

“She stabbed you,” says Sokka as Zuko hauls him back up on the gondola’s roof.

“It’s only a graze,” lies Zuko, even as his side throbs viciously. He is suddenly immensely glad for the intense red of the tunic that masks the fresh blood soaking it.

He isn’t certain how long it will last, but for now, it masks his injury efficiently enough.

“They’re about to cut the line!” screams Ty Lee, and Zuko’s heart and hopes plummet.

“Then it’s time to leave,” replies Azula, and propels herself off the gondola’s roof. “Goodbye Zuko.”

Zuko watches, slightly stunned and refraining from holding his injured side, as she and Ty Lee get away on another gondola. His brain is working solely on adrenaline at the moment, and even that is seeping away, and he doesn’t have the slightest idea how to save their group.

He doesn’t have to think of anything, in the end, because Mai takes care of everything.

Zuko manages to pretend everything is fine until the air balloon departs from the island. Chit Sang offers to take the first shift alimenting the balloon, and Zuko lets him. He doesn’t have the courage to admit he will not be able to take a single shift, not with how quickly his condition is deteriorating. The solid, metal ground seems to shift under his feet, the world tilting around him. Pain scorches his nerves, pulsing and vicious. He dearly hopes Azula’s blades were not poisoned.

He means to slink away to try and patch himself up in peace, but Sokka notices him as he leaves the room and calls for him.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his bright, blue eyes shining with worry. A few steps behind, Hakoda watches the two of them interact with a careful, neutral expression.

Zuko forces himself to tear his gaze away from the man. He cannot think about fathers right now.

“I’m fine,” he answers. His voice cracks on those two small words, and Zuko is acutely aware of how false his answer sounds.

“Are you sure? Because even if it’s a graze, you should probably take care of it.”

“I will, and I’m fine,” says Zuko more ardently. His head swims from blood loss. He just wants to be alone so he can pass out and die in peace.

“Boy,” says Hakoda, taking a step forward. Zuko flinches back instinctively and trips on his feet. He falls onto his back, the impact making his wound explode in pain. He cannot bite back the strangled cry as it leaves him, or give a coherent answer when Sokka kneels next to him and asks him what is wrong; he is too busy panting through the pain.

He does not fight when Sokka lifts his tunic to reveal his wound, and barely pays attention to the subsequent gasp or the curse coming from a deeper voice.

“You told me it was just a graze,” says Sokka, his voice slightly hysterical. “This is not just a graze!”

“I lied.”

“Really? I hadn’t guessed.”

Zuko turns his face away. The coolness of the metal against his cheek soothes some of the fire going through him. He doesn’t want to face Sokka’s reproaches. He’s too tired for that.

Hakoda watches, helpless, as his son lays his friend’s head on his lap after they move him somewhere more comfortable. He helps Sokka take off the prince’s tunic and bandage his wound, then takes a step back and simply watches. Sokka talks to his friend, chatters about everything he can think of. His voice holds a desperate edge to it that Hakoda wishes he never had to hear.

“Just hold on, Zuko,” says Sokka. “Just a couple more hours and Katara will heal you.”

Zuko hums, but Hakoda can tell he is halfway to unconsciousness. He does not know what to do, does not know what to make of the boy who so readily puts himself in harm’s way, who said nothing about his wound. Who flinched away from Hakoda, his face stricken with terror.

When blood seeps through the bandages, Hakoda redoes them and keeps his hands firmly held against the wound, pressing down on it despite Zuko’s fear-tinged protests. Sokka calms the boy down when he panics because of Hakoda’s closeness, and Hakoda does not know what to make of this boy who is becoming a man. This boy he did not see grow up. Pride does not overcome his deep sorrow for those children who had to grow up far too fast, whose childhood and innocence were stolen by the war.

Miraculously, Zuko stays awake the whole flight to the air temple. Well, awake is a big word for his semi-conscious state, but he does not give in to unconsciousness. Hakoda does not know what to make of this boy who is so stubborn he can keep even death at bay.

Katara sets into motion as soon as Hakoda steps out of the balloon holding Zuko’s bloodied body. He puts the boy down on the ground, and after a quick hug to her father, Katara starts the healing process. Before long, Zuko is out of danger. An hour later, he is fully healed, if exhausted.

That evening around the fire, Hakoda watches happily as all these children talk over each other, telling (and embellishing) the story of the Boiling Rock or asking questions. He watches as Zuko slowly slides into slumber and eventually slumps on Sokka’s shoulder, who barely bats an eye at the other boy but tones down his grand gestures anyway.

@febuwhump

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