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imagineteller1 · 4 years

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Horror Night

Warnings: language, gore.

Pairings: Daryl x reader x Negan.

My heart felt heavy on my chest. I choked in every breath I took. I watched, what used to be Abraham, crushed in the floor. Everything was ringing. The tears blinding my vision.

Negan talked but I didn't pay attention, I couldn't. He was in front of Rosita, trying to get her to see the bloody bat of the man she loved. In a second, Daryl took a swing at Negan.

"Daryl! No!" I screamed and ran towards him, my hands extended in an attempt to grab him. Before I could reach him, some of Negan's men were already holding me down as well as Daryl.

"No!" Negan yelled pointing his bat at Daryl. "That- oh," he chuckled. "That is a no no. The whole thing, not one bit of that shit flies here." He now kneeled in front of me. His rough hand was pulling on my chin to look up at him. "Brave little thing here, eh?"

I pulled my face away from his grasp. He stood back up. A blonde man held Daryl's crossbow at his face.

"You want me to kill him? Right here?"

"No!" I screamed. Trashing my body in the men's grip, I kicked around.

"Hey! Hey, what part of staying quiet do you not get?" Negan turned to me with his bat.

"Please, please, don't kill him. I'm begging you." I sobbed and I felt like I couldn't breath. My breath was stuck in my throat. I felt like I was having a panic attack. When I started shaking more violently I knew I was. My limbs felt as if they weren't there. I felt heavy but at the same time lite.

I heard Negan say something and then Daryl was thrown back in line. He approached me and kneeled back down. I tried to push the men away but they just gripped tighter. "I c-an't brea-th." I stuttered.

"What did you say again, darlin'"

"I-I can't br-eath." He signalled his men and I was dropped. My palms were on the ground as I tried to calm down. My chest heaved violently as I gasped for air. I felt like I was drowning.

"Holy fucking shit, she is having an attack." He joked.

New tears reamed down my face and fell to the dirt. This could be it. I looked at Daryl. He was looking at me, I saw a tear flow down his cheek. He tried to walked towards me but he was pushed down.

I closed my eyes and tried to calm my breathing. Deep breaths. I could feel the oxygen make its way to my lungs. I heard Daryl's voice telling me to calm down like he had done countless of time, but in difference, he wasn't holding me this time.

After what felt like hours I opened my eyes and felt like I could breathe again.

"Still with us, doll?" Negan asked jokingly. "Both of you are so impulsive, not surprised you two are fucking." He took my face in his hand forcefully.

I glared up at him and he chuckled. "Get her back in line." Like that I was thrown in my back and dragged to where I had been kneeling before.

"Anyway... that's not how it works. Now, I already told you people, first one's free. Then what did I say, I said I would shut that shit down." He had a maniac smile on his face. "No exceptions. Now I don't know what kind of lying assholes you've been dealing with, but I'm a man of my word. First impressions are important." Short silence. "I need you to know me. So, back to it."

In a second Negan's bat connected with Glenn's head. I blinked a few times. Not being able to believe this was really happening. We had just lost two of the strongest men of our group in a couple of minutes. I looked at Maggie and saw her sobbing.

I looked back at Glenn. You could see his skull and one of his eyes was bulging out of its socket.

My heart was beating out of my chest and I could hear every beat thumping.

"Buddy, you still there?" Negan asked mockingly. He muttered something and then exclaimed. "You are trying to speak! But you just took a hell of a hit. I just popped your skull so hard your eyeball just popped out. This is as gross as shit."

"Maggie I-I'll find yo-u." Glenn finally was able to mutter out.

"Oh, hell." Negan spoke. His voice was calm and serious. Like he actually felt sorry. "I can see this is hard, amiga. I am sorry. I truly am. But, I did say..." a smile now played in his lips. "No exceptions." He swinged at Glenn again. I jumped back in place.

No, no, no.

"You bunch of pussies... I'm just getting started. Lucille is thirsty." He kept hitting and hitting. There was nothing left to hit yet he kept swinging his bat. After he got tired he stepped away and joked. "She is a vampire bat."

The only sound was Negan's boot and our cries.

"What? Was the joke that bad?"

Rick looked up from his spot with a trembling yet determined look in his eyes. "I'm gonna kill you."

"What? I didn't quite catch that. You're gonna have to speak up." Negan mocked.

"Not today... not tomorrow... but I'm gonna kill you."

"Jesus," Negan scoffed. "Simon, what did he have? Knife?"

"He had a hatchet."

"Hatchet?" He smiled.

"An axe."

Negan laughed. "Simon, is my right hand man. Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have left without 'em. A whole pile of work. You have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing. Oh, or did I-" he made a clock sound with his tongue.

Rick remained silent. Negan sighed. "Sure, yeah. Give me his axe."

Who I believed was Simon, stepped up with axe in hand and gave it to Negan. He stood up and grabbed Rick by the shoulder. "We'll be right back, maybe Rick will be with me. If not, well we can just turn these people's inside out. I mean, the ones that are left."

With that he shut the trailer's door closed and drove away.

I looked at Daryl. He was shaking. His gunshot wound could get infected with all the trauma his body was going through right now. I went to stand up but was held in place.

"I'm not gonna do anything. You have all of our weapons, what could I do?" I tried to reason with the men.

"You stay on your knees, bitch. Unless you want to end up like your friends over there." He signalled to the bodies that laid on the floor. With a thud I sat back in the ground, pulling my legs to my chest.

Hours had passed and the sun had come up when the trailer came back. No one came out for a couple of minutes. The air was full of tension as we hoped to see Rick still alive. When the door finally opened, Rick was pushed to the ground and Negan came out, he dragged Rick back to us.

"Here we are. Let me ask you something, Rick. You even know what that little trip was about?"

Rick remained silence.

"Speak when you're spoken to."

"Okay... okay."

"That trip was about the way you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you're still looking at me the same damn way... like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that's not gonna work." He paced around and then kneeled next to Rick. "So... do I give you another chance?"

"Yeah. Yes. Yes."

Patting Rick's shoulder he stood up. "Okay." He chuckled. "All right. And here it is- the grand prize game. What you do now will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone's last crap day or just another crap day. Get some guns to the back of their heads.”

Guns cocked from behind us.

"Good. Now... level with their noses, so if you have to fire..." he imitates an explosion. "It'll be a real mess."

Silence.

"Kid." He said looking at Carl. "Right here." He pointed to the ground beside Rick. Carl was frozen in place. "Kid... now." Carl took slow steps. Negan took of his belt. "You a southpaw?"

"Am I a what?"

"You a lefty?"

"No."

"Good." He smiled as he took Carl's arm and tied the belt around it, cutting the circulation. "That hurt?"

"No."

"Should. It's supposed to." He finished tying the belt. "All right. Get down on the ground, kid, next to daddy. Spread them wings." He took Carl's hat off.

Carl did as told. "Simon, you got a pen?"

"Yeah." He threw it at Negan. He took of the cap with his teeth and kneeled next to Carl.

"Sorry, kid. This is gonna be as cold as a warlock's ballsack, just like he was hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it across the forearm." We all watched in horror as Negan drew a line in Carl's arm. "There you go. Gives you a little leverage."

"Please. Please. Please don't. Please don't." Rick begged.

"Me?" Negan chuckled. "I ain't doing shit." He stood up. "Ah. Rick, I want you to take your axe... cut of your son's left arm off, right on that line. Now I know- I know. You're gonna have to process that for a second. That makes sense. Still, though, I'm gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then Carl dies, then the people back home die... and then you, eventually. I'm gonna keep you breathing for a few years, just so you can stew on it."

"You- you don't have to do this. We understand. We understand." Michonne spoke.

"You understand. Yeah. I'm not sure Rick does." He advertido his attention back to Rick. "I'm gonna need a clean cut right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed up thing to ask, but it's gonna have to be like a salami slice- nothing messy, clean, forty five degrees- give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. The kid'll be fine. Probably. Rick this needs to happen now- chop, chop- or I will crush the little fella's skull myself."

"Please, we all understand. Rick understands. We all work for you, stop this. You don't need to prove a point because you already did." I tried. This was my family. I wasn't gonna stay quiet and not try anything. My arms pointed at the fallen bodies.

I felt a gun press against the back of my head.

"It can- it can- it can be me." Rick stuttered out. "It can be me. Y-you can do it to me. I c- I can go with- with you."

"No. This is the only way. Rick... pick up the axe." Rick didn't move. "Not making a decision is a big decision." Negan's voice raised. "You really want to see all these people die? You will. You will see every ugly thing." He still didn't move. "Oh, my god." He groaned. "Are you gonna make me count? Okay, Rick. You win. I am counting."

"Three!"

"Please." Rick cried out. "Please. It can be me. Please!"

"Two!" He kneeled next to Rick.

"Please, don't do-" Rick sobbed and I looked away.

"This is it."

Rick screamed. I shut my eyes closed. Tears running down my cheeks.

"One!"

"Dad... just do it. Just do it." I heard Carl whisper.

I looked back at the scene.

Rick held the axe high, preparing to cut his son's arm.

"Rick." Negan stopped him. "You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?" Rick nodded hastily. "Speak when you're spoken to!" Negan's voice beamed making everyone jump. "You answer to me. You provide for me."

"Provide for you." Rick answered shakily.

"You belong to me, right?!"

"Right." Rick breathed heavy.

"Right. That... is the look I wanted to see." He stood up and took the axe. "We did it... all of us, together... even the dead ones on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure." He sighed. "Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope, for all your sake... that you get it now... that you understand how this work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you... that is over now." He chuckled.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "Ah, Dwight... load him up." He signalled to Daryl who struggled in, who I suppose was Dwight's, arms.

"What are you gonna do to him?" I asked. Trying to sound as strong as I could. Negan turned to me.

"How could I forget about you?" He took long yet calming strides towards me. "You, darlin', are coming with me too."

"Why?" I sounded more panicked than I wanted to.

"Because..." he smiled. "You've got a mouth on you and I really, really like it. Keeps me on my feet. I have a proposal for you..." he waited for my name.

"Lucia."

He smiled and licked his lips. "You hear that, Lucille? They sound similar... okay, Lucia. I have this proposal for you. You come with me, be one of my wives, and I, won't kill another one of your group, for your blabbing mouth. How does that sound, hm?"

Shock was written all over my face. "It's your choice, Lucia. Either you come with me or... I kill another one of your friends. So, what will it be?" He passed his finger along my jawline. I looked at the truck where Daryl was in.

Maybe, if I went with him I could find a way to help Daryl escape. I looked around the group. I wasn't gonna let anyone else die, much less because of my fault.

"Okay." I said. Turning off all my emotions.

"Great." He smiled. "You and I are gonna have a lot of fun together." He licked his lips while scanning my body. "Fan-fucking-tastic. Simon, put her in my truck. I still have some words to say to our new pal Rick."

As Simon grabbed my arm and led me to a truck I looked back and saw Rick watching me. I gave him a slight nod with my head, telling him I had a plan.

I wrote this a some time ago but hadn’t posted it here. Requests are open ❤️

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 6 years

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I’ll Meet You At The Bottom (Part 31)

Things were quiet that morning. He hated the quiet, usually it indicated something sinister. Chan was do for another trip to the industrial park, they all were. But no one seemed to have the energy for it. Not after Wire. The boy’s family had come to get him. Chan supposed that they should be happy for him, he was getting out of the pit, but now they were down another member and he didn’t trust Wire’s parents in the slightest. Not after all of the things Wire had said of them. Chan picked his way through his loot; he’d managed to snatch a shirt for Yoona whose own was becoming to tattered to wear, he got some shoes for Yoko, and he had brought some food with the remains of his cash. A spat with the Roka had depleted his funds almost entirely. Their little rag-tag gang was no match for the real deal, the kind of men who had no qualms about killing and stealing things that people would miss. If Chan wanted to get his gang—who was he fooling anymore—if he wanted to get his friends out of that miserable place he was either going to have to go headfirst into the pricklesnake’s pit or he would need to up his selling game. Azula came to mind; he hoped with all of his soul that she would ask for another satchel soon so he could double the charge. And he felt like the lowest sort of miscreant for the desire. He needed to save them though, he had promised that he would change things for them. For all of them. At the rate things were going, Taeyul wouldn’t live to see it. Something like a week prior, the boy had taken a rusty blade to the ribs courtesy of the Kuroi-Hi. The infection was spreading steadily and Chan could do nothing for it but take the edge off with a concoction called Badger Honey. Its popularity was rising almost as quickly as Ruby Tears. But that stuff was expensive to produce so he was reserving it only to get Taeyul through some of the longest, maybe some of the last nights of his life.

Needless to say, team morale was down. Bo-Rem hasn’t spoken to him since he ‘let’ Wire get taken away. These days it seemed like she was trying to push him out of his own gang and Khoza was in full support. Yoko was also putting his vote in for a tougher leader. He had Boryuk on his side though—Yuk, his first partner in crime—kept his loyalty. He couldn’t tell for the life of him where Yoona stood; though the shirt had earned him some favor, Chan had a sneaking suspicion that the girl was just waiting to see who came out on top to pick a side.

They were falling apart.

Chan whipped a rock at his shack, shattering the only intact window they had. He cursed endlessly. That, like everything else, was his own damn fault and he knew it. A gruff, “nice one, Chan” from Bo-Rem confirmed such.

He sighed and faced away from the shack, his little battered home. He missed his real home, he missed Ruon-Jian. He seated himself in front of their fire pit, it has been cool for six days now. No more drinks around the fire, these days they just drank to themselves or in pairs. He watched people pass in the distance, some in pairs others alone. A few in groups—friends or families he couldn’t tell. They were just sad, sorry silhouettes. The same as he probably was to them. He heard Taeyul moan from within the shack and he gripped his hands over his ears. He tried with all of his might to suppress the dark urges. The idea that he should sneak into the tent and put his friend down. He didn’t have long anyways. He cried out again, only reiterating the appeal of the notion. He got to his feet, metal glinting in his grasp. In the distance he could see two figures; were they distant enough not to hear, not to see? Chan couldn’t be sure so he flung the knife down with an angry howl.

A good thing too, for the pair wasn’t so distant anymore.

He didn’t have a name for the Water Tribesman and it took him a heartbeat too long to place the name of his companion. Her hair was longer and silkier, she had put on some weight, her skin tone had become even and almost radiant, and her outfit—though very simple—was as well groomed as her nails. But she assessed him with familiar golden eyes. Clear, sharp, unclouded golden eyes. A faint smile tugged at her lips. “It has been a while, Chan.”

.oOo.

The place looked broken…no, it looked broken before. Now it was in complete shambles. Azula wondered how long it has been in such a sorry state and just when it had started to get that way. Was it her absence or Minho’s, possibly it could have been both.

She let him hug her, a strangely kind gesture. It was nothing like Sokka’s embrace, it didn’t hold the same level of care, almost as if it were done just for the sake of physical contact. He lingers long enough to make Sokka squirm and cringe. But not so long that Sokka could say anything.

“Who’s that?” Chan eyeballed the man in question.

“This is Sokka.” She replied, going off to stand next to him. She wasn’t surprised to feel his arm wrap tightly around her middle. In fact, he made a point of doing so. “I figured I would bring him along for some sightseeing.” More than that it was for the sake of shutting him up. Among other things he refused to accept that she could handle her own, it might have been that he knew she could but didn’t want her to have to. She speculated that he was curious more than anything else and possessive when it came to Chan.

“What are you doing here?”

“Sightseeing.” Azula smirked.

“Are you here for more Ruby Tears?” Chan asked, she detected a sort of hopefulness intermixed with a twinge of desperation. Sokka gripped her somewhat harder, the ghost of a snarl on his face. He really ought to calm down, and Azula hoped that she wouldn’t have to make him.

“I haven used them in…”

“Ten weeks.” Sokka filled in.

“I probably should have realized that.” Chan rubbed the back of his head. The same hand came to brush across her cheek. She grasped his wrist and lowered it as Sokka stirred next to her. “I was upset when you took off…”

In the slam of wood on wood, Bo-Rem kicked the shack’s door open and came stumbling out. “Why’d you leave us anyways, princess?” She sneered with all of the hatred she had exuded the day she’d fought her. Slowly the others gathered behind her. For some reason she still expected Minho to prance over with that stupid lopsided grin and greet her with a, ‘hey pretty lady.’ It filled her with a hollow, raw sort of guilt.

“Cause she got what she came for, Bo. She didn’t need us anymore so she went back.” Kohza replied simply.

“Is what them hinger borns do.” Yoko added.

“We were just a pass time until you got it together, weren’t we?” Boryuk questioned.

Azula began to speak, Bo-Rem—as per usual—had been waiting for that moment to cut in. “Well it looks like you did, so why are you back here? You want us to rough you up again?”

Again, Sokka snarled, he was a ticking timebomb. She gave him a quick and subtle shock, a tiny bolt that had him rubbing his elbow. In the meantime, she was being scrutinized. Every little bit of her and based upon their faces the judgments weren’t ones of praise.

“How much did it cost to get that done?” Boryuk asked, pointing to her nails. “Bet we coulda helped Taeyul with that kinda cash. It ain’t even look that good.”

Azula furrowed her brows, “what happened to Taeyul?”

Instead of answering they continued to ridicule. Mostly petting things but with a few things that stung more. She kept her demeanor as passive as possible when Yoko scowled, “Ya left us for that?” He jabbed a finger at Sokka. “For a average piece of Water Tribe trash. One of them sea savages. Even we have standards here.”

“I left for my own reasons.”

“You missed getting pampered?” Boryuk filled in.

“We can all tell.” Bo-Rem muttered. “Mind sharing some of that food with us?”

Another low blow. Azula had to admire the venom in Bo-Rem’s voice and the nerve it took to speak to her like that. They were all itching for a reaction. Doing everything in their power to coax one out of her. For a second time with this lot, she found herself thankful for Ozai’s harsh treatment. The verbal and physical lashings that helped her build such a calm façade. Then, it might not have been a false nonchalance at all; she’d said such dreadful things about herself until she grew numb to it. But Sokka, he was growing incrementally testier on her behalf—and for the sea savage comment. He was fuming to a level that matched the best firebenders. He was ridged which was never a good sign. He was holding back.

As Yoona ran dirty fingers through Azula’s hair she babbled something akin to, “she smells nice…it’s awful!” The girl always was awful with dishing out insults. Azula gave her props for the attempt.

Bo-Rem picked up where she lacked, “why did it look better when it was chopped up?”

At this point Chan spoke, it was something in her defense. But as it were, Bo-Rem seemed to have tossed any semblance of respect to the side and went off on him for being a spoiled high blood too. At least the focus was off of her, at least as far as Bo-Rem was concerned.

Unsurprisingly, Kohza was the one hitting home. Where Bo-Rem, Boryuk, and Yoko were hyper-focused on the physical, Kohza had a terrible onslaught of truths. “You’re still selfish.” He drawled. “You came here, had some fun while you waited for things to clear up at home, got your fix, and left us when things got bad.”

“I think you and your highly intelligent detective squad have already established that.” Azula hissed, finding it harder to curb her tongue. He was treading in deep waters and she had a decently powerful zigzag of lightning to send into that sea.

“It’s your fault, you know? Minho died getting high enough to keep you entertained and then you just vanished. Back into the palace where you could pretend like it never happened. What was Minho to you? You didn’t care about him at all, did you?”

That was a deeper slash, any charge she had sizzled out. He delivered a metal shock to match her own physical one. She wondered if it would be a bad time to take Chan up on his offer for the tears, they would keep her from her own. She shouldn’t have come back, closure wasn’t worth it. Sokka was mumbling something soft to her, but she could only hear Kohza.

“And the worst part is, you came back here for you. Not for us. You came here to ease your guilt, didn’t you? You ran the minute Minho died, the minute things became real and you want us to tell you that it’s okay.”

He was right, wasn’t he? That was mostly what was on her mind. She wasn’t quite so different after all; she was still a liar, still conceited (but still somehow lacking self-esteem), still hateful…

Azula felt herself going numb again, it was the only shield she had left.

She had every desire to turn back the way she came. That would only prove him right wouldn’t it? They had her cornered. So instead she took a seat and listened to Kohza prattle on and on about her selfishness with more commentary from the others on her appearance sprinkled in. With a hint of cynical amusement, she noted that they kind of reminded her of the vase she’d had various spats with. Just like with the voices in the vase, she had nothing to say in her defense. She wished that they would just throw fire—or in the case of Boryuk, rocks—and punches instead. The urge to huddle over and cup her hands tightly against her ears was overwhelming. It would be a weak move though, so she let the berating continue.

Sokka must have seen the lively glimmer in her eye, that had been there only moments before, fade. He snapped, throwing a pretty solid bone-crunching punch to Kohza’s nose. Azula had forgotten that Bo-Rem was his lover until she rose, a solid wall of bulky muscle. Sokka faced her head on, raw anger alone gave him the upper hand. Azula felt strongly inclined to praise him for his strength and to add her own—a swift delivery of her wrath now that she mostly had some physical fight in her. But something wasn’t right in Sokka. Every brutal blow, every furious look, something was horribly wrong. She recognized it, perhaps in the same way Zu-Zu had detected it on her so long ago. He was slamming his fist into the side of Bo-Rem’s head, Azula could see her dim even duller than before.

“Sokka, you’re going to kill her if you keep that up.” Azula said softly, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe I should! Maybe you should!”

“I don’t want to.” Azula replied simply. “And you don’t want to either.”

Sokka snarled at her.

“Now look at this, you’ve worked yourself into a rage.” Azula rolled her eyes. It was the best she could do. She was afraid, maybe not of him.

But for him.

Among other things she would have to ask what this outburst was about. It wasn’t about some slum-town trash talk. No, this was pent up rage that had found an outlet. “Let her go, Sokka.” It took a considerable effort but she pried his hand away. She pinched the bridge of her nose and inwardly groaned. His display hadn’t helped her case any, even Chan was staring at her like she was brining woe upon the all. “Sit down Sokka. Over there.” She pointed a distance away.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” He hollered.

“I will. And you will listen.” Azula replied cooly, trailing her fingers over his very tense biceps. “Sit down and let me handle myself.”

“You brought me here to protect you.” It was almost a whine.

“I brought you here because you wanted to come, Sokka. I came here to sort out my problems on my own.” Her own lax demeanor was a pleasant surprise. She watched Sokka sulk over to the makeshift chair where he began brooding silently—she would have to lift his spirits somehow later—before turning her attention back to Kohza and his bleeding nose.

He was relentless, “any you brought your water dog here to trash the place too—”

This time she cut him off. “And he wouldn’t have done that if you would have held your uncivilized tongue. You know how to say just the wrong things don’t you? How to push every button at the same time. I suppose I can’t blame you, that’s my favorite tactic.” She shrugged.

Yoona snickered.

Yoona was her new favorite.

Kohza opened his mouth to protest but she left him no room. It was her turn. “The truth is, you want to be a noble. You wish that this,” she motioned to herself, “could be you.” She paused, letting it seep in. “I’m right, yes? You have such a sharp tongue, you’re clever, you have potential. But you were born here, so it’s all wasted, isn’t it?” The way his eyes bugged and his mouth parted told him that she’d cut as deep as he had. “You want to be the one who can run back to the palace when things get tough. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t if you had the chance.”

“Azula…” Chan tried in just the same way he’d tried to calm Bo-Rem. He had just as much success this time around.

“Don’t.” She held up her hand. “I’m not finished.”

Kohza sneered. “What else do you have to say?”

“I’m glad you asked!” Azula spoke with a false cheeriness, she clapped her hands together. “I want to tell you another truth.” She wandered closer to him.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“Hmmm. That You’re right, I did come here for myself, I suppose. To, I believe you said, ‘ease my guilt.’ You’re right, I came here to do something like that. Because I did care about Minho.” Her voice dropped warningly low, “you have no idea.”

“I leaves ya.” Yoona gave her input.

That made one person who did.

“What is she even saying!” Sokka threw his hands in the air.

“That she believes me.”

“Is that what she actually said or is that what you want to hear?” She heard Sokka grumble. He seemed to hate the place more than she had on her first visit.

“Then why’d ya leave?” Boryuk asked.

“I thought you liked us.” Bo-Rem added, “we a token for you.”

Azula held up the trinket in question, she never had parted with it. Bo-Rem’s face softened, it seemed that she took rejection as well as the princess herself. “I left because Kohza was right the first time too, I don’t belong here. I came here and Minho ended up dead, so I left before anyone else could.” Azula answered quietly. It was one of those things she didn’t like to say out loud, one of those things she realized as she said it. “Of course, I also wanted to put some distance between myself and the situation…” she couldn’t bring herself to finish; before it tore me apart.

“Well, someone did.” Yoko spat. “Least, he’s tryin’ to.”

Azula inquired again, “what happened to Taeyul?” She gave the camp another once-over. “And where’s Wire?”

“Wire’s parents took him home.” Chan answered.

“Where’s home?”

“Somewhere closer to your own.” Chan replied. “He was a runaway. They found him, robbing from a cabbage merchant of all things.”

“That guy is here too!?” Sokka sputtered incredulously. “I hate this place so much. I just—wow.”

He left Azula wondering what he had against cabbage merchants. She shook her head, she had more important questions to press. “And Taeyul.”

“Why don’ ya take a look, princess.” Yoko offered.

The inside of the shack was gloomy and smelled putrid, almost rotten. It smelled sickly. It was the unmistakable odor of death approaching. Taeyul was the source of the rot. Her infection had been pretty wicked, oozing a sort of nasty fluid. But his, his was weeping the stuff. She truly didn’t mean to but she visibly had to hold back a retch. He was definitely in a state of passing, lingering all too closely to the spirit realm. He was dying an Ash Pit style death. His entire face had a sheen of sweat, his cheeks blotchy and tearstained. They already lost Minho and Wire. They truly were in such a sorry state, one more loss and they would go down. “Let me take him home with me.”

“What!?” It wasn’t just Chan and Yoko. The reply had come from Sokka too. And Bo-Rem. And Boryuk…and Khoza. Yoona was off in her own little Yoona world, wrapping her long untamed locks around her pointer. But Azula imagined that she’d have uttered it to had she been paying attention.

“Let me take him back to the palace, I know someone who can heal him.”

“You want to bring him into the upper ring?” Chan asked.

“That’s correct.” Azula folded her arms over her chest. “Believe it or not, you idiots helped me. Now let me help you. This place is falling apart even Toph would be able to see that.”

“You can’t bring a person like Taeyul to a place like…like where we come from.”

“Is that a challenge, Chan?” Azula quirked an eyebrow. “Alright fine, I like challenges. I’ll bring all of you!” She didn’t know whose jaw hit the floor first.

Sokka ambled up behind her and spoke in a tone filled with anger and amazement. “Did I ever tell you that I hate your surprises?”

#Sokkla #Azula #Sokka #Toph #Aang #Katara #Zuko #Avatar #Fanfiction

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