Chapter Text
Sokka held back a snort. Zuko, prince of the Fire Nation (or, ex-prince, now), the crazy angry boy that had chased him and his sister and friends around the world and was now Aang’s firebending teacher, possibly the one person that would help Aang defeat the Firelord…Was a thumb-sucker. A thumb-sucker.
Unbelievable. Sokka marveled at what an enigma Zuko was –angry, tense, and angsty one moment (actually, most of the moments), a thumb-sucker the next.
The pale face was turned to the side, scar hidden, curled up in a small ball, thumb firmly in mouth, softly sucking. The look on his face was almost one of peace – one he had never seen before on the teen who had been so eager to reclaim the honor that was taken from him by his total psycho tyrant of a father.
Well, he looked as calm as he could be on a stolen war balloon in such a confined space.
He almost looked – cute. Delicate. Small, even. For the first time, Sokka didn’t feel completely on guard around Zuko. In fact, he almost felt...protective of him. With his thumb in his mouth, he didn’t look too different from the small kids he used to train to be warriors back in his small village in the Southern Water Tribe.
Sokka shook his head as if to clear his thoughts.
The moment passed with Zuko awakening, stretching out and getting to his feet. Sokka quickly glanced away and a faint blush appeared on Zuko’s cheeks. He knew Sokka had been watching him.
“Sleep well?” Sokka asked awkwardly. Damn, why am I so awkward around him? Or maybe it’s just him. Yep, it’s him, Sokka thought.
“Why were you watching me?”
“Huh? Watching you? I wasn’t.”
“I felt you watching me,” Zuko almost spat, arms crossed defensively.
“Hey, it’s not like there’s a lot of room in here. Who’s the one keeping the balloon up while you take your little nap? Chill,” Sokka sighed.
“That's kinda hard for me to do. Ya know, firebender and all,” Zuko muttered.
Sokka let out a belly laugh. “Hey, you’re kinda funny. When you don’t actually try.” He almost felt Zuko glowing next to him.
They settled into a more comfortable silence after that.
“Thanks for…you know…keeping it up and letting me sleep,” Zuko said. “I’ve been having some trouble sleeping. Lately. I’m not so used to…”
Being around other people so much. That are actually nice to you. That don’t want to burn you for speaking out of turn. That somewhat give a shit about you, Sokka thought. Sometimes being around Zuko actually hurt a little.
~
Iroh was the first to discover Zuko’s regression and the only one who knew he sucked his thumb and occasionally cuddled with a stuffed turtle duck and koala sheep to go to sleep.
Iroh had been the one to buy him both.
The first time it happened, he was thirteen. It was a few months after his bandage had been removed. Zuko was a wound-up ball of fury that would explode at the slightest provocation. The crew on the small vessel they were given to hunt down the Avatar had been steering clear of him, the banished young damaged prince. When they weren’t cowering in fear of him or being exasperated with him, he would catch a glimpse of something ugly on their faces. Something resembling pity.
He had a nightmare – really, more of a flashback than a nightmare. Of a flash of hot white light and fierce pain. He’d been having a lot of those recently since…it happened. He had broken into tearful, hurt sobs.
“Daddy don’t hurt meeeee. It hurrrtttts,” he had whimpered.
The next thing he knew, arms were circling him in warmth, tucking him in.
“Leaves from the vine, falling so slow. Like fragile tiny shells, drifting in the foam. Little soldier boy, comes marching home.”
He kept softly singing Zuko’s eyes fluttered shut and his breathing slowed. The next morning, Zuko awakened to find a small stuffed turtle duck on the end of his bed. The following year was particularly hard for Zuko. Quick-tempered and hot-headed, the boy struggled in his lessons and was angry at himself for not picking things up quick enough. He could practically hear Azula’s mocking words,
”You’ll never catch up, Zu-Zu. Might was well give up now.”
Could practically see his father’s slight, disgusted head shake. The Avatar was nowhere to be found and the longer they were out at sea, the more cynical the young man seemed to become. His nightmares were getting worse. His breakdowns were getting worse. He began wetting the bed. Yet, Iroh was ever-patient, ever calm in the dark storm of Zuko’s emotions. His presence kept the boy afloat.
He knew just how to calm Zuko down. A cuddle, a song, a story full of funny voices and mysticism. For his fifteenth birthday he had been given a stuffed koala sheep from a small market in the Earth Kingdom. Outside his room, he was all bluster and bravado. Inside the safety of his room, he would hug both stuffies tightly to his chest. Let Iroh pet his hair, treat him like a much younger version of the child he was. One that was just learning of the world, one that still had trust in the adults around him.
He almost left them behind when he and Iroh ended up on the run. But he couldn’t bear leaving them behind. They held too much love and comfort. Now he rarely cuddled them at night. Lest the others found out. They also made him think way too much of Iroh. Uncle Iroh.
He missed his uncle, oh so desperately. He also knew facing him again would be almost impossible.
~
It had been an exhausting day, breaking into the Boiling Rock, being chased by Azula, finally getting back to the sanctity of the Western Air Temple.
Of all the nations, the Fire Nation certainly had the worst prisons. But, he decided it hadn’t been so bad. They got everyone out they needed to. The best part of all, in the midst of the excitement, Sokka had kissed him. Him. Well, pecked him really. But still.
He knew Sokka didn’t love him. Couldn’t love him. He had Suki, after all. He was hardly going to drop his girlfriend for the loser that had chased him around the world. That hadn’t stopped the warm, wonderful feeling from bubbling up in his chest when their lips had brushed.
“We did it!” Sokka had said, right before he had felt the softness of his lips for just the briefest of moments before the other boy had broken away. Zuko had never been kissed before, but, he decided, if there was anyone that he wanted to kiss him again, it was Sokka.
The rest of the evening had been spend in a stupor. Zuko had felt overwhelmed by all the people and had kept to the darker corners of the Western Air Temple as the others reunited. Seeing Suki and Sokka together holding hands had made him feel weird. Sweaty. Like he wished it were his hand in Sokka's, held so tightly yet so gently.
Seeing Hakoda around Katara and Sokka made him feel uncomfortable.
Hakoda, Katara and Sokka’s father, was a strong, warm, intelligent, and incredibly perceptive man – who was the antithesis of his own father. He practically screamed love and safety in every action he made, in the way he hugged his children to him, patted Sokka’s shoulder. Made Katara giggle.
He couldn’t imagine this man ever laying a hand on Sokka or Katara in anger. The worst he would probably do would be forbid them from going penguin sledding for a day. Maybe make them listen to his bad dad jokes.
Now it seemed the man had somehow followed him.
“Hey. Long day, huh?”
Zuko whirled around, on edge. The others had been sleeping, he assumed Hakoda had been as well.
Hakoda merely held up his hands, taking a step back.
“Hey, relax. Just came out here to get some air.”
Zuko sighed, relaxing ever so slightly. The silence between them felt more comfortable than awkward.
“I don’t know much about you, Zuko. But you know, my son really cares about you.”
“He does?” Zuko squeaked, then realized he had and coughed a bit to cover it up, embarrassed.
Hakoda smirked. “I should know when my son cares about someone really deeply. He showed that in his actions today.”
“Of course he did. I was helping him break you out of prison,” Zuko muttered.
"Thanks for that, by the way," he said, sitting down, leaning up against one of the temple's many statues and looking up at Zuko.
Zuko waiting a minute before sitting down a few feet from him.
"Sure. I know how bad Fire Nation prisons are. Especially how prisoners treat Water Tribe prisoners of war." Zuko suddenly felt very cold, despite the balminess of the evening.
"Zuko, I know you've struggled a lot - I've heard -"
"You don't know me. You don't know anything about me," Zuko snapped, then realized how it came out and he let out a long sigh.
"Sorr-" the two began in unison.
"Sorry," Hakoda continued as Zuko glanced down in shame. "You're right, I don't know anything about you. Just rumors. I heard your father gave you that scar. If that's true, I'm truly sorry. A father - what he did, it's vile, and awful and just...wrong."
"I know that. I don't want your pity. Don't need it. Besides, that's why I'm with the Avatar. Helping to train him. We're going to take Ozai down." He tried to say it as confidently as possible, only wavering ever so slightly. He was beginning to feel unraveled by the conversation.
"I'm not pitying you. I see you as a strong, capable young man. But I want you to know, if you'd like to talk to me about it, I'm here to listen. Again, I
I really want to thank you for today. For being there for Sokka. I know without your help, I'd probably be sitting in a cold metal cell right about now." He huffed a laugh.
Zuko couldn't understand why Hakoda was so open, why he seemed to care so much. It certainly wasn't something he had ever been used to. Not for a long time, anyway.
He briefly made eye contact with Hakoda. Saw the love in his deep blue eyes the color of the sea.
"I really like him," Zuko said, almost in a whisper.
"You should tell him that," Hakoda said. They both fell back into the comfortable silence after that, sitting together for a little while longer before Zuko finally decided he could use some sleep and got up, stretching a bit. Hakoda followed after him, extending his hand a bit, only for Zuko to reel back like the man was infected. Hakoda slowly lowered his arm, but gave Zuko a smile and a nod.
You're good now. You're good. Smile back,he thought to himself, and he nodded back and tried to smile, but it came out looking closer to a grimace.
~
Zuko had felt a warmth in his heart at Sokka's praise for saving them all from Azula.
That’s are what friends are for, he thought to himself. Friends indeed. Who knew he would become so close to the group he had spent so much time chasing after? Who knew he would become the Avatar’s own firebending teacher?
He knew Azula would stop at nothing to destroy them all – even if it involved destroying herself in the process. It was up to him to prevent that from happening, as best he could. Because he liked this. He liked Toph’s gruff affection, Aang’s air-headedness and curiosity, Sokka’s playfulness. Katara was not quite there yet, but he hoped she would eventually become more comfortable around him now that he was on their side and had saved them.
Now they were finally safe. For the moment, they were finally safe.
Now he was alone with Sokka in his tent, candles lit all around him, trying to calm his heart and keep it from pounding out of his chest at the sight of Sokka with his hair down. He knew Sokka had been disappointed that it was him that was in the tent, not Suki. Yet, Sokka ended up being open with him, had revealed to him the fate of his and Katara’s mother.
“Sokka, I - ” he began, thinking back to Hakoda’s advice to tell Sokka of his feelings, but Sokka had quickly ushered him out of the tent. He had hung back a bit, blushing deeply when Sokka had popped his head back out of the tent, whispering for Suki. Suki, the beautiful Kyoshi Warrior. Suki who had all the confidence. Of course, why would Sokka care about Zuko when he had Suki around?
Alone outside Katara’s tent, Zuko resolved revenge for her. For Sokka. It was high time he took some responsibility for his people - no, not my people, not anymore, he thought. Time he took responsibility for what they did, as Ozai’s son.
But it turned out vengeance wasn’t as easy as he thought. Aang was wise beyond his 12 years (maybe being frozen in ice for 100 years helped with that, Zuko couldn't help pondering), and was right that violence wasn’t the answer.
Katara forgave him, yet he felt empty and shivery. Sozin’s Comet was creeping ever closer and he wasn’t sure Aang had it in him to defeat the Firelord, the man that had lit his face on fire for challenging his disastrous plan in human sacrifice. The man that had made his childhood a fiery hell – quite literally. He couldn’t begin to consider the consequences of Ozai winning.
The night they arrived at Ember Island, at his childhood beach house, Zuko couldn’t sleep yet again. The house brought up far too many memories. Some happy, like him and Azula building sandcastles together (until Azula stomped on his and set it on fire, that it), his mother teaching him how to swim in the ocean, chasing after him, catching him and peppering his face in kisses. Then he thought of Ozai. Distant, in the background, watching them.
Eventually, he felt himself drift off to sleep, but his dreams were rapidly plagued by fire and pain and terrified screaming. So much screaming.
Jerking awake, he realized he had wet himself. He hadn’t done that in months. He attempted to shove down the intense wave of humiliation and fear and disgust and clean himself up, but found himself totally frozen.
The bed was completely wet, his pants soaked. He bit back a whimper, less he wake up the other kids in the rooms next to him. Digging through his bag, he pulled out his stuffies, clutching them to his chest like a lifeline, popping his thumb in his mouth as he rocked back in forth. His mind was whirling, his breathing heavy. He heard footsteps near his door, inching closer and closer There was a light knock on his door. He held his breath, praying they would just go away so he could rock for a bit before pulling himself together to get some sleep before continuing Aang's training the next day.
"Hey, Zuko? Sorry to bother you, but - " Sokka suddenly popped his face into the room, quickly settling on Zuko's tearstained face, taking in his panting form, arms clutching two stuffed animals, legs folded under him, the bed soaking wet.
"Zuko," he whispered before moving further into Zuko's room.
"S-s-s-okka?"