Chapter Text
Zuko had always been determined.
Azula had teased him often when his one track mind ran in the direction of food, but his determination served him well over the years. It kept him going even when the odds seemed insurmountable, even when his strength was all but gone, even when he wanted nothing more than for it all to be over.
It kept him going all through the long years of searching for the missing Avatar, while he was still clinging to the hope that he could prove himself to his father and to himself, that he could regain his honor, and in doing so, become whole again.
It had taken him a long time to realize that he had been naive.
Shaking his head to clear it, Zuko scanned the open air in front of him. The Avatar’s flying bison was far ahead of him, but still within sight. The bison was burdened, carrying a heavy load, and Zuko was slowly but surely gaining on them.
Isn’t it ironic? He thought wryly, that now I could finally end it once and for all, I don’t want to. Fate is a fickle thing, isn't it?
The sun was setting in the distance, vibrant colors bleeding into each other, blending and mixing to create a picturesque scene. Zuko clutched the rudder of the airship tighter, ignoring the stabbing pain in his side. Apparently his father was more organized than he had thought, he had already sent out orders to his guards to kill Zuko on sight.
Zuko gritted his teeth.
No. He couldn’t afford to be weak. Not now, not ever. Lashing the rudder to keep it in place with shaky hands, the former fire prince opened the coal burner of the airship and fed it more flames.
Zuko wiped his sweaty brow, bloodshot eyes wandering to find the flying bison in the distance. The memory forced its way upon him unbidden, his memory going back to when he was young and still believed in the black and white of good and evil.
“Mama!”
Zuko ran through the halls of the fire palace, tears streaming down his face. “Mama!” He found her out in the courtyard, beside the turtleduck pond, one of her favorite places. It was one of his too, if only because his mother was there often. “Mama! Look!” He skidded to a stop in front of her, all but shoving his cupped hands in front of her face so she could see what he was holding.
“Whoa, there, Zuko, calm down,” His mother said calmly, inspecting the small bird in his hands. “What happened?” She carefully lifted the small bird – probably a baby – out of Zuko’s sweaty grasp.
“Well I was out in the gardens,” He began, wiping the tears off his cheeks even as fresh tears poured down. “And I saw this bird just minding his own business, and then a weasel-fox jumped out of the bushes and attacked it and I didn’t know what to do, but I ran at it and I guess I scared it because it ran away, and the bird was hurt and couldn’t fly and I didn’t know what to do so I went to find you and I ran into Azula and she said that I should let it die because it wasn’t strong enough but I didn’t want–” He broke off, swallowing a sob as another round of tears cascaded down his face.
“It’s okay, Zuko.” His mother said soothingly, lying the baby bird in her lap and pulling her young son into a tight embrace. “We’ll take care of her, she’ll be back to flying in no time.”
“But did I do the right thing? Azula said-”
“Zuko,” His mother reached up, wiping away Zuko’s tears with one gentle hand. “You did the right thing. Sometimes, in life, it’ll be very hard to do what is right.”
“Then how will I know what the right thing is?” Zuko sniffled, tears finally subsiding.
“Because,” His mother laid her hand on his chest, directly over his heart. “You’ll know in here.”
“How do you know?” Hiccupping, Zuko slipped his hand into his mothers, taking comfort in the warmth from her soft hand.
“Oh, Zuko,” She smiled sadly at him, but her gaze was unfocused, as if her mind was far away. Then her gaze sharpened and she offered him a stronger smile. “I’m sorry you have to learn this so early, but the world isn’t fair. Sometimes, people don’t get what they deserve. Sometimes, evil wins.”
“Evil never wins!” Zuko said, shaking his head and frowning. “All the stories you tell, the good guys always win!”
“Yes, but those are only stories. Real life isn’t always like that. Good and evil aren’t always so clear to see. Sometimes it can be confusing, who is good and who is evil.” She sighed, pushing an unruly lock of Zuko’s hair out of his eyes. “Remember this, Zuko. No one is ever truly evil, and no one is ever truly good. There is always some of both. There is always a balance.”
“I don’t understand.” Zuko whined, hands fidgeting with the hem of his tunic.
“You will someday.” His mother said softly, taking another moment to study his face before scooping up the baby bird from where she had nestled in her lap. “Now come, we have a baby bird to attend to.”
Zuko blinked a few times, trying to dispel the memory. He couldn’t afford to lose focus. Not now.
The sunset had faded away, the dark of night creeping to cover the land in a blanket of velvet blue, with tiny embroidered stitches of silver dotting the vast cloth. If Zuko wasn’t so tired, he would’ve admired the view. As it was, he dug his fingernails into his palm, the sharp sting drawing him out of his weary stupor.
Noting that he had drifted too far to the right, Zuko untied the airship’s rudder, ignoring the throbbing pain in his side, and steered the ship back on course.
He hadn’t actually had a chance to look at the wound since his panicked flight from his confrontation with his father. He had been rushed by a team of six guards, and while his skills with his dual swords were quite impressive, he couldn’t defend himself on all sides at once.
He had nearly made it to the door before one of the guards connected with a lucky hit. Now, he tied the rudder back in place and fueled the engine one more time, then, satisfied the ship would be fine for a little while, sat down, pressing his back into the cool metal side.
After taking a moment to breathe, Zuko reached down and tentatively touched the wound in his side. It was not one of his wisest decisions. White-hot pain shot through his veins, starting in his side and spreading outward, like jagged bolts of lightning.
Groaning in pain, Zuko curled into himself, his father’s words from so long ago echoing in his head.
‘Azula was born lucky. You were lucky to be born.’
Maybe he was right. Maybe it would have been better if Zuko had never been born at all.
No. He thought, forcing his battered body to sit, then stand. Not for yourself. For Uncle. For Mother. I have to continue. I have to.
Ahead of him, the Avatar and his team had touched down to rest for the night. If Zuko flew ahead of them, he could wait for them at the Western Air Temple. Then he could explain. Then he could explain that he had changed. That he was good. That he wasn’t the same person he had been.
If he could just make a little further, everything would be alright.
***
It was surreal, Zuko thought, the way they joked and laughed around one another. As if they weren’t in a wartime that had lasted for a hundred years. As if they hadn't just failed in an invasion to stop the Fire Lord from conquering the rest of the world. He wondered vaguely what it would be like to joke around with friends, to not have the threat of his father – of the world’s end – looming over his head every second.
He was hidden behind one of the pillars of the Western Air Temple, merely observing as the Avatar and his many friends set up their camp.
His side throbbed, a pulsing pain that wouldn’t leave him alone. Zuko had wrapped a crude bandage around himself in the darkness last night, and he still hadn’t actually taken a good look at it in the light.
The Earth Kingdom citizens – Zuko wasn’t entirely clear on who they were – left to explore the Temple, and finally Zuko was presented with his chance. Standing from his awkward half-kneeling, half-sitting position behind the pillar, the firebender strode with as much confidence as he could muster, which wasn’t much, out into the open.
“Hello, Zuko here.” He said, weakly raising one hand in a gesture of greeting. Not to his surprise, the Avatar and his friends immediately shifted into battle positions. “Hey,” He continued as they glared at him. “I heard you guys flying around down there so I just thought I’d wait for you here.”
Mentally, he cursed himself for being so awkward. Really? ‘Hello, Zuko here?’ He winced as a spike of pain flashed through his side. Hopefully they didn’t notice. If they thought he was weak, then they’d reject him for sure.
Before he could continue with his speech, which he had to have practiced at least a hundred times, the giant flying bison stepped closer to him, giving him what could be read as an appraising look. The bison – Appa, Zuko thought his name was – roared at him, and Zuko flung his arms up to cover his face. But, to his surprise, the bite never came.
Instead, Appa’s rough tongue almost knocked him over, and the surprising wetness that followed wasn’t high on Zuko’s list of pleasant sensations.
He straightened, confused, and grateful that the bison hadn’t licked his injured side. The bison licked him again, his face this time, and Zuko grimaced at the unpleasant smelling slobber, raising a hand to scrub as much as he could off his face.
Taking a deep breath, he turned his attention back to the rag tag group in front of him, all who looked just as surprised as him that Appa hadn’t decided to turn Zuko into a midday snack. “I know you must be surprised to see me here.”
“Not really.” The water tribe boy – Sokka, Zuko had heard his name as – said, voice layered with sarcasm, anger, and a heavy dose of warning. “Since you’ve followed us all over the world.”
“Right.” Zuko looked away, pinning his gaze on the temple’s floor as a wave of guilt washed over him. He had done so many terrible things. Did he truly believe he could be redeemed? “Well, uh, anyway,” He tried to steady his shaky voice. “What I wanted to tell you,” He paused, all the speaking and movement jostling his wound. “About, is that I’ve changed.”
He looked up, forcing himself to meet the Avatar’s stare. “And I, uh,” It was so hard to think. Why was it so hard to think? “I’m good now. And, well, I think I should join your group.” He was forgetting something. What was it? “Oh, and I can teach firebending. To you.”
He paused, gauging their reactions. Aang’s eyes were wide with surprise, and his youthful face had a conflicted expression that shouldn’t have to be seen on one so young. Katara was angry, as he had expected. Her eyes were narrowed into slits, and if looks could kill, Zuko would have been dead before he hit the floor. Sokka was wary, and Toph was confused, with a fair bit of suspicion mixed in.
“See I, uh–” Zuko began, but Toph cut him off.
“You wanna what now?” She said, voice incredulous.
“You can’t possibly think any of us would trust you, can you?” Katara said, tone sharp and cold. “I mean, how stupid do you think we are?”
“Yeah!” Sokka jumped in to back up his sister. “All you’ve ever done is try to hunt us down and capture Aang!”
“I’ve done some good things!” Zuko protested, while his brain scattered in a million different directions trying to remember what those good things were. “I mean, I could have stolen your bison in Ba Sing Se, but I set him free, that’s something!” He took a step forward, another jolt of pain shooting through his side.
Appa had settled himself comfortably on the ground behind Zuko, but now he lifted his head and licked Zuko’s back, and the former prince couldn’t stop a small gasp of pain from escaping.
“Appa does seem to like him.” Toph said, stretching out of her defensive pose. She sounded more thoughtful than suspicious, and Zuko couldn't help a surge of hope. Maybe there was hope after all.
“He probably just covered himself in honey or something so Appa would lick him,” Sokka said, “I’m not buying it.”
“I can understand why you wouldn’t trust me,” Zuko turned his gaze toward the floor, fighting back a wave of dizziness that seemed to strike him from out of the blue. It took everything in him not to collapse right there, but apparently no one else noticed, or they just didn’t care. “And I know I’ve made some mistakes in the past.”
“Like when you attacked our village?” Sokka said.
“Or when you stole my mother’s necklace and used it to track us down and capture us?” Katara scowled at him, her hands tight fists at her side.
“Look.” Zuko said, blinking to clear the fuzziness that was rapidly taking over his vision. “I admit I’ve done some awful things, I was wrong to try to capture you, and I’m sorry that I attacked the water tribe.” He put a hand to his head, closing his eyes. Memories of all the terrible things he had done clustered in the forefront of his mind, and he couldn't concentrate on what he was trying to say. “And I never should have sent that fire nation assassin after you, I’m gonna try to st–”
“Wait, you sent Combustion Man after us?” Sokka yelped, whipping his boomerang from his back and pointing it threateningly at Zuko.
“Well, that’s not his name, but–” What was his name? Zuko was finding it hard to remember.
“Oh, sorry.” Sokka’s voice was dripping in sarcasm. “I didn’t mean to insult your friend.”
“He’s not my friend!” Zuko protested.
“That guy locked me and Katara in jail and tried to blow us all up!” Toph said, thoughtfulness replaced by anger.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” He asked Aang, who stood silently, expression still conflicted. “You once said you thought we could be friends.” He continued, not caring how pleading his voice sounded. “You know I have good in me.” He meant the words to sound confident, sincere, but all that came out was a desperate question.
Aang looked away, then to his friends. Sokka shook his head, and while Katara was too busy glaring at Zuko, her position on the matter was well known. Finally, he took a deep breath and looked Zuko straight in the eye. “There’s no way we can trust you after everything you’ve done. We’ll never let you join us.”
“You need to get out of here. Now.” Katara said.
Zuko’s hopes crashed to the ground. Of course. Had he really expected them to… What? Invite him in with open arms? Forget everything he had done, every time he had hurt them?
No. Of course not. That wasn’t the way the world worked. But he couldn’t give up. He had come much too far for that. He had to try. He had to try to make them see.
“I’m trying to explain that I’m not that person anymore!” He nearly shouted, throwing his hands in the air.
“Either you leave, or we attack.” Sokka said as the team prepared to attack.
Zuko’s heart stopped. It couldn’t end here. Not now. Now like this. He had to keep going, had to make them see, no matter what the cost. “If you won’t accept me as a friend–” He said, swallowing his pride and slowly lowering himself to his knees before them. “Then maybe you’ll take me as a prisoner.” He raised his hands above his head, ready for the ropes that were sure to follow.
“No we won’t!” Katara stepped forward, directing a small wave of water into Zuko and knocking him backward. Zuko let out a surprised grunt as the cold water slammed into his wound, sending fresh waves of pain crashing throughout his body. He groaned, propping himself up to look at the group as water streamed into his eyes, making his vision even blurrier than it already was.
“Get out of here and don’t come back.” Katara growled, her voice tight with barely controlled rage. “And if we ever see you again…” She paused, unable to think of an appropriate punishment. “Well, we’d better not see you again!”
Zuko hung his head, slowly forcing himself to his feet, the water soaking his shirt, making the material cling to his side, where a warm sticky substance was beginning to mix with the water.
Without a backwards glance at the group, he trudged off, each step jostling his wound and making him grimace and wince in pain. His side felt like it was on fire. No, like the very blood in his veins had turned into fire, scorching him from the inside.
He had failed, well and truly failed.
Hah. He thought, each step taking every ounce of determination he had left. Now what am I? Traitorous, rejected, shunned. I really do have no home to return to. No one to call friend. No one to call family. No one at all.
Not for the first time, Zuko knew that he was truly alone.