Chapter Text
I'm dancing with my demons
I'm hanging off the edge
Storm clouds gather beneath me
Waves break above my head
Headfirst hallucination
I wanna fall wide awake now
You tell me it's alright
Tell me I'm forgiven, tonight
But nobody can save me now
I'm holding up a light
I'm chasing out the darkness inside
'Cause nobody can save me
Zuko knew he was being stupid. Really, he did. But that didn’t stop him from shaking his head at his servants.
“ Go! I don’t need your help!” he all but shouted. He grimaced at his own voice. How had he managed to sound even raspier than normal? How long had they been arguing about this anyways?
“Fire Lord Zuko, sir, we simply need to ensure that the clothing does not irritate your wound,” a younger girl— Ikusa, he believed was her name— stated.
“And why do I need your help with that? Please, I’m more than capable of dressing myself.”
Ikusa frowned at him.
He tried not to upset the servants, he did, but they made it impossible sometimes with their insistence on formalities and their, to be frank, obsession with his health. It had been three weeks since the Agni Kai. Since he was struck with lightning by his crazy sister. Since his evil father was overthrown.
He was lucky that the servants and Katara even let him out of his bed to be crowned. They were so obsessed, in fact, that they had been encouraging Zuko to see one of the special healers or one of the many doctors that the Northern Water Tribe and the Earth Kingdom were respectively sending to the Gaang and their friends. He supposed that included him. He hadn’t exactly gotten around to asking yet, and to be honest, he didn’t want to.
This was one of those times when his anxiety would get the best of him. Katara could heal him, but she couldn’t diagnose him. He knew there was permanent damage to his heart. There had to be. Just like there had to have been permanent damage to his ear and eye after his father had set his face on fire. Though, he had refused a healer then and turned out fine. So what if he could only see out of his right eye? So what if he often had to ask others to repeat themselves? He shook his head, burying the thoughts.
“Fire Lord Zuko, sir, you’re going to be late if you do not get dressed immediately,” Ikusa spoke up once more. He liked Ikusa. She was one of the only servants who would speak against him. He respected her. He could only hope she respected him.
“Fine,” he replied, giving up. He didn’t have the energy for this battle. Not today.
Zuko met up with the rest of the Gaang in the infirmary. Aang’s incessant chattering aggravated the headache that Zuko didn’t know he had. He hoped this physical would come and go quickly so that he could get back to his duties, which admittedly were light due to his injury and the current sweep of potential Ozai supporters in his cabinet. Still, he wanted to prove himself capable.
Everyone grew quiet when Katara entered the room. It was her that was orchestrating this, and it was her that had argued the loudest for a variety of physicians. She wanted them to get second and third opinions, especially for Sokka’s leg, which was proving unresponsive to her healing. She surveyed the room then cleared her throat.
“Alright so here’s the plan: we’re each going to be seen by a healer, a doctor, and the therapist. They’re going to be here for the next month, then they might relocate depending on how we’re all feeling and where we decide to go. Aang and I have talked about it, and once everyone is cleared, we’re going to search for any living air nomads that may have escaped Sozin. Does anyone have any questions before they get here?”
“How can these people help us any more than you can?” Sokka asked, his leg propped up where he lay on one of the beds.
“Well, some of these people have more experience than me, and also, the Earth Kingdom uses different practices and techniques. They offered these people, so I figured why not use them? What could be the harm in it?” Katara replied.
“Isn’t a therapist a little... extreme, Katara? Or was this an Earth Kingdom idea? We all survived a war so we’ve got to be sick in the head?” Sokka suggested.
“Actually, Sokka,” Aang spoke up. “I was the one who requested a therapist for us all. You don’t have to speak with one if you don’t want to, but we all saw some pretty horrific things. Like Katara said, what’s the harm?”
Zuko let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He would not speak to a therapist, even if it killed him. Talking had never made him feel better before, why would it now? Besides, he had everything he ever wanted: people who cared about him, his throne, his country… Why focus on the negative?
The group fell quiet again once the Water Tribe ships arrived. It seemed the Earth Kingdom doctors, and their therapist, were running behind schedule.
—
The exam with his healer, Iha, was simple. She spent extra time near his heart, muttering to herself as she did so. Zuko didn’t know how to take that. Eventually, she finished, stating that he had suffered an extreme electric shock. He tried not to roll his eyes. Zuko didn’t know the specifics of waterbending healing, but everyone else seemed satisfied. He thanked Agni that he had enough common sense now to not question the woman’s skills aloud.
Slowly, everyone returned to their rooms. Suki, Katara, and Toph were the first to leave. Aang’s exam finished shortly after.
“Will I see you guys at dinner?” he asked Zuko and Sokka.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. You know, I’m really starting to get used to this Fire Nation food,” Sokka said.
“It’s not bad,” Zuko said.
The other healers finished Sokka’s exam promptly and looked back at Zuko hesitantly.
“Anything you have to say, you can say in front of him. I trust Zuko with my life,” Sokka said firmly. He added, “You did save Katara’s, after all.”
Zuko felt his cheeks warm. He coughed.
One of the healers spoke up, “Your leg is absolutely shattered. It’s going to take months to heal, and even then, you’re going to need a cast.”
“Okay, so you’re just going to stick a cast on me now?”
“Well, not now now. In order to reach optimal results, we’ll need to have the Earth Kingdom doctors assist us. They can mold it to fit your exact dimensions. Other than that, you are a picture of health.”
Sokka beamed.
“Will there be anything else?” the healer turned to Zuko. It suddenly dawned on him that he was, in fact, the one in charge here.
Strange.
He shook his head. The three remaining healers headed to the guest rooms, no doubt to rest after a long day of travel and work.
“You’re taking this pretty well,” Zuko said.
“You know, I could say the same about you, mister electric-currents-running- through-his-heart.”
“You wanna know what’s weird?” Zuko asked.
“What’s that?”
“Anytime it hurts, I feel, like, a thousand little lightning bolts hitting me in the chest at the same time.”
“I don’t think that’s a good thing, Zuko. Actually, yeah, I think you should’ve told the healer that. We can still get them. Rikoyo!” Sokka called out.
“No!” Zuko exclaimed. “I mean, uh, no, it’s fine. I’ll just tell them tomorrow.”
Sokka didn’t look convinced: “Okay, dude, it’s your funeral.” He shrugged, then grabbed his crutches. “What do you have planned for the rest of your day?”
“Nothing,” Zuko said truthfully. “I might look at some policy papers. I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet. You?”
“I don’t have any plans,” Sokka said. “Mind if I tag along with whatever you’re doing?”
“Sure.”
Sokka followed Zuko— albeit slowly— to the Royal Chambers. Ever since they had won the war, Zuko had been staying in his old bedroom. He didn’t know why, but the Fire Lord’s Chambers just seemed so… intimidating . He was ashamed to admit it, but no one had questioned him yet. Sokka hadn’t brought it up, at least.
Zuko wasn’t exactly sure why, but Sokka had been appearing by his side more and more. Maybe he wanted to keep tabs on Zuko— make sure the new Fire Lord would be loyal to the Avatar. Or maybe he’s lonely too, a voice in the back of his head said. Don’t be stupid, another voice clawed its way up, he’s surrounded by friends. He’s probably just taking pity on you because you’re alone so much.
Zuko sighed deeply. Lately, he wasn’t sure of much.
“Sorry, I swear I’m trying to keep up,” Sokka called out, trailing about ten feet behind Zuko.
“What? No, you’re fine. I’m sorry; I got lost in my head, and I wasn’t paying attention to my pace.”
“Is it hard being here? You know, with all the memories?” Sokka asked thoughtfully. Zuko had never expressed any of the malevolence that was present in his childhood, but he supposed Sokka could guess, as Zuko was literally raised by the most evil man in the world. Or, at least, partially raised.
He shrugged, not eager to revisit the past.
Finally, they made it to his room. He helped Sokka on the bed then grabbed his scrolls. Once seated next to Sokka, he said, “I was reading up on the education guidelines. Did you know the Fire Nation teaches that the Air Nomads had an army?”
“I did know that, actually. Aang attended some random Fire Nation school once a few months ago. I think he was most angry about the prohibition of dancing.”
“ Dancing? Of course that’s what Aang was worried about,” Zuko scoffed.
“I don’t know. I seem to remember someone else having a knack for dancing.”
“That was an ancient firebending form!”
“Right, right, jerkbending. Got it.” Sokka smirked.
Zuko stared down at his lap. He was always unsure what to do in moments like these. He had never had many of his own friends as a child, forced to spend time with Azula’s. He supposed it could be worse.
“So what’s your goal?” Sokka asked, knocking Zuko out of his own head.
“I’m going to get rid of the propaganda. All of it.”
“Not to rain on your parade, but that’s a little broad. You’ve got to start small, or you’re going to completely burn out before you even make a dent in the problem,” Sokka said, tapping his chin.
“You’re right. So, what do you think? We focus on the curriculum first?” Zuko asked.
“Yeah. Maybe start with what the Fire Nation teaches about other nations.”
“And what they teach about themselves.”
“Exactly!” Sokka exclaimed.
They carried on discussing political matters until dinner. After devouring his komodo chicken, he excused himself to his chambers.
—
Zuko really didn’t know why he tried. Sleeplessness reigned supreme once more. He had laid in bed for hours, eyes rarely closing, and yet again, he did not begin to drift off until the birds started chirping. It was something that was fairly recent, his lack of sleep. He wouldn’t exactly call it insomnia, but he didn’t know what else it could be named.
The Earth Kingdom doctors arrived in the early hours of the morning, just as Zuko began his daily routine. They had requested to rest before the group’s exams. Zuko couldn’t blame them: traveling by ship was no easy venture.
He dressed in silence and solitude, rejecting his servants’ wishes to assist him. He was a big boy. He could dress himself today.
He grabbed some ash-banana bread and grapes and made his way to the turtle-duck pond. He ate his bread and tossed the grapes to the turtle-ducks. Afterwards, he went back to his room and continued reading through his domestic policy documents. By the time he made it halfway through the grain tax report, he heard a knock on his door.
“Hello, Your Sparkiness,” Sokka greeted him.
“Real useful guards if they just let anyone in,” Zuko snarled playfully.
“Well, I’m not just anyone, am I?” Sokka said, winking.
Zuko felt himself grow red. “Can I help you?” he asked, clearing his throat.
Sokka “walked” in, balancing on his crutches. He made his way towards Zuko’s bed then leaned up against it. “You can, actually,” he said.
“And how’s that?”
“You can help me get some lunch. You know the cooks don’t like it when their food goes to waste. What’s the point in having the best cooks in the Fire Nation if you don’t even use them?”
“I had breakfast.”
“Oh, yeah? You didn’t just grab a handful of fruit and call it a meal?”
“Not everyone is glutinous like you, Sokka.”
Sokka feigned a gasp. “How could you? My own best friend?”
Zuko rolled his eyes. “Come on, let’s go.”
Sokka smiled and then followed Zuko to the dining hall.
The rest of Zuko’s afternoon went by relatively quickly. He left lunch after finishing half his plate and gifting the other half to Sokka, then he went back to his room to finish going over the grain tax report. It was a total of two hours before he was bombarded by Aang, Katara, Toph, and Suki. He found that they wouldn’t let him work for too long consecutively.
It took another hour before the doctors announced that they were going to be ready soon.
Nevertheless, the closer he got to his exam, the more his stomach pained him. The more his jaw clenched. The more he lost the rhythm of his breath and found himself frantically trying to come back to it.
He didn’t like doctors, and, even more cause for concern, it seemed as though he was the only one not actually going through with talking it out with the therapist. It was fine for them— it really was— but it just wasn’t for him. Talking had never been Zuko’s strong-suit, and neither had emotional regulation, in all honesty.
When it came time for Zuko’s physical exam, his mouth was dry, and his hands were steadily shaking. He just hoped no one noticed. If the doctor did, he was nice enough to keep it to himself.
The man said the same thing as the healers from yesterday. Major electric shock. Damage to heart and possibly other internal organs. Eternal scarring.
Fantastic.
It was when Zuko neared the end of his exam that he was given a stack of papers–probably more paperwork than he had been allowed to do thus far for his title. Zuko sighed deeply, then he began filling out the health forms: general checklists, familial history forms, war injury forms, et cetera. When he finished, the doctors and their assistants sorted the papers into piles. Zuko waited with the others while the doctors looked through their forms. One by one, they went into a separate room to briefly speak with the therapist. Zuko kept his eyes firmly on the ground. He was surprised when even Toph went in to speak with her.
Finally, the therapist motioned for him to enter. He shook his head, much to Katara’s displeasure. The therapist— he really didn’t even want to learn her name— held up two pieces of paper and said, “I just want to talk to you about what you put down on these forms.”
Suddenly aware of all eyes on him, Zuko felt uncomfortable. He shrugged and entered the room.
—
It had been a week since Zuko’s little questionnaire with the therapist, Wolang. Did he feel tired? Well, no shit, considering his sister just shot him full of lightning. Had he been missing sleep? Unable to go to bed? Unable to stay asleep once he finally drifted off? Yes, but that was just stress. Was he ridden with guilt, worthlessness, and cynicism? Those were just staples of his personality. He may not have been happy, but Agni , “depressed?” Wasn’t that taking it a little bit too far?
“I don’t need therapy,” Zuko had said. “I need sleep.” He’d admit he was an insomniac, maybe. That much could possibly make sense.
Wolang had nodded gently and gave Zuko a vitamin that supposedly would help him— melatonin, she had called it.
And so here Zuko was, lying in bed once again after taking one of the disgustingly chalky pills he’d been given. It had been an hour, and so far, nothing had changed. It was a night like all the nights this week had been: wait until nightfall, take a pill, lie in bed, and hopelessly stare at the ceiling. He was beginning to grow restless— his legs almost commanding him to get up and do something . To move .
He never managed to. Truth be told, he felt frozen— trapped in his bed. He didn’t know what he feared so much to be as paralyzed between his sheets as he was, yet paralyzed he was. Once or twice, he would scream into his pillow, begging the relentless agitation to let up.
Maybe he was broken.
—
“I just don’t think I need a shrink or some drugs to help me, you know?” Zuko said, throwing a grape to the turtle-ducks. Mai had started coming around the palace regularly, and Zuko couldn’t be more pleased. Well, he probably could, but he knew himself well enough by now to know that this was the best he was going to get.
“No one knows you better than yourself,” Mai replied. She threw a grape in the pond.
“Right now, all I know is that this stupid wound had better heal— and quickly.”
“You can’t rush it, Zuko. You need to listen to the doctors’ orders.”
“Weren’t you just telling me that I know better than the doctors?”
“Uh, no. I said you know yourself better than the therapist does. I said nothing about saying ‘fuck all’ to the doctors and just doing whatever you want to do. Although, Agni knows you’ll do that too.”
Zuko felt a small smile play on his lips. “I’ve missed you,” he admitted.
It was Mai’s turn to smile. “I’ve missed you too.”
—
It took two days for Mai to change her mind about Zuko speaking to the therapist. All she had to do was spend a little bit more time with him. The combination of lack of sleep and lack of self-agency had been brewing inside of him, and before he knew it, he found himself blowing up at the doctors, at the servants, at his friends, and finally, at Mai.
Zuko wasn’t stupid. He knew she wouldn’t tolerate his angry outbursts much longer.
He didn’t know why he was picking arguments with his girlfriend, but he just couldn’t stop it to save his life. Every small annoyance, every irritability, every inconvenience felt like they were just adding up on top of him. It wasn’t a matter of if he would snap…it was a matter of when .
Just like the straw that broke the alpaca-camel’s back.
No matter what he said, he just couldn’t convince the doctors to waive his bed rest. He was allowed to hang out with his friends at lunch or at the turtle-duck pond, sure, but that was the extent. Zuko knew that more and more responsibilities were piling up: a nation didn’t just run itself. If he didn’t start seriously working now, then he might fall behind and never catch up.
The truth was, Zuko had been sneaking out at night. He had been going to the Fire Lord’s chambers, or more specifically, the office. Just being there was…bizarre. First of all, there was the fact that he had never really been allowed in as a child, so this was the first time he could take everything in, albeit by candlelight. Second of all, a little bit of fear still played in Zuko’s heart anytime he did anything related to his father. He didn’t think he was quite ready to completely take over. To sleep where his father slept? To sit where his father sat? He felt like an imposter.
Lastly, the room had been kept neat and tidy. It’s strange, Zuko thought. The last person who had been in there had been using the room to destroy the world, but everything remained as though it were just any regular day. The scrolls on foreign policy, domestic relations, rebellions both abroad and internal, the grain reports… everything had just been left as it was. And here was Zuko: preparing to run the nation as though nothing had happened. As though nothing had changed.
Except, no, everything had changed, and he needed to make sure his people understood that.
—
It took him three nights to get caught— apparently Zuko hadn’t been as good at sneaking around as he thought. That third night, two hours before the sun rose, just as he was preparing to leave his room, he heard a knock at his door.
Once he opened it, he was greeted by Katara.
“What’re you doing?” she asked, wasting no time.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been getting up at the same spirits-forsaken time every night and sneaking off to do work !” she whisper-yelled.
“Calm down,” Zuko hissed. He pulled her into his room. “Clearly you already know what I’m doing, so I’m not sure why you’re here asking!”
“Have you been having problems sleeping?”
“You’re not my healer anymore, Katara.”
“Then talk to your healer!”
Zuko took a step back. He did not like angering Katara.
“Look, I’m proud of you for filling out those forms and talking to Wolang, but I think you need to take it a step further. Clearly, something is causing you to not sleep and to obsess over your work. I just think it would be in your best interests to see what your options are.”
“Katara, I’m fine . I already slept some,” he lied.
“I might not be Toph, but I’m not stupid.”
Zuko looked down at his feet.
“Stay in tonight. Please, Zuko. If not for yourself, do it for the people who care about you?”
He nodded, and he knew these next few hours would be long.
Eventually, he left his room, albeit feeling worse for wear. A little pissed off from the night’s interaction, he grabbed a report on the eastern trade route and headed on to the dining hall for breakfast. As soon as he left his room, one of the servants, Yah, stopped him.
“Fire Lord Zuko, sir, I’ve been ordered to make sure that you do not leave your bed today. Your wound is far too particular and—”
Zuko set the report down slowly and looked up at Yah. She had covered her mouth and was looking at him expectantly, fear tainting her eyes.
“I can take care of myself, Yah,” he said, his voice surprisingly level.
“Of course, my Lord, but I have very specific instructions from—”
“Screw the instructions!” Zuko said, his voice rising. He took a deep breath and looked away from Yah. She was on her knees and covering her face. He took another breath, counted to four, and breathed out. “I’m fine, Yah. And, please, just Zuko is fine.”
She didn’t move.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night…” he explained. He held out his hand to help her up, but in doing so, he made her flinch. Did he scare her that badly? Or was this a consequence of the transgressions of his ancestors? An outcome of how Ozai had treated them? Or a blatant result of Zuko’s recent snappiness?
Yah informed him, after she gathered herself enough to stand once more, that his breakfast would be brought to him. He agreed, and, in an effort to concede, he walked back to his room.
Alongside his food came Katara and Aang. Zuko suddenly wondered if she ever slept, or if she just hovered over everyone like an overprotective turtle-duck mother.
It took a fair amount of smooth talking and bartering to convince Katara that he should be allowed to do some work, even if it was just from bed. She agreed to let him have two stacks of paperwork a day for the next week. Then, they could reassess. She even got the plan covered by Zuko’s healer and doctor.
So why, then, did Zuko have papers for his educational reform plan in front of him with absolutely no concentration at all? A headache pounded behind his eyes. The papers were taunting him— tormenting him. Each day was worse than the last, and the more Zuko was cooped up in his room, the more the negative thoughts came about.
His mind kept going back to his last Agni Kai— hopefully the last one in modern Fire Nation history. Thoughts of Azula screaming, crying, and laughing all at the same time flooded his brain. Thoughts of her calling out to their mother haunted him.
What was she seeing?
More importantly, Zuko feared that his friends would connect Azula’s mental health with his own. While he didn’t feel perfect, he was nowhere close to losing his mind. But, still, everytime they mentioned her, Zuko could hear the group’s hush-hush. He could feel the silence, the awkwardness, creeping up.
Zuko’s thoughts also kept wandering back to Sokka. His hair. His jawline. His lips. Even his smell. And, for some reason, they crept towards Jet. Jet, who had been Zuko’s first kiss.
Jet, who was dead.
After that, his thoughts would bring him to death. His mother’s— faked. Lu Ten’s— real. His own— impending. Death preoccupied his mind more often than not, he came to realize. Eventually, though, his brain would loop back around. Back to fire. Back to Azula. Sometimes, that fire would turn into his father’s and suddenly everything would be too loud and bright and too much to handle and Zuko couldn’t find his breath and he just—
He would grab his wrist with his dominant hand and press burning fingers to it. Not too long, no. Just long enough to quell the thoughts.
In a sick, strange way, Zuko was glad no one was around for those moments of weakness. In an even sicker, stranger way, he resented it.
—
After the week was up, Zuko was allowed to move around the palace. Despite the newfound freedom, he was hesitant to abandon his chambers. It was with Sokka’s insistence that Zuko left the comfort and old familiarity of his room. They spent most of their time at the turtle-duck pond.
It seemed Sokka was the only one not too busy to continue fussing over Zuko. The rest, however, were purging Zuko’s council of its Ozai supporters and sympathizers. So, why, then, did he feel so bitter that they weren’t there? And why did he feel so guilty over his bitterness? So fucked up inside?
Why, of all things, did he feel grateful to have Sokka all to himself?
After a few days of each other’s company, they were laid out next to each other under the tree, his mother’s favorite tree, staring at the turtle-ducks, when Sokka cleared his throat. “I— uh, thank you,” he said.
“I didn’t do anything,” Zuko said, dumbfounded.
“It’s been…hard watching everyone move around and enjoy— well, I mean, I know they’re not enjoying themselves since we just ended a war because the battle’s really only just now begun. What I mean to say is…” he took a deep breath. Zuko stared, afraid to say anything. “I’m…useless. I can’t contribute to anything, at all. I’m just…and I’ve always been this way, you know? I’ve always pretended like I was helping more than I really was. It was the only thing I could do, really, not being able to bend and being a shitty warrior for so long and—”
“Sokka,” Zuko spoke up, his mouth dry.
“Sorry, I’m— that was a tangent. I’ll get back on track.” He took another breath. “It’s been nice hanging out with you these past few days.”
A smile tugged at Zuko’s lips. He almost didn’t recognize it. He felt…okay with Sokka. Better than normal, that was. But Zuko’s normal was already so low— he wasn’t sure what his baseline for “okay” should be.
After Sokka’s confession, they went their separate ways. Zuko made his way through the gardens towards his chambers.
Crunch , he heard behind him on his good side.
“Sokka?” Zuko turned around. Did he forget something?
Suddenly, he was face to face with someone decked head to toe in black. They had a black mask on. Zuko immediately assumed one of his defensive stances. The figure moved forward. He backed up and was met with a dark, opaque bag covering his head.
Zuko shot fire out of his hands and twisted around, attempting to take out the assailants.
He heard a voice say, “Damn, I didn’t know he’d put up this much of a fight!”
“The imposter is a weakling, Semu. Yrizo, hurry up!”
Someone— Semu, Zuko assumed— grabbed his left arm from behind. In a similar fashion, the man who spoke second grabbed his right arm.
“Say ‘nighty-night,’ imposter,” a female voice, Yrizo, said. He felt a huge pain on the top of his head, and his world went black.
—
“Zuko! Zuko! Zuko!”
He heard the screaming, yelling, pleading, but he couldn’t reply. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t see. Couldn’t move.
What had they done to him?
—
“Zuko, please wake up. Zuko, come on. It’s me , Zuko. It’s Sokka. Zuko, come on, buddy!”
—
“Nephew, you are stronger than this, and I know it. You will wake up, Zuko. You have battled worse and come out on top. Please , Zuko.”
—
It was bright when Zuko awoke. It took him a minute to realize where he was, then it hit him: the palace infirmary. He closed his eyes. He was right back to where he was less than a month ago. Was he ever going to get off bed rest?
“Hey, you’re awake,” he heard Mai’s voice say. He felt a hand brush through his hair carefully, then stop before it got to the back of his head.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Some Ozai-supporters got into the palace grounds. They tracked you down, then hit you over the head with a really big rock. Like, a huge one. We didn’t think you were going to wake up, you know. We were really worried.”
He sat up and opened his eyes. “Well, I’m awake.”
“I see that.” She rolled her eyes. Then, she smiled. Just for a moment, but Zuko saw it. “Anyways,” she continued, “it looks like you’ve got a concussion. That means you have. Got. To. Take. It. Easy. I’m serious, Zuko. No sneaking out at night to read through some boring documents.”
“I’m tired of taking it easy!” he snarled. As if on command, his head pounded. He shut his eyes and rubbed them with his fingers, left hand lingering on his scar.
“See?” Mai said. “You need to calm down. You’re only going to make it worse.”
Against his instincts, Zuko stood up. “I am calm,” he hissed. He evaded her touch.
“Zuko.”
“I’m going back to my room. I don’t need this.”
“Zuko, don’t you get it?! You can’t . You’re not allowed to go anywhere alone. People just tried to assassinate you!”
“Won’t you protect me?”
She rolled her eyes again. “You have to have an actual guard. Several of them, we’ve decided.”
“Who’s ‘we?’”
“The people who love you, dumbass,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips. She pulled him into a hug.
“And who’s that?” he asked.
She pushed him gently in response.
“I’ll go get your uncle.”
—
It took nearly a week to convince everyone to let him go back to his room. His stitches weren’t close to healed, they reasoned. But he didn’t understand why that meant he had to sleep on the hard infirmary bed and be cooped up in there all the time. The only good part of the infirmary was that Sokka was there often due to his leg.
After Zuko was released, he spent the majority of the time wandering around the palace, evading his guards and letting himself get lost. He was strictly forbidden from doing any work for the foreseeable future.
He was walking to his chambers when he overheard the whispering. He saw two servants huddled close. He tried his best to concentrate and focused on the hearing in his good ear.
“You know,” Pila says, “I think he’s just an ungrateful brat. So many people have spent their time making sure he stays alive. And he’s damn lucky to be alive.”
“I agree. All he does is walk around here moping about. His advisors, the ones that are left at least, say he’s barely touched his work. He’s still hiding behind that injury. I just can’t believe—” their voices faded as they walked away.
Zuko felt something snap in him. He was lucky to be alive? Lucky to have suffered this much?
He struggled to get back to his chambers, apparently deeply lost. He finally made his way down a semi-familiar hallway when he heard Sokka say, “Zuko? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine,” he replied, trying to fight back the bark in his voice. “Just a little lost.”
“Want me to walk you back to your room?”
“Sure.”
They walked in near silence, save for Sokka attempting to tell a few jokes here and there. Once they reached Zuko’s door, the two guards positioned there stepped away.
“Weren’t you supposed to have a guard with you?”
“What?”
“How did you get lost if you’re supposed to have a guard with you?”
“Sokka…”
“Do I even have to say it, Zuko?”
“Say what?”
Sokka shrugged and looked away.
“Good night, Sokka,” Zuko replied.
“Night, Zuko.”