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In hindsight, Sokka shouldn't have ignored the signs.
After all, he was the smart one, the Plan Guy. Smart people are observant and logical, no matter what. They pick apart every little thing and prepare for any and every situation, and they don't let their feelings get in the way of their thinking.
...But the last two months had been so great, and Sokka had never felt happier, and he thought it was normal to get stomach cramps and bleed a little from time to time because Katara said that pregnancy was hard and was going to be especially hard for him and she's already had two children with Aang so far and she's a fucking healer, for crying out loud, so she must know everything, right?
He shouldn't have ignored the signs. He should have said something to Zuko, his husband and his Alpha, or- or Nurse Lazra, who'd been assigned to take care of him ever since he found out he was pregnant. Should've been smart enough to realize that pregnancy was so, so much harder than Katara said, and babies were incredibly delicate, and during pregnancy, he was even more delicate, because maybe if he were smarter-
"Fuck!"
Maybe if he were smarter, he wouldn't be clutching at his cramping stomach while kneeling on the restroom floor's limestone tiles, in his blood-stained robes.
Everything seemed so normal.
Sokka woke up to an empty bed and the sun high in the sky, beaming its warm light through his and Zuko's room. He got ready and put on his signature blue robes while trying to remember which ministers he'd be meeting with in the afternoon. He ate his food while holding up pleasant conversations with some of the guards. He did his work, read some scrolls, and strolled around the palace during his free time, until...
Until a sharp, twisting pang of pain ran through his body, and he paused in place, breathing heavily as he tried to wait the discomfort out. Until he became aware that the pain wouldn't dissipate at all. Until he noticed how his undergarments felt warm and wet, and hot streaks of something were running down his thighs.
When a particularly painful pang struck through him, it clicked in his mind that something was wrong, and he rushed off to his room, stumbling and stifling whimpers of pain all the while. He ran into the connected restroom and tried his hardest to strip himself of his robe, but everything hurt, and he felt so dizzy, and there was a large splotch of dark red on his clothing, and why was he bleeding, why was his stomach hurting, why-
—No, there was no point in asking why. Not when he already knew what was happening, even as dazed as he was.
"Pregnancy is already hard to endure, even for the healthiest of people, Sokka." Katara's voice is uncharacteristically gentle as she delivers the worst news of his life. "But it's going to be much more difficult for you. Due to your overuse of heat suppressants, scent blockers, and emotion regulation herbs throughout your formative teen years, your immune system is drastically weaker than most. That makes the risk of miscarrying much higher for you, Sokka. I know it's hard to hear, but I'd much prefer you know what might happen rather than have to deal with it without knowing what's wrong."
Sokka continues to weep, something he'd done more this week alone than he ever has in his entire life. Spirits, he feels so unbelievably stupid. "If I had known that- that what I was doing would make my life so hard in the future, I wouldn't have taken them, I would have ripped those stupid scent blockers right off and stopped trying to suppress myself, but- but I didn't- I didn't know. Tui and La, this is all my fault!"
"My dear, you are not at fault for this," Nurse Lazra coos, releasing a calming scent to try to subdue his tears. "When you purchased your suppressants, your blockers, your medication, did any elder ever tell you the consequences?"
"No," Sokka sniffles, allowing himself to pause his cries, even if for a quick moment. "At least, they didn't tell me it'd make me practically infertile," he tries to joke, but it comes out pathetically flat. " All they told me was that it'd weaken my scent and urges, and at the time, I was okay with that. But they never... they never said anything about pregnancy and lowered immune systems..."
He begins to sob once more, and even with the constant words of comfort from his sister and Lazra, he still feels awful.
As he holds onto the wet patch of his robe and gags at the blood that seeps through and onto his palms, he squeezes out, "Tui and La, it's so red. My clothes are so fucking red. They're- they're supposed to be blue, not..."
How is he worrying about colors more than losing his kid?
(And where is Zuko?)
When he realizes how strange he is for focusing on something so trivial, the absurdity of his situation hits him all at once, and he can't help but crack a smile, which turns into a quiet giggle; then it shifts to another, louder one. And before he knows it, his chuckles have become a loud, crackling laughter, and he wheezes, despite how painful it is—all while he grasps his wet clothes with shaking, bloodied hands.
He should probably be crying right now, he thinks. Or screaming for Zuko. Or maybe both at the same time. Hell, maybe even summoning a nearby guard to alert his husband to come the fuck over here right now and help him, please and thank you.
(But his Alpha's not here because he's a busy Fire Lord, and the guards are on their break right now, and Sokka's miscarrying all alone, and his clothes are red when his signature color is supposed to be blue.)
Instead, he's laughing deliriously, borderline maniacally, choking out, "This is going to be a huge fucking pain to clean out later."
He's not sure how long he's been planted there on the bathroom floor.
All he knows is that after losing feeling in both of his legs more than twice, he finally gets up and takes his robe off, leaving him in nothing but his soiled, reddened undergarments. For a good second or so, he stands there, swaying in place as he contemplates taking a quick shower, pampering himself up again, and forgetting this ever happened.
(Forgetting how he's failed, yet again, to protect. To keep something, someone, safe.)
Instead, he takes his underwear off as well, lets it fall to the wet floor, and watches his clothing soak up the pool of blood. He then walks out into the bedroom and cracks the door open ever so slightly to peek his head out, all while sporting a calm and collected smile on his face. "Excuse me," Sokka speaks to the nearest person, a Kyoshi Warrior, in an unshaking voice, "Would you please bring Zuko here? If he asks why, tell him it's an emergency."
The woman looks concerned for a moment, but straightens up and gives him a low bow before rushing along to the conference room. Sokka watches her go, and only closes the door once she turns a corner and disappears from his sight.
Then, he looks down at himself, and the flaky streaks of blood that coat his inner thighs, and takes notice of his stomach bump, which is still there, and will probably go away after a few weeks, like Katara said when she was talking about miscarriages and what to expect, and...
And he feels so drained, so empty, and most of all, so guilty.
(Why is it that he's so bad at everything? So bad at being a warrior, being a protector, at being an Omega-)
He stumbles back to the bathroom to draw himself a bath and begins to rub off the drying blood from his hands.
And then, he cries.
When Zuko finally arrives, Sokka's already partly submerged in the bathwater and has already finished Crying Session #1, ready to start with #2.
"Sokka?" Zuko calls out from the bedroom door. "Sokka, are you alright? Suya told me it was an emergency. Can I come in?"
"It's unlocked," Sokka turns to yell from the restroom, and winces at his raggedy voice.
Sokka turns back around and ignores the sound of the door opening and closing, the sound of footsteps, and the way Zuko's normally rich scent is stained with worry.
He especially ignores the way Zuko, upon entering the restroom and taking one glance at the floor, immediately lets out, "Oh, fuck," in the saddest voice ever.
Here comes the waterworks.
"I'm sorry," Sokka shakily exhales, trying (and failing) to blink back tears. "I'm so, so sorry, Zuko, but- but I lost-"
He chokes on a wail. "I lost our kid, and it's all my fault."
"No, no, Sokka," Zuko instantly rushes toward him, and Sokka rests his cheek in Zuko's palm. "None of this is your fault at all, sweetie."
"My body's too weak to carry life because I was too dumb not to think about the future when I was younger," Sokka whimpers. "How could this be anything but my fault? I was ignorant, and I ignored the signs, and our baby paid the price!"
"Signs?"
Sokka sniffled pathetically, feeling sick to his stomach. "...I've had cramps before. Light and not-so-light ones, but never painful enough for me to feel worried about it. I'd bleed sometimes, too, but- but it was never a lot, and I didn't want to be dramatic or waste Nurse Lazra's time, and pregnancy is difficult, so I just ignored it. I thought it was..."
"...Normal," Zuko finishes quietly, and Sokka gives a shaky nod.
"In my mind, it made sense, but now that I've said it out loud, I can hear the stupidity," Sokka laughs, which quickly devolves to sobbing. "I'm so sorry, Zuko."
"Don't apologize for this, it wasn't your fault," Zuko repeats softly, and leans down to kiss his forehead. "We'll get through this together, Sokka. No matter what."
"But I failed," Sokka moans. "I failed as a husband and Omega, Zuko. I'm the worst person you could've married—I can't even provide you with kids."
"Don't you say that about yourself, Sokka," Zuko shushes him. "I didn't marry you because I wanted an heir, I married you because I love you, with my entire heart and soul, and I always will, regardless of the hardships we face along the way. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, love. You're the only one who can't see how amazing you are."
Sokka weeps, so completely confused and overwhelmed. "Why aren't you upset at me?"
Zuko gives him a sad frown. "I'm sad over our loss, Sokka, but I would never be upset with you about it. Would you blame me if the roles were reversed?"
Sokka quickly sits up and reaches for Zuko's hand. "No, Zuko, of course not!"
Zuko chuckles, and Sokka can feel it reverberating through his body. "Then why would I be mad at you?"
Sokka purses his lips. "That's... different."
"Sokka," Zuko sighs, ready to try to convince him all over again, but Sokka releases a tired chuckle.
"I know, I know, sweetheart," Sokka whispers, smiling as he looks up at his husband, who smiles back instantly. "Thank you for not, you know. Being mad."
"I would never be."
"Thank you for reminding me, then," Sokka sniffles, and kisses Zuko's cheek. "I needed one, anyway."
"I'll be there for you anytime you need one, then."