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Chapter Text

July

Zuko approached the door; its paint a faded and chipped royal blue. The apprehension had settled deep in his gut, a knot in his throat as he tried to swallow. He pulled the sleeves of his unzipped hoodie down over his hands to worry at the cuffs (despite it being summer Zuko always needed the comfort of full length sleeves to pull on and fidget). He felt like a criminal, sneaking away from Uncle like this, lying about needing to do errands in town. But it needed to be done, Zuko knew that Uncle would feel betrayed by him soon, and he needed to do this on his own besides. Uncle had given enough of himself to Zuko, and here he was, finding an out before going behind his back. With a quick check that his fringe was appropriately placed, and that his clothes were decent, or at least as decent as a hoodie and jeans could be, Zuko steeled himself, knocked on the door, took a step back, and waited.

The door opened to the face of a woman who looked about the same age as him. Of course, this being a student flat, and Zuko being a few years older than the typical first year, he had been expecting someone younger. But this may make things easier. Or at least a little less awkward. As she looked up towards Zuko's face, her eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she broke into a smile and stepped back, her wide yoga bottoms swishing in the breeze.

"Hello, Zuko here." he said with an awkward little wave that he regretted immediately.

"Zuko Oshiro, right? Here for a flat viewing. You did see that there's dogs in the flat as well?" 

"Right. Yes."

Zuko's nerves still wouldn't let up the grip they had on his throat, looked like one word sentences were about all he was going to manage unless he wanted to be clearing his throat a lot more often than would be polite. Or normal. 

She stepped back and opened the door fully to allow Zuko in. 

"I'm Suki, she/her." (right, pronouns were a thing)

Zuko cleared his throat before stiltedly croaking out his own pronouns. 

"Umm, he/him."

This was met with another bright smile and a bounce in her step as Suki continued into the flat. She led Zuko through to the shared living space where a massive Saint Bernard ("Appa, he's an absolute lump, but the sweetest thing" Suki provided.) was sprawling across a three seater sofa, and then through to the kitchen. The open fireplace in the living room caught Zuko's eye, a thrill of panic going up his spine, before he tore his eyes away and followed Suki through a wide archway to the kitchen/dining room. It was a large kitchen, with enough space for a dining table that could fit six. Four were already sat there.

Sat opposite each other on the far left of the long table were two who looked like siblings, matching dark skin and deep brown eyes; Katara -she/her- on the far side to Zuko looked to be a couple of years younger than himself, and Sokka -he/him- the brother helpfully provided who was sat with his back to Zuko but turned around with an elbow draped across the back of his chair to address him, looked to be Zuko's own age, his biceps on show through a sleeveless tank top. Great, he'd be living with a 'bro' kinda guy, Zuko's thoughts supplied in a deadpan. A bald kid, just about as pale as Zuko himself, probably only 18 years old, with grey eyes and geometric tattoos running the length of their arms and disappearing up into their sleeves, introduced themself as Aang -he/they- and was sat to the right of Katara (on her left), with their arm spread lazily across her shoulder and a dopey smile on their face. Toph -she/they- was sat next to Aang opposite the empty seat left for Zuko once Suki had sat down in the middle seat. This left everyone on Zuko's left, he was going to have to sit a little twisted in his seat to be able to make out what was going on. Toph was… blind? Her eyes were clouded over and unfocused, and her straight fringe was hanging down over them. Zuko briefly wondered how it didn't get in her eyes and tickle her face. It was hard to tell how old she was, she looked short but mature, although also somehow feral if the grin was anything to go by. There was a curious looking dog sat next to Toph. The golden lab-cross looked at Zuko with a disturbing mixture of intelligence and vacancy, it's too-large ears pointed at Zuko like satellite dishes trying to read him and pick up information. Or dirty secrets.

"That's Momo, he's my seeing-eye dog."

"He's an agent of chaos is what he is." Katara muttered. 

Sokka crooned "Don't listen to her Momo. You're perfect."

"I think he is a little chaotic, but in a good way!" chirped Aang in an apparent attempt to keep the peace between the siblings.

Suki was sat next to Zuko, her patient eyes and calm smile felt like they could see right through Zuko, but she wasn't the one who jumped straight into it when he finally took his seat, wiping his sweaty hands on his ripped black skinny jeans, Toph was.

"Name's Zuko Oshiro, right? That the Oshiro from Oshiro oil? You're loaded, what are you doing slumming it with the rest of us in shared flats for students? Wanting to see how the other half live?" (There was a quiet murmur at that, as if trying not to be heard, of something along the lines of "you're one to talk", but he couldn't see or hear clearly enough to tell who said it with everyone to his left.) 

Well that was blunt, and enough of a shock that Zuko pulled himself out of wherever it is he goes when he's feeling anxious, and he snapped out a retort without really thinking.

"My father is loaded. I'm not."

Katara cut in here. She'd been staring at Zuko, but not like people usually stare at him, with curiosity or barely concealed disgust. No, she looked at him with murder in her dark brown eyes, a cold, hating stare, and her voice was just as filled with those same emotions.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

It felt like an accusation and put Zuko on edge enough to just bite out a blunt answer. He didn't have the energy to hide this shit anymore. And the fact that they had all introduced themselves with pronouns and were wearing a variety of different pride bracelets or badges spurred Zuko to be honest for once in his 21 years of life. He leaned back in his seat, letting go of the hoodie strings that he'd been fiddling with, and dropped his hands to his lap.

"My father disowned, disinherited, and kicked me out for kissing a boy when I was 13. I live with my uncle but the commute would be too much to go to the uni here. So I need a cheap place to live. It's not like I want to be associated with a bastard like Ozai."

It came out like a challenge and Zuko immediately regretted it. What he'd said was only a slight diversion from the truth. Zuko was surprised to hear variations of an assent that they'd heard enough and had made up their minds ripple through those sat at the table. Except for Katara. Still stone faced. Arms crossed over her sea green crop top. She made it clear that the decision would have to be put to a vote. And not while the person they were discussing was present. Suki got up and offered to finish giving Zuko a tour of the flat and to answer any questions he might have. He made a point to leave them with a mention of how he's quiet, doesn't party or smoke, and cleans up after himself. He really needed this flat, none of the others were even close to being in his price range (probably because he was only getting a box room).

Once Suki was done showing Zuko around, he was greeted back at the front door by Sokka. The man was tall and broad, with a smile to match. He didn't flinch from looking Zuko in the face, not trying to stop himself from staring or just plain avoiding looking, both just as bad as the other and just as noticeable. 

"Just need to borrow Suki for a second. Wait right here." Not that he was given much of a chance to confirm or deny that he would do just that before Sokka dragged Suki back to the kitchen. Unfortunately Zuko didn't miss the quick ass grab that Suki gave as they rounded the corner. With him left alone to his thoughts Zuko was suddenly flooded with the realisation that he had basically just come out to five complete strangers within not even minutes but seconds of meeting them. Logically - based on the bi pride bracelet that Sokka wore (he and Suki also wore necklaces with a matching flag he didn't recognise that was blue, red, and black. Zuko supposed that was more likely to be some nerdy thing though, due to the yellow pi symbol in the middle), the pan pride colours that filled part of Aang's tattoos, and the genderfluid(? He thinks that's what it was…) and pronouns badges that Toph wore - he knew that he should be safe, that he wasn't going to be punished for who he is, there should be no anger, no violence from these people. That still didn't help the growing pit in his stomach, the anticipation of the blow back that he was used to receiving. Luckily, before that ball of anxiety grew so big it choked him, Sokka came bursting back out from the kitchen with that same broad grin on his face. No vitriol. Just an exclamation that the group had voted to let Zuko sign the lease and move in with them to the fourth bedroom. It was the smallest room, hence the lower rent, one of the big (only) reasons that he was actually going to be able to afford the place. The news came as such a shock to Zuko that he just stood there, mute, fingers still gripping his hoodie zipper. Zuko stood there for long enough that the grin started to slide off of Sokka's face, and his arms that had been held up as if in celebration of Zuko moving in were lowered and stuffed in the pockets of his jorts. Hurriedly, Zuko stumbled through his assent and gratitude to Sokka and the whole flat, desperate to put the grin back on his face properly (he just didn't look right without it).

Formalities were went through in the kitchen with everyone (except Katara) and, once done, Zuko left feeling one step closer to the end of everything as he knew it. It was both the best and the worst he'd ever felt.

Zuko actually did end up running one or two errands on his way back to the bus station, just so that he could have something he wouldn't have to lie to uncle Iroh about. The bus ride home was long but at least Zuko could listen to music and shut the world out for a while. He took a seat at the rear, put an earbud in his right ear and leaned back, pushing into the dusty fabric of the seat and let his head fall left towards the window, not quite close enough that his brain was rattled out of his head by the vibrations of the bus, but close enough that he could feel a comforting rumble. He turned his face to the scenery, enjoying watching it go by in a blur, and let his head wander with the music. Unfortunately, his mind kept bringing itself back to what was waiting at home.

Uncle was too nice, too kind, Zuko didn't deserve so much. And Uncle definitely deserved more. It broke Zuko's heart knowing what he was doing. But it had to be done. He'd had enough of staying quiet, enough of letting people get away with murder just because of who they are.

As the bus pulled up to Zuko's stop, he reluctantly stepped down onto the pavement and started the all too short walk to The Jasmine Dragon and his and Uncle's flat above it. The stairs were as a mountain in front of him the effort it took to make himself reach the top, to be confronted with the fact that he was the coward that his father had always told him he was.

Unlocking the door as quietly as he could, Zuko tried to slip in without Uncle noticing. Despite himself, he couldn't hold back muttering an 'I'm home' from habit, somehow hoping that Uncle didn't hear. No such luck however, Iroh cheerily called out a 'Welcome back'. He was comfortably sat in a plush armchair, his traditional summer yukata had a subtle cherry blossom design down the left side, which, by the smell in the room, was in an apparent attempt to match with his tea. Or vice versa. The cup of tea was in one hand and in the other was a book, probably a cheesy romance. Iroh never could see the point in reading a book that didn't paint an optimistic and happy view of the world. He looked up from his book, face crinkled with a smile, and genially enquired into Zuko's day as always. Offered him tea as always. Offered him care and support as always. And Zuko could hardly stomach it.

When they finally had sat down for dinner and headed their separate ways to bed, Zuko surveyed his room. Looked at his pathetic collection of belongings. And realised that slipping away to the new flat in just under a month's time was going to be depressingly easy. He had a half full wardrobe of mostly black clothing, interspersed with the occasional red or maroon. Outside of clothing he had his laptop, his mp3 player and earbuds, his phone, and, well nothing else really. A single photo frame, stiffly posed of himself, his sister, his mum, his cousin, uncle Iroh, and the ripped corner leaving a headless sixth figure, stared up at him from his desk. Taken so long ago that Zuko was barely recognisable, and not just because it was before he got the scar. He could pretend he was happy back then, before everything went to shit. More so than it already was at the time anyway. He'd lost so much since then, and this time it really was going to be his fault that he was losing more.

Chapter Text

August

A month went by fast and soon Zuko found himself stuffing a sports bag with his clothes, his backpack with his electronics, and the photo, out of the frame because that felt too much like stealing, which was a step further than he was willing to go (these days, and from Uncle anyway). It was midmorning, Uncle was down in the shop, and it was Zuko's day off. He left a note on the coffee table saying how sorry he was but that this was something that he needed to do and that he understood that Iroh wouldn't want to see him again after this so he'd moved out. That just left having to slip down the stairs and out the back without alerting Uncle to his presence, before catching a bus towards town centre.

Eventually he found himself approaching that faded blue door with no less guilt than last time, nor anxiety, but for different reasons this time at least. He let himself in, dumped his stuff on the bed and then headed out again. This time he really did have a few errands to run. Buying bedding for one, how he didn't think of that until walking into the room with a naked mattress he'll never know. Getting uni supplies for another, this was going to be an expensive day. But also, he had an appointment to set up with the police. He'll never be a fan of them, but, unfortunately with how the justice system is currently set up, he needs them now.

When he got to the police station, he entered the building and approached the front desk to make his enquiry. Got asked to sit and wait for an available officer to come and take his statement and interview him. So he sat. And he waited.

It was uncomfortable, to be sure, but he knew the questions they were asking were necessary. They needed as clear a picture as they could manage before they could move forward with the charges, but as the interview went on Zuko was pulling more and more into himself, into his head, getting more and more that light-headed, floaty feeling, warning him that this subject is dangerous. Warning him that his father is dangerous. Repeating all that had happened in his life to this point was hard, was taking its toll, was too much. He wasn't even noticing how close he was to breaking down until the dam broke. Hadn't even realised he had been crying until he looked down and saw the puddle slowly growing on the table beneath him. One word was all it took really; "dishonourable". He supposed it was the metaphorical straw that broke the camel's back. And it wasn't even like the officer had really said it to him, they were just repeating back things that Zuko had said, making sure they were being accurate.

But it was too much and the officers could see that, and took pity on him (of course they would pity him, he was pathetic, worth nothing more than people's pity or disgust) and offered to make a house call the following day to finish the interview if Zuko would be more comfortable with that. Once he'd managed to pull himself together he agreed. Not that he'd be much more comfortable in the strange new flat than in the police station, but at least it would be slightly more neutral ground.

Halfway to the bus stop, Zuko felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. There was only one person it could be. He'd never been good with phone calls, and didn't have the energy to talk, especially after that interview, so he cut the call. And again twice more by the time he got back to the flat.

When he finally did get back to the flat, he put his clothes in the chest of drawers. His laptop and uni supplies on the desk. And the picture under his pillow. The room was cramped, the bed (a single) stopping the door from fully opening, and the floor space was limited to the spaces between furniture. Perhaps if he moved things around it'd be more convenient.

His few belongings now unpacked, Zuko didn't know what to do with himself. He felt awkward in his own space. It didn't feel like his. He made the bed and collapsed onto it. Curling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arm around them he let his head fall forward and tried not to think. Tried not to feel. Tried not to be.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by something landing on his left shoulder. He tried not to flinch, he really did, but he couldn't help trying to assume a defensive stance, even curled up on the bed as he was. Snapping his head up and turning he saw Sokka, a concerned expression marring his face despite his apparent attempt at being jovial and light-hearted.

"You alright there, buddy? Lost in thought? You didn't seem to hear me. I just got in and came up to ask if you needed a hand unpacking or bringing any of your stuff up but it looks like you're all good on that front." Sokka gave a small chuckle at this point, ducking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. The gesture brought attention to the tattoos wrapped around his biceps and to the silver piercings adorning his ears, now glinting in the light coming in through the curtainless window. He quickly recovered his chipper nature and continued, "Suki, Katara, and I own a car, so if you're ever in need of a lift somewhere or got something big that you need the space for, just hit me up. We could even discuss getting you added to the insurance at some point if you can drive. The rest of the GAang are downstairs, we're gonna order pizza if you wanna join? Our treat to celebrate you moving in."

He finished his little speech with a much more convincing grin and mischievous twinkle in his eye before continuing.

"What's your favourite topping and we'll place the order? Come down when you're ready."

"Umm, I'll eat whatever you folks want to order, but I guess my favourite is diavolo."

"I knew it! You can tell a lot about a person from their favourite pizza topping!"

He continued making various excited exclamations and gesticulations along a similar vein, seemingly continuing the conversation to himself, as he turned away to leave Zuko's room and head down the stairs, presumably to join the rest of their flatmates down in the shared living space.

The unexpected, and frankly weird, interruption had (somehow) successfully pulled Zuko out of the spiral he had been about to go down. He only needed a few moments to gather himself before heading down, stopping by the bathroom he now shared with Sokka and Suki to check he didn't look a mess. He did. He looked like shit. The breakdown at the station had left him with red rimmed eyes and dried tear streaks down his cheeks. His usually fluffy side fringe was plastered to his forehead from dried sweat and leaning his head in his arms moments earlier. Luckily the messy bun was still the right kind of messy, and he only needed to wash his face and fix his fringe, arranging it just so, so that it covered the maximum amount of scar across his left eye and cheek while not looking quite as emo as he had in high-school.

Apparently he took longer than intended in the bathroom because by the time he joined the GAang, pizza had already arrived, and they were all enthusiastically tucking in. Sokka more so than anyone else. Aang and Katara were sharing what looked like a veggie supreme, wrapped around each other on the large sofa. Toph was beside the two, and had something indescribably over topped and seemed to be relishing in the mess they were making. Sokka was digging into his meatlover's, stretched across the smaller sofa, facing the stairs, and paused when he noticed Zuko coming down, waving him over with his signature grin before sliding over the only closed box left. Zuko sat next to him as he turned and swung one of his legs down to the floor, leaving the other up on the sofa, sitting on his own foot. This left Zuko trying to press himself into the arm of the sofa to try and leave at least a little breathing space between the two men, but still their knees were knocking together.

They started chatting about the upcoming term and their subjects. Sokka was about to start a Master's in mechanical engineering, (he'd had a direct entry into 2nd year) for which Zuko definitely did not envy him. He kept mentioning how lucky he was that it looked like at the very least his first term back didn't have any classes before 11am. He'd earned the nickname Snoozles from Toph for having nearly missed so many 9 and 10am classes his first three years. Katara was about to start a nursing degree for which Toph had given her the nickname Sugar Queen, which Zuko figures is either a reference to sugar placebo pills or 'a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down'. Aang was about to start a religious studies degree (a year early), and Zuko had yet to manage to make the connection to how that had earned him the nickname Twinkle Toes. Toph was also starting uni a year early (apparently there were several geniuses in this flat) and their degree took Zuko by surprise, he didn't really peg them as the jewellery making type, though the focus in metal work seemed strangely apt. Admittedly he barely knew them, but what he did know led to him picturing something much more… chaotic. Not that he knew what that would be. Suki wasn't here, spending the week at her girlfriend's according to Sokka, but he informed Zuko that she was the only one in the flat not studying at the uni, she owned a martial arts studio (The Kyoshi Warriors) and apparently that made Toph respect her enough to not desecrate her name with one of their, as they put it, 'insultingly endearing' nicknames. When Zuko mentioned that he'd be studying English lit., Toph immediately jumped on the apparently hilarious nickname of Sparky. Because all you need for a degree like that is Spark Notes. Obviously.

Eventually the chatter landed on Toph asking "The inevitable question when pizza is involved. Pineapple. Opinion?". Why did it feel like there was more to that question than what was said? It made Zuko hesitate to answer.

"Umm, it works really well on Hawaiian?" 

The sentence finished as more of a question as Zuko became aware that he apparently had just made a rather controversial statement. Sokka's wide grin somehow managed to grow at that.

"A man of taste! Finally I have someone who agrees with me!"

The rest of the GAang apparently strongly disapproved of pineapple on pizza. They were wrong.

Chapter Text

August

That night as Zuko sat on his bed after actually managing to hold and sustain conversation (Even if he took a back seat. A very back seat.) for more than just a few minutes, he felt a little lighter than he had in a few months. Sure this space was cramped, but he could move the furniture while his flatmates were out tomorrow so that he wasn't disturbing anyone. Maybe if he swapped the bed with the desk so that the desk was opposite the door instead, that would help? Plus then the head of the bed would be partly under the window and Zuko could wake with the sun on his face.

He had enough space to do breathing exercises, even if he was forced to do them on the bed. It's a shame about the lack of floor space, with how he'd been feeling lately there was a high chance that breathing exercises weren't going to be enough to keep a check on his anxiety and he had actually been tempted on taking Tai Chi back up. He remembered Uncle pushing it on him in the early years after moving in with him to help with both his new balance issues and his ignited temper. He never really took to it back then, too angry and angsty, too consumed with proving himself as capable of more than his father told him he was. So he'd done the Tai Chi. Had been good at it, but had never really felt the benefits that Uncle was so adamant it could have. Probably because he applied, if anything, too much discipline to it. He sorely craved those benefits now, and perhaps taking it back up could have been a way to stay close to Uncle, make it up to him in Zuko's own head. The hall landing was wide and had a tall window running the length of it, south facing as well, would make a perfect place for morning Tai Chi, but considering Zuko literally got up with the sunrise, he'd be worried about disturbing his flatmates, if not with the light then with the noise. Even if he weren't to use any music, he'd still worry they'd hear him shuffling around and be woken up thinking there was an intruder or something.

Maybe he could talk to them about it? Who was he kidding he'd never feel comfortable enough to bring something like that up with them. They probably have a routine, a flow with each other, that he'd be stepping on no matter how little space he tries to take up. He'll probably apologise about that in the morning when he asks if he's even allowed to move the furniture. Shit, he doesn't even know when anyone gets up to be able to ask.

He was spiralling again. He should just try to go to sleep and play tomorrow by ear. He could do that. No, really, he could.

Luckily, or unluckily, he didn't need to practice what he was going to say to the rest of his flatmates. He had a nightmare. A bad one. He'd been getting bad ones again the past couple of months, but this was the worst for a long time. It was probably the stress and guilt eating away at him. He woke up, his voice hoarse from screaming, drenched in sweat, panting for breath. The anxiety, adrenaline, and fear still coursing through him. He heard a noise. With most of the room out of his range of vision he whipped his head round to the left, desperately trying to make out what was going on, his head still reeling. A shape moved towards him. A large figure, tall and strong, arms outstretched towards Zuko. Reaching for him. He flinched violently and pushed himself away from the figure as far as he could, quickly hitting wall since he was only on a single bed. He could just barely make out a voice, over the rushing blood in his ears and his own ragged breathing. It was soft and low, not the gruff deep voice he was expecting. It was enough to give him pause. To take a second to try and focus over the residual fear from the nightmare. To realise that he was in a bed, not in the nightmare-scape that had been clouding his perception.

Sokka had stopped at the violent flinch that Zuko had given on his approach. Started murmuring reassurances that Zuko was safe, not wherever his nightmare had taken him. It took a minute but eventually Zuko was looking at him, not past or through him. He seemed to take that as a signal that he could continue his approach. Slower and less direct than before, narrating as he went, who he was, where he was planning on moving to, what he was going to do. He changed course to move to sit on the foot of the bed rather than towards Zuko at the head, closing the door behind him with his foot as he entered fully into the room. He kept his hands and arms in view in front of him but dropped rather than raised, seemingly trying to be as unthreatening as possible.

It was the seemingly concerted effort that Sokka made to mention that he was Sokka and not Zuko's father that made Zuko realise that he'd still been babbling phrases as if he were stuck in the nightmare. Apologising, he felt his whole body warm with embarrassment. But Sokka didn't look annoyed, or angry, or even weirded out by Zuko's screaming and extreme reactions to Sokka coming in to check on him. He just looked concerned. Friendly. Tired.

They sat for a while in silence, awkward but not uncomfortable, until Sokka asked if Zuko wanted to talk about the nightmare. He did. But. He was tired of having these nightmares, but he knew that they wouldn't end until everything was dealt with, even if he spoke about them. Besides, he wasn't going to burden someone he barely knew with that kinda baggage. What Sokka had managed to pick up from Zuko's pleading was probably enough for a lifetime for most people, not that Zuko had really been aware of what he'd been saying. So no, he didn't want to talk about it. And Sokka took that, and left Zuko alone with reassurances that he'd always be available if Zuko ever did want to talk, but that he was tired and heading back to bed. It was only now that Zuko noticed just how sleep rumpled Sokka looked. His hair was down from its usual tied back undercut, his clichéd heart print boxers were crinkled (and of course, he only wears boxers to bed if his day clothes were always tank tops and shorts), and he could barely keep his eyes open. A shot of guilt ran through Zuko. They bid each other goodnight, and Zuko was left, once again, alone and scared of what or who could be hiding in the dark.

The next day

Today found Zuko, predictably, woken by the sunlight streaming in through his curtainless window. He didn't know what time it was, he just knew that he really needed to take Uncle's advice and start the day with some deep breathing and Tai Chi. After waking the whole flat last night with his screaming he somehow felt less awkward about quietly moving through to the landing and starting his movements in front of the window. After all, if they hadn't been pissed at him for waking them up like that, surely they couldn't be pissed at him for quietly moving around.

After he'd finished his Tai Chi and got ready for his day, Zuko took himself to the smaller sofa in the living room. Since it was still rather early, he had the room to himself and could let himself get comfortable. The smaller sofa sat perpendicular to the fireplace so he was able to arrange himself reclined across the length of it, his back to the fireplace on his left. Out of sight out of mind and all that. He propped his laptop up on his knees and started looking at course materials, books he would have to buy, etc. Realising that this was going to be expensive even with his student loan, he also started looking for part-time work in the area. Mostly he was killing time until the police officers came over to finish the horrendous interview that they'd started yesterday. They'd been annoyingly vague about when they'd be coming.

Eventually his flatmates trickled down from upstairs, getting ready for their own days. Katara still had hate in her eyes when she looked at Zuko and stared rather pointedly at his feet as the room started to fill up, rather than, you know, just asking him to move. He took that as a cue to pack up his laptop and head up to his room to start rearranging furniture once he'd heard everyone leave. Taking the chest of drawers out of the room left just enough space to swap the position of the bed and the desk before replacing the chest of drawers back where it was before. The room seemed to work much better with the bed at the far end under the window, with the chest of drawers opposite on the same wall as the door. And the desk then sat at the foot of the bed on the wall opposite the door. With the chair fully pushed in you could now actually fully open the door. Luckily the bed had neither a head nor a foot board so all that was needed to do was move the pillow from one end to the other, not forgetting the picture that was under it. There was only just enough space to open the chest of drawers and you kind of had to be sat on the bed to do so, but now there was a little square of floor rather than random strips around the furniture. Still not enough room for Tai Chi, but it was better (plus now the room lay to his right when he laid in bed).

Luckily it was after he'd replaced the chest of drawers into the room that the doorbell went. As he got to the landing and was about to descend the stairs he was surprised to hear the door open before what sounded like Katara calling his name. She met him at the bottom of the stairs and, frankly rather snarkily, told him that there were some police wanting to talk to him. He thanked her as politely and as not-awkwardly as he could manage, which was neither all that polite nor all that not-awkward.

Once up in his room with the officers so that they could talk privately, the interview resumed. He'd decided while killing time on his laptop that morning to write down all of the major points that he felt he needed the officers to know. Which is probably something he should have done for yesterday. Maybe then he wouldn't have broken down in front of them. It helped him stay on topic, stopped him feeling like he was going out of his depth in emotional content, but it didn't stop him getting emotional. He supposed, after they left, that getting emotional may have helped his case in some way. Made the less believable parts of it seem more real and less like he was making them up. By the time they left it was well after lunch, in fact it was practically coming up for dinner. Actually, judging by the time, Zuko had probably missed lunch back sometime during rearranging furniture. Maybe that's why Katara had been home and he'd missed hearing her arriving while he was busy.

Zuko's first foray into cooking on his own went… well it went. Nothing got burnt. The food was edible. But it's hard to ruin packet food unless you're trying. After he'd eaten at the table and cleaned up after himself he joined his flatmates in the living room and took a space on the floor cross-legged in front of the coffee table. They were all talking genially, and just as Zuko was feeling nearly confident enough to join in at a lull, Katara broke the atmosphere by sharply asking him about the police that had visited earlier in the day, insinuating that the GAang had made a mistake in letting him move in and that he was going to be a problem flatmate.

"I'm looking to press charges against my father for assault, battery, actual bodily harm, grievous bodily harm, assault of a minor, child abuse, attempted murder, and actual fucking murder." Thought Zuko with his usual dry sarcasm.

He'd only been in her presence for two days and it was already straining his already limited patience to interact with her. With that plus the subject matter that she was inadvertently asking about, Zuko had responded without thinking, without even realising he'd actually said it out loud really. It was the sudden overwhelming silence following his statement that made him realise. He apologised (he was doing that a lot to them) mentioning that he didn't mean to say it out loud and that it was no excuse for loading that on them but that he was tired.

Because he was tired. He was bodily tired, emotionally tired, mentally tired, just everything tired. He was tired of hiding and pretending. It was enough, he'd had enough.

What followed was a stunned silence. No-one seemed to know what to say. Who would expect them to? What even can you say in response to that? Eventually, in an uncharacteristically small voice, Sokka softly spoke up. 

"That's rough, buddy."

Thankfully that innocuous comment seemed to break the dam.

"Shit, Sparky! And I thought my parents were bad!"

"Gyatso was always telling me about the sanctity of human life, and how important family is. I don't know if I went through what it sounds like you've went through that I'd still believe in that. But I'm glad that you're choosing a route to deal with all of it in a peaceful manner."

"You want me and my girls to go beat him up for you?"

"No!... I may have already tried that. It did not go well."

Katara at least seemed to have the decency to look sheepish for her earlier comment, even if she didn't speak up now.

The next morning

Zuko didn't feel the same need to use deep breathing and Tai Chi to centre himself today, but he had been right when he'd thought it'd be a good way to still feel connected to and apologise to Uncle somehow. Besides, it gave him a nice slow relaxing way to start the day rather than just feeling like he was having to kill time, or, now that he was going to be a student, feel obliged to work or study, until the rest of the world woke up. This morning though, Aang came out of their and Katara's room, while Zuko was midway through his new routine, heading for the bathroom they both shared with Toph. They appeared too tired to notice Zuko on their way over, but paused on their way back to enquire what Zuko was doing. They seemed excited to learn they were right in thinking it had been Tai Chi by the look of it, and eagerly asked if Zuko would mind them joining some mornings. They were readily warned that Zuko didn't have a set time that he did this at, he rose with the sun, but this didn't put Aang off who went back to bed with a smile on their face and a promise to join the next morning.

Chapter Text

September

Zuko had been living with the GAang for a month now, and despite having managed to get a part-time gig at the uni library putting books back on the shelves, he had been suffering from financial anxiety. He'd had to get used to living frugally back when he'd moved in with his uncle (which was admittedly what had prompted him into thievery in the first place) but this was something else. There was no fall back now. He ended up deciding to approach Suki in order to solve this problem. He was fully learned in Northern Shaolin Kung Fu and had a black belt in Karate, and hoped that she would have an opening for a part-time instructor or something at The Kyoshi Warriors. If he was good enough for her. He also knew sword work, and has--had dual dao swords that he was fond of (he'd rather not have to explain how he lost them after accidentally letting that slip, and luckily she didn't ask). She did obviously ask him to informally interview. He expected no less, but he was surprised at how impressed she was at his performance. He knew he was adequate, but she insisted that he was good. Really good. And that, while she didn't technically have an opening, and mostly taught Hung Gar and Tessenjutsu, although they did also do a little Karate, she would see what she could do.

He had never been good at martial arts while he lived with his father, his sister had always been so much better than him. It wasn't until he moved in with Uncle and received caring tutelage, rather than the demanding expectations of his father, that he really flourished. Even if, to begin with, the slow and steady approach of his uncle had been frustrating based on his own expectations of himself as a hangover from his father. Perhaps the fear of being hurt again had helped, but he hoped no one held that against him. Though they probably did.

That had all been a few days ago. Now, Suki approached Zuko while he was having breakfast, which meant that Sokka was probably still snoring in bed. She told him about how he would have to sit a separate qualification to become a trainer, but that she could use someone to help with admin if he'd be willing to do that until he was qualified. Zuko jumped at the chance. Working out a schedule that benefited them both was a bit of a challenge, but once they had, Zuko wanted to start as soon as Suki would take him.

A fortnight later

Suki made for a good boss, and the increased time they spent together meant that she fast became his best friend. And the increased time spent with Suki inadvertently meant increased time spent with Sokka. Not that Zuko was complaining. He'd somehow managed to see past the 'bro' persona (which, frankly, was usually impossible), to the goofy nerd that was Sokka. Having been comforted after a nightmare his first night in the flat may have helped, but he wasn't keeping score.

It was one of the weeks that Suki was at the flat rather than at her girlfriend's (she spent a lot of her time at this friend's place, were she and Sokka having relationship issues? Not that it sounded like it most nights…) and she, Sokka, and Zuko were in the living room watching some weird conspiracy theories series that the other two had been into for years. Mostly they seemed to like finding all the holes and inconsistencies in the theories, but occasionally Sokka actually got caught up in one ("But Sweetie, there's no evidence to the contrary!" "There's no evidence for it either, Sokka!" was a frequent exchange when this show was on). Zuko couldn't figure out how such a genius when it came to engineering and planning was such a doofus in most of the rest of his life.

They'd recently decided to start a routine of rotating who was cooking dinner on these nights, and tonight it was Sokka's first. He grabbed his knee support and headed through to the kitchen, and Zuko could just catch snippets of what sounded like an attempt at singing along to whatever playlist Sokka had going floating through over the sound of cooking and the show still running on Netflix. He couldn't recognise the language that Sokka was singing in, but was more surprised to hear that the song was rock. He'd always pegged Sokka as being into pop and other more mainstream popular music. Something upbeat that you can dance to in a club, not rock in an obscure language. And then the song changed to exactly that, though the pop song was still in the unknown language. And then, eventually when the third song started, it was indie/folk? Because of course Sokka's playlists are a mess of genres, probably just one big playlist of all his favourite songs, not perfectly curated for different moods and genres like Zuko's were. Sokka continued to sing along to every song that came up, and they were all in the entirely unfamiliar language. Zuko didn't know Sokka knew any other languages. Admittedly he hadn't been able to place Sokka's accent, he'd never been any good at that, but it sounded American or Canadian to his ear.

It was then that Katara and Aang came in from walking Appa, and Katara joined in on the singing as she joined Sokka in the kitchen and started speaking to him in what sounded like the language from the music as they moved around the kitchen. She occasionally looked in a pot or stole a bit off a chopping board to eat as he retorted, in a fondly exasperated manner, before she headed upstairs to join Aang and Appa in their room after the short conversation.

Zuko had wandered over towards the kitchen and was leaning up against the archway joining it to the living room. He just stood there, arms gently folded in front of his chest, for a moment, watching Sokka continue to move about the kitchen, and listening to him sing along to the music.

"You speak the language. I don't recognise it."

It seemed that Sokka hadn't realised that Zuko was even stood there since he reacted with such surprise to him speaking, spinning round to face Zuko.

After a quick moment though, he seemed to recover, though his answer was subdued. "Yeah. It's Inuktitut. It's a playlist of a few artists from Igloolik; Kelly Fraser, Terry Uyarak, my dads are actually friends with one of the band members from Northern Haze!"

"Inuktitut." Came Zuko's blank repetition.

Sokka had said it as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world to Zuko. And perhaps it should have been. Zuko's pathetic response didn't seem to bother Sokka, who continued regardless.

"I've kinda been missing home and family so I thought I'd try and make Suaasat, not that I have the right meat, and Aang's is tofu…"

Sokka trailed off here, looking down at the table and tracing over the grain of the wood, picking at the uneven surface. The "it's just not the same" being unnecessary to voice.

"You cooked for Aang?"

"Yeah, food's meant to be shared, you know? Suaasat is something my mom and Gran Gran used to make whenever we were feeling poorly. Big pots of it to share round the rest of the family and friends, basically the whole village." There was a longing in his voice, something undefined and far away.

Zuko pushed himself off the archway and approached Sokka now, a deep urge inside him told him to comfort the man. His bowed head had caused a lock of his tied back hair that had come loose during his ministrations and dancing in the kitchen to fall forward, it curved around his face, highlighting his jaw, his cheekbones, and showed how his usually bright tempered dark chocolate eyes were dull and flat. He had been getting more quiet and withdrawn as he spoke. A gentle hand on his bicep (Fuck, it was firm. And who wears a tank top in September? Are they all he owns?) caused him to look up from the table to Zuko's face, leaning into the touch, proving that it was sadness that was dulling the usual sparkle in his eyes, and twisting his brow.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm just a bit homesick I think. Happens at this time every year, but I was kinda hoping I wouldn't be this year. Not sure what made me think it would be any different though. It's just…" Even if he wasn't shrugging off Zuko physically, it definitely felt like he was emotionally. But something in him echoed an old habit of Zuko's to pretend everything is ok when it almost certainly is not.

Sighing, Sokka appeared to physically shake himself out of whatever train of thought he'd been going down and instead turned back to face Zuko again, composed himself, and gave his signature grin. Or at least tried to.

"I'm. Not good. At emotions… But even I can tell that you need… Something? Just now. Tell me? Please? So I can help you?" Came Zuko's cringe-worthily stilted response. His usually raspy voice was even more hoarse with the effort he was putting in to trying (futilely it seemed) to string together a coherent sentence. He couldn't even keep eye contact, constantly flitting between Sokka's face and anywhere--everywhere else. But he was trying. He was trying so hard because it hurt so much to see Sokka hurting like this. It wasn't right.

His hand was still on Sokka's bicep, he realised sharply, and pulled away as if stung. If Sokka noticed, he didn't react or comment. Just shrugged and quietly asked Zuko to keep him company while he cooked. He could do that. He might not make good company, what with his complete inability to hold a normal conversation. But it sounded like Sokka just wanted a presence with him.

Suki wandered over at this point, wondering what was holding Zuko up from joining her back in the living room watching their ridiculous show. It was then that she noticed how off Sokka was, and started to gently fuss over him. Zuko took that as his cue to leave. Suki would be much better at consoling Sokka. It was probably her company he'd been wanting in the first place. And if Sokka appeared to shrink a little more into himself as Zuko left them to it, then there must have been some other explanation than because Zuko was leaving.

Eventually Sokka stuck his head out of the kitchen and called out in the general direction of the rest of the flat.

"Ujuk!"

Instantly the sound of doors opening and people coming down the stairs could be heard. Katara was the first down, quickly followed by Aang and Toph. The dogs shot past Aang's legs as they ran down the stairs, nearly tripping him as they tried to get to any scraps that definitely wouldn't be tossed their way by soft-hearted Zuko.

Suki rolled up her flannel sleeves and helped Sokka lay the table and bring the food over. Aang was informed of what wasn't vegetarian, Toph of what was where, and everyone started tucking in.

"Can we at least have my playlist with Twin Flames and Riit in?"

"What do you have against this playlist?!" Came Sokka's indignant exclamation.

"I'm not in the mood for genre whiplash every song change!"

"Oh! Oh! We could put on a mixed playlist of both of yours! I really like Joshua Haulli and Saali & The Ravenhearts from Katara's. But I also really like Terry Uyarak from Sokka's. Plus with a wider range of genres it might be less ‘whiplash’." Before it could dissolve into a full blown argument, Aang, forever the pacifist and (attempted) diplomat, cut in to prevent any fratricide or sororicide from happening.

The music was changed to a mix of both Sokka and Katara's playlists, and they quickly fell back into their usual patter, Zuko looking on with a kind of melancholy. How different would his life have been if this was the kind of relationship he and his sister had shared?

Zuko had hung back a little, still unsure of his place in the flat. Even though today he had been meant to be sharing dinner with Sokka and Suki, he wasn't sure if that had changed when Sokka had cooked for the GAang. Soon enough, Sokka looked up at him as if it were the most ridiculous thing in the world to be stood in a doorway watching while everyone else was sharing banter and food together.

Zuko sheepishly took a seat at the table and took part in the meal. It was good. Just the right thing to be eating as the autumn temperature had taken a sharp dip. Not that you'd know if you looked at how Sokka was dressed, but Zuko had still been putting that down to the 'bro' personality of the kind of guy who wore shorts all year round. And maybe he did, but maybe not for the reason that Zuko had been assuming.

Chapter Text

October

Mid October found most of the GAang lounging around in the living room. Suki was curled up leaning back against Sokka's chest, legs resting up on the other cushion of the smaller sofa, his arms wrapped snugly around her waist under her jumper, and his chin resting on her shoulder. They were sharing a set of earbuds while watching something on Sokka's phone. Toph and Aang were sat on the floor, either side of the coffee table, inexplicably playing a game of slaps across it. Zuko was staring unfocused up at the ceiling, reclined on his back on the larger sofa, his right side pushed up against the cushions of the back, absently stroking the fabric. He daydreamt about anything and nothing as the music played in the earbud sat in his right ear. He never could quite pull away from the emo music of his teens, going back to his old playlists every once in a while when he was feeling especially pensive. Slowly he became aware of the sofa being abruptly jostled and a vaguely muffled shouting came through over the volume of his music but he couldn't make any words out. The voice sounded kind of like Katara who, while she didn't hide the fact that she didn't particularly like Zuko, had never made a habit of yelling at him or any of their other flatmates. Concerned, Zuko pulled out his one earbud which unleashed the tirade of insults that Katara had apparently been throwing his way.

"--'re such a dick!! Ugh!"

As Zuko sat up and turned to his left, Katara came into his vision, giving one last kick to the sofa, her braids flying as she spun around before starting to storm off, throwing up her hands in exasperation. Immediately Zuko was flooded with guilt and anxiety. Not unusual for him, admittedly, but knowing that the only way to get out of looking like - as Katara so eloquently put it - a dick, would be to reveal more of himself than he was comfortable with at this point in his relationship with his flatmates, cranked those feelings up tenfold and added some panicked dread for good measure.

"Wait, Katara! I'm so sorry. I--I didn't hear you--"

"--The fuck, Zuko?! You only had one earbud in! And even if you were so zoned out that you didn't hear me, I was standing right in front of you, you would have seen me!"

An uncomfortable silence followed as Zuko struggled to gather himself enough to explain. He knew he would have to, if he didn't want the whole flat to think he was a jerk, but that didn't make it easier.

"Katara's right, Zuko. You can't have just not heard or seen her. I get one or the other but not both. What's going on, buddy? Were you deliberately ignoring her? I mean, I know you two aren't on the best of terms but--"

Sokka's interruption to Zuko's thought process proved that everyone already thought he was a jerk. He supposed that meant that he had nothing to lose now. Interrupting Sokka in a low voice Zuko blurted out a poorly thought through explanation of why he had appeared to have been so rude to Katara.

"--The scar isn't superficial."

That obviously wasn't enough of an explanation as various noises of confusion or curiosity rippled through the room. Zuko psyched himself up to get out the rest in a rush of breath, his voice tight and rough.

"I'm deaf/blind on my left side. Well, mostly anyway. The inner ear is destroyed so doesn't hear anything, even if the whole outer ear had been left behind it wouldn't help. The eye, other than being sealed half shut, there's a blind spot in the middle like if you've stared at a bright light too long. And the peripheral vision is blurry at best, more like when your eyes have adjusted to a dark room - no colour, just shapes and light/dark."

They fell back into another uncomfortable silence, Zuko could feel everyone's eyes on him, could feel his heart rate skyrocket and his breathing become shallow and more rapid as the silence drew on. His hands and feet were starting to get that familiar pins and needles sensation and an icy hand clawed its way up his spine to grip the base of his skull. His whole body grew tense, getting ready to bolt out of the room, and as much as he tried to fight it--

"I didn't know--"

"--It's fine. You're right. You didn't know. It's fine. It's ok. I'll leave the sofa to you."

With that Zuko got up and rushed up the stairs before anyone could stop him, before he could hear their pity or their anger or whatever else unwanted that was going to be thrown his way.

Upstairs, in his room with the door slammed behind him, Zuko leaned back. He let his back hit the door and slid down it. His heart felt like it was being crushed, pierced by talons. There was a ringing in his ears as sounds became muffled. He was still trying to get his breathing under control before the pressure and pricking behind his eyes started. But try as he might the choked sobs started to wrack their way through his body. He pressed a fist up against his mouth in an effort to silence them, the heel of the other was pressed to his right eye as though he could force the tears back in or at least persuade them not to fall. He still couldn't breathe right, couldn't get enough air into his lungs, and crying really wasn't helping that fact. His lungs were starting to burn and ache from the lack of oxygen. His eyes were hot from the tears falling. His heart was beating so fast it felt like someone had reached a hand into his chest and was squeezing the life out of it. This was it. This was how he was going to die. Curled up crying on his bedroom floor. Pathetic. Weak. Just like his father had always told him.

He barely registered the insistent knocking that started on the door at his back. But then, fighting its way through the deafening blood rushing in his ears, there was Sokka's voice, urgent and worried.

"--you ok? Please answer me, buddy. You're worrying me. Just let me know you're alright and I'll leave you alone if you want. Please!"

Some time during Sokka's begging Zuko had managed to choke his sobs back to hiccups, and his breathing, while in no way was back to normal, was at least slow enough that he could bite out a few words.

"I'm fine, Sokka."

Turns out his voice was another matter entirely. It was watery and hoarse and there was no way to keep out the depth of emotion that he'd just been feeling.

"...let me in?"

Sokka's voice was uncharacteristically quiet and sincere. He almost sounded unsure of himself, but Zuko knew that couldn't be true, he knew that Sokka was confident in all that he did and said. Not like Zuko. Not like the pathetic lump of nerves and awkwardness and apologies that was Zuko. The contrast in Sokka's demeanour was enough to knock Zuko out of his head a little and to let him think that it wouldn't be catastrophic for him to just open the door. No more than that. He didn't have to let Sokka all the way in. Not to his room and not to his self. He got up slowly and turned to open the door. Zuko looked up, and no sooner than Sokka's face came into vision, concern creasing his brow, did he see Sokka's face crumple in a mirror to his own. He could feel the sobs start to build up and his breathing picking back up again. The white noise of blood rushing in his ears starting to drown everything back out again. He took an involuntary step backwards, and just as his legs were about to fail under him and he was about to sink back onto the floor he saw Sokka's arms reach out to offer support. Desperately, Zuko reached back out, clung to Sokka as a lifeline, and felt Sokka return his touch in kind, clinging to Zuko's elbows in an effort to keep the shorter man from hurting himself in the apparent fall he was about to let himself take.

The door was swung closed behind Sokka as he came fully into the room guiding a crying, heaving Zuko towards his bed. As Zuko felt the bed at the back of his legs, he once again let gravity take him, sinking onto the mattress without even the pretense of trying to stop his fall. Sokka was still holding Zuko, Zuko was still holding Sokka. The warmth at his elbows was welcome despite the heat of his tears and the burning of his lungs and heart. He could just make out Sokka's blurry crouched figure kneeling in front of him, quiet all this time, just being a pillar of support.

Even if the sobs died back down again from the strength Zuko was pulling from Sokka's grounding touch, his breathing and heart were still to settle. At this rate Zuko was going to pass out. He felt the grip on his elbows tighten slightly, pulling his attention back to that feeling, away from the panic that had yet to ebb. Slowly he was able to pick out Sokka's voice over the whine of white noise and blood rushing in his ears and his own gasping breath. The was a gentle firmness to the voice, and a slow reassuring rhythm to the words. Zuko tried to gather his focus and decipher what Sokka was saying to him.

"--3, 4. Out, 2, 3, 4. In, 2, 3, 4. Out, 2, 3, 4…"

Sokka was timing his own breathing with his words. And Zuko's consciousness slowly wrapped around the fact that Sokka was trying to get him to follow along. At the first deliberate breath that Zuko took, Sokka interspersed the instructions with encouragements and praise while still keeping up the slow rhythm.

After what felt like an eternity Zuko slowly started to feel that he was the one in control of his breathing again rather than it controlling him. His vision opened back up again, no longer clouded with black around the edges, the ringing in his ears was gone, and his heart rate was nearly down to normal. He still felt undeniably tense, Sokka could probably feel the tension rolling off of him, but at least he no longer felt that he was dying. Again, Sokka's voice pulled him from diving too deep within himself.

"Has this happened before?" Sokka asked with a quirk of his pierced brow.

Not quite able to trust his voice again so soon after getting his crying and breathing under control, Zuko just nodded. Sokka winced and shifted below him, obviously uncomfortable from being in a squatted position for so long, but not complaining, still being there as an anchor for Zuko. Still holding his elbows as Zuko slowly loosened the death grip he was only just now realising he had on Sokka's forearms. Without letting go, Sokka slowly got up and joined Zuko to sit on the bed beside him, stretching his legs out.

"What can I do to help most right now?"

The tender caring in Sokka's voice was nearly enough to send Zuko into tears again. Instead, he stiffly shook his head in an effort to convey that Sokka needn't do any more than he's already done. He'd already done so much for Zuko, more than he would ever hope or dare to ask for.

"I'm really sorry for my sister. I know she can hold a grudge, and that's put strain on your relationship with her. I mean I get where she's coming from, but it's not fair to hold that against you. You were just a kid, you had nothing to do with it, it was your father and his company--"

That got Zuko's attention.

"What are you talking about?" Zuko's voice was still hoarse but at least it wasn't watery and full of all the emotion of the last half hour. Now it was only full of confusion of what Sokka was talking about.

"Oshiro Oil…" Sokka appeared conflicted about continuing but something that he saw in Zuko's eyes as he searched them made up his mind to continue. "My mom was protesting an oil line being put in on our lands. Your dad gave the order to the bulldozers and diggers to move in anyway. They obviously didn't want to comply but something in the way your dad leads that company seemed to have them more terrified of him than of the potential manslaughter charges they could get if they were to drive on. So they did. My mom couldn't get out of the way in time. I think Katara blames your whole family since they make such a big thing about being a family run business. Deep down she knows you had nothing to do with it. But our mom's death hit her hard. She was only 8 years old. You know how stubborn kids can be, I think she made up her mind back then and just hasn't been able to change it. Maybe she feels she'd be betraying mom's memory if she let go--shit, sorry! I didn't mean to lay all that on you after--well--" Sokka stopped himself, seeming to gather or compose or shake himself out of whatever hole he thought he might have been digging. "None of what I just said excuses how Katara has been acting towards you. Let's leave it at that."

Zuko finally seemed to manage to find his voice proper, only having to clear it once after a false start.

"I think I know how she feels though. I still hold a grudge against m--the person responsible for my mother's death. It's definitely not something easily got over."

"You may be right, but I hope you know that I don't blame you or hold a grudge against you. Not in the slightest." Here Sokka paused, his face shifting from one of compassion to one of concern. "Back to that panic attack--and feel free to tell me it's none of my business or that you just don't want to talk about it. But you said you'd had them before. Are they usually this bad? What are your usual coping techniques? They didn't seem to be working this time around."

"I guess they're not always quite that bad. Not always so all encompassing… My uncle taught me some breathing techniques I guess… You seem to know a lot about them. Panic attacks and breathing techniques."

"Yeah. I guess rather than creating a stubborn vendetta my response was to develop anxiety and start having panic attacks." Sokka punctuated this with a wry smile and hollow laugh "I still get anxiety when it comes to public speaking but for the most part I've managed to get the panic attacks under control. Don't randomly start to feel that I'm about to lose everyone I've ever cared about so much, you know?" Zuko did not know. "They kinda flared up again at 15, though…"

This didn't seem to be a topic Sokka wanted to go into right now, and Zuko did know about that, so tried to helpfully give Sokka an out.

"Thank you. For sharing all of that. And for helping me out just now. I'll see you downstairs."

This seemed to take Sokka by surprise, but he relented after double and triple checking that Zuko was ok and wanting to be left alone for a bit. He also made sure to let Zuko know that he wasn't ok with how Katara had been treating him up until now and was going to be letting her know that he expects her to apologise sincerely to Zuko. Big brother card and all that, apparently.

It took Zuko another hour before he felt ready to face the GAang. Stopping to wash his face and straighten up his hair. The messy bun needed a lot of work to look effortlessly and immaculately messy, rather than just being an actual mess. He was dreading feeling everyone's eyes back on him as he entered the living room, but they all kept doing what they were doing. Suki and Sokka were now on the larger sofa, wrapped up in each other in the same position as before, with Suki absentmindedly massaging Sokka's left leg, as he balanced a heat pack on the knee. Katara sat on the smaller sofa with Aang on the floor leaning back into the space between her legs as they dangled off the sofa. She was pressed up against the left arm of the sofa, with that side's hand dangling down to give Aang an absent neck massage as they reached up to stroke her hand. Toph sat next to Katara, leaning back up against her so that she could be swung round to drape her feet off the arm of the sofa. Katara's right arm was casually draped over Toph's shoulder. They were all listening to some lo-fi and ignoring Sokka animatedly telling some story they'd probably already heard. Zuko slipped in quietly and unobtrusively, managing to manoeuvre his way past Toph's bare feet and onto the free space left on the larger sofa. He felt safe here, amongst people that wouldn't punish him for showing such obvious weakness; if not by admitting to the physical defects that his father always told him to hide, then by showing his emotions that his father also always told him to hide. He started to think that maybe they weren't actually weaknesses - to be fair, Toph was blind, and Sokka just admitted to also having panic attacks - maybe they were just things that people had? His reverie was interrupted, however, by one of the people he'd just been musing.

"So I'm finally not the only blind person in the flat! One down, four to go!"

Zuko started to protest, to insist that it was only partial vision loss and only in one eye. He was adamant to not be, as he felt it, invading a space not meant for him, surely he didn't qualify?

"Let's put it this way Sparky-" (This was not a nickname that Zuko approved of, you can't get an English lit. degree just from using Spark notes!) "-can you see enough out of that eye to function on it alone?" Well that answer should have been obvious from what he had told them about his remaining vision in his left eye, but Toph started back up again before he even managed to make a noise of dissent. "You're blind, welcome to the club, we have melon."

"Melon?!"

"Yes! And I am the Melon Lord! It’s the superior fruit, plus all the other clubs stole all the cake and cookies. We needed something to stand out!"

Chapter Text

November

Zuko dumped his backpack in his locker and started changing into his Karategi. Suki appeared, leaning on the doorframe, arms folded in front of her.

"Please tell me you have something interesting to talk about, gimme the gossip, spill the tea. Please!" She pleaded, practically begged, with hand clasped in front of her.

"Umm… they have fruit in the vending machines in the English department now?"

How was he still so awkward after living together for three months and working together for two?

"Ok, yeah, that's not really what I was looking for." She had quickly straightened up from the affected begging of a second ago. And started slowly moving to sit on the bench Zuko was changing beside. "Come on, you've been living with us for like three months now but I don't feel that I know you well. And I haven't seen you all week since I've been at my girlfriend's place. Talk to me. Tell me about you. Any romantic interests?"

"No!" Zuko all but yelled in his haste to deny.

Suki instantly perked up. "Well that answer came too quick! Come on, tell me about them?"

"Ugh, no, please don't make me?" Zuko half groaned, half pleaded.

There were precisely four people in his life that he was scared of, and Suki fell into that very small category (Toph was one of the others). He knew that she'd be able to make him talk with very little effort on her part. Though mostly this was because he also knew that she wouldn't push him beyond his (depressingly small) comfort zone, and because he actually felt safe talking to her.

There was an unspoken, though no less explicit, understanding between the two of them, that if Zuko truly did not want to discuss a topic, he need only say so, and Suki would leave well enough alone. This supposed initial unwillingness was all just banter between them, and the fact that Zuko felt comfortable enough to take part in such patter with someone made him immensely proud. Suki seemed proud of him too, he was a little embarrassed to realise. But she should be, a lot of his comfort was down to the friendship that she had so patiently helped him build with her in their first few weeks of working together.

Sensing his hesitation, Suki softened. "You don't have to tell me who they are. I just need some distraction from today. Don't ask." The last sentence was groaned out as she slouched in her seat and rolled her eyes.

Zuko could feel his anxiety bubbling. It could be dangerous to discuss his crush with Suki. It was her boyfriend after all. A fact which gave Zuko no end of guilt. He hadn't meant to fall for Sokka.

But who wouldn't? His laugh, his grin, the way his eyes sparkled either with mirth or mischief. Even the fact that he was an absolute goofball was endearing. His humility when it came to his genius. The way he didn't even see what a genius he was in areas unrelated to engineering. Zuko and he had had a silly little poetry/rap battle the other night from absolute boredom when the internet went down. It was Sokka who had actually suggested it since he knew that Zuko was planning on focusing on poetry in his degree. Sokka had ended up managing to come up with multiple haiku off the top of his head in seconds, and put it down to simply liking poetry a little! Zuko thinks that's the night that did it for him. That's the night that he fell irrevocably in love with his best friend. Who also happened to be his other best friend's boyfriend. His boss's boyfriend! Shit, he could not only lose his two best friends but he might also get fired! Nope, definitely can't discuss his crush with Suki.

A jab in the side from Suki's elbow pulled him out of his little internal panic. Turning quickly to face her he saw the concern and curiosity written on her face. She tilted her head sympathetically, and pressed a hand to Zuko's bicep.

"I had been about to say that you really look smitten with this person, but then you kinda devolved into a more panicked look. You ok?"

Clearing his throat of an embarrassing squeak, Zuko calmed himself enough to hedge a reply, though couldn't bring himself to look at Suki as he replied, opting instead to stare a hole in the floor.

"Yeah. Of course. I just don't know how much I can say about them… But I think you might be right. I think I am smitten. But there's nothing I can do about it. Nothing I want to do about it. To be honest, it's kinda inconvenient, and I wish it would just go away…" He started fiddling with the belt of his Karategi, voice getting smaller. "No, no I don't." He sighed, deflating a little and dropping into the seat next to Suki, defeat evident in his voice. "Not really. But it is sometimes hard being around them, being so close to them, knowing that nothing's gonna happen. Seeing him happy with someone else."

Suddenly, Zuko noticed his slip up. Panicking a little again, he whipped his head up to see if Suki had figured it out from that. If she had, it didn't show on her face, and she left him to finish getting ready after giving him sympathy over his predicament.

The rest of the work day passed by uneventfully, and Suki continued to give no signs of working out who Zuko was pining after, simply sending him the occasional look filled with something akin to sadness. Pity.

That evening

Aang was lounging on the living room floor, chattering aimlessly, his feet under the coffee table, and his head resting on Appa's belly who was sprawled behind him, somehow taking up more room than the fully grown adult lain on top of him. Katara and Suki were leaning against the back of the three-seater chatting away but seeming to be getting increasingly impatient. Zuko was sitting cross-legged on the smaller sofa playing a video game against the computer to practise for the next time he and Sokka found the time to continue their ongoing competition. At least he was no longer just button smashing the entire time, sometimes he actually nearly knew what he was doing. They had a running bet of whoever loses has to pay for the other's next round at the pub. Sokka hadn't had to buy a pint since they started the competition an entire month ago. Zuko had regrets. His wallet had worse regrets.

They were interrupted by Toph and Momo thundering down the stairs. Toph was huffing something along the lines of annoying parents, and their annoying formal Christmas dinners, and their annoying need to have them wearing an annoying fancy Hanbok. Although in much more colourful language. Suki offered commiserations and mentioned how grateful she was that her parents no longer tried to force her into a Hanbok for every fancy event she was made to attend.

"Alright, who's sitting where? Who do I need to boot out of a seat? I ain't sitting on the floor. Not today."

Zuko had paused his game as soon as he'd heard Toph's grumbling when they were only halfway down the stairs.

"Is there a reason we haven't bought an armchair or something considering there hasn't been space for everyone to sit down together since I moved in? Three. Whole. Months ago."

Anyone's attempt at an answer to that question was interrupted as a rather wet and bedraggled looking Sokka came home looking rather like some kind of swamp monster, and thoroughly done with everything. He swiped the flyaway hairs and runoff rainwater back from his face as he straightened up. Zuko hadn't even realised that it was raining out.

"Hey, Sunshine! You'd better not be cheating! I like not having to pay for my booze!" Came Sokka's inexplicably cheerful teasing, after a complete 180° from his demeanour not even a whole second ago, as soon as he'd looked up at Zuko. Seriously, how does someone soaked to the bone still manage to smile, let alone josh around?

"It's not cheating, it's practice." Was Zuko's entirely childishly grumbling reply.

"Come on Sokka, we're running late now, thanks to you!" Katara's patience was wearing thin, and if her crossed arms and jutted hip were anything to go by, nobody wanted to test how thin.

"Can I at least get changed into some dry clothes?" Whined Sokka, slouched and dripping onto the floor, his puppy eyes having no effect on Katara since she'd grown up with them, and Suki seemed to have grown an immunity.

"Is there really much point if we're just going back out in the rain?" Was Suki's dry response.

"Aww, thanks Babe, didn't know you cared so much!" Sokka replied with a put-on over-enthusiastic voice and matching grin.

"Come on, you're usually always so excited for Guy Fawkes night that we have to stop you from heading out hours early!" Suki knew just how to play Sokka to get him to do what she wanted.

"Yeah, yeah, ok, you've got me there. Come on, Gorgeous. I love seeing you lit up by fireworks."

And with that, the three of them headed out. That left the flat divided. Aang had stayed back to comfort Appa, and Momo if needed, though Zuko doubted it was necessary; Appa was the chillest animal he'd ever met, and Momo… well Momo was unpredictable. Toph had stayed back because the cons outweigh the pros for them when it comes to attending bonfire night when blind. And Zuko stayed back because the combination of the crowds, the massive bonfire, and the noise of the fireworks would only add up to a panic attack.

"You can let Momo comfort you, ya know. Don't think I haven't noticed you jump at sudden loud noises, Sparky. We know you've stayed home because of the fireworks. You'll still be able to hear them from here. Let Momo comfort you like Aang thinks he needs to comfort Appa." Despite being blunt in their wording, Toph had been gentle in their delivery, seeming to be casual about it because they know that Zuko would be awkward about the topic being explicitly addressed.

"It's ok to be scared of things," replied Aang, rubbing Appa's belly behind his head as if talking to both him and Zuko "there's no shame in having triggers."

"It's so silly though. I know the fireworks aren't my father banging around the house. They don't even sound the same! They're just loud. And sudden. And… unpredictable."

"Kind of like your father banging around the house?" Said Toph with a raised eyebrow.

The next morning

Zuko was doing his usual morning Tai Chi, Aang was a near constant companion these days, his space to Zuko's right, facing the large window, (which meant they were closer to each other's rooms than their own, but Aang had moved without a word after the sofa incident, for which Zuko was thankful) a speaker with meditative music in the middle. They seemed to have set up a familiar routine of Tai Chi and deep breathing or meditation, followed by Aang waking Katara (and unsuccessfully waking Appa) for the three of them to share breakfast. Things between Zuko and Katara were… tense, but not hostile. Neither friendly nor unfriendly.

To be honest, Zuko felt that if she had changed abruptly after that day, it would just feel like pity. Zuko understands that he's not the most likeable person, and is honestly surprised that he seems to have managed to trick four of his five flatmates into actively liking him rather than just passively tolerating him. (Animals always seemed to like him, so he was glad he knew that at least two of the beings he lived with actually genuinely liked him.)

After breakfast, Aang and Katara would head back upstairs to get ready for the day which tended to be around the time that Toph and Momo got up for their breakfasts. Zuko would hang around drinking some jasmine tea while listening to whatever bizarre dreams or tales Toph had to tell about. If Suki were in, she would often come down at this time and share in breakfast, tea, and tales. But this was not one of those days. Usually it was at this point that Zuko would need to get dressed and head out for the day, which meant that it wasn't unusual for him to not see Sokka in the mornings. Even on mornings that Sokka had an early (for him) class and Zuko didn't start until late, they often missed each other. In terms of timings. Not pining. Not even a little bit.

So Zuko spent his morning as usual, and didn't think anything might be amiss. Why would he?

He didn't even think anything was amiss that afternoon when he got home from classes and still was yet to see Sokka. After all, his classes both started and finished later than Zuko's.

It wasn't until he was practising against the computer again and Sokka had yet to come home that Zuko started to wonder what was taking so long, eventually deciding to message him.

No reply an hour later and Zuko was officially worried. He knew that Sokka's classes and labs had finished for the day two hours ago (not creepy at all, just being a concerned and attentive friend), and that, even with bad traffic, he should have been home an hour ago at the latest. He was starting to feel pushed into having to call Sokka. Did the anxiety of making that call and talking on the phone outweigh the anxiety he was feeling right now about where his friend was and if he was ok?

No sooner than Zuko had pressed dial, did he hear an awfully tinny version of My Chemical Romance's Welcome to the Black Parade coming from upstairs. That was his ringtone (because of course Sokka was the kind of person to pick specific ringtones for each person that he thought suited their personality, thought Zuko with an internal eye-roll.). But if Sokka was in, then why hadn't he come down for their competition? Was he tired of Zuko already and just didn't want to tell him to his face because, well who would actually want to talk to Zuko if they weren't forced into it by virtue of being a roommate or a classmate or a boss? Sokka had finally realised the mistake he had made in choosing to spend more time with Zuko than was absolutely necessary. Katara had been right all along.

Zuko didn't have the energy to have to see Sokka try and avoid him over dinner time so decided instead to just eat early and head up to his room where he could sit and be his loner loser self. In the dark with his high-school playlists, because why not? Hearing Black Parade had kind of put him in that kind of mood anyway.

When he got to the top of the stairs and walked past their shared bathroom door (and of course that wasn't going to be awkward now), Zuko could make out a faint voice coming from Sokka's room. So he was in. And he was avoiding Zuko. He was probably on the phone to Suki now, the two of them discussing how easiest to get Zuko out of their lives. Zuko's heart clenched at that thought, his hand coming up to his chest as if he could somehow comfort himself that way. He suddenly felt a sharp loss for something he had never actually had, the loss of, not just friendship, but the fantasy of something more. It caused him to pause just long enough at Sokka's door that he ended up hearing a snippet of what he was saying in an apparent whisper to not be overheard.

"--know what I love about Appa? His sense of humour--"

Well that. Made no sense.

"Take that, you rock!"

And that was weird. Something in Zuko told him to knock on Sokka's door, that he needed to check everything was ok. A much bigger part of Zuko was still convinced that Sokka hated and was avoiding him. Luckily the smaller part was louder.

He cautiously knocked on Sokka's door, calling out to him, and was met with a weakened and raspy voice.

"Katara. Please. Water."

Shit.

Not waiting for permission to enter, (despite it being a favourite insult of one rather terrifying sister, he is not a vampire) Zuko burst into Sokka's room to be met with a human burrito on the bed, shivering and sweating. The room smelled musty, of being occupied the whole day with no ventilation. Sokka's glassy eyes slowly roved their way over to Zuko's face.

"Hey, Beautiful." Sokka wheezed out with a dopey grin.

Great. He was delirious.

"It's Zuko, not Suki."

Maybe he should have played along, seen what it would have been like, could have been like. Won't be like, can't be like.

"I'll go get you some water."

As Zuko left Sokka's bedroom again, he heard a pitiable whine from behind him.

"Nooo, Sweetheart, don't go."

Maybe he was wrong, seeing, hearing, what it might have been like was just going to cause him death by heartbreak.

When he got down to the kitchen, to fetch a bowl and cloth to deal with Sokka's fever, he ran into Katara, nearly literally. Since she was a nursing student he thought it best that she deal with Sokka's sickness and mentioned as such. Even going so far as to mention that the fever had made him deluded into thinking Zuko was Suki, calling him 'Beautiful' and 'Sweetheart'. Which Katara mentioned having never heard him call her before. 'Gorgeous' and 'Sweetie' sure, but not those particular pet names.

Well it's not like he was limited to being allowed to use a select few. Katara decided that the best thing to be done right now would be to make soup, while Zuko worked on bringing down the fever and getting him rehydrated.

Getting Sokka to do as Zuko asked while he was in this condition was surprisingly easy. And yet the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. Sokka was still babbling deliriously and just constantly calling him 'Beautiful', 'Sweetheart', 'Love', sometimes though he seemed to slip into lucidity and called him Sunshine, which Zuko knew meant him. Toph called him Sparky, and Sokka called him Sunshine. Zuko wasn't really sure why, but he wasn't complaining, it was both the best and worst feeling in the world to hear Sokka call him that. Like right now, he was getting a little taste of what might have been, which felt amazing, but knowing it wasn't real hurt so much, knowing it was going to end as soon as Sokka got better.

Once Katara had come up with the soup, given Sokka some medicine (that he thought tasted like frozen frogs. Which. How would he know what frogs tasted like, much less frozen ones?) and double checked his temperature, she left Zuko to keep doing as he had been, saying that Sokka should be fine by morning, it was just a minor flu, and he'd had worse. Zuko wasn't going to mention how Katara definitely seemed to fall into the stereotype of nurses being rather offhand when their own family members got sick, treating them and leaving them to deal with it. Maybe Zuko was scared of five people in his life…

After that, Sokka seemed to perk up a little, but was no less delirious, apparently, as he continued talking to Zuko as if he were Suki.

"You know, Love, I wish I could tell you how I really feel, but fuck, you're so beautiful that every time I even think to try, I just choke!"

"I'm sure Suki knows how you feel, Sokka."

"No! You don't get it!" he whined. "I mean it, Sweetheart, you're just so far out of my league! Come on, Baby, have you seen yourself recently? And you're not just amazingly beautiful, you could probably kill me with your pinky, and are so so funny, and--"

Zuko had to cut Sokka off here before he really did die of heartbreak.

"Ok, Sokka, I think you need some rest now. Try to sleep, alright?"

"Stay with me 'til I fall asleep, Sunshine?"

Finally a sign that Sokka was feeling better, he actually recognised who it was he was talking to. Though this meant that Zuko getting to hear Sokka's sweet talk aimed his way, even if it was mistakenly, would be over soon. Tomorrow everything would be back to normal.

Chapter Text

December

Zuko may rise with the sun but that doesn't mean he enjoys 9am classes (especially when sunrise is barely more than 15 minutes before class in the dead of winter), he preferred a slower more leisurely start to the day. Recently Katara had been joining Zuko and Aang during their morning Tai Chi routine and had even offered to teach Zuko some yoga. So it seemed like at the very least a cease fire had been declared. Zuko was still too scared to hold out hope that she was beginning to see him as a friend, and would probably continue to be even when all signs pointed that way. Still, their new found acquaintance-ship made the mornings much less awkward and tense, especially at the breakfast table. This led to his mornings with 9am classes being less irritating than they used to be. Luckily, he doesn't have them every day, otherwise he'd have to entirely forego his nicely established morning routine. But that doesn't stop his Thursdays from dragging, it felt like whoever had made his timetable had decided that Thursday was going to be his shit day and had crammed the maximum amount of classes into that one day as possible. Add to that the fact that the weather today was literally kicking up a storm and you have one wet, tired, and very stressed Zuko coming home. Who also had a migraine brewing behind his left eye. Great.

Luckily most of the storm held off until he was actually in the door. Not more than an hour later a full on thunder and lightning storm was raging outside Zuko's bedroom window. He had flopped on his bed the second he got in and would have been trying to study and write an imminently due assignment if not for his exhaustion and migraine. And he would have been trying to sleep if not for the noise of the rain trying to batter his window in, aggravating said migraine, and the fact that he had previously mentioned assignment and needed to study for the exams before winter break. The additional stress of the court case moving at a snail's pace while they look for and compile evidence, made worse by trying to get around Ozai's lawyers, was definitely not helping the migraine and exhaustion. If anything it was making his migraines more frequent, and distracting him from both sleep and uni work.

Eventually he dragged himself up from his bed and went to turn his lights on due to how dark the storm clouds were getting. Either they were blown or the storm had caused a power cut. Awesome. Just what he needed. Anything like new bulbs were down in the hall closet on the ground floor. And if it were a power cut, well, anything like torches were down in the hall closet on the ground floor. Out on the landing it became obvious it was a power cut from the surprised shouts floating up the stairs from various flatmates, and the fact that the landing lights didn't work. Zuko really didn't want to descend the stairs in the dark, he had enough light coming from his window for any reading, and enough charge in his laptop for what he needed to do. What he really needed to do. Besides which, he didn't particularly want a massive amount of light from the way this migraine was stabbing behind his eye. This assignment was stressing him out nearly as much as his day already had. Which left his nerves frayed and the constant tension and jumping from the thunder and lightning wasn't helping. The noise was drilling into his skull. So of course his laptop would be kind enough to grace him with holding out for as long as he needed it. Maybe.

Or maybe not as the case may be. He was only halfway through the research for his assignment when the laptop battery warned him he was at 5%. That gave him just enough time to save (double and triple checking) before it auto shut off. Grumbling he got up and, using his phone as a torch, headed out into the hall to go join the others for what was likely to be a bunch of ghost stories seated around the coffee table with torches up-lighting their faces. At least they'd be a good distraction from the ball of stress and tension that Zuko had turned into over the course of the last two hours. That plus the definite migraine had him on edge. Everything louder, brighter.

Gentle laughter and light-hearted voices were heard before Zuko even had his foot on the first step down. This definitely sounded like it'd take his mind off things and relax him. Even if it exacerbated the headache. Continuing down the stairs he could make out snippets of their conversation, nothing ghost story related, though it was hard to make out without concentrating since it was to his left, and despite being round a corner he could tell there was a lot more light than expected.

Looking round to his left as he neared the bottom of the staircase, everything both slowed down and sped up somehow. As the living room came into view so did the fireplace. The lit fireplace. Zuko lost his footing on the stairs, crashing down the last few. His heart was in his throat, blood rushing in his ears. Pain broke out across the left side of his face. He could smell burning, cooking flesh and hair. Could feel his hair being torn out of his scalp at the back of his head. His breathing had stopped, trying not to breathe in the smoke, the heat, the stench. He was begging, screaming, crying for it to stop. To be let go. He didn’t even know if he was speaking English or Japanese, or even if he was using real language at all. He was clawing at the hand holding fistfulls of his hair, holding him down, pushing him further into the heat and the pain. He tried to push up with his left forearm, sacrificing it to the flames in the hopes that he could be freed. The arm was met with cold metal bars. The unexpected sensation was enough to force his eyes open, to begin to pull him out of this living nightmare. The feel of a hand wrapping around his right wrist sent him back, the grip in his hair tightening, another was gently forcing his fist open, and slowly they pulled his arm away from the back of his head, and the feel of his scalp being torn stopped. His ragged breathing and broken sobs slowed to a hiccuping interspersed with mindless begging, frantic apologising, and a stream of placations, as soothing circles were rubbed into the back of his right hand. There was a voice, a familiar voice, chanting a familiar rhythm, if he really concentrated Zuko could just make out this voice, far away and unreal as it was. Hearing and understanding the words wasn't necessary, he just needed to hold onto the voice. Stay here, don't go back to the pain even if it's more real right now. Hold on.

His left hand was coaxed from the death grip it had formed on the metal bar sometime between his eyes opening and now. The soothing rhythm didn't let up as arms tucked under his elbows and slowly levered Zuko up onto his feet. He was slowly guided up stairs that he could only just make out through the fire and tears still clouding his vision. Eventually, after what felt like hours, his limbs aching in agreement with that assessment, he and the guiding steady presence behind him made it to the top of the stairs, and then slowly to Zuko's room and onto his bed. Scenes still flashed behind his eyelids, noises ringing in his ears, smells lingered in his nose, and tastes on his tongue and down his throat. His whole body buzzed, skin all at once tingling and numb.

"--please Zuko, Sunshine, tell me you're with me, tell me you can hear me. You gotta stop hyperventilating buddy, you're gonna pass out or something…"

And the voice went back to its rhythm, its instructions and reassurances. And Zuko could hold on.

It took longer than any of the other times that Sokka had coached Zuko through a panic attack. Longer than that first night when he'd had the nightmare, longer even than after the sofa incident. But despite Sokka's usual goofy and exuberant personality, he could be steady and gentle and patient, and his reassuring presence coupled with his soft voice in these moments helped Zuko more than anything else he had ever tried.

Exhaustion took over every other sensation that he'd been feeling the past few hours. His scalp still stung and his lungs ached from being misused for so long, but the rest of him felt heavy. So heavy. He knew he needed to explain what the fuck just happened but he wasn't sure even he himself fully understood what went on. All he knew is that he saw the lit fireplace and suddenly he was confronted with a very different lit fireplace and events that had played out and ended nearly nine years ago.

For the life of him he couldn't figure out why Sokka or any of the rest of his flatmates put up with him. He was a mess. This trial was fucking with his head and with everything at the forefront of his mind his usual delicately balanced lack of mental health was, well it was burned and unrecognisable like half of his face. And yet there Sokka was. Crouched before him on the floor in front of his bed like so many months ago after a nightmare not dissimilar to the one that had just played live-action before his eyes. He really was exhausted. He let himself fall forward onto Sokka's shoulder before him, resting his forehead there. He would just rest his eyes for a moment. Or he would have if Sokka's shoulder didn't start shaking with a barely suppressed chuckle.

"Come on, Love. Don't fall asleep on me now. I know it's late, but at least get into bed first!"

Zuko made no move to lift his head off of Sokka's shoulder and Sokka made no move to let go of Zuko's hands which he'd stopped rubbing circles into when Zuko had stopped hyperventilating. They sat in comfortable silence. Or at least the silence was comfortable, Zuko slowly began to realise that Sokka's legs must be completely dead from having been squatting for hours now. He pointed out as much which just made Sokka giggle, agree, and promptly fall back onto his ass the second he tried to move to stand up. He looked up at Zuko, sprawled on the floor as he was, with a curious mixture of mirth, fondness, and concern in his eyes before whispering as if worried he was going to break some spell.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

The lack of a 'buddy' or 'Sunshine' made the question feel heavy. Heavier and more serious than any question Sokka had ever asked Zuko. With a hidden depth and meaning that Zuko couldn't even let himself consider.

He realised that they'd hit a turning point. After more than four months of living together, Zuko felt like he owed the GAang some kind of an explanation. He knew that by now they must have picked up on myriad clues and scraps of knowledge about what was going on and had gone on, but they deserved a complete picture. And they deserved to hear it from Zuko directly, all together, and in full.

But not now. Now Zuko was tired. Now he needed to rest and build up the strength to go through everything all over again. At least it was not for the first time. But he knew it would not be the last. Gently nudging Sokka's right knee as he managed to rock forward off of his ass back onto his feet, Zuko used the levity of Sokka's second tumble to the floor to ask if he'd be willing to talk to the flat and let them all know that Zuko wanted to talk to them all together. And to warn them that it wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation, so if they didn't feel up to it they weren't being forced to attend, and wouldn't be forced to stay for the duration of his explanation. At this, a concerned furrow to his brow creased Sokka's forehead and only deepened at Zuko's apology, but he seemed to be able to tell that Zuko wasn't up to any questions right now if his silence was anything to go by. The two bid each other goodnight with a heavy atmosphere weighing down their shoulders and Zuko lay down for a restless night plagued with snippets from his earlier flashback.

Chapter Text

December

The next day was… awkward to say the least. Aang, bless them, tried their hardest to not act any differently during their morning Tai Chi, and Zuko had to give them credit, they managed to not ask any questions even if they were so obviously bursting to do so. By the end of their morning session though, they seemed to have calmed down enough to not act quite so desperate.

Breakfast was equally fraught with furtive glances from Katara, and by the time the rest came downstairs and Zuko was heading to the living room, he was ready for the day to be over. All in all, he was starting to feel like he was being treated like glass. He was back in the kitchen grabbing a cup of tea while Sokka, Suki, and Toph were finishing up their breakfast. Suki was the only one nearly able to go about her morning as usual, and Toph, well she had a different approach to the whole situation. She greeted Zuko with the usual punch to his upper arm, which neither of them were going to admit was slightly softer than usual. Only slightly though, of course.

"So what government secrets are you planning to spill in our top secret meeting today, Sparky?"

Zuko figures Toph had been perceptive enough to have realised that avoiding the subject was just getting painfully awkward, but was being kind enough (though she'd never admit it) to not ask about it directly when it was obvious that Zuko needed to broach the subject matter first. It caused Zuko to let out a heavy sigh, the first of many for the day. And rather than answer the question, decided to ask a few of his own. In no way stalling or avoiding the subject, of course.

"Do people have time now? It could take a while. We could wait until this evening if that's easier for people?"

"It's about what's easier for you, Sunshine."

Zuko should have known that Sokka was going to say that. He scrubbed a hand down his face and decided to get it over and done with. Grabbing a seat to the left end of one of the sides of the dining room table, opposite where Sokka was still sat with a knee support and a heat pack, he gestured for everyone else to join him and tightened his grip on his mug. Suki went through to the living room to grab Katara and Aang and bring them through. As they took their seats Zuko was starting to feel sick, the only thing really keeping him present was the smell of the jasmine tea in front of him and the heat on his hands from cupping the mug. With a hoarse voice and an inability to look up from the swirling tea in front of him he took a shaky breath and decided to just dive right in before his nerve broke and he ran instead.

"I'm assuming by the way you've all been acting this morning that Sokka spoke to you and warned you this was coming. This isn't gonna be easy to say, and definitely won't be easy to hear, so I'm not gonna hold it against you if you need to leave. But please don't say anything until I'm done, or I might just not be able to finish…
I'm sure you've pieced bits and pieces together but I feel like you all deserve the full picture. I guess it'd make sense if you've forgotten most of what I've said, actually. But I guess it'll be nice to have people other than the police who know everything… People I trust…
The first time we met I told you that my father disowned, disinherited, and kicked me out at 13 for kissing a boy. When the police visited the day after I moved in I told you that I was pressing charges against him for assault, battery, actual bodily harm, grievous bodily harm, assault of a minor, child abuse, attempted murder, and actual murder… And last night you all saw me have a flashback-panic-attack-thing because of a lit fireplace, and while I've no idea what I was saying - or judging by my throat today, screaming - I know what was likely."

At this Zuko had to take a steadying breath and big gulp of his tea, finishing it off. Steadying his gaze back on the empty mug on the table in front of him, Zuko started in as detached a manner as he could manage.

"It was a few weeks into term after winter break of my first year of high-school. I had a classmate over to work on a joint project for history. My dad was away on a business trip and my sister always took those opportunities to have a sleepover with her friends… I had a massive crush on this classmate, so I'd lit the fireplace to try and make it romantic, I guess… After a while, the conversation got off topic and he was asking me if I fancy anyone… I'd grown up with my father spewing homophobic rhetoric so I was too scared to say anything. Then he told me he fancied me… Fuck, I thought he was brave… Then he did something even more brave. He leaned over and kissed me… It changed everything…"

His breathing and heart rate had been picking up to a gallop and at this point Zuko started to tremble and tear up. He no longer had the warm anchor of his mug of tea. Having been emptied it had cooled quickly. Swallowing thickly he forced himself to continue.

"Jet pulled away and, judging by the fear in his eyes, I thought I'd done something wrong... But then I saw he was looking behind me… Before I'd even turned, my dad had started yelling and screaming at us… He must have come home early… He never came home early… Jet hightailed it outta there and then there was nothing stopping my dad unleashing his full fury on me… He'd hit me before. That I was used to… He'd yelled at me before. That I could deal with… He wasn't hitting me in an unusual way. He wasn't yelling anything that he hadn't yelled before. How pathetic I am, weak, cowardly, unnatural, shameful, dishonourable!"

Tears rolled down Zuko's face and he dropped his head to his chest, digging his elbows into the table, he gripped the hair at the back of his head with his fists, tugging it out of its messy bun. His scalp was still tender from last night. He didn't care. He needed the grounding sensation. He half sobbed, half yelled out his next statement.

"It was just an innocent kiss between two fucking children!"

All emotion drained from Zuko's voice and body. He lifted his head back up, dropped his forearms back to the table, and stared past everyone and everything.

"Suddenly he wasn't just hitting and yelling at me like normal… I don't know when he ended up behind me, but suddenly he was gripping the back of my head, practically ripping the hair from my scalp… I don't know when he forced me towards the fireplace, I just know that I was suddenly on my knees. And then my face was in the fire."

A singular gasp erupted by everyone at once, but Zuko continued, unhearing.

"I remember the smell of burning flesh in my nose and my throat… I struggled and screamed and begged him to let me up, promising that it'd never happen again, that I'd be good, that I'd be better, that I'd change, that I was sorry… I remember putting up with the burns across my left forearm because I was so desperately trying to push myself out of the fire… I don't know if he was trying to kill me. It sure as fuck felt like it… I don't know when I passed out. And I don't know what happened after… I just remember waking up in the hospital with my uncle crying beside me. And a hospital report saying I had a blood alcohol level high enough to account for me slipping and falling into a fire and passing out… And that if my dad hadn't come home early I would have died. That he saved me."

Zuko growled the last part out. A snarl curling his lip and a frown on his brow. He continued on, still void of emotion. Still staring into another place. Another time.

"I wasn't allowed to set foot back in my own home… I don't really know why I still wanted to at that point. Some twisted sense of loyalty to my father, some need to please him... I think I thought I deserved it, he'd done such a great job of teaching me how wrong being gay was... I was just so angry at everything, the world, my father, my uncle. Myself. And I hated them all just as much... Shit, I thought I'd managed to let go, get enough space from it all, or at least enough to feel safe enough to press charges. Even if it meant going behind my uncle's back… Betraying him by turning in his own brother… I guess I'm not as over it as I thought."

Zuko deflated. There was more to say, there would probably always be more to say. It was a lifetime of abuse that he'd just skipped over to get to the most relevant part to his breakdown the night before. He didn't know where to go from here really.

"I guess I was just telling you all that to try to explain why I freaked out so much last night… I wasn't expecting to see the lit fireplace, and as soon as I did it was like I was right back in that night getting burned all over again… Sorry."

Zuko hadn't noticed that Sokka had stood up at some point during all of that and crossed to the far side of the kitchen, facing away, gripping the edge of the counter with white knuckles, bearing his weight down on it. From this angle Zuko couldn't see Sokka's expression with his hair flopped forward in his face yet to be tied up for the day. Slowly, Sokka turned as he spoke, gritting out the sentence with a tense jaw.

"Why are you apologising?"

His face was stony. Angry. His eyes dark. Cold. The usually dancing molten chocolate, closer to cut smoky quartz.

"That was more than I think I meant to say, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I know that'll've been hard to listen to--"

Cutting himself off before Sokka could even interrupt him, Zuko was shrinking in on himself. Wilting under Sokka's intense stare.

"--Yeah, it was hard to listen to. How could anyone do that to a child?! How could a father do that to his own son?!"

Sokka crumpled, his shoulders caved and his face changed from anger to devastation. His next exclamation came out much softer, almost sorrowful, yet no less filled with indignant confusion.

"And you thought you deserved it?!"

Zuko didn't know what to say to that.

"For a long time I saw the scar as a mark of my dishonor. My shame."

Katara looked like she was ready to be sick. Aang was failing to hold back silent tears as they fell down their cheeks. Suki was now just letting herself sob behind a hand still pressed to her nose and mouth from trying to force the sobs not to break. Toph seemed to still hold the same anger that Sokka had shown moments earlier, and, though you'd never get her to admit it, it looked like there were tears brimming.

Zuko was genuinely taken aback by this response. He'd expected it to be hard to hear but in an 'oh fuck, that's a really graphic description of an injury' kind of way. He couldn't actually figure out what made them cry. At least Katara was responding in a way that made sense. Sokka and Toph kind of, anger was one of the few emotions he was definitely familiar with. But why would they be angry at his father, they don't know the man, haven't had to deal with him and his shit. Or were they angry at Zuko? That made more sense. He was reporting his own family to the authorities, betraying the only adult that had ever really been there for him, protected him, put up with his crap.

Then suddenly Sokka had crossed the room and had his arms around Zuko. It took a second to register that he was being hugged. And one by one the rest of the GAang got up from their seats and joined in. Even Toph forewent the usual punch to the shoulder and actually hugged him. Zuko felt his shoulder grow damp as Sokka's shoulders shook with what was presumably him crying. His sniffling confirmed this, and seemed to break the dam of everyone else who had nearly got their tears under control. Soon they were just a pile of six sobbing young adults crowded around their kitchen table in the middle of the day. Zuko felt his heart break at the gesture of these relative strangers still, showing him such caring. Even his uncle had never been so familiar with him, though not for his lack of trying, Zuko just never really let him. Now Zuko wondered why he had ever rebuffed Uncle, he'd never known hugs could feel so good.

Katara was the one to pull away first. The backs of her hands wiping away the last of her tears, and only sniffling a little at this point. Toph pulled away soon after, after only a split second of hesitation, clearing her throat and declaring that Momo needed a walk. Aang seemed to pull away reluctantly, making a point to check that Zuko was ok before checking on Katara, who seemed to like Toph's excuse and pointed out that Aang and her should probably walk Appa. That left Zuko, Suki, and Sokka in the kitchen. Suki took Sokka's previous seat across from Zuko, and Sokka slipped into Toph's previous seat next to Zuko, sat sideways so that he was facing him. They each took one of his hands and brought them together in a pile in the middle of the group. Zuko couldn't bear to look at either of them, choosing instead to look at their joined hands. None of them was even trying to pretend that they hadn't just been bawling their eyes out, occasionally sniffling or hiccuping.

Suki broke the silence first, joking through a wet laugh, that this wasn't exactly how she had planned on her breakfast going but that she was here for Zuko any time he needed her, and that she was so glad that he felt he could trust her after all he'd been through, and that he wanted to tell her something that was obviously so hard for him to talk about. Zuko just nodded and attempted a small smile in response, though it more likely came out as a bit of a grimace. Suki gave his hand a quick squeeze before getting up and pointing out that she needed to get to work in an hour. She gave Sokka's forehead a quick kiss on her way past and out the room. Zuko expected Sokka to leave too at this point. Or at least let go of his hand. He did neither of those things, instead taking hold of the hand that Suki had let go of. He reiterated all that Suki had just said. Made sure to point out that he wasn't just saying these things, or copying Suki, that he really meant it. Then his demeanour shifted. He was already being very earnest in his body language and words, but now he got serious. His face set hard. His axinite eyes grabbing Zuko's attention. Holding him there as if under a spell. Trying to tell him something.

"You didn't deserve that. Any of it. And from what you've told us of your uncle--forgive me if I'm overstepping here-- I don't think he'll feel that you betrayed him. If I were him, I'd feel proud of you. You're fighting so hard right now. You've already overcome so much, and you know there's still so much to come, but you're doing it. I'd only be worried that you're trying to do it alone. That you feel you have to do it alone. That you don't feel that you can rely on those who love you, want to be there for you, help you, protect you, support you. I think he'd want to be in this with you."

Here, Sokka seemed to lighten up a bit, a bit of bravado slipping into his voice. Whether it was an affectation or not, Zuko couldn't tell.

"Oh, and if your dad--what's his name? I don't think he deserves that title--if your sperm donor ever even tries to contact you again, never mind succeeding, I swear I will make him regret every decision he's ever made up until this point."

There was something under the bravado that Sokka had put on that told Zuko that there was a high chance that if his fath--Ozai and Sokka ever were to meet, it wouldn't end well. For either of them.

"You know, you're right, it's taken nine years of my uncle telling me that I didn't deserve it for me to actually start to believe it. That's why I'm doing this. But you're also wrong. After the way that I've treated Uncle these nine years, the anger and hate that I've spewed at him… It's only been the past couple of years that I've started to calm down, I kind of went off the rails after my fa--Ozai… Then last year. I don't know. Something changed. I went to college to get the qualifications I needed to get onto the course here. Not that I even actually told Uncle that I was applying to uni. I actually started to enjoy working part-time with him at The Jasmine Dragon… And then I turn around and move out secretly in order to turn his own brother in to the authorities without telling him that I was even starting to consider it?! I don't know how he couldn't feel betrayed by that.
He's the most consistent figure I've ever had in my life. Not once has he wavered in telling me that he loves me and is here for me. Even when I was at my worst or was being a petty thief..."

Their hands were still a tangle of fingers on the table between them. Zuko desperately wanted to be able to fidget with something and abruptly pulled his hands away to his lap to be able to roll the frayed hem of his shirt between his fingers. The action only soothed him a little, but at least he wasn't… Wasn't what? Wasn't being greedy? Wasn't overstepping boundaries?

As he ducked his head he caught the look of slight hurt that flashed across Sokka's face, but it was gone so quickly he didn't get a chance to comment before the conversation moved on.

"I still think you should go to him. I could drive you, stick around with the car as support, study in a nearby café or something. You could take an overnight bag in case it turns into a longer conversation than anticipated, and you'd just need to let me know by closing time… And if it goes badly I'll be there. Close by. Could buy you a consolation cookie or whatever the café has available?"

Despite the joking that Sokka ended on it was obvious that he was being sincere. Zuko nearly actually let himself consider the offer before turning it down. It would hurt too much to be rejected by the last good thing in his life from his childhood. The only good thing in his life from his childhood. Because that was the only outcome if he were to go see Uncle. Zuko had turned against family, against honour, against a natural way of life. Because if he was going to go to Uncle and explain, then he would have to explain everything, including why his father had branded him. And there was no guarantee that his uncle would ever look at him the same after that. And as much as it would hurt to be rejected for betraying his uncle, to be turned away because he was gay by the one person who he had come to count on for unconditional love? That would kill him.

Chapter Text

January

This had been Zuko's first winter break not spent with Uncle. Even when he still lived at home (Less and less these days did he associate that house with ‘home’, for a while the flat above The Jasmine Dragon had been beginning to replace that association, but now…), Ozai would begrudgingly accept Iroh and Lu Ten to come round and stay for the period. They would have a formal dinner, a formal gift exchange, and attend a formal party for Hogmanay. Despite all the formality though, Zuko always felt more relaxed, more loved, surrounded by his mum, his uncle, and his cousin. It was the one time a year that he felt surrounded by family.

This year though, had been spent with Aang and Katara - Sokka and Katara could only afford the flights home once a year and were due to go in July, Aang no longer had a home to go to so usually spent the holidays with Katara, Suki and Toph had gone home (Toph had ended up having to wear the ‘stupid fancy hanbok’), and Sokka had ended up going with Suki (and her girlfriend for some reason, straights.). Despite Aang's best efforts, Zuko doesn't think he's ever felt so lonely. Unwanted.

Zuko was always a little preoccupied this time of year. He sincerely hoped that it wouldn't affect his uni work, he'd never been smart, always had to work harder and longer than his sister, Azula, to get the results his father expected, or even to get results at all sometimes. But January always came with its own challenges, thoughts keep arising unbidden, coloured by the emotions of the past: weak, cowardly, unnatural, shameful, dishonourable. The exact words his father screamed at him so many times throughout his childhood, but so much more tightly connected to the night he was branded. It made the little things so much bigger, made it hard to concentrate, impossible to build motivation, exhausted him, things that wouldn't usually bug him did. Turning down extra shifts at Kyoshi Warriors because he was struggling with his uni workload. Weak. Remembering that he'd pulled out of going to bonfire night with the GAang because the noise and the crowds would 'get to him'. Cowardly. Catching himself pining after Sokka. Unnatural. Catching himself staring after Sokka. Shameful. Catching himself wanting to be with Sokka knowing he was in a relationship. Dishonourable.

"Do you like rice?"

Katara's voice pulled Zuko out of his ruminating. She was calling out from the kitchen where she and Aang were cooking lunch. It was the weekend, Toph was out wherever it is Toph goes on the weekends despite the snow, and Suki and Sokka were out on a date, ice-skating. Despite the fact that that meant that Zuko was the only one in the living room for Katara to be calling out to (unless she was talking to Appa?), Zuko still took a minute to register that Katara was actually calling out to him. It didn't help that he'd been busy daydreaming about… well that he'd been busy daydreaming. He unfolded himself from where he'd been curled up with his knees to his chest, his chin resting on them. Opting instead to cross his legs under himself, tugging his thick cardigan sleeves over his hands, and settling them in his lap.

"I'm second generation Japanese, I was raised on the stuff, what do you think?"

That had been meant to come out jokey, Zuko thinks it accidentally came out snarky. Not good where Katara is concerned. She seemed unfazed though, coming out with a plate of rice and handing it to Zuko.

"What's this?"

"Rice. I thought you were raised on the stuff?" She replied with a smirk and a quirk of her eyebrow.

Did Katara actually just joke with Zuko? Was the world ending? Also, what was he supposed to be doing with the rice? Is he meant to be holding it for her so Appa doesn't eat it or something? Katara seemed to take in his confused expression with no small hint of glee.

"You haven't had lunch yet, right? It's mango sticky rice."

With that she walked back to the kitchen, her long flowy blue skirt swishing around her, and both she and Aang came back with plates of their own to sit and eat.

Oh. He was supposed to eat it. Huh. Katara had given Zuko food. To eat.

After his momentary short circuit, Zuko started eating. It was good (Is this the only food descriptor he had in his vocabulary? Yes. Yes it is. Much like the Suaasat, food is either good or bad for him apparently.). Katara and Aang were chatting about the new term starting in a few days and commiserating over the winter break ending. An easy enough conversation for Zuko to join in on. Not that that actually made it easy for him to join in. Not until they started addressing him directly and asking questions. All the tension and awkwardness between Zuko and Katara seemed to have finally melted away over the winter break. Well all of the tension, anyway. This was still Zuko, there was always going to be awkwardness. It didn't help that Zuko had just been daydreaming about Katara's brother. What he's up to right now on his date. What it'd be like if that were Zuko instead of Suki. How, just because he's bi that doesn't mean that Zuko has a hope in a million years. How Zuko's literally not got a chance because he's currently out with the person he is very much dating. How Zuko needed to do something about all this. Soon.

Zuko didn't know why he was doing this. No, that was a lie. It had been building up for so long and he couldn't bear it if they were to find out before he'd told them. For them to find out that he'd been lying to them. Or for them to find out and think that he had been hiding it to get closer, to drive a wedge between them. For them to think that he had ulterior motives of any kind sent a stabbing pain into his gut and a squeezing sensation around his heart. He felt sick. Maybe he didn't have to do this right this second. It'd be so much easier to just walk back to his own bedroom door and forget about this for a little while longer. Or, more likely, to let it eat away at him for a little while longer.

It had become obvious over winter break that this all just wasn't going away. Five months of living with Sokka; five months since the first time Sokka coached him through the after effects of a nightmare, four months since that shared moment in the kitchen cooking Suaasat, three months since Sokka had learned about his disability and been there for the aftermath, two months since Zuko had been tortured hearing Sokka call him pet names meant for Suki, one month since Sokka had helped him through his worst flashback and panic attack ever. Five months of Sokka. And all that he means.

He was really doing this. He was about to change the dynamics of two of the best friendships - only friendships - that he'd ever made. He was about to change the dynamics of the whole flat. He was about to ruin everything. But it would all be much worse if he didn't say anything. That, he knew.

He knocked on their door and waited. He'd tried to pick as opportune a moment as possible. Sure they were in their room with the door closed, but they'd only got in from their date a few moments ago, and surely even those two couldn't be up to anything already, right?

He didn't have to wait long to find out. Sokka came to the door, face a little more flushed and demeanour a little more giddy than Zuko had been expecting, but he quickly sobered up upon seeing who was at his door. Clearing his throat he asked if Zuko was ok, because of course that was his first concern. He wasn't going to make this easy was he? Zuko twisted the hem of his cardigan in his fingers, eyes resolutely on the floor. This just seemed to concern Sokka more as he ushered Zuko into the room and onto their wee couch, taking a seat beside him. And of course Suki's first concern was asking if the two needed a minute alone to talk.

This kick started Zuko's brain into finally talking. He let them know that he'd actually come here to talk to both of them. And then he apologised, because apparently he was incapable of talking without apologising, no matter how many times Sokka, and the rest of the GAang, let him know that he didn't need to (weak). But this needed an apology, it really did. He was about to tell them that he had feelings for Sokka. He'd tried so hard to ignore them, and then to stamp them out (coward), but now that it was obvious that they weren't going anywhere, he needed to let them know. He didn't want Suki to catch him staring at Sokka just a little too long, completely unintentionally mind you, and to get the wrong idea that he was trying to or already had stolen Sokka off her. He didn't want Sokka to catch him staring and to worry that Zuko was thinking about him inappropriately or was trying to trick him into anything indecent (unnatural). He wasn't planning on coming in between them. He really wasn't. He just needed to let them know so that it didn't cause problems further down the line. And he was so sorry that this had happened. He hadn't meant it to. And he was so sorry for ruining the relationship that he had with the two of them. And he understood that this would mean he's fired. That he doesn't blame Suki for that. Of course she wouldn't be comfortable employing someone who felt like this about her boyfriend. And that he was so so sorry. Had he said that part yet? Because he really was.

After stumbling his way through his little speech, and resolutely only letting a single tear fall at the end (shameful), Zuko made to get up off of their couch, but was stopped before he'd even broken contact with the seat, by hands on each of his own. Suki had shuffled down the bed so that she could reach him, and Sokka was looking determinedly and concernedly at Zuko from his position beside him on the couch. He looked between them in shock and confusion. They didn't look disgusted, disappointed, angry, or any of the other emotions that Zuko had been expecting from them. Sokka almost looked, hopeful? And he was suppressing a grin if the bite on his lower lip and twinkle in his eye was anything to go by. Suki just looked thoughtful, like she was trying to work something out.

"Do you wanna go out with me?"

The question was practically yelled with joy from Zuko's left, and as such he had no trouble hearing it. Underneath the excitement was some fear though, but what could Sokka ever have to fear? Zuko turned to try and read his face, as if he would be able to see where the fear was coming from. Then he processed the actual question asked and the confusion hit.

"But you're dating Suki. That's what I've just been saying, that I don't want to come between you two!"

He desperately looked to Suki to try to silently communicate that he really wasn't intending on this outcome. This wasn't why he'd come here (dishonourable). But she just met his gaze with that same calculating one from a moment ago.

Again Sokka spoke up, still excitedly, but tempered with what sounded like hesitation and an attempt to be serious. "Do you want to date both of us? We've had both conversations, if that helps?"

Now Zuko was really confused. Was Sokka making fun of him? Sure they'd joked around and teased each other, but Sokka was usually so mindful of the line between teasing and outright making fun. And he was usually so good at reading where that line was for Zuko. The thought of Sokka making fun of him when he was so obviously being vulnerable and open with them made Zuko feel sick.

"What are you talking about?"

He turned to Suki to see if she was in on this sick joke, anger starting to take hold and line his face.

"~~~ Suki's girlfriend ~~~"

"I don't think he knows"

Came Sokka and Suki's simultaneous response. Unfortunately with Sokka on Zuko's left, and them talking at the same time, he couldn't process both sentences at once, and decided to respond to the one he fully heard.

"You don't think I know what?" Zuko practically growled out.

Feeling like he was missing half the conversation was starting to get on his nerves.

"Do you know what polyamory means?" Suki shifted her attention to Zuko from where it was on Sokka.

He was pursuing an English degree, he could figure out what it meant even if he didn't already know, and he said as much.

Then it dawned on him. Slowly and all at once.

"Wait, you have a girlfriend, as in. In a romantic kind of way? Not in a 'straight girl going clubbing with her girlfriends' kind of way?"

She laughed. She actually laughed at him for that. He had to give her credit, she really did try not to, but it still bubbled out from behind her hand. He was starting to feel faint from the emotional whiplash of this conversation. He needed to go lie down.

How dare they drop a bombshell on him like this. All he could feel is his stomach drop. He was suddenly terrified and didn't know why. He just knew he needed to escape.

Weak. Coward. Unnatural. Shameful. Dishonourable.

He quickly stood again and made to leave, turning as he got to the door, barely keeping the panic, fear, and confusion out of his expression.

Chapter Text

January

Zuko didn't even have time to close his door as Sokka caught him seconds after he got back to his own room. Hurt and worry flashing across his face, with something deeper, was it anger?

"You're both toying with me right now, aren't you!"

Zuko wasn't in control of what was coming out of his mouth anymore, but it was the only explanation, wasn't it? He was running on instinct. Instinct to protect himself. To get away from the threat, or to get the threat to leave. Push Sokka away before Sokka could push him away. Hurt himself before someone could do it to him. Because that always hurts so much worse.

"You think it's funny to take the mick out of someone with no experience. To remind them of how broken they are, of how no one would ever love them back. Of how ridiculous it is for them to even entertain the idea that something like that was ever possible! Because who would love someone with the broken personality and the broken face to match!!"

He was practically screaming by the end. But Sokka didn't leave. Didn't say anything. Didn't even let go of where he was gently holding Zuko's elbows.

If there had been any anger in Sokka's face it slipped away now. Pity, thought Zuko wryly, it's been replaced with pity. The anger and frustration of this whole conversation were starting to get to him.

Images and phantom feelings of pain were starting to float behind his eyelids. Memories of his father's beatings for being such a mummy's boy. Hearing him screaming at her for making Zuko turn out like this. For encouraging him to be such a sissy. Blaming her for him being who he is. Memories of his father's beatings for him being so ignorant as to think his mother loved him after she left. She left him. She was the only one to love him and she left. She didn't love him. Why would anyone love him?

Weak.
Coward.
Shameful.
Unnatural.
Dishonourable.

He didn't know why these memories were coming up now. He just knew that he needed this to end. He needed to escape (Weak.).

"It wouldn't even be a real relationship!"

Zuko had blurted this out in desperation to get Sokka to leave. He couldn't handle this conversation. Not right now. It was too much. He didn't even know why. He just knew that he couldn't. Couldn't what? (Coward.)

Sokka's reaction was immediate. He dropped his hold on Zuko and took a short step back. The anger that Zuko had thought was there earlier and had slipped away was definitely back now. His voice was barely restraining it when he practically growled out his accusation.

"You don't think poly relationships count as real relationships."

It wasn't even a question. Sokka was so sure that that was what Zuko had meant. But how could he think that of him? Of course that wasn't what he was saying. But to refute it would be opening himself up to having to explain yet another part of him that was broken to Sokka. Would mean lowering himself in his eyes. So which was worse? Him thinking that, or knowing the truth? To be honest, at this point Sokka's opinion of him probably couldn't get any worse (Shameful.). Zuko deflated, sank down onto his bed, and dropped his head into his hands, elbows digging into his knees. He was exhausted, too exhausted to even put any emotion into his voice, coming out as a low murmur.

"Of course I think poly relationships are real. That's not what I meant. I--my father--it was my first kiss. That my father caught. Any time I've even thought about kissing someone, it just sends me straight back to that night. Terrified that my dad can tell what I'm thinking and is about to show up. I can't even imagine actually trying to kiss someone let alone do anything more. And I have no guarantee that I'll ever want to. That doesn't even count as a primary school relationship!"

By the sound of the short sharp sigh that Sokka let off at this point, he was either finally disgusted by just how much baggage the older boy managed to pull out of the recesses of his mind, or he somehow found it funny just how broken Zuko was (Unnatural.).

"That sounds ace to me." Came the gentle, confusing, reply.

"Is there a reason that you're pulling out the retro slang right now?!" Zuko couldn't help but exclaim as he lifted his head to look back up at Sokka, so confused.

Sokka was definitely amused now. It didn't seem malicious in nature, but Zuko's nerves were so frayed from this disaster of a conversation that he couldn't deal with it. Just as he was about to snap at Sokka he got an explanation which, frankly, made a lot of sense to him. For him.

"Ace as in asexual. It's a bit of an umbrella term, and since I'm not part of the community I don't want to say too much in case I've misinterpreted or misunderstood something. But, basically. Not everyone gets sexual attraction. Or wants sexual contact, I guess, though I'm not 100% on whether that counts as ace or not…? Do you find yourself attracted to people that way but just don't feel comfortable with the idea of actually doing anything? Or do you just not find yourself attracted to people? Either one is ok. You're not the only one. I mean, you're not alone." Sokka seemed to have picked up Zuko’s habit of twisting the hem of his t-shirt between his fingers, and had what seemed to be a hopeful expression back on his face.

And suddenly, knowing that he wasn't the only person to feel this way, Zuko laughed. And then panicked. And his laughter turned a little manic.

This conversation had started because Zuko was desperate to preserve the relationship that he currently had with Sokka and Suki. He went into it knowing that it could change. Would probably change. But that change was meant to be that it would get destroyed. He was supposed to make them mad at him. They'd refuse to be friends with him anymore. Suki would fire him. He'd be unable to afford rent. They wouldn't want him as a flatmate anyway. He'd end up homeless because he couldn't go back to his uncle because he'd betrayed him (Dishonourable.). That was the disaster that was supposed to happen. Not this one.

It wasn't supposed to be that he discovered that Sokka was polyam. It wasn't supposed to be that he discovered that Sokka seemed to like him back. It wasn't supposed to be that he discovered that he might be ace. None of this was supposed to happen.

So many discoveries so soon after one another were too much to process. He was getting a headache. He found his head struggling to think. He was thinking through cotton wool soaked in molasses being fed through a subwoofer.

Surely he'd misinterpreted though? Ok, so he knows now that Sokka's polyam. That much he can process, that much he can accept, it doesn't change who Sokka is. What would change who Sokka is would be if he were attracted to Zuko. He's never shown any sign of that before. And why would he? Why, in any universe, would Sokka - perfect, goofy, kind, amazing Sokka - be attracted to someone as broken, as miserable, as lacking as Zuko? (weak) Zuko couldn't provide anything for Sokka. (coward) Not like Sokka could provide support, love, stability, kindness. All things that he's proven in his relationship as a friend to Zuko. And what would Zuko bring to a romantic relationship? It's not like he's brought anything to his friendship with Sokka. (shameful) Other than panic attacks, flashbacks, and just generally being a broken little shit. (unnatural) No. He couldn't do this to Sokka. Wouldn't do this to Sokka. He'd been right the first time. This had never been an option. Not for him. Sokka was deluding himself if he thought he actually wanted to be in a relationship with Zuko. Not unless he wanted to get hurt. After all, that seemed to be what Zuko did best. (dishonourable) He got his mum killed. He betrayed his uncle. And now he would hurt Sokka. He didn't know how. Not yet. But he knew it would happen. And that wasn't something he thought he could bear. No. He had to end this. He had to save Sokka. Sweet Sokka. He didn't deserve to be let down and hurt by Zuko. He deserved so much better. So much better than Zuko could ever even hope to be.

This was going to be hard to get out. Zuko wasn't sure if he'd be strong enough to cope with the aftermath. No, he knew he wasn't strong enough. But Sokka would bounce back. Would be spared from the pain. Sokka would be fine. Would be better than fine. Zuko just needed to bite the bullet. Take one for the team.

Closing his eyes, he ground out the hardest sentence he'd ever had to say in his life.

"Get out."

Hurt, pain, confusion, all the emotions that Zuko had been hoping to spare Sokka from flitted across his face as Zuko risked a glance back at him. And it broke Zuko's heart to see.

"Zuko, what's going on, talk to me?"

"Get out!"

Zuko was back to yelling. It was a much easier sentence the second time. Not that it still didn't hurt of course.

Sokka's eyes were glistening with unshed tears which Zuko refused to see as he got up and physically pushed Sokka out of his room, interrupting whatever placating remarks Sokka was about to give. Zuko hated himself for it, but this small amount of hurt for Sokka right now would be so much better than anything he would cause further down the line. He was doing this to spare him.

Zuko collapsed against his door as soon as he shut it behind Sokka. His knees just straight up gave way underneath him until he was kneeling against the door, palms pressed to it in front of him, forehead dropped to knock against it. He closed one of his palms to a fist and brought it up to bang against the door. Just once. Just to feel the sting. Just to feel a pain other than the one that was tearing his heart to shreds, forcing sobs to wrack their way through his body.

Weak.

Coward.

Shameful.

Unnatural.

Dishonourable.

Zuko didn't know how long he just sat in front of his door like that, but eventually he had to go to bed. He'd been so exhausted for the majority of that conversation, and mentally he still was, but physically his body was buzzing with a restless energy. He just didn't have the motivation to try and do anything about it.

Zuko didn't sleep that night. In amongst the bouts of crying what little sleep he did manage was plagued with nightmares. Though, for once, they weren't about his father. At least he could sort of comfort himself knowing that the worst was over.

The next morning

What Zuko didn't realise was that the worst was yet to come.

Seeing Sokka come down for breakfast, eyes puffy red with dark bags underneath and a face full of misery. That was the worst. Knowing that he caused that. Having both Suki look at him trying to hide her disappointment, and Katara glare daggers at him definitely didn't help either.

January was already a hard enough month as it was, what with it being the anniversary of the worst day of his life. It always made his mornings harder. His usual attempts to at least partially cover his scar with a fluffed up fringe felt all the more hopeless. Its usual dry itchiness wasn't even soothed with his morning moisturiser being additionally applied both mornings and nights. The constant reminder feeling more stark, more obvious, a stain of bright crimson on his pale face, that no matter how hard he tried to hide it, would always be there. Weak. Coward. Unnatural. Shameful. Dishonourable. Whether he managed to hide it or not. He knew it was there. A reminder that he was a failure, disgusting, broken. All of that seemed to fade into the background this morning though, like it was no longer important, no longer mattered. Not when Sokka looked like that. Drawn, paler, shrunken, like the life had been sucked out of him.

Any heated remarks that Katara flung Zuko's way were easily ignored, and immediately drowned out when he heard how dead Sokka's voice sounded when he told her to leave it alone.

The instant Zuko heard that voice, knowing it was his fault Sokka sounded like that, his insides caved.

This wasn't what was supposed to have happened. Sokka was supposed to be glad that he had dodged a bullet. The pain was supposed to be on Zuko. He was supposed to carry that burden. Zuko deserved all of the pain. Nothing more and nothing less. Zuko had known he was going to fuck up a relationship with Sokka. He had assumed that only applied to a romantic one. Not their friendship. Zuko had really fucked up.

Chapter Text

February

It was the end of February. More than a month since the confession incident (great, now Zuko had multiple 'incidents' in this flat in only six months). Things with Sokka seemed to be starting to get back to normal. Albeit slowly. Things weren't the same as they had been. A lot less banter, let alone casual touches, than they used to share. And Zuko hadn't been called Sunshine since that awful, awful day. Any progress that had been made with Katara up until then had been demolished and then some, and that had yet to even be started to be repaired. It probably never would be. Even with Sokka seeming to be trying to help Zuko repair his relationship with the rest of the GAang, despite struggling a little within their own friendship.

It was just under a week since Katara's 20th birthday but something was off. The whole flat seemed more sombre, Sokka and Katara especially. Aang was fussing over Katara more than normal. Suki seemed to be being more careful around them both, but surprisingly more so with Katara. Even Toph wasn't hitting Sokka as hard, or Katara at all. It was all rather strange.

Zuko was grabbing a cup of tea at a café (and wouldn't that always feel like yet another betrayal against Uncle) near campus in a break between classes when he noticed Sokka already sat nursing a drink, looking so small drowned in a hoodie for once. After picking up his own drink when it was ready, he hesitatingly approached Sokka to ask if he could join him at the table. Zuko still wasn't sure how much Sokka would put up with Zuko making the first move in spending time together. He had reverted to letting the other approach him. But today, Sokka looked morose. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, and his usually immaculate hair wasn't even tied back, left to hang limp, tangled, and unwashed. His hands were clasped around the drink as though it were a lifeline. And he was staring it down as if it had just told him that his birthday had been cancelled.

This wasn't the first time that Zuko had seen Sokka upset now, after all they had been living together for six months, and they both had their days that they felt miserable or anxious or anything other than the usual happy-go-lucky attitude that Sokka usually sported. But something felt off. Like this whole week. But more. And no one else seemed to be picking up on it. Not with Sokka at least.

Hesitantly, Zuko asked if he could sit at Sokka's table. He didn't expect Sokka to look up at him with such extreme sorrow in his eyes. And then for it to be masked over the second he made eye contact. It hurt. Both to see Sokka hurting like this, and to know that Sokka no longer actually wanted anything to do with Zuko. Not really. Not how he used to. If he ever really used to. Now, they were acquaintances. Flatmates. Nothing more. Sure they got along well. But that was all.

That didn't stop Zuko being concerned though. He still loved Sokka. Would probably never stop loving him.

Sokka signalled for Zuko to sit with a plastered on smile. Zuko knew he wasn't wanted. Not really. But he couldn't stop his concern for his… friend. So he hung his jacket on the back of the chair opposite Sokka and took a seat, mirroring Sokka's grasp on his mug.

He was acting like normal. Acting. Pretending he was fine. Zuko couldn't take it, but didn't know if he was allowed to probe. Not anymore. It was when he could smell that Sokka was drinking hot chocolate that he broke.

Sokka had once told him that he only ever drank hot chocolate when he was depressed, it was a comfort thing, the need to eat chocolate plus the warmth of a surrogate hug all wrapped up in one.

He seemed taken aback at being asked if he was ok. Like he genuinely thought that his acting was good enough and that Zuko would ever forget him telling him such personal information. His façade slipped at the question. His smile faltering, his chattering stuttering. He cracked. He let Zuko in. Not that Zuko could celebrate the moment after a month of being shut out.

It was the anniversary of his mom's death. Zuko's own half smile in an attempt to show his friendliness and concern fell. Oh. Of course Sokka wouldn't want to be around Zuko right now. Not when his--Ozai was responsible for this whole indefensible situation. He was probably in this café so that they wouldn't run into each other in the flat. No. Hadn't he said, that night four months ago, that he didn't blame Zuko or hold a grudge against him? Zuko trusted Sokka, didn't he?

So Zuko stayed. And he attempted to offer sympathy, comfort, empathy. Not that he was any good at it, he knew that. But he was trying. For Sokka he would always try. The only real way he knew of showing someone that he got where they were coming from was to share a similar story of his own. So when Sokka was done telling Zuko of his childhood, of his favourite memories growing up with his mom, Zuko shared his own. For the first time.

Sokka used to love helping his dad out on hunts, sure, but he also secretly enjoyed helping his mom with sewing. Something about the manual work with his hands. Fixing things. He'd always loved that. He would love seeing her face light up when he'd finished repairing something in the house. So much so that he'd taken to tinkering with things to see if he could improve them. The delight on her face when he was successful was one of the things that drove him to seeking a degree in the field of engineering. He'd never been much of a cook, but he loved surprising her with Akutaq, since even he could mix ingredients together at that age, and it was her favourite.

Then he opened up about how he never felt comfortable showing how much he missed her. That it always seemed like Katara missed her more. And he was the older brother, he was supposed to take care of her. But then it ended up being that Katara took care of him. To the point that if he were to imagine what a mother would look like, it would be Katara's face that would come to mind, not his own mother's face. And now, everyone knows how much Katara struggles with the anniversary, so he always feels like he's stepping on toes to show his own grief. So he removes himself. Lets them all comfort her. And he finds somewhere warm and comfortable to console himself with a hot chocolate.

Zuko's story isn't nearly as familial or feel good as Sokka's. He knew his mother loved him. Knew his father hated that. Knew his father thought that she doted on him too much, turned him into a mummy's boy. Knew that she sacrificed herself in a futile effort to save Zuko from his father's beatings. Knew that his father decided that killing her would be easier.

So Zuko told the softer story. The warmer story. The one where she took Zuko to the theatre, read him poetry, sang to him. Took him to the duck ponds, to the zoo (his favourite was the reptile house, and the turtles). He always tried to impress her. Not because he was scared of her like he was of his father. But because he loved the face she made when he did something that she enjoyed, her smile would get even brighter, her soft laughter that little bit louder. He knew how Sokka felt when he went on to pursue a degree that reminds him of his mother's smile. Zuko's mum's smile was the brightest when she was at the theatre, was the second brightest when she was reading poetry. Zuko never thought he'd be comfortable with theatre, he had always been too shy, too shrinking, even before the scar. So he settled for second best. He was used to that by then.

Something in the way Sokka was looking at Zuko at this point made him pause. The eye contact became too much. He had to dodge it by tracing the constellations of freckles on Sokka's cheeks, tried to read them like a starmap. Sokka's hands had crept forward on the table from their anchor on his mug. Zuko's were still tightly wrapped around his own mug. But seeing Sokka reach for him with such earnesty in his eyes made him want to reach out, bridge the gap. But he couldn't. So he didn't. So he pulled away instead. Ducked his head. Focused his gaze on his fingers twisting knots around each other in his lap. Reached out in another way. Opened up about something else for the first time.

He told Sokka how the murder charge that he's trying to press against his father is for that of his mother. He remembered their argument that night. Remembered her trying to sacrifice herself for him. She would leave if it meant she knew that Zuko would be safe. No one was safe in that house. True to her word she wasn't there the next morning. But not because she had left. No. Zuko had tried to convince himself for so long that she really had left. Maybe if he could trick himself into believing it, he wouldn't be in danger of Ozai finding out he was hiding the truth. Maybe he'd be saved from a similar fate. But Zuko had seen his father lift something heavy into the boot of his car that night. Had seen the speck of blood on the corner of the kitchen table the next morning. Could smell the bleach on the kitchen floor…

This wasn't right, he suddenly realised. He shouldn't be dumping this on Sokka when he was grieving. He shot his head up to stare wide eyed and apologetically at Sokka. Curses and sorrys streaming from his lips for daring to hijack and intrude on Sokka's grief. Sokka just gave a hollow laugh and reminded Zuko of how he hijacked his panic attack four months ago to dump on Zuko about his own mom's murder. Right. That did happen, didn't it. Looked like they were even now.

With the crux of the conversation over, all that was left was awkward silence. They may well have had a bonding moment just now, but more than that was needed to repair the rift in their relationship. There was still a chasm between them of Zuko's making. Sokka sat there looking better than he had when Zuko had walked in but he knew better than to assume this made up for the hurt that he had caused last month. He'd felt a stabbing pain in his heart every day since, and yes he was being dramatic, but he reckoned he had earned the right.

As he finished his walk to class, Zuko made a point of noting the date in his diary. He wasn't really sure why. Perhaps some naïve part of him hoped that Sokka would allow him to stay in his life long enough that he'd be able to be there for Sokka the next time the anniversary rolled around. Despite the glaringly obvious evidence that, given time, Zuko will fuck up every relationship he ever forges (including blood), he wasn't planning on making the mistake of, in the unlikely event that he was still in Sokka's life next year, forgetting something so important. He wasn't going to let that be the mistake that put the final nail in his coffin.

Taking his seat in the lecture hall, Zuko's mind wandered to parts of his conversation with Sokka. Particularly the part about trying to get justice against Ozai. Despite being given a monthly email with an update on the state of the case, it had been so long since there had been any real progress that Zuko was starting to think Ozai's lawyers had managed to make him untouchable. That all Zuko's strife, Zuko's betrayal of Uncle, had been in vain. That Zuko had instead brought Ozai's ire back into focus on himself. And now there was no way that he didn't know that Zuko knew about what had happened to his mum. And now Zuko was likely to share the same fate. Not that Ozai may not have already tried nine years ago.

Chapter Text

March

Zuko was curled up in the plush armchair that the GAang had clubbed together to buy a month/month and a half ago. They'd put it between the fireplace and the smaller sofa, facing in towards the coffee table slightly, so Zuko liked it for the angle. He had actually been surprised that they had all been happy enough to accept his share of the money rather than kick him out of the flat considering the tension that there had been at the time. It was kind of an unwritten rule that, despite this being a shared armchair, Toph had priority, and if you were in it when they came home, you had to get out. Sharpish.

It was just Zuko and Sokka in the living room today. Toph was home, but studying in their room. Suki was working, and Aang and Katara were up in their room being - as Sokka put it - 'oogie' ("You're a grown man with a girlfriend of your own, Sokka." "Yeah but this is my sister we're talking about!").

Sokka was fiddling about with the games system to set up another match for their competition. Since the conversation in the café, the two of them had managed to get back to being friends. It still felt a little forced, perhaps a little performative, but at least they were no longer avoiding each other. Perhaps that would have been easier to maintain though. Avoiding Sokka hurt. Seeing Sokka avoid him hurt worse. But what hurt worst was that nearly closeness. That gap that would be so easy to reach across but couldn't. Like a starving man being shown heaping plates of food that he wasn't allowed to touch. It would be so much easier for it not to be there at all. Even if either way he was going to die of hunger.

"Come on then, Sunshine, you ready to get your ass whooped?!"

Since confessing his feelings to Sokka, the little pet name, that he so naturally sprinkled into conversation again, was starting to hurt. Each time worse than the last. And apparently this was the one that kills him. With an anguish and tear filled voice, Zuko croaked out that he can't do this anymore.

Sokka knew him too well, knew that he wasn't referring to the games, knew that this was something deeper, more important. He turned to face Zuko and must have seen something in his face that scared him. He asked what Zuko meant in a way that betrayed that fear. His own eyes started to brim with tears as he sat on the sofa near Zuko and asked, practically begged, Zuko to talk to him, tell him what he meant.

Despite already being curled up in the armchair, Zuko somehow managed to shrink into himself even more, pulling his cardigan close around him. Ever the apologiser, he told Sokka how sorry he was for being too scared that day two months ago now. Head bowed and turned away, he wasn't sure if his small, rough voice would actually reach Sokka.

He wasn't even really sure why he'd freaked out so much at the time. Something in him just made him say things in a way that would push Sokka away. He already knew that Sokka thought of him as broken, so it was easy to use that. He knew that he had nothing to offer, it would be entirely one sided. Sokka deserved better. He had to push Sokka away for his own good, to save him from making the mistake of thinking he liked Zuko. Zuko loved him, he couldn't let himself watch as Sokka threw his own happiness away in order to indulge Zuko.

But now it hurts too much to keep this distance between them. It feels like a chasm between them. He feels like he's drowning in a pit filled with shards of ice stabbing his heart. And no, he's not just being dramatic. And he's so, so sorry that he took so long to see how badly he actually wanted to be with Sokka. To get over himself. And he understands that he lost his chance at even having a proper friendship anymore, that he hurt Sokka irreparably.

They were both crying now, not bothering to stop the tears rolling down their faces. Sokka was shaking his head, seemingly to try to gather himself enough to talk while also trying to telepathically communicate what he was wanting to say.

"You do realise that I liked you for months before you told me, right? And that I haven't stopped liking you. I was just waiting for you to give me a signal that you liked me back. And then when you did, and you shoved me out the door… I could tell you were scared. Since then I've been waiting for you to realise that I've been wanting a romantic relationship with you all this time, and still do." Despite having been crying literally seconds ago, Sokka's voice was steady, low, and serious, even if a little nasal from the sniffling.

"Well how was I supposed to know?!" Taken aback, Zuko had defaulted to his usual half-yelling.

"I literally confessed my undying love for you when I was sick! And explicitly asked you out when you confessed back to me like two months later!" Sokka matched Zuko's volume in obvious exasperation.

Logically, Zuko knew that these things both happened, but Sokka had asked him out to take the mick, right? And as for the confession, Sokka had been sick and delirious. "You kept calling me all these pet names, I thought you thought you were talking to Suki!"

"I already call Suki Babe, Sweetie, Gorgeous, Honey, and if I'm feeling especially cheesy Dear, you think I need more pet names for her?!" Despite them yelling at each other, Sokka couldn't seem to stop a grin slowly start to spread across his face.

"I just thought you used whatever pet name you felt like at the time! And it's not like any of them apply to me anyway! I'm not a sweetheart; I'm grouchy all the time. I'm definitely not beautiful; have you even looked at my face?! I'm older than you; so I can't exactly be 'Baby'. And while we're talking about nicknames, I've never understood why you call me Sunshine!" Sokka must have rubbed off on Zuko as he was flailing his arms during this exclamation. How had this devolved into such a ridiculous argument?!

At this Sokka took a sharp intake of breath and brought his hands, flat palms together, to in front of his face, eyes closed, before tilting his hands forward towards Zuko and opening his eyes again as he started to speak.

"Ok, Love, first of all. One, you are the sweetest heart to have ever lived. Two, you are the most beautiful man I have ever met. Three, you are literally starting to cry again from these two little compliments, so of course you're Baby - in the nicest way possible. And four, your eyes are the warmest golden honey colour, and I know you hate eyes being compared to pools or orbs so I won't, but they're like the literal embodiment of sunshine, how have you never noticed?"

Sokka leaned over the arm of the sofa and into Zuko's space on the armchair, he cradled Zuko's face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping the tears from Zuko's cheeks.

"And second of all you never lost your chance with me. I'm not going to lie. You really did hurt me pushing me away like that. But from everything that you've told us about your upbringing - while it's not a lot - it's still enough to tell me that you're going to struggle with intimacy, with communication, with vulnerability. But that's a romantic relationship for you.
I just need to know that it's not going to become a regular occurrence. I'm not asking for you to be magically fixed, don't get me wrong, Sweetheart, I just need to know that you'll try to tell me when you're getting scared, even if you don't know why. It sounds cheesy, I know, but communication is important. That way we can tackle issues together rather than battling with each other."

Was this really happening? It was a lot to take in. Zuko still had a lot of worries and questions. He'd never been in a relationship before, let alone a polycule. He didn't want to step on any toes, so resolved to be Sokka's friend when Suki was in the flat so that the two of them could be together then. And then while she was at her girlfriend's place, he could try to be Sokka's… boyfriend. Which isn't something he ever thought he'd be. He never thought anyone would want to take him if he was honest with himself. Seemed to be the theme of this evening. So he was trying to run with it. He still wasn't ready to voice these thoughts yet. But he resolved to try. Eventually.

Haltingly, in a voice that betrayed how unsure of himself he was, Zuko ground out something that he'd been thinking about since Sokka had brought up being ace to him all those months ago. If they were going to attempt a relationship, Zuko was going to have to get used to this, this Talking thing.

"Well then, in the spirit of communication… I think--I think I just don't. Wanna kiss. At all. I think… I think the whole thing with my father made me think that that was why I didn't want to kiss people. I think I thought I needed a reason…" Zuko had to keep ducking his eyes from Sokka’s earnest gaze, looking between the silver and steel in his ears, to once again reading the starmap of freckles dusting his cheeks, even dropping his gaze to the necklace he had recently found out was a polyam pride flag, anywhere but Sokka’s chestnut brown eyes.

"That's fair, Sweetheart. What about anything else. You were seeming to be getting comfortable with hugs and being squished up together on the couch before. Now you tense up whenever I go to put a comforting hand on you…" Sokka pulled his hands away from Zuko's face at this, and his grin had slipped, his brow twisting in what looked like guilt and longing.

Zuko didn't feel capable of speaking out a response. Instead, opting to show Sokka that he was comfortable with touches by climbing out of the armchair and onto the sofa next to Sokka, leaning up against him. It had been so long since he had let himself relax near Sokka that the action brought tears to his eyes. He couldn't bear to look at Sokka, but felt an arm snake around his shoulders, pulling him closer after a moment's pause to allow Zuko to pull away if needs be, he guessed. The comforting gesture reminded Zuko of when his mum used to hold him after he'd been punished by Ozai or bullied by his sister. She would inevitably be punished for 'encouraging' him. This memory floating up brought a sudden stabbing realisation to Zuko.

The tears that were already swimming in his eyes were too much and started to overflow as he sobbed out, "He'll hurt us. He'll find out, find us. He always does."

"… Oh, Sunshine, no one's going to hurt us… He can't get to us. You're ok. We're ok. We're safe." Sokka gently pulled Zuko down to lie in his lap and started to softly stroke his hair until the other's sobs quietened and his breathing evened out. He was practically falling asleep in Sokka's lap when the question came. "You haven't been sleeping properly these past two months, have you, Sweetheart?"

"When do I ever sleep?" Zuko laughed out wryly. "But no, I really haven't. I've missed you even if we've managed to get back to normal this last month."

The admission hurt. It was his fault after all. But he had promised communication, and it had always felt safe with Sokka. Zuko had always known that. That Sokka was safety.

Dinner that evening was… Interesting. Suki came home from work, so Zuko was instantly more reserved, moving off of Sokka's lap and back to the armchair until Toph was due to come down for food. Suki and Sokka (who seemed to be trying to restrain a cheek splitting grin by biting at his lower lip, and had his arm dangling off the arm of the sofa, brushing against the armchair) were on the smaller sofa, so that left the larger one when Katara and Aang finally made an appearance. Luckily at this point everyone was moving through to the dining table, otherwise Zuko would have had to sit next to them, and Katara was still even more frosty with him than when he had first moved in.

At the dining table, casual chatter had finally become the norm again, only as tense as it had ever been in Zuko's first month here. But then Sokka would look at him. And the way he would offer and pass dishes to Zuko. Was he trying to make it obvious? Zuko was starting to feel anxious. How was the rest of the flat going to react after Zuko had hurt him like that? How was Katara going to react? Sokka must've seen something in Zuko's face that betrayed his anxiety because he pulled back, and started interacting with him like a friend again. But Zuko didn't miss the hurt that flashed behind his eyes. Great. He was hurting Sokka again. Already. Seems that's all he's good for.

As soon as Sokka and Zuko were done eating, Sokka asked Zuko if they could discuss something. Upstairs.

As soon as they got into Zuko's room and the door was shut, they both started speaking simultaneously.

"I'm sorry--"

"I'm sorry--"

They both looked at each other, confused by the other's apology apparently.

Zuko hesitated, so Sokka continued.

"I'm so sorry. I should have checked with you whether you were comfortable with anyone knowing. I should never have plunged you in the deep end like that." Sokka's voice was reserved and filled with regret, but even so, he moved to hold Zuko at the elbows, his thumbs gently rubbing circles into Zuko's cardigan covered arms.

"Oh. I thought you were hurt or angry at me or something… I wouldn't mind the flat knowing if only I knew they weren't all mad at me, but…" Zuko’s voice was husky with remorse. “Though I guess Suki kinda has to know…"

"I'll need to tell her that I'm planning on dating someone. And she already knows that I like you. And you did confess that you like me in front of her. So she'll probably figure it out. But if you want I don't have to tell her explicitly." Was Sokka really getting cheeky right now? Zuko supposes he wouldn't be Sokka if he weren't being inappropriate to lighten the mood during serious discussions.

"No, Suki--Suki can know. And Toph. Toph seems chill with me. Aang is… well. Aang. He's chill with everyone. It's--it's Katara that I'm worried about… it's not like we could tell Aang and expect him to keep it from her. That wouldn't be fair on him. But Katara's your sister. It wouldn't be fair of me to make you keep something like this from her!" Zuko's thoughts went back and forth so fast he wasn't sure if what he'd just said had been comprehensible.

"So Suki and Toph. Not Aang and Katara. That's ok. This means we're really dating, right? I was just… I was worried that you were having second thoughts."

Sokka had a nervous grin on his face and was chewing his bottom lip. He looked so unsure of himself as he rubbed circles into Zuko's biceps. That hurt. Knowing that Sokka was so unsure of their relationship because of Zuko's past behaviour. How does he make up for that? What does he say to assuage Sokka's fears? Taking a deep breath he steels himself to be as honest as he can manage.

"Of course. I guess I'm still worried about how dating is going to work. What's actually gonna be different if I can't kiss… And stuff…?" He had to turn his head to the side, he couldn't keep eye contact with Sokka when he was laying all his faults out like this.

"That's not the only thing there is to dating, you know? Just because kissing is off the table doesn't mean we can't do other stuff. How do you feel about holding hands?"

Looking up, Zuko saw that Sokka was still grinning with his lower lip tucked back under his teeth, but this time there was a mirthful twinkle in his eye. Zuko was now blushing and even more stuttery than before, barely able to keep eye contact.

"You already know I like that." He ground out, frowning through his embarrassment.

"Cuddles?"

"Yes." He couldn't keep still with the embarrassment coursing through him, twisting himself out of Sokka's hold to fidget with his fingers and dig his toes into the carpet.

"Going on dates?"

"Of course!" Came the emphatic reply, as he whipped head up to glare at Sokka, that he immediately wished he could rescind. Or at least have the ground swallow him up so he didn't have to deal with how hard he was cringing inside. Sokka was taking far too much delight in this.

"Spooning?"

"Spooning? Umm… Maybe? I've never…"

When it became clear that Zuko wasn't going to complete that sentence, Sokka moved on, his demeanour sobering up somewhat with some nervousness once more.

"How do you feel about little things like if I were to give you a quick kiss on the temple or in your hair? Just a little peck?"

"Oh. Umm. I--I think that's ok. Yeah. I--I think I'd like that." Zuko stuttered out as a small smile grew unbidden on his face, impossible to keep in check.

"On the cheek?"

"... On the cheek… That's. Complicated." Frowning, he had to stop and think about that. But before he could, Sokka interrupted.

"You don't have to. I don't want you saying yes to something just because you think I want you to."

"Right. Then no--"

"And don't you dare say sorry for that! I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to trust me to be ok with you saying no to things."

Sokka was back to holding Zuko gently, rubbing comforting circles with his thumbs into Zuko's waist. His grin had softened into something more caring. Like he was looking at something precious. Zuko was feeling a little too seen right now, so deflected, staring at the bizarre pattern of boomerangs and kangaroos on Sokka's t-shirt.

"Cheesy." Said without the hint of a grin. Definitely.

"Oh, don't tell me you don't want the cheese. It's an essential component to dating Sokka! Sorry, you're just going to have to learn to live with it."

His grin was back to being goofy and sly. Did Zuko dare try to joke back?

"Hmm. Maybe I've changed my mind then."

Shit, he hoped that didn't backfire. For an awful moment it seemed like it did as Sokka just stood there. Eyes wide. Thumbs stilled on Zuko's waist. Grin only half-cocked. Frozen. Before bursting into hearty guffawing laughter.

Once Sokka was done laughing at Zuko, and it had died down to just the occasional giggle bubbling past his lips, he pulled Zuko into a crushing hug.

"Did my Zuko - the Zuko - just make a joke!?"

Zuko was resolutely not pouting at that. It's not like it was the first joke he had ever made. Even in the flat. Though it might just be the only funny joke he'd ever made. Then he noticed the first part of what Sokka had just said - 'my Zuko'. His Zuko. The thought made his heart flutter. This was real. It was finally real. And he circled his arms around Sokka's shoulders to return the hug. Wholeheartedly.

"Aishiteru." He whispered into Sokka's neck as he felt Sokka press soft kisses to his head. And if his hair got slightly damp? Well, neither of them needed to mention it.

Chapter Text

April

The showers were coming down hard. Looked like the saying was right. Then again, when was it not raining in Scotland? Oh right, yeah, the three days a year that summer lasts.

At least the days were starting to lengthen again. The issue with rising with the sun is that in the winter you rise much later than in the summer. Which makes any kind of solid routine hard. At least Aang wasn't one for being strict in their routine either. They quite happily joined Zuko for Tai Chi whenever Zuko gave their and Katara's door a polite little knock in the morning. And Aang was quite forward in saying that they may not join Zuko in the height of summer if the hour becomes too early. Zuko was ok with that. He enjoyed the mornings whether he was joined by Aang or not. He felt he was finally starting to get real peace from his morning meditations. Nothing had gone wrong in the month since Sokka and he had started dating. Admittedly they were only 'together' about half that time as Zuko still didn't feel comfortable acting as anything more than a friend when Suki was home. Maybe that was something that came with time. For now, Zuko put it out of his mind as he approached Aang and Katara's door but was taken aback when Katara opened it before he could even knock, wearing black leggings and a flowy blue cropped t-shirt over a black vest top, with a yoga mat tucked under one arm. She didn't look mad or angry or cold. Why did that make Zuko feel worse? She closed the door behind her as she stepped around Zuko to take up a position on his right, laying down her mat and getting into a starting stance. Zuko didn't really know how to react. He was socially awkward at the best of times. Katara said nothing. So they went through the Tai Chi movements in silence save for the music softly coming from Zuko's phone between them.

It was only once they were done and sat cross-legged facing each other, ready to finish with some deep breathing, that Katara spoke. Calm and cool.

"You hurt Sokka."

Oh crap. This is going to be bad. What she said was true though. So, what was Zuko supposed to say back? Not that it mattered since she continued before Zuko could put together a response.

"He's obviously forgiven you. I don't know if I have. If I can. But he trusts you. And I trust him. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm going to try. But you and I both know that you've struggled to do the right thing in the past. So let me tell you something right now. You make one step backward, one slip-up, give me one reason to think you might hurt Sokka again and you will not be forgiven. And I will make you regret it.
That being said; you seem to make him happy. I just hope it stays that way."

With that, she got up and went back to her room with a bounce in her step.

And Zuko short-circuited. She just insinuated that she knew that Zuko and Sokka were dating. Sokka was about to hate him all over again because before he knew what he was doing, he was already banging on Sokka's door. Luckily Suki was at her girlfriend's place so Zuko wouldn't have to deal with That, but Sokka would probably take about a week to forgive Zuko for waking him up at this time of morning.

As soon as Sokka saw that it was Zuko banging on his door with a panicked expression, he was pulling the other man into the bedroom, and frantically checking that he was ok, hands roving around Zuko's face and arms, presumably looking for any visible injuries.

"She knows. She knows!"

"Gonna need a little more info there, Love."

Sokka was holding Zuko by the elbows, as he'd done so many times before when Zuko was panicking or anxious, Zuko was holding Sokka by the forearms as he'd done so many times before when Sokka was supporting him both physically and mentally. Zuko moved his hands to Sokka's chest and let his forearms rest along the length of Sokka's torso as he moved in closer. His usual signal to Sokka that he was through his anxiety or the worst of his panic attack and was now just seeking comfort. Snaking his arms around Sokka's upper back, he stepped closer still, bowing his head to rest his forehead on Sokka's chest, tucking under his chin (one of the few times he actually liked being on the shorter side). Sokka reciprocated, wrapping his arms around Zuko's shoulders.

"Can I take it that this wasn't as much of an emergency as the banging led me to believe?"

"Katara said that I make you happy. Like she knows that we're together. You'll forgive me if I freaked out a little." Zuko replied petulantly.

"Well that sounds like a positive reaction to the whole thing."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you heard the rest of what she said…"

"Do I need to go whoop my sister's butt?" Zuko just chuckled into Sokka's chest at that. "I know that you're probably up for the day, but is it ok if I go back to bed now? I'm usually dead to the world at this hour."

"... What would you say if I said that I kind of want to join you? It was a short but very draining conversation…"

Sokka's response came back sounding very measured.

"...I'd say I don't know how Suki would feel about that happening in this bed, but that we could see if we both fit in your bed?"

It didn't take them long to realise that they… barely fit. After all, it was a single. It was only with them spooning and Sokka's back pressed into the wall that they didn't feel that one of them was about to fall off the edge. Though of course neither of them were about to start complaining.

Zuko was lying on his right, facing into the room, which meant that he couldn't really hear or see anything, it was awkward to say the least. Though, with Sokka pressed up against his back, arms wrapped around him, he felt safe. It almost didn't matter that he couldn't keep an eye and an ear out for danger. Zuko was almost surprised by how comfortable he felt with Sokka lain against him like this. Almost. He already knew just how much Sokka contributed to his steadily improving mental health, not just since they had started to date, but since he had moved in. Even with the recent two month blip, his mental health hadn't declined to the point it was prior to moving in. He'd been a mess back then. And yes he still has depression. And anxiety. And panic attacks (and PTSD if you ask Sokka, or probably anyone else in the flat, but he's maybe not ready to admit that just yet). But he wasn't debilitated by them any more. Now that he's feeling so much better, he's surprised that he could even move, let alone function to the level that he had been. Sure he had been content working at The Jasmine Dragon, but he'd also been struggling, and unable to admit as much to Uncle.

Zuko felt a slight rumbling, a vibration at his back timed with Sokka's breathing. Of course, even with the light streaming into the room, Sokka was asleep in seconds, snoring lightly at Zuko's back. Or maybe it was heavily. Maybe Zuko was glad that his hearing side was pressed into a pillow. Despite this, Zuko realised he wasn't going to be getting back to sleep. No matter how much that conversation with Katara exhausted him, he just couldn't sleep once he was up. So, uninvited, his mind went over the conversation again instead. Katara had said how she didn't know if she could forgive him. Or trust him. But that she was going to try. Sure she had also vaguely threatened him, but it was more than Zuko ever could have asked for from her. She had so much that she would need to forgive him for, and he'd broken her trust so badly. Unbidden, his mind wandered to Uncle. There was also a lot that Uncle would need to forgive him for, and he'd also broken his trust so badly. But he had a lot more of a relationship with Uncle under his belt than with Katara, more of a foundation to build back upon. Maybe if Katara could try to forgive him, then maybe… Maybe so could Uncle? Would it be so naïve as to hope that maybe Uncle wouldn't be mad at him for all that he'd done? Would it be so selfish as to hope that they could still have a relationship after all this is done and over? Even if it were, he wanted to try, but he couldn't, not unless he spoke to Uncle, unless he actually made an effort to repair their relationship.

He whispered to Sokka both wanting to ask now before he lost his nerve, but also not wanting to wake Sokka unnecessarily. Sokka groaned in response. Awake, but not quite fully. After a few gentle nudges from Zuko he was, though.

It was now or never. Shifting so that his ear was off the pillow and he could properly hear Sokka's response, Zuko took the plunge.

"You remember when I first moved in, you said you had a car that I could ask for lifts from if I needed?" Taking a deep breath, he continued without waiting for a response so that he didn't lose his nerve. "And when I told you all how I got the scar, and you said that I should talk to Uncle, and that you would drive me, and even wait for me for support if I wanted you to, and that you thought that Uncle would be more likely to forgive me than I thought, and that he probably wants to be able to support me--"

"--And breathe, Sweetheart. Yeah, I remember all that, of course." Came Sokka's soft interruption. And Zuko remembered to breathe. He felt Sokka shift behind him, felt a kiss pressed to his temple, and then felt calloused fingers gently stroke his fringe back from covering his face and tuck it behind his ear, avoiding the scarring as far as possible.

"Does this mean you're thinking about talking to your uncle?"

Sokka's voice was still soft, possibly from sleep, but he also sounded like he was scared that if he spoke too loud that he would spook Zuko into changing his mind again.

"My uncle hates me, I know it. He loved me and supported me in every way he could, and I still turned against him. How can I even face him?"

"Sunshine, you're sorry for what you did, right? How you left things with him." Sokka was still being gentle, but firm, like he already knew the answers to his questions.

"More sorry than I've ever been about anything in my entire life."

"Then he'll forgive you. He will. So… what's the verdict?"

"Yeah. Yes. I think I am. I think I want to. If you'll be there. As support. If that's ok?" Zuko was still trying to convince himself to follow through with his conviction.

"Of course it's ok, Sunshine. I'm so proud of you. I can only imagine how hard this decision's been for you."

"And it only took me four months, which is probably some kind of record!" Came Zuko's whispered sarcastic reply.

"Well then, we should go as soon as possible before you suddenly change your mind again." Sokka played along.

He was right though, the sooner they did this the less likely Zuko was to find reasons not to.

A few days later

They were sat in Sokka's car, a rucksack with overnight stuff in the back, parked opposite The Jasmine Dragon and Iroh's flat above. Zuko's fingers were practically tearing the hem off of his cardigan sleeve with how hard he was twisting it in his fingers. Sokka put a comforting hand on Zuko's knee, and gave a quick squeeze, a sympathetic smile playing on his lips.

Zuko had to look past Sokka to his right in the driver's seat in order to see the tea shop, ducking his head slightly to be able to look up at the painted sign above the door. He gave a squeeze to Sokka's hand on his knee, a tight smile, and a "Thank you, boku no ai, see you later.". After Sokka gave him a quick forehead kiss, Zuko took a deep breath to steel himself, and he was opening the door to step out onto the pavement.

Sokka called out a 'good luck' as Zuko ducked back into the back seat of the car and grabbed his bag. And then Zuko was having to force one foot in front of the other to cross the road. Sokka didn't drive away, waiting until Zuko was inside, so that Zuko knew that he had back-up and an exit plan if needed.

The wait after ringing the doorbell was nerve-wracking. The last time Zuko had had to ring to get into Uncle's flat was before the scar, when he used to come here to escape his father's tirades.

When Iroh did answer the door, he looked at Zuko, silent for a long moment, his face carefully blank, before stepping back just far enough that Zuko could enter but not far enough that it really looked like an invitation.

"Uncle…" Zuko's voice was hardly above a whisper, the sorrow and guilt that it held.

He didn't know how to continue, where to start. Eventually Iroh seemed to take pity on him, and receded into the flat, leaving the door open. Still silent.

"Pardon the intrusion." Zuko ducked his head as he followed after Iroh into the flat, closing the door and taking off his shoes in the entranceway.

No "Welcome" followed.

Uncle's flat was the same as when Zuko had left. The pictures on the walls of the two of them together felt like they were mocking him. The pictures of Iroh and his son, Lu Ten, felt like they were judging him.

Iroh had already taken a seat in his high backed armchair, facing away from the front door. Zuko stepped around to the second armchair facing Iroh, but dropped to kneel in a seiza position between it and the low table in the middle of the room. Balling his fists on his knees, he ducked his head, waiting for some kind of signal from Uncle that he was ready to hear what Zuko had come to say. After what felt like an excruciatingly long silence, Zuko decided it was now or never.

"I know you must have mixed feelings about seeing me. But I want you to know I am so, so sorry Uncle. I am so sorry and ashamed of what I did. I don't know how I can ever make it up to you, but I--" At this, Iroh rushed to the floor to pull Zuko into an embrace. "How can you forgive me so easily? I thought you'd be furious with me."

"I was never angry with you, I was sad, because I was afraid you lost your way."

"I did lose my way."

"But you've found it again… and you did it by yourself, and I am so happy you found your way here."

They stayed on the floor, Zuko returning the tight hug, for what felt like hours as they both sobbed into each other's shoulders.

It had been eight long months without each other, and Zuko vowed never to go that long apart again.

Eventually though, Iroh started to complain about his old joints, and they had to separate to actual seats rather than the floor. And then questions were needed to be asked and answers were needed to be given.

"So I understand that you decided to proceed with prosecuting Ozai with the abuse he inflicted upon you." Uncle only ever softened his blows when trying to keep customers happy, or to salvage relationships with people that Zuko had lost his temper with. Otherwise he was straight to the point.

"I know you will feel betrayed by me turning in your brother, and going behind your back to move out and enroll at university. And I know I can't expect you to testify against him--"

Iroh gently held up a hand with a serious expression on his face to interrupt Zuko.

"--I do not feel betrayed by these things, nephew. But I will admit that I feel hurt that you did not feel able to ask for my support in these endeavours. I suppose that I can see where you are coming from, however. With me not knowing where you were or what you were doing, there was less chance of Ozai finding you through tailing me. An act that I would not put past him once he found out what you are doing."

Zuko blanched at the thought, he was scared to admit to himself that it had actually been a factor in his choices, even if not the main reason.

"I wouldn't put anything past him at this point…" Here Zuko paused to gather his nerve again. He was finally ready to tell everything. "Uncle, I know that I have always refused to talk about the night that led to me living with you. But if you'll let me, I think I have a lot to tell you. Father branded me, tried to kill me I think… for kissing a boy."

Iroh's face crumpled. For a hot second Zuko was terrified that he was about to be told how disappointed his uncle was in him. But then. Then there was barely contained fury. And Zuko. Zuko was terrified and couldn't move.

"He deserves neither to be thought of as your father, nor my brother, after doing something as heinous as that to a child for doing something so--so innocent!"

Oh. The anger was at his father--Ozai. Zuko… hadn't been expecting that… Relief flooded through him, and he was suddenly somehow half crying, half laughing. He felt lighter than he had… ever really. He asked if Uncle would mind him staying the night so that they could fully catch up after they had spoken about Ozai and the trial. That alone could take more than just this evening. Iroh stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world that Zuko would be welcome to stay whenever he needed or wanted to. So, Zuko excused himself to message Sokka. After informing him succinctly about how well Uncle was taking everything and that he'd be staying the night, as well as thanking him for having the patience to wait in silent support, he, of course, received a slew of congratulations, encouragement, and even more support. Once that was done, Zuko came back to Uncle. Once more unto the breach.

And so Zuko spilled it all. In a similar story as the one he told his flatmates four months ago after that terrible storm. He wasn't afraid to tell Uncle of the types of beatings that he used to receive, or the words that his father used to use against him. He was able to go much further in depth than with the GAang. Until it got to the part with the fireplace. It was no less hard than the last time, or the time with the police. Maybe this was one part of his life story that he would never feel truly able to talk about without dissociating at least a little.

Iroh was furious again when he heard of how Ozai must have forced alcohol into Zuko's system somehow in order to cover up his deliberate and horrifying mutilation of his own son. He apologised for not wanting to have believed that his brother would do something so appalling. That he had been hoping against hope that Ozai's story had been true. And he apologised for not having got Zuko out of Ozai's house sooner, but that he had had no evidence of the abuse that Zuko would have been facing, and was worried that the authorities would have seen any efforts to remove Zuko as being familial kidnapping, which could have got Iroh banned from even having contact.

Despite being eight months into the process, Zuko was still dubious that anything was going to come of his resolve to finally seek justice against Ozai. Maybe precisely because they were eight whole months into the process.

"Do you think we'll have enough to actually get anywhere in court? There's no evidence other than the scars…"

"We also have your repeated hospital visits growing up - I may have started some investigating of my own. And of course, you also have my testimony that I knew something was wrong. I just did not have enough to act at the time."

"But the police would have already contacted you by now to ask for testimony." A mix of guilt and resignation rose in Zuko's chest.

"Yes they have. And of course I gave it. When have I ever done anything that would make you believe that I would not support you in your times of most need?"

Zuko felt that. Instantly, every memory of when Zuko had ever been in trouble of any kind, big or small, flooded his mind. Every memory of when he hadn't been able to process his hurt, shame, anything but anger and it had all been turned on Iroh as if so much poison spilling from his lips. And the one consistent thing? Uncle. He had been like a father to him. What a father should have been. A dad. He had been his dad this whole time. Not Ozai. It had never been Ozai. Zuko hadn't realised that he was crying again until the tears fell from his face onto his hands in his lap.

"Never. You've always been there for me. Always."

By this point it was late. Iroh and Zuko headed to their rooms. Zuko's was unchanged. The bed still made. Like he had left eight hours rather than eight months ago. This was the home he could always come back to. There would always be space for him here. He would always be wanted here. There would always be safety and a warm cup of tea waiting for him here.

Chapter Text

May

It had been a month since Sokka had convinced Zuko to go visit Uncle. He was no longer having to ignore and delete the weekly text and the monthly voicemail checking that he was ok. He still got the weekly text (though it was now daily), but now he was happy to respond. As for the voicemail… yeah, he was never going to pick calls up and he had told Uncle as much. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to Uncle, it's just that talking on the phone was hard. Both mentally and physically. There was just something about phone calls that gave him anxiety. And on top of that, it was hard to process what was being said considering he had one ear trying to understand everything that was going on, both on the phone and around him. That had been an awkward conversation with Uncle; why he had never admitted before now how his hearing and sight loss actually affected him, rather than trying to get on with it like he had always done in the past. Didn't want to appear weak, he supposed. Didn't want to burden Uncle, he knew. Instead they set up a scheduled time to have a video call. A time when Zuko would have privacy and enough time to not feel pressured as they started to discuss the trial and form a plan. They had now been given a court date after all. In four months time. September.

It was thanks to the anxiety that the impending date was giving Zuko, as well as the suggestion from Uncle, and encouragement from Sokka, that Zuko had finally decided that maybe, just maybe, he should seek out advice from his GP about medication and counselling.

On top of that, the anniversary of his mum's death was in just a couple of days. The first few years after her death, neither he nor Azula were allowed to be seen to be grieving. The official story line was that she'd left, not died, after all. But then the scar happened, and he'd moved in with Uncle, and there'd been space to grieve, but he was too busy being angry all the time. Iroh would try to convince him that anger can be part of the grieving process, but deep down Zuko knew that that wasn't what he was ever angry about. After a few years, he'd used up most of his anger, and was getting himself back on track in life, but was fragile under the weight of depression and repression and a shit-tonne of other stuff, if he'd let himself cry over the loss of his mum, then he would never have stopped. Now though, of course, he has the space, the emotional capacity, and the emotional strength to grieve. He also had outside support. Uncle and Sokka were there for him for the whole two weeks surrounding the anniversary, and with the help of his counsellor, he finally found himself able to say goodbye.

A few weeks later

Sokka and Zuko were alone in the flat. It didn't happen often. Toph was out, and, as usual, hadn't told anyone where they were going. Katara and Aang had decided to go on a last minute museum date because they were disgustingly cute like that. And Suki had had to cover one of her employees shifts due to unforeseen circumstances but would be back soon.

They were lounging on the larger sofa, mindlessly watching yet another episode of a nature documentary series because they hadn't bothered to stop the autoplay, when Sokka suddenly spoke up. His voice was quiet though, as if he hadn't meant to voice this particular thought.

"Does it hurt?"

It was immediately obvious what Sokka was asking, but Zuko had to turn from where he was leaning back against Sokka's chest, peering round to the right behind him with a curious tilt to his brow. He wanted to see what Sokka was thinking, what expression he had on his face when he asked. It seemed this action caused Sokka to realise that he had actually asked that out loud because he jumped to apologising, saying that he knew it wasn't a comfortable topic for Zuko, and he in no way meant for Zuko to feel like he had to answer. But as the silence lingered on it looked like Sokka was hearing an answer anyway. Zuko's face was fraught with indecision. He didn't want to lie to Sokka, but staying silent was an admission in itself and as Zuko watched, Sokka's face began to drop and it became evident that he could hear the 'yes' in the refusal to speak. Zuko knew it'd be more fair to tell Sokka, rather than to leave him imagining.

"There's a dull persistent ache, bone deep. The skin is dry and tight, and sensitive to hard pressure like lying on it, but touch is ok."

At this Zuko took Sokka's hand and went to cup it on his cheek, pausing on the way to read Sokka's face for any hesitation or disgust. All he saw was awe, compassion, and love. None of which he was sure he would ever get used to seeing directed at him so earnestly.

"The weather affects it. Pressure changes from rain or storms building will make the ache much sharper and sometimes even triggers a migraine."

Sokka's hand had landed on Zuko's face, his thumb slowly started to caress the area just under Zuko's eye as gently as humanly possible. Zuko held Sokka's hand there for a moment before lowering his own hand to Sokka's chest. His gaze followed, as he twisted Sokka's mottled blue tank top in his fingers, the intensity of Sokka's eye contact too much to deal with in such intimacy. He was almost relieved when the door opened and shut, signalling that either Suki or Toph had returned. Judging by the lack of yelling of the phrase "I'm back, bitches!", it was probably Suki. Of course Sokka didn't bother pulling out of such a familiar position when it was Suki that was returning, they were both secure enough in their own relationship and comfortable enough with their satellite relationships to not mind such displays. Zuko less so. He excused himself to go get a drink. When he got back he sat to Sokka's left as Suki had taken the right, where their heads had been only a moment before. He still felt that he was intruding on their relationship whenever Suki was here. It made sense to him that they took turns based on when Suki was here instead of at her girlfriend's. Maybe this was one of those times to communicate and have a Conversation that these two were always going on about.

But for now they could continue listening to the soporific narrator on the show that was still running, with Sokka sandwiched between Zuko and Suki, his arms slung over the back of the sofa around both of their shoulders, and a dopey grin caught between his teeth on his lower lip. Zuko looked over at the other two out of the corner of his eye. This, at least, felt comfortable, could be mistaken as platonic, he wasn't being greedy, relishing in this kind of contact, was he?

"Can we talk?" On seeing Sokka's hesitatingly worried expression, he quickly amended, holding his hands up in front of him in a pacifying gesture, "It's nothing bad! I just… I think we need to have one of those 'Conversations'. About polyam relationships…"

Sokka invited Zuko in to his and Suki's bedroom, this was a conversation for the three of them after all.

It wasn't easy, laying bare all his insecurities within the relationship. It took a lot of teasing out from both Sokka and Suki, with some delicately placed probing questions. And of course they were reassuring, and eased all of his worries without any pity. Though there was maybe some tension that Zuko could see held in Sokka's jaw, which, when asked, he waved off as being nothing that Zuko needed to worry about. So Zuko worried.

Zuko's comfort seemed to be Sokka and Suki's main concern, ensuring that they each knew what the others defined as platonic, romantic, and sexual behaviours so that boundary lines could be drawn. Zuko's face was nearly as red as his scar just from thinking about broaching the topic. Would it be worse for Sokka and Suki to start talking about it and treat it like it's the most normal thing ever to discuss with someone that you're not actually sleeping with, or for Zuko to go first so that he can just say his piece and bolt the second it got too uncomfortable?

"Umm, while we're talking about se--boundaries… Can I--would it be ok if I asked you two to not. Do… Stuff. In the shower… Or our shared bathroom. In general?" Zuko hated how much he stumbled through the request and just hoped that what he had said had been coherent.

"Oh shit, Sweetheart, yeah, of course you can ask that. Sorry. Do you need us to keep it down more in here? We've been trying, but please let us know if we need to try harder." Of course Sokka was immediately apologetic.

Can the ground please just swallow him up now? Please? He's not a prude. People can have sex all they like, can they please just not involve him? In any of it? Is it really necessary for him to be involved in discussing this? His face really did resemble a tomato now, and the blush was threatening to envelope his whole body.

"In that vein, boys, when I'm not here, since I know Zuko only has a single, which, let's be honest, isn't built to fit two grown adults, I don't mind you sleeping here, but I'd rather you two not have sex in my bed. Though I get that--"

Zuko needed to interrupt this thread of conversation. Now. It was one thing to sit through the embarrassment of hearing people talk about their own sex life. But something about hearing him involved in having sex with someone, even the thought, made a pit form in his stomach, bile rise in his throat, and an intense need to get away overtook any and all desire to continue talking.

"--Not something you have to worry about! There's only been a few times I can hear you a bit, so don't worry about it! I'm just gonna head off now! 'K thanks, bye!"

In his discomfort and rush to end this conversation so that he could get away, Zuko's voice had risen in both pitch and volume. His agitation couldn't have been more obvious as he quickly made to get up off the sofa to leave, but a large calloused hand around his right wrist gently held him back.

"Hold on there, Sunshine! I'm sorry that this is such an uncomfortable topic for you. But Suki doesn't know, and I'm not about to tell her in your place, but I think, maybe we should? And this is something that we're going to have to iron the kinks out of, though it doesn't have to all be done at once."

The soft lopsided grin that Sokka gave, and his grasp on Zuko's wrist, was enough to quell the rising panic. Letting out a huff, Zuko resolved to finish the conversation like an adult rather than running away from it. Sitting back down, he grumbled his way through an explanation for Suki. Not because he was being childish, of course.

"Sokka kind of helped me discover that I'm asexual and sex repulsed. Hearing you two talk about yourselves being involved in whatever sexual behaviour is embarrassing. And a little uncomfortable, but I can cope. But when you suggested that I might be… engaging… in that kinda stuff… I--I just. Can't."

Sokka's hand had moved from Zuko's wrist to his hand as he sat back down to Sokka's left, and it now gave a very comforting squeeze.

"I'm proud of you, Sweetheart." Sokka whispered in Zuko's ear, giving him a quick kiss to his temple.

"I'm so sorry for making you so uncomfortable. It wasn't my intention. Sokka's right, we do need to finish this discussion, but it can be done another day, don't worry." Suki's voice was apologetic and gentle in her reassurances.

With that, Suki gave a soft smile and rose from her seat on the bed, giving a quick squeeze to a knee each of the other two, she headed for the door noting that she was due to go out on a charity shop haul with Toph.

Zuko deflated until the only thing holding him up was Sokka's shoulder, and he turned his face to his right until it was buried in Sokka's chest, mumbling into it.

"Thank you, boku no ai, for just always being so… so You. You're always so patient, supportive, encouraging… Aishiteru."

He could feel Sokka's grin as he leant down to place a gentle kiss in his hair.

"You sound like you need a nap, Beautiful."

"And that's another thing we need to talk about!"

Sokka burst out into soft laughter, pulling Zuko closer into the side-on hug.

"Sure, Sweetheart, we can talk about that after our nap. On a bed that's big enough to fit us both properly."

Even if Zuko couldn't see it, he could hear the shit-eating grin Sokka must be sporting. Sokka was right though, Conversations with a capital C were exhausting and a nap sounded really inviting right now. So they both half-crawled half-climbed the short distance between the sofa and the bed, laying on top of the covers since they were fully clothed, and the sun was out and strong even if partially covered by clouds. And if they accidentally slept right through until Suki and Toph came home, then who was going to fault them for it?

Chapter Text

June

"So let me get this straight, you're Babe and I'm Baby. You're Sweetie and I'm Sweetheart. But then how is Honey the equivalent to Sunshine, or Dear to Love? Unless the first two really are just a coincidence and not meant to be parallels…?"

"Zuko, we're in two separate relationships, the first two are just coincidence. You're drawing literary parallels in real life and it just doesn't work like that."

"I guess… It just feels like too much of a coincidence, you know?"

"All I know is that I can't decide whether I should be offended or not at you being Beautiful, and me being Gorgeous." Zuko huffed a laugh at that.

Suki and Zuko were listening to one of Zuko's carefully curated mood playlists, sprawled languidly across the larger couch in an attempt to keep cool, Zuko's socked feet in her lap as she absently gave him a foot massage, her floaty sleeves and skirt spread about her. Zuko had his head tipped back to stare at the ceiling, arms spread; one over the back of the sofa, and the other draped hanging off the sofa arm. They were waiting on Sokka to get home from a late night lab, and for Katara and Aang to finish the grocery shop. Toph was out walking Appa and Momo so she wouldn't be bored waiting. The GAang was planning a movie night; they hadn't had one in a while, and were still trying to catch Zuko up with all the classics that he'd missed out on when growing up. They'd already been through this ritual with Toph, (whose parents had apparently decided that since she was blind, she couldn't enjoy movies?) but were happy to do so again. It was the classics that they were watching after all.

"I'm glad that you finally feel comfortable around us all now."

Zuko was a little taken aback by this random comment. He brought his gaze down to Suki from where it had been tracing the patterns in the crown moulding. His confusion must have been evident on his face as she clarified that she'd always noticed how he used to look on in jealousy at the casual platonic touches their group always shared. But how he'd always flinch or shrink away if they were to get too close to him. She made a point to note that while they knew it was his upbringing by Ozai that was at fault, it still hurt to see him be so scared of their attempts at caring gestures, especially for Sokka.

"It's good to see how much you love physical attention now."

She finished with a smile just as Sokka burst through the door. He made a beeline for the couch and leaned over the back of it to give Zuko a quick kiss on the head while he was still in surprise, and Suki a peck on the lips which she took in stride as she was used to his antics by now.

Toph came home soon after, interrupting Sokka's complaining about all the things that went wrong in his lab today, not that either of them understood, but they liked hearing how enthusiastic he was. Though they sometimes feared for their own and his safety, as well as that of the belongings in the flat, from all the flailing gestures that he tended to use. Toph's usual greeting was ended with an enquiry as to why there was no popcorn smell, which Sokka was about to go remedy when Katara and Aang returned. So, first he helped put away shopping. Then made popcorn. Sokka was helpful like that, and it brought a small smile to Zuko's lips.

Zuko hadn't even heard of tonight's film, at least with The Lion King his mum had taken him to see the theatre production, which Ozai had definitely not approved of.

Everyone took what had basically now become their assigned seats: Zuko, with Sokka and then Suki to his right on the three seater sofa; Aang and Katara on the two seater sofa; and Toph had practically written a certificate of ownership for the armchair.

They all settled in with their respective bowls of popcorn (trust Sokka to have memorised Zuko's preference after the first time they held a movie night just weeks after he had moved in, when he was still a stranger to everyone), and the opening theme for The Black Cauldron started.

As the music played for the credits rolling, and the GAang started chattering amongst themselves, Zuko was suddenly overwhelmingly tired. He slouched further into Sokka's shoulder than he had already been leaning, eyelids beginning to droop. Sokka gave him a light shake and whispered in his ear.

"Tired, Sweetheart? You seem to be tired a lot recently, is everything ok?"

"Mhmm. 'S jus' th' trial comin' up an' constantly goin' over it with Uncle an' the lawyer. 'S exhaustin'." Zuko half mumbled, half slurred into Sokka's side as he pressed his face in, in an effort to block some of the light and sounds coming through, which felt like the only barrier to him dropping off to sleep right this second.

"If you're too tired to head up to your room just now, do you want to lay on my lap, Sunshine? I think the GAang wanted to watch--"

"Don' even say it! Th' writing's terr'ble!" Was the very grown up response, not at all grumbled into Sokka's chest with a frown.

"Well, how about you lay your head down and turn to your right so that the light and sound will be muffled enough to not bother you? And then you don't have to listen to the 'terr'ble' writing." Sokka finished with gentle, fond, mocking of Zuko's sleepy voice."

"Katara doesn' like it when I take up too much room. An' I'd prob'ly just end up havin' a nightmare anyway." Zuko awkwardly whispered, still pressed up against Sokka's side.

He felt Sokka's hands push his shoulders away before he was confronted with an intense stare. Sokka looked hurt and confused, though Zuko couldn't figure out what he'd done or said wrong.

"I'm not gonna lie, she didn't like an extra seat being taken up when we were already one down. She got mad at everyone about it, though yeah, even if more so you. But Zuko, Sunshine, you don't have to shrink yourself for anyone. You know, that right?" Zuko thought it was fairly obvious that he didn't know or believe that, but he wasn't going to say anything when Sokka was being so sweet and sincere. He continued in a voice filled with much more affected bravado than the serious whisper of a second ago. "And surely, in a room filled with your loved ones is the best place to have a nightmare. Maybe we can stop it before it really takes hold, or if we can't, we can at least be here for you so that you wake up feeling safe and loved rather than alone and scared." Sokka finished his little speech with a cocky little grin.

Zuko still constantly questioned how he had ended up with someone the antithesis of himself. But he wouldn't have it any other way. If it hadn't been for Sokka's steady, if admittedly goofy, presence, then Zuko wouldn't have reconciled with Uncle, wouldn't have thought he was worth trying to better himself by seeking out a counsellor, and probably would have caved under the pressure from the looming trial months ago. Sokka hasn't tried to fix him. Not once. He's just. Been there. Consistently. Even during those two hard months after their fall out.

So Zuko agreed to a nap on Sokka's lap, shuffled down the sofa so that Suki was now on the left with Zuko's feet back in her lap, deaf and blind to the world with his right side pressed into Sokka's thigh. But he didn't feel vulnerable, probably hadn't done since being surrounded by this miss-matched group. Not really. He truly was safe here. On Uncle's request, Zuko hadn't told him where his new flat was, so there really was no way that Ozai would be finding him anytime soon. These were the thoughts that guided Zuko into a dreamless but also nightmare-less sleep. And for once, he wasn't too stressed about the upcoming trial.

When Zuko awoke again, it was to the muffled sound of friends. Of shitty TV. Of safety. He must have shuffled around in his sleep, able to make out the light level of the room through both of his eyelids and just about make out and differentiate words and voices rather than the muffled homogeneous soundscape that he fell asleep to. He lay still for a moment, just listening to what was going on around him, not wanting to alert anyone to the fact that he had woken up. Content to just listen. He could feel fingers stroking through his hair, nails gently raking against his scalp, the sensation nearly enough to send him to sleep again. His feet were also being fondled; a familiar light massage from Suki. Slowly he became aware that Sokka wasn't just absently stroking Zuko's hair that was loose from his bun. He was doing something quite deliberate with his fringe if the repetitive motions and meaningful pressure to his head were anything to go by.

He had no idea how long he had been sleeping, and similarly he had no idea how long he spent awake, simply listening in to his friends and enjoying being pampered. Eventually though, all good things must come to an end and Sokka must have somehow noticed that Zuko was awake as he moved his hands away from Zuko's scalp only for them to suddenly reappear again, to tickle at his ribs instead. Zuko jumped up with a decidedly grown-up, not-squealing-like-a-child-at-all response as he desperately clawed at Sokka's hands to try and pull them away from his ribs. Sokka responded by pulling Zuko upright and onto his lap, Zuko's back to his chest, and calling for the GAang to all attack Zuko at once. As Suki dove in, Zuko cried out, wide eyed with betrayal but barely containing his giggles as he futilely tried to wriggle away.

"Et tu, Brute?!"

How had Zuko ever thought that he didn't need this, didn't want this? As much as friendship with the GAang had been a struggle at points, this was also the best Zuko had ever felt in his life. He had thought he had been happy and content with Uncle, before the idea of pressing charges against Ozai had planted themself in his mind. Happy with Uncle and content to work part-time in his tea shop. He hadn't realised just how much he had been missing. Why Uncle always pushed him so much to try and make friends when he had been so adamant that he didn't want or need them. Sure, he had been right in saying that he had survived this long without friends and could continue to do so. But there was so much more to life than just surviving. It almost hurt to know just how much he had let himself be missing.

It was much later that night, as Zuko was climbing the stairs untangling the braids that Sokka had left in his fringe, that Sokka caught Zuko at the top of the stairs to say goodnight at his door. Zuko could sense some hesitation on Sokka's part though. He took hold of Sokka's hands between them and attempted to give them that encouraging and comforting squeeze that Sokka was so good at giving to him.

"Is everything ok, boku no ai? Do you need to talk?"

Sokka returned the squeeze and gave a nervous looking lopsided grin before catching his bottom lip between his teeth. He seemed to need to take a steadying breath before he could respond in an uncharacteristically nervous voice.

"So you know how Katara, Aang, and I are heading home to Nunavut next month for the summer? And how we'll be gone for like a month and a half? Well I had actually been thinking--and I cleared this with dad, Bato, Gran Gran, and Aang and Katara! I'd been wondering if? Maybe? You'd like to come visit? For a week? If you'd want to? You don't have to of course--"

Zuko interrupted Sokka's rambling, almost not believing that he was being invited on a family holiday. Maybe if he said yes fast enough Sokka would be less likely to change his mind. There were of course several issues to this plan though…

"--Sokka! Sokka, of course I'd love to! But--"

"--That's great! You wouldn't have to worry about any costs like accommodation or transport, just the flights--Oh. Wait. You said but."

Sokka had continued his enthusiastic explanation until he seemed to belatedly register the 'but' that Zuko had started on. His grin fell, as did his hands which had been - rather dangerously - flailing around gesticulating during his explanations. Of course, his continuation had solved the problem that Zuko was about to raise, so Zuko was quick to try and smooth things over, despite the new worries that it raised.

"I was going to say but I'm not sure I can afford it. I think I'd feel guilty not paying for accommodation or anything though."

"Well you'd be staying with us, it's not like we'd be able to cover paying for accommodation for you. It's just that there's nothing to pay if you stay with us. If you'd be comfortable with that…"

"I'll see what flights are like, if that's really the only cost. I can't promise that I won't still feel guilty though… What about Suki?"

"Will you two boys hurry up with saying goodnight?! Sokka's ecstatic that his boyfriend is coming to see his home. Zuko's guilty that he can't be a self-sacrificing edge-lord. Suki is tired and wanting to go to bed. Also, she's been before and would love to come again this year but just can't find enough cover for work and someone needs to make sure Toph doesn't go on a rampage. Besides which, Sokka and I will be celebrating our three year anniversary together just before he goes, so that makes up for it just a little bit."

With that, Suki swung back around the doorframe into her and Sokka's room, Sokka paused a moment longer, as if second guessing himself, darted a quick kiss to Zuko's forehead, and followed her in, a massive grin adorning his face. He suited it. Zuko was trying to hold back a similar grin from spreading across his own face. He felt like a teenager with how many butterflies, blushes, and smiles he'd been experiencing over the past 3 months, it's not like they were still in the fragile beginnings of their relationship. And yet there was a slight thrum of anxiety behind this joy and under his skin. A family holiday meant family. Meant parents. Meant fathers.

Chapter Text

July

Zuko is glad that he doesn't get travel-sick. Zuko is also glad that he can sleep on planes, trains, cars, boats, anything that moves really. That doesn't mean that he got a lot of sleep of course, it just means that he didn't get none. His nerves prevented him getting as much sleep as he'd have liked, partly nervous to sleep in front of strangers in case of audible nightmares, partly nervous because meeting the parents is a big deal.

A whole day's travel. Although to be fair a day is nothing when you haven't seen your boyfriend in a month. Sokka picked him up for the last leg in a beat up but sturdy looking flat-bed truck, and this was the only time Zuko let his nerves get the better of him.

"They're going to hate me." He mumbled miserably into the truck's passenger window, shivering slightly as the cold from outside pervaded the air despite the truck's heating, and fought its way through Zuko's thick red hoodie and jeans (Sokka was, predictably, wearing shorts, but at least his t-shirt had sleeves for once.).

"No they won't, Sunshine, they don't even know you yet!" Zuko didn't need to be looking to be able to hear the smile in Sokka's voice, or his conviction as if he were stating the obvious.

"Katara hated me when she didn't know me."

"Yeah well, she can be a bit over emotional… I can't believe I just said that! Don't tell her I said that, she'd kill me!" Sokka's voice had started off joking, but dissolved into panic in the second half as he realised what he'd said.

"1: Maybe you deserve to be killed for saying that. 2: I don't think I'd be able to stop her if she really wanted to kill you."

The familiarity of teasing Sokka somehow managed to make Zuko forget about his stress over wanting Sokka's family to like him for the moment.

"If you let her kill me then I can't protect you from my family hating you."

Until Sokka's slip-up revealed the truth that he'd been hiding. Of course they were going to hate him. For all the reasons that Katara had first hated him. They had every reason, every right to hate him. A shot of fear went through him at the prospect of what he was letting himself in for.

"So they are going to hate me!"

"No! That was meant as a joke, Sunshine. Obviously this isn't the best time for joking, especially about that, sorry."

Sokka put a hand on Zuko's knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. Twisting round in his seat allowed Zuko to see the sheepish grin adorning Sokka's face, an apology dancing in his eyes.

Stepping into Sokka's family home felt like stepping into the proverbial lion's den. These were people directly affected by the callous decisions of his father. He braced himself for the onslaught of hatred masked with politeness, of disgust masked with a layer of geniality.

He was greeted with smiling faces, kind chestnut eyes, strong handshakes, and hugs.

He was greeted by a stooped elderly woman, face lined by smiles, and aged by weather.

He was greeted by a warm smile on a face so familiar but not.

He was greeted by a tall man with eyes sparkling with mischief and mirth.

He was accosted by Aang and Katara.

Introductions were made by an overexcited Sokka to his grandmother, Kanna ("Call me Gran Gran." Said rather deadpan but with a warm clasp of both hands.), dad ("Call me Hakoda." Which Zuko was obviously never going to be able to bring himself to do.), and Bato ("Call me Bato." Said with a shit-eating grin.). The last of which was met with groans and remarks that he must have been waiting for that one, that they should have seen that one coming, and that he's not technically the one supposed to be making the dad jokes.

So far, no one was showing their hatred of him outright. Maybe they really didn't? Or maybe they just hadn't connected the dots with his name yet.

Sokka grabs Zuko's bag out of his truck and takes Zuko up to his room for a midday/jet lag/crash nap. Sokka's room was decorated almost exactly how Zuko would expect: posters on the wall that must have been there since his teenage years: of sports stars in athletic poses, wrestlers and martial artists; of bands on stage, bright lights and sweaty guitarists; photos of him with a variety of people, in a variety of places and poses (mostly goofy poses if Zuko's being honest); and a guitar in the corner, painted blue faded by age and use and sunlight, gathering dust.

As Zuko finishes taking in all the little details of Sokka's room, turning a slow circle in the centre, he comes back to where he started, facing Sokka who's leaning up against the door frame, arms gently folded in front of him, and with a look in his eye so fond that Zuko blushes. He looks like he's been staring at Zuko the entire time, just watching the other in his childhood bedroom, taking in all the decorations and memories.

"It was my mom's." Sokka says, by way of a complete non sequitur apparently. "The guitar." He nods towards the item and pushes off the doorframe towards it.

Sokka tells Zuko about how she had taught him how to play it, strung left-handed despite Sokka being right-handed. Katara had her necklace, Sokka had this. He hadn't touched it since she died. He touched it now. Picking it up and carrying it over to the bed as he sat down and gently wiped off the dust, Zuko joined him, sitting on Sokka's left, and couldn't help but watch on in silent wonder. He knew he was witnessing something significant, he just wasn't entirely sure what.

"Do you play?"

The question caught Zuko off guard, he had felt so separate to the scene unfolding in front of him, it was a shock to suddenly realise that he was part of it.

Zuko had taught himself to play. Ozai had always said music was a waste of time. Unless you were a prodigy or going to become proficient and use the extracurricular to improve your applications to university, of course. He remembers having to hide his guitar at the back of his wardrobe, and only being able to practice when Ozai was away. When he was young, his mum had always praised his clumsy playing, so after she was gone he felt like it was another connection to her, like with poetry, and so he practiced as much as he could up until he was kicked out. He'd had to leave it behind. His had been left-handed as well, though not painted blue, nor faded with age and use.

"Do you remember how to play anything?" Sokka's question shook him out of his reverie.

Sokka offered the guitar to him now. The significance roaring in his head as it grew and he still couldn't place it, couldn't identify it.

His hands were steady when they took it, though he felt that they should be trembling. Only one song came to mind. Edo Komoriuta, a lullaby that his mother had used to sing to him, the only song that she had helped him learn how to play. He didn't sing it now, but, haltingly, he played it. A few times, until he could get through it without stumbling or having to stop to remember. He could feel Sokka's eyes on him, silent, as he did. He still couldn't quite read the expression on Sokka's face, but there was an intensity behind those eyes as if they were seeing through Zuko, beyond him, something more than he really was in that moment, into the significance that Zuko couldn't read, as if Sokka were writing it.

The moment broke, as a yawn forced its way bodily through Zuko, Sokka just chuckled, gave Zuko a kiss to the temple, and gently took the guitar back to put away in its corner. He left Zuko to nap for a while, promising again that his family would understand the need, and that he'd be back in an hour on Zuko's insistence.

Too soon, Zuko found himself gently waking to a shaking of his shoulder and, when he rolled over to face the room, a fond and apologetic looking Sokka (sleeping alone again on a double bed, after so long with a single, had felt strange). When he was brought downstairs it was to Aang, Katara, Hakoda, and Bato playing card games on the floor around the coffee table in the living room, and Kanna finishing up cooking dinner in the kitchen/dining room.

"I was helping cook. You must be starving! Help me lay the table?"

"Yes!" Zuko cleared his throat and tried to appear even fractionally more chill. "Yeah, sure." Anything that made him feel like he was contributing at least a little bit. And so that he didn't have to attempt awkward conversation any more than was strictly necessary.

Dinner with Sokka's family was similar to the dinners shared in the flat. Seated at a large round table big enough for eight, it felt warm and inviting (and with Aang on the other side of the empty seat to the left of Zuko, he could be sure that the enthusiastic bald kid wouldn't let him miss any conversation). Lively, loud.

"So, Zuko, you're studying English literature."

All good things must come to an end. Here came the thinly veiled insults, the insinuations that anything Zuko did wasn't good enough, that studying English lit. was a waste of time. Zuko immediately rested his cutlery on his plate, dropped his hands to his lap, straightened his back, and finished chewing before looking Hakoda in the eye to respond, bracing himself.

"Yes sir." his voice was hoarse and tight with the stress of restraining any emotion from bubbling to the surface.

"Just Hakoda is fine." Said with a smile. "Sokka tells me that you're wanting to focus on poetry, is that right? You'll have heard plenty of his by now, haikus, right?"

There was something in Hakoda's tone that grated Zuko the wrong way. A twinkle in his eye, the same barely repressed smirk that Zuko had seen Sokka wear a thousand times now. He was mocking his son, Zuko realised. He bristled.

"Sokka is quite the genius with haiku. Being able to coin so many so quickly off the top of his head. It's impressive."

To his right, Sokka must have sensed Zuko's unease, the tension radiating from his body. He felt a hand gently grasp his own in his lap, as Sokka leant towards him to whisper in his ear.

"It's ok. My dad's just teasing me about being a sentimental romantic sap, Sunshine, nothing more. And you're allowed to keep eating by the way."

Zuko felt his cheeks blaze in embarrassment. He'd come here with the intent of showing Sokka's family that he's not like his father. Quick to judge. Quicker to pass judgement. Judge, jury, and executioner all rolled into one. Sometimes literally. And this is a family that knows that. Intimately.

If the rest of the table had noticed Zuko's curt brashess they didn't comment. A jovial voice came from beside Hakoda, on the other side of Sokka.

"What made you choose poetry?" Bato. Perhaps trying to get the conversation back on track, unaware of the pitfall he'd blundered in to.

"My mother. She used to love the arts; theatre, music, poetry. Studying them makes me feel closer to her." At this Zuko risked a glance at Katara, sat on the other side of Kanna from Hakoda. "While I enjoy theatre as much as she did, it didn't feel like a good fit for me to go into. And I'm not particularly musically inclined." Here, Sokka gave him a strange look.

When they finally retired for the night, Zuko was having to fight back a yawn every few minutes, but as soon as the light was out and their heads had hit the pillow, he was wide awake. Even pressing his forehead into Sokka's back to feel the rhythmic rumble of his snoring did nothing to help coax him into sleep.

Chapter Text

July

Rest had been grabbed in hours here and there. Eventually Zuko had had enough of tossing and turning and trying to sleep. It was getting near sunrise by his estimate anyway, so as quietly and softly as he could manage, he slipped out of bed, tucking the blanket back around Sokka as he went. He wasn't really sure what his plan was, but ended up finding himself out on the porch. There was a swinging bench that Zuko sat on and tucked his feet up under himself, having neglected to do anything logical like put on boots or at least an extra pair of socks. He watched the sky pinken, streaks of orange and what might as well have been gold painted themselves through the clouds as the sun began to rise. Rather than his usual Tai Chi, he greeted this sunrise with a lullaby, Edo Komoriuta. He hadn't sung it to Sokka earlier from shy awkwardness and embarrassment, knowing his voice was scratchy and rough even when singing, but here, now, he let the soft words flow. Slowly he felt the day's tension release as he let himself be swept away by the lullaby and memories of his mother singing it to him, by the end of it - despite the fact that the sun was now risen - Zuko felt that he might actually be ready for sleep. His internal clock was evidently confused by the time difference, plus the fact that the sun had risen around 2:30am, so he crept back up to bed, slipping back in behind Sokka, careful to keep his now freezing hands and feet to himself.

The next time that Zuko awoke, he had his arm wrapped around Sokka's lap as the other must have been sat up in bed. Something in his body language must have alerted Sokka to his regained consciousness because he felt the bed shift and dip as Sokka rearranged himself to hug Zuko. Refusing to open his eyes just yet, he lifted his head off the pillow so that he could hear, greeted Sokka, and could hear the smile in Sokka's voice as he was greeted in turn.

"Good morning, boku no ai."

"Good morning, Sunshine."

It turns out that he'd managed to sleep all the way past nine and it was now nearer ten, which has never happened before in his life because even in the dead of winter back home the sun rises at like 8:45 at the latest.

They spent a little longer wrapped up in bed and each other, enjoying lazy conversation occasionally punctuated by Sokka pressing a quick kiss to Zuko's temple or forehead or hair while murmuring soft "I missed you"s. Zuko couldn't remember the last time that he was on a family holiday where there was no rush. Ozai was always one to have a strict itinerary. All day every day, to make the most of where they were. All scheduled around his telephone meetings, of course. Even back in the flat, a lazy morning like this was a luxury, and Zuko couldn't help the slight pang of guilt that they should be up doing something. It was easily ignored though, with the obvious contentment and joy that rolled off of Sokka. It was infectious. Zuko didn't think he'd grinned this long and this wide in… ever. It felt good to indulge.

That day was spent with a tour around the area that Sokka had grown up, all his favourite spots pointed out, and the funny memories that were attached. And when they got back and the whole family was sat in the living room, squished up together on sofas and armchairs, chatting and laughing, Zuko felt happy. Truly happy. It hurt to know that this is what he could, no, should have had. But he had it now, and he was endlessly grateful.

That night Sokka looked pensive as they got back up to his room. He crossed to the far corner, to where his mum's guitar sat. Trailing his fingers lightly against it, his back to Zuko, he spoke softly, something guarded in his voice.

"Last night. You said you're 'not particularly musically inclined'." Here, he turned to face Zuko, his brows furrowed as if he were angry, but the tilt to his head suggested he was confused. "Why? You played my mom's guitar beautifully." He almost sounded like he was pleading with Zuko to understand something. Like the night before, there was something significant in this moment that he wasn't saying, as if he expected Zuko to be able to understand without words. "Play for me again? I love--really loved it."

Sokka's eyes shone, his grin was soft, dopey, and pleading. Zuko couldn't resist.

The next morning

The next sunrise and day was spent much like the previous, except Zuko had (not without some small amount of guilt) borrowed Sokka's mum's guitar to greet the sunrise singing again.

That evening was spent around a campfire, with hot chocolate, toasted marshmallows, stories, singing, and laughter. Zuko was happy to listen to the stories and add one or two of his own. He left the singing to the family, enjoying the sounds of their native tongue sung so freely and with such enthusiasm and love. He only wished he knew what they were singing about.

And the next

As it was with the second, so it was with the third sunrise. Zuko was curled up in the swinging bench, one foot tucked up under him, the other on the ground gently pushing the seat, guitar in hand. The sun was rising to his right, and as he was bent over the guitar, playing softly, his fringe would slip out from where it was tucked behind his ear, to fall over his scar. It wasn't something he needed to bother to move to see, so he left it there as he started to sing.

This morning was misty, the sunlight filtered through a cloudy sky; pale, warm, and inviting. As he was playing, Zuko thought he caught a small noise or two and a little movement to his left through the gaps in his fringe. Perhaps he hadn't shut the door properly, and it was blown open with the differing air pressures. For once in his life, he didn't feel wired to look and listen out for danger. His blind spot wasn't a weakness, just something that he occasionally had to work around. He stayed longer serenading this sunrise than he had the previous two, the mists elongating the colours and the atmosphere of serenity. He sang songs that reminded him of Sokka, of how he felt about the other man; songs of love and adoration. And if he changed the pronouns of some of the songs to fit their relationship, then that was between him and the sunrise.

Slowly the movement beside him solidified its shape into that of a person moving towards him. A person who had obviously been trying to stay in Zuko's blind spot. A person crouched in an odd position. A person with a very familiar and recognisable body shape. Zuko continued singing, continued playing the guitar. He knew he was safe, knew if Sokka felt angry or annoyed at Zuko borrowing the guitar, he would have said so immediately rather than hang around and watch and listen to Zuko's serenade. He was a little self conscious to be caught singing love songs, but even if it was too soon to say the words, maybe he could use this opportunity to show Sokka just how he felt, so he continued.

He was filming. Sokka was filming Zuko on his phone, the weird crouch ostensibly being to get the correct framing. The ridiculousness of the situation had Zuko halfway between a grin and a smirk, and as he finished the song, he took his lower lip between his teeth to give eye contact and flirt to the camera. It lasted all of two seconds before he couldn't hold back his laughter any more.

"Are you filming me?" He asked through his laughter and with a quirk of his brow.

Sokka must have stopped filming during Zuko's laughter as he lowers the phone with a slightly guilty smile. Like a child just caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"I don't think I remember consenting to that." Teased Zuko with a husky voice.

"I don't think I remember seeing you so confident before! What was that? That whole flirting with the camera? When did you get to be so smooth?" Was Sokka's indignant yet proud response.

"Well, obviously I got it from hanging out with the GAang. Maybe a little bit from you." Zuko's confident flirting demeanour slid off of him as he genuinely considered the question. "I dunno, maybe it's from being an entire day's travel, an entire fucking continent, away from my father... Probably more likely just from being around people that I feel comfortable with. People who give so much of their own energy that it's nigh on impossible to not be infected with their confidence. Even if it's only a little bit, and only in front of your boyfriend. Even if he was filming you without asking."

Zuko raised his solitary eyebrow on that last comment, curious as to why Sokka was even filming him in the first place. And if teasing was what got Sokka to spill, then Zuko was going to pour his all into teasing his boyfriend who was shrinking away from him, with that guilty and admonished look coming back in full force.

"No, I know, and I'll obviously delete it if you want me to! But I just wanted the chance to show you how good you are, how amazing you sound. That other night when you said you're not musically inclined, it hurt, and maybe made me want to punch Ozai all over again. I just wanted to show you through my eyes. Maybe make you see you how I do." Sokka had nearly pulled his head into the collar of his t-shirt by the end of his apology as he toed his socks into the grain of the porch decking.

"And of course you just so happened to be up at 3am. Down here. With your phone." Came Zuko's deadpan sarcastic reply.

"Kinda hard to miss when your human furnace keeps slipping out of bed in the middle of the night."

"...Fair. You gonna make me watch my singing now then?"

Zuko was dubious. No one likes to hear themselves talk or sing on a recording. And when they're talentless and just kind of mumbling along to songs off the top of their head as they stumble through playing guitar from memory? Well...

Heedless of Zuko's scepticism, Sokka squished himself into the space beside Zuko, gently taking his mum's guitar and setting it against the frame of the swinging bench.

Zuko apologised for taking the guitar without asking, the ridiculousness of the situation up until now had drowned out his guilt and fear that Sokka would be mad at him for doing so. It was quickly drowned out again by the look of exasperated fondness on Sokka's face at the apology.

"Kya. Her name was Kya. Just watch the video, Sunshine." Said Sokka gently as he turned to his phone and pressed play.

The smile on Sokka's face was the softest Zuko had ever seen. Cooried up like this, Zuko felt safe, warm, happy. It was becoming a trend, and he couldn't help his own soft smile breaking out to match Sokka's.

Chapter Text

August

Sokka had (after checking for Zuko's consent) uploaded his video of Zuko's - as he put it - Sunrise Serenade to all his social media accounts. He'd been trying (read failing) to convince Zuko to start a YouTube channel for the entire remainder of the week that Zuko had been in Nunavut. And had then continued his attempts over the phone the moment he'd dropped Zuko off at the airport.

What Zuko wasn't expecting was that, over the course of the rest of the week that he'd been in Nunavut plus the fortnight that it took for Sokka etc. to come home, his Sunrise Serenade had gone viral. Sokka was ecstatic. Zuko was… bewildered. Sokka knew what he wanted to do with this. Zuko… didn't. He didn't understand why anyone outside of their immediate friend circle (and Uncle) would want to watch and listen to him sing, let alone several thousand strangers. Sokka said he'd like to think that his little improvised intro before he turned the camera had something to do with it, specifically his off-the-cuff title of My Sunshine's Sunrise Serenade. He also said he'd like to think that it was because they both looked so good on camera, specifically he looked so good on camera. Apparently because he'd liked Zuko playing his mum's guitar so much, he'd sent Zuko home with it, and when he himself had finally got home, he'd gone straight back to begging Zuko to set up that YouTube channel with his new found fame, playing to the sunrise.

Truth be told, Zuko did like the video - it was artistically shot. It started with Zuko side on to the camera, weak morning sunlight filtering through the mist, head bowed over the guitar with only his fringe visible. Then, as Sokka got closer and the singing became clearer, the sunrise behind Zuko came into view. And finally, Zuko's face remained shrouded behind his long fluffy fringe for the majority of the video, right up until he looked up at the camera on the final bars of the last song and caught his lip between his teeth, even then only half his face came into view. He actually looked attractive for once. Mysterious.

All of this had left Zuko feeling rather overwhelmed before Sokka had even got home, as he'd seen the view and share count tick steadily upwards. Only Suki and Toph were available to offer any sympathy, unfortunately Suki was a traitor who took sides with her boyfriend on the matter. That just left Toph and her… unique method of comfort. Anyone that didn't really know Toph would think her to be abrasive and uncaring. Zuko was ashamed to admit that he'd seen her that way before getting to know her. He quickly found her to be deeply caring, tuning in to people's needs with an uncanny speed and accuracy. What she chose to do with this power was… unorthodox.

Somehow all of that added up to Zuko and Toph lain on the floor in the living room, decidedly not sober. Zuko had Kya's guitar, and Toph had… The mop bucket. For a reason that made sense about half an hour ago. A playlist was on shuffle in the background and they were both crooning along and strumming (or in Toph's case drumming) their instruments intermittently as they tried to play and sing by memory while high.

"You could do it for yourself, you know." Toph spoke up unprompted. "You could start a channel just to share your singing and playing with Sokka, since he's never up before noon so wouldn't have the chance otherwise. And the rest of us would be able to watch too… I think Sokka was right about your musical talent by the way."

The last sentence had been spoken so softly that Zuko wasn't 100% sure she'd really said it or that he'd heard it right.

"It doesn't have to be this big, overwhelming, public fame, 'Thing'. It can just be for fun, and for friends."

Yeah, anyone who knew Toph knew she wasn't uncaring.

A fortnight later

This was the worst idea in the history of worst ideas.

A double date.

How had Sokka and Suki convinced him to go along with this?

Zuko was practically tearing apart the hem of his cardigan the way he was worrying at it. He and Sokka would be arriving at the café that Suki and her girlfriend were waiting at any minute now.

Just before they were in view of the building, though, Sokka stopped them both. A gentle hand squeeze relaxed Zuko enough to leave his poor cardigan alone, and look Sokka in the face. Despite the obvious excitement in his eyes, he was offering Zuko the chance to back out if he was truly uncomfortable. His heart felt tight at that, but now in a good way. In a holy-shit-I-think-I-might-be-in-love way. Ducking his head to hide the blush rising in his cheeks he grumbled out a "let's just get on with it" and into the café they went.

For a couple steps at least, before all the colour that had just seconds ago rushed to Zuko's cheeks, now promptly drained away again, and Sokka crashed into his back where he was now rooted to the floor, barely through the doorway.

"Jin?!"

"Zuko!"

"So… I guess introductions are out of the way?"

Zuko's desire to flee was back in full force now, except his feet felt rooted to the floor. Simultaneously, his muscles were thrumming with the energy needed to make a break for it, and were also frozen stiff. His hand flailed desperately to grab hold of Sokka's for some form of grounding. Something to tell him whether everything was real, or this was just a new nightmare that he would wake up from soon. He was kind of hoping it was the latter. This would be the tamest nightmare he'd ever had. He could deal with this as a nightmare. As reality? Not so much.

Turns out a double date with the person that you'd had the worst date of your life with was not the end of the world. It may have felt like it when she was sharing the story with your boyfriend, but Zuko lived.

If Sokka's reaction to the story was anything to go by, Zuko would not be hearing the end of this any time soon, if ever.

"It was when we were, what, 16, 17? He had this whole emo vibe going, you know; surly, angry, life is pain, existence is a misery. All that good stuff. Including the heavy emo fringe, which I have to say, has barely changed! Anyway, I used to visit his uncle's tea shop, because I had a bit of a crush on him--"

"--Because normal people visit a tea shop three times in a single day…" Zuko muttered under his breath, unfortunately not quiet enough.

"Ok, so I have to admit it was a little stalkery the amount I was turning up, but you're the one that assumed that meant I was a spy for your dad, and your uncle had to tell you that I was there to see you."

"He told you that!?" Zuko practically shrieked in mortification.

"He also told me that he pretty much told you to ask me out." Jin was getting far too much enjoyment out of this if her teasing tone and smug grin were anything to go by.

"Because of course he did." Zuko grumbled with a petulant eye-roll.

"Now shush and let me tell the story! So, he'd finally asked me out - even if it was at the behest of his uncle - and I was so excited! He was fairly new in town, so I was gonna show him all my favourite spots. We went out for dinner, he sucked at small talk, and refused to tell me anything about himself until I pushed him, and even then I'm fairly sure he lied. And then I took him to this fountain in a square near my house. It's usually beautifully lit up by the streetlights," Jin's storytelling to this point had been excited, with a cheeky sparkle in her eye and a conniving grin on her lips, but now her face fell. "but you know the city council, it takes them months to fix anything, and at this point literally none of them were working. I was heartbroken. Reminder here, I was 16, hormonal, and dramatic. But not as dramatic as Zuko here. Like I said before, he was angry but I could tell he was a secret sweetheart which is why I had a crush on him. He must have seen how sad I was at the broken lamp-posts, and he just went up to the closest one and started wailing on it; kicking it so much it dented!" She had been growing excited once again, the energy in her posture growing to a climax until she was holding back barely contained guffaws of laughter.

"I believe there was some yelling of some choice phrases as well…" Grouched Zuko, slouched back in his chair with his arms folded high in front of himself.

"Oh, I definitely learned some new words that evening! After that though the evening went nicely enough. We sat on the edge of the fountain and chatted. You opened up a little bit more, though you were still obviously holding stuff back. Which I have to admit just made me like you more. Mysterious and all that." Jin actually gave Zuko a flirty wink and smirk at that. Which Suki bizarrely seemed to enjoy if her increased laughter at this point was anything to go by.

Here Sokka interrupted, obviously enjoying the story, but looking slightly confused under the excitement. He turned to Zuko and gave a quick little encouraging squeeze around the waist where his arm had been draped.

"I have to say, Sunshine, none of this sounds like a disastrous date, an awkward one sure, but…"

"She hasn't got to the worst part yet." Zuko groaned, hiding his face in his hands, still slouched in his seat, seriously contemplating just sliding under the table and escaping.

"It's the worst in a hilarious way. So it's obvious that the date's coming to a close. So I do what you naturally do at the end of a date." Zuko, still with his face in his hands, feels Sokka tense beside him and give his waist another gentle supportive squeeze. "And Zuko fucking backhands me as his apparent instinctual reaction to getting a surprise kiss!" Jin says with a huge grin on her face, and laughter threatening to spill forth, an expectant look on her face waiting for everyone to laugh.

"Shit, are you serious!" Suki has a look of surprise, but despite this is giggling through the exclamation.

Zuko drops his hands from his face to defend himself.

"It was reflex!" He can't stop the half laughter that comes out as he's infected by Jin's own uproarious laughter.

Sokka seemed to be waiting to take his cue from Zuko as his own scandalised laughter joins in last.

"I can't believe that's your first reaction, Sunshine! I mean, I can. But still!" Sokka exclaimed around a much more comfortable grin and chuckle.

"Cut me some slack! I--I mean I can't think of a reason why right now… but I'll think of something!"

"Aww, I'm sure you will. Anyway, he starts practically falling over himself trying to apologise, saying that I'd taken him by surprise, and that he didn't mean to. And I know, I know, red flags and all that. But I swear, I could tell that he was feeling genuine remorse, and that he really hadn't done it deliberately, he seemed as surprised by the whole thing as I was! So I offered him my cheek to kiss goodbye and that I'd see him around. To be fair, you did kiss my cheek, but then you legged it outta there as if your life depended on it. And then you started avoiding me at the tea shop. And then your uncle closed the tea shop. And I was crushed."

Jin had turned to Suki and pouted out the last line, apparently trying to inject it with genuine heartache, probably to garner sympathy from her girlfriend. It worked.

"We'd moved to another area of the city. Uncle still has his new tea shop there. You should visit. I'm sure he'd love to see you again."

"I'm sure he'd love to hear how our date went. I'm guessing you never told him."

It wasn't a question, Jin's smirk made it obvious that she knew she was right.

With as explosive a start as that to the double date, the rest of it actually passed comfortably, which Zuko could never have foreseen. He relayed as much to Sokka as they made their way back home. Sokka just gave him this sappy proud look, cradled the back of his head, and kissed him on the forehead before taking his hand for the remainder of the walk.

Chapter Text

September

Zuko wished that his high from the not-as-awkward-as-it-could-have-been double date had lasted longer. He also wished, even if he wasn't going to admit it, that the high he'd got from enjoying filming his sunrise serenades had lasted longer (He also wasn't going to admit that he enjoyed Sokka teasing him about his sappy song choices, and showering him with praises and compliments of course, but that was a little more embarrassing to hear, and slightly less believable. He thinks they both know that it's not just the sunrise that he's singing to.). But soon, all too soon, September arrived. And with it the intense run up to having to appear in court and face his father. At least he'd had a good time before everything was inevitably going to turn to shit.

If you asked Zuko what he'd been up to this last week? He wouldn't be able to tell you (He remembers looking into cold eyes in a face that he's seeing more and more every time he looks in the mirror.). He'd learnt early on in life that dissociation was a useful tool.

Not necessarily always a healthy tool, but it worked. Getting yelled at and don't want to cry because then you'll get hit? Dissociate. Getting hit and don't want to cry because then you'll get hit harder? Dissociate. Getting half your fucking face burnt off? Dissociate. Maybe he should have dissociated faster that time though (He remembers a scoff of disbelief from somewhere in the courtroom, and the murmurs that had rippled after.). Azula didn't need to learn to dissociate. Azula was perfect. Azula was good enough to not need to be disciplined, to not need to be put on the right path, to not need to.

He knew that the trial had happened. That it had happened over more than one day. How many more? Not sure. He'd been present at all of them, just not really present. The few times he did dip back into awareness during the trial were when he had to actively participate (He remembers the look of disdain pointed his way as the accusation of being drunk enough to black out stung more than it ever had before, and the look of triumph that fell from his father's face.). And even then it tended to be Uncle grounding him beforehand.

No one wanted to force him to be present more than absolutely necessary. They knew how much of a toll this was taking on him. They also made sure to let him know that they worried that dissociating this much was nearly as much of an issue (He remembers the anger on his father's face, a perfect replication of when, at thirteen, he'd felt his control in life ripped out from under him.). But they didn't press him, because at least this way he was functioning. With prompting.

A lot of that prompting came from Sokka. More often than not, Zuko would find himself being reminded to eat, sleep, bathe, etc. by Sokka. Occasionally though, the rest of the GAang pitched in. Sometimes he found himself watching Love Amongst the Dragons with Aang or, inexplicably, Toph (It's the only soap he'd ever watch and that's only because it reminded him of his mum. He remembers his father's look of shock as he'd revealed what he knew, and felt everything shatter.). Or he'd find himself sat at the kitchen table with food and a concerned looking Katara in front of him. Mango sticky rice. Suki had given him the whole month off of work, but he still needed his job at the uni library to feel less untethered, even if he'd had to reduce his hours and occasionally needed to be reminded to go to his shifts. Luckily this was all happening right at the end of summer break and was due to finish before uni started back up, so he wasn't having to juggle classes on top of all the other shit.

Eventually though, he found himself in a very real court room, with a very real Uncle gripping his shoulders with the biggest grin he had ever seen on the man's face (He remembers Uncle's look of seething hatred mixed with sorrow pointed at his own brother.).

They'd won.

They'd won!

The rest of the sentencing passed in a blur, Zuko found he almost didn't care how long Ozai was going away for, it was enough of a victory over him that he was going away at all (He remembers seeing the look of self righteous pride on Ozai's face finally break as he was led away in cuffs.).

Then he found himself outside the courthouse running down the stairs towards a Sokka with his arms outstretched to catch him. Whether in a conciliatory or celebratory hug, he was ready (He doesn't remember Ozai ever hugging him.).

Zuko launched himself into Sokka's arms, who caught him and spun him before setting him back down. He was grinning and laughing, apparently Zuko was also grinning and laughing. He hadn't even noticed. His face hurt but he couldn't stop either the grin or the chant of "we won, we won" over and over (He doesn't remember ever laughing with Ozai.).

Uncle had followed Zuko out, but at a much slower pace. A quick glimpse of Iroh as he was being lifted and spun around by Sokka showed him Uncle stopping at the top of the stairs out of the courthouse and taking a deep breath as if the air was different now. Fresher. More satisfying. (He doesn't remember feeling suffocated by Uncle.)

Zuko copied his uncle, taking a deep breath for what felt like the first time since the court date was set all those months ago. He was right to assume that the air felt different now. Free. Looking down at Sokka from where he was being supported aloft, (He does remember feeling supported by Uncle) seeing the twinkle in Sokka's eyes, which was no doubt reflected in his own, Zuko couldn't help but feel joy. Real joy. It reminded him of their time spent in Nunavut together. Where there was no pressure, just a sense of unadulterated love and connection. Sokka took his bottom lip between his teeth, almost looking unsure or conflicted for a moment before putting Zuko back down on his feet and giving him a quick kiss to the temple. Zuko wasn't naïve enough to assume that there was no chance that his father got out at some point, but here, now, with his feet planted firmly on the ground, and a lungful of fresh air, Zuko was free.

Uncle was over to one side, talking with their lawyer, while Sokka and Zuko waited by the car. Zuko had come back to ground a little bit and was catching his breath while taking some much needed physical support from Sokka still holding onto him in their traditional grounding grip of elbows and forearms.

Sokka had taken off his jacket and draped it over one arm as the sun's rays warmed them while they were waiting. Zuko relished in it, turning his face towards the sun to soak it up. As he did, he caught sight of his sister coming out of the courthouse. She looked furious. Hurt. Vengeful.

Zuko regretted leaving her with Ozai all these years. The first three years after getting his scar he didn't have much room to care about himself, let alone anyone else. All he had space for was anger and a desperate need to go home. The house he'd grown up in while his mum was still alive wasn't there anymore, hadn't been for years, if it had ever really been there at all. But Zuko had been desperate to get it back. It was all he could hold on to.

She stepped deliberately towards him, down the stairs of the courthouse. Her eyes never leaving his. He saw the same anger that he used to hold reflected back at him through her entire being.

When he'd turned sixteen, he'd felt himself inevitably drawn back to Ozai's house and when he got there, he'd seen that it hadn't changed. And that was exactly the problem. He left again. Azula had been the only thing that had changed. And not for the better. She had become more like him. He was crafting her in his image, and Zuko had been too naïve at the time to recognise that for the manipulation that it was. He should have taken her with him.

She reached into her purse.

Uncle had been the only thing those first three years that had taught him enough of what growing up should have been like for him to be able to recognise that everything was still wrong against his best hopes when he'd gone back. And he was the only thing after that taught him what relationships and love should have been like for him to be able to recognise that he deserved better.

A flash of metal.

Uncle was the only one who showed him the value of himself. Encouraged him to go to college to get the qualifications that he'd skipped out on in high school. Leading him to decide to go to uni. Ending up with him meeting Sokka. Sokka, who was looking at him like he was the best thing in the world. Like he was someone worth being proud of. Like he was someone to love.

Her eyes shifted focus.

Zuko's grin that had lasted this long fell. The world turned so slowly and everything happened so fast. He desperately shoved himself in front of Sokka.

A bang.

.

.

.

The air had been punched out of him. His insides were burning. Noises were happening. It was all fuzzy; too loud, too quiet, too much, too little. Lights and shapes were moving. They were all blurry; too fast, too slow, too many colours, it was all black and white.

.

.

.

Dimly, Zuko heard his name being screamed. Azula just shot Sokka. He felt the life drain from his legs. He'd been too slow. He felt sun-warmed, strong arms support him as he sank to the ground. He couldn't protect the one he loves. A jacket as a pillow on the concrete ground. Sokka's face slowly came into focus, hovering right in front of him.

.

.

.

"--ou hear me?! Zuko! Stay with me, Sunshine! Unc--"

.

.

.

There were so many noises, screams, voices saying stuff but it was all overlapping, too hard to make out, too hard to understand.

"--ed an ambulance, please!--"
"--ot! Someone's been sh--"
"--ive them some space, move back pl--"
"--ur eyes, please, Baby! Iroh, I can't--he's not--!"

He needed to get himself together, Sokka needed him right now. He couldn't lose him, not after everything they'd been through.

.

.

.

Breathing was hard. Ragged. Zuko was having to fight to fill his lungs with enough oxygen to wheeze out broken sentences.

"I'm fine… I'm ok… Just a bit winded… Don't cry… We won!"

Sounds were coming in and out of focus, it was getting hard to concentrate. Even Sokka's face was hard to keep in focus. Zuko needed to say something to get Sokka to hang on, at least for a little while longer. How inconvenient to be having a panic attack right now. He reached up to cup Sokka's face, gently stroking away the tears. He left a smear of red behind.

"Hey... you have to... promise me something."

"Oh fuck, please no, Baby, you're gonna be ok!"

"Hey! It's nothing bad… I swear… But you have to promise me… that you'll take me to the zoo… As a congratulations present… I wanna see the turtles."

Sokka choked out a wet laugh. There was no smile on his face to match. He still looked like he was going to cry.

.

.

.

Car horns.

Yelling.

The screeching beeps of a Pelican Crossing.

Crying.

Buses rumbling past.

A familiar voice chanting a familiar mantra.

Bicycle bells.

Desperate begging.

.

.

.

"Open your eyes, stay with me Sweetheart!"

"'m still here… why're you topless?... I know it's September… 'n' you're from th'Arctic circle… but 's not hot enough… fer taps aff"

"I needed something to stem the bleeding, Sunshine."

Zuko thinks somewhere in the back of his mind, that maybe if everything weren't so hard to grasp right now, that the tremble in Sokka's voice would be more concerning. He vaguely notices Sokka's hands pressed into his chest, and that it looked like someone had maybe spilled some red paint. A lot of red paint. Sokka's arms were covered in it, and so was Zuko's chest.

He couldn't really feel Sokka's hands on him, even though it looked like Sokka was pressing into him with practically his whole body weight. And wasn't that a shame. Sokka had such nice hands. All he could feel was the inability to breathe and that sensation of being burned from the inside. And more red paint was coming from somewhere?

"Don't close your eyes, baby, please! Stay with me!"

.

.

.

It was getting harder to keep his eyes open. Sokka knew how tiring Zuko had found this whole trial business. It had been dragging on now for more than a year, and the last four months of it all had been intense. You couldn't blame him for wanting, no, needing, to take a nap.

He just needed to close his eyes for a bit.

Just for a moment.

Not forever.

Just for a little while.

.

.

.

Chapter Text

September

Sokka comes into view on the screen holding a camera selfie style. He looks tired. Haggard. His usual close shave is unkempt, stubble visible along his jawline. His undercut is tied back as usual but is haphazard with flyaways hanging over his forehead, and the sides haven't been shaved recently. His eyes are a dull, red lined, imitation of their usual mahogany brown. His smile is small, sad, affected. He gives an awkward wave with his free hand to the camera as he starts to address it.

"Hi, Sokka here. Just thought I'd give you all an update as to what's been going on. I know some of you local followers saw the news coverage of the Oshiro vs Oshiro trial. And the… the 'incident' that followed outside the courthouse…"

Here he takes a shaky breath as if to steady his nerves. He tucks his free hand into his worn and faded blue hoodie pocket. The rest of his speech is directed somewhere off-camera.

"Even if you haven't seen the news, I know you've all been missing your Sunrise Serenades, and the new Tai Chi lessons that Zuko had started. I know I've missed them too. We'd even been planning on doing a serenade together." A thick swallow and eyes to the ceiling, tears threatening to spill over.

Last week

As usual, Zuko awoke with the sun on his face. Not as usual, Zuko was too tired to even think about trying to open his eyes. He felt heavy, exhausted both mentally and physically. And somehow emotionally. Fighting through the grogginess, he began to realise that despite his body feeling tired, and the exhaustion clawing at him, his thoughts and head felt floaty. In the way that, if you were to try to pick up an incredibly heavy looking rock, only for it to be a well disguised sponge; the unexpected lightness making it feel as though it were floating up of its own volition.

Slowly he became more aware of his surroundings, the sun just a little too bright this morning for him to want to open his eyes yet, left only noises slowly trickling through to his consciousness instead. Usually his bedroom was quiet, perhaps the humming of his laptop if he'd forgotten to turn it off, the buzzing of electricity through the cheap extension power cord running under his bed to plug in his phone to charge at night. Nothing else, no ticking clock, and at the time that he usually woke up, no shuffling or voices from the rooms on the other side of his walls. Which made the noises that were currently filtering through to his exhausted mind all the more strange.

First, to his right, was a soft sniffling, as if someone was sat next to him with a cold.

Second, a muffled electronic beeping, probably on his left, as if someone were playing an old style games console. Had he fallen asleep in the living room last night? Wracking his brain, the last thing he remembered was the court case. They'd won, right? Perhaps in celebration of Ozai being locked up, he'd foregone his usual tee-total conviction and had got drunk in celebration, passed out in the living room, and the fogginess and exhaustion is him waking up hungover. Something about that didn't sit right, though.

Especially since third, despite definitely coming from his left, since it sounded like it were miles away and underwater, was Uncle's unmistakable snoring. Despite all the hard work and effort that Uncle had put in, and the undeniable fact that he deserved to celebrate just as much as Zuko himself, there was no way that he would join and stay for a heavy drinking session.

Just thinking about opening his eyes felt like a monumental effort and sent a wave of nausea through him, making him groan. Rather delicately. Frankly it was more of a reedy whine. A pressure tightening around his right hand made him realise that it had been held in something's grasp this whole time. And then, suddenly, his senses were filled with Sokka. Sokka's voice, Sokka's smell, Sokka's touch, Sokka's face. There were tears streaming down it and his eyes, red lined and puffy, were in direct conflict with the overjoyed smile stretched across his face. It was Sokka's hand gripping Zuko's. Sokka's sniffling to one side a second ago, though not from a cold but from crying. Sokka's voice that now filled the room, heartbreak and relief all rolled into one as he repeated Zuko's name as if it were giving Sokka life. By the sound of it, maybe he thought it were giving Zuko life.

"Sokka, you're crying!" Zuko's voice was even more raspy than usual from what felt like a lack of use and dryness.

"Nephew!" Suddenly there was a vice-like grip on Zuko's left arm, and the unexpected voice had him flinching violently. "Ah! Sorry for scaring you. In my haste and relief I was inconsiderate but I am just so overjoyed to see you awake, Zuko!" Iroh half sobbed out as he wiped at his eyes with his kimono sleeves, scrubbing not just tears but also sleep from his eyes.

"What…? Happened? Where--Where am I?"

Even in his groggy state, and with Uncle and Sokka on either side of him, Zuko could still see the worried glances that Uncle and Sokka seemed to try to surreptitiously send to each other.

"What do you remember?" It was asked gently as if Iroh thought that just asking it would break Zuko.

While Zuko tried to come up with yesterday's events, he took in his surroundings; the fluorescent lights, the beeping machines connected to wires connected to him, the scratchy blankets laid atop him. Apparently he was lying in a fucking hospital bed!

Zuko closed his eyes and desperately tried to wrack his brains again.
His sister coming out of the courthouse. She looked furious. Hurt. Vengeful.
She stepped deliberately towards him, down the stairs of the courthouse. Her eyes never leaving his. He saw the same anger that he used to hold reflected back at him through her entire being.
She reached into her purse.
A flash of metal.
Her eyes shifted focus.
A bang.

This isn't right. Azula may have pulled the gun on Zuko but she had shifted her focus. She had aimed at Sokka. There was no way that Zuko got in front in time. She shot Sokka. She tried to kill Sokka. She tried to hurt Zuko through hurting Sokka. He remembers Sokka's screams, his tears, his arms covered in red. In blood. Zuko leaving a smear of it on Sokka's cheek when he went to comfort the man. But no. Then he remembered sinking to the ground. His head cradled on Sokka's jacket. The burning which turned cold and then numb inside him. His inability to breathe. Sokka's hands pressed to his chest. Sure the screams had been from Sokka but they had been for Zuko's life, not his own. Zuko had spoiled Azula's fun and got shot himself instead.

"She shot me! She fucking shot me!" His eyes flew wide and he whipped his head round to stare at Sokka. "She tried to shoot you." It came out in a whisper. Hurt dripping from every word. Zuko may have spoiled Azula's fun but she'd still got her original wish.

It seemed neither Uncle nor Sokka had been expecting that revelation. Sokka's face morphed from one of hurt and concern to one of shock and confusion. Uncle had a similar reaction, though there was an undercurrent of anger and, maybe, guilt? All Zuko knew was that Azula had always been fiercely protective, and perhaps that had been twisted against him.

And then, in a scene not too dissimilar to one nine months ago over a kitchen table in the aftermath of a storm, the three men were crying, wrapped around one another.

Soon, too soon, Sokka had to leave. The look on his face as he'd practically had to be dragged away nearly had Zuko trying to follow after him. They hadn't even had the chance to talk; Suki coming in to pick him up for work while they were all still huddled together. Then it was just Zuko and Uncle.

"How long was I out? What happened to Azula? I--I don't… She didn't--she isn't… I--I don't blame her… This is all his fault!"

Uncle had moved over to sit at Zuko's right side after Sokka had finally been pulled away. He took Zuko's hand in his, an apology in his eyes. Sorrow.

"You were put into a medical coma for three days. Your lung had collapsed. We are lucky that she did not hit your heart--" Iroh broke himself off from saying any more, seeming to be unable to cope with where that train of thought would lead. He shook himself out of that mindset and continued, though it seemed reluctant. "She broke down when the police took her into custody."

It was clear that Uncle wasn't going to talk any more on the matter. And besides, visiting hours were almost over, and Zuko was tired.

The next afternoon

As soon as visiting hours had opened up again, Sokka was back at Zuko's side, holding his hand and stroking his hair. He looked solemn, though was trying to cover it up with an attempt at his usual joviality.

"Now I know why you never wear your hair down. You'd be sitting on it all the time!"

"Were you the one who braided it, then? I'd been wondering. Thank you. The bun probably would've got uncomfortable quickly."

Even braided, and with his arm flat on the bed, Zuko was able to toy with the ends of his hair that was tucked over his left shoulder and lying against the length of his side. He'd begun growing it when he'd been kicked out. It started off as a rebellion against his father. Long hair was effeminate on men after all, and if he was already disowned for being gay, he might as well be the most disappointing son he could be, right? He could probably count the number of times he'd had it trimmed in those nine years on two hands.

Turning his attention back to Sokka, Zuko noticed that he seemed to be struggling to keep Zuko's eye contact, and was fiddling with their joined fingers. He seemed hesitant, reluctant? Usually their banter was easy, natural, in no small part to how smoothly Sokka would keep it going even when Zuko didn't know what to say. Now though… While silence was never awkward between them, both comfortable enough with each to enjoy simply spending time together, this silence felt heavy.

"Are you ok?--"

"I never told you about Yue--"

They had both started speaking at the same time, interrupting themselves as they registered what the other was saying. Sokka seemed reticent to continue.

"Is Yue what's been on your mind?" Zuko said it as gently as possible (which, to be fair, he was still weak so everything he said was gentle at this point). He could see that Sokka was distracted, and that whatever was eating at him was something serious. Sombre.

"You remember me telling you, fuck, what feels like a lifetime ago, that I had a flare up in my panic attacks when I was 15?" It wasn't really a question, whether because Sokka somehow knew that Zuko remembered every little thing that he'd been told by Sokka, or whether because of something Zuko couldn't identify, it didn't matter, Sokka plowed on ahead.

Yue had been his high school girlfriend. She was sweet, kind, gentle. But she'd been sick. They just didn't know it. Didn't know the symptoms. Had missed the signs.

One day they'd been out on a walk just outside the village. It was cold, as always. There was black ice, which they knew to look out for. But they were young, in love, and messing around. She slipped. He caught her. They headbutted each other on the way down, as she landed on top of him.

Sokka had been laughing with Yue as they fell.

Yue had ruptured a brain aneurysm.

Sokka had held her in his arms as she slipped into unconsciousness, as her breathing slowed to a stop, as she passed.

There was nothing he could have done.

He still blames--blamed himself.

It had brought back everything from his mother's death - the burden of responsibility, the guilt, the 'could have done more', the 'wasn't quick enough', 'wasn't good enough', 'wasn't enough'. The 'I'm going to lose everyone I ever care about'.

Sokka had been laughing with Zuko in celebration of his win.

Zuko had been shot in the chest.

Sokka had held him in his arms as his lung collapsed, as his heart nearly stopped, as he nearly bled out.

There was nothing he could have done.

He still blames himself.

A few days later

"Are you filming me? I'm getting a sense of déjà vu here."

Zuko raised his lone eyebrow at Sokka walking in backwards with a camera held selfie style, his other hand tucked into his worn and faded blue hoodie pocket. This week had been hard on them. Both Zuko and Sokka's anxiety and panic attacks had returned tenfold. And they definitely looked worse for wear.

"You look like shit." Zuko laughed out with utmost fondness, hiding deep concern.

"Thanks. You too! Now say hi to the camera! You gonna show them your badass scar? Looks like a star burst!"

Filming an update for his YouTube channel was a welcome distraction for both Sokka and Zuko. An extended stay in the hospital wasn't exactly how Zuko had envisioned celebrating finally getting justice against Ozai.

As often as they tried to visit, the hours that the GAang and Uncle were allowed to see Zuko were limited. And despite the exhaustion that clawed at him while he recovered, there was only so much sleeping a man could do. Especially when his sleep was plagued by nightmares. More than even he was used to. And their content was new.

His sister coming out of the courthouse. She looked furious. Hurt. Vengeful.
She stepped deliberately towards him, down the stairs of the courthouse. Her eyes never leaving his. He saw the same anger he used to hold reflected back at him through her entire being.
She reached into her purse.
A flash of metal.
Her eyes shifted focus.
A bang.
Sokka sinking to the floor. His clothes slowly staining red. A weak smile on his face, reassurances spilling from his lips. His eyes close.
They don't open again.

Sometimes Sokka wasn't shot, sometimes he drowned, or was caught in a house fire, or was in a car crash. Always he died. Always Zuko wasn't fast enough, or strong enough, or enough. Enough to save Sokka, dying broken and bloody in Zuko's arms.

Each visit that Sokka came back for he looked more and more tired, haggard, weak. He smiled less, and even when he did, they were forced or were small and sad. Zuko couldn't burden Sokka with these nightmares, he looked like he had enough to deal with, though he refused to say anything when Zuko asked. Anything they talked about these days was trivial. Superficial. Sokka avoided a multitude of topics, eye contact, Zuko. Maybe Zuko's fucked up family had finally scared Sokka off and he was just too kind to break it off while Zuko was in hospital.

A week of seeing Sokka deteriorate was enough. If they were breaking up then why prolong it when it was so obviously taking such a heavy toll on Sokka. No, better to just get it over with.

"I know what's going on, Sokka. And it's ok. I don't blame you. But you don't have to burden yourself with it alone. I'll be ok, I can take it." Somehow, Zuko had managed to keep any wobble out of his voice, but had been unable to look Sokka in the eye, instead choosing to look at their joined hands. Joined probably for the last time.

"You know? Did Suki tell you?"

"No, she didn't. But it's obvious. I know you Sokka, I know you're trying to protect me. But you don't have to. You don't have to."

It was a shame really. As soon as Zuko realises his love, was nearly ready to vocalise that love, it's taken away.

A tear runs down Sokka's cheek as he squeezes his eyes shut and bows his head. Without being able to be seen staring, Zuko decides to memorise what he can see of Sokka's face. The freckles across his cheekbones, the stubble along his jaw, the silver and steel in his ears. Trailing his eyes down to the polyam pride necklace highlighting his collar bones, the black tattoos circling his bicep, the bi pride bracelet on his wrist. His strong calloused hands cradling Zuko's own.

Sokka started to sob. "I'm sorry. You're the one that got shot, and here I am falling apart. I should have seen her pulling the gun, I should have got you out of the way. I'm supposed to keep you safe!" That. Was not what Zuko had been expecting to hear. "You're lying in a fucking hospital bed when you should be celebrating! I was going to take you out on a big date, it could even have been to the zoo like you asked. I was going to make everything so special and romantic. I bought you an ace ring. I was finally ready to tell you I love you. Fuck, I've been wanting to tell you since you came to visit my home, since I saw you hold my mom's guitar. Since I heard you play and sing like you're made of sunshine." Wait. What?! "But instead you're here. And I'm back at the flat falling apart having panic attacks and nightmares of you dying over and over. I can barely concentrate on my lab work, my anxiety is running so high! But you're the one who got shot! I shouldn't be feeling like this! I--"

Zuko needed to interrupt this before Sokka drove himself into a panic attack, he was nearly hyperventilating already, and his voice had steadily been rising in pitch and volume.

"--Sokka! Whoa, shh, it's ok, just breathe. That. That wasn't--I… Sokka, I love you too. Have done since months before we were even together, and I've been wanting to tell you since I came to visit you too. I just thought it would be too soon. But everything else you said, the anxiety, the panic attacks, the nightmares. Why didn't you feel you could tell me?"

Sokka was staring at Zuko, frozen, a look of complete adoration in his eyes, tears threatening to spill once more, and the first genuinely happy smile that Zuko had seen on his face since before the trial.

"I didn't mean to say that just now." Sokka's smile had turned equal parts nervous and giddy as a small giggle escaped his lips. "It was supposed to be all romantic and shit. But, you love me too?" His mahogany eyes shone with uncertain hope.

"Don't dodge the question! And I may have been calling you 'my love' for a while now anyway… I'm surprised you never looked up what boku no ai or aishiteru mean… You really got me an ace ring?" Zuko couldn’t help the slow sappy smile that started to spread across his face.

Chapter Text

October

It was a cold and windy morning a month after the trial, and Zuko was finally back at the flat, curled up on the large couch watching a movie on his laptop while Sokka was out at a counselling session. He'd decided to go back to therapy, alongside upping his medication temporarily, to help deal with his increased anxiety issues since the shooting. Zuko had done the same.

"Hi Sunshine!" Sokka came up to the back of the couch as soon as he'd kicked off his shoes once he was in the door, and leaned over to kiss the back of Zuko's head, noticing the tears that were silently running down his boyfriend's cheeks. "Are you crying? Shit, Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"This is all your fault." Zuko petulantly replied with a sniff, scrubbing at his face with the end of his hoodie sleeve.

"What did I do? How can I fix it?" Came Sokka's worried reply as he vaulted over the back of the couch to sit next to Zuko, searching his face as if looking for evidence of injuries or pain.

"Fuck off." Zuko said as he curled further into himself, hiding his face in his arms that were now crossed over his knees which were pulled up to his chest.

"Ok, you're scaring me now. What have I done wrong? If I don't know I can't fix it." Zuko could hear the uncertainty and panic rising in Sokka's voice.

"You said this was a happy movie! I'm like ten minutes in and greeting like a child!" Came Zuko's exclamation as he unfurled and threw a gesture at the laptop screen.

Sokka visibly relaxed, sinking into the sofa, as he saw the paused scene from Up on the screen. "Oh, Baby, I'm sorry, I guess I should have warned you about the start. But the rest is really 'uplifting'!" He finished with finger guns and the widest, most expectant, grin that Zuko had seen on his face to date.

"Did you really just make a pun while your boyfriend is bawling in front of you and it's your fault?" Zuko crossed his arms and looked thoroughly unimpressed. "I take back every time I've ever told you 'I love you'."

Sokka ignored this and gently pulled Zuko into a cuddle, pressing play, and a kiss to his hair. Zuko kept his arms crossed and resolutely did not let a grin break across his face.

"I just don't understand! I'm not going to stop you, Sunshine, I just--I worry, ok! She literally planned to kill you."

This felt like the hundredth time that Zuko and Sokka had been over the same conversation. Zuko wanted to visit his sister, he still blamed his father's manipulation for driving her to feeling cornered enough to do what she did. Sokka didn't want Zuko to go, he still didn't trust that she wouldn't try something again.

They were sat in Sokka's car outside the facility that currently housed Azula. Despite Zuko not blaming her, he also didn't fully trust her yet, and was nervous to go in. But he didn't want Sokka to know on the slim chance that he actually would stop Zuko going, thinking his mistrust was well placed.

"It should only be a short meeting, half an hour at most. Are you waiting here or do you want me to text you when I'm done?" Zuko deflected Sokka's unspoken questions in a voice that was so calm he felt detached from it.

"I'll always be here for you, Love." Despite the sincere emotion in Sokka's statement, Zuko could hear the disappointment, and couldn't bear to look Sokka in the eye, focusing instead on fiddling with the new black band around his right middle finger.

"I know, boku no ai." Guilt rose in Zuko's throat along with his nervousness, both of which he stubbornly pushed down.

With that, Zuko gave Sokka's hand a quick squeeze and left.

Zuko silently got back in the car, closed the door, and turned to the window. He propped his elbow on the armrest in the door and pushed his mouth into the heel of his hand. His breathing was tense, his whole body tight with the effort to not cry. Sokka seemed to get the message that this wasn't a vulnerability that Zuko was ready to have seen, so he turned the car on and took them home, in silence.

Half way back to the flat Zuko seemed to have managed to get himself under control and spoke up, mouth still pressed into the heel of his hand, just barely managing to keep his voice steady. His sister hadn't taken his visit well. After getting over her initial shock that he'd actually survived and that it wasn't just the doctors lying to her to try and keep her reasonable, she just started letting out all her pent up anger at him. Why hadn't he taken her with him? If anyone knew what Ozai was like it was Zuko. How could he have been so selfish as to have escaped on his own. To have kept all of Uncle's love to himself. Not even their mum had loved Azula as much as she'd loved Zuko.

Azula had thrown everything that Zuko blamed himself for back at him. He'd contributed to his own shooting and he knew it.

After that the doctors had cut their meeting short and recommended that Zuko wait until Azula was recovered enough to want to contact him of her own volition.

A fortnight later

Zuko was starting to feel recovered enough to be out of the house for longer, but if the air was particularly cold outside, he found the sudden change could trigger a coughing fit which would inevitably prompt Sokka (and oftentimes the rest of the GAang) into fussing over him far more than necessary. Currently Sokka was wrapping Zuko in a scarf large enough that it may as well have been a blanket, tucking his face into it so that the cold air couldn't get to him. Let alone any other air. As soon as Sokka's back was turned, Zuko shoved the scarf back down, tucking it into his coat breast.

"Sokka, I'm fine, it's just a little cold air. Now let's go before it gets too busy! I wanna see the turtles." He finished with a shameless pout as Sokka turned back around to face him, hoping to spur him into action. They were finally going on their zoo date.

"That's no fair! You know I can't resist that beautiful face of yours. Ok, let's get going… going to the zoo with my Zu!" Sokka looked so ridiculously proud of himself for that pun that Zuko had to fight to hold back a grin.

"You're supposed to be treating me, not torturing me. Don't forget your knee support." In the end, the grin won out and coloured his attempted admonishment with fondness. He buried his hands into his coat pocket and his face back into his scarf to try to look at least a little put out.

"It's already in the car. I'll put it on when I get there; don't need your left leg driving an automatic."

The October holidays had finished, so thankfully Edinburgh Zoo wasn't heaving with kids. Zuko was relishing in being able to walk around outside again, he'd been starting to feel restless being cooped up during his recuperation. And the added bonus of being able to walk around holding Sokka's hand was definitely not overlooked.

Of course, Sokka being Sokka, he had planned a meticulous route through the zoo (factoring in plenty of rest stops for Zuko getting out of breath going up the hill, or Sokka's leg giving him trouble), in order to see the maximum number of exhibitions and animals with minimum time wasted. And of course, the stop in the reptile house was twice the length of the stops to see any of the other animals.

"There don't seem to be any turtles, Love. This says these are pancake tortoises, I thought you wanted to see turtles?" Sokka had dropped Zuko's hand to wander around the reptile house checking all of the tags before going back to the one he was pointing at now.

"I like all turtles, I'm not gonna discriminate. Tortoises are turtles; what we call tortoises are actually terrestrial turtles--aaand you don't care about all this. Sorry…" Zuko had belatedly realised that he'd begun just rambling on as he'd always had a tendency to do when talking about the things he was interested in. He knew that Sokka wasn't going to listen to something that he didn't have an interest in himself. He'd had to be told off for the trait multiple times growing up; he'd never been a fast learner. It had been quite some time since he'd let himself slip back into his old habit, though.

"No need to apologise, Sunshine. I care about the stuff you like. I could listen to you talk about the stuff you enjoy all day! Just because I'm not personally interested in turtles the same way you are doesn't mean I'm not interested in hearing you share what you're passionate about." Zuko was struggling to hold Sokka's gaze as he walked back over to take Zuko's hands. Not only because of the sap that was dripping from his mouth, but also the soft gaze with hooded eyes and a smile that probably only himself and Suki had ever seen.

"You know I don't think I've ever asked you what your favourite animal is?" Even if he still struggled to return the level of intimacy, which Sokka so freely expressed, explicitly, he could still extend a gesture of working towards it.

"Ooh, hard question! I feel like since I'm Canadian I'm kinda expected to say moose, and while they are majestic, they're also terrifying. Oh, but did you know that one of the few predators of the moose is the orca! I do really like penguins, of which, I'd have to say the Little Blue is my favourite, unsurprisingly the smallest penguin and the only nocturnal one! But if I'm allowed to pick an animal that's extinct then my favourite has to be a sabertooth tiger!"

"That was a lot of information to get in 30 seconds." Came Zuko's dazed reply.

Sokka had finished his excited speil with one of his signature wide grins, a little toe bounce, and a squeeze of his fingers wrapped around Zuko's own. Zuko had finished it feeling slightly dizzy. Zuko, like Sokka had just insisted, could happily listen to his boyfriend ramble on about random stuff for hours (and he often had done), but when he was receiving information that he was genuinely interested in retaining (in other words information about said boyfriend), being bombarded like that was… less than helpful. So, much like he'd done when he'd learned of the anniversary of Kya's death, Zuko resolved to try to surreptitiously make a note in his phone of the salient points the next time Sokka was distracted (which undoubtedly wouldn't be a long wait).

"Well, I don't think they have any sabertooth tigers here, but do we have space in your schedule to stop by the penguins for a little extra time?" Zuko teased; Sokka's schedules were precious to him and he hated having to make changes, maybe an added pout would tip the scales in his favour.

"This is your celebratory date, Sunshine, not mine. We're doing what you want."

"And I want to see my boyfriend light up looking at his second favourite animal." A pout would be unnecessary, Sokka was relenting just with the grin Zuko was struggling to rein in, if the way he was drawn into Zuko's hold as if by gravity were any evidence.

Zuko always felt a little guilty having to be driven everywhere by Sokka. He had a provisional licence but had never been able to pass his driving test. It didn't help that so many instructors had insisted he turn over his left shoulder to look out the rear windscreen when reversing despite him repeatedly explaining that he was blind and wouldn't be able to see unless he dislocated his neck. On the way home from the zoo he felt especially guilty. All the walking had clearly taken a toll on Sokka's leg. Zuko could see it in the line of tension across Sokka's shoulders and down his back. It's not like Sokka hid the fact that he had chronic knee pain, but he did try to minimise showing just how bad the pain got. Despite wearing his knee support all day, it was still nearly a full day's walking, which he usually avoided at all costs, and for good reason.

All that added up to Zuko insisting that Sokka lie down as soon as they were back in the flat, while Zuko went and microwaved one of Sokka's herbal heat packs, set the kettle to boil to make some hot tea with turmeric, and brought over some of Sokka's emergency painkillers. He also fussed with pillows and blankets until he was sure that Sokka's leg was fully supported in as comfortable a position as Sokka could get it into. With all of that sorted, Zuko slipped in behind Sokka on the large couch and put on one of his favourite conspiracy theories shows. As Sokka settled back against him, hands wrapped tightly around his mug of tea, letting the tension drain out as Zuko wrapped his arms around Sokka's waist, any tears or sniffling that he let loose were gently shushed as Zuko pressed soft kisses into his hair.

That night, as Zuko supported Sokka up the stairs and into bed, he couldn't help but feel lucky to be let in like this. He knew that Sokka liked to be the strong big brother to Katara, Aang, and Toph, and the supporting boyfriend to Suki. Of course they all knew about his knee, but he would always insist that he was coping, that he had everything under control. He let them see him using the knee support, or heat packs, or resting it. But he didn't let them do much more than fetch him the occasional item when it was really bad, or let Suki give a massage (and even that was usually under the guise of being disgustingly cute together). Perhaps something about Zuko being older, or knowing a little of what chronic pain is like, allowed Sokka to not feel like he had to hide quite how much he sometimes needed to rely on others. Zuko has no doubt that Suki has seen Sokka crying in pain, cramped up and unable to get out of bed, he's not naïve enough to think that he's the only one that Sokka will show his vulnerability to. But he also recognises that to even be allowed to see as much as Suki does is to be allowed deep into Sokka's world. And he cherishes it for the privilege that it is.

Lying in bed pressed up against Sokka's back and his arms gently draped over his waist, Zuko promises to himself to be the support for Sokka on his bad days much like the support that Sokka is for Zuko on bad days of his own.

The next evening

"Hi, Zuko here--"

"--I still can't believe that's your actual intro--"

"--You're the one that stole it for the hospital update!--"

"--Continuity, Sweetheart!--"

"--Look, let's just start again, shall we?... Hi, Zuko here, and I'm here with my boyfriend, Sokka…"

Zuko and Sokka were sat cross legged beside each other on Zuko's bed facing the camera in its usual spot for filming on a tripod between the desk and the door. Their bickering momentarily overruled by genuine excitement at finally being able to film a duet. They'd had to abandon the idea of doing a Sunrise Serenade together on account of Sokka being unable to be risen and functional any time before 9am, so have settled for doing a plain and simple duet. Zuko still hides the majority of his face from the camera, something Sokka lamented since he'd finally been comfortable enough to stop covering up with his heavy fringe in recent months. But sat together like this, with Sokka on his right, Zuko can't help but notice the lack of complaints and Sokka's eyes hardly leaving his face while they sing together and Zuko plays Kya's guitar, a grin on both their faces. And if it took a multitude of takes to get through a single song without breaking into fits of giggles, teasing each other, or Sokka distracting Zuko with kisses to his forehead, hair, and elsewhere, well that was between the two of them.

Chapter Text

Five years later

No one ever said life was easy, nor uni or relationships. Zuko was now in his second year of a Masters and Sokka in his fourth of a PhD. And they'd just had the bombshell dropped that Ozai had died in prison, leaving a steaming pile of shit for Zuko to deal with. Azula's last correspondence was concerning. She had finally reached out to Zuko just four months prior to Ozai's passing, suggesting a short meeting. Zuko had wanted to be the one to deliver the news, but someone had beaten him to it, and Azula retracted her offer, accused Zuko of killing her father, and informed him in no uncertain terms that she wouldn't allow herself to be next. Ozai had thought himself invincible, so much so that he'd never made a will. This left ownership of Oshiro Oil to Zuko along with a very healthy inheritance, even after being divided between himself and Azula and Iroh. Zuko… was not best pleased with this new acquisition. He'd tried so hard to separate himself not just from his father but also from the morally, ethically, and everything else corrupt company that his great grandfather had founded. He hated the idea of being tied to Oshiro Oil in any kind of manner. But he hated more the idea of selling it on only for it to continue its practices or worse. He fully intended to change the entire company, ethics and all. Oshiro Energy, based in renewables, one last "fuck you" to Ozai, but that was going to take a long time, and he still had to graduate.

Studying was hard, it took up a lot of Zuko and Sokka's time, and with their study/work/sleep schedules being so different, there wasn't a lot of time for them to be together. All this plus the Ozai and Azula situation left the two of them struggling and stressed. They had both agreed not to allow their relationship to get in the way of their studies, but they equally had promised not to let their studies drive them apart. So they had come to an agreement. No matter how busy they were, they would drop everything, just for an hour, once a week. Phones would be turned off, laptops, journals, books, and papers would be put away. And there would be no talk of study.

Zuko had come to notice during these 'date' nights that as Sokka got closer to his Viva he was getting more closed off, quiet but somehow twitchy. He would be in his own head so much, he was barely making eye contact, and would zone out of their conversation. Zuko was starting to feel conflicted. He was so proud of Sokka for having worked so hard, but he worried that Sokka was headed for a big burn out. They each knew that the other was pushing themselves harder than what was probably strictly healthy, but they supported each other through the bumps and bruises. Right now, Zuko wanted to find a way to show Sokka just how proud he was. Just how amazed he was to be with such a bright-in-every-sense-of-the-word man. He knew that Sokka often didn't give himself enough credit, and was hard on himself. So Zuko had a plan. He knew that Sokka was usually the plan guy, but lately Sokka hadn't been feeling like his plans were working much. Zuko had usually been the fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants guy, but this was too important. He needed to enlist the help of the GAang.

Sometime later

It was Zuko and Sokka's five year anniversary. Zuko never thought, with the way things had started out between the two of them, that they would last this long, and every day he's thankful. Zuko had a whole weekend planned out, he wanted to surprise his boyfriend, let him take his mind off of his stresses for a while. Sokka was dubious. And suspicious.

It started with Zuko having gone back to driving lessons some months ago and finally passing both his theory and practical (by pretending to be able to see out of his left eye when reversing). Sokka was so proud, and the guilt of hiding why Zuko was doing this was so easily drowned out by the look in Sokka's eyes when he got the news. Zuko never wanted that shine to be turned off him, he felt all at once caught in that gaze and empowered by its confidence.

Then he began borrowing the car to take multiple trips at bizarre times of day out to mysterious locations of which he refused to tell Sokka about. He knew that this was when Sokka's suspicions started, but they were so easily assuaged by claims of Zuko revelling in his new found freedom.

It was when he started hiding mysterious packages in the flat (mostly in Toph's room because there was no way they'd relent to Sokka's wheedling to see what Zuko was hiding) and Sokka seemed to get genuinely upset rather than his puppy-dog 'if you love me you'll tell me' eyes that Zuko started to doubt his plans. Perhaps he was going over the top; doing too much or doing it wrong.

On the actual day, Zuko loaded their car boot with the mysterious packages, and Sokka's knee support and new walking stick (it had taken a while for Sokka to admit that he needed it sometimes, and then another long while before he felt comfortable using it out in public), and then promptly banned Sokka from peeking in the boot let alone at the packages. He then checked what kind of pain day Sokka was having so that he could figure out which of the options he had come up with was going to be used. And then they were having brunch at The Jasmine Dragon and 'bumping' into Toph in one of their usual deep philosophical discussions with Iroh. Uncle very graciously brought Sokka and Zuko their drinks and food personally, and afterwards challenged Sokka to a game of Go which had become their habit in the past couple of years. While the two were otherwise distracted, Toph engaged Zuko in a discussion on the merits of being blind when trying to scam someone with sleight of hand. Though not without being distracted himself with watching Sokka's face as he concentrated on his moves; the slight furrow in his brow, the hint of pink as he caught his tongue and lower lip between his teeth. Now, Zuko was aware that he may have been being overly cautious when finalising his plans with the GAang. He didn't want Sokka overhearing his conversation with Toph signalling that she was to pass on the message that the car was ready to be emptied. So they'd come up with the aforementioned, admittedly silly, coded message.

When that inevitably ended with Iroh being forced to actually work his tea shop, the two walked across the leisure complex to the ice-skating rink. Zuko only just had time to materialise Sokka's knee support out of seemingly nowhere, before Sokka all but dragged him onto the ice. Zuko had never been ice-skating before, he was like a new-born fawn, Sokka had to support him round the rink, skating backwards and holding onto both his hands. The flash of faded black metal on Zuko's right middle finger the only distraction from otherwise staring at Sokka's face the whole time. Zuko only fell flat on his ass once, mostly thanks to the rest of the time he fell forward onto Sokka making him fall flat on his ass instead. At least on the ice Zuko could blame staring at Sokka on the need to use him as support around the rink. He could blame the resulting dusting of pink on his face on the cold of the air. And he could blame the hammering of his heart behind his ribcage on the threat of the next fall.

After dodging into a secluded hallway to make a phone call away from any eavesdroppers (Sokka), to check that the car was emptied and returned to its parking spot, Zuko proceeded to drive them an hour out of town. He'd had a backup in place - getting milkshakes to buy time if necessary - but (as everyone had repeatedly tried to reassure him) everything was going to plan. Sokka had endless questions; about the packages, the phone call, and, of course, where they were going. Zuko tried to say nothing, with an attempt at a mysterious face (whatever the fuck that looks like), but eventually he started to feel his resolve break. A grin grew on his face, cheeks darkening, heart rate picking up. In an effort to deflect, Zuko tried to offer a hint to at least part of his plans.

"Bright, twinkling stars
dancing high above our heads
- the sky's fireflies"

Eventually Zuko pulled off the road at a woodland trail, and offered Sokka his knee support once more as well as the option of his walking stick (from a car boot that Sokka specifically noted was mysteriously empty), and taking his hand to pull him into the woods, his free hand fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket. Throughout the short walk, Sokka continued to ask questions about what was going on, Zuko distracted him with either another haiku or a kiss to the back of his hand and a wink.

"逢ふことも
過失のひとつ
薄暑光"
/
"Aukotomo
Kashitsu no hitotsu
Hakusho-kou."
/
"An encounter is
One of the misstep.
The sunshine at the beginning of the summer."

The walk was interspersed with shoulders or hips knocking into each other, along with the odd gentle headbutt and following rub of cheeks or noses, or the occasional ghost of lips in hair, on temples, on anywhere accessible. Eventually they emerged in a clearing at the top of a long gentle slope, fields and trees surrounded them, and off against the horizon lay the faint lights of Dundee. In front of them was set up a tent, blanket, unlit candles, and a wicker basket.

Sokka had frozen at the edge of the clearing as soon as the tent was visible. His mouth was half hung open in an aborted grin that was somewhere between surprise and elation. Zuko hadn't realised until his hand had been jerked back as he'd tried to continue walking, he'd been so in his head as they'd reached the clearing, his heart was in his throat beating a staccato rhythm that would outpace a galloping racehorse. Once again, he was doubtful of his plans; he'd gone over the top, he'd done too much, he'd done it wrong.

"I know that the stars here will be nothing compared to what you would get back home. Not nearly majestic enough. Not nearly worthy enough of you. But I thought we could watch the sun set, have a candlelit picnic, and then fall asleep under a blanket of stars." The wobble in Zuko's voice betrayed his nervousness, his attempted smile was weak and apologetic, his eyes were downcast and focused on their joined hands spanning the distance between them.

There was, of course, more to his plan than this, but now was not the time. He dropped Sokka's hand and left him, still frozen, at the edge of the clearing, in order to light the candles; little tea lights in jam jars with holes in the lids, some of which had wire handles wrapped around them and were hanging from the trees closest to the tent. One of the GAang had also seemingly taken it upon themselves to lay down cushions and a ring of dried flowers around the edge of the blanket, weaving between candles. The doubt was growing in Zuko's chest the longer that Sokka stayed frozen, not moving any closer. Perhaps opening the wicker picnic basket could entice him to at least consider joining Zuko on the blanket, even if his unwillingness indicated that Zuko needed to abort the rest of his plan. He could always drive them home tonight rather than in the morning.

It seemed the sight of food was all that Sokka needed to get on board with the rest of the evening, though he still moved slowly towards the picnic, as if moving too fast would break some illusion or force him to wake from a dream.

Zuko took up Sokka's hand once more. He wanted to not only celebrate, but also thank Sokka this anniversary. Five years together. Five years since Zuko had stumbled, broken but healing, into the GAang's lives, into Sokka's life. Five years since Sokka had shown Zuko what it was like to let himself love and be loved. Five years of supporting each other as they worked their way through their studies. As they teased each other for their incomprehensible choices in subject matter. As they supported each other in pursuing their hobbies and interests. As they teased each other for their bizarre hobby choices. As they loved each other even through their bad mental health or pain days.

Sokka had always been comfortable in showing his emotions. Zuko less so. But here, now, they were both tearing up a little at the thought of just how much they had to celebrate for tonight. Curled into one another on the cushions picking at the lasts of the picnic as the dying embers of the sun fell away before them. Zuko untangled himself, still holding Sokka's hand, and shifted so that he was kneeling in front of Sokka, heart once more hammering in his chest, he just hoped his hands weren't actually as sweaty as they felt. One knee and one foot on the ground steadying himself, looking deep into Sokka's widening eyes. Despite Sokka's tears, he had been smiling. That smile now froze (he had been doing a lot of that tonight), as Zuko was poised in front of him, reaching into his pocket for the last mystery item of the night. A small box, no bigger than the palm of his hand.

Immediately, Sokka's free hand flew to cover his mouth and his eyes grew impossibly wider. The tears that had momentarily stopped were threatening to overflow once more.

"I know we've talked about this only as a hypothetical. But, Sokka, boku no ai, I don't want it to be just a hypothetical anymore. I love you, and it's no exaggeration to say that these last five years have been the best of my life. I know we don't know what the future is going to hold, but fuck me if I don't want to figure it out together with you."

"I can't just uproot you though, you know I want to move back home. You have a life here, family, work, plans!" Sokka had started speaking with his hand still covering his mouth, but he quickly moved it into wide gesticulations as if to symbolise the magnitude of what Zuko was suggesting. As if he didn't already know.

"My life is with you, you're my family, and I can work from anywhere; Ozai got his sticky claws into nearly the whole world, it's an international company. My only plans are to fuck my dad's shit up, and keep making videos. I can do that from anywhere. And what better way to fuck my dad's shit up than to turn his oil company into a renewable energy provider that helps build up the communities that he so diligently destroyed? Also, I know my degree's in English poetry, and I have no real plans on how to use it, but I've been enjoying making these videos and letting that take me where it will. And I know songwriting is a totally different thing to poetry, but I'm liking the challenge of seeing how I can fuse the two."

"I can't ask that of you." Sokka gently shook his head, his voice was high and tight as if with the effort to hold back his tears, just as his hand was tight around Zuko's as if it were his anchor.

"I'm offering it to you." Zuko poured all the warmth he could manage into his reply, giving a gentle encouraging squeeze to Sokka's hand still held in his own, before dropping it to open the box. Nestled inside were two matching rings; half gold half silver in a single twist, with a line of small diamonds across the diagonal of the twist. "I'm willing to follow you to the edge of the universe, if you'll have me. Aishiteru." And if Zuko's voice was getting hoarse with emotion, and if his tears had broken their dam, and if his hands shook as they placed the ring on Sokka's finger, then that was only between them and the stars.

The following afternoon

Neither Zuko nor Sokka had managed to keep a smile off of their faces since the previous night. They'd decided to spend a lazy morning on the hilltop, it had been unusually sunny, and the men revelled in soaking up the heat as they played with the rings on each other's fingers. On the drive back, however, Sokka seemed to be settling into a foul mood. It was hard to tell with him sitting in Zuko's blind spot. Eventually though, he took in a deep breath as if to bolster himself for what he was about to say. Zuko's knuckles tightened around the steering wheel to brace himself.

"I can't believe you robbed me of the chance to surprise everyone! I was supposed to be able to just casually mention how much my arm is hurting from lugging this big rock around! It's one of the perks of being proposed to!"

"Fuck, Sokka! I thought you were seriously pissed off at me or wanting to break off the engagement or something! Also, those diamonds are far too tiny to be considered 'rocks'. You can still surprise them with the fact that you said yes?" Zuko's hands had immediately loosened their grip on the steering wheel and he'd only just managed to restrain himself from smacking his forehead on the horn in exasperation.

"Yeah, right! Like anyone was in doubt of that!" A charged silence passes between them. "Sweetheart, did you really think there was a chance that I'd say no?"

"It wasn't a 0% possibility." Zuko was glad that he had both the need to concentrate on the road as an excuse and his blind spot as a block from making eye contact with Sokka as he can practically feel the pity? the disappointment? rolling off of his boyfriend. No, his fiancé.

"Please tell me I at least get to show off the ring as a surprise?"

"Well, actually…" An offended and scandalised gasp erupts from Zuko's left. "I'm just kidding! Yes. You get to show off the ring as a surprise." Perhaps Zuko would have a smile permanently etched on his face from now on.

Chapter Text

Two years post engagement

They didn't want a huge affair, partly because they were going to have to celebrate twice, once for Zuko's family and all their friends in Scotland, and again for Sokka's family and to register their marriage in Nunavut.

The first celebration was a meal and a ceilidh. Zuko really wasn't a big gatherings kind of person, but insisted on the ceilidh since it was a travesty that neither Sokka nor Katara had been to one since moving to Scotland for their education nearly ten years ago. He was prepared to put up with the sweaty bodies pressed together, the loud music, and the smell of alcohol, if it meant he got to see Sokka light up at learning something new (and maybe also see him in a kilt). It also meant he had an excuse to watch Sokka the whole time that they weren't actively dancing together. It did, however, mean that someone had to be put on Toph duty since they were definitely the kind of person to try to cause bodily harm during any and all whirling.

Azula even agreed to come for a short while, along with, as support (and protection from having to interact with any previously mentioned sweaty dancers), her friends from childhood whom she had been back in touch with for about a year. They'd been Zuko's only friends at the time as well, but he'd never been sure if they thought of him as a friend, or as just their friend's brother. Either way, it had been nice to see them again, and a pleasant surprise to hear that they had been married to each other for a little over three years now. They were such polar opposites, but Zuko would be a hypocrite if he were to think that that would stop them from working in a relationship. He'd always felt a kinship with Mai, they both had that gloomy emo/goth thing going for them. And Zuko couldn't help but compare, as he watched them dancing the Strip the Willow together, Ty Lee and Sokka, who both were nothing if not enthusiastic in all that they did. Although Mai and Zuko seemed to move forward towards their spouses at the exact same moment as the dancing inexplicably evolved into starting to flirt with each other (or rather more Ty Lee flirting with Sokka, and him needing saved).

The actual wedding was a very private family affair. The little ceremony was held in the family home, and the meal was tight around the table, elbows knocking into one another.

Zuko couldn't be happier stood in that living room, furniture cleared to the edges, Sokka in front of him looking radiant in a navy suit, with a tie that matched his forget-me-not blue eyes, his own suit black with a tie that Sokka picked out to match his own golden eyes. And of course Sokka wept his way through his vows, and for once Zuko isn't ashamed to admit that that made him cry. And he's not ashamed to admit that he wept his way through his own vows. He's not ashamed to say that he loves the man before him. That he loves Sokka. Always has, always will.

"Nagligijagit."

"Aishiteru."

Rather than exchanging new rings, Zuko and Sokka had red yarn tied round their pinky, connecting them to the other man: the only Japanese element that Zuko had insisted on. It was based on folklore that his mum had told him when he was young of lovers fated from birth.

To avoid another backhanding incident, the ceremony was sealed with a kiss to the newly tied pinkies, untying the yarn, and a crushing hug where they each placed gentle kisses to the other's hair.

After dinner discussion eventually turned to logistics of newly married life: Zuko running an international company via conference calls, Sokka finding work, finding a home that could comfortably accommodate Suki while she set up a second Kyoshi Warriors studio, while she also looks for a home back in Dundee to live with Jin half the year after getting established. It would be difficult, but they would make it work.

A year later

"I would like it to be known and acknowledged that I have been shielding you from most of my puns--" Sokka sounded like he was getting ready to start some kind of speech to Suki and Zuko as the three of them lay in a tangled heap on their sofa.

"--Your generosity is noted.--" Zuko teased, deadpan.

"--but as a dad, it is my right, nay! My duty!--" Came the indignant interruption to an interruption.

"--I think we need to revoke Sokka's right to naming the baby, what do you think Suki?"

"Hey! This wasn't even about naming the baby! Just my right to bad dad jokes and puns. But now that we're on the topic… I know--I know we don't want to push gender norms and roles…" At the last sentence Sokka had quickly become subdued, hesitant, and the pause became long enough that it was evident that he was struggling to finish what he was saying.

Immediately when it became obvious, Suki cooed comfort at Sokka and rubbed circles into the nearest body part she could reach. Zuko pulled Sokka into his chest and planted a soft kiss to the buzzed side of his head.

"…Kya. If it's a girl, I'd like to call her Kya."

"Shit! The little one has quite the strong kick!"

Suki had been at the kitchen counter making a cup of tea when she suddenly doubled over and came out with the exclamation. Zuko was sat on a stool at the island because Suki was pregnant and not an invalid apparently (even though Zuko had always been the one to make the tea). Suki's unexpected shout had Zuko equal parts concerned and excited. The baby had started kicking nearly a month ago, but had so far always been when Zuko wasn't in the vicinity.

"The baby's kicking? C--can I--? Would you mind if I had a feel of them kicking?"

"Of course you can have a feel of your baby kicking, Zuko!" Suki sounded incredulous at Zuko even asking the question, as if her answer were the most obvious in the world.

"My? But I'm not the father."

Zuko had got up intending to help Suki onto one of the island stools but froze as he realised what she'd just implied. Her gaze softened immediately, and she took the hand that he still held extended towards her, and placed it on her belly.

"I would have hoped that by now you had learned that family isn't just about blood ties, Zu."

"Yeah, Sunshine. You're just as much the father as I am."

Apparently Sokka had walked into the kitchen at some point and was stood, oh so casually leaning against the door frame, eyes half-lidded, arms crossed in front of himself. He probably thought himself so cool as he pushed himself off and sauntered to the kitchen island. Zuko definitely ignored all this and did not stare at his husband the whole walk over.

"Speaking of fatherhood, what were you going to have the baby call you? What's the Inuktitut for dad?" Much easier to change the subject, and he finally withdrew his hand back to himself, rubbing at the phantom pulses he felt still tingling his palm.

"Ataata. What about you Sweetheart?"

"If you're really ok with me being a father… then it'd probably be Papa. What about you, Suki?" Again, Zuko hesitated to accept that what they were saying was true.

"I was kinda thinking Eomma. Jin's already told me that she wants to be Auntie Jin."

Zuko decided to busy himself with finishing making tea for the three of them while they finished the discussion.

"You going to teach them Korean, Sweetie?"

"Nah, probably not. After the first two years, I'm only gonna be here six months out of the year. I don't think anything would stick."

"There's always all the video calls we're gonna be having, Babe. Sunshine, you gonna teach them Japanese?"

Zuko startled back into the conversation from where he was concentrating on brewing three different types of tea correctly (Iroh's parting gift to him had been unofficial lessons in the art of tea making. Read as Zuko faux reluctantly sitting through endless lectures and tea tastings in the months leading up to his move to Igloolik).

"You'd allow that? I wouldn't want to confuse them by adding to the languages being spoken… Speaking of languages though… would you teach me Inuktitut?"

"Only if you teach me Japanese." Sokka's teasing grin was blinding as he leaned on crossed elbows over the corner of the island to crowd into Zuko's space.

Newborn

Zuko is exhausted. Kya finally settled and went down for a nap mere moments ago. The only issue? He now needs to use the bathroom, and the place his baby chose to finally drift off was sprawled face down on his chest as he lay across the sofa. He gives up, if he's lucky maybe he can catch a nap while Kya's sleeping and the need to use the bathroom won't interfere. Besides, the look of his child's face, one cheek squished up against his chest, hands in tiny little fists clutching his t-shirt, is too adorable to disturb. So he leans his head back against the arm of the sofa and closes his eyes.

"Zuko?..." Sokka calls out from, by the sounds of it, somewhere near the living room doorway, in a whisper-shout, probably on the off chance that Kya was asleep. Zuko doesn't want to answer, he'd so nearly been asleep himself. "Honey?! Could you pass my camera?"

"And why can't you get it yourself?" Luckily Suki sounds like she caught on to the need for quiet since her reply is in an actual whisper.

"Because it's right next to you and I don't wanna move in case I wake either of them up." There's a pause, and then the sound of an instant photo being taken and printed causes Zuko to startle a little, and he worries that his increased heart rate and slight bodily flinch would wake Kya.

"I'm already awake, I just didn't wanna disturb Kya." Zuko grouses, partly to try to cover that he nearly had been asleep and partly because he was annoyed at himself for still being so sensitive to sudden noises.

Opening his eyes, he sees both Sokka and Suki standing in the doorway, Sokka's arm around Suki's shoulders, hers around his waist, an instant camera in his free hand, a freshly printed photo in hers, a shared look of adoration on both their faces.

Ten years together

"You know you can't waltz to a four beat right, boku no ai?" Zuko said with mirth and laughter in his eyes, and a smile so wide it crinkled the corners of his eyes.

"Shh." Sokka's hand came off Zuko's shoulder to hold a finger to his husband's lips. "You can if you use your imagination."

The two men were slowly dancing in a tight circle around the coffee table in their living room, Kingumungaaq by Joshua Haulli coming out tinny through the cheap speakers of Sokka's laptop. He'd abandoned his work and scooped up Zuko from his place on the couch when the song started, pulling him into a faux waltz stance which quickly devolved into Zuko placing his arms around Sokka's neck while Sokka held Zuko's waist.

Zuko was finding himself lost in Sokka's eyes up until the point that Kya started to call out a demand for attention. He turned just as Suki put down her phone (which he could have sworn was pointed their way) in order to resume their game of playing farm with Jin.

Watching the three of them play on the carpet, a chaotic mess of toys around them, feeling held by Sokka, swaying the two of them to the music, Zuko found himself letting go. As the song changed to How'd You Know by Saali & the Ravenhearts, he turned in Sokka's grasp, crossing his husband's arms over his stomach and clasping them in turn. His husband pressed soft kisses to the back of his head, and Zuko quietly sang along as they continued to move in place, watching their family laugh and smile. And he felt at home. At peace. Loved. And in love.