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Chapter Text

Zuko should have known this task would not be an easy one. The avatar had returned and he felt hope ignite in his chest that this all will soon be over and he can finally go home. That their search will be done and they can leave this frozen forsaken landscape and put the bitter cold nights and extended darkness behind them. The cold weather hurt, in more ways than Zuko had ever anticipated. Being a firebender was a blessing and a curse, he discovered as his inner flame cowered against the arctic chill that snaked down his spine and smothered him in the cold silence of his personal quarters.

His hopes had grown stronger when the avatar had peacefully surrendered. Zuko was grateful that there didn’t need to be a fight. He had parted with his men to gather the information he needed from his private quarters. He needed his thoughts in order before he could broach such a serious topic with the apparent child. This was going to be a harder conversation than Zuko had expected, this boy was young and naïve but also so dangerous. He had to take care in how he approached this. He had so much to say and all of it was pertinent to their mission but he also required tact which he currently lacked when exhaustion and sleep deprivation had kept himself and the rest of the crew restlessly on their toes. The biting cold had not been kind and this whole ordeal had shaken them a bit.

There was always the option of letting Uncle Iroh handle the situation but Zuko was the one responsible for this crew and this mission. It was his duty, and it needed to be clear and concise. It needed to make sense for a child, without Uncle’s proverbs or dainty steps around the hard topic at the center. Quick and clean, Zuko reminded  himself. He needed a game plan first, then he would talk with the boy. Maybe he should request a pot of tea, Uncle always said it was good for clearing the head and the air between when tense conversations were to be had. Zuko felt it would be a nice distraction from the weighty words he was formulating in his mind.

 He had been rummaging through his cabinet of scrolls when he heard the ruckus out in the corridors of the ship, twisting to greet the noise with confusion apparent on his face when he spotted the orange blur of a tiny bald monk rushing into his private quarters without care or awareness.

This was bad. He needed to contain the avatar quickly. Slamming his door shut had been a small effort to keep the child from escaping but now he was trapped in a cramped tiny room and he could not afford to lose his cool here. His flames could easily get out of control and damage the painstaking research he had collected these last three years. Their fight was short lived as the airbender got the upper hand just by sheer luck and Zuko felt his head throbbing even worse since the boomerang had struck him. His vision swam as he scrambled back to his feet with a groan but the boy had already rushed out into the corridor. His men made a valiant effort to stall and stop him from slipping away but they couldn’t account for the slippery tactics of an air nomad.

Zuko managed to catch up to the avatar as he leapt from the bridge of his ship. The firebender didn’t even think through the risks in his choice as he chased after him with a courageous leap of his own, grappling the boy's legs to bring him down to the deck. The fall was somewhat controlled as the airbender panicked and saw them to relative safety.

The prince was quick to get to his feet as his soldiers stormed the deck to aid him. It seemed they had the upper hand and Zuko was going to speak up and explain when the sky bison swooped in with two water tribesmen upon its saddle. The fight that ensued was hard fought and his men were not prepared to face such an ordeal in these elements. Zuko narrowly avoided a freezing death plunge into the polar waters that churned around the ship, hoisting himself with terror clawing up his throat in a desperate climb to safety.

Everything moved quickly and yet not quick enough like he was trapped in quicksand without any hope of escape as he fought against it. His vision swam as attacks whipped by him faster than he could process them, and before he knew it his soldiers were frozen by the waterbender’s attack and then the ship was half buried in snow and ice. The sky bison was flying off with the water tribe pair and the bald monk securely in their saddle, and Zuko felt an unexplainable exhaustion sink into his limbs.

They needed to free the ship and keep moving. There wasn’t time for dallying. As he barked the orders, he turned to face his men, letting himself steady when his footing wobbled uneasily. His vision blurred for a brief few seconds as dizziness and nausea collected like tight knots inside his gut. He scowled and focused on a singular point of the deck until it passed then slowly let his golden gaze creep up to find his men already thawing the unfortunate frozen nonbenders in his crew. The nausea was replaced with guilt as he amended his orders.

“Once you’re finished with that.” He offered something that may have been considered apologetic if he didn’t have a large scar obstructing the mobility of most of his facial muscles. Stalking off, he hoped to assess the extent of the damage inside, his amber eyes searching the passing soldiers to find Lieutenant Jee among them.

“Status report.” He demanded. The older man looked tired already, but Zuko could easily assume it wasn’t just from the strain of commanding the ship. They were all worn ragged. He could understand that but some sacrifices had to be made in order to achieve their goal.

Jee explained their situation, pointed out the number of minor injuries during the avatar’s escape and was pleased to know the majority of the damage on their ship was the little bit on the exterior. Zuko offered a curt jerky nod that he immediately regretted then spun sharply on his heel, which he regretted further, before storming off to his private quarters.

He needed a moment to rest, collect his thoughts and plan their next step. 

Reiki and Sheng were sick. They were the primary pikemen on the Pygmy Puma and the two soldiers that had been escorting the avatar to his holdings. They were also one of the unfortunate souls that had been frozen by the waterbender. Thawed out and curled up in the ship’s infirmary under copious blankets, Zuko had stopped by to check on them as he heard the sharp wet coughs that rustled in their chests. Reiki looked distressed as Murei, their medic gave her something to help with the cough. Sheng had groaned and rolled over, shivering under the pile of blankets he had huddled under, eyeballing the two women with half of his attention and seemingly spacing out before another sharp cough would draw him to his senses through the pain.

They had been fine after they’d been thawed out, only showing minor signs of hypothermia but Murei was quick to fix that as she urged Chen to play living furnace and warm all three soldiers who had been in the ice. Chen didn’t mind then and apparently didn’t mind now either as he settled down in the infirmary heating water for Murei and offering assistance as she flitted from task to task to tend to the two sick crewmen.

As she was turning to collect clean towels, Murei stopped in her tracks as her eyes met Zuko’s with an apologetic concerned look.

“How are they doing?” Zuko asked, just as he has asked every day for the last three days. They had been fine a week ago.

She urged him away from the others, leaving Reiki and Sheng to Chen’s cautious care. Her hand lifted to cup Zuko’s shoulder but paused when she realized who it was she was addressing and let it fall with a serious expression replacing her usual cheer that the entire crew knew her for. There was something grim that flashed in her eyes.

“It looks like it might be pentapox.” She had lowered her voice but Zuko felt like she may have as well shouted it with how his ears started ringing. His heart climbed into his throat as he shot a look back at the two soldiers. Their chances of survival were drastically cut in half with them being nonbenders, even worse given the Pygmy Puma didn’t have the supplies to treat that illness. They could make something on the spot to build a sauna and hope they sweat it out in the night, but judging by the flushed faces and glazed looks, the fever had already started.

He mentally went down the list of symptoms. If the fever didn’t break soon, the hallucinations would follow and then the spots. When the spots appear, they would be beyond help. They should still have time.

“We’re almost to port.” Zuko explained. “Do you think they’ll make it until then?” Then another thought occurred as he cursed under his breath. “How could they have contracted it? We’ve been sailing for three weeks.” Symptoms don’t appear until two weeks after exposure. Nobody else on the crew had been exposed or showed any symptoms, and Zuko was certain almost all the benders and most of the nonbenders had already been exposed and survived, building up some form of immunity from their time in the Fire Nation before their banishment.

Pentapox was common in the Fire Nation, and had been a continuous problem on and off for centuries. Thankfully, it had been primarily contained thanks to them being an island nation and the majority of their population being firebenders who could burn out the sickness before any real noticeable symptoms could set in.

Murei sighed, her expression told him all he needed to know when she frowned at his last words.

“The avatar.” He almost blurted it but caught himself. She nodded.

Zuko cursed under his breath and felt the heat of his flame flare up inside his chest with anger. The urge to punch something very hard crawling under his skin as he cursed his own stupid single minded pursuits. He knew the dangers, they were all aware of it from the start ever since they visited the Air Temples and discovered the truth. He had hoped it wouldn’t be true. He wished that maybe something had changed, that time would have neutralized the risks but it was plain to see as he peered over at the miserable groans of his crewmates.

“We need to make port.” He growled. “We can’t survive without repairs and fresh supplies.” His gaze fixed back on Murei as he sighed. “The nearest port is Fire Nation controlled. They might have a sauna we could utilize- or we could build something similar.”

Murei nodded quietly. “Their fevers only started this morning. They have time.” She assured. “But I wouldn’t waste it regardless.”

Zuko nodded, feeling a small sliver of hope return to him. They had time and the port was just a day away. If they were quick, then his crew will be fine.

His crew will not be fine. Zuko was furious enough to spit fire from his mouth in a jet-like stream as anger welled up and burst from the place of least resistance. Of course Zhao was in port. Of fucking course. Zhao had denied Zuko and his crew the supplies they desperately needed and barely allowed them the repairs to keep their ship afloat. On top of that, Zuko, enraged by the quiet threats woven into the Commander’s words, had challenged the man to an Agni Kai. He had won the duel but Zuko walked away still feeling like he had lost.

They were forced to leave port later that night. Murei couldn’t procure the things they needed to help Sheng and Reiki.

It was at the early hours of the morning that Reiki developed the telltale spots of Pentapox, and by afternoon she had passed in her sleep. Sheng was not so fortunate as his hallucinations had driven him mad enough to bite his own tongue off and he had choked on the blood that drowned him in the evening. His spots had only just started to show. Zuko’s rage was rivaled only by the storm that stirred the waves as if in sympathetic anguish but it kept them far from shore and unable to make land long enough to give them a proper funeral. The rain pelted the deck and soaked him to the bone with its suffocating chill but he felt numb right down to his core, and only scowled and shouted his anger at the lightning that cracked across the darkened sky. His flames evaporated the droplets that threatened to challenge him, backed up by the waves that tried to sweep him off the slippery deck completely but his stubbornness rebuked the attempts and he remained boldly victorious but simultaneously broken.

When he had burned off the majority of his anguish, he trudged, soaking wet and slowly steaming the water off of his armor, back into the ship and stormed to his room. The rest of the crew had gathered in the mess for prayers and comfort. Uncle had gathered them while Lieutenant Jee oversaw the ship’s course in the harsh weather before the waves calmed enough to not leave him being bounced around his chambers. Sleep eluded him even as dark circles hung from his eyes and the puffy red irritation of exhaustion and grief crept over his already beaten expression. He glared at the flickering light of the candles and ignored the voice in the back of his head that told him he should meditate to calm down.

He settled in regardless, neglecting the flickering flame and the noisy groans of the ship as they navigated the choppy waters of the stormy sea until something calmed later in the night. His eyes felt heavy and sore as he palmed his good one with sleepy resignation, tempted minutely to remove his armor and crawl into bed to steal the last few hours left in the night before Agni’s light woke him at dawn.

Numb clumsy fingers fumbled with the straps on his shoulders when a heavy thunk smacked the door to his room. He startled, twisting quickly to inspect the entrance with a hesitant sound. “Uncle?” It sounded too heavy and clumsy to be Uncle though maybe one of the crew had tripped and caught themselves on the entrance. It wouldn’t surprise him with how the ship heaved and creaked under the motions of an angry sea. He could sympathize with its violence.

Releasing a frustrated sigh, he let his hands fall away from the straps and turned a suspicious gaze towards the door. Something about the sound had the hairs on his arms standing on end. His hackles prickled as he approached when another quieter rustling came.

He wondered absently if it was one of the other crew, maybe Jino or Quin. They were younger than the others, brash in their emotions but sentimental. Just a few years older than Zuko, they acted every bit the youthful insubordinates they were when they came aboard the Pygmy Puma . Well, that wasn’t quite right. They had actually volunteered to join their mission which startled many on the crew but they saw the opportunity for a unique adventure. The prince wasn’t the most social commander for their crew, but Jino and Quin had been more likely to seek him out if only for the blunt normalcy they often craved during times of distress. Or maybe they had caught on to his absence in the mess hall, or heard from Lieutenant Jee how he had challenged the wind and raging sea to a battle of resolve and stormed away in a begrudging state.

Uncle may have put them up to this, to console and check on him without being far too overbearing himself. Zuko heaved a sigh and stepped towards the door, giving it a quick turn as the hinges creaked against the efforts. His lips parted to berate whoever was on the other side for choosing to bother him at this hour instead of getting well overdue rest like the rest of the crew had been ordered to do, when the words died on his lips.

Glassy eyes of a faded brown had stared back at him, skin pasty and snowy white with dark blue veins like spilled ink racing across the bare torso. Cracked blood encrusted lips peeled back in a clumsy snarl as red stained teeth parted to groan, raspy and hollow. Sheng’s black hair had fallen from his topknot and scattered into a shaggy mess around his jaw, a sharp contrast against the translucent layers of his skin as he stood swaying unsteady on his feet. His attention was conflicted as he stared up at Zuko, wobbly and unfocused as if he were trying to see past a metal wall to see the man before him.

“Sheng?” Zuko’s voice was far too quiet on his breath as relief started to flood into his chest, hampered only by instinct that told him something was seriously wrong. It was only by virtue of the alarm bells ringing loudly in his head that Zuko held his ground and shifted his footing to a ready stance. The soldier’s head crooked unnaturally as his lips bared a feral smile before he lunged.

Zuko dodged, ducking towards the half open door to avoid the clumsy swipe of hands. His own palm pressed into the soldier’s shoulder to shove him past as he turned to face the man now standing like a blind drunkard in the middle of his room.

“Sheng, can you hear me? It’s me, Zuko!” Zuko tried to reason as he stepped back, entering the hall and shooting a quick glance both ways with hopes of finding someone else to help him. The man turned slowly, a shuffle of feet that weren’t accustomed to motion as those dead cold eyes fell back on him. “Sheng, let me call for Murei, okay?”

But Sheng wasn’t listening. Zuko raised his hands to shove the man back once more, trying to withhold bending at him. He was unwell. He needed help and Zuko was trying his best to remain calm and careful with him. Sheng was making that very hard.

He lunged and shuffled out into the hall, causing Zuko to slowly back down the corridor, hands raised placating towards the man who only groaned and growled at him like an animal. Zuko felt sick in his stomach as he led the man along the hall, occasionally peering back over his shoulder and praying to Agni that someone else will show up and help him. He was not prepared for delicate situations like these and a medical professional would be optimal.

As he approached a small crossroads in the ships halls, he glanced both ways before turning abruptly towards the infirmary, each step cautious as he lured Sheng towards Murei’s station, hopeful that she was still in there.

“Come on, keep following me. Good job, Sheng.” Zuko tried to keep his voice a measure of calm, lowering it so it was soft and didn’t share the hints of fear that swelled inside his chest with how unnatural and wrong Sheng was acting. This was not a normal occurrence for Pentapox but then again, the man hadn’t died from the spots which no longer seemed to be flecking his skin. He had supposedly asphyxiated but that was clearly incorrect now. The man looked cold and tired and so terribly sick still. Maybe the fever hadn’t given up and he was still hallucinating? The thought had occurred to Zuko and he was hopeful. Losing Reiki had been hard, and losing Sheng right after was even worse. He felt as if he had failed them both somehow but now, that pain didn’t feel as bad.

Sheng lunged again while Zuko wasn’t paying attention. His hands managed to catch on Zuko’s armor causing the firebender to grapple the man’s biceps to steady him. They both tripped and stumbled, with Sheng’s considerably larger more muscular weight bearing down on him, Zuko was hopeless to keep them both up when his balance wasn’t the best either. The ship heaved and sent them sprawling. His head struck the floor as he cried out in pain and shot a hand up to touch the base of his skull where blood dampened his fingertips.

Hissing through his lips, he peered out at Sheng with one eye when he felt the soldier’s weight scramble on top of him.

“Get off of me!” Zuko spat bitterly, grabbed at the soldier’s sides to shove him back but Sheng was impossibly strong as he leaned forward and snarled once more. A dark fluid dripped from his lips and splattered against Zuko’s armor. It smelled foul and acrid, like bile and blood. It took a moment for him to realize, that may be exactly what it was.

“Sheng, I said get off!” Zuko shouted, trying to grip the man’s shoulders and twist out from underneath him. He bucked and bounced and kicked, only succeeding in getting the man to grunt and grapple at him. The hands were clumsy and uncoordinated as they tugged and claws at his pauldrons then slid to encircle Zuko’s throat. Zuko stilled, his eyes widened (the left one as much as it could) in terror. Freezing cold hands gripped him firmly as the air was taken right from his lungs in a gasp of panic. Zuko scrambled, his feet kicking to find purchase under Sheng’s weight, his fingers clawing at the man’s hands then at his face trying to free himself. In a blind panic as his vision started to swim and darkness crept in at the edges, Zuko mustered with the last shreds of his energy to send a blast of fire at Sheng’s chest. Tears brimmed in his eyes as the stench of burning flesh filled his nostrils. He sucked in a sharp smoky breath when his hands finally drew away and Zuko could shove Sheng off in a blind panic to get his feet back underneath him.

He gulped in air and screamed at the top of his lungs, sending another blast of flame forward when Sheng lurched and crawled after him. The pale skin of his torso was spotted with blackened blistering skin that bubbled and twisted up, seeping dark fluid as he loomed forward and dragged his limbs across the metal floor. The scraping inhuman sounds terrified Zuko as he took an unsteady step back. His vision blurred with tears and the knot of nausea wrapped tighter in his guts. He could already taste the bile rising in his throat but he swallowed it back down and blinked back the tears.

The sounds of boots pounded the corridor as more of his men came rushing down the hall. Lieutenant Jee and Uncle Iroh had accompanied them as Zuko scrambled away from the crippled body moaning loudly in a desperate fumble to get at him. With gnashing teeth and cold dead eyes, Zuko realized that this thing was not Sheng. It was a reanimated husk of the soldier he had oversaw and served beside.

Sheng lunged and Zuko gave it a flaming kick to the face, desperate to keep his distance from this creature that pretended to be one of his own. The rest of the crew watched in quiet horror as the prince quickly stepped back and pointed at the creature with a strained shout. “It’s not Sheng!”

The raspy moans were gurgled and broken like wind whistling on the whims of a storm, it came from this creature’s singed lungs as flesh peeled and left streaks of foul fluids in its wake.

“Burn it!” Uncle Iroh had called with a certainty and coldness that Zuko had not seen in a long time. Lieutenant Jee had snapped out of his own shock and stepped in tune with Uncle as they moved in synchronicity to bend a wall of flames at the creature. It roared and enveloped the entire hallway, leaving very little in its wake but the blackened charred remains of the creature that ceased to so much as twitch. Zuko felt his legs give out underneath him as he dropped to the floor with a hollow gasp. His voice choked as the stench of burned human flesh filled the whole corridor. His hands were bleached white and trembling, his whole body rattled under the weight of horrid memories clashing with the pain of seeing one of his own, twisted and vile like that.

He heard a distant shout echo somewhere further into the ship and the rattle of a door. His head snapped up, recognizing the scream of their medic.

“Murei!” Zuko jerked forward, dismissing the painful visions and the faint traces of tightness in his own scar that ached, instead rocking to his feet as he moved before thinking. The rest of the men followed quickly in pursuit to rush down the hall towards the medic’s personal quarters and the adjacent supply room for the infirmary. The sound of metal shelves rattled dangerously as low snarls filled the air. Zuko spotted Reiki’s similarly distraught form attacking the shelving unit Murei had moved as a barrier to protect herself, pinned between it and the wall in one last desperate act of safety.

Lieutenant Jee and Quin rushed into the room to restrain Reiki, dragging her away from Murei. Uncle Iroh beckoned her to safety where he and Zuko stood, watching as they tried to wrestle the woman to the ground. She thrashed and bucked, growling and snarling like a beast, similarly cold dead eyes turned on them as her head twisted so far with so much force, Zuko could hear the vertebrae breaking. Her skin pulled taut and started to strained and bleed under the tension causing Quin to let go with a scream of horror. Lieutenant Jee ignited the scant clothes on her body with his own panicked grasp and watched as she began to burn as well.

Quin’s bending joined him as they burned the writhing body until nothing but a husk remained. A black lump of vaguely human shaped husk. Zuko felt the world give out from underneath him as Murei’s frantic tear streaked face turned at the raspy noise that escaped his chest. He turned, pale and shaky, made it three steps before vomiting then two more steps before his knees gave out and he collapsed to the ground in a heap on the cold metal floor of the ship. 

“Zuko!”

Only Uncle’s voice rang loud enough to reach his ears before he was devoured by darkness.

Chapter Text

Zuko wasn’t proud of himself when he woke in the safety of his private chambers with the warm red glow of fire dancing beyond his eyelids. He blinked up at the twisting morphing shadows in the candlelight and grimaced at the rough grate of his throat when he attempted to swallow. All the horrid memories flooded back to him and hot shame trickled into his stomach beside sickness. It felt like a nightmare. How could this have happened? What had gone wrong?

He stared up at the ceiling as if the answers would carve themselves into the metal work but nothing came and he felt no better about ignoring the problem. He needed to get up and move about, to give mobility to his thoughts and do something that wasn’t wallowing in the memories he wished he could forget. The icy cold grip of death as Sheng’s fingers wrapped around his throat. The way his lungs burned and his head felt like it was going to burst with the mounting pressure. His ears rang, unable to hear the low growls from his former crewman or the scrape of his boots against the metal floor in a frantic attempt to find purchase and escape.

The cold dread had sunk like a lead weight in his stomach as the flames flared, racing fire through his veins coiled beneath his skin like vipers prepared to strike. He didn’t want to- but he knew he had to in order to live. But did he really deserve to live when he had failed his crew in such a way? They could have been saved. If he had just kept his cool, if he had worked through the problem, if he had only chosen to stay a little longer and let Zhao’s words brush past him, he could have saved them. Instead he let his pride get in the way and now there were two corpses-

He felt the sting of bile creep up his throat with the urge to vomit. He scrambled upright in a sudden lurch that sent his head and heart doing somersaults inside his body. His stomach clenched and dizziness rushed upon him so quickly, he narrowly managed to hold it back with a hard swallow until he could spot the empty bucket beside his bed. His thoughts of Murei leaving it for him were quickly shoved aside as he grabbed it and threw his legs over the ledge so they were planted firmly against the cold steel of the floor. His bare toes curled against the temperature as he settled the bucket between his knees and retched into it.

His body folded over himself as his stomach tried to give more than it had to offer until spittle and bile clung to his lips and his eyes blurred too much for him to make out anything other than wavering shadows like ritualistic dancing from spirit gatherings. He gasped, groaned and felt the tickle of his hair against his neck as sweat dampened his brow.

‘I’m not sick. I’m not sick. I’m not sick.’ He had to remind himself of this as he felt his stomach heave painfully in little bursts until he could catch his breath and try to calm himself. The putrid stench wasn’t helping at all but he wasn’t feeling steady enough to let go of the bucket.

He managed to blink the tears away enough to reach for a handkerchief from his bedside long enough to wipe his mouth clean and wadded it up in his fist as he sucked in another breath, followed by another until he could calm his racing heart. His head throbbed and even the faint light of the room made his eyes hurt and prickle with more tears before he wiped them away with the back of his hand. It took Zuko a moment to realize someone had removed his armor entirely and undressed him until just his trousers remained for modesty. The blood was cleaned up from his minor injuries, and his bruises had the slight sheen and bitter herbal aroma of salve glistening over the dark blue and blackish hue.

He was just beginning to relax a little as he set the bucket aside, just out of the way of his feet but close enough to reach for emergencies, when a knock came at the door. Zuko stilled, his hands tightened into fists as his head snapped up with dizzying force to look towards the entrance. His mind racing as he imagined Sheng’s grey and shambling body looming on the other side, the sound of nails grating against the metal frame in clumsy half remembered fumbles of human monotony such as opening doors. The smell of blood and bile on the man’s- no, monster’s breath. His stomach lurched with a hollow ache and he felt the sudden urge to grab for the bucket again, but his instincts told him he needed his head up and his hands ready to fight off whatever was coming for him. He wouldn’t be caught off guard again.

He rose to his feet, unsteady as the ship rocked and his balance was still off causing him to wobble in place.

“Prince Zuko, are you awake?” The voice of his Uncle was a balm to his ears as he released a sigh of relief. His legs gave up their valiant attempt to stay upright as he fell back down, hard, against his bed. The frame groaned in protest but he didn’t care as he leaned his elbows against his knees and cradled his head in his hands.

“Come in.” His voice was a weak rasp but loud enough for the general to hear and enter. He didn’t look up to face the door as he focused on breathing, on thinking of anything other than Sheng’s cold dead eyes and the crimson stains of his teeth and blood encrusted lips. He tried to remember the man he served with instead, of the fond smiles and jabbing banter. The elbow nudges and light hearted bets for stupid outcomes, of the pai sho games he played with Uncle and the friendly pranks he played on Quin and Jino when they were new and still so green. Of the heavy weight of a reassuring hand that steadied him after an intense wave nearly swept him off the deck his first year on the Pygmy Puma and how he taught Zuko a series of various sailing knots from the days of assisting his father with their fishing vessel when he was still a kid.

He may have not been a bender but Zuko could respect and trust Sheng. He had right up until the end. And Sheng trusted him to help and Zuko couldn’t. He couldn’t do a single damn thing for him or Reiki. He couldn’t stop this from happening and that was on him. This crew was his responsibility and after three years of fighting and struggling to make his stance known, he still failed to give back to his crew and the loyalty they had shown him over the years.

“Are you alright?” Uncle approached slowly, his steps hesitant and calculated as if he feared he would upset Zuko further, but some part of Zuko wanted his Uncle to rush towards him and wrap him into a strong hug like he would when he was a child and tell him everything was okay. He wanted to give up the responsibilities rattling around in his head, to scream and shout and grieve openly and tell him everything that was going through his mind and how fucking terrified he was. But he didn’t. He shoved it all down with a rattling shaky breath and straightened up to address the older man with a stilted nod.

It wasn’t the honest truth but Iroh didn’t comment on that. His gaze shifted towards the bucket sitting beside Zuko and the saliva stained handkerchief still wound in his fist. The prince was certain he looked far worse for wear, with bloodshot red ringed eyes and the pallor of his skin looking worse even than Sheng’s and Reiki’s.

“Would you like me to call for Murei?” Uncle asked gently, his voice softened like the echo of the man he was when Zuko woke up from that fateful Agni Kai with too many bandages on his face and a fever bright in his eyes as the old man tried to coax a medicinal bitter drink past his lips with quiet promises that he will be better soon. That sleep will come easily.

‘You should rest, Prince Zuko. A man needs his rest.’ 

Neither Sheng or Reiki were resting as they still clawed at the door of his mind with haunting moans and the grating nails that dragged and pulled. His hand reached to touch the dark bruising that purpled his throat in the shape of hands and tried to swallow but his throat tightened and it felt so hard to breathe. His eyes must have shown what Zuko was thinking, because in seconds, Uncle Iroh was perched on the edge of his bed, positioned on his right side as he rested a warm hand against his bare back and started tracing slow calming circles across his shoulder blades.

Zuko let his body lean against his Uncle’s side, sheltered by the strong arm that slipped around him as he closed his eyes and breathed with the measured pace of the old dragon. The lights in the room flickered and synced with his breaths, rising and falling in gentle controlled lulls. When he opened his eyes again, he could breathe a little better though his throat still felt trashed and raw, his voice was worse for wear as he forced the words out before he could let the suffocating silence smother him any further.

“How’s the crew doing?”

Uncle’s expression was a conflicting mix of pained and proud as his old eyes - still bright and safe and a brilliant golden- inspected him thoughtfully. He looked like he was preparing the words in his head as if this answer was far more complicated than it needed to be, but then again was it really so simple? Of course it was complicated. Something horrible had happened, they were unprepared and it had hit a very personal place. He couldn’t imagine the others would be taking it any easier than he was.

“They’re worried about you, Prince Zuko.”

“What?” Zuko blanched in confusion. His voice broke a little as he continued, lacking his usual heat and conviction. “I’m fine.”

Uncle’s eyes quietly lowered towards the bruises around his throat and then to the bucket hidden partially by the prince’s feet. Zuko stiffened and turned his head away when Iroh’s gaze returned to meet his and the prince couldn’t face the silent look that said ‘we both know that is not the truth, Prince Zuko’ .

 Zuko swallowed dryly and grimaced at the foul taste in his mouth and the way his saliva only seemed to cling to his throat and gather until he was forced to clear it or suffocate. The hard cough came and made him wince as it upset the already dull throbbing in his head to something sharp and painful.

“What is our current course?” He decided to ask instead, it felt safer to him. Less invasive to the thoughts that clouded his mind and left him conflicted and ashamed.

Uncle heaved a breath, a deep sigh of resignation at the deflection Zuko was doing. “There is a small Earth Kingdom port nearby. We’re half a day’s journey to it. Lieutenant Jee and Kit are going to take a skiff to shore to purchase more supplies. We’re going to dock south of the town in a small sheltered cove.”

“And the remains?” Zuko needed to know. He needed that reassurance that he won’t wake to that horrible scene again. Of claws grappling at his throat and the death rattle of burned lungs loud in his ears. The stench of bile and burnt human flesh clotting his nostrils.

“Already disposed of properly.” Uncle assured him. “After you lost consciousness, the storm let up and we made quick work of cleansing the ship of contamination. That does not mean we aren’t going to stay safe for a few days. We don’t know how different this form of Pentapox is.”

Zuko tracked the thought and nodded. Lieutenant Jee and Kit were both firebenders. They had also caught a nasty case of Pentapox before and survived, developing a strong immunity. They were the safest in the crew to avoid spreading it outside of the ship and with a proper decontamination room they could burn out any traces of it before they leave and after they return. Nothing can survive their fire.

"Nephew." Uncle Iroh's voice was impossibly quiet and apologetic. He didn't need to explain what he was thinking, it was written on the older man's face as he gazed at him with worry. Zuko was familiar with the protocols.

"Do we have a proper decontamination room staged yet?" He asked quietly, his voice a croak in his throat. 

"Murei has set it up just down the hall." In close enough proximity so he doesn't risk spreading it through the ship should he be infected or carrying it. He nodded slowly, rising to his feet with a tiny sway. Uncle reached out to steady him but Zuko gave him a gentle brush off.

"Don't worry, Prince Zuko. I'll be assisting you in the process." It didn't surprise him that Uncle Iroh had volunteered to potentially be exposed. He steadied himself and allowed the older man to lead him away. The sound of the door opening made his stomach clench as cold dread curled around it for good measure as he peered up and down the hall warily. Uncle noticed his paranoia and offered only a reassuring smile to console his fears.

Zuko would have bristled at that but he didn't have the energy to spare for it. He needed to save it for what was coming.

The room was at the end of the hall, just a small storage space that had all of its shelves and inventory carried out. There were candles lining a mantle and a trough full of water with two buckets set next to it. Once Uncle Iroh had closed the door behind them, securing the hatch firmly, he directed Zuko to sit in the middle of the floor.

He took up a meditative pose automatically, hoping to calm his racing heart and panicked thoughts. Once he was breathing in time with the candles lit around the room, Uncle spoke with care.

"Breathe and focus, nephew. You need to burn it all away." Zuko was aware of what would follow. Unfortunately, being aware of the process and actually getting splashed with a bucket of freezing cold water didn't make it any less unpleasant. The chill seeped into his pants and made his sweaty flushed skin feel cool and clammy until he breathed and let his inner flame rise and grow outwards, spreading warmth through his chilled limbs.

He had to maintain a constant temperature. Just high enough to make the water steam off of him, but nothing more. He had to conserve his energy for the unpleasant hours to follow. It was exhausting work after his earlier ordeal and he was still too shaky and weak to do much else but he was fueled by his stubbornness and braced for every cold bucket that hit him. It stole his breath and made the candles gutter until he regained control, easing out another controlled breath as the cold droplets racing down his spine evaporated. Uncle dumped a bucket on him every fifteen to twenty minutes, gauging the heat of his skin and the rapidly growing steam that filled the room until it was a stifling sauna. The suffocating warmth at least allowed him to avoid shivering when another bucket of cold was tipped over his head and washed down his face and back splashing his shoulders in icy waves.

The water trough was almost empty when Zuko's resolve gave with a dizziness that made him break from his meditation. The ship lurched and he felt the whole world tip and spin behind his closed eyelids causing his stomach to perform more than a few unnecessary acrobatics in the process. He jerked in a panic as the sensation of falling rushed over him and found himself panting and on his knees. Uncle Iroh knelt beside him, one hand slowly massaging his right shoulder with soothing sounds and whispered reassurances and praise.

Zuko's arms shook with weakness and the exhaustion of the last few days creeped up on him like a haunted shadow of doubt. His inner flame reflected it with it's small kindling, starved and weary for relief.

"You did good, Prince Zuko. I believe it's time for you to rest. A man needs his rest." The strong hands of his Uncle helped him to his feet and guided him back to his room. Zuko noted that the door was open and the faint scent of something sterile and bitter wafted out, causing the throb of his headache to sharpen with a wrinkling of his nose. It took him a moment to recognize the sanitation solution Murei often used for the infirmary. His entire room reeked of it where she had dutifully scrubbed and replaced his old bedding with fresh. A new bucket replaced the old one beside his bed and a tray was prepared for tea. Zuko couldn't tell if that was an order made early by Uncle Iroh or if the crew had expected it to come regardless and thought ahead.

Uncle was quick to begin preparing two cups for them as Zuko was urged to rest in his newly made bed. It felt strange to have someone else do it for him. It was something he hasn't encountered since he was banished, often preferring his room to remain his private space without any of the crew interfering with it. Uncle was, of course, the one exception to that rule.

The frame groaned under the weight as he settled into the bed. He rolled his shoulders and flexed his back with a few satisfying pops after sitting static for so long. The soft aroma of jasmine lulled his thoughts and cast a net of calm across his mind when the warm cup was pressed into his waiting palms. He breathed deeply of the scent before lifting the rim to his lips and allowing the soothing heat to heal some of the roughness that grated his throat raw. It felt better, even if it stinged a little at first but each swallow came easier and spread a familiar reassuring heat through the base of his stomach. His inner flame radiated a little brighter in appreciation.

They settled in the quiet of his room, Uncle had come to rest beside Zuko as they sipped their tea and relaxed against the edge of his bed. The quiet rocking of the ship on the waves as it groaned with familiar protest against the tides eased the tension out of the prince’s shoulders. His cup settled lazily in his lap, empty now as he fidgeted it between his fingers and enjoyed the warm living presence of his Uncle’s figure against his side. At some point Zuko had drifted across the narrow polite space Uncle Iroh had created between them and found himself leaned against the older man. Uncle didn’t appear to notice or be bothered by the effort, if anything he had slowly and subtly adjusted to allow Zuko to get more comfortable beside him.

Sleep drew heavy shadows across his vision and caused his eyelids to droop. Uncle’s hand came to claim the cup from his weakened grasp and set both back on the tray. A gentle touch of fingers on his shoulder pushed him back onto the bed.

“You should rest, nephew.” Uncle Iroh urged. Zuko yielded and allowed himself to stretch out comfortably in the new clean sheets that smelled faintly of lavender from the wash. He pawed clumsily at the blankets to cover himself to mid chest. Uncle smiled warmly and collected the tea tray before bidding him sweet dreams. The door closed noisily behind him with a whine that made Zuko mark it down next time as needed to be oiled again before he gave under the quiet comforts he had grown accustomed to on the ship.

Lieutenant Jee and Kit returned with the necessary supplies they desperately needed and that Zhao had denied them, plus an additional bit of knowledge that he wasn’t expecting. During dinner with Uncle, Lieutenant Jee had entered, apologetic for the interruption before explaining that the Avatar was on Kyoshi Island.

Any appetite he had previously harbored was gone. Every bite of food tasted like ash in his mouth, sour and unpleasant as bile crept up his throat. His mind shifted to the cold dead gazes of Sheng and Reiki then morphed to that of an island of people sharing those same groaning motions and that uncaring coldness in their eyes. Pale and lifeless and violent.

“We need to stop him.” The words were blurted before Zuko could even think further on it. Lieutenant Jee stood at attention, awaiting his orders while Uncle calmly sipped his tea. His thoughts were focused, his face passive in the way that Zuko could see the shadow of the old General as he considered the information before him before deciding a course of action in a major battle. Patient and listening, Zuko pushed on.

“He probably doesn’t even realize what he’s doing. He’s just a child. He needs to know, he needs to be stopped.” Zuko’s words came out harsher than he intended but he couldn’t ignore the pain he still felt like a weight in his gut. He couldn’t shrug off the new nightmares that haunted him last night and left him screaming in a cold sweat this morning as he cried out and begged for Sheng to come to his senses. So that he wouldn’t have to burn him. So he didn’t have to smell the flames eating at human flesh or see the swell of blisters that grew across his skin. Uncle knew, of course he had, he had come knocking in the night upon hearing Zuko’s panic and feared the worst. He couldn’t sleep again after that, donning his newly cleaned armor and stalking about the ship until he could drag one of the crew into a well overdue spar to let coiled heat beneath his skin come out in a burst of flames. He needed to not feel helpless anymore. To reassure himself that he could do better.

“And how are we going to contain him without risking the safety of the ship?” Uncle had asked calmly, setting his chopsticks down as he waited for an answer.

Zuko searched his mind for a plan, already piecing one together.

“The avatar needs to learn the four elements, yes?” Uncle nodded. Zuko continued. “We can keep him isolated and manage the illness. He appears to be a healthy carrier so he may not become sick at all. We just need to contain him until he can awaken his own inner flame and properly burn it out.”

Uncle Iroh just watched him thoughtfully, waiting for Zuko to continue.

“I just need to get him alone long enough to explain. I have the research to back it up. I’ve spent three years collecting every ounce of information there is on this illness.” He gestured pointedly at Uncle Iroh. “You’re one of the strongest firebenders in the Fire Nation army, Uncle. The Dragon of the West. Surely you could train the avatar and teach him to awaken his inner flame.”

Uncle sighed. “Prince Zuko, there is a balance to be kept. There is an order for the avatar cycle for a reason. It creates a foundation that builds and teaches him how to control the elements and discipline himself with that power. Fire would be the last element for him to learn. He would first need water and then earth.”

Zuko scowled briefly before arguing. “We could help with that. There are plenty of masters that would be capable of helping the avatar. He needs to remain contained regardless, Uncle. If this sickness spreads, Sheng and Reiki won’t be the only victims of it.” His fingers wound into heated fists that started to scorch the table’s surface before he caught himself and forced his fingers to relax and his flame to quiet.

After a minute of tense silence, Lieutenant Jee spoke up. “Your orders, sir?”

It wasn’t known who he was talking to as he maintained a neutral stance between the two royals. But Uncle Iroh spoke in Zuko’s stead as he directed calmly. “To Kyoshi Island, Lieutenant.”

Zuko relaxed and let his head hang only a little in shame for his behavior. Uncle didn’t comment on the outburst and simply poured a fresh cup of tea for them both. Zuko allowed himself to be coaxed into accepting one and let the heat funnel from the ceramic into his too warm palms. The steam lasted longer than it normally would but the calming aroma eased his mind and reminded him of a missing appetite.

Kyoshi island shouldn’t have been a problem. It was, by every ounce of knowledge Zuko has gathered over the years, and confirmed through Uncle, a neutral island in the war. As long as ships and travelers obey that order of neutrality and don’t start any fights, they can find safe harbor on their shores. The island was a day from the port they had stopped at, which allowed them a chance to plan and prepare. They saddled their komodo rhinos and made their way up the banks of the island’s shore, headed for the only known village on the landmass.

Leading his crew, Zuko wasn’t really sure what he had expected to find, but a town full of frightened people who scurried inside their homes wasn’t part of it. The statue of Avatar Kyoshi loomed above them, gazing down on him with watchful eyes that felt as if they were boring into his soul. He adjusted in the saddle, feeling uncomfortable under its scrutiny.

Chen and Quin rode on the left side of him. Jino and Ezra were on another mount. All four were capable firebenders and fighters as they steered their komodo rhinos to the right side of him. Lieutenant Jee lingered closer to Zuko’s rhino as they shifted nervously in the stillness. It was too quiet, even as scared eyes peered out the slotted windows and shutters to peek at them. Not even the town elder approached them in greeting.

Clearing his throat, the deep rasp rattled out still from the painful rawness as he spoke loud enough to be heard. “We’re here to speak with the avatar. It’s urgent.”

A minute passed as Zuko shared a sideways look with his men, ensuring he had projected his voice enough to be heard. Jee confirmed this with a nod, before turning a stern look upon the village, his brow raised and mostly hidden behind the rim of his helm.

“Avatar, come out! You can’t hide from me forever!” Zuko called, hoping the young boy would come to his senses and reveal himself. He had been sensible before until he broke his promise and fled, leaving Zuko’s ship in a state of disarray. Those losses had been steep.

The wait was long and when no sign of the monk revealed itself, Zuko turned to his crew. “Find him. He can’t be far. We need to minimize the risks.”

With a quiet “Yes sir.” His men began a slow pace moving through the village. The komodo rhinos grunted as they lumbered at a sedated pace, his men’s eyes scanning the doorways, windows and alleyways of the village, looking for any signs of the avatar and his companions. His fears started to crawl under his skin as he waited at the entrance of the town with haunted thoughts of what may have become of the two water tribesmen accompanying him. If the infection rate was as fast as it was for Reiki and Sheng, then they probably haven’t lived long.

Zuko’s gaze lifted, his good eye caught a shadow of movement on the rooftops causing him to tense. Any word of warning he may have sent to his men was cut short as the quick dart of green took them off the backs of the komodo rhinos. His jaw gaped in shock when another green blur rushed upon him with a fan blade extended. On reflex, he jerked the reins, causing his mount to whip its tail around and repel the attack.

‘I thought this place was neutral ground!’  He growled mentally and prepared for another attack. He sent a burst of controlled fire to force the warrior away from his mount before a second lunged at him. He was knocked off of the rhino, tossed back by the shock of the move that sent him sprawling across the narrow porch adjacent to where he was perched.

His golden eyes lifted to address the warriors that surrounded him. His jaw gaped as he paled at the sight. Their faces were a pasty white, dark eyes glaring at him with contempt except for a pair of arctic blue, as cold and uncaring as the polar waters they had previously fought through for weeks.

Cold dead eyes glazed and hungry, hands clawing their way for his throat. Clammy skin, pale and translucent stretched to its limits as low growls rasped from hollow chests. A reddish black mixture of blood and bile staining Sheng’s lips-

All the air felt like it had been punched out of him as the warriors took a step forward and panic crept in. They were too close. Pasty white faces, gaunt and blood stained lips. Danger! Run! Get away!

His mind screamed at him as he lifted a hand to defend himself. The fire itched beneath his skin, looking for an escape as his heart thundered loudly within the cage of his own ribs. His gasp of air came quick and sudden as every muscle in his body wound tight then moved on instinct. 

‘Get away! Get away! Get away!’ He repeated it in his head as he kicked his legs in a sweeping circle that spread flames in a defensive shield to protect himself. He lunged to his feet quickly, scrambling to put distance between him and the warriors. The flames started to eat away at the houses and their flammable rooftops.

“The fire’s spreading!” Someone shouted but they sounded impossibly far away. He lifted his hands to try to control it, struggling to steady his breathing enough to capture the flames and remove the heat, but another fan struck him severing his link with the fire as it roared untethered and spread out of control. He cursed under his breath and tried to parry the strike. His own men had been forced to scatter by the warriors in green armor and face paint- cold, dead, clammy and aggressive. Blood stained lips and gnashing teeth, hands that gripped his throat, desperate, pleading, suffocating, he can’t breathe…

“Hey! Over here!” A familiar voice called, drawing Zuko’s attention towards the child monk in orange garments. He stood with his glider in hand as he waited near the statue of Kyoshi.

“Finally.” Zuko breathed, relieved that maybe this whole mess could end. He took a few steps forward but an errant ball of flame was shot by one of his men trying to fend off the attacks of the warriors. A coil of heat tightly formed went by in a blur of orange as it careened towards the avatar. Zuko’s eyes widened as the boy sliced the fire away in a skilled strike of his staff, then turned a powerful wall of air onto Zuko. The frown on the young monk’s face told him the boy thought that was entirely intentional. Zuko cursed under his breath as he tried to reign in this disaster. The houses were burning quickly, catching like kindling as he tried to focus and draw the heat away, to stop the spread and destruction but every step of his bending was hindered by more attacks. His men were preoccupied and the avatar assumed he was here with violent intent.

‘How had this gone so wrong so quickly?’ He groaned inwardly and he kicked the monk’s staff away then lifted his hands to placate the boy. Two fans were airbent up into the avatar’s grip then promptly used to knock the firebender back into one of the walls of the house behind him. The embers rained down around him from the weakened roof before it gave. Zuko lifted his hands to shield his face and sent a wave of heat outwards to repel it further and climbed out of the damaged and smoldering wood.

“I had hoped we could have come to a peaceful arrangement but I see I was wrong.” His voice was rough and edged painfully as he stumbled out of the wreckage. The avatar was already gone and nothing remained but the plumes of grey smoke billowing up and the heat of the flames roaring around him, spread by the airbender’s reckless attacks.

Zuko tried, once again, to lessen the flames but it was no use. He would snuff one fire but another would soon replace it as it found increasingly more kindling to gorge on like a gluttonous beast. He tilted his head up when he heard the quiet groan of the sky bison as it took flight and felt resignation settle in his gut at the shrinking silhouette in the distance. He wasn’t expecting to see the airbender’s form dive off the bison and into the ocean, or for it to rise riding a giant sea serpent but he had never felt more grateful for the water that streamed from the beast’s maw and doused the growing flames permanently.

The warriors had stopped in their tracks, tilting their heads to greet the monster with quiet reverence. His own men had paused, taking several steps away to place a comfortable distance between the women for a retreat.

“Men, stand down!” Zuko shouted, his voice breaking at the effort. He grimaced and scowled bitterly as his throat protested the effort. The warriors watched them with caution as he stepped towards them, closing the distance as he signaled the ranks to fall in around him.

Their ready stances remained, wary and alert as he pinched the bridge of his nose and growled, snapping out at the whole town in outrage.

“WHAT IN AGNI’S NAME WAS THAT?! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR NEUTRALITY?!” His voice raged against the stunned warriors as he gestured at the burnt buildings and the banged up members of his crew. “What is wrong with you people?! We came here with no intention of fighting anybody!”

“You set fire to our village!” One of the warriors, a brunette woman with startling blue eyes, stared him down, similar to the water tribe pair he had encountered but not as cold as theirs had been. More of a dull cornflower than the striking glacial. 

“YOU ATTACKED US FIRST!” Zuko shouted in outrage, gesturing at the singular komodo rhino that remained lingering around the village. The other three had run off to Agni knows where and they were going to have to track them down and address any injuries of both the men and their mounts. This was not how he had intended for this day to go.

“Then why did you come here?” The woman closed her fans and crossed her arms with a look of disdain. Zuko ground his teeth in irritation and forced the words out.

“We’re on a mission to offer medicinal aid to stop an outbreak that the avatar has been unknowingly spreading! I’ve been trying to catch up to him so we can stop this illness from getting out of control.” He ground out. “It is highly lethal.”

There was a quiet mutter among the people as villagers who had escaped the smoldering remains of their homes had gathered on the charred streets to hear what the newcomers had to say.

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really.” Zuko took a deep breath and calmed himself as he continued. His voice was a measure of neutrality as he admitted. “Two of my crew came in contact with the avatar. They contracted the illness from him and died. Since then, we’ve been trying to intercept him to avoid this from spreading.”

“How do you know you’re not spreading it now?” One of the other warriors challenged bitterly.

“Because firebenders have a natural immunity against it.” He answered. “Our higher body temperature offers a very low chance of it surviving. And we’re accustomed to the protocols for managing outbreaks like these.”

When the warriors continued to share looks of disbelief, Zuko growled out in frustration. “If you don’t want our help, fine. Deal with it on your own. We’ll just collect our rhinos and leave you to it.” He threw his hands up and stormed off as he shouted over his shoulder to the lieutenant. “Inform the general what transpired. Jino, Quin, Chen, come with me.” He had three komodo rhinos to find.