forever i will live for you

wounds/wounded

Sokka wasn't much of a dancer. But Aang was, therefore Sokka did his best to participate, if only to see Aang smile. At any and every party they attended, whatever events the Avatar's presence was mandated at and Sokka was his plus one, he would allow Aang to pull him into at least one dance. Sometimes more, but never less. Toph often teased him about the compromise, but hey—it worked for them.

And come hell or high water, Sokka always gave Aang that one dance. He'd done so with blisters on his feet, a broken arm, a sprained ankle, and once with a concussion. Although Aang had stopped that last dance immediately when Sokka's vision began to spin faster than they were.

Of course, Aang had danced through pain numerous times, too. Being lighter on his feet, Sokka often didn't notice until after the fact, which always earned Aang extensive scolding. Not that Aang ever learned his lesson. But at the end of the day, Sokka gave their dance his all and Aang responded in turn, guaranteeing that one dance together was the best anyone had of the night.

Right now, though? Yeah, Sokka wasn't sure either of them would make great dance partners, what with Aang bleeding out from a knife wound to his stomach while Sokka desperately tried to stem the flow. The blue fabric in his hands turned violet as he pressed it against the wound, soaking up too much blood too damn fast—

"The one party Katara couldn't make it to, huh?" Aang croaked. Sokka could barely hear him above the frenzied cries of the crowd fleeing around them. Apparently an attempted assassination was too much for ordinary people to handle.

"Now's not the time to think in retrospect," Sokka muttered, abandoning the blood-soaked cloth for another wide strip of fabric he'd torn from his robes. Teo was chasing down an Earth Kingdom healer—no waterbender, but it wasn't like they could be picky—as Sokka worked, while Mai and Ty Lee were 'taking care of' the would-be assassin.

Would-be. Because Aang was not dying tonight.

It had all happened so quickly, which Sokka kicked himself for even silently admitting to. Impractical, unhelpful, useless.

He, Teo, and Aang had helped the town over the course of the week with some mechanical and political issues. As thanks, they'd been offered a chance to attend the community-wide dinner. Aang was never one to turn down hospitality—nor Sokka food—and so the three had accepted the invitation in seconds. Mai and Ty Lee had tagged along at Zuko's request to assist in the work efforts, hence their inclusion, too. But apparently the dinner being such a local, isolated event had made it the perfect target.

They'd stood up to dance, he and Aang. The one dance Sokka promised him for every event. Maybe that was the issue—they were predictable. Had a routine. Because when Aang had offered Sokka his hand and thrown him that charming grin, a grin that still made Sokka's heart flutter after all these years, they'd both been—Sokka had been—too distracted to notice a man burst out of the crowd and twist a blade into and out of Aang's stomach.

Aang had doubled over, orange robes stained scarlet, and everything was a blur after that.

Sokka tightened the fabric around Aang's midsection before putting pressure back over the wound, knowing his partner couldn't afford to lose any more blood.

"Where—Where are the others?" Aang hissed in pain as he tried to sit himself up, Sokka promptly freeing one hand to grab his shoulder and hold him still. "Teo? Mai and Ty Lee?"

"They are otherwise entertained," Sokka replied, trying to prevent fear from leaking into his tone in the form of frustration. "Just—don't move, Aang. This wound could start bleeding again if you shift an inch too much."

The truth was that the wound had never really stopped bleeding, the spill of crimson only slowed, but Sokka had a feeling Aang knew that without needing to be told. The Avatar had always been too perceptive for his own good.