Burn a little brighter (Zukka - Soulmate AU)

Chapter 14

"Zuko."

Coughs wrack his body. Heat fills him up. He feels like he's dying within himself, like he's cooking himself alive and his flesh is his prison.

Soft touches keep him grounded. Soft touches keep him breathing. They brush against his cheek as he's gifted water, they hold up his head as he sputters it out, they're constant. Sometimes he thinks they're mom, could swear he sees her dark hair drifting gently down, but at some point, crystal blues materialize into his conscious, and he clings to them, needs them there. When they disappear, he cries out, warbled and croaky but determined. Because when he does, then they'll come back, worried. Worry.

He misses worry. He misses when worry meant love, when it meant mom protected him. Now uncle protects him, and somewhere inside, he knows uncle loves him. But uncle masks his worry. Zuko wouldn't want to see it anyway; that's probably why uncle conceals it. Sometimes, Zuko considers he's too dumb to notice all the little ways uncle must show it; Zuko's always been dumb.

"You haven't. You've had your moments, many moments, but always? Nah. You're not dumb, Zuko."

Foggy heat and sickness, and he's imagining these words? The water that'd gently been guided into his mouth hours ago becomes water he now uses as his eyes fill up. Messy tears spill down, ones that catch blue eyes. He feels rough, long fingers cupping his face, so fondly. He doesn't deserve them. He never did.

"You do."

Through the haze, he's gifted a smile. He can't manage to give his own back, but he wants to. It's been so long since he did. He can't remember. Not since his father-

His face is twitching, and it's scaring him because the fear in his chest is suddenly thick. His scar pulsates. There's a memory trying to crowd him.

"Breathe, Zuko, breathe for me."

He does breathe. He falls asleep too. In between, he finds a little fire. He wakes up disjointed, searching for those flames. They're like his own, so familiar. They beat like a tiny heart, this little fire that's his but isn't. It's softer than his own, barely knows its potential.

Eventually, the heat in his brain fizzles away. The world clears up in a way that's terribly real and terribly bitter. The smiles are gone.

"Where are we? When did you capture me? Where are you taking me?"

Ah, this he knows. The accusations. The anger. He realizes, as he's pinned to a wall by a Water Tribe idiot, that he'd done a funny little job at hallucinating that tenderness. People don't speak to him with love. He knew that.

---

Zuko radiates heat as he sleeps. Waves of warmth sweep over Sokka's skin. It's making him sweat. He moves away as far as he can, but there's only so many crates, and he doesn't know when the Fire Nation soldiers will think to check the ones in the back.

At first, he thought Zuko falling asleep was a good thing because it would let Sokka get a plan together, but it's been hours, and his plan is as flimsy as his hope to understand this situation. He keeps his eyes away from the eaten fruits scattered around them, from the way his stomach is somehow full, from the note crumpled in his pocket. When he sniffs his clothes, what was the smell of ocean seawater hours ago is now tangy, musty sweat. What was grass underneath him is hardened iron. Sun is now a sinister red glow haunting the lower decks.

He stares at Zuko, who would look dead to the world if he wasn't writhing around in little movements, wincing with eyes tightly shut. Sokka fades out a little, into his mind, into somewhere where he doesn't have to think of anything. Just for a moment. No plans, no familiar fire tugging inside his chest, no fear crawling up his skin. He's not scared. Why would he be scared? It's not like he's on a Fire Nation ship, with the Fire Nation prince. He's Sokka. He's strong. He's holding himself together through it all. The lump in his throat is easier to focus on than the subtle rocking underneath, than the vomit threatening to sear up his esophagus. He's Sokka. Older brother to Katara. Katara who's... gone. Who doesn't know where he is.

He doesn't know where he is.

His eyes drag across the floor, avoiding Zuko now. There's clanging above them. It's gotten louder. Sokka knows he should focus. He's been doing well handling stuff- well, decent enough. So he sucks in a breath that tastes like bile and lifts up his eyes.

Started golden ones stare back at him. They're unfamiliar.

Sokka's body goes numb. Wholly and completely. Chills travel to the tips of his fingers and leave them tingly and dead.

The soldier scrambles away. He's young enough that he's running instead of attacking, hurling himself at the open door, and Sokka bolts. He's tackling the man to the ground in an instant but not quickly enough to muffle the soldier's shouts of "Help! Help!" that echo down the hallway. A fist slams into Sokka's head, and he hits the floor, clutching it in pain. He grabs blindly in front of him, knocking the sword of out the soldier's shaky grasp, and when he hears it clatter to the ground, he dives for it in panicked precision.

The soldier's gone. Taken off down the hallway, and Sokka grabs the handle and rapidly scans for an alternate escape, shit, shit, shit! He runs back to Zuko, who's sitting up like he's just awoken, groggy and confused and now is not the time.

Sokka barely knows how to work a sword. He almost hands it to Zuko before realizing that who be unbearably stupid.

"Get up, get up!" He hoists Zuko up by his arm, dragging him to a second door sheltered behind more crates. Zuko's tripping over his own two feet. There's shouting, distant but approaching closer. Zuko's shouting something too, but under the roar of everything else, it doesn't even reach Sokka's hearing. Panic's fizzling through his arms. There's a ladder in front of them.

"Ladder? You can climb up a ladder, right Zuko?" he begs and pushes him onto it. By now, Zuko has to have heard the commotion, has to know his people are close to saving him, and he turns to Sokka. Their eyes meet. For a moment, neither moves.

Sokka's heart clenches. Zuko's eyes aren't filled with relief or anger.

He's terrified. He looks exactly like Sokka's racing heart feels. He doesn't shove Sokka aside, take his sword, and make a run for it. No, he coughs out something that rattles his entire body and then climbs up the ladder with sweat-slicked fingers that fumble but don't pause, and Sokka heaves shut the iron door behind them.

They're up another level, and Sokka takes off in the first promising direction, but his collar's yanked back. It chokes him, and he twists to find Zuko releasing him with a hoarse "Not that way." He doesn't check to see if Sokka listens to him. Sokka hates himself for listening to him.

Up another level. Shouting's lower now, but they already passed one soldier moving quickly enough that he didn't question their outfits, but their luck's running out with the slaps of each step they take, and Sokka's hand is shaking so badly it's almost impossible he hasn't dropped the sword.

Ocean wind whips at his hair, the sea stretching in front of him, and he realizes its nighttime. The dark shadows of islands are in the distance, close enough that he can see individual trees. Soldiers line the decks, striking red confronting him like his death, and Sokka watches Zuko become rigid.

"Stowaways!"

He takes a page from Zuko's book. In one movement, he steps forward, Zuko's back against his chest, and pressing his stolen sword against Zuko's pale throat.

"If you attack, I'll kill the Fire Nation prince."

That stalls them. Zuko's neck is so taut against the blade that Sokka half-worries he'll actually slice into his skin, but survival courses through his body more loudly.

"The prince?" he hears bubbling in the air, and it's like acid to his ears. He grabs Zuko, takes a step back toward the edge of the ship.

The island. He groans internally and whispers at a volume the soldiers can't hear, "Can you swim?"

"What?"

"Can you swim." He nudges his head, and Zuko follows it, out to the island that's not close- but close enough. He can see the lights of a village. He hears Zuko sigh like his doom's upon him. It's almost comical- in a different situation, with a different person.

"Yes."

Under the stars, the sea is a black void that Sokka would do anything to stay away from. Instead he backs them up to the edge, drops the sword to the deck, and he and Zuko plunge backwards into its depths.

They swim.