atla oneshots

fall in [zukka]

Zuko wasn't able to sleep.

There was little time before their attack on his father and Aang still didn't feel ready. Despite what he told the others, despite what he told Zuko himself, he knew that he wasn't ready. He could see it in his eyes, irises that were usually so bright and hopeful were now dulled with the weight of doubt.

His cerulean gaze bored into the ambers of the low burning fire before him, the others lay off to the side on their sleeping rolls while Momo and Appa snuggled close. Before, he wouldn't of hesitated to tie them up and take them as prisoners, his old self was truly screaming at him — so much time wasted on something that would never come to pass.

He thought about that a lot, about how the people he had dedicated his life to hunting down, were now sleeping peacefully right next to him: an enemy. It was almost enough for the corner's of his lips to twitch upwards. Maybe.

He had never believed his uncle before all of this, before ba sing se, before things had gotten so complicated along the road that had little to do with his anger towards the avatar, and everything to do with the confusing and all-to-real onslaught of feelings he felt towards a certain group member.

His gaze shifted to the child monk, who was fast asleep in his bedroll. Maybe this could work, maybe he truly could beat his father when it came down to it. Ozai had trained his entire life, had spent years having his path carved out for him and the same fate that had befallen his sister Azula, had almost taken over him too.

"That's what I admire about you Zuko," His mother said, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear after his nothing short of embarrassing show. Something that was supposed to make his father proud.

He looked up at her, eyes wide, brimming with the unshed tears of a boy who couldn't fathom why his father didn't love him.

"You always keep going, even through the hard stuff."

He'd thought back then, that his mother would keep him safe. She certainly served as a barrier between him and his other family members, including his father. He didn't dare talk over her or belittle her, despite his cruel and harsh ways. He was almost out of reach with his mother at his side.

Until he wasn't.

To this day, he still didn't know where his mother was. He didn't know if she was dead or alive, or being tortured somewhere. If it was somewhere bad though, someone would have to pay the price, and it would be his father by his hand.

"Hey." A soft yet deep voice whispered into the silent air, nearly causing him to jump off the log he was currently perched upon. He tensed, lips forming into a tight line as the dark skinned male slid onto the log across from him, staring at him from the other side of the flames.

"Shit. Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you." He rubbed along the back of his neck, clearly sheepish.

"You didn't." The prince responded curtly, in hopes that he would be left alone.

The flames cast shadows along one side of Sokka's face, Zuko could almost conjure an image of what he'd look like with a scar that matched his own. It almost made him laugh but he withheld, not wanting explain his dark humour to someone who wouldn't understand.

"I just wanted to say..." He trailed off, eyes following his voice as they swept their gaze elsewhere, his teeth toyed at the dried parts of his lips and his hand continued to rub the back of his neck as though it were soothing to him. Maybe it was. "I'm sorry, for giving you a hard time back there."

Zuko scoffed. "I deserved it."

Sokka exhaled at that, in a frustrated manner and shook his head gently. "You didn't. It's just going to take some getting used to. That's all."

For whatever reason, he had decided to go to sleep with his hair loose and it took all of Zuko's willpower not to look at the way it framed his face or broad shoulders.

"Maybe." He muttered, focusing his gaze on the dying flames, he could reignite them if he wanted to, but he felt hot enough as it was — uncomfortably so to the point where he wanted to run away into his bedroll if only to stop the sickeningly sweet way his skin crawled.

"My sister will warm up to you." He scoffed at that, as though it were a reflex or natural instinct kicking in. He hadn't meant to but he truly didn't know if he believed that, she had responded to everything he said and every comment made about him in a curt tone, and barely made eye contact when they did speak. She hated him, and for good reason.

"Katara doesn't hate anyone," Zuko blinked, the lines at the edge of Sokka's face told him that he'd said it out loud, in a mumble or otherwise. "It's not in her, she'll come around. You'll see."

The fire prince felt the ache in his arm blossom, the adrenaline from their fight had been ebbing away and was now left with a dull ache that served as a memory.

"Why can't you sleep?" Zuko asked, anything to take his mind off of it. Anything. "Aren't you always sleeping?"

"Hey, I'm not always asleep," Sokka huffed, a defensive tone curling around his words and squeezing gently. "Plus. How do you think all of this happens?" He gestured to himself awkwardly, the prince shook his head.

Still, he did wonder how all of that did happen.

"I'm just thinking about the upcoming battle," Sokka admitted, running his fingers along the edges of the log, Zuko followed them. "We've lost so much already you know? I don't know.. I'm not sure if I can take another hit." A forlorn look crossed his features, and for a moment Sokka's gaze turned upward and Zuko's followed.

The moon shone back.

"My father wants nothing more than to see both me and the Avatar fall," The blue eyed man whispered, softly into the night. "Aang will not fail."

"I didn't just mean Aang. You're apart of this too, you know? Part of the group... in which I care about." Sokka opted for rubbing along the back of his neck once more, and Zuko felt his eyes flicker upwards to meet the other man's.

"Yeah?"

Sokka nodded. "Yeah."