Zuko stood alone before a nondescript grey door. The door to Azula's cell. Keys lay in his hands, their slight weight unbearably heavy, and Zuko stared at them, unsure of what to do. While his mind urged him to open the door, his heart refused, terrified of confronting his sister.

But Zuko shut his eyes tight and firmed his resolve. Cowardice wouldn't banish the unease which had been pooling in his stomach since he'd become Fire Lord over Azula's fire-spitting shell. Only courage would. Zuko placed the key in the rusty lock and pushed the door open, wincing as it screeched in protest.

"Why are you here?" Azula demanded. Cloth rustled as she surely twisted and turned in a vain attempt to face him; Zuko could picture her sitting there in the gloom, scowling, and he didn't answer. Instead, he walked into the room and pulled the door shut behind him. "I suppose you've come to gloat," she added bitterly, and Zuko was struck by powerful déjà vu. Four years ago, he'd said that to Azula while he'd lain underneath frantic doctors working to save his face. Her words, her tone, even her inflection were unsettlingly reminiscent of his younger self.

But then Azula shattered the disconcerting parallel. "You're Firelord now, Zuzu, while I'm locked up in an asylum. No more Agni-Kais for the throne. Admit it, you want to revel in victory."

"No, actually, I don't," Zuko replied, moving to sit in the visitor's chair. He gave his sister a once-over, taking in how pale she was in the straight jacket, how her hair was lank and stringy, still jagged and uneven, and how her eyes were no longer fiery. Oddly enough they were muted, like a fire's glow when it burns underwater. "I came to check up on you. Are they treating you well?"

"Like you care," Azula scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Please, Zuzu, save me the pretend sympathy. It's sickening."

"But I do care." Leaning forward, Zuko gazed at his younger sister, the one he'd sworn to protect when he was five and hadn't known who, or what, she would grow to become. "You're my family, and it's my responsibility to take care of you."

Azula smirked. "Right," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "Save me your pathetic attempts at lying."

"I'm serious, 'Zula." Zuko placed his hand under his sister's chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. "We do care for you. Uncle cares. Mai cares. Even Ty Lee cares."

"Stop!" Azula screeched, jerking away from him. She turned away, facing the corner for one quiet second, then spun and spat, "Uncle doesn't care; Mai doesn't care; Ty Lee doesn't care; most especially, you don't care! Don't think I can't see why you came. You just wanted to rub it in. You're the Fire Lord and best friend of the Avatar. Everyone one loves you!" She was sobbing, wailing, throwing herself against her straps by the end of her rant. Zuko started when her frantic actions brought her too close to him, and the movement seemed to remind Azula of where she was — she took a deep breath and continued spitefully, "But what about Ozai?"

Zuko twitched. "Aaaah," Azula smirked, rolling her head and fixing him with a predatory smile. "You've been to see him, then, and he's turned you away." She fixed her gaze upon him, her smouldering, unsettling gaze. "I'm sure it hurt, how Father refused to speak with you. I'm sure it stung, how there was one person left in this world who hates you. And what a pity — you never won his approval, even after all those years. And you'll never get father's love now, not after what you did, traitor." She spat the word as if it were poison.

Zuko took a deep breath. Even insane, Azula still had an unerring instinct for his weakest points. "I'm not a traitor. I didn't come for this. I came here to make sure you were okay. Do they treat you well?"

Azula's eyes flickered from side to side, and her tone changed from crazy to confiding in a heartbeat. "They're out to get me, Zuzu," she whispered. "They treat me well enough, but they're just biding their time. They're just waiting to stab me in back."

Zuko sighed. His sister was as paranoid as always. He wanted to bury his head in his hands and leave, but he had to make sure she was okay. No matter how much it hurt. "So you're okay?"

"Would you be?" Azula asked, pinning him with her amber gaze and catching him by surprise. "If you couldn't firebend, would you be okay? They feed me something here, something that keeps me from creating flames. And without my firebending, life isn't worth living."

Zuko hated to admit it, but her words struck a chord deep within him. Life without bending… he opened his palm, rolling a small flame around in his hand. Life without bending….

Suddenly, the flame in his hand turned a brilliant blue. He turned to face his sister, whose intent, hungry gaze was fixed on the dancing flame. "Fire," she murmured, never looking from the flame. "Warmth. Life. Power."

At the last word, Zuko remembered who sat before him. His father's words rang in his ears — Azula was born lucky. You were lucky to be born — and he recalled that she was a prodigy. He'd only beaten her during Sozin's comet because she'd been unstable and confused; if she focused, she would overpower him. He'd afforded her an opportunity to escape, and it wouldn't happen again. He snapped his hand shut, killing the small flame.

Azula snapped out of her trance as well. "They only pretend to love you," she hissed. "They fear you, so they pretend, just like Mai and Ty Lee did. Your so-called friends will betray you, too. Don't think you're so different from me, Zuzu. Don't think they truly trust you, truly care for you. They're not loyal; they're just liars."

Zuko shook his head. No, it is Azula who always lies. "They trust me, Azula. They care for me." Mai had betrayed Azula, as had Ty Lee; they'd risked her wrath for his sake. And Uncle had stuck with him through thick and through thin. She'd had Father and he'd had Uncle; perhaps three years ago he'd been jealous of his sister, but now he certainly wasn't. While Father had scarred him, Uncle had healed him.

"Oh, so they pity you for your scar, then?" Azula chuckled, jarring Zuko from his thoughts. "How sad. They stayed with me because I had actual power, but it seems they only stay with you because of your scar." Her expression changed once again, becoming vengeful as she spat, "A scar which Father gave you for being a failure. A scar which marks you as the banished prince. A scar which makes you weak."

"No, my scar has made me strong," Zuko retorted, his hand creeping up to his left side of his face and absent-mindedly stroking the rough, dry skin there. His scar. It'd become such a part of him that he rarely thought about it anymore. "They stay with me because they care for me, Azula. It's not pity." Years ago, he'd have blown up at that remark — he thought guiltily of Uncle — but now all it did was leave a bitter taste in his mouth. "I'm leaving," he said curtly. He spun and stalked away.

There was nothing he could do. She was long gone. How far they'd come — a few years ago, Zuko had envied his sister for her fair skin, her firebending, and her favour with Father. She'd been flawless, and he the flawed one. But now he knew better. Their roles were reversed, and as much as he longed to save her from suffering, he knew there was nothing left to save. The sweet younger sister he'd known was gone, that part of her no longer existed. It'd been eradicated years ago. But what could he do with the shell that remained? She was family, but she was dangerous.

Lost in his musings, Zuko almost missed Azula's goodbye. "Zuzu, fear is the only way," she crooned as he reached for the door. "Ursa and Uncle don't understand, but Father knew. Fear and fire…. they keep your enemies at bay… they are true power. And without them, you are nothing." There was silence, and then Azula shrieked, "Silence, Ursa! Fear and fire are the only way!"

Zuko glanced back, and was shocked to see his sister thrashing in her straitjacket, her eyes rolling wildly. "Begone!" She let out an agonized wail. "Ursa, go away!"

But, save for Azula, the room was empty.

His heart heavy, Zuko returned to the Royal Palace. While he was confused about what the future would hold, one thing had become perfectly clear about the past. Azula hadn't escaped unscathed, either, and it appeared he was actually the lucky one.

For there were two siblings.

And two scars: one physical, one mental.

For the first time in years, Zuko was grateful Ozai had only destroyed his face. After all, Ozai had destroyed Azula's mind.