AN: So, I've been watching the ATLA Fanfom for a while now and decided that I sould finally contribute so here is my first ATLA fic. It was written more as an experiment to sort of dip my feet in the fandom. It is a series of one shots with a mostly general plot and the first several will be in chronological order. It's a modern AU based off of a what-if of a multi chaptered modern AU I'm writing. I know the characters are slightly OOC. Keep in mind that they are in very different situations than they were in ATLA and some have had to go through some really rough stuff they didn't have to in the series so I tried to keep there characters as canon as possible while also staying realistic. You'll get the rest once you start reading. Enjoy! And feedback is always appreciated.

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar.

Friday. 2300. Chicago, Illinois.

Zuko sat quietly on the windowsill, legs drawn up loosely, eyes staring blankly out at the storm-gray sky.

"…accident…hospital…critical…might not wake up…"

Zuko continued to stare, whispers washing over him from afar, but he was too numb to feel their sting, too hurt and broken to feel anything but empty.

"…needs care…here is close…nowhere else…"

The rain continued to pour, falling from the sky as if to vent all the pain and sorrow Zuko kept inside. He couldn't cry. He wouldn't. That would make it hurt. That would make it real.

"Of course we'll take him. He'll be safe here…"

What a lie. Nowhere was safe.

Footsteps approached quietly. A light hand was laid on his shoulder. He was too numb to remember to shrug it off.

"The orphanage has agreed to keep you here for some time, until anything changes." The voice was soft, kind, and motherly. He didn't deserve it. It was his fault.

"We'll send a man over with your things. You can visit the hospital, but only when your caretakers take you. No running off, no funny business, and stay out of trouble." The voice was sterner, but he could hardly care. It didn't matter. None of this mattered. He didn't matter.

"Take care, okay?"

He made no response. The hand stayed there for a moment more before sliding off. Footsteps retreated. There were a few more murmurs and the door closed.

Zuko stayed there far into the night.