A/N: Since I love procrastinating, I decided to rewrite 'When Lightning Strikes', which was like, the first fanfiction I have ever posted. Yay! Oh, and hi. I used to be 'Sapphire-Blue14' just in case you're going, "Who the hell is this?" But anyways, here you go. Thought I could improve things and whatever to make it more interesting.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

When Lightning Strikes

It stormed for a whole week straight. No sunshine, no rainbows, not a sliver of bright light breaking through the clouds. It was just dull and awkwardly silent in this loud kind of way. There's still light, Zuko thought. And at that moment, lightning struck from the grey sky with an ear-piercing cackle and a ground-shattering boom. There was still light.

Zuko closed his eyes gently and pressed his forehead against the cool windowpane. Even with the windows closed, he thought he could smell the rain—calming and earthy and filled with… with something he couldn't quite tell. It was almost too hard to explain.

And for what felt like a long time, Zuko stayed there, unmoving, his eyes never opening. But he was wide awake. He could hear the raindrops pattering on the roof and against his window; the winds blowing wildly outside; his father talking—or was it yelling?—at probably some poor servant. And finally, it was lightning. Crackle, crackle, it went and Zuko imagined it flashing through the sky, lighting up everything for a whole second, then disappearing.

He exhaled a long breath and drew away from the window. His legs felt numb underneath him and he almost couldn't move them. Shifting slightly, he tried to stand up, but his door, ever so slightly, creaked open. A head peeked through the crack, amber eyes wide with what seemed like fear.

"Azula?" Zuko said, surprised and confused.

"Zuko," she whispered, her voice uncharacteristically shy and small. She pushed the door open and stepped into his room. "Zuko, isn't all that noise scary?" She brushed a stray lock of her hair behind her ear and started shifting uncomfortably, her eyes focused on the floor.

"Are you talking about Dad? 'Cos I'm pretty much used to it," Zuko shrugged. But when she didn't say anything, he realised that she wasn't talking about him.

Azula sat next to him, carefully tucking her small legs underneath her. "It's not Dad, silly," she said finally. "It's the lightning and stuff. Aren't you scared of it?" She appeared agitated—shy, even—as she started fiddling with her thumbs.

"No, I'm not scared."

She sighed. "I don't know why, but it's just really, really…"

"Scary?"

"Terrifying." She paused. "Actually, I can't even think of a word that can describe how I'm feeling."

Zuko inched a bit closer. "What's so terrifying about lightning? I mean, it's just electricity shooting from the sky. Just… energy made by stuff in the clouds."

Azula shook her head vigorously, her ponytailed hair swinging behind her. "I know, but… it's dangerous. It can kill you." She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her hands into tight fists.

"It doesn't always kill you," Zuko pointed out, but she ignored him.

"And it strikes all too suddenly, too quickly for anyone to be able to escape it. Like… like it's not gonna give you the chance to run and hide or even move your arm or anything. Once it sees you and knows that it can hurt you, it just… strikes." She inhaled sharply. "Then you're damaged."

"It's just lightning," Zuko said. But he couldn't help but wonder—what was so terrifying about lightning. It didn't matter now, right? He was inside his home, or this place he called his home anyway, and there was no way lightning was going to even touch him from outside. There was no way lightning was going to harm Azula from there. So what was the big deal?

"It could be just the thunder you're afraid of—it is pretty loud."

"Lightning, Zuko. I don't care about the thunder."

"Well, you're a firebender! In a few years' time, you're going to be creating your own lightning."

A pause, then, "Well, what if I'm not one of those firebenders?"

Zuko sighed. He didn't reply. Instead he leaned against the wall, feeling the cold seep in through his shirt. He couldn't understand what was wrong with Azula. She wasn't afraid of anything! She wasn't afraid of touching fire, or their father or anyone else—what was so different now?

"Remember the day Mom left us?" Azula whispered.

"What?" he whispered back. Zuko turned to find Azula with her eyes closed. She looked so peaceful that she appeared as if she was asleep. But she wasn't.

"Mom. The day we realised she was gone."

Zuko shook his head slightly and closed his eyes. He was afraid she would bring this up, even though she didn't seem like she cared much at all. He didn't reply because his throat felt constricted and tears were about to spill from his eyes. And he didn't want Azula to think he was weak. His father already thought he was unworthy and pathetic, and it hurt.

"It was three months ago, you know," Azula continued.

I know, Azula, Zuko thought, but he still couldn't bring himself to say a word.

"Do you miss her, Zuko?"

Of course I miss her.

"She never said goodbye to us, though."

Like you even care.

"Zuko?"

Zuko looked up and scowled at her, giving her the iciest look he had ever given her. "Look, Azula, I get it, okay? So would you just shut up? Spirits, I miss her! But you don't even care, do you? You never care, Azula! You just…" Zuko turned away and breathed in. His cheeks were now wet with tears and they won't stop. "Just don't," he muttered and wiped his face hurriedly.

"Zuko, I—"

"Get out."

"I didn't mean—"

"What the hell, didn't you hear me? Get out!" By now he was sobbing, releasing everything he was feeling. He didn't even notice Azula slip past him and exit the room as he curled against the wall, letting tears run down his face. He sobbed until his throat felt raw and his eyes were red and puffy. He sobbed until there were no tears left.

Zuko stayed in his room for hours. His father hadn't even bothered to check up on him or invite him to dinner. But it was all typical. Both of them didn't care that he was starving or completely heartbroken. They were selfish, Zuko thought resentfully.

He was lying on his bed for a long time, unmoving. It was almost pitch black in his room, but his eyes had already adjusted—he could make out the faint outline of his large window and the mirror in the corner and the chair and the dresser. Then, very faintly, his door creaked open for the second time that day. And, just as he had predicted, Azula stepped in and closed the door behind her. "Where's your lamp?" she murmured.

Zuko didn't say anything and pretended to be asleep. He didn't want to deal with her anymore.

"Well, where is it, Zuzu?" she said impatiently. "I can't see in here and… hey, is that… Oh, I think that's your dresser and…"

Zuko sighed and turned on his lamp. Azula was in front of him, looking a bit lost. Then, she stood up straighter and smiled so faintly you could barely see it. "Oh, hey."

"Hey yourself," Zuko murmured and looked away.

"You must be hungry."

"I'm okay."

"You look pale."

"Hm…"

"Very pale."

"Alright then."

"Talk to me."

"I am talking to you."

"No, like, seriously."

"Okay."

There was a pause. Then Azula started shifting uneasily. "Hey, um… I'm sorry about earlier."

Zuko snorted quietly, but he knew she heard him.

"Would you listen?"

"Unfortunately, I have to."

Azula slowly moved over to sit on the edge of his bed. "Zuko, I didn't mean it. I was… I just wanted to tell you that the day after she was… you know, gone, it stormed."

"And that's why you're afraid of lightning?"

"I… I don't know really. But it does make me feel sad. I think more sad than scared." She sighed. "I'm sorry. Actually, I'm sorry for everything. I'd been so mean to you and… Zuko, you do know that I care about you?"

Zuko didn't respond. Was she lying again? Or was she really sincere?

"Zuko?"

Zuko shook his head lightly. "Azula… what do you want?"

"Nothing. I just came to say sorry." He looked up to find her frowning, her hair in a messy, careless bun. But the thing was, she was never careless.

And Zuko knew how she frowned when she pretended to be innocent. But this was different— maybe she wasn't actually pretending. Maybe she was telling the truth.

He inhaled, then exhaled quietly, averting his sister's gaze. "I'm sorry," she muttered.

She said sorry, Zuko, he thought. She always said sorry. But they never really meant anything.

Does it mean anything now?

"I'm sorry too."

Azula was well aware of her brother watching her from outside her room. Or prison cell, she thought bitterly. It appeared worse than the old, rotting cells underneath the Fire Nation palace and it annoyed her. It angered her. How dare they treat her like some criminal?

The walls were brightly and blindingly white and it was painful to even just glance at it. The floor was carpeted, but it was hard and stained and dirty. Her 'room' wasn't even spacious—just a small, wretched box with a dresser, a chair, a bed and a small bookshelf with only three blank, leather-bound books. She didn't even know what she was supposed to do with them—she didn't have a single quill to write with or a bottle of ink. They were basically useless.

Just like everyone else.

"Just like everyone else," Azula murmured to herself. She gritted her teeth and dug her long, chipped fingernails into her crisp, white sheets. If only she had a knife or the key to the door.

They deserve to suffer, don't they?

"They do," Azula whispered, squeezing her eyes shut.

From outside, Zuko watched as her anger built up all over again. It was always like this—she would calm down, then a minute later, she becomes all angry again. He just couldn't understand. My sister's in a mental institution, my father's in prison and my mother's missing, he thought. He always knew there was something wrong with his family, but it hurt more when he thought about it that way.

He pressed a hand against the cold metal door and for a moment, he thought about unlocking it and letting himself in so he could talk to his sister. But then he stopped himself. Why, Zuko? Because you're too scared? Zuko shook his head and shut his eyes for a brief moment.

Maybe this wasn't not the right time.

Then when's the right time?

Zuko ran his fingers through his dark hair. He didn't know what to do! He wasn't scared of his sister. Of course he wasn't. But at the same time, it didn't feel right.

Zuko looked down and touched the door with the toe of his shoe. You can let yourself in now. He held in his breath for a long moment. "No, I can't," he murmured quietly, then let his hand fall down his side.

"Once it sees you and knows that it can hurt you, it just… strikes. Then you're damaged." Azula once said.

Straightening himself, Zuko decided that it wasn't the right time. There's still more time, he reasoned. Azula can wait. But for now, she needed to realise something. "Looks like I wasn't the only one struck by lightning," Zuko muttered, just loud enough for his sister to hear. Then he walked away, his footsteps echoing throughout the hallway, fading as he drew further away.

Azula clenched her fists and leaned her head against the cold wall. A tear slipped from her eye, then another. She promised herself never to cry for anything like this. But he was right. And for the first time she knew that she had betrayed her brother.

"Lightning struck," she whispered, "and we both didn't see it coming."