AN: After Zuko was rescued. Is currently outside the tent, about to visit uncle.

His shoulders jerked as the waterbender, Katara placed a hand on his shoulder. Please stop jerking, shoulders. He can see the hurt look in her eyes, as much as she tries to hide it. But what would he apologise for? Zuko sinks to the ground, willing the images that flash across his face to go away. This is Katara. Your friend.

"Hey, are you alright?" He tuck his hands between his legs.

"I-i havent met him in so long. I dont know what to do, or say." She gives a knowing smile.

"You know, the same thing happened with my dad and i. I was only six when he left, the only thing i had remembered about him was his smile and hair beads that i used to play with as a kid. But at boiling rock i could recognise him just fine, because i had a special connection with him that time couldnt tear apart. I think it's the same thing for your Uncle. You'll do fine, just be yourself."

He also happened to remember Azula vividly as well. He didnt think he had a special connection with her. But he could see her point, making him feel just a little bit better. He thanked her and slipped into the tent, anxiety building up. The butterflies in his stomach paused as he realised that the old man was snoring, loudly. He tucked that thought into his mind, General Iroh, The Dragon of The West, snores like an elephant hyena. Panic rose back up in full strength as he saw him stir. Lift the blankets off. Turned his head, slowly…

HIs head was now facing him. Yes, of cource he would reject him, he was a failure for Agnis sake, he disappeared for eight years, he probably forgot who he was. He wasn't even a fireb- squished. He was squished. His mind stood at a blank for a second, before registering his was enveloped in a bear hug. By his Uncle. Distantly, he felt his hand shaking. Uncle used to give these hugs to him when he was young. A three year old Zuko had a nightmare, padding into Uncles room, having the light flicked on and gathered on his lap in a soothing embrace. His sister firebent at him,the smell of scorched skin slipping through his nose, screams dying to whimpers as Azula skipped off. Uncle was there, holding him as he spread healing balm on his arm. And every time he wrapped his arms around him and let his heart out before him, never to be turned away. He remembered the day he lost his left eye, veins popping, his hands clawing at his face, please stop, he was so sorry, yet her claws curled deeper, before his face felt numb. It still does. The days of endless nightmares, a maze of running, a woman in a cloak with the eyes of ice, gripping his blood, dragging him back to her cave. Sunlight, he needed the light, his skin grew pale, he felt weak. He had tried running. But thats why his face was like this now. Thats why the villigers bones snapped and cracked, their screams trapping him in the dark. It was why he couldn't remember how old he was or how to firebend. He was a burden to them, they were so capable, powerful. Like Hama. But all that didn't matter. He found Uncle.

He never cried, Hama feasted on weakness, but he felt safe, familiar. Zuko missed him and he didnt know until now. So he tightened his arms around Uncle, and cried.