Disclaimer: This is me, still not owning Avatar: The Last Airbender. Or Max Ride. They belong to Bryke and James Patterson respectively. I do, however, own the rights to this story.

Author's Notes: Lots of thanks should go to Angsty Anime Star, Menamebephil, Dragon Firebender84, Togira Ikonka, moonlightbutterflye, Katkid, Sokka's Fan-Lawyer, AvatarAiris, Kiminator Mark XII, Miyiku (my astounding Spanish beta), safarigirl83, vine, and Leathe for reviewing last chapter. Whoo-hoo! The peanut butter to mah jelleh. So, as a reward (and a punishment for me), here is your next update. Enjoy.

The Angel Experiment

"Do you think we could've been friends back then?"

-Aang to Zuko, "The Blue Spirit"

Zuko seriously had to fight the urge to go and wrap his arms around the old man. To tremble and break down and call to him, "Uncle, I'm sorry," or to start crying right then and there. It was a battle, but he won.

He had been fighting his emotions since he was old enough to toddle around and say the word "experiment." What was one more day?

The man's grandfatherly gaze flickered to him for a moment, but if he recognized the boy, he showed no signs of it. "This is the boy that saved you, you say?" He was directing his look at Song, and in that moment, Zuko relaxed a little. At least he wasn't looking at him anymore.

Song nodded. "Yes. He practically took a shot for me." She glanced at him shyly, cheeks turning slightly pink. Zuko blinked slowly. What in the world… why was her face turning all red like that?

Hmm. No accounting for girls, he guessed.

"Well then." The elder folded his paper and stood to greet the newcomer. Zuko automatically tensed and twitched away slightly when he offered his hand. A cocked eyebrow. "Generally, when someone offers to shake, you shake." An amused grin caught the old man's lips in a smile.

Zuko shook his dark head. Idiot. "I'm sorry, but I'm not good with strangers." He hesitated for another millisecond but took his hand. "So um, do you have a name?" He really didn't want to be calling this guy "Grandfather" for the rest of his life. Way too weird.

He nodded, and Song moved away to pick up his discarded teacup. "You may call me Iroh."

Zuko was pensive. Iroh. It wasn't too hard to remember, yet not one of those generic names. Not like Lee; there were a million Lees. "And I'm…" Ho crap. Once again, his mouth decided to open without his brain's permission. Should he really be doing this? Yes, he felt comfortable with the old man and his lit-up house and his pretty adopted granddaughter, but… should he trust him? So soon? He didn't think so…

Except his Eraser-fied sister slash sorta-friend slash ex-girlfriend (?) were after him, he was completely lost in this God-forsaken woods conveniently located in the middle of nowhere, and the only people who had ever helped him out were either a million miles away by now or completely hated his guts. Could his day really get any worse?

"…I'm Zuko," he finished finally. A hand glided across his chest, and his tags felt cold against his too-warm skin (almost forgot about those, he did). "Just… Zuko."

--

The coffee in his mug was cold.

It always was, always had been since the beginning of time. But to Hakoda, it was tasting extra bitter today.

The man sighed painfully and set his mug on the table, running thick fingers through his hair. He felt haggard and worn, at least eighty years older than he really was. He was sure his premature aging showed on his face, too. He was such an idiot… he had made a stupid mistake. Did I really expect her to just forgive me after I practically betrayed them?

Dark blue eyes were hazy, scanning the room yet focusing on nothing. I shouldn't have. He was the children's father figure—heck, to two of them, he was their biological father. He had fed them and taken care of them and taught them how to fight. But he had to return. They were looking for him, looking for them. He knew he couldn't stay… but if he came back, if he came back, then he would be on the inside, and the scraggly little flock might have a chance to survive in the real world.

The Whitecoat's hand clenched into a tightened fist. His children might hate him for it, but this was the only way to keep everyone safe. God only knew they needed at least one friendly face in this lovely pit of hell.

--

It was obvious from the look on Aang's face that he was upset. He sat in the back of the small cave, his head just barely touching the low ceiling. The boy's knees were pulled up to his chest, and both of his hands were curled around his legs protectively. Sokka sighed and sat down heavily on the sand floor and tried to apologize.

"Sorry, Aang… but that's what Zuko wanted. He needed to go help that girl out for some—" he threw his hands in the air, "—stupid reason. Ugh. I say good riddance to him."

Toph planted both feet firmly on the ground, arms crossed over her chest angrily. She glared at Sokka, which would've been twice as effective if she hadn't been staring over the top of his head. But still, her words were chilly when she spoke. "Snoozles, you of all people should know not to judge someone's worth by what they look like."

Sokka looked away. He didn't need a little blind girl telling him what to do.

Aang stood up and strode to the mouth of the cavern. "I think we made a mistake," he said softly. "We shouldn't have left him like that."

The eldest's dark blue eyes narrowed. "God only knows he deserves it. He's a mindless, ignorant jerk with nothing better to do than sit around and make people's lives miserable."

Aang looked stricken. He was always so used to seeing the good in people; why couldn't Sokka understand Zuko's potential? "So what, then? He did one bad thing to you, and all of a sudden, you're completely against asking him for help?"

"I already did ask him for help. I thought I could trust him. But instead of our working as a team, he decided to go his own way and do his own thing…" He immediately stopped when he saw the look on Toph's face. He had never seen her so… un-Toph like. Her mouth was set in a grim line somewhere between anger and disbelief.

"So that's what this is all about." She turned away from him, her face the personification of disgust. "We're lost, no guide and still no Katara because you're too much of a dillweed to admit when you're wrong?"Toph shook her head in anger and mute disbelief and sidled up to Aang. "We need that stupid pyro, even if he is a jerk and a moron. But you—" she shoved a finger in Sokka's face, "—are an even BIGGER jerk and a moron for not shutting your big mouth and getting the picture. If we want to save Katara, then we. Need. Zuko." She poked him heartily in the chest after every word. As if she needed to emphasize her point any more.

Sokka batted her hand away. "Zuko was an idiot, and we don't need him. We can find Katara on our own. End of story."

The younger boy's face was pleadingly desperate. "But Sokka—"

"End of story."

Toph had a funny look on her face—the same funny look that told everyone to get the heck out of there and start running in the other direction lest they be part of the next natural disaster. She was fast, too fast for Sokka, and grabbed his collar before he could bat an eye. "Get over yourself already!" She was livid, jaw set sternly… And, Sokka had to admit, he was terrified. When she finally, finally (sigh of relief) dropped him, his knees turned to jelly and his mouth gaped like a fish out of water. That was so… unexpected.

The girl cursed at him, shook her head, and walked off, brushing by Aang as she passed by. There were large cracks in the earth at her wake.

Aang sniffed and moved to the edge of the cave, curling up into a ball and scooting as far away from Sokka as possible. Toph just shook her head slowly, like she couldn't believe she was living this. Then she settled down in the sand beside Aang, her back facing the wall; they wouldn't even look at him. Sokka's anger evaporated in an instant, and he sighed, retreating to the back of the cave with his trusty backpack—the only thing that didn't hate him right now.

When Dad had left, he had made a promise to himself to take care of the others, no matter how much it cost, and no matter how much they might hate him at the time. But right now, with the sky growing darker and rumbles of thunder off in the distance, all he could do was stare at Toph's head and watch as Aang's shoulders shook softly.

He wanted to think that he was doing the right thing, but all he felt like was a great big jerk.

--

Katara cried.

She tried to listen to Sokka (that annoying voice in her head), she tried to be strong for herself and for everyone else, but she just couldn't. Seeing him again, seeing her dad again… hearing him speak to her like that… it made her want to be sick. She thought she loved him, and she did, but—

She couldn't stand to see him like this. Making these decisions that only served to hurt others. To hurt her. (Why did he want to hurt her? She was his daughter. He loved her.)

She cried. Not for herself, but for the confused man who called himself Daddy.

--

True to his (or rather Song's) word, Iroh was indeed a veterinarian. The elder guided Zuko back to the bathroom to get a better look at his wounds. How fitting, the pyro couldn't help but think. A vet checking me out. Haha… of course he couldn't be a normal doctor.

Zuko hissed when he felt roughened fingers brushing against his wound. That definitely hurt more than it was supposed to. Iroh's voice was comforting as he murmured, "Let me get a better look."

The breath caught in his throat. No. If Iroh… then there was no turning back. Not now. Zuko tried to form words and get them to explain his situation. "Um, actually… well, there's this thing I have, this disease or parasite or something on my back, and just to warn you—"

"My boy," the good man chuckled, "I have seen many things in my life; I am sure I can handle whatever it is you have. As long as you are not dying," he joked.

Zuko's rebuttal died into another hiss as Iroh pulled the shirt over his head. Blood was caked around the entrance hole, but thanks to a well-placed handkerchief courtesy of Song, the bleeding had slowed and nearly stopped. Zuko sat on the edge of the tub, every hair standing on end; he could feel the tension literally crackling in the air, and his body tensed against his will. Just one wrong word, one wrong touch, and he would be out of here like a bullet out of a gun. He tried to remember the way out of the house. Down the hallway, turn right, through the kitchen, out the—

Iroh remained silent. He spoke not a word of anything.

Zuko knew he saw them. Honestly, nineteen-foot wings were GROWING OUT OF HIS BACK. They were kind of hard (impossible) to miss.

The elder scraped some of the caked blood off the teen's shoulder and set a cooling rag against his skin. "You are awfully hot," he noted. "Good thing, I suppose. The raised body temperature will aid in fighting off the impending infection. You're very lucky, dear boy, to have gotten this looked at."

Involuntarily, Zuko's body sagged as the tension slowly drained away. He choked, "Yeah… I guess I kinda am."

Twenty minutes later, and the deed was done. Iroh had cleaned the wound with some disinfectant, sewn it up, and wrapped a bandage over it to keep it closed. "Do not over-exert yourself too much," the old man had scolded. "I can see it in your eyes that you definitely do not know when to stop."

Well, yeah, that was true.

But now, Zuko was turning around to put his shirt back on, but before he could, Iroh grabbed it. "You can't wear this dirty old thing. Let me get you a new one; one of mine, perhaps."

That's what they used to do. When he had accidentally burned himself, the men—the good guys—had given him medicine and some new clothes. Zuko nodded. He tried to stretch his wing (well, come on, it was kind of late now, anyway). The teen winced when he felt a sharp pain through his left one. "Guess I won't be using these anytime soon," he joked sardonically.

Iroh simply nodded, Zuko's dirty shirt balled between his hands. He was twisting it; a common nervous habit in some people…

There.

Right there. Zuko caught the spark of recognition in his eyes. The old man's features were struggling to cover up… something that was waging a war inside him. Zuko made the first step, tentative, awkward, but it was toward Iroh. The old man accepted it.

In a flash, the two embraced, Zuko shaking like some sort of weak child and Iroh clutching him for dear life. "Dear boy… Zuko… I missed you."

Zuko gave in. Shaking hands grasped the old man's jacket. He could feel his shoulder becoming wet. Zuko was so surprised when he finally heard himself speak; he didn't think his voice would be so full. "I've missed you too. Uncle."

--

Sometimes, through instances of extreme emotion, physical and emotional pain, or stressful situations, certain things may occur. Switches may be activated, and things can come spilling out. Things that weren't supposed to make themselves known until later in life.

This was what Aang was experiencing as he glided through the chilly nighttime air. He just needed to FLY—to escape and get away from it all. He wanted to go back and help Zuko, but he was a free man at heart. He loved the appeal of the open sky and the liberty it offered him. There was nothing he could do for his friend right now—heck, he didn't even know where he was, much less be able to help him—and he needed to get his mind away from the failure.

His wings beat against gravity, pulling him up, up and forward. He kept going, adrenaline pumping through him. The wind rushed, whistling in his ears, and he could feel his blood pulsing against his fingertips. Yes. But… but no. He was going too fast. Too much, too fast. The ground and the stars were passing too quickly; they were blurring together into muddled streaks against velvet. How was this possible?

Aang panicked. This wasn't supposed to happen this way.

He stopped, glided, and didn't pause until he could feel his heart unsettle itself from his throat. He swallowed. All he managed to choke was a startled, "Wow. Didn't see that coming." And then maybe as an afterthought, "Wait until the guys hear about this."

Looks like nobody would be beating him in any races anytime soon. Heh heh.

Post Author's Notes: Yay discovery! Looks like Aang's got some nifty new powers, and Katara and Zuko are both on the brink of discovering theirs.

Now I don't know about you, but I'm getting bored of this same old same old "Fly a few days, camp out" setup. I think it's time we get some real kick-butt action going, don't you?

Let me introduce to you the Dangerous Ladies. Have fun, everyone, and play nice for your author.