"Well yeah, I guess. I still don't see why I'm here." Azula shrugged, glancing around the room lazily. It wasn't like anything had changed here in her six months; same couch, same ticking clock, same linoleum white floors with matching walls. It was so dreary; it was like a hospital for people expected to die. She wondered if that would happen to her, if she'd slowly deteriorate inside these walls of nothing. Nothingness seemed to consume her lately, even if they labeled her as psychotic before – she could feel it now.

"Well, Azula, maybe you can't physically see why, but why do you think you're here?" The woman across from her emphasized; she was new. The last one had moved to Florida, the one before that retired. She wasn't stupid. They all left, they couldn't handle her of course. So why would she bother telling her stories to this woman? Maybe she should start making things up, really make these bitches fall off their rocker.

"Because everyone else seems to have something bad to say about me." Her tone was flat, emotionless. She never pictured being broken down so much, she was sure once they let up on the medication she'd be herself. She'd set her foot down and take charge the way she always did. Until then, she was their lifeless little puppet, one who spoke when spoken to.

"Oh? Like what…who do you feel comfortable talking about?" She shifted to the end of her seat; Azula scoffed and looked down to the cold tiles below her bare feet. She wanted to hear about Ozai, the CEO who had been imprisoned. 'Oh, how did that affect you and your family life?' she would ask; everybody wanted the real gossip behind all that. She saw the woman with an anxious stare, so easy to read.

"My mo-" She stopped herself. She wasn't comfortable talking about anything she knew. Especially not to this stranger. The woman cocked her head, urging for her to continue. Azula looked to her lap and played with the end of her hospital dress.

Ursa grunted as she helplessly scrubbed the tiled floor. She always chose labor over maids, as much as her husband insisted she didn't have to do anything. She refused to become a spoiled little do-nothing wife; she would work just as hard as she did before this promotion. It angered him, she knew, but at least she had something she could feel accomplished about at the end of the day. The door opened, she remembered peering into the front room, a smile appearing on her six-year-old face.

"Daddy!" She called out, running to hug his leg. Gently, Ozai pushed his little princess away. You see, he had to settle in when he walked in the door. He couldn't transition from a work to home environment that quickly; in fact, he had some work he had to do in his office right now. Frowning, Azula pulled away and walked away. She heard him shuffle with his jacket and well-polished shoes before going into the kitchen. Hearing a mumbled conversation, she couldn't help but be curious. Wasn't every little girl supposed to be? Boys weren't, obviously. Zuko barely came out of his room unless Ozai was away. She crawled up to the side of the counter and peeked.

"Ursa, what did I tell you? I thought it was an agreement!" Ozai whispered with an angered expression. In fact, he was speaking through a clenched jaw, Azula blinked and remained silent.

"I'm not doing it. I'm not putting myself and the kids through it, I'm sorry Ozai. If it was a required move, then maybe. Zuko finally made friends at school and Azula met two of the sweetest girls that just visited yesterday. They're making a life here, a life in our home." She argued, wiping down the counters with a damp rag. Ozai grabbed her arm and turned her to look at him.

"Ursa, a bigger house, more room, more opportunities for the children. Stop being so selfish!" His voice was getting a little louder. She wanted to look away, but curiosity still had Azula wrapped around its finger. She scooted back a little on the floor, hoping they wouldn't see her.

"I'm not being selfish! This house is plenty for them, its better! I moved around my whole life and it was so hard as a child, they're comfortable here!" For once, she found herself agreeing with her mother over her father. Mai and Ty Lee were here best friends; she didn't want to have to leave them; that was what this argument was about, right? "You aren't going to impress Azulon with this; I know that's your goal! So daddy will love you more, am I right Ozai?" Ursa pressed, her mother's patience had worn thin over the weeks; it actually shocked Azula.

Not as much as Ozai raising his fist and striking Ursa. Not as much as a curled up woman, one that resembled her mother only weaker, crying. Not as much as her father not looking twice. Not as much as him not…even…caring.

"You…" Ozai started, but instead of continuing began to pace the room. He ran his fingers through his hair as he muttered to himself. Would he hit her again? Azula's thoughts broke when she caught her mother – looking right at her. Ursa, with a fresh black-eye and all, forced a smile to her only daughter. It was a fake smile, but in some twisted way it was supposed to say 'it's ok, I'm ok'. It was a lying smile.

She could help, run out; she could be the one to stop her father. She could cry or be dramatic, open his heart and eyes to make him see what he had done. Surely he would feel bad; he would never mean anything like that. She could run out and stop it all, Ozai would cradle Ursa and they'd pretend it never happened, like she was sure most families would do. He would hit her, too. That's all she thought.

She looked at her mother, who was trying to hide her tears, and ran out of the room.

Thinking back now, Azula realized that fight was never about moving. The whole argument was about control; her father always had to control everything – even her. She wondered what happened; she never bothered to ask why they never moved. Maybe she'd ask Ursa if she hadn't abandoned the family.

"Sure there's nothing you want to say? Everything's confidential." Confidential? That would have made the old Azula laugh; the soul that was restrained with this dead body. She shook her head and let the memories flood her mind.

Ty Lee sat in the stall of the ladies' bathroom, balling her eyes out. Azula sighed as she fixed her eyeliner in the mirror. Maybe she'd attempt to console her overly-dramatic friend if she hadn't been the one that upset her. Of course Ty Lee didn't know that, how warped Azula could be if she wanted to be, but something made her feel a little proud of it. After a few minutes, however, it became sickening.

"Ty Lee, come out of there." She knocked on the stall door and the girl quieted down her pathetic sobs. Azula turned to leave, assuming that meant she didn't have to deal with it, but stopped when she was spoken to.

"Azula…it's terrible." There was a 'click' that signaled the door was unlocked. Ty Lee opened the door no less than a second later, her makeup running down both sides of her face. Azula shook her head and began wiping it away with her thumb, the way a mother would. Ty Lee sniffled and faintly smiled to this. "Ev-everyone knows." She stuttered, getting herself worked up over nothing. Azula droned.

"Knows what?" She played dumb, hoping she wouldn't have to listen to rambling.

"About my parents…why they're divorcing, it's all anyone's even talking to me about! Even the guys!" She started, not so hysterical anymore. Azula nodded, washing the smudgy black makeup off her thumb in the sink. Ty Lee followed like a child seeking guidance.

"It's not that big of a deal, Ty Lee. Look at my parents." Ursa had left a year ago, Azula secretly thought of her every night.

"I know…oh, I'm so sorry, I know it's not all about me just…just who would say such things? I don't even know if they figured out we're broke now." She began to bite her nails – her disgusting nervous habit. Azula cocked an eyebrow, she hadn't known this. "I trust you but…I just won't have time for much soon after I get hired. I think I'm going to live with my aunt because my mom has my six sisters and I don't know how often I'll see them and my dad has another family, Azula! Four kids!" She cried on her friend's shoulder. Azula stared blankly ahead of her.

"…oh." She whispered; patting her friend's back. Why had she said anything? Because she was jealous. Her fucking envy got mixed in with her ego – she was tired of hearing all the bad things about her and the wonderful things about Ty Lee, especially from guys.

Maybe she was a monster.

"Azula? Azula?" She snapped, the psychologist. Azula wearily blinked up, she suddenly felt so tired. Had she been lost in thought that long? She couldn't have been; there was no way she was that on edge…right? She pushed her bangs aside, the ones that now evenly cut across her forehead, and looked up.

"Sorry, just…got lost in a daze." She explained and the woman sincerely nodded. That was her job, after all. "I don't know if I have much else to say." Not aloud, anyway.

"If you'd like, you can just think things over in here until your time is up. It's peaceful here." She leaned back in her chair, clearly disappointed. What a shame, no news gossip. At least she was kinder than the others; Azula had some respect for her, this woman.

She walked in her apartment, a little earlier but why not surprise him? Chan always did complain that she never took time out of her day for him. Even though it was a total lie, she decided she'd prove herself to him today. The key was half-turned in the lock when she heard something inside. It was people sounds, love sounds…sex sounds. She pressed her ear to the door, instinctively thinking the worst. It was like her, he would expect that of her. Maybe he just watched porn while she worked; charming? She hesitantly turned the key all the way, not so sure she wanted to be here anymore.

When she walked in she took her heels off silently. She didn't call out to let him know she was home the way she usually did, she just placed them on the oak floor and took note that he wasn't on the couch, wasn't in the kitchen, and the bathroom door was wide open so she knew he wasn't there, either. The back-straps of her heels laced between her fingers, she crept to the bedroom, the source of the sounds.

In an instant, Azula felt everything she hated – weakness, hurt, powerless, incapable, jealousy, rage, revenge, devastation, hostile, provoked, mistrust, hatred.

Paralyzed. She stood frozen in the doorway for she didn't know how long. It was probably only about two or three minutes; it felt like a lifetime. They didn't even notice, Chan and this woman, until she let out a pitiful whimper. Why was she crying? She was angry, she was ready to kill. He knew he was her first serious relationship, and this is how he handled that? In her bed? She turned on her heel and threw her shoes carelessly across the room. A vase shattered as it hit the floor and Chan ran out, stumbling once or twice as he put his boxers on. The woman didn't dare come out.

"Azula, it's not…" He stopped when she drew a knife from the holder. A sharp knife, one she eyeballed as she lightly ran her finger along its blade. She seemed so indifferent; it was like she was a different person. It scared him, how dispassionate she was. He held his hands up as she looked to him, still holding the knife in her hand.

"It's not what?" She asked in a flat tone. He bit his bottom lip and looked around the room, probably for something to defend himself with. He took one or two steps back, avoiding her gaze. "When I get back, Chan, I want you gone. You and your…little thing." She was staring directly at him, seeing right through him.

"Babe, where are you…" He stopped when the door slammed. Wherever she went, she took the knife with her.

It was down the hall, the second right and down the elevator. Luckily nobody came inside it with her; she would have been caught much sooner with a knife in hand. She went out to the garage and found her black Mercedes, placing the knife in the passenger seat. So many thoughts raced through her mind, but they all came back to the same person. No, not Chan. It was all her father. Ozai, he was the one who warped her view of men, who ruined her trust when he cut her off. He was the one that separated her from Mai and Ty Lee – that same year she'd started that Ty Lee gossip. Yes, it all came back to him and her conscience was blocked out.

She drove as quickly as she could; she hoped she'd remembered the address. Maybe she should ask Zuko, wait, why would he know? She pulled up where her father lived, at least he did the last time she saw him. She stepped out of the car with the handle clenched tightly in her palm. With each step, she felt a part of her shatter. Her ability to keep all her secrets, to keep everything to herself. With each step, it vanished, until she was left with nothing. A walking, murderous void.

"Azula!" She heard a shout in the distance. Had Chan followed her? Or maybe Ozai spotted her, why was there a crowd around her. And that ringing, what was that sound paining her ears? The flashing lights told her it was sirens, police sirens. What was going on outside the building? She couldn't find it in her to stop and find out. She kept walking, focusing on the door while all the other sounds became distant.

Two strong arms wrapped around and held her back. Her body tensed at this, but she refused to look up. She swung her arm back and began crying hysterically. She stabbed Zuko in the thigh. She figured out it was him by his complaints in her ear, still he held her close. She cried, she screamed, she kicked and swung her arms like a child taking a tantrum. It was all coming out, wasn't it? Wasn't this what everyone said she needed to do?

"Azula, stop! He's being taken into custody!" Zuko shouted and she froze up. In custody, what had he done? Why was Zuko holding her, how was he holding her? She could feel his weight leaned on one leg, was that his blood oozing down the back of hers? She watched as the police guided Ozai to the backseat of their car. She saw his hair was still neatly tied back, and he was dressed in a business suit. The shouts and protests and gasps and sirens became fuzz, static in her ears. He stared right at her, right through her.

He took a part of him with her when he looked away.

She let the knife fall from her hand, hearing only the light sound of it hitting the sidewalk. What happened? Where was he going? She felt a little relief, she hadn't killed him. Corruption in his office? It must have been.

Zuko's hold on her loosened. She fell to her knees and cried.

Security escorted her to her room. It was a middle-aged man, the one who always walked her down the hall. He asked her how her session went, as he did every day. She lied, she said it went well and she felt better. He lied too; he said she'd be out of here in no time. He opened the door to her cage and she thanked him briefly, walking into her room and taking the cup of three or four pills. She heard the door click behind her and sat on her bed, downing the whole thing in one sitting. What an accomplishment, she was a professional pill popper. Would Daddy be proud?

It wasn't until a couple weeks that she learned why Ozai had been arrested – for the murder of his father, Azulon. He had poisoned the ninety-five-year-old man; she still didn't see why it was such a big deal. It was years ago her grandfather died; in fact she had still been in high school. He was bound to die soon after, so why convict her father now? Why not let her kill him?

'We all make sacrifices…' that was the last thing her mother told her before she left Azula's junior year of high school. The year her father inherited everything Azulon worked for. When she heard about Ozai's crime, which was the day she realized Ursa had killed her grandfather. Now, she realized her father still had some life in him; enough to save his vanished wife.

She lay back on the bed and folded her hands across her stomach. Staring at the white ceiling, she thought about the same thing she did every night before she went to bed; before her pills knocked her out.

Her father was in prison, redeeming what was left of his heart; Azula was in a psychiatric ward, left with the nothingness she had become.

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.