A/N: So this is the result of finding the quote 'why they call it falling' and writing two other stories that had happy, mushy endings. I evidently cannot write more than two happy stories at a time before I have to write an angst-fest. Like this. Hope you all like it, though!

It had been a week since Zuko and Iroh last stepped into the Avatar's camp, as the two had been elected to go to the nearby fishing town to buy supplies, but the moment they set foot within the small grove of trees they could tell something was wrong. It was too silent; no chattering from Momo or laughing of Aang. It was too dark; no fire going even though the sun was beginning to set behind him. It was too cold; a crisp breeze seemed to be filling the group of trees, though no branches moved and not a leaf rustled.

Zuko was on edge instantly.

"Hello?" Iroh called out, continuing to walk into the camp. There was no sign of a fight or struggle and, as Appa was still asleep in the middle of all of the tents, he assumed that everyone was still there.

"Uncle!" Zuko hissed, following him deeper into the camp. "Be quiet! We don't know what's going on here!"

No sooner had the exhiled prince spoken then one of the tents rustled and Katara flung herself at them. Dirt covered arms flung themselves around Iroh and she burried her face in his shoulder. As such, her words came out muffled. "Thank the Spirits you're both all right! You didn't come back as quick as we thought you would and I thought you'd been caught!"

"Caught? What are you talking about, child?" Iroh asked. He put a hand on either of Katara's shoulders and gently tugged her of of him so that he could see her face. "Have we missed that much while we were away?"

Katara sniffed. In the waning light of the sun, Zuko and Iroh could just barely make out the scratches on her face and the red around her eyes; she'd been crying a lot recently, it was easy to see. "Fire Nation soldiers attacked while you were gone. There were so many of them and one of them burnt Toph's feet and - you bought bandages didn't you?"

Iroh nodded and, suddenly, Katara was tugging him into the tent that she'd just come out of. Zuko followed the two, expecting to find the Earth-Bender with her feet on ice. Instead, he was met by a sight he'd never seen before. One that, strangely enough, he'd never even pictured could happen.

At the back of the tent, propped up against a pile of the groups bags, was Sokka.

The Water Tribe boy's clothes were stained heavily with red and brown and strips of fabric, red and blue and tan, had been wrapped around his arms. Both legs also bore the make-shift bandages. What looked like a damp cloth, a bundle of blue fabric, had been tied over his eyes and his forhead. The little bit of skin that was still visible was a pasty color that should not have been seen on the dark-skinned boy.

Both Iroh and Zuko came to a stop at the door of the tent. The smell of singed skin filled the air. Katara continued in and over to her brother. She sat down carefully on the ground next to him, both hands curling themselves into the stained fabric of her dress. "Sokka? Are you up?"

"Up?" Zuko asked, not bothering to even try and hide the surprise in his voice. "He's conscious?"

"Mhmm...Bout time you're back, Zuko." Sokka muttered, voice low and hoarce. "Had 'Tara worried."

"What happened to him, Katara?" Iroh asked. He crossed the tent quickly, already rooting through the pack he was carrying in search of the small box of medicine that they had bought. "Why haven't you healed him yet?"

Katara let out an odd strangled sounding noise and closed both eyes. "I tried...I can't - his wounds won't close up. I think there are too many. My water doesn't know where to start at. I was hoping if I could get some medicine on him and start them healing that way then I could just finish the job."

Having finally found the medicine box, Iroh nodded. "That might work."

"Did you look at Toph yet?" Sokka asked. "Her feet're botherin' her."

Zuko found himself gaping, mouth open and everything, at the other boy. Was he really serious? Toph's feet had been burnt, yes, but he looked like he was about to die at any moment!

From the look on Katara's face, it was clear that she was thinking the same thing. Her mouth stayed in a thin line though. "Sokka. We've already been through this. You're hurt way more than any of us are."

"Do they know how bad off Aang is yet?" Sokka asked. And it was eerie in a way because, though he was speaking, his body didn't move at all. Not even a tilt of the head. "Cause he got hit really hard. You should go check on him first, Iroh."

Silence in the tent.

"I think' Iroh started. 'that I should take a look at your wounds first, Sokka."

"And I think' Sokka countered, fierceness suddenly joining in with the rough quality of his voice. 'that Aang is more a priority. He's the Avatar. You let 'im die because you were too busy with a nobody like me and the world's fate is on you."

The look on Iroh's face would have been comical had it not been so serious a situation. Just pure disbelief and shock; because Sokka had never called himself a 'nobody' before, always insisting that they wouldn't get around without him, that he was the core of the group.

Zuko found it impossible to believe that, suddenly, Sokka thought otherwise. But he found it even more impossible that Katara was just letting it be said: she'd dropped her head and closed her eyes, a silent signal of defeat.

"Come on, Iroh." She muttered, pushing herself up off the ground and still not looking at her brother. "I'll show you where Aang and Toph are."

And then she was gone, slipping from the tent without another word. Defeated. Accepting. Like she'd heard it all before; and she had, over and over again these last few days, ever since Sokka realized what had happened during the fight. Iroh was only there for a moment longer before he too slipped from the tent.

Zuko could have gone with them. He probably should have, just to see how hurt Aang was. But he found that he couldn't. His eyes were still glued to Sokka's unmoving form, raking over the make-shift bandages and trying to figure out what could be beneath them. He didn't think that Sokka would say anything to him and, when the voice filled the tent, it startled him.

"Sit down?" Sokka asked, and his voice had gone from being fierce to sounding almost pleading.

The former Prince nodded slightly and walked over to join the Water Tribe boy. He tucked his legs under him and sat down, hands resting on his legs, just a few feet from where Sokka sat. "What happened?"

"Fire Nation." Sokka hissed. "They hit us and they hit us hard."

"I mean,' Zuko clarified. 'to you."

There was silence for a long while before Sokka spoke but Zuko was content to just sit there and wait. He would not easily be swayed from finding out exactly what had put the normally strong boy in such a weak state. Eventually, Sokka gave in and told him.

Told him how there were more soldiers there then they had ever seen at one time before. How Toph was out first, unable to even run away after her feet had been burnt. Then it had been Aang, struck in the back of the head. He and Katara were out numbered. So he had his sister grab Aang and run; as fast and as far away as she could. Had her hide him and then come back and do the same with Toph, who had left kicking and screaming, and make sure they were both safe before she came back. Sokka had wanted her to hide too, but she refused.

The slightly younger boy explained how, out numbered and out powered, he had taken the brunt of the assault while Katara was hiding the others. In less words, he told of the burnt and shredded skin that lay beneath the bandages and the long swollen gash that rested on his head. He couldn't tell Zuko how they managed to fight them all off: he didn't really know himself, just that somehow the two Water Tribers had managed to scare them all into a retreat.

And when he was done, he lifted one battered and wrapped hand and rested it as close to Zuko's leg as he could get it. The movement, though small and brief, sent waves of pain shooting through his body and he gritted his teeth as he waited for it to sub-side.

Zuko was left speechless.

Sokka, he knew, had always been good at withstanding pain. Taking a beating and being left sore from it was something that the other boy was used to. Seeing him in clear pain, not bothering to hide it or make it seem less then it was, caused the strangest of feelings to well up in his chest; worry for someone he'd never considered more than an ally.

"Zuko?" Sokka asked. "Can you do something for me?"

And, despite the tightness in his chest and the fact that the answer really should have been 'yes', Zuko hesitated. "Maybe. What is it?"

"Take over." Sokka stated.

"What?" Zuko questioned.

"Watching them. Feeding them. Make sure they all stay safe." Sokka explained. "You've gotta take over 'nd do what I used to do."

"Why,' Zuko asked, forming each word carefully because he was honestly lost in the situation at hand. It seemed almost surreal; to have Sokka, who was always laughing off the bruises and cuts, in a state like this. So he dealt with it how he always dealt with things: sarcasm. 'would I have to do that? Afraid that now you've lost once you'll keep loosing?"

The Water Tribe boy let out a harsh breath through his nose. "I need you to do it because I can't anymore and they can't do it on their own. None of them can hunt. None of them can kill. None of them can plan things out in advance to save their lives. And they don't have a clue as to how they should be making money." A harsh laugh. "They'll end up starving before they even get to the Fire Nation!"

"You talk like you're not going to be around here anymore." Zuko frowned, narrowing his eyes just slightly. "Get over it, Sokka. We all get hurt. I'm sure they aren't so incompetant that they can't handle themselves the week it takes you to get back on your feet."

Another bout of silence. Then Sokka tilted his head to the side and gave a horrible smile; the type that so many a soldier in Zuko's father's court had given their family before they left for a war that they knew they would never return from. "I can't feel either of my legs."

"You what?" Zuko demanded, because he wasn't sure what to make of that statement.

"I can't feel either of my legs." Sokka repeated. "And I haven't been able to in four days. I'm pretty sure they're useless now. Katara couldn't - They can only go so long without proper blood-flow and with so much nerve damage before they never work properly again."

"How would you know that?" Zuko snarled. "You aren't anywhere near being a doctor! They're probably fine!"

He didn't know why this was getting him so worked up. It was just the Peasent Boy. The non-bender. A guy who he'd never gotten along with and had never bothered to even try to get to know. It wasn't like it was the Avatar, or that they would really need him to bring down the Fire Lord. But then, he didn't know why what he'd just said made the other boy so angry either.

Even with most of his face covered and his body still, it was clear that Sokka had been offended. The way his body tensed slightly and his mouth tightened and, really, just the air that he gave off. A cold air; like the winds of the southern land he used to live in, harsh and chilling - and suddenly it made perfect sense to Zuko why the Fire Nation soldiers fled. If he was able to, he would have fled from the tent right then. Dissapeared and just left Sokka to be dealt with by his uncle.

But it was like he was frozen in place, unable to leave the tent and have Sokka sit there on his own until Iroh came to see him. It didn't seem right to do that to him.

"I know that I'm probably never going to be able to walk again because I've seen it more times then I can count. You wouldn't know 'cause you've never been on the real end of Ozai's hate. But when my village got raided...Gods, the people that died from their burns were considered the lucky ones. I've seen burns so bad that entire limbs had to be amputated; and ones that were just left lame for the rest of their lives." A pause as Sokka tugged his outstretched hand back towards his body. "My Gran was the Medicine Woman of our village and I was the only man there that wasn't injured or getting prepared to leave for war. When she needed help with...holding them down...I was the one called in. The only one ever called in. I might not be a doctor, Zuko, but I know burns."

A heavy silence fell over the tent. Zuko wasn't really sure what to say to that. He wasn't sure what to even think about that. The state of people who had been attacked by his father's soldiers had never crossed his mind before. And niether had the state of the Southern Water Tribe after it had been raided. But it made since, he supposed, that as the only man not preparing for war Sokka had been instructed to help with the healing of those who would be expected to fight.

"Your legs..." Zuko finally said, breaking the awkward quiet that had descended over the two. "You don't think they'll ever heal? That you'll ever be able to walk again?"

"I know that they'll never heal Zuko. 'Tara knows it too. She just...She doesn't want to admit it." Sokka said, voice dropping down to a near whisper. His sister, he knew, was never privy to the same sights that he had been. She had never been called into their Grandmother's tent until the blood had been cleaned and the tribe-member, whether they had lived through the treatment or not, was moved elsewhere. But she knew that he knew what he was talking about.

"So what will happen to you?" Zuko didn't know what had made him ask that question but, once it had been asked, the answer was something that he had to know. If Sokka claimed he would never walk again, and was going so far as to ask himself of all people, when Zuko knew perfectly well that Sokka loathed him, then what would happen to the young Water Tribe boy?

Sokka didn't answer right away. So Zuko waited. Minutes passed and stretched into an hour. Then two. Eventually Iroh and Katara returned to the tent and ushered him out, ordering him not to come back him until they were completely done. So Zuko found a nice, dry spot outside of the tent and sat down there to wait some more.

He didn't know why, but that question wouldn't leave his mind. Over and over it swirled. And not a single answer came to him. If Sokka couldn't walk, then he couldn't fight or guide them. If he couldn't hunt or gather, then he couldn't support them. If he had gone low enough that he asked, no, that he demanded Zuko do so in his place, then what did he think would happen to him? What did Katara think would happen to him? The only one that could answer those questions, he knew, was the boy currently being treated.

Eventually, the seal-skin flap of the tent parted and Iroh stepped outside. The distinct stench of blood and burning skin was stuck to his clothes and when he looked at Zuko he shook his head. "Katara will be out in a moment. She needs to talk to you. Do not be stubborn tonight, Zuko."

He was gone before Zuko could ask how bad Sokka was.

A moment later, the sister of the injured boy slipped from the tent. Her hands and dress bore more stains then when he had first gone in but Zuko couldn't tell if they were from dealing with Sokka or dealing with Toph, who he could hear making a ruckus in the next tent over. Her eyes were downcast and her steps were slow as she walked over to where he was sitting.

"What is it, Katara?" Zuko asked, getting right to the point of things. "Uncle said you wanted to speak with me?"

The girl nodded but refused to look at him. "I just...I wanted to know if you would mind sharing a tent with Sokka tonight, Zuko? I know that you and Iroh usually share a tent but he won't let me stay in there with him and - I'm worried.' She cut herself off, finally tilting her head up to look at him. "I really think that he should have someone in there tonight but he's insisting I stay in the tent with Aang."

Zuko almost said 'no'. Why would he want to spend the night in a tent that wasn't his own? But then he saw the look in her light blue eyes, defeated and anguished and lost looking, and he felt his heart drop. That was the look of someone who truly felt as though they had lost it all. His mouth was dry when he nodded his ascent. "I wanted to speak with him anyways."

A small smile, only there for a moment, crossed her face. And then it fell again and her eyes tilted downwards. "Thank you, Zuko."

She was gone before he could gather his thoughts and ask her why she was worried.

Shaking his head, Zuko told himself that the only reason he'd said 'yes' was because he was curious as to what Sokka's answer was be. That was what he told himself as he slipped inside of the Water Tribe boy's tent, the heady scent of medicine and herbs, mingled with blood, hitting him hard.

Sokka was still propped against the rolls on one side of the room. His chest was rising and falling in a steady manner, giving away what his bandage-covered face didn't. He was asleep. Which was fine, Zuko supposed. He would be able to get his questions answered just the same in the morning.

The Fire Nation Prince shed himself of his armor in the side of the tent oppisite Sokka. He had just put one hand on the hilt of one of his blades when a rustle on the other side of the tent captured his attention. Turning around, he was met with the sight of Sokka, head tilted slightly in his direction, with one bandage wrapped hand laying palm up on the ground, outstretched towards where Zuko was standing.

"You're awake." Zuko said, one eyebrow raising. He could have sworn that the Tribe boy had been sleeping. And he had been nowhere near loud enough to wake him. If nothing else, Zuko could respect how hard it was to get to sleep when heavily burned.

"Give me your sword?" Sokka asked, voice quiet but steady, completely ignoring the clear question in Zuko's previous words.

Zuko blinked. Eyes flashed first down to the two swords still at his belt, then back up to Sokka. "What for? You certaintly don't have any use for them right now."

Sokka was silent. The air in the tent seemed to have grown thicker, heavy with tension. Without knowing why, Zuko stiffened up. Something was wrong and off and so not right about that question - but he found himself crossing to the other side of the tent anyways and crouching down on the ground beside Sokka. He had no plans to give over either sword but he felt compelled, by his own curiousity, to find out exactly what was going on.

"You didn't tell me what you planned on doing if I took over for you earlier. I want to know where you think you will end up." Zuko stated.

Silence reighned in the tent.

"I promised them all that I would protect them. Katara, Aang, Toph. I swore to them all, and to my Tribe and everyone else that we've met and helped along the way, that I would get Aang to the Firelord and help him beat him." Sokka finally told him. There was a solemn tone to his voice that made the darkness of the tent seem far greater than it really was. "I can't do that if Aang spends the next two months flying me back to the Sout Pole. He's almost to the Firelord now. I would be breaking all those promises now if I let them do that. It would be selfish of me."

Zuko stayed silent for the simple reason that, for yet another time that night, he had no idea what to say to that.

"And this is the only way around that, you know? I mean, you said that you'll keep them going at least until they get into Ozai's place. I know that I can't ask you to make the same promises that I've made, because I didn't even want to make most of those promises, but I think it will work any way." Sokka said. He was rambling and he knew it. He just didn't care. "There are scrolls in my bag with maps and plans that will lead into Ozai's throne room. There are traps in there too, and some money that I've been saving. I sell the skins of the animals that I catch at markets. You could too. There really...There really isn't any reason for me not to. Not when it can save the world."

Zuko closed his eyes. The words made his heart ache but they also gave him a clarity that he'd never had before. They showed him exactly why Sokka had travelled with them so far and told him that, yes, he really was more than the Meat Guy or the Peasent Boy. And they made it clear that, no matter how often he swore loyalty to the Avatar or how much he claimed to hate the man that was his father, neither set of words would mean as much as if they were said by Sokka.

A man that was willing to give up everything, his innocence and his health and his very life, to keep Aang on track. Who refused to stay alive if it meant that his friends, his family and the very reason that he had ever left his home in the South, might not reach their goal of bringing down the Firelord.

That was something that Zuko could never do, and he knew that.

So the blade was pulled from his belt and handed over to Sokka in silence. And when the Water Tribe boy slowly and painfully lifted it up, Zuko forced himself to watch. It would be disrespectful to do other wise.

To watch as the blade dug into soft flesh and the blood started to flow.

To watch as the life silently left Sokka, taking with it a piece of Zuko that he didn't even realize he had but one that he would forever miss.

To watch as the last jagged breath forced its way past chapped lips as a blue-clad chest fell still for the last time.

Only then did Zuko let himself turn away. Bowing his head and closing his eyes, Zuko silently whispered a prayer that he hadn't even realized he still remembered. And he promised, himself and the Gods whom he was ferverntly muttering to and to the still body that lay beside him, that he would do everything in his power to keep the rest of the group safe. And he would, at risk to everything that he still possesed, get Aang into that throne room.

And, when morning came, he would be able to tell his Uncle that he finally knew what it was really like to fall.