No rest for the weary

[princeinexile]

The dead were dead. The survivors were rescued. Harth had never been found. They were surgerying the magog-infected.

And Zuko sat at his table with a sheaf of names, the sobbing, the exhausted, the grateful, the scared-- the newly rescued. There had been more then just Katara's little pack of cronies in her slave rebellion -- many more. He wrote; a high-impact roster that would be sure to put his scavengers and fighters at their limits-- but now? So was their capacity to support themselves.

They needed to expand, and fast.

There was little he could do other then write till his hands ached, and the stubs of his fingers, only half-healed, wore to bleeding.

When the pages were blotted with red, he just had to start over with a snarl, bringing to maimed fingers to his mouth to sooth the hurt with his warm mouth and tongue; a wet 'burn' and it'd be fine... for a while.

Comments

[slayer_fray]

After wandering the apartments, checking people were settled, headcounting, worrying about supplies, helping to clear the carnage, Mel heads back to 103 to check up on the important one...

Only to gasp in frustration and worry when she sees what he's doing, and cross the room in a few strides.

"Don't."

[princeinexile]

He can't talk with his mouthful, so he just gives her a look; half-pleading. An I'm fine don't worry glance.

But then he's got his next paper and has found his pen again. "'m okay," is all he says.

[slayer_fray]

Mel sighs, and pulls a chair over, so she's sitting as close to him as she can get without actually being in his lap.

"You're spun," she says, holding her hand out for the pen. "Dictate."

[princeinexile]

"No, it's just-- a little soreness. My hands are fine. Really." There is a fight somewhere in those words, but he does not have the energy to start it. "I can finish."

[slayer_fray]

She glances at him, exasperated and hurt more than actually looking to fight.

"Please?"

[princeinexile]

She said please.

His hands stop.

Dammit.

The pen is laid down. The prince sinks back in his chair.

"... was I wrong?"

[slayer_fray]

Mel grabs the pen into her own hand, but reaches for his with her other, cradling gently.

"To set back your healing so badly when you're surrounded by capable people who'd be happy to write what you told them? Yeah."

But that's not really what he asked, was it?

[princeinexile]

No, but he's grateful for the humor, laughing softly. "I-- I know," he says.

At least... he knows that.

But he doesn't ask again.

[slayer_fray]

Mel sighs, and shrugs lightly, one shoulder.

"Kinda the wrong person to ask," she says. "I got two sisters out of it. I was the one got the plans in motion while you were in hospital. You know I'd've led the charge, things were different."

[princeinexile]

He nods, and -- can't really remember what he was doing now. MAybe he should stop before he startss just writing recriminations on the page...or dictates them to her.

"I'm glad you didn't, or you'd be having some magog's baby, instead of mine," he says simply. "Three bit. We might save two. ... I don't... know what they're going to do for Harper."

He sighs softly, and rubs his eyes.

"I love you."

[slayer_fray]

"We saved a lot more than three."

It's not about numbers of course, but it's easier to explain it that way. "No one went in didn't choose to.

"I love you. What you did was right."

[princeinexile]

"Adam didn't believe. He may die, and he thinks to the end that I was wrong," Zuko says darkly. But it's not about numbers.

"Tim died. Paige and Angua are severely wounded. Most of the survivors are injured, if not traumatized..."

But... they got Erin back. And Katara. And... And so many people... And...

"... and they never saw Harth at all."

[slayer_fray]

"But he still went in," Mel says. "He can pose all he likes. Threaten to storm off into the night and leave us 'kids' to get ourselves killed because we wouldn't murder people we couldn't save, but..." she shrugs, "I told him quite firmly that he didn't have to go. It's his life and for all his trying to paint himself as a cold hard killer, he took the risk for us."

She sighs, looking down and her fingers as she turns the pen over in them.

"I never talked to Tim, but I know he fought hard and well. Did what he could. Paige - from what I know, she practically did this thing for a living back home. Angua -" there she grins, but doesn't look up "- she went in more often than anyone. They knew the risks. We never ordered them to do anything. They chose to each time."

[princeinexile]

"I know," he says. He knows the reasons. He knows them, all. He knows Adam did what he did for his own reasons; he could have refused. Angua and Paige, they did this for their reasons -- for the simple idea that it was right to them, and so it had to be done...

"I just-- don't want to be my father, Mel. I'm afraid that just once, I'll look at it like numbers, or pieces moved over a map-- like Uncle's pai-sho..." he takes a slow breath, lets it out. "I burned for it once. I don't -- I don't want to --"

He can't find the right words and stops, growling, frustrated.

[slayer_fray]

Mel glances at him suddenly when he mentions being burned. but she doesn't know how to ask that.

"I don't believe you ever will," she says quietly.

[princeinexile]

He misses her glance, which is probably for the best. He just rubs his face and then says, "I hope not."

Of course that have Azula now, and-- that's like having a less certain version of Ozai running around the place anyway.

But he looks over and then realizes: Azula's going to tell her. She will, eventually. Now he has to tell her all these horrible things so that Azula can't.

"I left in disgrace, you know. Not just-- because-- I was an exile. But-- because why. I -- my father, he was-- using men like meat, to bait a more seasoned troop, and -- I spoke out--" And it's just coming out in a rush, and this isn't how he planned it. It should be careful and expressive, a simple telling, not with frenzied, weary emotion, "And -- I gave insult to his general in the war room, and he said I had to duel for my honor. And I said I would-- but-- I thought I was dueling the general, Mel-- the general. I was-- willing to fight him! For my honor! But-- it was father in the dueling court, and-- I couldn't-- I couldn't fight him, Mel."

[slayer_fray]

Mel holds her breath when he starts to tell her, and just looks at him while he talks, holding his hand, and just hoping to be there.

"Because you wouldn't treat people as disposable."

[princeinexile]

"But-- I couldn't-- fight him, either."

He caved. He broke and he caved. "I knelt and I begged forgiveness. And he told me he was weak and took one shot and--"

And that was it. He looks away, and then over at her; one intense burn, to the face -- a mark of dishonor. "He told me he was ashamed of me. Stripped me of honor and told me if I was to ever re--regain anything, I had to find the Avatar."

And the Avatar turned out to be a twelve year old boy.

Who she punched him in the face for chasing.

[slayer_fray]

What can she says to that? Except take both of his hnds in hers, and stay there.

"How old were you?"

[princeinexile]

"Just-- fourteen."

He's only barely seventeen now, Mel.

[slayer_fray]

She knows. She forgets, sometimes, that he's two years younger than her. But she does know.

She drops one of his hands and reaches up, to the hair on the right side of his face, to touch him and show him she's not ashamed.

"You did nothing wrong."

[princeinexile]

Didn't he? He's not sure which was wrong; kneeling and crying before the nation -- or speaking out before his father like a fool.

But he doesn't say that. He just sinks into her touch, and sighs.

He's tired, and now? He's tapped the last of his reserves.

He wants to thank her. He wants to say something, anything at all. But he finds her has no voice; just his hand pressed to the back of hers, grateful-- and needful-- for her touch.

[slayer_fray]

Oh please, he thinks she didn't beg when she was being held by her face above a hundred yard drop to the street?

She loves him. And she's proud of him, and that shouldn't have been hard to say to her.

Leaning forward, half rising from her seat, she presses a kiss to his cheek.

"Com'on," she says. "You need rest."

[princeinexile]

He thinks for a split second to argue, and then -- just nods. "Big day ahead of us," he infally says. "Big, big day."

And now? He wants a bed with his woman, his baby-- what he thinks might be his future... if he can manage not to die again before it's realized.

"Thanks."

[slayer_fray]

"Shhh," She scoops him up gently into her arms and carries him to the bedroom, nodding.

It is a big day ahead of them. But he can't do it while he's hurting like this. He needs to rest, to sleep, and to know that he's loved.

"Any time."