Born Beneath An Angry Star

14. Our little group has always been and always will until the end

Author's note: Finally I finished the story. Sorry for being the world's slowest and whiniest writer. I just want to say THANK YOU to everyone who's been here from the beginning to the end. Thanks to everyone who took time out of their lives to read this story whether you commented or not. Thanks to everyone who stuck by me. I was ready to give up but a lot of you left me such encouraging comments and I also realized that I wasn't being fair to all the new readers out there or the people who just don't know what to leave in a review. Yes I do plan on writing a sequel, but I'm not sure when I'll ever get it done as I am the world's slowest writer. Anyways I just want to say THANK YOU to all of my readers and I hope you've enjoyed reading this fanfic as much as I enjoyed writing it. Much love and ship Zutara.

For his father to have died by Aang's hands was a possibility that Zuko had prepared himself for; the possibility of his father dying from sickness was not. Not once in his childhood had he seen his father sick in fact he'd always thought it was by sheer force of will that his father remained healthy. He most certainly never gave off the impression that anything could ever hurt him or slow him down. Whatever it was that was wrong with him must have been rare to have invaded his father's person. 

Zuko hurriedly follow Dr. Yamamoto down the hallway to The Royal Medical Ward. The Royal family never left the palace grounds to seek medical treatment as they were considered far too superior over the rest of the populace to risk getting their germs. Growing up Zuko had always hated that; with everything that the family needed within the palace grounds it felt like there was no escape. Today he was extremely grateful for that fact. No one outside of the palace walls needed to know about his father. Not even everyone within the palace walls would be privy to that information.

The last time Zuko had visited the Royal Family Medical Ward he'd hardly remembered it. He had been taken there right after his father had burned him and the pain caused him to pass out several times. The last time he had regained consciousness the doctors, who had been ordered to simply clean his wound, were finishing up his bandages and sending him on his way. 

He wasn't given anything for the pain nor any medicines to keep his burn from getting infected. His father hadn't come to visit him. Instead he had given Zuko the oldest most broken down ship in the Fire Navy fleet as a parting gift. Then as the final insult sent him off to capture the Avatar knowing the whole time it was a fools errand from which his only son would likely never return, but despite the inhumane way that his father had treated him, he could not repay his father in kind.

"How is he?" Zuko asked.

"Still no change." Dr. Yamamoto said. He placed his hand on the door knob of the ex Fire Lord's room and then looked directly into Zuko's eyes. "You might want to brace yourself, Fire Lord."

Zuko took a deep breath, let it out, and then nodded several times. "All right. I'm ready."

Dr. Yamamoto opened the door and stepped aside to let Zuko and Katara through.

It was hard for Zuko to believe that the man who was sitting on that hospital bed was the same man who had tormented him for the first thirteen years of his life. This was not the man that he'd grown up to fear. "Reo, said you don't know what's wrong with him. Is that true?"

"Yes, Fire Lord, to be frank with you he will probably never recover from this state. I am at a loss for a proper diagnosis for what his condition is exactly."

Zuko looked back at his father as he sat on his hospital bed staring into the empty space in front of him. He didn't even seem to be aware that there were others in the room with him. If his father had been aware there were others there he would have never appeared in this state in front of them. His hair was lank and greasy as if he hadn't washed it in days. Then there was his outfit. Not only did it not match, but it was made out of cheap fabric. Fabric so cheap that his father wouldn't even of let the maids use it as dust rags.