Trust | Zukka

[ T H R E E ]

"Pretty clouds."

Zuko glanced over at Sokka, who was staring up at the sky, absently running a gloved hand along the blade of his sword. He looked like he was prepared to use it at any second. Zuko thought about telling him to relax, that he had a plan and he wasn't going to let anything go wrong.

Instead, he said, "Yeah, fluffy."

Sokka started whistling and Zuko went back to shooting flames into the burner. He needed to keep the balloon just above the clouds so that they wouldn't be spotted.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his wrist.

"Ah!" he hissed, yanking his arm backwards.

Sokka stopped whistling. "You okay?"

"It's my wrist," Zuko said. "I landed on it funny when you...well, when you landed on me."

"Oops," Sokka blushed. "Sorry about that."

"Oh, I, uh...it's fine," Zuko stuttered, realizing what he'd said. "I probably would've done the same thing if somebody stole my food."

Sokka laughed nervously. He couldn't help but feel embarrassed. He'd practically thrown himself on top of Zuko trying to get his supplies back.

"It doesn't even hurt that bad," Zuko lied.

He shot another flame into the burner to prove it, but this time the pain was even sharper.

"Oww," he groaned.

"Okay, I think that's enough heat to keep us floating for a while," Sokka said, standing up. "Can I look at it?"

Zuko hesitated for a second before holding out his arm. Sokka cupped one hand under his wrist, carefully turning it over and prodding it with his fingers. It didn't hurt, but for some reason Zuko felt himself inhale sharply as Sokka ran his thumb along the bony part of his wrist.

"I think it's just sprained," Sokka murmured. "Here, sit down."

Zuko sat reluctantly and watched as Sokka rummaged through his bag, tossing supplies left and right. He wondered how he was always so prepared when he was the most unorganized person Zuko had ever met.

"What are you—?"

"Here it is!" Sokka was holding up something white and round, grinning triumphantly.

"Yay," Zuko said sarcastically. "Toilet paper."

"They're bandages," Sokka corrected, rolling his eyes. He crouched down in front of Zuko and took his wrist, placing it on top of his knee. "Made from arctic seal blubber."

"Oh. That's...normal," Zuko winced as Sokka started wrapping the material around his wrist.

"Just shut up and hold still, will you?"

Zuko did as he was told. Sokka's touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingers brushing lightly against Zuko's skin as he pulled the bandage tighter. Zuko had never pictured Sokka as the healing or nurturing type, but his wrist already felt a little better.

"Where'd you learn how to do this?" he asked.

Sokka glanced up at Zuko, then back down at the bandages. For a second, it seemed like he wasn't going to answer.

"When the Fire Nation attacked my village, we didn't have any healers left. Katara was our only waterbender, but she was really young. I had to learn how to wrap a lot of broken bones," Sokka shrugged. "I guess I got pretty good at it."

Zuko felt a pang of guilt. It wasn't as if the raid had been his fault. He was only ten years old when it happened, but he was still ashamed that he'd supported his father for so long after that merciless attack and many others.

"That must've been awful," was all he said.

"Yeah," Sokka replied. "War sucks."

"Well, if there's one thing my father's good at, it's war," Zuko's tone was sheepish, almost like he was trying to apologize to Sokka for his father's actions.

"Yeah, it seems to run in the family."

"Hey!" Zuko pulled his arm out of Sokka's hands. "Not everyone in my family is like that!"

"Woah, careful," Sokka reached out to stop the bandages from unraveling. "I didn't mean it like that. I know you've changed."

"I'm not talking about me," Zuko said quietly, letting Sokka take his wrist again. "I meant my uncle. He was more of a father to me, and I really let him down."

"I think your uncle would be proud of you," Sokka frowned. "It must've been hard to betray your family to come help us."

Zuko was quiet for a moment.

"It wasn't that hard," he admitted.

"Really?" Sokka asked. "You didn't leave behind anyone you cared about?"

"Well, my sister never cared about anything except power," Zuko scoffed. "And my father pretty much disowned me the minute I was born."

A look of sympathy crossed Sokka's face.

"Well, who needs them anyway," he muttered. "You have us now."

The twinge in Zuko's chest returned. He gave Sokka a weak smile.

Sokka finished wrapping the bandages and stepped back to admire his handiwork. "Ta-da!"

"Thanks, Doc," Zuko laughed. "So, what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Did you leave behind anyone you cared about?"

"Well, there was this girl from the Northern Water Tribe," Sokka began. "But she turned into the moon."

Zuko didn't know which part to focus on. First, there was the fact that Sokka had been in love before. Zuko had no idea what that felt like, and even less of an idea why he cared if Sokka did. Then, there was this whole concept of turning into the moon.

What does a person even say to that? he thought to himself.

"That's rough, buddy."

Bingo. Nice job, Zuko. That was definitely a normal,  comforting response.

Suddenly, the ship jolted forward, pulling Zuko out of his thoughts. A thick cloud of steam had surrounded them, and they were descending quickly.

"We're going down!" Zuko jumped to his feet and started shooting flames into the burner as fast as he could. "The balloon's not working!"

"The air outside is just as hot as the air inside," Sokka shouted. "So we can't fly!"

"Well, what are we supposed to do?"

The balloon dipped, throwing them both against the side of the ship.

"Crash landing?"