Work Text:
Sokka and Toph find the Fire Lord shaking, clutching his hair, and crying. He’s sitting on the floor at the edge of the enormous bed that honestly would make a pretty good raft.
For a minute the Water Tribe boy thinks the whole lightning to the chest thing must have finally hit Zuko. But Katara had been healing him occasionally for months, and he can move okay enough now.
Toph makes a small noise, and falls to her hands and knees. She crawls (just like a badgermole, huh) to the teenage monarch’s side. Making no move to touch him, she starts singing.
Wait.
Toph.
Singing.
Some cute little song about a platypus bear dancing.
Sokka could easily laugh, except he can’t, because two of his best friends are now crying on a floor and a twelve year old should never have to comfort a seventeen year old. That should be his parents’ job.
But this seventeen year old runs a country twisted by a century of war, his parents left or tried to destroy him, and Toph has never let her age dictate what she does.
Sokka is still frozen by the door when the half screams stop coming out of Zuko, and the firebender lets himself fall into Toph’s waiting arms.
He forces himself to join his friends on the floor.
“What’s up, hotman?” Katara would probably hit the back of his head for approaching this situation with a terrible attempt at humor, but she’s not there and Sokka just wants to see anything other than terror on Zuko’s face.
None of them laugh, but the Fire Lord takes a deep, shaky breath and clings just a little tighter to Toph.
They had gotten in a few hours ago. Ba Sing Se was nice and all, but Toph and Sokka had been more than happy to be sent by Iroh (with an enormous package of new teas to try) to visit Zuko. Well, Sokka to visit. The little earthbender lived at the Fire Nation palace.
Usually the Fire Lord was there to receive visitors. Zuko was always there to welcome his friends to his home.
But for the first time in months, Zuko’s (kind of cute) lopsided grin was not there when Sokka strode off the boat, ready to throw himself at the Fire Lord. One of these days he will win their impromptu wrestling matches.
There was just a quiet royal page, with sad eyes, gesturing them to a palanquin.
They’d never been in a palanquin before. It was awkward. Toph couldn’t see shit, and Sokka was just weirded out at the concept.
But something was obviously wrong, and they didn’t want to cause a fuss.
When they got to the palace, some of the older staff members (Sokka knows they’ve decided Zuko is their child now) were waiting. They remembered the boy with the turtleducks and were pleasantly surprised by the teenager who always knew everyone’s name and never threatened to burn anyone.
They didn’t speak, didn’t even try. Just ushered Toph and Sokka towards the Fire Lord’s chambers.
“I can’t do this,” Zuko gasps out.
“Can’t do what?” Toph’s tone is gentler than Sokka’s ever heard it. She’s always so kind to the boy she’s decided is her older brother. Even when she punches his arm, it’s a tad softer than anyone else in the group gets.
“This. This palace. I love the Fire Nation. I love my people. But this was his room. I walk through the halls and I see him and I want to scream but he’s not really there. I wake up and think he’s here and I’m so close sometimes so close, but I don’t want to, but I can’t live like this…”
The babbling dies off, and Zuko starts sobbing again.
“Hold him,” Toph instructs, her softness gone, something brittle taking its place.
Sokka does as he’s told, allowing himself to brush his fingers through Zuko’s growing hair. Fire Lords have long hair. But when this one looks in the mirror, from the right angle, he must see, just for a moment, the monster of his worst nightmares.
He should probably cut it.
Before Sokka can try a boomerang haircut (again, but nobody would laugh at the Fire Lord, not like Katara had at his lopsided wolf tail), there’s several smashing noises.
He looks up, and part of him is not surprised to find Toph smiling, just a little maniacally, and no wall in front of them. There used to be a window, and a terrace overlooking a garden. Now it’s like the garden has come inside.
Toph doesn’t stop there.
By the time she’s done, and Zuko is actively hugging Sokka back, the room is gone. The only bits left are the bits of wall holding dao swords, some theater masks, the bookcase, and the tea table.
All that remains of the Fire Lords past are uniquely Zuko.
“I’m going to go have words with the decorator. We’re going to camp out tonight. The three of us. Probably for a while.” Toph kisses Zuko’s forehead, punches his shoulder ever so lightly, and stomps off.
Sokka is left holding together the Fire Lord. But more than that. A firebending master, expert swordsman, super sneaky ninja skills dude, shitty dancer, honorable friend .
“I’m here. I’m not leaving you alone with any of this,” the Water Tribe boy murmurs into Zuko’s hair.
“You will. You all leave,” comes the reply, and something in Sokka’s heart breaks.
“Not this time. Just you wait, you’ll get sick of me before I leave. You’ll be begging for me to go. I’ll eat all your food. I’m going to single handedly bring hotman back. Your turtleducks will love me more. I’ll finally beat you in a sword fight.” He knows he’s rambling, but the quiet rumbling coming from the figure clinging to him that he knows is no longer sobbing keeps him going.
Eventually, when Zuko has fallen asleep on the rubble-covered floor, his head in Sokka’s lap, Toph returns. She brings several staff members, some of who bring steaming platters and tea pots. Some start taking the personal effects out of the room. Some start whispering excitedly, and Sokka can see sketches forming of a new bed chamber for the Fire Lord.
“He’s going to be okay,” he says to Toph.
“Yes.” She nods emphatically. “We’ll cuddle the shit out of him until he is.”