Chapter Text
Sokka had been burnt before. Twice, to be exact.
The first time, he was four years old, attracted to the colours that flickered in shades of burning honey that lit the fireplace of his tent, so he stuck his hand in it. It hurt. A lot. His mother and father had flanked from their bickering by the pot of soup, and he remembers blue eyes on a blank face pressing cold water onto the burn, before careful fingers applied a thin layer of salve. He should’ve learnt his lesson, with his father pressing a kiss to his head and warning him of the dangers of fire, how it takes and takes without any regard for anybody's feelings. After that, fire didn’t seem so beautiful anymore.
The second time, he is ten and ash is crumbling from the sky. In the back of his mind, he knows what’s going on, everyone is taught about what to do when the snow turns black, and the red soldiers reach land, but no matter how many times the adults of the village drilled rules into his head, nothing could prepare anybody for the first time it actually happens. He stumbles over the snow beneath his boots, breath coming out in short huffs as he attempts to make chase after his father, who had followed Katara into their tent at her alarmed cries, except someone is blocking his way. Someone red, and someone large. In his memory, pictures of unsheathing his boomerang and trying to dart past the soldier waver blearily in his mind, but the next thing stays clear, a reminder of how weak he was. The soldier had grabbed him by the wrist and twisted the boomerang out of his grasp, before pulling him forward, pulling him off balance and the burn that followed was the worst thing he’d ever felt.
Hot metal blistered the frail skin of his wrist, and through his screams he could see the wound bubbling open, like an eye, almost as if to say hello. It’s cut short by the soldier being tackled to the ground by Bato, who throws them into the arms of some of the other men and scrambles to scoop Sokka into his arms. He can’t remember anything but crying and the pain.
But none of that could even come close to rivalling what he feels now.
The force of the blast sends him flying backwards, landing directly into the pool behind him. His head hits the back edge with a crack, cutting off his cry of pain, and the sickening cacophony seems to reverberate throughout the spirit oasis as the flames fade away. It burns. He can feel the way the skin on his chest opens up, exposed by the charred remains of his clothes, and it feels every little bit like the dull throb of his wrist but so much worse. As pain courses through his veins, he feels the way his body begins to shut down. Zhao’s bleary face is in front of him, ugly features curled in enragement and Sokka can’t help the amusement that flickers softly in the back of his mind ( hah, sucker ), but he can’t bring himself to focus. It takes too much energy. As it is, he’s struggling to remain conscious at all.
That small part of his brain still coherent enough to think, fears that if he loses consciousness now, he’ll never regain it again.
Somebody’s screaming in the background, but with all his attention on keeping awake and the blaring agony scorched in his chest, he isn’t really sure who it is. It might be him. Sokka rips open an eye with a pained groan, and he can see a blur of fighting, water and fire hurling itself at someone. He hopes they win the day, hopes that Aang will make a valiant decision and use whatever Avatar powers he had to finish the battle. The little airbender had a habit of bursting into bouts of raw power at the last second to swing the odds into his favour, and Sokka can only hope the same for this fight. Hope that he’ll pull through and defeat Zhao, the fire navy, protect Yue.
Yue. He thinks of her father, telling him to protect her from the fire nation, and her pretty smile and grateful eyes. He wonders if he’s succeeded, wonder if she’s still being protected, with him lying in a pool of spirit water, too weak to protect her, too weak to even stand. Now all he can do is lie, writhing in pain and fighting for his life as his friends, always stronger than him, fight in his stead.
He doesn’t regret taking the blast though. Zhao would’ve killed Tui, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine what would’ve happened if he wasn’t there to take the brunt of the flame’s force.
Sokka lets out another gasp. He loses what focus he had on his surroundings, the rope of his consciousness unravelling further, and his thoughts turn inwards as the pain begins to plateau. As nice as it is, he knows it’s not a good sign. The pain isn’t fading. He is.
Everything around him is quiet, and Sokka isn’t too sure if it’s him, or the fight is over. Hands (cold, why are they so cold?) hoist him out of the water, and there’s slapping at his cheek, a scuffle by his shoulder as he’s led on chilled grass. Someone presses something against his chest, and he opens his mouth to protest, because it hurts , but nothing comes out.
As his mind slips further into unconsciousness, he thinks on himself. He never was that strong. His mother left dead, abandoned by his father, unable to fight off somebody the same age as him to protect his home, unable to protect his sister, his friends, Yue. All for the same reason, weak, weak, weak , and now he’d never get a chance to prove himself otherwise.
Sokka tries to take a breath. It hurts to breathe. Something cold splashes over his burn, and he tries to open his eyes, but his eyelids are sewn shut like worn rags, lead attached to his lashes and weighing them down. His head feels floaty, his limbs like jelly, and belatedly, he realises that this is the end. He’s going to die, ripped open by fire and surrounded by people he was unable to protect.
He wonders if this was how his mother felt.
---
There were few things that Yue found as horrifying as the glow of the red moon that night.
The North, despite their years of high held barriers and tight isolation, had been broken in. Their walls invaded by the fire nation, and despite everything their warriors threw at them, the firebenders just kept coming back, stronger than ever. Even the avatar was struggling to sway the tides.
And then the moon spirit was captured.
After that, all of the North’s greatest defences were obliterated, as if they were nothing but little polar bear dogs with brawn too big for their bite. Soldiers draped in crimson flooded their streets, their ships docked at the entrance, still so big despite her place high up on the Bison’s back, the Avatar confused and horrified at how fast the battle had escalated in his absence. Yue shivered under Sokka’s hold, clutching her side as if injured, a feeling of lightheadedness washed over her body as she recalled the circumstances of her birth. Sokka had frowned, lips pulled in a tight line, worry evident in his eyes.
They landed in the Sanctuary and found the culprit immediately; the admiral, Zhao, and his men gathered around the pool, the man himself holding a writhing sack. Even a fool would be able to guess what was held inside. At his feet, a single, black fish swam alone, erratic and disturbed.
Aang confronted the man, and all at once everyone around her was prepared to fight. Sokka shoved her way in front of her, and a fond warmth settled in her chest, despite the fear threatening to bubble over. It was all unbearably tense, fate balanced on the edge of a knife as Zhao’s grip on the bag tightened. Yue grasped at Sokka’s bicep, legs shaking and veins full of ice. She didn’t know what would happen if Tui was killed, and she didn’t want to find out.
And then an old man, dressed in the same uniform as the other soldiers stormed in, and before she could blink, water was drawn and directed at him, except he didn’t attack. Instead, he turned on Zhao, warnings quickly sharpening into threats, “Whatever you do to that spirit I'll unleash on you, tenfold!” He got ready to attack, more than willing to follow up “Let it go, now!”
With so much firepower directed at him, Zhao seemed to fold, expression weakening quickly.
He knelt by the water, ready to give in and released the fish back to where it came.
Yue felt everything rush back to her all at once, and her grip on Sokka loosened as she steadied herself, shoulders slumping in relief. Stances loosened as Zhao stepped away, and maybe she should’ve seen it by the way Sokka didn’t relax, but the way the man’s eyes flashed from defeat to anger was too quick for her to comprehend.
Zhao spun on his heel, lifted his arm and launched, flames roaring from his palms towards the pool. Dread filled her stomach, except the attack didn’t hit the water. It hit Sokka. He had jumped in front.
“SOKKA!”
Katara screams out, and everyone is frozen in their place, watching as Sokka lands into the water, the two fish wriggling in alarm. He writhes in pain, and Zhao’s eyes narrow hatefully, teeth baring into a grotesque snarl- only for him to be hit back by a devastating wave of water. Behind the attack, Katara moves her hands in motion to strike again, and the look in her eyes strikes Yue down to her core.
The spark of anger in her eyes, void of any empathy is like nothing she’s ever seen before. She moves in a vengeance fueled flurry, the daggers in her eyes translating to the water beside her, sharp blades that chase Zhao down. He bats them away like they’re nothing but flies, but she keeps coming, whip after whip raining onto him, and a deft flick of her wrist, too harsh to be proper waterbending kata, sends the admiral sprawling across the ground. She’s a captivating force of nature, method illuminated by the angry glow of the moon above.
Shaken out of her shock by a pained gasp, Yue runs towards Sokka, skidding to the ground as Aang begins pulling him out of the pool. They maneuver him onto the grass, and Yue pulls his head onto her lap, ignoring the water that seeps into her clothes. He’s gasping, hands clenching aimlessly at his chest, and she’s careful to bat them away from the wound. There’s blood everywhere, and she doesn’t know what to do, she doesn’t know . She had never taken healing classes, not being a waterbender, and she’s never felt so utterly useless.
“Sokka! Please stay awake-” The Avatar is crying, tone desperate as he slaps the darker boy’s cheeks in an attempt to stop him from fading into unconsciousness. She spins her head towards him, hands shaking in fear. Sokka’s going to die. He’s going to die.
“Healing water.” She says loudly, her voice cracking.
Aang takes a step back. “I don’t- only Katara can-”
“You’re the Avatar,” Yue shrieks, and she’s too high strung to notice the way he flinches. “You have to atleast try!”
“I-”
The old man kneels down next to them, cutting Aang off before he can finish his sentence. He’s huffing, chest heaving to catch breath, most likely from the attack of Zhao. Zhao- looking around, Yue realises that he’s been chased off, most likely from the onslaught of the old man’s and Katara’s fury. “He needs to be healed, now! ” He turns to Katara, who is already removing water from her side.
It smooths it’s way over his chest, and she trembles, eyes squeezing shut to stop the tears from running down. That’s when Yue breaks. She can’t help the droplets that rush down her cheeks, dripping down onto Sokka’s forehead and she scrambles to wipe them hastily away. She can’t afford to act like this now, not when Sokka is dying.
The water beneath Katara’s palms is pulsing steadily, and Yue watches as she manipulates it with shaking hands. There’s water on her face, and the bottom of her skirt is ripped, but she mostly seems to have come out of the fight unscathed. The old man is in better condition, if a bit wet, and Yue watches with careful eyes as he keeps steady fingers against the pulse in sokka's neck.
Katara suddenly jolted sharply, eyes widening in fear.
“Aang, get me more water, now!” He nods, legs trembling as he bends a pile of snow over towards them. “Join it into my water, carefully!”
Aang frowns, eyebrows tugging down as if he didn’t believe he was able, but did it anyway. The water wormed itself under Katara’s control, each joining droplet glowing a bright, pale blue. He shakes his hands, joining them all on the floor again. Yue turns her head back to Katara, the younger girl’s jaw clenched in fear and a determined expression over her features.
Her hands are cold, blue eyes refusing to water as she continues to desperately move the water across her brother’s chest. Yue releases a breath she didn’t know she had been holding when Sokka lets out a pained sigh, sinking further into her arms. He was going to be okay. He was breathing, he was still there. She snakes a finger over his wrist, fingering at the pulse which thrums slowly. It’s too slow, but it’s there.
‘da dum da dum da dum’
Everyone is quiet. They watch Katara move the water back and forth each sway of her fingers growing more and more desperate. Yue frowns as she feels the pulse slow even more, and the panic she feels is mirrored by the expression on the old man. He can feel it too. The glow dims, and Katara’s features screw up, her arms tensing as she sucks in a heavy breath.
‘ da dum da dum’
“Is he going to be okay?” Aang asks, but nobody replies. The little lemur- Momo- chitters in alarm, going to leap towards Sokka but Aang keeps a tight grip. His lips purse in further worry at the silence, and Yue can’t blame him, but Katara is a skilled healer. A prodigy.
‘ da dum’
“He’ll be fine.” It’s a late answer, but the Avatar relaxes a bit nonetheless. Yue is inclined to believe her, but something deep inside tells her that it’s a lie.
‘ da dum da-’
The water stops glowing.
Katara’s eyes widen in horror, and she screams. Her hands scramble, water sloshing over Sokka’s body, before slamming it down onto Sokka’s chest in a fit of desperation. Yue presses all over for any sign, any sign of a pulse, but there’s nothing there.
He’s gone. He’s gone.
Tears escape from her eyes, streaming down even heavier than before. The other’s are no better, and a sickening wail echoes from next to her. Katara, Katara who had told her the story of her betrothal necklace and has now had to see two of her family members die to protect someone in her lifetime. She drops down, sobs wracking her body as she shakes and shakes at his body, cold and lifeless. A corpse.
Yue’s head is thrumming, eyes blurred by tears. This is her fault. Sokka had been protecting her, he had sworn to and she hadn’t batted an eye. She hadn’t thought twice about him swearing to protect her with her life, because she was so sure he would live, but now he was gone, life thrown away as if it was nothing to protect Tui.
Tui.
Yue scrambles up, feet stumbling on her skirt and Sokka’s head dropping from her lap as she drops down next to the pool. They’re swimming there, a perfect circle, push and pull. Reaching up to tug at one of her braids, she flattens her gaze at the fish who gave her her life. The spirit merciful enough to spare her.
“Tui- please, I beg. Sokka gave his life for you, and now he’s gone-” She chokes back a sob, thin fingers tightening around white locks. “You can’t just let that happen! He saved you, you have to do something !”
Tui’s movement’s almost seemed to falter, tail twitching back and forth, as if considering the request. Something cool drips down her spine, and her shoulder’s slump; Yue casts a glance upwards, and she can feel her breath catch in her throat as the moon above glows down upon her, accepting, generous.
Yes.
“Bring Sokka over here, put him in the pool!”
Nobody needs to be asked twice, and the old man helps Katara and Aang direct Sokka over, his body limp and unmoving in their arms. They lay him in the pool, and the water envelops his sides, rising up the tips of his cheeks. Her head still pounds, blaring with fear, but something in her tells her what she has to do. She can’t tell if it’s Tui directing her with careful hands, or her own mind taking charge for once in her life, but she knows how to help him. With a shaky breath, Yue removes her gloves, placing them onto the surface of Sokka’s chest.
It’s scabbed from Katara’s healing, and the feeling of it squelching beneath her fingertips is slightly sickening, but she can’t find it in her to care. With gentle fingers, she pushes him downwards, and the water is freezing but the risk of a few lost fingers is nothing compared to his life. Water ascends further up Sokka as she continues to push, before his body has been mostly submerged in the pool, slumped against the jagged sides with only his head above water, leant against the stone. Yue can’t help but notice the odd movements of Tui and La, as they move in a push and pull manner beside Sokka.
They glide effortlessly, back and forth, round and round, push and pull, and Tui swipes gently upwards, pausing to float above the wounded patch of his chest. A bright light seeps from their scaled body, and the moon above reflects in the clear water in front of her, a blank white face. Nothing feels particularly real right now. The soft silence, nothing but nervous breaths drifting around the Oasis as that bright light blanketed Sokka, a warm, maternal grasp around him.
Katara steps forward slightly, voicing her alarm, but the old man rests a placating hand on her shoulder. The worry was understandable, but Yue knew Sokka would be alright, she just knew. It was a feeling lodged in her gut, and maybe it was because she was living proof of Tui’s generosity, but she knew that such a sacrifice would not go unseen. As a young infant, Yue had done nothing but be born into high status to earn the Moon’s favor, and maybe this act of mercy had led her on by a thread, fooled her into believing Tui’s mercy extended to so many others, but this was different. Sokka had died for them. Yue was nothing but a weak, useless and babbling wrinkle of fur swaddled flesh, not even old enough to think for herself when she was saved by their great spirit. The mother that watched over during the night.
Movement’s stop, and finally, the glow dims. But nothing happens. Tui slips from her monument above Sokka’s chest, the scab partly healed now and the edges scarred over. Still nothing. There is shuffling behind her, the Avatar’s panicked question and the hush of the old man. Katara says nothing, and Yue doesn’t have to look to see the tears trailing down her cheeks, a short sob crackling briefly, muffled behind a glove.
And then- a gasp of wet relief, as lips part part and air fills greedy lungs. Yue looks up just in time to see brown strands bleed a beautiful, pure white. The colour of Tui.