#needed to repost this so i could add it to my fic consolidation as it's own post hehe

[my-cabbages-gorl]

Mercy and Lightning- tiny lil zukaang ficlet by @my-cabbages-gorl

General Audiences, hurt/comfort, zukaang

inspired by this post from @that-boomerang-guy

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Sun-warmed moisture wrapped its relentless arms around their weary bodies. The damp air clung to their skin, even on the shaded side of the courtyard. With only a few days until the comet, they were bone-tired from training; body and spirit. 

“I’m sorry- I need a break. We’ve been at this for hours,” Aang huffed between breaths. He turned his back to walk toward the steps to sit down. The sight of pinkish boiled flesh in the center of his back stabbed Zuko with an uncomfortable urgency. Before Aang could take his next step, he felt a hand close tightly around his wrist. “Zuko, wh--”  

“You need to master this technique,” the command of his teaching voice faded, replaced now only with pleading. “Please, Aang. We don’t have much time for rest.”  

“Even if you think I’m ready,” he didn’t pull his wrist from Zuko's grasp as he looked up into his golden eyes, “how can we be sure I can do it if we don’t even have lightning to redirect?” he sounded exhausted, “Is there any way to make sure that I can do it? That I don’t- ” his voice pitched in exasperation before his gaze fell to the stone floor.     Die, again? Is what he wanted to say. But, he couldn’t ask that. Not to the person who watched his limp body convulsing with electricity, gasping for his last breath. The same person who sent an assassin to make sure he stayed dead.  

In the way Aang’s wrist slumped in Zuko’s hand, he could feel the memory washing over him; as if it was flowing into his skin with every heartbeat fluttering in the veins under his fingertips. He wanted to wrap Aang in his arms, promise he’d protect him; that he’d do everything in his power to keep him safe; beg him to master this because he couldn’t afford to lose him, the only person who showed him mercy and believed in who he really was. He wanted to crush his palms against Aang’s jaw, drag him close and say next time, I’ll kill for you; next time, I’ll die for you. 

Instead, he said, “I should have stopped her, but I didn’t,” their hands still tethering them together.  

Aang turned to face him, the stern set of his narrowed eyes meeting Zuko’s. “But, you didn’t,” he tilted his face away, seeing a dragonfly-hummingbird flitting between the trees lining the courtyard. As he noticed the scales of it’s wings glinting in the sunlight, Zuko watched the lines of his face soften.  

“Aang, I’m so, so-” his grip slackening as he spoke. 

“Zuko, it’s...” okay? But, it wasn’t. Not yet, at least. But somehow, somewhere between the feeling of Zuko's fingers on his wrist and the tenderness in his amber eyes, Aang knew it would be okay. He shook his head, the corner of his mouth lifting from a frown into a hard line. “Let’s go over the forms again," their eyes locking with a nod, "sifu.” 

Breaking apart, they bowed to one another in the hallowed air. Their feet slid across the sun-warmed stone as they assumed fighting positions. As the hours wore on, Aang watched in silence as Zuko shifted, mirroring his body with his own. When the sun had sagged down behind the horizon, Aang lit a fire so he could keep following Zuko's movements in the fading light. They moved together through their stances into the night; dancing to the charged, mysterious harmony of death and rebirth.

~