[fic] I've Got You
Title: I've Got You
Word count: 600
Pairing: Sokka/Zuko
Rating: PG
Summary: It would be easier to leave, but he knows he can't. If he walks away now, he'll always look back and wonder. And he has enough regrets in his life as it is.
Note: Set in the days after "The Boiling Rock," and originally written as a commentfic for ming85. Thanks to hoshizora for looking it over!
(Happy Valentine's day, guys! Now, back to trying to finish Chapter 11 of "Something to Hold Onto," which is currently over 12,000 words long. x______x )
***
"I just..." Zuko looks down at his lap, where his fingers are twisting themselves around each other, the nails bitten short. He stood outside of this room for long, terrifying minutes before knocking on the door, and his ragged fingertips bear testament to how close he came to leaving.
It would be easier to let this go. It would be easier to laugh, mumble an apology and escape to his own room. Sokka wouldn't think anything of it, after all. Sokka probably thinks he's kind of an idiot -- kind of a mess. And he is. He's a mess of untidy hair and torn cuticles and a mouth that refuses to form the words he so badly wants to say.
That he has to say, really.
It would be easier to leave, but he knows he can't. If he walks away now, he'll always look back and wonder. And he has enough regrets in his life as it is.
He forces his dry throat to swallow and tries again. "I just keep thinking," he says quietly. "About your hand. About..." He hears the other boy shift on the bed across from him, and knows how this must sound. "About how it felt. When I was holding it."
Sokka laughs softly, all nerves and awkwardness. "Yeah, well...that's kind of how things go around here. People saving each other. Friends pulling friends back from the brink of certain death." Zuko glances up at him as he rubs his neck, his eyes on the small window and the crumbling temple beyond it. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it after a while. It's kind of-"
"Sokka..." Zuko's fingers untangle and he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I don't..."
He trails off again, but he can tell that Sokka understands. The other boy frowns in thought, his face lit by the last dregs of sunset, considering the words Zuko can't bring himself to say. But then, isn't that why Zuko is here in this room, sitting on this bed and having this absurd conversation? Sokka always understands. And Zuko wonders, again, how he lived so many years without a person like this in his life.
Mai came first, and Zuko loves her. He always will. Maybe someday he'll be able to see her again and thank her for what she did. And maybe she'll find it in herself to forgive him; to step back into the hollow she left in his heart.
But for now -- maybe for a very long time -- Mai is lost to him. She's gone, because he let her go. Because he walked away.
He won't walk away from this.
"I couldn't let you fall," he murmurs, and Sokka turns to look at him.
"You'dve done the same for anyone," he says, soft and a little cautious.
"But..." Zuko wants to look down at his hands again. They ache from how tightly they're clasped. "I couldn't let you fall, Sokka."
"I..." Sokka runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He sits in silence for a long time, brow creased in a way Zuko has grown used to. In a way he knows he'd miss if it were gone.
"Yeah," Sokka murmurs finally, the word a sharp exhale. "Yeah, I know what you mean."
Zuko can tell that he does, and his chest is hot and tight with certainty.
***
Word count: 600
Pairing: Sokka/Zuko
Rating: PG
Summary: It would be easier to leave, but he knows he can't. If he walks away now, he'll always look back and wonder. And he has enough regrets in his life as it is.
Note: Set in the days after "The Boiling Rock," and originally written as a commentfic for ming85. Thanks to hoshizora for looking it over!
(Happy Valentine's day, guys! Now, back to trying to finish Chapter 11 of "Something to Hold Onto," which is currently over 12,000 words long. x______x )
***
"I just..." Zuko looks down at his lap, where his fingers are twisting themselves around each other, the nails bitten short. He stood outside of this room for long, terrifying minutes before knocking on the door, and his ragged fingertips bear testament to how close he came to leaving.
It would be easier to let this go. It would be easier to laugh, mumble an apology and escape to his own room. Sokka wouldn't think anything of it, after all. Sokka probably thinks he's kind of an idiot -- kind of a mess. And he is. He's a mess of untidy hair and torn cuticles and a mouth that refuses to form the words he so badly wants to say.
That he has to say, really.
It would be easier to leave, but he knows he can't. If he walks away now, he'll always look back and wonder. And he has enough regrets in his life as it is.
He forces his dry throat to swallow and tries again. "I just keep thinking," he says quietly. "About your hand. About..." He hears the other boy shift on the bed across from him, and knows how this must sound. "About how it felt. When I was holding it."
Sokka laughs softly, all nerves and awkwardness. "Yeah, well...that's kind of how things go around here. People saving each other. Friends pulling friends back from the brink of certain death." Zuko glances up at him as he rubs his neck, his eyes on the small window and the crumbling temple beyond it. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it after a while. It's kind of-"
"Sokka..." Zuko's fingers untangle and he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I don't..."
He trails off again, but he can tell that Sokka understands. The other boy frowns in thought, his face lit by the last dregs of sunset, considering the words Zuko can't bring himself to say. But then, isn't that why Zuko is here in this room, sitting on this bed and having this absurd conversation? Sokka always understands. And Zuko wonders, again, how he lived so many years without a person like this in his life.
Mai came first, and Zuko loves her. He always will. Maybe someday he'll be able to see her again and thank her for what she did. And maybe she'll find it in herself to forgive him; to step back into the hollow she left in his heart.
But for now -- maybe for a very long time -- Mai is lost to him. She's gone, because he let her go. Because he walked away.
He won't walk away from this.
"I couldn't let you fall," he murmurs, and Sokka turns to look at him.
"You'dve done the same for anyone," he says, soft and a little cautious.
"But..." Zuko wants to look down at his hands again. They ache from how tightly they're clasped. "I couldn't let you fall, Sokka."
"I..." Sokka runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He sits in silence for a long time, brow creased in a way Zuko has grown used to. In a way he knows he'd miss if it were gone.
"Yeah," Sokka murmurs finally, the word a sharp exhale. "Yeah, I know what you mean."
Zuko can tell that he does, and his chest is hot and tight with certainty.
***