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[Time passes oddly. Between one second and the next, Sokka has the Fire Lord pinned to the wall with his hands around the bastard’s throat. Golden eyes (one gold eye, his mind whispers) widen in shock.
“Sokka?” he chokes out. And then he smiles.
What the fuck?
“Sokka, I—”
Sokka slams his head against the wall, once, twice, and the smile wipes off his face. Good.
“What,” Sokka bites out, “have you done to my sister?”]
Or:
An injury leaves Sokka with amnesia. His last memory is of the failed invasion, of leaving his father behind in enemy territory on the Day of Black Sun. Of hopelessness. Rage.
But then he wakes up, and the war is over. Suddenly, he must come to terms with the fact that years have passed, and that he's somehow the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador to the Fire Nation. He is also supposedly friends with banished-Prince-turned-Fire-Lord Zuko, of all people. Close friends.
Yeah, nah.