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Sokka doesn’t know what clued him in.
After long days traveling with the Southern Water Tribe commission to Ba Sing Se and arriving late in the night, hours after dinner had been served to the guests in the Palace, Sokka’s eyelids are heavy. All his notes had been scattered through their sleeping quarters during the storm from earlier today, so he’s trying to sort the mess he made when he shoved them back in his bag before disembarking.
He tried to convince himself it’ll be worth it to sleep in tomorrow, but he has half a mind to just say screw it and burrow under the covers of the comfy bed against Zuko.
Zuko had been asleep when Sokka arrived - Tui and La, it had been later than he imagined - a scroll lying forgotten on his chest and dark rings under his eyes. Sokka had kissed his forehead, earning a sleepy smile, but Zuko had been too far gone to do more before sleep claimed him back.
Maybe that’s why Sokka freezes the moment the sound reaches his ears. It’s muffled, an unassuming little noise, and it stops just as soon as it came.
He stares unseeingly at his notes and holds his breath, waiting. And - fuck, there it is again.
Sokka is pushing away from the table and crossing the doorframe to his and Zuko’s room the second he pinpoints where the sound came from. It comes again clearer, and Sokka’s eyes flicker every which way, searching, hands twitching for his boomerang and his muscles tensing.
Then Zuko tosses on the bed, a strangled little gasp escaping his lips.
It takes Sokka’s mind a moment to make the connection over the sound of his heart thumping in his ears.
He curses the second it does.
“No, no, shit, Zuko,” he murmurs, climbing the bed and giving the empty, dark corners of the guest room one last glance. He resolutely doesn’t think about the letter he received just over a week ago and that has haunted some of his nightmares ever since, and shakes Zuko awake.
He tries to be gentle, but there isn’t any good way to wake Zuko from nightmares.
Zuko’s eyes fly open and he jostles. A choked little noise escapes him, and he stares in bewildered confusion at Sokka, a hazy sheen covering his eyes with something dark. Sokka exhales - that always feels like a punch on his stomach.
“Hey, it’s okay, I’m here,” Sokka shushes him when Zuko mouths his name. Zuko’s shoulders are trembling when Sokka pulls him into a hug, but his arms don't hesitate to wrap around Sokka, his fingers gripping the back of his shirt. Sokka tightens his hold on Zuko. “It’s alright.”
It’s the fifth anniversary since the end of the war. Zuko’s nightmares always get worse around this time.
And despite all the times he’s had to do this after all these years, Sokka still fucking sucks at comforting people. He never knows what he needs to do because apparently even the same people sometimes want different things.
Zuko is trembling in his arms, though, so Sokka presses him closer and just talks. He talks about the newest project he, Katara and Pakku were working on the South Pole before they had to leave. He talks about the improvements they’re making in the buildings, and of the first waterbender child born in the South Pole after so long - born from a Northerner family that moved south after the war, but Katara had still been ecstatic.
Slowly, he feels the tension leave Zuko’s frame, his shuddering breath evening out. He slumps against Sokka, who trails off.
He keeps drawing little patterns on Zuko’s back with his fingers until he pulls away. Sokka takes him in, the way his loose hair is a mess and how his golden eyes are staring at Sokka in that soft way that always leaves him warm inside, and Tui and La, Sokka had missed him.
“Hey,” he says, giving him a small smile.
Zuko mouths something back at him and stops. He opens his mouth again, but only a garbled noise comes out. He winces, putting a hand to his throat, and Sokka’s eyes widen when he sees the bandages wrapped around his hand.
He swallows, remembering that letter from last week.
“You lost your voice?” He asks, breathless all of a sudden. “Are you feeling- did someone- did you drink-”
Zuko shakes his head, but Sokka only has eyes for the white bandages.
“Are you sure? We should get a healer to check you. Katara- Katara is in the next room, I think.”
Sokka, Zuko mouths. I’m fine. I had-
Sokka doesn’t understand the rest of what he says. He fetches a piece of parchment and a pen when Zuko makes a writing motion.
I had a sore throat earlier today, he writes.
“Right,” Sokka says. “So you're sure it’s not…”
Zuko nods.
“Right,” Sokka repeats. He slumps against the headboard, running a hand down his face. When Zuko inches closer, his brow furrowed, Sokka lets out a mirthless laugh. “Sorry. I’m the one supposed to be comforting you, not the other way around.”
And Zuko still looks ragged, his dark circles highlighting the redness of his eyes even under the soft moonlight coming through the window.
Zuko gives him a judging look. He runs his thumb under one of Sokka’s eyes, and yeah, alright, Sokka gets his point.
He sighs. He can’t help but look at Zuko’s bandaged hand again. He presses a kiss to it, feeling Zuko's hand tremble, and before he knows it, they’re tangled in each other’s arms. Zuko’s lips rest against the skin of Sokka’s neck, sending a shiver down his spine, and he props his chin on Zuko’s head, breathing in his spicy but sweet smell. It comes from a Fire Nation hair lotion, but it’s familiar and so Zuko, and Sokka loves it.
“I'm so glad you're alright,” he says. “I mean, I knew you were alright, I got the message from the hawk not one day after I arrived at the South Pole, but I still...” He takes a deep breath, and the words come tumbling out. “I’m sorry.”
Zuko jerks away.
“Sokka, ” Zuko says in a strained whisper before dissolving into a coughing fit.
“Shit. Don’t try to talk.”
He goes after the pitcher of water he had left in the other room and fills a cup for Zuko.
Zuko drinks it, still scowling at Sokka over the cup. He makes a frustrated noise when he still can’t speak afterward.
“Take it easy,” Sokka murmurs.
Zuko struggles to find the parchment and the pen lost somewhere between the sheets. He brandishes the paper on Sokka’s face, and the words “NOT YOUR FAULT ” are underlined a few times.
“Pot, kettle, Mr. Fire-Lord-I-carry-the-sins-of-my-nation-alone.”
That’s different.
“Not that much.” But that was a conversation for another day when they weren’t both so tired and frustrated. And when they could both talk too. “I’m just, it's good to see you're alright.”
Zuko’s eyes soften. He cups Sokka’s cheeks and leans closer, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s reassurance and warmth, and Sokka melts against him, feeling a knot of tension in his chest unravel. He sighs against Zuko’s lips and pulls him closer.
“I missed you,” Sokka says after they part. He doesn’t get all the words Zuko mouths, but he understands that he was repeating the sentiment. “Do you want to talk about your nightmare?”
Zuko grimaces. He looks away for a few seconds. It was stupid.
"I bet it wasn't as silly as that dream I had about a pink hipo-elephant."
Zuko's mouth curls up at the memory, and Sokka grins back.
It's just. It was my father. Again. After the discussion I had with some of my ministers, I guess some things just came back to me.
"More Ozai supporters?" Sokka asks.
He hates the way Zuko's shoulders tense again. I think so. It seems the more of them we find, the more appear. I thought I was done weeding them out of my administration, but I guess not.
"Fuck."
Zuko nods with a wry grin.
“So, what, you had a yelling contest against them?"
More or less?
Sokka snorts. "How can you not know?"
It wasn’t that much yelling . Zuko shrugs. Just... long talks. Frustrating talks.
“I can imagine.” Sokka shakes his head. “I mean, I remember how loud you could be when chasing after us all around the world. You did a number on your voice this time.” He chuckles when Zuko rolls his eyes. "They didn't come to Ba Sing Se with you, did they?"
Zuko shakes his head. But we couldn't lock them up without further evidence on their standing. All I have is some unfortunate remarks here and there.
And Zuko didn't want to abuse his power and just go ahead and lock them up, even if leaving them unchecked for so long while Zuko went to this meeting was a receipt for a new scheme against him when he returned. "Then I'll go back to the Fire Nation with you when the meeting ends. Maybe it's time for the Gaang to make a new field trip."
You know you can't get too involved. The political uproar that would cause would be immense.
"Oh, but we won't get involved." Sokka grins at Zuko's confused look. "We'll just be there, visiting our friend, and if any assassins dare try anything, well. We can't be held accountable if we happen to be in the way. Nor if we happen to overhear any interesting conversations or find suspicious papers."
Zuko glares at him, but Sokka doesn't relent his smile until he makes another frustrated noise and mouths his name with an indignant expression.
"I know, okay? We'll be careful. But let us help you," Sokka says. He holds Zuko's hand, running his thumb softly over the bandages. "Let me help you, at least. I can't do nothing this time." He has had his share of keeping quiet and distant from this situation. He isn't about to leave his boyfriend to return home alone to an almost certain trap and wait until the next letter came, not knowing if it'll carry good or bad news. A court like the one of the Fire Nation is hard to clean, like Zuko often complains about, much less in a little time, but Sokka sure can try to gather as much information as possible at least. One of the perks of being the Water Tribe Ambassador in the Fire Nation is that people won't question him much if they see him wandering around. If the others join him - and Sokka thinks they will - then they can cover even more ground faster. And sure, they'll have to sit down and plan their steps carefully if they want to avoid any scandal, but it's achievable.
It won't be easy, but it'll be something.
Maybe Zuko can see some of that in Sokka's face because he pulls him in for a soft kiss.
We can talk more tomorrow. Zuko mouths. You need to sleep.
"You do too," Sokka says. "Do you think you'll be able to?"
Zuko hesitates. I don't know.
"I'll wake you up if you have another nightmare," Sokka says. He plants a kiss on Zuko’s temple, and revels in the small smile he gets in answer. "We can talk with Katara in the morning - she might be able to do something for your voice. It'll be better than not being able to talk during the meeting."
Definitely.
"I can already see it: the Fire Lord spits fire at a colleague after being ignored during the entire Four Nations annual meeting!"
Zuko swats at his shoulder, and Sokka laughs.
He considers changing out of his traveling clothes but deems it as too much work as Zuko burrows against him. He pulls the sheets over them, and soon they’re both asleep.