Work Text:
Aang’s Blue Spirit friend (who the fuck calls themselves a fucking spirit anyways?) is a weirdo. A big gigantic weirdo and totally not cool at all with his damned katanas strapped to his back (and who the fuck still uses katanas anyways?) and his damned gold rhino pistol. Who does this guy even think he is?
It’s a testament to Aang’s choice of friends and that is a little worrying because Sokka is Aang’s friend and doesn’t that say something about Sokka?
A bullet whizzes by his nose and fuuuuuuuuuuuck.
In hindsight, perhaps a duck would have been a better idea than to turn to the initial position of where that bullet came from, feet stuck to the floor in fright. It’s kind of too late he thinks.
Goodbye, cruel world.
He hears it before he sees it, the shot of a gun. He doesn’t even have the time to close his eyes so he can’t witness his own death. In the breath of a hair he sees those damned katanas, a shock of blood red stone, and the bullet that was gunning for him ricochets away.
Sokka stares at the Blue Spirit, mouth hanging open and before he knows it, he’s being yanked away by the scruff of his neck. No need to tell him twice. They run.
In Sokka’s defence, he is a much faster runner than what he is performing right now. Please believe him. It’s just the air here. Fuck, it stinks. He tries to breathe in and out through his mouth.
There’s a bit of a flurry. Clearly this Blue Spirit guy is experienced in the art form of being chased by multiples murderers. He’s slipping through the crowds with ease, light on his feet and the sea of people part a pathway for him like he’s Jesus Christ of Earth-1; zero anno Domini. Sokka on the other hand is more like a pinball, bouncing off citizens left, right and centre.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Sokka apologises as he pushes forward, trying to follow the back of the Blue Spirit.
And finally, finally. Sokka would never have thought he’d be so happy to see the Spirit’s Franken-Craft. If he survives running the distance between here and there he promises he’ll start calling the spacecraft by its actual name.
Le Divinita, please let him survive this.
There’s the sound of bullets whizzing pass him again and Sokka ducks. He sees the Blue Spirit stop and turn around, running towards Sokka while unsheathing his katanas. The swords glow deadly in the hour of sundown and the Blue Spirit looks near impossible in the shadows.
“Are you crazy? The ship’s that-a-way,” Sokka points at Franken-Craft but the Blue Spirit runs towards the men who want to land a bullet in their thick skulls. He stops running back when he reaches Sokka.
Sokka side-eyes the guy and hears a bullet bounce off a sword. He runs faster. Oh, Tui and La.
They make it. They make it and Sokka kisses the metal floor and the Blue Spirit is piloting them away from this shitty planet with all their shitty planetary guard and pirates and their shitty rotten-egg air.
“You and I,” Sokka says from the floor. “We kinda make a good team.”
If the Blue Spirit could talk, Sokka thought, he’d think he’d agree.
%%%
He’s eating a yakitori, three sticks in each hand and walks up to where the Blue Spirit, stiff and uncomfortable with a stick up his ass, and Aang, simple and airheaded and childish, are probably discussing funds. They’re standing in a nondescript corner of the Gate Keeper’s Inn where it’s dark and smoky with tobacco (thank God for that, he’s a walking, talking garbage dump at that moment) and the blues is just a little on the loud side.
Sokka watches the Spirit Guy take a puff of an E-Cig before writing down something onto his Info-Pad and Sokka peers over his shoulder a little to look at what is said.
1000 extra credits for not telling me the target is a useless cretin.
“Hey!” Sokka says, offended. He watches the Blue Spirit jerk violently and pulls an arm to throw a punch at... “Fuck,” Sokka dodges a fist just in time. “What the fuck was that?”
The Blue Spirit has his hands on the front of Sokka’s shirt and pulls him. “Watch the food,” Sokka warns and tries to get an elbow somewhere between their scuffle. No way is he dropping his yakitori for a fight. Blue Spirit Guy growls at him and Sokka can smell the spices from the E-Cig on his breath, gross but also nice.
“Hey, why don’t we all just chill?” Aang interjects and puts himself between them. Aang’s a head shorter than the them both so a shove to Sokka is received from the Blue Spirit.
“What the fuck man?”
The Blue Spirit just shakes his head, body shivering with… what even is he supposed to be shivering with anyways? Sokka’s done nothing. He takes a bite of a chicken to soothe his annoyance.
Aang and Sokka get an Info-Pad shoved at them. Sokka stares at the words.
5000 extra credits.
“Oh uh, well..” Aang begins and scratches the back of his head. He twiddles his thumb and looks guiltily away at both Sokka and the Blue Spirit.
“What did you do, Aang?” Sokka questions.
“Well…”
Turns out Aang should not be trusted with credits. Not like it’s that shocking. Aang did once spent his entire month’s earning on trying to build an integrated slide system in APPA 2. Needless to say that that half-assed plan did not go so well.
There was also those three times Aang dropped half his savings just to go to Earth-2 and hang glide The Remarkables. Sokka groans.
He’ll need to tell Iroh to leave the responsibility to Katara. God, if he were to be in charge, it’s A-Grade wagyu for the entire crew!
How much do you have left, Avatar?
“Uhhh,” Aang verbalises and the Blue Spirits grabs at the boy. Sokka thinks about helping but Aang kind of deserves it, dropping three chips on a present for Katara? Mental.
The Blue Spirit snarls and drops Aang. I don’t have time for your stupidity. Just tell me.
“I’ve got only 8 chips left.” Aang’s doing that puppy eye thing he does that tends to sway Katara and Uncle Iroh and almost everybody else except Master Pakku, Toph and himself. He wonders if it’ll work on Spirit Guy too.
Then I will hold onto the cretin until I get what is stipulated in our contract. Ping me on the P-Comms.
Wait what?
And before he even knows it, he’s being pulled up the gangplank of the Franken-Craft Dragon 2 and warps to Agni knows where.
%%%
“Do you have food aboard?” Sokka says from his position on the floor. The control deck is only made for one crew member and so Sokka’s gotta make do somehow. “I’m hungry.”
His captor steadfastly ignores him.
“You should probably upgrade your comms, you know?” It worries him that the Dragon 2 has only P-Comms, tech about a quarter of the decade old. Sokka goes to stand behind the Blue Spirit. He looks over his shoulder to the interstellar maps. “M31? Do you live there or something?”
The Blue Spirit makes a noise. Sokka thinks he can differentiate the meaning behind these noises now. This one is definitely giving Sokka a ‘you’re annoying me’ vibe.
The Blue Spirit sighs and gets up from his seat. Sokka has to shuffle back a little to get out of his way. “Where are you going?”
He follows the Blue Spirit to a strip of a wall that he guesses is the kitchen. He gets some warm fried rice and a spoon shoved at him. “Uh, thanks,” he says and walks down the hall a few meters before the Blue Spirit pulls a bed out from the wall. It’s a tight fit, Sokka kind of feels bad for giving the guy flack for his shitty spacecraft.
He knew it was small but not this small.
Spirit Guy points to the bed and walks away to take some clothes from one of the south wall before heading to what Sokka can only assume is the bathroom. Sokka sighs, sits on the futon and looks down at the tupperware in his hands. He’s not so sure if he’s hungry anymore.
With hair dripping wet and mask still tucked tightly in place, Blue Spirit presents Sokka neatly folded clothes and points down the hall. Sokka kind of stares at the domesticity of it all.
Spirit Guy is in a simple oversized white tee and grey tracks. So, he’s small and pale underneath all that nemourlon, huh? At least he’s still the same stiff and uptight weirdo even in civvies.
Sokka observes for a few more moments and notes multiple age old, angry-red burn splotches that appear on one side of Blue Spirit’s neck and features down to his left arm and hand. A thickened long scar is also present, carved across his throat and Sokka blushes after catching himself staring at it for too long. His fingers twitch in want to run his hand across the roughened skin of his neck.
He quickly takes the clothes from Spirit Guy and mumbles his thanks.
%%%
After showering and wearing clothes a size or two too small, Sokka feels a little more comfortable and clean. He did just come back from being kidnapped by pirates and now he’s back to being re-kidnapped by a space cowboy. It’s a testament to his luck, really.
“My name’s Sokka,” he introduces as he lays on the stiff bed, staring up at the flashing red light up on the ceiling. The Blue Spirit is resting on the floor just a few meters away from him with a measly sleeping bag. He can’t see if Spirit Guy is smoking or not but he can smell its distinct taste in the air.
The silence answers back at him.
In the dark, he kind of misses Katara.
And Aang.
And Toph.
%%%
He awakens to a noise. A sort of chugging chugging, clunking clunking sort of sound that surely screams GUYS I’M BREAKING DOWN!
The emergency lights are turned on and Sokka can see the hatch towards the engines open and the Blue Spirit missing. He groans and scrubs at his face. Kami, what did he ever do to deserve this? Is it too much to ask to please let him rest for at least eight hours?
The clunking and chugging continue and Sokka groans again and rolls off the bed, literally. He considers just rolling his way down the hallway towards the hatch but decides otherwise. It’ll probably be more effort anyways.
He gets up to head down to the engine bay and jumps down the last few rungs to lands with a thwump. It’s dark down in the bay and the reds of the lights don’t do much for Sokka’s sight. He spots a beam of light to his left and spends a few seconds watching the spirit dig into his toolbox for a space wrench, watches the E-Cig in his mouth turn around and round and puffs of smoke curl around the guy like a halo.
Spirit Guy pokes his head between the large metal structures.
“Gee,” Sokka announces in lieu of a greeting and treads down the metal walkway, “you really do wear that thing all the time.”
The Blue Spirit jerks and Sokka winces on the thump of a head hitting metal. Ouch.
He’s pulling his best ‘I’m sorry’ face without actually apologising. “What’s happened?”
The spirit huffs in frustration and throws his wrench into the clumps of pipework. It clutters and falls down to the level below them, the level not meant for crewmen to stand on. “Well, consider that wrench gone forever. What’s wrong?”
There’s a flurry of movements from the spirit’s hands and he must be signing something because those patterns are too practiced and complex to be random. It’s kind of endearing.
Sokka sighs. He guesses he’s not the only tired one on this Agni forsaken spacecraft.
“Here,” Sokka utters and takes the headlight from the spirit’s head. He runs his hands through the guy’s hair and it’s soft and smooth and his scalp is warm and it’s the first solid evidence to remind Sokka that this spirit is human. “Let me see.”
He spots the problem almost immediately. A crack in the arc heater that a rapid prototyping machine can easily solve. He gets to fixing. And talking. Mainly talking and mostly fixing.
The Blue Spirit is next to him, loudly watching in his own strange way.
It’s clear that Dragon 2 is a mixture of whatever space junk Spirit Guy found. It’s impressive he’s managed to string together a cohesive system for the spacecraft to fly. He’s definitely skilled. Sokka wonders if the Blue Spirit is testing his capability in mechanics.
“… and I mean it was really Katara’s fault I got kidnapped. I mean, I wasn’t the one who stole the Ira scroll.”
Somehow the story of the pirates turns into his time crushing figuratively and literally on Princess Yue of Moon System 5 and that earns a chuckle from his captor. Even not saying anything it’s clear that Blue Spirit is very animated. He scowls and groans and barks out broken laughter at appropriate times and Sokka spares him a glance the first time he’s heard it.
Spirit Guy is much more relaxed now, sitting crossed legs and picking at a loose thread on his trackies. For the millionth time Sokka wonders whose face Blue Spirit wears underneath that mask, whose name Sokka should call from his tongue.
He’s in the middle of an account where he’s sucking frozen frogs in a temple and Blue Spirit is laughing but he stutters and air seems hard to come by.
“Oh shit,” Sokka swears and drops the screwdriver to slap him on the back. For a moment he thinks of taking away that stupid mask and he almost does it too but he stops half way. Lets his arms fall to his side. “You good?”
He gets a nod from his companion and being this close, Sokka chances a look into Spirit Guy’s eyes. Gold. He pulls back, quickly pretends he never saw. Surely a trick of the light.
The urge to know comes again, stronger than ever. He runs his fingers across jagged skin across the Blue Spirit’s throat, frowning. The boy before him stiffens but doesn’t react, frozen; apprehensive perhaps.
He hears the sound of the broken laughter he’s been familiarising himself with in the past few hours bubble up again. Sokka drops his hands, “still laughing about those darn frozen frogs in my mouth, huh?” he asks and goes back to working on that arc heater. “Wait until you hear what I saw when I was on cactus juice.”
The laughter stops. Then picks up again.
A smile tickles Sokka’s mouth for the rest of the night.
By the time the clunking stops it’s 0400 UG hours and Sokka falls face first onto the futon.
He’s out before his next breath.
%%%
He dreams of Katara’s shrieking voice telling him to wake up. “Get up, Sokka! Not all of us have the time of day to be spending ten minutes waking you up.” Even when kidnapped he cannot escape Katara’s incredible nagging.
Someone is tugging at his feet; someone is pulling at his blanket. “Leafmealone,” he mumbles and tries to turn over.
“Up, Sokka,” he hears and he shoots up from the bed. He blinks rapidly to get the sleep out of his eyes and Katara’s face swims before him.
“Katara!” He yells and dives to hug his sister. “What – what are you doing here? Am I dead? Is this real?”
He lets her go and she smiles softly at him, pinches his arms. “Owwwww.”
“I’ve missed you too,” she says and rubs along the length of his arm. “Come on, you’re home now.”
“Has Aang managed to gather the funds to pay the Blue Spirit?”
“Not really,” Katara says and stares at the entry way of Dragon 2. “He just came back and told Aang to give him the 8000 credits. And well, now we’re here. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
Sokka shakes his head, feeling offended for his captor. “No, no.”
They come off the gangplank and Aang rushes him into a bear hug. “Hi, Sokka. Hi,” he greets breathlessly. “I’m so happy you’re back.”
It’s kind of surreal he feels. He should be happy, ecstatic to be released but he just feels… disappointed. He wonders if it’s Stockholm Syndrome. It probably is.
“Here I thought I could have a few more days of peace and quiet,” Toph says by way of welcoming him back. He also gets a punch in the stomach from the small badger-mole.
They turn around to see the gangplank receding into the ship and Sokka yells, “wait!”
He jumps onto the gangplank, using his arms to push himself up the rest of the way and jogs to where Spirit Guy stands. “Thank you,” he says and holds out his hand. “For saving me.”
They shake hands and he smiles brightly at the guy before turning to jump back down.
“Zuko,” a raspy voice utters and Sokka freezes.
He turns around, still smiling.
“Thank you, Zuko.”
The name feels right on his tongue.