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Another burning sensation fired its way, white-hot, up and down Azula's body. It was as if she'd accidently set her own body aflame. She clutched her blankets tightly and bit her cheek, so not to cry out.

Her skin felt moist and clammy, her strength seeming to trickle out with each bead of sweat—leaving her with a contradicting cold sensation. A feeling of emptiness, as if her own flame was flickering out. Slowly and agonizingly.

Despite her best efforts, a small whimper slid through her parted lips.

It didn't matter.

No one was around to hear it.

She couldn't risk the company. All of the others had been taken away. Shipped to an island some ways away from the Fire Nation mainland. The island of the sick…the diseased.

Rich and poor alike, they were removed from their homes and whisked away from their old lives.

Quarantined.

The recently created council justified it by declaring as state of public emergency…world-wide public emergency. And apocalypse of sorts.

No one knew what caused it, how it spread, nor which land it came from.

Most believed that it originated in the spirit world—some going as far as pointing fingers at Aang, claiming the boy bought the virus home with him. For that he was left in hiding just as secret as Azula.

There were only two things known about this virus; It only seemed to manifest in benders (no element affected less than the next) and that not even the best herbs and healers could drive the germs out.

She wouldn't do it. She wouldn't let them lock her up again. Not so soon after being freed from the asylum. Not after hearing rumors of how people were treated in quarantine. They were poked and pricked, sliced open and experimented on. And those who weren't were simply left to rot, neglected and suffering.

Azula wasn't doing much better but at least she had her own comfy bed, three meals a day (when her stomach could handle it), and clean clothing when she felt like changing—she hadn't felt like changing in about four days. She was simply to tired and too weak. Standing always made her feel dizzy, sometimes to the point she'd fall right back onto the bed.

Not a soul came to visit her.

Despite making amends with most of the people she'd once hated…who'd once hated her. They were simply too afraid, no one wanted to catch the disease. This perhaps left her lonelier than ever, at least when they were afraid Azula herself they'd still come around trying to help her change.

She felt a jabbing behind her eyes. Really it was more of a stabbing, like someone was jamming their fingers deep into her eye sockets. She rolled onto her side, gripping her head tighter and tighter still until the sensation hummed away.

And yet it was never that easy. Right after a new feeling would jolt to the surface, replacing its precedent.

This new one worse than the first.

A sort of pressure struck down on the middle of her neck, adding a sense of distress to her windpipe.

Drawing air quickly becoming a chore. Something Azula had to think about to do. Eventually, even with her strongest focus she found herself unable to even sneak a breath. Her eyes grew wide as she clawed at her throat, mentally pleading with for her airway to open itself up again.

She heard a soft knock one her door.

Dinner.

Some kind of meat with pepper spice.

Azula dropped to her knees, her vision developing blurs and spots, her eyes couldn't find focus on any one thing anyhow. What few sounds she heard sounded as if they were made underwater.

She recalled with unusual clarity a time long before she fell ill. Long before she'd even learned to talk properly. She could see it in her mind's eye; the first time she'd ever felt fire stir within her body. The first time she'd felt brilliant blue flame dance on her fingertips. A child-mind churning with joy, her soul brimming with pride. It felt right.

And then the memory was gone entirely.

With it, something else seemed to have faded.

A coldness invited itself into Azula's very core. A coldness that no firebender should ever feel…

She couldn't feel her hands. Couldn't feel anything.

She sunk down from her knees to the floor, body meeting the carpet with a cool thud. If the illness didn't whisk her out of consciousness, that sure would have.

Azula's eyes fell on the door swinging open. Apparently the last sight the princess would see was the glory and splendor of Firelord Zuko's pointy ass shoes.

I can surly go in peace now. Azula thought to herself as she fell away.

A little over an hour carried itself out and Azula still found herself dizzy and queasy with fear. At some point she could swear she heard Zuko knocking…or someone. She couldn't bring herself to answer it, not when she was so close to tears.

She'd been holding them back since she fell ill.

The physical pain was taxing and sob-worthy—she could bite those tears back and brush it off, convincing herself that she'd been through worse. But this…this was something she'd dreaded since learning Aang had the ability to take bending. There was no brushing it off, no ignoring it.

Her mind wandered to places she never wished it to go. Circling mostly around what would happen if her father got out of prison. He would be ashamed. He'd tell Azula that she was a disgrace…a bigger embarrassment to the Fire Nation than Zuko ever was.

It was an impossible situation, she knew. But that didn't make her feel any less queasy. Didn't stop her from calling herself an assortment of unkind things. Most anything she imagined Ozai calling her she'd already slapped on herself.

That was how Azula found herself trembling and weeping softly. Somehow unable to manage an all-out cry even when completely alone and unwatched. Her tears only served to reinforce her thinking; that she was weak…useless.

Azula could feel herself breaking again, this time it wouldn't be a lie told to the public to protect her.

She heard another knock at the door. She knew he'd force his way in eventually if she didn't unlock the door. So she'd settle for buying herself sometime to regain composure. "Just give me a minute Zu Zu." Azula called throwing her best efforts into keeping her voice level—uncracking and not trembling. She could only assume it worked since her brother hadn't yet kicked the door in.

Quickly she wiped the tears from her eyes. Taking in shaky, uneven breaths in an attempt to keep the tears from coming back. Azula then directed her attention to her appearance. Messy hair and tired eyes just weren't going to cut it.

"Azula, I'm coming in…" Zuko informed.

"No. You're staying out there until I tell you to come in." Azula hollered, mentally thankful that annoyance was taking the place of sorrow and self-pity.

"Azula…"

"I'm fine Zu Zu."

She quickly bought a brush to her hair; she wasn't going to have time to put it in her usual updo. especially since she had to work on covering the red blotchy tear-tracks running down her cheeks. Makeup would do…and it wouldn't hurt to put on her lipstick either.

Azula then moved to her closet and pulled out something that wasn't wrinkled. She had her robe untied and slipping slightly off of her shoulder when Zuko decided it was time to barge in.

His face went completely red.

"I told you. I wasn't ready." Azula half-spoke, half-growled.

"I...how was I…you didn't tell me you were changing!"

She tugged her robe back on and tied it up again. "I shouldn't have had to…" She trailed off. "Anyways, exactly what is so dire that you had to kick the door in?"

"I don't know. It's just that you've been up here in your room all day."

"And I said I was fine didn't I?"

"That doesn't mean…"

She cut him off. "I look fine, do I not?"

Zuko gave her a brief glace. Aside from the rumpled clothing and a few tangled strands of hair he couldn't really detect anything in particular. "Yes, you look alright. Sorry for—" He motioned to the door, still standing wide open. "Might as well tell you that dinner's ready. How was it to bend again after such a long while?"

A knot formed its self in Azula's belly. "Fine. It went fine. Nothing…out of the ordinary."

"Fire still blue?"

"Yeah…" Azula muttered, swallowing a woeful lump that formed in her throat. "Same way it's always been." She added much softer than she had intended.

"That's great news." Zuko smiled. "Perhaps we can practice together or something."

"No." Azula answered abruptly.

"I thought that you and I patched things up."

"We did." Azula shrugged. "I simply like to practice alone."

Dinner was a distraction enough to keep Azula's mind and emotions at bay. She did her best to lead any and all conversation away from bending, and fire, and bending fire. Which was a pain in the ass since all Zuko wanted to do was tell her about how he learned some new techniques…and moreover that he wanted to teach them to her.

She had to muster up a round of fake enthusiasm. Telling him she'd love to when she felt less tired.

She never did feel 'less tired'.

As the next few days passed Azula continued trying to—without gratification—bend again.

Each day seemed to leave her more frustrated and mentally exhausted than the next. On one occasion she let herself drop to the ground, drawing her knees up close to her chest. At this point Azula simply couldn't be bothered to cry. But she was still left with a bitter taste on her tongue and a nagging in her head telling her that she didn't deserve to be a part of the royal fire family anymore.

She knew it was hopeless but she'd drag herself out of bed and try again anyways. At this point, mostly to keep Zuko from asking questions. And whenever he came to check on her she'd say that she was just taking a break or that she was working on her forms and stances as opposed to actually bending. Because "stances are just as important as the bending itself."

Today was no different. She rolled herself out of bed, tossed on her something decent, and made her way to the courtyard.

This time Zuko decided he wanted to join her. And there was really no convincing him otherwise. He decided that even if she didn't want to practice with her…well he'd just use the other side of the yard to do so by himself.

So Azula reluctantly agreed to letting him join her.

Secretly hoping to herself that with the extra pressure she'd be able to squeeze out a flame or two.

"Alright, so Aang and I found this village one time…"

Azula wasn't really listening. Too much white noise was buzzing around in her head. Among that white noise she was thinking up excuses and reasons as to why she wasn't able to bend at the moment.

She watched Zuko drop into some sort of bending stance.

"You ready?" Zuko asked. "This form really isn't that hard to master."

"I wasn't paying attention…my apologies." Azula admitted. It wasn't a lie. "I'm not ready to learn any new forms Zu Zu, I just woke up." She paused. "If you don't mind letting me…warm up first." She waved him off.

"I don't mind."

"Good."

He however, didn't leave her side. Apparently this warm up was also going to be a brother-sister activity.

Azula took a deep breath, she had to do it this time. She had to…

She glanced over at Zuko before—like the first time—dropping into her lightningbending stance.

She began charging her would-be attack; arching her hands above her head, and then throwing them behind her and thrusting her forward.

Nothing.

"Azula…" Zuko started.

Azula tried again, and again, and again each time with more ferocity. Zuko calling out to her with every attempt. Finally his hand snaked out and caught hers.

She let out a frustrated scream before tearing her arm from his grip and trying yet again…and then once more.

In a burst of helpless anger she threw her foot to the ground.

With it, a boulder sprung from the ground. Not knowing what to do with it, Azula let it fall back to the ground.

The silence to follow was thick and tense.

Had she done that?

The aghast look Zuko gave her seemed to say that she had.

She found her body shaking again, but what emotion was behind it was lost on her. Fear, shock…excitement? A mix of all three. Azula couldn't tell.

She dropped to her knees examining the small crater she had created.

The heavy feeling set in again, coming on weightier than ever.

A thought briefly fluttered through her head; I can still bend, I can earthbend.

Azula toppled forward.

The councilman stood silent for a moment. "Exactly how do you expect me to know where patient zero is now.

"The same way you found out about everything else."

"What need have you to talk to patient zero?"

Azula shrugged, truth be told she did really have a reason. She simply wanted to do so—another curiosity. Perhaps the boy could shed some more light on the nature of the virus.

"Well I'm sorry to disappoint Fire Lord Azula, but I haven't the slightest idea of his whereabouts." The councilman replied. "You'll just have to track him down on your own."

"Right." Azula muttered. She turned her back to the man and took to the door.

"And Princess…Fire Lord…" He called.

Azula spared a glance over her shoulder.

"Don't get yourself into trouble you won't be able to get yourself out of."

"Is that a threat?" Azula questioned.

"It's merely a warning." The councilman replied. "The BSEH, they're a tricky bunch. For all the good they do…they do it with a price. They are an organization of people whose…quests for knowledge come before the good of individuals. That is to say, they'll make test subjects of anyone who crosses them."

Azula drummed her nails lightly against her chin. "Interesting information indeed, but what do I need it for?"

"You tell me, Fire Lord. Are you going to get yourself involved with them in an attempt to find patient zero? Do they have a reason to seek you out?"

"Do they?" Azula returned the question, wondering just how much the man knew of her condition. Nothing, he couldn't possibly know anything. She decided. It was just a casual question, a natural follow up to her own.

And yet she couldn't seem to shake the unsettling feeling. It was all in her head.

It always was.

"Let's hope not. For your sake." He dropped into a slight bow. "Good luck, Fire Lord."

Azula nodded.

Zuko lie staring up at a ceiling that seemed to pulse and spin. He was growing bored, he'd never been completely bed bound for such a long time. But whenever he tried to get up he'd be sent back down in a dizzying wave.

And it only seemed to be getting worse as the days slid by. At first he had been able to sit and stand and walk around—despite Mai cautioning against it. Now a simple turn of his head could set the world spinning.

After the sensation passed, he found himself overtaken by fatigue. His boredom only feeding into his tiredness.

Zuko came to fear that one day he would shut his eyes and wouldn't have the energy to open them again, as the virus continued to run rampant in his body. He shivered against the cold working its way into his limbs…thankful for the painful nipping feeling that kept him awake.

Mai sat across the room talking to him, but her words seemed so far off, as if she were speaking underwater.

She stood and walked out the door, likely to get him supper.

He was now left with his melancholy thoughts…the only two things he could focus on were either the dizziness or the frigidness. Neither was a desirable option. At least when Mai was around he could focus on trying to make out her muffled mumbles.

Moments later the door opened once more. The smell of cooked meat tingling at his nose. Part of him wanted to take the steaming meal and place it on his forehead…anything to ease the cold. Thoughtlessly Zuko started to do just that.

"You really are sick aren't you dum dum." Azula rolled her eyes.

Immediately Zuko dropped the meat back onto the plate. He couldn't make out her words any more than Mai's but he'd know that voice anywhere, and the last thing he wanted was to give her another thing to tease him about.

"I do hope I didn't do anything that embarrassing when I was sick."

Zuko sat up—all to quickly at that—his body pitching to the side. He felt arms wrap around his body, the only thing keeping his head from cracking against the floor and from losing the last bit of sense he had with it.

Azula heaved him up against the bed frame, into as sturdy a position as she could get him. His head rocking feverishly drunk from side to side. She slowly withdrew her hold on him…cautiously as if she were trying to balance something precious on an unsteady surface.

"Zu Zu, if you can find it within yourself to focus for just a moment…"

He blinked at her thrice trying to find the real Azula among a few blurry tunnel-vision versions of her. "Believe me, I'm trying." He uttered.

He flopped back down onto the bed.

She watched his body clumsily fall, the unease twisting knots in her belly again. One in two live. What if she one morning found herself without brother…and just when they were getting along too.

"There's something I'd like to ask you." Azula prompted, hoping for some sort of muffled response. Her brother offered none.

"Zu Zu." She gave his shoulder a somewhat rough jab. "Zu Zu." And anther this time more forcefully. "Zuko…"

She turned his limp body to look up at her.

His stare was cold and glazed over…

Vacant.

Azula couldn't quite be sure for how long she sat there staring at Zuko's cold body. Her mind went numb hours back. She held him close hoping to feel some slight form of movement, hear a soft release of breath, any sign of life.

She hadn't felt even a twitch from her brother.

She brushed a sweep of hair off of his forehead, simultaneously closing his eyes. And then she was still again. Somehow convincing herself that he'd wake up sometime soon.

Another passing hour left her with nothing but despair, facts becoming undeniable even through blur of denial and skillfully crafted, self-told lies. No one could lay in one position for that long without being dead. Azula knew it.

She also knew that it was her fault he was dead. In another time…another place she would have rejoiced in his departure. This clearly wasn't that other time. She didn't really want to be Fire Lord anymore—not at the price the crown came with.

No.

Azula wanted her older brother. She wanted someone to tease and mock. She wanted someone to fight with over stupid things and get over it within the hour. She wanted someone to advise and boss around, and lecture for what she thought, stupid political moves.

It was her fault she thought again.

Her fault.

If she didn't get sick…or at the very least if she had told him to stay out of her room as she usually did, than he wouldn't have caught the virus at all.

She did it. She killed her brother.

Azula tugged Zuko closer to her body and let out a first strangled sob. Her head dipping forward—suddenly too heavy with grief for her to hold up. Her grip on Zuko's robe tightened as she let out another cry.

This meltdown was long overdue, Azula knew this. She held the tears back when she fell ill. She held them back—mostly—when she'd lost her mind, when she'd lost her bending, when the stresses of being Fire Lord that Zuko used to speak of hit too hard.

With Zuko still and ridged in her arms all of the losses just sprang forward at once.

Still slouching over Zuko, she rocked herself back and forth rhythmically—a self-soothing habit she'd picked up some time back. A habit that seemed to only loosely work. Between each erratic hitched cry she found herself asking Zuko to wake up. Before collapsing into an all-out bawl, still rocking Zuko's body and her own.

No bending.

No Zuko.

No sanity.

Only guilt. Only loss.

She didn't realize had fallen into a series of screams until she heard footsteps beating frantically down the hall. By which time it was too late to muffle them…to silence or compose herself.

Her throat felt raw and torn. The screams and cries seemed to literally rip at her throat.

And yet she continued to abuse it in such an uncharacteristic way. There really was no point in trying to save her own dignity at this point.

She bought her rocking to a stop and simply let body fall to the side as limply as Zuko's to the ground.

That was how Mai found Azula; staring off at nothing, eyes still water-fuzzy and red—not crying but not absent of tears either. Her cheeks blotched with red messy tear-tracks and spindly lines of running makeup.

And in her arms, lie Zuko—in a grip so tight her nails had dug into his forearm, leaving four thin trails of blood.

Azula sat herself upright prompting Mai to reach out and gently try to tug her away from Zuko.

"I killed him." She whispered.

"That's not true. He could have caught it from anyone…" Mai started, she tried again to shake Zuko out of Azula's surprisingly strong hold. "Azula please let go of him."

Her grip tightened. The more Mai tried to break her clutch, the tighter the princess seemed to cling.

Mai tried for a different approach. "This is really out of my comfort zone you know…" she put an arm around Azula. "I'm not good at this whole comfort thing." Especially when I could use some of it myself. She held her tongue…and her own tears. It finally set in; Her (once again) mentally broken friend was holding her dead fiancé.

More footsteps sounded from with down the halls, they—guards Azula realized— came to a stop just as she muttered another "it's my fault, I killed him."

One of the guards scowled. He tugged Azula up by the wrist in a bruising grip…rather he tried to; she heaved all of her weight forward sending both of them tumbling to the floor in a heap, all the while her grip on Zuko kept firm.

Two more guards surged forward, together the three hoisted the princess off the ground. Between her kicking and flailing it took yet another guard to actually get her to release her hold on Zuko, Mai catching his body before it could hit the floor.

They took her away—at first—kicking and screaming. She then tried slumping to the floor again (still screaming) in some sort of passive resistance.

"We can't just drag her." Azula heard one guard say.

"She isn't giving us a choice now is she." Responded. "And besides, you heard her, she assassinated the Fire Lord."

"Sir Wong, what are we going to do with him?" Asked another.

Wong replied, "we'll cremate him at dusk three days from tomorrow."

OooO00OooO

He heard the whole thing unfold.

It was such a messy scene…or at least he could assume it was. The last time he'd seen…heard Azula cry like that, it certainly wasn't pretty.

She was asking him to wake up. To say something, to do something.

And he wanted to. He wanted to say something, to tell her she was right, that he was still there. But his lips wouldn't part, his eyes wouldn't open. Not even a slight muscle jerk.

He thought Azula's cries were the most nerve-wracking…that was until she started screaming. After a while of it, he could hear the pain in her shrieks. He wanted to tell her to stop, to tell her not to hurt herself. His mouth had other plans.

The rest of it was hard to make out. It was some sort of struggle.

He wanted to help. But he couldn't move, not an inch.

She fell on top of him, sending another sharp stab of pain that complimented the throbbing in his forearm. He wouldn't be coming out of this one unbruised. He fought off a wave of anger, repeating over and over again that his sister thought he was dead…she'd be more careful otherwise.

It shouldn't have been that hard to keep his anger at bay…and yet…

For a brief moment he was glad he was completely paralyzed.

He felt his body fall to the floor. Heard them say they'd be dragging his sister a way.

And now they were going to cremate him…

And he couldn't do anything. Some Fire Lord he is.

OooO00OooO

They threw Azula to the ground, not that she wasn't too far from it already. She sat there on her knees as the cell door slammed shut. The sound of metal scrapping metal and shrill pain to her ears.

Her knees pulsed painfully, feeling just as raw as her throat. She should have accepted defeat and stood—but she just had to give them as much hell as she could. Of course the satisfaction was short-term, she'd only truly hurt herself in letting them drag her all the way to the prison.

Azula brought her hands to her scrapped and bloodied knees, doing her best to pick out the small pebbles and debris. She sent up a quick prayer that they would not grow infected…that the guards would have the decency to come back and cleanse the scrape.

After mentally scolding herself for bringing about her own physical pain she started chastising herself for not telling the guards she didn't assassinate her brother…not on purpose anyways.

On top of it all, Azula was overtaken with a strong aversion to let them cremate her brother—even though it was an honorary custom she knew he have wanted—and she could do nothing about it.

Azula gave the cell bars an frustrated and furious shake, knowing too well that they weren't going to move. She slammed her fist on them again anyways.

With nothing else to do she crawled into the corner of her cell, pulled her knees close to her body, buried her face in her palms, and resumed her body-trembling sobs.

The feeling of complete hopelessness lasted for maybe ten minutes before Azula got a grip on herself. She looked from her hands to the bars and to her hands again.

Why hadn't she thought of that earlier? Azula slowly curled her fingers around the bars. She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling of the metal beneath her fingers—smooth and cold. And all too sturdy. She gave the bars a tug, trying to pry them away from one another.

They refused to give way, even a little.

Who was Azula kidding, she couldn't metalbend. Of course she couldn't. She didn't even know how to earthbend yet…

She had a lot of natural skill and in many areas, apparently, earthbending was not one of those areas.

She scowled, her sorrow sourly overtaken by anger and annoyance. She'd have rather been a waterbender. Rocks and metal were as stubborn as their wielders; the rocks and metal bars…they knew she wasn't one of them. Wasn't a true earthbender and so they refused to do her bidding. Of course they would refuse.

Azula knew she hadn't much time to work with the bars either, given that Zuko only had a few days. She slapped her palms against her forehead, reminding herself that he didn't have any days left and that she should stop lying to herself.

She could lie well, but not that good.

She drummed her fingers on the metal, listening to the soft sound left by her long tapping nails. Azula sighed, how hard could it possibly be to learn to work with the metal? She questioned herself before deciding to give it another try.

This time, instead of trying to pry the bars apart, Azula tried to shove them forward as she had with the small rock earlier on. The only success she had, was moving (probably) the smallest pebble that some solider had tracked into the prison hallway.

She let out a frustrated groan and punched the bar. This time—despite her subconscious wishful thinking—her anger didn't fuel her earthbending any.

Azula sat back down and racked her hand though her tousled hair…really, what was the urgency anyways? He was already dead and she knew it. Instead of worrying over the fate of a lifeless corpse she should be worrying about her own. She had been accused of treason…not just treason but assassination. And in the name of trying to steal the crown for herself.

If she didn't figure something out her body would be just as limp as Zuko's and she wouldn't even be given the honor of a cremation; they'd probably just leave her corpse to decay in some dungeon.

Night indicated itself with a sweeping wave of unwelcomed chilly air. Azula had always heard that the seasons practically changed temperature-wise within the prisons. The exaggeration didn't seem that far off to Azula.

She wrapped her arms around her small, trembling form. She suddenly found herself aware of how flimsy and thin the cloth of her prison uniform was. What didn't help at all was that her they'd run out of uniforms in her size and decided—instead of finding her a pair of fitting prison pants—to stick her in a prison shirt a size or two too big that fit like a dress falling just above her knees.

Her exposed arms and legs seemed to be taking the worst of the chill. Azula rubbed her arms up and down them, a pointless action really; but at least it made her feel like she was doing something to help herself, as opposed to just sitting there uselessly staring into the dark.

Azula could feel her eyes growing heavy, but didn't really expect to get any sleep.

Not in here.

Not in this semi-cold.

So she propped herself up against the wall, folding her legs as close to her chest as she was able—it was all she could do to retain what little warmth she had. And she just stared.

Stared and thought.

Thought dark things, full of self-blame. Self-loathing.

If she hadn't been weak enough to get sick none of this would be happening, she'd be back in her bedroom sleeping or still at the dinner table teasing Zuko about how the cooking has gone downhill since he'd gotten the crown…

Azula tightened her grip on her own arm, digging her nails into her arm. A familiar warm trickle ebbed its way down her arm. She dragged her nails down from her elbow to half way down her wrist, releasing more blood.

When rocking herself couldn't provide any comfort…this did. Just watching the crimson flow slowly and gracefully.

It wasn't healthy, she knew. But what other choice did she have? There was nothing soothing about her new living quarters.

Hours into the new day—her second full day in that loathsome cell—the guards still didn't bring her anything to eat. Not even a scrap. Not even disgusting slop.

Azula knew then that she was a dead woman. She already knew this. Her speculation had simply been confirmed.

Why waste food on the condemned?

Azula shuddered, a dull ache growing in her stomach. She hadn't had dinner the night she was taken to this God forsaken cell—hadn't eaten in all that morning either; her time was too taken by those meetings.

She wrapped her arms around her middle and lie back down, silently hoping she was wrong and that they were simply late with the food, had forgotten, or that she had miscalculated the time. Her wishful thinking was met by footsteps coming down the hall.

Footsteps and voices.

"Wait. You said they postponed it?" Inquired one.

Replied voice two, "that's right, another day before the body is taken care of."

"But why would they put off the cremation ceremony?"

"The Fire Lady requested an extended mourning period. As well as another day to…tie up the loose ends." Voice two replied.

Azula took in a sigh of relief, she had more time…he had more time. Her fate was still in the dark.

The footfalls grew closer and came to a stop before her cell. She glanced up to see a face leering from the other side of the bars. It was the guard who had placed her there in the first place. She scowled, resentment weeping from every bit of her soul. She gripped her sides tighter, it was all she could do to keep from lashing out at the man.

"Don't look at her, not for too long." Whispered the first voice. "Don't look, don't speak."

They were treating Azula as if she was some kind of cursed being, one that would bring ill luck if associated with too long. She may as well just blurt out that she was once among the sick too, that would have earned her the same treatment.

No.

No, that would have at least earned her pity and sympathy. They would have looked at her with less disgust.

The guard stared for a bit longer, probably expecting her to bow her head in submission and/or shame. She refused.

And then they left, taking with them, any hope of being fed. Any chance that she hadn't been sentenced to death.

Aside from the growing hunger pains and the news of Zuko's scheduled cremation, day two of her imprisonment was uneventful…

She had no word of her own death date.

She had a striking feeling that said date was not far off.

herself losing it slowly. Why else would she try to listen to the cold?

Frankly it was embarrassing. That after only three nights, her mind was already starting to unravel itself on her again.

Drumming her fingers on the floor just in front of her nose, she decided she'd focus on listening to that instead. The sound of her nails on the ground would serve to her as a sort of constant. A sound she knew she was emitting into the gloom. A sound she knew was real…even if everything else grew queer, her tapping nails would be…normal?

It would keep her in touch, she assured herself. Though Azula couldn't be certain of this.

It was worth a shot.

Her best efforts had shifted into not thinking about anything at all. Nothing but the sound of her nails, and the sound of her own breathing.

The sound of her tapping seemed to be putting her to sleep for the first night since she landed herself in that loathsome cell. Azula pursed her lips…for the first time in that hour of senseless tapping her mind made a connection.

She recognized that sound.

The sound she'd been making—it wasn't just tapping.

No.

It was the sound made by tapping on not wood, not metal, but by tapping on stone.

The floor, she realized, was made of stone.

She was free.

All Azula had to do was tunnel her way under the earth and sneak out. She walked over to the bars, casting a quick glance to either side.

Once assured that there was not a guard in sight, she threw her fist into the ground. The impact seemed to resonate more within her own body than it did the ground. Azula shuddered and tried again and again until her knuckles grew raw and red.

What was she doing wrong?

Sure she had created a sizable crater, but she'd never seen an Earthbender hurt him or herself in the process of doing so.

That didn't matter…not at this time anyhow.

Azula threw her hand into the crater again making it deeper, ignoring the pain that flared up her arm. Pain was a weakness. She didn't have time for weakness. Pain…hurt…agony, none would stop her from freeing herself…

The only thing that did slow her was the familiar sound of footfalls.

Azula's head snapped upwards, the guards were definitely on their way. She muttered a curse or two before positioning herself over the crater she'd made…rather she tried to; as she had come to know her work was sufficient enough—she'd be able to fit into the hole.

And she did, landing hard on her ass, about a half a foot down. She muttered another curse or two before scrambling up again. The guards would be peering in any minute now. She hit her hands against her head as if beating some idea out of it would work.

She pushed herself to think back. To remember something…anything she'd seen Toph or any of the Earthbenders do.

She slammed her foot against the stone, quickly following that up with a thrust of her arms. Though the rocks seemed to be fighting (once again) against her, the top layer of stone slid over to conceal the hole. Azula allowed herself a brief sigh of relief before exhaustion over took, sending her body to the ground.

Azula scowled to herself, wondering how much time she had lost. She moved over to the hole again and reopened it. She had something of a long night ahead of her at this rate. Sparing a glance at her split knuckles, Azula took in a deep breath and began pounding on the stone again.

A half hour in Azula sat herself down—breathing heavily, legs dangling into the crater she'd just created. She still had a ways to go; the hole was only waist deep. She pressed her lips into a thin line.

There had to be an easier way…

There was. Azula scolded herself for not thinking of something so obvious in the first place; she didn't have to tunnel under the prison itself—simply under the bars and into the hallway. It was a riskier move, but no riskier than moving at such a slow rate.

With this plan she hadn't the need to deepen the hole any further…not vertically anyhow…no, with this new plan she'd just have to drop into a crawl and force the stones horizontally as she did to cover the crater…

She dropped into the hole and began an execution of her plan—learning fast that it was much easier spoken.

Azula, with her petite frame still lacked the build of an earthbender…the muscle mass to shift the surface blocking her horizontal progress. The harder earthbending became the more she missed her firebending; the way her body was made for it—slender and quick…

She gave the wall another forceful strike, now wasn't the time to complain and wish, it was time to act and to focus.

By the time Azula finished tunneling the rest of the way through, her body ached all over, completely stiff and sore. Her arms pulsed weakly, trembling and straining as she tugged herself up and out of the hole.

She considered—for a moment—covering the craters again, but decided against it; they'd notice she was gone right away anyhow, it'd just be a waste of energy. And she needed to conserve every ounce of it.

Time was running extremely thin and she still needed to make her way all the way back to the palace and carry her brother's body to…wherever it was she needed to go.

Azula pressed herself against the wall, checking around the corner for any sign of movement.

There was none.

However, there was a woman…a guard leaning against the wall.

Azula scowled to herself, she hadn't the energy to preform anything wildly talented—such as climbing along the rocky ceiling. If only they'd have let her eat…

If only she didn't drain herself.

Perhaps she should have waited until morning to make her break.

Azula'd have to fight the guard; it'd either end well—with her in a clever disguise but completely exhausted or tragically with her still exhausted but in this case back in her cell twisted and broken.

She threw herself around the corner and fist-first into the guard.

It was a quick punch, a lucky one. If the earth element didn't take to her; at least she still had one element on her side. Surprise. It was an art of its own, luckily she mastered that one alongside firebending.

Though the shock from the initial blow didn't last. The guard was back on her feet within seconds and coming at Azula with a fist of her own.

She's a nonbender, Azula noted. A nonbender watching over a bunch of the Fire Nation's most dangerous benders. She'd have mention that to…

The thought bought Azula to a physical halt. And the guard made good on this distraction.

She practically body-slammed Azula to the floor. Her body met stone with a sharp cry. Ignoring the jarring pain, she tossed the woman off of her and stood. Her opponent recovering just as quick. The girl had some skill…for a nonbender.

She came back at Azula with a series of quick jabs; either she wasn't practiced or she wasn't going for chi-blocking techniques at all. Azula ducked under her arms each and every time, all the while trying to find some sort of correct earthbending stance.

So far all she could do was make craters and close them. Of course that would work but she didn't particularly want to kill the guard. Nor was she ready to share her secret just yet. She'd have to win without bending, she decided.

Azula ducked down to avoid another strike. This time she grabbed the woman's arm and jerked her to the ground. She must have tugged harder than she intended for the guard let out a piercing scream, her arm bending in an odd way.

Azula cursed, at this rate a bunch of other guards would be on their way any second now. She had to wrap this one up.

She allowed the guard to throw her to the ground again—her head made contact…hard. Her plan; to get the woman to think she'd won. For a second she didn't think she'd be able to get back up and that the woman really would best her.

Azula lie there dazed—half-faking, half-actually in pain.

She waited for the guard to lean in closer before delivering her a pinch to the throat. The woman toppled and if she'd done it right the woman would wake up in minutes.

Agni, she hoped so. The last thing they needed was to slap her with another murder charge…and this one would be the real deal.

The woman let out a quiet, pained moan. Azula let forward a soft sigh of relief before making the woman's uniform her own. To think, Azula thought she was short; squeezing into this uniform was something of a task.

Azula draped her prison uniform over the woman's body. She didn't have time to actually put it on the woman, but for the sake of decency she couldn't just leave the guard stark naked either.

With that out of the way she dashed down the hallway—hopefully they'd think she was just another guard watching for the escaped prisoner.

And if her renowned luck kept up, word of the stolen uniform wouldn't spread quick.

. .

Mai had been to visit Zuko multiple times within the past few days. Each time she'd leave a new letter to burn with him; it was said that if you wrote the dead a note and burned it with the body your words would be heard to them in the Spirit World.

Mai hoped this proved true for many reasons—not just to let Zuko know that she still loved him deeply but also that he'd get Aang to get his ass in gear and fix this mess…even if he hadn't caused it.

The little Avatar, Mai pondered, had a nasty habit of running away when the going got tough.

She hoped he'd pull through like he did the last few times. The whole virus issue was growing tiresome. And the loss of Zuko was really droning on her.

And of course there was also the Azula issue. For once the princess hadn't done anything wrong. Anything but get herself in trouble; working with the council was hard enough without them having the proof of a 'confession'—if you can even call it that.

Despite her insisting the council refused to see things how Mai did, or even listen to the whole story. She couldn't even persuade them that Zuko was a carrier of the virus; much less that that's what had him dead. And moreover, that Azula's confession was irrational self-blame for something that she couldn't control.

Mai's passive way of speaking didn't really help her plea Azula's case either.

The council was just so mind numbing, it almost bought her a physical pain…

Mai opened the door to the throne room, where Zuko's body lay preserved in a light film of ice. She tsked to herself. "I really don't know how you dealt with them…" She muttered aloud. "I'm trying to save her, I am…"

Her external conversation to no one was cut off by the door slamming open. The figure looming in its frame was the last she'd expected to see.

How could she possibly have known where to find him? She's the princess, of course she knows what the procedure is following the death of a royal. Mai mused.

Azula, in her haste, pushed Mai aside without so much as a second thought. Mai guessed that Azula didn't even take note of whom she had shoved.

"Azula?" Mai started.

"I have to…" she seemed to be short of breath, pale, and in general, not looking so well. "…Got to get him out of here…" Azula heaved Zuko over her shoulder.

Mai never found herself to be so utterly puzzled in her entire life. "He's…it's a dead body, what do you want to run away with a dead body for?"

Azula paused as if searching for the answer herself, "I don't know."

"I just feel like I need to."

"Azula, that's insane."

The former-firebender blinked. "More, or less than anything else that I've done?"

"More Azula, definitely more."

"So. You'll help me out then?"

Mai sighed, "I never even implied…" but her words fell short. Of course she was going to help Azula, she nearly always did. This couldn't be much worse than the drill ordeal.

Stated Mai at last, "once you're out of the palace, you're on your own."

Azula heaved Zuko's body over her shoulder, sending them both toppling to the ground. I could barely lift him when had a good night's rest and a sufficient amount of meals, what the hell made me think I could do it now? Azula chided herself. Lack of sleep, she decided, never failed to hinder her planning skills.

She shook her head, now wasn't the time for error. There's never a time for error. She'd have to work through the tired fog in her head.

"Mai, lift him up." Azula instructed as she got to her feet.

"Azula, I'm really not sure this is worth it…" Mai trailed off.

Azula scoffed, she'd have to do this one herself wouldn't she? Ignoring the screaming ache in her…everything really, she lifted Zuko over her shoulders again—this time aiming to distribute his weight more evenly.

By the time she'd risen from her crouch she found herself panting and her forehead wet with sweat. Her legs trembling beneath the weight of both her own body and Zuko's.

"Put him down, Azula." Mai muttered. "You're hurting yourself."

"Then. Help. Me." Came her strained reply. "We don't. Have time…" By this point Azula came to notice a throbbing in her shoulder…

On her shoulder.

Knitting her brows she set Zuko on the ground.

"What are you doing?" Mai frowned. "You just said that we don't have time."

Azula placed two fingers at the soft of Zuko's neck, feeling around for a pulse. She felt his heart beat only moments ago, it couldn't have been her imagination, it couldn't have been…

There it was.

She could feel it just slightly beneath her fingertips.

A soft throbbing, barely detectable.

A soft smile tugged at her lips.

Her moment of relief cut short by a pounding at the door.

Habitually, Azula blasted them with a shower of blue flames…at least that's what she motioned to do, not even an ember had been produced. "Mai, now would be a good time, give me a hand." She hissed.

Mai sighed deeply and graced the palace guards with a rain of small knives.

"No! No, help me carry him!" Azula shouted. "I can handle them."

"You don't have your bending Azula. And last I checked your earthbending…"

"Is sufficient enough to get the job done." For emphasis sake Azula channeled her (by default) trademark move; she slammed her foot to the ground and shoved the boulder that sprung up into the first guard's chest.

So much for keeping her new abilities undercover for a while. The sheer terror on their faces, if nothing else, was worth blowing her cover.

She utilized the opening.

"Can't you make a wall or something to hold them back as we leave?" Mai asked.

"I don't know how."

"You can pick up on Ty Lee's acrobatics but you can't pick up on earthbending?"

"I've seen Ty Lee's acrobatics since we were kids." Azula pointed out as she sent another boulder in the opposite direction.

"Alright, I have him."

"Then let's get out of here." Azula replied… "oh, and when you do we're going to have a long talk about why you were going to let me get executed."

"I wasn't going to let them execute you. I would have figured something out." Mai stated.

"So," Azula ducked under a wave of fire and threw the back-exit door open, "what you're telling me is that you have no control over your subjects?"

"Not now Azula." Mai muttered.

Azula came to an abrupt stop.

"What are you doing?!"

"Trying something new." Azula mumbled, glancing up at the door they'd just fled.

Protested Mai, "now isn't the time to try new things."

Azula fished her memory for some earthbending technique…one that didn't involve craters and boulders, she was growing tired of those. The eclipse, she mused, she'd seen a lot of earth bending then. Toph created a wall then, she just had to remember the motions and do her best to replicate them.

Azula growled to herself, the blind earthbender had performed so many stunts that day it was hard to figure out which move resulted in what.

"Alright." Azula mumbled to herself. "I suppose we'll just have to do this my way."

Zeroing in on the ground as she had the first time, she tugged her arms upward—hoping the ground would follow given such a large distance.

Like most things lately the effort was draining, but she'd managed to create a wall. Well it was more of a barricade spanning only as wide as the door itself and only half as tall.

Close enough.

It'd serve its purpose.

Azula hustled to catch up with Mai once more.

Thus wasting the last of her stamina.

"Just where are we going anyways." Mai questioned.

"We're going to find the Avatar." Azula informed before succumbing to the weariness. Her knees hit the ground first, before the rest of her came crashing down. "Hope you can carry two."

Mai scowled. Of course Azula would put her in this position. She hadn't even planned on sticking with her past getting her out of the palace.

Avatar Aang is in for an earful, Mai decided, and Azula isn't far behind.

Mai scratched her head. Just how the hell was she supposed to carry the both of them? She was having trouble enough carrying Zuko. She rubbed her pointer along her chin; the ceremonial armor—she'd remove that, it'd take at least some weight off of Zuko.

The woman set herself to work—surprised at just how heavy all that armor really was. She slung Zuko over her shoulder and made her way over to Azula. The former firebender lie there rather gracefully Mai had to admit; it was as if she'd planned on passing out and laid herself down as if simply taking a nap.

Mai attempted to heave Azula over her other shoulder, but with Zuko already there she didn't even have it in her to lift Azula more than a few inches.

She gave a loud sigh, this was so tiresome—and most definitely worse than the drill…at least on that mission, Azula was doing most of the hard work.

As if to throw it in her face, Mai noticed cracks forming in the wall Azula had created.

"Come on, one of you need to wake up." Mai mumbled. What am I saying? Only one of them can wake up. She added silently to herself.

"Believe me, I'm trying." Zuko huffed.

Mai jumped.

"You're…alive?" Mai asked.

"I have been, this whole time. Alive, paralyzed, half frozen, and—until now—unable to talk."

"Anything else you'd like to complain about?"

"Yes. The only water I got was the water that dripped into my mouth, and I'm hungry."

"Well I suppose that we don't even have to run. Now that you're awake you can explain that this was all just some big misunderstanding. I mean they've already seen Azula earthbend…"

"That's not a good thing." Zuko muttered.

"What do you mean, it's not a good thing? You're back and can take the throne again, she's not contagious, and at this point I think it's safe to assume she can't even get the virus again."

"We can talk about this later, we have to leave now."

"Did you just wake up? Because leaving is what I've been trying to accomplish since Azula broke out of prison. And now she isn't even awake to follow through with her own plan."

Zuko flushed, "I've been awake this whole time." He admitted. "I'm just saying we should hurry."

"I hope you can run on your own now, because I have to carry your sister."

Zuko frowned, trying to find feeling in any of his limbs. His frown twisted into a scowl at the defiance of every muscle in his body. "I can't even lift a finger."

Mai looked up—the guards were gaining ground. She uttered a soft growl accompined with a scowl that put Zuko's to shame. The Fire Lord shivered, this was the most emotion he'd seen from Mai in a long time…

And it definitely wasn't the kind of emotional display he wanted to see.

Mai scanned her surroundings, tsking lightly as she did so. Her eyes fell upon a trading cart. Without any prior indication she withdrew her knives and slipped them swiftly at the poor merchant manning the cart. She felt a jab of guilt at robbing the man, but brushed it off, deciding that she had the more urgent business.

She'd just have to remind Zuko not to get pissed at the lack of this week's produce supply. For good measure she muttered to the man; "I'll pay you for the goods that didn't make it to the palace; take it as a thank you for lending me your cart."

The mad nodded, a bead of sweat running down his forehead.

She'd scared him good and well.

But she hadn't the time to reflect on that.

She hastily tossed Zuko into the cart, ignoring his shouted "damn it! Be careful!" He'd be complaining again anyways as the cart was really only big enough to carry one…so, being the one of slimmer build, Azula would be laying atop him.

The princess was much easier to lift than Mai had anticipated—but definitely would have still been a task to carry for miles. She heaved her into the cart only slightly more carefully than she had Zuko. "Ow! Come on Mai, seriously?"

"Would you like to suggest a roomier spot for her?"

Zuko gave a defeated sigh. "Just get us to where we're going. This is really…awkward and uncomfortable." He motioned—rather would have motioned—to Azula's sleeping form nestled, face up, way too closely than he was used to.

Thanks to Mai's astounding lack of care, his sister's hand had flopped down startlingly close to his ass. "Can you at least move her hand." He requested through gritted teeth.

Mai lifted Azula's limp hand and placed it atop her belly. "Good enough for you, Zuko? Or do you want to kill any more time?"

Zuko rolled his eyes—at least he could move those. "Yes, I'll stop…asking for favors now."

"Asking for favors." Mai replied as she began pushing the cart. "That's a gentle way of putting your complaining."

Zuko found himself overcome by a wicked urge to yell at Mai for being so snarky to him while he was still so sick. He bit his tongue, noting that her snappiness was likely stress induced. Instead he was left to focus on Azula. Her head knocking painfully against his chest with every bump of the cart. On one hand, at least he would have to hear her complaining the whole way to wherever they were going, on the other hand he definitely wished she could be awake, alert, and not laying a top him.

Silently Mai also thanked Agni that the princess was unconscious, the last thing she wanted was to listen to the Fire Siblings fight over whose fault this was…or worse listen to them both whine of how terrible this trip would be—knowing Azula she'd turn that into a competition; who can complain the hardest?

Mai snorted at her own joke.

The Fire Lady hit a particularly hard bump sending Azula jolting hard into Zuko, who let out a pained groan and a curse or two.

One thing was certain, Zuko knew it, Mai knew it—if she were awake Azula'd know it—this was going to be a long little journey…

And Mai still hadn't the faintest inkling as to where she was supposed to be headed.