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People have done worse. People have started wars, pillaged, and listened to BTS. Contrary to what Katata says, Sokka is not a bad person for this.
What is “this” you may be asking. Let’s start from the beginning.
One month ago the man Sokka has been online stalking posted about his father’s death. Three weeks ago the man updated and said that he believes his late father’s house to be haunted. Katara said it’s just grief, Toph said it was stupid, and Aang said something long and complicated about spirituality.
No matter that. Sokka believed him. He believed that Zuko believes that there are ghosts inhabiting his father’s land. Sokka’ll be damned if he doesn’t take that shot in the dark.
Two weeks ago he made a Ghost Hunter page and dm’d Zuko offering a free consultation. Zuko, the poor boy, accepted without any hesitation.
So cut to now. Sokka was in a getup only comparable to cultural appropriation. Robe and headwrap he was definitely wearing wrong. He would have to burn this outfit so Katara didn’t see it. He knocked then put on his best Wise Ghost Hunter stance.
“Are you Sokka?” Zuko opened the door. His eyes were tired, skin ghostly pale, Sokka still wanted to be all over that. He had to play cool.
“That's Guru Sokka, yes.”
“Thank god you’re here.” He ushered Sokka instead, breaking the stance and making him stumble. “I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t think. The ghosts in this house are torturing me.”
Ghosts aren’t real. Katara was probably right on her grief angle but people in distress are so hot. It looks even better on Sokka. “What ghosts do you believe reside here?”
“My dad, for one.” Zuko itched his beautiful head. “He died here. Suicide.” He whispered, looking around. “But that’s what the coroner said. I think the other ghost, my grandfather, killed him. My grandfather was an evil man, he died of old age in this house. In that rocking chair.” He pointed across to a chair that was the only lit object in the room. “I think he would definitely murder his son. Now I think my dad is doing the same trying to murder me.”
Sokka stroked his nonexistent beard. “Why haven’t you left the grounds? Are you…bound?”
“No, I need to sell it though.” Zuko turned around. “Property value is down but it’s a beautiful house with horrible memories.”
Grief can do crazy things to the mind. Right after his mom died Sokka thought he saw her at the foot of his bed at night. He’d call for her to join him, wanting to feel his mother’s touch one last time, but she’d disappear. It was just a manifestation of his desire for that feeling. Nothing more. In Zuko’s case this was probably just the desire to make something out of his father’s suicide.
Zuko cleared his throat in an attempt to hide his feelings. “Can you go through the house? See what rooms are, like, the most haunted?”
Sokka firmly nodded. He studied the art of pretending to be a ghost whisperer. Right from the source. Ed and Lorraine Warren. He walked with Zuko close behind him, knocking on stuff to get a reaction out of Zuko.
“Ooooo yes I’m getting vibes from this room.” He closed his eyes and waved them within the room.
Zuko gasped. “That’s the room my father died in.”
He should’ve asked how Zuko’s dad killed himself. He hummed. “Yes, yes, I’m smelling…” If Zuko believes that his grandfather killed his dad then that could cut out a lot of options. Maybe it was a Haunting of Hill House kind of thing. The ghost made his dad hang himself. “…blood.” That was the safest bet.
“But he overdosed?”
Shit.
“Blood…in the…” He doesn’t know the specifics of overdoses. The most he knows is from whatever episode of Grey’s Anatomy Katara had been watching anytime he happened to listen in. He kicked over an object near the door then gasped. “Activity!”
Zuko came in close behind Sokka. Thank god he had been far enough away to not notice the manmade reason for the fall. “Is it him? Is it my dad?”
“Do you want it to be?” Sokka peaked his eyes open.
“I don’t…I don’t know.” His client stuttered. “Dad? Are you mad that I’m selling the house?”
Sokka leaned back against a dresser to fake a rumbling. It somehow seeped into the floor and began to cause a shake. Zuko stumbled, falling into the guru’s arms. “I think that was a yes.” They both looked around. Sokka planted his foot back to cause another sound, only this time it happened across the stairway.
Zuko jumped on Sokka’s back. If Sokka didn’t go to the gym 24/7 (totally true) there might’ve been a crack. The rails began to violently shake. Sokka slowly turned his head to see it. “Has this ever happened before?”
“No.” Zuko cowered behind Sokka. “He must be really angry.”
They could hear the lock on the front door turning. Sokka was trying to keep his composure but this was not what he planned at all. He’d fake a few scares then pull Zuko close to “comfort” him. Now he was using all his might to make sure he didn’t piss himself.
“What’s your dad’s name?” Sokka shakily whispered.
“Ozai.”
“O-Ozai is that you?” The guru moved his hand around in a circular motion. “Dude-zai can you calm down and commune with me?”
Zuko smacked Sokka’s back. The door slammed, kicking them out of the room Ozai died in. “I think he’s saying to not sell the house.”
The house grumbled something unintelligible.
“Fog?” Zuko tried to decipher what was said.
“I think he said Maggot.” Sokka corrected. “Have you ever considered having a realtor do all the home stuff?”
Zuko ran to a window in an attempt to force it open. “The realtor bounced.” The window wouldn’t open. “We’re trapped!”
“You might be…safer in my arms.” There was a layup and he took it.
“Because you’re a guru?”
“Because I’m a guru, yes, come here.” Sokka wrapped his arms around Zuko. Their heads snapped to different directions as the house continued to reject their being.
He wished this was happening in different circumstances. Like if they had a meet cute, exchanged numbers, then had an amazing date at a niche café. Or, after a date they’re kissing in the rain. Maybe they even go to Barnes & Nobles and Sokka pretends to like classics like The Odyssey to make Zuko swoon.
But alas, Sokka had angered a ghost. Yes, a ghost. Ghosts are real. This made him look back on a lot of things. Was his pillow going missing a ghost? Was the breaking of the washing machine a ghost? Is Sokka doomed to anger any ghost he comes in contact with?
“Exorcise it!” Zuko dropped lower, almost out of Sokka’s reach.
“I can’t—“ Sokka caught himself. Ghost or not Sokka was gonna use this to get his date. “…because only priests can exorcise ghosts.”
“What’re we gonna do?!” Zuko shrieked as glass shattered somewhere downstairs.
Sokka searched his surroundings. “How attached are you to this house?”
“What?”
“I’m gonna have to break the window, okay?” He elbowed the window behind them. His insurance sucks but hopefully Katara can do at home care. The window gave out, eliciting a gasp out of Zuko. “Sorry. Okay, you jump first.” The jump wasn’t huge but at this moment it was insanely intimidating.
Sokka expected a fight. Zuko going ‘what, no! I can’t go first! you go!’ and Sokka will go ‘no, you go!’ In a deep macho voice.
Zuko was halfway out the window by the time Sokka looked down. He snapped to and began helping him. Zuko’s waist was indescribable. Sokka was unconsciously squishing it. “Okay let me go!”
“Sorry!”
Zuko dropped down, fall broken by the grass. Sokka followed suit. Zuko panted. “Holy shit.”
Sokka nodded. “Yeah. Uh, can I have your number?”
“What?”
“For more ghost…stuff.”
“Sure.”