The travellers and the soldiers simply stared at one another for a long thirty seconds, until someone got over the shock and recalled that they should probably be fighting. At that point, something approaching all hell broke loose.

Haru was the quickest to react; using Earthbending, he built a wall around himself and Kouji, whom he then set on the ground before leaping over the protective wall and joining in the fray just in time to see Teo use his wheelchair to slap a soldier across the face, sending the woman to the ground.

The fight was over distressingly quickly. For all that the soldiers were well-trained and well-armed, they weren’t up to fighting against five benders, one of whom was the Avatar, in addition to three deceptively skilled child-fighters.

Someone shouted for those remaining to retreat, and they did so, save for a young man not much older than Sokka was, who stood his ground with a trident and covered the retreat of his companions. He was quick and he was good, but he was outnumbered by eight people just as fast and good as he was.

“So, now we’ve got another prisoner,” Sokka said, once the dust had settled, tying up the soldier as best he could.

“So much for being sneaky,” Aang sighed.

Haru just shook his head as he let Kouji out of the thick-walled shelter he’d hastily constructed; the boy looked shell-shocked. “Does… that happen a lot?” he asked meekly.

“First time it’s happened since we got here, actually,” Katara hedged.

Kouji turned scarlet as he nodded; Teo shrugged. “Nothing we can’t handle,” he said, leaning forward to try and inspect his chair. “Argh. Hey, Sokka, can you give me a hand? I think I cracked one of the wheels and I can’t see down there.”

“Yeah, sure, what d’you need?” the older boy asked, walking over.

“Lift up and check the underside,” Teo explained. “If one of the wheels or the axle is cracked, I’ll need to get to work making a replacement.” He winced. “It won’t be easy, but it’s better to check now than have the chair break at a bad time.”

Sokka nodded, and lifted the chair to check. “Um… it looks okay to me?”

“Good,” said Teo, visibly relieved. “Thanks.” Now that he’d thought of the problem, however, he’d be looking for sturdy wood in order to carve a spare wheel and axle just in case.

“No problem,” Sokka said, grinning.

Katara took a headcount and came up short; apparently Zuko had wandered off again and Haru had followed. Aang, apparently realizing that someone should check into these things, called out, “Um, is everyone okay?”

Haru’s voice drifted back to them: “His royal highness is trying to cut a tree down with his hands; nothing to worry about.”

“…Why is he…?” Aang asked, puzzled.

Teo coughed lightly and indicated their two prisoners, both of whom were, like Zuko, wearing Fire Nation reds.

Aang frowned, still not quite grasping it, then, suddenly, “…oh.”

“Yeah,” Teo agreed. “It can’t be easy for him, especially with what you three told me about when you first met him. To go from having men like that guy,” he nodded to the unconscious soldier, “under his command, to having to fight them in less than a year?”

“I never thought about it that way,” Aang admitted, frowning.

“Twice,” said Kouji, unexpectedly.

“Huh?” Aang asked, turning to the younger boy.

“He’s had to do this twice,” Kouji explained. “Before we moved to the Fire Nation, I remember seeing wanted posters for him and the Dragon of the West.”

“…Oh. Right. I remember that,” Aang said.

Kouji nodded and fell silent again, running a hand through his hair and hissing in pain as his fingers snagged on the tangles.

“…Here, why don’t you let me comb that out for you?” Katara said.

On cue, Kouji flushed scarlet. “I-I’m fine, r-really,” he stammered.

“If you let it get more tangled, it’ll just be harder to smooth out when you need it to look neat,” she pointed out.

“Y-yeah, but…”

“Don’t worry,” said Teo. “Katara’s gentle.”

Katara smiled at him, and dug a comb out of her bag. “Come here.” Nearly as red as his clothing, Kouji approached the waterbender. “Here, sit down,” she said, gesturing to the ground in front of her. Kouji nodded and sat, turning his back to her.

As gently as she could (his hair really was very tangled) she worked out all the knots, over the course of nearly an hour. “All right, done,” she finally said.

“Th-thank you,” he said in a tiny little voice, getting to his feet. The blush hadn’t faded in that entire hour at all.

“No problem,” she said, smiling.

The other prisoner hadn’t yet regained consciousness, but Haru had finally managed to drag Zuko back. The prince, rather than doing the sensible (and polite) thing and responding to well-meaning queries as to whether or not he was all right, chose to sit in sullen silence in his usual corner and ignore everyone.

His blush slowly fading, Kouji joined him, saying nothing and pretending that he totally wasn’t hiding from Katara and Toph. If he was expecting conversation, he wasn’t going to get it.

It became quickly clear that conversation wasn’t what the boy was after, since he maintained Zuko’s silence. At last Haru asked if they were just going to pitch camp there — not a wise decision, given the retreat of the Fire Nation soldiers — or travel a little further that day.

“We should probably keep moving,” Aang agreed.

Haru nodded. “Do we leave the sleeper here, or take him with us?”

After a long moment of silence, “…I guess we take him with us. He might’ve been faking and heard what we were talking about,” Aang said.

“Then do we wake him up or let Appa carry him?”

“I don’t know. What do you think?”

Haru shrugged. “It’ll have to be one or the other. I’m willing enough to carry the kid when he gets tired, but I draw the line at men my age.”

“Yeah, but which do you think is a better idea?” Aang asked.

“It’s probably better to wake him up,” said Teo. “I think he might’ve hit his head in the fight.”

“Okay,” Aang said, and went to try and wake him up.

It took a number of tries, but eventually the young man was roused. He then rolled over and was promptly sick, which seemed to confirm Teo’s theory that he’d hit his head. “Are you okay?” Aang asked, after skittering back so he didn’t get the mess all over himself.

The soldier groaned in response.

“…We need to move,” Aang said apologetically.

Another groan, but he gamely tried pushing himself to his feet. As Sokka had bound his limbs together, he couldn’t get beyond a kneeling position. The twelve-year-old helpfully bent down and loosened the ties between his legs — not enough so he could make a run for it, but enough that he could at least walk.

A grunt that sounded like thanks, and the young man got to his feet, where he teetered dangerously for a moment. Haru watched him. “…I think we should put him on Appa anyway. Katara, do you know anything about head wounds?”

She shook her head. “No, I only know how to do surface stuff…”

Haru cursed with impressive vocabulary for so mild-mannered a man. The Duke perked up, taking mental notes. When he was done, the bender apologetically asked the waterbender to keep an eye on the concussed soldier anyway, and to make sure he stayed awake.

She nodded, and stuck close to the injured man for the rest of the day. Kouji turned out to be a help here, being more than willing to fetch whatever Katara needed for his fellow prisoner. Slowly, as he interacted with her, his blushes and stammering lessened.

Finally, after several more hours of walking, they stopped and set up camp for the night. Haru took over care of their injured prisoner from Katara; he wasn’t sure if the other man ought to be allowed sleep, though his coherency had improved enough that he was aware of his situation and steadfastly refused to tell them anything more than his name and rank.

Katara took over setting up the camp. And, in the ensuing bustle, as was fast becoming predictable, Zuko had wandered off to be alone again. This time, with Haru being busy, Teo followed him. This time, he didn’t do anything so obviously stupid as try to chop down a tree with his fists, he just wandered.

Teo kept pace with him, a few yards behind, well aware that his chair was not built for stealth and therefore the prince most likely knew that he was there. After about five minutes of this, he said, a little sharply, “Could you please leave me alone?”

“Sorry,” said Teo. “But I can’t. And you know that.”

Zuko growled something under his breath, but didn’t bother arguing. Teo did wheel back another yard, to give the prince a bit more privacy, at least. It wasn’t enough — not nearly enough — but he was on thin enough ice with the group — particularly Katara — as it was. The paraplegic, at least, didn’t try to engage him in conversation, or threaten him.

It still wasn’t enough. Zuko kept walking, hoping that Teo would get bored of following him around and go back to the others and give him just five minutes alone. No such luck, unfortunately. On the other hand, it was rapidly getting dark and the prince showed no sign of wanting to go back to the others. Stubbornly, the young teen kept pace with Zuko, though as darkness fell, he kept getting his wheels caught, unable to see plants to avoid them.

Zuko either didn’t care or hoped this would make Teo turn back, because he kept going regardless. Teo did not turn back, but wound up getting so entangled in a nest of vines that it took him almost a quarter hour to work his way free. By the time he’d disentangled himself, Zuko was long gone, vanished somewhere into the trees.

The young man’s subsequent curses were loud and would have made his father wonder where he’d learned such words. (The blame for this could be laid solely at Haru’s door.) About a half hour later, Zuko returned. “Ready to head back now?” he asked, barely audible. Annoyed, sullen, slightly wounded, and incredibly lost, Teo nodded.

There was a very long silence, then, just as quietly as before, “…Do you remember which way…?”

Teo shook his head. Clearly, he wasn’t speaking to the Prince. Zuko swore under his breath. “…Okay, let’s try this direction,” he said, pretending he had the situation totally under control. Another nod, and Teo wheeled after the older boy in silence.

They’d been wandering for maybe a half hour — this time with Zuko helping Teo work his way around obstacles — when they heard a loud noise, like a very large, very angry animal snorting. The paraplegic went stock still, and broke his silence to say, very quietly, “…uh-oh…”

The prince, rather than freezing, very slowly and carefully drew his swords, saying, “Go. Get out of here.”

Teo opened his mouth to refuse, but closed it again. Humans were one thing. Animals were completely different, and he would only be a liability here. Carefully he tried to wheel himself away.

He hadn’t gotten very far when the very large, very angry rhino that had been the source of the noise came at them. Zuko intercepted it, swords blazing, and shouted, “GO! FASTER!”

Teo gave up all attempt at stealth and threw his arm muscles into getting out of there. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see where he was going; he wound up getting badly tangled up again. As he tried to work his way free, the boy vowed to carry a knife with him from then on.

Meanwhile, behind him, Zuko was still keeping the rhino busy. After a few seconds, there was a rather painful-sounding thud, followed shortly by a faint ripping sound, and something hot and wet sprayed over Teo.

Teo could recognise the scent of blood.

“Zuko!”

“I’m fine,” the older boy managed to get out. “Are you okay?”

“I’m stuck!”

“Be there in a minute.” There were some odd rustling, crunching noises, and then, about three minutes later, Zuko, also drenched in blood, caught up with him. “Are you hurt?” he asked, cutting away as many of the vines as he could.

He shook his head. “You?” He’d apparently forgotten that he wasn’t talking to Zuko.

“I’m fine. Here, try pulling free again.”

Teo rocked the chair, and managed to wheel out. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” the older boy said, wiping off his swords and sheathing them.

Teo hesitated, then asked, “Are rhinos edible?”

“…Technically. But they taste awful.”

“Oh. Never mind.”

“The hide’s really useful, though.”

“Should we bring some back?”

“…might be a good idea,” Zuko said, then walked — somewhat slowly and stiffly — back to the carcass.

Teo followed, wondering if all the blood on the older man belonged to the rhino. The prince knelt next to the animal’s body, and set about skinning it. Given that all he had with him were his swords and the knife his uncle had given him all those years ago, this was slow going.

The young inventor helped where he could, holding hide back and using his blanket as storage. “All right,” Zuko whispered, after a very long and very bloody skinning. “Done. How do we lug it back…?”

Teo made a face. “Put it in my lap.”

“Right…” he said, and pushed himself to his feet. “Brace yourself, s’heavy.”

The younger man nodded. “I’m ready.” Zuko dropped the massive hide onto the younger boy’s lap. Teo grunted, but made no sound of protest.

“Now,” Zuko said, “we find our way back.”

“Lead the way.”

And, more stiffly and slowly than he would ever admit to moving, the prince headed off in the direction he thought their camp was.

By dawn, it was very clear that they were hopelessly lost — and equally clear that Zuko was nowhere near as “fine” as he had claimed to be the night before. Teo tried to urge the prince to rest for awhile, then gave up and decreed that he was exhausted and could barely wheel himself around.

“Fine,” the older boy muttered, pressing a hand to his side. “I’ll look for a place where we can hole up for a while.”

After about ten minutes of searching, he found a small cave that would suit their purposes. “In here,” he said, tersely, then stood aside to let the younger boy go first. Teo wheeled himself in slowly — he hadn’t been entirely lying when he said he was too tired to go on — and parked his wheelchair against the wall.

Zuko dropped to the ground as well, with a slight hiss of pain, then pulled off the tattered remnants of his shirt, and used it to wipe off the blood so he could check the damage.

The damage was extensive — a bloody hole in his side, surrounded by extensive bruising. Zuko swore.

Teo sucked in a breath. “That is not ‘fine’.”

“I can function. That means I’m fine.” He tore up his shirt, wadded part of it into a pad, which he pressed against the hole, then used the rest of the shirt as a bandage to hold it in place.

The younger man muttered something and sighed.

“What was that?” Zuko asked.

“I said ‘I hope they find us’,” Teo lied.

“We’ll try again in a couple hours,” the prince said decisively.

“Okay.”

Zuko sank back against the wall, closing his eyes and trying to meditate. Teo simply leaned back, closed his eyes, and fell asleep. Zuko drifted into semi-consciousness, waiting for Teo to wake up so they could try moving again.

It was nearly two hours after sunset when Katara frowned, and said, “Where are Teo and the Brat?”

“The brat probably wandered off again,” said Haru from where he was winding a bandage around the soldier’s head and shaking him awake every ten minutes or so. “Teo probably went with him.”

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen them since we landed.”

Haru frowned. “Now that you mention it…”

“We should go look for them,” Aang said.

“Yeah, probably.” Haru started to get up, but sat down when his patient teetered to one side.

“Okay, Haru, why don’t you stay with the private, and the rest of us’ll split up and go look for them?” Aang suggested.

“Me too?” Kouji asked.

“Yeah, you too.”

The younger boy looked surprised but heartened to be included.

“Okay, how’re we gonna split up?” Toph asked.

Haru shrugged. “The kid should probably be with Aang or Sokka. Other than that, no clue.”

“I’ll go with Toph,” Sokka said. “Aang can go with Kouji, and Katara with the Duke. Any objections?”

There were none, and Kouji readily went to Aang’s side like an overeager puppy. “Let’s go, then,” Aang said, and led Kouji in the direction the two of them had been assigned.

Kouji followed him gamely and quietly, hoping that Zuko and Teo were all right. The two boys searched all night, with no luck. Finally, about three hours after dawn, they came upon a small cave.

“Should we check in there?” Kouji asked.

“Probably a good idea.”

Kouji, not having his face plastered on wanted posters the world over, scampered off ahead of Aang and looked inside.

Sure enough, there were Teo and Zuko, the former sleeping lightly, the latter leaning against the wall, either unconscious or very near. Kouji signalled for Aang to follow him, and crept close to Zuko to check on him.

He was breathing shallowly and covered with blood, a massive, nasty bruise on his side, spreading out from underneath a makeshift bandage.

Aang followed Kouji into the cave, and went to make sure Teo was okay. Despite the dried blood coating him, the paraplegic seemed to be fine.

Gently, Kouji reached out and touched Zuko’s shoulder. Aang did the same for Teo.

Zuko jerked awake with a little hiss, his grip tightening on his swords, almost bringing them up before he realized who’d woken him. “…Kouji. You found us.”

The younger man nodded as Teo jerked awake. “Aang!”

“Are you two okay? What happened?” the Avatar asked, worried.

Zuko nodded and pushed himself to his feet. “We got lost,” was all he said to Aang.

Teo confirmed this and would say no more, even when pressed.

“Come on, we should get back to the others,” Aang said.

“Okay,” said Teo, following the Avatar. Kouji stuck close to Zuko. Stubbornly, the prince kept to his feet, doing everything in his power not to slow them down. The young colonist tried his best not to let his worry for the prince show, but it wasn’t easy.

When they got back to the campsite, he sank into his usual corner and dug in his pack for a clean shirt. “You should probably let Katara look at that,” Kouji said quietly.

“I’m fine. No need to bother her.”

“…but you’re bleeding.”

“That stopped hours ago.”

“But—”

“I’m fine,” the prince said, quietly, but firmly.

The boy fell silent. Zuko sagged back against a tree, drifting towards unconsciousness, and Haru looked up. “Whoa there,” he said, getting to his feet. “Sit down.”

“I’m fine,” he muttered, but slid down to the ground anyway.

“You’re clearly not. Good thing we’re flying today.” He reached out, shook the private awake again, and moved to the edge of the camp to signal Toph and Sokka with a slam of his foot to the earth. Toph would be able to alert Katara.

The other two search parties were back within about twenty minutes. By that point, it was plain that Zuko and Teo were both in desperate need of baths and sleep. Katara, face set, turned to the two of them. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“I’m fine,” Zuko insisted, pulling a little back from her.

“I can help,” offered Kouji.

She nodded, and went to help Teo. Even if her fury had cooled somewhat over the last few weeks, the lest time she spent around the Brat Prince (as she had not-so-fondly nicknamed him), the better.

The blanket around Teo’s legs — in fact, all of his clothing — could pretty much be written off as fire fuel; the blood had soaked in and dried and would probably never come off. The boy himself just wanted to be clean.

Katara helped him down to a nearby stream, after retrieving the rhinoceros hide. “…What the hell?”

“What?” Teo asked innocently as he wheeled his chair into the water and stripped off his shirt.

“Is this a rhino hide?” she yelped.

“…maybe.”

“Where did you get it?”

“From a rhino?”

She glared at him, clearly expecting more detail. Said detail was not forthcoming except for one, “It wasn’t his fault,” before Teo leaned forward and ducked his head under the water.

“…What did the Brat Prince do?” she asked, frighteningly calm.

“Saved my life,” Teo said on emerging, shaking his head and watching water fly everywhere. A glance indicated that there was still blood on him; he’d need another dunking.

“…Explain.”

“He fought the thing single-handed. Or double-sworded.”

“…He fought a rhino.”

“And got gored for it.”

“He got — where, exactly, did he get gored? And how badly?”

Teo demonstrated, and shrugged. “I don’t know how bad. He insists that he’s fine.”

“…not only is he a brat, he’s a stupid brat,” Katara fumed. “Here, let me get the blood out of your hair.”

“Thanks,” Teo said gratefully. The stuff didn’t seem to want to come out at all. If she pulled a little harder at his hair than was strictly necessary, well, it was entirely understandable why she was angry enough to not be careful. Teo bit his tongue to keep from yelping a few times and thought that he perhaps should have waited until he was clean to tell Katara about Zuko’s fight.