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A burning pain radiates over his left eye and feels as though it begins to move outward over the rest of his body. The smell of burning flesh permeates the air, and someone is screaming. Belatedly he realizes that he’s the one screaming. The kind of scream that others know is being caused by horrendous pain. He can feel the skin over the left side of his face melt, fusing together. He can hear the sneers and snickers of those in the audience.
‘Let this end…’ he thinks to himself, grabbing at the wrist of the hand that is pressed to his face. He knows tears are running out of his right eye. He can feel his consciousness slipping away, he tries to latch onto consciousness, but something is calling to him, pulling him away from this moment. It’s pulling him into something safer, and finally he lets himself fall, letting darkness claim his mind.
—
A voice he knows well, and has come to love very much, is ringing in his good ear as he shoots into a sitting position on his, their, bed. He is breathing heavily as panic races through his mind.
“It was a nightmare, it’s okay. He can’t hurt you anymore..” Sokka says softly, running his fingers through Zuko's hair which is damp with sweat. Zuko chokes on a sob, feeling the phantom pain of melting skin, and sinks into Sokka's hold. He trembles, but he’s breathing easier, as he comes back into the now. It’s been four years since the end of the war, and seven since he was a frightened thirteen year old begging for mercy.
“I’m sorry for waking you.” Zuko whispers, voice hoarse from screaming.
He feels Sokka shrug, “I was already awake.” Zuko nods, understanding that they, and all their friends, are plagued by nightmares of the war. They sit in silence for a while, the warm night, while pleasant hours before they fell asleep, is now nearly stifling. Sokka lays them both back down, Zuko’s head laying on Sokka’s chest, and Sokka still carding his fingers through Zuko’s hair.
“Your hair has gotten so long.” Sokka says aloud, sounding relaxed. Zuko smiles a little, and shifts into a more comfortable position.
“I remember the first time I saw you. You had that awful haircut and stupid pony tail.” He says, laughing a little bit. It makes Zuko laugh too, though looking back at who he was makes him cringe.
“Agni, it feels like it's been decades since then, not only four years. So much has changed.” Zuko muses. Sokka hums, beginning to doze off.
Zuko sighs softly, hugging Sokka around the waist, and closing his eyes. Months ago, almost a year now, Zuko would have gotten out of bed and begun looking over documents and such after a nightmare like the one he just had. Now though, he’s got someone to comfort him, and who understands what it is to have nightmares night after night. To be plagued with things that happen during the war.
He finds now that sleeping after a nightmare isn’t so bad if he’s got Sokka with him. He idly thinks that he hopes Sokka feels the same way as he falls back into a dreamless sleep.