author's note: My current readers are going to hate me for this, but I'm starting a new story! I know, I know... I barely have time for New Buds and Nuances as it is, but I just couldn't not start this. Of course, I'm going to continue to juggle my other fics in with this. Just bear with me!

This takes place during Day of Black Sun. Zuko and Katara end up making some pretty dumb mistakes and are - of course - imprisoned together! Yeah, yeah, as Zutarians, we've heard it before. There're probably hundreds of fics focusing on these two imprisoned together. But let's try to get past the cliches and really make this fic something special! Why? Because i-am-mudblood wrote it, of course!

And drop reviews because reasons.

disclaimer: I don't own A:tLA for obvious reasons. If I did, why tf would I be writing fanfics if I could be making this a reality.

Inhale.

Observe.

Ozai stands, anger turning the air around him into hot, bright electricity. Unbelievably—or rather, unashamedly—the firelord begins to move his arms and hands, focusing on the electricity, and running the coursing power through his body to get a general feel of it.

Zuko can hardly believe it. Once more, Ozai is threatening to kill him. The fire prince prepares to be struck, calming himself and staring as his father absorbs the flickering blue light, gathering it into him.

You can do this Zuko. You can survive.

Just minutes ago, the sun had been blocked by the moon; the firebenders rendered powerless. Just minutes ago, Zuko had felt sucked dry of power, or protection, but at least then he'd been in the possession of two sturdy blades. Not to mention he was a rather skilled hands-on martial artist, sure he could take his father while bending was unusable.

After eight measly minutes, Zuko can feel, quite like a wave hitting him head on, the dizzying yet relieving sun strengthening him. Yet he isn't relieved. Dread weighs him down as he turns to see the bloodthirsty glare adorning his father's savagely livid face.

All at once, the lightning is coming.

Zuko reacts as quickly as he can, aiming his hand outward to absorb the energy through his fingertips and gradually guide it through his body.

Only he isn't fast enough.

Appa soars over a band of helpless firebenders, bearing Katara. She pats the bison and orders, "Appa, stay high, don't let them get you! I'm going on foot."

In response, Appa grumbles.

Katara hops off his back and soars through the air toward the ground, a grim look of determination aimed at the floor beneath her. Seconds before she hits the surface, she bends water and splashes down, quickly forming ice and riding the wave towards the battle scene.

Sokka isn't so far ahead, and she can see her father battling farther off, accompanied by Haru and Toph. Farther on are a few more from their group that she can't quite make out in all the chaos.

At once, she melts the ice and lands cleanly on the balls of her feet, crouching low. She takes a deep breath and tries to focus on the plot of water just a few meters away, trying to grasp hold of enough of the liquid to formulate a great wave—

"Miss!"

Troubled from her thoughts, Katara blinks and shifts to catch sight of the voice, taking a defensive position. There are a few straggling firebenders around, but they aren't near enough, and even so, they're powerless. The real battle is farther up where her brother and father are.

Suddenly, she spots someone. A boy, a teenager, crumpled under a tank that's been toppled over. His Fire Nation helmet has fallen and rolled away from him. His face is scared, soft, unrecognizable.

Katara's defensive stance loosens and she drops her hands to her side. This boy is no threat. He's just hurt. "Why are you calling me?" she asks, keeping her voice as hard and cold as she can muster.

The boy winces, his reddish brown eyes harboring tears. "Please help me! I never wanted this! I'm from the colonies, and they took me to fight for them and—Agni, my legs hurt."

"Why should I trust you?" she asks sharply, although all the fight in her has faded. After a few moments of silence, she exhales and glances towards the battle. They seem to be gaining the upper hand. No one would notice if she… "Alright fine, I'll help you." She nears his face, causing him to draw back uncomfortably. "But you better swear that once you're out, you'll go crawl back to your little colonies without so much as a glance backward. Is that understood?"

"Yes!"

Katara nods grudgingly and summons a blade of water to slice easily through the metal vehicle on top of him. Once it has been removed, she checks the battle again before impatiently bending over to help him up.

All at once, something feels wrong. The thought clouds her mind as she grasps the boy's hand to hoist him to his feet.

His hand grows warmer and rather than stand, he remains on the floor. She looks down in shock to see a grin on his smug face. In one move, he yanks her down.

In another move, she is unconscious.

Ozai stares down at his writhing son with icy, unforgiving eyes. For a moment, the boy stops moving to glare up at his father.

"You asked for it, my son," the firelord says in an offhand manner, his tone lacking regret and concern. "It seems after all these years you still don't know the meaning of respect."

Zuko can only muster a few more seconds of consciousness before blacking out.

Katara dreams of white hot pain licking up her arm, of screams, of the faint light of the sun peeking out from some unidentifiable black orb, and of her own vision blurring rapidly.

The last thing she remembers is a yell so faint and distant that it could have been her imagination. "Katara!"

It seems like minutes have passed when she blinks her eyes open again. The vast expanse of the blue sky has been replaced by a low hanging ceiling, deep brownish red and appearing to crumble. She moves slightly only to moan in frustration; her head feels as if it weighs more than the rest of her body.

Katara lifts her head to examine her surroundings more carefully. A large room before her with metal floors and walls; the crumbly rock ceiling is out of place, and precariously so. There are two bunk beds, spread on opposite sides of the room, and in the center a wooden table that's been bolted to the ground. There's not much else. No windows, no paintings or furnishing, and only one door - a heavy-looking metal one with a floor-level slit and a small window blocked by thin iron bars.

"Rise and shine, princess."

All at once, dread fills her insides.

The huge metal door opens and in steps a sheathed guard, covered head to toe in the usual fire nation garb. But there's something leaner and smaller about him, something unnerving, as if at any moment he could lash out.

"Have a nice nap?"

"Who are you?" Katara spits defensively, sitting up as quickly as her sore body can muster. "Where am I?"

The guard leans on one of the metal walls and crosses his arms carelessly. "You're at the Brig, water fowl."

Katara reaches for her water skin - only it's not there. She mentally slaps her forehead. Of course they wouldn't leave her with any type of weapon. She examines the room for another source of liquid, only to realize just how dry and dusty the air is. Her eyes raking over her visitor acidly, Katara says, "Let me out of here."

"Why would I do that?"

"Fine. Don't. Aang and Sokka are probably already on their way here," she instinctively grabs a length of hair and runs her fingers through it. It's a habit she performs when she's either nervous or impatient.

The guard watches her before letting out a low laugh. Pushing himself from the wall, he stands, his arms dropping to his sides. "I highly doubt your friends are coming."

Katara opens her mouth to retort but instead squints her eyes, studying the guard carefully. "I know your voice." She says, her feet dropping from the bed she's on. She hoists herself up and bends closer, approaching him cautiously. "You... you're-"

The guard removes his helmet to expose a grinning teenager.

The waterbender stops in her tracks and suddenly her memories resurface. "You."

"Me," he replies.

"I helped you back there. I saved your life." She's still confused; her memories are mixed and blurry and her head is still incredibly pained, but she thinks she has a general idea of what happened. "I bent over to help you up... and you..." Trailing off, she meets his smug eyes with a look of incredulity.

"Welcome to the Brig, Katara of the Southern Water Tribe."

"He needs a healer, sir."

"I don't care what he needs!" As Ozai's temper flares, the wall of flames around him soars higher. "That boy is a menace, a traitor, and he will be punished as such. He is no longer my son and no longer my problem."

Admiral Fen is still kneeling, his nose just brushing the ground, his eyes wide with fear. Despite his shaking fingers, he refuses to let any member of the Royal Family simply die. "Firelord Ozai, your grace, with all due respect, your blood still courses through him. Please show some mercy in granting him life and I will personally ship him to the farthest island from here."

There is a pause before the flames lower and Ozai steps out. His long black hair seems to be frizzing with electricity. "You dare defy me, Admiral?"

"No sir, I would never-"

"You dare disrespect me in my own throne room? In my own palace?" His voice heightens ridiculously, his eyes bulging with anger.

Admiral Fen presses his forehead to the floor, his eyelids dragging down. In a low and cautious tone, he responds, "I serve you and only you, Firelord Ozai."

Another pause. The admiral refuses to look up as he listens to the furious crackle of the flames. Finally, Ozai replies. "Fine. You want the boy to live? Let him live. He will serve a life of misery. Find him a healer and throw him in the Brig."

His mouth opens and closes. "Yes, Firelord Ozai." Standing, bowing, and exiting, Admiral Fen thinks regrettably that he should've let the prince die.

I miss Dad.

I miss Sokka.

I miss Toph.

I miss Suki.

I miss Aang.

Katara strokes her hair determinedly. Her cell is pitch black now; there are no lanterns or torches in the hallway outside her door, and the complete and utter feeling of silence is all too terrifying. She feels wholly alone in every sense of the word.

The other three beds sit unoccupied, only frightening her more. The waterbender was never one to fear spirits; rather, she embraced the thought of them, but she did hate being reminded of Sokka, Aang, and Toph, who would have each taken a bed.

It's been three days.

She has been fed once, about a day and a half ago, and the meal hadn't been too spectacular. A bowl of rice and tough meet accompanied by a cup of cold tea. The tea was bitter and strong, and when she complained about it, the guard had informed her they hadn't used water.

Water.

Being so alienated from her element, Katara feels weak and helpless. She longs to feel the strength of the moon flowing into her, to even taste something so crisp.

It's only been three days and she feels like she's losing it.

Even Yue wouldn't be able to see her in such a dark place.

Katara sits in self pity for a few more moments, staring at the metal wall. Everything is cold and lifeless in this prison and she hasn't seen a human being in forty hours. All she wants is one comfort, just one! That's not too much to ask. She has one thin, threadbare blanket and one flattened pillow. She has no friends, no family, not even comforting thoughts.

They're looking for me, she assures herself. Only a few more days and I'll be out of here. She realizes this a hopeless and spoiled request; how naive of her to expect a savior to drop in and sweep her out of here. Yet she's not ready to face the reality that she could be in here more than a couple of days.

There are footsteps.

Fearfully, Katara shrinks into the corner of her bed. A faint light illuminates the hall, growing brighter and brighter, and Katara fears the worst. She wonders if maybe they're going to beat her, or transfer her, or blindfold her. A faint twinge of hope in the back of her thoughts thinks maybe they've brought food.

The metal door opens with a heavy creak and something large is tossed in. There's a groan of pain before the metal door shuts and locks. From behind the barred window, the guard sneers, "Sorry to wake you, water fowl, but I brought you a little company. By decree of Firelord Ozai, you are to heal your little friend there back to health."

Bewildered, Katara stands on her feet, aiming a pointed finger at the figure on the ground. "I am no servant of Firelord Ozai! And why should I heal him anyway? I don't know who this is." Another thought occurs to her. "I don't even have water."

"Once a day, under strict surveillance you will be led to the infirmary where you will work on this dirtbag's wounds. Is that understood?"

"I don't have to listen to you," she says defiantly.

"You'll do what I say."

"Or what?"

He tosses a nod to the crumpled person. "I'll kill him."

Katara hesitates. For one thing, she has no idea who in the world that could be and honestly knows just by his attire that he must be Fire Nation. Who cares if he dies? He's obviously Fire Nation and therefore her enemy. She doesn't know him and certainly doesn't care to, so why should she trouble herself?

On the other hand, Katara is anything but a murderer. She can't imagine living out the rest of her life- however long that might end up being- knowing that some unfortunate soul has died because of her pride.

In an unsure voice, the waterbender says, "You don't have the authority to kill someone whom Ozai wants to live."

"You don't know anything," the guard replies haughtily. "Firelord Ozai wants this man dead. It was only by his good grace that he allowed this skunkbag to live, and he told me personally that he cares not if this soul lives. It's your call."

Firelord Ozai wants this man dead. Any enemy of the threat is a friend of hers.

She lowers her eyes to the crumpled figure. "I'll do it."

A ghost of a smirk.

Katara clenches her fists. "But I want answers! Where am I really and who is this?"

"Like I said before, you're in the Brig. As for him-" he tosses another nod, "he's a traitor of our country and from this day forth, a failure. Actually, no, I take that back. He's always been a failure."

"I want names."

The guard wraps his fingers around two of the metal bars and leans forward. "Ever heard of Prince Zuko?"

FINISHED. BAM.

I'm so tired but I honestly wanted to get this chapter up to at least 3,000! ): Oh well. I think this'll probably be my shortest chapter, seeing as I'm going to try to at least please my readers. Okay, btw, you're not allowed to leave until you drop a review! Peace!