A/N: So a new fanfic! I'm still working on my others, don't worry.

But here we have a new writing style AND first person POV!

Yes there are grammar 'errors' but they are all done for a reason. Zuko is in pain here, and majority of the time isn't thinking normally/coherently. Make sense?

Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender or Sherlock.

(No Sherlock characters will show up till about chapter four, depending how I'm dividing up what I already have 'planned' out.)

Chapter One: Home We'll Be Forced to Leave

I was drenched in sweat, and yet I was freezing.

My uncle Iroh was sitting next to me in the infirmary, but never had I felt so alone.

Quietly, I let myself mourn.

My father's flaming fist had swung down towards my face in what seemed like slow motion, giving me a moment to process the dread that was to come before searing, unbelievable, heart-stopping pain enveloped my mind and body entirely.

"AAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

Oh Spirits PLEASE OH PLEASE LET THIS STOP! Father I'm so sorry I'm so so sorry I didn't mean you disrespect all I was doing was trying to save those lives that would have been wasted just MAKE YOUR TORTURE STOP!

"Let it be known throughout the Fire Nation that, by decree of Firelord Ozai, Prince Zuko is here by banished from his country, only to return with the Avatar alive," Father had announced to the crowd gathered for the Agni Kai. I could barely hear what he was saying, all the convulsing pain rushing through me at the time drowning out the capabilities of my senses. Of my remaining senses.

Oh the agony!

I could feel my father's fire still eating away at the flesh of the left side of my face as I writhed on the floor, hapless and pathetic, desperately trying to do anything to divert or quell the pain.

I hadn't noticed that Father was watching me, and had made for me once again.

My hands were the closest to him, since I was still in a semi-kneeled position, clawing at the tiled floor. Blood seeped in between the platform's tiles like little rivers, the pads of some of my fingers cut and bleeding.

My right hand Father pinned down with his foot. Immediately, I could feel strain on my wrist and before I knew it it was broken. I howled frantically, trying to alert him that he was hurting me more, but it was useless. He was deaf to me.

Everyone in the arena was silent as they just watched and listened to it all. I could sense their stares and smirks and I wished for them all to die painfully in the wildest depths of the Spirit World…

If you were me would you mind others looking and reveling in this now? Should I snicker and point and jeer and, and encourage if the roles were reversed?!

"Prince Zuko, you have brought dishonor onto yourself and the Fire Nation by refusing to fight. Individuals who allow that to happen, who allow the Fire Nation to look weak and cowardly, should be punished severely."

And then he had left without further comment.

It was an unspoken rule of the Agni Kai that no one was to leave until the winner left the facility. So slowly everyone trickled out after Father left, not giving a second thought to me.

"The little brat. Should have been toughened up sooner…"

"Better now than never. The Fire Nation is so close to victory and we can't have a weak-hearted fool on the throne…"

"I hear the princess is something to marvel at…"

"Prince Zuko!" I could hear someone calling to me. My survival instincts told me to high tail it and run but I couldn't see I couldn't see out of my eye and my wrist was split almost neatly in two how was I supposed to defend myself…

"Prince Zuko! Oh my poor nephew!" Oh, thank the Spirits I recognized that voice.

"Uncle!" I had sobbed, groping around to meet him halfway.

And then there he was, quickly wrapping me up tight to him and bracing me as he leaped to his feet and then suddenly we were off…

The infirmary was close by. There had to be a medical professional on call to deem a victim of an Agni Kai dead or just barely salvageable.

My father had killed before. Always in the name of the nation of course but dead men have laid, broken and charred right where I had been sprawled out and it made me wonder if Father had, even for a second, considered killing me right there as well. It would have taken a lot of things off his plate if he had done so.

There was lots of rushing around as I found myself beginning to drop out of consciousness. And lots of shouting…

My uncle was demanding things of the healers; although by the time Uncle said what they should be doing they were already in the process of doing it. Some of the crowd members tried to poke their heads in but my Uncle yelled at them, (especially Zhao), viciously to "go away before I unleash the fury of a dragon on you can't you see that the boy already has been though and embarrassed enough?!"

All the touching and jostling was disorienting me besides the fact that my mind could no longer process all that had just happened in the last ten minutes…

And then slowly, I began to fade.

My Uncle was clutching my hand, dangling off the edge of the bed, as the healers moved in to patch me up…

I could feel thick salve being applied roughly on the injured side of my face and I could see a giant bandage moving towards me out of the peripheral of my good eye. The eye that had gotten burnt was already swollen shut.

My Uncle's hand was comforting as I finally succumbed but Moooooommm…

Her smooth, gentle hand couldn't be beat, since it had always been there to pat me on the back or rub away a tear and oh MOOOOOMMMM! How much better you had been at parenting!

All was silent when I woke up who knows how long later, my uncle still gently rubbing my hand dangling off the bed. The determination and loyalty of my father's brother…

My other hand had been wrapped up and set while I was unconscious, though it still throbbed uncontrollably.

But I could barely feel the left side of my face.

I tried to talk and tell Uncle that I wanted, no, that I needed more pain antidotes but my voice was all scratchy and hoarse from yelling and screaming and crying…

Father was right. I was weak and a coward and dishonorable and disposable.

Uncle noticed that I was up and trying to talk and before I knew it, he had gotten up and came back with a glass of water.

"Prince Zuko, can you sit up?" Slowly, I did. Shaking, I took the liquid gold in my good hand and tipped it up to my lips. Ahh relief, although very, very temporary relief.

Uncle took the glass back from me and placed it on the bedside table before coming to sit on the foot of my bed. He faced me, and I could see the fine trickle of water that he had shed from his old, weary eyes running down his face.

"My nephew, I should have never let you into the war meeting! I knew better to do such a thing in a time like now but you were so eager and how could I have said no?"

I couldn't make myself respond, even though a reply had already been formed and sat on my lips patiently. I, I was just too overwhelmed with, with everything.

I hadn't been shocked speechless like this since the morning Mom left and that bastard wouldn't tell me any details of the night of her disappearance. All the crushing emotion that had laid itself thick onto me the days after loosing her for good and then when Father had been crowned Firelord instead of Uncle Iroh and Azula seemed so happy, no elated at our father's promotion and when Azula was happy I always had to run for cover because something bad was bound to happen...

My uncle, if I was remembering correctly, had never been a very outright sympathetic. So it took me by surprise that he attacked me with a rigorous hug. And an earful of sobs.

I let myself cry silently on his shoulder for what seemed like ages before he pulled away, both of us admitting to defeat in our own rights.

Afterwards, Iroh was silent because that's what grief did to him and now that he was no longer a father himself, he had become rusty in the comforting department. Zuko knew why he was here and what exactly he felt, and nor did he want to aggravate the Prince any further…Enough emotional trauma had plagued the boy already today.

Uncle wasn't saying anything, and for the first time since we had really gotten to know each other I was thankful for it. All I wanted to hear was nothing, nor think about anything…

Quietly, I let myself mourn.

I would have taken inventory on myself, but I think I had enough of an idea of what shape I was in.

I would have tried to put together all that happened in ten terrifying minutes but every single word Father said rang loud and true in my head.

Never had I belonged. Not with Father, not with Azula, not to the Fire Nation…

Now I didn't.

I thought I'd be happy, leaving this dreaded place and all these unreasonable demands.

But I wasn't.

This was home. Out there, where I was sentenced to wander till I found this, this myth, was the world. The world my people were at war with. The world I had only read and heard stories about.

I prayed to any Spirits watching and listening to me that I didn't have to stay out there long.

Uncle, ninety-nine percent of the time, knew what was right. He had this amazing foresight ability that I admired and needed…

So when he mentioned something about dinner, I readily agreed, as long as I could have it in the infirmary and that he would stay with me. That empty feeling I had been feeling in my gut I realized was not only the depressing feeling of loss but of hunger, for at the mention of something warm and comforting to absorb into my soul my stomach growled.

I wish that Uncle would have ordered servants to bring us down something instead of leaving to go collect dinner himself, because almost as soon as he left a servant came knocking on the infirmary door with a message from Father.

Addressed to me, of course.

I gingerly took the scroll from the servant's hands as if it where going to explode. I almost didn't want to open and read it, because any news at this point was going to be bad news, but my curiosity won out.

I wished I could have 'saved' it for later.

I have graced you with a ship and crew to leave tomorrow morning no later than ten from the main port. Failure to comply will result in your incarceration and the revoking of your title. Never shall you step foot on Fire Nation soil again unless you bring me the Avatar. (Alive, for that matter.) Failure to comply will result in your incarceration and the revoking of your title.

It was signed by Father.

At the sight of his name I wanted to reduce the paper to ash and then ask it how it felt to be remade from the flames, but all that I could make myself do was re-roll the scroll and tuck it in my shirt.

But like I would need confirmation that today hadn't in fact been a dream.

I had a scar to prove it.

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