Work Text:
November
Sokka knows that the rain can cause a flare-up. He knows that the cold can cause a flare-up. He knows that doing 'an activity' with Suki can cause a flare-up. He knows that going to and from uni and running around the lab while he's there can cause a flare-up. He knows that doing more than his average amount of exercise can cause a flare-up. Individually, none of the above are a threat, they'll cause a little pain, sure, but when does his leg not ache a little? When does his knee not twinge a little? Logically he knows all this. But knowing, and being forcefully, painfully, unavoidably confronted with this are two very different things.
Guy Fawkes night was wet, it was cold, he and Suki had done 'an activity' together that morning, he'd been to uni and back and running around the lab in the middle, and he'd wandered about a park with Suki and Katara watching fireworks and the bonfire for more than an hour before dropping Suki off at Jin's place.
Sokka woke up the next morning (the morning, not the near afternoon) a little snuffly and with a pounding headache, but both of those were easily ignored for now with the throbbing his leg was doing. His kneecap felt like someone was trying to pry it off with a white hot crowbar, and his hip was seizing up from his leg being locked in pain half the night. He doesn't often get painsomnia, he's a heavy sleeper, and usually he's glad of the fact, but tonight--this morning he's regretting not being awoken so that he could mitigate some of the extra pain he's now in.
Sokka knows to use a heat pack and massage when it's cold and wet (which was often, considering he's studying and living in Scotland of all places. Not that Nunavut is any better, it's actually worse), and he knows to wear his knee brace when he's running around the lab or doing more exercise than normal (it's not really something that can be worn while doing 'an activity' though). He also knows that none of these things can stop a flare up, just that they help make it not as bad as it could be.
Sokka's reverie was interrupted by a short but chesty coughing fit. He was really starting to feel rotten; the sharp pain in his leg was spreading through the rest of his body as a tight ache, his sniffly nose was now fully blocked and threatening to get runny, and the pounding in his head was now making thinking hurt. Despite that, Sokka didn't want to get up yet, and opted instead to remain cocooned in bed, continuing his train of thought, even if it was turning rather more into wallowing.
He'd done everything he was supposed to yesterday. Which, frankly, was unusual since it's easy to forget even with constant reminders. And sometimes it's easy to forget until it's happening just how little control he has over his own body. He can still do everything right and end up barely being able to drag himself limping along the corridor to the bathroom. And forget even trying to use stairs (hence the supply of emergency food under his and Suki's bed). And he knows that the leg brace and the heat packs and the massages are growing to not be enough; that the background pain is becoming louder and more constant and the flare ups are becoming more debilitating and frequent.
He knows, but he's not ready. He's only 21, he's barely begun to be an adult and his body is already betraying him. It's been five years since the accident that broke his leg and dislocated his knee. Five years to get used to his new normal. And he's so good now at admitting that he has chronic pain (even if no one knows just how much it affects him, not even Suki). But how is he supposed to adjust to a new normal when that 'normal' keeps shifting, keeps pulling the rug out from under him? How is he supposed to accept what he can and can't do when those (supposed to be immutable) facts keep changing? How is he supposed to let himself consider that maybe he needs more help now, maybe he needs some kind of mobility aid when a few years down the line even that might not be enough? How is he supposed to admit to himself that he's no longer the strong big brother and boyfriend that he's defined himself as for so long? How is he supposed to support others when he can barely support himself?
And wasn't that always the crux of the issue. The whole GAang knows he has chronic knee pain. But in order to be that strong big brother to Katara, Aang, and Toph, and the supporting boyfriend to Suki that he's meant to be, he can't just go around using heat packs, asking for massages, and wearing a knee brace without drawing attention to how bad it's getting. So maybe it's not really forgetting. Maybe he'll skip the heat packs in the evenings sometimes or he'll not bother to ask for a massage (though more often than not Suki can tell when it's getting really bad and will quietly start without being asked) or he'll 'forget' to take his knee brace out with him. It's not always deliberate, only having been doing this for five years rather than a lifetime still leaves him genuinely forgetting that he has options so that he doesn't end up curled up in bed crying in pain and unable to move. But if they knew. If anyone knew that it got that bad, they wouldn't trust him to be able to take their weight. They won't trust him to fulfil the role that he's set for himself. He's not enough. Not strong enough, not smart enough, not fast enough. Certainly not fast enough to get out of the way of the van anyway.
Suki does know though. She may not know just how often it gets as bad as it is today. And she may not know just how excruciating it can get. And she may not know that there's always some level of pain; that Sokka hasn't been pain free since he was 16 years old. But she knows enough. Knows more than anyone else in the GAang. And she doesn't seem to think of him as not strong enough or not smart enough. Sokka can't say for sure about how she feels about whether or not he's fast enough, but that's rather irrelevant. The point is, he realises, despite his head becoming more and more muddled, or perhaps because, the point is that she thinks he's enough. She thinks Sokka is the supporting boyfriend he's meant to be, and she's repeatedly tried to convince and show him that he's the strong big brother as well: he's been there for Katara since their mum died; he was there for Aang when his guardian died; and he's been there for Toph while she's struggled to pull away from her controlling parents.
Despite how awake with pain he had been only moments ago, Sokka only had enough time to take a trip to the bathroom and back, prop up his leg with spare cushions, and lay his head back before sleep was grabbing at him once more. His blocked nose, cough, and headache had turned into full on congestion and fever. And that paired with his full body ache left him firmly in the camp of "I'm dying of the flu". Though that could be the fever talking. His leg flare-up forced him to the conclusion that the only thing he could do was try to sleep it off. He'll wake up in pain again because he'd forgotten to take some painkillers or set up his electric heating pad (though with the way he was nearly sweating through his blankets it's probably wise that he wasn't using that), but the fuzziness pulling at the corners of his brain makes it much easier to ignore. He falls asleep to strange dreams of people being able to manipulate air, water, earth, and fire. He wakes to Appa being some kind of giant flying bison and falls asleep to the jokes the creature tells. He wakes with a scratchy throat and begs his strangely sofa shaped sister for some water.
When he wakes up for what feels like the tenth time that evening, it's to a concerned Zuko hovering over him playing nurse to his fever. And the fuzziness and the pain make it so much harder to not just say whatever incoherent thought pops into his head. And this may well just be another fever dream anyway, so Sokka doesn't hold back when he tells Zuko how amazing he thinks the beautiful man in front of him is.
"You know, Love, I wish I could tell you how I really feel, but fuck, you're so beautiful that every time I even think to try, I just choke!"
And it's so hard to focus or work out what expression Zuko makes to that admission, that confession of how strong his feelings are growing despite only knowing each other for a little over two months, but he hopes it's one of joy. Zuko's face when he shows rare actual unadulterated joy is probably one of the most beautiful things Sokka has ever seen. And even though his own thoughts are getting hard enough to understand so that trying to understand what Zuko is saying is getting nigh on impossible, let alone figuring out what tone he's saying it in, Sokka hopes that Zuko sounds happy because his voice otherwise sounds painful, like damaged vocal cords fighting to get sound out, but when he's happy his voice sounds like music. And whether this is a dream, or a fever hallucination, or real life, Sokka is one hundred percent serious when he tells Zuko how much the man means to him.
"I'm sure Suki knows how you feel, Sokka."
"No! You don't get it!" he whined. "I mean it, Sweetheart, you're just so far out of my league! Come on, Baby, have you seen yourself recently? And you're not just amazingly beautiful, you could probably kill me with your pinky, and are so so funny, and--"
And the rest of the night is lost to sleep, and in the morning Sokka remembers it all.