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Toph and Penance are back at their campsite. Sokka has to admit he isn't quite sure where this Metropolis is any more, or if they're even driving in the right direction -- but nobody really minds. There's plenty of food and water around, they've still got heaps of spare fuel, and all four teens are having the time of their lives racketing around the countryside.

Currently Claire is teaching Sokka a few more of the finer points of driving. Or at least, that's their excuse. There's a lot of laughing and the occasional squeal -- WHICH IS TOTALLY NOT FROM SOKKA, NUH UH -- as they rattle along the road and occasionally come to a screeching halt.

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"So we bury her," Claire insists, more aggressively than is absolutely necessary.

"We can't take a corpse in the car for that long."

Edited 2008-02-05 08:50 (UTC)

"We're not burying her," Sokka says quietly, grimly. He steps back from the body and puts an arm around Toph's shoulders, still not looking at Claire -- still not looking at anything except Katara.

"She's Water Tribe."

Toph puts an arm around Sokka's hips, but she turns her face away from him.

SHE'S NOT CRYING SHUT THE HECK UP.

"How do you kno..."

Claire doesn't figure it all out from that. But it does occur to her that the girl has the same colour skin and facial features as Sokka. Of course he'd recognise one of his countrymen.

"No, Sokka. We can't take a dead body in a car for that long, even if we knew which way we were going."

He shakes his head again, and looks up at Claire angry and wet-eyed. "Yes, we can. I'm not leaving her."

Claire growls in frustration, raking her hands through her hair. They go through fine where her hat had been, but then get caught in the mud.

She's stopped crying now, because the anger is in the way.

"It'll rot, Sokka. It'll decompose and smell and make us sick, and whoever she was, she deserves better than that."

"I'm not leaving her," Sokka repeats grimly, shaking his head. "You don't have to stay, Claire. You should ... you should go somewhere else, where it's safe."

He really isn't going to leave without the girl's body.

Claire freezes, and stares at him

"...you're sending me away?"

Over some dead body, whut?

Sokka can't look at her; he moves back towards the body, leaning on the side of the stone bed.

"I'm not leaving her," he says again, softer, lifting a completely steady hand to straighten Katara's collar. "I can't, Claire. She's --"

He can't say it. She'll know, then, she'll know how he didn't protect her.

"I can't."

Claire frowns in confusion, but she follows Sokka and hestitantly reaches for his other hand.

"We have to get away," she says quietly. "We're not safe."

Toph, meanwhile, moves to Sokka's other side, and places a hand on his arm.

"Will a lake do?"

Sokka doesn't even listen to Claire. He looks down at Toph's hand on his arm as if not quite sure what it's doing there, and bows his head.

"I ... don't know. I don't know how to do it properly. I ... think ... it would be okay?" It's almost a question.

Please tell him it would be okay. Because he knows Claire has a point, too.

"I bet it would," Toph says patiently. She's not facing him, thoug, head slightly inlcined as always, making her look like she's studying the slab intently.

(HAHA SHE'S GETTING HIM TO SEE REASON. HE LOVES HER. SUCK IT YOU HEALING FREAK.)

"It's water, right?"

Sokka nods slowly, uncertainly, and looks back to Claire.

"It ... might be okay? Is that ...?"

He doesn't know if that's good enough for Katara.

But if Claire says so too, maybe it will be okay.

Claire tries to smile, and almost manages it, even if her face is wet and streaky through the mud. Her fingers curl against his, seeking for once to give assurance, rather than find it.

"I'm sure it'll be OK," she says, happy for the compromise. "There won't be as many scary squid things, for one."

He nods again, slowly, and turns his gaze back to his sister's body.

"...okay. Lake. Is it close, Toph?"

Toph concentrates for a second, then nods.

"There's one about a day's journay that way," she says, pointing west.

"Which is about an hour in the car, I guess."

(Wait, are they holding hands? When did those two become hand holding buddies?)

Sokka turns back towards Claire, shutting his eyes and wrapping both arms around her, almost desperate. Needy. Something.

"Will you drive?"

Someone needs to hold Katara.

Claire wraps her arms around him in return, nodding aquiesence even though she's not sure what exactly is going on. When did this become her supporting him?

"Sure."

"Thanks."

He holds on to her, tight, and takes a deep, deep breath.

"She's ... we'll take her there. It'll be ... it'll be okay."

Sokka's not sure if he's comforting her or himself. Probably her, really.

Probably.

Claire rises onto the balls of her feet to kiss his foreh... OK, his nose.

"It'll be OK," she repeats.

Because they're together and they can stick together and none of them were hurt.

He nods quietly against her hair.

He doesn't believe it in the slightest. But kisses are nice. He's not even aware of Toph behind them; not with Claire there.

He won't let anything get her.

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