Chapter Text
i. the ferry
The first thing Jet sees is the scar.
Maybe that’s not true. The first thing that catches his eye is the boy’s back: the set of his shoulders, the straight line of his spine even as he hunches over the railing. His head tilts as he turns away from the old man beside him, and then everything else falls away at the sight of the scar. The scar is the first thing that Jet sees. It’s vivid even in the dark, purple-red and angry and huge. A burn scar.
The second thing he sees is the sheath strapped to the boy’s back, the handle of at least one blade sitting proudly at his shoulder blade. A fighter, Jet knows immediately. Burnt and scarred but still up and fighting. Angry, he can see in the tense lines of his body and hear in his voice as he complains about the ferry’s shitty food. Unhappy with the world and his place in it, burnt and scarred and so angry about it.
Jet steps forwards and speaks when he senses an opening. The boy turns to look at him briefly; Jet catches bright eyes and a suspicious frown, the unscarred, young-looking half of his face carrying just as much simmering anger as the perpetual scowl the scar has given him.
Jet wants him immediately. Wants him for the gang, at first, especially when he finds how easily they work together, how he uses his swords as tools as well as weapons, stacking up bowls in the dark and moving noiselessly through the kitchen.
Wants him for something more than that, the longer he spends with him. The scar is what caught Jet’s attention, but the rest of his face isn’t so bad. His hair has been recently cut, and he’s recently starved, too—Jet can see in the hollows of his cheeks and the way he curls around his bowl as he eats like someone might try and take it from him. He walks like he’s used to being at sea, none of the missteps or stumbling of first time ship riders (Jet unfortunately included). There’s something about the mystery of him that draws Jet in. Makes Jet want to know him.
He doesn’t speak much; the old man he’s traveling with does enough for both of them, he supposes. He calls Jet noble and says that he believes in second chances, looking pointedly at Li as he does. Li keeps his eyes solely on his food.
He leaves not long after his food is gone without even a goodbye. His uncle watches him go with a sad sort of look in his eye. Jet finds him later, standing at the railing away from the other passengers, back straight and shoulders a sharp line, staring at the water. He’s looking away from Ba Sing Se; even though they can’t see the walls yet, Jet had spent the first half of the day gazing towards them.
“Hey,” he says, announcing his entrance and making sure to approach on Li’s right side. He doesn’t know how much he can see out of his left, but he’s sure the guy’s peripheral vision must be spotty at best.
“What do you want?” Li asks shortly. Jet is a bit surprised at the hostility, considering the last few hours, but he’s always had a soft spot for cute boys—and girls—with an attitude.
“We made a pretty good team back there, huh?”
“I guess.”
Jet is undeterred. He leans back against the railing to get a better look at Li’s face. “Do you do stuff like that a lot?”
Jet is pretty sure he already knows the answer. Li has used those swords like they were an extension of his own arms and crept around with years of experience in staying quiet.
Li just glares. “Why do you care?”
“Just tryna make conversation,” he gives a small smirk around the stalk in his mouth.
Li frowns at him, like that’s the most ridiculous thing he’s heard all night. “Why?”
Jet fights to keep his smile from widening. “I think you’re interesting. You seem like the kinda guy I’d enjoy…” he looks Li up and down, “getting to know better.”
If Li picks up on the innuendo, he doesn’t show it. He just says, “Well, I’m not.” And then turns on his heel and walks away.
A pretty solid rejection. Jet stands there for a moment, a bit stunned. People usually eat up his half smiles and just-on-the-edge-of-flirtation. He’s never been turned down so swiftly before. It kind of stings.
Well, Li’s loss, he thinks to himself, standing up and shaking it off. And the ferry ride isn't over yet. He’s still got plenty of time to work with.
*
That night, Jet dreams of his parents. He often dreams of his parents. When he was a kid, those first few days-months-years after they were killed, Jet would have nightmares so bad he would wake up screaming, wake up crying and shaking and full of terror and rage so strong it would keep him awake the rest of the night.
They’ve mellowed out over the years, or maybe Jet has just gotten used to them, better at dealing with them, but they have never completely stopped.
Sometimes it’s his parents as they were in life, those bright and golden days before the firebenders came. Sometimes it’s his parents as they were in death. Burning up and screaming. Sometimes it’s his kids—Bee and Longshot and The Duke and Sneers and all the rest—burning up and screaming as they’re murdered by faceless Fire Nation soldiers.
Lately, he’s been having dreams about Gaipan; he dreams that his plan worked, that he’s walking through the ruins of his victory but instead of the Fire Nation soldiers strewn out dead, it’s the Freedom Fighters, it’s his parents, it’s the people from his own village, it’s everyone he’s seen the Fire Nation kill but this time it’s him who has killed them. Those dreams always leave him feeling guilty and sick.
Tonight, though, it’s his parents again.
It starts off so bright and happy, all of them sitting around the dinner table together. Then comes the screams from outside. Then comes his father pulling the club from under his bed and going outside to see what’s happening and never coming back. Then comes the fire and the screaming and then Jet is outside and he’s standing there watching it happen. His home burns and his mother burns and there is smoke in his eyes and his lungs and he heaves as he cries and cried and—
He gasps awake, instinctively reaching for his swords. Familiar weight in his hands. Hard wood beneath him. The deep breaths of sleeping people. The creak of the ferry.
The ferry, he remembers. He’s on the ferry to Ba Sing Se. He breathes out.
He turns to make sure his crew is still here, checking in on his kids a deep-rooted instinct by now. Smellerbee is snoring lightly, curled up under her blanket with her knife clutched in her hand. Longshot is awake, peering up at him worriedly.
He furrows his brow, sitting up slowly as if not to startle. Are you okay? his eyes ask, bright even in the dark of night.
Jet nods even though his heart is still racing in his chest. A few of the other refugees have stirred at his noise, bleary eyes blinking up through gaps in blankets. Jet suddenly wants to be anywhere but here.
“I need some air,” he whispers. Longshot nods, briefly touching Jet’s arm in comfort; Jet gives him a weak smile before he stands to leave.
He has to be careful weaving through the sea of sleeping refugees, but he eventually reaches the outskirts, pacing quickly around the side until there are no more bodies on the ground. He’s surprised to see someone else already standing at the railing. He recognizes the slope of those shoulders and the swords still slung across his back, even in the middle of the night, and suddenly isn’t surprised anymore.
His footsteps echo as he approaches from the right; Li doesn’t turn to look at him, but Jet knows that Li knows that he’s there. The night air is cool over the water, making Jet shiver even through his multiple layers. Li doesn’t seem to feel it, though Jet supposes his robes make for better coverage against the cold.
Jet grips the railing tight in his hands, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. The after images of his dream spark behind his eyelids—the fire, the screaming, his mother’s burning hair, helpless terror in his throat. He opens his eyes, swallowing those feelings down. He is not a child anymore, he reminds himself. He is not afraid.
Li is a silent presence beside him, arms folded behind his back as he gazes out into the night, giving Jet an illusion of privacy. He hasn’t left, despite looking slightly uncomfortable now that Jet is here, and that means something. To Jet, at least, it means something.
“Hey,” Jet finally greets, voice weak. “Can’t sleep?”
It’s a meaningless question with an obvious answer, but Li just shrugs.
“Not really,” he says in that quiet, creaky voice.
Jet continues to breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth, his mother’s fingers in his hair as she talks him through his panic—he doesn’t even remember what he was so upset about, but he remembers the warmth in her voice.
“Nightmares?” He can’t help but ask, already knowing the answer.
“…Yeah,” Li says softly, eyes still locked on the ocean before them.
“What do you dream about?”
Li finally looks over at him, frowning, as though surprised by his audacity. It makes the anxious ball in Jet’s chest loosen up just a bit.
“Sorry,” Jet says after a beat of silence; Li’s eyes are on the ocean again. “You don’t have to—“
“My mother,” Li interrupts, voice hushed. “I dream about a lot of things, but…tonight it was my mother.”
There’s grief there, Jet can sense. A weight to the words. Jet doesn’t press.
“Tonight it was my parents,” Jet says eventually, a truth for a truth. “The Fire Nation burned down my village when I was eight. My dad was killed trying to fight. My mom was trapped in the house. I couldn’t save them. They burned and burned and I just…watched. I ran away.”
The words come tumbling out like bile in his throat. He wants Li to know, for some reason. He needs Li to know.
Li looks at him with such an open expression of horror and sympathy that Jet is taken aback. He must have heard stories like Jet’s a thousand times over. He must have a similar story of his own. But Li looks at him like Jet’s is the worst thing he’s ever heard, like Jet is breaking his heart. He seems younger like this, Jet thinks absently, with the scar obscured by shadow and his bright, sad eyes shining in the moonlight.
“I’m sorry,” Li says, and he truly does sound sorry. Something about his sincerity reminds Jet vaguely of Katara. He pushes this thought away.
Jet doesn’t say it’s okay, because it’s not, but he appreciates it anyway. He gives a weak smile, a faint twitch of his lips more than anything, but Li seems to get it.
“What happened to your mother?” He dares to ask after another beat of silence.
Li’s mouth twists. He looks away, down at the water sloshing against the side of the boat. “I don’t know. I think he…I think she’s dead. But I didn’t see it.”
Jet wonders if that’s better or worse, not to see it happen. From the deep-seated grief in his eyes, Jet would say that Li wonders the same thing.
Jet puts a hand on Li’s back, his shoulder blade sharp even though the layers of fabric. “I’m sorry,” he returns.
Li doesn’t say it’s okay, either. But he doesn’t shake Jet’s hand off.
They stand there together, watching the water, until Jet’s eyelids grow heavy and he reluctantly suggests that they try to go back to sleep. Li just nods and turns to leave.
Jet watches him walk away, disappearing into the shadows as he goes back to wherever he and his uncle are sleeping. Jet tamps down the ridiculous urge to follow him, and heads back to his friends.
*
He finds himself seeking Li out again in the morning. The sting of rejection from yesterday evening has been smoothed over by the comfort from last night, and he thinks he understands Li a little bit better now.
Jet finds, however, over the course of another long day, that Li is easier to coax into talking when they’re alone. With his uncle around, Li is nearly silent, letting the old man jabber on and only offering a word or two when prompted.
He asks where they’re from over their shitty bowl-of-gruel breakfast and Mushi says some vague things about a village far from here that they can never return to and how it’s painful to dwell on it for too long. In return, Jet tells them a little bit about their forest, leaving out the bad stuff and focusing on the fun and adventure; Bee chimes in here and there, correcting his embellishments or adding her own. Mushi seems politely intrigued, asking questions and making comments at the appropriate pauses, but the only reaction Jet cares about is Li’s, who doesn’t say a word.
When Jet asks how Li came to be so good with his swords, it’s Mushi who begins to sing his praises, talking about how Li has been diligently practicing from a young age and has always been gifted with his blades. Li’s jaw clenches in discomfort or annoyance (Jet can’t tell yet), but he shrugs along to his uncle’s words and says I just practice .
Jet isn’t sure if the whole answering for both of them thing is intentional on Mushi’s part, but it gets annoying very quickly.
If he wants to have any chance of getting to know Li better—because it’s Li who he cares about, not his uncle; it’s Li who he wants to have to himself—then he’ll have to find another excuse for them to ditch the old man.
He gets his chance that night. Jet has heard whispers of booze stored away in the kitchen cabinets—lazy captain, eating like a king and drinking on the job. Longshot doesn’t like the way alcohol makes him feel and Bee doesn’t like to leave him all alone, so Jet asks Li if he’s down to liberate some booze. Li says yes almost immediately, like Jet hoped he would.
It's trickier getting in and out of the kitchen after their raid last night, especially with just the two of them, but not impossible. They end up packed into a supply closet below deck with a bunch of extra bedrolls and two liberated bottles of wine.
Jet pops the cork off with the point of one of his swords, leaning back against the wall. He plucks the stalk of wheat from his mouth, takes a long swig—bitterness explodes in his mouth, somehow dry despite being a liquid—and then passes it to Li, hoping his grimace isn’t too obvious.
Li takes a much smaller sip, swishing the liquid around in his mouth and swallowing with a grimace of his own.
“This wine kinda sucks,” Li says, dry as the bottle in his hand, and then takes another sip.
Jet snorts as he takes the bottle back. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Maybe the captain keeps the hard stuff up with him while he steers.”
He’s hyper aware of his lips around the rim of the bottle, the same place Li’s mouth was just moments ago.
“I hope not,” Li grumbles.
They pass the bottle back and forth for a few minutes, Jet’s head going slightly fuzzy. He doesn’t actually have a huge history with alcohol. They’d lift the occasional bottle of whiskey or fancy flask from the soldiers they ambushed (which Jet kept those safely out of the younger kids’ reach) but he’s never had wine like this before. The nearly empty stomach is doing him no favors.
Half a shared bottle has his limbs feeling both heavy and loose and the goal of kissing Li by the end of the night firmly planted in his head. It’s something he’s been working towards this whole time, if he’s being honest with himself. Not a primary goal (that’s getting Li to join the Freedom Fighters) but a pretty close second.
“So why’re you headed to Ba Sing Se?” Jet asks. He knows Mushi already gave his new life and second chances talk, but Jet figures Li’s reason might be different.
Li frowns at the reminder of where the ferry is taking them. “Why does anyone go to Be Sing Se?” he grumbles.
To get away from the Fire Nation. To find a better life. To be safe. Because there’s nowhere else left to go.
From the bitter way Li speaks, Jet assumes it’s the last one. “No other options, huh?”
“Something like that.”
Jet shifts slightly closer, making a sympathetic noise. “I know how you feel.”
“I thought you were here for a new beginning.” Li scoffs.
Jet swallows a smile So Li was listening last night.
“That’s part of it. But…after my village was burned down, I made a new home with my Freedom Fighters. But we had to leave that, too. Ba Sing Se seemed like our best option. We didn’t know where else we could go.”
Li is looking at him all sad again, eyes gleaming in the dim lighting.
“I had to leave my home, too,” he says quietly.
“Do you miss it?” Jet asks unnecessarily. He can see memories of home playing behind Li’s eyes.
“Yeah. I…I don’t want to go to Ba Sing Se. I don’t wanna be here at all.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to go home,” Li says, equal parts angry and sad, voice cracking around the word. “I just want to go home. But…I can’t. I can never go home again.”
“None of us can,” Jet agrees morosely. He puts a hand on top of Li’s where it’s braced on the floor. “And it’s not fair. All we can do is try our best with what we have.”
Li’s eyes are on their hands. He’s frowning like he can’t decide whether or not to pull away. Jet continues before he can make up his mind.
“I’ve never lived in a city before, so I’m honestly kinda nervous about adjusting to it,” Jet lets a little self-deprecation slip into his voice before he smiles. “But with you there, I’m sure it won’t be all bad.”
That makes Li look up, frown not leaving his face.
“What do I have to do with the city being bad?” Li asks, either completely oblivious to Jet’s blatant flirting or just apathetic to it. Jet assumes (hopes) it’s the first one.
“I’m just saying, I’m glad you’ll be there with me.” Too forward, Jet thinks immediately. He takes the nearly empty bottle from Li’s loose grip and hopes another sip or two will give him the fortitude to see this through. “We can do stuff like this more often. I bet the city has way better booze.”
Li blinks at him slowly, uncomprehending. He has very pretty eyes, light for an Earth Kingdom boy. “Why are you even doing this with me right now? Shouldn’t you be drinking with your friends?”
Sudden suspicion is not the reaction Jet was hoping for. But it makes sense, for a boy like Li. Jet wonders if he ever lets his guard down.
“They’re not big drinkers,” Jet waves the question off. “Like I said, I wanna get to know you better. You were amazing yesterday.”
The suspicion drops into something more confused. “Amazing?” Li repeats.
“Yeah. You’re incredible with your swords. I can tell you’ve put a lot of work into mastering them. I like people who are…devoted to their craft.”
“Oh…” Li clears his throat, sounding suddenly flustered. This is the reaction Jet was looking for. “Well…like my uncle said, I just practice a lot…”
“I can tell,” Jet flashes a small smile. “I’d love to have a friendly spar one of these days. If you’re up for it.”
His thumb rubs small circles into the top of Li’s hand as he speaks. Li hardly seems to notice, looking up at Jet with his bright, lightly glazed eyes. The wine has gotten to both of them, it seems, no matter how unaffected he seems.
“Okay,” Li agrees, voice oddly hushed. He’s closer than he was before they started drinking, less than a foot of space between them.
He just looks at Jet, curious and expectant, like he’s waiting for something to happen. There’s only one thing he could be waiting for, right?
“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he says softly, leaning into Li’s space.
“What’re you doing!?” Li sputters, whole body locking up.
Jet knows he should tread carefully, but his head is warm with wine and Li seems like the type to appreciate the truth. And he doesn’t wanna get punched or something; he’s sure Li has a nasty swing.
“Well,” he says lowly, ducking his head as though telling a secret. “Mostly, I’m trying to kiss you.”
“What?” Li’s loud voice fills the small closet, pink blooming on his unscarred cheek.
“I’ve been flirting with you all night,” Jet laughs; Li just blinks at him incredulously. “You seriously haven’t noticed?”
Li inhales like he’s going to speak, but nothing comes out. His mouth snaps shut and he looks away, shaking his head minutely.
“Of course not,” he sounds irritated. “I didn’t think…nobody’s ever…”
He trails off, jaw clenching in embarrassment. It makes Jet strangely sad, to think that no one’s ever flirted with the guy before. From their current track record, he privately thinks it’s more likely that Li has just never noticed anyone flirting with him before, but he’s not gonna be an asshole. Not about this.
Jet puts the bottle down. It clinks against the floor, nearly empty. Slowly, as though approaching a scared, wild animal, he reaches out and puts his newly free hand on Li’s knee. The boy goes impossibly still, frozen like the ice Katara encased him in—no, don’t think about that—but he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t push him off or stand up and storm out. Jet takes this as a sign of encouragement.
“Hey,” he whispers, voice pitched low and soothing. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be shy.”
“I’m not shy,” Li snaps loudly, cheeks all red and refusing to make eye contact.
Jet swallows a smile—no need to scare him off—and leans a tiny bit closer. He wets his lips instinctually. Li’s eyes dart down to follow the movement, wide and slightly scared. Which isn’t exactly the reaction he was hoping for. He doesn’t want Li to be scared of him.
“It’s okay,” he repeats. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. You just seem so…tense, so serious all the time. You deserve to enjoy yourself a little, don’t you think?”
Because Li isn’t the type of boy to be forced into something, and Jet would never try. He just needs a little encouragement. He needs to be able to make the choice himself. Jet understands that.
Li swallows. Jet watches the line of his throat. Drags his gaze up the length of his neck, his mouth, finally catching Li’s wide eyes. He almost crows at the conflicted desire he sees reflected in them. Li is a little bit nervous, but he wants this as much as Jet does.
“Do you want me to kiss you, Li?”
“I…um…” Li croaks. He swallows again. The air is still and so thick with tension Jet could cut it with his swords. Slowly, Li nods, like he can’t bring himself to say the words.
Jet resists the urge to tease him a little, to ask okay? and make him say it out loud. Instead, he leans forwards and presses a soft kiss to Li’s mouth, just the slightest brush of their lips.
There is a beat where the whole world holds its breath, and then Li comes alive beneath him. He surges forwards, grabbing Jet by the shoulders and tugging him closer. Jet goes willingly, forcing down a triumphant laugh and gets his fingers in Li’s short hair, tilting his head to kiss him again.
Li kisses like he’s never done it before in his life. Li kisses like they’re fighting, hands fisted in the fabric of Jet’s shirt and eyes shut tight, brow furrowed as if he’s in pain. Jet thinks he’s pretty.
Their teeth click, open-mouthed, and Li jerks back in surprise. Jet grins at him a little so he doesn’t laugh. Li doesn’t smile back, but that’s okay. Li hasn’t smiled once since they’ve met, not even at his uncle.
“Sorry,” Jet murmurs, and leans back in. He presses Li further against the wall, bracketing him in so he won’t run away. Li doesn’t seem like the type to be pinned down but something about him makes Jet want to try anyway.
Li tenses up again at the enclosure, so Jet kisses him again, and again, and again, licking into his open mouth and swallowing the boy’s gasps. Follow my lead, he doesn’t say, but Li seems to hear him anyways.
Teaching the other boy how to kiss isn’t something Jet thought he would have to do, but it somehow makes the whole experience better. He’s the first person to ever do this, he thinks, tipsy on the wine and the quiet noises Li is trying and failing to hold in. Li is a quick study, too, once he’s put his mind to it. He gets both hands in Jet’s hair and tugs and then Jet’s brain stops working altogether.
*
They make it back up to the deck just before lights out.
“Nephew,” Mushi greets when he sees them, sounding relieved. “There you are. I was starting to fear you decided to swim the rest of the way to the city.”
“That’s stupid,” Li grumbles, rolling his eyes.
Jet laughs briefly, humoring the old man where his nephew won’t.
“Don’t worry,” Jet says with a grin, putting a friendly hand on Li’s back, “I made sure to keep an eye on him.”
It comes out just on the wrong side of smug. Jet watches in amusement as Mushi briefly loses his silly old man demeanor, looking between the two of them. With their rumpled clothes and messy hair, it’s not a difficult conclusion to draw. He sees the moment that the old man’s eyes find the bruise Jet had worried into the skin of Li’s neck with his teeth, barely peeking out from the collar of his robes. Li had hissed and told him to be careful but hadn’t actually stopped him from doing it.
Mushi seems to want to say something, but visibly holds himself back. He gives Jet a thoughtful, narrow-eyed look, and Jet just grins wider, innocent as can be.
“Well,” he says, turning his attention to Li, who has sat down and is rolling out his bed mat, oblivious to it all. “I guess we should be getting to bed. “See you later, Li.”
“Whatever,” Li says, but Jet can tell he’s flustered even in the dark. He feels Mushi’s stare on his back as he goes to find his friends and savors the lingering taste of wine—and Li—on his lips.
It’s a good night.
*
He seeks Li out again the next day, unable to keep himself away and not really trying to. Spirits know there’s nothing else to do on this stupid boat. His friends don’t seem nearly as enamored with the boy as Jet is, but they also didn’t spend hours kissing him in a storage closet last night, so he understands their hesitation
Beyond any physical attraction, though, there’s something about Li that makes Jet want to hold onto him and never let him go. He wants Li by his side. They could conquer the city together if they tried. Jet wants to try.
He just wants. He’s overwhelmed by the force of his want. He’s never met someone and felt so instantly connected to them before, felt so completely alike. Li is just like Jet. Li has been hurt and Li has been branded and Li is so angry because of it, so scarred and jaded and sad and angry. Jet wants him so badly it feels like it might burn him up.
If Li doesn’t join them in the city he doesn’t know what he’ll do with himself, so he doesn’t think about it. He doesn’t think about how they’ll reach the port later today. Instead, he takes Li by the hand and leads him around the side of the ship to crowd him against the wall and kiss him again.
Li responds enthusiastically, if a bit shyer than he was last night. The lack of wine makes it all more vivid. Li’s mouth is warm, his hands are warm and his fingers calloused.
“What was that for?” Li asks with a small frown when Jet pulls back.
Jet grins. “Just felt like it,” he says instead of I needed to make sure last night wasn’t just a fluke.
Li keeps frowning, cheeks the slightest shade of pink, and then he’s pushing Jet away with a hand on his chest.
“Wait,” he says, “I’m mad at you.”
“Yeah?” Jet fiddles with a spiky strand of Li’s hair, smirking when Li slaps his hand away. “Why’s that?”
“I told you to be careful, asshole.” Jet’s eyes dart down to the bruise on Li’s neck as Li pulls his collar open. “My uncle saw.”
“So what?”
“So, he tried to give me a talk about it,” Li sounds so mortified Jet almost laughs. “With proverbs. It was terrible.”
“I’ll be more careful next time,” he promises.
“Next time?”
There’s something that Jet might call hope wavering dangerously in Li’s eyes. Disbelief in the idea that Jet would want to press him into a wall and leave another mark, like Jet didn’t literally bring him here to do just that.
“Yeah,” Jet says, smiling that smile that made Katara blush and melt in his arms. Li does not melt, but the blush is the same, if a bit angrier. “Next time.”
He doesn’t know what that means, exactly, but he knows he doesn’t want whatever this is to stop when they reach the city. It’s not the right time to pop the Freedom Fighters question, but Jet can almost taste the victory on Li’s lips.
*
He convenes with his friends for lunch—the last bowl of rotten broth they’ll have to eat, he thinks. They’ll eat like kings every day in Ba Sing Se. They’ll never go hungry again.
The captain comes down from his perch to let them all know that they’ll be arriving at the city port soon. The crowd doesn’t cheer with excitement or anything, but there’s a palpable feeling of relief and anticipation in the air. Jet looks around for Li. Doesn’t find him amongst the other refugees, Mushi talking with a woman and her young son, which means he’s probably at the railing again.
Jet is right, of course. Near the bow of the ship, this time, gazing out at the fog. Jet approaches him once again, the last time they’ll look out at the water like this. He wonders absently if there are any little lakes in Ba Sing Se, or maybe some open fields. He’s learned that Li likes to brood. Jet would hate for him to have no scenic views to watch while he does.
“Y’know, as soon as I saw your scar, I knew exactly who you were,” Jet starts.
Li goes still, looking at Jet out of the corner of his eye. Jet comes to a stop beside him, an echo of the night they met. Was it really only a few days ago? Jet feels like he’s known Li all his life. “You’re an outcast, like me. Us outcasts have to stick together. We have to watch each other’s backs, because no one else will.”
There’s a beat of contemplative silence. Li doesn’t turn to look at him when he answers. “I’ve realized lately that being alone isn’t always the best path.”
Jet smiles around the stalk between his lips. You’ll never have to be alone again, he doesn’t say. It’s too much for right now. It isn’t the right time.
Soon, though, he thinks. Soon they will start their new life. Their second chances. They’ll survive the city together, Jet and Bee and Longshot and Li. Four is a good number.
He shifts ever so slightly closer to the boy beside him, shoulders brushing. He fights the urge to reach out and touch. Soon, he reminds himself. It’ll all fall into place.
Jet stands and watches and waits, waits, waits for that great wall to appear through the fog, counting down the minutes until his new life will begin, free from the Fire Nation.
*
They reach Ba Sing Se around midday. The port is a crowded buzz of refugees, men and women and young adults. Crying children; children that aren’t crying, small faces grave; children huddled in groups, with no one but each other. Jet, Bee and Longshot fit right in amongst the rabble.
“I think Li would make a good Freedom Fighter,” Jet says as they step off the ferry, eyes following the boy in question. “He’s just trying to find his way in the world, like us.”
“You don’t know anything about him, Jet,” Smellerbee points out beside him.
“I know he didn’t get that scar from a waterbender.” It’s a flippant remark, but it does its job. Bee winces minutely. All three of them have seen scars, but Li’s is something else.
“I thought we were going straight now.”
“We are,” Jet insists. “And the new Freedom Fighters could use a guy like Li.” He turns to his oldest friend, always willing to hear him out. “What do you think, Longshot?”
Longshot gives him a long, measured look. His eyes speak of worry, of doubt and betrayal and the constant need for vigilance.
“I can respect that,” Jet says.
Longshot gives a little shrug of his shoulder, gravity melting away; he lifts his eyebrows in a way that suggests teasing as he looks between him and the general direction Li has gone—it seems they haven’t been nearly as sneaky as they thought they were—and then gives him a light shove. It’s the closest thing to an agreement he’s going to get, so Jet gives an unrepentant shrug and goes to find his newest recruit.
He’s with his uncle, of course, sitting on one of the stone benches around the pillars. He glances up when he hears Jet approaching. He doesn’t look excited to see him, necessarily, but his shoulders lose a bit of their tension.
“Hey,” Jet greets. “Can I sit?”
He wouldn’t normally ask like this, but he needs this conversation to go well. Li shrugs. Jet sits—a bit closer than he strictly needs to, their thighs brushing.
“So, you guys got plans once you’re in the city?”
Li opens his mouth—probably to complain—but is interrupted by a man pushing a cart, yelling about tea. Mushi waves his hand excitedly in the man’s direction and orders some jasmine.
Jet is wondering if his friends might like any—Longshot’s always enjoyed a cup of tea—but Mushi’s grimace at his first sip changes his mind. “Coldest tea in Ba Sing Se, more like! What a disgrace.”
Li rolls his eyes at the old man’s antics, seeming to forget about Jet’s question. Jet knows he’s not gonna get anywhere with the uncle around, so he pushes himself to his feet.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” he asks, gesturing for Li to stand. Li sighs, but still stands and follows him. Jet finds some space a ways away from the old man where they won’t be overheard.
“So I’ve been thinking,” he starts, putting on a sincere but not overbearing air. “I like you a lot, Li. And I’m pretty sure you like me, too. We have a much better chance of making it in the city if we stick together. Do you wanna join the Freedom Fighters?”
There’s a beat of silence, where Li’s face goes through a series of quick emotions that Jet doesn’t know him well enough to decipher. Jet holds his breath.
“Thanks,” Li finally says, “But I don’t think you want someone like me in your group.”
For a moment, Jet doesn’t understand what he’s hearing. It sounds like Li is saying no.
“What are you talking about?” Jet asks. “Of course I do. We made a great team on the ferry. Think of all the good we could do in the city together.”
Think of all the good we could do for each other. Didn’t Li just say he doesn’t want to be alone?
“I said no,” Li snaps, and then sighs. “Look, I appreciate the offer. But I just can’t.”
“Why not?” Jet demands, hating how desperate he sounds.
Li’s eyes are apologetic but resolute. “I can’t leave my uncle.”
“You don’t have to leave him. We can stay close by. And you don’t have to live with us or anything, I just want—“ I want you to stay, Jet thinks but doesn’t say, I need you to stay, I want you I want you I want you. “Just give it some thought, okay? Sleep on it.”
“My answer won’t change,” Li says simply, like he isn’t ripping Jet’s shriveled up heart in two.
It feels like his world is crashing down around him, the ideal little life in the city he’s made up for himself over the last two days dead in the water before it even had a chance.
“Fine,” Jet snaps, harsher than he meant. “Fine. Have it your way. I’ll still see you in the city, right?”
The line of Li’s mouth softens the slightest amount. “Sure.”
It isn’t exactly a resounding yes, but Jet will take it. It means there’s still a chance to change his mind. He can make it work.
“I should be getting back,” Li says after a moment of charged, slightly awkward silence.
“Right. See you, then.”
Li gives him an awkward little wave and then turns on his heel and walks away, spine straight and head held high, eye catching in the crowd of beaten down refugees. He doesn’t even look back.
Jet watches him go despite it all, despite the sour taste of rejection churning in his stomach. He just doesn’t understand. They could be so good together, all of them. He knows that Li feels it too, the strange spark between them. He has to. Jet can’t be the only one.
His eyes follow Li all the way back to uncle, who is still sitting there sipping on his tea, steam rising from the cup.
Steam. Rising from the tea that was cold just moments ago. Tea that is now hot.
Firebender, all of Jet’s instincts scream, alarms going off in his head and the memory of smoke in his lungs. Firebender, firebender, firebender!
The first thing Jet feels is fear.
The second is overwhelming rage.
The third is fear, again, when his eyes catch on Li’s scar and he thinks about how Li was hurt by a firebender and how his uncle is a firebender—if they’re even related. They barely look alike. They must not really be related. If they are, that means Li—
No, he thinks. There’s no way. Li was hurt and burned and scarred by a firebender. He can’t be one. There must be some explanation.
The scar, the old man’s vigilance, Li’s unhappiness—there’s a shaky image forming in his head that he doesn’t like at all. Li must be in some kind of trouble. He had seemed so miserable on the ferry, so angry and lonely, but Jet hadn’t considered he might actually be here against his will.
Jet turns and stalks away, suddenly unable to even look at them. His mind races, revisiting all the little moments on the ferry and casting them in a new light: Li’s discomfort at the old man’s talk of a new life; the way the old man constantly checked in on him, as though making sure he wasn’t going to sneak away; Li’s insistence that he didn’t want to be here, that he didn’t want to go to Be Sing Se. Li’s refusal to join them, citing his uncle as a reason why.
I can’t leave my uncle, he said. Not that he didn’t want to. That he can’t.
He knows that Li is more than capable of defending himself and could probably get away if he tried. But if the old man is a firebender, maybe Li feels like he can’t. Maybe he’s scared to try. Maybe he has tried before and…
Li's scar is suddenly all Jet can think about. The scar, the scar, the old man’s hot hands warming his tea like he thought he could get away with firebending in the middle of a crowd.
The unease in the pit of his stomach grows and grows as he goes to find his friends.
*
The journey from Gaipan to Ba Sing Se was long and taxing. They were on foot for most of it, hitching rides in exchange for labor when they could, stowing away in the backs of wagons when they couldn’t. The Earth Kingdom is vast, the biggest Nation in the world; Jet has always known this. But he had never ventured very far outside of his village and, later, his forest. Knowing his Nation is vast and experiencing it firsthand are very different things.
It had been difficult physically, of course—their feet hurt at the end of each day and game was hard to come by outside of the forests—but it had been difficult in other ways, too. Smellerbee and Longshot were the only two of his Freedom Fighters to stick around. Everyone else had left.
Jet can remember with vivid clarity the frantic tears in Bee’s eyes as they had hammered away at the ice with their weapons, fearing retaliation from the Fire Nation soldiers in the village. He remembers the sinking feeling in his chest as his family had dispersed—slowly, slowly, and then all at once. No one felt safe in their trees anymore. No one felt safe around him anymore.
That Smellerbee and Longshot decided to come with him to Ba Sing Se is a testament to their loyalty. Maybe a testament to the fact that they had nowhere else to go. They were the first two kids he had found and made his own. He doesn’t know what he would do without them. He loves them, of course he loves them, but their constant vigilance over him on their way to the city had been grating and a bit humiliating.
They had never questioned him before. In all their years together, they had never questioned his authority. But after the fiasco with the Avatar, Longshot’s sharp eyes had spent just as much time watching him as they did the terrain around them. Smellerbee pushed back against him more, speaking up when she disagreed with him, which was much more often than she ever had before. It’s like they didn’t trust his judgment anymore. One misstep, and they didn’t trust him anymore.
He had spent the long journey trying to gain that trust back. They traded stories they had heard of Ba Sing Se and what awaited them behind those walls. They hunted together, worked together, watched each other’s backs in these strange, unfamiliar lands. They had talked around Gaipan and that dam until they couldn’t avoid it anymore. Jet had apologized, even if he hadn’t truly been sorry at first. He had been sorry eventually, grudgingly, brought on by endless space to think and endless waves of refugees.
Many of them came from villages destroyed by the Fire Nation, but many of them also came from the colonies. From villages inhabited by Fire Nation soldiers. From villages like Gaipan. Would Jet have killed them, too, if he’d had the chance to kill the soldiers there? He was scared and humbled by the answer that he found.
He had spent months regaining his friends’ trust, the last people he has in the world. He was still unquestionably their leader and they still followed his lead, but it had taken work to get to that point again. Which is why it’s so frustrating when they don’t believe him about Mushi.
“Jet, relax,” Smellerbee says, following close behind him as they weave through the station. “So the old guy had some hot tea. Big deal.”
“He heated it himself, ” Jet repeats. “I know what I saw. That man is a firebender.”
“Do you think Li is a firebender too, then?” The way she puts emphasis on Li’s name makes Jet frown.
“I only saw the old man.” Which isn’t an answer, but it’s all Jet can bring himself to think about.
“But if he’s Li’s uncle—”
“It doesn’t always run in the family.” Jet interrupts, because Li can’t be a firebender. There’s no way. How could he have a burn like that if he was a firebender? “And we don’t know if they’re even really related.”
“Why would they be traveling together if they’re not related?”
“We’re not related,” Jet argues.
“But we’re still family.”
Jet sighs. They’re getting off track. “I know we are. But Li…like I said, we know how he got that scar. And he told me doesn’t want to go to Ba Sing Se. I thought it was just ‘cause he didn’t wanna leave his home, but if the old man is a firebender…”
“You think the old guy kidnapped him or something?” Bee picks up, sounding incredulous. “Did you not see Li’s two big swords? He’s not exactly helpless.”
Jet scowls, not liking the tone she’s taking, like Jet is being ridiculous and stupid. “I don’t know. But there’s something wrong going on here. Either way, the old man is a firebender.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. Li—I don’t know. But if he is in some kinda danger, we can’t just leave him there.” Bee looks conflicted, glancing at Longshot for a long moment. Jet continues, “I just wanna figure out what’s going on. If I end up being wrong, I’ll leave it alone.”
He looks to Longshot for support. His friend’s mouth is a thin line, his brows furrowed in thought.
They never, ever talk about it, but Jet knows that Longshot’s father—if you can even use that word for the atrocity that scum inflicted on Longshot’s mother—was a Fire Nation soldier. When Jet had found out, it had taken him a long night of thinking to come to terms with it, but since then he’s never held it against him. It isn’t Longshot’s fault the Fire Nation hurt his mother. He still has her Earth blood in his veins, and Earth will always be more resilient than Fire. They don’t know if the old man is really Li’s uncle, but if anyone knows the horror of having Fire in the family, it’s Longshot.
Finally, Longshot lifts his head. He locks eyes with Jet, and then Bee, and nods resolutely.
"Fine," Smellerbee sighs, outvoted. “Y’know, for Li’s sake, I hope you are wrong about all this.”
“Me too,” Jet says, even though he knows he’s not. He knows what he saw. And if he is wrong, that means Li said no to him for no reason at all. There has to be a reason. Jet is pretty sure he knows what it is.
Ba Sing Se’s great walls stretch up and up before them. About to let a firebender inside, and no one knows but him. They pack into the train cars with the rest of the refugees. Jet hands itch for his swords. He wonders if Li feels the same way.