Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

That voice, that same raspy voice that he could recognize anywhere.

For a moment, Jet didn’t have it in him to look up. The atmosphere dropped over his head like a thousand tons of solid earth. From in front of him, the rest of the group had already gotten into fighting positions, tense and ready for confrontation.

“I know you must be surprised to see me here…”

“Not really, since you’ve followed us all over the world.” Sokka’s voice cut like a knife. Even without looking, Jet knew his eyes were cold.

“Right…well, uh…anyway…what I wanted to tell you about is that I’ve changed.”

Jet was well-hidden behind the others, still steeped in the shadows, but the voice echoed out through the empty temple easily.

He wanted to laugh; he wanted to scream. His hands itched for his swords.

He’s changed? He’s changed?

Jet was going to slit his throat.

“And I, uh, I’m good now, and well, I think I should join your group.”

Jet really didn’t know how he was holding back. It was like his body had frozen from the sheer overload of emotions flooding through him. His head felt hot, his heart pounded, but he could barely make himself breathe.

“Oh! And I can teach firebending. To you.”

Of course he could. Jet’s teeth grinded.

Jet saw Aang’s muscles loosen slightly, more in confusion than true acceptance.

“You wanna what now?” Toph.

“You can’t possibly think any of us could trust you, can you? I mean how stupid do you think we are?” Katara was practically spitting venom.

“Yeah! All you’ve ever done is try to hunt us down and capture Aang!” Sokka.

Jet really needed to hear the stories. To think that all this time, they’d known Li, they’d been running from Li, and Jet had stupidly fallen right into—

“I’ve done some good things!” Even Li didn’t seem to believe himself. “I mean, I could’ve stolen your bison in Ba Sing Se, but I set him free!”

What.

Even the exeedingly gross sound of Appa licking Li again wasn’t enough to make Jet smile.

“Appa does seem to like him…” Toph admitted.

“He probably just covered himself in honey or something so that Appa would lick him!” Sokka refuted stubbornly. “I’m not buying it!”

Jet finally unfroze. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the temple as everyone else stood still. It was impossible to miss him now, as he vaulted from the shadows, eyes blazing, teeth bared.

“Li,” he greeted, dark and bitter. “It’s been a while. You haven’t changed at all.”

Li seemed genuinely shocked to see him, even stumbling back a bit as he stalked closer than even the others dared.

Jet could feel their eyes on him, assessing, cautious.

“Jet—“

Aang’s no doubt well-meaning speech was cut off by Jet punching Li in the face.

Hell, he should’ve grabbed his swords. But who knows, maybe it would be more satisfying to strangle this traitor with his bare hands.

Li bent back with the force, but he didn’t look nearly as affected as Jet wanted, which pissed him off further. His eyes were still wide and staring, wide and golden and so obviously, disgustingly fire nation.

“You jackass! You fucking piece of—“ he punched Li again, then shook him by his clothes as Jet himself trembled with the force of his rage. “How fucking dare you show your face here!”

“Jet! What the fuck—?” Katara.

“Wow, okay.” Toph.

“Whoo! Go Jet!” Sokka cheered. “Never thought I’d say that…”

“Whoa! Jet, back off—“ Aang was at his back instantly, trying to pull him off of Li as Jet continued knocking him around.

Li must’ve been really shocked, because all he did for the longest time was stare.

“Jet?”

And it was his voice now, saying Jet’s name, that made Jet fall apart. His anger slipped from him, melting down his face in hot tears.

“How fucking dare you,” Jet said again, eyes shutting against the wave of grief that swept him under.

To his horror, he couldn’t seem to let go of Li’s clothes. His fists wouldn’t unclench. He was still holding Li there, keeping him unbearably close.

Li didn’t fight him. Stupid, dumbass, idiot Li, who was always so easy to rile up—Li cupped Jet’s face with a calloused hand.

His skin was warm. Firebender hands.

Jet almost threw up right then and there.

He had to leave. He had to get out of here. 

His hands unclenched and it was like he could breathe again. He stumbled back, gasping, trembling, his entire body on fire.

The others were still shouting, but it was like they were underwater now, distant and irrelevant. Jet’s world had narrowed to the shape of the boy in front of him, the one who had held his trust in his hands and burned it to ash.

“I should’ve killed you back in Ba Sing Se,” Jet whispered, voice low and ragged.

Li flinched, clothes torn, bruises forming, his eyes impossibly wide.

“I’m sorry,” Li whispered, barely audible over the rush of blood in Jet’s ears. Li’s voice was impossibly soft and it made Jet’s skin itch.

Jet hated him more for that.

He stumbled backward, away from the hand that still hovered in the air between them like it might reach again. He slapped the hand away.

“Jet!” Aang called again, catching up to him at last, worry scrawled all over his face. “Are you okay?”

Jet let out a hoarse, unsteady laugh. “No, I’m not okay, Twinkletoes.”

Sokka appeared at Aang’s shoulder, eyes darting between Jet and Li like he was trying to solve a puzzle that suddenly got way more complicated. “Wait, wait, hold up. You two know each other?”

Neither Jet nor Li responded. Jet could feel the firebender’s eyes on him, burning through him. He refused to look back.

Toph snorted, folding her arms. “Oh this is a mess.”

Li’s eyes were burning into him.

Jet finally turned around, slowly, like it cost him something. His puffy, teary eyes still remained; his expression was tight, jaw clenched, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet.

“Unfortunately,” he ground out. “I didn’t know who he was.”

Aang looked between them, eyes wide, voice hesitant. “You… you were friends ?”

Jet laughed once, sharp and humorless. “Yeah. Sure. Friends.”

Li’s face crumpled at that—just slightly.

“Is Li even your real name?”

Li flinched, like the words struck him harder than Jet’s fists ever had. His mouth opened, then closed again.

“…No,” he said finally, quietly. “It’s not.”

Jet’s expression didn’t change. He stared at Li like he was looking at a ghost, something long-dead that had clawed its way back into the world just to haunt him.

“What is it then?” he asked, hollow.

Li hesitated, eyes flicking briefly to the others—Aang, Katara, Sokka, even Toph—and then back to Jet. He looked suddenly younger, smaller, stripped bare in front of all of them.

“…Zuko,” he said. “My name is Zuko.”

The silence that followed was so loud it felt like the temple itself was holding its breath.

“Zuko,” Jet repeated, the word like ash in his mouth. “Right. Prince Zuko.”

The title hung in the air like a bad smell.

And then Zuko looked up—eyes shining with something too soft, too wounded. “I’m glad you’re alive, Jet.”

Jet’s breath caught like he’d been stabbed. He didn’t speak. Couldn’t. His throat felt like it had closed around the ache.

He didn’t run.

He just walked—past the shocked stares of his friends, past Appa, past the memory of everything he could’ve had if the world hadn’t been so cruel.

Li didn’t follow.

(Jet tried not to wish he had.)

Chapter Text

“All I know is,” said Toph, “is that while he was talking to us, he was sincere. Maybe you’re all just letting your hurt feelings keep you from thinking clearly.”

“Easy for you to say!” Katara replied angrily. “You weren’t there when he had us attacked by pirates!”

“Or when he burned down Kiyoshi island!” Sokka added.

“Or when he tried to capture me at the fire temple!” Aang.

Toph’s voice was calm, firm. “I’m just saying. I felt him, remember? I listened. His heartbeat didn’t lie.”

Katara let out a sharp breath. “Toph, he lied to us. Over and over again. Why would you even try to defend him?” Katara threw her hands out in frustration.

“Because, Katara! You’re all ignoring one crucial fact!”

Toph marched up to Aang and pointed at him, brows furrowed.

“Aang needs a firebending teacher! We can’t think of a single person in the world to do the job, now one shows up on a silver platter, and you won’t even think about it?”

“I’m not having Zuko as my teacher.” Aang’s voice was steady and sure.

“You’re darn right you’re not, buddy!”

Toph snorted, unimpressed. “Fine. You won’t have Zuko as your teacher. Great. So what’s the plan then, Twinkletoes? Gonna master firebending by glaring at campfires really hard?”

Aang flushed but held his ground. “I just—he’s not the right person. He can’t be.”

“Because you don’t trust him, or because Katara doesn’t?” Toph asked, arching a brow.

Sokka cut in quickly, “Because none of us should! He’s Zuko ! The guy who’s tried to kidnap Aang like, what, five times?”

Toph folded her arms. “Maybe. But he hasn’t tried to kidnap anyone this week.”

Katara shot her a glare. “That’s not funny.”

“Wasn’t trying to be.” Toph tilted her head. “What I am wondering is what that whole mess was earlier with Jet.”

That shut everyone up. Even Sokka.

Toph, without turning her head, pointed toward where Jet had stormed off earlier. “He felt like he wanted to rip Zuko in half, then cry about it, then rip him in half again.”

Sokka made a face. “Yeah, that was… a lot.”

Aang hesitated. “He never said anything. But he looked… really hurt.”

“Well do you want to confront him?” Katara scoffed. “He seemed a bit less than stable the last time he saw Zuko, what makes you think his head will be any cooler than that?”

Toph shrugged. “He’s not gonna cool off without someone calling him out. Besides, we’re all sitting here trying to figure out what to do about Zuko, and he might be the only one who actually knows the guy.”

“Knows a fake version of him, more like.” Katara was unyielding, something bitter and hurt in her face as they talked about the firebender.

Sokka rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, it is weird, right? Jet hates the Fire Nation. What are the odds?”

Aang let the silence stretch before speaking again, more certain now. “We should talk to Jet. All of us. If anyone can tell us who Zuko really is, it’s him.”

Toph cracked her knuckles. “Great. And if he tries to punch anyone, I’ll sit on him.”

Sokka groaned as he pushed his feet forward. “Ugh, feelings quest. My favorite.”

Katara gave him a look but followed too, brushing dirt off her skirt. “This isn’t just about Jet. It’s about all of us. If Zuko really wants to join us, we need to know what we’re walking into.”

Toph cracked her neck and started walking without waiting. “Then let’s go hear the tragic backstory. I’m betting on at least one rainy sword fight.”

“No one’s taking that bet…” Sokka sighed.

Jet sat on a low rock with his back to them, head bowed. His sword leaned nearby in the grass, untouched. He didn’t move when they approached.

Aang cleared his throat. “Jet?”

No answer.

Toph crossed her arms. “We come in peace. Mostly.”

Jet sighed. “If I say I don’t want to talk, will you all go away?”

“Nope,” Sokka said. “We’re all emotionally constipated and need answers.”

Jet finally turned to look at them, tired and wary. “This about Li?”

Katara’s arms tightened across her chest. “Yeah. It is.” She at least looked sorry to bring him up.

Jet stared down at his hands for a moment. “Then you already know all you need to know.”

Aang shifted forward, concern etched on his face. “What happened, Jet? I’ve never seen you so angry. Not even…”

“Jet,” Katara moved forward, taking his arm and holding it, compassion softening her features. “We won’t let Zuko join us. Not in a million years. But I have to know—what happened that made you so upset? I’ve never seen you like that.”

Jet’s jaw tightened. He couldn’t stop himself from pushing away from Katara’s hand. She meant well, but he couldn’t stand it right now.

For a long moment, he just stared at the forest floor like it might open up and swallow the memory whole.

“Katara, I’m going to try to say this as nicely as possible, because you’re being nice and I like you: that’s none of your business. Stay out of it.”

Katara flinched, just slightly, but she let her hand fall back to her side. Her eyes stayed on Jet, hurt flickering across her face, but she didn’t push.

“Fine,” she spat out. “Fine, don’t tell us.”

Katara took a step back, arms folding tight across her chest like armor. “I should’ve known. You’re always so cryptic—what are you so damn afraid of?”

Jet didn’t even look up. His silence said more than any outburst could have—he was shutting down, retreating behind those walls she remembered from long ago. The same ones that had kept even Smellerbee and Longshot at arm’s length.

Katara’s chest rose and fell, sharp with frustration. “You’re not protecting anyone by staying quiet. Not us, not yourself. You think being alone with it makes it easier?”

“Leave it alone, Katara,” he finally said, voice deadly calm, his tone as immovable as a mountain.

Katara threw up her hands, face scrunched in anger. “Fine! Fine, have it your way!”

With that, she marched off, steam practically shooting out of her ears.

Sokka followed after her, whistling a tune, seemingly much more unbothered. “Hey, Katara!” He called. “What’s for dinner?”

Jet just barely caught Katara telling Sokka to starve, and he restrained his lips from twitching upward.

Aang lingered behind, shifting awkwardly on his feet. He looked after Katara, then back at Jet.

“You know, I’m always here if you ever do want to talk…”

“I know Aang. If I do, you’ll be the first to know. Cross my heart.”

Chapter Text

The summer night in Ba Sing Se is hotter and thicker than fresh soup. The city doesn’t sleep—it only hushes under the weight of the humidity, stone buildings radiating the day’s warmth like they’re exhaling slowly.

Cicadas drone from unseen crevices, their chorus buzzing over the rooftops. Somewhere in the Lower Ring, a dog barks once and falls silent again.

Li is crouched low beside Jet on the curved clay tiles of a slanted roof, sweat glistening at his temples and the nape of his neck. His loose Earth Kingdom tunic clings to his back. He can still hear the faint sound of footsteps below—Dai Li agents, silent as shadows, sweeping through alleyways in search of intruders. Them.

Jet breathes hard beside him, shoulders heaving, eyes sharp with adrenaline. There’s a fresh cut on his arm, a thin crimson line glowing wet in the moonlight. “You sure they didn’t see us?” he whispers, barely audible.

“I’m sure,” Li replies, though his eyes flicker toward the alley again. His voice is low, gravel-thick, the kind of quiet forged in fire and forged again in hiding.

A bead of sweat runs down his spine. He shifts, uncomfortable, and the tiles beneath them creak slightly. Jet winces at the sound. The two fall still, watching the streets from above. The air is oppressive, but neither speaks again for a long moment.

From this height, the city seems endless—rooftops folding over each other like waves, lanterns glowing dim behind paper screens. The sky is clouded, stars faint, the moon swollen and low, stained yellow.

“I hate this place,” Jet says finally, quietly.

Li doesn’t answer right away. He watches the path of a Dai Li agent melting into shadow like smoke, the way the city swallows things. Then he mutters, “Yeah. Me too.”

Jet turns slightly, just enough to glance at him, something unreadable in his face. “Why’d you come to the city, huh?”

Li doesn’t look back. His golden eyes stay fixed on the horizon, where the walls of Ba Sing Se cut the sky like a scar.

“Same reason as anyone—a fresh start. A better life.”

Jet snorts, a short, humorless sound. “Doesn’t look like it’s working out for you.”

Li finally turns his head, just a little. The moonlight catches the sharp line of his jaw, the dark fringe of his hair sticking to damp skin. “Does it feel like it’s working out for you?”

Jet goes quiet, the ghost of a smirk fading from his face. He tilts his head back, stares up at the murky sky. The stars are nearly invisible tonight, swallowed by city smoke and summer haze.

“Nah,” he admits. “Not really.”

There’s a strange sort of honesty between them now, brittle but real.

Jet shifts slightly on the roof tiles, the heat making everything stick and scrape in ways that feel too loud. “This city’s fucked up, Li.”

Li doesn’t deny it. He just stares out over the rooftops, looking like he’s searching for something he never finds.

After a moment, Jet exhales, long and slow. “You ever think about just… getting out? Leaving Ba Sing Se behind?”

Li’s eyes are unreadable in the dark. They look like amber and sunflowers and anything but flame. “All the time.”

“Then why don’t you?”

Li doesn’t say anything for a long time. The cicadas keep droning. Somewhere nearby, laundry flaps in the warm breeze like ghosts.

He looks down at his hands, fingers curled against the rough tile. The silence stretches so long Jet almost thinks he won’t answer.

Then, quietly, Li says, “Because running doesn’t fix anything.”

Jet wakes up with a cold sweat. For a moment, it’s like the humidity of the city is still sticking to his skin, soaked into the marrow of his bones. The taste of ash is in his mouth. The cicadas are still buzzing in his ears.

But when he blinks, it’s not stone walls or crooked rooftops he sees.

It’s the wide, open sky of the Western Air Temple above him—upside down temples clinging to cliffs, morning mist curling between spires. Cool mountain air, not sticky heat.

No green-glowing lanterns. No Dai Li creeping through cracks in the earth.

His breath comes fast anyway, sharp and uneven. His shirt sticks to his back with sweat. He sits up, slowly, rubbing at his chest like that could erase the heaviness sitting on his lungs.

Across the stone courtyard, Toph is snoring softly, curled under a thin blanket. Sokka’s arm is slung over his face, his mouth open mid-dream. Katara is awake, sitting near the edge of the temple, wrapped in a shawl and watching the horizon.

From somewhere behind him, there’s the soft pad of footsteps. He doesn’t turn, not right away, but the voice that follows is low and cautious.

“Nightmare?”

It’s Katara. Her voice doesn’t carry judgment. Just tired understanding.

Jet nods once, slow. “Yeah.”

A pause. Then: “Ba Sing Se?”

He huffs a bitter breath. “Isn’t it always?”

She doesn’t answer right away, and he finally glances back to see her standing there, arms wrapped around herself, hair loose over one shoulder. The mist paints her edges soft and silver. She doesn’t look surprised.

“The Dai Li, then.”

He pauses, the bitter taste not leaving his mouth. “No.”

Katara is a smart girl. Her eyes flicker with understanding, and she doesn’t push, doesn’t ask more questions.

Instead, she takes a deep breath, turning her gaze toward the horizon where the first light of dawn begins to paint the sky.

The silence between them is heavy, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“Has anyone seen Toph?”

The morning mist still clung to the Western Air Temple, cool and damp against the cliffs. They were all gathered in the courtyard, standing or sitting in a loose circle around the pot of steaming rice Katara was tending. The fire crackled beneath it, a quiet counterpoint to the birdsong drifting through the air.

“Nope,” said Jet, bouncing his foot.

Sokka yawned dramatically, arms stretched wide. “I haven’t seen her since she stormed off yesterday.”

Jet glanced up from where he stood. He hadn’t said much since breakfast started, just listened. He was still figuring out the rhythm of this group—still figuring out how he fit.

“Maybe she’s just exploring the air temple,” said Haru, gesturing grandly. “There are some pretty fun spots to practice earthbending.”

Jet eyed Haru, still not entirely sure who he was or why he was there. He was polite enough, earnest and steady, but Jet hadn’t caught the thread of his story yet.

Katara’s worry didn’t abate. She looked down. “I think we should go look for her.”

“Ah, let her go have fun with her rocks!” Sokka dismissed. “I’m in no rush to have her yelling at us again!”

“We can go check for her!” Volunteered The Duke.

“Yeah!” Said yet another person Jet was still confused about being here. “I wanna ride that tunnel down that hall of statues again. It’ll work a lot better now that I’ve fixed my breaks.”

The three earth nation kids sped off in a blur of enthusiasm, feet pounding or wheels spinning down the stone corridor.

Jet was left standing there, in the thinning mist, stranded with Katara and Sokka.

Then, a rumble echoed from the wall behind them. A chunk of the stone façade cracked and collapsed in a cloud of dust. Everyone jerked back as, with a burst of earth and rubble, Toph shot out of the wall in a curled ball of stone, landing in a heap on the courtyard floor.

“Toph!” Katara rushed forward, bowl of rice forgotten. “What happened?”

Toph groaned, uncurled herself, and shoved off a chunk of fallen rock. “My feet got burned !”

Jet moved before he could think.

The second Toph’s words hit the air— my feet got burned —something twisted low in his chest. He dropped his bowl with a sharp clatter and crossed the courtyard in a few strides, crouching beside her, eyes scanning the soles of her feet, then flicking up to her face.

“Oh no! What happened?” Katara rushed over to his side, inspecting the damage with a shocked and worried frown.

“I just told you!” Toph gritted. “My feet got burned!”

“I meant how.” Katara glared, which Jet thought was kind of unnecessary. It wasn’t like Toph could see it.

“Well…I kind of went to see Zuko Last night,” she admitted.

Blood rushed in Jet’s ears.

“You what ?” he said, his voice razor-thin.

Toph pushed herself up on her elbows, grimacing. “I went to see Zuko. ”

“You WHAT?” Repeated Aang helpfully, gaping in shock.

“Zuko?” Katara backed away slightly in horror.

Sokka made a wordless noise of confusion.

“I just thought he could be helpful to us. And…if I talked to him, maybe we could work something out!”

“So he attacked you?” Jet didn’t sound angry. He sounded deadly calm, even to himself.

Their eyes all flickered to Jet as he spoke, as if remembering, warily, how well Jet had reacted to Zuko’s presence before.

“Well…he did, and he didn’t.” Toph cringed, looking sympathetic. “It was sort of an accident.”

Jet’s jaw tightened. His hands clenched at his sides, knuckles pale. That deadly calm stayed in place like ice beneath his skin, but his voice had the edge of a blade.

“How the hell was that an accident?” Jet growled out as he paced, laying a cool hand on his head, which felt so hot it was almost feverish.

“It looked like it was a reflex. He pulled it back, but it was too late. I wasn’t fast enough.”

Jet stopped pacing, shoulders tense, hand still gripping the back of his neck like he could wring the heat out of himself. His breath came sharp through his nose, and for a moment, he just stood there, back to them, as if the shape of his anger was too big to face head-on.

“He didn’t mean to hurt me,” Toph said, quietly now. “He looked terrified when he realized.”

“But he did firebend at you.” Aang said.

She sighed. “Yes.”

“See?” Sokka said, lecturing, “You trusted Zuko and you got burned!” He paused. “Literally!”

“It’s going to take a while for your feet to get better,” Katara informed Toph sadly. “I wish I could’ve worked on them sooner.”

“Yeah, me too,” Toph agreed emphatically, looking mournful.

“Zuko’s clearly too dangerous to be left alone,” said Sokka. “We’re going to have to go after him.”

“I hate to go looking for a fight,” said Aang, looking genuinely distraught. “But you’re right. After what he did to Toph…I don’t think we have a choice.”

“He’s crafty,” said Sokka. “But we’ll find a way to capture him.”

Jet didn’t wait to hear the rest.

His boots scraped against the stone as he turned on his heel and strode off, fast and sharp, without a word.

“Jet!” Katara called after him, but he didn’t stop.

Jet didn’t storm off into a hallway. He made for the edge.

“Jet!” Katara shouted again, rushing to follow—but he was already at the edge of the temple’s inverted courtyard, looking down into the mist where tree canopies swayed far below.

Aang rose halfway to his feet. “Should we—?”

“No,” Katara said, biting her lip. “Let him go. He’s not going to listen to any of us right now.”

“Man, why did we let him come with us again?” Sokka whined.

Aang and Sokka carried Toph over to the fountain, setting her on the edge so her feet settled in the water.

“Ah, that’s the stuff! Now I know how the rest of you guys feel—not being able to see with your feet stinks!”

Katara glanced toward the shadowed path where Jet had disappeared. “Jet’s not going to let this go. Not after Ba Sing Se.”

Sokka grimaced. “Well, he’s not exactly Mr. Stability either. What if he finds Zuko first?”

They all went quiet. They all went quiet as they imagined just how bad that would be.

“Then,” Katara said at last, eyes hardening, “we need to find Zuko before he does.”