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.)