Jet lay on the floor, taking short and ragged breaths. The moment the door closed behind Katara, he let out a cry of pain and clutched his chest. Blood stained the cloth over his broken ribs. Smellerbee looked at him desperately, unable to do anything about it. He groaned and opened his eyes very wide. "I can't... I just... I just want it to... go away..." Longshot looked at his friend, his brown eyes filled with grief. Smellerbee's entire body seemed to fall apart; her heart felt like it was in her throat, her stomach felt like it was dragging on the floor, her body tingled with anger at the Dai Li agent...

"We can't... do anything for you... Jet..." Jet let out a scream of agony. Smellerbee fell to her knees beside him. "Jet..." He ripped open his shirt, showing a bloody mess. Where the earth had hit his chest, pieces of bones were sticking out from his chest, the blood from the gashes spilling out onto the ground. The wound was so deep, you could see where the broken ribs had hit his lung.. Longshot looked away for fear of puking or passing out.

Smellerbee looked around quickly, desperately, frantically. Out of pure fear, she tride to sew his chest. She pulled a thread from Jet's pants and a dart from her bag. Using the sharp end of the dart and firm string, she stitched up the hole in his chest. Then another. And another. And all the other holes the bones in his chest had left deep into his flesh. Before long, he was no longer bleeding, but he had to take short and quick breaths to keep from stretching the skin. Longshot peaked down, and couldn't handle the sight of all the drying blood. He quickly turned away, taking several steps in the other direction from the two Freedom Fighters.

Smellerbee closed her eyes, hoping to herself that Jet would live. The fear of him dying enveloped her whole body, causing her to tremble. She knew she had to act quickly; Smellerbee took the sleeves of her shirt off and dampened it with their drinking water. She gently washed the blood off. Jet grimaced, but did not cry out. Several hours later, Jet lay propped against a wall. He could now take full and large breaths, able to fill his lungs. He was healing miraculously fast, as though a spirit was guarding his life.

Longshot and Smellerbee were no where near Jet, whispering against a wall, away from the sleeping Freedom Fighter. Or, at least, Smellerbee was whispering and Longshot was staring meaningfully back. "It isn't clean down here," Smellerbee's whispered in a hushed voice. "And the Dai Li could be back any minute to kill us off." Longshot nodded, staring into her eyes gently. "Alright," she replied quietly. Longshot gave her a small smile, and a hug to comfort her saddened heart. He then walked slowly over to Jet, who was currently sleeping uncomfortably. He shook his shoulder gently, causing the boy to jerk awake. "Wha...?" Longshot smiled calmly as Smellerbee spoke, trying to console the injured boy. "We are going to take you up top, don't worry. You'll heal faster up there."

Jet smirked. "I can walk." Smellerbee shook her head, "Jet, shut up, we're carrying you." Jet, his usual egotistical self, glared at her. "I'm going to walk." She sighed, knowing there was nothing they could do to persuade the stubborn boy to let them carry him. Using the wall for support, he slowly got to his knees, grunting in pain the whole time. Finally, he collapsed against the wall. "Fine. Help." He said, anger controlling his voice.

Longshot held the majority of the body, but Smellerbee insisted stubbornly that she could help. Longshot shrugged and agreed, knowing that disagreeing would mean they had to stay in the base a long while longer.. They lifted Jet together; he grunted in pain, but did not want to seem weak. They left the underground base and slowly climbed the stairs up to the surface. After a long struggle of climbing, they reached the top, gasping for breath from the pain and lack of energy. They looked around at the beach before them nonchalantly, but saw no other people.

So, they lifted Jet up and carried him over the sand dune at the edge of the beach. It was a struggle; their feet slid in the sand, causing them to almost drop the injured Jet to the ground. At last, they reached the top without further injuring Jet. They stopped at the nearest cottage they saw, lay Jet softly on the sand, and knocked on the wooden door. They waited several seconds before a small boy peaked through the door, cracking it open only enough to see through it.. "Who are you?" Smellerbee looked at the little boy. "You the man of this house?" The boy said, "I asked first." He puffed his chest out, although he could not have been more then eight.

Smellerbee sighed in annoyance. "I'm Smellerbee, this is Jet, and that's Longshot. Now go get your guardian." The boy glared at her. "I don't like you much." "I could care less," Smellerbee mumbled when the boy scurried off crying 'Mammi.' A few moments later, a tall and malnourished woman appeared at the door her face wrinkled with experience. She had wiry silver hair that seemed to stick out in all directions. Her face was so wrinkled, Smellerbee wondered how it held together in one piece.

Ignoring the way the woman looked, Smellerbee said calmly, "My friend here is injured from the Dai Li, and desperately needs help." The woman opened her door very wide. She whispered almost inaudibly. "An enemy of the Dai Li is a friend of mine. Please come in." Once more, Jet was lifted up and carried into the house. The elderly woman motioned towards a bed of hay with a sheet over it and Longshot set him gently down, Smellerbee also lowering her half.

The woman pulled a pot of tea off of a fire and poured it into a clay cup. She then stirred a gray liquid into it and gave it to Jet. "Drink up." she poured her and the two other Freedom Fighters cups and then sat down. Smellerbee immediately questioned the woman. "Why do you hate the Dai Li? Who are you? What did you put in Jet's tea? What are-" The woman chuckled lightly. "Oh, my dear, too many questions." Smellerbee sighed in frustration, only wishing to protect themselves. "Who are you, then?"

The woman smiled serenely. "This is my adopted son, Jethro," he climbed into her lap, "and I am Kilo the Great Healer. Or... I used to be." Smellerbee looked confused. "Used to be?" The woman nodded solemnly. "Yes. In my younger days I traveled the world healing the great leaders. When the war began, the leaders divided, and I was no longer permitted to any of the palaces." Jet looked confused, almost befuddled. "The war started almost 100 years ago. How old are you?" The woman grinned happily. "192 years old."

Smellerbee glared suspiciously, still harboring a premature hatred for the old woman. "How?" Kilo smiled. "I used my herbs. Now it's my turn for a few questions. Who are you all?" Smellerbee said hesitantly, "That's Jet, this is Longshot, and I'm Smellerbee." "Those are odd names," Kilo commented. Jet shrugged. "I was named after my grandfather." Smellerbee looked distant suddenly, as though lost in thought, "Smellerbee is what my mother used to call me." Kilo nodded. "And what is your birth name?" She shrugged. "I don't actually know."

The woman turned to the final Freedom Fighter. "And you." Longshot nodded to Smellerbee, who replied for him. "He's Longshot. Jet nick-named him for his archery." Kilo nodded. "It is nice to meet you all."

Smellerbee looked at the woman skeptically, as though despite her perky personality Smellerbee still thought she was a homicidal maniac. "I apologize... You seem like a very nice woman, but how do I know we can trust you?" Kilo paused. "How do I know I can trust you?" Jet grinned and replied, "Touche." Kilo took a sip of her tea, smiling sweetly. "You all can stay for the night. No funny business, or I'll make you leave, understood?" Her sweet voice was suddenly firm. Smellerbee nodded. "Yeah."

That night, Jet fell asleep quickly, his wounds taking his energy like a black hole sucking in everything around it, even light. The moment his snores began, Longshot and Smellerbee lit a candle. It was obvious by Jethro and Kilo's fragility that they did not have enough food to go around, so they climbed from the small window, and darted down the street to the market they had spotted. It was dark, and the food was all wrapped into bags and locked beneath the stalls. Smellerbee plucked a dart from her pocket and twisted the locks. They sprung open silently. Longshot reached in and pulled 2 bags out, slinging them over his shoulders. Smellerbee did likewise. They sneaked back to the house and set the bags silently on the tables.

Longshot wrote a quick note in his unpracticed handwriting.

Frum the spirt, paintd ladee

Smellerbee looked at the paper in envy. She couldn't read or write. "What does it say?" She asked quietly. He gave her a hug, but did not answer. The two teens sneaked back to the guest rooms and lay back down, quickly falling asleep. Earlier that day they had silently agreed that they would help this family out, for they so obviously required the assistance of someone.

If Jet had lived, one more Earth Nation family would have food again.

Author's Note: The new and revised First Chapter.