Title : Anniversary

Series : Legend of Korra

Characters : Smellerbee, Longshot, Jet, Freedom Fighters

Paring : Smellershot

Rating : T

Sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, Smellerbee ran a cloth down the length of her sword one more time, to ensure that every inch gleamed perfectly. She'd been at it all morning, polishing and sharpening her various weaponry, and occasionally the weapons of her fellow Fighters. It was a weekly habit of hers, and her brothers and sisters appreciated the effort. Though it seemed like grunt work, Smellerbee enjoyed it immensely. It gave her something to focus on; the smoothness of the steel, the overwhelming scent of oil, the way the light caught against the blades and sent sparkles dancing throughout her living room. She smiled fondly and set down the sword, leaning back against her hands and looking around the room. Weapons surrounded her, all in various stages of wear and tear, some of them glinting in a pristine readiness. Over ten years as a Freedom Fighter and here she was, sitting at home and cleaning weapons. Of course, back when she was a child there was little need for it. Always running and hiding. But now that the Fighters were a stable and valued force, Smellerbee could take pleasure in these things.

"We've come a long way..." She said to no one in particular, letting herself fall back onto the floor and hooking her arms behind her head. The windows were wide open, warm sunlight coming from across the room and shining down on her prone body. Like this, it almost felt like the old days, where she could lounge in the trees all morning, breathing in the fresh air smelling of green things, listening to her friends' happy chatter from all around her. A soft ache came to her chest, and frowned. Memories were nice, but she didn't like to dwell on them that much. She wondered what sparked that particular trail of memories.

A faint rustle came from overhead, but Smellerbee didn't tense up, as she might've when she was younger. Instead she smiled slowly, opening both eyes and tipping her head back to see a tall upside down figure silhouetted by the sunlight. She didn't need to see to know who it was.

"Hey, Longshot. Back already?" Her soft voice greeted, the sound of it smoky and hoarse, which had only seemed to deepen with age. Smellerbee rolled over and sat upright, grinning with half of her mouth to the male still standing silently before her. He was tall, one of the tallest guys she knew, shoulders broad and hair slicked back into a tight ponytail, visible now that he wasn't wearing his hat. His face was devoid of all emotion, and he didn't speak. Simply lifting both his arms to bring Smellerbee's attention to the swaths of cloth draping each one. On his right arm was a dark green color, and the other was an earthy brown. When Smellerbee only stared at them, Longshot lifted his arms again, eyebrows lifting once, prompting her.

"What are those for?" She asked dumbly, making the male sigh silently and step aside to let the sun from the window nearly blind her. Raising an arm to shield herself, she peered from the open window to Longshot. His eyes flicked to the side to indicate the windows, then he gave his arms a shake again. The windows. Which color do you want for the windows?

"Oh right..." Smellerbee frowned, remembering their were supposed to be redecorating today. And she'd already made a mess of the living room with the Fighters' weapons. Pushing herself up to stand, hands brushing at invisible dirt on her backside, she walked over to the window to peer outside to the warm, midday chatter of Ba Sing Se. It had taken years, but with Longshot's help, the two of them had finally settled into their own home. Achieving their shared desire to 'start over' within the big, peaceful city. But for some reason, Longshot had begun expressing a desire to redecorate. Starting with drapes. Smellerbee frowned again, turning around to look at him, still standing with his arms displaying the different colors. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, feeling the sun hot against the back of her messy-haired head.

"Why are you asking me?" She winced, not good at home décor. If she had it her way the entire house would probably be as plain as when they bought it, all drab greens and dull wood. The house hadn't quite been a home until Longshot had put effort into it. The man twitched his lips, looking bored and amused at the same time. It's our house. You should have a say in it.

Smellerbee almost pouted. Glancing from one color to the next. Green was always nice, especially with the earth kingdom style of the house. But brown... Her eyes strayed to the rich dark color, reminding her of trees and earth. Of times where her life was wild and full of excitement. And for some reason it reminded her of a fuzzy brown head of hair, belonging to a head that smiled smugly, a stick of wheat hanging from his teeth as he inspired a desire for justice within her heart.

"Brown...I guess." She mumbled, feeling that ache again. Her expression must have fallen, because the light amusement in Longshot's eyes went quizzical. But he nodded firmly and folded the green cloth, setting it aside. He then brushed passed her to move to the window, reaching his long arms up to begin fixing the new drapes to the sides of the window. Feeling strange, Smellerbee sat on the windowsill and watched him work quietly. She'd been feeling off all week, it was starting to worry her. Less and less was she allowing herself time to think about the past, because it would always leave a lonely ache in her chest that she was not at all comfortable with. But why now? For the rest of the year she was fine, only going into her usually huffy mood when her birthday came around and the Fighter's insisted on celebrating. But this was different. She felt almost...lost.

Longshot seemed to sense her unease, because he stopped working, dropping his arms to stare down at Smellerbee's much smaller height. She used to make such a fuss about their distinct height difference, having grown a lot slower, and a lot less, than Longshot when adolescence hit. But she eventually got over it, instead deciding to be proud standing next to such a formidable form. However, now it just made her feel tiny, fragile. She wrapped her arms around herself before Longshot reached out to touch her.

"I'm...gonna take a nap. Wake me up when you're done, 'kay?" She murmured, walking around him and towards the stairs. She felt, rather than heard, Longshot's questioning stare at her retreating back. What about the weapons?

"I'll finish later," she answered quietly, fleeing up the stairs and to the bedroom. More green greeted her, a dark masculine shade that was mostly Longshot's doing. Smellerbee collapsed onto the wide bed pushed up in front of the a window and rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling blankly. An odd tension seeped out of her chest as she released a heavy sigh, letting her mind relax until she quickly drifted off.

The air was damp, and it smelled like cold rock and iron. Like a prison, only not. The big room echoed every noise endlessly, the heavy, painful breaths of a man breathing himself to death. Fear reached up and tightened at Smellerbee's neck as she opened her eyes, now filling with tears as she recognized that sound. She was kneeling beside a man on the floor, prone and chest barely lifting with his ragged breaths. His face was contorted in pain as looked up at her. And he smiled.

"Jet..." she choked, just not realizing she'd been silently sobbing, tears dripping onto his shoulder. "You're gonna be okay..." she whispered, petting his head gently as if he were fragile enough to break. Funny. Jet never seemed fragile before. Far from it. But now, she was afraid he'd break apart if she even breathed on him. The man chuckled, stopping when his body started to convulse violently. Smellerbee's chest clenched, dread so thick in her that she couldn't breathe. Longshot stood behind her, but he made no move to get closer. The three of them knew. He wasn't going to be okay.

"Hey..." Jet finally spoke after he'd nearly coughed his heart into stopping. His breaths were shallow, rattling around in lungs that were starting to fail. Whatever had hit him, had clearly broken something vital. And Katara's healing hadn't helped. "Can you do something for me?" Jet's voice was so faint, barely there. Smellerbee stifled a sob, cupping a hand over her mouth. This wasn't happening.

"Hm?" Was all she could manage, shoulders shaking as she tried to keep back the torrent of emotion wanting to burst free. This couldn't happen! Not when they were so close to starting over! But from the looks of it, it was happening. And there was nothing she could do about it.

"Look after the rest of the Freedom Fighters for me?" Jet asked with a weak smile, making Smellerbee gasp and hold her hand over her mouth tighter as a sob nearby broke free. She shook her head furiously. No, she couldn't do that! Jet was their leader. Now and always!

"You can do it. I taught you well enough. You'd make a much better leader than me..." he sighed, going still. Too still.

"Jet!" Smellerbee cried, reaching out to grab his shoulders. A painful breath dragged into his lungs and his eyes opened to look at her. At least, he appeared to be looking at her, but his eyes were glazed and unfocused. As if he were seeing around the corners to his own death. His peace. He smiled again. Always with that damn smiling!

"Jet, you can't leave us. We need you!" Smellerbee sobbed openly now, letting her tears fall against his chest. He looked sad for a moment, but then gently shook his head. Or tried to.

"Not...as much as you think. Stay in Ba Sing Se. You were right. This city is...great for a do-over. Help make the Freedom Fighters into something people can trust in. Can you do that for me, BeeBee?" His eyes were starting to close again, too tired to keep them open. Smellerbee cried, leaning her head down until she nearly touched his chest, still moving slowly. Satisfied, Jet's brow softened, his faint smile coming back.

"And one more thing," his voice was fainter, barely there. But they could hear it clear as day in that dark, lonely room underground. Smellerbee lifted her head to listen to him, one hand raising to push away the moisture drenching her face, sniffling loudly. Jet's eyes opened, staring up at the high ceiling without actually seeing. A wicked smile crossed his lips, almost seeming like himself again.

"Keep her safe, will you?" He asked, confusing Smellerbee. She opened her mouth to ask who, but Longshot was suddenly at her side, kneeling down to stare down at Jet, face expressionless but eyes full of sorrow.

"I will. I promise." His soft voice answered, making Jet smile and close his eyes. Smellerbee could only watch as Jet, seemingly satisfied with everything, relaxed, and went still. She stopped breathing at the same time. Eyes wide at him, waiting for him to take one more breath. To open his eyes and smile at them once more, giving them another order to go and help the avatar. Something. Anything. But he was still. So quiet. Why wasn't he moving?

"Jet?" Smellerbee whispered softly, as if she couldn't believe that her friend, her leader, was laying here in front of her and he wasn't breathing. "Jet?" She asked again in a fragile voice, sounding like a forgotten child. That's exactly what she was. She was just a child. She couldn't be on her own. She needed her leader. She needed Jet here to help keep them all together. Like old times.

"We should go." Longshot was at her side, standing again, a hand on her shoulder as he tried to lift her into standing.

"But Jet, we have to get him out of here. He's hurt. He needs Katara. She can heal him. We can't leave here without him!" She babbled, tears flowing with renewed fervor. Longshot tightened his hold on her shoulder, but she wasn't moving. "We can't leave him!" She screamed, sounding hysterical to her ears.

"Smellerbee."

"We have to help him!" She cried again, oblivious to the strong hand shaking her.

"Smellerbee, wake up."

Gasping, Smellerbee opened her eyes as she jolted awake, staring up into Longshot's concerned gaze hovering over her. She quickly pulled herself upright and pushed him aside, Longshot's usual sturdiness giving away to her angry shove and stepping aside.

"I'm okay! I'm fine," she grumbled, running her hands over her face and pushing back her thick hair, sticking to her temples with a cold sweat. She took a deep breath to wash away the raw emotion clawing at her insides, letting the heat from the setting sun warm her instead. At the side of the bed, Longshot damn near drowned her with the thick air of concern he was giving off, brows drawn tight when Smellerbee finally looked up at him.

"I said I'm alright! Just a bad dream, alright?" She grumbled, waving him off and throwing her legs off the side of the bed. He hadn't backed off, and the two of them sat in a tense silence for a minute or so. Smellerbee waiting for her nerves to go back to normal, and Longshot deep in thought. When he suddenly made for the door, Smellerbee followed him with her eyes, watching curiously as he pivoted to look at her. Come here. I want to show you something.

"What is it?" She hesitated with a frown. Longshot gave another silent sigh, opening the door and gesturing with his eyes for her to go through first. Just come see.

Rolling her eyes, Smellerbee stood and quickly shuffled passed him, hoping he was finished with the living room so she could get back to work. If she could just have that to focus on, maybe the soreness in her chest would go away. When she cleared the stairs and reentered the living room, she paused, staring in wonder at the window. Now decorated with the warm brown drapes that she'd picked out earlier. It was beautiful. There was no doubt that within the next couple of days the whole house would have new drapes. She smiled faintly.

"Nice job, Longshot. It looks—" As she turned to address him, her eyes caught sight of the wall that once held Jet's hookswords, and she faltered in a stunned silence.

The swords were still there, but they were now accompanied with a picture underneath them, and a pair of incense on either side. Breaths shallow, Smellerbee wandered blindly over to the altar now adorning their room. The man in the picture was grinning at her, Jet's signature grin, a stalk of wheat hanging from his mouth. When the scent of burning incense reached her nose, she filled her lungs with the smell, the ache in her chest softening. Jet. Their friend, leader. The single most important person in their lives, without whom they wouldn't have met. Was that what was bothering her? The fact that only a handful of Fighters knew who Jet even was? Understand what he went through? Why he started the Freedom Fighters to begin with?

Longshot's presence was suddenly behind her, and she tilted her head to look at him. His expression was softened, a faint, barely-there smile quirking his lips. It's been a long time, but I figured now was as good a time as any for an altar. Since it is an anniversary of sorts...

Smellerbee looked back to the altar, an odd comfort welling up in her chest. It all made sense now. The nightmare, the uneasy feeling. At least once a year Smellerbee's mood would decline in similar fashion. It was always around the time of year when they had lost Jet, so long ago. The memories were faint, but the ache was still there, buried within her. She smiled sadly.

"How long has it been, ten years now?" She murmured softly, just barely catching Longshot's gentle nod. Her smile grew more real, looking back toward the picture. This was good. It felt right. She would never let herself forget his sacrifice again. Closing her eyes, Smellerbee put her hands together and bowed to the picture, hearing a faint rustle behind her as Longshot undoubtedly did the same. As she lowered her arms, she felt Longshot rest a hand against her shoulder. The ache was back, but now she could smile and call it a good thing. She could finally say what she hadn't been able to before.

"Thank you, Jet. For everything." She whispered, thinking on her new life. Commanding the Freedom Fighters. Fighting for a cause. Able to go to sleep at night feeling accomplished. And wake up every morning with Longshot at her side.

As the man's arms wrapped around her from behind, she grinned up at the picture of Jet, happy tears in her eyes. Thank you.