This is my first attempt at writing for ATLA. Have mercy.
Disclaimer: All characters and places are creations of Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko. Don't sue me, please.
Jet was dead.
Longshot felt it as soon as they entered the underground chamber where the Avatar was. Aang was standing next to Jet, looking dismayed. That's how Longshot knew.
Together, Smellerbee and Longshot got Jet's body out from underground and to the short sliver of sand that surrounded Lake Laogai.
It took them the remainder of the day to dig a grave.
When their deed was done, Longshot took it upon himself to construct a fire, leaving Smellerbee to herself.
She was upset, that much was clear. Longshot understood.
Jet had done so much for them both—for all of the Freedom Fighters—in the past. They had been torn from their homes and their families. Jet gave them a place to live, a new family, and a purpose.
Longshot stared at the fire he had created, remembering.
Their revenge had come at a high price. They had hurt innocent people. Jet had been driven almost to insanity by his obsession with the Fire Nation. And because of these things, the Freedom Fighters had disbanded and gone their separate ways.
Longshot was unsure if he would see any of his friends and comrades ever again.
"Hey," Smellerbee muttered, coming over and sitting next to him.
Longshot nodded his head, still focused on the flames.
Smellerbee's voice was hoarser than usual. Longshot did not need to look at her face to know she had been crying.
"What do we do now?" she asked him.
Longshot meditated on the tone of her voice. She sounded lost and young.
It occurred to the archer that they were young, by the world's standards. To many, they were still just children.
Longshot didn't feel much like a child anymore.
He shrugged in answer to her question, thinking.
What was their goal now? Their leader was gone, their family of fighters was dispersed. It was just he and Smellerbee now.
Longshot sent Smellerbee a glance, which she easily interpreted.
"I know. That's what we had decided when everyone split up. But . . . I always thought we would be starting over with Jet, not without him."
Longshot reached out and covered Smellerbee's hand with his own, giving her a tight, encouraging squeeze.
We'll figure it out.
Smellerbee nodded. She looked at Longshot.
"You won't abandon me like the others, will you?"
Longshot stared at her, feeling his expression soften.
He reached out and brushed her hair from her face. Smellerbee sighed and closed her eyes, and Longshot felt something within him stir.
It was not a foreign emotion to him. He had felt it before around Smellerbee—in fact, it only happened when she was around. Longshot knew what it was, but as much as he would like to, it was not the time to act on it.
Smellerbee eventually stood and scrounged up some food for them to eat. Lake Laogai had a healthy assortment of fish in its waters and Smellerbee easily stabbed and skinned a few with her knives.
As Longshot roasted the fish over the fire, he watched Smellerbee clean her weapons and put them away.
She was not traditionally beautiful in the way that people would think. Everything about Smellerbee was rough edges and ferocity. She was unlike any girl Longshot had ever met. It was her uniqueness that made him like her so much.
They ate their dinner in contented silence, with Longshot dousing the fire when they were finished.
They lied down in the sand next to each other, admiring the stars.
Longshot would point out constellations and Smellerbee would tell him their names. After a while, Longshot could tell Smellerbee had drifted off to sleep.
He looked down and was saddened by the tear tracks on her cheeks.
Carefully, Longshot slid his arm under her head as a makeshift pillow. Smellerbee scooted closer to him, snoring softly.
Normally expressionless, Longshot let a small smile greet his lips and he turned his head to kiss the top of Smellerbee's head.
"Tomorrow, Bee," he whispered to his sleeping friend. "We can start new."
And so they did.
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