I'll save you from the pirates

Zuko dried his hands on a dishtowel and headed into the back alley for a break. His hands were wrinkled from the numerous cups and saucers he'd been washing and his arms hurt from the heavy trays. Before he'd started this job, he'd thought that nothing would be harder than the training sessions his father put him through. It seemed that serving tea was.

Unbeknownst to the young waiter, another young man sat on the roof of the tea shop watching him. Jet, with an angry scowl attached almost permanently to his face, waited for any sign of a fire. He knew that these two, Zuko and his uncle, were firebenders. With flashbacks haunting his every idle moment, Jet dove headfirst into the plains of obsession once more. It was a familiar place, even if the loneliness wasn't. There was no one here with him, no one supporting his obsession. Fine, he thought, I don't need them. He could prove it alone.

This meant that he watched the two every moment. His vigilance and solitude was doing something to him. Jet started watching Zuko with more than a vengeful purpose. When Zuko was alone in the house, he would take his swords from under his mattress and practice in the small common room. Jet became enthralled with the smooth coordination and muscle movements. Every other time, the boy was a bucket of clumsiness or angry steps. He took on a grace that was uncommon to most and somehow twisted in a sense that he could be a swan when he held devices meant to kill.

The other part that Jet felt he couldn't miss was Zuko's night time ritual of stripping to the minimal and tossing water over himself in the candle light. Jet's scorn would soften and he would imagine himself there in the room instead of watching from the trees. After Zuko slipped into bed, Jet would fall asleep in the tree full of self-disgust.

Zuko, of course, had no idea any of this was happening. He sighed as he sunk down onto the only patch of illumination in the alley. He felt depression sink into his core again. Every time he found himself alone, the anger would disapear and despair would fill the void it left.

As Zuko moped around in the dark and Jet watched; a group of gangly, dirty people slipped in close. Zuko didn't notice them until one bolted in and held him with a chipped blade at his throat. He didn't struggle, as the knife stung his skin and was just ever so slightly nipping his jugular. Any movement would mean a quick end.

"Who are you," Zuko snarled at the group. Out stepped a man with a parrot-lizard on his shoulder, a familiar face.

"You remember me, don't you?" The pirate grunted, "And I remember you and your uncle causing us to lose our boat. Oh, and I also remember how much the Fire lord is willing to pay for you. Both as his son and as the Blue Spirit,"

Jet's eyes widened at this. Disoriented by the sudden information, he almost fell off the roof. He had heard of the Blue Spirit, almost every refugee had. Wanted posters were up all over the places. Along with the posters of two...firebending traitors.

Jet, as he shook his head and tried to comprehend the meaning of it all, almost missed it when the pirates tied Zuko's arms together and dragged him off.

Jet followed silently on the rooftop. He was the only one to see this proceeding and he was still indecisive about what he was going to do.

Zuko kept his noises of protest silent. He was not a whimpering coward and he would not scream. He was led onto a ship that looked precicely like the last one the pirates had. Jet leaped over and landed neatly between the crates on board. The ship set sail, pushing off and slowly drifting away. They weren't entirely far from land when Zuko began fighting.

With a neat kick and careful flip, Zuko managed to break free from the bulky man holding him. His surprise attack afforded him enough time to knock out several of the pirates with spinning kicks before they started attacking. Jet, as he saw the men closing in with knives and swords, couldn't hold still anymore. He burst out of cover hook swords blazing.

Zuko froze in surprise, but recovered long enough to duck a spear thrust at his head. He was doing admirably well with his hands tied behind his back. They were starting to go numb, nonetheless. As more of the men appeared from below deck, Jet knew they were outnumbered. He hooked a long piece of cork and pushed Zuko toward the edge.

"Jump!" Jet yelled and shoved Zuko overboard before diving off himself. As he hit the water, Jet opened his eyes and swam towards Zuko's sinking, struggling form. He couldn't swim with his hands behind his back. Jet grabbed him from behind around his neck and through an arm before swimming up to the cork. Using it as a float, Jet began towing Zuko back to the dock.

Dragging Zuko up underneath the rocky dock, Jet panted as he sliced the ropes holding Zuko's hands together. The firenation rubbed his wrists and looked up at Jet.

"Thank you," He murmured. This enraged Jet. He swung around and delivered a hard kick to the bottom of Zuko's jaw.

"Firenation scum," Jet snarled and kicked him in the ribs, "Li isn't your name, what is it?" Zuko remained silent. Jet tackled him into the sharp rocks, slipping a dagger from his shirt and holding it firmly against Zuko's creamy neck. Blood started trickling anew from the once scabbed scratch.

"Answer me," Jet hissed, pressing tighter, "What's your name?"

"Zuko," He managed to gasp out before closing his eyes. Jet pressed harder. He should do it, he should kill this pathetic excuse of life. This was THE incarnate of evil and Jet should just press deep and slide to the right. Wash his hands in the blood that killed his family.

He couldn't. Jet couldn't for the life of him figure it out. The afraid, innocent, human expression kept Jet from killing it. Steadily, Jet eased the dagger away and the menace left his eyes. Zuko looked up surprised as Jet climbed off of him. A hopeful expression shone for just a little bit. Jet smirked angrily and spun around, kicking Zuko in the side of the head. For the next two minutes, Jet unleashed all of his pent up anger and frustration, turning Zuko into a bleeding pulp of blood, bruises, and broken bones.

Jet stopped when Zuko stopped moving. He was unconcious. Sighing, Jet grabbed Zuko's arm and pulled him onto his back.

Zuko awoke several hours later in an unfamiliar apartment. He lay on a straw mattress, covered by a scratchy blanket and bandages. His left hand was splinted up with gauze and wooden slats. A large bandage covered his neck and his face. He tried to sit up, but a warm hand pushed him back down. Zuko looked up and into the tan face of the freedom fighter.

"What happened?" Zuko asked, for he vaguely remembered anything. Jet sucked on the sweet end of a piece of wheat and poured a clear liquid into a cup. He tipped the liquid into Zuko's mouth. At the burning taste, Zuko coughed for a while and slowly felt warmth rush from the depths of his stomach to the tips of his fingers. Jet looked vaguely troubled and slightly tender.

"I saved you from the pirates," Jet murmured.