This story is all sorts of messed up. It's depressing and crazy and nothing at all like the cartoon show. I wrote it while avoiding a paper. I was suddenly inspired when a website wouldn't load, saying that the server was too busy. How that has anything to do with this, I'll never know... This will probably remain a one shot, but that might change. It's not likely, though.
Avatar belongs to Mike and Bryan. (I'm awfully sorry I screwed up your lovely characters so much.)

"I remember you," he cries. "Scarface."

Zuko looks up from behind the counter. From behind his sanctuary; a place where he serves tea to happy customers. A place he hates.

Although offended by the young man's remark, he prepares himself.

"What'll it be sir?"

The young man scratches his unshaven chin and attempts to comb his hand through his unkempt hair. He fails.

"You don't recognize me?"

Zuko stares. He sees a dirty guy in outdated clothes. Probably another hobo that can't pay, but orders anyway, in hopes that Zuko will somehow find it in his heart to spare the homeless schmuck a chai tea latté.

"Next," Zuko yells, although there's nobody else in line.

The homeless man looks around the shop. He appears confused.

"Come on Lee, I'm the only one here."

For a second, Zuko's heart stops. He is worried. How does anyone know that name? He hasn't used it in years.

"That's not my name." He motions at his name tag.

The young man reaches into his pocket.

"Then 'Zuko' is a fake name. Or 'Lee' is. Maybe they both are," he sighs.

Zuko shuts his eyelids together. His hands are shaking. The air conditioner is on too high. And it's September. It shouldn't be on at all.

The stranger takes his hand out of his pocket and places something in his mouth.

"Now do you recognize me?" He mumbles with incredible accuracy.

Zuko stares in disbelief.

"Christ, you're that pot-head Jet."

Jet pushes his joint around with his tongue.

"You know I never smoke the damn thing. It's just for show."

Who the hell carries around marijuana just for show?

There's a small part of Zuko that wants to punch the bastard in front of him square in the jaw. But there's a large part of him that looks at this guy and is wowed at how pathetic his appears.

"What are you doing here?" What do you want?

Jet grins and his cigarette stays in place between a gap in his teeth.

"In America? Ohh, a little of this, a little of that… I see you're still working in a tea shop."

Obviously. Any asshole with eyes could see that.

"I'm the manager here."

Jet nods and finally puts his drug of choice back into his pocket. It lives there, with the loose change and the black lighter.

Zuko watches all of this with caution. The last time he saw this punk, they were both sixteen. Zuko barely remembers anything from his teenage years. Not that he'd want to.

But he remembers Jet and he remembers that when he last saw him, Jet tried to kill him.

There is a coat rack by the front door. Jet walks back towards it and hangs up his jacket. It brings years off of him.

"What about your uncle?"

Zuko backs away from the cash register and leans against the back wall, blocking the menu.

"He's dead."

Jet stops and frowns gently. "Sorry to hear that."

He exhales, not realizing that he'd been holding his breath since Jet had called him Lee. Since Jet had brought up his uncle. Nobody brought up his uncle. Lots of customers remembered him fondly, but they never talked about him. At least not in front of Zuko.

"Are you gonna order anything. Or are you just here to bring up painful memories."

Zuko is never one to lie. Not where he is in life now.

Jet ignores this and instead, pulls a chair out from a table and slides it towards the counter. It makes a painfully high pitched noise and leaves scuff marks. Zuko is horrified, but Jet ignores this and sits down.

"So tell me how you've been since I last-"

"Since you tried to kill me?"

They both frown.

"I was hoping you'd forget about that."

Zuko slams his fists on the counter. "How could I? You called my uncle and me terrorists and pulled out a knife! Who the fuck does that?"

Jet laughs, uneasily.

"I wasn't right in the head. But you remember how we came over together, on that boat? We were both immigrants in a foreign country. How we stole that food together? How we became friends?"

Zuko pulls back in disbelief.

"What are you talking about? How- how did you even find me?"

Jet smoothes the wrinkles out of his sweater.

"Coincidence. I just came in here to beg for a free drink. I had no idea I'd find my old fuck buddy Lee behind the counter."

As if this situation, this day wasn't weird enough. It was déjà vu and it was not at all pleasant. Zuko pulls at his own face and tells himself that he is dreaming.

"I'm all better now. After the Dai Li got to me and fucked with my head, I forgot all about you. But I remembered. And I remembered, realized that you weren't the bad guy. They were. But. But the A.V.A.T.R. took care of them years ago."

"Get out."

"What?"

"Get out of my shop."

Jet stands up, knocking the chair over.

"Look, I just want to apologize. I did a lotta bad things when I was young. I hurt you. I didn't mean to. I want to make it up to you."

If he really wanted to apologize, he wouldn't mention my uncle or the Dai Li or A.V.A.T.R. He wouldn't talk, he wouldn't even exist.

"Why are you tormenting me? Are you trying to drive me insane? Are you trying to send me over the edge? Were you sent by the Devil?" Zuko stares at the floor.

Jet picks up his chair, but remains standing. He reaches a hand towards Zuko, but doesn't dare touch him.

"Lee. Zuko. The truth is that I noticed you working here months ago. I didn't have the courage to come in. The truth is that, I couldn't stop thinking about you. Not since… you know. That may be pathetic but its reality."

"What's your point."

"It's good to see you," Jet says, as he backs away, towards the door. "And maybe I'll see you again soon."

And with that, Zuko is left alone. He's always alone.

Zuko wonders if his uncle will ever forgive him. He wonders if his sister and his father are rotting in Hell. (He hopes that they are.) He wonders if that little kid he used to chase is still in hiding, or if he really is dead. If his (ex)girlfriend is still seeing that circus freak. If his mother still loves him.

He wonders about these things and many more. He just wants to forget, but Jet isn't helping.

A part of him is relieved by that. A part of him is satisfied to know that he poisoned Jet, just like Jet had poisoned him.

But a big part of him is convinced that he has finally gone off the deep end.