Smellerbee and Long Shot stood in silence for a moment, staring down at their fallen leader. Tears ran down the young girl's cheeks, and the archer's eyes were filled with sadness as Jet looked up at them and smiled.
"Hey," he said, his voice low and quiet, "it's gonna be alright. I'll be fine - I promise."
In direct contradiction to his statement, a trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth and ran down his jaw and neck, staining his collar. Smellerbee let out a strangled sob, and the other boy knelt beside his leader, taking the limp hand in his own and staring into Jet's pale face.
"You're not fooling anyone." The normally taciturn boy's voice was low and brittle, laced with grief that he didn't bother to try and conceal. What was the point? It was only the three former Freedom Fighters present, and everyone knew he loved the older boy like a brother. A lump filled his throat as he watched the brown eyes start to glaze over, the wounded boy's voice getting weaker as he struggled to speak.
"You- you need to get out of here. Both of you. Before...before you're...discovered." He broke off, coughing, and Long Shot wiped away the fresh blood that gushed from his mouth. "Smellerbee-" the girl forced herself to swallow her sobs, hiccuping her way into silence, "y-you're in charge now. Look...look after Long Shot, and try to keep him out of trouble." A faint grin and another cough as the girl managed a tiny, watery laugh. "And both of you look after...everyone else. Those oppressed...those weaker than...than yourselves. Always give aid to those who...need it, if it is within your power to give." His voice trailed off, and when he spoke again, it was no louder than a whisper, and his comrades had to lean close to hear. "Try to find...others...like us. Start the Freedom Fighters again, but never...never lose sight of our objective." Another cough. More blood. "Don't make the mistake I did. Don't ever...lose...sight..."
Jet's words dwindled away as the light faded from his eyes, and the hand that Long Shot held in his own went slack. Smellerbee, completely disregarding the danger of their position, let loose a wail of pure misery and collapsed across the body of her fallen commander, sobbing into his tunic as she released her grief in one hysterical torrent. The archer laid a hand on her shoulder, his eyes still fixed on the other boy's face beneath the thick mop of hair. Gently, he reached out and closed the brown eyes for the last time, swallowing the lump in his throat as he struggled to keep his own tears at bay.
"There," he whispered, the words almost lost in the sobs of the other. "Now he could be sleeping."
And sleep he did, in the cold, dark caverns under Laogai Lake, never to waken, completely unaware of his grieving companions as they mourned the loss of their leader and friend.