This chapter was originally published December 11, 2011 as "Second Chances"
Character: Jet
Song: "What Have I Done? (Valjean's Soliloquy)" from Les Misérables
Did a voice whisper in his ear that he had just passed through the decisive hour of his destiny, that there was no longer a middle course for him, that if, thereafter, he were not the best of men, he would be the worst, that he must not, so to speak, climb higher than the bishop or fall lower than the convict; that, if he wanted to become good, he must become an angel; that, if he wanted to remain evil, he must become a monster? ~ Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
Jet didn't have an all-at-once turnaround or sudden epiphany. The change was gradual, but still visible – like a fault line forming in the earth.
Initially, all he felt was anger and frustration. But under the anger, he felt … hurt, somehow. Wounded.
He knew he had just lost three valuable friends and allies. So there was some cause for regret.
But the question that kept nagging him was: What had he done wrong?
He had been surprised when he saw Katara cry. He wanted to comfort her; but the ironic thing was, he was the one who had hurt her.
He had never cared about a girl the way he cared about Katara. (Once or twice he had wondered about Smellerbee, but she was never more than a sister to him.)
"You're a monster, and I trusted you!" That had stung. So had the ice that she had encased him in.
Did she hate him now?
"Girls don't like being tricked," Smellerbee told him. Jet didn't need to ask who she was talking about; she could tell what was on his mind.
He hadn't liked lying to Katara. He just thought it would be easier that way. Sometimes it was better not to know. She was still a little naïve about war. Sometimes you had to fight fire with fire. That was just the way things were.
Guilt. Jet cursed the word for that emotion. But it crept into the back of his head, growing and twisting inside him. It made him clench his fists and shake his head forcefully and roll over in bed. When he tried to push it away, it became more persistent, almost haunting him.
"You became the traitor when you stopped protecting innocent people."
Sometimes he felt inexplicable anger toward Katara. She had done this to him, caused him to question everything he did, doubt everything he believed in. Why did she have to show up and ruin everything?
He hated her.
No, he didn't.
What had he done wrong? What had he done to make her hate him?
The answer was so obvious he almost missed it. They were mad at him for trying to flood the town, and for beating the old Fire Nation man, and for deliberately lying to them.
He felt it was all justified. War changed the rules. They fought to survive, and to carry on the memory of those they had lost.
What else could they do? What other choice was there?
There's always another choice, that annoying thing called conscience reminded him.
For a long time, the Freedom Fighters' only goal had been to free the village in Gaipan. But Sokka had scratched that off the list. So now what could they do?
They had to evacuate the forest, now that the villagers and the Fire Nation soldiers knew where their hideout was.
"Maybe it's for the best," Smellerbee said as they left the treehouse behind. "Maybe we'll find a new life now."
The Duke and Pipsqueak – the youngest and oldest – decided to stick together. Sneers, the quiet loner, wanted to find his uncle who lived in a Fire Nation colony called Yu Dao. For a moment Jet stood indecisively, wondering what path his life was about to take. Would he go on alone?
"Jet? Longshot and I are gonna go to Ba Sing Se. Do you want to come with us?"
Jet was silent for a moment, considering. Then he smiled at her. "Yeah. I will. Thanks guys."
The good-byes were awkward and sorrowful. How did you say good-bye to the only friends and family you'd had for years?
No one made a motivational speech or gave reassuring consolation. They were just a bunch of lost kids trying to pick up the pieces of their lives.
Smellerbee spoke up quietly. "My mom used to say, it's never too late to start over."
That day, Jet finally came to a decision.
He had been wrong to hurt innocent people. Sokka and Katara and Aang had been right about that. From now on, there would be no fighting, unless absolutely necessary.
It would be hard to let go of the part of him that was a Freedom Fighter; for years he had made it the only part of himself that existed. But there were other ways that you could fight for freedom. Maybe he would find some in Ba Sing Se.
Jet, Smellerbee, and Longshot paused for a moment and turned to look at their forest home one last time. The wooden rope bridges swayed in the wind. The place had a deserted look to it, where there used to be warriors and refugees and kids, swinging and fighting and surviving and living. It had been their home – for many it was their first real home.
It had been a part of their lives, and they couldn't deny or forget it. But now it was time to put it to rest and move on.
Jet turned and walked with his friends out of the forest. That part of his life was over. Now, he supposed, a new chapter had to begin.