Chapter One: Jet
Smellerbee slid to her knees next to Jet, tears streaming down her face. She tried to muffle her sobs with limited results. Longshot kept watch above her, looking for any possible threats. Luckily, the place was deserted.
The girl brushed Jet's hair out of his eyes. "You're going to be fine, Jet," she whispered, reassuring herself as much as him. "Just fine. We'll go back to the camp. And obliterate any Fire Nation soldier that gets in our way!"
The teenager on the floor laughed weakly. Smellerbee almost smiled, except for the trickle of blood that ran over his cracked lip. "Bee, you were never one to kid yourself. I'm badly hurt – I want you to take the swords when you leave. You need to accept that if I–"
She put a thumb over his lips. "Jet, don't talk. You'll just make it worse. You'll be fine. Absolutely fine. Perfectly fine. Wonderful in fact." She repeated this to him, crooning it as a mother might a lullaby, sure that only by stating it would it come to pass. Finally, she fell silent, counting his heartbeats and feeling the dull rush of blood accompanying his pulse.
Every one of Jet's heartbeats boomed loud and clear to the other two Freedom Fighters. "Tha–thump. Tha–thump. Tha–thump. Tha–thump. Tha–thump. Tha–thump." It was all Smellerbee could do not to stand up and run, run as hard and fast as she could, never looking back. She knew that Jet and Longshot needed her there, not blindly scrambling through an enemy hideout.
"Tha–thump. Tha–thump. Tha–thump." The steady rhythm, though faint, gave the girl hope about Jet's condition. Maybe he would live. They would go back to the Freedom Fighters and give Jet some time to recover. He could teach her how to use the swords someday, like he'd always said he would. "Tha–thump. Tha–thump. Tha–thump. Tha–"
Smellerbee waited for the next beat to come. It never did. Her eyes lost their focus and she felt her head tilt sideways as her mind refused to accept this information.
Her mind traveled over her life with him. When he found me alone in the forest. Teaching me how to hunt and cook for myself. Teaching me how to navigate by the stars and create mental maps of the area. It seemed to her that she had always been learning from him. I've never taught him anything useful, or contributed to his life in any special way. I'm just a student, always a little slower, a little weaker, a little less of a warrior than Jet is.
Was, she thought as she realized once and for all, that Jet was truly dead.
Suddenly she couldn't cry anymore. Her eyes were red and weak, and she realized how long she'd been sitting there. Longshot was beside her, gripping her shoulder a little bit tighter than was strictly comfortable.
Striking a sideways glance, she saw her friend's face streaked with tears, his lip bloodied from biting it. She put an arm around him and his eyes met hers.
Longshot pulled her into a hug which she returned fiercely. She wiped her eyes and gave her friend a quick once–over. He seemed unhurt physically, though she was sure that the emotional wounds would be long in healing.
She stood up and tugged his arms. He tilted his head up and nodded once. They both understood what had to be done.
Carefully, they draped Jet across their shoulders and pulled him through the many tunnels of the Dai Li's headquarters under Lake Laogai.
