Day 5: Change

Title: come marching home

Word Count:

Characters/Pairings: Longshot, Smellerbee, Jet; Smellershot

Timeline/Spoilers: mostly post-series; spoilers for up to 2.17: Lake Laogai

Summary: That volume of their lives had been forcibly slammed shut, with the end pages of a chapter called Ba Sing Se.

Notes: Disregards anything from The Promise comics.


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The same time each year, no matter where in the world they might be, two wandering Freedom Fighters made a pilgrimage back to the forest that would always be home to them. When the leaves were at their brightest red, Smellerbee and Longshot paid homage to their fallen leader and dear friend Jet and came to visit the shrine erected in his honour.

And this year was no different. The pair began their trek to the forest at the beginning of fall and arrived mid-season.

Though the two had eventually made peace with the events of Lake Laogai and could now visit their lost comrade with genuine smiles and inane tales, there was still a certain heaviness of the heart that would set in during each meeting. Memories from long ago would inevitably rear their ugly heads.

. x .

"There's no time. Just go. We'll take care of him. He's our leader."

Jet managed a small smile to reassure the others and mask his pain - a far cry from his usual charming smirk. "I'll be okay, Katara."

Reluctantly, the Avatar and his team left the trio from Gaipan Forest behind. But Smellerbee didn't miss what the small, blind one mentioned to Ponytail as she walked away.

"He's lying."

And that's when the tears began dripping down. She wiped the hair from Jet's forehead comfortingly. Longshot readied his bow and aimed for the door as a precaution.

"H- hey," the boy below her croaked. "Don't you waste your tears on me."

Smellerbee felt her throat cave in. She shook her head violently; words wouldn't come.

"Shhh, shhh," he soothed.

"You don't get to comfort me, Jet! You're dying!"

He chuckled in response. Her tears only trickled down faster. Longshot was visibly shaking. "Same old Smellerbee. Uptight as ever," he grinned.

. x .

The Freedom Fighters had long since disbanded. Contrary to popular belief, the events concerning the Avatar's visit did not result in immediate dissolution of the ragtag band. Instead, it planted small (but formidable) seeds of doubt within their very foundation.

A few more bumps down the road, and they were forced to let go of the facade of complacency and reached a difficult realization. The Fighters could not go on. Different from any ordeal they had encountered before, this was a battle that could not be won with clever words or sharp weapons poised to strike.

No, this battle, they would lose.

And while Jet had been their leader, he alone could not shoulder the blame. For the lot of them had followed him down that path to destruction willingly, had all felt the flames of hatred burn from within. Each and every one of those misguided children walked away with their own pieces of regret and sorrow and stumbled right past the point of no return.

It was time for a fresh start.

But, once a Freedom Fighter, always a Freedom Fighter. And that fact would prove be to both their downfall and saving grace all at once.

. x .

Jet called out to the archer, his voice somewhat hoarse, "Put down your weapon, will ya? The Dai Li won't be coming. They wouldn't waste their time on some stupid kid that's already dead."

"Don't say that!" the girl at his side snapped.

Unperturbed by her outburst, he continued on, expression unfaltering, "The least you could do is see your old pal off, eh?"

Longshot took a deep breath then, lowering his bow. He turned to face his comrades.

"That must have been the most I've ever heard you speak at once. I must be something special to warrant that."

Though he'd kept calm so far, a heart could only take so much. At those words, Longshot felt the corners of his eyes dampen. He knelt down and took Bee's other hand, gripping tightly. She returned the squeeze, just as fiercely.

With his best friends before him, reduced to such a state, Jet finally let the act fall. "L- listen, you guys," he wheezed. "I'm sorry I put you through this. I guess I just couldn't...couldn't let go. Some leader I turned out to be."

"No, Jet! You were the best we could have ever had!" Smellerbee cried. The other boy nodded ferverently.

The weakening adolescent tried his best to smirk. "Nah, I know I made mistakes. If you see the others...tell 'em I'm sorry, too. You two...take care of each other." Silently, he added, 'Better than I did.'

A sniffle. "We will. We...we'll miss you, Jet. No matter what anyone says...you'll always be a hero. To all of us."

And for the first time in a long time, genuine happiness spread across the face of their fallen leader. In his diminishing gaze was a love and gratefulness that overshadowed any fear.

"You know...the say that...to die...would be an awfully...big adventure..."

And the smile on his face never faded, even as Smellerbee reached out to close his lifeless eyes.

. x .

Months later, Smellerbee and Longshot were still reeling from the loss of one of their own. His death was a heavy burden to bare. No amount of speed drills or training could have ever prepared them for this. For, though three upper-crust members' official departure from the tree house had taken place some time ago, the Freedom Fighters had never really dissolved. They were never truly alone. But those halcyon days were far behind them now. That volume of their lives had been forcibly slammed shut, with the end pages of a chapter called Ba Sing Se.

Their leader, their comrade, their friend. He was gone from them, never to return. The tragedy lay in the fact that he had truly yearned to change. But hatred is a hard thing to lsimply et go off. Jet was a lesson that they all needed to learn. Ah, fate was a cruel mistress indeed.

And just when they thought they could finally begin to cope, to see the sun again, a knock at the door had the world come crashing down once more.

. x .

"No," she cried, voice cracking. "No!" She was about to lunge at the man's retreating figure, when-

A pair of warm, trembling hand restrained her. She turned to face the owner, her eyes wild. Almost imperceptably, Longshot shook his head. Not now. Not here, his eyes conveyed a silent message.

Quicker than they ever thought possible, they sprinted towards the outskirts of town, back to the woods – the only place that could provide even a smidgen of comfort. And privacy.

Immediately upon arrival, the smaller of the two collapsed into the other one's awaiting arms. Silent tears streamed down both their faces as they clung to one another in their grief. The wound had been reopened and the ultimate irony stung in ways that physical injuries never could. The slashes on her cheeks and the burns on his bandaged arms were nothing compared to this.

The scroll they had received lay forgotten in the dirt. Bequeathed in it was a polite summons from the Fire Nation Royal Palace with the promise of compensation and an explanation. But there was no need for the latter. The message had been addressed to 'Jet, Smellerbee, and Longshot' and accompanied by a small portrait.

The signature at the bottom may have read 'Fire Lord Zuko,' but the picture was all Lee.

. x .

Years later, a pair of gloved hands came to rest upon another's as they stretched across her midriff. It was still flat but with new life growing within.

"It's going to be an autumn baby." They shared a smile then.

. x .

Scarlet leaves cascaded down in a vortex of colour. It was truly a spectacle to behold.

"Jet would have loved the view here. Don't you think, Longshot?"

Head and hat bowed forward, he spoke quietly, "Yes. He would."

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Leaves from the vine

falling so slow

Like fragile tiny shells

drifting in the foam

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Little soldier boy

come marching home

Brave soldier boy

comes marching home

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owaranai


A/N: I hope you're having a good Smellershot Week! Please review! :)