Jet was finding it hard to concentrate. Try as he might, he just couldn't focus on what he was doing.
Normally, Jet was the most attentive of them all, not getting distracted by little bugs or the wind rustling through the leaves like some of his younger Freedom Fighters. But now, he couldn't stop thinking about the Avatar, Katara and what Sokka said. They had almost bluntly told him he was wrong. Wrong. After all he'd done to avenge his parents. Wrong.
Jet shrugged off those thoughts, narrowing his eyes at the branch below the one he was sitting on. He was supposed to be watching for Fire Nation, but, for once, Jet decided his Freedom Fighters could handle it. Getting distracted once wouldn't kill him, would it?
After a moment of staring blankly at the branch, keeping his mind clear by pure force of will, it struck Jet that he had no idea how to get distracted. Leaders, he noted with a twinge of pride, didn't have time to get distracted. They had to remain alert, in order to lead and serve. And plan plus a thousand other little things. The Avatar got distracted too easily. Sure, he was going to save the world, but he didn't understand war and he certainly didn't understand the costs of war. Not like Jet did.
War was about survival. About hurting those who hurt you. About two sides trying to destroy each other. About sacrifices.
Three sharp whistles interrupted him. Looking up, Jet smiled. Three whistles meant three approaching. Three Fire Nation approaching. Without giving a reply, Jet pulled out his swords, eyes scanning the ground for... There. Jet let a predatory smile creep upon his face. So, Sokka thought he was wrong? He'd show him. Sokka didn't understand war. None of them did. He knew he was right.
Forcing himself to wait a few moments, Jet dropped from his tree without warning. He was rewarded by a woman's shriek of surprise. Still smiling, he straightened, dark eyes narrowed at his prey. It was a man in Fire Nation red and a young woman. The woman's hand was wrapped protectively around a small child's, who blinked up at Jet in confusion. The old man pushed the woman behind him, trying to back away from Jet. But Jet knew it was of no use. Behind them, with a thud, dropped Pipsqueak. The woman gasped in fear again, grabbing onto the man's wrist. Jet's smile only grew. This was too easy.
"Your in my forest." Jet said, seeing Smellerbee drop from her tree to his left, staying near the large roots. He knew Longshot was somewhere in the trees, just in case one of them tried something. The man, clearly in charge, lifted his chin and turned his filthy amber eyes right on Jet, trying and failing to look unafraid. Jet whipped up his sword, using it to point at him. The man flinched. "And if you want to leave here with all your limps intact, you'll give us everything you have."
The man glanced fearfully down at the woman, then back up at Jet. "Please, sir." The man said, voice shaking slightly. Jet's smile slowly shrank. Was this man begging? Pitiful. "We have nothing. We are just trying to go to the next town over for a fresh start."
"You have nothing?" Jet snapped, angry that the man had tried to lie to him. He took a step forwards, and the two drew back. The child was nowhere in sight, but Jet didn't care. Let the coward hide. "The Fire Nation has everything! Every year the Fire Lord expands his territory, and you tell me you have nothing?!"
The supposedly poor man jumped, wrapping his arm protectively around what Jet assumed to be his wife. "Please, sir," The man said again, visibly shaking. "We are just passing through, and--"
"You expect me to just let you pass through my forest just so you can go destroy another town and ruin more lives?!" Jet took another step forwards. A small head fearfully poked out from behind the woman's skirt. "Your not going to destroy another family. Not on my watch!"
The man seemed to visibly deflate. Jet felt a small twinge of pride, narrowing his eyes at him. "Please." The man said, taking a step forwards and releasing his wife. He raised his disgustingly pale hands in a gesture of surrender. "Do what you will with me. But leave my family alone. Please, sir."
"Does the Fire Nation leave people alone?!" Jet nearly roared. The head disappeared behind the skirt again. "Does the Fire Nation show mercy of any kind?! No!" Jet took another step forwards, his sword still pointed at the Fire Nation man, his eyes void of any promise of mercy.
"Please, just leave my family alone!" The man said, not moving, while tears poured down his wife's face. Jet gave a small smile at that. Finally, they were feeling the fear his family went through. What all their families went through. "My son needs his mother! Just leave them alone!"
"He needs her?" Jet snarled, glaring at the woman, who took a half step back, in danger of bumping into Pipsqueak. Why the boy was just standing there, Jet didn't know. It didn't matter. He'd rip them apart himself. "We needed our mothers too, Fire Nation scum!" With that, he raised his sword and swung down, anger turning into power rushing through his veins. This man was going to pay and Jet was going to make him.
Something strong ripped his sword out of his hand before it touched the man. Jet took a step back, his hand smarting for an unknown reason. "What the--" Escaped his lips, before he saw what happened. An arrow, perfectly aimed, was pinning his sword to the ground. An arrow. An arrow.
Jet snarled in anger, turning around quickly, raising his other sword---
Only to have it meet the same fate. Jet, now weaponless, massaged his right knuckle. It had been grazed by the arrow. A tall boy dropped from the tree infront of him, landing exactly how Jet had taught him. Lonshot looked up at Jet from under the brim of his hat, his face as readable as always. It simply said, 'Stop.'
Jet narrowed his eyes at the archer. "They're Fire Nation, Longshot!" He yelled, struck by an errie sense of deja vu. "Don't you dare pull a Sokka on me, Longshot! Remember why you fight!" He didn't understand. Longshot was his first Freedom Fighter. His most loyal Freedom Fighter. Sure, he'd reacted in an... odd way after he blew up the dam, but he still followed Jet's commands without question. What was wrong with the archer?
As usual, Longshot said nothing. Jet took a step towards him, but unlike the Fire Nation man, Longshot didn't draw away from Jet's anger. Silence engulfed the forest, silence that only fueled Jet's rage. "Or did you forget that they burned down your whole village? Killing everything and everyone you ever loved? Did you forget that, Longshot?!" Jet snarled. Startled, Longshot too a step back. Jet took another step forwards, determinded to make Longshot see that he was right.
"Jet? Back off." A small voice from behind him said timidly. Jet ignored whoever it was. He'd deal with them later. He was the leader. Nobody questioned him. Nobody. And that included shooting his swords out of his hands. Longshot shook his head silently, clearly telling whoever it was to back off. Jet was appreaciative that Longshot still understood him slightly.
"Well, Longshot?" Jet said, taking another step forwards. From somewhere else behind him, the small Fire Nation child had started to cry loudly, breaking the silence. "Don't you remeber? That is why you fight! Your a Freedom Fighter!" Longshot seemed to deflate slightly, but still stood defiantly in place, his cool eyes watching an angry Jet advance on him. Jet jabbed his finger in Longshot's chest, causing the archer to draw back slightly. "Your a Freedom Fighter, and that means you don't give me orders! I give them to you! And these people are Fire Nation, and they deserve to pay! I'll rip them apart limb from limb, just like they ripped our families apart! I'm right, they're wrong! C'mon, Longshot," Jet said, grabbing one of the boy's shoulders roughly. "Are you with me?"
The boy looked away from Jet, over towards whatever possesed him to defy him. Jet kept his eyes trained on Longshot's face, determided to either get Longshot to nod or to bore holes in his face with his glare. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Longshot looked back down at Jet. The boy swallowed and Jet released him, appalled. "Stop." Longshot said softly, his voice foreign sounding and weak. Jet blinked, staring at Longshot as if he'd never seen him before. Then, he snapped.
Jet's body reacted before his mind did. His hands clenched into fists and his right hand swung. His fist connected with Longshot's cheekbone, sending the thin archer reeling back into the dirt. There was no sound except the child's cry as Longshot slowly sat up, propped up by his elbows. The archer looked up at his leader with wide eyes, blood pouring from his nose. Jet took a half step back, his right hand still clenched into a fist. Spirits...
Something small and strong shoved him from behind. Jet stumbled forwards slightly, turning around to see Smellerbee. There were tears in her eyes and her fists were clenched as well. "What in the name of the spirits is wrong with you, Jet?" She yelled, looking angrier than the time the Duke stole her dagger.
"He was way outta line!" Jet yelled, clenching his hands into fists so that they wouldn't see them shake. A leader couldn't show regret. He couldn't be weak, even if inside he wanted to know if he broke Longshot's nose, or if Longshot would ever forgive him. "I'm the leader!" He glared down at her, but, like Longshot, she didn't back down. "And why is everyone so mad at me for? They're the firebenders!" He yelled, jabbing a threatening finger at them.
"You didn't need to punch him!" Smellerbee yelled, shoving Jet again. Jet, being the gentleman he was, shoved her back. She stumbled backwards, and tripped over a root, landing squarely on her rump. Inside, Jet panicked. Had he just hurt another one of his Freedom Fighters? Outside, Jet jabbed a finger at her, while she glared up at him.
"I'm the leader, what I say goes. And I'm not the bad guy here. They are!" He yelled, looking up. The three were no where in sight, and neither was Pipsqueak. "Don't think you can get off so easy!!" He yelled, not quite sure who he was yelling at. But one thing was sure. He was mad, and needed to get out of there, before he injured any more Freedom Fighters. He reached down, and grabbed one of his swords. With that, he started forwards, his hand smarting from where he hit Longshot. He just had to get away, whack at a couple trees to let his anger out, then he'd apologize. That would be the right--
Something hard hit the back of his head. Jet blinked, his swords clattering to the ground. Then, after a second, he dropped to his knees, falling forwards.
Maybe leaders didn't always have to be strong.
Wow, this was long. I am planning to do at least one other part to this, perhaps something from Longshot's or Smellerbee's point of view. Definitly something about why Longshot and Smellerbee would decide to join him. The ending, where he tries to do the right thing again only to be cut short on the attempt, was inspired by his death.
Reviews are love.