Hit N Run

Summary – Zuko, the troubled firstborn of a ruthless gangster. Aang, the mischievous young vigilante. They meet on a rainy night, and their story opens the clouds.

Warning – This story includes violence, gang crime, rape, and homosexual relations.

Disclaimer – Nothing of ATLA belongs to me.

HARDER . BETTER . FASTER . STRONGER

The first thing he hears out of anyone's mouth when it comes to the Avatar is: "That kid is fast, and damn is he strong."

Having trained in kong fu, double broadswords, and most importantly, Northern Shaolin, nearly all his life, Zuko shouldn't be intimidated. Fact is, he is. Especially because a strange part of him still leaps at the thought of the Avatar, when it should bear its fangs to take down its enemy instead. He is shocked, and a little disturbed, that he is this close to thinking of the mysterious figure as friend, not foe. Zuko can't afford weakness now, not of any kind, so he trains.

It begins only in his free time. But after only a week and a half, he begins to cut time off studying or working in the tea shop and go to the gym or meditate instead. Some professors notice, but having never had the chance to get close to Zuko, they hardly have time to care. Jin notices and becomes highly suspicious, he can hear her whispering to Iroh when she thinks he isn't listening. Before long it almost gets as awkward as that time she decided she liked him and looked at him expectantly every time they bumped heads. But Zuko manages to avoid her, and the rest of them. He finds peace in his solitude. His meditation.

Zuko has always found comfort in the heat of the fireplace, the burn of incense. He knew from a young age he had a high heat tolerance. Steaming showers. Sweaty t-shirts. Hot breath. Burning muscles. It's all torture that he enjoys. It's even the easier part of his training.

The downside, Zuko realizes, is that he has no experience stalking people. And knowing the Avatar's evasive nature, that could prove quite the problem.

Zuko loves his uncle to death, but honestly he hates him sometimes.

"I see you were looking up local high schools," he mentions casually, though his eyes clearly show he does not mean it casually.

"Yeah, so?"

"So, you're a second semester college freshman. Are you really considering going back to high school?" Iroh talks as if he means to tease. And worse yet, he always keeps talking even if Zuko refuses to answer, meaning the only thing that could stop him would be Zuko saying something worthwhile back. "You are doing well in your studies. Don't start going backwards."

"I'm not looking at high schools to go to them—" Zuko begins furiously, but then cuts himself off. He didn't mean to admit that.

"Oh?" Iroh asks, allowing the unanswered questions to feather away. He considers his nephew silently for a moment, and then continues on a different track. "So much training you have done lately, one would think you are thinking of going around, picking fights."

"I don't pick fights," Zuko says automatically, knowing what a lie that is when it comes to Azula.

"Good," Iroh says, thoroughly unconvinced. "I was worried you might go looking for trouble.

"Nope."

"You aren't looking for anything?" Iroh continues, the knowingness now deep in his voice, his eyes, his frowning mouth. Zuko's heart sinks when he realizes his uncle knows everything, has always seemed to know more about Zuko than anybody else. "My dear nephew, if you ever do want to go looking for something, you need look no further than within yourself. There, you will find your answer." With that said, he finally leaves Zuko alone.

The worst part about Uncle Iroh is that he never stops Zuko from doing the wrong thing, confident that he can stop himself, even though Zuko knows he can't.

"Hey hot stuff," Jet's voice drifts to the small, concrete backyard of the tea shop, causing Zuko's hair to stand on end, "I saw you working your swords there...and I was wondering if you were ready for some real practice."

With a sharp trill of metal, he brandishes his twin hooks with pride. Zuko wonders where the fuck did he get those if he was just recently released from juvie. But no matter, he decides, because if Jet is really giving him a chance to wipe that stupid grin off his face, then so be it. "I'm ready."

They fight in circles, they climb buildings, they just barely miss, they just barely save themselves, they block and strike, but neither seems to really make it in this fight because they both understand the advantages of having two swords rather than one, so like the duality of the swords, it's an even match. A stale mate waiting to happen.

When Jin finally demands they stop trying to kill each other and get back inside, that's when they pause and realize just how exhausted they are. Chests heaving and a layer of sweat covering their skin, they allow their blood to boil down a little before agreeing to come inside. Jin blushes a little when Jet grins at her.

"That was a good match," Jet says, and for once, Zuko has to agree with him.

"Oh, you know," Jin laughs, heart still fluttering in excitement, "our Zuko always was one tough cookie to beat."

They all freeze simultaneously. Jin, out of horror that she just unleashed Zuko's real name, and so soon, damn it, so soon. Zuko, out of apprehension that maybe, just maybe, Jet doesn't know all that much about Ozai and his criminal empire after all.

But Jet is staring at the two in shock, and then angry realization. Barely three days, and already their cover is blown. He retreats slowly, not daring turn his back on them and not saying good-bye. They watch him leave silently. Zuko tries not to blame Jin, she doesn't even know the reason for their need for disguise. She merely received heavy hinting from Uncle Iroh that Jet may 'confuse' their names with a bad bunch that the boy knows. But it's out in the open now, and they don't know what to expect.

Dinner at the homeless shelter is always loud, cheerful, and borderline chaotic. Aang and Sokka help the kids sit down on their mis-matched chairs in the kitchen, setting food down on the round lazy susan (the best invention since cooked meat, Sokka claims) and breaking up fights. Katara stays late out front waiting on the soup kitchen line. Sometimes their dad comes and helps, if he's not too busy. Sometimes their Gran Gran tries to help too, but Katara shoos her away. When the three of them can finally sit together and wipe the very last morsels from their plates, it's usually a happy occasion.

Until Jet starts trying to break down the door.

"Aang! Are you there? I just found this out, shit it's important, you gotta let me in! Hey Sokka you bozo, open this door before I chew your ponytail off, you…" he trails off pathetically into broken off mumbles when he sees Katara at the doorway, her disapproval ever the greeting. "…you gorgeous piece of art!" Jet exclaims immediately, face falling seemingly into his trademark smile and wink. "Hey there, lovely, long time no see."

"What are you doing here?" Katara demands, cursing herself for almost falling for his charm, again. "I thought they locked you up in juvenile hall."

"They did. But I'm back for you," Jet smiles. Katara merely snorts in disbelief. From over her shoulder, Aang peers at Jet with a guarded curiosity. "I just got out, first thing I did was come to you."

"Jet," Aang says suddenly, "you were released a few days ago. I know this for a fact. Where've you been this whole time?"

Jet blinks, oh shit written all over his face, while Katara simply glares, now waiting for a proper explanation. "Oh, did I say that? I meant to say, first thing I did was to get a job, so I could make an honest man's living, of course."

"So you have a job now?" Katara asks. Jet doesn't miss the sarcastically accusing tone in her voice. "Great, where is it?"

"…Actually," Jet says uneasily, "I just quit." Katara almost slams the door in his face, and it would've squished the hand leaning on the door frame as well, but Jet stops her. "Hear me out, please. I had a reason for quitting. The place is called the Jasmine Dragon, a tea shop at the edge of the inner city. The owner and nephew are related to Ozai. This is dangerous stuff, real too. I swear, hear me out."

Katara, still torn between kicking Jet out of her life for good and offering him a second chance, glances at Aang. "Your call," she says softly, and Jet suddenly feels a burn of jealousy at the mutual understanding between the two. "Do we let him in and believe him this time? You remember what he did."

All this time, Aang has simply looked at Jet with his large eyes. Clear, grey, and overwhelmingly intimidating, those eyes make Jet feel as if his heart is being weighed against a feather. But he is relieved when Aang doesn't hesitate in saying, "C'mon Katara, let him in. Anything related to Ozai is important."

Katara finally steps out of the way, and Jet strides in smilingly. "Glad there aren't any problems, then."

"Oh, there still are," Sokka rolls his eyes, not having left the table in favor of gobbling down his meal. He glances at Katara, who still looks rather huffy, and grins amusedly. "Heh, so glad I don't have any ex issues."

Nobody bothers telling him that's because his only girlfriend died of cancer before he could really do anything about it. They aren't that insensitive, after all.

Zuko is Ozai's son. Everybody knows that, even if nobody talks about it. His screams for attention from Ozai have reached far more ears than he could have intended. Azula's name is kept much further in the shadows, partially because she is naturally more discreet about her activities, and partially because nobody dares share her name for fear of her seventeen-year-old wrath. Nearly nothing is known of Mushi, whose real name Jet still does not know, but if Zuko calls him Uncle, then he must be Ozai's brother.

"Or maybe Mushi's from his mother's side," Jet says thoughtfully. "The old man is way too nice to be directly related to that scumbag Ozai. Zuko, on the other hand, I think is deranged."

"Oh, sounds like somebody we know," Sokka pipes up before Katara has the chance to elbow him in the gut.

"You think this is a laughing matter?" Jet demands. "We all know Ozai is real, he's not some myth people tell baby drug dealers 'and you better behave, or the boss will get you!' We know that every man in this world has family. And that's his family. They must be up to something really dangerous. Whatever it is, we need to stop them."

"We're not stopping anything," Katara argues vehemently, "especially you. I don't want any more innocent lives hurt or gone. Who knows what you might do while you think you're saving someone? Sometimes, when you have your heart set on the greater good, you just become this...monster, and you don't even realize it!"

Though slightly hurt from Katara's bitting remarks, Jet doesn't have a chance to defend himself. "And just how many Zuko's do you think there are in this city?" Sokka comments. "Anyway, you haven't found evidence of them doing anything illegal. They're just running a tea shop, for flippin' sake! The worst this Zuko guy has probably done is give someone the wrong order of tea."

"Wait," Aang says suddenly, "what does Zuko look like?"

Silence. Everyone stares at him. Jet raises his eyebrows. "Pale, black hair, a scar on his left eye. Shorter than me. Why? Have you seen him?"

"…I've saved him," Aang says quietly. "Twice."

Everyone stares at him in disbelief, and then Jet explodes. "You what? You saved that piece of shit when he's obviously dangerous, like his dad, and downright evil—"

"The first time he was in trouble, okay?" Aang snaps, surprising even Katara with the venom in his voice. "He was helpless, what was I supposed to do?"

"And what about the second time?" Katara asks, an edge in her voice as her eyes settle on his bandaged arm. She stares at it suspiciously, especially recalling how Aang wouldn't say from whom he got hurt. "Aang, how did you get that cut?"

"It was from Zuko, wasn't it?" Jet demands when Aang doesn't say anything. "Shit, I can't believe it! Does he really deserve saving, after that? How could you defend someone like him?"

Aang is silent, not because he doesn't want to answer, but because he doesn't know how. The scarred boy is set on walking on a dark road, and he desires nobody's help. But there is something soft and lonely in Zuko that he has found, and feels obligated to protect. Aang is a firm believer in the difference between guilty, and conflicted. Zuko, he thinks to himself, must be the latter.

As Aang stares at the ashes of the fireplace, highlighted eerily from the moonlight seeping through the window, he can only hope he's right.

A/N – I counted about five minor pairings mentioned, so it's gossip time.

Jet and Zuko are perfectly compatible only in the physical sense, and any step toward a deeper mental connection might send them both off the deep end. The Jin/Jet is random, cute, and fleeting. Jet/Katara always cracks me up, and I think they should stay exes; they just work better that way. I'm a firm believer in a solid Kataang friendship, nothing more. And Yue is a much stronger character in death, so Sokka can keep jacking off to her memory in the shower; it makes it romantically tragic.