ways_infirmary | (no subject)

"He--find Katara," he says only it comes out 'fun' katahba' really. "She'll-- prolly wanna know."

And then he's laid back, face half-exploded, and tries to relax.

Jet wins the Most Understated Statement of All Time award. After Steph finds her, Katara does not hurry to Jet's side - she runs, after grabbing her water skin.

Steph is actually left behind as Katara runs off, knowing the way to the infirmary herself, and Katara doesn't think of her again. Her best friend, yes, and she cares very much for Steph.

But the memory of Jet lying broken on an underwater prison is all too fresh in her mind. The only thing fresher as that she couldn't help him.

If Jet can see or hear at all, past his exploded face, there is a frantic, panting Katara, eyes wide and scared as she comes to a stop before his cot and starts to pull her waterskin around.

"Oh, Jet-- hang on, just for a minute..."

One of Jet's puffy eyes open -- he peers at the frantic waterbender with something like amusement, and then says, "Sorry."

Cause, y' know, he's gone and been a bad, bad boy. You can discipline him later maybe, okay?

"I'll yell at you later," Katara mutters, more scared than annoyed as water is pulled between her hands, her eyes on his wounds, not his expression. "Just lie still, you're going to be okay."

Probably, isn't he? There was only one wound she wasn't ever able to heal...

She'll worry about that if it doesn't work. Right now, Katara's busy leaning over him, water spread thin between her hands and over his wounds, cool and gentle as it starts to glow.

Giving something like a sigh of bliss as the pain abates and his flesh returns to it's previous, less mashed configuration, Jet seems to be taking well to healing. This would indicate he's alive, Katara, so you can relax, right?

"Thanks," He breathes, once he can speak more easily. "She cracked my shoulderlade and gave me whiplash, so you'll probably want to hit those, too..." he grins a little, and asys, "Now that I want a magical bending shoulder rub from you at all..."

Yes, even now he manages to flirt with her.

Sorry, Jet, Katara's Flirt Button is broken at the moment. Her panic is sliding rapidly downscale, but she still looks nervous, watching him carefully as he starts to heal. When he speaks, though, she moves her eyes to the water she controls, moving it to his neck and shoulder to continue healing.

"This isn't funny," she says quietly, voice strangely unemotional - except for a little waver near the end of her words. "Don't act like it's a joke. You could have really been hurt."

Cracked bones, exploded face, and whiplash? If she can heal it, it's not that big of a deal.

"Like I haven't had my nose broke before? Katara, c'mon." He sits forward to let her magic fingers do the walking, as it were, and adds, "I've had worse."

He'll get worse in a few weeks, too.

Only he won't be laughing then, will he, Katara?

"It doesn't matter!" It's a snap and the anger in her tone surprises even Katara, whose eyes move from burning on Jet's to-- back on the glowing water, gentling.

No, he wouldn't be laughing. Maybe he wouldn't be doing anything at all.

"...You said you'd stay out of trouble. I told you, this isn't like at home - people can be dangerous here."

"People are dangerous period," Jet says-- but then he's twisting to catch her hand; he's far from stupid -- you can't con a con man, Katara. He knows something's up.

Either she's way more invested in him then he figured (possible, but he's not overly hopeful) or... there's something she knows about his health she's not telling him about this 'future him'.

"I did stay out of trouble. I saw a scared, shook up little girl covered in blood and tried to talk her down. She didn't want to get calm-- and flipped out," he says quietly, but with flat determination. "Sometimes, that happens. One of my girls stabbed me the first time I found her, Katara. She was small and scared and thought I was one of the predators she'd been running from... the one who walk on two legs and do horrid things to little girls. I got a scar from it... and I'm proud of it. This girl--she was calling me her pimp. She was from a bad place. I -- just hope she didn't run BACK to it."

Caught, Katara falls silent as he speaks. Of course, he's caught her hand - it interrupts her bending and his chest is wet with the water that spills there. But it's not like she can't clean it up.

Besides he may be more concerned with the shine of her eyes that speaks of water there, too.

"I just want you to be careful," she says quietly, turning away from him and starting to pull the water out of his clothing. "I'm glad that you-- wanted to help someone, but... just be careful. Please."

He wanted to help Aang, near the end.

Shivering as suddenly HEY COLD WATER GOING PLACES Jet's grip eases, but-- he shskes it off a moment later, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and looking at her.

"...I will. I promise. Here and at home," he says.

Don't you just love promises you know he's going to break, Katara?

Admittedly, it's a little better than finding out he's breaking a promise when it's way too late. And she'd only just had this conversation with Aang, about how they shouldn't tell him anything, the rules of the Bar...

Katara doesn't look up at him, pulling her water back into her sling. She can't say anything to him right now, not even that she believes he'll try.

After all, unless she's dealing with pirates or firebenders, Katara's not that good of a liar.

Jet's hands drop, and there is -- something on his face, something like suspicion or maybe disappointment. Plain frustration, too. But he doesn't know what to say, or how to ease her pain, or...

Anything.

"Guess it's useless to promise, when it's already broken, innit?"

Her face falls but there's no surprise there - Jet was never stupid and she knows she can't lie.

Maybe she didn't want to, either.

is the only thing she can say to him. It's fair, after all - he got hurt but-- she really just doesn't know what happened to him.

A flick of her wrist has water sliding back into her sling-- and a few droplets from her eyes as well.

He pauses as he looks up at her, before he reaches up to smooth her tears away. "Hey, now. None of that. Freedom Fighters -- or the Avatar's pals -- don't cry. You're a little of both, aren't you?"

He's not going to worry. He's not going to fear. He's always known -- on some level -- that his life was going to be short, it's chapters opened and closed with violence...

...but that doesn't mean he doesn't-- sometimes-- want the sweeter, more meaningful things in life. Like this girl; this girl who believes in so much hope when his has been eroded by the river of time and harsh living...

He can still hope, though. It's why, with his hand on her cheek, that he leans over and without a thought to the consequence, kisses her lightly; not the kiss of a boy who woos -- it's not the kiss of a boy who oozes confidence and purpose from every pore...

It's a light thing; a gentler, sweeter thing-- courtship and affection and we got time when maybe they don't, not really.

That's the problem, isn't it? Maybe they have time, maybe they don't, maybe the door will never come back for him, or maybe it will and he'll never make it back to the bar.

Katara thinks it's silly, telling her who does and doesn't cry. Everyone cries and she doesnt think there's anything wrong with it, with anyone who does. But it doesn't mean she doesn't understand what he's telling her, to be strong, to understand that bad things are going to happen.

It also doesn't mean she can't appreciate the good things, eyes wet and face dry when he cups her cheek, lashes wet when she closes her eyes and leans in for his kiss.

Forgiveness, in all its forms, is best given this way.

For all that Jet nearly embodies the term diamond in the rough, his edges are gentled now. His hands are warm on her skin, callouses from swordword and tree climbing and bomb-making losing some of their harshness.

Her face cupped, he kisses her slowly -- but lightly, gently. His thumb traces the apple of her cheekbone, and he draws away only after a few steady heartbeats have passed.

"See," he says quietly, his dark eyes half-lidded -- but to hide the uncertainty that lurks there. "S'why Mama's always say 'kiss it better'. Cause it -- does make everything better."

Soft and light, unsure, this is not the Katara that slammed him up against a tree with a waterfall - this is the one that blushed when he pulled her up into the trees with him. Eyes closed even when he pulls away, Katara smiles softly, exhaling in a laugh with his words-- but her head stays bowed, even as a hand rises to curl around his wrist.

If anything, she worries more.

"Didn't ask to be fixed," he says simply. And he didn't. He puts a hand to her shoulder, and then says, "Trust me-- no matter what's coming, Katara... please. Give me that much?"

You can't really earn trust if no one puts a little faith in you.

Looking up sharply, Katara opens her eyes now with her fingers a little tighter around his wrist. "No! No, that's not what I meant, Jet-- I do trust you, I do..." Flailing verbally for a moment, Katara shakes her head, gaze falling somewhere near his chest.

"...I like you. A lot. Everything I was so angry at you for, you-- you made up for it, you really did. But I don't know what happened to you after..."

So what is she supposed to do? Be there for him, love him-- then betray him, like Zuko did to Stephanie?

"Do you think I'm-- dead, Katara?"

May as well just lay it out on the table. Jet's always been pragmatic like that; none of this beating around the bush crap -- unless it involves a lie.

But Katara doesn't lie. And she wouldn't lie about this even if she could.

Not if it could hurt someone she cared about, no.

With her gaze down, Katara sees it all again - Jet turning on Aang, apologizing even as he attacked, breaking the hold Long Feng had on him and leaping to save the Avatar he had just attacked--

His wounds as they felt beneath her hands when nothing she did could help him, no matter how much water she used, no matter how badly she wanted it.

Inhaling sharply, Katara lifts her head. He can say that freedom fighters, that warriors of the Avatar don't cry - but people who care do, no matter what else they are.

"I don't know. But..."

Maybe.

That's a heavy thing -- in the future, he may die. He -- looks at her, for a moment-- and--

--it doesn't sink in.

AT least, not yet. He's sixteen, but has no illusions about his immortality. He has lost everything-- he knows he will lose his life, likely, before he ever knows settling down or family or these sweet things that he wishes he could attain.

"Then," he says, "Don't think about it. I won't either. What happens-- happens. For now.... For now, we're here together. S'enough for me."

That's-- not good. She's not sure what she wanted, but this isn't good.

"Jet, no, you can't just not think about it, it doesn't work that way." Sighing softly, frustrated, Katara reaches for his hands, squeezing just a little to anchor him.

And to make him listen.

"If it happens, if that's what really happens and you come back here, you'll be Bound - you can't ever leave the Bar. But I'll still be able to go back and forth, and when the door comes back for me it won't let me stay. I'll have to go back, I'll have to--"

Follow her destiny. Aren't those the words Zuko used to explain why he couldn't stay?

Katara isn't choking on her words but, oh, she'd like to.

"You'll do what you have to do. Katara," Jet looks at her for a moment, and then says, "... don't you trust me, of all people, to understand necessity?"

Doing what's necessary. He gets it. He will get it.

"I won't -- hold it against you, if that's what you're thinking," he says; and he's confident in the way fools are. He has no idea... what he's saying. Anything to wipe the fear and anxiety from her face.

Fear and anxiety are just replaced with frustration, giving his wrists a shake. "Stop that! Hurting people isn't necessity, not if you think about it first! There are always ways to get around things! I care about you and I'm just-- I'm just going to!"

She's learned, after all this time, that it's impossible for her not to.

"But I don't have to hurt you."

...even if that kiss was really nice.

"So on the idea that I might not be coming back through the door some day..." Jet says, "And let me get this straight here-- cause I might be dead... you don't want to... to... follow what you're feeling," because he knows it's there, "And deny yourself instead, because of what might be?"

THere is a 'bitch, are you for real?' look following this statement.

Katara's look replies with 'bitch, do not make me feel bad for doing the right thing.'

"I don't want to jump into something that I want and then lose you completely later, if I can just-- be your friend, no matter what happens."

And if it turns out that he survives, that he's all right-- well. They'll see.

Jet does not seem to like this compromise.

"Sorry," he says. "But I want to live-- and have everything I can. I never-- figured out how to play it safe."

He shifts now, edging down the bed. Insulted? Hurt? Maybe a little.

"I'll see you around, then, pal."

She's insulted, too - isn't she good enough to be his friend, even if they can't be anything else? Isn't she good enough to wait for, when she's willing to wait for him, to make sure neither of them get hurt?

Of course, that Katara still believes that people can keep from getting hurt says a lot.

Still holding his wrists, Katara tightens her fingers around him, looking at him. "Is that so bad? That I don't want to hurt you? Is that why you're angry with me? I've been here for a long time, Jet, and I've seen people hurt each other the way I'm talking about! They jump into something they want and they don't think and then people get hurt!"

"I'm glad you're making choices for me, sure. You sure enjoyed it when I did it to you," Jet snaps back. But then he tempers himself.

"You're telling me... basically, 'Unless I can have the whole pie, I don't want even a taste'," he says, voice low. "... but you're making that choice for both of us. If I'm going to die, I don't -- want to-- to have played it safe, to have ever-- had things. I've lost enough already, now you're gonna take away a chance out of-- fear? What about me? If -- I die in a few months, should I be living the next few weeks like they're my last or pretending I've got time -- to do things tomorrow? And when the times up, then what? 'Glad I didn't indulge in that pie'?"

He sighs, and then says, "I get why you're doing it. I do. But that doesn't make it fair or right. You're protecting yourself. But people hurt each other every day. We've already hurt each other. I lied to you and disappointed you and you froze me to a tree and practically spat in my face! We've already hurt each other. We'll probably do it again. We're doing it now."

And that's the truth isn't it? She wants to play it safe, he wants to live fast and love now... because if tomorrow doesn't come... well...

He won't know what that pie was like, will he?

Pie.

Dropping his wrists abruptly with that snap, Katara stands, glaring at him. "That isn't the same thing and you know it! What you did to me was entirely selfish, just what you thought would make your life easier! What I'm trying to do now is for both of us!

"My best friend was left behind because she died in her world and the guy she was with is still living! And he dropped her because his world wouldn't let him stay here! So don't you dare compare trying to kill my brother with me trying to keep you from feeling the way she does because I've watched her hurt!"

It's different, so different-- and there's no small part of herself that doesn't ever want to be Zuko.

"I didn't try kill him! Just tried to keep him out of the way, Katara! Things just got out of hand." Jet snaps. The near fatality was... well... okay. Not the best. But it wasn't like he PLOTTED for Sokka to drown SPECIFICALLY.

IT was just-- another body for the cause.

"And I'm sorry your friend hurts," he says, straightening; there's blood on his collar from his nose, and he looks rumpled even more now. "But I'm more sorry that it's made you decide that you know what's best for me. I already buried a mother; I don't need another one."

He turns away. "Look me up when you're ready to let me have a say in my own life. While I've got one, anyway."

"Stop it!" she snaps, tugging on his wrists again, glaring as they both stand. "You yell at me for being selfish and now you're yelling at me because I'm mothering you?! Which is it? I'm nto trying to be either, Jet, and I'm not trying to make your decisions for you - I'm trying to make mine. What are you saying, that it's better to just forget everything I'm just told you, about being Bound and getting hurt and all of it, just so we can have a few weeks to kiss?! Because that's the only thing that's going to be different with what you're talking about! I'll be your friend either way but the only pie you're talking about is my lips!"

"..." Jet just looks at her for a long moment, blinking his eyes. Did she really think it was that simple?

"S... so you made your choice," he says. "And I'll respect that. Just friends," he says, and puts his hands up to forestall anymore arguements. The anger's sapping out of him now. "But-- if you're right, and I'm really dead..."

He shakes his head.

"No. Just forget it. 'night, Katara."

He's got to get away from this.

This-- isn't right. He agrees with her, fine, but he doesn't understand and this-- doesn't make a good friend, this anger and irritation and sapping. It's not right.

"Jet--" Her voice is entirely too plaintive, needy really, and her face mirrors it. She doesn't want to lose him again, but...

"Wait."

He stops at the infirmary door, reaching up to massage the newly repaired bridge of his nose.

""

It's not right. But that doesn't mean she knows how to fix it.

Katara is left standing, unsure and upset by his cot, his blood still staining the sheets, the hands that healed him flexing nervously at her sides. But she just can't-- think. How is she supposed to make this right?

She thought that was what she was doing.

""

He squares his shoulders and slips out of the infirmary, quiet and tense. There was a stiff drink calling his name out there.

"No, wait! That's not--"

It isn't, is it? It really isn't. She wasn't just doing this for herself, she was doing it for the both of them, because Stephanie hurt and because Zuko was a jackass and because... because...

Because Jet wasn't Steph and she wasn't Zuko. So what does it really matter, in the end?

Now would be the best and worst time to go find her best friend for a girls' night.