Fic: Memory, Loss

[foxysquidalso]

More fan fiction? Noooooooooooo! Uh, I crossposted this to jetheartszuko, cause I am ruthlessly spamming them.

Title: Memory, Loss
Author: Foxysquid
Pairings: implied Jet/Zuko, hints of Jet/Longshot/Smellerbee
Spoilers: Up to Season 2, episode 17, "Lake Laogai"
Rating: 13+ for mild sexual content
Word count: 1,980
Notes: Jet struggles with his memory loss.


Memory, Loss.


The calls and conversations of passersby floated in through the open window, as indistinct as voices in a dream. It was a quiet day in Ba Sing Se.

"Jet." Smellerbee kept her voice low, as if she didn't want to disturb the peace.

Bee was on one side of him, Longshot on the other. They were sitting together on the straw-filled mattress that claimed a good portion of their tiny apartment's floor space. Jet shifted position, turning towards her, and the straw crackled beneath him. "Yeah?"

"Your memory--how much of it did she bring back?"

At her words, he seemed to feel the soothing yet unsettling wash of Katara's water over his temples again. He shook his head, his expression still dazed. "I don't know. I remember that place under the lake." Memories flickered in his mind: the chill of dark water, bright lights flashing before his eyes, a cool touch on his forehead. He hesitated before amending, "Parts of it."

The three of them were alone together for the first time since their chance reunion in the street. The others had gone to make last minute preparations for the journey to Lake Laogai, or so they had said, though their parting glances had seemed to suggest another motive. Jet appreciated the sentiment, but now that he was alone with his friends, he didn't know what to say to them.

"You remember us, though, don't you?" Bee smiled hopefully, but her worry showed in her eyes.

Jet nodded, slowly. "Yeah, some things." He frowned. "I thought I'd left you."

Her hair was falling in her eyes, and she blew it back with an angry puff of breath aimed upwards. "They shouldn't have made you think that. You'd never leave us. Not us. We wouldn't leave you, either."

Jet nodded again, although still uncertain. He didn't remember. He remembered traveling to the underground refugee camp alone, booking passage on the ferry, arriving in the city, finding a job, a place to live. But when he concentrated, critically examining this version of recent events, there were too many blank spaces. Details that should have been there were missing. He couldn't remember shops he had frequented, the names of people he had spoken to, jokes he had told. He enjoyed meeting people, making friends. But the more he tried to recall the faces of the people he must have met in Ba Sing Se, the hazier the past weeks became.

"Hey, it's all right." Smellerbee rested a hand on his right arm, just below his shoulder armor. The touch brought him back to himself as he realized he'd been drifting, his gaze fixed on the far wall. He looked down at her as she continued, "We're together again. And I bet you'll start remembering more stuff real soon. Right, Longshot?"

As one, they both looked to Long. He nodded.

"See? Even he thinks so, and he's always right." Bee gave Jet's arm a brief squeeze.

"Maybe." He looked away, turning to face the wall again. Did he want to remember?

The holes and falsifications in his memory were inconsistent. He had memories of Katara and the Avatar, but he only remembered certain things about the time they'd spent together. Why had he fought against them? He and the Freedom Fighters had had a plan, he knew that. Thinking back, he saw Katara's tears, recalled the ice encasing his limbs, immobilizing him. He hadn't meant to upset her. He had tried his hardest to make her understand something important ... but what?

"Hey, Jet," Bee said.

He'd been drifting again. He blinked at her.

"We missed you," she said. "We were so worried. We thought--"

Longshot gestured, briefly lifting one hand, and Bee broke off.

Jet couldn't help but smile at them both. They still looked worried. "You said I was arrested."

Her dark eyes were wide. "Yeah, the Dai Li took you, and we couldn't stop them. We tried so hard to find you so we could break you out. We looked everywhere."

"Why?" Jet asked.

"Why did we look? Jet, of course we--"

He didn't let her finish, keeping his voice low as he interrupted. "No. Why did they arrest me? What did I do?"

"Oh." Bee and Long shared a pointed look that wasn't lost on him.

"What? What is it?"

Bee bit her lip, hesitating before she replied. "You got in a fight."

"A fight with who?"

"You--really don't remember?"

"No, I really don't."

Bee's hand was still on his arm. Again, she tightened her grip, but this time she held on tight. "It was just a boy. Nobody important."

Her words made his heartbeat quicken. His hands formed fists. Suddenly, he was agitated. Why? "What do you mean, nobody important? If I got arrested because of it, I think that's pretty important."

"Yeah, but it doesn't matter who he was. That part isn't important."

These words made him more agitated rather than less. Jet jumped to his feet, wrenching his arm free of her grasp. He strode to the far side of the room, then turned to face his friends, glaring at them both. "You're lying to me."

Bee's mouth curved into a sad half-smile. "Jet, believe me. We don't want to lie to you. That's the last thing we want to do. We don't think you're ready to remember, that's all. And there isn't time right now."

"Tell me."

She held his gaze as her smile disappeared. "It was a boy, like I said. We don't know who he was, not really. Later we'll talk about it. When we get back from the lake. We promise."

His earlier attempt to recall his childhood had been painful. The deceptive haziness of his recent memories was frustrating. This was different. This was maddening. His pulse tripped through his wrists and temples when Smellerbee mentioned the boy. He was breathing hard. His face felt hot, and it confused him. Why was his body reacting like this, when his mind didn't remember? The most disturbing part was the fact that he didn't know what it meant. Only that he wanted to know. He took a step backwards. He felt the wall at his back. "Why can't you tell me now?"

"Jet." Bee got to her feet and moved towards him. He let her approach. Longshot was quick to follow, coming to stand just behind her. Bee slid her hand into Jet's own. "Not now, please. Trust us."

His anger with them had arisen quickly and dissipated just as rapidly. These were his friends. He held on to Bee's hand. "No. I have to remember."

"Don't do this," she pleaded. Her grip was so tight, her small hands strengthened and hardened from years of battle and tree-climbing. "I don't want to see you like that again."

Again. Her word reinforced his belief that this was essential. This was something that he had to remember. He closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. The muscles in his neck and shoulders tightened as he struggled to win back his memories.

Why was this so important to him? He couldn't say, because he didn't know what this was, not yet. You got in a fight, Bee had said. He concentrated on that thought.

He heard the light whisper of a blade cutting through air. Then another. His hooks struck metal, the impact of the blow felt in his joints. Sweat on his skin, a bead formed at his temple rolling down the side of his face. He worried it might get in his eyes. He moved fast, smoothly, stepping back to retreat and forward to strike. His opponent also wielded dual blades. Whoever it was, there was real skill behind the blows. The two of them were well matched; Jet wasn't used to being kept on his guard, straining like this. He jumped up, was driven back.

His body remembered the fight. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't see his adversary. He didn't know who it was.

His eyes snapped open. He was squeezing Bee's hand as tightly as he could, but she didn't seem to mind. She gazed up at him steadily.

"Who was it?" he demanded.

"Jet--"

"Tell me, please."

She sighed and turned to Longshot. He looked at her and nodded. When she finally spoke, it was softly, her tone resigned. "Like I said, it was just a boy. You thought he was a Firebender. I don't know if he was. You started watching him all the time, trying to find proof. We couldn't talk to you anymore. You wouldn't listen to us. We tried to make you stop."

Jet shook his head violently, as if he could shake off the constraints on his memory. "I don't remember! Why did they do this to me?"

"Maybe it's for the best, Jet." Bee kept her voice deliberately calm. "For right now."

Sweat stood on Jet's forehead. His eyes were wide. "Tell me, who was he?"

"I told you, just a boy! We met him on the ferry."

At the word ferry, Jet gave a start as a rush of sense memories overwhelmed him. The feel of rough cloth. Fingers grasping at his hair. Smooth, warm limbs moving against his own. The sound of ragged breaths. The scent of salt on skin. The taste of skin, made gritty by a few particles of dirt. A mouth, hot and wet on his throat. Too hot. He should have known--

Jet was shaking now. Bee was still holding one of his hands, and Longshot took the other.

"Don't remember that, Jet," said Bee, drawing closer to him, speaking in his ear. "We don't want to lose you again." Letting his hand go, she wrapped her thin arms around his waist.

Longshot held his hand more tightly and spoke: "Remember us."

"Yeah," said Bee. "Remember all the times we went swimming in the pond together? And the Notice Tree? Remember that time Pipsqueak caught a hogmonkey with his bare hands? And The Duke's spear-fishing?"

Jet stilled. He was listening to her.

Sensing she had his attention, Bee continued hurriedly. "And there was that one time when we stole a shipment of wine from the Fire Nation, and it was lots of fun until we started getting sick. And the next morning you said we'd use wine to barter with from then on. You must remember that, Jet."

Her words tugged at him, pulling his mind away from those sharp, fragmented memories of someone whose face he could not see.

"You do remember, don't you?" Her voice shook a little, as if she was afraid of what his answer might be.

Jet reached out for his memories. He grasped them. His head came up, and he straightened where he stood. Bee released him, taking a step back. For a moment, the sun was on his face and the wind was in his hair. He heard the sound of leaves rustling all around him, birdcalls sounding from somewhere nearby. There were branches beneath his feet. He leapt. He was flying. The haze in his mind drew back--only to close in again, all too soon.

Jet sagged. "Part of it's there, but the rest--"

"It's all right, Jet," Bee said. Together, she and Longshot helped him back to the mattress. "Let's rest for a little while, until they get back."

On the bed, Jet lay down with them, as he had so many times back home. He remembered this. Bee on one side of him, Long on the other. They were warm. Bee leaned in to kiss his cheek. "It'll come back to you."

"Yeah," he said. His mind presented him with a glimpse of scar tissue, an ugly red. He didn't know what what it meant. He shuddered. "Maybe it will."