Adrift chapter 10

I'm not a monster.

Jet… he doesn't hate me anymore.

I'm an idiot. He's just saying that. Of course he does. Everyone in this world hates me. Why am I thinking that Jet's somehow changed?

I can't believe it. He's definitely lying.

And yet…

The thought- of the iron-hard wall of hate between them crumbling at long last- feels oddly… light, as if, if Zuko keeps thinking like this, if he keeps holding Jet's hand like this, he'll somehow sprout wings and fly off, a firecracker in a daytime sky.

No. He still hates me. Nothing has changed.

And… even if he did care about me, everything else would still be the same. I'd still be the Prince, he'd still be an Earth Kingdom peasant, and I'd find the Avatar, go home and forget all about this mess for good.

He and I… we never could…

Zuko pushes down the part of him that chirps out nasty treasonous thoughts like this war is wrong and your father never loved you and Jet's the only real friend you've ever had.

And the worst (best) thought of all: I don't want to go home. I want to stay.

With Jet.

Stop it!

Zuko knows he should let go of Jet, but it feels like someone has earthbent their hands together.

And so he tightens his fingers around Jet's hand instead, afraid that if he lets go, he'll fall into the void.

Or maybe it's the other way around.

Maybe it's Jet that's causing him to fall.

The scary part is that Zuko doesn't know if he wants to be rescued.

Jet turns to face him, though he can't quite seem to meet Zuko's eyes, and his tears leave sparkling tracks down his cheeks.

He's crying?

Did he… shit.

Did he really mean what he said?

Zuko's heartbeat does a funny jump at the thought, and he almost has to stop himself from reaching out and wiping the other boy's tears away.

But not quite.

He's not that lost yet.

Or maybe he's not that found.

"Jet?"

"Yeah?"

"You said I'm not a monster." His next words feel forced and oddly light, as if his mouth twists around a strange laugh. "But you don't really believe that, do you. You still hate me just as much as ever."

"I don't."

The words themselves are an angry snarl, but it's impossible to doubt their ring of painful truth.

"What, do you want me to hate you or something? 'Cause I'd be more than happy to oblige," Jet snaps.

He was telling the truth!

He doesn't hate me anymore!

That light, floating sensation is back again, stronger than before and sharing space in Zuko's brain with a hundred fantasies of leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Jet, of pressing their lips together and letting their bodies, hearts, minds, souls all entwine and become one, a Gordian Knot of two people who never, ever should have met.

And maybe, just maybe, if he does so, if he reaches out to touch him and doesn't stop, the some of his own lightness will spread to Jet and they'll go flying into the sky and leave this mess of a world and all the hatred, all the rules keeping them from each other behind.

"Zuko?" Jet sounds almost as disbelieving as he would if he'd suddenly found himself smack-dab in the middle of the Spirit World.

"What?"

"You're smiling."

What am I thinking?! I can't fall in love with him.

I have a duty to my country! I can't just go running off with some Earth Kingdom peasant! It's just not right.

What would Father say?

Zuko tries to picture what Fire Lord Ozai's face would look like if he knew his son was putting his feelings for a male Earth Kingdom peasant ahead of his duties to the Fire Nation and tries not to wince.

"I'm not smiling," he says with all the bitterness he can muster.

"Well, you were. Just a second ago," Jet says with a smirk. "You should do it more. You're pretty cute when you smile."

"I thought you said I was cute when I'm angry," Zuko grumbles, turning his face away from Jet so he can't see the blush lingering on his unscarred cheek.

"I think it's both." With those words, Jet laughs and slips his arm around Zuko's shoulder, pulling him closer. "But…. you really should smile more. Hey, it can't be bad for you."

I can't love him. It would be a disgrace. Zuko squeezes his eyes shut. I'm a disgrace.

I always have been.

Zuko pushes Jet away from him and pulls himself to his feet, hot tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

Disgrace disgrace disgrace.

Shut up!

He storms off to the far edges of the raft, trying desperately to go somewhere, anywhere, but here, with the boy who sets his heart on fire and pulls him into the sky, far, far away from home.

Why?! he feels like shouting. Why does Jet have to exist?!

Why do I have to exist?

His tears make tiny circles in the water.

ooo

"Jet?" Zuko says some time later, more out of an attempt to break the oppressive, smothering silence, the kind of silence that comes when you're utterly alone, save for the birds and the wind and the steadily lapping waves, than anything else.

Jet doesn't turn to face him. "What?"

"Well…. this may sound stupid, but… we've got this fishing line and all, but how do we know if we've caught anything?"

Jet shoots him an incredulous look. "Yes, it does sound stupid. You've really never been fishing before?"

"Well, uh… no. Not really."

Jet rolls his eyes. "Oh right. The whole royalty thing. Here's what you do. You just keep one hand one the line, wait for a tug, then pull it in. Got that, Your Highness?"

Zuko glares back at him. I thought I told you to stop calling me that. "Yeah. I got it. Whatever. So we just wait?

"Yeah."

"How long is it gonna take?"

"Until a fish bites it." Jet sighs. "You're not a real patient person, are you?"

ooo

Three hours later, Jet realizes just how right he was.

It turns out Zuko's method of catching fish involves a lot of long sighs and angry glares at the water, as if he can somehow force the fish onto their makeshift hook by thoughts alone. To Jet, it's just one more tick on the list of his annoyingly endearing traits.

Now, Zuko sits at the edge of their raft, watching the late afternoon's elderly sun change the world from blue to gold, and Jet watches as his shoulders rise and then fall with the sort of breath that's drawn as tight as a string, as if he's only one more worry, one more bad day, one more scar, away from snapping in two like a broken twig.

Jet remembers that first day on the ferry and that first glimpse of the strange, scarred boy who carries himself like a cross between nobility and a too-tightly coiled spring, and remembers wondering just what it would take to work his way past the other boy's shell, what it would take to make his lips smile, what it would take to feel them against his own.

Jet remembers Zuko's fleeting smile and his good cheek flushed red, and he tosses and turns that memory until it's worn like a cobble on a storm-tossed shore, then tucks it in close to his heart and feels the sharp, deep bite of he's the Fire Prince with it.

It draws blood.

You should hate him.

But I don't. I've tried, but I don't.

Jet closes his eyes, and, within seconds, he's eight years old again and smelling burning flesh on the wind.

This is what the Fire Nation does, he thinks, or forces himself to. They're murderers. Heartless monsters that leave a trail of ash and rubble and broken lives in their wake. I should hate them… I should.

Mom, Dad… if you were still alive… what would you think of me right now?

…I guess, what I'm trying to say here is, which is worse, trying to drown a village or feeling this for the Prince of the spirits-damned Fire Nation?

The question feels ridiculous, even to him.

I'll probably have to kill him at some point, still….

Jet's breath stops short.

No.

I can't… I won't… I have to… damn it!

The thought of this world without Zuko in it, without the boy who's burned him and warmed him and caught his heart in his flames, with him all alone against the sea and the sky…

And yet… if I don't kill him eventually… he'll just go back. He'll capture the Avatar, go back to his father, and… fuck.

Jet feels distinctly as if his heart is being split in two.

Damn you, Zuko. Damn you. If I hadn't seen you that day on the ferry, then none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have fallen for you- I wouldn't be sitting here wondering if killing the person who's trying to capture the Avatar is the fucking right thing to do or not!

Jet's hands tighten around the broken edges of the raft, leaving bloody splinters in their wake.

Damn you!

If I hadn't met you, Zuko…. if only I'd never met you… though, somehow, even after all this… I'm glad I did.

He steals a glance at Zuko, his eyes tracing the muscles of the other boy's back, his mind filled with memories… that first night on the ferry; their first moments together at sea; the stinging reveal; their first kiss; the days of thirst that followed; Zuko telling his story, his voice raw and broken, his eyes so bright against the pitch of the night; their hands intertwined…

So glad.

Look at me. I'm pathetic. Letting my feelings get ahold of me like this… If he doesn't die, then… then the Fire Nation might win. I can't- I won't let that happen. I won't.

When we get rescued, I'll definitely kill him. It's for the world. I have to.

The board in Jet's clenched fist finally snaps, letting the pieces of wood fall into the water with a soft plop.

I'm sorry, Zuko, Jet thinks as a fresh round of tears springs to his eyes, I'm gonna have to hurt you.

The noise he makes is half a sob, half an inhuman cry.

I'm sorry… so sorry…

ooo

The noise that comes from Jet is bleeding and broken and chilling, and Zuko's heart skips a beat at the sound.

"Jet?" he says, turning to face the other boy. "What's wrong?"

Jet looks up at him, tears sparkling on his cheeks once more. "I'm going to kill you."

Zuko sucks in a breath. I knew it. I knew it was too good to be true. You still hate me. I was a fool.

His body moves into a firebending stance in a heartbeat and he watches Jet's face melt from sadness to anger at the sight and all he can think is why?

I thought… I thought he didn't hate me anymore. I thought we were past that… but… he's sad. Maybe he doesn't… I don't understand.

He lets his hands drop to his sides.

If he still doesn't hate me… then why does he still want me dead?

And it's that word that manages to escape his lips.

"Why?"

"Not now. But after we're rescued…" Jet says, his voice thick. "You have to die. Otherwise…" here his face twists into a sneer, "you'll just go running back to your precious daddy, won't you?"

Zuko closes his eyes. Yes. I will.

Jet chuckles, but there's no humor in it. "I was right. Damn it. I was right."

His expression changes into one twisted by rage- whether at him or at something else, Zuko doesn't know. "Why are you doing this, Zuko? Why are you even listening to him!? All that bastard's ever done is hurt you- hurt the world. Why?!"

I need my honor back. It's my duty, he thinks, or forces himself to.

The words that spill out, half-mumbled and unbidden, are something entirely different. "I'm sorry, Jet."

"I'm sorry too."

And their world falls silent save for the drumbeat lapping of the waves.

ooo

The sun is almost swimming by the time their lonely world changes again, its fiery rays painting the sea a bloody gold.

Jet's the first one to notice it, the speck darting across the horizon like a fly against the amber sun, growing larger by the second.

A ship.

So this is it.

The part where we try to kill each other and pretend these last few days never happened.

He steals a glance at Zuko, sitting there on the raft with his fingers trailing in the water.

I'm sorry.

Jet pushes him out of his heart, hardens it like crystal.

"There's a ship."

Zuko's head snaps up. "Where?"

Jet points.

Zuko's face settles into a mask of grim determination, his hands moving into a firebending stance once more. He knows what is to come, just as much as Jet does.

No. Not yet, Jet thinks. I'm unarmed. I can't win against him.

Once we're safe, he'll be a prisoner of war, won't he? I won't have to hurt him myself.

And Jet can breathe again.

I wish…

ooo

The Avatar once told me that, in a different lifetime, we would've been friends, Zuko thinks as he watches Jet, trying to still the pounding of his heart. What would you and I have been, Jet?

He knows.

He's known all along- he's just been unable to say it, to shape the feelings in his heart into a name.

A brilliant orb of fire whistles through the air above their heads and lands in the water just short of the raft, sending up a great column of steam with a boom! that shatters the still air like ice.

Zuko looks up, his breath caught in his throat.

He knows that fire- and sure enough, their hoped-for (maybe rescue, maybe damnation) sails proudly clad in red and black.

It's a Fire Nation ship.