Chapter Text
There’s a rush at the teashop, but Zuko still notices: Jet’s late.
Jet’s never late.
Zuko takes a tray of freshly poured tea to a random table which is hopefully the right table, more occupied with keeping an eye on the door than anything else. Jet continues not to show up, and neither does Smellerbee or Longshot or even Song. Zuko itches to do . . . something, though he doesn’t know what. He just wants Jet to show up and just . . . be here. He’s supposed to be here.
Zuko isn’t very good at any of this, but he knows where Jet’s supposed to be.
He knows where he wants Jet to be.
It’s not right, that he isn’t here.
“Nephew? Is something wrong?” Uncle says with a frown, and Zuko ignores him and takes the newest tray of tea to another random table. There are a lot of people in the shop right now, but again, it’s hopefully the right one.
He really doesn’t care if it’s not.
Jin walks in the front door. Zuko nearly snaps at her for being the wrong person.
“Are you alright?” she asks as he comes over to her, blinking up at him. “You look bothered.”
“I’m fine,” Zuko lies, and Jet still doesn’t show up. He seriously considers just leaving in the middle of his shift, but then Uncle would have to cover for him with Pao and he really can’t stand that idea. “The usual?”
“Yes, please,” Jin says, then peers over his shoulder. “Um. If I can find a table.”
“Someone will leave eventually,” Zuko says, then heads back towards the kitchen. Uncle is setting another tray in the window. “Jin wants her usual.”
“Of course,” Uncle says with a nod, picking up the teapot. “How is she?”
“I didn’t ask,” Zuko says with a shrug, taking the tea tray. He probably wouldn’t have thought to even if Jet weren’t late, honestly, but he definitely didn’t with him missing.
“Perhaps you could,” Uncle says wryly, and Zuko shrugs again and takes the tea to . . . probably the right table, this time. At least, no one complains.
He comes back for Jin’s tea and takes it to her, along with a little plate of her favorite sweets. She’s found a tiny table crammed into the corner and is looking around awkwardly.
“Your friend isn’t here, is he?” she asks hesitantly. “Um. Not that I mind him, just I don’t think—”
“He’s not here,” Zuko says tersely. Jin’s shoulders relax.
“Okay,” she says, and accepts the tea he’s still holding. “Thank you.”
Zuko shrugs, his own shoulders tense. Jet’s still late, and he still doesn’t feel any better about it. The fact that Jin’s noticing he’s not here too is . . . not comforting, frankly. Admittedly, she usually tries to avoid Jet. They don’t seem to like each other. Which, well—Jet definitely wouldn’t like her if he knew, so that’s probably for the best.
It’s still driving him crazy that the other’s not here.
Maybe Jet would be able to understand, if he knew, Zuko thinks. At least about Jin.
Definitely not about him and Uncle, but maybe Jin.
It’s a thought to distract himself with, but it’s not actually that distracting a thought. He moves on to the next table, leaving Jin to her tea and sweets, but that doesn’t distract him either. All he can think about is Jet, missing, and what might be wrong. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe the street was just busy, or his latest job ran late, or he’s just taking his time getting here. It’s a nice day out. He might be.
Zuko has a hard time imagining it, but he might be.
Maybe.
He grits his teeth. He takes out another tray of tea, and the rush just gets worse. It’s still not enough to distract him. He definitely mixes up a few orders, and the customers definitely complain, and it’s awful and miserable and makes him want to spit fire. Which he can’t, obviously. But he wants to.
He needs Jet to walk in that stupid spiritsdamned door already.
He needs him to.
But he still doesn’t.
.
.
.
Longshot doesn't know anything is wrong until he gets home. Morning at the teashop was normal, afternoon job hunting was normal, and the evening work was normal.
The pair of Dai Li agents across the street are not normal.
Longshot doesn't go into the apartment. Jet and Smellerbee won't be there. Not with someone watching.
The question is, where would they be?
Longshot keeps walking, and thinks about where to go. Not Lee and Mushi's, obviously; not the teashop or Song's either. And . . . that's the options list exhausted, pretty much. And Song’s was already pushing it as an option, frankly.
They don't have emergency boltholes or rendezvous points here. They don't have anything here, except for Lee and Mushi and unreliable work. And Longshot isn't taking the Dai Li to a Fire soldier's doorstep. He doesn't think he trusts Mushi, but he knows he doesn't want him dead or in prison, and neither does Jet or Smellerbee, and definitely neither does Lee.
So options are limited, right now.
Longshot walks. The Dai Li across the street don't follow him, but the ones that melt out of the shadows of the rooftops overhead do. Longshot knows how to shake a tail in the forest, but this isn't a forest or even his turf at all. They've lived in this neighborhood for a while now, but that doesn't mean much compared to people who were probably born and raised in Ba Sing Se. He notices them fine, but losing them . . .
Yeah, that's going to be a lot harder.
He wishes he had someone to watch his back, but not enough to wish someone else was in as much trouble as he is right now.
It's a long walk to nowhere. And Longshot has arrows, but not enough for every Dai Li in Ba Sing Se. Not enough to matter. He could take out the two following him, but there's got to be dozens upon dozens more, if not hundreds. He doesn't even know either way. None of them do.
He still wants to draw his bow and nock an arrow. Still wants to take those Dai Li out. Still wants to fight.
He's a freedom fighter, after all.
But he didn't make it this long as one by drawing his bow every time he wanted to.
No matter how much he wants to.
This isn't like the trees, though, so Longshot just keeps walking. Back home there'd be backup in a dozen different places, and these Dai Li would never know what hit them. Here, it's the other way around.
Longshot hasn't been outnumbered like this too many times since Jet found him. He doesn't like the feeling. There was always more Fire Nation, always more people ready to break a pot at the sight of him, always more people ready and willing to chase them off or kill them, Earth or Fire, but . . .
Usually he'd had Jet's smirk and swords, Smellerbee’s grim knives, Pipsqueak and Sneers and the Duke and all the rest of them. Usually there'd been someone just as willing to fight beside him; someone who knew him better than anyone trying to kill him ever could.
Right now he'd be glad for Lee's unfamiliar blades or whatever it is Song's been keeping hidden up her sleeves, even.
Right now he'd be glad for Mushi, and whatever that might entail.
He doesn't have any of them, though, and he doesn't have a safe bolthole or enough arrows or a place to hide. All he can do is keep walking, and try to think. Plans are Jet's specialty, though, not his.
He doesn't exactly have a choice about it right now, though.
No. He really doesn't.
The Dai Li drift a little closer behind him. Longshot only doesn't tense up out of long, long years of practice. He doesn't think they know he's spotted them, and he doesn't want to change that. It's the only advantage he has. Or the closest thing to one, anyway.
The closer they get, the more he wants to draw his bow.
It occurs to him that they might’ve already taken Jet and Smellerbee, but he dismisses the thought immediately. No. They're following him. If they had the others, they would've just arrested him too.
He thinks.
He hopes.
Longshot exhales, and doesn't draw his bow. It's not going to help this time.
He just doesn't know what could help. If he runs, they're going to chase him. If he fights, they'll fight back. If he goes to one of the others, they'll know where the others are.
If he does nothing, though, they're going to do something first.
.
.
.
Smellerbee is exhausted today; this morning’s job was merciless hard labor, and searching for tomorrow’s was even harder. She really wishes they could find jobs more like Lee’s, but she doesn’t really think she could hold down something steady either, honestly. Their lives are just . . . not like that.
It’s a relief to see the teashop, either way, and she walks into it already thinking of tea sweets and—
“Where’s Jet?” Lee demands, and the bottom drops out of her stomach.
“What do you mean, ‘where’s Jet’?” she asks like an idiot.
“He didn’t come in today,” Lee says. He looks frazzled and as stressed as she’s ever seen him, and the teashop is full to bursting behind him and bustling with activity. That Jin girl is in the corner, Smellerbee notices distractedly, but it’s really not the most relevant fact in her mind.
“He was supposed to be with Song,” she says. “They were looking for the Avatar’s bison.”
“Why?!” Lee says, and Smellerbee shrugs helplessly.
“I don’t know,” she says. “He thought it was a good idea, I guess. He really didn’t come in at all?”
“No,” Lee says, looking restless and upset. Smellerbee’s uneasy too. Jet wouldn’t just skip seeing Lee. He never skips that, even when he probably should.
“Maybe Song held him up,” she says uncomfortably, looking around the shop like she could’ve just missed him or something. She definitely did not.
“Lee! Table four needs refills!” Pao calls from the back. Lee grits his teeth.
“I'll find him,” Smellerbee says, now really grateful not to have a job like Lee's.
"He should've been here hours ago," Lee says. Smellerbee is pretty sure that if it weren't for his uncle, he'd be walking out right now.
"I'll find him," she repeats firmly. Lee doesn't look like he believes her.
"Lee!" Pao snaps. Lee clenches the tea tray in his hands like it's a violent thing. Smellerbee really wonders how a guy like Lee ever restrains himself.
"I will," she says, and Lee tosses aside the tray and unties his apron.
"We will," he says grimly, and what, like she's going to argue?