Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jet,

He looks just like you.

My first kiss, my first love, my first heartbreak.

Now, a bundle in the arms of someone who was once my enemy, lies a baby with tanned skin and a full head of brown hair. His eyes were created as an exact replica of yours. It is undeniably your son, Jet.

I wonder if you even thought of this possibility. Did you even wonder if this would happen or not? For someone who claims to never rely on instincts, you seem awfully reckless to me. Intimacy with someone you’d just met on a ferry, only to leave them right after? Zuko told me about why you left. Did you ever regret that? Did you ever stop to realize how likely this sort of thing was?

I’m always so angry and sad at the thought of you. I tried hating you, but every time I see him I can’t help but miss you. Or maybe it’s just me feeling so sorry for you. I can’t tell what’s worse.

Did you ever want children? I can’t imagine you wouldn’t, considering how many kids you brought up when you were still a kid yourself. A kid, forced to be a parent, an adult, long before you were even done being a kid.

I feel the same way sometimes.

Zuko and I both wished we knew you a bit better. We were with The Duke back in the Western Air Temples, where Zuko joined our side of things. The Duke misses you. He says you would have been a good dad. He says you tucked him in every night after reading him stories, and that you taught him how to fish, how to fight, and how to understand others (well, people who were outside of the Fire Nation). The Duke was the first person to feel him kick. Zuko offered to adopt him, but he didn’t know that Pipsqueak practically already had done so and now funds housing for them instead.

When he saw your son for the first time, he called him his little brother.

Zuko… I remember hating him. I remember him trying to hide his bump and his sickness. I remember him finding out that you were dead.

That was when we found out. Zuko, a child himself who was dealt with all the wrong cards in life, was now mourning the father of his child. He didn’t know we knew you, nor did we know he knew you, either. We especially didn’t know that out of all people, Zuko was carrying your child.

I hate to say it, but I was a bit jealous. Maybe I still am.

I know I rejected your invitation to move things further back in your forest, and I don’t regret that in the slightest. There’s no doubt that I do not want to have children at this age, especially when the war was still happening. Even so, I was almost furious with Zuko again all because he was carrying your child.

It’s not Zuko’s fault. Not only did he not know that I knew you, but it would also still be okay if he did. You’re not mine. I made that clear.

But I will still never feel life that belonged to you inside my being like Zuko did. And now, I watch that life with my own eyes.

He’s walking now, Jet.

In fact, he’s one of those kids who skipped crawling and started off with walking, instead. So eager to go somewhere… so eager to thrive.

He’s got your mischievous smile and is already wild and nature-loving. When he hears bird calls, his face lights up and almost tries to whistle back at them. Sometimes I think he’s your reincarnation, because of how alike the two of you are- even before he’s become his own person.

We’ve run into Smellerbee and Longshot, again. We had some issues at first that shouldn’t concern you, but, they still got to see your son. They both cried when they held him, as if it were just a little you. Aside from their rage-fueled hunger for justice, they’re both doing alright.

We’ve got two graves for you now. A grave in your forest where they reside again, and a memorial site in Ba Sing Se in front of Freedom Lake (formerly Lake Laogai) where there’s a statue of you. The parents of all of the freedom fighters are honored there, too, Jet. The Freedom Fighters plan to met there together every year- even the ones who left.

I can promise you this, your son will not be parentless. If anything were to happen to Zuko, Spirits forbid, then he has an abundance of people who would care for him in a heartbeat.

I hope you’re watching him from wherever you are. Maybe it’s true that your soul really has passed down to him. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just hoping that’s true so I know you can experience a relatively normal life with at least one parent… and to not experience war, or have to steal or hunt to eat, or have to watch over children until you’re much, much older.

And if you’re not really looking at me through his eyes, well, then I hope you’re resting peacefully.

With all my love and pain,

Katara