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atlararepairmonth · 3 months ago

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times bein' what they are

The summer after the fall of Ba Sing Se, Jin and Jet figure things out a little at a time.

Jet/Jin, rated G, 4K words. Warnings: none

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For @atlararepairmonth, week 5 - splitting the prompts chores & in sickness and in health

There's not much in the way of privacy at camp. Between the children underfoot and the adults hovering in the way adults do around teenagers, it's lucky if you can get time alone in any capacity. It's for this reason that, to some, the allotted half-hour for bathing in the river is something of a divine ritual; time to slow down, catch your breath, contemplate while you can.

Jin sits in the shallows, trousers rucked up past her knees but wet anyway, and scrubs her feet with a pumice rock. A bucket of soapy water sits beside her, and her comb and hair ties are bundled up in her clean clothes on the shore. The cool water tickles her feet as it runs quickly over, a welcome relief from the heat of the sun. Her bath is second-to-last, meaning it's usually just after sunset when she gets done.

When she's satisfied that the last of the mud is out from between her toes, she wades in deeper, careful not to slip on the smooth rock of the riverbed. From there, she ducks under the water, carding her fingers through her hair to make sure all of it gets thoroughly soaked.

The water runs down her neck, over her shoulder where the handprint-sized scar still aches as though bruised. She landed on that shoulder during a spar earlier, and it felt like burning all over again, though she doesn't think it showed. She scoops a handful of water over it, letting its coolness soothe the irritated skin; she'll treat it properly when she gets back to camp with the others.

Speaking of. Jet will be on his way before long. He needs the time probably more than anyone, after being up since before dawn patrolling, tallying supplies and delegating duties among the twenty-odd children, teens and adults living in their camp. She's still amazed how the adults listen to him, even though she knows and they know he's lived this life longer than any of them.

She doesn't know how he does it. Most days she's dead on her feet by noon, and she's worked every day of her life since ten years old. Jet just goes and then keeps going; if he's tired (which she's sure he has to be), he doesn't show it.

She finishes washing up, drags the comb through her wet hair and braids it all behind her back, changes into the clean clothes that are still warm from drying in the sun.

Jet emerges from the tree line as she's slipping her shoes on, his easy smile affixed on his face the moment he spots her. In the instant before that, there's a glimpse of that weariness she feels.

"Water still warm?" he jokes, hanging his swords on the limb of a tree. Jin laughs, like he doesn't make the same joke every night. That crooked smile fades into something more contemplative as Jet unbuckles his armor, dark eyes looking up at the starry sky.

"We got word of Fire Nation troops headed by, and we've got a group going out tomorrow morning for an ambush. They should skirt far enough around that camp will be safe, but be on guard," he says, looking back to her. She nods back without a word, grateful for the warning.

"I'll pass it along," she says, though she knows he'll have already informed half the camp.

He nods, and gets to work undressing. Her cue to leave. She follows the familiar concealed path back to camp, joining the others by the fire after she's stopped by the healing tent. There's quiet chatter that she joins in on, until it turns to discussion of the ambush tomorrow.

"It's too big a risk," one man says. "That kid doesn't know what he's doing. That party of troops will outnumber us three to one."

"Jet knows exactly what he's doing," Smellerbee snaps, breaking a stick and tossing both ends in the fire, where they crisp and crackle. "He's been fighting the Fire Nation for years. What have you been doing, Shan?"

Shan goes quiet. He lived in the city his whole life, same as Jin; he ran a smithing shop in the Middle Ring, making jewelry and ornaments for Upper Ring nobles. His family were rich in comparison to most of the people here, and more sheltered even than Jin.

"I trust Jet's judgement," says Yaling, an earthbender who escaped the city with her mother and sister, and no belongings but the clothes on their backs. She's a little younger than Jin; a little older than Smellerbee. "We're throwing everything we have at them. Being outnumbered won't matter."

"Won't it?" Jin asks.

"Firebenders need air to bend." Yaling picks up a flaming branch from the fire, demonstratively shoving it burning-side-down in the soil. "We have earthbenders and the element of surprise."

"Will that be enough? The soldiers aren't all benders."

"Then we shouldn't have to worry about them." Yaling sighs, rolling her eyes as if having to explain to a small child. "Leave the worrying to the people who are actually going."

Jin recoils, hurt, and stands up. "Fine. Sounds like you have it all figured out."

The canvas walls of her tent don't block out the conversation entirely, but she gives up on paying attention as she prepares for bed. She doesn't look forward to morning, or the aftermath of the ambush, but who is she to argue? Just a sheltered, naïve city girl in over her head. Never mind that more of the Earth Kingdom becomes enemy territory every day and they're camped out right in the middle of it.

She pulls the covers over her head, and tries to fall asleep.

She doesn't wake with the sunrise like usual. Nobody comes in to wake her, in fact, until the sun is nearly centered in the sky, when Smellerbee shakes her awake roughly. The smell of smoke sends Jin back to the night she escaped, the burning of the Agrarian Zone — bloodless coup, the announcement in the square the day before had said, but farmers living on the Wall had attempted to block the passage of soldiers through their fields. She guessed, to the soldiers and Dai Li, that their blood didn't count.

"Get up, we need help in the med tent," Smellerbee says urgently. Her voice is hoarse and she reeks of smoke and burned flesh, though it doesn't seem like she is hurt. Jin pushes herself up, pulls a robe on over her nightclothes, and follows Smellerbee out.

Around the medical tent in the center of camp, the returned ambush team are gathered in an agitated mass. Fighters stand around, looking like they're unsure what to do with themselves. Jin spots Yaling's sister fussing over Yaling, who sports a bruised jaw and burnt hands.

She doesn't see Jet anywhere. At least, not until Smellerbee pulls her inside the tent.

Both of their pallet beds, and three spare bedrolls that have been dragged inside, are occupied. A young woman lays unconscious on one, the bone of her leg jutting through the skin. Jin looks away as Sulin straightens the limb to reset the bone.

When she turns her head, she's met with the sight of Jet, barely standing, with his weight supported on the edge of the medicine table. His hands are white-knuckled and covered in blood, and though he's expressionless, the tightness in his jaw gives away how much pain he's in.

Stupid boy, Jin thinks in exasperation and worry, but she doesn't get further with the thought before there's a roll of bandages and a bottle of alcohol in her hands, and she moves automatically to help Sulin and Smellerbee treat their injured comrades.

Then she's in front of Jet, with Smellerbee hissing in his ear to sit still while he tries to protest that he's fine, really — and Jin's mind goes blank as he shucks off his blood-soaked shirt.

The injury's not as bad as it looks at a first glance. Nothing she hasn't patched up before. What takes her aback is the jutting peaks of unevenly healed ribs, the spiderweb of scarring, the bruises that have to be new, layered on top of ones that look really old.

"Paint a picture. It'll last longer," he says through gritted teeth, managing a strained smile and a wink with his bruised eye. Jin frowns, shaking off her stupor to thread a clean needle.

Jet sits perfectly still while she cleans and stitches the cut, hands clenched in the bloody sheets, jaw clenched around a stalk of grass, eyes unmoving from her as she works. It would be unnerving if she weren't already used to his observance, and instead it helps keep her hands steady while she works.

"That's the last one," she says hoarsely when the last knot is tied off, a line of jagged stitching all the way up his chest like a kid's patchwork project. "Keep it bandaged, try not to get water or dirt or —"

"I know," he says calmly. "Not my first time. Remember?"

"I have to be sure," she says.

"I'm lucky to have someone so thorough looking after me." He smiles for real, and it's more disarming than usual, even though he's covered in soot and dirt and blood; it makes no sense, but Jin can't look away.

"It's nothing to do with luck. She's a damn good seamstress." Smellerbee drops a stack of clean clothes on the bed next to him. "Everyone's done," she says to Jin. "No fatalities this time."

Jin suppresses a sigh of relief. The last time, they had to bury two; it made her stomach turn watching the brother and sister disappear under the dirt.

"You should get changed and lay down," she says to Jet. "You can leave after you get some rest."

"Any chance I can get some help with dressing back up? Kind of hurts to move my arm." Jet shrugs his right shoulder, and the stitched skin pulls in a way that looks deeply unpleasant. Jin's blessed with a strong stomach, thankfully.

"Hold still," she sighs, picking up the roll of bandages from the top of the clothing. Jet braces himself while she wraps the bandages, again not taking his eyes off her. She ties it off where it'll be easy to reach if Jet has to remove it. She helps him shrug on a shirt, her hands shaking as relief crashes over her, now that she doesn't have to be on alert.

"Thanks," he says in an undertone. Smellerbee's swept off to put away supplies; Jin's alone with him in this corner of the med tent, kneeling by the bedroll.

"I'm glad you're alive," she says, squeezing his hand. Blood and dirt come off on her fingertips. It'll be a long night for baths, for everyone. He squeezes back with a slight smile.

"You, too."

The ambush took out nearly half the company of Fire Nation soldiers, Jin finds out later. Not the amount of damage they hoped for, but enough to hamper the effectiveness of the troops on whatever settlement they're headed for. Half an assault is still an assault, but maybe it'll give the Earth Kingdom a fighting chance.

A new family of refugees arrives three days after the attack, bringing news.

"The Earth King has deserted us," cries the woman — Ying, Jin thinks she said. She's clutching a baby in one arm, clinging to her husband with the other. "Nobody knows where he's gone."

"Lot of good he was doing before," Jet growls, when the family are out of earshot. He's not supposed to be on his feet yet — stooped, leaning on the wall for support — and he's clearly fighting to stay upright, but there's a menacing glow in his eyes. Jin's never seen that before, but the look Smellerbee and Longshot share tells her they have.

"What does it change?" Smellerbee asks. "He was never gonna help us, anyway."

Jet doesn't answer, turning away. Jin's stomach ties itself into an unpleasant knot.

Jin pulls the short straw for laundry, in what must be a rigged draw. It's while she's kneeling by the riverside, scrubbing ash and bloodstains out of the week's washing, that the foliage rustles in a familiar pattern of footsteps.

"Water still warm?" Jet drops to his knees beside her, laying down his walking stick. He sits up a little straighter now, his stitches not seeming to hurt him as much anymore. Jin puts down the shirt she's scrubbing to brush her hair out of her face.

"Warm enough." She looks up; the stars are shifting, the moon is waxing, and it will be midsummer soon. It's been over a month since Ba Sing Se fell; a month since Jet and the others found her, injured and alone. It doesn't seem like that much time has passed.

"We'll be getting rain soon," Jet remarks.

"Don't see any clouds," she points out.

"Don't have to. You can smell it. And look —" he points to the trees overhead, to a pale stripe of moonlight casting the greenery into sharp detail. "See the leaves? They're all showing their bellies. That means rain on its way."

Showing their bellies. Jin bites the inside of her cheek, bending her head over her work again. Jet talks about the trees the same way most people do animals. It's one of the things about him that she's very fond of, up there with his good humor and sometimes foolhardy bravery.

"Well, if it rains, I guess I'll owe you thanks for the warning," she says, pulling another shirt from the basket beside her. Jet smiles, his dark eyes sparkling.

"I'll hold you to that."

It doesn't just rain. The storm is torrential, heavy rain and wind beating at the sides of the shelters through the day and well into the night. Jin is uncomfortably reminded of the storms that deluged the Lower Ring when she was young, leveling houses and driving thousands onto the streets. The homes that weren't destroyed were riddled with mold from the damp. Her family had to pinch coins for a year to buy a new place in a dry district.

The canvas tents quickly give way under the assault, and the ramshackle constructions of wood further in the trees don't fare much better; while they remain standing, they're perpetually wet and uncomfortable. The earthbenders do their best to construct sturdy, durable shelter that won't melt into mud.

"Times like this I miss the forest," Jet grumbles, shuddering as a drop lands on his neck from the dripping roof tarp Jin's trying to sew shut. He's taken cooking duty, crouched and stirring the pot of poke greens over the fire while Bee and Longshot help with repairs on the other shelters. Jin ties off her line of stitches and sits down, shivering in her damp dress. There's still a trickle falling from the smoke vents, but there's not much they can do about that.

"You don't talk much about the forest," she says, warming her hands near the coals. "Tell me about it?"

He shrugs one shoulder, the one that always sits a little higher than the other one anyway. His spine healed crooked after whatever happened to him in Ba Sing Se — he doesn't talk about that, either. Jin's never asked, for that matter. Doesn't think she wants to know just yet.

"Not much to tell," he says, with a wistful tone that says otherwise. "We had a place. Fought the Fire Nation. Things got out of hand."

"That's not what I mean," she says, even though she aches to know more about their lives — from the little she's gathered, it was a hard life, but also pretty adventurous, and free, and from the way Bee talks sometimes — when Jet and Longshot aren't around — they had a real tight-knit group. It's hard to imagine what could break that up.

"Tell me about your home," she suggests. "Were your shelters up in the trees?"

Jet's eyes flick toward her momentarily, a proud smile sneaking across his face. "Yeah. Had a whole pulley system, bridges, lot of ways to get around up there."

She's heard of such structures, but never actually seen one, let alone multiple connected by bridges. Trees in the Lower Ring never got enough light to grow strong and sturdy enough. Probably weren't the right type, either — practicality meant fruit trees if you had the space.

"Were storms ever a problem?"

"Falling branches were the worst of it, but we kept a lookout for anything dangerous and usually got it trimmed back before it could cause trouble." He takes the greens off the fire, standing and pouring off the water into a bucket. "Maybe once things get settled, I'll teach you to build one. It's a good skill to have."

Jin feels a flush creep up her neck. Offers like that — offers of permanence, of belonging among this strange little family — still make her feel a little funny. Especially coming from Jet. "Thanks," she says. She looks up at the roof, sighing when water starts to trickle in at one of the corners. "Hopefully things calm down soon."

It's chilly, even with the fire, and she scooches closer to it, wishing she had longer sleeves, or a coat — she had a nice wool coat at home. Funny, the things you don't think to grab when you're running for your life.

"Here." Jet sits down beside her and pushes a steaming bowl into her hands. It's grain and greens, the same thing they've had every night for weeks. Bee's been experimenting with other plants, to varying success, but they'll have to find something soon. There's less and less edible poke this far into summer, and they've been supplementing the rice stores with dock seeds. Jin breathes in the steam, holding the bowl in her palms and letting it warm her.

"Thanks," she mutters, her chilled fingers fumbling with the chopsticks. Jet's shoulder brushes against hers.

"Don't mention it."

Jet watches Jin as she works on the roof, admiring her capability. He'd be up there helping her, if she hadn't scolded him into sitting down. He's popped enough stitches in his lifetime that he's used to it by now, but good luck convincing her of that.

Someone has to watch the food, which is a little consolation.

He pulls his eyes away from her as she finally finishes her work, sitting down across the fire from him. Her slender hands have gone pale from the cold, and he resists the urge to take them in his own to warm them. She's not one of his kids.

She's also not a recruit. The newcomers are valuable, but he's under no impression they'll stick around when they move camp. Jin's different — she's been with them nearly since they left Ba Sing Se, and every day he's glad he made the call to help her. He hopes she'll stay with them.

It's hard at this point to imagine life without her — and that might be the Dai Li conditioning leaving holes in his memory, or it might be the easy way she jokes with Longshot while they're gathering squirrel-quail eggs (how quickly she picked up his silent way of communication, because she really tried), or how she and Smellerbee trade gossip over their inventory while they straighten up the med tent (girl talk, Jin calls it, and Jet's not sure what separates it from regular talk, but far be it from him to split hairs). How she laughs at Jet's stupid joke even though it's the same one he makes every night, and it doesn't even sound like she's faking it.

He isn't sure what to do with that. He's not naïve — he knows the effect he can have, seen how it plays out. Used it to his advantage, on occasion. He's been careful with Jin, though, not to overstep — not to use whatever she might feel against her. Letting her find her own way. She's a Freedom Fighter through and through, but she's not his — something he's working on internalizing, not just with her but with the whole camp and his tenuous position as de facto leader.

It feels dangerous, then, to offer to teach her how to build in the trees. Not just an in-the-moment instruction, but an idea for a future where they do things like that, just for the sake of it. Together. Pre-meditated. It seems to strike her as odd, too, but maybe it's just the cold making her face flush like that.

He's making too much of it. He busies himself preparing her a bowl of food. She wraps her fingers around the bowl, tense shoulders relaxing as she breathes in the steam.

"Thanks," she breathes. Jet smiles and nudges her shoulder.

"Don't mention it."

It's late enough the fire has died down to embers, but the storm overhead keeps her awake. The others are all asleep, and she's learning more and more to distinguish their breathing; Smellerbee's whistling snores, Longshot's occasional huff as he rolls over, the juddery, uneven breaths Jet makes when he's halfway between asleep and waking. He's lying close enough Jin can make out the features of his face, even as dark as it is; the curve of his nose, the sharp angles of his jaw. Right now, his breathing is soft and steady.

Lightning flashes, and he buries his face in the crook of his arm with a groan, evidently not as fast asleep as she thought. It's a human reaction that's endearing in a different way than the strength he carries himself with, or the charm he employs on new recruits (that he's never tried on her — not that he has to, or should).

She isn't aware of falling asleep, but when she wakes, there's an extra blanket over her. Jet's kneeling nearby, building the fire back to life.

"Let me do that," she says, sitting up. He's still not supposed to strain his stitches too much. He looks startled.

"I didn't know you were awake."

"Hard to sleep in this storm." She takes the firewood off his hands, arranging it in the pit. "Awfully chilly. That enough clothes for you?"

Jet looks down. He's down to the threadbare blue shirt and pants he wears layered under his armor and clothes, the rest hung up to dry. It's a rare sight, him out of armor, even after she ordered him to keep it off and let his stitches heal properly.

"I'm fine."

"Not unless you're somehow immune to cold," she points out, pushing a blanket into his hands. He rolls his eyes, but takes it without complaint, throwing it around his shoulders.

She gets the fire built up and blazing, and soon the air inside the tent is steadily warming. Jin sits back down beside Jet.

"Let me look at your stitches, since you're up," she says. He pulls aside the collar of his shirt, letting it fall off his shoulder, and Jin turns him to the firelight to examine the edges of the wound once the bandages are off. It's healing nicely, all things considered. The skin, in spite of the damp air, looks a little dry and irritated.

"You never did tell me how you got this," she says, reaching for her bag and getting out a jar of salve.

"Oh, this? Soldier came at me with his swords. Barely got out of his way," Jet says with a rueful smile. Jin returns it, using her fingertips to apply the salve around the cut.

"And then you took him out, along with ten others in a single blow," she guesses. He laughs softly, then shakes his head.

"Actually, I almost froze," he says. When she looks up in surprise, he shrugs. "Last time someone came at me with a pair of swords...it's a good thing self-preservation kicked in, anyway. And look at me, barely a scratch."

Jin doesn't know all the details of what happened to him in Ba Sing Se, but she remembers that night. The tea shop. The Dai Li. She's had to fill in the blanks herself after that. She's not so sure how much Jet even knows.

"I don't know how you do it," she admits. "It seems impossible, to be that...brave."

Jet takes her arm in a gentle grip. His callused fingers are feather-light on the edge of her burn scar, just beneath the hem of her sleeve. "You had to be pretty damn brave to make it out of the city and survive that."

"All thanks to you," she says. He's the one who found her, convinced the others to give him a chance. He shakes his head.

"No, you had something in you before you even met me. Otherwise you wouldn't have the guts to threaten me with my own sword." He grins, something like pride flashing in his eyes. She returns the smile.

"I was terrified."

"I know. And you did it anyway." His hand slides down, taking hers. "That's all there is to it."

When the rain finally stops, it's replaced by burning sun and stifling humidity. Repairing shelters and taking stock of what supplies haven't been damaged takes first priority — but that night, Jin still revels in cleaning off all the mud and sweat that have accumulated in the past few days.

She's folding her muddy clothes to be washed in the morning, changed into the cleanest thing she could find, when Jet comes through the treeline. He's already left his armor somewhere, but he hangs his swords on the tree, same as always.

"Water still warm?" he asks, shedding his top tunic and hanging it over a branch. She keeps her eyes on her work, only peripherally seeing him unfasten his gloves and bracers.

"Just like always," she replies, the laugh finding its way out in the words. She gathers her clothes and heads back towards camp.

"Hey, Jin?"

She turns, surprised to be addressed. Jet's looking up at the sky.

"Weather looks clear for the night. What do you say we get to work building a treehouse in the morning?"

She feels butter-rabbitflies in her chest as she nods.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Jet looks at her, and smiles. "See you in the morning, then."

#atlararepairmonth2025 #jin #jet #Week 5 #Chores

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