Too long since he had real earth under his feet. Too long since he was allowed to move through the trees.

Jet hated them. The Earth Kingdom healers who had helped his body only to have them tear at his soul by trapping him in this hole of a prison. They didn't have the stomach to simply put him down, like a wounded dog.

He would have preferred it if they had.

Instead they handed him over, hoping the Fire Nation would finish their work for them.

Cowards.

Eighteen months. Eighteen months, three weeks and two days since he had last seen the Avatar. They had thought themselves humane by waiting until he could walk again before shipping him to the Fire Nation to rot. It had been six months since the Avatar had conquered the old Fire Lord. Once the guards found out, the news had spread through the prison population like wildfire.

He held out hope, willing the Avatar and his friends to come for him. He was still waiting.

He kept himself fit. He'd pick fights from time to time even now, sometimes with his guards, sometimes with other prisoners. He told himself it was to keep him ready for battle. The guards called him insane. He kept telling them they were wrong. But sometimes he wasn't so sure.

They kept telling him the war was over. The coming of this new Fire Lord had brought with it the dawn of a new day for everyone.

Except for him.

Initially he had clung to his hatred of the Fire Nation, wrapping it around himself like a blanket. It was something that had been with him for a long time, something familiar in this terrible place. He had been thrown in solitary frequently from the constant brawling. Trapped in this cage, he was given time to think.

This was a terrible thing when you couldn't trust your own memories.

Over time his hatred had eased. His own people had betrayed him just as surely as the Fire Nation had killed his family. He realized now that he couldn't trust anyone. Including himself.

He focused on practicing his training form for twin hook swords empty handed. There was no way they would trust him with even blunt utensils. He could feel the rough leather grips in his hands as he moved in the tiny confines of his cell.

The guards were unusually busy this morning. He tried to ignore them but caught whispers of conversation echoing on the pockmarked stone walls as they passed.

"Why is he coming here?!? Why in the name of Roku would he be coming here of all places? And requesting to see some crazy Earth Kingdom bastard?"

"Who knows? All I know is that the warden's going to have all our heads if anything goes wrong."

Something was up. He had no idea what they were talking about and he was not exactly on their good side to ask about it.

He pushed the questions to the back of his mind to allow him to finish the form. He gathered himself into the form's closing movement, took a deep breath, and swallowed the chi he had gathered during his practice to finish. The sword forms helped moved the energy within him, becoming externalized through the weapons he should have been holding.

Benders had everything handed to them on a platter, he thought bitterly. The chi moved through their bodies easily, at first even without conscious thought. Normal people had to work much harder to learn to manipulate that energy.

Jet was used to things not being easy.

The heavy door to his cell creaked open loudly. Hmm. It wasn't feeding time and he was still stuck in solitary for another week. Something was up.

A slightly rotund guard stood in the doorway, gritting his teeth. He had hated Jet ever since Jet had broken his hand three months ago.

"Stand back from the bars!" the fat man barked at him. He had a billy club drawn, ready to use it.

Compliant for curiosity's sake, Jet backed away from the metal bars separating the two of them. He threw himself at the thin mattress on his bunk and sprawled there casually, as if he were taking in the sunshine on a pleasant afternoon.

The fat man growled at this. "We're going to have to teach you some respect."

"Stand down, Jiro!" Jet furrowed his brow at the sound of the voice barking that command. The warden was paying him a surprise visit.

Things were getting more interesting.

The warden was a short middle aged man with a full beard and sideburns. Jet had many a punishment handed down by the man for transgressions both real and imagined. There was no love lost between either of them. The warden stood in front of the bars to Jet's cell, arms crossed, giving him a baleful glare.

"I'll say this only once, boy. The new Fire Lord is coming here tomorrow. This does not please me. He has specifically requested to see you. This pleases me even less. "

Jet's heart thudded in his chest, trying to process the significance of this news. His features, however, betrayed nothing. He picked at his teeth with a thumbnail, as if he had just had a fine roast duck for dinner.

"I don't know why he would want to see some insane Earth Kingdom peasant nor do I care. But let's get this straight. If you do anything to embarrass me or my men…" The warden paused as if collecting himself. A look of pure hate flashed across the man's face. "If anything untoward happens, you will not live long enough to regret it."

The warden spun on his heel and exited quickly. The fat guard fingered the club in his hand ominously then followed the warden, slamming the heavy metal door shut.

The new Fire Lord. What could he possibly want? All Jet knew of the man was that he had defeated his sister and took the throne from his deposed father, ending the war. He couldn't even think of the man's name. Taro? Zoki? He hadn't bothered to remember. Politics had left him behind. Could this be a chance for release, requested by the Avatar? Why then would the Fire Lord come himself?

He had been waiting eighteen months, three weeks and two days so far. He could wait one more to find out.

_____

The next morning the fat guard barged in without warning, nervousness radiating from every pore. "Get up, boy! Fire Lord Zuko is here to see you!"

Jet sat up on his bunk but made no other move to make himself presentable. The fat man gritted his teeth but did nothing as two Imperial guardsmen entered the room. Their masked faces swept the cell and apparently seemed satisfied, both stationing themselves on either side of the heavy door.

Jet swung his legs over the edge of his bunk, curiosity burning a hole in his stomach.

A hooded figure entered the room silently. Heavy silk robes, blood red, trimmed in fine gold filigree. So this was the Fire Lord. The shadows of the hood obscured his features. Seconds stretched in to minutes of silence as they studied each other.

"Leave us," came a gravel filled whisper. None of the guards responded.

Jet felt a small tickle in the back of his mind. That voice. It sounded familiar. He rose from his bed and moved closer to the metal bars of his tiny cell.

"Leave!" boomed the silk clad figure sharply.

The Imperial guardsmen bustled the fat man out of the room and disappeared themselves, door swinging shut behind them.

Jet saw the angular chin under the hood. Shaggy, unkempt hair obscured eyes from view. Odd for a Fire Lord, wasn't it?

"I am so sorry."

That voice again. Jet could hear the blood begin to rush past his ear drums in time with his heartbeat.

No. No, it can't be.

"I thought you were dead. We all thought you were dead."

The Fire Lord turned his face away from him as if in shame, hair falling to reveal *that scar*.

Impossible. Another mind trick. Lake Laogai all over again.

"I would have come sooner if I had known. I had ordered a list drawn up of all war prisoners so we could work on securing their release."

His forehead was beading up with sweat. He put his hands up to the bars to steady himself as the world seemed suddenly to move underneath his feet.

"It was only last week that I saw your name. I had to come myself to be sure."

You. It can't be you. I* have* gone insane.

He sank to his knees, staring at the red luxuriously robed hallucination before him.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" demanded the imaginary Fire Lord.

Jet closed his eyes and whispered, "You aren't real."

He heard the rustle of silk as his hallucination moved.

His eyes shot open in surprise as he felt hands reach between bars to grab his shirt, dragging him in as close as the bars allowed. He felt a warm, dry mouth cover his own. A wet tongue teased at his lips.

He stared wild eyed at Lee, no- Zuko, resisting for a moment. Heart pounding, he gave in, sucking on the tip of the tongue probing his mouth, relishing the feel of it.

After long minutes they finally broke apart, both panting for breath, foreheads pressed together.

Zuko still clutched at Jet's collar through the bars, keeping Jet close.

"I'm real."

_____

A/N Story inspired by a pic found on the insanely awesome Chinese language jet/zuko site .com/

that I rehosted here .

I have no ability to read or write in Chinese to contact the original artist. If you are the artist and wish me to take down the pic or this fic please let me know.

There is more of this story if people are interested.