Rated: M

I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender

[Comments and reviews are highly appreciated].

Chapter 3: Betrayal

Katara…

Jolting his legs alive with a sudden burst of life, Sokka's face recedes away from the scruffy-haired teenager. Moving backwards away from the teen's blushed face and against the back wall, a new emotion takes over his being. Guilt settles in his chest where lust once occupied, no more than a minute prior. The watertribesman's face is plastered with a heavy film of shame—a film only seeming heavier and heavier the more blinks he takes at Jet.

"What the hell Jet!" Sokka's lips explode in a frenzy of rage and blame.

With no more than a small smirk splashed on his face, the woodsman remains seated on the timber boards that line the floor of the treehouse. Arms crossed, his eyes stay transfixed in the young boy's direction.

"Jet!" the water tribe boy shakily yells again, this time with a definite increase in aggression, "what is wrong with you!"

Unfolding his arms accompanied with a short playful sigh, he ascends from his crossed-leg position towards Sokka.

"What's wrong with me?" he repeats the warrior's words for an ironic explanation, "you should be asking that same question to yourself."

Blown back by the tides of Jet's response and his own shifting currents of emotions, Sokka's head can't help but feel seasick. Emotions he once thought were safely bottled up behind mental walls now seem to be seeping out of the darkness—unexpectedly, without warning.

The cramped room the two teens are occupying now seems two sizes too small, and a silence spreads over the two like an unspoken plague.

"What is that supposed to mean?" the watertribesman's words spill out soaked with obvious denial.

Inching closer and closer towards the emotionally distraught warrior, Jet's eyes meet the latter's icy blue ones—sending messages subconsciously.

"It means…" Jet whispers, moving his mouth just above Sokka's ear—amplifying his every word, "you, are not who you think you are; your heart and mind are on two separate pages Sokka."

With a confused look and an equally puzzled stare, the watertribesman stares down Jet in hopes of decoding his last statement. A still breeze whips through the lone window sending dangling leaves twirling off their branches and into the dark abyss below.

"What are you—" the warrior tries to respond.

"I think you better go find your sister, she left in quite a rush." Jet says in a tone heavily mixed with condescending words and hidden meanings.

Taken aback by the lack of understanding on the woodsman's part, Sokka's legs kick to life once more and help elevate him on his feet. Mimicking the warrior's movement, Jet also ascends but turns towards the makeshift cloth doorway and heads out into the amber torchlight. Leaving Sokka alone with only his thoughts, thoughts of events transpired that eat away at his mind.

You, are not who you think you are…

Shaking his throbbing head to combat the thoughts that bash against his skull, the flickering lantern lights mixed with the intermittent screams from children-esque voices make it hard to focus. The rope bridges that span the vast gaps of openness sway back and forth with each gust of autumn wind, making them deadly tests of dexterity for the emotional drunk.

Whipping his skull in each cardinal direction, his eyes try to make out any figure that has any resemblance to his friend, or his sister.

Katara…

Her name pops into his mind cramming any other thought out of the way; searing painful burns of sorrow and remorse deep into his frontal lobe. In the corners of his eyes, darting figures of children leap from rickety canopy to rickety tree house, vaulting over the darkness like daily routine. None of them resembles the Avatar.

Coming to a large structure in the middle of the community, loud voices radiate from the wooden walls—deafening laughter seeps out of the warped boards of timber. Pushing aside the cloth sheet that hangs in the doorway, candlelight invades Sokka's pupil as his eyes adjust to the sudden introduction of light. Sitting around a banquet table are children and young boys all chatting and chittering at once about the day events—comparing achievements and victories.

At the far end of the wooden table a young boy with loose fitting tangerine robes swirls air currents in his between his palms in a show of skill and imagery. Wind sails from out of the openness and swirls in a spinning ball of current which he sends gliding down the table into plates of food.

Looking up from his show, Aang spots Sokka wearily pacing through the hall.

"Sokka!" the young airbender yells at the top of his lungs, sending everyone's eyes floundering in every direction in search of the named figure.

Levitating from his cross-legged position, and spinning a loose air-filled sphere underneath him he jets down the table towards Sokka. Vaulting seconds before the table runs out, the Avatar takes a spot directly in front of the watertribesman's worried expression.

"Where've you been?" Aang asks as his joy-filled eyes meet his own, "where's Katara too?"

He forces himself back into reality, "uh…thought she was with you?"

"I haven't seen her, but I did see something else!" His words of excitement bounce of Sokka's chest and fall onto the floor. Aang reveals a bag of fluorescent little stones each glistening off each other. With a quick flick of his wrist he sends one sailing towards the floor in an explosion of spark and light.

"Neat huh?" he gives a toothy grin.

"Yeah uh-huh, it's great," Sokka rubs the back of his neck as his eyes yearn to be elsewhere—looking elsewhere.

Realizing his show of amusement doesn't faze his friend; he expels the air into openness and looks deeply at Sokka.

"Are you okay?" Aang meddles.

Thinking for a second before answering he looks left to see a girl wearing blue—more specifically—a girl known as his sister. A mixture of hope and fear intertwine on his face, a battle of wits has ensued.

"I'll…talk to you later Aang," Sokka motions with his hand towards the airbender's face, and the latter takes the hint to rejoin the rest of the kids.

Hightailing it towards the entrance he entered no more than five minutes ago, Sokka ventures back out into the forest air in search of his sister. Trying to convince his eyes to adapt more quickly to the lack of light ends in failure as his balance is thrown off and his heads fills with dizziness. Torchlight mixes with moonlight as the floorboards creek under the watertribesman's heavy fur boots.

Coming from a stray cabin on the far side of the platform a little boy emerges from behind the curtain, no older than eight years. His large helmet slips and slides on his head due to the sheer weight of it, covering his left eye in metal. With his right eye, he spots the disgruntled watertribesman and sluggish walks towards him.

"Hey…you're that funny looking guy from before, aren't you?" the little boy inquires while sniffling.

"Well aren't you the guy who was riding the zipline?" Sokka fires back almost in record time.

A short pauses emanates from the two, only quelled by the little boy's words.

"You saw that! Man that's awesome! You gotta try it sometime!" his face turns into something more sincere and childish as his eyes light up in adolescent glee.

Sokka's mouth forms a small grin, "you must be…Duke right?"

"Actually, it's 'The' Duke, Jet gave me that nickname when I ran into his gang," the small boy says while looking down at the floor.

Before Sokka has the chance to continue, The Duke interrupts him, "he said me you know, Jet, he rescued me,"

Guessing from the puzzled look on the watertribesman's face, the little boy takes the hint to explain his story in more depth.

"The Fire Nation raided my village…they weren't so mean at first…but then as the days went on they started rounding up person after person and taking them away," The Duke begins to say while periodically wiping his teary eyes, "before I knew it, my friends were gone, and the kids from my class were missing too. The one night I came home and my parents weren't there—I…"

Teardrops fall from both of the little boy's eyes as the sound of sobbing and heavy breathing echo into Sokka's ears. Every thought in his mind is compelling him to comfort The Duke, but for some reason—his legs refuse. Instead, all he can do is stand and listen to the little boy's story.

"I tried looking for them everywhere! I did, I swear, but everyone in my town said that Fire Nation soldiers came in the night and took them away…" pools of water start to form on the floorboards as more and more teardrops fall from The Duke's face, "I didn't know what else to do. So I ran away from my home and went into the woods, I didn't mind it at first but then I got really hungry."

The Duke pauses for a brief moment to take a short breath and wipe his runny nose.

"Then I bumped into Jet's gang, and I saw that they had all this good food—and I was so hungry…so I took some. He found me, and he took me in," he says hopefully, as if hinting to Jet's heroic personality, "he saved me Sokka."

With the last sentence of the little boy's story, Sokka's expression takes a turn around—and it shows. The Duke's face returns to its original goofy childish composure and his sniffles his nose for the last time.

"You really think Jet's a hero?" Sokka says as plainly as he can manage without hinting at his hidden hostility.

"I have to, he helped me when no one else would," he fixes his helmet and lifts his higher on his head only to have it fall back down within a few seconds.

The watertribesman's mind churns with several thoughts and ideas about what The Duke just said, with most of which being positive. "Speaking of help," Sokka starts off, "have you seen Jet—or my sister Katara—around anywhere?"

He scratches his left eyebrow before giving his answer, "yeah I did actually, she was hanging around the observation deck on the other side of the hideout."

Katara

With the sound of her name, and a brisk autumn breeze whipping through the trees, Sokka's mind make up the decision to find his sister and makes things right again.

"…but she did seem kind of upset when I saw her," The Duke says sympathetically, almost like a warning.

"I know…" the watertribesman says just low enough for The Duke not to hear, "thank anyways little guy." With that, Sokka lightly pats the little boy's helmet a couple times and turns around towards the south side of the hideout.

The moon hangs high in the sky, like a marble in a sea of blackness. Several clouds overlap the edges of the comic rock, but only take a smidgen of it's brightness away. Strong winds whip on the surface, pushing even the highest of the stray clouds away—revealing moonlight bright enough to make the sun envious. With each passing hut Sokka passes, the more children and teenagers he sees, hinting to the amount of damage the Fire Nation has caused to this little forest. Each sad face, each scarred childhood is another reminder of how much hatred the watertribesman has for the maniacal Fire Nation.

Making his way from the congested section of houses and storage rooms, he comes to a clearing spotted with a scarce amount of flickering torches. A tall tower stands on four equal stilts, high above the tallest trees, to ensure an unblocked view of the surrounding landscape.

"Wow…" Sokka's mouth opens almost by itself to express his amazement.

The top layers of leaves are painted with a shiny coat given by the full moon that lingers overhead, covering each in a unique shade. Sokka makes his way to the bottom rung of the ladder that leads to the top of the deck, trying his hardest to make his boots make the least amount of noise. Upon his success he listens closely for sister, or any sound of life, for that matter.

Upon close examination, the watertribesman hears the faint sobs of a young girl almost mixed in with the seductive, manipulative voice of an older boy.

Jet

"God dammit!" Sokka blurts out, but quickly covers his mouth in case any of the two heard his swear. Listening as best he can, the warrior tries to hear any piece of dialogue he can from the two.

From what little he could make out, he pieces together some phrase, "Sokka…fault…mistake…not my decision…I'm. Sorry."

Jet, you bastard—you're convincing Katara this was all my fault!

Overtaken with anger and frustration, Sokka throws caution to the autumn breeze and climbs up the ladder two rungs at a time. Stepping on the last rung and catapulting himself onto the wooden deck, his icy blue eyes make contact with the pair—lost in an embrace. The two are locked in a heated moment of lust, both unaware of the sudden entrance of the warrior.

Driven by impulse rather than logic, he clears his throat in an attempt to get at least one of their attention's. Katara breaks first followed by Jet, but only does glare down the warrior. Her eyes burn circles through Sokka's pupil, begging for vengeance and longing for closure. The next six words to escape her mouth forever leave an imprint in Sokka's mind.

"What the hell do you want?" is all she says before quickly looking back at Jet, whose face is plastered with pure cynical deviance.

A/N: I'm insanely sorry for the amount of time between this chapter and the last one-I've been insanely busy with school and other such business. Fan fiction had to take the backseat for a while, I'm deeply sorry guys! ;-;