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Chapter 17
Modern Military ATLA AU
Pairing Sokka/Zuko
Rating R for this chapter.
I do not own ATLA or make any money from it.
Needs to be read in order to make ANY sense whatsoever.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16
A/N Again, this is not political commentary just reinterpreting aspects of ATLA in a more realistic setting. Please consider leaving a comment. Praise, critique, anything. They help me greatly. Thanks to everyone who has done so in the past. The next chapter is lighter I swear!
Warnings for violence and racial slurs as well as swearing.
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It was hard. So goddamned hard. Trying to cling to a little piece of your own humanity to keep from going crazy when you were under fire, every inch of you covered in mud and sweat and don’t even think about what else with no way to get clean.
After the first week or two you kinda pushed it into the back of your mind. Showers meant water and water was a luxury when you were out in the field sometimes for days on end with just the pack on your back. You needed to get Zen about it or you lost a tiny bit more of what little mind you had left.
The sigh of resignation Sokka let out got shoved out of the way by a yawn, which he hastily covered. The past five weeks – five weeks- had all been the same; checking locations that the word on the street said held explosives. The tension had been unrelenting. No slip ups permitted, sir, no sir.
He tried to shake off his exhaustion, shooting a sideways glance at his squad to see if he’d been spotted. Any attempt at being subtle vanished with the eruption of a loud snort that escaped him at the sight of Zuko cutting off a yawn of his own. Blinking furiously, Zuko looked like he was keeping himself upright through pure determination. Even Jeter looked ragged as he trailed behind them, eyes bloodshot and grim, face caked with grit.
This day needed to be done. Soon.
The only thing that kept them going was the promise that the last of today’s business was truly their last for a little while, ending up at Camp Phoenix for a few weeks of some sorely needed downtime.
Looking up dark, heavy clouds hung in the sky waiting for them. Rain was not their friend. It came down in sheets, turning everything into a river of mud in seconds, slowing their progress down to nothing. In another month they got to look forward to ‘the winds of 120 days’. Sounded kinda pretty if you didn’t remember that the weather in this country tending to be more like a good hard kick in the balls. In Dari, they called it shomali, which meant ‘wind that fucks your shit up real good’.
That was more like it.
Weird looking building that was their target came into view, a bizarre mishmash of mud bricks and scavenged plywood completely atypical for the region. It wasn’t much to look at but their intel said it held some surprises. And not the good kind.
They settled into position easily after weeks of routine. Jeter had to be the first one in, of course. When asked why, he would answer with some feel-good nonsense about duty and protecting his fellow soldier, but that was complete bullshit. There was something else, a weird light in the man’s eye that Sokka prayed he imagined when he caught sight of it in their first real firefight. Satisfaction. Glee.
Bit by bit it degenerated over time. It was getting more commonplace to see Jeter do some absurdly risky shit as if he wanted to be a bullet magnet just so he could have a reason to fight back. When Sokka tried talking to the staff sergeant about it, the asshole didn’t notice or didn’t want to notice, calling Jeter ‘courageous’ and ‘heroic’ rather than the terms that seemed more representative like ‘psycho’ or ‘nutjob’.
Focus. There was work to be done.
Zuko bashed the door in with a well placed swing of their favorite little sledgehammer. They hit the building hard, running on instinct and what muscle memory their tired bodies could offer.
The whole place was goddamned joke, empty except for two pudgy guys with one piece of shit gun. Instead of being fully armed they were fully loaded, caught smoking it up in a back room covered in the stink of hashish. The job of watching the well baked pair fell to Longshot, who didn’t seem to care about it one way or the other.
This didn’t feel right at all. Their intel usually wasn’t this far off. Why leave guards if there was nothing to guard and totally inadequate guards at that? Sokka had Zuko follow him through the house one more time before it hit him. There was a missing room. Not like ‘ran away’ missing. More like ‘most houses don’t violate the laws of time and space’ missing. He mapped out the interior which narrowed it down quite a bit. Zuko gave him a hand literally, finding the hidden seam by feel.
This was all kinds of fucked up. While the rest of the house was flimsy, this construction was solid. Well made. Weathered to look as cheap as the rest of the place. Even knowing something was there, it was hard to make out. They stared at each other with trepidation, not sure what –or who- to expect inside their phantom room.
“Bunch of pussies!” Jeter shoved them aside, brandishing the abandoned sledgehammer. Splintering wood almost covered Zuko’s shout of “Are you out of your goddamned mind?”
No hail of bullets. At least that was something.
Showing no fear, Jeter strolled into his brand spanking new entryway before faltering, nearly dropping his Maglite as he got a good look inside. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Following behind a little more cautiously, Sokka could only echo the sentiment.
Ammonium nitrate, bag after bag after bag. Fertilizer that had a nasty habit of going boom. Illegal to import into the country since the previous year and enough here for hundreds of homemade bombs. Newly arrived if the lack of dust was any indication. Not like there was a weekly maid service for this kind of thing.
Well, fuck.
It took them hours to carefully strip the room bare, radioing in for help from the Afghani forces to help confiscate it all.
Sokka backed into the hallway, mind still reeling. Did they miss this anywhere else? No. They had been thorough and none of the other places they had searched looked anything like this weird gumbo of a building. He dragged open his canteen for a much needed sip of water and spotted Longshot carting out a crate of detonators. “Hey. Who’s taking care of Harold and Kumar?”
The man barely paused, his normally stoic expression growing unexpectedly cloudy. With a curt shake of the head, he was gone.
What the hell was that supposed to mean? God, he needed a Longshot dictionary. So some other sucker was taking care of the prisoners? Curiosity piqued, Sokka navigated his way back through the building’s deceptive layout. Hmph. He hadn’t seen Zuko in a while and there was time to kill. Nothing much left to do until backup arrived so if the guy got stuck babysitting then maybe he would like some compan…
“Turn around.”
Sokka froze midstride. Was that Jeter? The voice had come from the holding area in any case. Must be a mistake though. No way would the silver tongued bastard would have gotten stuck doing something menial like watching two useless prisoners.
There was a whimper of terror that ended with the dull thud of a punch.
“I said ‘turn around’ ya fuckin’ raghead!” The voice was soft and full of menace. Jeter. No mistake this time.
Shee-iiit.
Bringing his rifle to bear, Sokka tiptoed closer, hoping his stomach would stop doing little cartwheels. Sounded like somebody was going to need help. Just not quite sure which somebody that was supposed to be. Deep breath here, dumbass. Big wave coming in and you gotta dive through it or you’re gonna get swept off your feet.
Putting on his best game face, Sokka strolled in keeping all sweetness and light. “Hey Jeter! How’s it goin’?”
He didn’t add what he really wanted to say. Oh, and by the way, is it me or does it look like you’re about to shoot two unarmed men in the back?
“You shouldn’t be here Sokka.” He watched Jeter try to moisten his lips with a flash of nervous tongue. “You should walk away.”
Well.
Guess it’s exactly what it looks like.
Okay, okay. Keep him talking. “Walk away from what?”
“DON’T!” The man’s sudden fury echoed loudly off of bare walls. Jeter’s face shifted like a tide pool, turbulent to serene in the blink of an eye. “Just. Don’t. I know you’re not stupid.”
Dear god.
“C’mon, man.” It was hard for Sokka to keep the waver out of his voice. “These guys are harmless.”
“You call the shit in that room harmless?” It didn’t help that Jeter’s eyes never wavered from his targets even as his hands started shaking. “These fuckers want us dead. Don’t see why we shouldn’t take them out first.”
Sokka couldn’t restrain himself. “This house has been totally different from every other one we’ve hit since we came here! Something’s not right!” Appeal to reason. “For fuck’s sake, who leaves two idiots here with only one weapon?” Damn it. Take it easy, idiot. He tried to go soft and pleading, feeling like he was trying to corral an injured animal.
Which maybe he was. “We need these guys –alive- if we’re ever gonna get a chance to figure out what’s going on here.”
Jeter’s broken laugh was excruciating to hear. “I grew up in Thailand. Did I ever tell you that?”
The abrupt change of topic forced the question out of him before he could think to stop it. “N…no. What?”
“Until I was eight.” The man continued as if he hadn’t heard a thing. Which maybe he hadn’t. “Fucking separatists, bunch of savages for bombing a street fair. Just families and all these little kids running around. Including me.” Eyes shuttering closed, Jeter let the past suck him in. “My parents were dead before the first ambulance had even arrived.”
Oh.
“This won’t bring them back!” Fuck, that came out much louder than intended but at least it got Jeter looking at him. Sokka tried to rein himself back in. “Don’t do it. You’re better than this. You know you are.”
Please. Please be better than this.
“You bastard.” The muzzle of Jeter’s rifle slowly sank to the floor, his shoulder’s sagging. “How do you do that? How the fuck do you make me feel like a coward when I’m the one with the gun in my hand.”
Minutes passed. Was that it? Was it over?
Sokka hung his head; finally letting himself breathe. It didn’t last long as a hand wrapped around his wrist. His vision was filled with Jeter, tears streaming down the man’s face, wetness clearing a path through the layers of dirt on his cheeks.
“You’re a lucky son of a bitch, you know that right?” Jeter said flat, sounding so dead, so hollow. “Both you and him. To have somebody that loves you even in this hellhole. Keeping you sane.”
“What the hell’s going on?”
Goddamnit Zuko!
Sokka felt his heart come close to exploding as the ‘him’ in question magically appeared with quite possibly the absolute best and simultaneously worst timing in the universe. He flexed his hand, testing his wrist once Jeter released him.
“Nothing.” Jeter watched them coolly, words belied by his tear stained face. “Absolutely nothing is going on.”
He slung his rifle across his back and left as if that had been his plan all along.
no subject
Date: 2010-03-01 07:55 pm (UTC)TY again & always.
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Date: 2010-03-01 09:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-02 04:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-02 04:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-02 04:44 am (UTC)that was tense and such well-done tension. oh Sokka! what a wonderful voice of reason. and Jet, oh man. It's really interesting to see how you've integrated his character. yay for another installment!
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Date: 2010-03-02 04:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-02 06:19 am (UTC)Another awesome chapter!! ^^
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Date: 2010-03-02 09:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-02 11:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-03 12:59 am (UTC)I really like the way you handled Jet in this chapter. I mean, yeah, he's a creep, but he is a complex, multifaceted creep with human emotions.
no subject
Date: 2010-03-03 01:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-03 02:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-03 02:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-03 04:57 pm (UTC)Every time I think I've settled into your rhythem, you come out with a new chapter that flips me upside down and turns me inside out, and I love every second of it.
You know what I love more?
The fact that I can go back to chapter one and *literally* watch the characters grow and mature over time. *hearts at you*
Your Jet kicks butt, by the by. I rarely like fanfiction versions of that character, but with this one chapter you made me fall for yours.
Keep up the awesome work!
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Date: 2010-03-03 05:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-07 09:02 pm (UTC)I hope it doesn't turn too angst-y, but, how could it not with the circumstances, you know? I mean, two guys, at wits end, already going through turbulent emotional situations and with explosives thrown in; it is a recipe for disaster!
Still, I'm hooked! Great job, babe~
:D
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Date: 2010-03-07 09:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-11 09:50 am (UTC)And kajshdfk! Jeter knows! WE HAS CONFIRMATION! 'cause I mean, he's been...dropping hints, but like, you've kept it enough that it could've gone either way. This is...gonna be awkward. XD
I do feel that the ending is a bit rushed...or perhaps just that the pacing's different enough from the first part of this section that it's noticeable. Dunno.
I *do* like tho, that each chapter is kinda different from each other, in both time and place, as well as slightly different in style, depending on what's going on. It keeps it moving, and refreshing.
YOU'RE STILL AWESOME ::THUMBS UP::
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Date: 2010-03-11 01:27 pm (UTC)thanks so much
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Date: 2010-03-12 03:02 am (UTC)ohhhh. I see!
I think perhaps rushed language or perhaps choppier sentences could carry that off. Or change from past to present tense. ::ponder:: triiiicky. But worth doing! =)
thank you for posting this story. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2010-03-12 03:15 am (UTC)