(Fic) Basic - update modern military AU Chapter 23

[squirrellysemantics]

Basic
Modern military AU
Fandom: ATLA
I do not own ATLA and make no money from this.
Chapter 23
Pairing: Sokka/Zuko
R this chapter
Shit.  This was a tough one.  Feedback is greatly appreciated.

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 Part 17 Part 18Part 19 Part 20 Part 21  Part 22

Basic 23

 

Zuko stared after the Afghani boy in dazed astonishment.  Full of energy, Aang went from rock to rock with zero effort as he led the way through a particularly narrow pass. He would flit back and forth, checking on the adults before flitting up ahead of them again like a maternal hummingbird. 

 

An unusually fierce wind didn't faze the kid at all, air picking up sand that bit at exposed skin as it whistled through the canyon. It sounded miserable but in actuality it was the first lucky break since the fire fight.  Visibility had dropped down to about nil and that was good news for someone trying to stay hidden.   Not so good news for the people trying to find them on either side but any recovery ops would have the advantage of homing in on the emergency beacon in the soldiers’ radio.  Each minute the men could evade capture meant help was a little bit closer.

 

The calf injury hadn’t hampered their mobility as much as expected.  It had taken some experimentation but they'd managed a convoluted system with one man supporting the other.  Moving together may have looked like they were stumbling home drunk from a great night out but it worked, which was the best they could hope for at the moment.  

 

Stubborn and stoic, Sokka refused to acknowledge that his wound bothered him in any way. The tension in the line of his back told another story.   It was far too obvious he was hurting in every sigh, every hitch in the man’s breath. 

 

The desire to take the pain away made Zuko ache.

 

None of this would have happened if he’d done what he was supposed to do in the first place. It wasn’t just anyone who had been injured- it was Sokka! He should have done whatever it took to prevent that.  Except that he’d been too slow.  Too sloppy. That he’d sworn an oath to protect his fellow soldier only compounded the bitter sting of inadequacy. Maybe if he’d been more alert, moved faster, done something, anything-

 

But he hadn’t. 

 

And the thought burned.  Hot and fierce.

 

Zuko packed his doubts into a tight little ball and swallowed them down.  The questions and recriminations could come later.  If there was a later.  What mattered was focusing on the here and now, and right now he knew one thing.

 

He would not fail again.

 

It wasn’t much of a surprise that engaging Sokka in conversation was a great anesthetic for the man.  Anything to distract him from the pain.   Zuko tried to keep the conversation going no matter how god awful he was at it. 

 

So he talked.  Talked and talked and talked.  About the weather, his uncle, the food on post.  It didn't take him long to run out of idle chatter and that meant he was in trouble. What else could he do?  Tell jokes? 

 

Fuck no.  Sokka was in enough pain as it was.

 

There was one thing, though; a question that had been driving him insane for months. It begged to be asked but the potential answer consumed and worried him in equal measure.  Frequently, it would pop into his head unbidden when it was late at night and they were safely tucked into their crappy little cots on base.  Every once in a while he’d be too tired to fall asleep, so he’d lay there and listen to Sokka softly snoring nearby. 

 

God damn it, he needed to know.  Because there was a chance that he might never know the answer.

 

And that would be unbearable.

 

"So," Zuko started, trying to stay casual.  "Have you ever thought about what you wanted to do once we get out of here?  After the Army I mean."

 

“You kidding?”  Sokka let out an explosive puff of breath. "I think about it all the time.  The freedom to do what we want? Live however we want? I can’t fucking wait!”  He spat out some grit that had worked its way into his parched mouth.  "And just now I came up with a plan.  The first thing that happens, the very day our contract is up- you and me are going someplace very, very wet." 

 

The flood of joy at these words twisted into concern as Sokka bit off a gasp on taking a misstep.  Zuko shifted his grip around the other man's waist, trying to take more weight against his hip. “I can just carry you if you want.”

 

“Fuck no!  I used to love three legged races when I was little.”  With a grimace twisting his lips, Sokka hopped forward with determination. “Though it felt a lot more awesome when I was twelve.”

 

A snort escaped from Zuko as he pulled the other man’s arm tighter across the back of his shoulders.  “C’mon, this isn’t fun enough for you?”

 

“Nah, it’s better if we’re moving faster.”  The faint flash of humor that brightened Sokka’s face was a relief.  “Maybe if we had the right cadence-”

 

“Like a marching cadence?”

 

Sokka nodded with his whole body, sending vibrations through the man holding him upright. "Pretty much.  My sister and I figured out a system and we totally crushed all of the other kids.” The wisp of impish grin that appeared was wonderful to see.  “Wanna try it?”

 

How could he say no?

 

 “Sure.”

 

“All right.  Take a step with each syllable and repeat after me.  Mo-ther-fuck-er, mo-ther-fuck-er…”

 

Laughter made it impossible for Zuko to keep the pace.  “You are one crazy bastard, you know that?”

 

“Yup.” Blue eyes crinkled at the corners in mirth. “And you love it.”

 

Zuko turned solemn.  “I do.”

 

“Wadarega!”

 

They both looked up at Aang's warning.  Cocking his head, the boy listened for something as he motioned for them to stop.  The men froze with him; straining to hear as much as they could over the shriek of air rushing past them.  Once they heard it- it was unmistakable.

 

A deep rumble.  The creak and squeal of a heavy vehicle moving over rocky terrain. 

 

And it was getting closer.

 

“Anybody we know?” Zuko asked conversationally, struggling to stay optimistic.

 

Flicking a button on his radio, Sokka sent out another silent distress call just as he had been doing for hours.  If the approaching vehicle was at all friendly, there would be a response to the scrambled signal.  Seconds ticked by.   Both men held their breath, hoping there would be a response.

 

None came. 

 

Shouts were indistinct and hard to make out over the wind but that they could hear them at all meant that there were unknowns too close for anyone’s liking. 

 

The rumble peaked and went silent.  The shouting increased by an order of magnitude. Reinforcements perhaps.  And not the good kind.

 

Sokka couldn't hold back a soft “Fuck!" and Zuko could only agree with that assessment.

 

“Aang!”  The boy bounced back to them at Zuko’s hiss.  “We’ve have to hide!”

 

“Yes! Hide!” The heavily accented English was clear enough. “Hokay!”  Aang whipped around in place to get his bearings. Brightening, he waved for them to follow. “Here!  Here!”  He dashed around a bend in their path.

 

The two men hobbled after him, almost stepping on the skinny boy who was already on his belly at their feet, disappearing into a gash in the side of the mountain. After a moment, a shaggy brown head popped back out again and waved for them to follow.

 

Sinking to all fours, Sokka peered dubiously into the darkness.  What sunlight filtered through the crevice showed a deceptively large space.  The Afghani boy had more than enough room to move around in no matter what was on the other side of the crevice.  At least it looked like he did since all that could be seen was a pair of dirt smeared Spiderman sneakers pacing nervously back and forth.  Sokka looked over his shoulder.  “Go or no go?”

 

A string of Pashto from a gruff male voice was clearly audible over the wind.  It made the decision for them. 

 

They stripped the equipment from their backs to make the crawl easier, Sokka going first, Zuko passing their packs and following after.  Wriggling like a fish through the crack in the earth, Zuko was grateful the Army kept him skinny for the first time in his life.   Once through, he let Sokka look around so he could go through their gear.

 

“Holy shit!” 

 

Zuko was too busy still fishing through his pack to see what had deserved Sokka’s amazement.   He found the chem light he was searching for and brought it to bear after a snap and a shake.

“Holy shit!”  The exclamation came out of him totally involuntarily.

 

The space that Aang had found for them was huge, in no way obvious from where they had been standing on the outside.  There was little head room but it was wide and long.

 

And it wasn’t empty.

 

Crates.  Nondescript wooden crates stacked to the ceiling. They looked well built, with no signs of weathering or aging.  Twenty?  Thirty of them? 

 

Holding up what little light he had, Zuko stepped deeper into the cave.  It was impossible for the crates to fit through the narrow crack they had just crawled through.     He wasn’t very surprised to see another entrance to the cave with a tunnel stretching out into the darkness in either direction.  “A warehouse.  Hidden inside a mountain.” 

 

A tingle built along the back of his scalp.  

 

Hopping to one of the few crates within his reach, Sokka began examining the surface in detail. “This is fucked up.”  His fingers traced over a simple red cross emblazoned on the side. “I’m guessing a crazy secret helipad and armed guards is not standard protocol for stocking medical supplies.” 

 

Zuko remained silent as he dug into his pocket for the multi tool he had used on the camo netting.  Dismissing some of his options, he settled on the saw- long and flat and just the right thing to pull apart the crate that Sokka was poring over.  The wood creaked and moaned as he levered at the top in a few key spots.  With a ‘snap’ the top of the crate came away in his hands so he returned the multi tool to Sokka.  Together they gently set the wooden lid off to one side.  A quick glance at what was within the crate and suddenly Zuko could no longer breathe.

 

The packing material inside did little to disguise it.  Cylinders of dull black metal that looked like the granddaddy of all projectile weapons.  Artillery shells.  Carefully arranged in the crate like bottles of fine wine. 

 

Hands trembling, Zuko lifted one from its protective nest for closer scrutiny. It was cool to the touch and instantly familiar.  It was of Kai manufacture- no mistaking it.  He’d spent more than enough time studying the fragment Aang had given him to recognize identical material in a heartbeat.  Had it come from the looting of Kai’s warehouse in Pakistan?  It was a safe assumption but if the serial numbers on the underside were gone, there would be no way to tell for sure. 

 

Rational thought told him that the explosive was quite safe to handle without its fuse, but it was hard to keep cool when every instinct in his body was screaming at him to run. He forced himself to turn the shell over in his hands, showing the tell tale sign of the work of someone filing off any trace of identifying marks.

 

Sokka drew in a fractured breath.  “At least the person who working on these did a better job than they did on the fragment, yeah?”

 

“Aang!” Zuko snapped and instantly regretted it when he saw the boy jump damn near out of his own skin.  He took a deep breath and tried to take the bite out of his words.  “You’ve been here before.  Is this where you got the fragment?  The thing you gave me?”

 

The kid looked miserable, lips pursed in frustration, shaking his head as if something was desperately trying to get out. He burst into a furious flurry of Pashto, far too fast for either man to follow.  The wild gesticulations that accompanied the whirlwind of words offered only a little hope at breaching the language barrier.  Pointing at the crates, then back at the way they had come in, Aang’s tongue was tripping at full speed before he mimed a huge explosion.  He kept going, hands waving wildly as he continued through the explanation that only he could fully understand. 

 

Suddenly timid, he came as close as he dared to the shell in Zuko’s hands and pointed at it before pointing finally at Zuko.  Wringing his hands, his tirade came to an end.  “Bad men here.”  He looked back and forth between the two men hopefully, completely undaunted by the insane odds they faced as only a young boy could be. “Help, yes?” 

 

“Shit!”  Sokka’s curse got everyone’s attention this time.  The injured man hobbled to the chamber’s larger exit.  He glanced back to Zuko and made a cutting gesture with his hand.  The chem light disappeared up Zuko’s sleeve, throwing them all into darkness.

 

Or at least it should have.  There was a faint light within the tunnel where none had been before.

 

Zuko flinched as hands wrapped around his wrist.  The chem light dropped to the floor, suffusing them in its eerie green glow.

 

It was Sokka, thrusting their only radio into his hands. 

 

“What the hell are you doing?”

 

“You need to take the kid and go,” Sokka said brokenly.  “Run while you can.”

 

“No!”  Zuko shook his head as if it would take all his misery away.  “No fucking way!”

 

“Bad guys are crawling all over this fucking place!  You’ve got to get out of here. Now!”

 

“Aren’t you listening?”  It was hard for Zuko to keep his voice down through his anger.  “I. Am. Not. Leaving. You!”  

 

It was too much.  He pulled the other man in and kissed him.  It was difficult, with helmets and gear between them but they held onto each other, pouring every ounce of feeling into the kiss.  Good and bad.

 

Tenderness. Longing. Desperation. Fear.

 

The tears were already streaming down their faces as they broke apart. 

 

“I love you,” Zuko whispered.

 

 “I love you, too.”  Pulling away, Sokka wiped his nose like a child.  He turned on Aang and thrust the radio into the confused boy’s hands.  “Look, kid.  You have to take this.  Take this and get the fuck out of here!” 

 

Aang tried to force the radio away but Sokka wrapped the boy’s tiny fingers around it.  “Press the little button right here, okay?”

 

Zuko looked between them in confusion. “What are you doing?”

 

Blue eyes locked onto him.  “If he stays, whatever is going to happen to us happens to him.  If he runs now he’ll be our best chance of getting a signal out. Aang’s fast as fuck and knows this place better than anybody.”  His face struggled not to crumble.  “They wouldn’t let us keep the radio anyway.”

 

The artificial glow in the tunnel was growing increasingly distinct.

 

Turning to the now terrified boy, Zuko tried to comfort him with a hand on the shoulder.  “We need your help, Aang,” he said softly.  “Find help.  To take care of the bad men.”

 

The boy was nearly chewing through his lip as he nodded.  Stuffing the radio under his shirt, he was gone, disappearing through the crack in the mountain that had been hiding more than they could have possibly imagined.

 

“C’mon.”  With a quick look down the tunnel towards the source of the light, Zuko pulled Sokka’s arm over his shoulder and they began heading in the opposite direction.  There was a glimmer of hope as they managed to put some distance between themselves and the chamber until there was a shout.

 

“Wadarega! Wadarega yaa dee wulim!”

 

The two men halted and shared a soft sigh of inevitability. 

 

There was a flood of glare from several flashlights and there were suddenly many bodies crammed into a small space.  The two soldiers placed their hands on their heads, trying not to flinch as they were roughly searched.  They were turned this way and that as their equipment was stripped from them.  Armor, helmets, weapons. 

 

All gone. 

 

Their wrists were efficiently bound behind their backs and they were spun around.  Zuko tried to look beyond the bright light shining in his face but could see nothing.

 

“Oh, Zuko.”  There was a disappointed sigh from behind the glare. “Such a shame.”

 

The feminine voice took both soldiers by surprise.

 

A pale, raven haired young woman stepped into view.  She sauntered closer, looking out of place yet completely at ease with the armed men around her.

 

“No.”  Zuko’s denial was soft- more to himself, really- as his body fell into a strange sort of paralysis.

 

Sokka’s reaction was the complete opposite.  “You!” he screamed, body snapping in sudden fury.  Many hands grabbed hold as he struggled violently to get free.

 

Azula ignored the flailing man, looking almost sad as she turned her golden gaze on her brother.  “You never could stay out of trouble, could you?”

 

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Wadarega- stop

Wadarega! Wadarega yaa dee wulim!-  Stop! Stop or I will shoot!