A/N: I participated in this year's Whumptober event over on tumblr. I'll be cross-posting three of my four submissions here over the next hour or so. To read the fourth (a part of an unpublished, unfinished WIP) you can find me on tumblr under the same name, flowerslut. Like always, these stories get published to tumblr and AO3 first.

I... don't typically enjoy writing crossover AUs. Not my cup of tea. But I had ATLA on the mind last month and couldn't resist. Enjoy this little snippet of a daydream I entertained a little while ago. (But don't expect any continuations, please.)

WARNING: This story contains talk of war crimes, genocide, imperialism, and sexual assault.


DOOMED

Lightning cracked across the sky again and Jasper glared out into the rain. There was a space between the roots of an overgrown tree and the western wall of the cave that sunk down low, and the water was slowly creeping further and further across the rock. If it kept up like this he'd have to move further inside.

Not only was he unwilling to sleep on a wet floor for another night, but he couldn't risk his hiding spot being illuminated by something as traitorous as the sky.

It was bad enough he'd been forced to light a fire to keep the girl alive.

At that thought he turned and glanced out of the corner of his eye confirming that yes, she was still there and yes, she was still unconscious.

But not dead. Thankfully.

He walked away from the entrance then. As far as hiding places went—as far as crappy caves that peppered the mountainside went—it was a fairly decent spot. The mouth of the cave was only a couple meters tall and barely a meter wide; well, if you didn't count the tree that ate up some space along the edge. It was only big enough for people (or animals, he reminded himself tensely) to crawl in and out, but only if they knew where to look.

Thankfully, Jasper had always been good at finding places to hide.

When he made his way back toward the fire his frown worsened. He hadn't gathered enough wood before nightfall and now there was no possible way it would continue burning through the night. The world was too wet but it was simply too cold to let the flames die down completely.

Of course, he could keep himself warm just fine. Now the problem he was faced with was curled beneath his cloak, shivering even in unconsciousness.

He stepped forward and quietly kneeled down, reaching forward to lift the material only slightly. Enough to see that she hadn't bled through the bandages around her head, nor had her lips turned blue.

Yet.

Jasper bit his tongue as he tried not to let his aggravation catch up to him. He made himself comfortable against the cave wall closest to the fire (and to the girl) and dug through his pack again.

Food was going to be his first priority come daybreak. The scant rations he'd managed to swipe before he'd disappeared from camp last week were beginning to dwindle, and absolutely would not be enough to sustain one person, let alone two.

His thought process came to an abrupt halt at that specific thought. It was awfully bold of him to assume she wouldn't flee the instant she awoke. His eyes flickered over to the girl, and with a long exhale he let his head fall back, closing his eyes as he fought back his exhaustion.

What the fuck are you doing? He scolded himself for his lack of practicality. It was as if he'd left the rational, level-headed man he'd always been back at base camp. The man who valued real, pragmatic solutions to his issues. The man who knew how much of a liability it was to be too in touch with your emotions.

But then he'd been deployed on this mission and seen the horrors of war firsthand; watched the blood spill from men's lips and the eyes of women go glassy with lifelessness. He'd begun to count the ribs of every orphaned street child they passed and when his fellow soldiers returned from the village over the hill in the early hours of the morning, laughing over their most recent lay, Jasper pretended not to notice as they washed the blood from their hands in the creek nearby.

Disillusionment was an understatement.

He opened his eyes as he sighed, lowering his head to watch the fire grow smaller and smaller as the minutes passed. Eventually, with his arm resting over his bent knee, he began to distract himself with some bending. He snapped a few flames into existence, letting them dance over the back of his knuckles, twirling between his fingers, even traveling a few feet across the damp rock and soil before they'd evaporate, sending him back into darkness.

It was something he'd done since he was a child. He didn't realize until he was older that the flames that had kept him entertained and occupied as a boy would end up being what he was expected to wield as a weapon to burn, maim, and kill.

He let a final flicker of fire dissolve where it danced across his palm and bit back another sigh.

A few seconds later, he wondered if perhaps he should check on the girl.

"Nice trick."

Or not…

Her voice was quiet but clear in the small cave, heavy and scratchy from sleep. Jasper struggled to see her face from where she was turned toward the cave wall, toward him, but she was at least still lying down.

The image of her, falling over the edge of the mountain, was sharp and burned into his memory. If he'd been standing any further from the cliffside, he wouldn't have moved in time to catch her ankle.

She also wouldn't have jumped anyways, he thought grimly, hating the terror that had fallen upon her expression when she realized the only thing between herself and an escape route was a Fire Nation soldier.

Then, he'd watched her eyes harden, resolve firm across her face as she made her choice.

Jasper watched slowly as the girl who almost killed herself to get away from him sat upright.

Her movements were jerky, and she let out a groan of discomfort as she moved. Jasper couldn't see her very clearly, but her silhouette at least was clear to him in the dark. With a hand on her side she let out a low hiss; apparently moving the way she had had forced another injury to be brought to their attention.

Before he could even move back toward her side, he hesitated. Remember, the voice in his head that never left him alone was taunting him now, she would have rather died than be around you.

"How do you feel?"

The girl snorted out a laugh that was quickly cut off with another hiss of pain and a groan. "Ah, okay. Laughing is bad. Turning is also bad." Instead of turning toward the mouth of the cave like she'd been previously trying to, she simply faced toward him, sitting herself up with her hands at her sides, her legs facing outward. "How do you think I feel?"

He blinked toward her a few times, but still couldn't see her face or the expression she wore. Either way, sarcasm was something he knew very, very well. "Bad?"

"You got that right."

He watched curiously as she lifted a hand, brushing her fingertips against the bandages wrapped around her head. Jasper remained quiet as she rested her hand against her head, waiting for her to speak again. He didn't want to frighten her, he didn't—

He swallowed a lump in his throat.

He didn't want to hurt anybody anymore.

"Why would you save me?" was the next words out of her mouth, formed slowly around a tired tongue. Skeptical, nervous, unsure.

Jasper thought to himself for a few seconds to be sure he wasn't going to mess this up. "I don't want to hurt people."

"Yet here you are, soldier."

He shook his head before realizing that she might not be able to see him. The fire behind her was almost embers now, and even her silhouette was becoming difficult to decipher in the low light.

"No," he spoke lowly, "I'm not a solider anymore."

"Anymore?"

"No, not anymore."

"Why are you still dressed like one?" Her reply was swift.

He bit his cheek. For safety, mainly. So that if he were caught and found out he could claim some cowardly lie: the natives had cornered him with their earthbending or he'd lost his way during one of the many storms that had ravaged the valley in the past several weeks.

Jasper didn't want to say that, so he changed the subject. "You've been out for a few hours."

The girl scoffed. "Yeah, no shit." She moved again, hissing as she pushed herself slowly onto her knees, trying to stand.

Jasper couldn't help it when he stood then—half was a habit (you never let someone get the higher ground on you around here, his commanding officer had advised) and half was to help (don't you dare forget the way you were raised, don't you dare forget to be kind, his sister had threatened)—and took an immediate step forward.

Before he could take a second step a thin splinter of rock shot up beneath him, stopping just underneath his chin. Jasper remained completely still, backing up just enough to see it's sharp edge. He'd originally passed her lack of shoes off as a sign of her status. After all, they were not in a wealthy part of the Earth Kingdom.

If she could do this, why hadn't she fought him yesterday?

"Sorry," he lifted his hands and took one more step back. The girl was bent at the waist, one arm wrapped around her midsection and the other shaking in front of her, keeping the rock in its form. Slowly, the earth retreated downward. "I know you're hurt."

"Shut up." She mumbled the words so softly Jasper almost didn't catch them between her hisses of pain.

"I just want to help."

"I don't believe you."

"Who do you think patched you up?"

She was quiet then, and slowly she straightened up fully. She was small, and even at her full height, Jasper felt uncomfortably large. It was one thing to be in such close quarters privately with a woman.

It was another thing to be a Fire Nation soldier towering over a young, tiny Earth Kingdom woman.

Was she one of the villagers who'd been hunted by the Fire Nation's most vile miscreants? Had she been hurt by his own men?

The voices of his squadron rang through his ears.

"The girl barely even thought twice," Alber—his commanding officer—was laughing as he recalled his tale to a couple of his fellow soldiers while they waited for their stew to cook, "the instant she saw the silver she was trailing after me. Big dumb eyes wide as saucers and I swear I don't know whose mouth was watering more by the time I got her in the room."

"Just like that? The fuck are these kids so desperate for?" Val scoffed as he stoked the fire.

"You don't have to go looking for whores around here V. You just need to flash some money and any of 'em will follow. I'm telling you next time you go bring your pouch and you'll be fucking some teenager before your hat can dry."

Another scoff. "Last thing I need is my own bastards running around from some Dirt Kingdom lays."

Jasper knew he should've walked away when Gunnarr started speaking, but for some reason he stayed planted where he was, sharpening his knives toward the edge of the campground, waiting for dinner.

"Fuck the young ones then," the nonchalance in his tone always left Jasper equal parts furious and sickened. "If they aren't bleeding yet then you won't knock them up. It's a fucking obvious fix."

He talked as if he were offering an alternative option for dinner, and not a way to rape the girls from the nearby village and 'get away with it'.

That was the last meal Jasper took with any of his fellow soldiers.

"Why?"

"I'm sorry?" He'd been so caught up in his thoughts he forgot what he said last.

"Why would you save me?"

Jasper tried to swallow the lump in his throat and failed; he coughed for a few seconds, clearing his throat before he spoke. His words were lame, but they were the truth.

"I don't want to fight anymore."

She hummed, as if trying to decide whether it was worth it to believe him or not. Jasper couldn't even bring himself to blame her if she didn't.

"Do you have any water?" She eventually asked.

Jasper was almost too eager to grab his canteen out of his bag. That was at least nice and full. He approached slowly and the difference in size between them was more stark than ever as he carefully passed it off to her.

It was only as he was within arms reach of her that she seemed to relax, uncapping the water and drinking deeply from its mouth.

"When the rain clears I can help you get back to the village."

She gasped when she finally stopped drinking—she'd probably downed half the bag—and he could just barely see her expression in the dark. The urge to bring a flame back into his hands so he could see her more clearly was an easy one to bat back down. He didn't want to take any chances.

He didn't want to frighten her.

"Why? I don't live here." She spoke as if it were obvious, and then Jasper felt as if he were missing something.

"My apologies, ma'am."

She laughed then. "You have no clue who I am, do you?"

He stopped and thought to himself for a moment, thinking back to her face on the cliff side. Her features were small; pointed angular, with thin eyebrows and lips. Her hair was cut short and had shone black even in yesterday's setting sun. He hasn't recognized her at all. Then, a chill fell over him. Perhaps she had recognized him. That would explain why she'd chosen to jump instead of fight.

Maybe she'd seen him fight in the raid they'd gone on last week—the day before he knew he had to leave, had to get out—and watched as he'd torn through the defenses of the town three mountains over. Jasper had spearheaded that mission, ordered by his superiors, and it had been their most successful battle in the area in decades.

Jasper had made himself sick on the walk back to camp, the blood crusted to his hands wearing away at his weak state of mind.

"I'm sorry." It seemed to be the only thing he was capable of saying, and the wisest thing to speak in reply.

To his shock, she laughed. "Well, that's good."

She offered him back his water but when he reached out for it she quickly seized his wrist.

In any other situation he would've retaliated swiftly, with lethal efficiency. But he only watched her. Even letting her turn his hand palm-up, as she dropped his water to the ground where it landed with a soft thump. Then, using her other hand, she spread his fingers wide.

"Let me see."

By rule of thumb Jasper never bent when someone's face was so close to him (not out of battle, at least) but he knew that obeying would be the easiest way to get passed whatever test she was putting him through.

Slowly, so that she had time to pull away if she felt so inclined, he let the fire come to life in his palm: a spark to a flicker to a warm, steady flame, filling up the center of his hand.

Jasper watched as it illuminated her face. The scrape across her right cheek had scabbed over finally, and even still, the bandage he'd wrapped around her forehead still looked pale. If she hadn't bled through it, then that meant her injuries weren't as bad as they'd looked when he'd dragged her back over the cliff after she'd smacked her head against the rocky cliff side.

Her dark eyes didn't even look toward him. Instead, her entire focus was on the fire in his hands.

With a slow steadiness, she cupped her own hands beneath his, as if supporting his own hand or keeping it in the air. Of course Jasper remained completely still, willing to let her rest her palms against the backside of his hand if it helped her find some… semblance of trust in him, he supposed.

After what was almost a minute, she lowered her hands just as slowly. Then, she leaned back. "Cool." She finally looked up at him, "I've never seen a fire bender bending up close before."

He did not extinguish the flame, but he did allow it to dim.

When she tried to lean forward and pick up the water canteen she'd dropped, she let out another hiss of pain. "Damnit."

"I've got it," he leaned down and grabbed it before she hurt herself further. But when he offered it back to her she just grabbed his wrist again.

"Can you help me sit down over there?" She winced as she nodded toward the mouth of the cave.

"The ground is wet."

"Sure is."

He blinked twice before deciding not to question her. Carefully he passed the flame to his right hand and offered his left arm to her. She had no issues with grabbing him closely, putting all her weight on him as they moved.

"I think I have some broken ribs," she hissed. "And my ankle is killing me."

Jasper felt a pang of guilt at that but quickly brushed it away as they slowly walked toward the stormy night outside. She may have been injured, but if he hadn't grabbed her she'd be dead.

"Right here is good."

"Ma'am, I can't sit you down in a puddle." It was bitingly cold outside. He'd just gotten her dried off with the fire by the time she'd woken.

"My name is Alice, and you absolutely can." She started to move on her own but when her expression turned pained Jasper bit back an expletive and wrapped his arm around her back, helping lower her slowly.

Ridiculous, foolish girl with a death wish. That's what she was.

He tried to release her and step back, but she grabbed his arm again. "Sit," she spoke quietly.

Jasper bit back a sigh as he sat himself down, and immediately he was intensely uncomfortable, his pants soaked through.

"You said you don't want to hurt people."

"Yes."

"You said you want to help people."

"Yes."

"You said you don't want to fight anymore."

"Not anymore."

She looked at him, her expression hard, her eyes calculating. "Do you swear not to hurt me?"

He nodded slowly, unease beginning to creep up his spine.

"And you promise to help me?"

He didn't even know what help she wanted from him, besides fresh water and warm fire, but he nodded again.

He didn't know what else he was doing. Running, for starters. Running from everything he'd ever trained for. Avoiding the greatness all of his old masters and teachers had told would await him as an adult. Escaping the war he'd yearned to fight in for as long as he could walk.

Jasper didn't want to hurt anyone anymore. If helping out this girl—Alice—was one thing he could do to right his wrongs, he'd do it, no matter what.

If it ended up getting him killed, at least he'd go down honorably.

"I promise, Alice."

It was when he spoke her name finally that she smiled at him, reaching over and grabbing his hand.

"Then, whatever you do, know that you're helping more than just me right now."

Jasper barely noticed when her left hand, the one that wasn't clinging to his, began to glow. But it was as clear as anything: her hand, pressed against her ribs, a light blue glow emanating out of her chest. When she moved her hand back down to the ground, he watched as she lifted it back up, water trailing after her, before she pressed it against her ribs once more.

It took him all of five seconds for everything to fall into place. The glow of her hand, the efficiency of her earth bending, the way she'd dove from the cliff with easy confidence.

As if she'd done it a thousand times before.

"Don't freak out." Her words were nearly silent, pleading with him as if she could feel the panic and turmoil swirling in his chest.

Of course the week after he ran from his fate, it twisted anew, creating an opposite—and far, far more dangerous—path for him to take.

Like every Fire Nation youth, he'd been trained to hunt and kill the missing Avatar, and he'd already nursed her halfway back to health.

How was this supposed to end well?

He hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud until she lifted her face up toward him, a sad smile gracing her dirtied, bloodied face. "It has to, Jasper."

He wouldn't realize until morning that he'd never given her his name. All he knew is that either he'd help her find her family or he would die trying.

And if that were the case, he thought, watching her stretch and yawn and smile up at him…

… then so be it.


A/N: If you would like to talk to be about this AU more, feel free to find me on tumblr at flowerslut. I won't be writing any more but I do have plenty of ideas about it and always love talking fic with y'all.

Anyways, in other news: this past May the darling love of my life (volturialice) and I started a new Twilight podcast!

If that sounds like something you'd be interested in checking out feel free to look us up. It's called Three Books One Plot. We post episode biweekly (or more frequently, sometimes) and we, along with a rotating guest of the week, take turns reading Twilight and it's two official retellings, Life and Death and Midnight Sun, all at once in a joke-filled, nostalgia-driven look at the craziest story to ever be published three times by the same author.

Check us out on any social media sites you frequent and you can stream us now on your favorite streaming services now.