Title: Strength
Rating: T
Pairings/Characters: Bolin-centric. Borra.
Notes: This isn't nearly as good as I had hoped, but eh. I just wanted to do a Bolin oneshot, so here you are. There's Borra at the end because I love Borra. And it's super long, so watch out.
He's three, and his mother is singing.
It's the first memory he has of her, and the one that he will try the hardest to hold onto as they years slip by, though it will become increasingly harder as time wears. His mother is beautiful— strong and sturdy and built like him, with thick, dark hair and warm green eyes. He squirms in her arms, craning his neck to look around at a room he's probably seen a thousand times, but it only makes her smile.
Bolin loves his mother. He's young, but he knows that much. He loves his father too, but his mother's is a different sort of love, one born by long silent walks in the park and quiet moments reading together by lamplight. Oddly enough, she's more like Mako than his father is; while Bolin inherited his mother's looks, Mako inherited her quiet, thoughtful nature.
"Leaves from the vine, falling so slow…" It's his favorite lullaby, and recognition of the tune stills him, his thumb popping into his mouth. She pulls him closer, continuing on with her song, so softly that he knows it's meant for only his ears. He snuggles against her, warm and content and lulled by the soft, sweet notes. Soon he's half asleep, and she takes it as her cue to get up and carry him to his crib, where she pulls the blankets over his shoulders and brush the persistent little curl of hair at the top of his forehead out of the way before planting a kiss on his nose.
"Goodnight, little soldier boy."
He's seven, and it's the first night of winter.
It's his first winter without his parents— their first winter without their parents. Because Mako is here too, thank spirits. Bolin, despite being so young, understands the danger Mako could've been in if he'd stuck around after that Firebender mugged their parents down. Bolin counts himself lucky to have his brother around, especially since he's so caring and protective and strong.
But Bolin can tell it's getting to be too much. Mako's only nine. Bolin knows he's still only a kid. But he counts on his big brother as a guardian. He knows he puts pressure on him. One kid out on the streets is bad enough, but a little brother to take care of on top of that… Bolin sometimes thought about running off, maybe then it'd be better for Mako, but he loves his brother too much. And he doesn't want to know what would happen to him if Mako wasn't there.
They're tucked under a newspaper stand, huddled together for warmth, and Bolin is on first watch. They never both sleep at the same time; he supposes it's probably not a good thing, but they've been robbed one too many times but other street kids to take it anymore. And it's especially bad on nights like this. Normally, they never would have been able to find a spot this ideal for battling the newly-fallen snow, but he guesses luck was on their side and leaves it at that. He wraps his arms around his knees, grimy hands hidden by makeshift mittens made out of socks, and tries not to shiver against the cold. (Lucky for him, his brother's Firebending makes for a natural heat source, so it's not too bad when he's leaning against his shoulder.)
The park around them is beautiful, there's no denying that. The snow is starting to accumulate, white mounds of the stuff popping up quickly. The whole place should be covered by tomorrow, which is a good thing for everyone else but a bad thing for street kids who don't have a heated home and warm blankets to go back to. But Bolin is sure they'll make it through. They're strong; Mako always tells him they are. They can survive a winter just like they survived the summer and fall.
He tries to stay awake, but it's hard; between the heat source of Mako on his right side and the fact that he's been up for almost twenty four hours already, it's hard not to let himself drift off. They had been looking for a suitable shelter all day, to no avail beyond this stand, and they'll have to leave here first thing in the morning to avoid the cops. It's quiet, and he has to shake himself awake after he drifts off a few times, shifting guiltily to try to keep himself alert.
He's in the middle of a drowsy spell when the noise rattles him. He snaps up a little blearily, green eyes searching the darkness. He reminds himself that it could be nothing— just the wind or a small animal— but that doesn't stop his heart from racing faster, imagining police or gangs or muggers like the ones that killed their parents…
Then he spots it, and immediately relaxes.
"Hey little guy." Bolin's voice is soft, so as not to wake Mako up, and a little hoarse. "Whatcha doin' out here?"
The fire ferret regards him warily. Bolin's seen fire ferrets before, and has always had a particular fondness for them; they're just so cute and cuddly. Once, Mako took him to a street circus, and he saw one of them perform acrobatic tricks. He wouldn't stop talking about it for days.
This ferret doesn't look right, however, as he limps closer and closer to the little boy. Bolin notices that it's limping, front paw curled up uselessly against its chest. "What happened to your paw?" Bolin asks, reaching out to the ferret to get a closer look, but all that does is cause the ferret to hiss and back up. Bolin immediately pulls back, going still for a few moments to let the ferret relax, glad the noise didn't wake Mako.
"Shh. It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm Bolin." Bolin knows the ferret can't understand him, but he might get the tone of his voice. "You're a tiny little guy, for being out here by yourself. I guess I'm tiny too though… But I'm not by myself, at least." The ferret peers at him and inches up a little, nearer to the boy, which is encouraging. Bolin stretches a hand out by centimeters to get closer to the animal. "That's it. Good. You look like you hurt your paw pretty bad there. Maybe I can fix it though. I've always been better at healing than Mako." He's actually lucky Mako hasn't woken up, but his older brother has always been a pretty deep sleeper.
The fire ferret finally advanced the last few inches, regarding Bolin's hand with some degree of scrutiny before snuggling up under it. Bolin beams and scratches the creature between the ears, which causes it to give a purr and hop closer, resting its head on Bolin's knee. Bo considers this to be a gesture of friendship, and very gently picks the ferret up, setting it on his lap.
"You're a good little ferret. Maybe I can keep you. You're tiny and easy to feed and walk around with, so it shouldn't be hard. We can fix your paw. You can be strong again." He's not sure, but he thinks the animal makes an approving noise, and he smiles, leaning his head against Mako's shoulder as the ferret curls up in his lap.
"You'll be strong and we'll be best friends. I know it."
He's thirteen, and he's half dead.
He can hardly keep his eyes open. He has the vague impression of being dragged, but it's nothing compared to the rest of the pain.
He's never felt pain like this in his life.
It's both numbing and horrible— numbing to any other pangs of the outside world, horrible because he can still feel it and it traps him and it feels like it's killing him. Scratch that, he's pretty sure it's killing him. He groans every now and then, too weak to even vocalize it. His legs are scraping across the ground, probably giving him cuts, and his arms are being practically pulled out of their sockets by Mako's grip.
In those minutes that feel like hours, he realizes how stupid he was. They had been instructed to stay out of it. But the gangs were going to kill someone! He couldn't just sit by and watch! He was used to gang wars, but he'd never seen any real violence before that night. And he'd been at the brunt of some of it before Mako had gotten him out of there.
Bolin can hear his brother's desperate pants as he pulls him to who-knows-where. "C'mon, Bo, just a little longer. I need you to stay with me, okay? I need you to be strong, you got that bro?" Somewhere in him, Bolin manages to think beyond the pain and feel sorry. Mako has lost so much. And Bolin is probably going to die from these injuries; they're far beyond Mako's capacity to heal, and the brothers don't have money for a doctor, nor can they go anywhere like that without being sent to the orphanage straight away after getting well. He feels guilt twisting in his stomach at the thought that Mako is going to be alone after this, and it's all his fault.
After what Bolin finds to be a century, Mako stops, panting. Bolin thinks he says something to him. He's not sure. Something gold is above him. His eyes are cracked open, and they can pick out a yellowy glow. But it's not like the sun. Bo ponders for a moment, unsure of what it could be, before he realizes Mako isn't with him; he can't hear his pants. He wants to cry out, call for him, but maybe it's better this way, that Mako left him here to die, that he's gotten out and is going to be safe…
"This him?"
He hears a voice, and then a tone that sounds like Mako's follow it, and manages to crack open his eyelids. There's a fuzzy shape over him now, vaguely in the shape of a man, and it comes closer until Bolin can make out a face, grizzled and gray with old age, but concern showing in his eyes.
"Boy, you gotta be strong for me, you hear that? You gotta get through this. For your brother here. Now I'm gonna pick you up and get you well. Just hold on."
Bolin barely nods before his eyes slip closed again.
He's fifteen, and he wants to be a Probender more than anything.
The sport has been around for years, and considering he's lived in the arena for two years now, he supposes he should have gotten into it a lot earlier. But now that he's reached the age of puberty the hype of the sport really sets in. He chatters about it to Mako across the dinner table, and takes every opportunity to sit in on the matches that take place.
It takes a lot of coaxing and sucking up, but, finally, he manages to convince Toza to teach him how to actually Probend.
Unfortunately, he isn't the best at it at first.
"Closer stance," Toza barks, arms crossed and voice as gruff and uncompromising as ever. "You don't have to have the wide range that you need in regular bending. You pick a target, you protect your center, you strike. Get it in your head, kid." Toza's not usually one to beat around the bush or sugarcoat— in fact, Bolin secretly wonders how he's not an Earthbender, the attitude is so stereotypical of the bending style— but now it's especially brutal. The young man grunts, throwing in another disk combo, eyebrows furrowed together in concentration.
Toza huffs. "You're still not getting it, kid. Your footwork is fine. You're digging in at the right moment. But you're not using enough power. You're a big guy. You're strong. So use that strength! You don't use it, you don't have any offense, and you're just a quick target for everyone else out on that floor."
Bolin finds his usually-controlled temper slipping. "I'm trying! But it's just not clicking!" he snaps back, features pulled down in an irritated scowl, hands still balled at his sides. He's been practicing for days, and he knows how to move on the floor, but obviously he's just not understanding how to strike. What's so hard about it? It's just Earthbending! He's been doing that since he was a kid! Why can he suddenly not do it now?
The old man seems to sense his frustration and sighs, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Look, little man. There's a thing about being out on that floor, a thing about being part of a Probending team. You gotta want it. You gotta want it more than you want anything else. You gotta eat and live and breathe it. And when you get out there, you gotta either win it or go down kicking and screaming. So while you're practicing, you need to use everything you have— fancy feet, quick dodges, strength, the whole shebang— or else you're toasted out there. You got it?"
Bolin takes the moment to pause. He considers for a beat. Two.
Then he grits his teeth, takes his stance, and strikes.
Earth disk meets net, and Toza grins. "That's what I'm talkin' about, kid."
Bolin's whoop can be heard down the hall.
He's seventeen, and he's kissing the Avatar.
He's not sure how it happened. She'd had a nightmare. He'd offered cuddling. That's as far as his memory will go at the moment, because, to be perfectly honest, he's way too caught up in kissing Korra— brash, headstrong, beautiful Korra who has rejected every advance he's made on her so far but initiated this— that he can't form rational sentences, even in his mind.
"Korra," he breathes against her neck, one arm wrapped around her and the other hand tangled in her hair. She just pulls him closer, her fingers running through his hair, and he peppers light kisses just under her ear, trying not to get too caught up in everything. She apparently has the opposite idea, and just pulls him up to her mouth again. He can't say he minds in the least, but… there's something wrong. An off feeling. And he doesn't want that, not right now. Or, at least, he doesn't want them to do this while that feeling is there.
Finally, he pulls back. "Korra," he says again, a little breathlessly, "what are you doing?"
Her face pulls into a pout, but there's something in her eyes, something she's hiding. "What does it look like?" she asks. It's not playful; there's a bitter undertone, and she won't meet his eyes. He frowns and reaches out for her, cupping her jaw with one of his hands. She's beautiful, he can't deny that. Her hair is tangled, there are rings under her eyes, and she's absolutely gorgeous.
"No. There's something up. Something more than just us kissing." His voice is soft, and he can't deny the fact that his heart rate goes up a few notches when he realizes that, yes, they were actually kissing like that a few moments ago. But he presses on. "And if we're going to be like this… I don't want it to be just for a distraction or something— or I just want to know if it is at least…" Because he can't deny, he'd do it for her. He'd be just a distraction, it'd be a temporary bliss, but he'd do it and gladly.
She turns away, rolling onto her back, and her eyes close, a crease forming between them, face set in an expression that Bolin hates. He hates that she's conflicted, hates that so much is happening to her that she can't control. He just wants her to be happy. "You're not just a distraction, Bo." Her voice is soft. "I just… I don't know. I'm sick of all this. I'm sick of everything going wrong. I didn't think this Avatar stuff would be so hard." She lets out a deep breath, and Bolin hears the cracks her voice makes, sees her hands trembling from where they're curled into fists. "I guess I was wrong. I'm sorry." She moves like she's about to get up, but he grabs her wrist, pulling her closer once again.
"Hey, Korra," he says softly, "don't apologize to me. I'm sorry you're having such a hard time. But you'll get through it." He sees her eyes flicker to his right and then back to him for a moment, unsure.
"How do you know?"
He smiles and pulls her down to him, shifting so her head's on his shoulder and one of his arms is around her waist. "Because you're the strongest person I know. You'll get through it." He kisses the top of her head. "And if you need anything, I'm always here."
He senses the tension go out of her, bit by bit, her body relaxing against his. He closes his eyes and drinks in the feeling, the sensation and warmth, and stores it in his mind with care, not wanting to forget this. They don't move or speak any more than that, but, just as he's about to fall into sleep, he thinks she whispers, "Thanks, Bo."
He's eighteen, and the world is breaking apart.
Everything is fire and wind and chaos. He hears screams, but can't identify their sources. He doesn't even know where Mako is. Pain is shooting through him from some point, he thinks it's his lower ribs, but he ignores it. He's used to blocking out the sting of hits from Probending, but this is a whole different game. He's dodging debris and he sees other people run by, away from where he's headed, where the damage is worst.
But she's there, and he has to get to her.
Bolin grunts as he manages to hoist himself up over a fallen piece of what looks like a roof. He doesn't even know where he is. They were in the Probending arena when it started. Equalists had attacked. Amon had shown up. And, of course, Korra, in her usual headstrong and stupid style, had gone and chased them. Here. To the middle of a now-bombed-out-looking street.
He can still see Amon advancing towards him, feel the cold gaze.
He remembers how things exploded, and how all he could see for a split second was her— beautiful, powerful, terrifying.
And her eyes. He remembers her eyes.
Dust is getting thicker here. He gets the sensation that the wind is blowing in circles, and it even pushes a big guy like himself to the side when he tries to move. But he grits his teeth and keeps going. He has to. For her.
He spots her a moment later. It's hard not to.
He can't deny she's beautiful. Even like this. Her hair whips around her face, and she's hovering a few inches off the ground. There's something raw and ancient in this power, and he has no doubt that she could destroy the whole city if she wanted to, and it wouldn't take any effort at all.
"Korra!"
At first, he's not sure if she's even in there, if she can even hear him, but her head turns and he knows that, even if it's not her, someone's in there to hear his cries. He crouches to the ground, the wind picking up and threatening to blow him over. "Korra, it's me! I'm okay! Mako's okay! They're gone! Stop!"
He thinks it's futile. If anything, the air almost seems to spin faster. He ducks and covers his head with his hands to keep from getting hit by flying parts of buildings and rocks.
The earth trembles, and he finds himself flying onto his back with a hard oof, then immediately covers his ears as a trembling boom pounds through his skull and makes his bones shake.
Then, everything is still.
Bolin waits a beat before getting up. One second. Two. Then he's scrambling onto his feet and stumbling over to the crater that wasn't there before, impressed into the street like a meteor hit there. He almost trips and falls on his face, his ribs twice as painful because of his last fall, but he can't stop, won't stop, because he sees her now.
He finds himself praying to every spirit he knows of that her limp body just means she's passed out.
Finally, he's in the hole with her, and he gingerly picks her body up, pulling her into his lap, and ignores the pain from his arms and thighs and ribs and everywhere because he has to know she's okay, has to, or else… He doesn't want to think about any alternative. "C'mon, Korra, wake up, you have to wake up." He's almost hysterical as he presses his fingers to her throat to find a pulse, a breath, anything.
He almost sobs when she lets out a groan, bright blue-green eyes blinking up at him.
"Korra!" He crushes her to his chest, but she cries out in pain and he quickly pulls back. "Shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You're okay. It's alright." He's breathless and almost giddy with relief, despite the fact that they're both half dead and in the middle of what looks like a war zone. She furrows her eyebrows a little.
"I… I just… You and Mako were captured… Amon was there…"
His face falls.
Hers follows a moment later, and he's horrified to see tears well up in her eyes. "No, Korra, don't cry, that wasn't your fault…" He pulls her to him as sobs break out of her chest.
"I'm sorry, Bolin. I'm so sorry." She buries her face in his shoulder, and he squeezes her, not caring about the pain in his arms or the fact that his ribs are screaming.
"Don't apologize, please." She doesn't answer, and he can't help but hate all of this— the Equalists, Amon, everything— for breaking down the strongest girl he knows to the point where she's sobbing in his arms.
The police and Mako find them like that a few minutes later, and Bolin shakes off medical attention for himself, despite the fact that he's obviously not at all well off, despite the fact that he's aching all over. But he braces himself and carries Korra to the airship, and doesn't even let go of her hand when they fix up her sprained ankle and cut arms.
He stays strong. For both of them.
Meh, not one of my better oneshots, but here you have it.