Authors Note: So another Angst ridden story, just a warning. I must really like killing off characters! I'm not sure if I'm pleased with it, but I'd really like some feedback, so reviews would be greatly appreciated! I think I'm going to posts some fluffy drabbles later this week; I'm not always this depressing. Just so y'all know.
Disclaimer- I do not own Legends of Korra. The only thing I own is the plot.
Not Now
Mako didn't think a body could bend like that without breaking in half, well not until he saw it happen.
Korra floats high in the sky of an equalist ridden Republic City, her eyes glowing an ugly blue that casts eerie shadows over her now bloodied and bruised face. Her calloused hands, yielding the power of thousands of previous Avatars, work to send walls of earth, and bursts of air towards the crowd of people that Amon had recently disappeared into. Although her usually expressive eyes show no sign of fear, Korra is truly terrified; fat, wet tears trail down her tanned cheeks, their paths illuminated by the bursts of fire that spew from her palms, and Mako is truly afraid. Not afraid of her, like he should be, like everyone else is. No, he's afraid for her, afraid she'll hurt herself, kill herself.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Lieutenant turn his Kali Stick on an explosive setting; before Mako has time to react, it is sent hurtling towards Korra's exposed torso. She is hit square in the chest, and her face contorts in rage and pain as she falls towards the concrete street. He flinches as her body strikes the ground violently; her spine curling as a silent scream of agony escapes her lips before she collapses limp and useless in the middle of the street.
Mako immediately turns from the dozen or so chi-blockers that he has been sparring with and runs to her body. He breathes out a quick sigh of relief when he sees that her eyes have returned to their normal cerulean, but his consolation is short lived as her face scrunches in anguish, and her eyes roll back into her head. Mako looks desperately at Bolin who is still brawling with a handful of equalists.
"Bro, get her out of here! I'll be fine. Just go!" Bolin yells breathlessly over the raging battle. Mako nods, leaning down carefully and scooping her into his arms, trying to ignore the blood that flows rapidly onto his fingers from a crack in her skull; he has to get her out of there now. The firebender pulls her close, looking around frantically for a way out of the maze of fighting citizens. He sees his opening and bolts, narrowly dodging an electrified bola as he swiftly makes his way to a door of the abandoned probending arena. He's almost at his destination when he finds himself surrounded on all sides by the enemy. He thinks quickly as he summons his inner fire and breathes out, fast and hot. Blue tinted fire spews from his mouth, burning his throat raw and leaving traces of soot on his tongue, but Mako ignores the pain, using his long neck to shield Korra's face from the consuming flames. He hears her whimper pathetically as he shifts his weight, and Mako whispers a quiet apology in her ear before charging through the pathway he has created into the empty arena. He flies through the door, depositing her hastily on a training mat and running back to lock the entryway with shaking fingers.
When he looks back, she is visibly shaking, her body twitching in angry, sporadic movements, low grunts of torture sneaking out of her clenched jaw. He kneels down next to her, clasping his hands tightly over her, willing away the pain, hoping that if he holds on hard enough, he will never have to let her go.
"Korra, honey," he whispers, trying to stay calm as he fights back tears, "You have to calm down," her hand tightens as another wave of pain crashes ruthlessly through her body and leaves her gasping for breathe. He holds her hand more firmly, intertwining their fingers and tracing patterns on her palm as he carefully moves her head to lie across his lap. He hums that lullaby his mother used to love; the one that always made him feel better when he came home with a scratch. Slowly, but surely, her breathing evens out and she comes too.
"Mako?" the young Avatar asks faintly, coughing up a mouthful of crimson liquid.
"It's okay; it's only me," he reassures, stroking her matted brown hair affectionately. "Listen Korra, this is all going to be alright. All you have to do is heal yourself, and you'll be as good as new," even as the words leave his mouth, he knows the suggestion is ridiculous. She can barely move her hand, let alone heal her whole battered body, but he has to try; he can't give up on her. She never gave up on him, even when he was a complete jerk to her, even when he rejected her, and even when he threatened to sever their friendship. She always stayed and tried to fix it.
"I can't," she coughs, more blood dripping down her chin. He gently wipes it away with his sleeve before taking off his scarf and pressing it as painlessly as possible onto her bloodied stomach.
"Yes, you can," he says firmly, like he truly believes she can, "You're the strongest person I know, all you have to-"
"Stop Mako," she whispers feebly, successfully cutting him off, despite the low volume of her voice, "I can't move," tears flow in a steady stream down her face, "And even if I could, it would take spirit water to heal this mess," she smiles bitterly, "Thank you, Mako. You and Bo were my first human friends."
"No Korra! Stop!" Mako yells, finally letting out the stinging tears that have been threatening him since her fall, "Stop acting like this is the end because it's not!"
"But it is," she whimpers, timid blue eyes meeting watery golden, a silent plea for understanding.
"No, it's not! You're –no we're- going to get through this!" he shouts desperately, knowing that he's holding onto false hope. Holding on because he's selfish because he cares about her and losing her is like losing his parents all over again. She was supposed to be his family now. "You can't leave us yet because you still haven't properly seen the city or surfed in Yue Bay in the summer because I still owe you for getting us into the championships and because I love you, Korra, and I don't want you to go just yet," his voice falters a little at the end, emotion dripping from his words.
He starts to stand up to fetch her a basin of water, but her hand tightens around his before he is on his feet. "Please, don't leave me," she pleads, "I don't want to be alone. I'm scared," he's mildly surprised by her childlike tone, but he understands the meaning of the words. She's not afraid of being alone; she's afraid of dying alone. Her voice sounds weaker than it did five minutes ago, "Please."
He settles down on the ground again, their fingers still intertwined and her head still resting on his legs. Faint sounds of fighting can still be heard outside, quieter than before, as her breathing begins to get shallower, more labored, like each breath is a chore.
"Tell Bolin that I'll miss him," she whispers with heavily lidded eyes; he shakes his head frantically not ready to accept this. He could never really accept it, not even if they both lived 100 years, but it's worse now. She still has a future, a life that she will never be allowed to live. "And you're still a jerk, but I love you too, Cool Guy." Her body convulses once more, and then her head lulls to the side, all her muscles going limp.
"Korra?" Mako says, panic filling his raspy voice as he gathers her up in his arms. There's a heavy knock on the wooden door of the arena, and he can faintly hear his brother's fatigued voice telling him to open the door, but Mako is frozen. He hears a thud and a loud grunt as Bolin uses brute strength to kick open the door.
Bolin walks in and sees Korra pulled close to Mako's chest, "Thank the spirits she's okay," the younger of the two brothers sighs, "Korra, sweetheart, you took a pretty bad fall back there; you scared the noodles out of us." Mako flinches, pulling Korra even further into him, if that's even possible, as a sob escapes his lips.
"Mako, what's wrong? Did they take your bending?" Bolin asks, leaning over to take his brother temperature with the back of his hand, like their mother used to do when they were sick. As he does so, his hand accidentally brushes against the Avatar's bare forearm, and for the first time he notices how cold she is. How quiet she has been. Where there was once booming laughter and whispered jokes, lay only silence, suffocating and nauseating.
"No" whispers Bolin as realization strikes him as hard as a pack of hungry wolfbats, "Mako? Mako, please say she's okay." Mako closes his eyes tighter before nuzzling his nose into her hair and letting it muffle the sound of his weeping.
Next to him, he hears Bolin collapse, holding hard onto Korra's exposed arm, his knuckles white from effort. Mako knows that right now, Bo wishes that it were him limp and lifeless on the floor; he knows because the same thoughts plague his mind, but Korra would never allow that. She would sacrifice her life before she let another person die for her.
The brothers don't know how long they lay there, tangled up in the sight and smell of Korra, but it is long enough that the fighting outside has stopped completely. He knows that Tenzin and the police force are probably out searching for them, but Mako can't quite seem to remember how his legs work. He can't will himself to be the one to announce her death because once he says it out loud, that makes it true; it makes it real. Finally, after several long minutes, or was it hours, Bolin stumbles away to find Tenzin, his sight blurred and his voice raspy.
Tenzin arrives shortly after, with Bolin trailing after him like a lost Armadillodog, a look of grief clouds the airbender's normally stoic features; she had come to be like a daughter to him. Tenzin leans down to take Korra's body away from him, but the young firebender flinches away and tightens his grip.
"Where are you taking her?" he asks protectively.
"It's alright son, I am taking her to Airtemple Island and then to the South Pole where she will be buried," Mako nods his understanding; he trusts Tenzin. Pulling Korra into him one last time, he places a ghost kiss on her forehead. He stands shakily, willing his legs not to give out on him as he places Korra's flimsy body into the Master's expectant arms. Letting go of her should have been a relief, like a weight off his shoulders, literally and figuratively, but instead, it just leaves him feeling empty and completely alone.
As Tenzin leaves, Korra in hand, it's all Mako can do not to break down again.
"Goodbye Korra," he whispers. His words are carried in the wind to Ba Sing Se, where an earth kingdom boy is born with shocking blue eyes.