Serenity
It's been two years. Two long years of rebuilding, remembering, reinventing, to get to where they are now. And though it was hard, he wouldn't give it up for anything. No; Raleigh wouldn't change a thing - because changing would mean having lost Mako.
The Breach still haunted them both. There were times when Mako would cry out in the darkest hours of the night, reliving the death of her family, and Raleigh could only hold her close, whispering reassurances in her ear. Some nights, Yancy's screams would ring in his ears, and Mako would wake to an empty bed as Raleigh beat the shit out of a punching bag.
There were reminders everywhere. They couldn't walk long without recognition, and the inevitable crowd that followed. There were individuals bringing trouble to their door, whether it was for Mako or for Raleigh. And there was the silence. Raleigh knew that Mako was struggling with it too, though she hid it better than he did.
But despite the troubles that persisted, there were moments of bliss, too. Waking in the morning with her in his arms, holding her hand as they bought groceries, kissing her under the setting sun. Moments like those, when the world was still and it was just the two of them, seemed to evaporate the remnants of trouble.
And though it was unlikely that their wounds would ever fully heal, they had each other. The memories of pain, soothed by the cool caress of Mako's hand on his cheek. Her loneliness, lulled by his embrace. The loss at the Breach, though still haunting them, kept distant as they savored each other. The scars would remain, but for now, for the future, the peace, the serenity, would be enough.