Mako didn't remember much about the accident. It all happened so fast.
There had been a chase, of course, and then he remembered his bike sliding out from under him. He must have hit the ground hard, because everything burned. Everything hurt. The asphalt had torn away his skin like an over eager, high speed exfoliant.
There were flashes of memory then. Wailing sirens. Blurry faces hovering over him. Someone shouting, "He's alive." A trip in an ambulance. White walls. Healers leaning over him. Water like fire on his body. Trying to breathe. Blissful unconsciousness. And then all the pain starting over again. Over and over.
He wasn't allowed to die. He knew that. His wife would kill him. He had to hold on, give her the chance for good-bye if nothing else.
But Korra was in the South Pole. Even if someone had called the moment his body hit the pavement, he wasn't sure he could hold on that long. Their nearest spirit portal was still two days away.
So tired.
So much pain.
Couldn't it all just stop?
The healers must have feared the Avatar's wrath too, because they managed to string him along. Every time he woke, there was a burning weight on his chest. It was never very long before he was sent back into unconsciousness. Sometimes crashing. Sometimes spiraling. Sometimes simply blackness.
Finally, he woke and there she was, curled up in the chair next to him. Her fingers resting across the hand that wasn't covered in bandages.
Her head was propped on her fist, nodding as she dozed.
Even drooling, she was beautiful.
Mako tried to turn his hand over and capture hers. An edge of pain stopped him, but the tiny movement was enough to wake Korra, though.
She went from bleary to alert in just a second.
"Mako," she said, leaning towards him. "Hey, baby."
"Hey," he said. His voice sounded like a sandbender's.
Korra reached somewhere that he couldn't see. "Here."
A straw was pressed to his lips. Those at least did not hurt as the straw slipped between them and he sipped. The water was room temperature. And it was the best thing he'd ever tasted.
"Don't try to talk, okay?" Korra said. She switched hands so she could stroke her fingers through his hair.
His chest felt so heavy. Like someone was slowly stacking earthbending discs on it. Can't breathe, he tried to say. The words wouldn't come. Once again, his body betrayed him.
Korra's eyes went wide as she realized something was wrong.
"I need help in here," she called.
His vision faded out. When it came back, two nurses were grabbing Korra, pulling her away.
"The healers need room to work," one said.
"I am a healer," she said, fighting against the big-burly dudes. "Let me help." Her eyes, always so blue were starting to radiate their own light.
"Avatar Korra," one said.
"No, I need to tell him—he has—"
"Korra," he whispered. She froze, his vision dimmed, her glowing eyes the last things to fade.
When he came back, she was working with the healers.
"Stay with me, Mako," she said when she saw his eyes open. The roaring pain nearly drowned out her words. "Please. Please, stay with me." She kept talking, working. Most of her words washed over him, like her hands. He always knew which hands were hers. He felt himself fading.
He wanted to apologize.
"You are not dying on me," she said, grabbing his face and leaning close to his ear.
When he woke again, it was in a haze of painkillers. Korra was next to him, so much like before he thought maybe it had been a bad dream. There was…something. Something Korra had told him. Every time he was about to grasp it, his mind stuttered, too sluggish to chase the information for long. Whatever it was, he knew it was important enough to keep him hanging on.
Korra shift and stretched, eyes flicking to him.
"Hey there," she said when she saw he was awake. She bit her lip, offering a nervous smile. "How do you feel?"
"Okay."
"That's good," she said.
"Korra, what—" He had to stop to swallow a couple of times. "You said...What did you say? I can't—"
"Shh," she said, stroking her thumb across his bottom lip. It was rough against the dry, chapped surface. "Just that I love you. And I need you."
Korra got up, pushing aside his hospital gown, fingers skimming over his leg and hip. She made a face and there was the slosh of water. It ached, he realized just as blissful coolness washed over the pain.
"You really did a number on yourself," Korra said. Her voice was nearly neutral, maybe a little on the chipper side. "Broken hip, road rash everywhere, a concussion, broken ribs. We've been keeping you sedated for the last several days. It seemed to help."
"How long..."
"Six days since the accident," Korra said. "I've been here since the second day."
"But the South Pole…"
"I was already on my way home," Korra smiled at him, though her hands never faltered. Nothing wavered. So calm. So collected. "Good thing too," she said. "Looks like I can't leave you on your own for a few days, let alone the whole week."
"Payback," he joked. It wasn't too far from what he was really thinking: Better me than you. This wasn't the first close call. They both had experience being on Korra's side of the equation. Though, this was the first time since the incident with Zaheer that one of them was as close to death as Mako knew he had been.
"Good morning, Avatar Korra. Oh, look who's awake," the pleasant voice belonged to a healer. If there was such a thing as a voicebender, this man was one. He immediately put Mako at ease, even Korra's shoulders seemed to relax. "Goodness, we could use a touch like yours," he said after he'd done a quick exam. "The work on that hip is masterful. A break like that rarely heals so well. Detective, I think you will have to thank your wife for cutting your recovery time into a fraction of the norm."
"I'm just highly motivated," Korra said, putting the water back into the bowl on the table. "And I did have some spirit water on me."
"And how are you holding up, Avatar?"
She gave the healer a tight smile. "Fine, thank you."
"You'll let me know if you need anything? This can't be easy, what with—"
"I'm fine," she said again.
The healer left shortly after that.
"Korra, what aren't you telling me?"
He saw the mask slip for just a minute, showing all her strain and exhaustion and—and was that fear? Mako struggled to sit up and see his whole body.
"What's wrong. I'm not—"
Strong, firm hands forced him to lie back down. Korra's hands. Her face was stony in the way it always got when she was not to be argued with.
"You are fine," she said. "Or you're going to be. The skin is almost completely healed, your bones are knitting together well. You're going to perfectly fine."
"Then what—"
Korra shook her head. "It's nothing to do with you. We can talk about it later, like we always do."
Mako didn't have the strength to press her.
As the days went on, he began to measure how well he was doing by how often Korra was there when he woke. The drugs kept him in a haze. Sometimes he would remember that there was something that he should know, but never what it was.
Two and a half weeks from the accident, he finally managed to walk around with the aid of a cane. The healers told Korra he could go home. It was an exception, but she was a healer, so they felt comfortable leaving him in their care. They made it home late that night. Ignoring his protests, Korra had let Tenzin know that for the next week or so, she was not to be bothered unless the world was in danger of ending.
"You're the Avatar," he said.
"And I'm due for a vacation. This is as good a time as any to take it." When he still grumbled, she said, "Hey, I have the luxury of letting you be the most important thing right now. Take advantage of it. Might now happen again for a long time."
That night, he slept in his own bed for the first time in what felt like an age. They had to rearrange things. His right side, the side where Korra usually slept, was still sore and aching. Even though he said it wouldn't hurt, she insisted on sleeping on his left side. It would be several more healing sessions before he was back to normal.
It was the first night since the accident that he fell asleep without needing any painkillers. At first his dreams were vague. Swirls of smoke and fire that had the potential to morph into nightmares. They did not however. They gave way to Korra, standing over him, begging him to stay with her. Words he had missed melded with the ones he remembers.
"Stay with me. Mako, don't you dare leave me." Those blue eyes, boring into his, tethering him as she said, "You are not dying on me." In the dream, colors exploded as she leaned down, her hair brushing against his hot cheek as she whispered, "You're going to be a father." In the dream, he saw the words become a rope, tying him as tightly as those blue eyes. The rope yanked him up and up, into darkness.
He woke gasping her name.
It was dawn.
Two, possibly three parter, depending on how long I decide to make Korra's POV.