SCARED OF THE DARK

Ever since he could remember, Mako had been scared of the dark.

It was always a little ironic to him that he, a firebender, would be scared of something he could so easily dispel. Just a flick of his wrist, a little effort on his part, and his demons and fears could be gone. But there was something about the dark that made him stop, made him unable to firebend, paralyzed him.

And in the nights after his parents were murdered, he found himself unable to sleep, unable to eat, unable to feel, because he had a young Bolin to take care of, and he was scared of the little things. Not finding enough to eat, not being murdered or assaulted, not being separated from Bolin. No, little Mako was scared of the dark, and he hated that he was scared of the dark, because it reminded him that he was so young, that he shouldn't have to be scared of anything more important, that he shouldn't have to deal with it. That he should have someone there, whose arms he could crawl into, who could soothe him and calm him and just be there, at least until the tears subside. But he didn't have anyone like that, not anymore. Instead, he found himself slipping into that role, holding Bolin as he cried, cried from the cold and the dark and the fear and the unfairness of it all.

And the night, when Mako lay awake, shaking from the fear of the dark, of the unknown. His surprise when he heard a little voice, coming from Bolin, lying next to him.

"Mako?"

He rolled to face him, cradled his cheek, tried to keep him warm with the fire in his belly. "Yeah, Bolin?"

There was an awful, gut-wrenching pause. The hesitation, as Bolin worked up the courage to say it.

"Mommy and Daddy aren't coming back, are they?"

It wasn't a question.

The awful guilt when Mako realized that all he felt was relief. Relief—that he wouldn't have to explain it to him. That Bolin's world had come crashing down, and that Mako wasn't the one to do it. That Bolin could no longer be shielded, be innocent—because more than anything, Mako was jealous of him. That Bolin was finally suffering the unfairness of the world, alongside his brother, who had been so strong and so tough, just to keep him shielded and innocent. That little sense of vindication and masochism—that now, Bolin understood what Mako had been suffering. The childish emotions you regret so much, that you hate yourself for, looking back.

He manages, "No, Bolin."

They aren't.

And Bolin began to cry, and it was all Mako could do to not break down, himself. For the dark was out there, laughing at them, smiling at them, inviting them into her deep underbelly. And Mako was terrified of her, terrified of what he didn't know.

Nights later, he and Bolin were lying in an alleyway in the outskirts of Republic City. Bolin was nestled up against Mako's side, like a baby bird. Mako knew that he was trying to fall asleep. He could tell from the way Bolin was twitching and rustling about, repositioning and readjusting his sleeping position, the way his eyebrows were furrowed.

With a hint of a smile, Mako said, "You know, Bolin, if you keep trying so hard to fall asleep, you never will."

Bolin's eyes snapped open. He gave a sheepish smile and a shrug. He said, "It's hard to fall asleep out here. I'm just scared of the dark." His voice grew quiet. "I wish I was like you, Mako." Mako looked down at him, his guts roiling of the way Bolin looked up to him. Bolin continued, looking down now, "You're not scared of anything."

If only you knew, little brother. Mako sighed and brushed his hands across Bolin's eyelids, murmuring, "Go to sleep now."

And Bolin tried. Goodness knows he tried. But he just kept twitching and rustling about, repositioning, readjusting, trying to be restful, but Mako felt his trembling and felt his fear, palpable and weighty in the air. Finally, after a long time of Mako staying awake, with the bags under his eyes, keeping watch, he wasn't surprised to hear Bolin's quiet voice say, "Mako?"

Mako suppressed a sigh. "Yeah, Bolin?"

"Can you make me some fire?"

Mako's breath caught in his throat. Excuses flew through his mind, rationalizations that ignored the fact of the matter. He wasn't a great firebender yet. He would never be as great as his dad was. The only thing he had left of him was the ratty scarf, wrapped around his neck, and the little firebending tricks he had showed him.

And then there was the problem of the dark.

"Mako?"

I can't.

And suddenly, it appeared that Bolin understood. Mako felt him curl up and could almost hear him hold back a sniffle. Bolin said with a smile, "It's okay, Mako. I'm not scared of the dark anymore." And his heart broke, just a little. Bolin said with a yawn, "I'm going to be just like you when I'm older."

He knew that Bolin was trying to be brave, that he was trying not to be a burden, that he was just eight years old, that Bolin should be allowed to be scared of the dark, even just for a time. That Mako no longer had that excuse—he had to grow up, had to be like Dad now, had to be strong.

But that dark. He just didn't know if he could muster it. For the dark was so frightening, the dark was all-knowing, the dark was vicious and mocking and mysterious. Because the dark was paralyzing. He just didn't know if he could do it.

You have to.

For Bolin.

With a gasp, the fire reared up from his belly and forced itself out of his palm. He cradled the flame in his hand, and suddenly the alley wasn't dark, was full of light and flickering shadows, was full of Bolin's face and Bolin's smile. Bolin turned over and pressed into him, his face in his scarf. Mako looked down at him, a sense of wonder washing over him, a smile growing on his face. He wrapped an arm around Bolin and drew him close, and watched over him until he fell fast asleep.

When Bolin began quietly snoring, Mako gently extricated himself from Bolin's tight embrace and stood. He had to find food, and there was no better time than the night, than the dark, when the street urchins were out and the food was plentiful in the trash bins. Mako ventured out of the dark alley, where Bolin was sleeping soundly, only stopping to check behind that Bolin could not be seen from the street. With a satisfied smirk and the fire glowing in his palm, Mako headed towards the heart of Republic City, feeling just a little bit better about the future.

He wouldn't be scared of the dark any longer.

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