A/N: All I can say is WOW. I said that I would post this on Sunday, or Monday at the latest. Today is Tuesday, so my apologies there. Soccer has really started to pick up, so I may be updating less frequently. Anyway, this is just another brooding Mako oneshot, with a little fluff thrown in. This takes place directly after "Out of the Past" and what I think happened. I know this has been done quite a bit, but I wanted to put my own spin on things. Also, I'll have a little more dialogue in this, and it will have a slight plot. Without further ado, enjoy! Reviews are appreciated!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Legend of Korra.
A Friend in the Night
Mako sighed heavily, resting his head against the wall behind him. He was always a man of action. He did things himself and took care of those closest to him. So he was not used to sitting idly by, watching someone else do the work he wished he could do himself. Take now, for instance. He sat stiffly in a simple wooden chair in one of the hospital rooms on Air Temple Island. The room was quite large but sparsely furnished. There was a cabinet against one wall and a nightstand beside the large, comfortable bed. Between his sitting position and the bed stretched a foldable screen, blocking his view of the bed's occupant. Korra. Mako growled in frustration, his gloved hands clenching his knees. Unable to sit still any longer, he pushed himself from the chair and began to pace, his amber eyes never leaving the screen. He hoped the healer's wouldn't notice him pacing like a caged animal. He was currently breaking their requirement of sitting in the chair if he wanted to stay in the room. The other requirement was the screen, for the healers had to strip Korra in order to heal injuries that weren't visible underneath her clothing.
It felt like ages ago that Mako had placed Korra on Oogi's saddle after finding her beaten and bruised atop Naga in the streets. On their way back to Air Temple Island, Korra had fallen unconscious. Mako, already worried due to her many long and shallow cuts, panicked when she wouldn't wake up, even when he shook her and shouted her name. The moment they had landed, he scooped Korra up into his arms and ran with her towards the healer's wing on the Island. Upon waking up five old and pajama clad healers, Mako had insisted staying with Korra in the room. They would have to bodily throw him from it to separate him from Korra. The healers had protested vehemently, saying that he would just get in the way, and that it was indecent. Finally, the chief healer, an old, wrinkled, and stooped woman, had consented, saying that he could stay as long as he sat in the chair and made no noise. He had grudgingly agreed. Once making sure that Korra had been taken care of, Tenzin had returned to his room with his family, ordering the healers to report to him about Korra's condition. Lin had ordered himself, Asami, and Bolin to get some sleep too, but he had refused. If he was going to stay with Korra, he was going to stay awake.
Now, Mako watched the screen with a worried intensity, still pacing back and forth on his side of the room. The healers had been working on Korra for hours now. He had no idea what time it was, but he guessed that it was late at night or early morning. He ran a hand across his tired eyes, still staring at the screen. He could hear the healers whispering quietly to one another. The only light in the room came from the faint blue glow that the healer's emitted. Through the screen, the soft blue light outlined Korra's silhouette perfectly. Mako felt a blush creeping up the back of his neck. He tried not to think of Korra naked behind that screen. Under normal circumstances, he would scold himself for thoughts like that, but for now he let them slide. He was more concerned for her well being. A few more hours passed. Mako still paced, partly to keep himself awake, and partly so he could have something to do. Soon he began to count the number of times he paced back and forth. On his 152nd turn around his side of the room, the blue glow died, leaving the room in complete darkness.
For a moment, Mako panicked. Did something happen? But then one of the healers pulled back a curtain, letting in a clear stream of moonlight. He stood, frozen, as the healers began to collect their things. One healer walked past him with water and rags stained with bright red blood. Korra's blood he realized. Once again, hot anger at Tarrlok boiled to the surface, and he had to clench his fists tightly in order not to set the room on fire. Noticing his distress, the chief healer shuffled over to him.
"How is she?" Mako asked quietly but hurriedly, as to not wake up Korra. His dark, bushy eyebrows were drawn together in worry, his amber eyes wide, the corners of his mouth pulled down.
The healer looked up him tiredly, giving him a small, reassuring smile. "She'll be fine," she said, her gravelly voice sounding vaguely like a cat's to Mako. "She is suffering from hypothermia, dehydration, and exhaustion. And not to mention all the cuts she had. We healed most of them, but the nastier ones will need a second healing session. She'll need a few days of bed rest, and some fluids and food put back into her, but otherwise, she'll be alright."
Mako sighed in relief, running a hand through his hair. Giving a rare smile to the healer, he bowed. "Thank you," he said. And he meant it with all his heart.
The healer just waved a knotted and wrinkled hand in his direction, dismissing his thanks. "No thanks needed, young man. I'll be back to check on her later for another healing session." And with that, the chief healer left, filing out of the room behind her counterparts.
Mako stood stock still for a moment, absorbing the silence of the room. Then he dashed across to his vacated chair, pulling it to Korra's now empty bedside. For a moment, he just stared at her. She was now in a healing induced sleep, her lips slightly parted as her chest rose and fell rhythmically. This reassured him greatly. She was alive, if not completely well. Her dark brown hair, a shade lighter than black, was out of its usual warrior wolf-tails, and instead was splayed freely on her pillow like a black halo. She had a bandage across the long cut that marred her face, as well as one on her shoulder and one on her side. Another blush crept up his neck when he noticed that she was just in her bindings. He couldn't help but admire her figure. She had a well muscled torso and arms, from years of training. Her legs, hidden underneath the sheets, were just as fit. She had shapely curves and a very voluptuous chest. Her skin was still slightly cold from lying out in the snow, and she was pale and drawn; thinner than he was used to seeing her. Yet, even in her current state, Mako thought she was beautiful.
Suddenly remembering a promise that he had made to himself earlier, Mako steeled himself for a moment. He closed his eyes. Then, with a feather light touch, ran his fingertips over her face, memorizing the feel and smoothness of her tan skin. His finger ghosted over her forehead, her thin eyebrows, her closed eyelids, and along her long, soft lashes. He then skimmed across the bridge of her nose, across her cheeks, and around her stubborn chin. His fingers lingered over her full lips, however. He could remember all the times those lips parted, revealing all her different smiles. Whether it was her cocky, lopsided grin, or the one that stretched from ear to ear when she laughed, Mako envisioned each time that he had been the recipient of Korra's various smiles. He even remembered her shy, small smile, which was given rarely, and only when she was letting herself be vulnerable. But those lips also held the ghost of a kiss. A kiss she shared with him. At the time, he had been angry about it because they had hurt Bo's feelings and he himself was dating Asami. But now he was done kidding himself, and he looked back upon that kiss with fondness, and he acknowledged the feelings that it had stirred within him.
Satisfied, Mako drew his hand back from her face to rest on his knee, but his eyes remained closed. He envisioned Korra's face, the silkiness of her hair, the smoothness of her skin, everything. Every blemish and every perfection came forth in his mind. She was brash and reckless and cocky and loud but she was also selfless and brave and loyal. He could hear the pealing sound of her laughter and the tone of her voice. He could see her bending the elements she loved. He could see her. When she had first gone missing, all of Mako's memories of her had slipped away from his mind, like water through a closed fist. He couldn't even recall her face. But now he was confident that he would never forget her again, if they happened to be separated. But Mako didn't plan on that happening ever again.
He sat back in the chair, admiring the moonlight as it streamed in, lighting stripes across her face. But soon he grabbed her hand. He needed the skin on skin contact, just to make sure she was still here and alive. He turned her hand over, lightly tracing the lines in her palm. He noticed that the sheets of her bed were polka-dotted with small, red splotches. Again, drops of her blood, he realized. He then looked down at himself, noticing small red stains on his jacket from when he had held her. He shivered at the thought of her blood being spilt, no matter how small the amount. Mako continued to trace the lines in her palm to calm himself down. He's not sure how long he sat there, but at some point he must have fallen asleep.
He awoke with a start to a scream cut off by a strangled sob. Korra shot up in bed, her bare torso and arms dripping cold sweat. Her hair was a mass of tangles, framing her face. Her turquoise eyes were wide in horror, dark purple circles beneath them. She began to pant heavily, her fingers twisting and clutching the sheets as if she was in pain.
"Korra?" Mako said quietly, not sure what to do. At some point he had stood up, but he wasn't sure when. At the sound of his voice, she turned towards him, her eyes still out of focus, the nightmare dancing behind the turquoise depths.
"Korra," he said again, firmer this time, moving to the side of the bed. "It's me, Mako." At last she focused on him, on his face.
"Mako?" she asked, and then her eyes filled with tears. Being the strong person she was, Korra only let one tear escape, the small drop leaving a track down her cheek. She then threw herself at Mako, needing reassurance. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, her forehead resting on his chest as she still panted slightly. Mako, taken by surprise, had his arms splayed awkwardly out. But being a man of action, he slowly encircled her in his arms. He tried not to be aware of her state of dress, or her body flush against his. He wished that Bolin was here, he was the brother that knew just what to say. Mako knew just what to do. But Korra needed both forms of comfort, so he had to try.
Clearing his throat he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Korra shook her head against his chest, shaking slightly. "No, it was just a nightmare. I'll be alright."
She pulled back from him to look at his face. "Thanks Mako…for being here for me. I know you'll always have my back."
Mako felt something tugging at his heart strings as she gave him a watery smile, still shaking from exhaustion and lack of sleep. She looked so innocent and sincere, so open and vulnerable, which was rare for Korra. Mako made sure to treasure the sight.
"No problem," he said with a slight smile, tucking a piece of her silky hair behind her ear, "go back to sleep."
Korra nodded, her eyelids already drooping closed. The moment her head hit the pillow, she was sound asleep. Mako sighed, running a hand through his spiky black hair. He leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. For once, he had done something right with Korra. After his many mess ups and miss steps with her, he was glad to know that she was finally able to let her guard down in front of him, to trust him fully. He himself had a problem with trusting others, so it was something they had in common. It was a step in the right direction for their friendship, if that's what it really was anymore, and he was glad of it. He still had a ways to go in fixing the mess he had gotten himself, Asami, and Korra mixed up in, but for now, he was content to watch Korra sleep.
End
A/N: So what did you all think? Dialogue is not my strong suit, but I thought that I'd challenge myself and try my hand at it. Practice makes perfect right? Also, I wanted to say thanks to those of you who find spelling/grammar mistakes I've made in my stories. Those aren't my strongest suits either! Again, thanks for the support and positive feedback I've been getting, I'm glad that you all have been enjoying my stories! Stay tuned because there's more to come!
