Title: Sparks of Life
Word Count: 644
Summary: [Mako thinks of what he would give for those to be fireworks.]
-.-
Fic for be-the-peaf:
Prompt # 002:
Summer in Republic City meant, among other things, fireworks.
So this has nothing to do with literal fireworks or summer. I was going to write a nice happy fic for this, but then this one came and demanded to be written. Hope you enjoy it none-the-less.
-.-
-Sparks of Life-
-6/29/12-
-.-
Mako's arms fly into the air, fire rips from his fists and climbs into the sky. A spark, a flicker of life lights up the black ink of the sky before falling down to the dusty remains of the city. It is a signal; come get us, it says to the sky.
Come get us. Before it's too late, it doesn't.
He sends out another one, and another. More sparks, more fireworks, crackling, pitiful shots of life sent to the stars and Mako keeps sending them, keeps burning the sky with the spark. The fireworks. He can't even think, doesn't want to, because if he stops and looks down and sees what is there, sees the state of things and what she looks like – He can't. He can't think of that, won't, and he keeps firing his sparks, his fireworks into the night even though his arms are sore and tired and heavy from lifting them.
He doesn't hear Asami shouting his name, doesn't pay attention when he feels her wrap her arms around his body, hand pressed into his chest, pulling him down to earth. His body shakes as he resists, fighting against her grasp (he has to keep fighting, he has too. He won't stop, not when Korra's lying there, dying and giving up on life when there's still so much left in her. He won't stop fighting, won't stop and-)
"Enough, Mako! Enough!" Asami shouts, hot tears running down her face, staining his jacket and she presses her face to his back, her arms wrapped around his tightly and the fire in his hands and in his heart still burns and he wants to shout at her, yell at her to let him go and-
"She's gone, Mako!"
-he thinks his heart has stopped.
"She's gone…" Asami says softly, still crying hot tears into his back as she pulls him down and Mako goes with her, slumping down in the earth and the rubble of the city. His arms fall to his sides, limp and weak. Dust flies into the air as he crashes down to earth and he can't seem to draw enough air to fill his lungs.
Suddenly the world is a torrent of noise around him that's both incredibly loud and silent and Mako can't tell which is worse. He can hear Bolin behind him; the muffled, muted cries as he sniffles and Mako turns around to meet his brother's large green eyes, welled up with tears and something inside him breaks. Mako takes in a quick sharp breath, drawing air into his lungs and something stings at his eyes that he thinks might be the dust or grief (but it can't be grief because he has no reason to grieve – no one's died, everyone's fine and alive and perfect-).
Then he looks down, and he can't seem to care anymore.
Korra lays there in the dirt and rubble of the city; her head nestled in Bolin's lap, arms resting on her stomach, burns and shrapnel imbedded in her leg and side, dried blood and sweat staining her skin; making her hair cling to her face and Mako thinks it looks so peaceful. Too peaceful, even for this world.
Mako looks at Korra, at her face that is too peaceful for this world (for this lifetime, for this day) and the tears come hot and fast down his cheeks. Asami tightens her grip around him as he shakes, sobs racking through his body.
Above the night sky is lit up with a spark, a flicker life and Mako looks up into it, tears staining his face and thinks of what he would give for those sparks to be fireworks, and not signals of the dead.
-Fin-