Sleeping on the train proved to be more challenging that sleeping normally.

Korra knew she shouldn't have been bothered by the motion, the ride was surprisingly smooth—less rocking than a boat. But Korra felt aware of the ground passing beneath her.

Just being back in the earth kingdom was enough to amp up the intensity of her nightmares.

Another reason she couldn't sleep. The usual reason.

Unable to just lie still in her cramped room, Korra got up and wandered down the hallway. Eventually, she found herself in the elaborate salon car, with its large windows and clusters of cushions and couches. The darkness felt oppressive, so Korra quickly lit one of the small lamps fixed to the wall. The soft glow reassured her.

Outside, she could see the tops of the hills cutting the myriad of stars in half. As they rounded a curve, the moon came into view. A thick, sleek crescent tonight. Deciding here was as good as any place, Korra took a seat at one of the window benches. Back resting against the wall, she closed her eyes and tried to relax. Maybe that would be easier here than in her small room.

She opened her eyes again. Took a few deep breaths. Assured herself that she was alone. Then she closed her eyes again. And opened them again. And closed them again. And, with a sigh, she opened them again.

No, it wasn't any better here than in her room. She still felt like she was suffocating every time her eyes closed.

"Hello? Someone there?"

The voice jolted through Korra, doubling her heartbeat, making her jump. Mostly because she hadn't expected anyone else to be up. Mostly.

"Hey Mako," she said, pressing her forehead against the cool glass.

Just Mako. She was still safe.

"Korra? What are you—couldn't sleep, huh?" He came up right beside her, bracing his shoulder against the opposite wall of the niche. He's thrown his undershirt and the pants she was pretty sure he'd been wearing earlier. No shoes, just his socks. For some reason, Korra found this funny, but she avoided laughing. He probably heard her creeping around and gotten up to inspect. After the attack this afternoon, it made sense for Mako to on edge.

"Did I wake you?"

"Nah."

Mako acted so at ease around her now, like he being around her didn't make him nervous anymore. Well, Korra supposed that three years of silence would be an effective means of getting over a break-up. He probably had some girl waiting for him back in Republic City. Korra swallowed, thinking about that shouldn't bother her. There was a wall between them now and Korra didn't know if she possessed the will to knock it down. She should just give up any residual claim she felt. Let Mako get on with his life, one free of the baggage she still carried.

"Too keyed up from earlier," he said. "You?"

Korra's pause probably gave away the lie, but she said, "Same here."

She kept her eyes focused on the stars, but she caught Mako's glance in her peripheral vision. Just a quickly, his gaze returned to the countryside. His hair fell disheveled over his forehead. Korra found that look unsettling. Mako looked—weird with his hair all wild.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

For half a minute she thought about it. Some of it, she'd told Asami. Not all of it though. She feared that her friends would think she wasn't ready if they knew how haunted she still felt. There in the moonlight, the idea of telling Mako everything tempted her.

No. This was Mako. It was in his nature to protect and shelter. That's why he made such a good bodyguard. Korra couldn't tell him. How could he understand? Her friends couldn't fight this for her. Words were empty. Words couldn't help her.

"I'm good," she said. It came out sharper than she meant. "But, um, thanks."

Mako nodded, pushing away from the window. His feet padded a short distance, scuffing to a stop somewhere behind her. Korra tensed. Would he come back? She really wasn't in the mood to fight with him.

"You know…" he said, his voice stretched tight. "Sometimes, I still have nightmares of when my parents died."

In her mind, she heard the impact of something heavy slamming against bricks.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Korra swung around. Mako had his head bent to the ground, hair flopping in his eyes. She needed no light to know he was blushing. Here stood the Mako she knew. Here also stood an eight-year-old boy who knew what fear was. Korra felt like an idiot. How could she have forgotten?

"Well," Mako said, the smallness of his voice made the room feel huge. "Good night."

"Wait," she said. "Do you mind hanging out, just a little bit longer?"

Mako looked up at her, his eyes dark in the lamplight. "Of course not, Korra."

Scooting back, Korra made room for Mako. He sat at the other end, one leg propped up on the seat. Giving her a smile, he turned to watch the dark hills roll by, just like Korra had been doing. Letting her attention go back to the moon, Korra sighed.

"I still see Zaheer sometimes when I fight," she said. Korra could feel the wall crumbling with every word. "I don't freeze anymore, but…" She made a helpless gesture. "And there are the nightmares. Every night. It's always…something…" There was more. It all pressed up inside her, but her voice choked, emotions trying to beat them back.

Mako's hand closed over hers on the windowsill.

"It's okay," he said, without looking at her. The lack of eye contact made everything feel easier, for both of them it seemed. "You don't have to talk about it."

Spreading her fingers, she laced them through Mako's.

"I want—I need to talk about it," she said. Korra took a breath. "Let me start from the beginning."

And Korra talked. The lamps on the wall burned low. Talking got easier with just the moon and stars for light. Not once did she look at Mako, but she stayed aware of his hand in hers. When she paused, it would squeeze hers, just once and then he would wait silently. Even when tears began to flow down her cheeks, Mako didn't move.

She couldn't remember feeling closer to him.

By the time she ran out of words, the sun reflected off the top of the hills.

Korra felt ten pounds lighter.

With her free hand, she scrubbed the tears tracks from her cheeks.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to keep you up all night."

Mako shrugged. "I don't mind." Sitting up, he opened his arms. She knew then, there was no one waiting for him in Republic City. Of course not. "C'mere."

Three years and thousands of miles stretched between them for a moment and then Korra stepped over the remains of her wall, sweeping everything clean as she went to his embrace. She no longer felt quite so alone. Arms around her, Mako leaned back again, one hand smoothing over her hair.

"You are still the strongest person I know, Korra," he said. "I can't even imagine…" He sighed. "You're amazing, I hope you know that."

"Thank you," she said. "For everything."

Mako nodded.

Korra yawned, feeling very heavy all of a sudden. Mako's chuckle rumbled pleasantly against her ear.

"Maybewe should both try to get some sleep," he said.

"Sleep?" Korra said. "Haven't you heard? I'm the Avatar, I don't have time for trivial things like sleep. I hire people to sleep for me."

He laughed out loud at that. Standing, he pulled Korra to her feet. "That sounds like something Wu would say."

Korra yawned, cutting off her rejoinder.

"Looks like your people are slacking."

"Stop it," Korra said, shoving his arm as they headed back to the sleeping compartments. Nobody else was up yet. At least, they saw no one between the salon and Korra's tiny room.

"Your room, Avatar Korra," Mako said, sketching a mock bow.

Korra giggled, covering her face with her free hand. Mako inhaled sharply, eyes burning down at her.

"I've missed your laugh," he said quietly.

Korra closed her eyes as he cupped her cheek. Softly, his lips brushed her forehead. Not what she expected, but somehow, she still didn't feel disappointed.

"Good night, Korra," he said.

He let go of her hand and headed down the hall to his own room. It was then she realized he'd been holding it the whole way there.


One shot.

After yesterdays episode, it struck that Korra was very mistaken about one thing: Mako would understand about a lot of what she was going through. I'm not knocking her letter to Asami, I totally understand why she would prefer to write about something like that to her best friend rather than her ex. Maybe if Zaheer had happened a little further after the break-up when they'd gotten comfortable being friends again, but they were still in a weird place.

However, I think of all her friends, Mako is the one who would understand a lot of the PTSD symptoms that Korra is struggling through as result of having seen his parents killed in front of him. Not to mention, he probably has his own nightmares about the showdown with Zaheer (nothing compared to Korra's, obs).

This idea fit right with my thoughts on that subject, so voila. Now, if you'll excuse I am very behind on my WIP. (Feel free to lash me with the wet noddles. I deserve it.)