Discovery. Let's start with COMFORT.

Alternatively titled, Bolin Left His Heart in Republic City.

(If anyone is curious, this fic is named after the song "They'll Soon Discover" by The Shins)

Well, here we go. Enjoy!

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In the beginning, Bolin thought the wild tangle of Republic City's streets were choking him. The two brothers spent their nights curled up close to each other against some unforgiving, blank faced building, as far from the danger as Mako could get them. The rough, damp bricks Bolin leaned against as he tried to sleep scraped his back through his tattered shirt like the dead fingers of Grief. Despite the small flame Mako would cup in his palm to keep them warm, the six year old felt an age-old ice settle deep inside his bones that he suspected not even the hottest firebending could melt.

They could hide from the Triads, the pickpockets, the thugs and the crazies, the vagabonds and even the other hollow children like them: if anyone approached, Mako always grabbed Bolin's hand and forced him to run until his lungs begged for a wisp of air and his tiny legs threatened to give away.

But they could not hide from Grief.

They had no food, no credibility, not a copper to their names.

They had no parents.

Mako and Bolin were alone in the world's biggest city.

Bolin did not understand. He did not understand where Mommy and Daddy were and why they did not have a home and why Mako now wore Daddy's scarf. He couldn't.

With time Mako learned the best streets where he could steal food, which alleyways allowed them to cut quickly across the city, which buildings two small children could sneak behind for some shelter. He even harnessed the strength of his flame, but Bolin knew his brother tormentingly remembered their parents every time the fire flickered on his fingertips (even though Mako used his fire to maintain life, and the bender that killed their parents used fire to snuff it out). By watching Mako, his strong, selfless, impossible older brother, Bolin learned how to be brave. He was brave for Mako and Mako was brave for him.

Years passed. As Bolin grew taller and tougher, as his hair darkened and muscles strengthened and grin widened and he began to really feel the earth's hums underneath his feet for the first time…he didn't notice when the city's messy streets stopped strangling him.

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And now, Bolin pounded once more against the doors of the Equalist van: his unyielding metal enclosure. His fists were bloody, his voice was hoarse from crying for help, and the cold air drifting in from the barred back window had licked his throat raw.

Bolin bowed his head. His half hearted, exhausted efforts were making no difference. The truth was that with each passing second the Satomobile was carrying him further from everything and everyone he had ever known.

Bolin cast his gaze over the far away lights of Republic City. A tear slid from one of his green eyes. His family was down there, still fighting Amon's masked army, and he hoped with all his heart that they were all right and better off than him.

And as the van carried him higher up the mountains, Bolin couldn't help thinking of the city, too. Republic City. The biggest, grandest metropolis in the entire world. Not only was he afraid for Korra and Mako and Asami, but he was afraid for his home. Who knew what this horrible, harrowing war would do to it?

After all this time, he'd never known the comfort it had given him.

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Note: I think I might have made up the word "tormentingly," but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. This is literally my first fic ever. I don't know if I'm doing this right. But thank you for reading. If there is anything you want me to write, please let me know.