Title: The Heat is Upon Them
Word Count: 1,714
Summary: [The Avatar is gone. Mako knows it. He lives life in the city, moving boxes and crates from one ship to the next. He comes home one day to receive an unexpected surprise. Makorra.]
-.-
- The Heat Upon Them-
- 6/02/12 –
-.-
The days are hot. The heat is upon them.
Mako sets the box he was carrying down for a moment to wipe his brow. Heat rains down from the sun, sending sweat down his neck and spine. There is noise all around him; shouts being called, orders being sent out, the water laps up against the wood of the docks and splashes hot mist into the air. Mako hears his name being echoed across the barrels of the massive ships he is between. He sighs and picks the box up and walks onto the hull of the ship.
A bell is rung, signaling the end of his day. Mako leaves the ship and heads back to the station where his belongings lie. He closes his small locker, and wraps a familiar red scarf around his neck. It is quickly damp with sweat.
He punches his card in and takes a Sato-Cab home.
The night will be cooler.
-.-
It takes the cab 30 minutes to arrive at his building. Mako exits the vehicle, hands the cabbie his fee and turns to face his home. He feels tired from the day; sleep will help him regain his strength.
He climbs up the ten floors to the top of the building. A cool breeze brushes across his face. Clothes, dishes, unpacked boxes are strewn about here and there. Bits and pieces of his new life in a small and compacted room.
The sun is setting in the giant window across the room, sinking beneath the great waters of the Yue Bay. The squeaking hinges of the window alert him and Mako looks the room cautiously.
He knows he didn't leave the window open.
A shuffling sound, footsteps across the old wood floor appear behind him.
Instinct tells him to turn around and fight off whoever is in the room with him. He turns sharply; ready to take action against the intruder.
He is met with bright blue eyes and darken skin.
He freezes.
She stands a few feet from the window, the sun shining in, glazing her brown hair with dull orange light. She's wearing the same jacket he used to wear when they first met; the green cloth looks faded and stale from the years, but he can remember clearly the night she first put it on to help save his brother. She looks the same, yet so different. Her face is what gives it away; tired and weary but that's to be expected with what she's been doing the last few years.
"Hey, Mako." She says; the words foreign-sounding in her throat. "How're you doing?"
"Korra-" he whispers. Then his better half catches his attention and he yells, quick and rushed. "What are you doing here?"
"Good to see you too," She says, crossing her arms. She looks out the window, out to the waters of the bay. "I won't be here long."
He crosses the room with four quick steps.
"Korra-" he begins, grabbing her shoulder in rough manner, ready to tell her off, tell her that it's dangerous for her to be here, but he stops when he catches her looking at his face. Her eyes showing only what he can name as empathy. Sorrow. Regret.
She stares at his face for the longest time. She wishes she could say he looks just that same as always; but he doesn't. Time has washed away with what youth he had once possessed. He's older now; his face is deeper, worn from work and the hot sun. The remains of a shadow linger on his face and she can see from the bags under his eyes that he hasn't gotten much sleep.
She's probably the cause of that.
It is a very long time before they say anything. They stare at each other, taking in their new-but-old forms and there is an uneasy tension in the air. How much time has passed since they were in the same room, let alone the same city or continent?
Too long, Mako thinks bitterly. Years.
"I heard what happened," she says, her voice breaking through the silence in a quiet whisper. "I'm sorry." He is taken aback, and turns away from her.
"It's not your fault." He says.
"It is," her voice raises, "If I had stopped Amon, if I hadn't left the city, then maybe-"
"You left Republic City to save us! All of us!" he shouts, turning to look at her fully, his emotions were running high. He was confused. Angry.
"You can't tell me you could have done better," he says, trying to control his voice, "You did all you could."
"But it wasn't enough." She crosses her arms, fingers curled around her as she speaks. "You lost your bending. Bolin too. And Asami…"
"Korra-"
"I tried to stop him, I really did." Her voice is beginning to weaken now; her resolve to not break down in front of him is failing.
"I tried to get stronger; stronger and stronger… so I could beat him." She almost yells. Hot water wells up in her eyes and she shuts them tight.
"But he was too much; he beat me." She finishes, lowering her head in shame. Mako stares at her and takes a seat on an unpacked box. The silence brought by their talk is faded out by the noise in the streets.
"I thought you died."
The words are out of his mouth before he can even think of saying them. She snaps her head at him in surprise. Confusion flashes through her eyes, begging. Pleading at him for more.
"Amon-" he sighs, and tries to find the words to say what needs to be said. "Amon told us you were dead. Told the whole world you were dead."
He speaks quietly and hangs his head to the ground. Korra approaches him, light careful steps across the floor, now realizing what her presence here has meant for him. She kneels next to him and places a hand on his arm. A comforting gesture he's glad for.
"Mako…"
His hands move to his head. They run across his face and through his dark brown hair. Then he brings them back to face and his eyes and he covers them from her. A choked sob racks through his body.
"I thought you were dead, Korra. We all did."
-.-
She doesn't know what to say. She stands up, looking away from him and his defeated form. It's too much. She never thought it would be like this.
"I have to go." She says heavily but the words are quick to leave her lips. "It's not safe for you if I'm here."
She can hear his feet touch the ground as he stands and she makes a dash for the door. She reaches out to grab the door handle but stops when she feels his hand around her wrist.
"Stay. Please." He says, his voice begging. "Just for one night."
For me. He doesn't need to say.
Needles run through her body like a cool wind. She rests her hand on the knob and sighs.
"Okay."
I can't lose you again. Not when I finally just got you back.
-.-
It's awkward.
Mako has a bed and a couch but he insists she comes in with him. Tells her it'll be safer. She is hesitant at first, but agrees. They strip down into light wear and slid in next to each other. Time creeps by slowly and Korra finds sleep hard to arrive tonight. It's been so long since either of them have had a comfort like this; the feeling of sleeping next to someone. Warmth and safety flow through her as she listens to the sound of his breath. The beating of his heart.
They've never done this before. Not when their group was together, anyway. Times were different then. Whether they were simple or not, Korra doesn't know. Too much has changed. Years have passed.
The world has changed. She let it happen.
The cool night air sweeps through the room from the open window. Korra nudges her way closer to Mako's turned back and she can feel the heat coming off him; his skin tan and darkened from the sun. She turns the other way and she can still feel the heat coming from him. It envelopes her. She shifts in the loose blankets and tries not to think that she has to leave tomorrow; that she'll have to leave him and all her friends again.
Her eyes sag and droop in the moonlight lite room.
She just wants to sleep.
-.-
Mako dreams; and one thousand worlds open before him.
In one world she never dies, never leaves. She strong enough, confident. They stand up and fight Amon together with all their friends and family beside them. In another, she leaves but it is only temporarily, like she had said all those years ago. She arrives on a small boat, wary and worse for wear but the threat is gone and she is alive. That's all that matters to him.
In the next, the cool waters of the bay wash against the docks and Mako watches helplessly as she fights a great distance away; out of his reach. His muscles tense and he can feel the heat coming from within his palms. He can bend here, he can fight. He lifts a foot to begin running but then the spot where she is erupts into a massive tower of smoke and flame. He stares out, at the space where she once stood and he lets out a howling scream. He feels hands holding him down, pulling him away from his nightmares. Pushing him back into them. Blackness covers and swallows him whole.
In the bed he turns and awakens, hot and sweating. The night air does nothing and the sheets wrap around his body like snakes.
The next morning Mako is greeted with the bright rays of the sun and hot air in his face. The birds chirp outside and he can hear the bustling sounds of the city going about the new day. He turns in the bed and feels around with his hand. It is cold and empty.
She is gone. Again.
:fin:
So? Good? Bad?
I'm going to stop writing and post this because I keep editing it and it just seems to get worse and worse as I do. I'm pretty sure this is one of the longest one-shot's I've written. Hopefully I didn't kill it.
