A/N: As the huge sucker for Mako whump that I am, I've used my new-found summer free time to write this! It's a bit dark, and a oneshot. It's also my first story, and I'm excited to hear what you think of it, so please review! Enjoy!
There is darkness, and there is nothing else.
Because if there was anything else she would break into a million pieces, her soul fracturing beyond repair, and everything would be over.
All she can do now is sit in this darkness, knowing but not caring that equalists are probably searching for them, roaming through the dusty tunnels and coming to capture them or worse. Amon would be leading the pursuit. But all she does is sit, clutching at his body, cradling his head against her chest. One hand is pressed against his side, pushing with all her strength to stop the bleeding. It won't be enough, and she knows it; but she won't accept it. Never, never, never. He has to be okay. He will be okay. The dark sea of other possibilities rolls upwards, threatening to sink her, but she pushes it down, holding him closer and burying her face in his coal-black hair.
The smell of copper and death and fear is overwhelming that of him, of his scarf, his gloves, and she desperately tries to push it aside. She wants his smell back, the one that is like fire and warmth and strength and not blood, and she drinks in all of it that she can, nearly choking on the other stenches that pervade her senses. She feels more of the warm, wet substance pulse from between her fingers and tears begin to sting at the corners of her eyes, threatening to pull her under again.
She was coughing on the dust, choking and spitting, head pounding and arm burning with dull, steely pain. Her ankle was broken. The rocks were everywhere, and she was amazed she hadn't been hit harder. All there was after that were her own screams, panic seizing control of her throat and tearing out their names, throwing them at the unforgiving, relentless blackness only to be swallowed by the thick and hungry air. Until Bolin's desperate voice had reached her ears.
"Korra!" And with that, relief flooded her and she could crawl towards the sound, finally reaching him as a dim flame sputtered into being at his brother's shaking fingers. Bolin's face was bloodied and swollen, but his eyes were bright and alert with desperation. She could see why immediately. Mako was propped against the wall, leg pinned under a pile of rocks and red coating his hand, his side, far too much of it leaking from his mouth. A gash above his eyebrow was painting the left side of his face with more blood, cuts and bruises dark and bold against his too-pale skin. An equalist's knife was jammed into his side and his eyes were glazed, the thin flame at his hand wavering weakly.
She needs to keep the tide from reaching her and the silence is pressing in on all sides, so she talks.
"Bolin," she hisses at his unresponsive form. "He'll never recover. He'll never forgive you if you die. You can't do that to him." She wants to shake him, hit him, make him reply and open his amber eyes and look at her and say that he wouldn't ever leave. "Neither will I," she goes on. "If you go, I'll… I'll hunt you down in the spirit world and I'll kill you again. The Fire Ferrets will be gone forever. I won't let you. I won't let you go." he remains motionless in her arms, and she resorts to pleas. "I don't have any water, I can't heal you, but Bei Fong and Tenzin will be here soon and you'll be okay. I promise. Look, let's make a deal. You hang on, and I will too, okay? I never even got to say it back. I have to—" but talking to him isn't working, can't keep up the wall that protects her from the possibility of his death and the unimaginable idea of what would come after. Her breath catches and she's screaming the next second.
"Y-you need to get help," she whispered to Bolin.
"I'm not leaving him," he growled.
"I can't go, Bolin," she says back, frustrated, gesturing towards her foot. Her voice softens at the fear in his eyes. "I'd never make it… not in time." The color drained from Bolin's face at the implication. "Please, Bolin. Get Bei Fong and Tenzin and healers down here. I don't think we can move him." Bolin glanced back to his brother, moving next to him and placing his own jacket across Mako's torso.
"Take care of him. Please…" He is addressing Mako now. "You can't go. Not after everything. You..." Mako smiled weakly, briefly grabbing his brother's arm and holding his earth-green gaze with all the love and reassurance he could find before Bolin was gone, carefully but quickly earthbending his way toward the surface.
It had been hours, hours of holding him and trying desperately to keep his body temperature up, to keep him talking and conscious, before he had fallen under for good.
Perhaps the worst part was his weak and feverish eyes staring up into her own, holding them, cracked lips whispering a broken "I love you" before he succumbed to the blackness. And he never heard her reply.
Now she is alone, in the silent blackness, holding onto him for her life and keeping track of every breath, every heartbeat. His pulse had slowed, erratic and weak, and she breaks when she feels his breath stop for far too long.
Her screams echo through the dust and darkness, swallowed whole by the cave, but she can't stop, can't close the floodgates now. They are the sounds of the dismal and unknown world that awaits her once he's gone, the flitting shadows and blurry premonitions of what his absence will do to her, the pain of the reality that he isn't okay. That his flame is flickering, that it might be extinguished. That she might never see his fiery golden irises or inhale his scent or hear his voice ever again. She presses down against his chest, wanting to force life through him once more, and although she feels another weak stream of air from his mouth, it isn't enough to stem the tide of what has broken inside of her.
Oddly enough, that is what helps Bolin and the rescue party find them faster.
They reach the cave to find the Avatar clutching Mako's still and bloody form, a wordless cry of agony issuing from her lips. They are almost unable to pry her fingers away from his wound and his chest, and when she can't feel his heartbeat anymore more terror overwhelms her. Bolin is white-faced and shaking, leaning over his brother and speaking to him desperately as the healers' hands flutter over him. They do not think that he will make it.
Tenzin's voice finally reaches Korra's ears, the hoarse scream breaking off into a choking sob and her world beginning to blur. The airbender is wrapping a blanket around her and a healer is bathing her ankle in cool water, bone and sinew beginning to knit together once again and exhaustion finally catching up to her. She drifts as someone lifts her, and she dreams of his face.
...
When she comes to she is in a hospital bed, white sheets crisp and clean and free of blood. Pema is dozing nearby. She doesn't know where she is and she doesn't know why, and she isn't sure why it is so strange to see no red or black, or to smell no copper and smoke. But for now she doesn't care. She can sense the terrible memory that is waiting to embrace and destroy her, but refuses to allow it to surface. She drifts again before it can catch up to her.
She awakens again to Naga's warm tongue licking concernedly at her face, and this time Pema is gone. The smell is the same, the white sheets still free of red, and once more it puzzles her—an itch at the back of her mind.
She is as blank as the room for a few moments, scratching the polar bear dog's ears absently, before she catches the sight of Mako's scarf hanging over the back of Pema's abandoned chair.
Now she jolts, the truth flooding back all at once, and she struggles to push aside the blankets and force her way off of the bed. Her ankle is still swollen and tender, but the bone has been mostly repaired and she can push herself onto her friend's back.
"Find Mako," she whispers into Naga's ear, and she doesn't need to be told twice.
Korra's head pounds and her arm, wrapped in gauze, protests the sudden movement. But all she cares about is finding him, finding out why he isn't wearing his scarf. She grabs it away from the chair as they leave, determined to reunite it with its owner. All she wants is to see him, to know the truth of whether he is dead or alive or somewhere in between. By now, she doesn't care if it breaks her.
She avoids Pema, who she sees buying hot tea down the hall, and they are off once Naga catches a scent she can follow.
The odd pair attract many suspicious glances from staff and patient alike, but she makes sure they move too quickly to be identified and carted back downstairs. It is three floors up that, panic rising in her stomach with each room that isn't his, Naga bolts for a door. Korra sees Pabu peek his head out from behind it, chittering in alarm as they rush through. She slides clumsily from Naga's back, afraid to turn and face the bed, fear and adrenaline rushing through her like electricity. It is a split second before she is able to drag her eyes to the center of the room, but in that time she feels everything and nothing at the same time.
It is all extinguished when she sees him. He has a bandage around his head, scrapes on his face and arms and a beaten-down brother on his left, but his golden eyes are beginning to crack open and at that moment she doesn't know what she feels. All she knows is that she is launching herself towards him, lips pressed against his furiously, and Bolin is watching in shock, one hand still holding his brother's. She is drowning again, but this time in relief and happiness and him. He's there. Awake. Alive. And he's pulling her closer as best as he can, drowning in her as well. She creates enough space between them to whisper,
"I love you too," and then she is pulling him into a hug, holding him as tears once more spring to her eyes despite her aversion to crying. She reaches out for Bolin as well and pulls him close, her heart pounding in excitement, overwhelmed by the intoxicating and impossible idea that the flame has stopped flickering and they are all here, alive, together. Safe.
And it is at that moment that she knows it will all be okay.
A/N: I hope you liked this! I don't love the ending, and the thing I'm a little disappointed with in this story is that there's not enough Bolin (I'm also addicted to the Mako/Bolin bromance part of the series) but I have some ideas for fics that are more Bolin-centric and involve him more. I'll hopefully be getting some of those up soon! And please do review!