Well, hello, everyone! It's been a while!
Here's my first of what will probably (hopefully) be many Legend of Korra fics. It feels pretty good to be writing for Bryke's characters again. :) I wanted to get this out before episode six when any and all possible canon go out the window. xD
I own nothing! Anything recognizable belongs to Michael DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko.
Enjoy!
Mako realizes that he must reach far back into the recesses of his mind to remember a time when he wasn't perpetually hungry, wasn't constantly exhausted, wasn't responsible for another life. He's spent years and years trying to play the role of mother, father, and big brother all at once.
He doesn't sleep well. Even in the attic of the probending arena where he and Bolin are safe, cold thoughts of death still creep along bold memories. They won't go away, and no matter what he does, he can always see his mother and father—lifeless eyes and charred clothes and bloodied skin—behind closed eyelids. On the worst nights, he can sometimes see Bolin imagined into the mix, and for those increasingly common nightmares, he will allow himself a tear or two, because without Bolin, he is nothing.
He knows that his brother has the same problem. Bolin doesn't quite remember the details of their parents' murder; most would deem that a blessing, but those empty thoughts only leave space for dark imaginings. Many nights Mako hears his little brother pad around their tiny apartment, pacing back and forth in front of the windows as if he is able to put physical distance between himself and his nightmares. Sometimes Mako lets Bolin be alone. Most other times he shuffles out of bed with an overused pretense—getting a glass of water, opening a window, going to the bathroom—and sits with him.
On these nights, Bolin hugs his arms around himself and asks simple questions about their mother and father. These questions are usually repeats, and even though he thinks they might exasperate Mako, he asks them anyway—what was mom's favorite song, where did dad buy those fancy lemon bonbons, when did they get married?
Always, these conversations end with the inevitable, "I miss them, Mako." To which he'll reply with "Me too. I love you, Bo." And maybe, for a few hours, the night terrors will stay at bay.
...
When she shows up, Mako has difficulty adjusting.
He feels obligated to protect Korra too, even though she says she doesn't need it. She insists on protecting them as well, even though they've made it this far without her. (Not true, Bolin argues and reminds his brother about Amon.) Fine, Mako concedes, but he still refuses to take charity. He's too proud for that, although he has little choice but to accept when she comes to practice with occasional take-out meal, complete with his spicy komodo-chicken, Bolin's dumplings, and her fried wontons. Take-out, she clarifies, not a handout; it's what team members are for.
...
One night, after a late training session, Korra decides to stay in the attic with them instead of swim the channel back to Air Temple Island. She's fine on the couch, she insists after both Mako and Bolin offer to give her their beds for the night. After finally accepting a blanket, she falls asleep with her head pillowed on her arm.
Bolin starts his pacing around midnight. Korra awakes and watches concernedly until he sees her sit up. He apologizes profusely for waking her and tries to keep a smile on his face. It's only natural for her to ask what is wrong, and he sheepishly sits down on the opposite side of the couch. Slowly, he explains his parents' death, Mako's struggle to keep them safe when they were on the streets, Toza finding them and offering a warm place to stay.
Mako gets up when he hears Bolin's quiet stories. He peers around the corner and catches Korra's eye as she listens intently. She inclines her head slightly in what she hopes is effective communication—it's okay, I've got this—and he nods in return. It's a strange feeling, not being the one to comfort his brother, so he slumps against the wall just out of sight and listens.
She asks Bolin about their parents. The majority of his answers are relayed from Mako because, in all honesty, most of the memories he has are vague and fleeting. He tells her how their mother was a firebender and their father was an earthbender, how their mother taught him how to dance, how every Saturday morning their father would take both him and Mako to the busiest part of the city and buy each of them a pastry from the bakery so long as they promised to help with errands. His voice is so filled with pride, and Mako thinks that Bolin might be close to tears, but they never come.
When he tells her about the perfume bottle they still have, Bolin sighs. He says that there's only a little bit left, so they try not to open it, but it smells just like their mother. That much he remembers.
After a bout of silence, Mako returns to his own little room and stares expressionlessly out the still-buzzing city outside. Korra gives Bolin a long hug and tells him goodnight. He tells her thanks and that he'll see her in the morning for practice.
Mako hears a second set of footsteps follow a few moments after Bolin's. Korra peers into his dimly lit room and quietly asks if she can come in. He figures that even if he says no, she'll ignore him and come in anyway, so he allows it. She sits down next to him and rests one hand on his arm.
Mako lets out a heavy breath and glances sideways at her fingers across his skin. He admits to constantly worrying about Bolin: He was so little when their parents died that Mako wonders if he actually remembers them. Eventually, he reveals that he can't even remember what their dad's voice sounds like.
Korra thinks that she's in no position to speak. After all, she hasn't even been away from the South Pole for all that long, and she has her airbender family to return to. She thinks for a while and suddenly she knows what she can do; Mako needs someone to take care of him after he sacrifices so much to take care of his little brother.
She gets up briefly and returns with a globe of water cradled in her palms. Even though he watched her heal Bolin's shoulder, he doesn't know what she's doing. Korra concentrates hard because she's never actually used this skill, but she's heard old stories of a boy named Jet and what it did for him. The water in her hands beings to glow a soft, iridescent blue.
"Let me help you," she pleads quietly and touches her glowing fingertips to his temples. He doesn't want her help. He doesn't want her help, but her lets her anyway.
He still doesn't know what's going on, but suddenly he feels very peaceful, very safe. And it's weird, because he swears he can hear his mother laughing, soft and comforting. Mako remains completely still, even as Korra pulls away, for he doesn't know whether to laugh or cry or beg her to do it again. She watches with guarded eyes and illuminates her water once more before repositioning her hand at the crown of his head with her thumb pressed lightly between his eyebrows.
There's no laugh this time—there's nothing, actually—and therein lies the beauty of it all. There are no thoughts of pro-bending or next month's rent or his family or even her. Nothing. And it's so impossibly quite that when she finally pulls her hands away again, even their slow breathing is loud.
She tells him to go to sleep, but when he lays down on the thin mattress, she doesn't leave. Instead, Korra stays perched on the edge of the bed and brushes her fingers through his hair. It's so strange, having someone take care of him again, and even though he doesn't want her help, Mako realizes that he really needs it. He closes his eyes and listens to the steady tide of her breath. He sleeps past the pull of the sun for the first time in many years.
...
In the morning, after practice, Mako catches Korra by the shoulder and thanks her for—for everything, he stammers as a soft red flush creeps across his face.
She smiles in response, tired after the vigorous round of incinerating newspaper pictures of Tahno. Without thinking, she offers to be his family, quickly following up with Tenzin and Pema and the kids—they'll all be his family.
Mako thinks of refusing. It's not the same. She's the Avatar and they're Aang's legacy and who is he but an orphaned street rat with his little brother to take care of? But then he thinks of how it would do Bolin some good to spend time with people other than him and their ferret.
And then he thinks of falling asleep to her breathing.
Maybe—just maybe—he can adjust to her being in his family.
~Fin~
Because I haven't been too active and therefore haven't exactly voiced my opinions on LoK shipping, here we go. I do, in fact, ship Makorra. But I kind of like Borra too and Basami (is that the ship name?) and I can even handle Howrra. I'm not usually a multishipper. Whatever. I SHIP WHAT I WANT. Not too keen on Masami though...
Ignore everything about their apartment. I've noticed that most people have done similar things since we don't have much detail on it yet. The main trend that I've seen is that it's like a typical apartment with rooms and full beds and the works. From what we've seen, it doesn't look plausible, but whatever.
BE THE LEAF.
Review, please?
Erika
xoxo