Author's Note: Canon compliant, as far as I know. Ages 12/14. I wondered when the last time was that Mako cried. That's how we ended up here. Please accept my sincere apologies. - J
"Bo?"
Mako was careful to keep his voice down and his eyes peeled for shop owners. They didn't take kindly to people hanging around their alleyways in this part of town—especially not homeless kids.
Heat shimmered over the streets and Satomobiles behind him as he edged further down the narrow passage. According to the radio, it was the hottest day of the year and he could believe it. He was sweating through his clothes, even in the shade.
"Bolin?" he called again, just as cautiously. "I'm back… You still here?"
"Mako…?"
His brother's voice came from behind a wooden crate leaned at an angle against the wall. Peering critically into the little hollow, Mako cocked one of his sharp brows.
"What are you doing?"
Bolin shrugged, shivering as he crawled out of his hiding place. Dark rings under his eyes made him look even more pale than he was.
"The woman from the fish market came out," he explained. "How'd it go today?"
He leaned heavily against the wall as he stood up and Mako reached out to steady him before taking a deep breath and shaking his head.
"I got a couple rolls, but that's it," the Firebender sighed.
He had them in his pocket, but he left them there. The alley reeked of rotting fish and, starving though he was, he wasn't sure he could swallow anything with that smell in the air. Keeping a light hold on his brother's thin arm, he gently led him toward the street.
"Let's get out of here," he proposed, casting a disgusted glare in the direction of the fish market's dumpster. "How did you stand that stench all day?"
Bolin managed a half-hearted grin as they ambled past. "It wasn't that bad. At least I didn't get hungry…"
Mako's frown deepened, but he kept his mouth shut.
Nearly a month had gone by since his brother's appetite evaporated. It didn't matter what he brought back—kebabs, fruit, bread, even dumplings—Bolin barely touched them. For the past few days, even what little he did eat had come back up. Mako was doing everything he could to help, but between the food and the fever, his little brother's strength was all but gone.
As if to illustrate the point, Bolin missed a step and toppled forward, clutching his brother's shoulder like a lifeline. Only Mako's quick reflexes saved them both from going down hard.
"You all right, bro?" he asked anxiously, sitting Bolin on a stack of broken wooden pallets.
"Yeah," his brother gasped. "Thanks, Mako."
"Don't worry about it," he muttered evasively, wandering to the edge of the shadows. "Just rest for a minute."
There was something too like an apology in the way Bolin thanked him and it brought Mako up short. He had never dealt well with emotions and avoided it whenever he could—they had more than enough concrete problems to keep him occupied—but he filed the moment away in his mind before he pushed it aside. They could deal with it later.
Raising a hand to shield his eyes, he took a step back out into the beating sun.
The heat had done nothing to slow the bustle of the city and foot traffic flowed awkwardly around him as he looked down the street, weighing their options—not that they had many. Bolin clearly couldn't walk anywhere. He hadn't made it ten steps without collapsing. And they couldn't stay where they were, with that dumpster full of fish.
There was only one thing to do.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Mako slid morosely back into the alley, meeting an expectant look from his brother with irritation. He let out a slow breath and dropped resignedly to one knee, offering his back.
"Here. Hop on."
Bolin gladly did as he was told, scrambling up with practiced ease and wrapping his arms tightly around his brother's shoulders.
"It's been a while since you carried me anywhere," he noted brightly.
Mako only nodded in reply. It was like Bolin to gloss over the unpleasant details—like the fact that he was only carrying him because he was too weak to walk—but a knot of dread tightened in the pit of Mako's stomach as they started out onto the sidewalk. His brother had lost more weight than he'd thought. Bolin had always been a sturdy kid, having inherited their father's Earthbender build, the broad chest and strong muscular limbs that let him tear chunks out of the ground with ease. But carrying him now, Mako could feel every joint and every rib. There was almost nothing left of him.
Suppressing a sigh, the Firebender picked up his pace, staring deliberately ahead. No one needed to know how worried he was.
"Let's go to the park," he suggested tersely, changing the subject of his own thoughts, and without waiting for an answer turned his steps that way.
