"Don't you find it a little ironic that you're the Firebender, yet you can't cook a decent meal to save your life?" I tease.

"Shut up, Bolin," he half-heartedly snaps.

I smile, knowing that I'm getting to him. "C'mon, Mako. Seriously. You don't find that strange at all?"

"Well, you've lived on those meals and survived, haven't you?"

"Pssh." I swat the air and roll my eyes up to the leaky ceiling. "Barely."

My big brother sighs. "I admit,since you've been cooking the food… it is a bit more tolerable."

I fold my arms across my chest. "A bit more tolerable? More like they're way easier to stomach and they're actually edible."

"Sure, bro." Mako lets out a loud breath. "Maybe you should've done the cooking years ago." He coughs and adjusts the sheets he's wrapped in. "Too bad we had to find out you're the chef in these circumstances, huh?"

"Yeah. Too bad," I repeat.

My brother is sick. Mako, my big brother who's always been there for me, who's always looked out for me, who's always taken care of me, is bed ridden- if you'd can call dirty sheets I had to go digging for a bed. How is this even possible? I mean, this is Mako for crying out loud! I never thought he could get sick. Mot my big brother. Not after all of this time. Not after spending years on the streets. I've gotten sick before, but never this bad. Yet there he is, right in front of me, shivering, teeth chattering, cheeks flushed.

Because he's done it so many times to me even when I caught the simplest cold, I place my hand on his forehead. Only to remember his body temperature is already heightened due to his Firebending abilities. But even with that, I'm sure it's too high. He's always warm, but he's too warm. An uneasy feeling works it way into my stomach.

"Bolin?"

I force myself to swallow the lump in my throat. "Yeah, Mako?"

My usually stoic older brother forces the corner of his mouth to curve into a smile. "Don't you find it a little ironic that I'm the Firebender, yet I'm the one who got sick?"

Now that is a sure fire sign that he's not himself. Mako is smiling and making jokes in a serious situation. That's something I've been trying to make him do for years, but I'm not happy about it at all. I can't make myself return the gesture, even for his benefit. I can't do it. Not with him so sick and me perfectly healthy.

He reads me easily and the small grin evaporates. He tries to sit up, but I stop him. Or really, he tires himself with just lifting his head and gives up before my hand even reaches his shoulder. "Don't get up. Just relax. Here, eat the dumplings." I reach behind me and grab the bag.

The stubborn boy shakes his head. "No thanks. They're your favorite anyway, Bo. You eat them. I'm good."

"You need to eat," I insist, holding the paper bag closer to him.

"So do you," he counters, pushing them away.

I easily push them back. Spirits, he's so weak. "I'm not sick. You are. So eat up."

Mako hesitates and I can tell by the look in his eyes that he's trying to think of a legitimate excuse to skip out on another meal. "But... but I'm not hungry. Seriously, just eat them yourself. I don't want them to go to waste." I arch an eyebrow, not falling for it. "I've lost my appetite. I'm sick. You know how it is."

I cross my arms and force a laugh. "You never care when I say that. You say I need to eat more to build my strength back up." I frown. "You already give me more than half the share of food on a normal day, Mako. I think you deserve at least your fair share on a sick day."

He pulls his sheets tighter around himself and turns away defiantly. "I'm not eating," my brother states. I grunt a refusal. He turns back around, a pleading look on his face. "You need to eat, Bolin."

"So do you."

"I'll be fine."

The lump in my throat comes back, making me struggle with my next words. "But you're not fine right now."

We're quiet for a long time after that. Neither of us are eating the food, making eye contact, or saying anything. It would've been totally silent if it weren't for the gagging coughs my brother let out. Every time a round of them started up, I have to close my eyes and grit my teach as if the sound of them hurt my ears. It was painful listening to him cough that much.

"Look, Bolin," he rasps sometime later.

I really have no idea how long we sat without talking. Minutes, hours, I don't know. I do as I'm told and look up from my lap to meet my brother's eyes. When did he manage to sit up? He should be lying down. Actually, I was hoping he had fallen asleep. I stand up to ease him back down to a horizontal position, but that's when I notice he has his red scarf in his hands. He always says it's his second my prized possession. He says I'm his first. I always tease him about that because it sounds funny.

But really, it makes me feel important.

People would do a lot crazy things for their most prized possession. They'll do anything to keep it theirs and too keep it out of harms way. And that's exactly what he does for me. Though sometimes, I wonder if the scarf should be first and me be second. That scarf does more for him than I ever do; more than he ever lets me do. At least the scarf helps him; I always get into trouble. I never do it on purpose, honest to Spirits, but when compared to the scarf, I'm a nuisance.

I sit right in front of him and grab the scarf from his grasp. I reach up to toss it around his head, but he stops me. "Bolin, I want you to have it."

My jaw drops. "Wh-what? But this is yours! I can't take your scarf! And you need it to keep yourself warm!"

The teenager sighs heavily, causing him to cough some more. I try to put the scarf back on him, but he stops me again. "No, it's yours," he says hoarsely. I accept the scarf, holding it gingerly in my hands, eyes flickering between it and my brother. I end up staring down at it. "You're not six anymore. You're grown up a lot these six years. And I just want you to be... prepared."

"For winter?" I ask, puzzled.

"When you were six, you weren't prepared. Neither of us was. Who can prepare for something like that? With something like this, with me being so sick, there's always the possibility it happening again. It's not an inevitability, but still a possibility. I don't want you to feel like this came out of left field."

"Prepared for what?"

"I'm real sick, Bo." He grabs my wrists and brings them up so the scarf in my hands is between our faces. "I want you to have it. Just in case, okay? Just in case I don't get better. You'll need it a lot more than I will. So keep it. You used to beg me for it anyway when we were younger."

Is he saying what I think he's saying? "Stop it, Mako," I order, but my voice is thick and my eyes are brimming with tears. I can't cry. I shouldn't cry. Mako doesn't cry, so I don't cry. "Don't talk like that. Nothing bad is going to happen. I'll take care of you. You'll get better, I swear. I'll take care of everything."

Those words seem to pierce him. He visibly winces. "I'm- I'm sorry, Bolin."

No. He shouldn't apologize. There's no reason to apologize. "For what?" I ask in a panic.

"For failing you."

My eyebrows knit together. Is he delusional, too? "Failing me? What are you talking about?"

"I'm sick in bed, Bolin," he deadpans.

He still has me at a loss. "I know. Way to state the obvious. But-"

He looks away shamefully. "Don't you see? I'm the older brother. I'm supposed to take care of everything. I'm supposed to make sure you're okay. Not the other way around. You shouldn't have to do anything. So I've failed. Mom and Dad would be so disappointed." Mako takes the scarf and puts it on me and I just watch with wide, stinging eyes. Wait, are his eyes watering? "There. It looks great on you." He coughs. "And now you'll always have a piece of me with you in case I… join Mom and Dad."

"No!" I stand up, yank off the scarf and throw it at him.

"What's wrong, Bolin?"

"Not you, Mako! Not you, too! The world can't take the last thing I have, my most prized possession, can it?" I pause to wipe away the tears sliding down my face. I hate myself for doing this. "Mom and Dad would be so proud of everything you've done for me! There's no way they could be disappointed! And everything will be fine! You will get better! I know it!"

"I really hope so," he starts. "But you never know."

I stomp my foot, making the ground rumble. "Oh, I know!"

"Did you go see that fortuneteller again?"

Maybe I have, but that's not the point. "I know you'll get better because you promised me it would always be you and me! If you don't get better then it's just me and that's breaking a promise! Mako, you have never broken a promise and I don't plan on you starting now!" I fall to my knees and drop my chin to my chest, hiding my face. "You can't break your promise. You're my big brother. I know you'd never do that to me."

Unexpectedly, a pair of arms wrap around me. I don't know why, but this makes me want to cry more and for once I don't care whether it's something Mako would do. I'm not Mako and I don't want to be Mako because I want to be able to have him hug me like this. I'm Bolin and I'm happy to be his little brother. He needs to stick around for me to still be his little brother. I want to say something, but the sobs are taking over. I'm losing control.

"It's okay, Bo," Mako says in a low voice. "I'm not going anywhere."

"R-really?" I sniffle.

"Didn't you say I promised it would always be you and me? Always means forever."

"Y-yeah. But earlier you were talking about being with Mom and Dad."

"I was… just scared," he admits.

I jump at the admission. "You were scared?" Finally, I pull away and look at him in disbelief. "But you're not scared of anything, Mako."

"Sure I am. I'm scared of a lot of things." Now I'm curious. What could possibly instill fear in my big brother? "My biggest fear is about anyone or anything hurting you."

"Oh…" Is it bad that I was hoping that he'd say something like bugs or storms? I stifle a laugh at the thought.

"What's so funny?" he asks suspiciously.

"Nothing, nothing." With my sleeve, I dry my face. Then I pick up the red scarf and hold it out to him. "You can have this back now." He glowers at me so I just put it on for him. I stick my tongue out and he weakly pushes me. Then I shrug. "It looks better on you anyway. Scarves aren't my thing, especially red ones. They clash with my eyes."

He rolls his eyes. "Oh Spirits, Bo."

I laugh. "Okay, so you offered me one of you most prized possessions, so I'm going to give you some of mine. And you're going to have it- at least half of it- even if I have to force you to have it."

"And what is that?"

Putting on a big grin, I snatch up the paper bag and hold it open to show him the dumplings. "Food, bro. Food."