Note: Trying a different style for this prompt. AKA is gonna be straight forward, if you know what I mean.
For those of you whom encouraged me to continue this one shot, hope you guys like it.
Btw- this is gonna be a couple of chapter-like one-shots. So...please follow the story if you wish; this isn't the ending just yet ;) More is to come.
1.00 Ib
The first time Mako realizes the truth, he's calling himself an idiot, once he arrives to his apartment door, only to find a lack of key in his pocket. Or his other pocket. Or either of his shoes. He curses himself- Beifong will have his head if he's late, and his lovely partners are sure to have supportive comments- and jumps back on his motorcycle, to his brother's place where it will surely be mockingly sitting on the table.
(It's kinda funny, he thinks to himself. He used to be so much more organized with Bolin around. He always thought that whenever they got the old enough to go their separate ways, wherever he'd be living by that point would be so spotless, dirt would faint in the presence of his cleanliness. Eight years living in filth and poverty gives you a control-freak sense of tidiness. Now he keeps putting cartons away with the wrong sized tops, and his socks are never where he put them. But, at least he doesn't put laxatives in with his underwear...-
Huh.
His feet slam so hard on the brakes that the rubber leaves skid marks three feet long across the pavement.
He's been in denial, he tells himself. He's never been very good at hitting pain head-on. Because frankly, he sucks at emotions anyway. He kinda hoped this was just a phase/he was wrong/seeing things/no,way, big bro, I'm fine don'tworryaboutme ;)
Shit. 'Lactose Intolerance' his ass. Working out at two in the morning? They had done that plenty of times in the gym when they were still living at the arena. Mako thought nothing of it at the time, really. His brother's always been a-wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night person; insomnia was like a friend to both of them. So he chalked it up to his brother doing-what-his-brother-does. And when he caught Bolin puking for the third night in a row after dinner, he stupidly believed it was just a stomach bug/spoiled veggies/just gotta lay down for a bit, bro, no worries.
Because Bolin would never lie to him, and everything was fine. They're was absolutely no reason for anything not to be fine, now, right? They were off the streets, and Amon was gone.
Peachy Keen.
He tells himself he's a fucking idiot and a horrible brother. Like, really. He deserves an award for his ignorance.
He slams his foot on the accelerator, and speeds down the streets.
He learns not to be so blind, after that. His powers of deduction are truly impressive.
2.00 Ib
The second time Mako realizes the truth, it's painfully laid out in front of him on the bathroom floor. He had come right into the apartment, calling his brother's name and asking for his keys. Whie-trying-not-to-freak-out.
The first sign of something wrong was how the kitchen looked like a tornado had ran through it. Mako crept along broken plates and the floor covered in what looked more like confetti than chip crumbs. The second was the horrible moaning from the bathroom. Mako's heart stopped, than exploded all at once as he made a full out sprint to the bathroom.
Promise?
...
I promise.
The third is his brother's slumped figure against the toilet, with red dripping from his mouth and onto his shirt front like river.
His vision dances between the present moment, and eleven years ago. He is nineteen/eight/nineteen/eight and blood still looks like blood no matter what the situation. Laxatives are like bombs, littered around the floor in broken, explosive pieces. His brother is the detonator, and has already exploded.
Mako's throat tries to yell his name, but is ice/frozen. All he gets out are inaudible, jumbled breathes and wheezes.
He stumbles, his muscles going slack as he leans against the door jam.
One. Two. Three.
Breathe.
He closes his eyes. Opens them. He curses, and is sprinting to the phone before he realizes he's even moved.
He's screaming at the paramedics or whoever one the other end is supposed to deal with this kind of shit to, please come quick, my brother needs help, please hurry!
Ohdearspirits...Ohdearspirtsplease!
Somewhere in his panic, he manages to recite the address and the situation. Then he's cradling his brother's head against his chest; his blood is staining his hands and Mako counts his shallow breathes.
He counts them for every time he saw, but chose to be blind.
"I'm so sorry, Bo."
-1.00 Ib
He realizes that he must not be dead, because his breathing-however painful- is quite evident. As are the persistent beeps in the background of his fuzzy mind, and an equally persistent grip on his hand that starts to become sharper every time he blinks.
His first thought is that he is not dead... that being alive is a good thing.
His second thought is a panicking, nearly paralyzing conglomeration of fear and guilt that the hold on his hand belongs to a person, whom must belong to his brother.
When he tries to move his head, a shooting pain in his throat makes him unleash an ugly groan. He blinks a few more times, and the firebender is sitting on a chair beside him; his posture rigid and his face buried in his other hand.
Bolin says Mako's name, voice hoarse and raspy like he's forgotten how to use it. The beeping—now accelerating slightly due to his panicking, and the sure amount of lying he is about to do—doesn't seem to faze the elder boy. Mako looks up at his call; his ember eyes are strangely red-rimmed and bright as he stares at back at Bolin.
It's midday, and if the sun streaming through the grubby windows is anything to go by, than Mako clearly hasn't slept a wink.
"Bolin," he acknowledges, surreptitiously rubbing at his eyes (as if he thinks he won't notice) before crossing the short distance to the bed. "How're..." Mako stops and licks his lips. Something flashes across his face-pain, Bolin thinks, but he quickly hides it. "H-how're you feeling?"
"I've told you, I'm fine. Just a stomach bug," is the automatic response; like acting. Though both of them know it's a lie. Neither brother presses the issue. Memorize it! Memorize the lines until they become a part of you!
"Right—well, it's-," Mako sniffs and rubs his face again. His eyes flick to the tubes and machines on the left that are all hooked up to him, and then back to his face. "...it's good to see you sleeping again, at least," Mako says, hesitating before patting him on the shoulder awkwardly, as if fearing he might break. "You need anything, let me know, yeah? Just rest up for a while."
Bolin tells himself he's a really good actor. That Mako is just that oblivious. But he knows Mako is in denial.
Part of him doesn't mind, though. Denial makes the lies easier. Makes them seem almost justified, even. Besides, Bolin thinks, Mako hates me now, anyway. What's the point of getting in a fight? I'm a horrible brother and he's never gonna wanna see me again with all the trouble I've caused.
"Bo?"
He looks up. "Yeah," He agrees easily enough, because he's too wore out and worn down to protest, and the elder nods jerkily, stepping toward the bathroom. Bolin is filled with an envy as he watches Mako close the door behind him. How his brother can go into that room freely; how the toilet can just be a toilet and not whisper little taunts in his ear day in and day out. Mako's knees have never bleed from slamming down on the floor so fast and hard; Mako's never had to go a day without eating, just to prove them all wrong.
Mako is perfect.
Bolin strains his ears, and the quiet, ragged sounds of sobbing come from the other side. But Mako hasn't cried since-...Bolin cannot even remember. Maybe sometimes, late at night, face buried in a red scarf-but why now? He just had a stomach bug; it's not like it means anything. He didn't have to come to the friggin' hospital. He'll be fine tomorrow.
Maok was being so overdramatic. So, what, the stupid laxatives had been one too many. Maybe he hadn't drank enough water before he puked. Big deal. He was fine. Better than fine.
He was fine.
The handle on the door starts turning, and Bolin instantly flips his body the other way, failing to be inconspicuous.
He blurts the sentence out without even thinking. "You're way overreacting."
Mako freezes, and looks at him. When Bolin meets his eyes, the ember in them is flickering, speckled with agony. Bolin has only seen them like that once before, but he'll rarely let himself remember the details of that night.
"...What?"
"You took me to the hospital, because I got some cold or something. That's crazy, Mako. Can we just find someone to let us leave?" He states. If he has to stay in this bed for another second he is going to freak. "I wanna go home."
He needs to go home and erase all this from his mind. Mako is looking at him-his face switching from shock, to hurt, to anger, to...he doesn't even know. But he's hungry. He's so friggin' damn hungry, and all he knows is that he doesn't deserve to eat, or deserve anything right now and-
Mako is crossing the room to him now, and as he sits at the side of his bed, he takes Bolin's hand in his own and squeezes.
"Listen to me." Mako says softly, yet a fire burns behind his eyes. One that Bolin does not dare to mess with. "It's gonna be okay. But, we're not going home yet. We-..." And Mako does that thing with his face again. He grimaces, whipping a hand across his mouth and closes his eyes tightly.
"Spirits, Bolin..."
Bolin yanks his hand away roughly, and Mako snaps open his eyes. "What do you mean where 'not going home'? Get me out of this bed! I'm fine! I fine, and you-you're crazy is what you are! You-" A bitter round of coughing cuts him off. His chest heaves, but air fights to go into his lugs. The back of his throat feels like it's disintegrating and he grips the bed sheets in his fingers. "Gahhh..."
"Bo? Bo!" Mako is yelling his name, fingers rubbing his back in soothing circles.
"M-mak-! Nihhgg!" The words die in his throat, as he sucks down air, and swallows back bile.
"Breathe, bro, it's okay..." Panic that is barely being contained drips from his voice. Bolin can see Mako's eyes getting blurry again. "Take it easy..." Then he is getting up, and opening up door, he's shouting for, a nurse, anyone, please! Nurse!
By the time he's able to breathe again, it's moments later, and a plump, middle-aged woman comes quickly into the room. She pushes some buttons and changes some tubes, and his chest feels a little less heavy. She's saying some words that sound comforting, but all he focuses on is Mako's face.
"Bolin?"
"What?" He doesn't mean to snap at his brother, but really, he's so angry, and confused, and they were blowing everything out of proportion.
And he was fine. He really was. He's never been better.
"...It's called 'Bulimia Nervosa'" the Nurse is telling Mako. He watches Mako's eyes get wide, then crinkly and he nods every so often. "It's usually related with some degree of depression, and is caused when the person 'binges' or eats themselves sick, so much that they force themselves to vomit. The sufferer vomits to relieve themselves of their pain and negative feelings, so to speak." She looks sadly at Bolin for a moment. He glares at her, then Mako both, before turning away again.
"But these coping mechanisms are very unhealthy," she is speaking to both of them now. "If they go untreated, then can lead to very severe complications, and even death." She pauses, and lets that sink in, as if it'll make a difference. "It's important for people going through these types of experiences to know they aren't alone. Which is why I recommend a support group," Bolin sees out of the corner of his vision, the lady hand Mako a few pamphlets, and some papers. Mako's mouth opens and closes like a koi-fish. He takes the papers, and looks at them for a moment as if he doesn't know what to do with them. He tells the lady thank you.
"Now, Bolin..." He looks up, or more so gives them a sideways glare. Because yes, he's a very optimistic and open guy, but if there is one pet peeve he has, it's stuck up doctors who have no idea what they're talking about, who just want your money. Just like this mook. "Have you been experiencing any negative feelings lately?" She asks the question as if she already knew the answer. "Tell us how you've been feeling."
Bolin looks at her, and made a painfully obvious force not to look at his brother. "I'm fine." He said.
The nurse sighs. "That's not what your brother Mako thinks." She gestured to the elder, who peaked is eyes up from the floor to look mournfully back at him. Bolin could practically feel the blame seeping from his brother; he knew Mako blamed himself for this, which was all the more reason why Bolin hated himself. "Nor that I think." She sat down slowly on the chair, and crossed her legs. "Why do you think you're here right now, Bolin?" Her voice was sincere and full of sympathy. "Why do you think Mako brought you here, if it were not out of concern? Do you remember anything of last night?"
What didn't he remember from last night? He had been puking his guts out, needing to feel something-anything- other than...worthless, pathetic...him. If he were being honest with himself, a part of him wouldn't have cared if he had died, wouldn't have thought anyone else would care. At least then he wouldn't feel anything and Mako wouldn't have to care for him anymore.
"I'm fine." He said again.
"Bolin..."
Bolin's never heard Mako say his name like that, in such a pained way. He makes himself meet his brother's eyes now.
"You're not fine, Bo. Just tell the nurse how you're feeling, bro. Please." And damn it, his voice cracks a little. "You- you almost died!" In one second, Mako is crossing the room, and yelling. Anger is in his eyes like never before, and Bolin thinks Mako might actually hit him. "You almost fucking killed yourself, so don't fucking tell me you're fine! That a load of bullshit!" Bolin draws back when fire licks Mako's tongue.
"Mako." The nurse starts. "Yelling is not going to help-"
"How long have you been doing this?" Mako practically yells. Bolin shrinks away now, melting into the pillows. Tears blur his eyes, then start falling down his cheeks. Bolin whimpers, but Mako continues, oblivious in his anger. "I can't believe you're killing yourself with this! I mean, how-"
"I can't believe it took you this long to notice!" The words are hot and merciless, but true nonetheless. Bolin almost smiles as Mako's lips tremble. It's like when he fell, he took Mako down with him. Good. Mako deserves it. Since when has Mako ever cared about how he feels?
Mako just sucks in a pained breath, and turns away. He's keeps going until he's out the door, and it's slamming back in an echo. Bolin hears his feet running down the hall. He almost smiles.
Beside him, the nurse is frowning and shaking her head. She tells him to rest, and she'll be back in a little bit to talk about 'recovery'.
Pft. As if he has a 'problem'.
He's fine. He's always been fine.
Only now he's not so sure.
Thanks, guys! More will be up soon.
Please tell me what you think. If they were in character given the situation, and ideas for the future, ect...