(This scene is set in the universe in which Bolin has Leukemia. It is set a few months before he was diagnosed as terminal and left for the North Pole.)
Bolin stepped out of the forest, shielding his eyes from the bright glare of the sun. He scanned around the clearing by the train tracks, looking for his younger friend. Chan had asked the earthbender to meet him here an hour ago and Bolin had agreed, worried about him. Chan's mental state had not seemed the most stable since having been diagnosed as terminal a few days prior.
Bolin's gaze rested upon a young man—a boy still, really—dressed in red and grey, sitting on the grass. He strode forward and sank to his knees next to the firebender, facing the train tracks adjacent to them.
"Hi," said Bolin, green eyes meeting the gold.
"Hey," Chan replied, looking away.
"It's a real pretty day out," Bolin pronounced, ideally filling the silence with his chatter out of habit. "There's a whole field of these white flowers between here and the city. They smell amazing! You want to go and see them?"
Chan shook his head. "What's the point?" he said in a dull voice.
"Oh. I dunno…to appreciate nature and beauty and stuff?" Bolin asked. "I didn't think flowers needed a point." He laughed nervously.
Chan pursed his lips and looked towards the train tracks broodingly. After a few moments Bolin started to prattle about other things he had seen on his journey, absentmindedly describing various aspects of his route.
"Bo. None of this is important," Chan said, interrupting him.
"I…wow…okay." Bolin stumbled over his words uncharacteristically. "Sorry. I didn't mean to annoy you."
"I'm not upset. I feel…nothing. I just don't think that any of this impacts me anymore. I mean…I'm dying. Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but soon."
"I know," said Bolin softly, reaching up his hand and resting it on Chan's shoulder.
Chan shrugged him away and a train whistle sounded distantly. "I'm not sure you do know. Sometimes I think you get it…but other times, not so much. We're going to be dead Bolin, dead before the year's end—maybe even before those stupid flowers."
Bolin was silent, chewing on his bottom lip with his upper teeth. "Don't talk like that," he said.
Chan scoffed. "Why? It's true. You know I'm right. Everything is just so…meaningless."
Silence fell between the two benders and the train whistled again, closer. Chan stood up and brushed off his bottom.
Bolin rose as well, turning to his golden-eyed friend. "Do you want to head back to the City?" he asked. "We could go and get some Noodles; I'm starving!"
"Nah, I'm not really in the mood to eat," Chan said, head turned towards the train. He started to walk up the embankment to the tracks, back turned to Bolin.
"Oookay," said Bolin, accenting the first syllable incredulously. "Well, we could go and catch the newest mover that just came out! It looked really scary—there's a monster in it and everything…" he trailed off as Chan reached the top of the hill and straddled the train tracks.
"Um…Chan? What are you doing?" Bolin questioned.
"I think that I'm ready, Bo." Chan said quietly. "I think that it's time."
The train whistled again, much closer now. "Chan, that's crazy talk!" Bolin called, his voice rising in fear. "Get away from the tracks! C'mon—let's discuss this."
Chan shook his head and turned his body to face the train. It appeared in the distance, racing towards the benders at a roaring pace.
"CHAN!" Bolin shouted, desperation coloring his voice. "GET OFF OF THE TRACKS!" He raced towards the embankment and up the hill, stumbling slightly on the damp grass.
Bolin stopped a few feet from the firebender. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" Bolin screamed. "MOVE!"
The train approached ever closer, whistle blaring. It was as if Chan didn't even hear him. He simply stood, unwavering, eyes fixed upon the steel locomotive.
Bolin stopped thinking and acted instinctually. He leapt forward with his powerful legs, sailing in front of the moving train and tackling Chan to the ground. The locomotive whistled past and the benders were sent flying down the track's small embankment by the force of Bolin's jump, coming to rest in a pile of soft, damp grass at the base of the hill.
Chan began to laugh, his initial chuckles rising in pitch and volume until they eventually bloomed into slight hysteria. He pushed himself upright with his arms and doubled over, the force of his cackling apparently causing him breathing difficulty.
Bolin also sat up, rage filling his chest. "What the hell, Chan?" he asked angrily. In response Chan continued to laugh, loudly and wildly, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes.
Bolin shook his head and began to conscientiously take deep breathes in and out, trying to steady his trembling limbs. He'd been absolutely terrified—for Chan, for himself, and he was still quaking in terror despite his best efforts.
Chan's laughter finally died away and he looked up at Bolin, still grinning. The earthbender scowled, flushed circles from his anger coloring his cheeks attractively. His emerald eyes were wide, accentuated by the bright green of the grass surrounding the benders.
Chan moved to his knees and scooted forward, closing the distance between the two quickly. He reached a hand up and cupped Bolin's cheek, stroking it lightly with his thumb. A look of confusion crossed the older boy's features, and he pulled back slightly without thinking.
Chan's golden eyes sparkled and he leaned forward, closing them. Not fully comprehending the situation, Bolin sat still as Chan pushed his warm lips against his own. Bolin gasped into Chan's mouth, freezing completely. Different emotions flooded his chest: surprise at Chan's movements, anger at his impulsive behavior, and confusion as to what would be the appropriate reaction. And perhaps most disturbingly—arousal was now coursing through him, the telltale flutters quivering inside his stomach suggestively.
Bolin pulled back but Chan followed, leaning his weight on top of Bolin's chest and pressing him backwards closer to the ground. Chan's hand stroked up the side of Bolin's face to his hair, and began to gently move across his cowlick on the back of his head. The kiss was quite pleasant; Chan's lips were warm and moist, firmer and less hesitating than Opal's…
At the thought of Opal Bolin's eyes flew open and he raised his arms to the firebender's chest, pushing at him forcefully. Chan disengaged, opening his eyes and flashing back a wide grin. He lifted his right hand and brought it to his own lip, stroking it lewdly.
Bolin flushed deeper and looked away. "I want to go home, Chan. Now." He put on his best "I-mean-business" voice, trying to emulate the tone that Mako would regularly take with him when they were younger.
"At your service," said Chan, standing up. Still grinning, he led Bolin passed the clearing and back to his car.
Mako was waiting for him when Bolin entered their apartment. He was sitting on their couch, arms crossed and expression marred by a look of intense anger.
Bolin sighed, knowing that Mako was ready for a fight. "Hi," he said softly, shutting the door behind him.
"Bolin, what the hell?!" exclaimed Mako. "I come home and you're gone—no note, no explanation, just an empty house. You know you're not supposed to leave—you could get even sicker!"
"I know, I know," Bolin said, crossing the small room and sitting at their table. "I'm sorry that you were worried, and I'm sorry that I forgot to leave a note. I had to go, quickly—Chan needed something and he had to have someone there for him…"
He trailed off as Mako's fists started to smoke. "CHAN?!" Mako raised his voice. "Who cares what Chan needs? That kid is a total jerk, Bo. I can't BELIEVE you would risk your life to go and help him!"
Even though Bolin was inclined to agree with his brother at the moment he felt the need to defend his friend. "Mako, you don't know what you're talking about. Chan is terminal; he's scared, and alone, and he needs his friends right now—"
"I DON'T CARE WHAT HE NEEDS! YOU ARE NOT TO SEE HIM AGAIN—I FORBID IT!" Mako shouted, and the smoke around his arms intensified, seemingly dangerously close to incineration.
Bolin sighed again. He was sore and exhausted—much too tired to have this fight. "Whatever, Mako," he said, standing up. "I'm going to nap." He walked to his room, shutting and locking the door behind him.
Bolin sat on the edge of the bed and undid his sash. Shrugging out of his outer shirt he lowered his head into his hands and rested his elbows on his knees. After a few minutes he worked up the strength to unfasten his pants and lay down, shutting his eyes and pulling up his soft grey blanket.