And The World Lies In Ruin

The unspoken words hang between them, the sorrow thick as fog, an almost tangible thing. She puts her hand on his shoulder - he thinks to throw it off, but it doesn't matter, nothing matters anymore - so he doesn't. In that gesture, she's trying to convey all the words she can never say, the apology that won't change anything, not anymore, the words she wishes would change something.

Anything.

If the situation had been different, she would open her mouth and say; "I'm sorry. It'll be okay, don't worry, everything will work out. We'll find him, we'll get there before anything happens. We can do it."

But there are barriers neither of them can cross, differences and distances that span an abyss between them. She doesn't understand what he's going through, can't possibly relate, and she knows this as well as he does.

So when everything crushes him, makes him fall to his knees and let out a terrible, keening wail of pure grief that will haunt her for a long time, she stands beside him, silent. Resilient, even as the grief claws at her insides, begging to be let out, demanding it. But now, in this moment, someone has to be strong. He's always been the strong one, always, and what would he do, with no one to be strong for him?

So she offers him the only comfort she can, however useless it is in this moment; her companionship. She wants to tell him that he's not alone anymore. But his sharp, stinging, cruel retort would find its target; "You don't know anything. How could you? You've never cared about anyone like this, you don't know what it's like."

He is numb.

This numbness vaguely reminds him of once, during the coldest winter Republic City had had, when they almost froze to death. This numbness paralyzes him, tranquilizes him, renders him unfeeling to the world around him, to his own physical pain. His arm is broken, his ankle twisted, a few ribs broken and bruises have already begun to spread their way across his alabaster skin. She's in no better condition; limping, broken bones, bruises, cuts, bloody abrasions. They're neither of them in any shape for a pursuit, and they know it.

Defeat.

It tastes bitter. He tastes bile in his throat, wonders if he's going to throw up, not that he can get up. Because the world has slowed to a halt around him, the numbness is slowly killing him, and nothing matters to him anymore.

Everything he has ever fought for is gone. Everything he has ever cared about is gone. In this moment, with the tears running silently down his face, even the friendship of the broken, bloody Avatar who fought alongside them means nothing, however filled with well-intentions she is. However filled with well-intentions anyone is.

She's crying silently too, sinks to her knees on the ground next to him, her hand falling from his shoulder to cover his hand. He doesn't have the will to removes his hand, doesn't think to care. Had this been a different situation, her hand covering his would have delighted him. It would have sent a jolt through him, would have had his heart beating out a jagged, twice as fast as normal rhythm, would have made him blush as he shyly held her hand.

But now, here, it means nothing to him, and the desperateness in the way she clenches her hand almost tells him what he knows she wants to say if she could. "I care about him, too. You're not the only one." He wants to acknowledge this, wants to tell her "I know. He'll be okay. We all will.", but these would be empty lies to fall upon deaf ears. They both know how impossible it will be to locate him; they have nothing to go on, no leads, but they will never stop trying.

He knows he will die trying, if it boils down to that.

For now, though, he merely feels as if his heart is breaking, as if time has stopped and life is going on without him, which it is. As he struggles to his feet, dragging Korra to hers, he realizes that his carefully constructed, previously controlled world has fallen into ruin, the remnants lying at his feet.

He has never known a life without his little brother. And now, the little boy that he promised to protect is gone, the boy that he has spent a lifetime protecting, caring for, looking after, is in the hands of the enemy, where they will surely do unspeakable things to him. Somewhere impossible to find.

He has failed.