+==No Going Back==+
She tries to move her legs. Wills them to budge at least a little bit and stop being so useless lying there in the bed covered in plaster. She has no choice but to stop when the shooting pains begin rocketing up her spine. So she listens. To the beat of her heart. A low, extremely slow drumming, coinciding with the thunder outside. It claps and cracks into the ground creating energy that spreads out into the earth like roots of electricity. She can feel it. Above ground the rain falls and she can feel that too, and the wind which carries the water into a storm. As the Avatar, as a force of nature herself, she can sense everything. Mostly because she has no choice. She can't go out there and start bending, she's stuck in here in her useless body. So she listens.
It was morning when they got back. They were riding on Oogi the whole night even though everyone was about to pass out from exhaustion. It seemed that the only one being able to get any sleep, a frightfully still one, was Korra. She lied cradled in her father's arms. Tenzin wondered if he'd be able to let go of her once they reached Air Temple Island but quickly disregarded the thought in favor of his own wounds, concentrating on keeping still.
There was a lot they didn't see, although they didn't have to (neither did anyone want to). It all spoke for itself. The shackles around her wrists and ankles which she had somehow managed to break free from. The terrifyingly large pool of poison leaving her body. They saw enough. Her eyes that glowed with the power of two unified spirits, one clinging hopelessly to the other, the other begging it to let go or they'd both die. For some reason, Raava was willing to follow Korra into darkness and take the Avatar cycle with her.
When Katara first saw Korra, her first reaction was sadness, and she felt a bit selfish. Because it was sadness for herself and guilt. Aang made her promise to protect the next Avatar, like she had protected him. This reminded her of the time she saved his life, when he was struck out of the sky like an angel with it's wings being burned by lightning. There was no healing water that could undo what had happened this time. And she felt remorse because it was Korra who had to feel broken, not her. Although she has to experience saving the Avatar from the brink of death twice in a lifetime, it must be worse to relive it. However, Aang's spirit was no longer with Korra. Korra was living her own world of pain plus the grief of the thousands before her.
Judging by what has happened to the girl in the year she was seventeen, you'd be surprised to learn that the average lifetime for the Avatar is a century. And what would surprise you even more would be what was going on in Korra's head during this time of great depress. She thought it wasn't worth it to cry for what was lost. It would take years to mourn every single one of them, all worthy of a personal moment. Instead, she let others cry for her. They don't think she knows, but she can't sleep. She has no choice but to listen.
When the rest of them see her coming out of the infirmary, it was not on purpose. No one was supposed to be around when she left her bed in the wheelchair. But they were all there. Her two favourite brothers and friends were there which was unforgivable. Preferably no one was allowed to see her like this and she avoided people as much as she could now that she was conscious. Although they were a few feet away and her right eye was bandaged (along with her legs, torso, the most of her body), she could hear shameless gasps silently echo from mouths covered by hands shot up to cover their surprise. This was what she hated, the pitifulness of her condition. But she had no choice but to listen.
The only one who didn't look at Korra in this moment with pity was Tenzin. He looked to her as the admirable person she was. With reverence in his eyes he watched her bruised and battered self struggle to wheel itself away. Even now she didn't give up. It gave him hope. Because after all this, Korra would become wiser. He knew that wisdom had nothing to with age but everything to do with experience and acceptance. She just had to listen.
