Song 1 - Playing With Fire - Nikki's Wives
Asami wasn't sure she was out of her nightmare until Korra's lips soothed her shoulder blade. She was still shaking, eying the walls waiting for them to bleed, for the angry morphing faces returning from the dead to punish her for all she'd done.
"You're okay," Korra reached around her, untangling her fist from the sheets. "It's not real,"
Asami remained stiff, only allowing Korra's fingers to twine with hers, staring ahead without seeing, or blinking. The incidentals were fading, but the fear remained the same. She was lost trying to recall the details, trying to rationalise them and what they meant. All the while Korra's fingers were deft, and anchoring, tucking her hair behind her ear from behind before sliding her arm under her bare ribs and sealing her front to Asami's back.
Her embrace created an emotional Heimlich, and Asami let out the breath she'd been holding, cold tears following that slow path across the bridge of her nose. Korra kissed her neck, for no other reason than to say she was there, warm breath pluming over her clavicle.
"Is it comforting if I say 'I've got you?'"
"Yeah, yeah I think it is," Asami found her smile, nightmares sucked but having her girlfriend's naked body pressed against her back certainly helped.
Girlfriend, she thought, I'm getting ahead of myself. She drew their hands to stroke them against her lips. Gotta lose the husband first. She added wryly.
"Tighter," she requested instead of voicing her schemes aloud.
Korra did as she was told, arms flexing, tugging her snug, providing the compression that Asami craved.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"It's fading,"
"That's my line," Korra nosed into her hair, pressing her lips again, "you wanna assume the position?"
"I like this one better,"
"Me too," Asami could hear the smile in her honeyed voice, and her acute need to see it full and sweet, had her turning, had her fingers instinctively cradling her jaw.
"Stop," Korra chuckled, tucking her grin into the pillow before Asami's kiss could reach further than the corner of her mouth. "Morning breath," she lamented, laughter only increasing at every press of her lips.
"Compromise," she teased into her cheek, lips falling onto her jaw, guiding Korra's hands to her back, twisting gratefully into her, legs interlocking, "Tighter,"
"You like me like this," Korra stated, weighing her down, now above, Asami's nimble arms reaching up, crossed over her shoulders.
Asami only hummed, fingers carding through her hair, scritching her scalp that quickly had Korra boneless. She was successfully disarming all the little voices telling her this wasn't real. While Korra was in awe of it, one voice was louder than the rest.
"What are you going to do?"
"Shh,"
"Asami…"
"Lay like this, and sleep for," Asami spied the clock, "three more hours, at least, and…it's too early to think about breakfast, how do you feel about pancakes?" she yawned if to punctuate her point, sleepily nuzzling the top of Korra's head that had taken residence on her chest.
"You know what I mean," Korra chided gently, she was of course referring to the husband Asami planned to leave for good, which truly couldn't happen unless they spoke a final time.
"I know," Asami sighed, tightening her grip incrementally, "We'll talk, we'll plan, but just, let me have this a while longer,"
"What is this exactly?" Korra chagrinned, already settling into her embrace, having heard the notion of sleep her body was already being pulled there with every twitch of Asami's fingers.
"Peace," she answered simply, "The morning after the night before I told you I'm in love with you," her voice gentle and clearly soothed by their position. Korra opened her eyes and felt her lips curling up at the corners.
"That did happen didn't it?"
"Ssh sleep now,"
"Convince me it wasn't all a dream," Korra teased.
"Will you sleep if I tell you I love you?" Asami didn't wait for a response before adding, "Because I do, Korra, I love all of you, your sounds, your laugh, your lips, your mind, your sass, this dimple that I know is on your cheek right now even though I can't see you," her thumb fluttered over Korra's cheek as she failed to stifle another yawn. Chest rising and falling, easing Korra up and down with her breath, "and your bed. It has your smell and god I love how good you smell…" Asami's ramble faded as sleep began to take her. "You've always smelled like home,"
Korra listened to her heartbeat slowing with a grin she couldn't wipe off even if she'd wanted to. Her dread had dimmed down to a subtle simmer, the one selfish bone in her body cheering her on as she closed her eyes and let that sound lead her to her dreams.
In the hollow spot where she could control her thoughts, the memories of all the moments that had led to this one fluttered fresh and bright behind her eyelids, from the first kiss to the last.
Before it all, her trysts with strangers had always been a means to an end, forgetting the world for a while, the world that held her so tenderly in this moment.
Korra would have an itch and someone from a bar would help her scratch it, and aside from the occaisional teeth and or nail marks, the experience never lingered. Korra considered herself something of a people pleaser, if she couldn't love who she wanted, she could make a show of it in bed, regardless of how empty she was inside.
Sex had been transactional, and Korra had been content with that.
Of course, with Asami, all that had changed, how could it not? She seemed to find the buttons Korra had long since neglected in an instant, simply by being given the chance. She gave Korra everything she didn't know she needed. Asami could always play her feelings like a piano concerto, she'd was a prodigy at whatever she tried, and their intimacy together had been no different. She applied the same care and dedication and skill to loving Korra, and every time she conducted symphonies for an audience of one. This included the loving kisses before, the care they took, and cuddling after, that sense of safety that enveloped them both more precious than any wealth in the world.
Immense longing had been transformed into tangible passion, burning Korra inside out in the most exquisite way. When her best friend had undressed her for the first time, she had stood frozen inside the cabin rocked by the storm. Korra was stunned by a tsunami of unfamiliar feelings being returned, as Asami slipped soaked clothes from shivering skin, sensing her hesitation, peppering her with victorious kisses, until she laughed.
Korra could replay the memory and its exquisite nuances. Korra drifted into unconsciousness for the first time swept up in that unbridled joy.
When she woke, she found her love replaced by her pillow. She would've panicked if not for the muttered curse behind the door, ajar leading to the open plan kitchen. She could smell fried dough, and burned batter and her grin returned.
"Shitfuck," when Asami melded the words that was a sure, yet rare, sign things weren't going her way. Korra tugged on an old t-shirt and shorts, paying no mind to the choice as she was curious what was left of her kitchen.
Asami had reclaimed her Gao-Ling Running club shirt, but opted for a pair of Korra's loose, low hanging sweatpants. When she spied her watching, tying her hair up in a bemused smile her jade eyes widened.
"No, get back into bed," the frying pan in front of her gave a spackling noise and she flinched, "I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed," she lamented, but before she could finish the sentence Korra's heart was already squeezing, no wait, the opposite. Bursting.
"How long should I be waiting for?" Korra's lips pursed, and twitched with the energy it took to hold back her laughter. Asami examined her surroundings, instinctively scooping hair behind her ears that was already tied up.
"Four to forty minutes." she surmised. Korra had to bite her lip now, nodding, smiling unabashedly. She paced to the opposite side of her kitchen island, sitting on the stool, taking in her recital.
Asami gazed thoughtfully at a notebook she had stolen, fingertips prone of her lips as though tapping out the secrets into her brain from there, heel of her palm balanced on her chin.
Asami Sato, the Thinker.
"This," Korra tipped the flour bag, weightless and empty over with her finger, "was full yesterday," Asami's eyes snapped to her, guilt a flicker in the green. "How many have you gone through?"
"Attempts or iterations?"
"Stacks?"
Asami bounced her eyes, cracking an egg and moving empty plates side by side, ready for launch.
"These are Mach Seven,"
"Seven." Korra rushed around the island now in search of the missing failed attempts, but Asami caught her.
"Don't look in the trash," She urged, before lips pressed hard over hers. "Morning breath," Asami teased, only angling her head to fit her mouth more securely against her own.
"You're a maniac," Korra kissed her gratefully.
"I will not lose another!" Asami twisted from her arms to snap off the burners, tools now prone, scooping eggs, bacon, and glorious looking pancakes moves she had definitely practiced.
Korra watched from her vantage point above her shoulder, barely registering her own arms snaking over Asami's stomach as she watched her work, as involved in her mission has she was. Using a sieve to dust icing sugar in a perfect snow-storm, arranging bacon strips just so, eggs sunny side up and bright as eyes.
"I always knew this day would come," she leaned back into Korra as she gazed at her work.
"You've engineered the perfect breakfast?"
"Hmm, and I've fallen in love with it, I don't think I can-hey!" She protested when Korra took a fork to her plate and dug into the rump of a perfect pancake.
"I'm sorry babe," Korra muttered around her mouthful of flapjack and syrup, "you told me to steer you away from ever becoming a mad scientist."
"Babe?" Asami laughed at the clear blush rising up Korra's neck.
Korra's defences melted, blue eyes glittering as she gazed lovingly at Asami's creation.
"This is really good,"
"Sit down," Asami rolled her eyes, pecking her lips, nudging her with her hip as she took the plates to serve on the other side of the island.
Korra hopped back remembering this was her apartment, and that she could play host too. Orange juice once paired with her hangovers, would go well with pancakes, she was sure.
When she sat beside her pouring glasses, she was was swayed for but a moment by how normal it felt, domestic and as Asami took her fingers between her own, right.
"What do you say?" Asami teased, glowing with pride at her first bite, fishing for compliments she knew Korra wanted to give from the look she was giving her now.
Only Korra found her throat tight, and an inherent unwillingness to relinquish Asami's fingers.
"I'm sorry," she wanted to live in this, she wanted to feel the good feelings and adore what was happening and take a goddamn photo, but in that moment she was plagued. Gripped by the idea that they should have been doing this so much sooner. Asami could only look puzzled as she listened.
"I let you get too far with him." Korra went on, gaze steady, "I let my feelings cloud the way I saw your relationship and I couldn't see you needed me. I wanted to think you did but, I just couldn't. And then he hurt you." Korra chewed on her lip and let her gaze drop. "I'm just- I'm so sorry, Asami."
The palm that slipped from her grip cupped her cheeks, not to kiss, but cradle, her thumb swiping soothing arcs that only made Korra's heart wrench that much more.
"I've been such a lousy friend to you,"
"That's not true," Asami crooned, "you showed me a fraction of what you felt and you were still the best friend I had…and I knew something was bothering you but I never pushed you, there's so much I wanted to know and I should've just asked."
"Like what?"
"I," Asami hesitated and found herself blushing.
"Don't be shy," Korra's hands mirrored her, tipping her chin up to meet her gaze, "No more limits."
"Best friends talk about boys," As soon as Asami uttered the words she flushed, the feint feeling of being twelve ever present, "or at least I did and you never…"
"I hate to break it to you but I'm kinda involved with you now," Korra smirked, face hot, reaching back to grip the back of her neck, "There is no one else,"
"What about before?"
Korra's face fell.
"I never really dated, after Mako, after healing from the accident."
"But you were seeing people?"
"That's a nice way to put sleeping around," Korra turned to her meal, but made a point to keep their hands tangled on the tiles between their plates.
"Like getting lucky?"
"Or unlucky,"
"Hmm yes I remember June," Asami teased, and Korra let out a surprised laugh.
"No-one compared," Korra watched her thumb tracing the arc of hers.
"To the idea of me?"
Korra's eyes flickered to hers in a moment of earnest clarity.
"To you… just being your friend, being important to you, it was enough, until it wasn't and I…"
"Pretended." Korra started to pull away until Asami held her fingers steady. "I did too…when I knew."
"Oh,"
"One second Iroh, and the next, when I closed my eyes, you…I kept them closed." She smirked sadly, "Wasn't the same though."
"What a pair we make," Korra whispered wryly, watching their hands.
"I think technically we're a couple now," Asami reminded, chest alight, lips curling. "Eat your pancakes before they're cold, they're perfect you know."
"Yeah you are," It didn't make grammatical sense, but it was sentimental enough to have Asami leaning over to kiss her best friend on the temple.
First Iroh, and then I'll ask her. She compiled a to do list in her head as she ate, possessions she wanted to gather from her own house, her mother's rings, her diary, for some reason the pink radio came into her head. Iroh's reaction being an unknown variable, she planned for the worst internally to have a go bag, enough clothes to hide out for a little while, to keep Korra with her, perhaps the cabin in the woods.
She imagined a scenario where Korra was with her, holding her hand, and the gun and pantry came to the fore.
"You can't come with me today," she didn't look up from her meal, "you have to promise me,"
"I'm not going to leave you to-"
"Promise me Korra,"
Korra regarded her from her seat, someone whom she knew as being warm, turned cold in an instant, with boardroom like efficiency.
"What did you see?"
"The consequences of my actions."
Korra's palm graced her jaw and she turned.
"We may have done something bad, but we aren't wrong," she urged, "try to remember that."
Asami's eyes dropped to Korra's t-shirt, and traced her fingers over the plastic faded design.
"Did Kya send you this?" her fingers stopped on the palm tree wearing sunglasses.
Ember Island is for Lovers!
"I'm sorry I didn't think," Korra stood and made to take it off when Asami gripped it.
"Don't," her eyes were watery, loss of something quite intangible gripping her as she tugged at Korra. "It suits you,"
"She gave it to me when I was thirteen…actually I think I stole it, I got caught in a storm and this was part of the clothes she gave to change into."
Her arms came up around Asami's shoulders, and she pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"We should go, when this is over," Asami whispered, feeling weak.
"I'd like that,"
Ryu was stiff, his long body aching from being curled up in this tree for so long. He was exhausted, but thankfully the sharp sticks in his thigh, back and ear kept him awake throughout the night. He'd captured the Sato heiress professing her love on the doorstep, and was mildly disappointed she didn't bring a new Satomobile for him to gawp at as she kissed a woman.
Because that was newsworthy apparently, but his cousin had been so excited. He'd taken his first roll of photos from him at midnight, and asked him to take follow ups, as proof of their affair.
"It's about the story," Sueng had explained, "The more salacious the better, but the pictures with the story have to make sense."
"So what am I waiting for?" Ryu huffed.
"Walk of shame," Sueng slapped his arm happily.
It was around 9am when Asami Sato exited the premises. Click! She was halfway down the steps when her lover took her hand and turned her back, cradling her cheek, kissing her softly, Click!
She wore the same long elegant red dress she had to the gala, sans golden bangles, instead a blue scarf that clashed.
She whispered something to her, holding her hand against her face, eyes even from a distance, wide and teary. Mrs Sato told her everything would be okay, at least that's what it looked like her lips said through the telephoto lens. Click!
I love you.
Ryu was sure she'd said it, and that her lover had said it back. No photo could capture the moment.
He watched her hail a cab, slip inside, and secret away.
Ryu clambered down when the coast was clear.
Korra's heart continued to pound even after Asami was out of her sight.
She had no idea how long she'd be gone for, and the thought alone was killing her. She'd go to work, she'd arrange for time off, she'd go home and break the heart of a potential crazy man.
It was too much to think about, she had to distract herself. Kai was gone, her studio empty, all that was left to do was clean. Anyone who knew Korra well enough would know that was a sure sign on distress.
It was in the kitchen when she was blitzing away Asami's hurricane cook did she find her notebook. A pancake recipe adjusted over the iterations, idle scribbles in the margin, a heart, with K and A at the centre. The letters she drew once, but the shape of it she'd traced. Innocuous, if not for her loaded past with that very act. Korra traced the indents weeping silently, Asami's confessions forcing a rush of sadness through her being.
She'd gotten in trouble for drawing these hearts before, but Asami, while brilliant, insisted on being devil may care with her emotions while she had them. The consequences of this, they had only now began to unravel. Sadness gave way to fury. It shouldn't have been like this. She should have been free to draw hearts like any other little girl.
She swiped at tears and scrubbed harder at the dried batter sprayed on the stucco. She wanted to laugh, but the other notions kept her insides swirling.
The notebook fell when her sponge slipped. On the next page Asami had been formulating another recipe.
Korra's favourite - Sea Prune Stew 2.0
She knew the recipe of course, and Asami had memorised it from making it on those rare girls nights that Korra would allow. (She'd had to leave enough time between them to get her mind together.) Still she'd analysed the flavours she remembered in her head, sour, salty, peppery, zingy, vinegary, in her loopy elegant lettering. At the bottom, with three underlines, add sashimi.
A knock at the door startled her out of her reverie. She took a moment to wipe away her tears and rub her face as she prepared to face the outside. It was too soon for Asami to have returned, surely.
"Hey Korra," Iroh grinned at her, dressed in civilian clothing, toting whiskey.
She froze, grip tight on the door, assessing, willing her brain to figure out what the fuck was going on.
He isn't strangling her - that's a good sign.
"Iroh! What are you doing here?"
"Are you kidding? This is long overdue!" he stepped inside, and Korra scanned the room quickly for any evidence she'd been screwing his wife. He sat on the couch, quite at home, placing the bottle on the coffee table with a clang that was quiet that still had Korra flinching. Her sketchbook with her drawings of his nude wife sat at the end of that table.
Korra was desperate to keep it from him, just the idea of him idly flipping through the pages felt as invasive as it was terrifying. Still in reclaiming it, she had to be discreet.
"I don't understand," Korra crossed her arms over her chest, digging her nails deep into her own arm.
"My house! Oh my god," Iroh's smile was wide, too wide, "Unpacking and taking care of Asami, and the mosaic, wow,"
"I only finished what Yasuko started." Korra shrugged, "Are you…" she hesitated, "alright?"
Iroh pursed his lips, before answering.
"Why don't we crack open this bad boy?" His eyes flicked to the kitchen, and Korra had an urgent need to keep him from the notebook full of Asami's hearts. She pulled glasses from a cupboard and placed them on the coffee table. Sitting in the armchair opposite to pull his gaze away from the pair of plates, a couple of empty orange juice receptacles.
Korra watched him pour at least three fingers in each glass.
"Are you going somewhere?"
Korra tried not to crack.
"The cases? Downstairs."
"Hmm," she nodded.
"With a special someone?"
Lie Korra, lie now and lie well!
"She just left for work." she took a swig of burning alcohol for which she was immediately grateful. "I have to clean up, pack, that sort of thing."
She made a show of tidying, almost leaping at the chance to claim her sketchbook before he noticed it, and gathering other books from her reach to stack and file away on a bookshelf nearby.
"You look ragged," he waggled his eyebrows and she wanted to deck him. "When do Asami and I get to meet her?"
"Depends on how this trip goes," Korra crowed, throat tight, lips pursed.
"Oh," he winked at her conspiratorially, "Mysterious,"
"What did you need, Iroh?" Korra blurted.
"I know you and I haven't been the best of friends, but, one thing I think we can agree on, is that Asami is important to us."
Korra watched him pensively, again thinking, if he knew he would have flipped by now.
"What's wrong with her?" Korra asked, as nonchalant as she could manage.
Iroh ran his hand over his perfect face, through his perfect hair.
"You don't think she's been acting different?"
Korra wished her memories wouldn't flood forward like they did, specifically Asami unbuttoning her jeans with fervent hands on her knees as rain beat the windows.
"She's had a lot going on, new house, new - you, husband," she corrected, "Her dad,"
"Did she tell you? She didn't tell me…I never quite understood, he's in jail, how he could still affect her like this, how could he be this bad?"
"He was Iroh," Korra told him firmly in a warning tone, "He really was."
For a moment he looked like a robot, trying to process her words and coming up short. The moment stretched and he responded.
"Things have been tense, I was hoping you'd have some insight, you know her best,"
Korra frowned.
"I know her well enough to know," she gestured between the two of them, "this isn't my place,"
He looks as though he's eaten something rancid. Nodding he picks himself up.
When he's at the door he looks back, fiddling with the door jamb.
"I know she loves you more than me, I just always hoped, she'd learn to love me the same," he smiled sadly before taking his leave.
He was in his car when he unfurled his hand, and the unique, golden earring digging into his palm.
Asami found her mother's jewellery in the dresser where she left it, a decade ago.
She used to wear rings, on every finger, to camouflage the gaudy diamond Hiroshi had given her. Of course only after she had grown to hate it, but hadn't time to do anything about leaving him. Her illness wasted her away until the rings no longer fit her bony fingers, and in this box they stayed.
Asami took a couple of silver bands, for whatever reason they called to her, simple, wide. She slipped one on each index finger, for the moment imagining that should it come to it, they'd be effective knuckle dusters.
Asami nestled the rest of them in her shirts, covering them with her gym clothes. She every fragile item in a garment, the photo at the Banyan Grove tree, the radio, even though she could scarcely imagine it breaking. Only one from her checklist remained.
Shouldering the bag, she followed the path to the garage. Her mother's diary was in the back seat, key still in the ignition.
It was while sitting in the drivers seat she heard the screech of tyres. She tensed, waiting, glaring ahead at the garage top, where it would open up into a ramp into the driveway. The button was by the gate, but no one pushed it. Instead heavy footsteps followed, and Korra followed her the way she'd come in.
"Korra what-"
"He knows, I mean he came to my house and he didn't kill me but he was so strange,"
"Hey hey, it's okay, he doesn't, we haven't talked and if he knew with you he would have said something - he's impulsive."
"That's us," Korra urged. "You're packed, we should go,"
"Korra," Asami chided, carding her fingers through her hair, training her gaze.
"I'm scared okay? He scares me so much, and what if he hurts you- I can't I love you - I love you,"
Asami cut her off with a kiss.
It was then Iroh found the button in the driveway. Asami didn't flinch away like she was supposed to, instead she let the compromised position speak for her, holding Korra close, chests heaving, hands held tight.
She kissed the corner of her mouth, and opened the door. Korra was too stunned to move after her immediately, and when she did Asami had taken the key, and locked the doors behind her with the key fob.
"Asami," Korra struggled with the door handle.
"How could you do this to us?" was all his silhouette said, sun beaming behind him, he paced slowly down the ramp.
"I love her," it was all she could think of to say.
"So you fucked her?" he wielded her earring like a weapon, and in his other hand could only be the paper on which he had written his vows.
"I'm in love with her," he was in front of her now, looming, "but you don't know what that feels like."
Her eyes dropped to the letter fisted in his hand, but before she could look up he'd slapped her with a back hand. She stepped back, reeling, ears ringing.
When her hearing returned she could only hear Korra screaming her name, punching the windows, unable to shatter them.
When she opened her eyes, she could see Iroh's twisted face, which for a partial second looked suspiciously Hiroshi-like. The transformation was behind the gun he was pointing at her.
"I want a divorce," she sneered without blinking, hands steady.
"You promised," he uttered through gritted teeth, "have and hold, honour and obey,"
"I had that part written out if you care to remember," Her heart was racing, but somewhere between the gun and the slap she'd reached the point of fuck it.
"You fucked someone else,"
"It's always been her, Iroh," his eyes dashed to her, once again trapped, "I was numb for so long I couldn't see it,"
"How long? How many times?"
"Do you really want to know?" she pushed the pistol down, and to her relief he let her. "Look at yourself and tell me I should stay, look at what you wrote and tell me it's not true,"
He dropped his gaze, reeling, and when he raised it again he was looking at Korra, glaring back at him like a caged animal, desperate to attack.
When he raised his gun again Asami wasn't strong enough to stop him, but redirect him a little.
After the pap the shatter of glass made her feel punctured.
"Korra!" when she turned she spied the hole at the epicentre of the shattered windshield. Her panicked blue eyes mets hers through it. Asami unlocked the car and ran to her, Iroh seemingly in a daze at what he'd done, watching her. He rounded to see her tug Korra, intact, cradling her shivering, the bullet hole fraying the headrest of Hiroshi's supercar.
"Look at me baby, are you hurt?" with trembling hands she cupped her cheeks. Iroh could only think how her hands had never trembled when they touched.
"I'm okay," Korra breathed.
Korra's eyes widened Asami's instinct yanked her into place. Shielding her body with her own.
Another shot, and Asami slammed into her.
Korra didn't speak, she turned her into her seat and used her momentum to launch her from the car, feet first into his chest. Gun sliding away, she couldn't stop hitting him. Years of pent up fury guided her fists, colliding with his jaw over and over again. He managed to hit her in her nose first, but it didn't affect her rhythm.
"Kay," a whimper from behind her did.
"Asami," knuckles bloodied she stumbled back. She writhed and bit back her screams beneath Korra's hands.
"It hurts," Asami's hands were vices, fading, on Korra's clothes.
Korra pushed her back incrementally, tugging her scarf from Asami's neck to wrap around the wound on her upper back, right shoulder. The bullet still inside.
"Hold on,"
"There's a phone, on the desk," Asami seethed through gritted teeth, "Wait,"
She snatched Korra's left hand, forcing the silver band from her hand, jamming it over Korra's bloody ring finger. Korra stood with a stumble, screaming mind watching her bloodied hands, Iroh's blood, Asami's too.
Her jumbled thoughts managed to call for an ambulance, and by the time she reached Asami she had slumped over, unconscious on the front seat of her father's car.
Blue scarf soaked through now, smearing the leather as Korra yanked her limp, carrying her up the ramp, kneeling to the gravel, holding her to her upright to keep the wound above her heart.
"Don't do this," she begged, her lips praying into her skin, left hand braced on her cheek to keep her head up "Please don't do this,"
She could see their lives together rushing before her eyes, but it was wrong, she wasn't dying. As she waited an eternity for help to arrive, she even saw beyond themselves, a million mornings waking up with Asami, Seaprune Stew 2.0, going back to the cabin with the family Asami had always wanted (that Korra had always wanted too but was too much of a coward to tell her, oh how she wished she'd told her), coming out to her parents.
"What a disaster that'll be,"
Asami keened softly, as though to respond. If Korra didn't know better she'd say it was out of concern for her well being.
In the back of the ambulance she reluctantly let the paramedics take her, plug her in. She gripped her hand fiercely, as Asami slipped in and out of consciousness.
"Are you hurt?" she flinched when addressed, unwilling to take her eyes off of Asami's chest for a second, rising and falling.
"I'm fine, this is-" she flexed her hands, blood now drying, silver ring starting to stain with it, "this is hers."
"What is your relationship?"
Asami's left hand surged to her then, gripping the print of her T-shirt.
Korra hushed her, even though she made no sound under the respirator. Taking the hand and attempting to unfurl the vice like grip she kept, it was then it clicked for Korra, even before Asami's index finger rose up to trace the scar that served as a reminder.
When Korra had her accident, even though she had recalled only Asami's phone number, she wasn't allowed near her until her parents arrived. Her best friend had agonised over her for almost an entire a day waiting for them, not knowing if she was alive or dead and not able to hold her hand through the worst of it.
Roles reversed, no such waiting could take place, Korra would simply be barred from the wards and information until Asami could consciously vouch, and that consciousness was slipping away fast.
Asami's only legal family just shot her, and even in pain Asami, the genius, had planned for this; to keep Korra with her, and it started with a simple silver band.
"I'm her wife." Korra took her hand and interlocked their fingers, unfamiliar rings bumping in the tangle, "I'm all she has,"
Song 2 - Freddie Mercury - Love Me Like There's No Tomorrow