One week after Ling's death

Bolin wandered aimless through the edgy streets of Ba Sing Sae, the rent for the rest of the month in his pocket. A burnt down building was cordoned off to his left, formerly a pub, if Bolin remembered correctly. It wasn't the only victim of the sudden guerrilla tactics from Omashu. War had officially begun.

There had been fifty-seven simultaneous attacks all across Ba Sing Sae, mainly in the Lower Ring, but a good few in the Middle Ring too. They had even managed to infiltrate the Upper Ring, setting off a bomb there.

Eight hundred and ninety-two. That was the official number of those murdered, and was still rising every day as more corpses were uncovered. Only three bombings had been foiled, which seemed pitiful in comparison to the tragedies that had occurred. Banks, police stations, pubs, libraries, even a few bending schools. Every aspect of socialising had been targeted so long as it was a popular place to gather, in the public's general downtime, when they were off guard.

Nel was in hospital, one of the very few people to get away from these attacks alive, although he was in critical condition. He wasn't allowed any visitors for the time being, as apparently, his oesophagus had been pierced, making it extremely hard to eat food. Every breath caused him pain, according to the doctors. Mo had left for Zaofu to tell Ling's family the horrible news. They could send a letter, of course, but even the notion of that seemed extremely shallow.

Ling had been almost a mentor figure to all of them, so the idea of letting his mother, father and little sister learn of his death by just a measly letter was pathetic. No amount of words could explain the heartache that Mako, Bolin and Mo were going through (Nel wasn't to be told until he was fully fit). It was as though their souls had been ripped out of them.

Mo beat himself up relentlessly with guilt, as he thought he could have prevented the death of his best friend too, if he hadn't run away, in his words. Bolin reassured him endlessly that he had ensured the safety of over fifty children by following them back, but even those words felt empty. He just couldn't summon up any empathy, even though they were all a tight knit group.

Had been a tight knit group.

Mako was the only one who cried openly all the time, ironically, seeing as he was the 'tough guy' growing up. This was because of two things. He had been torn apart mentally when he was drinking on his own back in Republic City, and Ling had sympathised and guided Mako kindly so much that it was like having his limbs wrenched off slowly. The second part was that he felt he could've stopped the entire problem before it began if he'd been more attentive. Mako told the others about how he had been fooled, but none of them blamed him at all. They didn't consider themselves any better.

Mako had decided to stay in Ba Sing Sae a little longer, or rather, he couldn't leave Bolin all on his own. They were the only two living in the apartment now, and Mako didn't want Bolin to succumb to same darkness that had turned him suicidal. The school had been cancelled immediately, of course, which meant that neither of them had work, but the money from the classes would last them for another nine months easily, rent and groceries, everything. It felt like blood money to Bolin, but Mo had talked him around to using it until they were capable of supporting themselves otherwise.

The regular flow of life that Bolin had gotten used to over the last year or so had suddenly stopped. He felt stagnant, hungry, and cold all the time. He wanted to deny everything that had happened so badly, but he just couldn't. The image of Ling's dead body was burnt into his mind. Bolin felt that if Ling appeared in front of him right there and then, he wouldn't believe it. He had hung onto false hope for so long when he was a child that his mum and dad would come back miraculously, but they never did. He had come to learn the hard way, at that young age, that it was the hope that really twisted the knife.

The image of a blade piercing through Ling replayed in Bolin's mind for the hundredth time. The faces of the men from Omashu were all shrouded in darkness, all blurry. It was only Ling's ghastly features that-

Stop it! Bolin forced himself, shaking his head wildly. He couldn't break down here, in public. He focused all of his attentions on his surroundings, which seemed so bleak now. Every scuttle, tap, crunch, pop, rattle, slap, clap, whimper, resonated in his ears. It was as if they were echoing around in the hollow shell that his body was now.

Every harsh feeling on Bolin's body was amplified too. His shoulder ached constantly, and would keep on doing so for another ten days, while every itch felt like a burning rash. His stomach wanted to cave in with the thousand calories he'd eaten in the last two days, but whenever he looked at anything other than water, Bolin wanted to vomit. He stumbled through the mourning streets, walking in a haze.

Bolin tried to think of all the good times he had spent with Ling, to cherish them fondly rather than be sorrowful because he was… gone, his body being held in a freezing chamber so it was preserved until further notice. He thought about the thousand times Ling had made him burst out laughing, or even just smiled contently.

Bolin thought about the hundreds of hours Ling had dedicated to the destination of reaching their dream. He thought about how Ling hilariously failed to get with women, his cringey pick-up lines nearly making the others suffocate with laughter. He thought about how Ling never jumped on the opportunity to go to town on someone when they messed up their argument, but just calmly proved them wrong, even though he was capable of humiliating them, so much that they wouldn't even want to look at their reflection in the mirror after.

But all these thoughts came back to one scene, one horribly graphic scene.

The thrust.

The sudden freezing motion.

The look down.

The expression of realisation.

The removal of the blade.

The defeated action of falling onto his knees.

The drop of his body onto the ground.

The look-

"STOP IT!" Bolin yelled, clutching his head, banging it repeatedly off the ground, like a madman. He got a few looks from the people around him, but no-one judged him. Everyone knew what he was going through in one way or another.

Bolin rolled around crazily on the ground for the next minute or so, before he regained his sense of place and time. He groggily pushed himself up, noticing that the building he was going to was just up ahead, where he had met Meng nearly a year ago now. He checked for the money in his pocket, which was still there, then begrudgingly continued.

Bolin wandered in through the front doors of the lobby, the usually busy entrance dead quiet. The clerk at the desk stared straight ahead of himself, trying to keep professional. But Bolin saw the tremor in his lips as he walked up to the desk.

"I've got rent to hand in," Bolin told him, taking the money out as proof. He held his ID card up for the man.

"Go," the man said flatly. He was clearly dealing with a personal loss himself. Bolin nodded briefly, then walked up the stairs to the third floor, where Meng's office was. Mo usually paid the rent, but as he was away, it was up to Bolin. The eerie silence threatened to strangle Bolin as he knocked on the door.

"Come in," Meng's voice accepted abruptly, and Bolin opened the door, stepped in and closed it behind him. He made eye contact with the woman almost immediately as he turned around.

"You!" she snarled immediately. Bolin was taken aback out of his mood temporarily as Meng got up from behind her desk. "You BASTARD! It's all your fault!" She started marching up to him, fury in her eyes. She looked a mess, her hair wiry and her usual plethora of makeup gone. She grabbed him by his shirt collar.

"What's your problem?" Bolin snapped, trying to push her hands off of him, but her grip was like iron. Bolin tried to step away from her, as he didn't know what to make of the situation yet.

"It's all YOUR fault!" she repeated, and slapped him as hard as she could across the face. The force of it wasn't too strong, but her nails dug it, drawing blood. The small cut added to the four scars Bolin already had littered on his face already. "I'LL KILL YOU!" she cried, not lacking vigour.

"Why?!" Bolin demanded, managing to wrench her fingers off of the hem of his shirt, but tearing it down the middle simultaneously. He pulled the money he owed out of his pocket, holding it out to her. He definitely didn't feel like it, but went against his emotions, showing that he had come to pay rent.

"You think you can pay me to forget about it?!" she challenged. "You insolent little prick!" She slapped the money out of his hand, scattering it all over the office, and came after him.

What happened? he thought as she swiped at him continuously, chasing him all over the office. The young lavabender batted her feeble attempts away without a second thought, but her mood troubled him. The only other two times he'd come to pay rent, she'd been strictly professional and friendly. Assaulting a customer didn't fit either of those words' descriptions.

"Meng, what did I do!?" Bolin demanded, catching both her wrists and holding them above her head. She tried to kick at him, but clearly wasn't very skilled at fighting.

"You're responsible!" she reiterated, her voice slowing changing to that of a mad woman. "If I'd never met you, my son would still be alive right now!"

Bolin's snappy attitude went out the window.

"He… what?" Bolin asked, his face dropping. His grip began to loosen on her wrists as she struggled.

"He fucking died yesterday under YOUR supervision!" Meng hammered in. "YOUR supervision. I had to watch yesterday as my boy's limbs were packed into a coffin, SEPARATELY! Can you even begin to imagine how much agony I felt?!" She spat in his face as she talked, but Bolin didn't even feel it.

"I-I-I…" Bolin stuttered, stumbling back, his eyes widening. "I had no idea. I cuh-cuh-cuh, I can't begin to tell you how-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" she screamed, beginning to sob. "Don't give me any of that bullshit! You're one of the most renowned lavabenders in the entire Earth Kingdom! When you were barely an adult, Kuivera had you as one of her right-hand assistants! You should've seen this coming! Don't pretend you never thought they could invade at any given time!" Bolin let go of her completely, and she started slapping him repeatedly on the face. Bolin stood there, frozen, as he realised how he hadn't even had the decency to apologise to any of the parents yet.

"Meng, I lost a friend too…" he began, but then felt that the loss of Ling paled in comparison to this woman's experience. She had raised that child ever since he was a little baby, only for him to be ripped away, and returned in several different pieces. Bolin's sentence fell apart midway through as she continued to beat him.

He tripped over something on the floor, a tiny bin, and fell on his ass. He looked up, terrified, to the grieving woman grabbing a lamp. Tears flowed down her enraged face as she threw it at Bolin. He covered his face with his hands, but it clattered off of his injured shoulder. He grunted, shielding it, but only trembled as she came up to him again and started slapping him harder, her motherly love in each of the strikes. Bolin didn't shield himself from the slaps, letting her vent all her frustrations on him, his guilt overwhelming.

A tear trickled down his cheek, but it wasn't from the pain. Her strikes, although not lacking in conviction, genuinely didn't hurt that much. It was the cutting edge of the fact that the blood of her son was in his hands. Maybe not in the eyes of the law, maybe not in the eyes of the soldiers from Omashu. But in his own heart, he was crippled by what he saw as his failure.

"Meng, what are you doing!?" a man who burst into the room demanded. He rushed over, and pulled her back from beating Bolin, who was huddled, holding his knees, shaking. Another two men came in, hearing all the commotion, and helped pull her away. She screamed blue murder, trying to squirm out of their grasp, but they were all too strong for her.

Bolin suddenly felt something in his heart twitch. Something dark. A sensation he had never felt before. His sorrow for Ling and his overwhelming guilt for Meng's son, condensed into a tiny ball. A moment or two passed as Meng was pulled out the doorway while it transformed, then slowly spread throughout his veins, sending goosebumps all along his skin. It was wretched, evil, no emotion Bolin had really ever felt before. It crossed his mind that this might've have been how Mako felt when he came face-to-face with Kenichi Shinoda.

The unbreakable kinship that Bolin had shared with Ling was somehow lost in the transition as a bottomless anger boiled Bolin's blood. He stood up slowly. He had one ambition now, brought on by recent events.

"Meng!" he called out desperately, tumbling out of the office after her. "Meng, wait! I have something I need to tell you!"

The three men who were getting elbowed and kneed halted, and looked at Bolin in a confused manner as he ran in front of them, bursting to say something. Meng started struggling even more when she saw Bolin right in front of her.

"Please forgive her behaviour, she's had an incredibly rough week, as we all have," one of the men tried to excuse her, but Bolin waved it away instantly.

"I know there is nothing I can do to bring your son back," Bolin started, his emotions tripping over themselves to get out, "but I promise, he won't die and be forgotten!"

"How?!" she growled, chomping at the bit to be let loose. "Why would I trust you anymore?!"

"Give me a minute," Bolin excused himself, running back into her office, an idea coming into his head. He ran back out thirty seconds later, a pair of scissors in his hand. He took a deep breath, and dug the tip of the scissors deep into the palm of his hand.

"What are you doing!?" one of the men cried out, exasperated and dumbstruck. Even Meng calmed down a bit as she stared at him in bewilderment, as Bolin continued the incision, grimacing as he went from side to side. Soon, a three-inch wide cut spanned across his hand.

"I vow," Bolin growled, baring his teeth, holding up his dripping red palm for all of them to see, "that Omashu will learn the full repercussions of their actions! I will join the army and melt their city to the ground! They will rue the day they murdered my innocent lavabending students! This cut will remind me about the anguish you and I experienced from an unprovoked attack! Any time I start to lose sight of the destination, this cut will remind me what you've had to go through!"

With that, Bolin turned on his heel and marched to the stairs.

"What?!!" Mako exclaimed as he heard Bolin inform him of his new decision. "Say that again!"

"I'm joining the army to fight against Omashu!" Bolin repeated clearly. "Why aren't you happy?"

"Why amn't I happy?" Mako asked, exasperated, throwing his hands up in the air. "Why amn't I happy? There are too many obvious answers to that!"

"Tell me then," Bolin challenged Mako, his arms crossed. He had washed the cut on his hand, which had dyed his entire palm a shade of crimson.

"First of all," Mako started, holding out a finger and tapping it, "this is a foreign war! We've got nothing to do with it, the actions of these egotistical prime ministers or kings don't think about our well-being for one second! We didn't like accepting the war clause in the terms, but we only did it on the preface that war wouldn't break out in the first place. In fact, you were the most annoyed out of any of us! Why have you decided to do this?"

"It's a situation no-one ever wishes to be in, Mako," Bolin stated, looking his older brother dead in the eyes, "but this isn't something we can just shove under the rug! I've been dealing with Ling's death for the last week, and I don't expect to get over it any time soon. You've been distraught as well, haven't you?"

"Of course," Mako said quietly, his mind turning to darker thoughts as his friend who had come to a violent end entered his thoughts.

"Well, earlier on today, I went to pay rent for the apartment," Bolin told Mako, "and I met Meng. Remember how we got this apartment reserved, because her son wanted to attend these lavabending classes?"

Mako pursed his lips anxiously; he could tell where the story was headed.

"Last week, her son got blown to pieces in front of my very eyes!" Bolin continued, gesturing wildly. His stomach lurched at the thought of the sickening event. "Maybe it hasn't sunk in for you just yet, because you didn't see it happen. But when you woke up, you saw all their limbs scattered about! That was gruesome, you know that, because I saw you nearly faint! If I don't take action and stand up for my former students, then I'm no better than the soldiers from Omashu!" Mako rubbed his temples, his heart pounding.

"That's nonsense!" Mako rebuffed, regarding his only sibling with a confused look. "You, Ling, Nel and Mo all stood up for the children, it was never your fault! Was it Ling's fault?"

"What are you saying?!" Bolin demanded, stepping closer to Mako. "Don't you ever disrespect Ling like that!"

"I wasn't," Mako told Bolin affirmatively. "Ling died a hero, buying enough time for the remaining children by laying down his own life! It could very nearly have been you that died, because you were both fighting side-by-side for the same thing, for crying out loud, so how can it be your fault?! If it's anyone's fault, it's mine for not asking someone to come along with me to check out five mysterious vans that appeared out of nowhere, and letting them take me hostage! If it weren't for you guys, I'd probably be in some prison by now. So stop lying to yourself for whatever stupid reason you really have!"

"It's not stupid!" Bolin shouted, not budging. "Nel could very well be dead right now, if he was a tiny bit more unfortunate. Are you saying that you don't care about the countless dead we've lost!? Because it's sounding a lot like that to me."

"No!" Mako responded, disgusted at the suggestion. "Ling was one of my best friends, if not my best friend, and what sane human doesn't care about fifteen children that were murdered because of some stupid inter-city power issue?! What's gotten into you?"

"Only a clear motive," Bolin answered, breathing in and out heavily through his nose. "I'm in a position of power to right the wrong that's just been dealt to the numerous grieving parents, as well as ourselves."

"What's your motive, then?" Mako asked, rubbing his eyes, desperate to make Bolin see his point of view.

"I'm going to use my lavabending to melt their city to the ground!" he declared, holding out his palm for Mako to see the cut. "They're not getting off easily with this!"

Mako wanted to smash a glass from the table just beside him, to let out a little of the cumulative exasperation and frustration from what Bolin was saying to him, but held it in. He took a few deep breaths, planning out his response carefully, then faced Bolin again after pacing in circles around the apartment.

"Bolin," Mako began, "I do understand where you're coming from, and it is a very valid argument. I can see that."

"Exactly!" Bolin exclaimed, pointing at Mako.

"But," he continued, "you're making a rash decision in the heat of the moment. It was a rash impulse driven by my anger that made me punch you after I killed Kenichi Shinoda. That split us apart, and part of the reason I came to Ba Sing Sae was to spend time with you again. I also wanted to make my mistake up to you by helping you realise your calling." He clutched his chest, just over his heart, with both hands. "It's been tearing away at me ever since Ling was killed, right here. I'd do nearly anything to bring him back, but going to war in response to that is the complete opposite of what Ling would've wanted!

"I know that you're hurting badly," Mako went on, his voice threatening to crack. "Everyone's been rocked horribly in the city, and everybody is extremely confused as to how they feel. But two wrongs don't make a right! Even if you don't kill anyone directly, 'melting' the city, as you put it, will just increase the suffering that will inevitably ravage both sides! What comes around, goes around…" Mako kept going, then slapped himself on the forehead as what he meant to say came out completely the opposite way. "Wait-"

"There!" Bolin pounced, shaking with anger. "You've just said it yourself! You can't deny it, not to me even if you insist on doing it yourself!"

"You know that's not what I meant," Mako told Bolin. "What I wanted to express was that all the pain and suffering will be passed around both sides much worse than it is right now, and I don't want my little brother getting stuck in the middle of it! They specifically targeted you because of how strong a lavabender you are, and will give you special attention on the battlefield. You're a dead man if you sign up, you have to think about this! This isn't what Ling would've wanted, you can't see it because you've blinded yourself with hatred!"

"I'm honouring Ling's memory and all of our murdered students by doing this!" Bolin growled, and the two argued intensely for another hour, neither being moved in the slightest. Mako's anger from all that had happened recently threatened to direct itself at Bolin. He refused to let that happen though.

"If anything, I'm disappointed that you're not leaping at the chance to join me!" Bolin retorted stubbornly, ready to fight. "Give me one good reason why you shouldn't!"

"I have a daughter that I haven't seen in over a year!" Mako cried out. "I refuse to die until I've been forgiven by Korra and hold Kalla! If any of other arguments really haven't changed you, not even what Opal will think of your decision, then consider this: we've only been honest with each other before because we know that until recently, we were all either of us had in the world. In general!" Mako added, as Bolin started to say something.

"Yes," he agreed.

"And you've told me that you can't wait to meet your niece for the very first time, on numerous occasions," Mako continued.

"That goes without saying," Bolin said openly. "Who wouldn't be?"

"I've already made plenty of mistakes as a father," Mako started, "even though I've only ever held her once for a few minutes. You will be her godfather, if Korra agrees, which she definitely will - you two have both always gotten on, no matter what's been happening with the rest of us, so there's no doubt in my mind about that. I know from the bottom of my heart that you'll always be looking out for Kalla, however you can. Because of that, I know that you'll be able to tell me, without fear of how I react, that I'm fucking up, if you ever see it. If that doesn't change your mind, I don't know what will."

Mako's arms fell down by his sides, exhausted, as Bolin took a few seconds to contemplate this. It was the first sign of relenting he'd shown the entire time.

"I can't wait to see her," Bolin stated, getting Mako's hopes up. "After the war is settled." Mako's heart sank. All of his arguments had been used, and his energy was sapped. He sighed, defeated. He only had one thing left to say, as Bolin set the stage for it unintentionally.

"Anything else you want to say," Bolin offered, but certainly wasn't expecting the answer he got.

"Yes," Mako answered. "If there's no way I can convince you not to go, then very well. But, in that case, I'm coming with you."

"Whatever you…" Bolin started, then stopped. His right eyebrow curled up in disbelief. "Wait, what?"

"I'm coming with you," Mako repeated, crystal clear.

"You're coming with me?" Bolin asked.

"Yes," Mako confirmed. "I'm joining the army with you." Bolin didn't jump at the news, because he'd just spent the last hour intensely beating away Mako's response to his new decision.

"Why?" he asked, suspiciously. "It's not like you to have a sudden change of heart when you've set your mind to something."

"I'm not doing it because I hate Omashu," Mako emphasized. "I despise the people that came from Omashu last week, but they don't represent everyone in the city, and therefore, not the city itself." He placed a loving hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "I'm doing it to protect you. I have a horrible feeling that something bad will happen to you if I leave are you on your own."

"I can protect myself fine," Bolin told Mako. "You know that, better than most."

"I don't care," Mako said. "If I have to go to war to protect my family, I will. It's not a decision that should be taken lightly, and I haven't. In fact, I'm going to think about it a lot before we officially sign up. There's a very good chance I will reconsider, because I really don't want to be doing this."

"You'll probably be in a different regiment, because you're a firebender, and I'm a lavabender," Bolin tested Mako's resolve.

"I don't care, I'll be there when you need me," Mako said definitively. With that, he walked over to the armchair, and plopped himself down on it. "We'll give it a week before we go to the registration office. Just so you know, there's absolutely no shame in taking back your word, at any time. Remember that."

"I will," Bolin replied. A few moments of awkward silence passed, before Bolin excused himself to go to the toilet just so he could get away.

Fuckin' hell, Mako thought as he rested. Why does the universe always shoot me down whenever things are going right?