(This is a second work for the universe in which Bolin has Leukemia. Mako takes Bolin to the hospital after his nose won't stop bleeding.)
Mako had always loved red. Red was the color of the setting sun, the leaves in the fall, his father's scarf, and what his mother had worn. Typically, red was beautiful.
But right now, it was terrifying.
Bolin was bleeding, everywhere. Blood was dripping down his face from his nose in long, winding rivulets. It was soaking through a rag onto his hands, his chest, his lap.
At first Mako hadn't been concerned. The spirits know that he has seen Bolin bleed before, many, many times. But it had always stopped in the past; that's what blood does, normally—it stops.
Nothing had been normal since the diagnosis.
Getting a cab took forever. The first two drove away, unwilling to host a blood-soaked patron in their fine leather seats. Supporting Bolin with one arm and sticking his other straight out, Mako ground his teeth and tried his best to steady his anger and frustration. Eventually one stopped that drove them, and the brothers made their way to the hospital without further delay.
They were admitted to a room rather quickly, and Mako suspected that Bolin's blood-coated front was an important factor in this decision. A nurse entered and handed them a gown for Bolin to change into. Mako undressed him slowly, peeling off each blood stained item of clothing individually. Sash. Shirt. Belt. Shoes. Pants. Socks. This activity reminded him of the earliest days on their own, before the young earthbender was old enough to fully dress himself. Mako used to say the name of each item of apparel individually, with Bolin echoing the word right after while giggling. Mako snorted, amused at the picture in his mind of the laughing six-year-old.
"Whuz so phunny?" asked Bolin, mouth half covered by a fresh rag.
"Nothing important. Lift your arms," Mako ordered, holding open the gown. Bolin obliged and the firebender tied it gently at his brother's neck and back. Once again, the gown's color—this time a sickening rose-petal pink—did not suit the earthbender in the slightest.
A medic entered the room with some pills and a spray bottle. Bolin took the pills from her and popped them into his mouth, swallowing them dry. He pointed at the bottle apprehensively.
"Whuz thas for?" he asked. The nurse indicated that they would have to spray it into his nose, and a look of trepidation settled onto his bloody features.
A jolt of sympathy shot through Mako. He crossed over to his brother quickly and took his right hand into his own.
"It's okay, Bo. I'm here." He said soothingly, tracing the lines on the inside of Bolin's palm as he spoke.
The medic administered the spray and Bolin was leaned back, ordered to keep pressure on the wound. Lying down with his nose plugged, he was forced to breathe through his mouth, which left him little opportunity for his favorite activity: talking.
Mako felt the silence of the room without his brother's usual chatter. Bolin was staring straight up at the ceiling and Mako used the opportunity to study his features underneath the bright fluorescent lights. Though they were familiar, evidence of his sickness marred them: spots of blood that the nurse had missed cleaning up, brown rings tinged with a green hue under his eyes, and a purple bruise on the left side of his jaw. Instinctually, Mako reached up and stroked next to the bruise as if trying to smooth it over.
Green eyes shifted towards the gold and the firebender was relieved to note that the panic in his brother's gaze had calmed. Mako moved his hand down to Bolin's shoulder and started rubbing in slow, small circles as he had frequently done to comfort him as a child and adolescent.
Eventually Bolin's eyelids fluttered shut and his breathing grew more even. The bleeding had stopped and his muscular right arm dropped to his chest. Mako knew they would most likely be discharged shortly, but in the meantime he didn't see any harm in letting his brother rest.
