(This is another scene set in the universe in which Bolin has Leukemia and is terminal. Bolin suffers hallucinations of deceased friends, and Mako deals with the aftermath.)
The colors swirled together, creating a marbleized rainbow on the smooth board's surface. Bolin pushed his brush into the middle of what had become a puddle of pigments, enjoying the resultant muddy tone as he mixed the concoction.
He had always enjoyed brown. This shade was rich and deep, with a reddish undertone—the exact color of mud on a riverbank, or the clay tiling of Republic City's roofs after a rainy afternoon. The hue reminded him of his favorite element: earth, and its component ingredients—dirt, silt-caked stones, the surface of the soil beneath the grass.
Satisfied with the umber shade he had produced, Bolin lifted his brush to his painted canvas and began to shadow the trees of a beautiful mountainous landscape. He hummed absentmindedly as he painted, not quite producing a recognizable tune, and his strokes were relaxed and sure.
Out of the corner of his eye something moved. Bolin tensed and froze, his gaze darting to the figure that had just materialized out of thin air at the room's far edge.
"Bolin. I've missed you," Chan began, walking towards the earthbender.
Bolin eyed him warily and rested his brush on the paint-caked board, setting down both on the hut's coarse floor. Lately his old friends (hallucinations, he kept having to remind himself) had become more aggressive, speaking to him at any time of the day or night. They were now prone to emotional displays, reciting impassioned speeches, crying, and even shouting.
Chan walked up to the sickly earthbender and stood directly in front of him. Bolin looked at him, silently reciting he isn't real over and over again.
"C'mon, Bo. Don't you want to properly greet your old buddy?" Chan asked, raising his right hand. And damnit, but Bolin could actually feel the heat of Chan's skin as he stroked up his forearm, stopping just at the edge of his rolled outer shirt.
Bolin closed his eyes and turned his head away. "Don't call me that," he muttered, stepping back out of Chan's reach.
Chan laughed lightly and stepped closer. "Oh Bo," he sighed, closing the distance between them and moving his head right in front of Bolin's face. "You know you want it. I don't know why you used to pretend not to. Don't you know that you hurt my feelings?"
"You're not real. You're not real," Bolin began to speak the mantra out loud as he turned his head away and shut his eyes.
Suddenly he felt someone take his hand. Startled, his eyes flew open and he looked down, meeting an enormous amber set of a young child.
"Hi Bolin!" said Shu excitedly. "Are we going to paint together? You always said that you'd teach me!"
Bolin wrenched his hand from Shu's grasp and backed up. The hut's room was small and he had reached the opposite wall after only a few paces. Chan and Shu stared after him, eyes never wavering from his.
Tears welled in Shu's large eyes. "Where are you going? Don't you want to stay and play with us?"
Bolin crouched onto the hut's floor, covered his ears with his hands and shut his eyes. "You're NOT REAL! YOU'RE NOT REAL!" he spoke loudly, heart beginning to race and breathing unsteady.
And suddenly Chan and Shu were right on top of him, grabbing his hands and forcing him upright. Panicked, Bolin pressed his back against the wall behind him.
"This definitely is real," said Chan, pressing his lips against Bolin's. The earthbender's breath hitched and he momentarily froze, lost in the sensation of Chan's warm lips and flushed skin.
"NO IT'S NOT!" Bolin shouted, pushing Chan away forcefully.
Chan scowled and Shu began to cry. "Why would you hurt him?" asked Shu between sobs. "We just want to talk with you!"
"This is your own fault, you know," said Chan, a cruel tone coloring his voice. "It's your fault we're dead. I never would have done it if you hadn't rejected me. Why did you do that?"
Bolin started trembling and sank to his knees.
The apparitions wafted closer. "I was all alone when I died," said Shu, softly. "Where were you? Why weren't you there for me?"
"Yeah, Bo, where were you?" echoed Chan. "Why did you abandon us?"
Bolin jumped off of the floor and tore his nearest painting from the hut's wall, throwing it at the ghostly figures in front of him.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" he screamed, and stormed to his easel, tossing it against the opposite side of his room as if it were weightless.
Panting, Bolin picked up his paint board and hurled it against the far wall, splattering paint everywhere—the walls, ceiling, floor, and across several of his completed works. He turned around and pulled down two other paintings, tossing them into a heap on the ground. Shards of splintered board flew everywhere.
Exhausted Bolin dropped to the ground. He leaned against the wall and pulled up his knees up to his chest. Rocking a bit, he brought his head down to his chest as a few stray tears leaked from his eyes.
The doorknob turned and Mako's head appeared. "Bo?" he asked, eyes widening as he looked around the demolished room.
The green-eyed earthbender looked up, relief flooding through him when he realized the figures of Chan and Shu had disappeared once more.
"Hi." Bolin said, his voice unsteady. He cleared his throat. "Sorry…I…it was Chan and Shu. They wouldn't leave me alone. They…they were saying horrible things…"
Mako crossed the room and crouched down, wrapping his arms around Bolin tightly.
