He'd heard the phrase before, of course, but he'd never truly experienced it. He'd never "seen red". Not until now.
Obviously he'd been angry before. He'd been angry many times in his life, but he always kept himself in check. He tried to stay calm when he was mad, because there were things that could be said or things that could be done that he knew he would want to take back after the fact. Just because he demonstrated some self-control on a regular basis did not mean that he could not be angry. He kept it hidden, but it was there, bubbling below the surface, begging to become realized.
He'd been angry with Hiroshi when he discovered who he really was, when he discovered all the lies and deceit that he had wrapped himself up in to hide from Asami and Mako and the world his true loyalties.
He'd been angry with Bolin whenever he was childish or immature or ran into trouble without thinking of the consequences wrought upon the two of them. It had taken a long time for Mako to forgive Bolin for running off with the Triple Threats and scaring him so much, after all they'd been through.
And he'd been angry with Korra. Many times. It was always really easy for him to be angry with her, with her stubbornness and her arguments, with her presence and her strength and her ability to leave him speechless (even if it was her lips on his that had done the silencing). He was angry when he'd touched her hand and helped her into the Satomobile, intending a friendly gesture, but knowing it was something more when she smiled at him and called him a gentleman and he had this warm feeling in his chest that he knew should not be there. He'd been angry with her a lot. She drove him crazy, and part of him thought that she seemed to relish that about their strange relationship and all the ups and downs and wins and losses they'd experienced.
When Tenzin and Beifong came and broke them out of jail, his eyes had searched for her, combing through the darkness to see. He'd wanted to tell her that he was glad she listened to him this time, listened to him for once. Because it all turned out okay.
"Where's Korra?" Bolin had asked, voicing Mako's thoughts.
The empty, shifting look in Tenzin's weary eyes was all that he needed, and he was angry again. Angry that she wasn't there. Angry with whoever had taken her. But he did not see red. Not then.
When they'd returned to the island, he mounted Naga and rode off alone, using clues and Naga's senses to search for her, to search for Korra. Everyone told him to wait and be patient, but maybe he didn't have as much self-control as he always assumed. Maybe he didn't care. He was angry with them for trying to stop him, angry that they were trying to make him see reason. But he didn't see red then, not yet.
He saw red when he found her body, crumpled on the floor. He felt it now, something beyond anger: rage.
He sprinted across the wide room and slid on his knees to her because he couldn't get to her fast enough and he was so furious. He reached out to her arms, shaking her lightly, but her body remained limp, her eyes closed. He saw her then, he really saw her. He saw what had been done to her.
He first noticed the dark scabs on her face, the thin cuts that had healed days before. But there were other cuts, red ones. Dried blood, scary, dark, and red, had dripped down to her chin where it collected, having tracked a path down her neck. A huge, gaping hole had been made in her shirt, and her side was open, wounded, bleeding, warm. Her shirt was soaked in bright red. Hesitantly, he reached out and pressed his hand against the area. It was so fresh. Every area of her body seemed to have been attacked, been tortured. Bruises, cuts, wounds. Red.
He knew he was getting her blood on him, but he didn't care. He lifted her up slightly from the ground and pulled her close. Her body moved in an unnatural way, but no, she was alive. She was. She had to be. Her head fell against his shoulder and he held her there, whispering against her.
"Wake up, Korra. Please, wake up." He heard his voice, weak and afraid and furious and red.
She did not respond.
She did not wake.
Maybe it was because she wasn't listening to him again, just like always. Maybe it was because he'd lost control. He didn't know why it happened, but he realized something:
He was angry at many people.
But he was angriest at himself.
He was mad at himself for being dishonest with Asami, and hiding things from her that should have been revealed long ago. He was mad at himself for not being there for Korra, all those times that she needed the weight of the world lifted off her shoulders, even if it was just for a moment of rest. He'd seen glimpses of that pain, small reveals that she tried to keep hidden, and he just let her hide them. And he was mad at himself for letting Korra go, for letting her suffer and watch him be with Asami, for being mad at her when she just wanted someone to love her. He was mad that he'd never told her how much he really did…
How much he really did love her.
With one hand, he pulled his scarf off his neck and balled it up on the floor. He gently lowered Korra again, resting her head on the makeshift pillow. His breathing was rough and painful and he didn't know what to do anymore. He didn't know who to blame. He didn't know what was going to happen.
He stood and saw the red on his hands.
He saw red.
x.x.x.x
a/n: Oops? Not the best, I know, and kinda OOC but I wrote it an hour. Whatever. And hey, Mako, your Zuko is showing. OH WELL. I'M STILL DROWNING IN MY FEELS. LOOK AT ALL THE FUCKS I GIVE.