A/N: Sorry about the lack of fanfic updates lately. I've been meaning to write more. This week has been a struggle though, what with being sick and then the nightmare that was having to cancel my debit card due to thievery. Argh.
Rated: T for violence
Day 25 - Mad
All your loved ones are safely tucked into their beds. You know, because you made extra sure tonight, like you do every night. The baby was hard to put down again, but you figure that's just the way life is now with a three month old. Korra's exhausted, and all you want to do after a tough day at practice is to hold her in your arms and breathe the salty-sweet scent of her ocean-bathed skin and hair. It's the only way you're able to fall asleep at night, the only thing that calms you down, knowing that she's there and that this isn't some dream you've made up in your head.
You press a kiss to her forehead, her eyes fluttering shut as she drifts into sleep. Everything is right and good, the way it should be. You don't even remember closing your eyes…
Something startles you out of sleep. You and Korra are much lighter sleepers with the baby at home. Noises from your daughter's nursery are frequently calling you from sleep, but tonight feels different. You're not quite sure what it is. Korra stirs beside you, and you know that it's not because of her. Silence presses in on you as you strain your ears for noises, and it's the loudest sound you've ever heard.
Crash!
You and Korra are out of bed in a heartbeat, racing down the hall as your daughter begins a high-pitched scream. Korra's faster than you and reaches the nursery first. She pulls up short, and you nearly bump into her before you spot him, the gangly man with the frog-like goggles and your baby in his arms.
Korra is too stunned to move, her eyes widened in terror. But not you. All those years lived on the streets, and the hours of training you've endured for the arena have turned you into a weapon.
You don't even think, you just react.
Someone lets out an enraged roar – that's you, you realize – and you overturn all the furniture blocking the way between yourself and the intruder. You don't even know how you got there, don't even remember moving at all. The Equalist scrambles for the open window with your daughter in tow, but before he has a chance to escape your fist meets his jaw, sending him sprawling on the floor. The baby lets out a terrified shriek that pierces your heart and your ears. Korra rushes to scoop the baby into her arms as you advance on your daughter's attempted kidnapper. Like the roach that he is, he's up in an instant, clambering to make another escape.
The house begins to shake, and the stone ceiling suddenly rips apart, nearly burying you and your loved ones in the debris. Dust blocks your vision. Blood trickles down the side of your face from a wound on your head where a jagged lump of stone struck you, though you feel no pain.
Someone coughs. Korra. "Bolin?" she croaks over your daughter's cries. "Bolin?!"
You don't answer. Can't.
The Equalist lies before you, crushed beneath rubble, bloodied and barely breathing. You're still shaking when Korra's hand falls gently on your shoulder. You glance back only to find Korra holding your daughter. She's thankfully unharmed, cradled protectively against Korra's chest. Your daughter's muffled whimpers are a shock to your ears, like a wave crashing over your head, which pulls you out of the dark realm you've fallen into, thrust back into the ruins of your daughter's nursery.
"Bolin…?" Korra whispers tentatively. No doubt she's too horrified by what you've done to speak.
There's never any kind of warning for this sort of thing. It's always a blindside, when you've got your back turned and you think everything in your life is going right. It's one second that steals the breath from your lungs and strangles the life out of you.
And you don't know what you've become.
So when Korra curls up in the space of your arms whispers thank you thank you thank you in a trembling voice, you bury your face in her neck and just breathe.