A/n: Welcome back! Many thanks to those who read and reviewed last chapter... you're a spot of sunlight in an otherwise depressing fic!

Please see the first chapter for an extensive list of warnings, as well as a general disclaimer.

Thanks especially to wherewulf, aka one of the most insightful, talented, and kind betas (people) I have ever known!

Part IV

The arrival of their completed paperwork a few days later wrought no visible reaction out of Mako; inwardly he allowed himself one good sigh of relief. Training began immediately. Mako realized that he and the Waterbender didn't click very well as people, but as long as they could manage as team mates, he couldn't complain. Apparently Hasook was friends with some members from another team—the Wolfbats, who hailed from White Falls and made the Pro Bending arena look like a crime scene—but as there was already a talented Waterbender on board, he'd been shirked and sent to try out as a single player. He was quite bitter about it, which was very annoying to Mako as it often yielded long-winded tangents about how they didn't stand a chance against the Wolfbats and may as well not try. He was prone to missing practice, or showing up in the morning with his sobriety in debatable condition. After his fourth absence, he and Mako got into such a shouting match that Bolin had to physically step between them and stop a fist fight. Afterward, Hasook's attendance became much more consistent. Slowly, with constant effort, the Fire Ferrets began to find their rhythm as a team.

Because it was the best source of entertainment for many people (and a huge money-maker for the city, drawing spectators from all over the country), the Pro Bending season lasted for most of the year. It began with a month of training for all of the teams, then launched into several more months of matches, and finally ended with a huge tournament. The Fire Ferrets suffered huge losses at the start of the season. More experienced teams tossed them into the drink like an afterthought. Mako became legitimately worried about their prospects.

They did, however, have some advantages. None of the team dealt with stage fright, a plague that could send an unsuspecting player into a full-blown panic attack. Quite the contrary, Bolin loved being at the center of attention and used it to his advantage. He got a spot on a sports radio show, where he dramatically told the story of his and Mako's struggle out on the streets and won the team a bit of fame. Soon the Fire Ferrets had a small but dedicated following Bolin's fangirls, mostly) who wanted to see the underdogs succeed. And though Mako would never admit that the crowd's support helped boost his confidence, he discovered that the team began winning much more often when he could hear their names in the crowd.

The money helped, too, of course. The trouble with that was that suddenly the brothers had bills to pay, and after the winnings had been picked clean by Hasook, the landlord, and the grocery store, there was nothing left for Mako's savings. All the more motivation to keep winning the games, he thought.

Soon one month had passed, and then another, and the Fire Ferrets started resembling a functional set. The media responded with fascination, inspired by Bolin's storytelling. Sports radio hosts were talking about the Fire Ferrets far more than they usually did for rookie teams. They thought the team was oddly charming, with its animated Earthbender, soft spoken Waterbender, and super-serious Firebender. For weeks they raved about the team's improvements, all the while dissecting the players' personalities as if they were fictional characters in a book or show. Much to Mako's confusion, they were especially interested in him. He was the team captain, who was perfectly capable of talking in interviews but shied away from the media's bright light. Even more puzzling was his gameplay. There was something about the way he moved, something in his look. Eventually, one of the reporters had an epiphany:

"I'll tell you what it is," said the reporter over the radio, while Bolin and Mako wiped down the gym equipment for Toza. "Earlier today you heard my interview with Jiun from the Mooselions, and he said something that really struck me. He said that when you play the Ferrets, and you're giving everything you've got, there's nothing you can do to faze Mako. He just comes at you with this—this blank expression, and this complete lack of fear. You smack 'im down and he just gets back up, you hit him with a wall of rock and it's like he doesn't even feel it. He' got nothing to lose and everything to gain, and the result of that is just… it's terrifying! Mako may not be able to keep the Ferrets in line, but let me tell you what, the kid's a master of self control. I'll bet he's one heck of a Lightningbender."

Some of the other media outlets were less sensitive in their descriptions. One article flat-out said Mako was probably so cool under pressure because he'd gotten his childhood beaten out of him on the streets. Toza seemed to think along the same lines, though his approach was far more constructive. The gym manager caught Mako leaving practice one morning and asked him if he had ever Bended lightning. Mako told him that he had learned the forms, but never tried for fear of hurting himself or somebody else. Toza grunted and crossed his arms and said it was a damn shame, that Mako would probably be spectacular and that it was a great source of income for some people. All Mako could do was shrug one shoulder; if he'd had the money for lessons, he would have learned years ago. And Toza, being far kinder than he appeared while screaming at teenagers who snuck into matches, said money was no good reason to abandon it. Fifty years ago, he said, those in need could always pursue mastery of the art. It was a more honorable system than they had now, where lessons went to those who could pay the cost. Toza said that he had a friend who owed him a favor and, leaving Mako standing confusedly in the gym, departed from the building at once.

Toza's friend was a woman about Toza's age, who agreed to show Mako the basics of Lightning Bending free of charge. Mako was humbled by this arrangement, thanking the woman so many times that she eventually told him to shut up. She had him demonstrate what he already knew. Mako went through the forms that Bolin had written down all those months ago, slipping through the motions with well-rehearsed ease. In just a few hours he had tweaked his poses to near perfection and learned the physical science behind the art. Two days later, while standing with his teacher and Bolin in an open rock-ball field, Mako felt lightning leave his fingers for the first time. It was exhilarating and terrifying and sent him shooting backward across the grass. As Bolin helped him struggle to his feet, the master declared that he was a natural. For the next months, Mako spent any and all free time practicing. He skipped meals to go out and toss bolts into the sky. He reviewed the forms every morning before he and Bolin went jogging, and again just before bed.

He couldn't be sure why the lightning came so easy to him, sprung out from his fingertips as if it had been waiting inside him all along. The master said that only those with true peace of mind could Bend lightning. With so much stress surrounding him at all times, Mako didn't think his mind was particularly peaceful. Then again, she also referred to lightning as the cold-blooded fire. Mako thought back to the darker part of his life and remembered how easy it used to be to reach inside and shut down. Even now, it was easy. Maybe after all these years, he had locked himself out and forgotten where he'd stashed the key.

But no matter. The past had doubtless impaired him, but now it had given him a means of moving forward. Within a few months he had all but mastered the technique, and used this new talent to pick up shifts at the power plant. With a little extra money for the brothers' savings, Mako refocused his energy on the Pro Bending season. The Fire Ferrets earned more victories than losses thanks to tireless practice and a bit of luck. The tournament loomed closer, hovering over their heads at all hours of the day. Two days before the match that would decide if they qualified for the tournament, Mako and Hasook got into a verbal dispute over Hasook's attitude that almost escalated into physical violence. Once again Bolin rescued his teammates from a potential hospital trip, desperately trying to blame their frazzled nerves on the match rather than their dislike for one another. They narrowly won their next match, with almost no help from Hasook.

On the night of the qualifier, when the no-good-no-show abandoned his team and the brothers had all but given up, Korra gave them another chance. He had been annoyed by her appearance in the team room, and then embarrassed by his obvious lack of tact, and finally… a little bit overwhelmed by her presence. The way she came on, he was at first convinced that her surplus of excitement meant that she was one of Bolin's fangirls. Only once he realized that this was none other than the new Avatar did her strange demeanor make sense. Korra was strong, beautiful, friendly, and shoved her way right into Mako's life without his permission. He wasn't sure how to deal with such an unexpected (and, frankly, distracting) visitor, but Mako willed himself not to forget the reason they had come this far in the season. Whatever superficial reaction he might have to her, any and all feelings were irrelevant.

Having Korra on the team meant that the Fire Ferrets had to make some serious adjustments to their team strategy, and that was the extent to which Mako was willing to acknowledge their relationship. Unfortunately, it became difficult to separate his work-related thoughts of Korra to… casually-related thoughts. After some finagling they found she fit in with the brothers much better than Hasook had (though Hasook had been so difficult toward the end that all Korra had to do was show up and she did a better job). Mako admired her talent and reveled in her spirit, but he soon realized that his admiration was not wholly professional and, almost without realizing it, he overcompensated by being even more terse than usual. Korra didn't put up with his attitude, but Bolin blamed it on stress and said that as long as they got through the tournament, he didn't care how grumpy Mako got.

Bad news from Butakha brought disaster, which began with Bolin putting on a Pabu circus and ended with his near demise alongside many of Mako's former co-workers. Standing alongside Korra at the Equalist rally, seeing grown men publicly humiliated and traumatized while his brother inched forward in line toward losing his Bending, was undeniably the worst moment of Mako's life—worse even than the night the Firebender killed his parents and let him live to remember it. He almost didn't have the extra mind space to process what Amon was doing. One by one, the gangsters stood and fought and lost. With their Bending gone, they sank down against the floorboards and wept until the Equalists scraped them up and dragged them away. Mako found himself alarmingly unsurprised. Amon would never allow for them to fight if there was a chance of victory. Of course they lost. They had to lose.

Mako had not forgotten that the Triple Threat Triad had kept him from starvation, nor did he forget that Lightning Bolt Zolt had offered him up to the monsters and kept the profits for himself. He watched Zolt's demise, watched his infamous lightning dwindle to fire and then to smoke. Zolt drooped to the ground, helpless and feeble and defeated by someone who had allowed him to fight but known he would not win. Mako watched, and he did not look away.

Somehow Mako upheld his composure—he would never understand how he did it, but only his task-oriented brain could have done it—until later that night, when Korra dropped the brothers off at their home. Only once they crossed the apartment's threshold did Mako realize how close he had come to losing his brother. He turned around and saw Bolin frozen just inside the doorway, cradling Pabu in one arm while the other stood him upright against the wall. Bolin, who made jokes to chase the world's terrors away, had flushed red with shock. The rush of urgency was draining from their veins, taking with it their energy and strength. Mako looked hard at his brother and felt himself begin to tremble. A long silence ensued.

Bolin saw the panic rising in Mako and tried to make save him. "Today was fun, wasn't it?" he said, but his voice caught halfway and he pressed his fist to his mouth to stifle a sob.

Shaking his head, Mako strode across the gap so fast that Pabu barely had time to scurry away before Mako had engulfed his brother in a gorilla-bear hug. Bolin melted. He bawled into Mako's shoulder, fast breaths hitching with near hyperventilation as he tried again and again to apologize. Mako took Bolin's apologies and passed them back tenfold. His knees gave out, sending them sinking to the wooden floor, spilling hot tears down his face and chin until they were both too tired to cry anymore.

With Bolin safe and the tournament deadline approaching, Mako returned to the puzzle that was his debt to Butakha. He had tried every tactic he could think of, pored over books in the library for any sort of clue, asked Toza and the other Benders in the tournament for their insight, but to no success. The bank had laughed at him and had him escorted from the building. He had no contacts for potential sponsorships. The only friends he had were just as poor as he. There was no amount of working odd jobs or fundraising that could get him thirty thousand yuans within a few days. All he had, aside from robbing a bank, was one option. Just days before the payment deadline, Mako stepped out of the factory where he had worked a long night shift. At the first intersection he walked in the direction opposite his apartment, dutifully ignoring the throbbing of his tired feet.

In the midst of rush hour, nobody noticed Mako drop out of the crowd and slip into the Triad's headquarters. To the unknowing onlooker the building's façade looked as it always did, like a neglected and standoffish bar. Inside, the remnants of the Equalist ambush were still scattered across the room. Someone had righted the tables and chairs and thrown a tarp over the hole in the wall, but broken glass ground between Mako's shoes and the flooring as he stepped through the entrance. The place was unguarded, empty save for him and just one other person.

Taro, who had been standing over the bar counter with his head bent over a book, looked up at the sound of Mako's footfalls. His perplexed expression quickly settled into an amused half-smirk. The change gave Mako an instant and overwhelming urge to flee, but he kept his feet planted where they were. Ignoring Taro's pleasantries, Mako asked to speak to whoever was in charge now. Taro opened his arms and looked around, as if searching for Lightning Bolt Zolt under one of the tables. He said that in case Mako hadn't heard, Zolt and several of the higher-ups were going to be away for a while, and in the meantime Taro was looking after the business. Then he asked what Mako wanted.

One deep breath later, Mako he told Taro of the deal he'd made with Zolt. He explained how his victory in the tournament meant a cut of the winnings for the Triad, and that all he needed to make it happen was a loan of thirty thousand yuans. He'd done the books for several months and knew they had more than enough to make it happen. Should he win, he could pay it back in full plus five percent more than what he'd originally promised Zolt. If not, he could come back as bookkeeper and earn back what he had lost. No doubt the Equalists had driven a hole into the organization. They could probably use a little extra help. Taro picked up the pencil he'd been using in the book and bit down on the eraser as he pondered Mako's proposal. After several moments, he tapped it against the page in his book. He asked Mako to step behind the counter and tell him if these numbers sounded right.

Ducking around tables and debris as he went, Mako strode across the room. He slipped behind the counter alongside Taro, accepted the pencil when it was handed to him, and skimmed the information on the page. Whoever took over Mako's position appeared to be incompetent. The first few lines mimicked the format Mako had used for his equations and layout, but in half a page the writing had devolved into practically nonsense. Mako began scribbling, half-listening to the sound of Taro rummaging through the cabinets behind him, glasses clinking, the splash of liquid in a cup. Taro took a noisy sip of whatever he had poured and sighed contentedly. He asked Mako what he thought. Mako answered that he was looking at a disaster. There was a dull thud as Taro set his glass on the countertop and peered over Mako's shoulder at the book. Mako took this as invitation to explain and, pointing to the sums with the pencil tip, began to recount the mistakes the previous user had made. When he was done with that, he leapt straight into correcting the math.

Taro took a sip of his drink, set it back down, asked in a half-jesting tone if Mako wanted his job back. Only if the Fire Ferrets lost the tournament, said Mako, though privately he thought that rejoining the Triad was below fleeing the country on his list of options.

Taro chuckled. "We'll see about that. The deal needs a little…work," he said, and only then did Mako realize that he could smell the alcohol on Taro's breath.

Mako froze. In his periphery he could see that Taro had set a hand on either side of Mako, effectively trapping the Firebender between himself and the countertop. He swallowed back the rising panic and asked, very calmly, what Taro was doing.

"When the boss changes, the rules change," Taro said, reaching around Mako to close the budget book. "You'll get your cash, no problem. But I'm gonna need a little more than your good word. I'm gonna need a little…" He shuffled forward, pinning Mako against the countertop with his hips, pressing against his back so Mako could feel Taro's lips on his ear when he whispered, "insurance."

Mako had no idea what Taro had been expecting, but it probably wasn't the sharp spike of pain that followed when Mako drove the pencil straight into the other man's thigh. Howling, Taro stumbled backward just in time to catch Mako's fist against his jaw. He fell back again, ducked a second swing, and landed a punch in the center of Mako's chest before toppling over sideways. Mako, too, fell to the floor with a sharp gasp, but he jumped back to his feet without pausing to regain his breath. Apparently the time he spent fighting his brother had done him some good—being pummeled with Earthbended discs in practice had rendered him all but immune to the shock of physical hits. The fourteen year old that Taro had so easily overpowered was gone.

"What, are you gonna zap me?" Taro spat. Mako glanced down and realized that he had assumed a stance to Bend lightning. Mako watched Taro pull the pencil from his thigh and toss it aside, all without breaking eye contact. Taro laughed. "Get your sorry ass out of here, Zolt Junior, before I kill you."

A large part of Mako wanted to stay and fight. Frowning down at the co-conspirator in four years of misery, Mako trembled with the want to put a bolt of lightning right through this man's ribcage. It would be so simple, so terribly easy to kill this man and dash out the back door without being spotted. And though Mako suspected doing so was now in the realm of things he could do, he didn't. Instead he backed around the bar counter, slowly, poised to attack, and dropped his stance only when he disappeared back into the traffic outside. He had to catch the first trolley back to the arena, and he had to do it fast. For once, his objections to spending precious money were overruled by alarm.

Mako could feel the panic attack coming on. He was outdoors, under the safeguard of a public setting with the morning sun bright in the sky, but his chest still cramped under the strain of his frantic heart rate. Mako walked, closed his eyes and tried to regain control over his breathing. He was going to be okay. They were almost certainly out of the tournament now, though. Maybe he ought to have reconsidered instead of acting out in—no, what was he thinking? Mako rubbed his face and growled to himself and ignored the woman who started in alarm at the sound. By the time he reached the block with the trolley station, he was still shaken but no longer on the brink of a public meltdown. Nervously he tossed the frayed end of his scarf over his shoulder and looked over toward the station, where he stopped dead upon seeing that the trolley had started to drive away. Mako darted out into the street, intent on getting close enough to hop on the caboose—

Wham.

Asami Sato's entrance into Mako's life was not a particularly graceful moment for either of them. Mako went flying across the road, the dull ache in his solar plexus now forgotten under the impact of a moving moped. Even with hindsight, he couldn't explain what had prompted his reaction. He suspected that after a long shift at the factory and his close encounter with the Triple Threat Triad his emotions were flying out of control about his head, and they latched on to the first good thing that he saw. She took him over, a full-body invasion of his better judgment, and he'd brushed off her apology before he'd even heard it. He stared, both hyper-aware of his senses and of the soot covering most of his body, as she invited him to dinner.

Mako had learned many things during his stolen childhood, few of which were more important than this: There are some things you did not turn down after a lifetime of financial struggle, and one of them was a free meal. Especially when this meal was with a gorgeous woman who happened to think being a Pro Bender meant something. Mako accepted the date because it was a meal and because Asami may have been the most stunning person who had ever given him a speck of attention. He was surprised when they got along right away despite their different backgrounds, and even more so when the next day she and her father offered to sponsor the Fire Ferrets under the Future Industries name. She assured him that even though he accepted the sponsorship, he needn't feel obligated to see her anymore, not if he didn't want to. He accepted her next invitation for a date (a walk around the park) and from then on they were dating.

Mako had never dated. He'd spent a good deal of time with Nikka in the short-lived years of the night crew, had chatted and flirted with different people over the years, but he had never been committed like this. It was strange, he thought, to report to someone other than himself and Bolin at the end of the day. Even stranger was that his free time was no longer spent reading or hanging out with Bolin, but rather wrapped up in whatever Asami had planned for them. Usually Bolin was invited on these excursions, but he only ever agreed to come along when there was food involved, and sometimes not even then.

Mako had a nervous inkling that the two of them were going to move right along the expected path, and indeed, less than a week after he and Asami became an official couple, Asami invited him to stay when he dropped her off at the estate. When he wondered aloud how Hiroshi would feel about this sleepover, she answered that he was in Ba Sing Se for a conference that weekend. And anyway, she said, if her father were home he could just climb up to her room via the garden ladder out back. She'd done it hundreds of times. Casting one last wary look around, checking to see if any of the estate's staff were still up at this late hour, Mako followed Asami up the stairs. He phoned Toza at the arena and asked him to tell Bolin he'd be back in the morning (Toza agreed only after chastising Mako for calling so bloody late).

He'd never been in Asami's bedroom before. It was as grandiose as the rest of the estate, at least twenty times the size of Mako and Bolin's alleyway shelter and a thousand times more decorated. He was sure that if she turned out the lights he could get lost in here, like it was a suburb of the city itself. The bed could easily fit the two of them five times over, it was so spacious. There was furniture that Mako didn't know the names of, and probably couldn't pronounce if he'd read them in a book. They removed their shoes upon entering and tucked them behind the door.

The room was in a remote section of the house, far from guest rooms, the staff's quarters, and the master bedroom. Arms hanging limply at his sides, Mako stood in the doorway as Asami flitted about the room, turning the radio to a quiet music station and grabbing a stack of magazines off the book shelf. She turned around, grinning broadly at him as she headed for the couch, and asked if he'd ever read Benders Illustrated. He hadn't, but he'd heard of it and Bolin had done an interview for the team a few months back. The subscription was twelve yuans a month or something equally absurd. Asami said she'd been reading it since she was ten years old. It was her favorite magazine, and she'd had covered the bedroom walls with articles and photos if it wasn't harmful to the wallpaper.

The moment Mako joined her on the couch, she shot up to her feet and announced she'd forgotten to grab drinks from the kitchen. Mako said that it was all right, he didn't need one, but she disappeared nonetheless and returned about a minute later with two glasses of soda pop. She told him to put his feet up as she grabbed a small table and dragged it over, then set the drinks down and sidled up right next to him.

Benders Illustrated was just as great as she'd said it was, with its glossy photos (some even hand-painted with color) and in-depth analysis of the teams. He was startled to see an image of himself, Bolin, and Hasook accompanying Bolin's interview on the Fire Ferrets. He read through this and more, holding the magazine out so Asami could see the pages from where she sat beside him. They repositioned several times until they were comfortable. Finally they wound up with Asami propping the magazine on her bent knees so that they could read while she snuggled into Mako's shoulder. All of this hard work was soon wasted, though. Within minutes the magazines lay abandoned in a pile and the couple had moved on to kissing instead. They had done this before but never like this, never with such a need to get close that their teeth bumped and their breaths hitched and their hands got tangled up. Asami rolled over on top of him, propping her weight on one arm and brushing her long hair out of the way. Then, still seeking his lips, his throat, she shifted up until she was straddling his lap. Mako's hands sought her thighs and rolled her forward. She responded to his touch by rocking against his hips, so smooth and so slow that he groaned against her mouth.

But something about the sound awakened the dormant terror in Mako's chest. Asami's solid weight was suddenly as stifling as it was stimulating, and for a moment he wasn't sure where he was. Gently, he set a hand on Asami's shoulder and eased her away from him. Their eyes met, instantly reorienting him in place. A relieved sigh escaped. Mako smiled, reaching up to brush Asami's hair behind her ears. She giggled. She probably should have taken off her lipstick, she said, but she thought he wore it well. Coral red was definitely his color. Glad for an excuse to step away, Mako excused himself to the bathroom where he locked the door out of habit and leaned over the sink to catch his breath.

Mako wiped away the smeared lipstick with a wet hand towel and tossed it aside. He braced his hands against the cool marble of the counter. His flushed reflection in the mirror surprised him, made him straighten up. There was no need to look so petrified. He was safe here, far away from the neighborhood where he had spent many nights as dark as this. Mako used his sleeve to rub off the last bit of red in the corner of his mouth and told himself to toughen up. He was almost nineteen years old, a grown man, and he had done this before. Granted, he had never done it with any semblance of normalcy, but he knew how it worked. All he had to do was keep his thoughts in line and the rest should follow naturally, pulled up out of his muscles like returning to an old habit.

He must have stood there for longer than he thought, for a soft knock on the door startled him out of his mental pep talk. From the other side, Asami asked him if everything was all right. He announced that he'd be out in a minute, then splashed his face under the faucet and towel-dried his hands. When he re-entered the room, Asami had just tossed a lipstick-stained napkin into the bin beside her bed. In his absence she had dimmed the lights and set out some supplies on the bedside table. She turned, saw him watching her, and timidly asked if he was sure he was all right. Mako didn't miss the implication behind the question. To reassure her of his intentions, he crossed over to where she stood and, cradling her face in his palms, kissed her.

"Yes," he said. "I'm very sure."

Asami beamed up at him. "Well then, what are we standing around for?"

Asami stuck the tips of her fingers into the back of Mako's waistband. Then, in a quick gesture, she dragged them around to the front until she had jerked his hips forward. Their thighs bumped together. The bed caught Mako around the back of the knees and he toppled backwards over it, landing with a surprised gasp on the springy mattress. He propped himself up on his elbows to watch her pull her shirt over her head. And then, when he could no longer bear to stand idle, he tugged her down beside him and did the rest of her clothes himself.

xXx

TBC