AN: So I was skimming through the prompts I have left and this one really struck my fancy. I love writing anything with the bending brothers (I'm really partial to a good sibling relationship tbh) so this seemed like an excellent opportunity to explore their relationship.

Requested by CarpeDiemEveryday

fire plus earth equals glass

Republic City wasn't exactly known for its plush beaches. Somewhere in the city's construction, the waters had become rather polluted and rocky. There weren't many spots that still held the beauty of the shorelines it had once been home to.

But the bending brothers had found a little cove-virtually untouched by the filthy fingers of the hard spun city. The sand was smooth and fine and black as onyx; the grains were remnants of a long forgotten fire and a mad king. During the summer months when the nights were balmy and the breeze from the sea brought a welcome coolness to their fevered skin, the brothers would sleep in the shelter of their hidden cove and bask in memories of a happier time.

Even homeless as they were, that cove offered a welcome home that they'd thought they lost. It wasn't much, in retrospect, but at the time it meant everything.

On one such balmy summer night, the brothers had built a fire on the untouched black sand. Or, rather, I should say that Mako built a fire while Bolin watched with rapt attention. Bolin had not yet grasped the concept that you could learn by experience rather than just by observation. Of course, he also assumed that Mako willed the fire into existence with his fire bending. That was not the case, of course. Mako didn't often resort to fire bending. The wounds were still too fresh and raw at the ripe age of ten. He only used his fire bending if he absolutely had to and even then, it was sparingly.

The fire still felt unsafe against his skin. A traitorous gift. Rather, a curse. He still cringed every time he snapped his fingers to light a flame.

"We used to come out here with mom and dad, right?" Bo noted uncertainly. He remembered the landscape very vaguely, like a dream he couldn't quite grasp. The images were just blurs and flashes, but the place had always felt familiar. Safe.

"Yeah, we did." Mako noted stoically. Their parents were a touchy subject with the elder boy. There were still days when Bolin would wake up and forget. He'd ask where mommy and daddy were. Mako didn't know how to respond on those days.

"I don't remember it." Bolin muttered quietly. He had a puzzled expression, like his hands longed to grasp at things that didn't exist. Mako let out an impatient sigh, his temper rising. The past two years had been something of an endless cycle. Bolin was always on the edge of tears, always wishing for their parents to return. Mako was on edge as well; he didn't know how many times he'd have to tell his brother the horrible truth before he started believing it.

He couldn't say he was surprised though. If he hadn't watched them die, he doubted he'd be able to grasp the concept himself.

"Perhaps that's better then." Mako noted quietly, stoking the flames with a stick. He tended their fire carefully, his eyes always watchful. One night it had almost spread to a nearby building. He couldn't afford to let it get away from him.

Bolin's lip quivered. "But I don't... I don't think I... Mako, I don't think I remember them either." His voice was weak and strained, the tears slipping silently down the apples of his cheeks.

Mako startled, his golden eyes wide and shocked. He blinked at his crying brother; no doubt a regular sight. But this was different. Something within him snapped and suddenly he regretted bringing his brother to this so-called safe place. A place that only served to remind Bolin that he didn't have parents and nor would he ever. His memories would fade so easily; the emptiness of that paralyzed the elder boy for several long minutes. He couldn't speak, couldn't think, could only stare across the fire at his younger brother and wonder how they'd reached this place.

Abruptly, Mako let out a strangled cry, his fist colliding with the sand. The fire burst into a small mushroom, startling Bolin to his back. Forks of lightning shot out in all directions. The elder of the two boys cried out in pain and then there was nothing but smoke and the dull crackle of flames.

Bolin sat up, his tears forgotten, and scrambled around the fire to examine Mako who seemed to be lightly singed. "Mako, are you alright?"

Mako sat up, wincing. He'd electrocuted himself a little, his knuckles bubbling with burns. He hissed through his teeth, tears barely hidden beneath his lashes. "I'm sorry, Bolin. I wish none of this had ever happened. I wish I could have saved them." Mako's voice was tight, all his restraint concentrated in holding back tears.

Mako was surprised when his brother embraced him, burying his little head in his shoulder. He looked up at Mako with a small smile. "It's okay, brother. I'm just glad we have each other." Mako couldn't help but smile back and hug Bolin tighter.

When they pulled away, the two finally scanned their surroundings.

In a haphazard circle stood dozens of beautiful glass figurines. Their spindly fingers reached into the sky, pointing just slightly towards where Bolin and Mako sat in the sand. They examined them with wide eyes. "Did I do that?" Mako asked in wonder.

"I think so. Hey, maybe we can sell them and get some dumplings for dinner tomorrow!"

Mako was lying if he said that smile didn't bring one to his own lips.