Vulnerability Pt. 1
A YEAR AND A HALF AGO
She couldn't-
She grunted. She couldn't move her toes. She moved forward by sheer fear of death, resting her weight against the shoulder of a younger boy.
Behind them undead oozed from the homes of the suburban city. Housewives in pink now stained with blood. Children with bicycle helmets now limping on broken limbs.
She saw all of this but didn't process it. Her mind kept returning to the simple fact that she couldn't move her toes. She couldn't move her foot.
She hadn't realized it had been broken when she took the fall. She'd gotten up only to have it give out from under her.
And now she relied on this boy to support her weight as they hobbled free of the suburban home. They had to reach the small convoy they traveled with outside the gated community. It was a small distance away, but when you are cradling someone with undead advancing on you like the magma of a volcano then that distance might as well be several hundred miles. Matters become worse when you knew you'd have to climb a fence to get out of the gated in homes.
The young boys father watched his only son work to bring the injured woman to safety. He watched the undead advance on them once they reached the fence and came to the real challenge: how would he get the girl over the fence?
Suddenly he father began to instruct the boy. He instructed him as she would have the moment she'd seen her ankle gave out.
"Leave her! Son, you have to leave her!" The boy's father instructed.
"Dad, I-,"
The boy looked over at the young woman. He looked to his father. His face torn as the undead closed in.
Some of the convoy began pulling away, most of them not able to see any way out except for the obvious: leave her.
"I'm so sorry." The boy said. He leaned over. Shrugging the woman off his shoulder and onto the ground, he began climbing the fence.
His father embraced him once he landed on the other side of the tall fence then shoved him into the car and shut the door, "Go!"
She listened to them leave, their accelerating wheels kicking up a dustbowl around her, not daring to look because doing so would cause her to cry.
She didn't want to cry.
Nor did she want to die.
But there were two dozen undead and only one her, with a broken ankle and only four bullets to her name. She was going to die here abandoned, alone.
With effort she pushed into a seated position and took out her .45 caliber then aimed. Not for the undead. But placed the barrel against her skull.
Four bullets in her clip. She was sure of it.
She would only need one.
The first undead reached her within seconds. He dropped to his knees, extending his decayed fingers and placed them on either side of her face, unhinging his jaw and letting out an almost gleeful hiss.
She ignored him and settled on the task at hand.
She would only need one.
This was mercy. She could end this nightmare now. Just pull the trigger.
The undead's spittle dripped down her face. It's putrid breath assaulting her as he drew his meal into his mouth slowly, without a fight. A second undead arrived, hastily taking her thigh into his hands, lowering himself to the ground.
End it, she heard her thoughts say, end it before you're bitten. Don't become one of the. Don't turn.
But she couldn't. She turned the gun to the real enemy and felt satisfaction when she heard two reverberating cracks.
It cost her two of her last four bullets.
She would only need the one…
The third undead pounced, jumping on top of her. His hand clamped down on her armed hand, his legs weighing heavily atop her good ankle as he pinned her to the ground. He turned his head and unhinged beginning to sink into her. She took a breath, knowing what needed to be done. She slipped her one free leg up between their bodies then using her broken angle she kicked him off her body.
The world dimmed as an unholy amount of pain spiked from the nerves in her ankle and traveled to her brain. They all screamed at her to never ever do that again. The undead recoiled and launched himself. He was met with a small half foot knife impaling the side of his head and bringing him to the ground.
Without waiting for her to recover, two more undead arrived simultaneously. She only needed the one bullet. She blasted the closest of the two and rolled aside quickly to avoid the third. He fell on the ground beside her, his momentum to much for his rag doll limbs to catch himself. Looking over at his ever quick pray, he opened his mouth and hissed. She landed two quick, firm jabs in his eye socket, each time feeling his skull cave beneath her hand.
One bullet, she thought. I only need the one.
She was charged by three undead.
The first unhinged at her foot. He was stronger than most others. He pulled his meal into his mouth, grabbing her broken ankle and pulling it off the ground. She screamed as he went to consume her. it was like they understood it was he weakness. She hesitated, the pain excruciating. She could put herself down. it would be her last chance. Or she could kill the motherfucker. She raised her gun and fired.
His body jerked aside, dropping to the ground heavily.
She stifled a scream as her ankle made contact with the earth. Why had she done that? Why hadn't she blown herself away?
The second and third attackers were on her so quickly then. She grabbed the first by his arm. It was waterlogged and slipped clean from his body. She extended her knife, cutting his hamstring. Bringing him to a height she could handle him from. She grabbed him by his water logged neck. With a balled fist around her knife she punched through his neck. The watery mess snapped and splatter her in his watery blood and heavily decayed insides.
All of this took just moments too long. The second undead arrived and nestled his head into her stomach. She saw him moments to late. She shut her eyes readied for his teeth to sink in. her luck had run out.
She kenw what came next. She's witnessed it a thousand times before. She would now get to see her insides be turned outside, to watch her own body become the lifeless meal of the undead.
She'd become an undead.
She wished she had another bullet.
She opened her eyes, expecting to see her body being devoured. She expected to see the clammy grayscale skin of an undead as it crammed her warmth into his mouth. Instead she found the reflective surface of a sword slicing through the air spinning ferociously as it sent the undead reeling back from it's pray. She saw the beast split open from its navel and up to his jaw.
The sword belonged to a woman with dark silver hair and green eyes that concealed a frightening amount of intelligence. Her moves were smooth as if she weren't battling and onslaught of undead but dancing to a song that the younger woman found herself wanting to hear.
She worked two broad swords in her hands, catching an undead and burying her blade into its stomach. She twirled around his body, using her second broadsword to slip the corpse from her blade with fast work. She cut down a second undead in the same motion, using her momentum to remove its head from its body then redirected her motion into disemboweling a third and cutting the legs out from under a fourth.
She watched the strange woman moving, she couldn't take her eyes from her graceful measure. She didn't even hear the two boys cut away at the fence with massive clippers. She only felt them when they grabbed her arms, and for a moment she'd feared the worst. But when she looked up at the two similar faces she felt relief in that they were human. Together, they lifted her off the ground.
They put her into a car then turned to the woman fighting so valiantly to hold off the undead. "Mom!" They called in unison.
The woman glanced at the two twin boys, finished off the undead she'd run her sword through the mouth of and retreated to the car, hustling through the break in the fence and leaping into the backseat of the car, "They're gonna take this fence down. Go! Go!"
Tenzin stood over Suyin. He extended a canteen then made a nodding motion to the younger woman, "How's our patient?"
"Her ankle is broken. I can't tell you much more than that without the proper equipment. Even if I could, we don't have the proper materials to make her a cast."
Tenzin sighed with exasperation, "Make a list and we'll have them start searching for the things we need." He looked over at the young woman who had endured so much that day. Realizing she could very well hear the conversation - they were after all in the same tent – he spoke to her kindly, "You just do your best to recover. With Suyin, you're in great hands." He then exited the tent his voice carrying from outside the flap as he shouted, "Meelo! Get down from there!"
Suyin turned back to the young woman who reclined her head against the elevated bed she lay in. Her head was slightly inclined and rest against a tattered pillow. Suyin hadn't cleaned the woman's bloody face because like everything Su offered the woman had refused. She'd refused a bath. She'd refused Ibuprofen. She'd even refused Suyin's offer for an examination. Now she refused to make eye contact.
"I'm sorry." Suyin said some time later, "I'm sorry your group left you behind like that."
"They owed me nothing."
Suyin peered at the woman, "You deserve to be treated better than that."
Quietly she whispered, "No. I don't."
Suyin didn't react to this. She simply moved to a small tub of lukewarm water and began dipping a towel.
As water was strained from the fabric she spoke, "When you were on the ground with a dozen undead coming to make a meal of you, you didn't curse those who had left you behind. And all those years ago when the people who were supposed to love you instead broke and abandoned you, you didn't allow it destroy you."
The woman looked at her sharply then. Her eyes squinting, was her history written so plainly on her face? She worked so hard to keep her face neutral and passive. But this woman had read her as if she'd written the pages of a book on her forehead.
Suyin continued, "Just like back then, just like today you aimed your weapon and you fought back. You didn't ask for a savior. You saved yourself."
She made her way to the woman's bedside. The woman's eyes had become glassy and she turned them away hoping Suyin hadn't seen.
Suyin snatched her jaw allowing her fingers to press into fresh wounds, "Whatever they did to you is done. You can't change it and you're never going to fully recover from it. It's not fair. But women like us who are born with odds stacked in favor of our enemies, we always choose to point our guns at the onslaught. Even when it's easier to put bullets in our own brains." She placed the damp cloth into the woman's line of sight and spoke again with gravel inflection, "Now clean your damn face and stop wallowing in self pity. Women like us don't get to be vulnerable, Kuvira. Not anymore."
PRESENT
Korra wasn't sure when it had happened. Only that it was some time after her reaching for her water bottle at the same time Asami had reached for hers. Some time after Asami jerked her hand away. Somewhere between that moment and what followed next something had changed.
Korra had clenched her jaw, leaning away from Asami the best she could in the confined space of the vehicle. She'd crossed her arms and pouted. But it hadn't been enough. She was still pestered with questions. Why had Asami told her she felt romantic feelings for her if she were just going to become so unbearably awkward together? Why not just leave her emotions unreciprocated until she was sure that she wanted to be in a relationship?
These thoughts crashed through her mind so quickly that she had just barely caught the way Asami had begun biting her lip. She'd come to understand that look. It meant Asami was thinking about something and Korra, had come to consider this face Asami's sexiest - which was saying something considering how irresistible she found Asami in the first place.
She kept one hand on the steering wheel and reached out the other closest to Korra. Asami's fingers found their way to Korra's balled fist and her cool fingers pried Korra's hand free of her folded arms before intertwining with Korra's abnormally warm and calloused hands.
Asami smiled despite herself as her cheeks steamed through dark and darker shades of red. Korra's breath caught in her throat as she indulged in how cool Asami's skin always felt next to hers. How smooth and soft.
"Korra," Asami said a while later. Korra had turned her seat, getting closer to Asami. Forgiving her for jerking away merely fractions of a second after she'd begun holding Korra's hand. Now Korra sandwiched Asami's hands with her fingers tracing them absentmindedly as she gazed at the raven haired woman. A term came to mind:
Whipped.
"Mm?" Korra asked.
"There's something you should know," She paused, "About Kuvira."
A different kind of uneasiness set in her stomach, "What about her?"
Asami struggled to say, "She surrendered."
"What do you mean?"
"Back at the camp, when you-," Asami broke off knowing Korra couldn't bare thinking about who she'd killed, "When the gunmen came she surrendered to them without a fight. Mako and the others fought back best they could so we could get away but Kuvira – she just surrendered."
She wanted to be angry but the simple truth was she was sadder for Suyin. Suyin had taken Kuvira under her wing. She'd pulled Kuvira's weight those first few months while Kuvira recovered. She taught her how to hunt better, fight better, how to endure longer.
Betraying Korra tainted one of the main reasons Korra put up with Kuvira: because Su had asked her to. Now Korra wasn't so sure Suyin would instruct the same. To continue to put up with the woman who seemed to break everything she touched was one thing. But when the woman started breaking things intentionally that was another.
Korra took back Asami's hands in hers, trying to rid herself of the unpleasant thoughts.
She began tracing the scars in Asami's hands. She still had splinters under her skin in some places, and the biggest ones had left scars. Now it was Korra's turn to nibble on her lip and wonder if Asami would be completely opposed to her kissing her finger tips.
"Amon should be here by now," Korra grumbled popping her knuckles for the tenth time since they had arrived, "Are you sure we're at the right place?"
Asami tapped the map she'd splayed over the hood of the car, "Laghima Fissure." She tapped the map and pointed to the giant black crack that was supposed to represent the fissure. "It's the largest in this part of the world, Korra. We're in the right-,"
Asami cut short, her face twisting up as she stepped away from the map.
"You hear that?" She asked Korra. Korra looked at Asami inquisitively.
"Hear what?"
That was when Korra heard it. She swung her head around. She knew the sound. It seemed so natural for a different world. A world she'd left behind two years ago.
"Is that a– is that a helicopter?" Korra asked. Asami looked just as stunned and they both began looking to the sky for the flying vehicle. The sound became louder and louder until the sand dunes surrounding them in the vast desert terrain began being pushed aside as the helicopter swooped past.
Korra smiled unintentionally, she hadn't seen a flying vehicle in years. Then she thought who might be on said helicopter. Her smile faded.
Asami folded the map back up and put it away. She took up a stance over Korra's shoulder.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Asami asked.
"It's better this way. Less people will get hurt this way."
Asami looked like she didn't approve. No one had. Not when Korra said she'd be turning herself over to Amon. Who knew what the man had in store for them. And when she'd radioed he'd requested they meet a few miles from the walls.
There was no turning back. Korra would have to give herself up then find a way to get her and her friends out. Asami of course was the best backup she could ask for.
Her clothes whipped back against her body. Her short hair sent pushing back as the helicopter slowly descended.
She waited to meet the man in charge of the last inhabitable city. Her jaw set, her expression blank.
Once the landing skids had made contact with the earth the door remained close for a few moments.
Korra waited. The doors opened and a man stepped out.
He was tall and lean, his body built with muscles. He wore his hair in long braids down his back and docked two guns at his hips with a machete secured to his back. He was followed by none other than Kuvira herself.
Korra tensed at sight of the woman. She'd been expecting it, but the reality still hurt. The betrayal still broke her in a way she hadn't expected. In a way that made her want to scream, "After everything you chose this?" And though the pain in Korra's heart was sharp she'd expected it.
Two guards followed Kuvira and the man she assumed was Amon.
They were quickly followed by a fifth and final man.
A man with a scruffy graying beard and small wire glasses perched on his wide nose. A man with hard maroon colored eyes that saw everything in vivid detail but seemed callous towards all human life.
She felt Asami stiffen beside her the moment he exited the helicopter.
His maroon eyes first found Korra; he took her in making no effort to hide how unimpressed he was. Eventually they traveled to the other woman.
His eyes widened in his skull, his pale lips parted and closed.
His expression softened and he tenderly said his daughter's name, "Asami?"
Korra hadn't expected that. She'd expected so much – Amon being every bit as intimidating as the reputation preceding him. Kuvira being every bit as passive and cold faced as ever. She'd even expected the fancy turn out, more in a convoy fashion than in a helicopter, but still. What she hadn't expected was for the woman of her dreams to reply with a tender tone she'd never heard before, "Dad."
Korra rationalized that everything - Kuvira, Asami's father, even the helicopter -had been done to rattle her. Congratulations, she wanted to say as the woman she loved began to hug the enemy, she was rattled.
When Korra looked back she found Amon's eyes intent on her.
She feared him. She feared the way his face was covered in war paint and was beyond recognition. She feared the way his small eyes moved just before she did like he was two steps ahead of her. She feared the way he could turn Pema into a woman she hardly recognized. She feared the power he had by being the head of the last inhabitable city.
Mostly, at that moment she feared that he had Asami's father on his side and what that could possibly mean for the crew and, if she was honest, what that meant for her and Asami's relationship.
But her fear meant nothing right then. It wasn't something she could sell or trade with. And it certainly wouldn't save her friends. So she beat it down best she could, grit her teeth and set her eyes.
Asami hadn't even embraced her father for all of two seconds before Korra was in Amon's face. She turned her chin up at the man who had a good foot on her, setting him with her most deadly expression, "Where the hell are my people?"