alleyways and damage control

alleyways and damage control

He had come so quickly and left even sooner.

Korra had been overwhelmed when he came. They embraced passionately, fire heating fire. Her aura at that moment would have been one of pure bliss.

Then, only a short five months after Amon had been killed, a small equalist uprising had been reported. As the Avatar, she had to quiet it down. This had taken her by surprise for many of his disciples had either abandoned their old ways or gone into hiding.

Mako had insisted he come along. Korra wanted to say no, but they both knew that she needed him there. He was one of the most powerful firebenders in the city and his new occupation as a cop made him more than qualified to tag along. She reluctantly agreed in the end.

So the Avatar, her firebender cop boyfriend, and a small police force then set off across Republic City to the shabby slums. There would be no need to alert the press since this was a minor threat, but could still remind people of the dangerous days of Amon and their fear which the city's leaders had tried so hard to contain. The job was to be done swiftly, smoothly, and silently.

But, of course, things did not go according to plan.

Korra did not plan for there to be so many of them, no one on the force had. Nor did she plan for her to lose sight of the others. The Avatar usually preferred to be alone when fighting, but because of the numbers they had on her team, she urgently wanted to rejoin them. Yet her feet were ecstatic to be earthbending again; they had been itching for a good fight. She was soon able to take down about fifteen of the sixty or so equalists in her area.

When she had created an opening, Korra immediately darted to the adjacent alleyway, ground littered with equalist propaganda posters, to find that the metalbenders were doing fine. In fact, even more than fine. Mako was raking down one equalist after another, although he seemed to be tiring.

She grinned and focused herself back on the opponent. She noticed a few beginning to encircle her and she laced her hands with fire for protection. The flames danced between her wrists wildly. As one rowdy equalist sprinted forward, Korra dodged and sent a piercing blow straight to his side. She again began to lose focus of the others. This time it was costly.

One individual had crept out from behind a dumpster. He was eerily close to one of the police members, yet he oddly snaked his way around the crowd.

Korra had only turned her head when she heard a yelp. When her eyes had located the source, her stomach churned.

A few members of the police force, about three or four, began to crowd around him worriedly, so she could easily pick out Mako from the group. And between the nervous movements of an older officer, she could see him. There he was on the concrete, holding his stomach and struggling for breath. As she raced towards him, she began to notice why.

Korra shoved them out of the way, paying no attention to their grunts. There was a deep gash in Mako's side, staining his clothes a crimson color. The sickly smell of blood lingered in the air. Mako's head slightly swiveled to the side, just enough for her to see how beaten it was. This was the gaze of a soldier, a look of raw anguish and pain.

Korra kneeled down and propped his head onto her lap. "Go!" She shrieked at the remaining men lingering around. "We'll be fine! Just... Just fight off the rest of the protestors!" Despite the fire in her voice, there was a steady stream of water on her face.

She tilted her head down towards Mako, wanting to devote all of her time to him, yet she forced herself to stay aware of the brawl around her. "Hey city boy," she managed to utter. He rolled his head a bit to look up at her. She noticed how he gritted his teeth to keep from groaning. Her lips curled into a weak smile.

She was already beginning to slip.

"Hey," he choked. "Y'know, this was a bad idea," Mako paused to catch his breath. "For me to come along I mean," he continued.

"Shut up! You… You took down most of them anyway," Korra couldn't believe what he was saying. At any other time, this conversation would be very rare. She was hardly ever right during their arguments, and even when she was, Mako tended to be a bit stubborn as well. Some of her ways had gotten to him. Yet this was the wrong scenario for a confession of her victory.

"I love you!" She finally blurted out. Her fingers trembled as she caressed his bruised cheek. She wanted to soak up what remained, to remember him, but she couldn't bring herself to so much as look at his face. She didn't want to think him this way. Broken, beaten. She wanted to remember Mako as her badass sweetheart. The one that made her breakfast whenever their schedules allowed them the time. The one that had calmed her down after the countless arguments she had started, when she had failed to see reason. The one that sometimes fought back and always put up a good fight (sometimes even too good for her to admit).

Mako's time was up.

Then she fell. His shadows lulled her into the Darkness, a sick and sinister embrace. They would taunt her, tease of what once was. An escape could help to cure her, but she was emotionally as well as physically exhausted.

For a minute the escape seemed promising. Rage and adrenaline fueled the Avatar's blaze as she individually killed off the remaining equalists that had dared to stick around. A surge of hatred. A bloodlust.

But when none remained, she fell harder and faster than before. She plummeted into the shadows of the past. Of memories, fantasies, aspirations. Each hit her like a punch in the gut.

Then she noticed something. Every looming shadow tapped into her emotions, her vulnerable point. An Achilles heel if you will. Korra had never been too intact with her spiritual side. She was one to act before thinking it through. Her emotions were wild and difficult to tame, much like herself. This made it tough back in the time of hormones and the fabulous Bending Brothers.

But now she had put two and two together. To defend herself, Korra would have to close herself off from the rest of the world. To shut down the emotions, his shadows.

But how in the name of Spirits was she supposed to make that decision?

She was the Avatar for crying out loud! Erasing her feelings went against every purpose she had. Korra was here to be a bridge between the physical and spiritual world. To ensure the safety and just treatment of the righteous. To save.

For a few months she gave in.

It was pathetic. Mako was replaceable, just another handsome firebender. She told herself over and over again, but his memory, much like a flame, refused to die out.

This is dumb Korra. You only dated for a short time, and who are you kidding? It was never going to last. You and Mako fought all the time. The world needs you, you big wuss. Man up and shake it off. It was just a fling. It's not like he even mattered…

Her list dragged on and on.

Much to Tenzin and her family's dismay, she took up bad habits. Sometimes they would find her nursing a drink, dragging on a cigar, or even just in silence. Her lack of communication was the worst. She would refuse to talk or eat for days. Her parents desperately tried to coax her back into the Korra the previously knew, while Tenzin would try to remind her of her Avatar duties. Both were running out of options.

How could that boy have meant so much to her?

It was a burden to Korra. His death was a weight she carried on her shoulders every waking moment since the event.

It was my fault. It's my fault he's dead. I could have stopped it. He could still be here. He could still be alive. He could still be alive.

She hated this. All the young Avatar wanted was closure. She wanted to know that it would be fine, that there was some uncanny mistake. That this was all a practical joke. A very good joke.

The nightmares were the worst. They plagued Korra's once peaceful sleep and destroyed her from the inside out. All she could see was his face when she closed her eyes. All she could hear was his ragged breathing. All she could smell was the copper scent of blood.

The bags under her eyes seemed permanent.

"THIS IS PATHETIC! I'M THE FUCKING AVATAR AND I COULDN'T EVEN SAVE HIM!" Korra screamed, hands covering her eyes and punching the walls vigorously. It matched nicely with the other dents along the outskirts of her room.

"I... I failed! I'm a failure..." She slunk to the ground and curled into the fetal position. The sobs that wracked her body began to subside and she was left alone with her thoughts.

A life was taken away because of my carelessness. Someone close to me. Someone I cared about. Someone many people cared about. He was a stupid idiot sometimes and hated every ounce of my being. He hates me even more now.

I was too weak to save him. I'm pathetic. If I can't even save those that matter to me, how can I be the Avatar?

It was hard to believe that one person could do this much damage.

It took a long time, but her escape was coming into view. The faint glimmer may have been Bolin's doing. He took Mako's passing equally as hard. The brothers were very close, wound together because of their late parents. Bolin's response was similar to Korra's at first. He became somewhat of a recluse, refusing to leave his once shared apartment.

Yet his slow recovery gave her hope. He lost his last family member, and as much of sucker punch it was, there were glimpses of renewal. Bolin had even less support and still was able to find an escape.

And then it came. Of course only in small doses, but it was better than nothing.

The gain came at a cost. She was forced to embrace her scars, emotional and physical. She was forced to resist the alluring temptation of alcohol. She was forced to resist seclusion.

They told her to do it for him. He wouldn't want you this way, he wants you to move on.

Quite frankly she did not want to move on from him.

She recovered but did not forget.