unrestraint | welcome to darrow.

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bolin

welcome to darrow.

To be a bender is to constantly be aware of the effect that emotions can take on mind and body. Very few people are strangers to a fire suddenly flickering into thin air at the first sign of heartbreak, or of waters only swelling halfheartedly once fatigue has wormed itself deep into one's bones. Though she may have a greater potential to tap into the elements than any other living person, this isn't the first time that Korra's found herself trapped wholly in her body. She may miss the brush of fire and slip of streams, yearn for the thunder of earth moving below her feet, but human hearts are made to ache, and they are made resilient, and Korra knows full well that she can sleep with her senses padded. If anything, that's the frustrating thing about life — it constantly moves on and never begs permission, and to be swept in it all its movement proves far easier than trying to stand steady against its tides.

What she misses most isn't the bending.

The sound of muffled voices beyond the door quickly worms underneath Korra's skin. She's never dealt very well with people speaking behind her back, not from the minute she realized that a person can wear an expression in one direction, then its opposite in another. Removing that slight barrier with a slide of wood forces her to face everything the only way she knows how. Directly and honestly.

Twelve faces are turned to her in that instant, all of them bearing the same look. Korra has as much as any of them, if not more. The wind now brushes through her fingers at will. Before her stand the only four people in the entire world who could even begin to teach her how to wield storms and fly among the birds. If they're playing a game of comparisons, Korra ought to stand tall among them, yet distance separates them all from her in a careful arc, and still their eyes read pity.

Because what good to the world is a disempowered Avatar?

"It's going to be alright, Korra," says Tenzin, and it reads like a lie.

"No, it's not."

Breaking the silence only with the sound of her steps, Korra can feel her eyes grow dry as she weaves through gathered friends and family, not stopping even for the brush of her mother's hand — we love you so much, she said once, but doesn't say now — until she reaches the entrance of the house, preparing to step out, possibly for the last time. The world needs an Avatar, and spending another seventeen years under the stormy gray clouds in the sky just isn't an option anymore.

Only it's the sun that greets her, a rush of breath whistling between Korra's teeth as she finds herself high enough so as to almost nestle in the clouds. The wind snaps against her skin, cold and sharp, contrasting with the force of the sun's rays as she steps closer to the side of the ledge, a shuddering breath tugging into her lungs at the dizzying sight below, vehicles lined up like ants along the thinnest of roads below.

Concrete holds her feet better than ice.

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Life over the last couple of days hasn't been very smooth for Bolin, but he's managed, mostly through having Pabu and Naga there with him. Because everything he thought he knew has been, essentially, thrown out the window.

To start with, that bending exists. To end with, that telephones can work without lines. It isn't even that he can't take small things in stride, but there's different and new, and then there's just ... this. All this.

He's lingering a few blocks away from the train station, taking Clementine's advice and letting Naga spend some time with him (she usually wanders out of town to tend to the sort of needs she has that Bolin can't help with - she eats a lot). That's when she lifts her broad white head to stare into the distance, before sounding a long, low whine and grabbing Bolin to tumble him onto her back, where he holds on, because it's the only thing to do when Naga decides you need to be on her back. It takes him some time to figure out what she might be looking for, and when she stretches a howl into the distance, he lets himself hope again, for real. He's been wishing since he got here, but now he lets that wish become an active hope again.

"Korraaaa!" he calls as the animal beneath him pounds across town, scattering people in front of her, and Bolin does his best at matching Naga's howl for volume and distance.

Edited 2012-07-22 04:14 (UTC)

The closest she's ever seen before to the buildings that surround her now are Sato's buildings, the thought glancing unpleasantly across Korra's skin as she steps back from the ledge and glances behind her. There's a thought that strikes her, almost like a small tug of hope, the thought that perhaps she's managed to land herself in the Spirit World somehow, or that there may be a solution that exists yet for her there. Unfortunately, as Korra walks across the roof, that thought wears away quickly, every detail around her far too solid and too tangible. But if nothing else, she's thankful for one thing — the fact that the brief welcome Hiroshi Sato extended to her makes it easy enough to Korra to work her away around the lifts.

Down thirty levels she goes before stepping out onto the pavement, the color of the road far more dark than what she remembers from Republic City, and the styles of clothing on those around her unfamiliar at best. Why is she here? What is this place?

When a familiar howl sounds from the distance, Korra stops walking, stopping by a streetlight and glancing intently down the street, waiting for Naga to draw closer. She might not be able to fix this any better than Korra can, but if nothing else, Korra thinks that the companionship might help.

Naga is an excellent tracker - they've all been made more than aware of that truth. And she does her good work, taking Bolin straight to whatever it is that she recognized, whatever she sensed that he couldn't. When she finds her quarry, Bolin isn't let down. And he doesn't have it in him to feel guilty for being glad that someone else is there too, with him. Doesn't even stop to feel guilty that he's so glad to see Korra that his whole body practically hurts from it.

When Naga starts to slow, he tosses himself off of the side of her back, hitting the ground awkwardly and stumbling a few times, but only pumping his legs faster underneath him. He doesn't say anything yet, because he's not even sure what he would say if he could force the words out.

Bolin only knocks the air out of his own chest when he stretches his arms out to grab Korra around the shoulders, clasping his arms at the middle of her back in what is half as much a desperate tackle as it is an embrace, tottering more toward needy than affectionate.

He hasn't suffered the last few days well.

"There you are," he finally manages, breathless.

With a shuddered inhale, Korra finds her eyes sliding to a natural close, because of all the greetings that she might easily turn away, an embrace simply isn't as easy to reroute as everything else. There's a part of her that wants to take comfort in it, to wrap her arms back around Bolin tight and let the tears flow until there simply aren't any more to offer. It's a greater part than she likes to acknowledge, one that invariably has her feeling weak. If there's anyone in the world who needs to understand how to work in isolation, it seems like the Avatar should be it.

(But she's not really that any longer, is she?)

Her hand pauses halfway over Bolin's back, but it only brushes against his spine as she lets her arm back down, breaths shallow and still trying to swallow the panic and melancholy that's been rising in her throat for some time.

"Bolin?" she asks, not yet moving herself back just yet, not when there's something very peculiar about this specific embrace, something Korra's not sure that she's ever seen from Bolin before. "Bolin, what's going on? Where are we?"

He can feel her shaking between his shoulders, even when he isn't particularly steady himself. The feel of her familiar hand barely grazing over the clothes on his back startles him enough in its tentative strangeness that he presses his face to her shoulder to rub away the wetness at the corner of one of his eyes before she can see it.

Only because it really isn't the time. She really needs him to answer her questions, to keep his head on his shoulders. Even when he wants to just indulge himself in having her around again.

"Korra," he says, returning her name like a confirmation. He folds himself off of her just far enough to meet her blue eyes, fingers still lingering on her shoulders. And Bolin manages to meet those eyes, his gaze only sliding away awkwardly once before finding hers again. "I'm going to explain as much as I can, but I think you should get on Naga first. It's sort of ... a lot to take in. But I think that it's going to be okay." Okay is a good word for it. It could hardly be good, especially with no Mako yet in sight. But it could be okay.

Casting Naga a glance, Korra lets her gaze linger on the polar bear dog, who makes no move to draw closer. It's all the confirmation she needs. There's not much further to fall after everything else that's happened — not much of anywhere else to go, and so Korra simply keeps both feet on the ground and stands as tall as she can, which perhaps is more than she feels. But even from this, the slightest chance that there might be something going on that she can fix, it burns through her as quickly and brightly as anything else.

"I'm fine." In a manner of speaking. "Just tell me what's going on? Where are the others? I didn't realize that there was another city like this in the United Republic."

It's not Republic City, after all, she thinks to herself. From the strange script that lines shop signs to the hair colors on the people who pass them by, it's pretty clear that she's stepped into someplace new entirely.

He does wish she would have gotten on Naga. Somehow, it would have made the conversation seem easier - for Bolin to have. If he could buoy both of them on the animal's broad, furry, familiar back while they talked. He doesn't push it. What's good for Korra is good enough for now.

"It's not the United Republic," he affirms to her in a murmur, but finds the strength of his voice again, for the most part, after a brief pause. "This isn't Earth. Korra, I've been here for over a day. You just got here, and you're the only one. Nobody else is here." Not Asami, not Mako, not even Tenzin or the chief of police. "Nobody knows the way to leave. But other than that ... it doesn't seem too much of a dangerous place. At least, nobody's tried to electrocute me so far. And there's places to stay. For everyone who shows up."

It has not, of course, occurred to him that he might be a little too complacent about some of the above. The only thing that's mattered to Bolin so far has been how much he can't stand the loneliness and uncertainty.

"No," Korra shakes her head, slow in a way that reveals the doubt that's managed to settle under her skin, prickling as it travels along the surface. Because there's no way, it's impossible, but Bolin wouldn't lie, and if it's a sheer case of him being mistaken, then there's still something that's been done. A threat which lingers above them like a storm cloud. "No, Bolin, I saw you only seconds ago. We were, we were at the South Pole, at Master Katara's place. I just saw you before I headed outside, I..."

Frowning, her words trail into silence as she lets her gaze sweep over her surroundings again, at the high rises and the planes and planes of glass, seamlessly fitting in a way that Korra isn't sure even the most skilled of sandbenders have managed back home.

"C'mon, we'll find a way back," she says, even though she doesn't feel half as sure as she sounds. The only place she's heard of other than Earth, after all, is the Spirit World — but Bolin wouldn't be there for that. Gaze strangely sharp as she glances Naga's way, Korra offers a quick raise of her chin. "Come, Naga. Let's find our way back."

For most of her response, all that Bolin can do is stare at her in apology, for having to be the one to tell this to her, for not having a better answer, maybe even for not being Mako. And it's that thought of his brother sneaking in that makes him hang his head when he does, moving far enough away from Korra so that she can mount Naga easily enough, and take the seat back that belongs to her, at the animal's reins. Bolin finds it easy enough to think that he's only been keeping it warm while Korra's not been in it, keeping Naga safe until they're together again.

"I haven't seen you since you and Mako left to try to deal with Amon once and for all. Naga was taking me and Asami back to the city. I don't know how or where Asami is. I didn't know what was going on with you or my brother, either."

She may not sound sure, but the strong tilt of her chin brings a smile to Bolin's face again, if a little watery. He doesn't say we already looked. He says, "If you're going to look, I'll come look with you. I'll take us back if you fall asleep. Tomorrow you can try again."

She tries her best to hide the breath that lodges itself in her throat. The one that crops up at the thought that this means Bolin doesn't know, he has no idea that Korra's lost her bending — the only elements she's ever felt comfortable with, at least. He still thinks that she's whole, and there's that look that has lingered in his eyes for some time, the one that trusts her to be the hero to solve everything. The toughest, buffest girl in the world, and it paralyzes Korra for a second before she reaches out, holding a hand to Bolin. Not that he needs it.

"We stopped Amon," Korra says quietly, not managing half as much of the smile that she needs to nor able to quash the way that fear still trickles down her spine like so much ice water as she shifts forward on her saddle, leaving ample room for Bolin. Under her, Naga lets out a small, steady whine, craning her neck to stare better at Korra, who leans forward to card her fingers through the soft, white fur. "I don't understand how that's possible, though. You were the first person we told, and you wouldn't forget something like that."

Already, she's starting to distrust her new surroundings. How far she's come from the starry-eyed reaction to Republic City.

He takes her hand readily, squeezing her fingers in his own for a moment, before using Korra's arm to help tug himself up onto Naga's back without the necessity of leap-frogging up like he normally does. Though he does, as he normally does, settle in directly behind Korra, chest pressed to her strong shoulders, though his hands are carefully behind him, gripping around the edge of the heavy leather saddle.

"I wouldn't forget, Korra, believe me. But I haven't seen you. I just haven't. We weren't even back out of the mountains yet. I just remember Iroh giving me a job. Then Asami took her dad out. And Naga was running us back home and then we were both here, me and her. Like I said. Just like I said. There's nothing else."

It's far too much to process, the sort of day that one wonders and hopes might be a dream — even if it seems painfully obvious to Korra that it isn't. Somehow, time's split off in two directions. Comforting though it may be that all of them are still managing to find one another again in spite of it, that's where it ends. She's pored through as many texts and records as possible over the past decade, doing her best to absorb the experiences of the other Avatars in lieu of direct communication, but none of them have even hinted at something like this.

And the odds of Korra actually managing to speak directly with the previous incarnations seems slim. Excels at the physical side, but has completely ignored the spiritual. Her frown deepens.

"You're going to fall off if you don't hold on properly," Korra remarks, glancing back at Bolin. "You know I'm not great at thinking myself into a solution, so I'm going to have Naga go as far out as we can."

Bolin's been processing, as best he can. For more than a night and a day. And the only conclusion he'd come to was that he didn't want to believe fully that he would never see his brother or his friends again. His belief otherwise is only strengthened by Korra's arrival. Maybe everyone else will show up in her wake. Bolin, after all, doesn't have any responsibilities except for himself, and living through the next day.

And it's hard for him to see why being here would be too awful a thing, if the rest of the people he cares about are there too. He might miss everything else, but essentially, it isn't what makes him happiest.

But Korra, maybe she'll find them a way back. She's been nothing but impressive surprises since they've met, all ability and grace and quick learning. In that respect, not much different than Mako, in Bolin's eyes. Endlessly reliable. "Sorry," he says, and hesitates just momentarily before wrapping both arms around her waist, trusting in her grip on the reins. He just ... didn't want to presume. Things are still a little weird and everything, if just a little.

"Let's go. I'm ready. And ... I'm glad you're here. I know it might not seem like it, but I was getting so nervous about everything I'm pretty sure I was going to puke all over myself if I woke up tomorrow and I was still here alone."

A slight exhale pulls from her lips again when the warmth of Bolin wraps around her from behind, similarly to how it did shortly after their hug. Much as Korra's learned to cope with challenges on her own, the result of having spent seventeen years more or less isolated from the world, there's a comfort in companionship that she's learning quick. Her hand briefly brushes over Bolin's forearm as though to make sure that he's got a strong hold on her, but that isn't half the reason. It's just another point of contact, and one she desperately needs for the moment.

"You wouldn't have," she says, giving him another pat before tugging her hand back to the reins and encouraging Naga to start. The pace isn't too fast yet, if bumpy, as they tear down the street and towards the hills that Korra can just barely spot peeking over the horizon. "You managed being here on your own, Bolin. With a lot more patience than I would have had, too."

It's awkward carrying a conversation without looking Bolin in the eye; Mako and Korra may share many conversations while their gazes are turned away, but with Bolin, it's always been eye-to-eye. Sharing as much of their attention as they can with one another.

"Where have you been staying, anyway?"

"What's to be patient about?" he asks in a voice that tries its best to sound like a joke, honest but mostly rhetorical. He would never make Korra explain herself like that, even if he always left it in the open as an option. But he does grip tighter when Naga begins to move - something about the shape of her makes it so that the slower the pace, the bumpier the ride, but the jog Korra has her working up to now is steady enough that he can talk without too much of an awkward yodel in his voice.

"An apartment," he explains, realizing abruptly so little information he really has given Korra. And how little it's also taken for her to find an initiative. A difference between them. "My apartment. It's in my name, anyway. It came in an envelope with my name on it that this eight-year-old girl showed me. Keys, and identification, and some money." He shrugs against her back, warm where they touch and cold where the air whips past steadily. "I don't know where Naga's been staying. I forgot to ask. She wouldn't fit in the building, but she didn't seem to resent it too much, so I decided to just use the bed if it was there. And had my name on it."

"A lot. I mean, when I first stepped into Republic City, I enjoyed it, sure," Korra muses, some of her troubles momentarily pushed to the background by the constant conversation. She's always been better off when moving, even if it's the sort of movement that comes from a careful discussion. "But I was looking for Tenzin, who was... pretty much in the area. Here, I'm surprised that you even spent a night at all. I would have hightailed it out of here, since what we're looking for isn't exactly in this town, right?"

Her question trails off, if only slightly, as Korra finds herself struck with the notion that maybe what they need to search for is in the city. But that's the more complicated of the two possibilities, and she's loath to consider it.

"Also, you actually stayed in an apartment because the keys came in an envelope with your name on it? Seriously? Bolin, you don't know who was providing those keys! You could've gotten hurt or ambushed," Korra points out, glancing over her shoulder with a worried look.

"I don't know if you noticed, Korra," Bolin replies, without impatience or irony, "but me and Mako, we've never even been camping before. I mean, we've never even taken a train outside of the city. I wouldn't know the first thing about taking care of myself out there." And that had been Bolin's chiefest concern. Before exploration, taking care of himself. Finding food, and clean water, and shelter. Without anyone else around to decide what needed to be done, he fell back on the simplicity of daily concerns to keep his mind off of everything that he was feeling, but couldn't do anything about.

Now, he gives a slight hang of his head at Korra's gaze, defeated by her worry. Maybe he has been kind of a disappointment before she showed up. "You don't know who was providing that stuff, either. It could have been someone who wanted to make sure I was safe. Nothing bad happened to me. Isn't that okay?"

"Naga could have provided for you," Korra says, less to chastise and more as a pure statement of fact. Never has Korra ever lacked in food or shelter while Naga's been around, right down to that first day of fishing in the prohibited Republic City ponds. "If there's any place out in the wild that has game, she'd be able to hunt it down. Although I guess you'd be on your own in terms of cooking it." Her lips quirk for a second, remembering that Bolin's earthbending probably wouldn't have been the greatest of help in that scenario.

For her part, Naga lets out a quick howl as they continue down the street, avoiding the strange vehicles as best they can and finally breaking out into a park.

Korra shakes her head. "Anyway, I may not know who was providing all of that for you, but I'm more inclined to believe that good things are never freely handed out anymore, all things considered. Even if you think about getting sponsors as the Fire Ferrets — how did that turn out?"

He doesn't argue that Naga would have provided for him. From the moment that Korra told her to, Naga had tirelessly looked after him. And he was more than grateful.

It's Korra's pointed reminder that has Bolin's arms squeezing just a little more firmly around her waist as he searches himself for an answer. "Okay, yeah, admittedly, Hiroshi? Not exactly a shining example of parental responsibility, and he definitely called my brother some nasty things. But that was Hiroshi. He's not everybody. He's just a guy. Also Asami's dad, but that's another thing entirely, and I'm glad we're all still here so she doesn't have to go through with dealing with it alone. I'm glad you're here now. But I'm pretty sure I'm not totally hopeless, Korra. Really."

"Isn't that the point though?" Korra asks, the volume of her voice a little lower, a little softer, and a little less sure. Her shoulders are set square as she gives Naga's reins another shake, the polar bear dog taking the implication immediately to heart and setting off at a faster pace. "He was just a guy. Just a normal guy, and... what he did and how he treated Asami was awful, but I'm sure that he wasn't always so bad. Even Amon was once just a kid. The world's just not that safe for benders right now."

Leaning back slightly, Korra does her best to twist and bump against Bolin's shoulder. "You're not hopeless, though. Just maybe a little overly trusting. Mako's warned me about that before."

Bolin barely catches what she says when she lowers her voice, but he does catch it. Korra definitely has a point, and he doesn't want to argue it - but he can't help think that he might, too. The world's not safe for benders, but he wants a better reason to start mistrusting it than because he's a bender.

He smiles at the back of Korra's head when she gives him that little shove, and it's an honest one, even if she can't see it, and even if he's a little too self-aware that he's smiling at all.

"Right, yeah. I guess I can't argue with that. Mako knows me better than anyone else. I'm just worried about you, and I don't want you to feel like you've got to be Mako because he's not around." He presses the side of his face against the bare back of her neck before sitting up straight again, staring at the land moving quickly past them under Naga's sure feet.

"I'll do whatever you need me to do to help us out. But I'm a big boy. I can wear my big boy pants."

A retort quickly worms its way to Korra's lips, although she can't quite find the space to utter them — why are you worried about me? — if only because she knows the reasons why, perhaps. She knows the exact reason for her inability to hold her chin quite so high, and sometimes it feels like she's been constantly beaten down for months now, ever since she first arrived in Republic City. Unease slips up her spine and lingers there, unable to be quite pushed aside from the warmth of Bolin or by the calmer sight of the rolling hills that now surround them as the city only just begins to grow smaller behind them.

"I lost my bending, Bolin."

Her hands tighten on the reins, and Naga's ear quirks for a second, if only just. The two of them have always been in sync for certain behaviors, and the desire to push past every hurdle has been at the top for quite some time.

"Amon took my bending. I only have airbending left, I can't — can't bend the other three anymore."

"Amon--" he starts, but never finishes, instead replying for some time with only a shocked intake of breath and the tight squeeze of his arms around her sides, like she might sneak away if he lets go. Because she might.

If they hadn't been on Naga, she might. Mako knows Bolin like the back of his own hand, but Bolin likes to think he's starting to know Korra, too. She's not avoidant, but there's something about Amon that terrifies her. Even more than it's ever terrified Bolin - and yeah, he's still scared to death of the idea of the guy. And this ... isn't it just a confirmation of everything she's ever felt about Amon?

He can't even imagine what she's going through right now. But he doesn't need to to want to make it up to her.

"I'm sorry," he says, "I'm so sorry." The voice is small, and plaintive, and exactly the tone he's taken with her any number of times when he's begging her to be alright the next day. "You didn't deserve that. You put yourself out there to make sure that didn't happen to all of us, and you didn't deserve it, and I'm really proud of you."

Bolin is quiet for a moment, his stomach feeling sick - he really is so nervous still that he thinks he might puke. But he loves Korra so much that his entire body feels like it's on fire because he doesn't think there's anything he can do to help this time.

When he finally finds his voice again, it's all searching, and trying very hard not to be desperate. "That's why you went to see Master Katara. She couldn't fix it? And you unlocked your airbending, so that's good. I mean it. I'm not just ... if you have airbending you're still a bender. So maybe that's why you're here. Maybe that's why you're here, because there's a way to get it back if you look for it."

Bolin takes a different approach than Tenzin did, and it's stifling, so stifling. Enough that Korra isn't sure how she'll find the space to breathe. But enough seconds pass that she begins to think that maybe space isn't necessarily what she needs, even though every last atom of her body seems to be screaming for it, wanting to rush out into the familiarity of the glaciers and cliffs and powdered fall of snow. Feeling the reins slacken, Naga slows to a stop, craning her head back in Korra's direction, and Korra thinks suddenly that Naga's probably not letting her run either.

And it's stifling.

But the difference this time is that there's no pressure to continue being what she once was, no pressure that demands that she find her feet quickly, or even at all. It causes an aching sadness that runs through her body, tugging at every last fiber, but the panic subsides for a moment. Bolin was the first person outside of the White Lotus to treat Korra as though she were something special for being the Avatar, the hushed and disbelieving whisper still at the forefront of her memory, but he isn't leaving like her bending has. When she takes another breath, it's shuddering, and she tries to shake Naga's reins to get her to run again, but the companion refuses, letting out a quiet whine.

Bolin's not promising that anything will be okay. He's just... sorry.

"Master Katara couldn't even figure it out," she says, soft, even though Bolin probably doesn't need to hear it again. "I wasn't supposed to be just a bender, Bolin, I'm — I'm supposed to be the Avatar. I'm supposed to — balance and — and I just can't."

Bolin never lets the grasp around her sides release, in the same way that Naga doesn't start moving again. And it isn't that he wants to just pin her to the spot and force her to be something, whether that's something that she's not or something that she is. He's just not sure space is what she needs, and he knows that this is what he can give her. He can't give her answers, and he can't fix her problems, but he can make sure she knows how desperately he cares, no matter what.

"Korra, I want you to get back what's yours. You're still the Avatar, that much hasn't changed. If Amon took away your other bending, that means you beat Amon without it. As the Avatar. How is that not balance?"

He finally releases his grip, to lean back away from her on the saddle again. Not because he wants to, but because he doesn't want to make what he says next any more than it is, or any more than Korra needs it to be. Bolin knows where he stands. He's not perfectly okay with it, but he knows.

"You're Avatar Korra. And even if you were just Korra, that's still something. Because I'll take Korra however I can get her. We're friends, but ... I love you like before you showed up, I'd never lived a day without you. And I never want to let anything change that."

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