Chapter Text
Korra had been the one to suggest the idea, but she was thinking of a one-day road trip down to the woodland coast of the west. When Asami asked her why two eighteen-year-olds with access to a car and secure funds shouldn’t disappear into the woods for a couple of weeks, Korra had gone silent.
Then she said, “You’d have to take care of me.”
“I will,” Asami said then. “If you want me to.”
So Korra let her. She let Senna show Asami how to dress Korra, clean Korra, check Korra for sores, empty the urinary bag, transfer her to and from a wheelchair, and work with Naga when necessary. Asami memorized the timetable for Korra’s medications and made a checklist of all of the components of Korra’s chair. She brought in a prototype of a self-adjusting ramp in case they entered areas that weren’t accessible even with the upgrades Asami had grafted into Korra’s chair. Asami never said a word. Her intentions were shown to Korra: Don’t be afraid of me. I’m serious about this. I’ll be here. Then Asami placed the company in the temporary trust of her most trusted engineer, and it was done.
They went on a vacation, just the two of them and Naga. Asami still drove graceful and fast across the sharp bends of the United Republic terrain, and Korra still sang off-key at the trashiest pop songs that came on the radio. They made out at rest stops and gossiped unrepentantly. During breaks, Asami curled up to her girlfriend’s side and rested her head against Korra’s.
They moved from town to town by the hour, choosing the next destination at twists of whimsies, and settled in when they were tired. There were sweet crackers to try at local markets, and hills to conquer, and a whole country to explore. They were together, there was youth to spend, and that was what mattered.
It wasn’t easy all the time; on some days, it wasn’t easy most of the time. In their second week, Korra picked a small beach town standing between a forest and the sea. Asami had quieted, but she followed the path Korra had traced out on the map. It wasn’t until they found an inn and retired to bed for the day that the pinching sensation at the back of Korra’s neck slid down her sternum and pressed against the veins of her heart. She didn’t tell Asami. Naga whined, but she shushed her. She drifted in and out of sleep.
At five she was completely awake and feeling like shit. At a quarter past five she had an idea. At twenty-three past five she turned to Asami.
“Hey, babe?” she whispered.
“Hm?” Asami said, a soft sound.
“I want to go to the beach,” Korra said. “If you’re up for it.”
Asami’s eyes opened. She looked at Korra carefully, nodded once, and got up.
This beach was nothing like the one where Korra had her accident. Sand and pebbles mixed freely by the lapping waves. Instead of old surfboards lining the bay, there were molding wooden crates and the occasional fishermen, fiddling at hooks or fixing their nets. Asami and Korra nodded to them, and the old men nodded back. Sometimes they stared at Korra’s wheelchair and the giant dog by their side; but more often they smiled back and went back to business.
They found a beautiful little cove a few miles away and rested there. Asami’s eyes were wide and alive as she took in the shimmering sun in the distance. Korra was content to sit and enjoy the scene until she realized she wasn’t anymore. So she asked Asami.
“You sure?” Asami said, afterwards.
“Yeah.”
This was more difficult than helping Korra into a bed: there was a greater drop between the chair and the ground. But Naga was there to act as support, and after painstaking minutes Asami transferred Korra from the chair to Naga’s back, then to the sand. The foamy sea lapped at Korra’s exposed toes.
A month ago, during a physical therapy session, Korra moved her right big toe a quarter of a centimeter to her left. It was the first sign of progress she had in almost a year. There hadn’t been a repeat performance yet, but Korra had been training herself in that fine line of appreciating what she had and daring to hope for more, and she was getting better at it.
The air nipped at her cheeks, but it was warmed by the faint fire of the distant dawn. Water rushed in, slipping away, making way of the solidity of the sand—of earth. Asami kneeled down next to Korra, and Korra turned her head to catch a kiss. Together, they watched the sun rise.