Work Text:
He would never forget the sound of Bato screaming.
Hakoda was swinging a club at a Fire Nation soldier, and he heard Bato scream from a distance. The soldier was knocked unconscious in Hakoda’s next attack, and he turned around to see what was wrong.
Bato was lying on the ground, still screaming, and another Water Tribe warrior was attacking the soldier that Bato had been facing just moments before. Hakoda noticed immediately that his upper body was singed from flame. Smoke rose from his ruined clothes, his destroyed armor, and his skin was bright red and already blistered.
He had been burned. The soldier he was fighting was a firebender, and Bato had been burned.
It seemed as though time moved in slow motion after that. Hakoda abandoned the unconscious soldier and rushed over to Bato, tilting his face away from the smoke that came off of his body. Bato’s screaming had softened as he tried to calm himself; he knew that being in hysterics would only cause him to feel worse. His eyes met Hakoda’s, and Hakoda’s stomach churned at the agony that rested in his blue orbs. He gritted his teeth with a quiet grunt. “Koda…” he managed out. “Koda, spirits, it— it hurts.”
Hakoda’s heart ached at the sound of Bato’s pained nickname. He ignored the burns on his arm and chest. He had to focus on Bato.
“Bato, listen to me. You’re going to be alright, okay?” Hakoda grabbed his healthy hand, giving it a squeeze to keep his attention. “We’re getting you on the ship, and you’re going to be alright. Okay?”
Bato nodded at him. He gave his hand a weak squeeze in return.
The minutes that passed by after that felt like hours. Hakoda had been the one to carry Bato to the ship, ignoring the offers of assistance from other warriors or even the single medic on their team, Kunik. He moved him to his bedroom on the ship, putting him down on a bed in the corner. Bato had fallen silent, and the only indication that he was awake was the nods of his head and the movement of his eyes. All of the warriors had vacated the room moments later, needing to get the ship out of the area in case the Fire Nation sent more soldiers. All who remained were Hakoda and Kunik.
Hakoda gave Bato a cloth to bite down on as Kunik cleaned his wounds. He bit down so hard that his jaw trembled, and his eyelids fluttered, but Hakoda didn’t leave his side. He knew that he had to be there for Bato. An instinct to watch over him, protect him, keep him safe washed over him. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before, far stronger than nearly every emotion that came over him.
When Bato’s wounds were cleaned, and his body was wrapped, Kunik advised that he rest. They would have to stop somewhere for medicine when they left the area, but it would be at least a day. The medic exited while Hakoda watched over him, kneeled by the bed. He didn’t try to convince him to leave.
Bato was barely conscious, but it seemed that it was more from exhaustion than agony. Hakoda was grateful.
The only light in the room was a lantern, and Hakoda was grateful that the dim light could hide his worried expression. At that point, the worst injury of any warrior had been a non-fatal stab wound, and it was healed with stitches. But Bato’s burns… They were far more severe than that. Hakoda knew that it would take a while to recover from such a thing.
The rocking of the boat on the water was making Hakoda tired. But he couldn’t sleep. What if Bato needed him at some point during the night?
He looked up at the bed to see that Bato’s eyes were open the smallest bit possible, and he stared up at the ceiling of the boat as if he were in a daze. He was awake. Barely. Hakoda would give anything to hear his voice, to listen to his assurances that he would be okay like he had so often in the past.
When they first left for the war, Bato had gotten a concussion from a fall after being attacked by a Fire Nation soldier. Even when he couldn’t move from headaches and was occasionally physically ill, he repeatedly told Hakoda that he would be fine. It was just a concussion.
Stitches. A nasty bruise from falling out of a tree. Losing his voice. “I’ll be fine, Hakoda,” over and over again.
But his burns left him speechless for the first time. The silence left Hakoda feeling more afraid than he had ever felt in his life.
Hakoda decided to break the silence. He had to. It was driving him mad.
“Bato?”
The smallest movement of his eyes was indicative that he heard him. His blue eyes, mysterious as a vast ocean, rolled over to look at him. His lips moved as if he was speaking his name, but no noise came out.
Hakoda felt his eyes dampen, but he refused to let tears fall. He had to stay strong for Bato.
“Bato, I’m not going anywhere all night. I can get you anything that you need,” Hakoda said. He blinked his tears away, and he took a steadying breath to calm himself. “We’re getting you medicine tomorrow. You’ll be better before you know it.”
Bato stared at him blankly for a few seconds, but the corners of his mouth curled up in the smallest smile. Hakoda returned it.
Hakoda slept that night slumped against Bato’s bed. When he woke, someone had put a blanket around his shoulders to keep him warm. He had the worst crick in his neck, but it was worth it.
Kunik returned later in the morning with medicine that was retrieved from a coastal town. Hakoda watched in silent worry as he gave Bato some medicine and rewrapped his wounds to keep them fresh. The most noise that Bato made was a soft grunt in pain when he moved to sit up, but past that, he was eerily silent. He usually could take on any pain without noise, and it shouldn’t have bothered Hakoda as much as it did. But he saw Bato’s uncomfortable frown and saw his brows furrow every now and then, and he knew that it was worse than usual, and if it was Hakoda, he would still be screaming twelve hours later.
Once Kunik left, Bato stared at the ceiling of the boat once again. He was more awake than he was the night before, but it was clear that exhaustion was still apparent.
Hakoda pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat down by the bed. Bato looked over at him. “Did you really stay all night?” he whispered. His voice was raspy from his screaming the day before.
Hakoda nodded. “Of course I did. I told you I would.”
“I slept like a baby all night somehow. You… You could’ve at least slept in the bed.”
Hakoda glanced behind him at the bed on the other side of the room. “Yeah, maybe. You could have needed me.”
Bato yawned. The fingers on his healthy hand flexed as an alternative to stretching. “You need to move around and help your tribe. I’ll be just fine here.”
Hakoda hesitantly rose to his feet, ignoring how good it felt to stand. “You’ll get my attention if you need me?”
Bato nodded. “Koda. Go.” He was smiling, and his eyes fell closed. “I’ll be fine.”
It was two days later when Bato woke with a fever.
It was Hakoda who noticed it. He had been checking on Bato, who was sleeping in far later than usual, even in the wake of his injury, and he flinched at the sudden heat of his skin.
His burns were infected. Kunik wasn’t sure how it happened, but he was certain of it. He cleaned Bato’s wounds again as best he could, and he gave Bato a higher dosage of medicine in an attempt to stave off the infection. He gave him an extra blanket for chills and a cold compress for his forehead.
“All we can do is wait,” he said solemnly.
Hakoda told everyone on the ship of the news, and he ignored the fear in his voice. He said that everyone needed their rest from the previous battle, and no one argued with him. Hakoda sat at Bato’s bedside for the rest of the day and then all of that evening.
Bato was barely moving. Even in sleep, the rise and fall of his chest were so slow that Hakoda had to strain to see it. He occasionally twitched from whatever he was dreaming about, but it was so seldom that Hakoda was always surprised when it happened.
Two more days passed just like that. Hakoda left to use the bathroom and to get food rations when they were offered. He slid his chair over when the medic came to give him medicine and to check his temperature. Other than that, he sat, his elbows on his knees, for hours at a time.
His mind drifted in the bedroom, the only sound being the faint flickering of the lantern’s flame that kept him from sitting in darkness. It was easy to overthink when there’s barely any sound to prevent it.
Hakoda was never one to lose hope in a situation. He was the one to rally the warriors when things looked grim, to offer a smile when everyone was frowning. He was the one to make sure that the war of no hope didn’t get to their heads and destroy their morale.
But in that bedroom, watching his best friend hardly breathe, Hakoda was losing hope.
Bato should have been improving, at least a little. He should have been able to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. He should not have needed a new cold compress every half hour because his fever left them useless after a while. He should have been smiling.
Hakoda loved Bato’s smile. It was usually subtle, one that came with a good meal or an intriguing story. When he grinned, spirits, it was enough to make Hakoda smile too. It was contagious.
Hakoda was sometimes convinced that any clouds in the distance parted when Bato smiled. If not the sky, then it was Hakoda’s mind.
The monotonous movement of dipping the cold compress into fresh ice water and replacing it on Bato’s forehead was enough to make Hakoda’s bones ache. It wasn’t strenuous, but it was repetitive, and sitting in a chair for literal hours did little to assist.
Bato shivered at the cold compress on his forehead, but he soon relaxed in sleep once again.
Hakoda only stared at his chest and arm. He was wrapped up with white bandages, protecting his burns from the outside. Hakoda could only bitterly think that the bandages had failed Bato.
What if he died?
Wait. No. He couldn’t think like that. He had to remain hopeful, no matter how hard, impossible, it seemed.
Hakoda moved a hand to gently grasp at Bato’s right hand, moving his thumb across his calloused skin.
He and Bato had held hands before. Not often, but there were times where Hakoda would deeply miss his children and would need comfort that only Bato could provide. It would be in the form of a squeeze on his hand, the familiar presence of someone he cared about, someone he loved right there. It grounded him when he needed it. He could only hope to be the same for Bato.
He would be nowhere without him. He had known that his entire life, but right then, it became all too clear and all too real that Bato was one of the most important people in his life.
Oh, spirits. Hakoda was in far too deep.
If he could only tell him those feelings…
What would Bato even say to such a thing? If Hakoda were to say, “You’re so important to me. I never want to be without you,” what would Bato say? Would he smile and laugh and return the sentiment? Would he just ignore it? What would become of them if those words passed his lips?
Would they kiss?
Fuck. Hakoda hadn’t kissed anyone since Kya passed. Would Bato even want to do something like that? Hakoda didn’t know, but he couldn’t linger on it. There were more dire things to think about.
Things like Bato surviving to see the end of the war. Things like Hakoda only seeing Bato’s beautiful, sky-clearing smile every time he closed his eyes for the rest of his life.
Hakoda didn’t remember falling asleep. But when he woke up, he knew that something was wrong.
He knew this because the moment he sat up, he noticed that Bato was awake. He wasn’t… wide awake or anything, but his eyes were definitely open. He was gripping at the blanket with his good hand, and he looked uncomfortable.
Hakoda rose to sit up straight. “Bato?” he whispered. His voice felt so loud. “Bato, what’s the matter? Do you need me to get Kunik?”
Bato inhaled a shaking breath and shook his head. “No, no… He’s done enough for me.”
Hakoda nodded. “Alright, good. If you’re not in a lot of pain, then what’s the matter?”
“Just…” Bato’s eyes closed, and he grimaced. “Dreamt about it.”
Oh, no.
Hakoda frowned. “Do you want to talk to me about it?” he asked softly.
Bato’s eyes opened, and he rolled his head to look at Hakoda. He looked worried. “You were there, Koda.”
“And I was there when you got that concussion,” Hakoda said kindly, “and I still let you talk about your headaches and held your hair back when you threw up. I never let that stop you from talking or me from listening. It’s what you do for the people you love.”
Bato quirked a brow, and the corners of his mouth curled up in a smile. “People you love, huh?”
Well, shit. That wasn’t how he wanted it to go.
Hakoda’s cheeks heated up in a blush. “I, uh…”
Bato chuckled. “You’re so attractive when you’re embarrassed, Koda.”
“You flatter me,” Hakoda said dryly. He was still trying to recover from accidentally telling him that he loved him. He couldn’t keep complimenting him! Or it was never going to end!
Bato lifted his right arm and reached for Hakoda, flexing his fingers when his arm hovered in front of him. The Chief ignored its shaking and grabbed his hand, and he gave it a loving squeeze.
“Get in the bed,” Bato requested. He sounded as if he was struggling to stay awake.
Hakoda shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you, Bato. You’re still recovering.”
“I don’t give a damn, Koda,” he slurred sleepily. “You could smack my burnt chest, and I would push through it so you can lay in this bed with me. Besides, you look like a dead man sitting there. You need your sleep too.”
Hakoda knew that there was no changing his mind. Carefully, he pulled back the covers of the bed and sat up, making sure the blanket would cover both of them. He pressed a careful hand to Bato’s cheek, and much to his relief, it seemed that his horrid fever had finally gone down.
He laid down next to Bato, and he helped Bato move his healthy arm around his back. Hakoda moved so his neck laid across his arm, and their heads shared the same large pillow. Bato was still looking at Hakoda, and he was still smiling that sleepy smile that left Hakoda’s heart racing a mile a minute.
“Are you comfortable?” Hakoda asked quietly.
“Oh, spirits, I am,” Bato replied. His eyes closed, and he rested fully back on the pillow. “The most comfortable I’ve been in days.”
“We can get better at cuddling once you’re better, yeah?”
Bato chuckled a second time. “That sounds good to me.”
Hakoda rested his right arm over Bato’s waist, his thumb tracing Bato’s hip through the blanket.
He dreamt of Bato’s smile, and it was beyond pleasant, knowing that he would see that very smile when he woke.