Chapter Text
Years passed and proved Lin correct—it was easier not to think about Kya when she wasn’t around. She spent her time caring for herself and Suyin until she was old enough for the academy and then suddenly her days were filled with seemingly endless training exercises and exams.
Somehow, she found the time to date an ever-persistent Tenzin amongst it all. His company was pleasant, familiar and comforting and had Lin often wondering if this was what love feels like. Kya would know, she supposed, but for some reason she never felt comfortable discussing her relationship with the waterbender’s brother when it came up in their rare conversations. Kya’s visits had become more and more infrequent until it barely felt like she visited more than once a year. She wrote though, regaling Lin with tales of her adventures and the people she met along the way. It’s easy for Lin to convince herself that the jealousy that surges through her system every time is because of how happy Kya seems to be, not for any other, much harder to acknowledge reasons.
Lin had often struggled to name her emotions, both negative and positive. She had, however, never felt anything so strong and so sudden and so terrifying as she did when her younger sister stepped out of the car she’d been chasing. It felt like her spine had been encased in ice as her entire body seized up and ran cold; a dizzying array of reactions surged through her mind as she gaped at her younger sister, but the only one she understood was anger. Anger was a safety net, a comfort blanket that was familiar and easy to process, and it made her feel somewhat more in control in a situation where she otherwise felt like she was drowning.
“Don’t even think about taking one more step.” She hardly recognises her own voice as it calls out to her retreating sister, desperation leaking through into her command. She shouldn’t have been surprised when Su ignored her, she had always been the kind to do the exact opposite of what Lin asked of her as if she found some kind of joy in the frustration she evoked from her older sister. That had always been the nature of their relationship, Lin would realise later in the silence of her empty apartment. Lin’s overprotective nature and Suyin’s rebellious disposition, paired with the neglect of their mother, resulted in a constant push and pull as they struggled to maintain a regular sibling dynamic in less than regular circumstances.
In all of her training, Lin had been taught to incapacitate uncooperative suspects as soon as possible, particularly when they were a bender. She shot a cable out towards Suyin, but it only wrapped tightly around one of her wrists, stopping her from retreating further, but doing nothing to prevent her from attacking. It would give her enough time to collect her thoughts, to really understand the situation they had found themselves in and come up with a solution. Su turned all too quickly though, and Lin found herself paralysed once again as she watched, helpless, as her own cable hurtled back towards her.
Everything else felt like it happened in a haze. She remembered the searing pain of the impact and the sound of her hoarse scream as she clutched at her cheek. She remembered seeing Suyin’s terrified expression through her tears of pain as she hesitated for a fleeting moment before turning to run. Even hazier is the memory of how she got to Air Temple Island, wincing underneath Katara’s gentle touch as Tenzin hovered behind them anxiously. All too vivid, conversely, are the memories of sitting in her mother’s office, being told that she was to blame for just doing her job and that her sister would once again not face any real consequences for her actions. Toph had said it was their only option, but Lin thought she was simply a coward, too ashamed to allow her shortcomings as a parent to come under public scrutiny.
The wound on her cheek pulsed tauntingly, reminding her of its presence as if she ever could have forgotten. Luckily, Katara had recognised Lin’s need for space and had demanded that everyone grant her that small mercy as she set her up in Kya’s childhood bedroom. It was the furthest room from everyone else, so Lin was able to name the peace and quiet as the reason for the comfort the room brought her instead of anything as ridiculous as the lingering smell on the pillow cases or the childhood memories of nights staying up far too late to swap secrets. She had remained in that same room for the past week, only ever seeing Katara when she came to check on her wound. Even Tenzin was refused entry, though he often hovered in the hallway to speak to her through the door. Not that she ever responded.
A knock on the door reminded her of the passing of time and Lin sighed, steeling herself for another healing session with Katara. She called out for her to enter, not even bothering to tear her eyes away from the hole in the ceiling she had been staring at. She remembered exactly how it had gotten there, the product of a childish play fight when Kya had pinned her down and tickled her so relentlessly that she’d accidentally sent one of Kya’s crystals flying upwards with a flailing arm. Kya, still above her, had just laughed harder and Lin had realised she would do almost anything to elicit that sound from her friend.
“If you’re going to lie across my bed, the least you could do is save me some space.”
The familiar voice caused Lin’s head to shoot up from the pillow. Sure enough it wasn’t Katara who had come to see her, but Kya. Lin hadn’t even known she was back in the city and she voiced as much, causing Kya to hum in response. "I’m just passing through, really. Dad wanted me to pick up some things to take to the Eastern Air Temple when I next go over there.”
Lin nodded as she scrambled to sit up on the bed, keeping her head tilted away from the doorway as if she would be able to hide the thick bandage from Kya. The waterbender stepped into the room slowly and shut the door behind her before she moved towards the end of the bed, sitting down but still keeping some distance between them. She silently considered Lin, who tried not to shift uncomfortably under her gaze; she expected pity and sympathy, both of which made her feel itchy and uncomfortable. When her curiosity finally wins over, however, and she risks a glance at her friend, she sees only patience and understanding swimming in familiar brown eyes. The faint lines around Kya’s eyes were new and they crinkled as she smiled, her expression almost unbearably tender.
“Can I take a look?”
Lin was surprised by the question, asked so softly she almost missed it. The first thing that Tenzin had said when he saw her was to reassure her that everything would be okay. Katara had said much of the same as she promised that she would do everything she could to heal her. Kya’s words were clinical, almost detached, but her tone spoke volumes and provided instant comfort. Lin felt safe and under no kind of pressure to feel a certain way. She nodded again, not trusting her traitorous voice not to waver, and felt the mattress move as Kya shifted from her position to kneel on the floor in front of her. She lifted Lin’s chin with a gentle finger, eyes still soft though her expression was now solemn and firm, before her hand moved to the edge of the wrapping on her cheek. Lin’s eyes squeezed shut both from the sensation of cool fingers against her face and in protest of the surge of emotions she felt brewing under the surface of her emotionless façade. Kya, to her credit, didn’t react at all as she peeled back the padding, only moving to lean back slightly so that she could open the water skin at her hip and apply its contents to the wound.
The touch of the water was cold against her face, but it provided a comfort that Lin hadn’t been anticipating. She let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding as her eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere but at the waterbender crouched between her knees. Eventually she just let her eyes flutter shut, leaning into the comfort of the healing touch and the vulnerability of the situation. When Kya had finished, she gently lowered the water back into the skin before reaching for a clean dressing. Lin gasped, however, when she felt gentle fingers tracing the length of the scar instead and her eyes snapped open to finally meet Kya’s. The older woman’s gaze was still calm and soft, though her brows were knitted almost imperceptibly. It was only when she felt the pad of a thumb on her face’s uninjured side that Lin realised she was crying. She tried to pull away, but Kya’s hand shifted around to cup the back of her neck, keeping her close and her eyes locked on hers.
“You know,” She started softly, fingers stroking the short hairs at the nape of Lin’s neck subconsciously, “I think they make you look badass.”
And just like that, Lin let out a surprised laugh. She almost didn’t recognise the sound and couldn’t help but be startled by it. Kya’s smile brightened and her hold on Lin’s neck loosened slightly, as if she were no longer afraid that Lin was going to pull away. She leaned backwards slightly and rested her elbows on the earthbender’s knees, still gazing up at her fondly.
“They’re just so–“ Lin broke off, waving her hand in the air as she searched for the right words. Unattractive? Unfeminine? Unsightly? She ducked her chin and stared down at her lap, which Kya took as a hint to busy herself with redressing the wound — Lin’s lips quirked up in the tiniest hint of a grateful smile.
“They don’t change who you are.” Kya’s voice sounded resolved and assured, “You’re still you. And you’re still beautiful, Lin.”
Lin was crying again, marginally more freely now as her control slipped. She’d already heard similar placating words from Katara and Tenzin, even Aang as he dropped her dinner off at her door one night, but somehow they meant more coming from Kya. She had seen the world, meeting all kinds of wonderful and interesting people, and yet she still sounded completely genuine. There was no hint of pity in her tone, she wasn’t treating her like a child or as some fragile, broken thing like Tenzin seemed to be doing as of late; there was nothing but truth and conviction in her voice.
“Thank you.” She uttered softly, hoping that Kya knew she didn’t just mean it in response to her words, but for all of it. For the comfort and the healing and for simply being there. Kya’s knowing smile said that she did. The waterbender used Lin’s knees to push herself up to stand, stretching as she mentioned something about fetching dinner. Lin said nothing as she tried to process the loss of Kya’s warmth against her and was barely able to stutter out an acknowledgement before the taller woman disappeared out into the corridor.
She assumed Tenzin would bring a plate to her door, as he always did after a healing session so that he could hover and try to ask for information, but Kya was gone for no longer than ten minutes before Lin heard her voice through the door,
“Open up, Lin, I’m gonna drop something!”
Lin quickly did as she was told and crossed the room to slide the door open. Kya handed her one of the plates she was holding with a relieved sigh, “Oh thank the spirits, mom would have been really mad at me if I dropped everything and didn’t feed you properly.”
She pushed past the shorter woman into the room, wasting no time dropping down onto the rug to eat. Lin stood in the doorway for a moment to allow her brain time to catch up with what was happening. No one had eaten with her all week and yet here Kya was, cross-legged on the floor of her room as if nothing were out of the ordinary. It should have felt invasive, Lin should have been upset, but instead she was somewhat touched. Her friend was determined not to treat her any differently and for that she was grateful. She slid the door closed once more and moved to mirror Kya’s position on the floor.
They ate in comfortable silence and afterwards Kya filled her in on her latest adventures on Kyoshi Island with their aunt Suki.
“You could come with me, if you’d like? Just for a bit, to get away from it all.”
The question made Lin freeze, her immediate negative response on the tip of her tongue. She paused, however, taking a moment to really consider the request. It would be nice, she supposed, to be away from responsibility for a while. The streets of Republic City held both bad memories and crippling expectations at every turn and she could hardly imagine what it would feel like to be somewhere where people didn’t care about who she was or what she had done. But being a police officer was who she was. It was dedication to her job and to her moral code that got her into this mess with her family, earned her two permanent scars on her cheek, and it would seem like a waste to turn her back on that, even if just temporarily.
“I have to work.” She said simply, allowing those four words to speak for the volumes racing through her brain. Kya nodded understandably, disappointment flashing across her features for a fleeting moment before being replaced with a smile. Lin gulped, suddenly feeling very tense, “Where were you thinking of going next?”
Kya launched into her plans to meet up with Bumi in Ba Sing Se before heading to Chameleon Bay and on to the Eastern Air Temple and Lin leaned back against her hands to listen with the attention that the older woman deserved. Neither of them voiced their sadness that they would be parting again so soon, that their lives were on such different paths, but Lin reasoned that it was for the best. Their time together was transitory and hence all the more precious — it would be a waste to spend it lamenting on what could never be.