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A heavy rain pelted Air Temple Island—heavy enough to block the city from view outside of Korra’s window. The shelf beneath it was soaked, but Korra had asked Asami to leave it open. She kept her head turned toward it, as if the rain were more interesting than Asami’s reading.
Asami bit her lip. Korra had hardly said a dozen words today—much like any other. The voice that always made her smile, always so passionate and intense… Just like the rest of Korra, even when it was there, most of it wasn’t.
Reading in the low light was starting to strain her eyes. Asami stood to switch on the lights—she’d read as many stuffy old books about past Avatars as Korra wanted, so long as she could see the page. Though she wished Korra would change up the subjects a little. Maybe something without so much fighting, that didn’t always end with death?
“Hey,” Korra said.
Asami turned toward the voice, smiling. “Yeah?”
“Could you bring some tea?”
She forced her smile steady. “Of course. It’ll just take a few minutes.”
Korra didn’t respond, or nod. She stared at the rain.
Asami stepped into the hallway with a sigh. Two White Lotus guards flanked the door, both women. “Tea,” Asami said.
The women nodded, then stepped into Korra’s room. It was a well-established pattern at this point: Korra would let Asami read to her, feed her, dress her, do anything else, but when it came to the bathroom, she flatly refused to let Asami be involved.
Asami chose to think of that as a good thing. At least Korra still fought about something.
No, that wasn’t fair. Korra wasn’t out of fight—she was fighting all the time. She was fighting a body that could barely move. She was fighting a spirit that had been beaten and scarred. Everyone expected her to get better, they’d come and visit to see how Korra was doing. But she wasn’t going to ‘get’ better—it was going to be a battle every inch of the way for Korra to even walk again. Some days, she couldn’t bring herself to try.
Stepping into Korra’s room every morning broke Asami’s heart. Keeping a smile on her face—sometimes it was easy. Korra was still her favorite person in the world, even if she was still figuring out exactly what that meant. If Korra could keep fighting, after all she’d been through, then Asami could find the strength to be there for her. That was that.
She took her time in the kitchen, piling a tray with some of Korra’s favorite snacks. It was a chore to get her to eat some days, but Asami hoped if she could find just the right food, Korra would perk up. The way Korra used to shovel meals into her face—she’d called it her 'Water Tribe appetite'—that would come back too, right?
The White Lotus guards were waiting when Asami got back. “Done already?”
They shook their heads. “She sent us out right away. Didn’t need anything.”
Asami frowned as she entered. Korra never actually wanted tea…
She saw Korra on the floor and dropped the tray. “Korra! Are you—”
Korra waved her off, weakly. She had pulled herself the few feet from her bed to the wheelchair, and had half-climbed the front of it. Her face was covered in sweat.
Asami strode around her, wrapping her arms beneath Korra’s and helping her into the chair. The Avatar let herself be helped—she was too weak not to.
“Korra, what are you doing? You’re getting a little stronger every week, but you can’t push yourself too hard.”
Korra’s hands fell into her lap. “Wanted… wanted to see the rain.”
Asami ran her fingers along Korra’s arm. “Well, alright. Let me turn you around—”
“Outside,” she panted. “Wanted… to go outside. Knew you wouldn’t let me.”
“You knew that, did you,” Asami said, raising an eyebrow. She straightened Korra in her chair, then stepped behind it. “I’m here to get you healthy, not to keep you dry.”
“Miss Sato?” one of the guards asked, standing in the doorway. “Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s fine,” Asami said. Korra’s wheels crunched over broken dishes. She winced—she’d buy Pema a whole new set. “We’re just going for a stroll.”
The guard looked baffled, but Asami nodded her to the side. She obliged, and the young women moved out into the hall, and from there, into the covered walkway between the buildings.
Korra raised a trembling hand. “Out there.”
“Korra…”
“I’m Water Tribe. What’s rain gonna do?”
Asami sighed, and relented, wheeling Korra down one of the ramps they’d had installed. Rain pelted against her skin immediately, weighing down her hair. Thunder rumbled in the distance. As soon as Asami set the brakes, Korra closed her eyes, tilting back her head.
Given how much Korra had wanted to come out here, Asami had been hoping for some reaction. Had she just wanted to feel the rain against her face? Smell it as it washed out the courtyard? What!? Asami would do anything to help, if Korra would only tell her how. What did she want?
She crossed her arms, shivering as the water worked its way into her clothes. Korra was shaking too. This was a bad idea, Korra couldn’t afford to get sick. If she was cold—
Cold? Korra? She walked around the South Pole in short sleeves. She was weaker now, but would someone who grew up in a house made of ice ever change that much?
Asami leaned over the wheelchair, gently pushing some of Korra’s hair from her face. The Avatar’s eyes were still shut, her lips downturned. Her shoulders shook, and her chest…
Korra was sobbing. Out here, in the rain, where nobody would be able to tell.
Asami staggered, hands covering her own lips. She’d seen Korra cry before. She’d seen tear-stains on her pillows, seen the tracks down her cheeks. Less, the last few weeks… had she been holding it in? Trying to bruise her way through it, like she did everything else?
It sounded ridiculous, but then, Korra often was. Usually it was sweet, but to see Korra so alone, so isolated, that she had to cry in the rain…
Why did she have to do that!? Was she afraid Asami would judge her? Pity her? The last thing Korra should feel was isolated. More people supported her now than ever had. Her friends and family came to visit all the time. Asami all-but lived with her and by her and for her. Why couldn’t she let her see her cry?
Asami wanted to scream, or bury her face in Korra’s lap and sob herself. Somehow, she kept it together. This wasn’t about her. This was something Korra needed. It probably made as little sense to her as it did to Asami, but Asami would be damned if Korra didn’t get every last thing that might help.
“Is everything alright?” Tenzin asked behind them. Pema and several of the White Lotus guards were right behind.
Asami waved them back. “Korra wanted to spend some time outside.” Thunder rumbled over the city, somewhere across the rain-covered bay. Asami shook her sodden hair over her shoulder, and smiled as if it were a sunny day with a light breeze—but she flashed him a hard look.
Tenzin understood. “Alright. When you are ready to come inside, Kya is preparing a warm bath.”
She exhaled, nodding thanks, then turned to kneel at Korra’s side. She reached over the arm rest to clutch Korra’s hands, leaning her head against the Avatar’s shoulder.
Korra’s head tilted to the side, resting against Asami’s. She heard tiny whimpers beneath the pattering rainfall.
Asami’s legs began to cramp. She didn’t care. Her clothes stuck to her skin, and though Korra might be immune to the cold, Asami fought not to shiver. It didn’t matter. She just kept herself close to Korra, squeezing and stroking her hands, until the other woman cried herself out.
They were there over an hour.
Thunder rolled closer. And gradually, Asami realized that she was the only one still shaking. “K-Korra?” she asked. “Are you r-ready to go inside?”
Korra’s head moved. Asami stood, then nearly pitched over as blood rushed back into her legs. She leaned against Korra’s wheelchair for a minute, then switched off the brakes, rolling her back toward the walkway.
Tenzin and Pema were still waiting, hugging each other’s sides. “I’ll take Korra to her bath,” Pema said.
“It’s alright,” Asami said, her legs still shaky.
“Yes, it is,” Pema agreed, somehow interposing herself between Asami and the wheelchair. Asami looked to Tenzin, confused, and got her own 'don’t argue’ glare right back.
“I’ll catch up in a few minutes,” Asami called after. Korra didn’t respond.
She and Tenzin watched them go. He sighed once they were out of sight. “Asami, we’re all starting to worry.”
“Korra is fighting as hard as she can,” she said, eyes narrowing and back growing stiff. “This isn’t easy for her, she can’t just—”
“We’re worried about you, Asami.”
Her mouth gaped, working silently like a pelican-fish.
“You spend so much time here,” Tenzin continued. “And it’s hard to see, but I really do think Korra feels better when you’re around. But you’re putting so much of your life into helping Korra, are you leaving any room for yourself?”
Asami looked down, resting her hands on the walkway rail. “She put all of herself into protecting the world. Even when it didn’t want her to. Somebody has to give back.”
Tenzin set his hand on her shoulder. “You love her very much, don’t you?”
“Of course. We all do.”
“Right,” Tenzin said, skeptically. “What about your company?”
“It’s… it’s important. But I left someone capable in charge, I don’t need to be there, day-to-day.”
“How about your Satomobiles? Or the biplanes? All those other gadgets you used to tinker with?”
“They aren’t important right now.”
“They made you happy.”
“Happy? How can I be happy? Do you know how hard it is, smiling for Korra all the time? Watching her sit there like she’s barely alive, feeding her and having half the food dribble down her cheek? We used to talk all the time, about everything, and now either I have to talk to myself, or just bear silence. And I know, I know it’s not me, I know it’s all the hurt in her, but when she doesn’t reply, it’s like a stab in the gut, and—”
“She loves you too, Asami.”
Something inside her broke. She turned into Tenzin, burying her face in his robe, and let out all the tears she’d been holding back.
Asami didn’t maintain Korra’s quiet dignity. She sobbed until she coughed, fingernails clawing into Tenzin’s robe. Everything she’d wanted to do with Korra, everything she’d wanted to say, all of it had been buried. None of it could happen, nothing could be said until Korra was well. Maybe she did love her back, like Tenzin said. She was desperate to believe it, and afraid to. It didn’t matter, unless Korra got better.
What if she never did? What if Korra was in that chair for the rest of her life?
No, no she would get better. Asami knew it, knew it with every inch of her being, because she couldn’t live in a world where it wasn’t true. It had to be the case, so it was.
If only she could get Korra to believe it.
She didn’t know how long she cried—maybe as long as Korra had. It had grown dark, in the meantime. Tenzin sensed when she was done, producing a handkerchief for her, then quietly guiding her back inside. “I called Future Industries this morning, by the way,” he said. “They’re sending some blueprints and new designs for you to look over tomorrow, or as soon as this storm lets up. I’ll have them sent to your room.”
“Thanks,” Asami croaked. Why say this, all of a sudden?
“I also asked them to send a drafting table so you could go over the blueprints and make adjustments. I’ll have them set that up in Korra’s room.”
Asami stopped. She could do her design work and still be with Korra. Why hadn’t she thought of that? “I… Thank you.”
“There’s no need for that,” Tenzin said, turning her face toward his. He smiled. “Now, go on inside. Korra’s bath is probably over by now, though you might want to wash up yourself.”
She wasn’t dripping wet any longer, but she still felt drained. “I’ll make sure to, don’t worry.” She strode inside, her resolve stronger than it had been in weeks.
Korra would get better. Asami would be there to see it. But she was going to find a little time for her own life too.
Maybe that was what Korra was so worried about? Maybe that’s why she’d come outside? Everyone was already doing so much, if they saw she was still hurting, maybe they’d give more?
Asami forgot about the bath, and went straight to Korra’s room. A light was on beneath the door. She breezed past the guards.
Kya was helping Korra settle into bed. Both women looked up when she came in, then stared.
She’d come in with something to say, but their stares made her lose it. “What?”
“Um,” Kya said, picking up a mirror from the dresser and walking it toward her.
Asami felt her face flush. Her makeup. What the rain hadn’t destroyed, her own crying had finished off. Dark mascara tracks trailed down her cheeks. Lipstick smudged up toward her nose. Eyeliner looked like bruises, and rouge looked like she had some sort of pox.
She handed back the mirror, and saw Korra, her eyes still wide.
Asami put her hand on her hips, stalking toward the bed with faux-seriousness. “Well, do you like my new look? I spent the last hour working on it. Be honest.”
Korra reached a hand up. Asami took it, sitting on the bed by her waist.
“You’ve never been more beautiful,” Korra said.
Kya squeaked. They both turned toward her. She had her hands pressed together in front of her lips, and backed toward the door. “Ignore me. I’ll leave. Keep talking.”
Asami chuckled, turning back to Korra. “You know, you’re always so strong. You have the whole world on those shoulders of yours, and any time anybody needs you, you’re always there.”
She leaned forward, her free hand tracing back Korra’s cheek to cradle her head. Korra leaned into it. “In hard times, I always knew you’d be there. For the world. For me. Remember when we fought those biker bandits, and you had my back?” Korra nodded, eyes trembling. “Well, now I’ve got yours. Let me be your strength, Korra. Today, tomorrow… as long as it takes. As long as you need it.”
“If…” Korra swallowed. “If I get better, what then? Will you still have my back?”
“I’d rather be at your side,” Asami said, leaning down to push Korra’s hair behind her ear. “You’re my best friend, and I’m with you to the end, Avatar or no. You gotta deal with it.”
Korra took a breath, turning toward the wall. “I… I was thinking of going back home.”
Asami felt herself tremble, a shiver not at all related to how soaked her clothes still were. “Back home.”
“Just… just for a little while. Katara is down there, and I could be with my parents, away from… away from everything here.”
From… everything? “I… of course, Korra. Whatever you need.”
“It’ll just be for a few weeks, I’m sure,” she said, turning back to Asami. “I’ll be back in no time.”
Asami couldn’t imagine what Katara could do that Kya hadn’t tried. Korra could barely move her legs--this would be more than a 'few weeks' recovery. “I’ll book my fastest ship, then. To get us there as soon as possible.”
Korra blinked, and Asami knew she’d overstepped. “Asami… you don’t need to do that.”
“Would you rather take an airship? I could—”
“No, I mean… you need to get back to your company, Asami! To your own life.”
Asami bit her lip. Why was everyone suddenly so concerned with her life? “Do you think I could focus on that, knowing that you’re hurting, and I can’t help you?”
“Do you think I could focus on healing, knowing that you’re giving everything up to help?” Korra took a deep breath. “Asami… it means so much to me that you’re willing to do that. But… you can’t build me new legs. You can’t buy back my Avatar State. I have to do all that on my own.”
Asami bit back an argument. She know Korra couldn’t, knew this was a far bigger challenge than Korra wanted to admit. But she also knew that Korra needed to try. To prove something to herself. She was setting herself up for so much more pain and—
Asami shoved the thought aside, and gave Korra a smile. “Okay. Like I said, whatever you need. But if you change your mind, or if you just want me to visit, let me know.”
“I will,” Korra said, meeting Asami’s gaze.
She turned, but Korra caught her hand. “Maybe… maybe once I get back, you can give me another driving lesson. The Avatar should know how to drive, right?”
“Of course,” Asami said, making herself breathe. This wasn’t a rejection. This was what Korra needed to do. “And after that, we’ll graduate up to airships, and move through every other vehicle you’ve crashed.”
Almost, almost , Korra smiled, like the sun trying to force its way through the rain. She squeezed Asami’s hand. “I can’t wait.”
Asami squeezed back, and stared into Korra’s eyes, and knew. Knew that she could wait. For as long as Korra needed. “Neither can I.”
Outside, night had fallen. The rain poured on and on.