[ When this started, it seemed kind of cute. Mako wants to recreate his mom's recipe! That sounds nice and nostalgic, and like it might help with the intense homesickness Mako has been feeling.
It was cute for the first few hours. Wu tried some of the sauces and gave his notes, and then was snapped at that he never tried Mako's mom's recipe, so how can he have an opinion?
It isn't often that they go to bed angry with one another, but this is certainly one of those times. Wu left him to it with some stern words about being kinder and getting his head out of his butt, but it's been hours at this point, and there isn't actually a door to their lofted bedroom, and the crash of pots keeps waking Wu up and he has had enough. He huffs and pushes himself out of bed, grabbing his dressing robe and pulling it on. Fritter groans pathetically from her customary place on his pillow, and just rolls over to try and sleep.
Wu stalks down the stairs, glaring bleary eyed at Mako's shape, wavering in the dim light. ]
It takes him a long moment to respond, because he's staring down at the empty piece of paper in front of him. He's out of options, is the thing. Mako's tried everything he could think of, every ingredient he could get his hands on that sounds even remotely like it might give him the right flavor, and still—
[ That tone stops Wu in his tracks. That was the tone Mako took with him back in April, when he was falling into bad habits, when he was ignoring Wu and throwing himself into his work, and he's doing the same thing now, Wu knows he has been, and he's tried to talk to him, but Mako keeps brushing him off and now he's glowing and smoking and Wu has had enough. ]
No.
[ He's not even scared this time. He's so much more secure in their relationship now, he can tell Mako "no" without worrying that Mako will break up with him for the smallest thing. He needs to step up, anyway. Mako needs him now, even if he doesn't want to admit it. He needs Wu to help pull him out of--whatever this is.
Corruption, he thinks. That's what it must be. He crosses his arms over his chest, standing there at the edge of their kitchen, usually so immaculate and now overrun with pots and pans and sauces in every kind of container. ]
Now while you're clanging around down here! Are you sure you even remember what her sauce tastes like?
[ It's a question like a punch, and Mako almost snaps obviously except he's brought up short by Wu's tone and, as he turns around to finally face him, by the set of his jaw.
Zuko trills quietly, hopping down off the counter, and pauses on the ground between the two of them, torn. She's coursing with anger and fear and worry herself, but half of that is aimed at Mako. He's not okay, and she knows Wu can help.
Mako wavers. He's not even angry, is the thing, except at himself, because at this point, after so long, he isn't actually sure he remembers it, maybe his brain is the problem, maybe it really is gone for good. ]
I—
[ should, he bites back, but his voice comes out thick and low and he ends up clutching at the counter with hard hands, staring at Wu. ]
[ The words are almost sulky, bitten-off as Mako half-turns back to his pile of ingredients. The kitchen really looks like a wave crashed through it but that doesn't matter because Mako has to figure this out, has to get it right. There's an urgency in everything he does, driven by a yawning pit of feeling in his belly he hasn't been able to do anything about. ]
The party's tomorrow, and the sauce isn't right, so I have to—it has to be right. Can't sleep until it is. Where's the—
[ Ginger, he doesn't say, grabbing for the half-grated root to start chopping up more. ]
[ Wu is too tired for this shit, Mako. He's too tired, and tired of Mako ignoring him and talking over him and hyper focusing on things that keep him from the life they built together. He could put up with it for a while, but he's at the end of his rope.
So, he decides that instead of trying to talk Mako out of it, to see if these powers he was given will work for him instead of against him. He takes a deep, centering breath, focusing on Mako and digging deep into his own feelings: feelings of worry, of love, of the contentment they normally can have together, these days. He focuses on the more positive feelings and tries his best to push them out, push them toward Mako to make them flow over him, trying to overpower the emotions that are keeping Mako obsessed with this project, that are keeping Mako from that contentment he knows that they both rely on, that comfort of their little life together, the safety that they can come back to when things outside are scary, when Bolin is living in a hole, when people are being snatched off the street. At least they have this, together. ]
[ Mako doesn't notice it at first. He's trying to grate the ginger, which means he's trying to find where he put the microplane in the first place—there, half-buried under an empty bottle of fish sauce; Mako pushes it aside with a clatter and then freezes as warmth and love and worry wash over him like a quiet wave. It feels a little like being in the sauna, too-close to the radiating heat of the coals. Mako wants to recoil from it, from the concern, but Wu is pushing hard. Something in him wants to snap and snarl. He shoves that down, barely, gritting his own teeth, and looks back up with his eyes blazing. ]
Wu.
[ The word is low, almost dangerous except for the pleading note in it. ]
Trying [ Wu says between gritted teeth, narrowing his eyes at Mako ] to get you to listen to me.
[ Because he doesn't know another way to deal with this. He doesn't know how to get Mako to snap out of this in any other way than talking to him. His powers are only useful to a point, and he certainly can't overpower Mako, and he certainly won't order him around. ]
[ This is half a lie, because he's caught in the storm of his own thoughts and he's being a terrible listener right now. The world feels narrow and small, like the walls of their apartment are closing in, like all the feelings Wu is pushing out are a pen, pinning Mako in place.
But he doesn't move, holding Wu's gaze with his teeth gritted. ]
I'll go work downstairs. You won't hear it, it's fine.
[ Wu lets out a frustrated groan and drops his attempts at using his powers, but they still leak out, frustration and annoyance and a touch of anger mixing with everything else. ]
That is not the problem, Mako! The problem is you won't give up this stupid project and you're literally smoking. You're burning up and you're not doing anything about it. If that was happening to me, you would be all over me to fix it, but you won't let me help you. Do you really want this to be like March, again? Do you really want that? Because I don't! I don't want you to get sick or become a monster, Mako! I want you to be okay, and you're not okay, and you won't let me help you be okay!
[ His voice gets louder and louder as he goes on, and when he finally falls silent, he's panting for breath. ]
[ Like March, he says, and Mako actually flinches, his shoulders bunching up with anger that normally he would shove back down, temper into something useful. Today, though—now, with no sleep and failure coursing through him and Wu reminding him what an awful job he's done with everything—today it sparks and ignites, and Mako's face turns hard. ]
Maybe you need to stop paying so much attention to what I'm feeling, then!
[ Wu throws his arms out, frustration rolling off of him, and he takes a step toward Mako, staring at him, wondering what he can do to get Mako to realize what he's doing. He doesn't want to lose him again, but it feels like he is. It feels like he's losing him to these delusions, to this obsession. ]
[ Wu grabs his hand with the ginger in it and pushes up his sleeve, which itself is smoking, to show his burning skin ]
Do you want me to not worry about you? Because that's not how this works. If you want to have a boyfriend, you have to let me take care of you sometimes because you're clearly not doing it yourself!
[ Mako starts, but anger and meaning hit him at once and he stops, frowning, half-frozen with his hand still on his own sleeve. His eyes are bright and burning, red at the edges. ]
[ Wu's hands are balled into fists at his sides, and the anger turns to hurt again. He sucks in a breath ]
But I want to, because I love you and I care about you, and you're letting yourself get corrupted when you could let me help you, but you're too stubborn to!
[ Mako's face and his gut tighten all at once. Zuko makes a tiny sound and finally launches herself from Mako's shoulders. She herself is blazing hot like a tiny star, and scurrying for Wu. ]
[ Wu flinches at the sudden movement, then at the stove, but he holds out his arms for Zuko, so hot against his skin. ]
Shh, shh, it's okay, baby.
[ He focuses on her for a long moment, trying to catch his breath, to control himself before he starts yelling again. After seeing himself in that memory, yelling at that poor Gaoling official, he doesn't want to let himself go that far. It's scary to think that he could.
It's a good question and if Wu weren't projecting all this feeling at him Mako would probably just snap and try to move on, but he feels sort of pinned, exposed from his own words, his face hot and the air around him hotter. Zuko—Zuko is with Wu, even she left him. Mako's fingers tighten on the edge of the counter. It's keeping him upright. Why can't he? Why can't he need people? Why can't, why ]
Because
[ The word is gritted out, forced between teeth and truer for it ]
[ It kind of hurts, to hear that. It hurts down into his gut, that part of him that still doesn't fully believe that Mako loves him, that he's just putting up with him for some reason, that part rears up again, like it did in October, like he's been working so hard to believe Mako that Mako does love him, that he can trust their relationship.
But it's hard. It's hard to trust him, when Mako won't return that trust. When Mako won't let himself lean on Wu, at all, for anything, even when he's clearly hurting, when his skin is flaking away in fire and ash. Wu lets out a shaky breath, leveling Mako with an impassive gaze ]
Fine. If that's how you feel.
[ He wants to leave. He wants to protect himself, to go hide with Bolin in his hole under the Raccoon Room, wants to pretend that nothing in wrong like Bolin is, like that is a totally acceptable response to your boyfriend not needing you anymore.
But he can't choose that. Him a year ago might have. He might have run away, he might not have fought for Mako, but him now? He has to. He has to, even if he loses. He would rather try, than know he could have done more, even if it hurts. ]
[ Mako's eyes flick up, a little gasp of breath escaping like he got shot except, really, it's just a curl of guilt and anger and helplessness spiking through him like sparks.
They'll just let you down, kid, Zolt had sneered at him once, and Mako had scoffed and told him he knew that because he'd already learned exactly how cruel the world could be. Relying on other people is the best way to be let down, but Wu...
Wu wants to help him. Wu, who can barely carry a shopping bag for two minutes without handing it over to Mako to hold, Wu who is looking at him with hurt and determination in equal measure on his face. Who has weathered so many storms in his life, who looks like a steady rock right now in the storm swirling through Mako. (Isn't he the rock? Isn't that what he does?)
[ He almost breaks right then. Mako looks so tired, so lost, and he's finally letting down his guard. It makes Wu want to cry, but the stamps down on that impulse, instead holding out a hand for Mako, intent to pull him in, to hold him, to show him that Wu is here for him, that Wu wants to be here for him, that Wu can offer him something he needs. ]
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It was cute for the first few hours. Wu tried some of the sauces and gave his notes, and then was snapped at that he never tried Mako's mom's recipe, so how can he have an opinion?
It isn't often that they go to bed angry with one another, but this is certainly one of those times. Wu left him to it with some stern words about being kinder and getting his head out of his butt, but it's been hours at this point, and there isn't actually a door to their lofted bedroom, and the crash of pots keeps waking Wu up and he has had enough. He huffs and pushes himself out of bed, grabbing his dressing robe and pulling it on. Fritter groans pathetically from her customary place on his pillow, and just rolls over to try and sleep.
Wu stalks down the stairs, glaring bleary eyed at Mako's shape, wavering in the dim light. ]
What could possibly still be wrong with it?!
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It takes him a long moment to respond, because he's staring down at the empty piece of paper in front of him. He's out of options, is the thing. Mako's tried everything he could think of, every ingredient he could get his hands on that sounds even remotely like it might give him the right flavor, and still—
Still— ]
Go back to bed, Wu.
[ His voice is a ragged thing. ]
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No.
[ He's not even scared this time. He's so much more secure in their relationship now, he can tell Mako "no" without worrying that Mako will break up with him for the smallest thing. He needs to step up, anyway. Mako needs him now, even if he doesn't want to admit it. He needs Wu to help pull him out of--whatever this is.
Corruption, he thinks. That's what it must be. He crosses his arms over his chest, standing there at the edge of their kitchen, usually so immaculate and now overrun with pots and pans and sauces in every kind of container. ]
Now while you're clanging around down here! Are you sure you even remember what her sauce tastes like?
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Zuko trills quietly, hopping down off the counter, and pauses on the ground between the two of them, torn. She's coursing with anger and fear and worry herself, but half of that is aimed at Mako. He's not okay, and she knows Wu can help.
Mako wavers. He's not even angry, is the thing, except at himself, because at this point, after so long, he isn't actually sure he remembers it, maybe his brain is the problem, maybe it really is gone for good. ]
I—
[ should, he bites back, but his voice comes out thick and low and he ends up clutching at the counter with hard hands, staring at Wu. ]
I woke you up.
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[ He knows that Mako can't handle a party on a bad day, especially not a day when he's tired and stressed about something as stupid as sauce.
Wu lets out a breath and steps into the mess, watching Mako's face ]
You want to tell me what this is really about?
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[ The words are almost sulky, bitten-off as Mako half-turns back to his pile of ingredients. The kitchen really looks like a wave crashed through it but that doesn't matter because Mako has to figure this out, has to get it right. There's an urgency in everything he does, driven by a yawning pit of feeling in his belly he hasn't been able to do anything about. ]
The party's tomorrow, and the sauce isn't right, so I have to—it has to be right. Can't sleep until it is. Where's the—
[ Ginger, he doesn't say, grabbing for the half-grated root to start chopping up more. ]
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So, he decides that instead of trying to talk Mako out of it, to see if these powers he was given will work for him instead of against him. He takes a deep, centering breath, focusing on Mako and digging deep into his own feelings: feelings of worry, of love, of the contentment they normally can have together, these days. He focuses on the more positive feelings and tries his best to push them out, push them toward Mako to make them flow over him, trying to overpower the emotions that are keeping Mako obsessed with this project, that are keeping Mako from that contentment he knows that they both rely on, that comfort of their little life together, the safety that they can come back to when things outside are scary, when Bolin is living in a hole, when people are being snatched off the street. At least they have this, together. ]
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Wu.
[ The word is low, almost dangerous except for the pleading note in it. ]
What are you doing.
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[ Because he doesn't know another way to deal with this. He doesn't know how to get Mako to snap out of this in any other way than talking to him. His powers are only useful to a point, and he certainly can't overpower Mako, and he certainly won't order him around. ]
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[ This is half a lie, because he's caught in the storm of his own thoughts and he's being a terrible listener right now. The world feels narrow and small, like the walls of their apartment are closing in, like all the feelings Wu is pushing out are a pen, pinning Mako in place.
But he doesn't move, holding Wu's gaze with his teeth gritted. ]
I'll go work downstairs. You won't hear it, it's fine.
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That is not the problem, Mako! The problem is you won't give up this stupid project and you're literally smoking. You're burning up and you're not doing anything about it. If that was happening to me, you would be all over me to fix it, but you won't let me help you. Do you really want this to be like March, again? Do you really want that? Because I don't! I don't want you to get sick or become a monster, Mako! I want you to be okay, and you're not okay, and you won't let me help you be okay!
[ His voice gets louder and louder as he goes on, and when he finally falls silent, he's panting for breath. ]
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Maybe you need to stop paying so much attention to what I'm feeling, then!
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[ Wu throws his arms out, frustration rolling off of him, and he takes a step toward Mako, staring at him, wondering what he can do to get Mako to realize what he's doing. He doesn't want to lose him again, but it feels like he is. It feels like he's losing him to these delusions, to this obsession. ]
You're not exactly trying to tamp it down!
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[ He snarls wordlessly and picks up the ginger again to start grating it into a small mound directly on the counter. ]
This is fine. This doesn't have anything to do with you. Just go to bed. I'll be done soon.
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[ Wu grabs his hand with the ginger in it and pushes up his sleeve, which itself is smoking, to show his burning skin ]
Do you want me to not worry about you? Because that's not how this works. If you want to have a boyfriend, you have to let me take care of you sometimes because you're clearly not doing it yourself!
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[ Mako yanks his hand back, properly yelling now as he shoves his sleeve back down and backs away. ]
You don't need to worry about me all time, Wu!
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What if I want to? What if I want to take care of you?
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[ Mako starts, but anger and meaning hit him at once and he stops, frowning, half-frozen with his hand still on his own sleeve. His eyes are bright and burning, red at the edges. ]
Why would.
You don't have to. Is my point. I don't need...
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[ Wu's hands are balled into fists at his sides, and the anger turns to hurt again. He sucks in a breath ]
But I want to, because I love you and I care about you, and you're letting yourself get corrupted when you could let me help you, but you're too stubborn to!
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That's not what I meant!
[ The stove behind Mako ignites unprompted. ]
I can't need you, Wu!
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Shh, shh, it's okay, baby.
[ He focuses on her for a long moment, trying to catch his breath, to control himself before he starts yelling again. After seeing himself in that memory, yelling at that poor Gaoling official, he doesn't want to let himself go that far. It's scary to think that he could.
Steeling himself, he looks back up at Mako ]
Why not? Why can't you?
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It's a good question and if Wu weren't projecting all this feeling at him Mako would probably just snap and try to move on, but he feels sort of pinned, exposed from his own words, his face hot and the air around him hotter. Zuko—Zuko is with Wu, even she left him. Mako's fingers tighten on the edge of the counter. It's keeping him upright. Why can't he? Why can't he need people? Why can't, why ]
Because
[ The word is gritted out, forced between teeth and truer for it ]
Needing things isn't who I am.
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[ It kind of hurts, to hear that. It hurts down into his gut, that part of him that still doesn't fully believe that Mako loves him, that he's just putting up with him for some reason, that part rears up again, like it did in October, like he's been working so hard to believe Mako that Mako does love him, that he can trust their relationship.
But it's hard. It's hard to trust him, when Mako won't return that trust. When Mako won't let himself lean on Wu, at all, for anything, even when he's clearly hurting, when his skin is flaking away in fire and ash. Wu lets out a shaky breath, leveling Mako with an impassive gaze ]
Fine. If that's how you feel.
[ He wants to leave. He wants to protect himself, to go hide with Bolin in his hole under the Raccoon Room, wants to pretend that nothing in wrong like Bolin is, like that is a totally acceptable response to your boyfriend not needing you anymore.
But he can't choose that. Him a year ago might have. He might have run away, he might not have fought for Mako, but him now? He has to. He has to, even if he loses. He would rather try, than know he could have done more, even if it hurts. ]
Then-- can you want me? To help you.
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They'll just let you down, kid, Zolt had sneered at him once, and Mako had scoffed and told him he knew that because he'd already learned exactly how cruel the world could be. Relying on other people is the best way to be let down, but Wu...
Wu wants to help him. Wu, who can barely carry a shopping bag for two minutes without handing it over to Mako to hold, Wu who is looking at him with hurt and determination in equal measure on his face. Who has weathered so many storms in his life, who looks like a steady rock right now in the storm swirling through Mako. (Isn't he the rock? Isn't that what he does?)
Mako swallows, silently, and nods. ]
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Then let me. Please? I want to.
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