[ 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. ]
[ Mako mumbles, watching smoke shimmer off his own palm, but Wu is looking at him soft and patient, holding out his hand without hesitation. Mako hesitates, but reaches out after a long, slow moment and curls his fingers into Wu's, soft and loose and then tight all at once. ]
[ Wu lets out a breath, and steps in to wrap himself around Mako, holding him tightly. He presses his face into Mako's throat. He smells burnt, like smoldering embers, but he still smells like himself, too. Familiar and comforting and something he's been missing the last month without quite realizing it, to wrapped up in his own stuff to pay as much attention as he should have to Mako ]
I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let it get this bad. I want, I want you to be okay.
[ Hugging Wu is always like this. Like water rushing in to put out flames, like the soothing burst of steam as everything goes quiet. Mako stifles a sound, keeps it trapped behind his teeth and wraps himself around Wu regardless, pressing his face hard into the sleep-messy puff of Wu's hair, feeling the familiar hard edges of his narrow shoulders and his fingers on Mako's back, the puff of breath against his skin. Light flares around them orange-bright and then quiets, subsiding slowly like dying coal. ]
You didn't—
[ Mako's voice is muffled. He turns his head just a little, so Wu can hear him, because those words stick in his gut. ]
Maybe not, but-- I should have paid more attention. I know, I know things have been bad. I just, I didn't think-- You're literally burning up, Mako.
[ His voice is thick now, tears threatening to spill as he presses his face into Mako's throat. This isn't about him. This is about Mako ]
You're burning! You're, you're, I don't want you to become, become a monster. I don't want you to die, of course I don't want you to die! I want, I want to help. Please let me help you. What do you need? What can I do? Why, why is this happening?
[ Mako snaps louder than he means to, but it's a puff of anger that disappears as quick as it came, and he slumps again, wincing at the echo of his own voice. Zuko trills and twines up from Wu's chest onto Mako's shoulders, shoving her small face into his hair. Her warmth, and the feeling radiating off Wu, is a grounding thing, keeping Mako's feet tethered to earth. The smoke begins to fade. ]
I'm—sorry. I'm not. I'm...
[ Fine, he starts to say, but obviously that's not true, and so he bites the word back with a hard sound and tries again, smaller and sadder and more real: ]
I can't make the sauce. I don't remember it. I don't... remember her voice, either.
[ Wu holds him tighter, wrapping himself fully around Mako, putting everything he can into his hug. He loves Mako, he loves Mako so deeply and fiercely that it scares him sometimes, but he loves him all the same and he just wants Mako to be okay, whatever that means. He wants him to be okay and safe and not burning up from his own sadness and homesickness. ]
The sauce smells pretty good to me. Even if it's not, not your mother's.
[ But that probably doesn't help. He doesn't know what will. He doesn't know how to help except to be here, to distract Mako, to try and pull him back down to earth. ]
[ Mako trips over the words but that isn't even the problem here: the real one tumbles off his tongue moments later, rising through him like the unstoppable tide. It comes out in a rush of desperate words. ]
What if she—if she came here, and... had no idea who I was, Wu? This place isn't home. I've changed so much. She'd probably have no idea who I was. I don't even know that, and if anyone should, I should. I thought I was over this.
[ Wu is just glad that Mako's talking to him, telling him the problem, now. He strokes gently down Mako's back ]
I think she'd be pretty excited to get to meet you. Yeah, you're no the same person you were when you were eight, but who is?
[ He pulls back just enough to look at Mako, meeting his eyes ]
So, you want to figure out who you are. That's the problem, right? You, you're changing, you aren't the same person you were before you came to Deerington. Right?
[ Mako isn't even following rational questions with rational questions and some part of him knows that, but he's exhausted and wrung-out and slowly simmering down, and he doesn't know how to hold up his own walls anymore. They're crumbled around his feet. ]
Am I... the same person I was? [ Wu's voice is gentle, and he squeezes Mako's shoulders, wishing this was easier, but Mako needs him right now. He needs to be stronger ] No, I'm not. I, I think that's a good thing. I've grown, a lot. I've changed. I like who I am, now.
[ And he didn't really, before. Learning to love himself has been a journey, and an important one ]
[ Right. Wu was afraid, crying on him, even, afraid that who he was wasn't enough, that Mako wouldn't like him. Mako had told him just to be himself. Stupid advice to give when he can't even follow it, but he clutches at Wu a little harder, bowing his head. The world feels cramped and small, closing around him. ]
[ Mako knows that, he knows Mako does. Mako didn't like him before, either. Wu didn't like himself, really at all. He didn't think much of himself, and that was really the problem, with all of it.
[ Mako mutters, his shoulders and his jaw going tight all at once, like he's ready for a blow. It smells like ginger and garlic and the scent is an attack, curling into his nose, like the kitchen from home. His mom would make this sauce for hours, enough to last them nearly the year once the holidays were over. In retrospect, it was when they made most of their money, so they must have bought a lot of food all at once, preserved it for the leaner times. Mako never got to ask. Would he have taken over if he'd grown up with them? Learned to run a business instead of Triple Threat numbers?
Would he have stayed with Beifong if he'd stayed home, worked his way up to chief? Would he and Wu have been anything long-term, would he have stayed hard and strong and unbreakable, not the soft thing he is now? ]
[ That hurts, and Wu knows this isn't about him, but it still hurts. It hurts because Mako has been distant for weeks, because Mako is letting himself get hurt by his own neglect, because Wu hasn't done enough, hasn't help him, thought that Mako could sort this out for himself when clearly he can't, clearly he needs help and Wu said he would help and he let it get this bad, and Mako
Mako thinks that Wu doesn't know him. But Wu feels a certainty in his gut that he does. He knows who Mako is. He knows the core of him, even if everything else is changing. Even if Mako is growing, he's still Mako, he's still the brave, strong, handsome, thoughtful, hard working man that Wu met all those years ago, who he fell in love with without really meaning to, who he can't imagine his life without. ]
Yes, I do.
[ His voice is soft, barely audible, when he says it. He doesn't move away, stroking Mako's cheek. ]
Maybe not all of you, maybe not, not who you're going to become, but I know you. I love you. Yes, you're different, but you're still you.
It's almost a relief to hear outside his own head. Mako knows he's changing, knows that things are shifting inside him as fast as the ground beneath his feet. He doesn't know what to do with those changes, where to put them, whether to keep them. He's opening up, and that's terrifying: every step he takes into a world where he tells people the things he's feeling is one that exposes him just a little more to getting hurt and turning jaded and sad like the people who have been here for a long time. He thought he was the kind of person who could just accept the present, who wasn't sentimental enough to hold onto the pointless past but here he is, trying to grasp at the straws of it.
What does it mean, his mind keeps asking. Is it okay? Am I okay?
It isn't a new question. ]
I don't know if that's true. I just... I don't know.
That's okay. [ Wu says it quietly, staying close, watching him with soft eyes. His annoyance is gone, now, replaced by just wanting Mako to be okay, wanting him to be able to sleep and go about his day without the threat of burning up into nothing ] You don't have to know. And before you say anything-- I know you hate that. I know you hate not knowing stuff, but it's really okay. We can figure it out, it just, it's not going to happen all at once.
[ He knows that, because it happened to him, too. He was so unsure of himself, so scared that he was different, tried so hard to shape who he wanted to be, only to become someone else entirely. It's terrifying, but he can help Mako, he thinks. He can help him.
[ To bed. It takes a moment for the words to filter through the fog. The air thick and strange and unfamiliar, and Mako shifts slightly, glancing around at the mess. ]
[ Mako almost protests. He resists for a moment, making Wu pull harder, sure that if he leaves he's never going to get the recipe at all and that they're just going to wake up to a horrible mess, but it's like Wu's words flip a switch in him. Exhaustion washes over him in a cold wave a moment later, and Mako lets out a slow breath and relents, letting himself be pulled away from ginger and soy sauce and tamarind, up toward their room. ]
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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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[ Mako mumbles, watching smoke shimmer off his own palm, but Wu is looking at him soft and patient, holding out his hand without hesitation. Mako hesitates, but reaches out after a long, slow moment and curls his fingers into Wu's, soft and loose and then tight all at once. ]
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I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let it get this bad. I want, I want you to be okay.
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You didn't—
[ Mako's voice is muffled. He turns his head just a little, so Wu can hear him, because those words stick in his gut. ]
This isn't on you.
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Maybe not, but-- I should have paid more attention. I know, I know things have been bad. I just, I didn't think-- You're literally burning up, Mako.
[ His voice is thick now, tears threatening to spill as he presses his face into Mako's throat. This isn't about him. This is about Mako ]
You're burning! You're, you're, I don't want you to become, become a monster. I don't want you to die, of course I don't want you to die! I want, I want to help. Please let me help you. What do you need? What can I do? Why, why is this happening?
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[ Mako snaps louder than he means to, but it's a puff of anger that disappears as quick as it came, and he slumps again, wincing at the echo of his own voice. Zuko trills and twines up from Wu's chest onto Mako's shoulders, shoving her small face into his hair. Her warmth, and the feeling radiating off Wu, is a grounding thing, keeping Mako's feet tethered to earth. The smoke begins to fade. ]
I'm—sorry. I'm not. I'm...
[ Fine, he starts to say, but obviously that's not true, and so he bites the word back with a hard sound and tries again, smaller and sadder and more real: ]
I can't make the sauce. I don't remember it. I don't... remember her voice, either.
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The sauce smells pretty good to me. Even if it's not, not your mother's.
[ But that probably doesn't help. He doesn't know what will. He doesn't know how to help except to be here, to distract Mako, to try and pull him back down to earth. ]
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[ Mako trips over the words but that isn't even the problem here: the real one tumbles off his tongue moments later, rising through him like the unstoppable tide. It comes out in a rush of desperate words. ]
What if she—if she came here, and... had no idea who I was, Wu? This place isn't home. I've changed so much. She'd probably have no idea who I was. I don't even know that, and if anyone should, I should. I thought I was over this.
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[ Wu is just glad that Mako's talking to him, telling him the problem, now. He strokes gently down Mako's back ]
I think she'd be pretty excited to get to meet you. Yeah, you're no the same person you were when you were eight, but who is?
[ He pulls back just enough to look at Mako, meeting his eyes ]
So, you want to figure out who you are. That's the problem, right? You, you're changing, you aren't the same person you were before you came to Deerington. Right?
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[ Mako isn't even following rational questions with rational questions and some part of him knows that, but he's exhausted and wrung-out and slowly simmering down, and he doesn't know how to hold up his own walls anymore. They're crumbled around his feet. ]
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[ And he didn't really, before. Learning to love himself has been a journey, and an important one ]
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[ Right. Wu was afraid, crying on him, even, afraid that who he was wasn't enough, that Mako wouldn't like him. Mako had told him just to be himself. Stupid advice to give when he can't even follow it, but he clutches at Wu a little harder, bowing his head. The world feels cramped and small, closing around him. ]
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[ Mako knows that, he knows Mako does. Mako didn't like him before, either. Wu didn't like himself, really at all. He didn't think much of himself, and that was really the problem, with all of it.
He gently brushes Mako's cheek ]
I like who you are.
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[ Mako mutters, his shoulders and his jaw going tight all at once, like he's ready for a blow. It smells like ginger and garlic and the scent is an attack, curling into his nose, like the kitchen from home. His mom would make this sauce for hours, enough to last them nearly the year once the holidays were over. In retrospect, it was when they made most of their money, so they must have bought a lot of food all at once, preserved it for the leaner times. Mako never got to ask. Would he have taken over if he'd grown up with them? Learned to run a business instead of Triple Threat numbers?
Would he have stayed with Beifong if he'd stayed home, worked his way up to chief? Would he and Wu have been anything long-term, would he have stayed hard and strong and unbreakable, not the soft thing he is now? ]
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Mako thinks that Wu doesn't know him. But Wu feels a certainty in his gut that he does. He knows who Mako is. He knows the core of him, even if everything else is changing. Even if Mako is growing, he's still Mako, he's still the brave, strong, handsome, thoughtful, hard working man that Wu met all those years ago, who he fell in love with without really meaning to, who he can't imagine his life without. ]
Yes, I do.
[ His voice is soft, barely audible, when he says it. He doesn't move away, stroking Mako's cheek. ]
Maybe not all of you, maybe not, not who you're going to become, but I know you. I love you. Yes, you're different, but you're still you.
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It's almost a relief to hear outside his own head. Mako knows he's changing, knows that things are shifting inside him as fast as the ground beneath his feet. He doesn't know what to do with those changes, where to put them, whether to keep them. He's opening up, and that's terrifying: every step he takes into a world where he tells people the things he's feeling is one that exposes him just a little more to getting hurt and turning jaded and sad like the people who have been here for a long time. He thought he was the kind of person who could just accept the present, who wasn't sentimental enough to hold onto the pointless past but here he is, trying to grasp at the straws of it.
What does it mean, his mind keeps asking. Is it okay? Am I okay?
It isn't a new question. ]
I don't know if that's true. I just... I don't know.
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[ He knows that, because it happened to him, too. He was so unsure of himself, so scared that he was different, tried so hard to shape who he wanted to be, only to become someone else entirely. It's terrifying, but he can help Mako, he thinks. He can help him.
Carefully, he leans in to kiss Mako's cheek ]
Can you come to bed?
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I should... clean up. First.
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We can clean in the morning. Okay? You need some sleep, then we can, we can talk more.
[ He really just wants Mako to rest, to have some distance from his sauce project, before they have to tackle anything more ]
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