Sophie (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ladyhoneydarlinglove) wrote2013-04-18 10:19 pm
ladyhoneydarlinglove) wrote2013-04-18 10:19 pm
Entry tags:
{OC/Legend of Korra} how it is (isn't how it has to stay)
Fandom: Original/Legend of Korra
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~4300
Summary: In the aftermath of losing his bending, Jin discovers that he doesn't always need to be strong. Completely self-indulgent and unapologetic hurt/comfort.
Notes: This is a piece featuring two Legend of Korra OCs. Jin is mine, but Tuo belongs to DJ.
--
Everything around him is dark.
Jin can feel his body taking up space in the vast expanse of nothingness, but his eyes are blinded by the darkness, and when he taps his feet against the ground, no vibrations follow; he isn’t standing on earth. He stretches his arms out in front of him as he begins to move slowly forward, hands shaking as he tries to feel his way around. He’s not used to this, not used to being so helpless. It makes him tremble and gasp for air, heart beating wildly in his chest as Jin searches for anything that might tell him where he is, but to no avail.
He pauses for a moment to get his breathing under control, when an invisible hand grabs him from behind. Jin cries out in pain as it forces him to his knees and tilts his head back, and his heart stops as the mask crawls out of the darkness.
You will now be equalized.
Jin wakes up screaming.
--
“You look awful,” Meilin says when Jin joins she and Renshu for breakfast the next morning, a new daily ritual as both siblings try to be there for their brother in light of his recent trauma. Renshu has opted against returning to Ba Sing Se in order to help his shaken family, and he and Jin have made, if not full apologies for their rift, at least a truce. It feels better to have his brother close again than Jin would have expected. Perhaps Tuo is right when he says family is the most important thing one can have in this world.
“I didn’t sleep very well,” Jin says by way of explanation as he helps himself to tea, and his siblings exchange a worried glance.
“Nightmares again?” Meilin asks, and after a small hesitation, Jin nods. He’d tried to hide them at first, not wanting to worry his family even more, but Meilin has always had a knack for sniffing out her twin’s secrets. “Have they been getting worse?”
Jin shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. “I can’t really tell anymore. They all just kind of… blur together, I guess.”
He sips his tea, trying not to fidget under Meilin and Renshu’s concerned gazes. “Isn’t there anything you can do?” Renshu asks. “Sleeping aids? Meditation?”
“I’ve tried,” Jin sighs. “But nothing helps. The dreams are just… too powerful, I guess.” A shred of last night’s flashes through his mind, and Jin’s hands begin to shake. He sets down his teacup carefully to avoid a spill.
“You know, when you two were younger, you two used to sleep together whenever Jin had nightmares about Fei being sick, and that seemed to help,” Renshu suggests. “I know it might be a little awkward to do that now, but maybe something like it, with Fei, or…”
Renshu trails off as Jin shakes his head. “I don’t think so,” he says quietly, wrapping his hands around his teacup. The warmth makes him feel better, if only a little. “I mean, I’ve managed to take a few naps with Fei, but I haven’t been able to actually sleep. It’s different from when I was little, it’s…” Jin sighs. “With Fei I could always wake up and go find her to reassure myself she hadn’t died in her sleep like I’d dreamed. But now, I mean…” He shrugs, feeling angry and bitter and helpless. “My bending is gone, and nothing can bring it back. How am I supposed to help reassure myself if there’s nothing there to warrant reassurance?”
A heavy silence settles over the table for several long moments before Meilin speaks. “Well, if you think of anything we can do to help you,” she says, reaching over to touch her brother’s hand, “let us know, won’t you?”
“Of course,” Jin says with a not-quite-there smile.
--
Jin returns to his apartment after breakfast, makes himself a pot of tea and grabs a book, though he knows he won’t get any reading done. He’s too tired to concentrate, the characters blurring on the page after the first few lines, no matter how hard Jin tries to make himself focus. Jin wants so badly to just close his eyes and sleep, but he’s also terrified of what will haunt his dreams if he does. His feet tap out a restless beat on the ground in a failing effort to keep himself awake.
He’s so tired, he thinks. Maybe just a little nap…
But no, because Jin’s sure the nightmares will come if he does… He tries to focus on his book, shaking his head to try and clear it. He can’t sleep, not now. He has to stay awake, but he’s tired.
So tired…
A sudden chill sweeps through the room, numbing Jin all the way down to his bones. A violent shiver racks his frame as the wind breaks through his thin clothing with ease, and when he opens his eyes, a dark pavilion greets him, heavy and cold with sleet. Jin tries to move, but he finds that his hands are bound behind him, and his head is being forced back.
He sees the mask.
You will now be equalized.
Jin wakes to his doorbell ringing with a scream caught in his throat, and only with a great effort does he manage to swallow it back down. He stands on feeble legs and makes his way shakily over to the door, his hands trembling when he turns the knob. His mind is still numb with the images of his nightmare, and it takes him a second to register the man standing there. “Tuo,” he says belatedly. “What—What are you doing here?”
Tuo smiles at Jin even as he shifts nervously in the doorway, hands clutched around a bag that smells like pastries. “I wanted to see how you were doing,” Tuo says. “We haven’t seen much of each other lately and I wanted to make sure you were okay. Or well, as okay as you can be, I guess.”
“Oh.” Jin hesitates. He hasn’t seen much of Tuo because he doesn’t want Tuo to see him in this sad, helpless, pathetic state. It’s one thing to be weak in front of family, quite another to be weak in front of a boyfriend, especially when Jin feels as though he’s supposed to be the strong one in their relationship. But Tuo’s come all this way to see him and it would be unbelievably rude to say no now, so instead Jin steps back to let Tuo in. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asks.
“Um, tea is fine,” Tuo answers, toeing off his shoes. “Here, I stopped by that pastry shop you like and picked up your favorites. I thought they might, you know. Cheer you up a bit.” He gives Jin a hopeful smile, and despite his exhaustion, Jin can’t help but smile back.
They sit down in the living room; Jin makes a fresh pot of tea and Tuo unloads the bag of pastries, full of Jin’s favorites; almond biscuits, red bean paste buns, sesame balls, sweet rice dumplings. It warms Jin to think that Tuo remembered so many, and he finds himself suddenly quite hungry; he didn’t manage to eat more than a couple bites at breakfast.
“How have you been?” Tuo asks as Jin hands him a cup of tea.
“Not great,” Jin admits quietly as he picks up a dumpling. He wishes he could say otherwise, but lying to Tuo always makes Jin feel awful, like he’s kicked a badger-fox pup. “I haven’t been sleeping very well.”
“Why?”
“I have nightmares,” Jin answers; he grips his teacup tightly to keep his hands from shaking, and the hot ceramic burns against his skin. “They make it hard to get more than a couple hours of sleep at a time.” He grimaces as the words tumble out of his mouth; wasn’t he supposed to be hiding how bad his condition is from Tuo? To stop Tuo from knowing just how helpless and pathetic Jin feels right now? Jin grabs a sesame ball and takes a large bite to keep from saying more.
“Oh.” Tuo looks down at his plate, brow furrowed. “You can’t even nap during the day?” Jin shakes his head, and Tuo’s frown deepens. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice soft in comfort. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No,” Jin says with a sigh. “I don’t think so. I’ve tried a couple different things but so far, nothing has worked very well. I think I just need some time.” A lot of time, he doesn’t say.
“What have you tried?” Tuo asks, breaking off a piece of almond biscuit to nibble on.
“Sleeping aids, mostly,” Jin says. “And I went to a healer to have my chi realigned, but they couldn’t do much because, well…” He shrugs, trying to seem casual, but Jin doesn’t think Tuo misses the way he shudders.
“What about your family?” Tuo asks. “Maybe if you weren’t all alone here…”
“I’ve been to the estate quite a bit,” Jin says with a tiny smile; typical of Tuo to think family is the answer. “And I’ve been spending lots of time with everyone when they aren’t busy, but it doesn’t seem to help much at night. I’ve been able to catch some light sleep taking naps with Fei, but other than that, nothing.”
“Does sleeping with her help with the nightmares?” Tuo asks, and Jin nods. “Well, what about sleeping with someone else? Couldn’t that help too?”
“I guess, although I haven’t tried it with anyone else,” Jin says. “It just seems a little strange for a grown man to be sleeping with his equally grown twin sister. Or parents.”
Tuo chuckles. “Yeah, I guess that’s true,” he says. “But what about a friend? I mean, Rukki and Shan and I take naps together all the time and that’s not strange.”
You and your friends are also much more happy and open and carefree than I am, Jin thinks, not without a touch of resigned jealousy. “Tseng is too busy trying to help piece the city back together,” he says instead. “And there isn’t anyone else I’d be willing to ask.”
Jin takes a bite of a sesame ball, the sweet lotus seed paste a small comfort. He lifts his teacup to wash it down when Tuo asks, “What about me?”
There’s a long pause as Jin processes this proposal, and he sets his teacup back down with great care. “What about you?” Jin asks, voice cautious.
“Could you take a nap with me, maybe?” Tuo asks. “I mean we’ve been together for a while now, right? And we’re pretty comfortable with each other, so I don’t think it would be, you know, weird for us to nap together. Would it?”
Jin closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath and counts to ten before opening them.
“No,” Jin says. “I don’t think it would be weird. But that’s not what concerns me, and I think you know that.” He gives Tuo a very meaningful look. It makes Tuo’s brow furrow for a second before he lifts his chin in defiance.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Jin,” he says. “I know I’m not as experienced in relationships as you are, but I can make my own decisions too. You don’t always have to do everything for me.”
“I’m not trying to do anything for you,” Jin says. “I’m trying—“
“You’re trying to protect me, I know,” Tuo finishes, his irritation clear in his expression and his voice. “From what? I mean maybe if we’d just been out on a date or you’d had a few drinks it wouldn’t be a great idea, but right now? What could you possibly do to me? I mean no offense, but you look like you’re about to pass out any second. I’m pretty sure that if you did try any funny business—which I don’t think you’d do anyway—one good punch could knock you out cold.“
Jin has to concede that this is probably true, but he’s still not convinced. “I don’t know,” he says. “It just… It feels weird.”
“Why?” Tuo asks. “Do you really think that you would try to do anything to me?”
“No, of course not,” Jin answers, his hands clenching. He would never. Jin would rather lose his bending all over again than try to force Tuo into anything he’d be uncomfortable with doing. “But…” Jin looks away, not wanting to think about what might happen if he isn’t careful. About what happened to him when he wasn’t careful. He tries to draw in a calming breath and instead it makes his lungs rattle painfully.
Tuo’s hand settles over his, and Jin flinches, trying to pull away, but Tuo won’t let him. “Look, I know you don’t trust yourself in these kinds of situations because of what happened to you,” Tuo says, voice equal parts exasperated, irritated and gentle. “But you’re being silly. I trust you, and I want to do this for you, which means you can’t be forcing me to do anything, right? So that makes your whole argument about how you might make me do something against my will invalid.”
“But—“
“No buts,” Tuo cuts him off. “We are going to take a nap together and that is final, because I’m pretty sure that if you don’t get some sleep soon you are going to die, and that would be terrible because then we’d all have to stand outside in the freezing rain at your funeral and everyone you love would have head colds for a month. Do you really want to give everyone you love head colds, Jin? Do you?”
Jin blinks slowly. “… What?”
“Exactly,” Tuo says. “Now finish your pastry so we can take this nap.”
Jin opens his mouth to argue, head still buzzing with a hundred thoughts and protests, but after a few seconds of consideration, he closes it again. Because Tuo has clearly made up his mind about this matter, and Tuo is as stubborn as any good earthbender should be. Jin is tired enough; he doesn’t have the energy to fight Tuo on this, as much as he would like to do so.
“Fine,” he sighs in defeat. “But just a nap. No more.”
--
It feels very strange to have Tuo beside Jin in his bed, despite the fact that the context couldn’t be more innocent. Jin has a thin blanket draped over him at Tuo’s insistence, but Tuo is lying above the covers, and they’re both still dressed but for their shoes. Jin might as well be napping alone; the only real difference is the loose hold Tuo has around one of Jin’s hands.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jin asks for the third time since they’ve lain down, and Tuo sighs in fond exasperation.
“Jin, stop asking me that,” he says, trying to hide a smile. “I told you, I’m fine. Now just try and get some sleep, okay?”
It’s not hard to obey. Jin’s eyes are already slipping shut, and he feels himself drifting… drifting…
Jin opens his eyes to find himself in a field, large and open and lush with green grass. His feet are bare against the ground and he curls his toes in the dirt, smiling at the cool feel of it against his skin. Jin steps forward with his eyes closed, focusing on the vibrations he feels with each step.
He stops, and falls back into the grass with a sigh. The ground shifts beneath him from the force of his impact, and then begins to tremble, then shake, then roll. Jin tries to sit up but only ends up stumbling. He attempts to solidify a spot so he can wait out the earthquake, but when Jin tries to bend, he can’t.
The ground begins to move in waves around him, knocking Jin down and crashing over him. Jin is drowning under an onslaught of dirt and he tries to push it aside, but it isn’t working, it isn’t working, he can’t bend—
His head snaps back and Jin sees the mask.
You will now be equalized.
Jin wakes with a scream caught in his throat and snaps upright, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath, but it’s so hard. He inhales but nothing comes into his lungs, so he tries again, and again, but nothing is there, there’s no air, he can’t breathe, he can’t—
A strong arm wraps around Jin’s shoulders and a hand is placed on his chest. “Jin!” he hears Tuo say. “Jin, it’s okay, it was only a dream! Here, just—just breathe with me, come on. In… out… in… out… in… out…“
It takes a few tries, but Jin catches on to Tuo’s rhythm and after a minute or so, his breathing, though still scared and heavy, has at least evened out. Jin clenches his eyes shut in shame, forcing back tears. He shouldn’t need help remembering to breathe, he thinks. He’s known how to do that since he first learned how to bend, and yet somehow, in just a few weeks, he’s already forgotten it. His shoulders shake, and Jin hunches away from Tuo. He wishes that Tuo weren’t even here, that he didn’t have to see Jin like this, helpless and weak and unable to do anything for himself. “Tuo,” Jin says, hating the way his voice cracks on the name, “I think you should—“
“I’m not leaving,” Tuo says before Jin can finish. The hand on Jin’s chest moves so Tuo’s arm can wrap around his torso, and Jin feels the hard point of Tuo’s chin on his shoulder.
“Tuo, please,” Jin begs. “I can’t—I don’t want you—“
He can’t finish. The words catch in his throat as Jin struggles to breathe again, so instead he grabs the arm around his chest and tries to drag it away. But Jin is weak from exhaustion, and Tuo refuses to budge.
“Tuo,” Jin tries again, and feels Tuo shake his head in response.
“Breathe,” Tuo commands, and Jin is too tired not to obey.
They stay wrapped around each other for several minutes as Jin attempts to calm himself. It helps to have Tuo there, to use the steady rise and fall of the other man’s chest as his guide; but it also hurts, because Jin wants very much to just let himself fall apart, but he won’t. Not in front of Tuo. Jin is supposed to be the strong one.
“I wish you would go,” Jin mumbles.
“Why?” Tuo asks, his grip around Jin tightening.
“I don’t… I don’t want you to see me like this,” Jin answers, hands clenching in his lap. It hurts to even say the words. “I’m… I’m supposed to be the strong one here, and now look at me.” A bitter laugh bubbles up from his chest. “I’m pathetic,” he whispers, more to himself than Tuo.
“You’re not,” Tuo says immediately. “You’re not pathetic at all, Jin, why would you think that?”
Jin doesn’t answer. He doesn’t trust himself to speak anymore. He gives another feeble attempt at moving Tuo’s arm, but all he succeeds in doing is making the other man hold him more tightly, and a heavy silence falls between them.
“Jin,” Tuo says after a few agonizing minutes. “I know… I know you think you need to stay strong, but… You’ve already done more than enough for me as it is. And now you’re trying to cope with all of this alone, and… You know you don’t always have to be the strong one, don’t you?” A hand touches his cheek, and Jin allows his head to be turned so that he’s looking at Tuo. Jin is so close to him that their noses bump.
“Why can’t you let me help you for once?” Tuo asks, stroking his thumb over Jin’s cheek. “Can’t you let me be the strong one?”
Can he, Jin thinks? It seems so strange to him, that Tuo should be the one helping Jin. But would it be so bad to let go, just this once?
Jin lifts shaky arms to wrap around Tuo, and he moves his head to lie against Tuo’s shoulder. A single tear rolls down his cheek. “I’m so tired,” Jin mumbles, his grip around Tuo tightening. “I’m… I’m tired, and… ” He swallows around a heavy lump in his throat, and when Jin continues to speak, his voice shakes and cracks. “And I’m scared, and I don’t know what to do and—“
Jin breaks off with a rattled sob and buries his face in Tuo’s chest. He feels disgusted with himself, but Tuo only holds Jin tighter, strokes Jin’s hair and presses his lips to Jin’s temple as Jin cries harder than he’s ever cried before in his life.
“It’s okay,” Jin hears Tuo murmur above his muffled sobs. “It’s okay, Jin, I’m here. Just… Just let it go.”
And Jin does.
--
Jin isn’t sure at what point he falls asleep, only that he wakes from another nightmare to a darkened room. It hurts to breathe at first, but Tuo is still there, with his strong hold and soothing words and the occasional soft kiss, and before Jin knows what’s happening, he’s asleep again.
He wakes up from nightmares a few more times, and always Tuo is there to lull him back to sleep. The stretches between the dreams start to grow longer and longer, and Jin begins to wonder if he might actually get some real sleep…
He thinks he sees Meilin… Or maybe Renshu… Or Fei…
The warm light of a setting sun is filtering into the room when Jin truly wakes, some time later. How long, he isn’t sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if days had passed. It certainly feels that way as he sits up and stretches, his arms aching in the strange way limbs do after a long rest.
Jin gets out of bed with careful movements, noticing as he stands that someone changed him into his favorite grey silk pajamas. The fabric rustles against his skin as Jin makes his way to the kitchen, body still stiff after being still for so long. A fragrant aroma pervades the air the closer he comes; ginger, garlic, chicken broth, scallion. He has no idea what’s being made, but considering no one in Jin’s family can cook, he guesses that Tuo must still be here.
Indeed, Tuo is standing over Jin’s rarely used stove when Jin finally enters the kitchen, dutifully stirring something in a large pot. Jin coughs to announce his presence as he takes a seat at the counter, making Tuo jump and spin around. “Hey!” he says. “You’re awake!”
Jin yawns. “So I am,” he says. “How long was I out?”
“About three days, give or take a few hours,” Tuo answers.
“Three days?” Jin blinks. “You weren’t here that entire time I hope.”
Tuo flushes and shifts nervously, and Jin sighs. “Tuo,” he says, as exasperated and fond as Tuo was with him earlier.
“Well, you slept better when I was around,” Tuo says. “And I did leave a few times to run errands and get a few things from home. Speaking of which, how is it that you live in this ridiculously nice apartment with all this fancy stuff and yet you don’t own a single cooking pot?”
“I never cook,” Jin answers, ducking his head so that Tuo won’t see the flush he can feel in his cheeks. Did Tuo really stay with him for so long? Jin isn’t sure what to think of that. “Did you at least get some rest?” he asks instead.
“Yeah. Your siblings and parents came by a few times to watch you when I left, and I spent most of my nights sleeping in your bed.” Tuo grabs a bowl and begins ladling whatever is in the cooking pot into it. “You don’t remember? You woke up a few times from the nightmares.”
Jin frowns. Now that he thinks about it, he does remember brief snatches between the timelessness of sleep; Tuo holding him, Tuo murmuring reassurances to him until Jin could breathe again, Tuo soothing him back to sleep. The flush on Jin’s cheeks grows hotter, and he doesn’t look at Tuo when he sets the bowl down in front of Jin.
“Are you okay?” Tuo asks, touching his shoulder.
“… Yeah,” Jin says after a moment. “Just…” He sighs. “I guess I’m not used to having to rely on other people for help. I’ve always done everything by myself before.”
Tuo squeezes his shoulder. “I know,” he says quietly. “But that’s what family and friends are for, you know. To help you when you need it.” Tuo slides his arm around Jin’s shoulder and presses a soft kiss against Jin’s temple. It feels strange, to receive kisses instead of giving them, but Jin finds that he doesn’t mind. Not at all.
“Guess I’m lucky that I have you here to beat some sense into my head, then,” Jin teases, and Tuo laughs.
“You bet,” he says. “And now you’re feeling better, right?”
“Much better,” Jin confirms. Not great, he thinks, but Jin supposes it will be a long time before he’ll begin to feel even somewhat normal again. Jin sees a long, difficult road ahead of him, shrouded in uncertainty, and it scares him.
But not as much as it did, he thinks as he returns Tuo’s embrace, pressing their foreheads together with a tiny smile. “Thank you,” he says quietly.
“Of course,” Tuo answers, and, with a sudden shy smile and rapid flushing of his cheeks, gives Jin a wonderfully sweet kiss.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~4300
Summary: In the aftermath of losing his bending, Jin discovers that he doesn't always need to be strong. Completely self-indulgent and unapologetic hurt/comfort.
Notes: This is a piece featuring two Legend of Korra OCs. Jin is mine, but Tuo belongs to DJ.
--
Everything around him is dark.
Jin can feel his body taking up space in the vast expanse of nothingness, but his eyes are blinded by the darkness, and when he taps his feet against the ground, no vibrations follow; he isn’t standing on earth. He stretches his arms out in front of him as he begins to move slowly forward, hands shaking as he tries to feel his way around. He’s not used to this, not used to being so helpless. It makes him tremble and gasp for air, heart beating wildly in his chest as Jin searches for anything that might tell him where he is, but to no avail.
He pauses for a moment to get his breathing under control, when an invisible hand grabs him from behind. Jin cries out in pain as it forces him to his knees and tilts his head back, and his heart stops as the mask crawls out of the darkness.
You will now be equalized.
Jin wakes up screaming.
--
“You look awful,” Meilin says when Jin joins she and Renshu for breakfast the next morning, a new daily ritual as both siblings try to be there for their brother in light of his recent trauma. Renshu has opted against returning to Ba Sing Se in order to help his shaken family, and he and Jin have made, if not full apologies for their rift, at least a truce. It feels better to have his brother close again than Jin would have expected. Perhaps Tuo is right when he says family is the most important thing one can have in this world.
“I didn’t sleep very well,” Jin says by way of explanation as he helps himself to tea, and his siblings exchange a worried glance.
“Nightmares again?” Meilin asks, and after a small hesitation, Jin nods. He’d tried to hide them at first, not wanting to worry his family even more, but Meilin has always had a knack for sniffing out her twin’s secrets. “Have they been getting worse?”
Jin shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. “I can’t really tell anymore. They all just kind of… blur together, I guess.”
He sips his tea, trying not to fidget under Meilin and Renshu’s concerned gazes. “Isn’t there anything you can do?” Renshu asks. “Sleeping aids? Meditation?”
“I’ve tried,” Jin sighs. “But nothing helps. The dreams are just… too powerful, I guess.” A shred of last night’s flashes through his mind, and Jin’s hands begin to shake. He sets down his teacup carefully to avoid a spill.
“You know, when you two were younger, you two used to sleep together whenever Jin had nightmares about Fei being sick, and that seemed to help,” Renshu suggests. “I know it might be a little awkward to do that now, but maybe something like it, with Fei, or…”
Renshu trails off as Jin shakes his head. “I don’t think so,” he says quietly, wrapping his hands around his teacup. The warmth makes him feel better, if only a little. “I mean, I’ve managed to take a few naps with Fei, but I haven’t been able to actually sleep. It’s different from when I was little, it’s…” Jin sighs. “With Fei I could always wake up and go find her to reassure myself she hadn’t died in her sleep like I’d dreamed. But now, I mean…” He shrugs, feeling angry and bitter and helpless. “My bending is gone, and nothing can bring it back. How am I supposed to help reassure myself if there’s nothing there to warrant reassurance?”
A heavy silence settles over the table for several long moments before Meilin speaks. “Well, if you think of anything we can do to help you,” she says, reaching over to touch her brother’s hand, “let us know, won’t you?”
“Of course,” Jin says with a not-quite-there smile.
--
Jin returns to his apartment after breakfast, makes himself a pot of tea and grabs a book, though he knows he won’t get any reading done. He’s too tired to concentrate, the characters blurring on the page after the first few lines, no matter how hard Jin tries to make himself focus. Jin wants so badly to just close his eyes and sleep, but he’s also terrified of what will haunt his dreams if he does. His feet tap out a restless beat on the ground in a failing effort to keep himself awake.
He’s so tired, he thinks. Maybe just a little nap…
But no, because Jin’s sure the nightmares will come if he does… He tries to focus on his book, shaking his head to try and clear it. He can’t sleep, not now. He has to stay awake, but he’s tired.
So tired…
A sudden chill sweeps through the room, numbing Jin all the way down to his bones. A violent shiver racks his frame as the wind breaks through his thin clothing with ease, and when he opens his eyes, a dark pavilion greets him, heavy and cold with sleet. Jin tries to move, but he finds that his hands are bound behind him, and his head is being forced back.
He sees the mask.
You will now be equalized.
Jin wakes to his doorbell ringing with a scream caught in his throat, and only with a great effort does he manage to swallow it back down. He stands on feeble legs and makes his way shakily over to the door, his hands trembling when he turns the knob. His mind is still numb with the images of his nightmare, and it takes him a second to register the man standing there. “Tuo,” he says belatedly. “What—What are you doing here?”
Tuo smiles at Jin even as he shifts nervously in the doorway, hands clutched around a bag that smells like pastries. “I wanted to see how you were doing,” Tuo says. “We haven’t seen much of each other lately and I wanted to make sure you were okay. Or well, as okay as you can be, I guess.”
“Oh.” Jin hesitates. He hasn’t seen much of Tuo because he doesn’t want Tuo to see him in this sad, helpless, pathetic state. It’s one thing to be weak in front of family, quite another to be weak in front of a boyfriend, especially when Jin feels as though he’s supposed to be the strong one in their relationship. But Tuo’s come all this way to see him and it would be unbelievably rude to say no now, so instead Jin steps back to let Tuo in. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asks.
“Um, tea is fine,” Tuo answers, toeing off his shoes. “Here, I stopped by that pastry shop you like and picked up your favorites. I thought they might, you know. Cheer you up a bit.” He gives Jin a hopeful smile, and despite his exhaustion, Jin can’t help but smile back.
They sit down in the living room; Jin makes a fresh pot of tea and Tuo unloads the bag of pastries, full of Jin’s favorites; almond biscuits, red bean paste buns, sesame balls, sweet rice dumplings. It warms Jin to think that Tuo remembered so many, and he finds himself suddenly quite hungry; he didn’t manage to eat more than a couple bites at breakfast.
“How have you been?” Tuo asks as Jin hands him a cup of tea.
“Not great,” Jin admits quietly as he picks up a dumpling. He wishes he could say otherwise, but lying to Tuo always makes Jin feel awful, like he’s kicked a badger-fox pup. “I haven’t been sleeping very well.”
“Why?”
“I have nightmares,” Jin answers; he grips his teacup tightly to keep his hands from shaking, and the hot ceramic burns against his skin. “They make it hard to get more than a couple hours of sleep at a time.” He grimaces as the words tumble out of his mouth; wasn’t he supposed to be hiding how bad his condition is from Tuo? To stop Tuo from knowing just how helpless and pathetic Jin feels right now? Jin grabs a sesame ball and takes a large bite to keep from saying more.
“Oh.” Tuo looks down at his plate, brow furrowed. “You can’t even nap during the day?” Jin shakes his head, and Tuo’s frown deepens. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice soft in comfort. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No,” Jin says with a sigh. “I don’t think so. I’ve tried a couple different things but so far, nothing has worked very well. I think I just need some time.” A lot of time, he doesn’t say.
“What have you tried?” Tuo asks, breaking off a piece of almond biscuit to nibble on.
“Sleeping aids, mostly,” Jin says. “And I went to a healer to have my chi realigned, but they couldn’t do much because, well…” He shrugs, trying to seem casual, but Jin doesn’t think Tuo misses the way he shudders.
“What about your family?” Tuo asks. “Maybe if you weren’t all alone here…”
“I’ve been to the estate quite a bit,” Jin says with a tiny smile; typical of Tuo to think family is the answer. “And I’ve been spending lots of time with everyone when they aren’t busy, but it doesn’t seem to help much at night. I’ve been able to catch some light sleep taking naps with Fei, but other than that, nothing.”
“Does sleeping with her help with the nightmares?” Tuo asks, and Jin nods. “Well, what about sleeping with someone else? Couldn’t that help too?”
“I guess, although I haven’t tried it with anyone else,” Jin says. “It just seems a little strange for a grown man to be sleeping with his equally grown twin sister. Or parents.”
Tuo chuckles. “Yeah, I guess that’s true,” he says. “But what about a friend? I mean, Rukki and Shan and I take naps together all the time and that’s not strange.”
You and your friends are also much more happy and open and carefree than I am, Jin thinks, not without a touch of resigned jealousy. “Tseng is too busy trying to help piece the city back together,” he says instead. “And there isn’t anyone else I’d be willing to ask.”
Jin takes a bite of a sesame ball, the sweet lotus seed paste a small comfort. He lifts his teacup to wash it down when Tuo asks, “What about me?”
There’s a long pause as Jin processes this proposal, and he sets his teacup back down with great care. “What about you?” Jin asks, voice cautious.
“Could you take a nap with me, maybe?” Tuo asks. “I mean we’ve been together for a while now, right? And we’re pretty comfortable with each other, so I don’t think it would be, you know, weird for us to nap together. Would it?”
Jin closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath and counts to ten before opening them.
“No,” Jin says. “I don’t think it would be weird. But that’s not what concerns me, and I think you know that.” He gives Tuo a very meaningful look. It makes Tuo’s brow furrow for a second before he lifts his chin in defiance.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Jin,” he says. “I know I’m not as experienced in relationships as you are, but I can make my own decisions too. You don’t always have to do everything for me.”
“I’m not trying to do anything for you,” Jin says. “I’m trying—“
“You’re trying to protect me, I know,” Tuo finishes, his irritation clear in his expression and his voice. “From what? I mean maybe if we’d just been out on a date or you’d had a few drinks it wouldn’t be a great idea, but right now? What could you possibly do to me? I mean no offense, but you look like you’re about to pass out any second. I’m pretty sure that if you did try any funny business—which I don’t think you’d do anyway—one good punch could knock you out cold.“
Jin has to concede that this is probably true, but he’s still not convinced. “I don’t know,” he says. “It just… It feels weird.”
“Why?” Tuo asks. “Do you really think that you would try to do anything to me?”
“No, of course not,” Jin answers, his hands clenching. He would never. Jin would rather lose his bending all over again than try to force Tuo into anything he’d be uncomfortable with doing. “But…” Jin looks away, not wanting to think about what might happen if he isn’t careful. About what happened to him when he wasn’t careful. He tries to draw in a calming breath and instead it makes his lungs rattle painfully.
Tuo’s hand settles over his, and Jin flinches, trying to pull away, but Tuo won’t let him. “Look, I know you don’t trust yourself in these kinds of situations because of what happened to you,” Tuo says, voice equal parts exasperated, irritated and gentle. “But you’re being silly. I trust you, and I want to do this for you, which means you can’t be forcing me to do anything, right? So that makes your whole argument about how you might make me do something against my will invalid.”
“But—“
“No buts,” Tuo cuts him off. “We are going to take a nap together and that is final, because I’m pretty sure that if you don’t get some sleep soon you are going to die, and that would be terrible because then we’d all have to stand outside in the freezing rain at your funeral and everyone you love would have head colds for a month. Do you really want to give everyone you love head colds, Jin? Do you?”
Jin blinks slowly. “… What?”
“Exactly,” Tuo says. “Now finish your pastry so we can take this nap.”
Jin opens his mouth to argue, head still buzzing with a hundred thoughts and protests, but after a few seconds of consideration, he closes it again. Because Tuo has clearly made up his mind about this matter, and Tuo is as stubborn as any good earthbender should be. Jin is tired enough; he doesn’t have the energy to fight Tuo on this, as much as he would like to do so.
“Fine,” he sighs in defeat. “But just a nap. No more.”
--
It feels very strange to have Tuo beside Jin in his bed, despite the fact that the context couldn’t be more innocent. Jin has a thin blanket draped over him at Tuo’s insistence, but Tuo is lying above the covers, and they’re both still dressed but for their shoes. Jin might as well be napping alone; the only real difference is the loose hold Tuo has around one of Jin’s hands.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jin asks for the third time since they’ve lain down, and Tuo sighs in fond exasperation.
“Jin, stop asking me that,” he says, trying to hide a smile. “I told you, I’m fine. Now just try and get some sleep, okay?”
It’s not hard to obey. Jin’s eyes are already slipping shut, and he feels himself drifting… drifting…
Jin opens his eyes to find himself in a field, large and open and lush with green grass. His feet are bare against the ground and he curls his toes in the dirt, smiling at the cool feel of it against his skin. Jin steps forward with his eyes closed, focusing on the vibrations he feels with each step.
He stops, and falls back into the grass with a sigh. The ground shifts beneath him from the force of his impact, and then begins to tremble, then shake, then roll. Jin tries to sit up but only ends up stumbling. He attempts to solidify a spot so he can wait out the earthquake, but when Jin tries to bend, he can’t.
The ground begins to move in waves around him, knocking Jin down and crashing over him. Jin is drowning under an onslaught of dirt and he tries to push it aside, but it isn’t working, it isn’t working, he can’t bend—
His head snaps back and Jin sees the mask.
You will now be equalized.
Jin wakes with a scream caught in his throat and snaps upright, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath, but it’s so hard. He inhales but nothing comes into his lungs, so he tries again, and again, but nothing is there, there’s no air, he can’t breathe, he can’t—
A strong arm wraps around Jin’s shoulders and a hand is placed on his chest. “Jin!” he hears Tuo say. “Jin, it’s okay, it was only a dream! Here, just—just breathe with me, come on. In… out… in… out… in… out…“
It takes a few tries, but Jin catches on to Tuo’s rhythm and after a minute or so, his breathing, though still scared and heavy, has at least evened out. Jin clenches his eyes shut in shame, forcing back tears. He shouldn’t need help remembering to breathe, he thinks. He’s known how to do that since he first learned how to bend, and yet somehow, in just a few weeks, he’s already forgotten it. His shoulders shake, and Jin hunches away from Tuo. He wishes that Tuo weren’t even here, that he didn’t have to see Jin like this, helpless and weak and unable to do anything for himself. “Tuo,” Jin says, hating the way his voice cracks on the name, “I think you should—“
“I’m not leaving,” Tuo says before Jin can finish. The hand on Jin’s chest moves so Tuo’s arm can wrap around his torso, and Jin feels the hard point of Tuo’s chin on his shoulder.
“Tuo, please,” Jin begs. “I can’t—I don’t want you—“
He can’t finish. The words catch in his throat as Jin struggles to breathe again, so instead he grabs the arm around his chest and tries to drag it away. But Jin is weak from exhaustion, and Tuo refuses to budge.
“Tuo,” Jin tries again, and feels Tuo shake his head in response.
“Breathe,” Tuo commands, and Jin is too tired not to obey.
They stay wrapped around each other for several minutes as Jin attempts to calm himself. It helps to have Tuo there, to use the steady rise and fall of the other man’s chest as his guide; but it also hurts, because Jin wants very much to just let himself fall apart, but he won’t. Not in front of Tuo. Jin is supposed to be the strong one.
“I wish you would go,” Jin mumbles.
“Why?” Tuo asks, his grip around Jin tightening.
“I don’t… I don’t want you to see me like this,” Jin answers, hands clenching in his lap. It hurts to even say the words. “I’m… I’m supposed to be the strong one here, and now look at me.” A bitter laugh bubbles up from his chest. “I’m pathetic,” he whispers, more to himself than Tuo.
“You’re not,” Tuo says immediately. “You’re not pathetic at all, Jin, why would you think that?”
Jin doesn’t answer. He doesn’t trust himself to speak anymore. He gives another feeble attempt at moving Tuo’s arm, but all he succeeds in doing is making the other man hold him more tightly, and a heavy silence falls between them.
“Jin,” Tuo says after a few agonizing minutes. “I know… I know you think you need to stay strong, but… You’ve already done more than enough for me as it is. And now you’re trying to cope with all of this alone, and… You know you don’t always have to be the strong one, don’t you?” A hand touches his cheek, and Jin allows his head to be turned so that he’s looking at Tuo. Jin is so close to him that their noses bump.
“Why can’t you let me help you for once?” Tuo asks, stroking his thumb over Jin’s cheek. “Can’t you let me be the strong one?”
Can he, Jin thinks? It seems so strange to him, that Tuo should be the one helping Jin. But would it be so bad to let go, just this once?
Jin lifts shaky arms to wrap around Tuo, and he moves his head to lie against Tuo’s shoulder. A single tear rolls down his cheek. “I’m so tired,” Jin mumbles, his grip around Tuo tightening. “I’m… I’m tired, and… ” He swallows around a heavy lump in his throat, and when Jin continues to speak, his voice shakes and cracks. “And I’m scared, and I don’t know what to do and—“
Jin breaks off with a rattled sob and buries his face in Tuo’s chest. He feels disgusted with himself, but Tuo only holds Jin tighter, strokes Jin’s hair and presses his lips to Jin’s temple as Jin cries harder than he’s ever cried before in his life.
“It’s okay,” Jin hears Tuo murmur above his muffled sobs. “It’s okay, Jin, I’m here. Just… Just let it go.”
And Jin does.
--
Jin isn’t sure at what point he falls asleep, only that he wakes from another nightmare to a darkened room. It hurts to breathe at first, but Tuo is still there, with his strong hold and soothing words and the occasional soft kiss, and before Jin knows what’s happening, he’s asleep again.
He wakes up from nightmares a few more times, and always Tuo is there to lull him back to sleep. The stretches between the dreams start to grow longer and longer, and Jin begins to wonder if he might actually get some real sleep…
He thinks he sees Meilin… Or maybe Renshu… Or Fei…
The warm light of a setting sun is filtering into the room when Jin truly wakes, some time later. How long, he isn’t sure, but he wouldn’t be surprised if days had passed. It certainly feels that way as he sits up and stretches, his arms aching in the strange way limbs do after a long rest.
Jin gets out of bed with careful movements, noticing as he stands that someone changed him into his favorite grey silk pajamas. The fabric rustles against his skin as Jin makes his way to the kitchen, body still stiff after being still for so long. A fragrant aroma pervades the air the closer he comes; ginger, garlic, chicken broth, scallion. He has no idea what’s being made, but considering no one in Jin’s family can cook, he guesses that Tuo must still be here.
Indeed, Tuo is standing over Jin’s rarely used stove when Jin finally enters the kitchen, dutifully stirring something in a large pot. Jin coughs to announce his presence as he takes a seat at the counter, making Tuo jump and spin around. “Hey!” he says. “You’re awake!”
Jin yawns. “So I am,” he says. “How long was I out?”
“About three days, give or take a few hours,” Tuo answers.
“Three days?” Jin blinks. “You weren’t here that entire time I hope.”
Tuo flushes and shifts nervously, and Jin sighs. “Tuo,” he says, as exasperated and fond as Tuo was with him earlier.
“Well, you slept better when I was around,” Tuo says. “And I did leave a few times to run errands and get a few things from home. Speaking of which, how is it that you live in this ridiculously nice apartment with all this fancy stuff and yet you don’t own a single cooking pot?”
“I never cook,” Jin answers, ducking his head so that Tuo won’t see the flush he can feel in his cheeks. Did Tuo really stay with him for so long? Jin isn’t sure what to think of that. “Did you at least get some rest?” he asks instead.
“Yeah. Your siblings and parents came by a few times to watch you when I left, and I spent most of my nights sleeping in your bed.” Tuo grabs a bowl and begins ladling whatever is in the cooking pot into it. “You don’t remember? You woke up a few times from the nightmares.”
Jin frowns. Now that he thinks about it, he does remember brief snatches between the timelessness of sleep; Tuo holding him, Tuo murmuring reassurances to him until Jin could breathe again, Tuo soothing him back to sleep. The flush on Jin’s cheeks grows hotter, and he doesn’t look at Tuo when he sets the bowl down in front of Jin.
“Are you okay?” Tuo asks, touching his shoulder.
“… Yeah,” Jin says after a moment. “Just…” He sighs. “I guess I’m not used to having to rely on other people for help. I’ve always done everything by myself before.”
Tuo squeezes his shoulder. “I know,” he says quietly. “But that’s what family and friends are for, you know. To help you when you need it.” Tuo slides his arm around Jin’s shoulder and presses a soft kiss against Jin’s temple. It feels strange, to receive kisses instead of giving them, but Jin finds that he doesn’t mind. Not at all.
“Guess I’m lucky that I have you here to beat some sense into my head, then,” Jin teases, and Tuo laughs.
“You bet,” he says. “And now you’re feeling better, right?”
“Much better,” Jin confirms. Not great, he thinks, but Jin supposes it will be a long time before he’ll begin to feel even somewhat normal again. Jin sees a long, difficult road ahead of him, shrouded in uncertainty, and it scares him.
But not as much as it did, he thinks as he returns Tuo’s embrace, pressing their foreheads together with a tiny smile. “Thank you,” he says quietly.
“Of course,” Tuo answers, and, with a sudden shy smile and rapid flushing of his cheeks, gives Jin a wonderfully sweet kiss.