Asami wants to know everything about Korra's condition. She may regret it.

Chapter Text

It was Asami’s own fault for asking.

After a week, she'd resolved that she wanted to do more than just make conversation with the air. She needed to know how bad things were for Korra. How bad they were going to be as she struggled to heal. Despite how much time she’d managed to spend with the Avatar, Asami was mostly in the dark about her treatments. She'd sit with Korra and bring her meals, but for the most part, Asami was as much use as a piece of talking furniture. She was doing everything she could, but none of it seemed to help.

Which is why she had asked Kya to sit down and walk her through what the healers had determined so far. They sat in Kya's room, a massive parchment spread out between them on the bed. On it was a hand-drawn outline of a female form. Several pages of translucent paper were layered on top of the outline, each providing a different level of detail: ink lines traced musculature, organs, skeletal structure. It was the blueprint from which Kya was tracking Korra's recovery.

"The superficial damage is almost gone." Kya said. "Open wounds, cuts, and bruises were all closed in the first few days but there's a little scarring still. From the moment we got back, our focus was on the internal injuries she'd sustained. We had managed some in-the-field triage, to stop the internal bleeding, but she'd suffered a lot of trauma beyond that." Kya pointed out red and brown pen marks all over the pages where she and other healers had noted their observations and treatments. "That would be the skull fracture, five broken and one cracked rib. She had a dislocated hip and a ruptured spinal disc. Her right leg had been broken in two places, and her left forearm and ankle were each fractured."

Kya walked Asami through the details of Korra’s case with a clinical tone. The tragedy of what the Avatar had suffered was enough to overwhelm any of those close to her. But Asami had asked for Kya’s expertise as a healer, and they focused on the technical details. Kya was treating the drawing like a schematic, something familiar that Asami could latch onto instead of the constant heaviness in her chest that made it hard for her to breathe. She followed Kya's hand as it found each of the marked injury regions.

"These ones in red were the most life-threatening," Kya continued. "The bones have mended, for the most part. By now, Korra should have been able to get around if she took it easy."

Asami tried to follow Kya’s example and disassociate the sketches laid out in front of her from the reality of the young Avatar, trapped each day between a bed and a wheelchair. She knew that the moment she fell asleep tonight, she’d see Korra in that canyon again: draped in her father's arms, tears of pain and shock streaming down her face as she faded in and out of consciousness. The image tore at the wall that Asami had built up in her mind. The wall that kept her from buckling under the fear that Korra was, for all intents and purposes, gone.

"But she still can't stand on her own," Asami said quietly. "What's wrong?"

Kya pulled back a couple of the thin pages back to reveal a spiderweb of lines criss-crossing the form, all radiating from the spine. "It's the nerve damage that we're concerned with now. The poison is out of her system, as far as we can tell. But it had plenty of time and plenty of adrenaline to get around quickly. It got the worst of its punches in before Su was able to extract it. That sort of healing is delicate work, and on top of that, it'll likely be followed by a tremendous amount of physical therapy."

Asami caught herself chewing on a thumbnail and rubbed at her face instead. This was a lot to take in. "Is this everything? Everything you told Tonraq and Senna?"

Kya nodded. "It doesn't help anyone to hide the extent of her injuries from them. Her parents need to know what they're in for."

Asami’s mouth was a thin line. The last week, Korra had needed so much help. Asami had tried to stay out of the way, to not crowd Korra and her parents, but she had seen what their life would be for the foreseeable future. Yesterday Senna had to help Korra bathe because she didn’t have full mobility. She’d watched Tonraq lift Korra into his arms and carry her to her bed. Korra had kept her eyes down, her face red and flushed. Asami could see it in her eyes; she felt humiliated every moment of every day.

"I want to believe that Korra will fight her way through this,” Kya said, “But there is still a chance that she could be bound to that chair for some time. That's going to be a strain on her and everyone who's in it for the long haul."

"I am," Asami nodded softly.

Kya studied the girl’s eyes. "She'll be dependent on other people to get around, bathe herself, dress herself. That’s expecting a lot from someone as independant as Korra."

“We can handle whatever she needs till she’s recovered,” Asami said.

The older woman took a moment to respond. Her shoulders slumped as her detached, professional tone faltered. "I'm not sure what 'recovered' is going look like for Korra."

Asami took that in. “You don’t think she’ll walk again.”

“That’s up to a lot of things. Most of all Korra.”

"What about Katara?" Asami asked.

"We all wanted take her directly to the South Pole after it happened, but Korra wasn't in stable enough condition to make the trip. She's out of the woods now, though, so we've made arrangements. We'll leave as soon as the ship arrives. Sometime after Jinora's ceremony." Kya began gingerly folding up the parchment.

Asami hauled herself away from the illustration of Korra’s shattered body and stood from the bed. She crossed her arms, staring out at the night of Republic City. "Do you think that Katara will be able to help?" she asked.

At that question, Kya’s voice softened. She’d stopped gathering up papers. "My father was once struck a blow by a lightning bender, right through the back. My mother healed him physically, but he suffered through constant pain and doubt. He could have been lost if it weren't for my mother."

Asami kept her eyes locked on the skyline. She wanted to rebuild an entire city, but right now, she felt powerless to even help her friend. The thought of Korra in that chair for the rest of her life - lost, unfixable Korra - made a panic rise up in her chest. The lights of skyscrapers blurred at the edges, and the floodgates opened. Her hands clamped over her mouth to hold back a sob.

She heard Kya rise from the bed, and soon the woman's arms turned her around. Asami let herself cry for the first time in days. "She's slipping.” Her hands were trembling as she brushed away her tears. “I look at her, and I don't see Korra."

Kya nodded, holding her shoulders steady. "It’s a lot for her process, honey. When you survive something like this, it’s too easy to get lost in your own fears and anger."

"But it’s her eyes. She’s just...gone. Zaheer broke her."

"No." Kya’s voice was stone. "I don’t believe that."

"I thought I could handle this. I thought that if I was here for her, did anything she asked, stayed close...that somehow that’d be all she needed."

"You’re doing more than you can imagine, Asami."

Asami stared down at the drawings, imagining Korra sprawled out on her bed, alone and in so much pain. “Some days I don’t think she knows I’m there. Or maybe she doesn’t care. I don’t know.”

Kya led Asami to the foot of the bed and sat her down. She brushed hair from Asami’s face, her words soft. “Korra is still finding herself again. Give her the time that she needs, and I promise, Korra will remember that at her lowest and darkest moment, you were there for her. She’ll know that she was loved. Unconditionally.”

Asami's throat closed up on itself. She’d kept the word to herself. Close to her heart. Protected. She tried to remember the last time that Korra had smiled at her. The bold, joyful smile of a bold and joyful woman. More tears burned her eyes.

"Oh.” Kya went quiet for a long moment. “Oh, honey..." Asami looked up and found Kya studying her face as though they’d never met before. "Does she know?"

Asami's face flushed. She balled her hands together to stop them from shaking. "That's not what she needs right now. She just needs us to be there."

Asami pushed down tears, and Kya pulled her into a fierce hug. "Asami, if there is one person in this world who can help the Avatar find peace and strength, it's my mother. She will do everything she can.” Kya pulled back, holding Asami’s face in her hands. “Do you hear me? She will move mountains for Korra."

Asami nodded, letting Kya pull her close again. Despite the welcomed confidence Kya had in what came next, the raging ache of panic in Asami’s chest would not settle.

She left the island to sleep in her own bed that night.