Notes: So, this is my first Korra fic! :D I didn't really watch Avatar, so please let me know if I derped it up to much. This wasn't shown to my beta for inspection.

P.S.: I can't wait for episode 4!

Disclaimer: This isn't mine, damn.

The Martyr

The world nearly came to an end on a relatively pleasant Tuesday morning. If it hadn't been for the sacrifice of one young bender - and no, it hadn't been the Avatar - life as everyone knew it would have ceased to exist with the first changes starting near the heart of Republic City.

From the moment he had discovered he couldn't get rid of Korra Mako had known he would likely be doing every bit as much day-saving as she would. He just had this gut feeling. Sometimes Mako wished his gut was wrong.

Now, with the world safe for a while longer the fire bender trudged to his room to rest. It was hardly nine and he had already played hero. He coughed and imagined that most heroes didn't normally feel this crappy at their victory celebrations.

No, by nine the world was safe. Eight forty had been an entirely different story though.

"You're not going, get back in bed!" Bolin had argued while blocking the door as Mako pulled on his shoes.

"Bo, we have a match in three days. We need practice."

Mako knew he wasn't fine. He also knew saying he was would leave the win up for his brother. It was just a cold though, he would push through. That is, until Bolin grabbed onto Mako's bare arm in an attempt to pull him back to bed and felt his chilled skin.

"Spirits, you're freezing! You need to get to bed now. I'll have Korra start warming up and then I'll go get you something to make you feel better." Bolin was back to pushing his brother to their room again.

"Bolin." There, there was that scary big brother tone. Mako would have smirked if he had felt better; he had this in the bag now. "I'm not going to bed, you're not wasting money on medicine I don't need, and we're going to go kick Korra's butt into shape for the match. Now hurry up before we're late." Mako strode past his brother intent on reaching the door.

"Mako, if you don't go back to bed so help me, I will throw a fit."

Mako froze with his hand in reach for the door.

Bolin felt well enough to smirk. "Don't think I won't," he warned and couldn't tell if his brother had grown paler due to his threat or because he might feel faint. Mako weighed his options carefully, his hand still suspended in the air.

Yes, Bolin hadn't thrown a fit in years.

Yes, Bolin was much older now.

Yes, nothing could stop his little brother when he was mid tantrum.

Yes, nothing was safe if he got going.

No, Bolin hadn't matured that much over the years.

With that settle Mako let his hand fall, hoped the people of Republic City were thankful, and trudged back to his room without another word.