All recognizable characters and allusions are property of Viacom, Nickelodeon, and the creators of The Legend of Korra.

Summary: Mako deals with the news that Korra has been missing for the last six months. Post-4X01 "After All These Years".

Sweat dribbled over Mako's temple as his punch landed with a satisfying thunk on the punching bag in front of him, which he had been at since he left Wu for the night. Most nights he went straight home, too bothered and irritated with Wu's choice of society to go out and seek some of his own, but tonight was different.

Then where is she?

Mako drew back his fist and swung with ample power, gritting his teeth at the question bouncing around in his head.

Then where is she?

It had taken all of his carefully constructed self-control not to burst and ask the same thing on the docks. He would have scared everyone, and frankly, he would have scared himself. So he said nothing, and he waited.

His swings at the punching bag became less precise and the skin on his knuckles began to throb as his vision tunneled.

Korra left the South Pole six months ago. She's written me letters.

But Chief Tonraq had not brought the letters with him. There was no proof. There was no lead to even an idea of her whereabouts. He would have done anything to be included at the small table where Tonraq, Tenzin, and Lin sat apart from everyone with their heads bowed closely together in deep conversation during dinner, but Wu always needed constant supervision and he had no choice.

I don't know how to tell you this…you're going to Ba Sing Se with the prince.

Ba Sing Se. Ba Sing fucking Se. The last place he wanted to go to of all the places in the world, especially now. Mako drew back his fist, ready to strike.

"Hey, bub! No bending in this part of the gym!" A voice barked angrily behind him.

The boiling anger that had materialized as a flame at his clenched hand extinguished abruptly as his surroundings came into focus. The all-night gym he was at was nearly empty save for himself, a couple of men lifting weights at another corner of the room, and the angry older man who had just yelled at him at the desk by the entrance. Mako straightened, sucked in a deep breath, and threw an apologetic glance at the old man.

"Pay up the fifteen yuans and you can go blast fireballs all you want in the back," the old man continued, throwing his hands up and reminding him vaguely of Toza. He wasn't sure, though. The memory of Toza and probending was dim in his mind.

"Sorry," he muttered, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. His ears were ringing and his chest heaved with strained breathing that was trying to catch up with his hammering heart. He walked toward the desk, heading for the locker room behind it.

"You ain't gotta leave so soon," the old man said as Mako walked past him. "I just can't have you wild kids busting up my equipment all the time."

Mako said nothing and continued into the locker room, blinking away the beads of sweat that stung his eyes.

The locker room, much like the gym's main floor, had seen better days. The lights were flickering, the lockers rusty, and the floor's only remedy for cleanliness was a complete replacement. But Mako hadn't chosen this place for its prestige. He went straight to the sinks and turned the knob for cold water, the sound of its running echoing hollowly across the room. After hastily undoing the wrappings on his hands he dunked them under the ice-cold stream and leaned over to splash the water on his face.

The water was like a shock, bringing his mind back into a state of lucidness and he rubbed his eyes as he straightened to look in front of the dirty mirror. The sight he was met with was not one he wanted to keep looking at. He leaned down to splash more water on his face and tried very hard not to think.

The old man was watching him closely as Mako strode around the desk a few minutes later and made for the entrance. "Kid, something bothering you?"

Mako shook his head and slung his bag on. "I'm fine, thanks."

The old man gave him a strange look. "Sure. Come back anytime."

Mako nodded and tried not to clench his jaw because he knew he would not come back for a long time. The street was noisy with traffic as Mako walked out of the gym but thankfully the sidewalk was nearly empty. It was nearing midnight and the fog from the bay was settling in, making the air significantly cooler and mistier, which he was grateful for as it cooled the heated skin at his cheeks and the back of his neck. He walked with purpose in the direction of his apartment, leaving the gym behind him, but not the anger he'd been fighting off.

He sped up his walk and shoved his hands in his pockets, fighting off the thoughts straining to gain his attention.

. . .

His apartment was dark when he walked in, but he didn't bother turning on a light. He dumped his bag on the couch and plopped down next to it, letting out a long and frustrated sigh. He had hoped that letting off steam at that seedy all-night gym would help, but he was wired enough to stay up all night.

Then where is she?

Mako stared up at the dark ceiling, wondering the same thing. Where are you, Korra?

He closed his eyes and pictured her face. The first image that came to mind was her statue - the cold, lifeless thing that was supposed to be the closest likeness to her. For the longest time, he'd liked seeing it - it was like having Korra in front of him despite knowing that she was thousands of miles away. He used to walk by it every morning on his way to work just to look up at her. But as time went by, her emotionless face and dead eyes became too much and now he avoided the park at all costs. That was not the Korra he wanted to remember.

He shook his head and got up and went to the kitchen. After flipping on the light he went to the icebox and yanked open the door. Despite his increase in pay as a detective and later on as Prince Wu's bodyguard, he stocked his icebox much like he did in his early days as a rookie beat cop with next to nothing in there. He spotted the nearly full bottle of baiju and took it out and set it on his table and then turned to take a glass out of one of the cabinets.

He wasted no time throwing back two glasses of baiju, hardly pausing at his body's immediate reaction to reject it. It had been a long time since he'd had a drink.

"Come on, Mako, just try it with me," she said with laughter, shaking the bottle of liquor in front of him. "It's our night off."

"Do I need to remind you that neither of us are of legal age to drink that?" he answered, crossing his arms. "I just got my job on the force. I don't want to get kicked off already."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, Mr. Law-and-Order. It's not like we're going anywhere. It's just you and me. Tenzin and Pema and the kids won't be back until tomorrow afternoon and Bolin's out for the night with Asami. What trouble could we get into?"

"Do I really need to answer that?" he asked with a slightly sarcastic smile.

She stuck her tongue out at him and poured herself a glass. "Stickler."

He was nursing his fourth glass of baiju when he got up and stumbled to his room. His bed was soft and inviting as he leaned on it but he continued getting on his knees and blindly felt around under his bed until his hand touched the box he was looking for. He pulled it out and cradled it under his arm and went back to the kitchen, setting it down with an almost ginger tenderness in front of him as he sat down. The box was large enough to hold a pair of shoes and made of cheap brown cardboard, completely nondescript in appearance and with no markings on it indicating what was inside. Mako lifted the lid and set it aside before picking up his glass and finishing off his drink.

Inside were a tidy stack of folded newspapers, a blue sash, a facedown photograph, and a pack of cigarettes. He rubbed the blue sash between his fingers as he took out the pack of cigarettes and lit a cigarette with his free hand using the tip of his index finger and took in as deep an inhale as he dared, letting the smoke burn his lungs before letting it out slowly, tasting its bitterness as it swirled in a cloud of tendrils in front of him.

"First you get me drunk, and now you want me to smoke?"

"Ease up, Mako." Her eyes sparkled like jewels in the light of his and Bolin's new apartment. "I just want to try it. It's no fun if I do it by myself."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Those are bad for you."

"And so is eating a bunch of fried food but that doesn't stop you. Please?"

"No, Korra. Give those to me." He snatched the pack of cigarettes out of her hands and shoved them under the couch cushion, earning a look of dismay from her.

"Mako-"

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Let's do something else, shall we?"

The slow smile and glint in her eye had been all the answer he needed.

The memory faded away as Mako took out one of the newspapers. It was the most recent one, dated from two years ago. Republic City Park Renamed Avatar Korra Park After Voting Majority in Election. He'd circled the article with red pencil the day he bought the newspaper, promising himself to have it ready for her to read the day she got back. Back when he still had hope that she just needed another week, another month, to come back.

He poured himself another glass and took a long drink before taking out the facedown photograph. This was the oldest item in there after the sash. The date and a note were scribbled on the back in her handwriting - she'd insisted that he keep it. Look who actually smiled! Love you -Korra. How many times had he stared at it when she left, after they'd said those awful things to each other? Mako turned the picture face-up and looked at her smile before putting it away, feeling his chest tighten at the sight of it. He would rather picture the lifeless statue.

Mako sat back and pulled the cigarette from his lips and ran his free hand through his hair, ruining the last hold on his perfectly combed back hair. He'd always imagined that she would make fun of him when she saw his new hair. It had taken him a while to get used to it - and he had hoped that Korra would not immediately recognize him when she saw him again. When Beifong told him that Korra would be back in a few days, he'd spent whatever free time he had thinking up scenarios of what it would be like to see her again.

He put the cigarette back in his mouth and took another deep drag.

Who knows when I'll see her again. I'll be in Ba Sing Se indefinitely. I won't be here to welcome her when she comes back. I can't even help look for her-I can't do anything.

His hands shook as he picked up his glass and finished it off, no longer feeling the burn of the baiju as it traveled down his throat. This meant he was drunk, but he didn't feel drunk enough.

. . .

Mako was jerked awake by the sound of the clock striking the hour on Avatar Aang Memorial Island some time later but the sun wasn't up yet. He sat up, feeling dizzy, and realized he was still drunk. In front of him was a marked-up world map and his box was pushed off to the side. Groggy and still reeling from the alcohol, he rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock he had on top of the stove.

"Fuck," he muttered. It was four in the morning. His head was starting to throb and his knuckles and arms were sore. He looked down at his hands, flexing the stiffness out of them and reminded himself that he'd done this to himself.

He got up and stumbled to the bathroom and proceeded to empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet. When he was finished he sat back against the wall and hung his head between his knees.

Then where is she?

The question would not leave his thoughts. He got up with effort and rinsed his mouth out in the sink before turning back towards the kitchen to clean up the mess he'd made.

The map caught his attention and he heavily made his way back to his chair and plopped down in front of it. He vaguely remembered trying to trace all the different routes she could have taken before passing out. Ba Sing Se was a burned-out hole on the map from where he had angrily stubbed out his cigarette. His markings were nearly illegible and the lines were awkward and jerky at best, and in the end he'd given up and scrawled out ANYWHERE across the Earth Kingdom.

"Anywhere," he said lowly. Six months was a long time.

Her face floated at the back of his mind, the blue of her eyes clearer over anything else. She could be anywhere. And she never told anyone. Not even me.

The last part of his thoughts stung a little, even though rationally he knew he was being illogical. The bottle of baiju in front of him was empty, so he couldn't drink away the feeling the thought wrought in his chest. He picked up the pack of cigarettes and took out another one and lit it, sucking the smoke deep into his lungs and exhaling through his nose. His head spun from the tobacco and residual alcoholic stupor but he welcomed it.

I wish you were here. You could tell me how stupid I look and how I'm a hypocrite now because I smoke, he told her face in his mind. I'd give anything to see you again. I've waited three years. I'll wait forever for you, but I don't want it to be forever before I see you again. I wish I'd said more than "Get better soon" the last time I saw you. I wish I'd written you a thousand letters and tell you how much I still love you in every single one of them. I miss your eyes. I miss your laugh. I wish you'd never left.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes with his free hand and looked back down at the map, at the ANYWHERE in big black ink glaring up at him. He took a shallow drag of the cigarette and got to his feet, picking up his box and securing the lid over it. The box was nondescript on purpose - it fit anywhere without calling attention to itself. He found a new place for it on the top shelf of one of his cabinets and he shut it in with definitiveness. He'd come back to it someday, like he always did.

Mako turned back to the map and folded it up and threw it into one of the drawers, fighting the urge to burn it. But it wouldn't change anything - it wouldn't bring her back faster and he was too compromised in his position to even try to search for her.

He stood over the kitchen sink as he finished off his cigarette and the effect of the baiju began to wear off, feeling a nasty hangover coming. The clock behind him read that it was almost five in the morning and almost time for him to go and be at his post outside the hotel room. It would be a shitty day, but everyday he had to spend with Wu and not at the station - and now, without Korra - would be shitty regardless.

Mako made a mental note to go back to the all-night gym every day until he had to leave for Ba Sing Se and hoped, sincerely, that Korra would turn up every day until then.

A/N: Hi everyone! I got bit by a plot bunny and a whole lotta Mako and Makorra feels so they manifested themselves in this. I can't take all the credit for the idea, though. The first part was inspired by Chris Evans's opening scene in The Avengers letting off steam at the gym and Mako smoking was inspired by a Mako/Don Draper parallel post on Tumblr. I'm not that unhappy with the way it turned out, so I hope you liked it! As always, thank you so much for reading and feedback is greatly appreciated. Tell me what I did wrong, what I did well, and what I can do better! :D