braavado | IC CONTACT (FOR HAVEN)

Yeah... [Korra's smile is wry as she looks down.]

I sort of learned that the hard way.

[He leans back in his chair. The water is cool against his side, but it's soothing.]

I'm sorry. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

You learn that...when you're in a battle.

[Korra's words are soft as she tends to him.]

No matter how much you plan, things just keep going wrong, and people keep getting hurt--

[She cuts herself off, frowning.]

[He draws a breath, cants his head to one side.]

It's all right to talk about it. If you need to. It helps. Sometimes more than you might think.

It's the same for you, you know.

[Korra looks at him, thinking of all the memories she'd glimpsed while he was struggling with his telepathy.]

[There's a flicker of a smile.]

I know. I'm speaking from practical experience.

I guess...I'm still not completely used to it. [She's gotten better, but pushing those first few words out of her mouth to start is just...too much of an effort sometimes. Korra looks at Steve hesitantly.] It's hard to say these things when it feels like people expect a lot from you.

[She pauses.] Did you find someone you could talk to?

[He's silent for a moment. He doesn't like sharing the details, but-- she's someone that needs it. He can lay down on this wire for her.]

Not at first. When I grew up, it was... normal, not to talk about your problems. If there was something wrong with you, up here-- [he taps a finger against his temple] You were considered weak or sick or insane, and you couldn't show that to anybody if you wanted people to think well of you.

[How many men came back from the war and killed themselves? So many people he knew ate a bullet, or drank themselves to death, or simply disappeared. All so the rest of the world wouldn't have to see them bleed.

The world isn't much better now, but with men like Sam-- it's starting to get that way. PTSD isn't shell-shock any longer, it's a recognizable post-combat disorder, diagnosed and treatable. It's not a perfect system, but Steve's glad it exists, and he's glad it's helping people. But coming to terms with his own biases has been harder. Captain America is a symbol, and no one likes to see their symbols break under strains and stressors like normal men. But Steve Rogers is just a man.

He forgets that sometimes, just like the rest of the world.]

The world I came back to after the war was a lot different than the one I'd left. A couple years in, and I met a man - Sam Wilson? He's been around, you might've seen him - who's a counselor for guys like me, coming out of combat. I think I talked more to him than I had to anyone else in the two years before. He'd been there too, so he knew. Asked me about my bed being too soft.

[He snorts.]

Other people didn't get that.

[But Korra will, he thinks.]

[She doesn't get it at first either. Then other memories begin to filter in, filling in the blanks--the bed being too soft that first night on the air ship as they left for Ba Sing Se. It'd taken her a while to figure out that she had gotten used to the hard, wooden beds at the air temple. Now, Korra was no soldier, not in the way Steve was, but those in the army usually slept on the ground when they were on the move, didn't they? It takes her some time to puzzle all this out instead of asking, quiet as she stares down at her hands.

What Steve is telling her now, it's not the same as what she knows, but she thinks she understands a little. Going through what he did, even the little things leave prints that are hard to erase. And those marks go unnoticed until something makes it known. Until the bed feels too soft underneath you.]

You got used to sleeping on the ground.

[Korra's voice is soft, a little uncertain as she ventures a guess. There's so many things she wants to say, but she's having some difficulty doing so. Though her hands stay steady, her gaze drops down. There's something else that's nagging at her. Some of his words hit a little too close to home, if she's honest with herself.]

There's... counselors for people who were in combat? [Those are the words she speaks. The fidgeting, the slightly lowered tone, the surprise--they say something else: This is normal? Needing a counselor after seeing combat? Her wondering probably proves Steve's point, and she doesn't even realize it.]

[His mouth twitches upwards into a humourless smile, more sad than anything.]

There are. And they do a lot of good for those that need them. It... took me a long time to admit that it wasn't a weakness to come out of a war without your head screwed on straight.

[He still struggles with that one in his own private heart. Admitting you need help is one thing. Accepting it quite another.]

The important thing to understand is that you aren't alone. Maybe no one shares your exact circumstances, but there are similarities in every war, every loss. Shared life experiences you can draw on. That sort of thing.

[She keeps her head bowed down as she considers his words. Though Tenzin's tried to talk to her before, tell her that fear isn't a bad thing, she hadn't been willing to listen at the time, and they'd never really gone back to the subject.

Besides, everything had been fine, hadn't it? She'd gotten her bending back and merged with Raava again. The world had moved on. So why did she still have nightmares about them sometimes?

It isn't a weakness. But it sure feels like it sometimes.

Korra finishes mending his ribs and any of the damage the shifting around might have caused before pulling her hands away.]

I've fixed a lot of the breaks, but it's still not completely healed. Normally, you'd have to wait a couple weeks for it to stop feeling so sensitive without another healing session, but if it's you...maybe a week? Or less.

[When she finally lets herself look up again, she's uncertain. Vulnerable. But it's Steve... he's been through some horrible things, too, if those glimpses she'd caught say anything.]

What's... normal? For people who don't come back from combat right?

[He draws a deep, experimental breath. You never really realize how much pain hobbles you until it's lifted from your shoulders.]

Thank you.

[He drops his hands down against his thighs, stands after a moment and sets about making tea. He's got a little left over, might as well.]

As for what's normal-- I don't know. Normal means something different for everyone. But I do know it's not about coming back right. That implies that what you're feeling or how you are is wrong. It's not.

[He sets the teapot down on the stove, and turns back to face her properly.]

You can't come out of war or conflict the same person you started. I don't care who you are, you just can't. Hurting other people, killing them-- being injured, living with that pain or in fear. Making choices that hurt other people or get them killed. That costs.

If you move forward long enough, and aren't afraid to lean on your friends, or talk to folks when you need the support... sometimes the bad stuff fades. You've been through a lot, and I don't know the half of it or presume to. [He gives her a slight, warm smile.] But I do know you're strong. And not-- in the sense you never falter. Strength doesn't mean never being weak. It means getting back up when you fall.

[He turns his attention back to the tea, drops a couple of bags into a cup that's chipped and worn, and one made of tin and brings the both of them to the table, setting the ceramic one down in front of her.]

One thing to remember-- strength isn't an infinite resource of the soul, Korra. Everyone has a breaking point. There's no shame in meeting yours, or needing time to come back from it. No one looks at you twice if you get injured - break a bone, get shot or stabbed - and need time to recover. But no one ever tells you it's okay to need time when you've been through your own private Hell. And they should.

[She listens raptly, keeping her eyes on Steve the entire time. It's not the first time someone's told her leaning on your friends is completely normal, and a good thing. But everything else is new, and she drinks the words in quietly, even if they strike a little too close to home.

She isn't the same Korra who walked into Republic City for the first time, nor is she the same Korra who woke up in Haven. She hasn't escaped from any of her experienced unscathed. But what is her limit? Her breaking point? She isn't too sure of it herself, or maybe she does know and can't bring herself to admit it completely.

(She's the Avatar. She doesn't, shouldn't, have a breaking point.)

Korra drops her gaze back down to her hands, aware of the cup of tea he's placed before her.]

What about-- [She stops, uncertain if she should continue.] Nightmares? And feeling...off, even if you aren't really hurt. Injured. [Korra eventually trails off and reaches for her cup, just so she has something to hold onto.]

[He tilts his head as he takes his own seat, and pushes his cup a little further away from the edge of the table.]

Nightmares are normal. When you don't... deal with things on a conscious level, your subconscious needs to pick up the slack. So you get nightmares, or night terrors. [His mouth twists.] And hey. What'd I say? There are a lot of different ways to wind up hurt.

[He curls his fingers around the tea. Gently,]

What's bothering you?

It's-- [Nothing, she wants to say. Though it's not really nothing if it's still itching at her after all of this time, enough that she felt like bringing it up to Steve, is it?]

I get them sometimes. The stuff that happened at home, and the stuff that happened here.

[Korra's shoulders tense up, the more she talks.]

If it's something in the past, and everyone's moved on, then there's no reason to have them, right?

[He lifts the cup to his lips, and takes a slow sip before he clears his throat and settles it back down.]

That's not true at all. First of all - it's not how other people deal with what they go through. It's how you deal with it. That's it. No one else. You can't put a time limit on how long you're allowed to be bothered by something you've done or seen. You can't compare yourself to other people for two reasons - first, their life experiences have lead them to deal with things differently than yours have, and second-- Korra, you don't know what they're thinking. If they're hurting or not. People are good at hiding this sort of thing. For a lot of them, their lives can depend on it. It's not that they're lying to you about it on purpose, it's just-- coming to terms with trauma is difficult for everyone in different ways.

[He shifts his weight, and leans forward so his elbows are braced on the table. Sam put his problems on the table first. It's what made him an effective counselor. Never let it be said that Steve doesn't learn.]

I still have nightmares about the first time I killed someone with a bayonet. That's-- a knife, on the end of a gun. It was more than five years ago, for me, and when I dream I can still feel the heat rising off the [-- spilled intestines, but--] blood as it hit the snow. I don't think he was older than sixteen. Lot of boys lied about their age to sign up real young, on both sides. [His expression twists, and he tries for a weak smile.] That stays with you.

[And he wouldn't want it otherwise. The least he can do is carry that weight.]

[The description of that kill leaves Korra breathless, throat tight as she thinks suddenly of the way Wan's blood had felt on her hands as she finally woke from the spell. The feeling of the warm liquid dripping down her skin is hard to forget.

Korra forces her body to relax with minimal success. This is so much more than she would have expected when she first started talking to Steve. Talking is harder when she knows she could technically just continue with her mouth sealed shut. But Steve is putting trust in her by telling her of his own nightmares, and Korra feels as if she should respond in kind.

She kind of sees what he's trying to tell her, though. Five years have passed, and he still has that nightmare. She's barely a year past her own experiences.]

So there isn't really a way to ...get over it. Not the nightmares or anything. Not even if you talk about it?

[Though he hasn't said it, Korra thinks along the same lines that he does. She doesn't want to forget what happened, not when she hurt someone else. She needs to learn from the experience.]

[He gives her a wan smile.]

Talking helps - lets you know you aren't alone. And time can dull the memories. But if you're looking to go back to how you were before the trauma-- I'm sorry. I don't think it's possible. All you can do is move forward from here, relearn how to exist in your own skin again. How to trust yourself.

[That smile turns gently encouraging, and he reaches out to cover her hand briefly with his own. He doesn't like touching people, and the last time he touched Korra resulted in a series of shared memories the likes of which they're talking about now, but comforting a friend costs him nothing.]

[The touch to her hand makes her look up, expression conflicted. She appreciates him being honest--and realistic. That the focus should be moving on rather than going back. It gives her something to think about.

The smile she gives him in return is just as tired.]

I think it's the "trusting yourself" part that I have trouble with sometimes.

[Quietly,]

You're pretty hard on yourself, huh?

[Korra frowns a little.]

What do you mean?

You take a lot on your shoulders, helping others.

[He gestures, vaguely, to where she'd used her healing on him. It's not all of what he means, just the tip of the proverbial iceberg really given what he's seen her do and help with.]

Who helps you?

[She draws back, surprised.]

I have--friends. They help when things get bad. [She avoids his gaze now. Being in Haven's made her more aware of her habits, and she knows that her tendency to run off and try to solve everything on her own is something that frustrates her friends at times.]

Besides, I like helping people.

[Oh, girl. Steve's silent a moment, and then,]

So do I. [He doesn't know what he'd do with himself if he couldn't help others. It's all he has left, in the future.] But be aware, that sort of behaviour can also crop up as a way to avoid your own problems.

[Korra's shoulders stiffen a little, and she bites her lip.]

I'll--keep it in mind.

[It's not exactly a denial, but it's pretty clear this isn't something she wants to delve into just yet. What is she supposed to do if she isn't helping other people?]

IC CONTACT (FOR HAVEN)

gasp

well I'm home now!!

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cw suicide/war horrors

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