He had never liked the night. Absolutely nothing good had ever come from anything associated with night. His parents had been murdered at twilight, he had had the hardest time protecting his brother in the darkness that pervaded the slums where they had settled, and, on those occasions that had did get a good night's sleep, it was when he had nightmares.

They had, up until a few months ago, been only about his parents and his brother. The ones about his parents were bad. He would relive their deaths in vivid detail, seeing each part of their flesh singe and the thuds of their corpses thudding onto the dark dirt as he hid behind the trash can his father had pushed him under. His mother's scream and the pain in his father's as he watched her die alongside him. And he after those dreams he would jerk awake and he would have the harsh scent of burning skin etched into his nostrils and that would be all he really could smell for the rest of the day.

If they were about Bolin, the nightmares were somehow worse. Bolin would be burning sometimes and he could do nothing to stop it. Any attempt to draw away the flams would only engorge them and Bolin would just burn faster. That was a dream that never went away, no matter how old he got. A nightmare that was becoming less and less common, although sometimes it would crop up, was the one where his brother was taken away by some stupid well-meaning orphanage and never being able to find him again. That one started to fade in his teens. No one wanted to adopt teenagers. But it had been replaced by a much, much worse dream about losing his brother. Now it was Bolin limply lying on the ground after his bending was taken away. And the once vibrant, cheerful brother was replaced by a broken, listless boy and he would know that somehow that it was his entire fault.

The dreams about his brother used to be the worst. The ones about his parents would leave him anxious and depressed for a few hours, but he knew it was just a memory. An awful, horrible, painful, soul-killing memory, but it was a memory all the same. The ones about Bolin were his fears, and he never stopped being afraid for his little brother. If any part of the dreams that haunted him at night ever came true in the day, he didn't know what to do. The thought of something bad happening to Bolin, was basically the worst thought he could imagine.

Or, it had been the worst thing he could imagine. Up until Korra had shown up and up until he had gotten to know her, nothing was worse than the thought of his brother getting hurt. But then he had had his first nightmare with her as the star. She had just been lying there on the ground, limp, possibly without her bending, and there had been nothing he could do to help. She would look up at him and he knew, he just knew from the look in her eyes that this, whatever had happened, was his fault, all his fault. He had woken up, the familiar feeling of his heart beating a thousand miles an hour against his chest.

Usually, if it was a nightmare about Bolin, he would simply look over and register that his brother was asleep across the room, and would slip back asleep, nightmares over for the night. But Korra was across the bay, he didn't get to see her until she showed up for practice, if she even showed up at all. He was so annoyed when she didn't come. Not only did it make them that less prepared for the championship, it just made the nightmare that much worse the next night, because even though he knew it would be all over the papers if she was hurt in any way, he needed to see with his own eyes.

It took him a while to figure out why he was having nightmares about Korra. It took him a bit to realize he cared about the loud, energetic, entrancing girl who had so abruptly fallen into his life. He just hadn't realized how much.

That is until Bolin had told him about their date and meeting Tahno. That night was one of the worst nights he had had in a long time. Korra had been sitting with Tahno's arm around her neck, giggling at him as he toyed with her hair, and for some reason that was so painful to see. Then Tahno lips had moved closer to her neck and… He had thanked whatever powers may be that Pabu jumped on his chest at that moment and woke him up. But when he went back to sleep the nightmares just got worse, much worse. Korra was lying on the ground, unable to move, looking at him, pleading for him to help her, as Tahno leered over her, running his hands slowly up her shirt. The waterbender shot him a look that informed him that he couldn't do anything if he tried. But the worst part is that he hadn't tried anything. He had just let him run his hands all over her.

He woke up in a cold sweat and he hadn't been able to really focus until he had seen her again the next day on the steps to the arena. Yes, they had argued over something she was totally correct on, but the most important thing was that she was okay, even though he had known she was never in any danger in the first place.

Then they had kissed and things had somehow gotten even worse at night. Now the nightmares involved both her and his brother. And he and Korra were together and that hurt him much more than it should considering she wasn't Asami, his girlfriend, or they hated him and that hurt even more, or worst of all Bolin and Korra were just unhappy and it was his fault and nothing he could do would repair their shattered friendship. Thankfully that one passed because for once, something in the real world was resolved and his mind could think of nothing more on the subject to torture him with. They were friends, even though deep down he wanted to be more than friends with her.

And things would've reverted to their natural cycle of his parents dying-something bad happening to Bolin-occasionally something awful happening to Korra horrible dream scheme that dominated his sleep pattern, but Korra had no idea how to not cause anxiety. At least he knew what Bolin was capable of, he knew where Bolin was going, and he pretty much knew the extent of his powers. But Korra was this unknown force and she always was out fighting, and to make it worse for him, she was expected to fight. And since she was stupidly heroic, she often went off without them, rising whatever insanely high anxiety levels he had way, way up.

So now there were a whole slew of Korra nightmares. If he was able to think positively about this whole thing, he would admit that he hadn't had to relive that awful night ten years ago as often and he hadn't had to witness the last of his family be killed or kidnapped in his dreams, but the costs outweighed the benefits. Because now, especially after that debacle of the championship, he had a front row seat to Korra being tormented in his mind.

Korra burning, sometimes it was his fault she was burning and sometimes he just couldn't stop it. This one was stupid, he was well aware. Korra was a better firebender than he was. Korra bleeding with him trying to stop the blood flow, but no matter what he did, it would just keep coming. She would waltz in fine the next day and he would briefly glance towards wherever she had been bleeding out in his dream, just to make sure. Korra sitting with another guy, he sometimes had a face, and sometimes he didn't, and loving it. That one made him feel so guilty and reaffirm his belief that he was an awful human being, especially when Asami would come in being sweet and loving. But that didn't stop the nightmares about Korra. Korra dead, Korra almost dead, Korra hating him, Korra sobbing for something he did… the nightmares about her just kept going.

And he didn't know what to do. He didn't want to care about someone else this much. He didn't want to be kept up at night by some woman who had strolled into his life and shaken it up. If anything, he wanted to have some sort of dream with Asami, his girlfriend. But they wouldn't come. And he knew that that meant that for some reason he cared more about Korra than her, and that wasn't right. But he did, and the longer he knew her, the more he did care for her.

And that meant the nightmares were just going to keep coming.