Disclaimer: I don't own Legend of Korra.

Title based my listening to Heathens by 21 pilots. Not a song fic.


His childhood and even teenage innocence were long gone. Mako's innocence had disappeared long before his. His older brother had tried so hard to protect him but in this life, there was only so much that a person could be protected. They had started sending them on separate tasks and Bolin had learned everything Mako had known years ago, like how to harden himself and how to do what needed to be done. He had learned long ago first to stay quiet when dealing in shady dealings, then later to become vested in the outcome.

The older they got and the more that they did, the higher up on the food chain that they got. Especially after Amon had taken several of the ranking leaders out before the avatar even noticed, much less did anything about it. Thankfully, he nor Mako had been one of the ones picked up, mostly just by luck. Those chi blockers had been nothing to be laughed at, not that he laughed much anymore, ever since he had been exposed to the true polar-dog eat polar-dog nature of the world.

Some people wanted to resist the nature of the world. One of many of his jobs was to remind them of it. He strode through the familiar darkened streets with ease, even with the dim outside lighting. His feet knew the earth better than many and watched as heads ducked away from him with amusement.

They had developed quite the reputation over the last five years. Both The Triple Threat Triads and he and his brother. They had to after Amon had reduced their numbers so quickly and only those the Avatar deemed worthy were given their bending back. The Triple Threat Triad was not included in that. They had to recruit more and use more...strong recruiting techniques than initially he liked but grew to understand their necessity. Numbers were power. If they didn't have enough power, the other gangs would devour them like shark-whales.

He didn't pause as he looked the familiar glow of the portal that he had passed many times while on business. Some firebending general had apparently died exploding the machine of Kuvira's, leaving the city in shambles. It was good for all the gangs of the city. At first.

The portal itself had become a constant thorn in The Triple Triads side. It was in triad territory but during the day there wasn't much that they could do about it. People came in droves to see it, those who couldn't afford to go the poles that the avatar had left open as well. They would clog up their streets. Worst of all, t it appeared to give some people hope and defiance. Things like that were dangerous.

It was only night that they could reassert their authority and dominance over the area. Seeing the portal always put him a bad mood, which was usually unfortunate for those he 'visiting'.He quickly made his way to his destination but didn't knock before he opened the door with a large rock, that really demolished the door more than just opening it. But it was part of their new stance. They had to keep people afraid of them or risk losing everything. Still, he allowed himself to take a little pleasure in his work. His 16-year-old-self would be horrified by the level of pleasure he found intimidating people, but that part of him had died long ago.

In moments, a lot of little kids ran from various doors to see what was going on. Before he could catalog their features, an older man stepped in front of them and then told them to go away. Bolin allowed it, it was only the older man he needed to talk to. Apparently, one boy who couldn't be much older than 10 decided to stay behind despite what had to be his grandfather insistence that he go with his likely brothers and sisters. He didn't mind, the extra set of eyes. It would only serve him.

"I thought we were clear on when your payment was due. You're late," He said evenly to the old man in front of him. The older man was paling and his eyes darted to his...grandson? Then moved back to Bolin several times. Bolin laughed when he realized that the man was worried that he was going to hurt him.

"I just want the money old man. Without it, I can't guarantee that your shop will be safe." Bolin was pretty sure the old man registered it for the threat that it was but just in case he continued, "Much less your house. I mean look what happened to the door," he said touching the wood door that was barely hanging on its frame and then to the large hole in the wall when the rock had gone through it. He shook his head with false sympathy before focusing back on the old man, this time completely serious and sincere, carefully watching him.

The old man was a bender. They had branched out of just non-bender but mostly just the old and incapable, for now. The young, they recruited with promises of money and power for those who were more well off. Those who weren't as well off were lured with promises of meals and shelter. It was how he and Mako had been lured in the first place, after all. But at this point, he couldn't imagine his life any other way.

"I don't have it," the old man said after a long moment, stander straighter than most did when they said that phrase that he hated to hear. Bolin sighed, but really just for effect, because he really did like intimidation.

"That is really quite the shame," Bolin said evenly and started looking around the room.

"Is there anything you have that worth the money that you owe?" he said even as he internally answered his question. No. The front room was a kitchen, dining and living room all in one but. It was full of shabbiest furniture that Bolin had laid eyes on in a long time. They certainly didn't have money for nice things, probably spent on the little kids. Curious, bunch of kids no adults. A corner of mouth twitched upwards. The old man was probably caring for his grandkids because his children had died. He wondered idly if it was in the same fight that brought the portal.

"How about one of the kids? We could give them a job. A starting place? Something to contribute, protection. Until you get back on your feet," he spoke smoothly, making it seem like less of a lifelong commitment than it was. There was only usually one way you got out. The kid stepped forward between the two of them looking angry at him.

"You're a monster! You're a bender like us. Why are you terrorizing us!"

"This? This is a warning. A pleasantry. We can get mean." He hoped the kid understood his warning, no matter the light tone it was delivered in. He didn't like to hurt kids, but he would if he had to.

The older man moved closer to his likely grandson and held his shoulder tightly.

"Not interested," he said but his voice wobbled a little bit likely due to the fear. A good reaction, because he didn't much like to be refused once, much less twice in one night. Nor much liked being called a monster. Bolin debated his options. The only thing off the table was killing him because dead people can't pay. There was the kid...he had implied he wouldn't hurt him but that was before the old man had been refused twice and the kid had called him a monster. Bolin strode forwards towards the kid, though he hadn't really decided exactly what he was going to do yet.

The previous bravo in the kid faded away and he cowered against his Grandfather, but Bolin caught something under his shirt. A little string. He stopped in front of the kid and after a moment's hesitation pulled the string out of his shirt and off the boy's neck in a quick motion. It was old. That was sure. The object had a worn appearance to it and Bolin wasn't exactly sure what it was supposed to be, other than it seemed to have been carved painstakingly out of wood.

He heard two sharp inhales of breath and looked up to see both the old man and the young boy staring anxiously at the little piece of wood. Hm, interesting. This apparently meant something to them. While it was probably worth very little in terms of money, it seemed to have some emotional significance to the two of them. Maybe he could use that.

"What an interesting trinket," he said watching the two of them carefully. The little boy's expression was more open than the old man's but he could see that this was incredibly important to him.

"I'll think I'll keep it," he said moving it towards his pocket but the kid stepped towards Bolin and put his hand out.

"Wait!" the kid yelled much to the horror of his Grandpa. "It was my Dad's. Please don't take it away. It's all I have left of him." So he had been right. But he was barely thinking of that. He was more focused on the odd wooden piece and a similar red scarf came to mind. The last thing he and Mako had of their parents. It had been a raggedy scarf, but it was worth more than anything to them. It brought back the sharp pain of his childhood. Missing them, while trying to find something to eat and somewhere to sleep for the night. It brought back the memory of his parents, which, honestly he tried not to think about them anymore because it always led back to one question. Would his parents be ashamed of what and Mako had become? Would they think that they were monsters too?

Bolin shook his head trying to clear it. If they hadn't wanted him to turn out this way, they shouldn't have died when he was six.

"This is enough. You have three days or my brother who burn this to a crisp." he said putting the heirloom in his pocket. Hopefully, that would give them enough inspiration to pay up. He turned to go when the door behind them, that the kids had disappeared into at the beginning of their conversation opened. A young girl, maybe about five stumbled out, almost tripping over her own feet.

"The avatar will stop you!" she hissed angrily at him. Bolin laughed in response to her declaration and at her feistiness at such a young age but responded derisively.

"The avatar's dead, and the new one hasn't been found yet. From the looks of it, your grandfather he's probably not going to last long enough for the new avatar to do him any good. Besides, it's not like the old avatar was much good anyways, who says the new one will be any better." The little girl looked stricken by his words and looked betrayed back to her grandfather, who just looked defeated but was still holding tightly to his grandson. There was a tiny part of him that wanted to stay and hear the drama about to unfold but it had been a long day and he hadn't eaten.

"Three days," he warned again before leaving, ignoring the ruined door on his way out.


He opened the door. Most rooms in their complex were singles but this room had been made with two rooms off from the main room. They were often so busy in their different streams of life, that the only time that they saw each other was at night, they would eat and then turn in to do it all over again. Bolin was exhausted as he collapsed onto the nearest chair by the table, then regretted it as the food was in the fridge. He debated whether or not to get up for a few seconds, before his eyes were drawn to a curious new stain on their carpet. It was brown, well, a dark reddish brown that look suspiciously familiar. He got up a followed a trail all the way to their bathroom.

"Mako?!" he called worried through the small apartment. The door swung open a minute later and Bolin took in with mounting anger all the blood that was covering his clothes. Most of it was on his shirt, but it was also speckled in other places.

"What happened? Who do I have to kill?" Who would be stupid enough to attack Mako? If Mako himself didn't kill them, they knew that Bolin would. Attacking either of them was essentially a death sentence. Even if everything else changed that hadn't.

"It's not mine," He said wiping off the blood with a washcloth. Bolin relaxed after hearing that good news "A new recruit was insolent." Bolin nodded his understanding. Mako trained the newcomers. Bolin did too, the earth benders. New recruits were often rebellious, especially those sold to the Triple Threat Triad by their parents to pay a debt. They often had to be 'taught' respect.

"What do we have in the fridge?"

"Why don't you go look?" Mako responded with a roll of his eyes. Bolin nodded and headed back the kitchen, hungry again now that he knew his brother was fine. He opened the fridge and looked at what they had to eat. The upside to being so high up in the organization was that they didn't have to shop themselves. Just had to ask for it. A quick look at the kitchen and fridge showed that Mako hadn't started dinner yet. It might take awhile to get all the blood out of his clothes. With that in mind, he pulled some things out of the fridge calling as he did.

"I'm going to make dinner then!" he yelled to his brother who shouted back.

"Okay." He couldn't cook like his brother but by the time his brother walked out of the bathroom, having taken a shower first. Bolin had a simple meal on the table for the two of them. Mako looked gratefully at Bolin before he sat down and starting digging into the noodles and Bolin did the same. As they ate there wasn't much in the way of conversation, which was becoming more and more normal as time wore on.

There used to be a lot more when they were younger. This was their sanctuary, away from The Triad and the rest of the world. Where Bolin used to blubber every night, full of guilt, about the things that he had to do. Mako would comfort him for a little bit then tell them that he had to get used to it because it was only going to get worse, especially after Amon. He was right. It had gotten worse and the only way to survive it, to survive at all, was to learn was that the strong devoured the weak. This life, this life was easier once you learned it. So, it was a message they passed on to the new recruits willing and unwilling alike, so hopefully, they too would survive in this world.