Tarrlok levels his gun, staring into the barren wasteland. The hills are black and burned from the vestiges of the bombs that have been dropped, obliterating the whole of Republic City. As far as he knows, he is alone.
He brushes his long hair out of his face, gritting his teeth in pain as his fingers brush against the still raw wounds decorating his face and arm. It makes him wonder if in another reality these wounds are proof that he survived a traumatic event - and in his mind he sees the outline of a boat speeding across the waves and then a mushroom cloud. He shudders, trying to ignore the vision as he presses onwards, looking - hoping - yearning for another sign of human contact in this nuclear war wasteland that has left so many bereft, including the shining city that once stood on a island there in the midst of Yue Bay.
He stops briefly for a short rest, his eyes scanning the horizon intently as he seeks out any figures that resemble human forms. Later that evening, he falls asleep restlessly, his fingers clutching the barrel of the gun.
He awakens the next morning as dawn paints the blackened skies in light pinks and purples, urging himself onward despite his weariness. There is very little food to be found, and passing by the copses of people he once knew - he sees the fluttering remnant of the body of airbending master Tenzin, son of Avatar Aang, next to the still, burnt forms of his young family, including the one-month old baby, Rohan - nearly makes him throw up what little he has left in his stomach.
He walks through the streets of Republic City, holding his gun at the ready, trying not to breathe in the noxious fumes of the smoke that still billows up from the ground.
Is there anyone left alive? He wonders to himself. Or am I all alone?
His question is met only with an aching silence as he continues his journey deeper into the bowels of the dying city.
On the fifth day of his expedition into the city, his eyes widen as he catches sight of a figure emerging from one of the houses. He squints, trying to determine who it is, and then bites back on a gasp.
The figure materialises in front of him into the small person of Avatar Korra. Her face is dusty with soot and she looks exhausted. Her eyes are fonts of eternal misery as she stares at him, at first not recognising him, and then her voice emerges from her mouth, scratchily, as if she's not talked in weeks to another human being,
"Tarrlok?" she murmurs, reaching out to touch his hand. The expression in her eyes makes him think that she possibly believes that he is not real and needs the certainty of touch to reassure herself. "Is that really you?"
He manages a small, crooked smile for her, noticing that she appears to be in shock. He takes her hand in his, rubbing it gently as he answers,
"Yes, Korra, it's me."
"This is all my fault!" Korra wails, falling into his arms as he wraps them around her to support her. "If only I had been sooner… I could have prevented all this... so many dead... and because of me!"
"Shhh," Tarrlok whispers to her, stroking her hair. "It's nobody's fault. Korra, you did what you could. We all did. The disaster struck so fast none of us were prepared for it."
"But I'm the Avatar," Korra counters, raising her tear-stained face to gaze into his eyes. "I hold the balance of the world. I should have known, I should have seen it coming… and now there is virtually no one left - because of me."
"Korra, it's not your fault," he repeats to her again, laying his head against her forehead. "There was nothing anyway could have done, let alone the Avatar, in this situation... I'm sorry..." he amends, trying to comfort her in some way.
"Is there anyone else left alive?" she mussitates, leaning her head against his breast as he continues to stroke her hair gently. He stares down at her soft brown tresses fluttering in the smoke-laden wind and realises he can give her no good answer, so he just stands in silence for a while with her.
She breaks free of his embrace but he feels her hand slip into his as she leads him into the smouldering buildings, and he recognises the infrastructure towering on its death throes above his head as the former City Hall.
She stops short in front of a line of three bodies. One of them is a couple with their arms clasped around each other, the bright flowers of their red clothing the only remnant visible about them, and then the body of a young man dressed in green. Korra begins to weep again, trickles of dry sobs racking from her body. She indicates the intertwined couple,
"That's Mako… and Asami," she says in a voice ragged with sobs. "Mako was trying to protect her when the blast hit but he was too late - I was too late. Too late to protect my best friend, and he was too late to protect his love."
Tarrlok remembers the two as being a couple celebrated by Republic City, and soon to be married. The apocalypse had cut short those plans, he knows. He turns his gaze to the other form, fastening his mouth into a thin line as he looks at Korra,
"And that's Bolin," Korra continues, another racking sob emerging from her mouth. "I was too late to save him. His last words to me was that he was all right and that he wanted me to live… for him." she glances up at him, her eyes starry with tears. "We were together, you know. We were about to be married when the blast hit."
Tarrlok stares at her, tears running down her face as she tries to console herself,
"The papers called us Borra and everything was perfect..." she doesn't even bother to hide her grief now as she settles down next to the green-tuniced figure of her fiance, tears spilling over her cheeks and down onto his tunic.
Tarrlok awkwardly kneels down next to Korra, placing his arm around her shoulder as she leans into his chest. He feels her tears splash onto his shirt as he pulls her close to him, offering no words - who can offer words for a sorrow like this? - but merely giving himself to her so that she can have warmth and comfort.
In an attempt to distract her from her pain, he asks,
"Do you know where Lin Beifong and her metalbending corps are? Saikhan?"
Korra numbly shakes her head, clutching at his shirt as if she wants him to draw her closer to him. He cups her face in his hand, gently rubbing away her tears before helping her to her feet.
"We must try to find them, then," he urges her. "We can't be the only ones left in the land of the living."
"All right," Korra agrees, taking his hand in hers. She manages a brave smile for him, one that does not quite reach her blue eyes, nearly lifeless with grief. He pulls her close to him, murmuring to her,
"Don't worry, Korra, you're safe and sound now."
...
Hand in hand, they go together into the night as darkness blankets the world of smoke and ash in a coverlet of golden sparks, punctuating the fact they are walking into the skeleton of a world they now barely know.
Tarrlok builds a fire to keep them warm, and then watches Korra as she stares into the fire, her eyes still somewhat blank from her ordeal. He suspects that she is still in shock, so he gives her his jacket. She accepts it with cold fingers, but he sees in her eyes a fragment of gratitude.
Later that night they both sleep by the light of the fire, but sleep does not come easy for Korra. She cries out, despite being unconscious in the grip of slumber, for people she loves. He hears her call for Naga, the polar bear dog before tears tumble out of her closed eyes. Overcome with sympathy, he leaves his sleeping mat and walks over to her. He covers her with his right arm, letting her know that she is not alone.
…
"Naga! Naga!" Korra hears her voice echo as mountains of ash and smoke rain down on her. The polar bear dog gives an answering howl as she races through the city streets to her mistress. Another bomb falls to the ground, creating a huge crater in the street. Naga yelps in surprise, dodging it just in time as Korra feels her body surge into the glow of her past lives as the Avatar Force activates.
She calls upon her past lives to give her strength as she swirls the air beneath her into an air scooter.
"Be careful, Korra!" Bolin's voice reaches her in the midst of the din.
"I need to help Naga!" she replies, anxiety tempering her tone. "And don't worry, I'll be fine!"
She pulses herself forward on the air scooter, making her way through the minefield of bombs. Naga sees her coming towards her and lets out a joyful yelp that is suddenly abbreviated as another bomb descends - a smaller bomb than the previous ones, more like a grenade - on her. The dog collapses on her side as blood gushes forth from her wound. Korra's mouth falls open as she takes in the scene. She quickly pushes the air scooter towards Naga, a sense of loss already taking hold of her. She removes the scooter from beneath her, leaning down next to her polar bear dog, who licks at her wearily. She knows it is too late to save her.
"Naga, Naga!" she cries, taking the dog's face in her hands. She watches as Naga's eyes close and her body slumps in the posture of death. "Naga, no!" she shouts. "No!"
"Korra, Korra, wake up!"
She opens her eyes slowly, her vision having to refocus until she recognises the face of Tarrlok bending over her, his face an etching of worry. "You were having a bad dream," he explains to her. He looks almost afraid to ask the question he wants to, but after a moment the silence grows too intense. "Did something happen to Naga?"
She nods her head sombrely, unable to say anything that would adequately encompass what she wants to say. She just wants to cry and cry, and hopes that will help in some way. There is too much loss in her life right now.
"Don't worry, I'm here," Tarrlok murmurs to her. "You can hit me if you need to, if that will make you feel better."
She blinks at him, only just then realising the fact that this man came out of nowhere to help her the day before. She leans against him again, glad for his concern.
"No, I won't do that to you," she responds. "Just hold me for a while; I would appreciate that, Tarrlok." She feels his grip tighten around her arms protectively, reminding her somewhat of the same way Bolin once held her, when they were happy and young and carefree and no ideas such as bombs and death and devastation existed. She leans her head into his chest as he holds her, relaxing into his chest as he breathes in and out in the rhythm of breathing, causing her to adjust her own breath flow to match it with his. At last, she begins to relax and in that posture, with the glow of the fire outlining their silhouettes, she senses Tarrlok descend into slumber, his head resting on her hair, and eventually, comforted by his embrace, she joins him in his slumber.