Water lapped and tugged at the bobbing wreckage with the gentle touch of a mother, the calm ocean waters encouraging what remained of an exploded boat into its depth. For an eternal burial, forever to rest upon the sea floor. An engine was tugged underneath, its weight pulling it down and down, until it no longer peeked up above the wavering surface of water and gave in to what was inevitable. As sea birds cried and dove deep into the waters in hunt of fish, ignoring the scene of destruction, their vigorous hunting was abruptly halted by movement that did not belong to their own kind. Frightened into flight, the birds scattered away from a moving form that was most certainly not fish.

Clothes thoroughly bogged down with water and lungs brimming with the salt-filled liquid, the first reflex of waking up from such a disastrous event was to cough. And cough the newly awakened man did, air unable to find its way into his system when his lungs were already busy with the water that had been taken in. Blood intermixed as all of his lungs contents were spilled back into the ocean where it belonged, the watery coughing turned dry as nothing else was left to be expelled. Swallowing large gulps of air greedily, clutching at the thick plank of wood that he had been miraculously placed upon in the explosion of the boat, commonly known Amon, true name Noatok, sagged wearily against his sure lifesaver. If it weren't for the hunk of wood that now served another purpose aside from a building block to a boat, he was more than certain that he would be dead. Drowned in the ocean, seeing as how the flickering flames that reminded of what had occurred had been gobbled up quite quickly by the vast waters.

It had been a close call, his Equalist clothing singed and torn away in most places, his brunette hair disheveled from its combed, neat state. Face littered with scratches and hints of burns, the damage at least did not mimic the faux image of scarring that replicated a true burn created in order to further instill the identity of Amon. That would have been sheer, cruel irony.

Sore and aching, recollection of what had occurred flashed by the forefront of his foggy mind in bits and pieces as he rested against the floating wood, trying to recover himself. He and Tarrlok, his younger brother, had been sailing off to a new life. It had seemed perfect.
There was no doubt that despite the horrors they both endured through childhood and the drastic changes as adults they suffered due to their revenge-crazed father he still loved and adored his sibling like he had been they had been young and innocent. It was an affection carried strong through his change from Noatok to Amon, the cunning leader of the Equalist party that desired nothing more than to eliminate all bending, to create a world of equality.

Now, of course, that group was gone, erased upon the forced revelation of his own bending.

But he had been willing to put that into the past! All in the name of starting fresh with his brother, all in the name of living the life he and Tarrlok had missed out on due to their lives as mere soldiers of revenge, brainwashed into the mindset of their father. Now, here he was in the middle of the ocean, far from Republic City, on nothing more than a hunk of tree that no longer served its purpose as a boat. The engine was gone, from what he could tell with his eyes so fuzzy from what he supposed was a head injury, and vital parts had already sunk due to their weight.

And where was Tarrlok?

While there was no doubt in his mind as to who had brought this destruction upon the two of them—He was certainly smarter than that, even with in his current state – his panic was not any less. Envisioning his drowned body beneath the ocean current, utilized as some sort of cruel nesting area for fish to lay their eyes, water splashed around him as he twisted from his spot to better hunt for his younger sibling. That adoration that made him so attached, caused him to refuse to break away and had made him refuse to truly eliminate his brother despite the danger he had posed, elicited such a deep terror it could not be expressed through either words or body language.

Finding his throat too constricted to speak, dry from the fire and raw from the salt water, Tarrlok's name eluded his lips as Amon – no, Noatok now, that name served no purpose to him now – searched desperately. Finally, after nearly tumbling off of his makeshift raft in his sharp movements, pain spiraling down his damaged back from every jerk and shifting, his eyes landed upon a body in blue bobbing just above the water. Without any further thought upon his next course of action, something he hardly ever did, Noatok, utilizing what little strength he carried in his weakened body now, managed to bend the water around to gently nudge himself and his little raft to where Tarrlok floated.

It appeared his brother had not stirred quite yet, Noatok relieved to find him facing up rather than down, his chest rising and falling. It seemed that while he had not been cast upon one of the hunks of wood to float upon, he at least didn't take in enough water to drown. Looking around in order to double check that the two were certainly alone, having the vague feeling that perhaps a search party would be sent out in order to try and capture him, Noatok found that Lady Luck was upon their side. In a way, he supposed. Some medical assistance would have been appreciated, but alas, they would have to figure that out at a later point.

Loyalty to his brother keeping strong despite the sure betrayal, his arm hooked around Tarrlok's midsection, drawing him close in order to heft him onto the plank of wood, which held both of their weight combined well. Finding this good fortune to be much appreciated after the fall through of his plans, his hopes, and his dreams, Noatok took in a deep breath to steady his wavering mind, consciousness flickering in and out. Quite near passing out, he wasn't about to give in quite yet, the water around them beginning to churn as he made a slight motion with his hand, the ocean finding the mercy in it to push the two men towards the faint hint of shoreline he spotted upon the horizon rather than suck underneath and drown them both.

Perhaps there was some hope left.

Author's Note;;

Derp. Last episode of Legend of Korra had me so giddy and so sad and all the emotions oh gosshh. Couldn't resist writing a fic, and I suppose if you squint, it could be considered Noatok x Tarrlok. Because of my eternal love of Amon, of course I had to make sure he lives! Damaged and quite injured, a little fuzzy in mind, but alive and well. And as is Tarrlock, though I am sure a lot of you guys loathe him. I kinda do. Kinda don't. It is a love hate relationship :B

Should I make this into another story, aside from my currently running Further Travels?
I'll be contemplating that question while my muse for Korra remains c; THANK YOU FOR READING!