This one takes place in a different continuity from "Mythology."

I'd rate this one, eh, four stars out of five. Also, T.

Day 2: Illusion

It was supposed to be a simple re-con mission. She just wanted to gather some information. At worst, she expected to be assigned some security work.

She did not expect to be put as the sole caretaker of her worst enemy.

"He's been running a high fever and it seems to have made him delirious. He took some medication earlier but it seems to have made it worse," the Lieutenant had told her. "Do not tell anyone about this. We can't let anyone know of our leader showing signs of weakness. Understood?"

"Y-yes, Sir," Korra sputtered, standing rigidly. And then the Lieutenant left her alone with him.

Korra stared down at him. She could hardly see his eyes through his mask, but his heavy breathing told her that he was fast asleep. He was lying straight with his arms at his sides, precisely disciplined, yet the large blanket covering him almost made him look child-like; more so because she could see the top of his pajamas over the blanket. But he was still wearing the mask. Did he always sleep in the damn thing?

It would have been the simplest thing to just sneak out and let him waste away, but that… that wasn't right. It was not the victory she wanted. She could only live at peace with herself if she beat him at full strength, even if it meant that she had to bring him to full strength herself. Besides, a delirious Amon might have valuable information to share.

Still, she realized that she might never get another opportunity like this. Her whole arm shaking with nerves, she reached out to his covered face. With a tug at the edge of the mask, she realized that she would have to reach around to the back of his head and untie it, but just as her hand was in position to lift his head up, he snapped up.

Korra nearly fell backwards at the sudden movement. Amon looked around the room with none of his usual calculated grace. His eyes fell on her, and for a second, Korra feared he could see threw her equalist disguise.

"Tarrlok!" He accused. "Were you trying to steal my stuffed wolf toy? I told you, you CAN'T HAVE IT."

For a moment, Korra stared at him, at a loss for words. He must be having one hell of a hallucination.

"Tarrlok's not here. And he's not… trying to steal your toy," she finally said. He stared at her again and she could feel him scrutinizing her.

"Then you're a spy," he hissed. Her heart momentarily seized in her chest. He's just hallucinating, she told herself. He doesn't really suspect-

Before she even finished the thought, Amon leapt from the bed and bounded across the room.

"Hey!" Korra shouted, bounding after him. She managed to tackle him, surprising even herself. "What—are you—doing—you have—to stay—in here." It was sorely tempting to set him loose and let his followers watch him make a fool of himself, but she didn't want to blow this chance to get information from him.

"They're coming for me!" Amon cried, flailing to break free of her grip.

"Who, Tarrlok?" Korra asked, struggling to hold him down.

"No, you fool! The cushions!" He stopped flailing and pointed at a blank wall. "Don't you see? Their army is advancing!"

Amon wriggled against the sheet restraining him as a makeshift rope. Korra stood over him, panting, and wiped the sweat from her brow. Since when were sick people so strong?

Korra had never taken care of a sick person herself, but she did remember being taken care of by her parents and the Order of the White Lotus. She recalled that, whenever she had a fever, she needed to be cooled down.

There was a small kitchen area in the corner of the room, and from there, Korra drew some water.

Holding the water in the air with one hand, Korra tried to use the other to move Amon's mask out of the way, but his wild thrashing made it impossible. Instead, she placed the water on top of his head.

It suddenly occurred to her that she was using bending to help the leader of the equalists, and she took a sadistic pleasure in the thought. Just as the thought came to her, Amon settled down and started whining.

"Nng, Mommy, it's cold. I don't wanna get up," he said, curling up into a ball that made him look like a child again. Korra raised an eyebrow at him. Now he thinks he's a kid on the farm again? Perhaps if she humored him, she could learn more about him.

"Come on, Amon. It's time to get up. The farm isn't going to run itself," she said. Amon sat up and looked her dead in the eye.

"What are you talking about? There aren't any farms around here. Who is Amon? You're talking crazy," and then he fell on his back again, as if knocked back by an unseen force.

This just raised more questions in Korra's mind. "There aren't any farms around here"? So was Amon's story a lie? She'd already suspected as much. Did he grow up in Republic City? Why lie, though? At least now she knew that Amon probably wasn't his real name.

"Amon, where are we right-" Korra's question ended prematurely when she saw that Amon had gone back to sleep. Even if she woke him to continue the conversation, she suspected he would start talking about something completely different. None of his hallucinations seemed to last.

She stood over him and watched his chest rise and fall. Laying there, completely vulnerable, he almost looked—

No! Stop that right now! She scolded herself. He's a monster. He blew up part of the city and took innocent people's bending. He is not sweet.

Still, though…

Amon awoke the next morning feeling good as new. As he left his room, his lieutenant met him in the hall.

"Feeling better, Sir?" The man asked, lowly, in case someone might hear.

"Much," Amon replied. "Lieutenant, who did you assign to tend to me?" The Lieutenant stiffened.

"One of the low-ranking chi-blockers. I think she was a new recruit," the Lieutenant replied, vaguely. "Is there a problem, Sir?"

"No, she performed her task excellently. But for a large part of the day, I could have sworn it was the avatar taking care of me," he shook his head. "Such strange illusions the mind creates."