To Lead , To Follow

by driftwoodq

After Avatar Aang's death, the new Avatar was born. However, Korra was born only with the ability to command three elements—water, fire, and earth. The other half of her Avatar Spirit went to another Water Tribe child, born at precisely the same moment she was, on the opposite side of the world—a young man named Amon. Rating subject to change.

3. Faith

- Faith -

It was late, and they were still working. Recently they had always been working. Understandably, really, since the Revolution was already begun and the city would be taken soon, but that still meant not a lot of sleep time. Amon had switched to caffeinated tea and his Lieutenant to coffee, and they were up together long after everybody but their night teams had gone to bed. The radio was crackling out a sleazy romance serial that Amon had been keeping up with—he kept pausing to listen and then returning to work—and they had both shed their uniforms down to the lower layers, Amon in his blacks and the Lieutenant in the loose tunic shirt and the darker, looser breeches that went under his outer layer, of the same fire-retardant cloth as the younger man's blacks. Amon still wore the mask, though, and Lieu's generator was set by his hand. No rest for the wicked, so they said.

"No." Lieu turned the map. Amon might have been a damn good strategist, but he was still seventeen. He was still learning. Lieu had over a decade of planning under his belt. Shifting closer to the younger man until their knees and thighs were pressed tight together, he turned around the pieces marking their ships. "Air Temple Island last—it's a stronghold, and hard to get to. If we can wait until we have the rest of the city, nobody will be able to come and get us. Once we get there we can stay there. The docks will be closed, nobody will be able to take a boat. And hopefully, there we'll be able to capture some part of Korra's entourage."

"Fair point." Amon's chin was on his hand, blue-grey eyes narrowed as his mind raced along, clicking through plans. He picked up all the pieces that showed their airships and plucked them from the board and re-lay them. "Step one—take down the Council. Without them, the police will be acting headless. That's your job—" they had an Exterminator uniform all set up and everything. "And we put all of them underground, separate. Tarrlok—I'm not certain what we do about him." He was the biggest issue when it came to the council.

The Lieutenant didn't say anything. He knew what they had to do, but Amon was still loathe to use his Avatar powers unless he absolutely had to. When he had done it to Zolt and the others at the rally of the Revelation, everybody had been too distracted by the fights going on, and too far away, to see the flash of light in his eyes. Tarrlok already had seen the full use of his Avatar powers when the man had accidentally triggered the Avatar State, but that had been before Amon had accepted his identity.

He had accepted it, he just needed to believe in it. He was still, for all his power as a leader, scared of himself.

"From there, we knock out the main power lines of the city. A few well-placed bombs should take down the main thoroughfares and close them, giving us more time. We can also cut the telephone and telegraph lines throughout the city. We'll use our own to get messages out and in." They ran underground, through their tunnel network, in and out of the city. Beneath the bay, even. "Then we take down the police—knock-out gas through the vents should do the job fairly well, and we can go in with our masks to clean up the mess. Mecha tanks outside to catch anybody who makes it out. And, simultaneously, we head to the Island." He paused, looked over at Lieu. "You lead it."

"I—what?" the Lieutenant blinked. "Shouldn't you be there?" Amon made a quiet noise of thought, leaned forward, steepled his fingers and leaned on his thighs, and set his chin atop his fingers.

"There are two good reasons that you should go there. First, you're more used to fighting Airbending than anybody else in our ranks." The Lieutenant shrugged—that much was true, he had spent plenty of time sparring with Amon, who used his skills sparingly but he was the Avatar, he had to keep them sharp. "Second, if I go, I will be out of the city. I need to be here, to coordinate our forces. As wonderful as Hiroshi and Weilan are, neither of them are commanders." Weilan was the head of their communications division—she was basically the next person in the chain of command. "If something goes wrong, I need to be here. So I trust you with the island."

"If I fail?"

"Just don't get killed. I want Tenzin and his family to get away. If they don't, we'll have to deal with a rallying cry for me to take the Bending from his children. People in our own ranks will want us to use them as bargaining chips. I would be all right with that with the Avatar, or Beifong, or Tenzin himself but…not children." His voice got very quiet. "They deserve to remain children a while longer. They're too young. They need to get out of here."

Lieu hesitated, reached out, and set a hand on his leader's shoulder, pulled Amon closer, pressed his nose to the top of the younger man's head, and tugged him over until Amon was leaning on his Lieutenant's chest.

"You were too young to be thrown into all of this," he said quietly.

"Avatar Aang was twelve. I had three years more than he did. I'll just count my lucky stars all that they did was disfigure me and nothing more."

"I don't think they disfigured you," Lieu replied, pulling back, and then sliding one thumb under the edge of the young man's mask, pushing it up until he could slide it off his face, set the porcelain aside on the table, and leaned forward to kiss Amon softly, one hand sliding to cup the back of his neck, the other set on his cheek. "I think you're beautiful."

Amon sighed and grabbed for the older man's shoulders, pulling him closer, making a quiet, broken noise in the back of his throat, sliding on the couch so that they could turn to one side, Lieu above him, one hand slipping over the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer.

"Please just kiss me," he whispered a moment later, voice wet and shaking. Lieu moved his hand from the younger man's cheek to curl around his waist, leaned further over him, one of Amon's legs locking around the older man's waist, tugging him closer until their bodies were slotted together, the background noise of the radio totally forgotten in favour of kissing, teeth and lips and tongues, Amon moving one hand to slide it up under the older man's shirt, setting it on his stomach, pulling him down harder by the inside of his shirt, widening his legs to lift the other around Lieu's waist as well, locked together on the couch, no words, just touch—

The radio started crackling and then rapidly beeped six times, high-pitched. They broke apart at the same time, Lieu jerking back, Amon's eyes flying open, and he scrambled, grabbed the radio, pulled it closer even as the Lieutenant grabbed for a piece of paper, scribbled down quick notes as the radio beeped. It was Equalist code. The six beeps had meant an urgent, emergency message. Lieu kept scribbling every set of sounds, long or short or wavering, while Amon grabbed for his mask, tugged it back onto his face, and listened carefully.

The message stopped. Lieu looked up. He felt flustered, and the top of Amon's neck and the remains of his less mangled ear were flushed red, and he took a shaking breath, gulping loudly, and looked over at the older man.

"Do you need—"

"Already translated." Amon had memorised almost all of their codes well enough to translate or respond on the fly—even making room for the codewords. "Tarrlok and Avatar fought in Council building. Tarrlok captured Avatar. Left city by way of car. Awaiting orders. Amon respond." He looked away from the Lieutenant and stood, adjusting his clothes—the part of him that wasn't the leader was shutting down. He started pacing over a well-worn line in the carpet of his office. "What do we do?"

"I don't know," the Lieutenant looked down at his paper with the codes. "If Tarrlok has her, he's going to try something. Use her as a hostage, maybe, but for what I don't know. Why did he even capture her?"

"Nothing," Amon said, stopping, facing away from his Lieutenant, arms folded behind his back. His shoulders shifted as he sighed. "We can't do anything. He is almost certainly going to blame this on us—we're the only people he can blame and I can't exactly come out and say I don't need the Avatar because I am the Avatar. No." He turned around, eyes hard. "We wait. Anticipating his moves at this time will only hurt us in the long run. He clearly isn't thinking straight, this isn't the Tarrlok we're used to. This is the Tarrlok that electrocuted you with your own weapon in vindictiveness." Lieu rubbed at one knee—he still had a few faint scars from that. Tarrlok hadn't, exactly, been careful with the power he had at his disposal that time. "He's operating on fear and adrenaline. If we wait, he'll give us an opening." Amon pulled his hands from behind his back, curled one into a fist, and punched it into his other one. "Right now, we prepare for the backlash."

"Which will be…"

"They will come to see if we have Korra, at the least. At the most, they could decide to mount a full-scale attack. If that is the case, it could destroy our plans. We need contingencies, preparation, we need to be ready. I need to respond." The Lieutenant nodded and Amon grabbed the reworked telegraph that was their method of sending messages, set it on his desk, and stepped back while Lieu hooked up the wires to the radio receiver, and made sure that it was patched into their telegraph system before he looked up at Amon.

"The Mouth speaks. Water acting on instinct. Wait for backlash. Do nothing. The Mouth is silent." Amon's orders—Tarrlok acting on instinct. Wait for backlash. Do nothing. Amon out. The Lieutenant patched it through in quick code, and they waited until it aired on the same romcom station as most things they sent did. And then it was quiet for a few minutes in the office until the radio responded with a quick burst of static and noise—

The Mouth is heard.

Now they would wait.

"They're coming," the Lieutenant said it quietly as he stepped back from the telegraph machine, and Amon looked up from where he sat at his desk. Tarrlok had reacted just like Amon had predicted he would—dumped the blame on the Equalists. And, just like they had expected, Korra's crew of sidekicks with clear hearts but unclear motives was already on their way, searching for them. The younger man sighed. "It's Beifong, the Fabulous Bending Brothers, Hiroshi's daughter, and Councilman Tenzin. Nobody else. What do you want to do?"

"Let them come." Amon said at last. "Don't stop them. Lead them in and lead them here. Get a couple of riders to make sure they find us. Make sure there's a tram that takes them to the prison—if we don't let them find us they'll send out a larger force, and that could be disastrous." He stood. "Beifong will bust out her cops, that much is certain, but let her. Clear out as many Equalists as possible—they can meet us on the way out."

"No." the Lieutenant crossed his arms, voice calm. "They can meet me on the way out. Amon, if they find you, we're in a whole different pot of water. How certain are you of Korra's abilities?"

"She can contact our past lives—but nothing else. And even then, it's like…a bad radio signal." Amon's eyes frowned. "Aang has been trying to get in contact with her, I've been able to feel it. Like a bad headache—he's been using me as a telegraph line to hop the signal to her. If she concentrates enough, she might be able to catch onto it."

"What do you know?" Lieu asked quietly.

"Nothing." Amon sighed. "I need to meditate and figure it out."

"You do that." Lieu grabbed his shoulder. "Take to a safehouse above street level. I'll deal with everything here, I'll come and get you immediately when they've cleared out."

"I'll figure out what to do from there." They paused, two men for a moment, and then Amon stretched out, took his Lieutenant's hand. Lieu squeezed it.

"Don't go all Avatar on me and don't come back."

"I'm just glad you don't hate that part of me."

"I could never hate you. Let's move." Amon let him go and they did so, the young man leaving off his mask and instead bundling himself in civilian clothes and a scarf, the Lieutenant heading off to deal with the Avatar and her team of sidekicks, to make sure there was as little collateral damage as possible and to keep them off their backs, while Amon made his way to street level and to the nearest safehouse, a good two blocks away (a shabby apartment) and got in, locked the door, lowered all the blinds, and sat down. Took deep breaths. Tried not to think about Lieu and his men.

And meditated.

For weeks he had been getting visions as he fell asleep—flashes of half-formed things. Things that were sort of bouncing off of him, and going flying toward Korra. Before now Amon had never thought about how close their connection was—but if he concentrated hard enough on what the Spirit World was telling him, what Aang wanted her to know, he might be able to find her. And Tarrlok with her.

Deep breaths. He thought about nothing—about his breathing, the beat of his own heart. The air, heavy and thick around him like a solid being, pressing in on him. Closed his eyes, opened his mind.

And it began. It started off as flashing images and then solidified, into Avatar Aang's face. And with him, Toph Beifong. Amon could feel himself being used as a signal wire, could feel Korra tapping through him, their connection strong enough, as it began to play like a picture show. Aang, Toph, and Yakone—Yakone, who looked startlingly similar to Tarrlok. The same eyes the same stance. Similar voices. And it all began to make sense.

The pieces fit together so surprisingly easily. Aang removed Yakone's Bending, with Energybending in the same style that Amon had learned from his Past Life, and that was it. That was the answer. Tarrlok was his son, it had to be that, that was what Aang had been trying to warn Korra of as the other half of his Avatar incarnation attacked him repeatedly, using Amon like a signal tower—

And then it hit him. Cold. Snow. Ice. A mountain, a path, a truck. A large metal box, screaming a woman's voice back at him.

A key turned in the lock. Amon jerked himself almost painfully out of the Spirit World by force of will alone, slid off the bed and barely caught himself, rolling to his feet. He could still feel it being sent to Korra, breaking more slowly to her without her connection to the Spirit World than it had to him, and he was already in fighting position when the door opened.

"They took the cops and went, they're heading back to city hall—Tenzin put two and two together, he knows Tarrlok has Korra." The Lieutenant slammed the door closed and tossed Amon his uniform, the adolescent practically ripping off his civilian clothes and sliding his mask back on.

"Tarrlok is Yakone's son."

"I—wait, what?" Lieu blinked, taken aback. "How did you—"

"Aang showed me, he's been using me to contact Korra through her limited connection to our past lives for months. He's a Bloodbender, and has her on top of one of the nearby mountains. If we hurry, we can get follow him to get there." Lieu still had on an expression that read in translation as weird Avatar stuff but he waited as Amon buttoned back on his coat, his blacks kept on beneath his civilian clothes, and tugged on his bracers, stepped into his boots, and threw up his hood. "Get the quickest team. We need to go—we have to beat Tarrlok back, because once he's there who knows what he will do."

"On it." The Lieutenant turned away and started moving, Amon following him, keeping his face hidden—the apartment building was mostly empty but for squatters and their safehouse, and it took less than twenty minutes to have a team of Equalists thrown together and piled into the back of a truck, Lieu driving and Amon in the passenger's seat, following his instincts and his other half, until they were halfway up one of the mountains.

Then Tarrlok led them right there. Directly to his hideout, Lieu driving far enough behind him while Amon threw up snow with Airbending shot out the window to hide them from Tarrlok's mirror (not like he was probably thinking clearly enough to do anything at the moment had he seen them, let alone look over his shoulder) and they waited around a bend until he vanished into the house before Lieu parked the truck and they moved in as a team.

Amon took point. It was almost silent in the house except for Korra and Tarrlok shouting at each other in the basement, and the Equalists moved without making any noise in their footsteps, Lieu to Amon's left and the rest behind them, standing at the top of the stairs. Surprise would be their element here.

Tarrlok was a Bloodbender. Yakone's son. He could to it at will. When it finally went silent downstairs except for Korra's banging, Amon narrowed his eyes, let out a slow breath. The Lieutenant felt him shift. Saw him clench his fists behind his back. There were footsteps up the creaky stairs, climbing toward them. The Lieutenant looked to his leader.

Amon's eyes were hard and determined. The footsteps got closer and Tarrlok's head was visible but he wasn't looking up, not until the final step did he—and then he froze like a deergazelle in the headlights of an oncoming Satomobile, shoulders tense.

"Amon!" He said, gasping.

"I do not appreciate being used as a scapegoat for your own heinous acts," Amon said, his voice cool and hard and determined. "It is time for you to be Equalised." He hadn't shared his plans for when they got there with the Lieutenant, but he clearly knew what he was doing. Lieu pulled his yantoks, the rest of their team pulled their slingshots, and Tarrlok took half a step back in surprise and alarm. But then his expression of terror shifted, and became a grin.

"You fool," he said, still smiling, raising his hands up in the air, clenching his fists. "You've never faced bending like mine." And then he jerked his hands. Lieu took half a step forward and then gasped a choking noise, the other three going straight down even as the Lieutenant struggled as hard as he could against the Bending, Amon's jaw squared, not flinching or shaking in the least, until his Lieutenant hit the floor, shaking, gasping for breath, fists clenched, his sticks dropped.

He was supposed to protect Amon. And now he couldn't. But the young man took a step forward, willing himself into movement, and Tarrlok slid back further toward the stairs as Amon kept walking without flinching, and then the Councilman jerked his hands and Amon ground to a halt, his knees locked, hands clenched into fists at his side.

He took another step forward, and the creak of his bones was loud in the air.

"You're not really the Avatar," Tarrlok whispered in terror, his voice shaking as Amon stopped again. He closed his eyes behind his mask, to hide the light as he felt the Avatar state overtake him, and opened them again, nothing but strength and resolve in his gaze.

"I am the solution," Amon replied, deadly serious, and took the last few steps, grabbed Tarrlok's arm, smacking the Chi points up it before he grabbed the man by the back of his neck, shoved him to the ground, and raised his thumb.

For a moment their gazes met. Amon's eyes flashed again, and then he pressed his thumb to the centre of the man's forehead, his eyes glowing bright as he used the power of Energybending, and then the older man screamed hoarsely and fell hard to the ground, unconscious, and Amon almost stumbled. Almost. He straightened, took a deep breath, and shook it off. Energybending was a contest of wills, and it was not easy to do. Lieu was the first one up, shaking off the pain in his muscles and his bones, looking to the younger man. Amon stared down at the unconscious form of Tarrlok and then knelt, tugged him over one shoulder.

"Electrocute the box the Avatar is in," he said quietly. "And don't underestimate her." He then stepped forward and added very quietly to his Lieutenant, "Just make sure she's not going to follow us." The Lieutenant nodded.

Tarrlok was dealt with. They would avoid Korra as much as possible until there was no other choice. They had done what they came to do. And that was all.

"That's the last one." The Lieutenant tossed the Earth Kingdom representative into the jail cell along with the other two they had captured from the council—they were gagged and bound, Amon had blocked their Chi but not fully removed their Bending, and all three of them were just starting to come to. Tenzin had escaped, and Tarrlok was elsewhere with a close eye kept on him. Brushing off his hands, the Lieutenant tugged off the gloves of the blue exterminator uniform and looked to the three Equalists keeping guard. "If they try anything, just give them light shocks." They nodded and he left, unbuttoning the collar of the coat.

Step one of the invasion plan was down. The council, minus Tenzin, had been captured and taken into custody. The police force was already falling, they had just gassed the building. Now the Lieutenant just had to get back in uniform and head straight to the island for the other half of the attack.

Returning to the room that was nominally his on the airship, he stepped inside and closed the door, plucking the hat from his head, and turned around.

Amon was sitting on his bed, with his uniform already set out. The Lieutenant paused, and then unbuttoned the coat, tossed it onto the bed next to the younger man, rolled his shoulders, his undershirt loosening, and raised one eyebrow as he unbuckled his belt and pushed off the blue exterminator pants, down to the blacks beneath them, and grabbed for the outer pants of his regular uniform. "Shouldn't you be out there leading?"

"In a minute." Was the response. Amon looked subdued. He watched from the slits of his mask while the Lieutenant changed, eyes lingering on the older man's muscles, the flex of his shoulders, the tensing of his thighs, as he slipped back into his usual clothes, strapped on the harness for his generator, and settled the familiar and heavy weight onto his back, shoved his feet into their boots, and jerked on both of his gloves.

Amon watched him and after a moment, stood up. He hesitated and then carefully checked Lieu over, like he was looking to make sure everything about him was working—ran careful fingers over his ribs, checked the bruising on his back from where he had hit the wall when Korra had Earthbent him, the muscles of his shoulders, and then just as the Lieutenant was about to slip on his mask, the younger man pushed up his own.

It was quiet as Amon held it one-handed, and stepped closer to reach up, hesitantly touch the older man's cheek. "Be careful out there."

"I will be."

"You know Korra is going to show up. She's knocked you off one too many high places."

"She's only knocked me off one high place."

"Just be careful." He hesitated. "You aren't as young as you used to be."

"I think that statement stopped applying to me just about when you were born." Well, soon after, anyway. The Lieutenant cupped Amon's cheek, pulled him closer, kissed him. The younger man made a quiet noise of acceptance and pulled him back and deeper, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. "I'll be careful though. And rest assured, I will come back mostly unharmed."

"Just don't get knocked off of any high things," Amon said it into the kiss, pulling the man closer and sliding both his arms over the Lieutenant's shoulders to grip the cloth of the back of his shirt. He had finally reached the end of his growth spurt (probably) and they stood at close to the same height, so kissing like this was significantly easier. Lieu put one hand on Amon's hip, tugged him closer, the other cupping the small of his back, and then, almost regretfully pulled away.

"We've got a war to win," he said, voice gruff. Amon reluctantly let him go.

"Go win it."

"Hey," The Lieutenant said, pained, from where he was trapped in a tree. Amon, standing on the ground, frowned and crossed his arms.

"I thought I told you not to get knocked off of any high things."

"I jumped at Korra's dog and got smacked over the edge of the cliff—there wasn't much I could do about it in mid-air." The Lieutenant smiled, but it was a strained look. "I improvised to land in the trees instead of crushing myself on the sand."

"I like this alternative better." Uncrossing his arms, Amon shot off a few quick, sharp air blasts that cut the branches holding up his Lieutenant and then threw up a quick pillow of air to catch him as he crashed to the ground. "How badly are you hurt?"

"Plenty of bruises, a few bad cuts and a lot of smaller ones, and some broken ribs. I think I might have sprained an ankle and dislocated my shoulder again too."

"I'll get you fixed up back at Headquarters." Amon gave the older man a hand up, held his wrist tight, and then paused and quickly ran a diagnostic check of his own, pressing careful fingers and palms over his Lieutenant's ribs, his shoulder, side, and then (assured that he really wasn't badly hurt in any way) wrapped careful arms around his torso and gave him a hug, turned his masked face into the side of his neck, and pulled back.

Lieu kissed the circle painted on his forehead, and then shifted his weight to his unsprained ankle as Amon bent over and walked to pick up both his kali sticks, one fallen nearly into the surf, the other laying in the mess of sticks and twigs and leaves that had been knocked free of the trees when Lieu had crash-landed, and handed them both to the older man, who stretched, wincing, to replace them in their holsters before he tested the weight on his ankle—not badly enough sprained to stop him from walking. His ribs were more worrying.

"What did I miss," the Lieutenant asked, falling into step beside Amon as the younger man stared back up the hill to the top of the island over rocky crags, the Lieutenant avoiding anything that could potentially cause him to twist his sprained ankle even further.

"Korra and her trio of sidekicks got away, as did the Airbender family." Amon folded his hands behind his back as he walked, still keeping an eye on Lieu. "I am glad. I can't refuse to take their Bending, not in the position I am in—and bringing children into the conflict will destroy any validity our revolution has. Lin Beifong was captured."

"Are you going to—" Lieu began, and the younger man looked back at him.

"No. Not permanently. I will block it, the way I have for everyone else so far that wasn't abusing their power—no Energybending. She will have full use of it back in about three months, but….if we don't, she and her other policemen will cause us too much trouble in the long run. I would like it if you stood with me while I did it but—"

"I'm fine," Lieu promised, dragging himself up the last bit of slope onto the island, taking shallow, careful breaths. "I've had worse before and I will again, it's just some broken ribs. Amon's expression, his eyes, remained calm, waiting to see where his Lieutenant was going with this. "I can get fixed up later. I want to be by your side."

"I need you by my side," was the response, and Amon took his Lieutenant's forearm, not in a brotherly clasp, but in a closer one, his hand sliding downward to clasp the older man's hand, turning to lace their fingers. "If you're certain."

"I am."

"Then let us reap the spoils of half a victory," was the response, smiling all the while.

"And now, my brothers and sisters, we will end this era of class divisions and usher in a new one—with strength of numbers there comes strength of unity. And our unity will allow us to change things for the better in the future." Amon clenched his fist, and the Lieutenant stared at his speech script. "The age of Bending-based oppression is over. Never again will anyone, man, woman, or child, be put down or hurt because of the Benders and their desperation for control. We will change this world." He smiled—his eyes did. "Together."

The Lieutenant watched him, and then nodded, grinning. "You've got it." Amon did a fistpump of success and then half-jumped before he calmed down again, letting go of his seventeen-ness and returning to the subdued adult he was finally starting to become. Lieu folded up the paper and set it aside on the younger man's desk before he laced his hands behind his neck and leaned into the younger man's office chair.

"I'll practice again tomorrow and run it a few more times before the rally." Normally Amon only ran the speeches until he had them memorised, but this time was particularly important. This was meant to be their crowning moment. They had better get it right. There were still two days left until the rally, though, and they were awaiting the arrival of the United Forces—it had already been three days since they had been contacted. "You think it's good?"

"The best you've ever written. You'll have them cheering in the streets before you're done." Amon hesitated, and then his eyes smiled again. He reached up and undid the knot holding his mask on and set it aside on the desk as well, leaned up against the edge of it, and folded his arms over his chest.

It was early—Amon had fallen asleep at his desk late the night before and woken two hours prior to now, around false dawn, clawing at his own face in his sleep and shaking, terrified, and gone to find his Lieutenant. The older man had been slightly harder to rouse but as soon as he heard the word nightmares he was up, holding Amon until the younger man calmed down, running fingers through his hair, whispering promises into his ears, until at last he was soothed back to normalcy. After that they had sparred for half an hour, and then Amon had worked on his speech—so they were still in their sleep clothes, the Lieutenant just with an undershirt over his normally sleep-bare chest, and Amon still in his blacks, socks on to keep his feet warm.

The waiting game was starting to get old.

"How are you feeling?" Lieu asked, watching the younger man's profile, mangled as it was. Amon shrugged.

"I'll be fine once the UF arrive. I want as few casualties as possible, even if they are soldiers going to war—military or civilian, killing people isn't going to do us any good in the long run." He rubbed at his chin and sighed, closed his eyes. "Even if we probably should aim to take them out as much as possible I…can't." He let his hand drop, and stared at them, resting just on top of his thighs. "Killing people isn't right. Killing makes us just as bad as the very thing we strive to destroy."

The Lieutenant didn't say anything—he agreed with Hiroshi that there was going to have to be some death in the long run, they had to take down the fleet and sink the ships into the harbour and they couldn't possibly save everyone from the boats as much as Amon wanted to try. It was his youth showing. And his foresight as well, surprising from someone his age as it had been two years before. There was no way they could come out of this without blood on their hands (why Lieu tried as much as possible to keep the dirty business to himself, and not get it anywhere near Amon) but the young man wanted to try. He was still young, still an idealist. Hiroshi had been an Equalist for ten years before Amon had come along, Lieu even longer. Their idealism had eventually turned to hardened hearts and absolute, unflagging devotion to the final goal, no matter what had to be done.

Amon had changed that about them both, but the cynicism still remained.

"And it will allow the United Forces and the Fire Lord, along with anybody else involved, to paint us as utter villains," Amon turned more toward his Lieutenant. "Which will be even worse. As long as we remain revolutionaries, the people all over the world will be on our side. We need that."

"We do." Lieu nodded. "We'll manage somehow." Amon's expression flickered into a smile as Lieu reached out, laced their fingers together, tugged the younger man closer. "That speech really is going to be something, though. You gave me goosebumps a few times and you aren't even in public yet."

"Really?" Amon was incredibly charismatic, a hell of a public speaker, but he was still seventeen. Still awkward. He was still so young—and so unsure of his own abilities.

"I think if anything will rally together the people of Republic City, that will." Amon shifted closer, their knees brushing together. "You're young and strong enough to get their attention and their support."

"I'm growing older every day," Amon pointed out, their eyes meeting and their gazes holding as he took a half-step closer, sliding one leg up to wedge himself in the chair above the Lieutenant, his other still on the ground, to balance him, as he placed one hand on the older man's shoulder. "My eighteenth birthday is soon."

"So it is. You've already won the whole of Republic City—I'm not sure what else I can give you." Lieu smiled, wrapped one hand around the younger man's waist and pulled him closer until Amon had both legs on the chair, balanced above his Lieutenant, his strong thighs allowing him to sit up and giving him a few inches on the older man, something new and unusual.

"I can think of something," was the quiet reply. Lieu raised his eyebrows as Amon slid nearer, setting both his hands on the older man's shoulders, Lieu's hands moving to wrap around his hipbones, warm palms atop them, fingers curling around the top of his backside, tugging him down until Amon was sitting in his lap, one hand sliding up to knot in the older man's hair, the other wrapped still around his shoulder. "I wouldn't mind getting it early."

Lieu just kept his eyebrows raised until they were kissing, Amon's hand in his hair pulling him closer, the older man's thumbs rubbing circles on his hipbones. It was utterly silent but breathtakingly loud, blood pumping in both their ears, Amon moving closer until their hips were pressed together and aligned, Lieu's hands sliding—finally—up underneath his shirt, warm palms on his leader's stomach, moving gently up his sides over his ribs (Amon refrained from doing the same because Lieu was still pretty carefully bandaged up to avoid his broken bones) and the pads of his thumbs brushing over Amon's nipples, grinding gently against them.

The broken noise the younger man made into the kiss was worth it, the curling of his fingers in Lieu's hair jerking him closer, and he shifted closer, breath catching, fingers shaking, when the man did it again, half-grinding against him, rutting his hips, suddenly burning hot. The third time the older man did it Amon broke the kiss, pressed their foreheads together, moaning quiet and aloud, swallowing shakily, dragging his Lieutenant closer until the man was kissing the slope of his neck, lips just below his ear, nipping at the tendons just below the skin, nosing down the high collar of his shirt to suck at the hollow of his throat, Amon rocking slowly against him, getting hard, nails dug into the back of the man's neck, and then Lieu pulled away with a slight sucking noise and smirked against the younger man's skin—there was a mark there that wouldn't be going away.

"Please," Amon whispered, hoarse, fingers shaking. He didn't even know how to ask for what he wanted—he couldn't lead here, he was too young, too inexperienced, and that complete lack of knowledge left Amon feeling both out of his depth and exhilaratingly alive. Lieu kissed the underside of his jaw, the fold where it met his throat, and continued to smile.

Fortunately, Amon had someone very confident to show him what to do.

"I think maybe—"

Someone pounded hard on the office door. Amon jerked suddenly away, pushing his Lieutenant's hands out from under his shirt, sliding to his feet, brushing down his shirt, and scrambling to shove his mask back on, holding it there before he could tie it up. Lieu blinked, still trying to figure out was going on, and quickly flattened his hair before the knock came again loud and the door was thrown open.

The Equalist standing there was windblown—he had to have just come off patrol. He smelled like the ocean.

"The United Forces are arriving," he said, gasping for breath. Amon's chin rose, and he reached up, brushed up his collar until it was at the top of his throat again. "Hiroshi is taking off the planes—he needs you to give orders."

"I'm coming." Amon turned back toward his Lieutenant, who was already standing. "Make sure everything is under control." There was a look in his eyes that read give me a few minutes and Lieu clasped his upper arm for a moment, his fingers lingered there just a few seconds too long, and he left the room, door closing behind him.

Amon held onto his mask a moment longer before he lowered it to the desk, turned around the edge of it, and banged his head against the wall, teeth grit, and used a few of the very colourful curse words he had picked up from the older man.

He had been that close too.

"That's a lie, Amon." The voice rang out loud in the middle of the rally and Amon paused, lowered his hand, and looked up at the balcony that the voice had come from, just in time for Korra to tear off the mask of the stolen uniform she was wearing.

"Do you want me to—" the Lieutenant began, eyes narrowing behind his goggles, but Amon gave him the slightest, almost unnoticeable shake of his head.

"No. Let her talk." Korra stared at them, almost like she was waiting for the go ahead, and then began.

"Tarrlok told me everything." Korra turned to the gathered crowds. "He's been lying to you all along. He's a Bender, an Airbender. He kept it a secret from you so that nobody would question it." Amon stared at her, and then snorted aloud. It was a bit uncharacteristic, but he was still seventeen, and he shook his head.

"Avatar Korra, had you done your research, you would have known that I was an Airbender. I have never tried to hide it. Every man and woman on this stage knows I am an Airbender. All the Equalists not on this stage know that as well."

"Yeah, well, how come I've never seen you use it?"

"Because Bending is an unfair advantage," Amon said quietly, "And should not be used so lightly as to be a toy, or a game. It isn't a gift, it's a curse. We use it as a way to differentiate class, when it should only be used to better the world. Wasting it like a sport is only cheapening the power it has. The power to change the tides or drown a family or break a fleet of ships or to end a drought. The power to destroy a farmer's fields," Lieu tensed beside him a that one— "Or to build roads and canals and houses. To stop a tornado or turn around weather to bring the wind and the rain. The power to stop a volcano from exploding or the power to kill someone's family, to scar them for life. It is abused, turned against women and children—just like it was used against me, when I was fifteen and a group of Triad Benders attacked me in a back alley, just because they wanted some sport."

"That's a lie too," Korra snapped, leaning further over the railing. "Your face isn't burned off. You made that up, a sob story to get more support." Lieu's eyes narrowed. Amon's fists clenched, but he let out a slow breath, schooling his emotions.

"Very well, Avatar. I will show you the truth." He hesitated for a moment and then reached up. Lieu half-started forward, but Amon ignored him, brushed back his hood, and his dark hair was visible. He untied the clasp of his mask, and gripped it in his hand.

Nobody but the Equalist nurses, a few of the people that had come in at the same time he had, Hiroshi, and Lieu had seen him without the mask. It was the first time he had ever taken it off in public since he had gotten it. Two years he had been scarred for life. Two years that he had been cursed, something that would last until the day he died.

For a moment his hand shook in fear, at the coming pity he would receive, and then he pulled off his mask and looked up. The resulting gasp shocked the stadium into silence. His eyes were clear, his shoulders unshaking, but his hands were clenched tight, and he looked up at Korra. "This," he said quietly. "This was what they did to me."

His ears were two scarred, melted, nubs of flesh, one with the shell and lobe still intact. His hairline was pushed back most of the way up his head, giving him an almost Airbender-high forehead. His eyes were sunken deep in two blackened sockets, his nose twisted and drooping, his cheekbones standing out stark and blackened, his lips gnarled and twisted, his bottom lip turned out on the left side, more solid on the right, his upper turned in and revealing most of his gums.

"Avatar, we have ended crime in this city. People are now able to walk safely at night and not fear for their lives. Children are no longer terrified of Benders. And by the grace of the Spirits, never again will a fifteen year old be found in a backstreet and disfigured for life for fun."

Korra looked stricken. Amon set his mask back on his face, tied it up once again. "Avatar, if I could take my own Bending I would. I hate being part of something that has caused every war, every conflict, every destruction in history. The powers that leave women and children dead. Killed families and used for raw displays of power. The Spirits blessed me to bring balance to this world, the way that you clearly are not." The audience was silent.

"You cannot call yourself the Avatar if when faced with a conflict of such dire proportions you turn away and hide and call us the delusional ones. Perhaps it's time someone else did your job." Korra was shaking, her skin oddly pale, her fists clenched at her side. "You use your powers only for Bending, and that is not what the position of the Avatar is. You are supposed to balance, and instead of balance you have widened the gulf even further. You have attacked us," he gestured to the Equalists behind him, "You would accuse us of destroying the lives of people when we have only permanently taken the Bending from people who would harm Non-Benders, people like Lightning Bolt Zolt and Councilman Tarrlok—who I may point out, you believed, even after he kidnapped you, Bloodbent you. And that's not even the tip of the iceberg of what you've done since you came here." He raised one hand, started counting on his fingers. "You threw my Lieutenant off the roof of the Arena, and had he not carefully landed in the water, you could very easily have killed him. You didn't even think about his life, tossed it away like it was a rag you had used to clean your shoes. In your different clashes with my Equalists in this past week alone, for example when you rescued Councilman Tenzin, you killed four people. They were in those mecha tanks you destroyed. You killed twelve over the past months, destroying their cars. I could tell you their names. Yui, who liked hot pot. Haldo, who was about to get married. Sana, who was pregnant when you blew up her plane during the arrival of the United Forces. Utakal, with a two week old son. You killed them."

Korra looked like she was about to cry. Amon lowered his other hand, folded his arms behind his back, and sighed quietly. Lieu could see the way he sagged for a moment—he had heard the emotion in his words, raw and angry and surprisingly seventeen. He had been so composed up until he named the people that had died.

They had buried every one of them.

"You are not fit to be half the avatar that Aang was," Amon finally said, voice cool and composed again, the emotion gone, just cold disgust for the girl he spoke to. Lieu half-snorted, but a moment later Korra erupted—quite literally with a shriek of incandescent rage and a blast of flame from her mouth and flung herself over the railing, holding herself to the wall with fire.

"Get everyone out!" Amon shouted, suddenly no longer the cool and controlled leader, and Lieu turned away, gesturing to the six on stage to start moving, exits opening as people ran out, shouting and screaming, and he was about to turn back to Amon when there was a crack of thunder and half the stage blew up.

Jumping back, smoke filling the air, Lieu was about to shout for his leader when Amon came rolling out of the smoke, falling into position beside him, and he relaxed slightly. Grabbed his kali sticks, drew them, and flicked them on, electricity racing down the sticks and crackling even as both the Avatar and her (tagalong? boyfriend?) came racing out, fire blazing. Korra shot a long ring of fire and Amon flipped sideways over it, Lieu just jumping straight up to land on the other side, but the one other remaining Equalist not clearing out the crowd got hit and went flying even as Lieu hit the ground and rolled forward, running straight at the Avatar's sidekick with his sticks crackling, throwing three jabs and ducking a flare of flame, catching the boy on one leg and getting him distracted long enough to knock out both his arms with four quick jabs, his sticks flicked off to do it, only for the young man to start firing from his foot.

"Shut up!" Korra was screaming in the background, Lieu ignoring her, as she fired at Amon with blasts of flame that made the air crackle with their heat. She wasn't even going for strategy, just fighting with her anger, just kept throwing punches, Amon dodging easily, using her own lack of finesse and her own desperation against her. "Why don't you use your own Bending! Come on, Airbend me! Prove to me how you could be a better Avatar than I am!"

"No," Amon said calmly, and then Lieu used Korra's distraction against her to run behind her, and jabbed up her back.

She stumbled, gasping, and tried to firebend at the Lieutenant, who just sidestepped the swing. She tried again, screaming, and then Mako grabbed her by the back of her uniform.

"Let's go!" He shouted, and dragged her back behind the stage, kicking a blazing opening through the poster there, and Amon and his Lieutenant pivoted at the same time, running in the same form, teacher and student turned to leader and lieutenant but always equals, Amon jumping straight through the ripped hole and the fire, blowing just enough out of his way that when Lieu followed him there was no heat licking at his skin, and they both landed on the other side, racing into the hallways after the Avatar and her boyfriend, another wall of fire in their way but Amon blasted it out and they ran through.

Korra and Mako were halfway down one of the halls, panting, and Amon and the Lieutenant skidded to a halt, frozen beside one another. Lieu clenched his hands around his kali sticks. Amon remained very still. The two teenagers turned to stare at them, Korra looking until she held Amon's gaze.

"What about all the people you killed?" Korra shouted, shaking. "What about the United Forces soldiers that were floating dead in the water?"

"Avatar, there were thirty dead from that attack. Each and every one was given a full military burial with honours. There were plenty wounded, and every one was fished from the water, given medical treatment however minor or severe, and those too terribly injured to be held in jail cells have been kept in the infirmary. None have had their bending removed, just Chiblocked, like every cop was, and Lin Beifong was—it will wear off in about three months."

"Lin was only protecting Tenzin and his kids, why would you—"

"Because the airship that she blew up had one hundred people on it. We only were able to recover ten survivors."

"You've killed plenty more—"

"Avatar, it has always been the prerogative of the Equalists to never kill unless by accident or by absolute necessity. There are more peaceful answers than that. We Chiblock and in dire cases remove Bending, nothing more."

"That's just as bad as death!" Korra shouted, and her voice broke. Everyone was silent, and when Amon slowly spoke, voice cool but the Lieutenant could hear his anger simmering just below the surface,

"You truly think that of such as Asami Sato? The thousands of people who don't have any Bending? The many humans that you're supposed to help, to balance?"

"I—No—" Korra looked shaken. "I don't think that—"

"You just said that. You're not nearly ready for the weight of being the Avatar."

"Then who is?" Korra shouted back. "Are you going to say you are?"

The Lieutenant looked to his leader. Amon's fists clenched. His blue-grey eyes narrowed—there was purpose there. Purpose and solid resolve, determination. Lieu took in a slow breath, and all three of them stared at Amon, waiting for him to speak.

"Yes." He finally said. "I think I am."

Korra stared at him, her blue eyes wide.

"You're just an Airbender," she whispered, voice shaking. "And I'm not even sure how you're that. I am the Avatar—the Spirits chose me!"

"Then why can't you Airbend," Amon shot back, and Korra screamed back hoarsely,

"I'm learning!"

"You can't learn." He said, quietly. "You were born on the fourth full moon of the month of the Harp Seal seventeen years ago, at twenty minutes past dawn." The Avatar stared at him, her mouth half open. "So was I."

"You're not seventeen," she said, gasping. "You're like—twenty-something."

"We were born at the exact same moment," Amon said quietly. "The reason that you can't Airbend is that I can."

"That's stupid," Korra shouted back. "Not possible!"

"Amon," the Lieutenant began, but the young man ignored him.

"Fine," he said, cooly. "Fine." And then he let out a slow breath.

Lieu saw his eyes close behind his mask, and then they opened again, flashing white, and he turned, blasting two shots of air that rushed down either end of the hallway, shattered both windows. Korra was staring at him, shaking, looking like she was about to throw up, and Amon turned toward her, caught her eye.

Just in time for her to tug a whole wave of water in through the window, sending it crashing over her and her sidekick's heads, swallowing them and the wave still rushing forward, trapped in the hall. The Lieutenant and Amon moved at once, Lieu jumping on top of the younger man and tossing him to the ground, taking the brunt of the wave hard on his back and protecting his leader, grunting in pain at the weight and pressure on his broken ribs, both of them holding their breath until the worst of the wave had stopped and Lieu stood, dragging the younger man up, holding his hand loosely and looking around. Korra and her Firebender were gone. The water in the corridor was up to their shins and Amon let out a slow, shaking breath. He leaned forward and sort of slumped into the Lieutenant's arms, leaned against his shoulder and held his hand tight.

"You all right?" Lieu asked quietly. "We need to get going. Hiroshi probably took out the second UF fleet already—we need to deal with the captured fighters." Amon nodded.

"Let's go."

They would figure out the Avatar thing later, but Lieu had faith—faith in Amon, who had faith in himself. He had accepted he was the Avatar. Now he just needed to do his job. And figure out what to do with Korra.

It was dark, and very late. They had finally sequestered all of their new prisoners, sent those that needed healing to get it done, and dealt with the aftermath of the failed final rally, and the airbase. The Avatar's boyfriend's brother, Hiroshi's daughter, and the Fire Lord's son were all captured there, along with Commander Bumi of the other fleet. Which meant rather a lot of cell shuffling and Chiblocking to make sure that they put everybody on careful watch, and father and son very far from each other, Iroh and Bumi in two entirely different areas of the jails.

When Amon finally blocked the last of their prisoners he was looking more than a little bit worn, and moved with the slow lethargy of someone who had been awake for too damn long, the teenage energy wearing off and leading to the teenage crash, and the Lieutenant finally turned the young man away just as he went toward his bedroom.

"Come on," Lieu said quietly, tugging the younger man closer and away from the direction of his own bedroom. "With me."

"But—" Amon began, and then yawned behind his mask and continued walking after Lieu, into his smaller room, the door shut and locked, and Amon watched him with calm eyes. They were too tired—his bones ached, and he was in turmoil inside. Now did not seem like the best time for this.

"You were strong today," the Lieutenant said, stripping down to his uniform pants and going digging in the laundry for his sleep pants, coming up victorious and shedding one pair before pulling on the other, Amon changing mechanically, his uniform coat bundled up and dumped in the older man's dirty clothes, his bracers tossed on the desk and his boots left by the door, down to just the plain, breathable blacks he wore beneath, and Lieu tugged him close. "Stronger than I've ever seen you. You're not a little kid anymore."

"Thanks," Amon drily replied, although his usual teenage ire was missing more because he was just tired than any other reason.

"It's true." Lieu held one of the younger man's hands in his own, pushing back the sheets and sliding into his bed, pulling Amon after him, and the adolescent practically fell onto the mattress, groaning in exhaustion, only to be wrapped in warm arms and held tight to a broad chest, a chin pressed into the top of his head. "You looked her dead in the eye and told her the truth."

"Now I just have to deal with the aftermath," Amon sighed quietly. "She's probably on her way to the South Pole now, or trying to get in contact with someone. There will most likely be a meeting and then we'll actually have to sit down and talk it out. People will be angry—and confused. Everyone will be."

"You need to work through this. That's a part of the whole Avatar thing, right? You need to face your fears and the obstacles to grow to be fully realised." Although neither Amon or Korra would ever be fully realised. They couldn't—not in the situation they were in. Lieu sighed into Amon's hair, rubbed his thumbs on the younger man's back. They had been growing closer—hands held, hugs that were more than a little bit friendly, kissing where nobody else could see, one proprietary hand set on Amon's waist, or his shoulder, or his elbow. The night before the attack on the city Amon had fallen asleep in his lap at his desk, napping on his shoulder, mumbling quietly in his sleep but getting more rest than he would have on his own. The two times that they had gone any further they had been interrupted, and that was probably for the best. But this….Amon had faced himself, his destiny. His other half and stared her in the eyes. And if there was any night to share a bed, it was going to be tonight. "And we need to draw up our terms."

"We should send them out by the end of the week," Amon mumbled against his collarbone, shifting to get more comfortable on the bed built for one, drummed his fingers on Lieu's shoulderblade. "They will acquiesce, at least to the immediate three. We have the Fire Lord's husband and son—she's going to compromise." Lieu smiled. Amon was no doubt right. They wouldn't hurt either Bumi or Iroh, but they were leverage. And their demands were simple, really—one, a Non-Bending representative needed to head the council, and they had to be elected by the city. Two, the class divide and all laws making it all-but-legal needed to be struck down by the government, and three, all Triads and all Bending related violence had to become prerogative number one in the city for justice. After that they had more demands, but those were the big three. Later came things like equal work opportunities for all, a destruction of the city living system that favoured Benders, and more. But the big three first. The Equalists were a force to be reckoned with now, lead by a seventeen year old half-Avatar, who was desperately trying to get into his Lieutenant's pants and so far had been cut off at every opportunity.

"We need to get some sleep before we do that, though." Lieu whispered into his hair, and Amon slid closer, buried his face in the older man's collarbone, and mumbled a single quiet statement. Three words. Lieu returned it, felt the younger man smile, and they fell asleep like that, wrapped tight in his bed, and in each other