He remembered phasing in and out of waking and the dreamless abyss. He felt fatigue. He heard Asami's distant sobs before she was taken away by the healers that Iroh had brought in. He remembered an old woman, a healer from the Swamp looking after him and giving him some herbs to calm his nerves. He wasn't injured but he was in shock.
They all were.
The brothers had been in a critical condition but from piecing together what the aged healer had told him in his moments of waking, they all worked tirelessly to keep them alive. Korra even assisted them, but considering what she'd been through, she should have stayed in bed, should have rested.
"You can't tell me what to do. These are my friends, I have to help them. Deal with it."
He had to smile at that, he had to smile at her determination but it was pitiful. She'd been the one to endanger them in the first place, bringing them to the swamp. He was glad that Asami was left unharmed but there was a pattern.
Zhenli She went after benders. And no, it didn't stop there. Amon must have gotten the idea with of the mask from somewhere and this three-eyed serpent was clearly it.
Tarrlok rubbed his face tiredly, staring at the light reflected off the swamp water that danced on the ceiling of his hut. He was left here, and it's been a day now. Again, he wasn't the main complication that they had. The Avatar's wellbeing and sanity was perhaps the biggest issue, along with Amon's capture. Bolin and Mako's health was also of note.
Normally, he'd be content staying in bed until he felt better but that was a luxury he couldn't afford anymore. He also knew that Amon, that Noatak, was in the room across the hallway. That Korra was in there as well because he can hear them talking, in hushed voices like equals and not enemies. Sighing, Tarrlok got up and pushed the hair out of his eyes before padding across the creaky hallway, feeling the ancient timber dusting his bare feet. He looked out from his doorway to see the Avatar and Amon watching him wearily, with Korra seated at the foot of his brother's bed.
Honest to the spirits, it was odd seeing two of his former enemies adopt something akin to an alliance.
"Hey Tarrlok, how're you feeling?" Korra asked him as she waved him over to the room. He took a rickety chair from the far end of the room and set it next to the bed, facing them. "Not hungry or anything?"
"Other than my feeling as though I have buzzard-wasps flying around in my head I feel perfectly fine," he deadpanned. His brother didn't even take the effort to hide the smile that played at his lips, something Tarrlok didn't realise he'd missed. Korra gave a small laugh before turning back to the bed-ridden revolutionary.
"I was telling Amon here—"
"Noatak," Amon cut off. He seemed to breathe his name out heavily. "Please, Avatar, just call me Noatak."
"Er, sorry. I was telling Noatak what Iroh told me a few hours ago, about leaving for Republic City since he's already been apprehended."
"He does know that we can't do that, doesn't he?" Tarrlok asked, leaning forward and cracking his weary fingers. "That thing won't stop with you and me, Noatak. It will come after you and your friends, Korra. You have to know this."
Noatak nodded, tiredly. The cold older brother who Tarrlok grew up with was gone. It was clear now. Why bother being cold or detached as he once was? His revolution was dead, his followers thought that he had abandoned them and his younger brother was right here, saying his name like a wish on his lips. His distance turned into fatigue. "I am willing to own up to my crimes, Avatar. Provided the serpent doesn't kill us all first."
The silence blanketed them but somehow Tarrlok was pleased. It was good that they can sit in silence, being the first step to trusting each other. Korra spared no accusing glances at his older brother, only a sort of curiosity that refused to be hidden from her fatigue. She knew of their history and she was bound to ask sooner or later.
"Can I ask you something, brother?" Tarrlok began, forcing both sets of Water Tribe eyes on him. "How was it that you came to this place when you were meant to be at the Victory Rally at Republic City?"
"It was the serpent that saw to me on the airship when we left from Air Temple Island," Noatak huffed, as though recalling the memory itself was taking its toll on him. "Came to me in the form of a man, the likes of the Painted Lady from the Fire Nation."
Tarrlok saw the Avatar nod in understanding, perhaps the knowledge from Master Katara's tales resurfaced in her mind but he wouldn't know really. How Tarrlok knew of the Painted Lady was from their mother's bedtime stories. He remembered how when their father was away on a weekly fishing hunt before the bloodbending, their mother would settle herself between them, a warm wolf's pelt blanket covering them and tell them tales of the World itself. Their mother knew more about Spirits and folklore than one would expect but it seemed that she never did see the truth of their father.
Perhaps she chose not to.
"The spirit spoke to me, spoke like me, spoke like Yakone. It spoke as though it embodied my greatest fears." His brother's weary tone raised itself to an erratic ramble, something so very unlike Amon or Noatak from the past. Tarrlok found himself clenching his fists on his lap as he listened to his brother's very clear change from his altercation with the serpent. Korra glanced at him in pity before turning back to that fallen revolutionary. "And it spoke like you as well, Brother. Only I could see it. My brethren, my men on the ship were frozen in time while the serpent paced around me.
"'The spirits know what you are, Noatak,' it hissed at me. 'They have reached a verdict, and you will never be pardoned from your crimes. Even Ozai has done more forgivable crimes than you.'" Noatak continued, his voice imitating the merciless drawl the snake possessed. "'I am your executioner, Bender. And unless you wish your men on this ship to die for your crimes, then I suggest you take my arm and we shall begin your sentence in a more fitting environment.'"
As they sat in silence, Tarrlok found himself looking at this stranger. This was not his brother anymore, gone was that child in the snowstorm twenty-six years ago. Yet even this was not Amon, the revolutionary, the man who took his bending easily and many others along with it. However long he'd spent running from the spirit in the swamp, his mind had gone away from him, leaving his body feeble and full of regret, something Tarrlok could clearly see. Needless to say, he didn't know how to feel about the gaunt-faced man who shared his and Yakone's features. Though he was unsure if Korra could see what he saw.
"So you went?" he found himself asking flatly.
"I did, I couldn't endanger them, not when we've come so far, not when we could almost taste the new order on our lips." Noatak answered heavily, turning to stare at him with hollow eyes. His voice began to take that old tone of the most feared man of the Republic. "I believed that they would be able to do everything without me, even though I had so much planned. Republic City would be cleansed first, then the world but unfortunately, my time ran out. My judges came and they've reached a verdict, as the snake said."
"You think the world was going to fall to you just like that?" Korra asked the man in disgust.
"The Republic didn't pose much of a challenge, Avatar. You didn't pose much of a threat-" Korra moved to jump him but Tarrlok grasped her arm instead. "I've raised my men to function without me. The energybending was merely an incentive, a threat, for any who opposed us. But judging by your presence in this swamp, I'm guessing my people have faltered?"
"The Equalists are gone, your Lieutenant's in prison and we've reached a compromise," Tarrlok breathed. Noatak's eyes were on him for a moment, blank and unreadable before flickering to the light that danced on the ceiling.
"I guessed as much. But you, brother? Last I checked you were as much of a criminal as I was."
It seemed that nothing further getting out of his brother, judging by the even breathing and the distance in the man's eyes. He was looking through them, as though they weren't with him in the room. Tarrlok sighed and moved from the bed, leaving the chair and fading atmosphere of the room behind.
He felt Korra's tug of his sleeve and found himself facing her expression that read 'can-I-talk-to-you-outside?'
As they left the room and quietly closed the door behind themselves, Tarrlok found himself really staring at the Avatar, taking her in after the battle. There were no bruises but the darkness of the circles underneath her eyes made up for it. Her hair that she kept into three ponytails was free and down in a tangled and clumpy mess.
It was as though she hadn't slept for years. But then again, he knew that the others were the same. Asami would not sleep for fear of the serpent that would ensnare her in her nightmares. The brothers however have no choice, being induced by narcotics to maximise their recuperation. That he knew as much.
Korra settled herself on the dark dusty corridor with her elbows on her knees and her hands on her face.
"Man, it's freaky talking to him like that," she exhaled, brushing her shaky hands through her matted hair. "If I'm not scared of him taking my bending away then I'm scared of him making me feel like nothing just by listening to him talk."
"I guess I'm living the nightmare then," he mumbled and the horrified look on Korra's face made him wish that he hadn't said anything at all. Before she could sputter her profuse apologies at him, he waved away the idea and moved to braid what hair of hers was within reach, the way his mother taught him all those years ago. She sighed and took some of her own in clumps.
It was calming with just the two of them like this, in this comfortable silence. Never did he think in the past that he'd be able to get attached to her on this level. Not after her leaving that Task Force, not after city hall, not after the hostage, not after everything.
Perhaps she'd grown into her Avatar roots through this gradual process of forgiveness.
"Do you think he'll be okay?" Korra asked him, shifting her head slightly so she could glance at him. "Amon- er, Noatak. Is he going to be all right?"
"You tell me, Korra. After all, you were the one who's been having visions about his situation be before our arrival and his rescue."
"Yeah, but you know him-"
"I think a man can change after twenty-six years, Avatar," he snapped.
"I wouldn't know anything about it, Gramps," she sneered. No, they are not having this argument. No matter how trivial and about-his-age it was.
"We're not going to talk about this, Korra," he grit out. "Thirty-seven is not old-"
"Then tell me! Do you think he'll be all right?" She'd finally spun around to face him. Her lips had thinned to a line and her eyes were clouded with fatigue and fear and sadness for anything and everything that happened over the past few days. She needed to sleep, that much was clear.
He stood up and took her by the arm, gently, much to her feeble protests. When his bare feet made contact with the damp, mossy swamp ground, he could have sworn that they sung. They padded through the stilted town towards where Korra and Asami were staying, not far from the ship or his hut.
"You need to go to bed, Korra." He felt like Tenzin talking like this but he knew better. The last thing the world needed was a sleep deprived Avatar. "I promise we'll talk more when both of us make sense in the morning."
"Okay, okay, fine-" She waved him off as they walked up the meagre porch of gritty bamboo and mangrove. She was annoyed but she was also tired. There wouldn't be any argument from her anytime soon and Tarrlok could only express his relief. "Just answer me one thing, just one question. Yes or no, Tarrlok."
"What is it?"
"Do you believe that Noatak will get better?"
Silence, for he remained silent. Silence meant that he believed otherwise, silence meant that he believed the worst. That he was being a pessimist, a cynic. That he'd already lost hope when it came to Noatak. The gleam in Korra's eyes began to fade and as did the optimism. But no, there needed to be a balance with this, if Korra, if the Avatar turned cynical, who knew how quickly the world would follow?
"Yes, he will. I'll make sure of it, Korra."
The exhale of relief and restored optimism and sleep was all he needed.
A/N: Hello! Sorry for the three month hiatus but I'm back now. Hopefully with the time on my hands I can cover and finish this story before the next season comes out. Fingers crossed. Anyway, we're halfway through the plot, and we finally find out what exactly happened to Amon and the spirit in this chapter. Thanks to Jen for the recent reviews on various chapters, haha. Thanks to the recent favorites and follows and again, happy reading.