Okay so when I said I wouldn't change events to fit the finale I underestimated my streak of perfectionism. It's small, but it pops up every so often and won't leave me alone. Funnily enough—THANK GOD—I don't think anything contradicts the show in earlier chapters. Please let me know if it does, I would be grateful! I kind of like my original theory better (it's neater and means that Korra achieves on her own) but you do not have to agree—it's up on tumblr if you'd like to read my original version.

SEVEN

Korra snapped out of sleep as the door opened to see the familiar figure of Amon in the frame. "Good afternoon," he said, nearly politely, as the door slammed ominously. She licked her lips, her mouth very dry. No food had come for a very long time. No drinks had come either, and her head was swimming.

"Afternoon," she said. If he was playing the courteous role, then she knew this routine. It was how their lunches went, when he liked to pretend that they were seriously married for whatever twisted reason. However stressful this dance around the truth was, it was better than when he well and truly lost it.

"Have you had some time to think?" he inquired, standing in the middle of the room. He wasn't even doing anything and his presence filled the room to the point of being stifling.

"Yes," she replied quietly, fiddling with her clothes. They were a good bit dirtier and nastier since she'd put them on. They were probably irredeemable. Not that she cared about clothes, anyway…

"Good," he said, and then he just stood there, looking at her. Her skin prickled with the tension. The long silence was broken far after it had become uncomfortable. "Do you hate me so much?" he asked, merely sounding curious. "Enough to risk the lives of your loved ones?" Asami said he couldn't hurt them, she chanted to herself. He's trying to scare you. Don't give in. Act. "I suppose you doc." He was being obscenely casual, and it was hurting her chest. "But I've said multiple times now that I could be good to you. Is that not enough? What were you going to get that was better? A life of drudgery, fighting over petty squabbles about other people's problems, chasing after that boy like some shameless…" He seemed genuinely unhinged this time in a way that he hadn't before—the times that had come before, she'd been sure that it was the desire to hurt that drove him, the need and want to lash out and hurt coupled with an unhealthy fixation on her. But this time he seemed… injured. Hurt. And far more dangerous because of it. There was no vulnerability in his stance or in his tone, but the power he usually exuded had deflated somewhat.

"Would you like to know who I am?" She looked up, startled, and he removed the mask, placing it on the bed. "I'm not burned. I know you've wondered. Why? Why lie? It allows me to be faceless to my enemies, of course. That has been undeniably helpful. It also means that I am only a figurehead of a movement. If I were to die, someone else could pick up my skin and carry on my legacy." Korra stared. Did he really mean skin? If it had been anyone else, she would have probably said no, but that all too intense expression on his face added a creepier dimension to it. "I come from nothing. I was nothing. When I walked amongst these people faceless, raw, I saw it all…. I saw the benders' dominion over the non-benders. It only confirmed what I already knew. I saw the poverty in the slums and the Triads pulling the life from everything. When I became somebody, I knew what I had to do. I learned. I took nothing on from spirits, fickle creatures. I spun a pretty story for the masses. I gave up earthly pleasures to further my plan and dedicated my life to ridding the world of the benders.

"I saved this city," he said, gazing at his hands, eyes slightly too wide. "I saved all the people in this city." He looked up at her, anger beginning to kindle in his expression. "I rescued them from the bending oppressors. Why do they hide these tyrants?"

"Because they're not tyrants," Korra snapped before she could think about what she was saying, sitting up rigidly. "They're mothers, and fathers, and sisters and nephews and friends and children and grandparents. You can't take bending away from people. Sure, the Triads are evil. Why don't you fight the Triads, then, instead of ordinary people? It's not the bending that's bad; it's the people who use it! You can't just fight everyone for what some people have done, it's not right!"

He slammed a fist right beside her head against the wall hard enough to make a sickening noise of impact. She nearly screamed with surprise, tense and rigid and furious. "Be quiet," he said in a tone that was very, very dangerous, and she obeyed, expression mutinous. "The very existence of bending is a danger," he hissed, far too close to her face. "It's too much power for any person, too open to corruption." He leaned away, groaning, and she saw that his hand was bloody and grated from the rough surface of the wall. It must hurt viciously, and yet he was shrugging it off as if it was nothing. He had shot right past unstable into terrifyingly unhinged, and she was locked in a room with him. It was best to shut up and not let her temper take over, so that there was a later for her temper to take over in. "No human being should wield that power.

"All benders are a sickness on this land. Look at what they've done. Centuries of oppression—the famous Phoenix King, the council, you yourself… I cleansed this place of that sickness and do the people thank me? They rise against me… they rise against their rightful ruler. And you," he said, looking at her in that way that made her want to crawl away and never come out again, "you. You crept inside my head, and now you won't get out. I think about you at utterly inappropriate times. How you feel, how you cry, how you look at me. I can be good to you, but even when threatened with the lives of your friends you refuse to behave."

Korra sat there grimly. For once, the fear wasn't climbing up her insides. She felt angry. This was the man who'd led the revolution. He was so immensely powerful and well-spoken in public, and this was what the inside of his head was like. He had spearheaded a revolution and so he must be brilliant. To mastermind the takeover an entire city required immense wit and intelligence, channelled through this twisted form. She knew that he was clever, having experienced the attack on the pro-bending arena itself, and that attack in the night, ugh, that attack in the night. How was he this twisted inside?

"I won't harm your friends if you just behave," he said, and her gaze flickered. Was this his way of getting out of the called bluff? "It would pain me to have you locked up. Why can't you come to have, at the very least, a tolerance for me?" He seemed to genuinely expect an answer, looking at her intensely, and she struggled for a moment with something to say.

"Because you hurt me," she said, croaking hoarsely, tensing as she waited for his reply.

He swung in without warning, inches from her face, placing his hands either side of her head again. "I don't have to," he said, "if you don't provoke me. Why don't you understand that if you simply behaved, I wouldn't have to hurt you?" He kissed her again, forceful and brutal. His hands tangled in her hair hungrily, his lips moving across hers as if searching for something. After a moment of her sitting there stonily, he withdrew. "Am I that repulsive to you?" he asked. She didn't reply, starting ahead. Her heartbeat was racing at a speed that seemed unnaturally fast, but she was going to let him see that she was afraid.

He made a guttural groan-growl, and picked the mask back up. "You can remain here for the time being, then," he said. "Perhaps solitary confinement without food will adjust your priorities."

Korra slept, and dreamed. She dreamed that her mother stroked her hair gently and held her in her lap as if she was a small child again. She dreamed of Master Katara, showing her a beautiful waterbending move. She dreamed of disjointed images from her waking life—Amon drifted in and out of them, but food featured more often than not. Her family, her friends, her adopted family joined her. One moment she was in a place that she knew to be Ba Sing Se, the next she was down in the lowest parts of Republic City.

She awoke at last to the door opening again and someone who must be Asami emerging through it, cloaked as she had been last time. Her luxuriant hair was tucked up right underneath the hood, not a strand escaping, and even her usual make-up wasn't applied. She was no less pretty, but… different somehow. Korra supposed that was the point. "Amon's getting careless," Asami murmured, holding out a still steaming meat bun. "Eat slowly," she added sternly, "I know you haven't had anything to eat in days. You can't be sick. Take it slow. He's really getting careless. There aren't even any guards posted… I suppose to him, there's no way that you could get out, but still, it's good for us." She sat with Korra, picking up the empty water container by her side and giving it a shake. "When did they last refill this?" Korra shrugged. She had no idea, in the state of consciousness she was usually in. "I brought you plenty, but like the food, you need to take it slow."

Asami clucked like a mother hen, looking her over. "You're so skinny, just like the others. If the public could see you now…" Carefully finishing the bun, Korra reached for the drink. It took a herculean amount of effort to go slowly and not guzzle it all. Her throat was unbearably dry. It was so good, though. Food and drink had become such luxuries somewhere along the line. When she was halfway through the container, Asami presented her with another meat bun, which Korra accordingly devoured. For a while, there were only the ugly, desperate noises of starved fulfilment. Korra winced at the noises she was making, but her social conditioning was far overcome by hunger. As the ache in her belly subsided a little, she began to take her time more than forcing herself to go slowly, and became calmer.

She sighed, heartfelt, and smiled earnestly at Asami. "Thanks. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"It's not over yet," Asami said, giving her a wink. "Put these on. I'll turn my back." She produced an entire Equalist outfit from the bag, complete with a head covering. Grinning, Korra gladly shimmied out of her filthy clothes into the comfortable, if slightly snug, ensemble.

"Okay, done," she said, pulling the head covering over. It was a little claustrophobic inside, but nothing that would make her panic. "Where are we going?" Asami offered her an arm, which Korra linked hers through without hesitation.

"To visit an old friend," she replied, her grin wicked. Korra grinned below the fabric across her face, feeling a little bit herself for the first time in… too long. They stepped out into the corridor cautiously at first—it would look the tiniest bit suspicious to stroll out of the prison cell. Korra did wonder for a second if Asami was sure that nobody would come along while they were out and discover her escape, but the sick, anxious feeling that rose to that thought was so nauseating that she decided to just trust in Asami and hope that that had been planned around.

In that gear, they moved through the house easily. Korra was constantly on edge when they met the first few people, until Asami whispered gently for her to relax. After nobody screamed "fake!" or seemed to even care that much about them, she slowly released her tension. She tried to remember the confidence with which she had moved in the past, and let herself expand from her shrunken fear. Gradually, the shift from military appearance to more residential changed back, and they were in an area that was purely violently functional once more. They'd taken multiple flights of steps down, and the air was stale and cold. Almost nobody passed them down here, and those who did had a look of grim duty. Some were in the same uniform that she was.

Eventually, Asami reached one particularly heavily fortified door, and reached into her pocket. She produced a substantial key which she inserted into a lock. Korra had had enough of locks for a lifetime, and winced at the noise. On the other side was an ante-room of sorts, a tiny hall. Another, even more imposing door lay ahead, flanked by a guard on either side. Korra jumped, looking to Asami worriedly. The other girl didn't seem concerned at all about the two, simply nodding to them.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," the woman said. "You haven't got that long; you took your time getting here. Half an hour at most. Is it seven thirty tonight for the meeting?" She was burly and business-like, holding out another key to Asami, who took it with a murmur of thanks. The man didn't seem look like he cared at all what was going on, crossing his arms and ignoring everyone.

"Okay, and thanks," Asami said absent-mindedly. "Give us some warning for timing, would you?"

"Sure." As the lock clicked, both guards reached out and placed their hands on the door. It clicked again, and slowly swung open. Korra looked in curiously to see who it would be, and gasped.

"Tenzin," she said, stepping forward and then running forward to throw herself bodily into his arms. He was startled out of his meditation, blinking once and then more, again and again.

"Korra?" he asked incredulously. "No—it can't be—it's not really… Korra?"

"It's me, Tenzin," she said, nearly smiling. "It's so good to see you." He had that serenity still that he'd always had; Tenzin, out of all of them, seemed to have retained his dignity and his own character the most. He'd been meditating as she'd come in, which was almost enough to put a grin on her face. But he must be so worried—had he seen his family in weeks, months? "And Asami," she added, glancing back to her partner in crime, "she's helping us."

"It's good to see you too," he said, patting her on the shoulder. "I've missed you. I've missed you all. Where are your other friends—have you seen the children? Have you seen Pema?"

"Have they told you anything?"

"Nothing," Tenzin said grimly, crossing his arms. "I made an escape attempt and I've been locked up in here ever since. Only food comes."

"That's kind of better than what they told me," Korra muttered, thinking of all the death threats—but did she really have the right to decide what was better? Who was she to say that Tenzin had suffered less than she had? The gnawing anxiety bit at her stomach, and she steered away from that line of thought. "Asami says the kids are fine, they're being taken care of by someone who's all right. Pema… I don't actually know—Asami?"

The other girl stepped forward, bowed elegantly and respectfully to Tenzin and stood there resting her hands in her pockets. "Your wife is all right, sir. She gave birth to a healthy baby boy, and she's being kept under loose guard in a medical facility onsite." The relief in Tenzin's face was undeniable. Some shadow lifted, and he became more business-like.

"I'm guessing there's a plan to escape," he said seriously. "Of course, I'll be a plan of it." Korra glanced at Asami.

"We haven't got that far yet. I… Tenzin—have you got your bending back?" she asked in a rush, irrationally afraid that the answer was going to be no despite all that she had heard. In reply, Tenzin stood up, and moved through a stance to produce a powerful gust that whooshed around the room, stirring up her hair and blowing most of Asami's right into her face.

"At first, they put me in here, and drugged me so that I couldn't bend, but I noticed over time that I was becoming more and more lucid… I suppose that was your doing," he said, with a gracious nod to Asami, who shrugged.

"No problem, sir. Glad to help."

"I need to get back my bending," Korra said awkwardly, blurting it out before she lost all her courage. "Would you… I need help. I don't know how to do it."

Tenzin's expression became tender and worried. She looked away, unable to see that. "You've gone all this time without your bending? Of course I'll help you get it back, Korra…" He took her into a gentle hug, which she remained in for a second or so and then twisted out of, rubbing at the back of her neck. "How much time do we have?"

Asami checked her watch. "Not long, I'm afraid… fifteen minutes or so."

"Right. Sit down, Korra. Close your eyes." She obeyed, heart racing in excitement and fear. What if she wasn't good enough to get her bending back? What if she couldn't do it? What if it was just Tenzin, if he was special in some way and she wasn't? She tried to chase away the fears and calm her beating heart into relaxation. It looked like regaining one's bending required meditation and quiet, the prospect of which had her stomach sinking instantly. Great. Two things she was awful at right from the start. "Breathe deeply, and calmly." Focusing solely on her breathing helped, but her head still span. It had become a very anxious place over months, and she only realised in moments when she was trying to be quiet. Still, those times of meditating in Amon's room had paid off a little bit. She wasn't as terrible as she had been at Air Temple Island. The stakes were a lot higher here, though.

"What Amon does is through the head," Tenzin murmured. It's your head, Korra thought. Asami had been right, whoever she'd got that from. "It's not energy bending, that much is certain, but I honestly don't know what it is. I've never experienced this sort of thing before. To get my bending back—well, I meditated"—Korra grinned; of course—"profusely, alone in this cell… there wasn't much to do… and when I got desperate, I remembered what my father had told me and a tale Iroh, the Dragon of the West, told me when I was a little boy—the Spirit World and their journeys there. I managed, after days, in desperation, to get to the Spirit World."

"Does this mean a lot of meditation?" Korra interrupted dolefully, trying to conceal the real, pure, overwhelming relief that was rising through her. She'd cried a lot recently. She didn't want to cry in front of Tenzin over something like this, something that he seemed to have found easily. Logically, she knew that he wouldn't care—he'd held her as she'd cried before, after all—but already, she must seem so different to him. That twisted brokenness that had wormed its way inside her and cracked her apart from the inside was repulsive, and she couldn't let him see it.

Tenzin chuckled. "It means quite a bit of meditation, but it should be different for you; you are the Avatar after all, Korra, even if you find the spiritual side of things difficult. You have a—a hot line to the Spirit World, essentially, though working past the fear and anxiety that keep you trapped to this earth will be difficult. The fear of never regaining your bending, fear of being powerless without it, all that anxiety contributes to the block that will keep you from overcoming. To work through that requires effort, and time, especially in this situation. But you're a strong young woman, Korra, and of course you'll be able to do it."

He smiled, strained but sure. "In the Spirit World, I met my father. It might not be quite as simple for you, Korra, just being given your bending back; as the Avatar, Aang might want to pass on the knowledge of energybending to you, so you can help others, but get into the Spirit World, or the Avatar State—make contact with Aang and you'll see what you need to do.

"If you could relay this somehow to Lin, I'm sure she'd be able to as well; she's an earthbender, so I doubt she's approached it from this side, but she'll understand if you explain it. For the average person… I don't think it would be possible without careful help, but Lin was very close with my father. She'll understand." A tremor ran through Korra at the idea of three of them regaining their bending. That would be a start—and they'd need to circulate this to the people, as well, Asami could do that—and if the Dai Li arrived they'd have a specialist force and organised rebellion—would the Dai Li know how to fight mecha, though? It would be all very well to have them arrive with their traditional earthbending at a loss in fighting new weapons…

"We need to find a way to fight the mecha," she said, rubbing at her chin thoughtfully. "They're the greatest weapon against the benders at the moment… and taking out the Equalists…"

"There's a method of redirecting lightning that Fire Lord Zuko passed down," Tenzin said, shrugging, "but I don't know if it would work against those gloves. Perhaps if we could destroy them… And the populace needs to regain their bending—I assume that would be your area, Miss Sato, if you can organise getting key people to Korra without being detected. If it's impossible then it is, perhaps, not absolutely necessary in this state of war, but that would be ideal…" Asami nodded politely, looking up from her fixation on the floor.

"Asami, please," she said affably. "Not Miss Sato. There's an easy way of tracking down benders who've had their bending taken away. There's a list."

"A list?" Korra asked, frowning.

"They're registering all the benders in the city. It was one of the first laws they passed," she explained, grimacing. "Of course, nobody wanted to, but there are serious penalties if you're caught harbouring an unregistered bender; it's one of the reasons so many people went into hiding and we already have an organised underground. So it has people's residences, their names, ages, that sort of thing. I can start working on that. I have a lot of allies," she added, a satisfied smile appearing. "I can get to the list."

"Excellent," Korra said. "I'll working on getting my bending back, Asami'll organise Lin, and the other benders in the city, and Tenzin… we can't really do a lot for you at the moment, but we'll fill you in on any plans—if you could think of ways to deal with the mecha, that would really help."

"Of course." For a second, he was quiet, and simply scrutinised her face. "I know you've suffered, Korra," he said quietly, hesitantly, "but I want to say how proud I am of you, and how proud Aang would be, will be, how proud everyone will be when they find out—that you didn't give up, and you're fighting from the inside. I know that your parents would be proud, and after this is over, because it will be over eventually, you will always have a place on Air Temple Island to heal and to recover from this—"

Wordlessly, biting back the tears, Korra flung herself into a hug. They stayed there for a moment, clinging on with a bond that went deeper than shared plans, than a teacher and a mentor, than two lonely, afraid, starved people holding onto a small expression of love in the darkness.

Some friendships transcend lifetimes.