Wow. It's been awhile since I've wrote anything. Nice to flex my writing fingers again. Although i suspect there are sooo many fics on this one scene, I figured I'd just scoot mine in there while I was at it. If you find any grammar mistakes in there, please tell me. I probably missed a few. I also feel that I should credit therentyoupay who used this period going down the page format. I haven't seen it done anywhere else and I really thought it was an effective visual tool. Anyone who reads this should really check her out. She's an amazing writer and a really nice person.
I do not own Amon/Tarlok or any other avatar related stuff in this story.
"Noatak."
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"Noatak."
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"I'd almost forgotten the sound of my own name."
The consonants were pronounced, everything perfectly articulated. Not like the jumble of sounds it use to be because his brother said his name all the time and it was tiresome to perfectly enunciate his name right down to the Oa and Ak.
Noatak wonders how long has it been that his brother pronounces his name like they just meet.
Like they were strangers.
As if he hadn't helped Tarlok build his first snowman when he was two. As if Tarlok hadn't teased him for a full lunar cycle after that waterbender girl-Hila-had kissed him on the cheek for helping her carry some baskets of fish. As if he and Tarlok hadn't waterbended a whole pile of snow on top of that women who had been yelling at their mother about how she wasn't raising them right. As if Tarlok hadn't taken his chores for a week because he had screwed up with his waterbending and had frozen the sink pipes completely and asked him to fix it, please Noatak please before dad finds out! I'll do anything!
Am-Noatak just wanted to fix this.
He always wanted to fix things.
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Fix himself…
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Feet further apart, boy!
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…to be the child his father wanted.
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Fix his family…
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It's okay Noatak. Your father just wants the best for you
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…so they could live together.
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Happy finally.
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Fix this world…
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I Am The Solution.
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…so that sad stories like his never existed.
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Noatak believes he can fix this. As strongly as he believes that getting rid of benders was the first step in fixing this world. He and his brother can go. Go far far away where they'll never be found. Go to the Ancient Air Temples where there is no communication or technology and the monks would take in strangers with open arms. Go to the Earth Kingdom Swamps where people just disappear. Go to the abandoned Fire Nation Islands where peace seekers had hidden from the Hundred Year War for years, isolated from everything around them and were now populated by those who wanted nothing to do with this new world.
Noatak could just go.
Like he had done before.
But his brother was by his side now and everything would be okay.
Everything would be fine.
They could be happy.
Tarlok could meet some beautiful, freedom spirit, kind and compassionate woman that would remind them both of their mother. She would be a bender and Amon would let her stay that way because she cried at the thought of hurting a wolfbat and would take in stray kittens without any hesitation. She would be a wonderful mother of two boys, for Tarlok to gloat over, and a girl that she had always wanted and who Noatak would spoil rotten. And on the day of every child's birth Amon would reach into their heads and make sure that they would never feel any element and that Tarlok would never become Yukone. Tarlok would suspect something when his second child also turns out to be a non-bender but would say nothing because he is too happy and would not risk his happiness for something as petty as bending.
Amon would get many offers over the years but would decline all of them. Tarlok's wife would one day tell Noatak that he needs to move on with his life, that whatever it is he's punishing himself for,
He can stop now.
Noatak thinks she's crazy because he has nothing to be sorry for.
It's not even two weeks later when he meets that twice damned earthbender girl who stinks of Fire Nation pride and practically breathes out fire. But when she breathes in, she's taking in life and it bleeds out through her skin,
Her words,
Her stormy blue eyes.
And early in the morning when the sunshine can't compare to the light leaking out of her, Amon holds his thumb to her forehead and thinks this time, this time I'll-
And then she wakes up and the happiness of the world is shining in her eyes…
What the hell are you doing, sweetness?
…and he just
…he just can't.
He can't bear to see that light leave her eyes when he tears her apart. Her bending is cancer, pulsing inside of her like the heart of a flame, poison running through her veins like-water-blood, but to tear it out would kill her and she'd take him right along with her.
So every morning he puts her thumb to her forehead-i'll do it this time-until one day he puts his thumb to her forehead, brushing away a gray lock, and doesn't feel her blood flowing through her veins.
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shrrrr
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whirr
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Amon knows the sound of a gas holding being unscrewed.
He knows the mechanical whir of a Standard Issued Equalist Protection Glove charging up.
Noatak knows his brother is going to blow them to bits in a few seconds.
He knows his brother would've forced Amon to give him back his bending or kill him trying.
He knows his brother would've run the hell away from him as soon as his firstborn son came into this world.
He knows Tarlok would train his sons and daughter in bloodbending and the girl that he would've been so fond of would be the most apt.
He knows Tarlok would become Yukone.
He knows that he would take away the bending of the first bender he sees abusing their power.
He knows he would seek out his Revolution once more.
He knows that on the first night that irresponsible, brash girl was in his room he would've swiped her bending while she slept.
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Their story was never a happy one.
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It never would be.
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Put an end to this sad story.
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Noatak looked out onto the horizon, the sunlight stretching itself thin over choppy washed out waters. The sky was the exact color as the earthbender who breathed life. The only thing with any emotion in this muted landscape, even if that emotion was just sadness. Everything in the world seemed sucked of its color. Seemed drained of life, tired and listless and ready to go.
What was he thinking?
Today was a terrible day for the Dawning of The Equalist.
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Good day to die though.
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"It will be just like the good old days."
End.