Safe and Sound

It comforts Lin, in her final hours, to know that Amon's forces will lose despite her failure. Perhaps it is because of this that she does not get up and continue fighting them alone or try to drive them away from the burned-out hull that used to be the police building. The Avatar, stupid, stubborn girl that she was, had gone into the Avatar state only hours before and had dealt a crushing blow to the Equalists. Perhaps Korra's entitled self was good for something after all.

Lin ponders all of this as she lies under a slab of metal that she no longer has the strength to move. The blue sky that was clouded with smoke and debris only minutes before was a cheerful, deep blue. A few fat clouds lazily rolled over the chaotic scene below them without pause. Lin could hear a few voices, some of them pained, as they made their way out of the wreckage caused by the violent explosion. One sound in particular stuck out as it drew closer. Someone was sifting through the wreckage, tossing debris to and fro as they made their way in an erratic line around the police building's perimeter. As the person drew closer she pursed her lips into a hard, thin line, and as his mask came into view she stared up at it with her hard green eyes.

Amon barely looked down at her before he flexed the strong muscles of his arms and heaved the metal off of her. Kneeling, he took her face in his hand and inquisitively turned it from side to side so he could examine it.

"You don't look so good, Lin."

At the sound of his low, gravelly voice she bit back a snarl. Without the pressure from the debris on top of her the pain in her lower body began to return and she closed her eyes against a sudden wave of nausea. She was done for. But in a way so was he, even if he didn't have a scratch on him. The Equalist movement was as dead as dirt. She didn't want to ruin her last few moments by exchanging verbal blows with Amon so Lin remained silent and focused on her breathing as she broke out in a sweat. Amon pensively stroked the scar on the side of her cheek with his thumb, perhaps remembering the night he had broken into her bedroom and had given it to her when she so forcibly evicted him.

"Let's move to a more scenic locale," Amon said finally, after he had taken a moment to examine his fallen foe's battered armor.

He slid his hands under her and Lin groaned in exasperation and rolled her eyes at him.

"Spare me your worthless pity," she coughed, the metallic tang of blood rising in the back of her throat.

He ignored her, like always, and picked her up as if she weighed nothing at all. When the pain came back in another blinding wave she curled up against him and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, burying her face against his chest. Even walking as smoothly as he always did, every footfall was a small agony to the dying woman. When she opened her eyes again Amon was placing her gently on the grass. She coughed again and swallowed more blood before propping herself up against his leg. To her right she could see the glittering, clear water of the river winding its way through the strangely-peaceful park. To her left and behind Amon lay the city, where she refused to look, some of its buildings still smoking. And here she was, leaning against her worst enemy while the city went to shit. Well, it wouldn't be for long. Her second-in-command would be alright. Even the avatar might be of some help. When Amon stretched out his hand and tapped her belt buckle in a silent question, Lin feebly shook her head and placed her shaking hands over his.

"Don't bother," she said crossly, unwilling to admit that she didn't want to endure the pain of taking it off.

"Suit yourself."

He was humoring her, dying woman that she was, and Lin hated him all the more for trying to give her the little bit of dignity that could be afforded by stripping away the scorched, dented metal shell she currently wore. They sat in silence for awhile and watched the sun as it began to sink and the pain got steadily worse. When it began to get better, as she had heard it did for those who were passing on, Lin looked up at Amon's mask. She had never seen the burned flesh that was behind it. She doubted if anyone had. And here he sat, staring out at the sunset, his hands entwined with hers. Lin realized that she was tightly clenching their fingers together and she loosened her grip. Amon looked down at her and then back at the setting sun.

"Think of something happy. It's often said that helps ease the"—

"I'm dying, not depressed," she scoffed.

"What sort of flowers would you like at the funeral, then?"

"Don't you dare," Lin growled, "Just let me rest in peace without all of thatnonsense."

They watched the sunset until Lin's breathing grew shallow and slow. She turned to look up at Amon one last time and closed her eyes, slipping away in an infinitely more peaceful way than she'd lived. When he was sure that she'd gone he took his hands away from hers, stood and dusted off his pants before bending down and crossing Lin's arms over her chest.

"Perhaps…fire lilies," Amon said aloud, slipping away into the shadows to disobey his old foe's last request.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading!Reviews and criticism is always appreciated, I like knowing what I did right and getting ideas for improvement.