A Place for Us

"It'll be just like the good old days."

'What good old days? '

Tarrlok sat at the back of the speed boat, wind pulling his unkempt hair around his face. He held a blank stare in his eyes as he peered into the back of the man ahead of him. It had been years since he had laid eyes on his brother—26 long years. He thought back to the days of his childhood and imagined how he'd react to Noatak's return. He pictured the joy on the 11 year old boy's face after finally being reunited with his brother. His expression was nothing like that now. Tarrlok inwardly chuckled at the feigned memories he'd concocted. His brother had run away and never returned. His brother left him and his mother alone with their crazed father. His brother had escaped.

'Or so I thought.'

After his father's death, Tarrlok was lost on how to continue. In the end, he was brought back to his father's original purpose: Ruling Republic City. But he wasn't going to screw it up like his father did—oh no—he would infiltrate the city though its own political system and take it down from the inside. He would do much better than his father. He would be successful! He would show them all! He would win! He wouldn't be like his insane father.

'I guess I was wrong.'

After all, what did his father want but to rule over the weak? He had trained his own sons to be machines—tools for his own revenge. It was unacceptable. After Noatak had run away, Tarrlok promised himself that he wouldn't be anything like his father. He swore never to make the same mistakes. It wasn't until he was he was stripped of his power and reduced to a mere prisoner that he became conscious of his own ignorance. Taking over the city. Attacking the Avatar. He truly was nothing but his father's pawn. Then again, Noatak hadn't done any better. He imaged Yakone laughing in his grave watching both brothers fall short just as he had all those years ago.

'Brothers.'

Even if he had fallen to the level of his father, Tarrlok knew his brother had escaped. He knew his brother had been different. He had run away, not continuing to live through their father's scrutiny. He had gotten out from under the shadow of the tyrant. He would be okay. As Tarrlok hatched his plan to take over Republic City, he knew Noatak would safe. At least he wouldn't fall prey to their father's vengeance. And then that night, when Amon resisted his bending—he knew it. There was only one person on this earth that could have done such a thing; and now there he was, standing right in front of him. As he sat alone in that cell, he finally understood why the brothers seemed as though they were doomed to fail.

"We could never escape. Neither of us."

They had both tried all those years to find a place where they belonged. They used different methods, but all for the same purpose—just that— purpose. For so long they were nothing but puppets in their father's hands, but now he was dead and gone. What were they to do? What was left for them to live for? With no answer, they tried to create one. A world where they could live in peace. A world meant just for them. They both tried to find their place within the city walls, but neither did. Neither could. He felt it such a shame when he realized the bitter truth.

'We have no place in this world.'

His eyes slowly traveled from his brother's back to the shelf of glove-weapons laid out near him. Almost as if he were in a trance, he reached out for one. Noatak hadn't moved, still standing proudly at the ship's edge, but he knew it was just for show. While others would not have caught the hint of sadness in the man's voice as he said those words, he had. After all, they were brothers. He saw a tear fall down Noatak's cheek and watched it disappear in the wind. With a somber look in his eyes, Tarrlok unscrewed the cap that held what he knew was the boat's fuel source and slowly closed his eyes.

'I'm sorry, brother.'