A/N: I've been having a lot of Korrlok thoughts lately. I hope you all enjoy. Don't forget to review!

She is crying.

He picks up the small infant automatically, holding it the way Katara had told him. She squalls even harder at his itchy Republic City clothes and Tarrlok scowls out of frustration and the exhaustion every new parent feels. He rocks the baby against his chest and hums a Northern Water Tribe song his own mother used to sing. The baby quiets long enough for him to study her.

She has his skin and hair color, but then again so does Korra. It is too early to tell who she resembles right now but Tarrlok is sure she has Korra's signature pout. He smiles and runs a finger over her small lips and is startled when she immediately draws the tip of his finger into her mouth. Tarrlok laughs from shock that briefly turns to horror as he braces himself for the cry of...But it never comes. Instead, small peals of laughter bubbles forth from his daughter's mouth.

"You like that? You like it when Daddy's all scared you're going to scream and kick?" He laughs again. "Korra! Korra, come quick! You need to-"

"Tarrlok?"

"You need to see this, Avatar. You'll never believe-" Tarrlok stops abruptly when he realizes the petite water-tribe woman standing in the doorway is not Korra.

"How are you feeling?" He brushed away the hair plastered on her sweaty forehead before leaning over to give her an encouraging kiss.

"Spirits, Tarrlok! I'm giving birth to your child and that's the only thing you have to say to me?" Korra grunted. Her grip on his hand intensified during a particularly painful contraction and Tarrlok was sure he would never regain full use of it again. "Don't worry about me, Councilman. Water Tribe hips are famous for a reason." She winked.

Tarrlok pretends not to see the pity and profound sorrow in her eyes.

"Where's Tonraq?" He asks.

"He went out to buy some things for the journey back home," Senna answers.

"I think she's hungry," He says softly after a beat, the baby still gurgling in his arms. "Could you get a bottle?"

Senna nods slowly and walks out of the room. She is not much older than he is. A mere eight years separates them but the past few months have added twenty years to her face. Tarrlok wonders how he looks.

A piercing cry.

Korra let out an exhausted laugh and fell back weakly against the pillows. Tarrlok whooped in spite of himself.

"Be careful now. Hold her head like this. She's beautiful" Katara said as she handed the impossibly small thing, no, baby, to Tarrlok. The chorus of congratulations from the other women in the room registers vaguely in the back of his mind. He held her close to his chest as she screamed and she was all flailing fists and legs. He smiled and placed the child in Korra's arms. She looked at the babe, a nameless emotion gracing her features, and for a moment Tarrlok found it hard to breathe. This is more than he had ever dared dream of.

"Mikka, meet your mommy and daddy." Korra's voice was soft and full of awe. She looked up at Tarrlok who was hastily wiping away tears. "Don't get all soft on me," she laughed but her eyes were brimming with tears. A few fell over. "We did it, Councilman."

"I guess we did, Avatar." An unbidden tear made its way down Tarrlok's face as he looked at his family. His family.

Senna is back with the bottle. She hands it to Tarrlok who squeezes a few drops of the milk onto the back of his hand before deeming it the correct temperature.

"Hold her head like this," Senna says quietly beside him. Her slender hands reach up to adjust Mikka in his arms. "You have to be very careful with a baby's head."

Tarrlok nods slowly. Mikka takes to the bottle quickly enough and the room is silent save for the fast breaths of the baby.

"Tarrlok." Senna rests a hand on his shoulder.

He cannot bring himself to look at her.

It had been a few hours since the birth and Korra was exhausted. Tarrlok, against Katara's wishes, opened the windows of their bedroom in an attempt to let fresh air in. Her chi needs fresh air, he argued. She's been in this room for the past 36 hours.

Korra was asleep now, exhaustion and peace painted onto her face. Tarrlok sat in the chair beside her bed, holding an also sleeping Mikka. He stared at his daughter with such intensity that Senna, keeping watch from the other side of the room, was surprised that Mikka didn't wake up from the sheer devotion. Whatever doubts she had about Tarrlok, who was only a bit younger than she, dissipated and she smiled approvingly. But Korra's breathing was too shallow...

She sputtered awake, gasping. Tarrlok started and the sudden movement jolted Mikka awake who started screaming immediately. Korra seized and made a choked sound.

"What's happening?" Tarrlok yelled. Mikka was plucked from his arms by Pema too quickly for him to protest but his attention was quickly diverted when Katara, Pema, and Senna ran to the bed, effectively pushing him out of the way as their hands deftly ran over Korra's writhing body. The room filled with panicked shouts, most of them his own, and before he could begin to understand what was happening, they stopped abruptly. She stopped.

"It's funny," Tarrlok begins. He is holding Mikka over his shoulder, one hand securing her while the other pats her back in an effort to burp her. "Korra's the strongest woman I know. She went head to head with Amon, nearly lost her bending, took on a whole group of Equalists but it's a baby..." Tarrlok trails off and ducks his head, his long curtain of hair shielding his face. Four months later and it still cuts him like a knife. He shifts the now burped Mikka and suddenly looks up at Senna who is standing with her hands clasped in front of her, tears filling her eyes. "I'm sorry," He chokes, shame settling into his shoulders.

"She has her mouth," Senna notes quietly. Her fingers brush against Mikka's cheek in a gentle caress as she inhales deeply.

"I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing." They both laugh but the sadness covers him like a blanket still. "I miss her," he quietly admits He can't even say her name even though it races through his mind like the holiest of prayers. He buries his face in Mikka's neck, inhaling her milky and warm scent.

Senna studies the man in front of her. Gone was the tall and arrogant councilman Korra had inexplicably fallen for. The man before her resembles a boy facing a job he was not prepared to do alone. Not that anyone is.

"You still have her." Senna's hand brushes the tuft of Mikka's dark hair. Korra had been nearly bald when she was born.

A small smile alights Tarrlok's face as he looks down at his daughter. Korra's daughter.

"I suppose I do."