Work Text:
There was something about the silence that drove him to the inevitable reality. Noatak was gone and he was not going to come back. As much as he hoped, prayed, his brother would not come back.
He should have gone with him. He should have left.
Maybe if he did he wouldn't feel the tight pain in his heart. The lone nights where he cried himself to sleep were unbearable.
Crying out for his brother. Crying for the only person who cared.
Crying wouldn't bring him back though, no he was alone.
Weeks passed since Noatak ran away and with each passing day their father withered away with them. A heavy heart possibly in regret for driving him off, or maybe in the idea revenge would never be his.
Despite how worn and old his heart may be it would not compare to Tarrlok's. Tarrlok had lost more than just his brother, he lost part of his life, someone he loved deeply.
The world would spin into turmoil the next few years as he mourned the loss of Noatak.
His hands would feel the empty space where his brother would lie next to him. The mess of furs and blankets were just empty, and they would stay empty for years to come. A bitter and hateful thought, but true none the less. No one would fill that space again.
It wasn't until Yakone's death did he take the chance to finally leave. Grief stricken and broken, there simply was nothing left here for him. His mother knew this and though as sad as she may have been as her last son walks away, it was for the best.
Life was filled with distractions to keep his mind out of the thought of his long lost brother. Distractions weren't always enough and some days he found himself thinking of nothing else. His mind focused on every memory, every thought.
They were the kind of days life just seemed bleak and uncontrollable. Days like having such a fake world fall apart at the hands of the Avatar. Having his bending taken away and now...
Locked away in silence.
This is where he felt a twinged of pain strike his heart as realization came upon him, and his brother went from being lost to being what was left of a broken man.
Just like him.
The cold nights where they held each other close, the laughter, the strife was all but a haze in the moment.
And like any moment it soon was nothing more than memory.
Then there's nothing.