Hey guys! Thanks for all the favorites/story follows from the last chapter, and to crazycakes76 and LivingDeadDollQueen, thanks for the reviews. Here's the drabble for day 2's prompt, set in the middle of the Book 1 seaon finale, specifically in episode 1:12, "Endgame". A lot of people took the direction of "old time detective movie" or something similar for this theme, but I decided on a different approach. Read, review, and enjoy, guys~


2. Noir

Breathe in, breathe out.

Korra squeezes herself in between a stack of discarded weights and the wall, fingers knotting in her hair, teeth digging into her lip so hard the rusty tang of blood bathes her tongue.

Breathe in, breathe out.

His footsteps echo from out in the hall, measured, almost casual — always so sure of himself. No doubt he's enjoying this, keeping them dangling by a thread, letting them slip ahead of him, only to catch up in a heartbeat.

Breathe in, breathe out.

It's getting closer, that even drum of boots on concrete. The shadows concealing her seem to tremble, and Korra realizes she's shaking.

Where's Mako? She'd seen him run into the gym ahead of her, but by the time she'd bolted around the corner, he'd already disappeared. If there was ever a moment she wished she could have his arms around her, telling her everything would be alright, that she was safe, it's now.

Breathe in, breathe out.

A dark shape falls across the floor just beyond the curtain, growing steadily larger. Sweat begins to dew on Korra's forehead and the back of her neck. The sound of his strides is drowned out by her pounding heart.

Breathe in, breathe out.

The figure pauses right next to her, so close she could reach out and grab his ankle were she inclined to. She shifts further towards the wall, praying the minute scuffs of her feet don't reach his ears. Fear seizes her chest, claws its way up her throat, suffocating —

He moves again, continuing his path across the gym. She swallows hard.

Breathe in, breathe —

And suddenly she's launched into the air, yanked from her hiding place by a force so powerful it's like a vise grip on her lungs. Her veins feel as if they're freezing over, her body contorted painfully as all motion seems to stop within her. The toes of her shoes float a considerable distance from the ground, though she can't be sure how high; the muscles in her neck won't turn to let her figure it out.

She's experienced the strength of bloodbending before, but never like this. Even her bones feel numb; absolutely everything is out of her control, and she's just a lifeless puppet in Amon's hands.

Her heart skips a beat when she hears it, that rage-filled voice that's become as familiar as her own over the past few months.

"Let her go!"

The gym explodes with flashes of orange and the roar of flames, the heat so intense its waves brush against her from where she's suspended. She struggles to break free of Amon's iron grip, to help the stupid, overprotective, perfect idiot trying to save her, to do something. But she can't even twitch a finger, can barely breathe anymore, and in an instant the rush of fire somewhere ahead is extinguished. A whole new brand of terror rips through her as she realizes what it means.

He's got Mako, too.

Before she has a chance to even consider a plan, she's slammed to the floor, the impact knocking the wind out of her. A resounding thud and a groan tell her the same's happened to Mako, but Amon hasn't relinquished either of them. In fact, he appears to be pinning Mako to the ground while he rounds on Korra, regarding her through that infamous mask as he towers over her.

Invisible strings jerk on her chest, and she's forced up onto her knees. Her arms hang uselessly at her sides, wrists twisted so violently she's surprised they haven't snapped.

A hand clamps down on the back of her neck, tilting her head so that she's staring right into his shadowed, emotionless eyes.

"No!"

The word bursts from her throat in a strangled gasp, her pulse hammering against her ribcage. His empty hand begins a slow descent, and panic sears through her entire body like the fire she bends, white-hot and overwhelming. His cold thumb presses down on her forehead, her eyelids squeezing shut as the world seems to quake beneath her —

It starts in the tips of her toes, the pads of her fingers. A chill that cuts her to the core creeps up her arms and legs, as though her blood has turned to arctic water. It devours the heat that comes with her inner firebender, crumbles the strength of her earthbender side to dust. Even her native element is attacked, the flow of the waterbender in her muscles ceasing, her kinship with the ocean shattering into a thousand ice crystals.

Some small part of her thinks she hears Mako yelling her name, but the cold is snaking into her chest now, piercing her heart and leaving her gasping for air. Darkness twists around the edges of her vision, threatening to drag her under.

She wants to call out to him, tell him to run, beg him for help, anything to remind herself he's really there, still alive but just out of reach. But it's scraping up her throat now, the life of fire, the solidity of earth, the push and pull of water. Everything that connects her to the elements, to who she is as the Avatar, abandons her completely in a rush of breath.

Her limbs turn to stone as blackness crashes over her senses. She thinks she collapses, but she isn't one hundred percent sure. All she knows is she's never felt weaker in her life.

Amon is speaking somewhere above her — she can hear the rumble of his voice, but the words don't register. In a last-ditch effort, she forces her eyes open on blurry surroundings. She pushes herself onto her hands and knees, trembling, and swings a fist at the fuzzy shape she imagines is Amon's mask.

Nothing happens. No flames burst from her fingertips; not even a crack appears in the gym floor.

What little willpower she has left gives out, and she slumps back to the concrete, whimpering. Despair draws her in like the full moon once had, drowning her — and she hates it. She hates this helplessness, hates that she's been reduced to a shivering mess at Amon's feet. This isn't how it's supposed to be. She's supposed to be a savior, to protect all the innocent people who need her — to be their Avatar.

And what good is she to anyone if she can't even save herself?

I'm sorry, Mako. I failed.

As if her thoughts are a cue, strong arms suddenly wrap around her, draping one of her own over lean shoulders as she's lifted off the ground. Mako holds her to his chest securely as he takes off running, her body bouncing in time with his stride.

She doesn't know how he'd gotten away from Amon, or whether he'd lost his bending in the process, but at the moment she really doesn't care. All the color seems to have been drained from the world, — the vibrant reds, the soft blues, everything — and his face is like a splash of warm light in the grayscale.

"Mako… my bending…"

The frailty in her voice makes her sick. Feeling vulnerable has never boded well with her, but she tries to focus instead on Mako's heartbeat, his rapid breathing as he carries her to safety. His familiar smoky scent clings to his Equalist disguise, comforting her.

"Everything will be alright." The words are slightly hoarse, spoken through heavy panting, but soothing all the same. "We just need to get out of here."

A glimmer of hope sparks in Korra's mind, leaking a few dull hues back into the shadows around her. But before she can fully grasp it, Mako gives a hard jolt, and she's flung through the air again, skidding across the floor as she lands. Sharp pain lances her side and crackles through the rest of her body, and darkness twirls in her vision again, beckoning her.

She catches a distant clanging noise through the gloom that sounds horribly like human flesh colliding with metal. Mako's name flashes in her thoughts, dissolving the fog just enough for an even more terrible echo to reach her ears.

"I'm impressed. No one has ever gotten the better of me like that."

Her heart stops dead, kicking into overdrive not a second later. She has to be imagining it. She has to.

"It's almost a shame to take the bending of someone so talented."

No. No. Not Mako. Please, anyone but him.

"Almost…"

Panic as she's never known bursts from her chest like the lightning she's seen at Mako's fingertips, lending new strength to her aching limbs. Through sheer force of will, she lifts her head to be met with her own worst nightmare; Mako bent at Amon's feet, his back arched in a way that's nowhere near natural, that monster's hand raised to strip him of exactly what Korra has already lost —

Something inside of her snaps.

"NO!"

Hot adrenaline surges through her veins, propelling her off the ground. Common sense tells her there's no point, but fear and rage have her punching her fist in Amon's direction, forgetting she can't bend in her desperation to protect the boy she loves —

Not even she expects the torrent of wind that sends both Mako and Amon tumbling down the hallway.

Terror bleeding into shock, she reaches out to steady herself against the wall, staring blankly at her hands.

"I… I can airbend?"

The realization hits her like a tidal wave, pouring some of the life back into her damaged soul. New colors she's never really noticed before flood her eyesight, bright yellows and cool grays and sun-kissed oranges. And just like that, a burden she's borne for far too long is lifted from her shoulders.

"I can airbend!"

Power as she's never known it courses through her, a newfound strength she can't quite put a name to. It's not fierce like the passion of fire, or rigid like steadfast earth, or graceful like the lull of water. It's light, relaxed, almost free — the touch of the airbender spirit that's finally in her grasp.

She sums up every ounce of energy she has, instinct guiding her as she advances on Amon, one gust of air blending into the next. The thuds of his body hitting the walls, skidding along the floor only drive her onward. This is the man who's destroyed lives, robbed people of their own identities, tormented her sleep for more nights than she cares to count. And finally, finally, she's got the upper hand.

Amon slams into the base of the window at the far end of the corridor; he grabs onto the sill and pulls up onto one knee. A brief pause in her assault, and he's hauling himself to his feet, arm raised and fingers outstretched toward her.

Ice pierces her to the bone, squeezing her lungs, trapping her breath in the center of her throat. For an instant she's paralyzed, her joints cracking as they're bent and twisted far beyond the point of natural. Her fury, her absolute loathing toward this manipulative man peaks, boiling beneath her skin as her inner firebender once had. It consumes her thoughts, tingeing her vision with a muted version of what she used to call red.

And suddenly, his hold on her starts to slip.

Feeling pricks at the tips of her fingers, the soles of her feet. Her teeth gnash together, and she fights the pressure invading her bloodstream, agony splitting her skull under the mental strain.

"No… you… don't!"

With a final shove, she cracks through Amon's iron grip, aiming a powerful kick in his direction. A flurry of air follows the motion, and before she even has the chance to blink, Amon crashes into the window behind him. His dark figure hangs within her line of sight for a heartbeat, and then he plummets out of view.

Korra stares at the spot where Amon had disappeared, her mind sluggish as she tries to register what in Spirits' name she just did. Her side throbs sickeningly, and she flinches as it reminds her of the pain wracking her entire body.

A gloved hand lays itself on her shoulder; she doesn't have to look up to recognize Mako's touch. His fingers slide down to curl around her arm, his other hand resting on the small of her back, and she's never been more grateful for his caring nature. Together they cross the distance to what remains of the window, treading lightly on the shards of glass that litter the floor.

They pause just inside the shattered panes, both their gazes locking on the waters of the bay below. Shouts and protests drift on the breeze from the nonbenders gathered outside the arena, but the pair ignore them, waiting.

Korra's only mildly surprised when a vast geyser breaks the surface of the waves, a now scar-less Amon commanding it from its peak. The outrage of what was once his supporters transforms into alarm, their cries and questions more than enough to prove the man behind the mask is finally beaten.

In an instant, he's vanished beneath his element, a slight distortion in its currents the only indicator of where he is. Mako aims a few fire blasts at Amon's retreating shadow, but Korra simply stands there, a kind of numb relief cascading over her and leaving her slightly dizzy.

It's over. All of the fighting, the plotting, the worrying is done with at last. And for the first time in a long time, she feels like she can actually breathe again.

She glances at Mako when the heat of his bending beside her ceases. His ochre eyes are gentle as they meet hers, and he opens his arms for her without a word. She nestles into his embrace gladly, burying her face in his chest as he pulls her close.

An exhausted sigh tumbles from her lips, and she grips him tighter, her need to feel him there like a physical ache. They may have won the battle, but she's lost something, too, a part of her she'll never be able to get back. Eventually she'll have to come to terms with that, but for now she's content just to be with Mako a while longer, to let him fill the void left in the absence of her bending.