AN: Oh my god you guys, I love you all :D Thank you so much for the reviews! I'm uploading this chapter pretty late tonight. I've caught a pretty bad cold and can't focus at all :( I tried.

Wicked Intentions: I have to say, the idea of Noatak being an artist actually comes from an Amorra fic I'm reading now, called The Castaway. It's really good, and it's actually what inspired this story as well! If you haven't read it yet, you should-it's under my favorites on my profile, go check it out! And I'm not at all discouraged by the smaller fanbase Amorra has-I'm actually surprised this fic is getting the attention it is, as I mentioned last chapter.

Red: Haha, thanks for the cookie! I love chocolate chip! *noms* The problem with that, though: I can't draw. At all. I'm trying, but I still suck at it. And none of my friends watch LOK, nevermind ship Amorra *forever crying* I was worried that I put too much Korra/Tarrlok in the last chapters. I imagine that, in a fic where both brothers survive the explosion, Korra and Tarrlok could potentially be really good friends. That's the route I'm hoping to take with this fic. And yes. Much bickering :P

Anonymous: Don't worry about getting too talkative! I love hearing what you guys have to say! I often find myself rambling, too. :) Once again, yes. Several quarrels. That's one of my favorite parts of this chapter, seeing the characters interact. And I do like Mako. I feel like his character has so much potential, but the writers haven't really done what they could with him. He's so much better in season three, though.

Sorry for my rambling. Enjoy :)

The next time Korra finds Noatak, she has to leave the room at first to recompose herself. When she re-enters the room, she takes a good long look to let the image before her sink in before she moves to confront him. Noatak sits cross-legged on the floor with his back against the foot of the bed. A small cup of water sits in front of him, but most of the water is actually in the air; it seems like their guest has just remembered that he's a waterbender. "Really?" Korra asks incredulously. "You've been awake for two weeks and you're just now remembering that you can waterbend?"

Noatak glances up at her. "Hello, Korra," he greets civilly. If Korra didn't know any better, she'd say he almost sounds friendly. "Apologies for not confronting you with this information sooner; I've been a little… preoccupied with a few things recently." His voice sounds a bit edgy, but Korra doesn't feel like questioning him.

Tarrlok is sitting up on his bed, watching his older brother on the floor. "How come he can still bend and I can't?" he enquires.

"You were in far worse condition than I was," Noatak reminds him. "Perhaps your lack of bending is a result of that."

"Then why haven't I gotten mine back yet when you have?" Tarrlok continues.

"Temporary bending loss?" Noatak suggests.

Korra blinks. "Is that even a thing?"

Noatak shrugs. "Perhaps. I've heard of stranger things." He doesn't elaborate. Korra lets the subject drop.

"Speaking of temporary things, when is that prosthetic arm going to show up, Korra?" Tarrlok asks curiously.

"It should get here within the next week," Korra informs him. "It sounds like they've done a good job with it, too."

"I hope so."

Korra is right—Tarrlok's metal prosthetic forearm arrives in six days. The arm looks like something out of a history book. Korra remembers reading about Aang's adventures and someone dubbed Combustion Man hired to kill them. He'd had a metal arm capable of working like a real arm: he could grab things, write with it, and other small functions. Korra wonders if Tarrlok's prosthetic will be as useful as Combustion Man's.

For the most part, it is. Despite lacking the fine motor skills of his biological arm, Tarrlok appears to be able to pick things up and point and such. The movements are a little jerky and out of control, but as time moves on, he gains more and more control over it. He also doesn't seem to know his own strength—he's broken at least two bowls and three cups by accident. Korra has no idea how the thing works. She doesn't really care to find out.

"Look on the bright side," she reminds him while he's practicing with it, "maybe now you can finally stand a chance against me when we arm wrestle." Tarrlok shoots her a nasty look, but Korra can hear Noatak snickering behind her. She turns to him. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

"More than you will ever know," Noatak confirms. He really does like the arm more than Tarrlok does; it gives him something more complicated and interesting in that damn sketchbook of his.

Korra sits at the edge of the beach, her knees drawn up to her chest, watching the sun rise. The bay is very quiet this morning. There's practically no wind, just a slight breeze that is just cooling enough to settle Korra's nerves. The gentle lapping of the waves against the shore is extremely calming. Korra closes her eyes, allowing herself to drift off a little bit.

"Do you mind if I join you?" a deep, rusty voice asks from behind.

Korra opens her eyes again and turns, seeing Noatak standing about twenty feet away. She hadn't even heard him approach. Korra shrugs. "I don't care," she responds. "Not my beach." His barely audible footsteps move closer to her side, lowering himself gently to the ground. Korra rolls her eyes in exasperation when he pulls out the sketchbook. "You're never apart from that damn thing, are you?"

Noatak glances at her out of the corner of his eye. "Of course not," he confirms. "What if a situation arises and I need it for something?"

"What could possibly happen—here of all places—that would make you need it?"

"You never know," he replies. He flips the book open, skimming over several pages filled with sketches and detailed drawings. Korra stares in amazement; those are really good. When he gets to a blank page, Noatak pulls a pencil out of somewhere and starts sketching something.

Korra looks away. "Where's Tarrlok?" she asks curiously.

Noatak nods in the direction of the temple. "He is still asleep."

"And what are you doing up at this hour? Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I could ask you the same question," he counters.

Korra pauses. "I was thinking." It's a flimsy excuse and she knows it. Noatak seems to know it, too, but he doesn't ask any more. Korra looks at the water and concentrates, twirling her right hand a bit. A steady stream of water rises from the surface, catching the rosy light of the sun and scattering it. She flicks her wrist slightly, forming the water into a tiny sphere, and beckons it toward her. At it reaches above her hand, Korra freezes it into a ball of ice, causing it to drop from the air and land in her open palm. She holds it close to her face, inspecting it.

The sphere melts suddenly, flooding Korra with a wave of water. She utters a noise that sounds like something between a squeak and a shriek and throws herself upwards, holding her arms out to shake them off. The ice cold water puddles at her feet, soaking her boots. Still sitting on the ground, Noatak smirks and purposely doesn't look up. "Did you—" Korra sputters. "Did you just—did you really just do that?!"

Noatak looks at her. "Why, I'm offended, young Avatar," he denies. "How could you think I would do such a thing?"

"You little…" Korra cuts herself off and rips the sketchbook from Noatak's hands. He reaches for it, but Korra holds it out of his reach and swings her arm around, bending a stream of water directly at his face. The force of the blast is enough to knock him on his side, and while he's occupied, Korra takes off running in the other direction along the beach, still with the sketchbook in hand.

Korra runs for a long way before a tendril of water snakes around her ankle and trips her, sending her falling face down on the sandy ground. Before she can get up, the sketchbook is ripped from her grip, and Korra sees Noatak dashing away. She scrambles to her feet. "Get back here, you little asshole!" Korra screams after him before sprinting after him, pulling water from the bay and launching it at him.

He blocks the blow easily, launching another stream right back at her. "You have to catch me first, Korra!" he challenges. Korra dodges the water, but he's already darting away. Damn, for a man of his body shape, he sure moves fast.

"Oh, don't you try me!" Korra warns, bringing more water to her hands. "You won't like the end of it!" She fires quick shots of water, hoping to catch him off guard or stun him. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't work. Korra then tries what he'd used to bring her down and shoots a tendril of water, wrapping it firmly around his waist and giving it a fierce yank for good measure. Korra assumes that, if he was in good health, it would not have brought him down. It his current state, however, he comes tumbling to his knees, as far from his usual grace as he could get. "Ha!" Korra shouts at him, catching up and slowing to a stop by his side. "You wanted me to catch you? Did you think I wouldn't be able to? Well, I did!" Korra does a small victory dance, hopping around Noatak's downed form.

"Korra?" a voice echoes in the still dawn air, and Korra pauses immediately. She recognizes the voice, but it's not one she'd expected to hear anytime soon.

"Shit," Korra mutters under her breath. "Shit, shit, shit."

Noatak stares up at her, confused. "Do you know who that is?"

Korra glances back at him. "Yeah, I know who it is," she confirms reluctantly, "but I want him nowhere near this island for as long as possible." Noatak still looks confused, but Korra starts running back up the beach in the direction of the voice.

As she reaches the top of the slope, three figures come into view. Korra raises her arm in greeting. "Hey, guys!" she calls.

"Korra!" Mako repeats happily, jogging forward to meet her in a hug. He doesn't seem to care that she's soaking wet and freezing cold. Instead, he takes her face in his hands and kisses her enthusiastically. Korra kisses him back happily, trying not to think. It doesn't last long before he pulls away and looks her in the eye. "We haven't seen you in months! What's been going on?"

"Korra!" Korra can't respond to Mako's question before she's tackled to the ground in a hug by Bolin. "Oh my gosh, Korra, we've missed you so much! I've been trying to get Mako to visit you for the past month, but he's always been like, No, we've gotta give her time and let her invite us on her own time."

"He's so polite," Korra snarks, slightly out of breath. "Bolin, I love your hugs, but I would like to breathe, if that isn't too much to ask." Bolin makes a noise of surprise and indignation before heaving himself to his feet, extending a hand to help her up. Korra gratefully takes it.

While their hands are still connected, Pabu peeks out of Bolin's shirt and scuttles along their arms, coming to rest on Korra's shoulders and wrapping around her neck loosely. He's making a crooning noise that reminds Korra of purring. Bolin laughs. "Even Pabu's glad we can hang out again! He missed you, too!"

"Aww," Korra coos, stroking Pabu's soft head. "Well, I missed him, too."

"What, no love for your best girl friend?" Korra glances at Asami, whose arms are stretched wide for a hug.

Korra facepalms. "How could I forget my best friend?" She barrels into Asami, nearly knocking the thinner girl over. "How's the new head of Future Industries doing nowadays?"

Asami steps from the hug, smiling and looking Korra in the eye. "We started out with a bit of a rough patch," she admits. "We lost a bit of business cred after… everything."

"Ah," Korra murmurs, understanding. "But you got back on your feet after that?"

Asami nods. "Yeah, we're back up and running now, pretty smoothly if I must say so." She looks so proud of herself. Korra feels proud of her, too. She really deserves it.

"If you don't mind me asking," Mako breaks in, "why are you soaking wet, Korra? You must be freezing!"

"I'm from the Water Tribe, I don't freeze," Korra objects stubbornly. "And I was in the middle of a… sparring session." She hesitates, not really wanting to bring the subject up.

Mako doesn't seem to notice. "Who're you sparring with? It seems a little early for any of Tenzin's kids to be awake yet."

"What are you three even doing here?" Korra evades, scanning them. "Aren't you here a little early yourselves?"

Bolin sulks slightly. "We wanted to get here really early to surprise you," he tells her, "but you're already awake so…" He trails off, fiddling with his fingers awkwardly.

"You still surprised me, in case you didn't realize," Korra reminds him.

"Yeah, but it wasn't the same."

Mako is peering at something over Korra's shoulder. "Who is that, Korra?" he asks skeptically. Korra feels her heart sink several feet. It's somewhere down near her feet. Noatak steps up to stand by Korra's side, but doesn't speak. He simply glances at Korra out of the corner of his eye, keeping his cool. Korra returns the look regretfully. This is not going to end well. Mako's expression flickers between recognition and confusion; he's starting to catch on.

Korra sighs. There's no point in delaying the inevitable. "This is Asami, Bolin, and my boyfriend Mako," Korra introduces, gesturing to each of her friends as she lists them off. "Guys, this is Noatak."

None of them speaks. Korra feels the tension multiply tenfold.

Trying to break the awkwardness, Noatak extends his hand politely. "A pleasure to meet you," he greets, his voice smooth and rusty as always. None of them take it.

"You," Mako snarls lowly. Korra glances at Noatak, but is surprised to see him keeping himself impressively calm. He stares down Mako with a blank face while the firebender sounds almost ready to murder him. "You lying, selfish bastard—"

"Okay!" Korra interjects loudly, stepping between the men. "Okay, enough. Can I talk to you three for a second?" She shoots Noatak a look. "Alone?" she emphasizes desperately. Noatak takes the hint, nods, and quickly excuses himself. Korra waits for him to be out of earshot before turning back to Mako. "What the hell was that?"

"What the hell was that?!" Mako counters furiously. "What in Spirits' name is he doing here?"

"…who is he?" Bolin interjects awkwardly. "The name sounds familiar… is he a friend of yours, Korra?" Mako actually scoffs at that. Korra blinks at him in confusion before she remembers that, of the four of them, Bolin and Asami had never seen Amon's face under the mask. Mako had been the only one there with her that day. As a result, Asami and Bolin have no idea what Noatak looks like. With the additional scars, she admits to herself that, even if they had seen him, they still probably wouldn't have recognized him. Mako didn't, at least.

Korra opens her mouth to respond, but Mako beats her to the punch. "Bolin, that's Amon."

"What?!" Bolin exclaims. He throws his hands up to cover his face, his eyes peeking out from between is splayed fingers. "I thought he and Tarrlok were, you know… dead."

"I thought so too," Korra explains, "but when they showed up here nearly dead anyways—"

"Wait a minute," Mako interrupts. "Are you implying that Tarrlok is here too?" Korra quickly snaps her mouth shut; she's said too much. "He is, isn't he?" Mako throws his arms up into the air. "Korra, do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into?"

"Hold up there, Mako," Korra snaps. "Do you really think I want them here anymore than you do? They're just staying here while they heal. When they're better, they're going straight to trial."

"They should be in prison right now!" Mako objects. "I'd have thought you'd be the one kicking their asses in there the moment they show up! They must've been here for weeks by now!"

Bolin blinks in surprise. "Korra, is that why you haven't been talking to us recently?" he asks quietly, carefully. "Because you've got the enemy here?" His voice is so unlike the Bolin she knows. It freaks her out.

"I'll bet it is," Mako confirms for him. "Amon seems to be up and moving around. You said they're here 'til they heal. Well, he doesn't look much worse for wear. So what are they still doing here?"

Korra glares at him. "They're healing in a different way!"

"In what way, Korra? Enlighten me, please. I'd love to know."

"I mean, they're not exactly right in the head at the moment."

Mako laughs bitterly. "I think we've known that for a while now, Korra!"

Korra groans in irritation. "I mean they can't remember anything, Mako! Happy now?"

Mako pauses, simply staring at her. His face goes completely blank. "What do you mean, they can't remember anything?" he questions.

"I mean exactly what I said. They don't remember a single thing about the Equalists. In Tarrlok's case, even more. It's not exactly a fair trial if they can't defend themselves for crimes they don't remember committing."

Bolin snorts. "Wouldn't you have had them taken in anyways?" he asks. "Seems like the 'Korra' thing to do in this situation." Korra glares at him. He promptly shuts up.

"If I may place my opinion," Asami interjects at last, "I think Korra's doing the right thing."

Korra stares at her, dumbstruck. "You do?" she mumbles dumbly.

Asami nods. "Bringing them to trial would be meaningless. You're right, it wouldn't be fair. An unfair trial is declared null and void, even in cases as extreme as this. And if what you say is true, that they really can't remember anything, then the entire thing would just be one big, messy waste of time. No one would want to go through all that again, would they?" Korra makes a mental note to give Asami the biggest hug of her life later. It helps occasionally to have a friend that knows so much about business and trials and such.

"You see?" Korra says, gesturing to Asami. "Asami's right. We can't legally do anything until they regain their memories. Whenever that may be," she adds on to the end.

Mako still looks skeptical. "Does Chief Beifong know anything about this?"

"Of course not," Korra snaps. "And we plan to keep it that way for now. No one breathe a word of this to anyone, you hear?" She glares at all three of them. "If I hear anything about this in the newspaper or on the radio, there'll be hell to pay, mark my words."

Bolin holds his hands up in surrender. "I won't tell anyone about this. You have my word, Korra," he pledges.

"Mine, too," Asami agrees, nodding.

Korra smiles at her friends, then turns to her boyfriend. Mako still looks stubborn. "What about you, Mako?" she asks quietly. "Will you keep this a secret? For me?" She pulls her puppy-dog eyes, the ones she uses to get Mako to do whatever she wants him to do.

Mako groans in defeat. "Fine," he concedes in the end, crossing his arms stubbornly. "I'll keep your little secret. But don't expect me to be best friends with those two," he reminds her quickly. "I'm not happy about any of this."

Korra grins anyways. "That's all I needed to hear." She tries to give him a hug, and at first he doesn't unfold and holds his statuesque stubbornness, but in the end, he caves and wraps his arms around her shoulders. Korra leans into his warmth, sighing in relief, and trying to get her mind off of everything else.