Author's Note: Originally, this had been posted as part of the Winter Amorra Week collection, but I was never able to finish it off because of school and then because I lost all my half written chapters when my computer crashed. So I decided to delete that and just post this as an individual one shot. I guess this can sort of be looked at as an alternate ending to my other fic Ode to the Broken People. Lastly, this was inspired by a fanart [ niko-laii tumblr com / post / 36265099852 / some-amorra-feels-for-tiger-wow-i-did-some ]. Go on enjoy and don't kill me.

Disclaimer: If I owned this show or any of the characters, Book 2 would have been out over a year ago.


Endgame

When the sounds of the last explosions die away, everything is still. The only sound breaking through the silence is his breathing. Ragged. Forced. He takes a look around at what is left of the building. If he didn't know any better, he would be convinced that he is the only one there. But he knows that there a bodies under the chunks of rock. He knows that there are the blank stares of both his followers and those who opposed him caked in dirt. Guilt begins to burrow itself in his chest and he doesn't understand why. He thought he had long come to terms with the knowledge that not everyone would come out of this alive. But Amon is wrong.

A short distance away, a boulder rolls a few feet and uncovers a body. Amon looks away, not wanting to attach himself to a lost soul. He turns back when the body grunts. The person slowly drags themselves off the pile of rocks and onto more sturdy ground. It is when the person kneels, heavily panting, that is made clear to him that this is the Avatar. His breath hitches when he takes in her state. As Korra begins to stand up, the last remnants of her shirt fall off. Her pants are so worn down that there are holes at her knees and hip.

Korra tries to stand up straight but clutches at her stomach in pain. After another second, she falls to the floor on all fours, in a coughing fit. Amon battles with himself. Should he try to leave while she is down or make himself known? She is weak enough that it would take almost no energy to remove her bending. With that, the city will fall into his hands and no more have to die in the name of the Revolution.

Amon patiently waits for her to look another way so that he can finally leave. Korra gives a tired sigh and rolls onto her back dejectedly. Here is his perfect chance, but Amon is struck dumb. This isn't like the Avatar. She never gives up. Yet, there she is, the world falling apart around her and she is too weak to even be awake. His limbs begin to move of their own accord and he soon finds himself standing over her. She doesn't give any hint that she notices his presence.

Amon sits on his heels with Korra's head at his knees. Still moving outside of his own command, his hand ghosts over her face to push away her hair. It has been so long since she has felt that kind of affection. Korra flutters her eyes open. She glances up at him only to find his mask instead of the face she is so familiar with. Almost immediately, she shuts her eyes and turns her head to the side. "Not you."

He knows exactly what she means. Working with shaking fingers, Amon turns into Noatak in the lapse of a few seconds. Noatak carefully pulls her body so that her head can rest on his lap. He winces at her cries of pain.

When Korra finally turns to look at him, there is a thin trail of blood coming out of her mouth. He almost says something when he sees the broken smile she gives him. "Noa." With a great amount of work, Korra lifts her hand to bring it to his face. He leans over to make the distance shorter. Amon or Noatak, whoever at this point, could never forget the touch that the Avatar leaves on him. This might be her in front of him, but that hand on his cheek can't possibly be hers. It's too cold.

He can feel himself starting to fall apart at the sight of the Avatar – his Korra – so different, so broken. Noatak clamps onto the wrist at his cheek for support. She responds by grabbing his other wrist with her free hand.

So here they are. Hell has broken loose. The world beyond the walls is probably not the one either of them saw when they walked in hours ago. Republic City has become the opposite of what it was meant to be. Both of them can hear the sound of rock and rubble being moved as the outside tries to break inside, in search for survivors. But they both wait for the sun to set on their moment.

Something inside Noatak finally clicks. "You should heal yourself." Although his voice is frantic and full of worry, he makes no attempt to pry himself away in search for water. His heart all but stops beating when Korra slowly shakes her head.

"Too tired. Failed. I…failed. It has to…end with…me." A shudder runs up through Korra and into Noatak. It crashes through him over and over again, making him shake. "It's time for a n-new…Avatar."

He wants to say the contrary. He wants to tell her how, even though it didn't work out, she had changed him beyond what she could understand. He wants her to know how he's not ready to let her go even though he kept her at a distance. He's not ready for a new Avatar. The tone underneath all those words is what stops him from saying anything. A small part of him knows that she's telling the truth by the shadow of wisdom that rings despite her cracked voice. Noatak wants to ignore that part of him.

"I tried…my best to…heal you. I guess some scars…are too deep."

The hand near his face drops and lands lightly on her cheek. His thumb rubs underneath her eye in hopes that the contact will pass on the messages he can't put into words.

"You know, even after everything, I…still love you." The last word leaves Korra in a low breath. Noatak sees as the light leaves her eyes. Three seconds ago, she was looking at him. Now, he is looking at an empty shell. He leans down to press his forehead against hers, still not allowing the sobs to overtake him.

"This isn't what I meant with goodbye."