Author's Note: Hey, guys! I'm back to do a one-shot of the pair that his Lara Croft and Jason Brody. Now I am aware that there is one other Lara Croft/Jason Brody fanfiction out there called "Survivor's Dilemma", though I found myself rather interested in writing my own take on such a pairing. This one goes for a lighter romance between the two while also maintaining the idea of two survivors dealing with their respective traumas together. I've worked on this one for quite a while and am interested in reading what you all have to say about it once it gets enough attention. In the meantime, enjoy reading and have a pleasant day!
"I've killed so many people I've lost count. I can't come back from this. I'm a monster. I can feel the anger inside me. But I am still, somewhere inside me, more than that. Better than that."
These were the first words Jason Brody wrote upon his return to America from Rook Island. That horror of a hellhole still haunted his mind day and night and he could do almost nothing to escape the constant memories of that place.
The guns he shot. The blood he spilled. The staged torture of his own brother. Vaas.
Not even countless hours of psychotherapy and medication could repress these memories that continually arose to nag at him no matter how hard he tried to forget. There was just no getting rid of what he had done to survive. Just this morning, he had a flashback nightmare involving the natural powdery drug Citra induced him with in order to make him stay on the island. The fiery representations of his friends and their "opinions" of him replaying in his mind, the idea that he could have been forced to stay where he ultimately didn't want to still bugged him. After all, it's what got Citra, the woman who forced him into greatness, killed in the end. Thankfully, he did not let anything worse happen and resolved to save his friends as he had planned from the start. In spite of his resolve, the fact that his left ring finger was forever missing served as a grim reminder as to what he had been through; with every scar and image still running through his mind, he decided to turn to the one thing he knew could ease the pain: drinking.
As Jason sat in the deficient Los Angeles bar at the counter by himself, he threw another big gulp of whiskey down his throat. Feeling buzzed, the emotions he experienced from his recent nightmare were finally suppressed to where he could at least experience some relief. Another day another drink, Jason thought to himself. When will it fucking end? He didn't dare say anything out loud knowing how ridiculous he might sound to any bystanders. Then again what did it matter?
He was just another day spent in public drinking he used to ease the pain of his experience. His psychotherapists told him he ought to quit that for the sake of keeping his liver and other organs healthy and he did for a while, though he just about abandoned his resolve within the last week. The ounces of beer and whiskey he consumed before that turned to gallons and, before he knew it, he might have even got arrested for another DUI. Not wanting to let the thought of that ruin his alcoholic bliss, he simply let his head thud onto the marble counter-top, his glass tipping ever so slightly to the point where his remaining whiskey might as well have spilled. He was at least responsible enough to prevent himself from getting in trouble again.
"Too much whiskey?" the scruffy-looking bartender in his mid-fifties asked concerningly.
"No… it was just enough… to make me giddy!" Jason said excitedly, feeling the buzz.
"Listen, buddy, I ain't too thrilled when someone goes passing out in my bar. If you wanna blackout, I'd suggest going to the bathroom," the bartender suggested, cleaning his glass ever so carefully.
"And miss out on the action?" Jason continued in a buzzed fashion. "I fucking live for action!"
The bartender looked around, wondering how on Earth he was going to deal with this guy when all he wanted to do was stick around and possibly become an ass of sorts. "Well, you're gonna have at it, why not tune into the TV right next to ya?"
Still conscious enough to at least listen to commands, Jason turned to face the plasma screen television on the adjacent wall. He didn't need a cleared head to know that it was playing international news.
"This just in from international news: survivor of Yamatai in the Dragon's Triangle, Lara Croft," the announcer said as a photo of a tan-skinned beauty somewhere in her twenties showed on screen, "has gone into hiding, refusing to answer questions from the Press on the circumstances of her survival. She was last seen heading back in her residence just outside of London and remained hesitant to answer local paparazzi questions as they swarmed her getting into her car," they continued as they began to show clips of Lara accompanying the announcer's description. "Any news of her current whereabouts remains a mystery."
A survivor from a mysterious island, huh? Jason thought, eyeing the photo and video of the young woman, her brunette hair tied up in a ponytail gleaming in the light of the cameras. What I wouldn't give to meet someone like that. No doubt they would understand the pain I went through.
As of the moment, Jason had nobody, but his therapists to sympathize with. After the trouble he put them all through at Rook Island, Jason began to feel like he didn't have friends anymore. The way he treated them cold and distantly following Grant's death and his dip towards insanity made his relationships with them all rather strained. He was more often than not prone to violent outbursts, taking his anger out on innocent targets such as his friends belongings and, of course, his feelings toward them. This was especially the case with Liza, the one person whom he trusted most.
As if in random thought he sat, a complete stranger meandered toward him at the adjacent bar stool. "One lager. San Miguel," the woman said in an English accent of which intrigued Jason. He looked over to notice her shady appearance; sunglasses masking her eyes and a cloth concealing her hair, which he assumed would really bring out her fair facial features. On top of that, she wore rather dark clothes including a leather jacket. Pretty as she sounded, he wasn't sure about opening his mouth around her. He knew from experience alone that these kinds of people were suspicious.
The woman slammed her currency on the counter-top as the bartender silently took it and handed her the drink of her choice. She opened the cap and took a sip rather smoothly, her movements surprisingly graceful in Jason's eyes. Smacking her lips, she turned to Jason, putting him slightly on edge. "Nothing like another round at the bar, huh?" the woman asked rather openly. Jason said nothing, choosing to remain silent and let her talk. "You know I hear a lot of survivors come here. Survivors of circumstance, survivors of catastrophe. A rather interesting crowd if you ask me."
Clearly she was trying to make conversation with him and as if she knew what he went through. There was nothing holding Jason back now. With this in mind, he mustered up enough strength to let his first words to her come through. "I guess you could say we're hard to come by," Jason responded. "Believe me, what we've been through ain't easy even for us now."
"Tell me about it," the woman followed. "Countless nightmares plague us all and every morning we wake we wish it had all never happened… but then there's nothing we can do to change the fact that it did. Only a few select people understand what I went through. I don't know about you, but then again, what do I know?"
"About me? Girl, I get wanting to drum up conversation and all, but I don't even know who you are," he said calling her out.
With that said, the British woman pulled back her head cloth and raised her sunglasses. "Many tell me I'm just another crazy Croft, but I think they're easily mistaken."
Hearing this and seeing her appearance, Jason's eyes widened like a deer in the headlights. This was the same Lara Croft from the news report talking to him in the flesh - and in America somehow. Somehow, it was almost as if she knew who he was, but in that moment, he didn't care. "You're that survivor from international news, Lara Croft, aren't you?!" Jason almost shouted above the low bar noise.
Putting a finger to his mouth, she shushed him quickly. "I can't let my cover get blown here in America," Lara stated quietly. "I'm hiding out here while the Press dies out about my story back home."
"Oh, right, sorry," Jason apologized immediately. "It's just… wow! I'm feeling speechless right now."
"As am I, but yet here we are talking about living to tell the tales of our gruesome journeys. And you're Jason Brody from Rook Island, aren't you?"
Jason's stomach lurched at the mention of that place. He never knew how far his story got out there. "That shit gets to me a lot. Hell, I've been through so much shit, I hardly even know who I am sometimes," he cursed, putting himself down.
"It'll get to you after a while, believe me I know."
"You do?" Jason inquired.
The two spent their time from then on talking more on what it's like to be a survivor. Everything from survivor's guilt all the way down to the belief that they themselves are to blame for what happened in the end. Yet at its core, Lara seemed to know that, deep down there was more to it than just the aftermath, but this experience itself. Jason, on the other hand, felt ready to share with someone who understood for the first time and had just about prepared a speech in the back of his mind regarding his story. Lara, however, wasn't ready yet and offered him to possibly meet outside the city later on. The two of them exchanged numbers, promising to meet each other the next day before Lara left the bar in her disguise once more. For once in his life, Jason felt like there was hope for his abandoned identity he left at Rook Island.
The next day, Jason and Lara texted about meeting up once more and remained rather vague in their messages in order to prevent any private agencies from tracking their whereabouts. When the time came for them to meet up, they ventured out to a hiking trail just outside the city. Birds chirped in the warm, breezy air and the sun beamed down into the thin cloud cover in a haze that only served to remind Lara of the thick fog that surrounded Yamatai before she cleared the storms. Open tall grass paired with clusters of pine trees made for a scenic experience for the two of them. It was just the right amount of nature and reclusiveness for them to enjoy together the environment for once being rather tame compared to what they experienced.
Without lingering over the details of their surroundings much longer, the two got down to talking real business amongst each other as they casually walked the trail. Jason started off sharing everything he experienced from a survivor's standpoint at Rook Island. Starting with the fateful skydiving trip that landed him, his brothers, and friends within the custody of some crazed maniac pirates lead by Vaas Montenegro, Jason detailed everything about that "rotten hellhole". From his escape and first kill, saving his friends, his journey on the path of the Rakyat - the remaining tataus of which he rolled up his long sleeves to show her - orchestrated by Citra, to his descent towards borderline insanity. Just the idea of reliving his story to somebody new was like a weight off of Jason's shoulders. Already he had pushed away his friends who lived through it with him and it was rather saddening that he couldn't say they were being paranoid about why he acted the way he did.
"Like I said, I don't even know much about who I am anymore with all the shit I've been through," Jason responded to Lara's offhand comment about how she realized one could lose themselves and others in a whirlwind like that. "Everything I did has lead me to believe I'm somehow fucked in the head and I fucking hate it. If it hadn't cost me my girlfriend, I might even be in a better place by now."
Liza was the only person he ever truly loved in his entire life. The way she supported him despite his initial lack of a goal in life was all he ever needed in a girl. And the way she continued to try to help him work through some things on the island despite his rejection of her advances. Already by that point, their relationship had become strained as a result of her mentioning being in touch with her ex so it naturally didn't get much better from their. Where Jason thought they would reconcile upon returning to the mainland, they split up over her being unable to cope with his trauma as well as her own. It was at that point Jason knew he fucked up.
Lara pondered his words for a moment. She could almost grasp the weight of what he went through given her similar chain of events she went through, though her reaction wasn't nearly as harsh as his already seemed. "You used a lot of swear words in your story, you know that?" Lara commented. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, but if I were you, I wouldn't be so hard on myself."
"What makes you think you can't do that to yourself? What have you been through that makes you any different from the insanity of becoming a jungle killer?"
"Well, it starts with a simple theme: choice." Upon Lara's choice of words, Jason's face scrunched.
Lara went on detailing her arrival to Yamatai in the storm of epic proportions, which then lead to her and her crew and friends getting captured by the Solarii Brotherhood and her having to shoot her way out of tough situations. Though her reaction to her first kill was rather on par with Jason's, she admitted to quickly adapting with her survival instincts and tackling every twist and turn on the island with ease. From Roth teaching her the difference between loss and sacrifice to realizing her late father had a point about the existence of the supernatural, Lara eventually conquered all odds and saw her journey as one that was more about self-discovery than that of a path towards insanity. Of course, the impact it had on her wasn't without scars for, like him, she still had nightmares about all she had to do to survive as well as all the potential negative outcomes that could have happened if she didn't act. Regardless, she had a different perspective of her journey than he did of his.
"I suppose you do have a point," Jason commented. "It was a choice I made to rise up and stand against the pirates and liberate my friends from being in harm's way. Still…"
"I understand. Even I feel the same about the fact that I brought the crew of the Endurance to that island. The way I lost them one by one as well as the fact that they can never be brought back. As much as I wish things were different, I always ask myself: what more do I got to lose?"
Lara's words were almost what Jason needed to hear from somebody. She understood much of what he went through and even had fair points to back it up. Maybe with this girl, he thought, things might be easier to take in and understand a little better.
The novelty of interacting with Lara Croft in the flesh had been far from wearing off by the time she and Jason wrapped up conversing for the day. As a matter of fact, the two were that interested in getting to know each other more, but vowed not to push it too far quite yet. Once more, the two promised to meet up again the following day as Lara knew she wouldn't be in hiding for much longer what with all the work she still had left to do for her next expedition. (If only I could be just as adventurous and not have to kill anybody along the way, Jason though silently.) And so, Lara resolved to meet Jason at his own private cabin - located along the same wooded hiking trail - at precisely three in the afternoon. The place was stationed in a picture-esque environment surrounded by pine trees, the scent of which masked the cold, murky fall air that was beginning to settle in around the area. Jason had bought out this place with all the cash he stole and earned back on Rook Island as a means of living apart from society for a change. He was simply discontent living amongst people anymore that he needed to seclude himself in the woods for the moment at least until he began to feel a grander sense of normalcy for himself and others. With Lara, however, things were beginning to morph into a such a reality that he hoped would last a while.
Upon Lara's arrival at the cabin, she examined the place rather dryly with her combat knife drawn in case the place turned out to be surrounded by unwanted guests. Meandering her way up the trail leading straight to the front porch, Lara breathed heavily as she watched the corner leading to the front door. Cautiously, she tiptoed toward the fine carved wooden door hoping not to startle Jason or whoever was inside with her sudden footsteps. Finally, she reached her fisted hand toward the middle of the door and knocked, hands shaking cold and her heart violently pulsating. She could hardly anticipate whoever arrived at the front door in case it was a threat; if it turned out to be Jason after all, though, she would likely feel guilty for drawing her knife.
To her surprise, Jason with his familiar five o'clock shadow and dark slicked up hair ultimately opened the door, he too having drawn his knife in case of an intruder attacking. For a brief moment he bore the same nervous look she did and both let out a breath they didn't realize they were holding in. Together the two of them laughed out loud, lowering their knives back into the respective weapons belts since they realized neither of them were imminent threats to one another.
"Is this your first time arriving at a secluded cabin in the woods?" Jason asked somewhat humorously.
"Can't say it's the only time I've felt uncomfortable approaching the door of one," Lara responded, recalling the times she watched the wrong movies after being taken in by Roth. "I used to think monsters would come out and attack me if I opened the door. Must've watched too many survival horror films when I was still too young for them."
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, there are no monsters here. Just taxidermy from the previous residents that owned this place," Jason reassured her. "Come on in and check out the place!"
Lara followed Jason's wave of his hand and was welcomed into a rather warm, homey environment carved out of oak wood and romantic-looking furniture. In the corner of the living room stood a stuffed jackrabbit on display with a moose head hung over the fireplace. Seeing all this coupled with the warm lighting, Lara swore she was in a cabin resort that only rich folks like herself could rent out for a holiday vacation. She never would have suspected a guy like Jason could afford all this.
From there on, Jason gave Lara the tour of his place, taking in every detail of the warm living room, the fine-decorated kitchen, his cozy bedroom, and finally, the most important room of the house to him, the basement.
"I cleared out this space for daily workout routines to keep myself in check," Jason explained gesturing to the punching bag hanging from the wall. "There wasn't much to renovate here, but I made it work."
"You expect me to believe a story like that after what you went through?" Lara questioned, pursing her lips as if in doubt. It was at this moment Jason took a seat to observe the moment.
"I wouldn't be so doubtful if I were you. Also if I were you, I'd go ahead and give a shot at hitting the bag to see in action what you've got."
"Right then, but… Why me? Why now?" Lara doubted herself for a second.
"You do seem like the physical type so I figured I ought to see for myself if you've still got what it takes after Yamatai."
Hearing this, Lara rolled up her jacket sleeve and curled up her fists, prepared to feel some intense knock back from the bag once she made contact with it. "Okay then… Here it goes!"
Channeling her inner combative side, Lara connected punch after punch with enough fury to send a horse galloping as fast as it could. With each grunt, Lara's hand began to hurt as much as she hit the bag to the best of her ability. Though, it felt good to hit something for a change, she didn't seem to feel like she did whilst she was fighting. Moreover, Jason didn't seem to believe she was really trying.
"Whoa, wait! Hold on! Are you fucking serious?" Jason asked as if he were her coach.
"It's everything Roth taught me," Lara explained sternly. "You got a problem with it?"
"You mean to tell me that Roth showed you nothing, but weak ass shit?" Jason continued. "No fucking way. You ought to channel your hottest white fury, blind rage if you may. You need to fucking show me and that bag that fighting spirit you developed on that fucking island! Here let me demonstrate."
Jason got up from where he sat, cracked his knuckles, and approached the bag, forcing Lara to step aside. With a deep breath, he sucked in every ounce of air possible he could have before unleashing his white hot fury onto the bag like he did most every morning he had another nightmare. His punches connected harder than Lara's and she was shook in awe of just how aggressive he was with his punching tool - even more so than her. He could have easily punched the bag out of its socket in the ceiling, but he didn't. Instead he put all his might forth into hitting the bag for a few more demonstrative punches and grunts before stepping out of the way for the fine young lady.
"Let's see if you can top that!" Jason gave Lara the "go".
Still slightly uncomfortable from his excessive amount of swearing, Lara stepped forward and began to channel her own white hot fury, pouring every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears into her punches. As if now taking out multiple Solarii with a fully modified pickaxe, Lara now felt like she was fighting not just for survival, but someone else's approval.
"Yes, Lara! Hell yeah!" Jason exclaimed, rejoicing at how hard he pushed her to really bring out her survival instincts. With every punch and feminine grunt, Jason applauded at Lara's persistence and determination, the hits she gave sounding like they really hurt. With every ounce of strength she now had in her, she ultimately caused the punching bag to nudge a little with one final punch, which was all Jason needed to see in order to express any ounce of gratitude. Without a word for fear it would make her sound meek, Lara turned and smiled at Jason to which he then smiled back in approval.
Later on, having had enough aggressiveness in the work out/punching bag room, Jason and Lara decided to sit on the couch and drink to their much deserved company with one another. Luckily, Jason had her favorite from the bar, a lager, San Miguel, while he opted for a more a Pale Ale unlike the other day. Though it may not have been much in their friends' eyes, it was a milestone for both of them as they were the first outside of their fellow survivors to share their stories as well as each other. In this moment of bliss, Jason considered himself lucky for, were he not at the bar the other day he wouldn't have ever had the opportunity to meet Lara himself.
The more they talked and laughed, Lara had gulped down enough San Miguel to identify herself as a silly drunk - Jason was just about at the same. This was a state of being she though she would never find herself in as, thanks to Roth as well as her introverted personality even around Sam, she was much more wholesome than this. In the moment, however, it felt like it was worth it to be so in front of her newfound friend.
Despite their silly demeanor, Jason mustered the strength to ask her a serious question. "So, tell me…" he spoke up through slurred speech. "When you first shot and killed… what did it feel like?"
With a giggle Lara said, "It felt like winning…! I didn't like it at first… but then I realized… he had it coming!"
Her and Jason giggled together. The two were inextricably linked in this state and were having as much fun getting along with one another despite his initial suspicion toward her. "That's what I thought too…" Jason continued, head wobbling and on the verge of blacking out. "I may not have liked it at first either, but after a while, it felt like I had purpose. And with you… it feels like I understand myself better! Like it meant something!"
"Don't you see? You and I… are stupidly linked!" Lara said drunkenly with another sip of her glass. Her glass finally empty, her hand dropped loose and she let it drop to the carpeted floor.
"Oh my God… You're right!" Jason set his glass aside on the lamp table next to him. Right then, a sedated Lara landed her head right onto his shoulder, her eyes dimmed from all the lager she drank. "You know, I must say it can't get any better than this!"
"Yeah?" Lara said nearly passed out.
"And if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have seen any worth in killing all those I did in the jungle. You have my thanks, Lara…"
"Yeah?" she repeated.
Jason ultimately let slip the three words his normal and drunk self had begun to feel since growing more attached to her. "I love you, Lara."
Her mouth hung wide open and eyes closed, Lara uttered the same words back to him. "I love you too, Jason."
And that was that. Jason Brody and Lara Croft, two survivors from separate islands brought together by fate were destined to fall in love with one another over their stories, fighting skills, and a couple of drinks to sedate them for the night. Nothing could have felt better for the two of them as Jason allowed Lara to fall asleep on him for much of the night. Before he nodded off, Jason forced himself up laying her down gently on the couch and covered her in the finest knit quilt he inherited from his grandmother. Nothing would distract him as he watched her lie there until he, too, fell asleep sitting up on the adjacent couch.
The next morning, Lara awoke to the sound of birds chirping coupled with the feeling of someone rubbing and smacking their lips against her's. She could've sworn she was making out with her crush from boarding school as if she ever would have passed out on his couch. Then again she remembered passing out drunk with Jason Brody the night before. It was that moment she realized it must have been his lips as she suddenly heard his grunt and opened her eyes. Her eyes widened as she got a glimpse of his face rubbing against her's, his arms caressing her fit figure as he did so.
"Shit, Jason! Get off me!" she exclaimed pushing him off having just now realized she had passed out on his couch.
Revolted, Jason stood up as she gathered the covers to cover herself despite the fact that she was fully dressed. "But Lara, we-"
"I bet you meant to molest me, you bastard!" Lara insulted him.
"Lara, no, it's not like that! I-"
At that moment, Lara stood up covers in hand. "You what? Admit it, this whole time you were trying to get me drunk so I would go to sleep and you could freely do that without my permission!"
"Lara, listen!"
"What am I supposed to listen to? This isn't like me to stay at a guy's house without consent from my friends and-"
"LARA!" Jason bellowed, effectively turning Lara to his attention. "I'm sorry. You were the only one who understood the pain of what I experienced on the island. I didn't think you'd mind a little wake up kiss or two."
"I never said you could do that."
"Last night you said you loved me!"
"I was drunk, okay. Not everyone's as sensible as you are when you're drunk!"
"But I really thought you meant it!"
"Oh yeah, well…" Lara turned away dropping her blanket as Jason looked at her desperately. "I don't know. Look, I'm sorry. I just need some time to think about this."
With that settled, Lara turned to walk out the front door, Jason remaining still as if he didn't know the appropriate course of action. The door shut and Jason sat down on the couch, thinking to himself and not knowing what to think. All he did was plant several kisses on her hardened lips in an effort to let her know he truly loved her like they confessed the night before. He was only trying to make it to first base with her and nothing else so this reaction was rather jolting to his feeble mind caught up in the bliss of the moment. Almost feeling guilty for what he just did spur of the moment, he sighed and wondered if she was ever coming back.
As Lara strode outside Jason's cabin, she sat on the stairs leading to the front porch and sighed, immediately setting her face upon her closed fists. She almost couldn't believe the way she lashed out at Jason for a simple romantic advance - one that almost felt natural given their previous state of affairs. No doubt this was a result of her previous trauma because, soon after she stopped to think, she remembered Vladimir. Vladimir was the same creepy psycho from the island that tried to touch her upon finding her trying to escape. After an intense struggle with his pistol, he was first person whose life she was forced to take in order to save her own. Clearly traumatized by his unsuccessful "romantic advance", it was almost as if she didn't trust Jason to not do the same.
And she now trusted Jason with her life.
After turning over these ideas in her head a while, almost instantaneously she felt guilty for the way she treated him and began to choke back tears she almost didn't realize she was holding back. No doubt Jason was already watching her from his inside front window as she poured out her heart and soul into her guilt-ridden tears. Her tear-stained hands only served to signify the fact that, because of her traumatic experience, she just about threw away the best thing she had going for her since Yamatai. After so much bonding over their personal experiences, physical prowess, and favorite drinks, it was a shame that she would try to end what seemed to be a perfect relationship for her before it even began. The more she cried, the more she wondered if he would ever forgive her.
Soon as her tears and sobbing died down, she sniffled and pulled out her phone. Despite having next to no service around this part of the American woodland, she fiddled through her contacts in an effort to find someone with whom she could possibly find the means to reconcile with Jason who was most likely waiting patiently for her to come back. She found Sam Nishimura's name highlighted in her phone and almost fully considered calling until she remembered she wasn't allowed to see her at the moment. Last she knew, the girl she knew as a best friend had been taken to a mental institution to deal with the raging demon inside her that was the remnants of Himiko's spirit clinging to her soul. Pushing that memory out of her mind, Lara continued scrolling until she found the name of Jonah Maiava. This was the one person whom she knew was in best condition to come to her next expedition and who also had enough fondness of her to help her in tight spots.
Knowing him, he would be the most likely candidate to help her through this.
She ultimately rang him up, waited for the ring dial to finish, and miraculously heard him pick up despite what little signal she had.
"Hello?" Jonah answered.
"Hey, Jonah, it's Lara," she started. "I'm going to be as vague as possible in order to keep from getting tracked, but I need to tell you something: I messed up."
"You messed up? With what?" Jonah questioned.
"Well, there's this guy with whom I grew close with overnight. He and I… we said we loved one another. Only by the next morning he made an innocent romantic advance and I… I didn't take it very well."
"You didn't? Why not?"
"It's trauma, Jonah. I was reminded of my horrible kidnapping on the island wherein the man who found me tried to… assault me for his own pleasure. And so, I took my anger out on him, accusing him of trying to do the same thing. I don't know, Jonah. Maybe I'm not ready for this yet," Lara finished, being rather down on herself. Surely this must have been a lot for Jonah to take in, but it was nothing he couldn't handle as far as she knew him.
"Look, Little Bird. I know that island experience was brutal, but I wouldn't let it get to you and the relationships you make to benefit yourself. If this guy means a lot to you now, I'd tell him you're sorry and that you let a prior experience affect your perception of you two. If there's anything I know about you, it's that you're ready for anything. It's like Roth said, 'You're a Croft.'"
Those last words Jonah uttered really resonated with her. Of course, she had only told him Roth's last words in the aftermath of his death, but the impact they left she still felt nonetheless.
"Well, Jonah, maybe you're right. I shouldn't let my trauma define me. It's just hard for me to cope with without somebody around, that's all."
"Hey, well this guy may not have had the same experience as you, but, if you trust him that much, maybe he can help you too," Jonah affirmed. If only he knew everything they had talked about the since meeting up a few days ago.
Lara looked over her shoulder and saw what looked to be Jason Brody's head peeking around the corner of the inside window before quickly scurrying away in hopes that he didn't see her. He was waiting for her. If now was her moment, she ought to take it. "I suppose you're right. Right now, I may as well go and apologize to him. It should be quick and painless."
"Atta, girl, Little Bird! Well, you just let me know how that goes when you get back, okay?"
"Will do, Jonah! Farewell!" Lara finished before hanging up. That settled she strode back inside to apologize to Jason who was clearly waiting for her to make up her mind.
With a creak of the door, Jason's head shot up from his neutral thinking position to stare over and see that Lara had entered back into his home to tell her something. No longer needing to toss over whether or not he ought to feel guilty, Jason got up from his seat to look Lara in the face as she spread a look of guilt across her's.
"Jason… I'm sorry," Lara started rather sincerely. "The trauma of… that place has me rather distrusting of people at times and… I never should have taken that anger out on you. I hope you can forgive me."
"Hey, you and I have both lived through some fucked up shit so I completely understand. You want the truth? Well, for one, you're forgiven. And two, I almost didn't trust you by your shady appearance when we first met at the bar. I'm so glad I didn't go with my gut instinct to get up and walk away."
"Well, in that case I must say I'm thankful to have met you too," Lara said approaching Jason. "Thank you, Jason."
The two wrapped their arms around each other, embracing one another like the lovers they had grown to be overnight. With a simple smile the two reconciled, sealing the deal with a passionate kiss of which Lara was now grateful to plant on his hardened lips. She might never get over the trauma of her previous experience on Yamatai just as he was likely to never get passed the brutality that was his days on Rook Island. But together, the two of them could handle each other's burdens as long as they kept in touch once Lara headed back to Southern England. Believing this, Lara and Jason pulled apart to get a good look at one another.
"Everyone, man or woman, has their scars. Scars that hurt and burn. Scars that no matter how much we ignore them, they never go away. But I'm certain we can hold each other strong in spite of that. Because, deep down, we are more than that. Better than that," Jason said inventing a new quote made partially out of his first words since returning to the mainland. To this Lara smiled, promising never to let go.
Jason and Lara spent the next few days doing more of the same with each other. Between walking the trail further than they had before, fake fighting each other in physical combat, and making out while drunk, Lara and Jason made the most of their remaining time together all while keeping their boundaries secure and staying out of the public eye. When time came for Lara to leave, she bid him farewell with a rather tame kiss on the lips promising once more to keep in touch and continue to bear each other's burdens. As far as she knew, no circumstance could ever change his view of him.
And that was that. Jason watched as Lara exited his homestead for the last time, taking off in her transport and riding off into the sunrise like the hero she was. Hopefully, this wouldn't be the last time the two of them encountered one another.
Just as fast as his thoughts snapped to the idea of checking his laptop computer, which he hadn't done now for several days, Jason opened his laptop to find a new email from a mysterious client calling himself "Head of Trinity". Curious, Jason opened the email to read the following:
Jason Brody,
News has spread about your days as "Snow White" on Rook Island. The guns you shot, the blood you spilled, the people you saved; all that has become common knowledge thanks to the efforts of the CIA leaking your story to our networks. And so, here at Trinity, we seek to hire guns and mercenaries as a means to spread our cause across the globe. And we offer a large sum of money to those who are willing to cause destruction in our name. Are you willing to join us in spreading the greater good in the name of God?
Sincerely,
Dr. Pedro Dominguez
Jason skimmed over the email, making note of the pointed insignia, which reminded him distinctly of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Though he did not believe in this personally, the idea of a large sum of money to blow stuff up actually appealed to him more than anything. He reached for the keyboard to type out the words, "Tell me more."