"Lara! Sit. Down." It was a command, said with such force that the young woman almost immediately obeyed. The fact that her knees, visibly wobbling, were supporting her on momentum and force of will alone did not help.
"I can-" She placed her hands on the side of their repaired craft, but found she did not even have the strength to push.
"I've got this, little bird." Lara did her best to avoid collapsing straight onto the sand. She hauled herself into the small boat as Jonah shoved them finally off the cursed shore.
Obeying Reyes' command at last, Lara found herself collapsing onto the back of the small boat, near where she had laid Sam. The young American was soundly and deeply asleep. Lara reached out by instinct to check that she was, in fact, still breathing. She looked far too peaceful to be a living survivor of what Lara just witnessed. Nevertheless, Lara found the evidence she sought and, satisfied, pulled herself back into a more comfortable position, and closer to her roommate. She did not trust herself to lie down yet - she wanted to witness this next part, just in case - so she propped her battered feet up as best she could, and came to sit next to Sam's head. She could not stand to be farther from her friend than she had to be. She did not think she would be able to let herself lose sight of Sam for some time.
As the loud relic of an engine cranked to life and the wind picked up around them Lara finally realized that it was true. They were leaving. As Reyes navigated them around the last hulking shipwreck surrounding the bay - with no sign of the terrible and mystic storms that had caused such ruin - it was only open sea before them. They had escaped. And though the evening light was beautiful, Lara did not look back to see the island they left behind.
In the blessed silence that followed each of the survivors marveled at their freedom and made their own first attempt to cobble together the broken pieces of the last few days. It was almost impossible to believe that it had only been a few days, but apparently it had.
Lara could not believe it. But she did. It was real. Himiko. The Sun Queen. Immortal souls. Unexplainable storms. The Storm Guard. It was all real. The legends, the myths, the stories her father told her to put her to sleep - or keep her up - at night. They were all real. She could not believe how wrong she had been.
She could feel it, like a physical sensation, an absolute surety. That this was just the tip of the iceberg. That there was more. Her father had always taught her that all legends were based on grains of truth, but he had disagreed with her and with the rest of the world on just how big those grains might be. This wasn't a grain, though, this was the whole stalk, field, and plow. And Lara knew at once that this was what her father knew, had known all along, and this is what he had died for.
Richard Croft was not just a name in archeology, he was the name. The name of fame and infamy, a name she had been trying to both live up to and avoid her entire life. But there was no avoiding this anymore. She wished she could tell him. She wished she could bury herself in his arms. She wished she could ask his forgiveness for all of her doubt, and that together they could see just how far the rabbit hole would go.
Lara could not have her father back. She could not even have Roth. But the rabbit hole was still waiting, and Lara knew that whatever came next, she could never leave it again. Her mind raced, listing the other myths, the other stories and legends that everyone knew must have been false. The Fountain of Youth, the Holy Grail, the gods of old, the Amazons, Atlantis, the Nephylim, who knows, even great bloody Dragons might be real. After what Lara had just witnessed, the actual resurrection of the dead, or at least the banishment of death from a body centuries past its last breath, she was ready believe it all. Her critical mind had not failed her, of course. The Truth needed testing, needed witnessing, needed to be found. But she would find it. There was no more hiding from it, and no more hiding it from her.
A gentle squeeze on her wrist brought Lara back to the present. Her gaze at last breaking from the golden sunset, she looked down to see Sam, her eyes just cracking open, taking Lara's hand from where it rested and wrapping it around her own. Lara returned the comforting hold, and looked over her friend. They did not need any words.
Sam was, to put it simply, the most gorgeous thing Lara had ever seen. Despite having been kidnapped and nearly burnt at the stake, and having an ancient magical spirit assert itself into her own body and mind, Sam was miraculously unscathed, physically at least. Lara was sure she had bruises underneath the simple white dress that adorned her slim shoulders, from the shipwreck if from nothing else. Her skin was far from clean, and Lara almost laughed to think what Sam's reaction would be if she could see her own hair. But breaking through all of that was the photographer's ghost of a smile. The girl was not even strong enough the stand and walk down to the boat, but she was strong enough to, with one tiny smile, carry Lara the whole way. Lara would not have gotten off of the island without Sam, she knew that. Himiko aside, if it had all been the same but not Samantha Nishirumi, there was a real chance that Lara would have given up, or even if she defeated the sun queen, would have allowed herself to simply collapse on the mountain, her deed done, her dying prayer that at least the others would make it home alive. But with Sam Lara had a goal, and a reason to come home.
The sun has set fully now, but the reality had somehow not fully sunk in. The reality that they were four stranded survivors, with only the gear on their backs, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, without any navigational gear or even signaling lights, had definitely not sunk in. But even as it verged on her mind, Lara's body made the definite decision that these were all problems for her fellow passengers to worry about.
She did not realize that she had closed her eyes until she jerked awake and found it to be much later than it should have been.
"Go to sleep, Lara. I've got the helm." She heard Reyes say. Beside her, Sam gave the same message, pulling gently on her hand. At long last, Lara laid down. As she did, each and every fiber of her being suddenly and insistently reminded her of every single fight, fall, and fire she had been through in the last few days. Lara struggled to hold in the small gasps these reminders drew from her as she eased herself down next to Sam. She placed a hand on the worst injury she had sustained, her impaled side. It was warm. Infected. This set off red flags and alarms in Lara's mind, but the dark fog of sleep was stronger, and it was only a vague worry that held her as consciousness finally left her. Perhaps she would die from the wound. Perhaps that was alright.