I do not own the Tomb Raider franchise, obviously, or this ending would be in the film!

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Cautiously, but almost casually, Lara opened her bedroom door to identify the intruder. The room was dark, and she stood in the doorway for several long moments, allowing her eyes to adjust to the lack of light. After a few moments, the darkness became less dense and she could see. What she saw, almost took her breath away in a fashion most unusual for her. After saving Alex from the Illuminati, he had left her again before they'd even made it home to Croft Manor.

They'd spent several nights of passion together and many moments she could not - and would not - forget, but she had assumed it for a lie when he said he'd be back before she knew it. He had promised her, as they parted ways, to come back to her, and she had not believed him. After all, why would she? Men like him lied, and women like her didn't need them in the first place and so didn't care. She had gone on by herself, barely even regretting his absence - more than capable of living her own life, without his presence in it.

Now, returning home after leaving Terry dying in the cradle of life, here he was. Alex had spoken about how they could make a go of it, live together, and she had considered it. She would not have, not with most men, being who she was, but he knew her. He knew what she was capable of, perhaps that was even why he loved her - if he ever did - in the first place. He knew her better than almost anyone, and yet here he was, deeply asleep in her bed, looking completely and utterly like he belonged there. Lying there waiting for her, making any doubt about him - about them - move from a near certainty, to a far more distant - though not impossible - concept. Time would tell, doubtlessly, on those accounts, like it always did.

Slowly, Lara closed the door and entered the large room. When Alex had spoken of their future, she had certainly enjoyed the mental image he painted her of him in her bed, but it was even more enjoyable now, seeing him actually sleeping there. He looked so innocent, despite all she knew to the contrary, while sleeping so peacefully.

She found herself remembering his face as they climbed up the clockwork together - so much more capable than any other man in the room - before he got a knife in his chest for the trouble. She remembered his face then, too, and - in an emotional move most unlike her - felt compelled to touch his face at that. He mumbled slightly in his sleep at her movement, but he did not wake.

Her eyes fully accustomed to the light now, Lara looked around. With more manners than she actually expected from the man, Alex had seemingly not touched or disturbed many - if any - of her possessions. A worn bag which was obviously his was open on the floor, and there was a pile of books which she did not recognise on the desk. They could sort all of that out, tomorrow. Together.

When he had left, she had not thought they'd ever have any of that, any of this, but his presence here now showed her differently. She was stronger than anyone, and she did not, in any way, need a man to take care of her, even less to function. Maybe it was the necessary death of Terry making her so unusually emotional. She didn't in any way need Alex in her life, no, but oh, she admitted to herself, as she slipped into a warm bed for the first time in what felt like eternity; she wanted him there.

Aaaand here's the return of the fluff! I am not even sorry.

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