Disclaimer: I do not own Tomb Raider or anything else that anybody in the known universe could sue me for. I own nothing.
AN: Sorry for such the long wait. I'm sorry to say I briefly ran out of ideas for this, as my muse was preoccupied with other stories. But, here it is, in time for Valentine's day, although this isn't the happiest one. And I have a few more chapters in mind for this now, so...rejoice, faithful readers!
Silence
Silence is a terrible thing. With time it can erode bridges; slowly, painfully create a divide between people. One that can never be recovered...
She never spoke about what happened in Egypt. For a while she distanced herself from everyone. Including Alister. He couldn't shake the feeling that the woman he pulled out of the gutter in Paris was not the same woman whose loss he'd nearly died for. They exchanged words. Few, far between words. Almost all of them work related.
He knew he promised he'd wait. He kept telling himself that she just needed more time. But he was an archeologist, a scientist like any other and driven by a need to know. They were in the library, discussing Incan ruins with a casualness that was like ice compared to the way they had been...once.
Alister didn't know what came over him. "What happened in Egypt?" He'd meant to stop there, but continued despite himself. "What happened in Paris? Who was it that died?" He was out of control now, and begging, "Please, Lara. I can help you."
Her reaction was colder than he'd ever thought her capable of, "'I can help you'? You've never seen anything beyond the walls of a library. What darkness, what death, what blood have you seen in your life. What blood have you spilled in your life? No. You can't help me."
What hurt most was that she hadn't even looked at him when she said it, or even looked away, just kept focusing on the computer in front of her. As if he meant nothing.
A flash of anger flew through him. True he did not live the life she did, but who was to say that she knew loneliness, darkness and pain any more than he did. In this rare anger, he spoke cutting words he would always regret."...I'm sorry Lara. I didn't mean to ask you who died. I meant to ask what his name was and why you were so bloody close!"
Her fist smashed into his cheek, smashing nerves and flesh between bones, knocking his spinal cord around a little, and throwing him clean out of his chair.
True, silence was a terrible thing, and could slowly erode bridges over time. But breaking it could burn them, irreparably, in an instant.