(A/N) w00t 1st chapter done and our heroine is hysteric *evil chuckle* Well
there is always an end to the chaos.but not quite yet. ^.^ Enjoy and its
still short, cause I'm short, it fit.
Disclaimer: I think this is the best part of the whole story hearing myself rant and rave about not owning Tomb Raider, but I like hearing myself talk.I talk to myself much too often O.- *twitch* Blah Blah Blah don't own it NEVER WILL. Life isn't fair.
Chapter 2: Forgotton
"She's coming out of it." "Thank God." "Sir, you must step back for a moment and let me examine her, she may just be drifting again." Over the mists she was swimming in, she heard the voices. Hollow distant. Fear scrambled through her, even in her half conscious state her breath began to catch. She hadn't escaped, but the fear wouldn't show. She promised herself that. As she came closer to the surface she closed her hands into tight fists. The feel of her fingers against her palms gave her some sense of self and control. Slowly she opened her eyes. Her vision ebbed, clouded then gradually cleared. So, as she stared into the face bending over her, did the fear. The face wasn't familiar. It wasn't him. She'd know wouldn't she. Her confidence wavered a moment, but she remained still. This face was round and pleasant with a trim curling white beard that contrasted with the smooth bald head. When he took her hand in his she didn't struggle She felt him take her pulse, but let her gaze wander the room. Hospital. Though the room was almost elegant, and quite large she knew she was in a hospital. The room smelled strongly of flowers and antiseptics. Then she saw the man standing to the side. He stood wearing a suit, strange she mused. His hair was flecked with gray but very dark and full. His face too was pleasant to see, softened expression, but she hadn't recognized it wither. "Oh Welcome back." He stated grabbing her hand happily. She didn't pull away, compassion forbid it, instead she studied his face again, "Who are you?" The man's head jerked up. His damp eyes stared into hers, "Who-" You're very weak." Gently the doctor cut him off and drew her attention away. She saw him put a hand on the man's arm in restraint or comfort she couldn't tell. "You've been through a great deal, confusion is natural at first." Lying flat on her back she watched the doctor and the other man talk their voices fading in and out. A raw sickness begun to roll inside her stomach, she was warm and dry.and empty. She had a body, and it was tired, but inside the body was a void. Her voice was surprisingly strong and when she spoke she could hear the accent different from the doctors, but the same as the others. Both men responded to it. "I don't know where I am." Beneath the doctor's hand her pulse jerked once, "I don't know who I am." "You've been through a great deal." The doctor spoke soothingly as his brain raced ahead. Specialists he though, if she didn't regain her memory in twenty four hours he'd need the best. "You remember nothing?" the other man had straightened at her words. Now with his ramrod stance, his sleep starved eyes he looked down at her. Confused, and fighting back fear she started to push herself up but the doctor was quick to soothe her back. She remembered.running, the storm, the dark. Lights coming up in front of her. Closing her eyes tight she struggled for composure without knowing why it was so important to retain it. Her voice was still strong but achingly hollow. "I don't know who I am. Tell me." "After you've rested a bit more," the doctor began. The other man caught him off with no more than a look of ice. Taking his hand in hers he held it firmly, "You are Lara, Lady Lara Croft, and I'm Hillary, I've been your friend and butler longer than I'd care to confess." Nightmare or fairy tale? She wondered as she stared up at him, her butler? Wasn't her family supposed to be there when she woke up? She had a butler? And the butler had a woman's name? "I--I can't remember.I'm tired." She began. "Yes, indeed," the doctor patted her hand, "For know Lady Croft, rest is the very best medicine. Reluctantly, Hillary released her hand, "I'll be close." Her strength was already beginning to ebb and she closed her yes, quickly falling victim to slumber. Hillary made his way down the corridor in his quick hop like step, he couldn't help if one leg was longer than the other.His best friend, the only family he had in the world had almost been lost to him, just the way her father had so many years ago. Now that he had her safely back, she looked at him as though he was a stranger. In the spacious, sun splashed Russian waiting room were several people, only two which bore any familiarity. Pacing, smoking, was a household name around Croft Manor, Alex West. Hit his shaggy blonde hair. The other sprawled across the couch was the third and final member of the actual Croft household, their hacker Bryce. His dark curly hair was always disarrayed, and his almost rat looking face hollow with lack of sleep. Alex raised his head as Hillary walked from the hospital doors, he was holding up well he thought, but then he'd expected no less. He'd met Hillary a few years ago, at his occasional dallying around the manor, he often had been the one to let him in when Lara had locked him out in the cold. He had been Lara's partner for a few tomb raids as he had so properly labeled, known her for the longest of times, let her down many more than that. But he looked more like a farmer than an archeologist at the moment When he stopped pacing, his long, rangy body moved subtly, muscle by muscle. The scrummed brown leather jacket over a plain navy T-shirt gave him an air of formality. He was the kind of man who's clothes, no matter how gruff or attractive, were noticed only after he was. His face drew attention first, perhaps because of the smooth good looks he'd inherited from his Scotch-Irish ancestors. His skin would have been pale if he hadn't spent so much rime outdoors. His sandy blonde hair sun streaked, insisting on falling over his brow. His mouth was wide and tended to be one of a playboy. His eyes were a charming sizzling blue that had half the women in Europe stumbling over themselves to get a glance at. HE used them to charm when it suited him, just as he used them to intimidate. "Well? "his accent was thicker hung with a hint of the old New Yorker in him. "She's conscious." At that Bryce stood nearly as a solider would. "How does she feel? When Can we see her?" Alex said his eyes darkening with concern. "She's tired, and I'd say so, perhaps tomorrow." Hillary said with a shake of his head. "We can take her home soon right?" Bryce said quietly, he'd like her home, where she belonged. "As soon as possible." Alex shifted his weight to his other leg, "What did she say? Tell me." he urged. "she remembered nothing, not even her own name." Hillary gave his head a shake. "Nothing? Not even-The raid at all?" "I doubt she remembers what a Tomb Raider is." His head moved at the same pace his neck straining, " I suggest the couch Mr. West."
Disclaimer: I think this is the best part of the whole story hearing myself rant and rave about not owning Tomb Raider, but I like hearing myself talk.I talk to myself much too often O.- *twitch* Blah Blah Blah don't own it NEVER WILL. Life isn't fair.
Chapter 2: Forgotton
"She's coming out of it." "Thank God." "Sir, you must step back for a moment and let me examine her, she may just be drifting again." Over the mists she was swimming in, she heard the voices. Hollow distant. Fear scrambled through her, even in her half conscious state her breath began to catch. She hadn't escaped, but the fear wouldn't show. She promised herself that. As she came closer to the surface she closed her hands into tight fists. The feel of her fingers against her palms gave her some sense of self and control. Slowly she opened her eyes. Her vision ebbed, clouded then gradually cleared. So, as she stared into the face bending over her, did the fear. The face wasn't familiar. It wasn't him. She'd know wouldn't she. Her confidence wavered a moment, but she remained still. This face was round and pleasant with a trim curling white beard that contrasted with the smooth bald head. When he took her hand in his she didn't struggle She felt him take her pulse, but let her gaze wander the room. Hospital. Though the room was almost elegant, and quite large she knew she was in a hospital. The room smelled strongly of flowers and antiseptics. Then she saw the man standing to the side. He stood wearing a suit, strange she mused. His hair was flecked with gray but very dark and full. His face too was pleasant to see, softened expression, but she hadn't recognized it wither. "Oh Welcome back." He stated grabbing her hand happily. She didn't pull away, compassion forbid it, instead she studied his face again, "Who are you?" The man's head jerked up. His damp eyes stared into hers, "Who-" You're very weak." Gently the doctor cut him off and drew her attention away. She saw him put a hand on the man's arm in restraint or comfort she couldn't tell. "You've been through a great deal, confusion is natural at first." Lying flat on her back she watched the doctor and the other man talk their voices fading in and out. A raw sickness begun to roll inside her stomach, she was warm and dry.and empty. She had a body, and it was tired, but inside the body was a void. Her voice was surprisingly strong and when she spoke she could hear the accent different from the doctors, but the same as the others. Both men responded to it. "I don't know where I am." Beneath the doctor's hand her pulse jerked once, "I don't know who I am." "You've been through a great deal." The doctor spoke soothingly as his brain raced ahead. Specialists he though, if she didn't regain her memory in twenty four hours he'd need the best. "You remember nothing?" the other man had straightened at her words. Now with his ramrod stance, his sleep starved eyes he looked down at her. Confused, and fighting back fear she started to push herself up but the doctor was quick to soothe her back. She remembered.running, the storm, the dark. Lights coming up in front of her. Closing her eyes tight she struggled for composure without knowing why it was so important to retain it. Her voice was still strong but achingly hollow. "I don't know who I am. Tell me." "After you've rested a bit more," the doctor began. The other man caught him off with no more than a look of ice. Taking his hand in hers he held it firmly, "You are Lara, Lady Lara Croft, and I'm Hillary, I've been your friend and butler longer than I'd care to confess." Nightmare or fairy tale? She wondered as she stared up at him, her butler? Wasn't her family supposed to be there when she woke up? She had a butler? And the butler had a woman's name? "I--I can't remember.I'm tired." She began. "Yes, indeed," the doctor patted her hand, "For know Lady Croft, rest is the very best medicine. Reluctantly, Hillary released her hand, "I'll be close." Her strength was already beginning to ebb and she closed her yes, quickly falling victim to slumber. Hillary made his way down the corridor in his quick hop like step, he couldn't help if one leg was longer than the other.His best friend, the only family he had in the world had almost been lost to him, just the way her father had so many years ago. Now that he had her safely back, she looked at him as though he was a stranger. In the spacious, sun splashed Russian waiting room were several people, only two which bore any familiarity. Pacing, smoking, was a household name around Croft Manor, Alex West. Hit his shaggy blonde hair. The other sprawled across the couch was the third and final member of the actual Croft household, their hacker Bryce. His dark curly hair was always disarrayed, and his almost rat looking face hollow with lack of sleep. Alex raised his head as Hillary walked from the hospital doors, he was holding up well he thought, but then he'd expected no less. He'd met Hillary a few years ago, at his occasional dallying around the manor, he often had been the one to let him in when Lara had locked him out in the cold. He had been Lara's partner for a few tomb raids as he had so properly labeled, known her for the longest of times, let her down many more than that. But he looked more like a farmer than an archeologist at the moment When he stopped pacing, his long, rangy body moved subtly, muscle by muscle. The scrummed brown leather jacket over a plain navy T-shirt gave him an air of formality. He was the kind of man who's clothes, no matter how gruff or attractive, were noticed only after he was. His face drew attention first, perhaps because of the smooth good looks he'd inherited from his Scotch-Irish ancestors. His skin would have been pale if he hadn't spent so much rime outdoors. His sandy blonde hair sun streaked, insisting on falling over his brow. His mouth was wide and tended to be one of a playboy. His eyes were a charming sizzling blue that had half the women in Europe stumbling over themselves to get a glance at. HE used them to charm when it suited him, just as he used them to intimidate. "Well? "his accent was thicker hung with a hint of the old New Yorker in him. "She's conscious." At that Bryce stood nearly as a solider would. "How does she feel? When Can we see her?" Alex said his eyes darkening with concern. "She's tired, and I'd say so, perhaps tomorrow." Hillary said with a shake of his head. "We can take her home soon right?" Bryce said quietly, he'd like her home, where she belonged. "As soon as possible." Alex shifted his weight to his other leg, "What did she say? Tell me." he urged. "she remembered nothing, not even her own name." Hillary gave his head a shake. "Nothing? Not even-The raid at all?" "I doubt she remembers what a Tomb Raider is." His head moved at the same pace his neck straining, " I suggest the couch Mr. West."
