The length this story is reaching is scaring me...
No Need For A Name - Thanks for both your reviews. I had no idea about the crutches not being allowed on planes thing. However, as for your other two points, no matter how good security may be, you can't stop someone doing minor damage to a car such as scratching it out of jealousy, which is more what I was getting at, and I never said that Lara had PTSD - Bryce did, but Bryce is not infallible. I am simply giving my take on how Lara and Kurtis would be dealing with the situation post AOD given the characters presented to us in AOD. I'm a physicist, not a psychologist. ;-)
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I awoke panting and sweating. Man, there were some serious demons inside of me. I lay for a while longer, pulling myself back to the present, listening to the rain outside. It must have started whilst I was sleeping; this was the first it had rained since my arrival.
Feeling slightly calmer, I limped over to the desk and poured myself a shot from the bourbon waiting there, downing it with a gasp at the guilty pleasure of the burning in my throat, a sensation only understood by those in desperation. Cigarettes were another regular but unnecessary vice of mine - like the drink, I indulged in them quite often, but only because they went some way to making me feel better about whatever it was that was screwing my life up at the time. It was always one thing or another. Neither the alcohol nor the nicotine were addictions, but I let both of them teeter on the brink, enjoying the calming effect they could have on me and basking in the danger they presented. I picked up the packet of cigarettes laid next to the bourbon and moved to the window, lighting one and taking that first satisfying drag as I went.
I flopped onto the window seat and sat with my knees up and the window wide open, breathing in my smoke and the crisp air as I watched the rain fall, hearing the patter of the drops on the gravel drive and, more closely, on my window sill. They fell and splashed, creating circles of smaller droplets around the impact point. I reached forward with my free hand as I took another drag of my cigarette and ran my finger through the drops, creating small streams to join them that swelled with the impact of more raindrops. A few of the splashes bounced inside, landing on my T-shirt and hands where they rested at the casement, mingling with the cold air that swelled in and created a calming, cooling atmosphere around me. I breathed out heavily, filling the air in front of me with smoke as I let my head drop into my hand as my elbow rested on the windowsill, tugging at my hair as I waited for my inner turmoil to calm itself.
Finishing my cigarette, I blew out my final breath of smoke and stubbed out the butt on the wet windowsill. I reached out and shut the window against the elements, lingering for a moment to watch the rain continue unabated before hefting my crutches under my shoulders and heading off in search of Lara. I needed to talk.
Puffing slightly, tired from the long journey through the house, I eventually came up behind Lara in the kitchen, turned away from me, concealing her actions. Not quite knowing how to begin, I plumped for a casual, disarming greeting. "Hello, Ms Croft."
Ms Croft jumped, startled, and spun to face me with her hand on her heart. Now that she was repositioned, I could see what it was she had been doing - folding laundry. That was the last thing I expected to find her doing, and it threw me off my original intent.
"You do your own laundry?" I asked, looking surprised, before insincerely apologising for making her jump.
"Hillary's my only household staff, and he can't do everything. Besides, I'm down to earth - I don't expect to be waited on hand and foot just because I'm a Lady," she protested.
"I thought all ladies wanted waiting on hand and foot," I quipped, leaning against the kitchen table with a matching casual air that caused a slash of pain to go through me in punishment for forgetting to pander to my damaged body.
"Careful," Lara warned as I gasped in pain, "there's a reason you're on crutches you know - a couple of inches - "
"A couple of inches to the right and I'd have been paralysed, yeah, I heard the doc." All the same I adjusted my position to one less cool but also less uncomfortable.
"Why don't you just, for one second, stop posing and act like the injured party you are," Lara said, poking me accusingly. "Besides, I rather get the impression posing hasn't got you very far with the ladies." Her tone became playful as she smiled at me before turning back to her laundry.
"Just making an observation about the feminine views on the role of man," I drawled in an equally playful tone, taking my pain relief one step further and sitting down.
When she didn't reply, I decided to end the harmless chat and get down to business.
"Lara - " I started, but was interrupted as Bryce came into the room.
"Hey up," he said loudly as he retrieved some hardened pizza from the refrigerator. "What're you talking about?"
"Oh, nothing," Lara dismissed. She took one look at Bryce's snack and screwed up her nose in horror. "Bryce - that pizza is four days old and it's cold - that's disgusting."
"Tastes alright to me," came the muffled reply around a mouthful of congealed margherita.
"I'm sorry, what were you going to say?" asked Lara, and I looked up to find her looking at me expectantly.
From out of the corner of my eye I saw Bryce edge over to the laundry basket and fish out an article of Lara's underwear. Forgetting about the conversation I wanted and Lara's question, I just stared, grinning. Lara, seeing my distraction, turned and caught Bryce red handed just as he was escaping.
"Bryce!" she screamed, dropping her laundry on the floor and darting after him. From my limited view of the hall through the doorway, I could just see Bryce shrinking away from a vicious attack as Lara beat him with the bra he'd stolen. He was laughing hard, and was still laughing as Lara marched back into the kitchen with a dramatic look of weary ire put on her face, and Hillary, sighing, threw him a duster and told him to go and dust.
"Oh. Very funny," Lara said as she threw the bra back into the hamper, finding me laughing. Leaning back against the counter, she fixed me with a look and said again, "What did you want to talk to me about?"
By now I had lost my nerve, and I suddenly found the view out of the window very interesting. "Nothing, it doesn't matter."
Lara tugged my sleeve as she walked past me and opened the back door. "Come on, I want to show you something," she said.
She was obviously pulling some tactic to try and get me to talk, but maybe I wanted her to succeed. So, I stood, grabbed my crutches, and followed her.

We walked in silence through the woods at the edge of Lara's land, Lara occasionally offering her assistance as my crutches stuck and slipped in the mud stirred up by the earlier rainstorm. "Here we are," she said as we reached a bend in the track, the way ahead obscured by trees. I followed her round and was amazed to see before me a breathtaking view of miles of countryside dropping away from a small cliff, tree roots growing out of it and the final few raindrops falling off the tree leaves.
"Wow," was all I could manage. "That's…..wow."
Lara indicated a log, and we sat looking out at the view, surrounded by a canopy of trees on our vantage point above the drop.
"Bryce and I used to come here a lot when we were dating," Lara said almost thoughtfully.
I looked to her, surprised and not a little uncomfortable with her remark. It was one of those moments when girls forgot that guys did not talk about stuff like that.
"I don't even wanna think about what's been going on, on this log," I muttered, giving it a distasteful glance.
Lara laughed suddenly, loudly, startling birds in the trees that rose up, flapping and squawking in alarm before gradually settling again. The returning quiet, punctuated only by bird song and dripping water from the trees above us, was broken by Lara.
"Why did you tell me to go and kill Eckhardt, Kurtis?"
She knew precisely what I had wanted to talk to her about. Clever girl, but I was no longer so ready to open up. "What do you mean?"
"Why did you stay to fight Boaz and send me to kill Eckhardt, when you wanted him?"
"Boaz needed taking care of."
"I could have done it."
"The ledge of the pit was too high - one of us needed to go after Eckhardt, one of us needed to take care of Boaz, and I could use my powers to give you an extra boost out of the pit - you were the logical choice to go." She was, but it was a lame excuse, and it certainly hadn't helped me so far.
"No, Kurtis, you chose to stay." Lara's tone was accusing, argumentative. "I could have helped you out and then killed Boaz from the ledge. Instead you chose to stay down there in the danger and let me go and avenge your father's death for you." I did, it was true, and now I was paying for my cowardice. Maybe part of the reason I had stayed in the pit was in hope that Boaz would kill me, but the majority of the matter - the real reason - was that I didn't want to face Eckhardt. "Didn't you want closure?" Lara asked softly, trying to catch my eye from where I was staring out across the distance.
Sighing, I picked up a stick and poked the earth with it restlessly. I had to be honest with Lara, and more importantly I had to be honest with myself.
"I didn't trust myself." There, it was out.
"I honestly don't know if I'd have bothered going after Eckhardt if he hadn't killed my father. But he did, and I wanted justice." I paused, remembering Lara's assessment of the situation in the airlock. 'So Eckhardt went after your father and you want revenge'. "I wanted revenge," I restated, knowing she had been right all along. "And I didn't trust myself to be able to face Eckhardt with a clear head and finish the job properly. My anger would have got in the way." And I had to ensure the job was finished properly, if even by someone else. I had failed my father enough.
Lara touched my arm lightly, and I looked to her.
"I'm still angry," I whispered, "Angry that I didn't get to kill him."
"It was all an act, wasn't it?" Lara said, her voice showing realisation. "You seemed so cool out there. Untouchable. You were raging inside the whole time, weren't you?"
"Yeah." I spat out the word under my breath, and I found I was shaking with rage, and that was the word. Rage.
I was silent for a few minutes before I could force myself to continue. Lara said nothing, just sitting and waiting, ready to listen for as long as I needed her. I had never had a moment like this with anyone.
"For years - I had him to focus on. To shoot for. Eckhardt. That's all I had to think about, all I had to deal with. And now it's done, and I don't know what comes next. I've drifted and I've tracked and put everything else on hold and now I'm done - now Eckhardt's dead - " I could say no more. To say it would be to admit it, to make it true. I was alone in the world with no purpose, and it was a cold, lonely night in my soul.
"I have nothing to return to," I said softly. My hands were clutched together so tightly that it hurt, and I blinked away tears that threatened to fall. I was still shaking, and I could do nothing except stare at the earth and exhaust every ounce of effort I had trying to keep myself together.
Lara placed her hands atop mine, giving a gentle squeeze, but did not speak.
Minutes, or possibly hours, passed with just Lara and I sitting in the woods, not speaking, not moving.
Eventually, Lara moved to gently prise my hands apart in an effort to bring me back out of my turmoil, and the feeling caused a memory to crash down on me with such clarity that I gasped.
Returning from stowing the two Periapt Shards safely as my father had instructed me once he had learned that Eckhardt was near, I leapt off my bike and began calling for my parents, throwing the door of the motel room open and rushing into the room.
"Dad! Dad! I saw a car - I think it's Eckhardt! We have to go! Dad!"
As I finished my warning, I saw that it was too late. It had been Eckhardt, and he had been leaving.
My mother sat at my father's side, crying hysterically. My father lay, his body burned and his face frozen in fear for my mother, dead. I noticed then the almost satanic symbols daubed on the walls in my father's blood, still wet and dripping. "NO!" I screamed, dropping to my knees next to my parents and staring in horror at the nightmarish scene before me. I don't know how long I sat there, breathing heavily, close to crying, and dying inside, but I eventually came to my senses. Eckhardt still did not have the shards, and there was one last member of the order left. Me.
"Mom," I said quietly, looking towards her. I reached out to raise her head to make her look at me. "Mom." I raised her chin and gasped as I saw a gash down the side of her face, still bleeding, and a bruise across her temple.
"I didn't tell him about you," she said, her voice shaking. "He wanted to know who had the shards, but I didn't tell him."
"Mom, he might have seen me. We have to leave. Come on." I tried to pull her to her feet, but she wouldn't come.
"As far as he's concerned the Lux Veritatis is dead. He never knew your father had a son. He won't be back, we can stay. We can stay." She began to cry again, reaching out to my father's face and stroking his face lovingly.
"No. No, mom, we have to go." I wanted to stay as much as she did, but if Eckhardt had seen me on the road and suspected that I was the one that the shards had been entrusted to - I could not take that chance. I had to live to kill Eckhardt, and I had to protect my mother.
"Mom," my voice was firmer this time, hard, "Mom we have to go." I placed my hands on hers where she was clutching onto my father's and gently prised her away. "We have to leave."
"Kurtis? Are you ok?" asked Lara, reaching up to move the hair that had fallen around my face. I blinked, clearing my head, and looked at her.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm ok. Let's go." I stood, and we started back to the house.

That evening Hillary strode purposefully into the lounge where Lara and I were playing Scrabble and, standing almost to attention, said, "Has anyone seen Bryce?"
"No," said Lara, shaking her head.
"The kitchen is a disgrace."
"Really?" Lara looked questioningly at Hillary, probably wondering why he expected the kitchen to be any different if Bryce had been in there.
"He's left boiled over pasta in the microwave for the last time." Hillary turned to go and force Bryce to clean up.
"Triple word score, plus the 'z' is on a double letter, that's 67 points and I believe that makes me the winner," I gloated, standing. "And with that, I'll go and find Bryce for ya, Hilly, I need to work off some aches." Lara tutted as she checked the scores and found that I had indeed won. I smiled at Hillary as I passed, and headed outside for Bryce's trailer.
Reaching the door, I knocked twice sharply and then looked over to the window, sharp light pouring out against the rapidly gathering dusk. My attention was brought back to the door as it was yanked open from the inside. "Kurtis," greeted Bryce. "Come in, mate."
"Thanks." I hopped inside and stopped, taking in the haphazard surroundings. There was indeed a bowl of half eaten microwave pasta on the floor, no less than five computer monitors were all showing different displays and a TV was airing what appeared to be a bizarre British comedy. Bryce closed the door behind me and flopped back into his chair, grabbing the pasta and taking a mouthful.
"What can I do you for?" he asked, eyes fixed on the TV.
"Hillary wanted to - what the hell is that?" I asked, moving closer to the monitor that had caught my attention. "Is that Lara?!"
"That," said Bryce, pointing, "Is my first million."
"Yeah?"
Bryce punched a few keys on the keyboard and the computer generated vision of Lara showing on the screen beforehand was replaced with a sketchier version that proceeded to carry out a series of athletic manoeuvres - jumps, somersaults, back-flips, swan dives, even a commando crawl. "I present to you, the initial stages of development in a little project I like to call, 'Tomb Raider'."
"Tomb Raider?"
"A video game combining the physical prowess of the platform, the problem solving of the puzzle adventure and the combat skills of a shoot 'em up, all brought together in worldwide locations spanning the globe in an adventure to save the world."
"You're turning Lara into a video game?" I raised an eyebrow and blinked, not quite believing that he would dare to do that to a woman who could crush him.
"Gonna be a hit. Big hit."
"Really?" I nodded, not having quite the same faith that Bryce clearly did.
"Just you wait, my friend," Bryce said as he flopped back into his chair and picked up a dart, "I'm gonna make Lara a star."
He threw the dart across the trailer and it shot home in a black and white photograph pinned on the wall, right in the eyeball of a grinning man holding up some sort of Mayan looking idol.
I looked at the photo, looked at Bryce, and then leant back against the desk to await an explanation. Four darts later, when none had come, I said, "And who's that?"
"Alex West."
"And he's…?"
"Lara's ex."
"Right." I nodded, getting it completely. Smarmy looking guy who had dated Lara. Definitely deserved a dart. Or five. I grabbed one out of the pot sitting on the desk that housed several sets of darts and sent it flying towards the photo. It lodged in West's throat.
"Nice," said Bryce, nodding in appreciation.
"Yeah," I replied.