It took them longer than Lara had expected to reach the nearest hospital. The recent floods which had devastated much of central Prague had wreaked untold havoc upon the city's public transportation, and Lara had a lot of difficulty weaving in and out of the gridlocked traffic whilst frantically searching for a sign advertising a hospital. It did not help that she knew very little Czech.

Eventually, however, she heard the approaching siren of an ambulance, and quickly followed it through the break in traffic and along a labyrinth of streets. Soon she had pulled up outside a large blue building on Kurtis' modified Harley. It had started snowing again, and she felt Kurtis shiver against her as she helped him from the motorbike and through the sliding doors into Accident and Emergency.

Motol Hospital was a huge sprawling complex, serving not only as a hospital for in-patient care but also as a branch of the medical faculty of nearby Charles University; in appearance it was more akin to a college campus than a medical facility. Fortunately for Lara, the ambulance had led her to the correct entrance for emergency care. Lara also found to her relief that many of the staff spoke perfect English. They rushed Kurtis into surgery as soon as she arrived.

The frequently shabby buildings Lara had encountered throughout her time in Prague were a remnant of the Communist era from which the city had only recently been freed. Although Motol Hospital appeared to be a modern facility from the outside, inside Lara found its rooms to be large, dark and quite miserable to look at.

I guess appearances can be deceiving, Lara mused, settling down onto a plastic chair in the dingy waiting room.

Upon their arrival she had taken their weapons and holsters and hidden them in her backpack to avoid any unwanted attention. She had also fabricated a story about Kurtis being stabbed in an attempted mugging. The doctors had thanked her for her help after rushing Kurtis away and not questioned her further; pick-pocketing and muggings were so common in Prague that there was not a lot that could be done to catch offenders.

As she glanced anxiously at the clock on the far wall, Lara wondered how she had grown so attached to Kurtis in the short space of time that she had known him. She could have just brought him here and left his fate to the hands of the doctors; both had saved each others' lives that night, and as far as she was concerned they were now even. Something caused her to linger here, however. She had not yet been recognized as a fugitive wanted by Interpol, but she was running a high risk by remaining out in public like this.

You are turning soft, Lara, she told herself. You didn't let yourself grieve Werner's death and now your emotions are catching up with you.

Lara quietly fingered the blue-and-gold scarab amulet hanging about her neck, closing her eyes and searching for Putai's guiding voice. Only the silence greeted her. With a sigh, she released the amulet and tucked it back beneath her tank top on its silver chain.

She could scarcely believe that Kurtis had survived the trip to the hospital, let alone made it into surgery after the wound he had sustained. When she had voiced this thought to one of the doctors he had explained that such an occurrence was not uncommon:

"The amount of blood loss necessary to disable someone varies from person to person," he had told her, with a comforting hand upon her shoulder. "Luckily the blade which penetrated your friend's chest narrowly missed his liver. Stabbing wounds tend to close after the weapon is withdrawn, so it is not impossible for the bleeding to slow. I know of cases where individuals have even managed to run considerable distances after receiving such an injury. Of course, the fact that he was conscious and the speed with which you got him here certainly helped."

The doctor's words echoed throughout her mind as she continued to sit there and wait for Kurtis to come out of surgery, watching the hands of the clock move unmercifully slowly about its face. After what seemed like several hours a gentle hand tapped her on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Lara turned to find a young nurse standing before her; her brown hair was pinned back in a tight bun, and she looked very tired. She must have been working the night shift.

"Can you tell me anything?" Lara's voice was strained, but still hopeful.

"Yes," the nurse said with a reassuring smile. "The surgery went well. Your friend has just been taken into the recovery room; he should be awake soon." Lara felt a huge surge of relief at these words. "I will let you go in and see him now, but bear in mind that visiting hours officially finished hours ago. You won't be able to stay the night, I'm afraid."

"That's alright," Lara said. "I'm just glad that I don't have to sit in this chair any longer…" She stood up and arched her back with a grimace. "Could you take me in to see him now?"

The nurse was only too happy to oblige, and she led Lara down the corridor and along several turns before pausing before a set of double doors.

"I'll give you ten minutes with him," she told Lara. "After that I'm afraid that you will have to find a hotel for the night. If you come and ask at the front desk they can help you to find somewhere nearby and call you a taxi."

Lara smiled her thanks, and the nurse left her with soft footsteps as she gently pushed open one of the doors into the high dependency unit. The room was not large, with just two beds and a bank of resuscitation equipment standing ready against one wall; everything was clean and painted in light pastels, although there was a hint of sterility to her surroundings which reminded Lara of the major surgery from which patients recuperated here.

The door clicked softly behind her as she pushed it closed. Lara appreciated the privacy that the nurse had given her; it would not be helpful if anyone overheard any conversations she and Kurtis had about the Nephilim or centuries-old black alchemists. Absently she noticed how stiff her legs had gotten as she crossed the room. She had been sitting down or pacing around the waiting room for a number of hours, and two days of constant travel and battle had already left her completely exhausted.

Kurtis occupied the bed at the far end of the room—the other one was currently empty—and Lara saw him lift his head slightly as she approached. The curtains were drawn across the window by his bedside, but the orange glow of a streetlamp streamed in through a slight gap in the hangings and fell across a chair standing against the wall. Lara settled down in it and studied Kurtis quietly; he had obviously just woken up.

"Hey," she murmured. "How are you doing?"

Kurtis did not answer at first; he weakly pushed himself up onto his elbows so that he was a bit more upright. Lara reached over and helped to adjust his pillows to make this position more comfortable.

"Well," he murmured. "I feel like I just got skewered through the chest, but according to the doctors that is exactly what happened to me. Ironic, really."

Lara gave him a pleased smile, glad to see he had retained his usual sarcasm. She had known the man for barely a few days, but already she felt as if she had known him for most of her life. He reminded her of herself in some moments; often in ways that she did not like to acknowledge.

"How long was I under?" he asked her. The painkillers were making his speech a little slurred, and there was a slightly glassy expression in his eyes that made her suspect that part of him was not there in the room with her. She pretended she did not notice and shook her head.

"I don't know," she told him. "A few hours, I think. I've lost all sense of time lately." She rubbed at her tired eyes with the heels of her hands and gave a sigh. "To be honest, it felt like a lifetime in that waiting room."

Kurtis raised an eyebrow at her. She saw that familiar spark return to his eyes for a moment.

"You're not showing sympathy for your mysterious stalker are you?" he asked her, a smirk playing at his lips. "That would totally negate the whole stalker-victim relationship."

Lara smiled right back as she slipped her backpack from her shoulders.

"Don't get your hopes up too high, Kurtis. All of the magazines in the waiting room were in Czech."

She reached inside her backpack and, snatching a surreptitious look back at the door, carefully removed the Chirugai and held it up to the light. Kurtis gave a smile as the disc quivered a little in her hand; the blades did not spring out this time, but the connection remained.

"This was the reason that I found you," Lara said quietly. "It pointed me in your direction and led me straight to you." Her gloved hands ran over its smooth surface, tracing the holes through which she had seen Kurtis slide his fingers earlier. She looked up and met his eyes. "How does it work?"

Kurtis shifted a little against his pillows.

"I'm not sure of the specifics," he said, "but it's made of Ferilium, a meteorite alloy. It was forged generations ago. Like most of my order's secrets it can only be properly used and controlled by someone trained in its use." As he spoke the disc quivered again and then fell still; Kurtis collapsed back against his pillows and closed his eyes, looking suddenly drained. "I don't have the strength to show you right now, but there is a mental connection there which allows me to control it. It grows stronger in my presence, but it is always tied to me." He opened his eyes again and smiled at her. "And it's a good thing too. I wouldn't have made it out of there without your help."

"Don't mention it," Lara murmured. "I'm sure you would have done the same thing for me." She returned the Chirugai to her backpack, and did not bother to meet his eyes to affirm her suspicions.

The room became quiet once again; neither was sure what to say next. Lara stared at her hands and felt the tension rising before she could bear it no longer:

"Kurtis, I'm really sorry. If it wasn't for me then you never would have stayed behind to fight Boaz. It's my fault that this happened."

She did not look up, unwilling to meet his gaze. Kurtis, however, reacted in a way she had never expected: he laughed.

"Are you kidding me, Croft?" he said incredulously. "You obviously don't know me at all." Lara looked up at him with a frown, but Kurtis simply shook his head good-naturedly and added: "I never think anything through. Hell, if you hadn't been there I would have still stayed and fought Boaz alone." He gestured to his wound, bandaged and hidden beneath the bedcovers which were currently pulled up to his chest. "This is nothing compared to some of the dumb shit that I've done in the past. Seriously, you don't know the half of it."

Lara smiled a little, her guilt tempered slightly by his words. For a moment the only sound was the quiet ticking of the nearby clock. It was now the early hours of the morning and Lara had not slept properly in days.

"Besides," Kurtis added with a grin, "I'll do anything to impress a hot woman."

Lara's smile became even broader. With a laugh she reached out and nudged Kurtis gently in the stomach.

"Watch it, mister. One well placed hit and those stitches will be busted open like a piñata."

Kurtis gave a soft cry at this action, more to mock her efforts than to show any real cause for pain. The next moment his hand shot out from beneath the bedcovers and caught her wrist; Lara gave another laugh. This only encouraged her to try again with the other hand, and soon the pair had descended into a gentle struggle as Lara attempted to prod him again in his tender stomach.

Someone cleared their throat from the vicinity of the doorway. Lara and Kurtis paused in mid-battle and turned to see the nurse standing there, arms folded and face stern. She did not look very amused.

"I think it best that you leave now," she said brusquely. "Your ten minutes are up." Her tone suggested that she was quite serious on the matter, and Lara exchanged a knowing glance with Kurtis before disentangling herself from his arms, taking up her backpack and making her way slowly to the doorway.

"I'll come and see you in the morning," she promised him, glancing back at Kurtis and giving him a smile. Lara avoided the steely gaze of the nurse and strode out into the deserted corridor, wondering in which direction she should go to retrace her steps to the hospital foyer.

XXX

Ten minutes later Lara had talked to a polite blonde at the front desk and ordered a taxi to take her to the nearest hotel. It was only a few blocks away, with remarkably spacious rooms and a view overlooking a quiet leafy street, but her surroundings did not matter much to Lara; she was just glad for the chance to sleep in a warm bed for the first time in days.

She had only the contents of her backpack with her, and no need to properly unpack. Instead, she simply slung the thing onto a wooden chair, undressed, released her dishevelled hair from its braid and stepped thankfully into the hot soothing water of the shower.

As she washed away the dirt of the last few days, random memories flashed through Lara's mind, coming thicker and faster even as they became all the more distressing: her hands covered in Werner's blood; taking a running leap off a rooftop to avoid a police helicopter; waking up in an old derailed train; diving away from a massive explosion at the pawnshop; Kurtis' fingers brushing teasingly down her stomach; seeing Luddick's smoking corpse draped in a chair in Eckhardt's office; watching Kristina Boaz being devoured by a mutated plant; being trapped in an airlock by Kurtis; removing the last Obscura Painting from its resting place in the Vault of Trophies; watching as Muller was devoured by the creature Boaz; taking an enormous leap towards a gate leading to Eckhardt's lab; watching in confusion as Karel stabbed Eckhardt in the forehead with the third Periapt Shard; running from the lab as the Sleeper was incinerated behind her; holding Kurtis' hand and praying that he would make it in time to the hospital...

Unchecked tears streamed down Lara's face, mixing salty with the water of the shower as she leant against the tiled wall with both arms outstretched and tried to stop the violent sobs which racked her body. She let the water stream down on her for a very long time, attempting to regain some sort of composure; her eyes were firmly shut as she willed herself to be strong. The amulet about her neck hung down between her breasts, silent and forgotten.

It was late when Lara finally turned the shower dial and shut off the water, drying herself off and redressing in a spare tank top and a pair of shorts for bed. A rusted red alarm clock sat on the bedside dresser, and Lara tried exasperatedly to work out how to set it; eventually she threw it across the room and left it abandoned in the corner.

Although she was completely exhausted from the events of the last few days, Lara had trouble getting to sleep that night. She kept waking up after reliving a particularly vivid dream. It was no longer the same recurring dream she had been having since her experiences in Egypt; this one was much worse.

She was in some kind of dim chamber, lit only by the flicker of flaming sconces set along the low stone walls. A dirge of pedantic chanting greeted her. With unwilling steps Lara slowly paused in the middle of a circle of purple fire, straining to see what hung before her. What she saw was so horrifying she closed her eyes and screamed until her lungs felt as if they were on fire.

When her eyes opened again the chamber was gone. All around her was now inky blackness. Lara watched as her hands trailed languidly in front of her, and a stream of bubbles issued from her mouth and rose to the glimmering surface far above.

Suddenly a muted roar impacted the water around her; with a frown, Lara pressed her hands to her abdomen and felt a dull sensation creep through her. When her hands came away she found that they were covered in blood. It quickly washed away and stained the water red around her, blinding her senses and filling her with panic.

The next moment a white-hot pain shot through her, and she clutched her stomach heavily. That was when she noticed that her hand was now holding the hilt of a dagger, already thrust deep into someone's chest. She recoiled in horror, blood seeping steadily down her wrist as she looked up into the eyes of the person she had just killed:

Kurtis.

Lara shot upright in bed for the fourth time that night, breathing heavily and covered in a sheen of sweat. She quickly raised her hand and reassured herself that it was not covered in blood. Even so, it was several minutes before her heart stopped pounding painfully fast in her chest.

Once her breathing had stilled a little Lara threw back the covers and padded to the bathroom to get herself a glass of water. As she gulped it down she avoided looking at her own anxious reflection in the mirror, and quickly returned to the warmth of her bed, thanking her luck the next morning when the dream did not come again.

XXX

Thank you and a big hug to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. You don't know how happy you made me! :) The first couple of chapters have basically been setting up the story, but I promise the action will begin (more or less) next chapter. Until then...