author's note: the update to NTC is forthcoming, in the next couple of days I hope (the editing is a bear for a perfectionist) but I wanted to slide this one-shot out there. I don't ship them. although if you do, I suppose this could be read that way. Anyways, I love Jacob's character and his friendship with Lara and I felt like filling in where he saves her from the river, after Trinity corners them in the train yard, along with a few of my own headcanons. ;) I sure hope I did it justice! I'd appreciate a review if you liked it.

.TR. TR. .

The river was wide and treacherous. It didn't make for good winter fishing, not up this way, and due to its depth, the quality of the icy layer encasing its' rushing waters could not be trusted. He didn't venture out here, none of his people did, without a very specific and worthy reason, not this time of year. Besides- they didn't like to spend a lot of time where the Soviets had been. The scars those people had left on the Remnant and their valley were still too fresh for that. Even so, now he stood on a bridge, staring down a helicopter. It hadn't been that long ago that he'd never seen such a creation, but in the last many years, he'd seen far more than he'd like to have. They always seemed to mean trouble for his people, and for their way of life.

The helicopter hovered, the chopping of its' blades a threat that made its' own echo. The voice boomed from the loudspeaker, and the boots of the enemy, the clicks of the safeties going off of their guns, sounded behind them.

Jacob glanced to his new companion, seeing her gaze dart to the freezing water below. He knew what she was thinking, because he thought the same. She gave him a tiny nod, one that he returned, and with no hesitation, she leaped from the failing wooden bridge into the depths of the river.

He was only a step or two behind. He wasn't eager for this, but it was the only way. He wasn't concerned for himself really; for obvious reasons. He was unaffected by extreme temperatures, and he had little to no worries of drowning. He had good lungs, and he was a good swimmer. Even if he did drown- well. He knew it would not be permanent. Judging by past experiences, though, drowning was a terrible way to go, one he'd like to avoid if at all possible, and besides that, he couldn't afford to wait until the dawn for things to reset. Lara might need him.

She'd proven herself more than capable already, and he was glad he wasn't fighting her. She would be a formidable obstacle. But she was so small, her lungs just weren't able to hold a lot of air. He didn't think she would panic, but it might be a ways before she found a break in the ice, and the cold would sap her strength quickly. He would stick close by, but stay out of her way unless she got stuck.

This was easier said than done. Once the water closed over his head, it was murky and littered with ruins and silt. The darkness made in the shade of the ice overhead didn't help matters. There were several moments where he simply hovered, uncertain as to which way she had gone, unable to see. Finally, he saw the break in the... It wasn't ice. He wasn't sure what it was, but it had some sort of top on it and they needed to get out. He couldn't tell if she had or not, but surely by now…

He slid carefully through the gap, going through at an angle so his shoulders with clear the opening, and his eyes roved the open space in the water. Ah! There she was, near the hole in the ice itself, nearing air. Her movements were quick and desperate; she was hurting but she'd make it. He wouldn't rush in and become overbearing. He was a stranger, after all, and not supposed to care very much what happened to her. Unfortunately, not caring had never been his strong suit.

He watched her drag herself from the frozen water, and turned his efforts double time, hurrying towards the air. He'd just regroup with her up top, and then they could-

The sound of gunfire split the echoey depths of the river, and balls of fire plunged through the ice, igniting for mere seconds in the water before they extinguished into blue-tinted plumes of smoke. There was no way he could go up that way now. He wasn't afraid of being shot, but he couldn't allow Lara to see him die. His return thereafter would be very suspicious.

He turned towards a fork in the river that most did not know was there, a small canal that led off into the woods. He knew it, because a small pond resided at the end, where deer gathered. It was an excellent place to hunt, but it would also be an excellent place to get away. He could circle around and surprise anyone in pursuit of Lara from there. They probably assumed he'd drowned or been shot, and wouldn't be expecting him.

He shoved his way up through a crack in the thin ice that coated the canal, gasping for breath. His lungs were on fire, but he'd swallowed no water. The coughing was merely a reflex. He hesitated, draped over the edge of the ice for a few seconds until air had re-entered his system and he could see clearly again. Then he pushed himself up onto his feet and ran towards the biggest part of the river.

As he neared it, he could hear the blades of the helicopter over the trees. He came out on the ridge over the river banks, coming to a halt. Partially because he didn't want those inside the helicopter to see him, but mostly due to the sight before him. On the opposite ridge, Lara was running over the ice caps, and they were disintegrating under her feet, giving way to the bullets the enemy showered her with.

His stance was readied, but he had nowhere to go- he couldn't get to that side without being seen, and even if he could, what would he do? He couldn't stop Trinity and their helicopter from down here. He would only slow her down. It was grueling to watch someone he couldn't help in an onslaught, but it was necessary. He watched as she leaped for a rope stretched across the river. Conveniently place for her, it was one that he and his people used in the hunting season, to more easily send supplies from one bank to the other. The helicopter was gaining on her, and he felt the tension in his body. There was no way this would end well. Even if she made it to the bottom, there wasn't any good cover down there. She would have to-

A sickening creak of weakened metal split the crisp air, and a scream that stabbed his ears followed. His eyes moved back from the ground below her to the rope- or where it used to be. Now there was nothing but the mist from the mountains. A splash followed, and it drew his attention the murky river. The helicopter riddled the water with bullets, and circled around once, preparing for a retreat. Apparently, those in control of it considered their work here to be done.

He prayed that they were wrong.

If he hadn't convinced her to free him, she wouldn't have come this way. He wasn't going to be the reason someone else died. He'd been at the root of too many deaths already. The tally was insurmountable, a thousand years of transgressions, and Lara's demise would not be on the list.

He drew in a deep breath, fortifying as much as it was practical, and dove from the ridge into the waters below, powerful strokes taking him in haste toward where he'd seen her go under. It seemed to take hours to spot her white coat, stark contrast to the silt that was clouding the water. She wasn't too far from the surface, which meant she'd tried to swim upwards, but hadn't made it. At least, then, she hadn't been still for very long. Maybe there was still time.

His arms came around her, pushing both of them towards the surface she'd been trying to reach. He kept her torso as far above the water as he could, fighting his way towards shore. She didn't weigh that much, knowledge with went both to his advantage, and his alarm. She wouldn't have long in those wet clothes, in this weather, before she began to freeze. He hoisted them both up onto the bank, pausing to consider his options. There was a cave not too far up the side of the mountain. He might be able to get her there, but it would make for a tough trek if he had only one hand free. Still, he would do what he must.

There was a time when he'd come here often, it had been a base of sorts for him. At the time, he people didn't venture into the wilderness much at all, content to stay within the safety of Kitezh's walls. But then, the much-feared Mongols had come. He knew that the warlords would never have located their city without Trinity's help, and while his Deathless army had kept Khan from adding Kitezh to his Empire, they'd done the opposite of protecting the city. Protecting the city would have meant to keep it intact, to save the citizens, to defend them. Instead, they had caused thousands of deaths, including that of his Sofia, however inadvertent.

He wanted to blame them solely, but knew he could not. It was all his doing.

That had been too much for him to bear. He had brought these people out here with his own foolishness and built a city to keep them safe, but still, most of them had perished, and under his command. He knew that a Remnant had made it to the outskirts of the buried ruins, but they were on the other side of the mountain. This side, the side he had run to, was empty, and he hoped it would stay that way. His people would be better off without him. He was tired of living, tired of his endless existence. He'd never asked for it. He'd been saddled with it, and he'd really wanted out of it by then.

He'd spent decades in this wilderness alone, and the cave had been his home base. He had eventually stumbled upon a new camp his people had made, and it had been impossible to hide away any longer. Eventually, they would find him anyway, he'd told himself, and he supposed he'd been right. But really, he was just tired of the isolation. If he had to live eternally, he might as well seek out some company.

He hadn't been back to the cave for a very long time. He'd sent his people to use it as a hide out when they had to come this way, but he himself had not seen it since he had left it behind. He imagined it would still be a capable shelter. He hoped so. Otherwise, it would be a frighteningly long trip to safety.

It was about thirty minutes that felt like twice that, but he got both of them to the top. The fact that Lara had been limp the entire time was pressing on him, a concern that grew at every passing second. She was shivering, which was a good sign, but he wanted to put a stop to that as well, in the long run.

He laid out the bedding that was rolled up in the corner of the makeshift home, and laid her out on it. Sitting back on his heels, he scanned the room. There wasn't any wood left; he'd have to gather some himself if he wanted to make a fire, and he did. That would help things along he'd be able to light the lanterns and assess how best to handle this situation.

When a fire was roaring pleasantly to life in the old stove, he hesitated only a moment before beginning on the problem of her wet clothes. He didn't have any sort of blankets, and his own coat was still dripping river water, but he should at least remove the outer layers. The fire would hopefully dry the rest.

He hung them on the various ropes that resided on the roof, meant for hanging meat to dry, but useful for about anything. Then- all he could do was wait. And, wait he did, for a while. The room heated up nicely, and he eventually slid her back into the coat when it dried. Without a blanket or anything else to use for one, it was the best thing he had on hand. It didn't look like she was going to awaken on her own, but she hadn't been coughing, so she hadn't swallowed water. Perhaps she was just exhausted. He wouldn't be surprised. She pushed herself hard, and she got results, but she could probably use the rest.

And rest, he let her, for a while. He went out to bring more wood inside, and brought in more snow to melt for water. His own coat was frozen in some places, but he didn't stop to hang it up. He'd not be here long, anyway.

Eventually, he came inside with an armload of new supplies, kneeling down beside the coated form on the cave floor. Large hands twisted several sharp herbs he had gathered together inside of a ripped bit of cloth. They would burn like a torch, and the incense they produced would cause anyone to stir. Healing was an option on the forefront of his mind, but one he'd avoid if he could. It would erase the side effects of her plunge, and she was a smart woman. She would likely have questions about that, questions he wouldn't be at liberty to answer. He'd like to avoid all of those such situations if possible.

But if it came down to that or her death, it would be that. He would deal with the unknown consequences of her questions before he'd fail to protect someone who was right in front of him.

He'd rather be faced with her curiosity again, then know that no one ever would.

He'd put some clean snow and leaves into a metal container atop the stove, and they were beginning to boil. The tea wasn't medicinal, but it was warm, and that would help. But what would really help, would be her regained consciousness.

He wafted the smoke from the incense her way, holding his breath in suspense, the tea at the ready. He released the air from his lungs in relief as she stirred, and he traded the herbs for the tea. "Drink this. It will help." Her hands closed around the cup, her trust in his words as flattering as it was terrifying. Didn't she know how close she came to dying because of him? Didn't she know that was a trend that followed him everywhere he went? Why was she so at ease?

Sitting back on his heels, one hand hovered about her shoulder as she drank the tea. His people were martyrs, and they knew what their lives entailed. Lara didn't ask for this- or perhaps she had. Even so, she shouldn't. It was their burden- his burden. Perhaps if she left now, Trinity would leave her be. He wondered if he could convince her of that, but he hated to. And though he'd like to send her to safety, she was needed, here. A risk of her life, but one he felt she might like to take, as much as he didn't enjoy offering it. She would be invaluable in the fight against Trinity. He took in a deep breath, while her eyes were still on the hot liquid in her hands, and he allowed his gaze to trace up to the roof of the cave, but his intent was to look beyond that. Thank you, Lord, for granting her safety...

"You could have left me in that river." Her words were leading, and the response that entered his mind first was not the one he uttered, but he still thought it. There is no one I would not save, if presented the opportunity… but you'd be a fool if you'd think I could leave you.