AN: First, I'd like to apologize. I've been rather busy lately. I had finally gotten into University (Collage) after STAT tests and portfolio submissions, so that was a crazy month. Then I had to get all that followed sorted, and THEN it was first week at University time. So all my time has gone right out the window, and I'd completely forgotten about this story. I logged on after what seemed like ages, and saw all your lovely reviews...

And I felt so terrible for leaving this so late! Like, terrible! :'(

So I quickly dug up what I'd been working on before life went sideways, and here I am, I've got 5 mins before I got to get ready for work, So I ninja typed.

All in all, I'm not pleased with this chapter, but I felt like I needed to get something posted for you all. I ninja re-read it, edited it, probably missed a lot of spelling errors and typos, but its HERE! :D

Again, I am terribly sorry, I hope to continue with this one, but I do have other projects that now need my attention.

Happy days and best wishes, enjoy darlings! (I hope...)

The Tomb Raiders Resident

Evil Endures

Chapter 6.

The sight of it brought back the panic and chaos he'd felt on the plane at the time of the crash, the sudden and unnatural storm that took out the plane's engines though leaving the main body of tha aircraft intact, which proceeded to land without exploding in its brutal impact. Something... controled about the whole thing brought unease to Leon as he stood there at the edge of the disaster, couldn't help but feel that this situation was planned, that the Solarii had known about it, were ready for it, had done it before...

Leon moved about the wreckage of metal, noticing that the area seemed more lacking than what he remembered, and he frowned deeply. The luggage that should have been laying about was gone, all possessions taken, scavenged, another alarming thing that the crash lacked, was the absence of what should be there. There were no bodies.

The ash was everywhere, the dark chalk like substance coated the plane, the wreck that was flight 727. Leon could feel a hush over the area, like the people who died here were haunted, even ghosts feel fear, and he maintained his attention, trained eyes looking amongst the area of the crash in hopes to find something of use, something that could give him information. Leon's slow calculated steps halted, booted feet resting on the soil underneath, and he looked down before spotting something. Leon crouched silently, eyes narrowed at the shift of the dirt, the mark printed across its canvas. The imprint of the sole of a shoe, and recent.

Though it held little meaning to him, following the steps wouldn't give him anything but a dead end, because Leon already knew that the cause of the place being so empty was the doings of the Solarii, they'd raided this site, taking everything. A footprint was a sign that there had been people here, but then Leon already knew that, it's the who that concerned him.

Standing up, he proceeded, hands at his sides and ears pealed, the smell of smoke and decay still lingered in the air.

Section B was still in tact, though he was still carefull when he set foot inside, the metal moaning slightly under his booted feet. The inner plane too had been cleared out, aside from the tables and chairs, all and all, there wasn't much left of good use, not anything that he could gather up anyway. Leon moved through the many tables and chairs, chunks of imbedded metal and other parts of the plane that their prior purposes now remained unknown.

He made his way carefully and slowly to the cramped hall that divided the upper levels, where food and drinks were stored, something like a mini kitchen and work place for the flight attendants. Blue eyes caught on the red cross that was marked on one of the draws, and Leon stepped close quickly with hope that he found what he was looking for, his wounds aching with the hope as he opened the draw and took out a box before resting his tired body on the floor.

=tTRR

Leon opened the medical box quickly, not hesitating in pulling the lid as far back as it would go, and his breath stilled at the supplies inside, quickly and silently praising his good luck for such a small and minor detail. The box was full, its contents still in their organised places. Leon brushed his dirtied hands over the sides before digging inside, pulling out the wraps of bandages and gauges, shuffling through the other small bits of equipment, he found what he was looking for.

He took the curved needle from its shielded confinement of plastic, placing it carefully down on a clean part of the floor next to the bandages and pulled out the thin wire like thread. Making quick work, he unbuttoned his one sleeved shirt, easing the material off his shoulders and placed it aside before observing his T-Shirt. Dried blood had soaked through the dark material and gave it a somewhat crusty feel, hooking his fingers under the fabric, Leon carefully eased the shirt up and over his head, hissing for a moment when his ribs again shifted painfully with the action of stretching his arms. With that too placed aside, he looked down at the torn sleeve of his previous shirt, frowning.

The fabric did its job, but now the problem was getting it off, the blood soaking the material had obviously caused it to stick to the wound, and Leon cringed. With another seconds thought, he started to peel back the cloth, inch by inch, hissing and biting his lip when it pulled and tugged on his skin, coming off like the sound of peeling sticky tape from paper. After a moment, Leon signed when it came away, and discarded the now useless fabric aside.

He lent against the plane's inner wall, now holding the threaded needle and staring up through a gap in the aircrafts ceiling, watching the grey sky shift as clouds moved, shielded day light breaking through for a moment. Leon took in a calm breath, closing his tired eyes for a moment, relaxing against the cool metal, before opening them and proceeding, bringing the needle closer to skin of the large cut, and piercing.

Leon's hand wavered as he hesitated with the second stitch, swallowing thickly and looking away for a moment, closing his eyes yet again, shifting uncomfortably against the wall. It wasn't the first time he'd tended to his own wounds, but stitching them together himself was something he admitted never doing before, and the sight of the needle and thread weaving through the torn edges of bloodied skin had his stomach objecting a little. He'd imagine that with all he's seen since Raccoon City would make his stomach coated in steel, but that was a lie, and he knew it. If anything, seeing the sight of wounded and torn flesh had his mind shaken with vivid nightmares again, ears filled with the hungry screeches of the undead, the sound of claws on tile and rubble.

He paused on the 6th stitch, taking a shuddering breath, sweat now gleaming as he continued with the task, frowning in concentration and swallowing down winces. A shaking hand pulled the thread taunt, another loop drawing the separated skin to a close as fresh blood beaded.

A number of many more painful stitches later, Leon signed and swallowed thickly, now setting down the bloodied needle gladly and picking up the roll of white bandages, proceeding to wrap the wound and securing it around his chest. After taking a few long moments to calm, steady his breathing and fight the trembling that had settled in his bones, Leon carefully pulled his t-shirt on again, hands pausing over the other one before deciding he didn't need it.

He didn't know how long he had been there for, but it felt like hours. Casting the medical box a fleeing glance, as he couldn't exactly pack it with him, Leon pulled himself up with straining effort, moaning softly in pain and swaying for a dangerous moment, catching a near by table to steady himself. Hunched over with a hand secured over the now aching wound in his side, Leon found himself wondering if anyone would be looking for him or flight 727. Wondering if his Government sent out search teams to locate the missing plane, either due to the fact that the flight never landed at its destination, or if he'd missed his check in with Hunnigan, he didn't know.

Though despite wanting a team to find the crash site, a inner voice warned him, warned them silently - Stay away.

It was then that Leon realised, that escaping this island would need to be executed by his own actions, he needed to find a way to them, and not the vice versa.

With his vision no longer in a haze of blurred images, Leon blinked back into focus, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, sensors sharpening with what he needs to do. Straightening up, chills plaguing his muscles and ignoring the first signs of a fever, Leon made to move through section B and back the way he'd came. However, what might have been either the shifting of debre that broke the silence of the canyon, or instinct trailing its claw like fingers up the back if his neck, Leon froze.

He wasn't alone.

=tTRR

Moving with silent speed, Leon pressed his back up against the inner plane wall, edging closer and peering out the wrecked window, taking in every detail and comparing it to the image he had fixed in his memory, seeing what was out of place. At first he didn't see anything, but he could hear it. Foot steps, only just audible stating that the person too was trying to be quiet, trailing closer to his position, and no matter how silent the other was trying to be, Leon could hear them.

He crouched low and moved with soundless footsteps, edging over the wreck on the plane, coming to silently stand just before the torn gap in the planes wall, back to the cool metal as his hand reached for the knife he still had tucked in his belt, drawing the blade and holding it close. Leon was still for a moment, listening, mapping out the plane crash like a 3D hologram in his head, and locating the new visitors position, who was walking on the outer side of the plane, next to section B, wearily getting closer to the gap in which he was stationed. A few meters shy from his position, the footsteps stopped for a few seconds and silence followed as Leon waited.

A gun was loaded, the round sliding into the chamber and ready for its deadly flight. Who ever was on the other side of the planes wall knew Leon was there, if not by sound or smell, but by instinct and presence.

Leon's grip on the blade tightened when those footsteps resumed their path towards him, and he readied his muscles, tense and balanced for the fight. He wasn't worried about fighting against someone who had a gun, they hadn't seen him yet, they don't know what he's capable of, and if Leon could surprise them, he'll get the upper hand even though he's only got a knife. Three meters... Leon was calm in the adrenalin, fixed to its thrill, years of experience had him knowing exactly what he was doing, years of training coming to good use. Two meters... Leon could see a faint shadow now on the dirt, see the gun raised in a position that told Leon that who ever this was, hadn't a lot of experience with the weapon, though they were a fast learner, they catch on quick. One meter... Leon could hear breathing, seemingly feel the presence of the other, their bravery, their strength, this person was a fighter.

The mussel of a old gun came into view, and Leon didn't hesitate, he grabbed the mussel of the gun with one hand, pulling it up as the person holding the weapon gasped, reflexes adding pressure to the trigger and setting it off with a bang. Stepping out of the shadows of the plane, Leon twisted the arm with his movement, stepping around the person so he was facing them, his fingers adding force to a sensitive pressure point in the others hand and causing the figure to drop the weapon.

The new comer fought with strength that momentarily surprised him, and a confident fist made contact with his jaw, snapping his head to the side and splitting his lip. Not soon after, a booted foot came up and dealt a blow to his stomach, taking his air and causing him to stumble a few paces back, dropping the Japanese knife. Leon regained his footing quickly, mentally wincing at the ache flaring with fury against the blow to his wound, he hoped the stitches hadn't burst.

Leon caught the second fist that aimed to knock out his teeth, and before his attacker could swing the other, he twisted their arm behind their back, hooking his other arm under their neck in a restraining hold. Leon cursed as the person struggled almost violently, like that of a horse that doesn't want to be broken, and he tightened his hold, grunting as a elbow that drove into his stomach, thankfully missing his wound. Though the effect was the same.

His hold wavered slightly.

A harsh yell sounded, like a battle cry, fierce and never accepting any defeat. Leon may have noted it before, but didn't realise until now that his attacker was a woman, though that didn't lower the threat level. Next thing he knew, was being pulled forward, and Leon's instinct warned him of the move right before he was thrown over the others shoulders.

He landed heavily in a planned roll that didn't leave him winded on the ground, and Leon admitted he was surprised, but that didn't mean it was to his attackers favor. The gun from before, dropped and forgotten, now lay in the dirt within his reach, each grain of sand and fibre holding a story to the islands history. Leon picked up the gun in his roll, remembering that no one could be trusted. Faster than any second, his mind registered the model, skilled hands loaded another round with a click. Leon heard his attacker behind him, and turned with lightning speed, aiming at the woman in a strong stance that spoke Government.

Leon glared, breathing with the strained energy that quickly faded with the adrenalin. The woman, back to the plane, glared back, holding a sleek bow of dark wood with celtic carvings, an arrow notched to the string with deadly precision, aiming back at the agent.

Tired blue eyes locked onto equally tired brown ones, she was a few inches shorter than him, her somewhat innocent soft face framed by long dark brown hair tied back in a pony tail. Her faded blue, now mud stained tank top was torn, as were the cargo pants. A belt adored with pouches, like the one's Leon took aswell, was clipped around her curved hips, where a rather strong looking pick axe could be seen secured there. Torn and shredded fabric was wrapped around her arms and hands, acting as arm guards for the bow she currently wielded. A leather holster was strapped to her left thigh, where the gun Leon held would rest.

Her state and condition, if not for the fierce will power to survive that shone in her eyes, told Leon she was a survivor like he was, and he could connect with a level of understanding. Leon held the gun, but wavered, seeing her do the same, a weariness causing his arms to tremble faintly with holding up the weapon. He took in a steady breath and exhaled slowly, pausing, his mouth opened to say something, to break the silence.

The woman looked like she caught on, her features softening slightly, brown eyes cooling the glare.

No sound left Leon's suddenly dry throat, and he blinked back the sudden spots dancing in old fashioned rhythm before his vision, shifting on his feet, a disturbing ache settling in his wounded ankle. The sound of silence was broken.

A familiar click caused both of them to blink, the womans eyes flickered over his shoulder, and that familiar feel when someone holds a loaded gun to the back of your head swam though him. Leon tensed, the fog retreating with the threat.

"Drop the gun."

A strong angry voice of a woman spoke behind him, and Leon knew she was the one currently holding the gun, even though now that he tuned his sensors outward, there were a total of three people behind him, all of which he could feel were on edge and wouldn't hesitate in blowing his head off. Leon looked at the woman he held at gun point, could see thought process filter like clock work, she looked like she wanted to say something, but otherwise remained silent, the bow remained level.

Leon could see an innocence in her, one that didn't warrant him being an enemy, and vice verse. However, he could feel the distrust and anger seemingly radiate from the threat behind him, and after a moment with another look at the woman in front of him, Leon lowered the gun slowly. Another click sounded the safely on, and he held the weapon out to the side carefully with his hands up, showing a surrender.

He gave the woman a small, almost non existant nod of acceptance, to show his willingness to comply, despite not trusting anyone, he knew they were in the same boat as he, stranded on this island and trying to survive. Almost immediately after displaying his hands, the gun was wrenched from his relaxed grip. He watched as a dark skinned man stepped forth towards the woman, who had lowered her bow, and asked if she was ok, which she nodded, eying the agent in thought.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blow your head off." Came the angry voice again, and Leon resisted the urge to sigh, though what ever he was going to say was cut off by the woman he held at gun point prior.

"Reyes!"

"He tried to kill you, Lara." The woman holding him at gun point, Reyes, replied. Her tone more of a statement than one of concern, which told Leon that these two don't exactly see eye to eye, and that also made him aware that Rayes would indeed carry through with her threat without hesitation.

Lara walked up to them, her eyes flickering between the man and Rayes before setting a pointed look at the older woman. "And vice versa, though in the end it came down to self defence. Besides," Lara looked directly at Leon, a knowing look in her eyes. "-If he wanted me dead, he would have pulled the trigger the moment he got that gun."

Reyes didn't waver, her beautiful dark face edged with a impatient anger that might have come from her fear on the thought of never seeing her daughter again, her strength to escape the island. "That give's us no reason to trust him, anyone out here is a threat. Last time you took a 'survivor' for his word, he kidnapped Sam." She accused, keeping the gun firm against the back of the agents head.

Lara flinched back ever slightly, but held her stance strong, her attention now focused on the other woman. "I know, but I got her back, and she's fine now. Though that doesn't mean we go around killing any survivor we find, then we will be no different than the Solarii." The young survivor said clearly, her words settling a wise hush over the small group, causing the other woman to pause.

Through out this, the straining tremble of his energy began to shake again, and Leon could feel the result of his efforts to remain standing bead on his brow, a faint sting alerting him that his wound was protesting against the blow it took moments before. The ache in his injured leg from the bear trap pulsing a matching rhythm. Leon blinked and re-focused his attention outward, realizing he was being watched closely, and the tension in the clearing simmered, the gun had been lowered.

"Fine." Reyes finally said, her jaw tight. "But if he tries anything, I won't hesitate."

Leon carefully lowered his arms, relieving his tired limbs of their strain to gravity. There was a further somewhat awkward and tense silence that followed, where Leon eyed the three people now standing before him, feeling the untrusting gaze of this 'Rayes' and the other man there standing protectively next to the woman he fought just moments ago, Lara.

She eyed the unknown man for a few moment's, taking in his tired and bloodied appearance. Seeing the strain etching itself around his eyes, which were probably the most piercing shade of color she'd ever seen, a rich, almost baby blue - filled with knowledge and experience that she cannot begin to comprehend. He wore a simple black t-shirt with dark washed out blue jeans, both items of which were covered in a mixture of dirt and blood, the fabric torn in various areas. His face, shielded and framed by a rather stylish haircut of dirty blond hair, consisted of strong cheek bones, jaw and nose, smoothly shaped but with a unshaven feeling of a few days. The man's fringe shadowed his right eye, where it parted on the side, but that didn't conceal the blunt force wound marking his left temple, the blood there dried and thick. Lara guessed by the simple training she took in first aid that the wound had bled a lot, and then there were the high chances of a concussion.

"Were you a passenger on this plane?" She finally asked, breaking the silence and the staring, her brown eye's flickering to the destroyed aircraft then back to the other.

Leon looked wearily at the other two people, before setting his calm gaze back to Lara. "Yes." He answered quietly, because there was no need for volume in the area, it was as still as a grave yard and as quiet as space. Not even the birds nesting in the woods he'd trekked through before dared to fly pass. "I came back for some supplies after a few... difficulties." Leon added after quick thought, his mind partly else were as he silently profiled the three of them. He didn't worry about their number, he knew he could take them on should a fight break out, because just like Rayes had said, you can't trust anyone, not even other survivors. However Leon had no intention to start a brawl, because if they all wanted the same thing, to escape the island, then it would be better if they work together.

Though that didn't mean he wasn't going to consider the possibility of their threat. However strangely, Leon found himself making eye contact with Lara again, and a silent understanding seemed to pass between them, whether they were aware or not, or if they even knew what that understanding was. There was a connection, and a connection means the chance of trust.

"My name's Lara.." She said after a moment, giving a small smile, and she either chose to ignore the others glances or she didn't care, Lara jestered to the other two. "The lady who tried to shoot your head off is Rayes, and the big buy is Jonah." While Rayes didn't acknowledge her introduction, Jonah simple nodded to the man.

Leon returned the look, before settling his eye's yet again to Lara's brown ones with thought. "I can't exactly say it's nice to meet you, in a place like this." He admitted, and he could see Lara agree. "I'm-" However, his voice was cut off by more sets of boots on the soil of the crash site, and Leon blinked, turning has gaze as three more people walked up to their position, followed by a womans startled voice of recognition.

"Leon?"

All else forgotten, Leon felt his heart freeze, and his eye's conflicted a mixture of emotions as they landed on a familiar short form dressed in a gamer t-shirt, jeans and mud covered converse.

"...Suzan?"