She never used to notice scars, not before Yamatai. It struck her as odd; that she'd spent so much of her life capturing them on camera without ever noticing seemed like a mistake. Something ignorant and inexperienced. The scars, literal and figurative, which held together each and every subject of every shot she'd taken in her career had gone unrecognized.

She sat in front of her desktop with her eyes glued to the monitor and a bulky set of high-end headphones blocking out the rest of the world. She had been editing together as many happy memories as she could, but her eyes couldn't see the old footage the same way. It was as laden with scars as the rest of the world, and there would be no escape, even into the past.

With every piece of digital footage she found herself picking them out. The brick and mortar patchwork that held together London's aging buildings. The uneven gait of an elderly man with a cane and raincoat. The face Lara would make whenever her past self had been unknowingly insensitive. It gnawed at her to see.

Her friend wouldn't frown, or gaze at the floor. Old wounds didn't sting, they ached. Instead Lara would shut off for a moment, retreat into herself to fight whatever demon was trying to escape to the surface. It had always been so brief that Sam had never even noticed. Since Yamatai she had seen that look more and more, it had become impossible to miss.

On her screen it was fleeting, but now Sam could see it. In the past Lara would return to the surface within the space of a blink, put on her best smile for her friend, and if need be, fight the demons behind Sam's eyes as well. Sitting at her computer, she choked on the unwelcome weight building inside her, turned away from the screen, and buried her head in her hands while a surge of memories yanked hard on the hooks they'd left in her. Her own scars.

The door of their flat opened with a clumsy creak, colliding with the doorstop, and letting a sharp beam of light invade the gloomy living room. Sam started, heart jumping in pace at the suddenness. It was Lara, just Lara, her breathing caught up with itself and she tried to relax. She stood and moved toward the door.

Lara stood with one arm braced against the thick barrier, shoulders hunched and looking out of breath. "Laid down my motorcycle", she admitted between filling her lungs.

As Sam drew closer the marks of violence, fresh violence, became apparent. New scars. Sam rushed to her side, one hand flying to the light switch while the other attempted to insinuate itself beneath Lara's arm. Lara pushed the hand away, deflecting it with a quick but gentle motion, as she stepped inside. Sam could see it on her face, she was in her head somewhere, fighting hard.

Sam closed the door as Lara stepped inside, but it had cut her. Living with Lara was growing harder, damage between them accumulated and left scars. Scars in how they moved around one another. This was another scar. One Sam knew Lara would see once she resurfaced, one she knew Lara would drown herself in guilt for every time Sam hesitated before touching her.

That was how scars worked. Scars didn't make them stronger, they were like glue holding together a cracked glass, they simply kept it together.

Lara walked to the washroom the clean herself up. Alone.

Sam took off her headset, rose to her feet, and began to drag them down the hall to her room. Past Lara's door. She stopped there and pressed her shoulder to the frame, staring at the knob as if it were a padlock. It used to be this door was always open to her. She knew she could enter whenever she needed, whether Lara was inside or not; she had been welcome. It didn't feel like that anymore, another scar, she knew. The door wasn't the barrier keeping her out, the scar was.

She felt enough like punishing herself that she gripped the knob anyway, and stepped into the room without turning on the light. She took a few steps across the tidy floor and sat on the edge of the bed, feeling her eyes burn.

Sam had been sleeping in Lara's bed when she stumbled in. Under the covers she felt warm, safe. Curled into a pillow that retained Lara's scent, Sam felt okay. Her eyes drifted open as the door opened. Her flatmate stumbled in, dropping her arse onto the corner of her bed with no idea it was occupied.

The sudden motion dragged Sam further from sleep, and she tried to focus her eyes, but only Lara's silhouette could be made out in the darkness. Still, she smiled, and wondered whether she should speak or feign unconsciousness. Lara was always so sweet when Sam seemed to be asleep.

Her decision was made when a heaving breath came from Lara's lungs and she placed her face into her palms. There, on the corner of her own bed, in assumed solitude, she shook with a silent sob, mouth covered to conceal any sound. It felt like a violation of Lara's privacy to see this, something she'd clearly meant to hide.

Pushing the blanket off of herself, Sam slowly rose up in the bed and placed her arms around her knees, immediately alerting Lara to her presence. They shared a moment of tension as Lara winced uncomfortably and wiped at her cheeks with her wrists, as if she could still hide what she'd been doing.

"Lara?", she called across the bed in place of a question. It took a moment for Lara to compose a reply.

"I didn't see you there", was all that she said when she spoke, and even in the dark Sam could imagine her vacant look as she fought demons, forming new scars behind her eyes.

Sam stood, and slapped the light switch groggily. She immediately felt a tense discomfort behind her eyes as they adjusted, but shaded herself with her hand. Lara made no such effort, she just sat on the corner of her bed with her hands dangling over her knees and her head hung. She looked ashamed.

Even when Sam gently placed herself beside her, Lara barely moved, she closed her eyes, swallowed hard, but remained otherwise still. Sam's hand took Lara's far cheek, and her lips took the one closer. The gentle, soft pressure lasted for a full second before withdrawing so that she could speak.

"Will you tell me ab-"

"No", it felt sharp, and Sam withdraw her hand as if Lara's skin were burning her. She immediately regretted it when she saw it sink in, hurting Lara somewhere only she could see. All of these tiny wounds, little cracks in their persons that would fill with uncomfortable scars, and never be the same again. Her throat burned.

"Then… Maybe just come to bed?", she did her best to sound hopeful. Lara stood, and Sam immediately grabbed for her hand. Lara tensed. It was bleeding.

For a moment they held stock still together, while chaos exploded inside of Lara's brain, the lean and powerful muscles all through her body flexing in contest of one another. It passed, and she seemed to relax.

"Let go, Sam", she said firmly, holding stock still. "Let go, and go wash your hand."

Sam did release her grip, reluctantly, but now her eyes were swimming. A greater part of her wanted to hold Lara's hand and kiss the damaged knuckles, but she knew Lara would never forgive herself.

"Okay, bu-"

"Now! This is serious, Sam."

She was taken aback, and something inside her broke. She stood again, and slowly dragged herself to the door, wondering to herself over and over whether Lara could love her again, if she turned out to be sick, too? She wandered into the bathroom, closed the door, turned on the water, and after taking a deep breath, licked Lara's blood from her fingers. Maybe, she thought, if Lara didn't have to worry about this one thing, they could be close again.

Lara was furious, and Sam was terrified. She backed away from Lara, letting the sheet of paper drop from her hand.

"Please, I just wante-", she began but Lara was having none of it.

"No, Sam. No. I gave everything I had to protect you." She advanced on her friend, swelling with a rage that made her seem twice her normally modest height. "How could you?"

"I just…", sobs were rocking her diaphram, and speech was nearly impossible, her shoulders her the wall behind her, and she had nowhere left to retreat to. Lara put her hand against the wall beside Sam's head and glared holes into her. She looked vacant, despite her rage, like she'd finally lose the battle with her demons. Like she was more scars than Lara anymore.

"I just wanted you to love me again", Sam choked out shamefully, hiding beneath her bangs.

The blow twisted her head to the side and dropped her to the floor. It struck her silent, and suddenly the room felt completely empty. There wasn't enough noise to conceal the drop of a pin. Lara had struck her.

When she looked up, Lara was staring at her palms, horrified. Her hands shook, and tears welled in her eyes. "Oh my God… Oh my God", she stammered. After that Sam could only see her mouth moving, apologizing over, and over, scarring herself ad nauseum for what she'd just done.

She reached out to Lara, she knew it would leave a scar between them, she knew that every time she hesitated to touch Lara now it would carry a new kind of scar, one they had never had before. Lara had only ever kept her distance to protect the one she loved, and now she was tearing herself apart behind her eyes with seeming will to destroy herself.

Sam hadn't seen Lara since then. It had been two weeks. She sobbed on the corner of Lara's bed, skin feeling tight over her newly poisoned blood. Even that would be okay if she could just be near Lara. She didn't want to imagine Lara alone, with that severed look in her eye, destroying herself. She wondered if there would ever be anything more of them than scars.