"What is he doing?!"
Barry looked up from his data-log at the shrill, nearly feminine squeak as he approached the raptor pen with a fresh bucket full of morsels for the pack, or 'squad', as most everyone in the park had affectionately dubbed them back during the hatchling days.
Nonplussed by the rapid, panicked breaths he could hear and the sound of the girls squawking in their cage, he lowered his tablet and blinked at the pale, terrified form staring in abject horror at the bars, legs quaking and face totally bloodless. It was a wonder the boy was still standing.
"What's wrong?" he asked, immediately clamping down on his initial wish to turn around and run for his life. He'd kind of lost the ability to properly know when it was appropriate to escape to the hills working at this park, but adrenaline never could quite eliminate years of gut instinct. There was never a dull moment here, that was for sure.
The guy – a boy, probably just into his twenties – nearly leaped into the air at Barry's voice, but he managed to gain slight control of himself and turn shakily to stare at his superior, shell-shocked and gaping like a fish, voice squeaky and inaudible.
Barry, hackles rising as he immediately began to assume the worst, raised a hand to grab his walkie even as his eyes raked all across the pen's main doors and locks, assessing them for damage and ready to leap into action at the first sign of trouble.
But there was nothing; the entrance was still closed up tightly, locked properly and showing no signs of damage. The alarms set to detect if the raptor's trackers went beyond the set perimeter weren't blaring.
Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, the older man opened his mouth to ask what was wrong again when the boy raised a quivering arm and pointed, not at the cage, but into the cage, at the predators currently chirping contently in the afternoon sunlight.
Still confused, Barry focused harder on the scene, not seeing anything wrong; the raptors were relaxing for the moment, full and happy after a successful hunt out in the restricted area of the island, cawing at each other and nipping playfully, their tails waving behind them and only narrowly missing their handler-
Oh.
"You're the new guy, aren't you?" Barry asked, face slowly forming a smile as he allowed the tension in his shoulders to loosen and turning away from the fence to see the startled wide-eyed stare he received in return.
"Ahhhuummm….. yes?" he whisper-squeaked, unsure of himself for a moment.
Barry grinned and chuckled, shaking his head and clapping a hand on the man's still trembling shoulder. "It's alright, new guy; Owen's fine. They like to cuddle."
Deeming this explanation enough, Barry slipped away, whistling quietly to himself now that he knew they weren't all about to be munched on by a pack of velociraptors, ignoring the flabbergasted choking sound that came from the kid's throat as he stared in awe at the pen.
Inside, a very relaxed, very intact and not-mangled Owen Grady stood within his quartet of murderous dinosaurs, humming tunelessly to himself as Echo nuzzled his face and Charlie barely avoided smacking him with her tail as she spun about in excited circles, Delta lazily half-chasing birds in the background and Blue leisurely placing her head on her alpha's shoulder, listening to the strange noises he was making and occasionally chipping in with her own high chuffs and chirps.
"That's lovely, Blue, but you gotta try to keep a beat going; if you slack off in the middle it doesn't sound right," he instructed, poking the big lizard on the nose and making her sniff indignantly, gaining a sound from Echo and a head tilt from Charlie. Delta was too busy ignoring them to care.
The kid, still gaping weakly at the scene, jumped when Owen suddenly noticed his audience and looked at him, prompting his beta to follow his gaze and blink curiously. "What do you think, man?" Owen asked, patting Blue's head. "Did she hit the third note right?"
Blue growled lowly, as if daring him to even suggest she didn't hit the note right.
Barry would later complain that making the kid faint was a step too far, but Owen was laughing too hard to care.
A/N: Here! A late and sort of stupid Father's Day present for the best alpha-daddy of them all, Owen Grady! It could also be a birthday present for Chris Pratt, so it's a win-win! Hope you enjoyed!
~Persephone