This is not quite the fic I set out to write here, but I'm really glad it ran away from me and turned into this. I hope you all enjoy it, too!
Story (obviously) contains spoilers for Fallen Kingdom; title comes from a song in the Waitress Broadway musical
The dim light in the roadside hotel room flickered on, and all three of the room's would-be occupants felt some of the built-up tension in their bodies dissipate in the doorway, the single lamp on the other side of the small desk serving as the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel of what had become a very long day.
The authorities had arrived quickly, despite the fact that what Zia told them over the phone sounded like a big joke, but talking to them once they arrived had taken what felt like an entire day in and of itself. Claire started wobbling when they finally stood from the steps after answering all their questions, quickly grasping Owen's arm to keep herself upright. Her adrenaline gone, the pain in her leg was suddenly so sharp, it nearly took her breath away, and one of the officers escorted Owen, Claire, and Maisie to the hospital as Zia and Franklin stayed behind to wrap things up at the Manor. Showing up with the police fast-tracked them through the ER and helped them conceal just how the wound on Claire's leg had come to be. The public needed to know – dinosaur spottings could start at any moment with the nearest town only 5 miles from where they were freed – but that was a problem that could wait until everyone had gotten a few hours of sleep.
The 24-hour pharmacy that filled Claire's prescriptions was conveniently located near a 24-hour Walmart, and they wandered in to pick up a few things – toothbrushes, pocket-sized toiletries, snacks, clothes, plastic wrap and tape to protect Claire's stitches from the shower she couldn't wait to take. Maisie looked a little mesmerized when they walked into the supercenter, and Owen and Claire, with one silent look, wondered just how much of the world outside Lockwood Manor she'd ever been allowed to see.
"C'mon," Owen said with a nod as soon as he turned the light on. He tugged Maisie's shoulder, guiding her into the room, before offering his hand to Claire to help her inside, too. "I got a late checkout; we got the room until three."
Claire let out a small breath of relief and squeezed his arm in thanks before letting go. She landed on the bed nearest the door and began rifling through the shopping bags, looking for the pajamas Maisie had picked out. She held them out to the girl who had taken a seat on the edge of the other bed and said, "Here; why don't you go take a shower?"
"You can go first," Maisie said.
"Sweetie, it's really late," Claire said.
"But you're hurt, and I'm not," Maisie pointed out.
Claire's eyes traveled over to Owen, silently asking what she should do, if this was a fight worth fighting, if she should try to change the girl's mind. One look at Claire told Owen she was awfully close to crying of sheer exhaustion, so he nodded slightly, silently telling her to let it go.
"Okay," Claire breathed softly, shuffling through the bags again to find her own things instead.
"Do you need help?" Owen asked as he watched her stand and balance on one foot, holding off on putting any weight on her injured leg, until she gathered everything she needed in her arms.
"No," Claire said, slowly making her way to the bathroom. She waved the roll of plastic wrap in the air and promised, "I'll be careful."
As the bathroom door shut behind her, Owen let himself fall back against the dresser, knowing that if he sat down on the bed, he wouldn't get up again. He glanced over at Maisie to find her looking at him, and a bit of an awkward silence hung in the air between them. He shot her a grin that he hoped was reassuring, and she returned it briefly before peering into the shopping bag still clutched in her small hand. The water behind the closed bathroom door sputtered to life, Maisie began sorting through her snacks, and Owen simply stayed in place against the furniture. With Claire hurt and back in his life, Blue out there in the wild, and Maisie unexpectedly in his care, he welcomed the silence as a chance to try to silence his own mind.
"You're up, kid," Owen said when Claire slowly emerged from the bathroom, pajamas on her body, plastic still taped around the wounded portion of her leg, and a towel wrapped around her hair.
Maisie shook her head again, claiming he should go next so he could take care of Claire. Owen fought the small laugh that instinctually threatened to overtake him – Maisie had only known Claire for a day, and she'd already picked up on her prideful, stubborn manner – and looked Claire's way again. They shared another glance, wordlessly considering that Maisie might be purposely stalling, subconsciously scared of what she might see if she closed her eyes. Claire knew that between the exhaustion and the medication, she wouldn't remember any of her dreams that night; Owen knew he'd be fine as long as he had a hold on Claire. Claire slightly shook her head and helplessly shrugged. Not quite knowing what else to do, they went along with it, Owen disappearing into the bathroom.
Claire hung the towel she'd used to dry her body across the closet bar next to the counter and unraveled her hair, hanging that towel up to dry, too. It was only after she carefully pushed herself up to sit on the counter next to the sink, inhaling sharply as she accidentally put her weight on the wrong leg, that she noticed Maisie watching her, her eyes focused on where she knew the stitched-up hole in Claire's leg lay hidden behind layers of plastic wrap and tape. Claire needed to take the plastic off, put the antibiotic ointment on the wound, and change the bandage, but she decided to wait as soon as she saw the girl's fearful face.
"I'm okay, Maisie," Claire said. When Maisie didn't move or blink or otherwise acknowledge that Claire had said anything at all aside from shifting her gaze from Claire's leg to her face, Claire smiled gently and added, "I promise."
Maisie simply nodded, her eyes still wide, her expression still scared, and Claire quietly sighed to herself, stilling for a moment before nodding slightly, willing herself to just keep going, and reaching for the hair dryer on the wall.
Owen appeared wrapped in a towel just a few minutes later, far faster than Claire expected and, from the look on his face, far faster than he wanted to leave the hot, soothing shower. Out of excuses, Maisie gathered her pajamas in her arms and headed into the bathroom when Owen told her it was her turn again, and as the door clicked shut, Owen placed his hands on either side of the sink beside Claire and leaned over the counter with a sigh of his own, grateful for the few minutes they'd finally have alone.
Owen glanced into the mirror in front of him, but instead of looking at his own reflection, he gazed at Claire's. She was still sitting on the counter, dressed in the new purple pajama shorts and cream-colored Henley top she'd bought at the store, brushing her long hair out as the hair dryer in her hand whirred. Owen grinned to himself, wondering if she realized she'd picked nearly the same colors of the destroyed clothes he had taken off of her after surviving their first dinosaur apocalypse.
Exhaustion was beginning to seep into his bones, too, but he needed to check in with Claire before Maisie was through. He collected himself and curved around the wall into the main room to put his own clothes on, not noticing the way Claire's longing eyes lingered on his bare back as he walked away. The sounds coming from the area near the sink changed as he dressed, but he didn't think much of it until he returned to the counter and found Claire motionless, breathing steadily but heavily as her glazed-over green eyes stared at nothing in particular in the direction from which he'd come, the still-running hair dryer dangling just above her thigh.
"Jesus," he muttered, grabbing the dryer from her hands and shutting it off. The motion pulled her from her thoughts, her expression startled as he slammed the dryer back into the wall. "You want to add a burn to that gash?" he asked.
"Sorry, I…I didn't…" Claire said.
She spoke in the soft, vulnerable voice of hers that never failed to tug at his heart. She looked utterly drained, completely shell-shocked (and cute in those little shorts), and he thought she was worrying about the dinosaurs, so he told her everything was going to be okay.
"I don't know how," he admitted, unwrapping her leg as he spoke. "And I know what I said when I thought you were gonna push that button, but it's gonna be okay."
Claire shook her head. "No, it's not th…it's not the dinosaurs," she said, her words accompanied by a slight unbelieving laugh.
"What is it?" he asked.
Claire glanced towards the closed bathroom door and said, as if she couldn't quite grasp the idea, "We kind of became parents tonight."
Owen chuckled. "I think it's a little more than kind of."
Claire reached up and buried her hands in her long hair, methodically beginning to weave it into a braid, needing to do something to put something in order. "I'm not going to be good at that, Owen," she said as she worked on her hair. "I'm not going to be a good mom or guardian or whatever I'm going to be to this little girl."
She was trying mightily to keep her voice steady, and Owen knew her fatigue was heightening all her worries and apprehension, but he tossed the plastic wrap on the floor and stood up straight, giving her his full attention. "What are you talking about?" he asked.
"I don't even know how to begin to comprehend what she needs," Claire said, letting go of her hair as she gestured with her hands. "With losing her grandfather and then hearing what Eli said about her origins…what do we do with that, Owen? How do we help her deal with that?"
Owen curled his hand around her knee in a comforting touch and said, "I don't know, Claire."
"We spent years working with dinosaurs that were made the same way, but they don't know that like she knows that," Claire whispered.
"I know," Owen agreed. "It's different."
"And that's not even considering what she went through tonight with the Indoraptor or whatever that thing was…" Claire continued.
"Claire," he whispered, his thumb stroking her skin around her knee.
"We don't really know her," Claire continued. She reached for her hair again to re-do the unraveled braid, her pace quickening with her speech patterns. "We have no idea what her life has been like; you saw her in that store, Owen. It was like we had taken her to Disneyland."
"We'll figure it out, okay?" Owen whispered, letting his fingers lazily caress her thigh as she got herself more worked up. His other hand came to rest on top of hers, stilling her fingers in her hair again. "This unfamiliarity with each other is how all adoptive families start out. She's a unique kid, but not everything about this is unique to us." Claire nodded, letting her hands slip from her hair again and letting his comments about family and us go unacknowledged for now. "Plus, you know, she's nine," Owen said, repeating out loud the same things he'd been mentally telling himself since they walked into that hotel room. "She can tell us at least a little of what she needs."
"Yeah, if she even knows herself…" Claire pointed out. Owen nodded, conceding to her point. "But…" Claire hesitated, the worry in her face giving way to dejection. "I'm not Karen. I'm not a soft person. I can keep a kid alive during a catastrophe, but I'm not patient or caring or…"
"Hey," Owen said, cutting her off. "Claire, you're the most caring person I know."
"Please," Claire scoffed. "You knew me back at the park. I called them assets, Owen."
"Oh, you still cared," Owen said with a bit of a laugh. "You just cared about the wrong thing."
Claire realized how much she had missed that then, having someone who knew when to spare her feelings and when to call her out and tell her the truth. She looked at him with wide eyes and parted lips, hoping he would continue with that train of thought, and he grabbed the antibiotics from the counter, tending to her leg as he explained.
"You fiercely cared about the park and making it the best you thought it could be, and then, when that all went to shit and you remembered why you actually wanted to work there in the first place, you cared so muchabout those animals, you put everything you had into helping them as soon as that volcano started threatening the island," he said.
"Yeah, look where that got us…" Claire mumbled, gasping slightly as he applied the medicine to the area around her stitches.
"And when we were together…" Owen said, ignoring her interruption. Claire stilled again, looking down at him. He kept working on her leg, not meeting her eyes. "You fully devote yourself to whatever you care about, so if Maisie gets to be the beneficiary of that and feel the way I felt when the thing you cared about most was me, then…she's gonna be so lucky, Claire."
"Owen," Claire breathed softly, surprised and touched by his words.
He finally met her eyes and, with a wink, said, "Just maybe leave a little bit of that care for me, too."
The implication behind what he had just said hung between them for a few moments before Claire said, in a subdued tone, "You left me."
"You kicked me out," Owen replied.
"I didn't think you'd really go," Claire admitted.
"I didn't think you'd really let me," he countered.
At that, Claire took a breath and exhaled with a sigh, not sure whether to sob or laugh hysterically like she had done in the bar just a few days ago when they were each on the other side of the "who-left-whom" argument, but at that hour, in that state of mind, sobbing won, and she felt the hot tears that had been threatening to spill out of her eyes for the past few hours finally fall down her cheeks.
"Hey, hey…" Owen whispered as she blinked, pushing more tears down her face. He quickly finished placing the bandage over her doctored leg and stood up again, stepping between her open knees to catch her tears with his fingertips.
"We're so stupid," Claire breathed. "So incredibly stupid." Silent tears fell down her cheeks for a few moments as she allowed herself to cry over missed opportunities with Owen and trepidation over what would come next in this new world, and she didn't try to hide her face as Owen stayed in place in front of her, gently rubbing her shoulders. "I can't do this alone," she finally said as her tears ceased.
"Do what alone?" Owen asked, drying the wet trails on her face with his thumb.
"Maisie," Claire said. "We've essentially already promised her a home, so we have to be better this time."
"We'll be better," he promised, his hands curling around her shoulders again. "We'll try harder. We'll talk things out. I won't leave. You won't tell me to go when we disagree."
"Those words all sound good, but do you think we could really do that?" she asked softly.
"Yeah," he said confidently. "We're idiots; we know we're idiots, and we know we can't be idiots anymore because it's bigger than us now." That drew a small giggle out of Claire, and he dropped his hands from shoulders. "But look, Claire, whether you and I are together in that way or not, you'll never have to do this alone. I'm not going anywhere. And we don't have to be us if that's just too much right now. We can just be…Maisie's people."
"Is that what you want?" Claire asked. "To just be co-parents?"
"I think we owe it to ourselves to try again," Owen said, honestly.
"Third time's the charm, right?" Claire asked.
"That, and I just really fucking want to kiss you right now," he candidly admitted.
With another small chuckle, Claire grabbed the collar of his t-shirt, fisting her hand into the center, and pulled him down to meet her lips in a kiss. Owen's hands immediately found their way to her waist as he returned the kiss, his lips moving effortlessly with hers as if no time had passed at all. When they separated, Owen lingered, leaning his forehead against hers.
"I miss you," she said quietly. Owen immediately nodded his agreement.
"I'm sorry I didn't come back and try to fix things," he said, matching her tone.
"I'm sorry I let you go," she answered.
They both knew they'd need to talk more at another time, but for now, their lips found each other again as Owen took a little step forward and cradled Claire's face in his palms, tilting her head up to meet his. Her knees rested on either side of his hips, and her hands clutched his sides. Their embrace was tender and passionate, but they weren't so lost in each other that everything else had faded away, and when the unmistakable sounds of an opening door reached their ears, they reluctantly let the other go.
Maisie let out a little gasp when she opened the door and saw Claire and Owen, instantly feeling like she'd walked in on something she shouldn't have. She quickly looked away as they separated, taking a small step backwards back into the bathroom.
"No, sweetie, come out; you're okay," Claire said quickly. "We're sorry."
"It's okay; you can kiss," Maisie said with a small shrug.
"Well, thanks for the permission," Owen joked. He placed his hand next to Claire's hip as he leaned against the counter, and Claire playfully rolled her eyes at his answer.
"Are you married?" Maisie asked.
"No," Claire replied.
"How long have you guys been together?" Maisie wondered.
"A few minutes," Owen chuckled.
"What?" Maisie asked, confused.
"Owen," Claire said.
"We'll tell you our long, crazy story on the way home tomorrow, kid; how's that?" Owen offered.
"Okay," Maisie agreed with a nod.
"And maybe you can tell us a little bit about you?" Claire asked hopefully. "If you want to."
Maisie's lips pursed on one side of her mouth as she thought about it. Finally, she nodded again and repeated, "Okay."
Claire tried not to look too relieved as her eyes met Owen's again, and he gently squeezed her waist as he stood back upright, knowing that little word had gone a long way in momentarily assuaging some of her worries. Owen took the towel from Maisie's arms and hung it up to dry, as Claire returned to fixing her hair, finally finishing the long braid and tying it off with her hairband.
Maisie's eyes had stayed on Claire again, and once she was finished, Maisie cautiously asked, "Could you do my hair like that, too?"
Owen grinned again as Claire looked a little surprised by the request. "Oh," she said. "Yes, of course. Come here."
Maisie quickly came to meet her at the counter, standing where Owen had been between Claire's knees, facing away from her. Claire leaned over and grabbed the hair dryer again, and Owen let himself fall against a nearby wall, watching as Claire carefully handled Maisie's hair, clearly afraid of pulling too hard and hurting her. She finished, tying off Maisie's braid with another hairband, and Owen wished he had his phone to take a picture of the girls with their matching hairstyles. Maisie turned to look at Claire, and Claire smoothed a loose piece of hair behind her ear.
"Beautiful," Claire declared, cupping Maisie's chin in her hand, and Maisie smiled.
"Bedtime," Owen stated.
Owen tucked Maisie into the bed nearest the bathroom as Claire gingerly slid off the counter and began making her way towards the bed nearer the hotel room door. Once Maisie was snuggled under the covers, Owen crouched down, putting himself level with her face against the pillow.
"You okay alone over here?" he asked.
Maisie nodded. "You'll just be right there," she said, looking to the other bed. "You're not going anywhere, right?"
"Never," Claire said as she limped by Maisie's bed.
"What she said," Owen agreed. "But if you need anything, even if you just don't want to sleep alone, just climb on in with us, okay?"
Maisie nodded again. Satisfied that she would be okay, Owen stood quickly, catching Claire by the arm before she could hurt herself trying to pull back the covers and climb into the bed in one fell swoop. He held the covers back as she settled onto the mattress, and then he turned off the lights, bathing the room in darkness, the glow of a nearby streetlight spilling through the thin curtains serving as the only source of light. Small, poorly-concealed whimpers came from the other bed as Owen crawled in next to Claire. He looked at her, her face just barely illuminated.
"TV?" he whispered.
Claire nodded immediately, mentally scolding herself for not having been smart enough to pick up a nightlight at the store. Owen grabbed the remote from the table between the beds and turned the television on, flipping through the channels until he found something that looked kid-friendly. Owen and Claire both watched Maisie carefully from their bed. The lights and the sounds seemed to calm her, and she sunk back into her pillow, her eyes already growing heavy.
Crisis seemingly averted, Claire curled into Owen's body, her hand high on his chest, a few fingers slipping under the collar of his shirt to feel his skin, and Owen tugged her closer, burying his nose in her soft hair. He gently pulled at her shirt until he found the small of her back, and he flattened his palm against her bare skin, his fingers caressing gently as the soft fabric of her top fell back over his hand. Claire tilted her head and leaned into his neck, letting a soft sigh escape her lips to tell him she liked what he was doing. Owen turned his head and kissed her hairline. It was the first time they'd shared a bed in ages, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
"Hey," Owen whispered, the low volume on the TV providing them just enough cover to conceal their whispers from Maisie. Claire tilted her head up, meeting his eyes in the soft glowing light. "You're going to be such a good mom," he said. "And I can't wait to watch you become that."
"You're going to be a good dad," Claire whispered back. "She already likes you."
"She likes you, too," Owen assured her.
"Maybe…" Claire whispered.
"She does," Owen repeated. With a confident nod of his head, he said, "We can do this." Claire nodded, too, slowly.
"We can do this," she agreed.
Thank you for reading! Any & all feedback is appreciated :)