No one knew what to do at first. It all seemed surreal, as if they had just witnessed the end of the world and somehow were the only survivors, with nothing else to do, nowhere else to go. Claire didn't know how much time has passed before she felt Owen shift beside her, his hand under her own lacing their fingers together, Maisie's small figure tightly pressed between them like the new ragtag family they were now.

One glance towards him told her all she needed to know and she was surprised for a brief second to see his eyes so soft. As if they wanted to promise her everything would be alright, that he would take care of her, of them. That, no matter what happened, he would be there. She dared to read those things in his eyes, hoping that whatever they had in the last two days wouldn't just vanish like snow in April.

Truthfully, she had missed him. A lot. She lost count of all the times she had wished her controlling personality and pride didn't get in the way of their relationship. She knew she wasn't the only one to blame in this, but she couldn't help to feel this sadness, almost guilt-like, at having pushed him away. She wasn't good at relationships, never had been, but god did she try. And she wanted to try again.

She didn't want to seem desperate, didn't want to force him to do anything. Despite her constant want to control everything, she didn't want to control him. In the short time they had been together in-between both incidents, he had made her a better person, had taken care of her, had made her laugh and made her want to stay in his arms while not giving a shit if the rest of the world burned. He made her feel home and she only realized that when he was gone, car door slamming in the moonlight as he drove away in his bungalow, disappearing at the end of the street to never be seen again. Seeing him leave her those two, if not more, years ago was a nightmare she had as regularly as seeing her nephews shredded to pieces by too many teeth.

And so, as she looked back at him, her eyes shining with tears she didn't want to show him, she smiled shyly. Because, they were alive, all of them. Because, despite the fact that the world was about to burn, right now, they were together. Because they had another human being to take care of, a semblance of a family, a responsibility far greater than any job they had ever had. Because, if it was all going to disappear later, at least right now, Claire was at peace.

It was a conversation they'd need to have, Owen implied as much in their cell right before it all went to hell. Come to think of it, it all went to hell three years ago, that fateful day on Isla Nublar, when nothing matter to her more than making the park prosper. And Claire was glad to know he wanted to talk about this, about them.

But preferably with less people around, not that she didn't love them all.

She didn't know what Owen saw in her own eyes, but he shifted again, this time letting go of her arm and unlacing their fingers. Claire felt a ping of fear for the split second it took him to walk around her and drape her other arm around his shoulders, effectively supporting her weight.

"We need to get this checked out," he said, motioning to her thigh. As if on cue, the adrenaline wore off and Claire realized how much it hurt to just stand. She remembered how hard it had been to climb those stairs after them, holding a gun that weighted more than she thought it would, looking for them while her heart hammered in her chest at the fear she might be too late, her leg hastily bandaged in what she hoped would be enough. And she didn't feel all of the pain at that time because of the adrenaline.

Gritting her teeth, she tried to come up with a sarcastic reply, to prove to Owen that she didn't need to be babied, that she could walk, thank you very much, but the moment she shifted her leg, it gave way beneath her. Owen was there to catch her, one of his hands holding her firmly by the waist, the other raised in front of her to shield her head. Maisie squealed and her blanket fell off her shoulders as she reached for Claire's hand, doing her best to help her despite her three seconds late reaction (Claire loved her for it anyway).

"You're hurt!" she cried, concern etched on her face as she looked at the bandage, now soaked in red. Claire hadn't even realized it had bled through.

"I'm okay…" Claire answered, smiling through gritted teeth, sweat started to form on her forehead. She knew deep down that she wasn't and the control freak she was kept telling her that she should go to a hospital, call 911, lay down and try to stay calm so she doesn't go into shock, maybe even cauterize the wound if all else fails. She was no doctor and her experience at the Red Cross or T-Rex-rodeo-riding-while-sampling-some-blood-in-a-giant-bag wasn't enough, she knew that, but she was a fairly prepared person, or she tried to be. So she made sure to know the basic things when it came to medicine, just in case… well something like this happened. Because despite what her sister might think of her after she agreed to go back to Isla Nublar, she deeply valued her life.

"No, you're not," Owen's gruff voice said on her right. He replaced his hold on her and turned to Zia. "You ever treated a wound like this?"

Zia shook her head. "I'm a veterinarian, not a doctor, but I can do this."

In that moment, Zia suddenly became the one in charge, because the next second, she was kneeling in front of Claire, her hands already feeling the muscle in her thigh for any major ruptured veins. Claire winced and if Owen didn't trust Zia, he might have punched her here and then.

Zia's hands were then on Claire's neck, checking her pulse, feeling the temperature of her skin, looking at her pupils. "We need to move fast. That bandage as long stopped doing its job and I need to sew that wound up." She turned to Maisie. "Do you know if you have any kind of medical kit?"

They started climbing the stairs back to the manor, Franklin holding the doors open for lack of a better thing to do but the way he was chewing on his bottom lip told he was as anxious and worried as everyone else. Zia grabbed Claire's left side and quickly helped her up the rest of the stairs, almost lifting her above the steps with Owen's combined force and Claire's lack of resistance.

Her vision had started to tunnel and she felt hot and cold at the same time, as if her legs were inside the volcano on Isla Nublar, her wound burning like a coal on her thigh, while simultaneously having her head placed in a fridge. She wanted to say that blood loss really was a bitch, at which she was sure Owen would laugh, but nothing came out of her mouth other than groans and winces whenever someone accidentally jostled her injured leg.

By the time they were inside the hall, the old paintings on their right and Claire hazily wondered why John Hammond looked so fucking damn pleased, she could only hear half of what they were saying. It all felt as if her head was underwater, the voices around her distant and distorted. She could feel the vibration of Owen's deep voice the best, and despite the fact that she knew he was right next to her, she had to turn her head in his direction to make sure he actually was. He was telling her to hold on but she couldn't tell him that she wasn't going anywhere, that she'll stay with him.

From the way her head lolled to the side and her eyelids dropped, Owen guessed she was close to passing out, so he yelled something to Zia. The woman was talking softly to Maisie, but Claire couldn't understand what she was saying. She was barely able to focus on the fast movements of her lips as it was.

The next moment, Franklin dashed upstairs and Maisie disappeared in a corridor on the left, leaving Claire alone with Zia and Owen. Before she could say anything, they were taking her to a door on the right. The next few seconds were a blur for Claire, her head rolling and her eyes catching hues of different colors, textures of office ceilings, soft velvet on very old and expensive chairs, all of them somehow mysteriously intact after that hell of a night.

They crossed a few rooms before entering a larger office, with a desk that seemed to suit Zia just fine because she pointed at it, Owen moving wordlessly, almost like a trooper. Claire did her best to try to focus on him when she couldn't focus on anything else in the room, her head spinning and making her dizzy. She wondered for a moment if that's how he looked in the Navy, focused and all, the mission being the only thing on his mind. Despite the fact that he had called her a control freak once, she figured he was a bit like that as well, always wanting to make sure everyone was safe, doing the right thing, first for his girls, then for her, then for the rest of their ragtag group. He was a born leader, a charismatic individual that others wanted to revolve around almost on instinct. Probably because he felt like home and safety, because he seemed confident and wouldn't take any shit, from anyone.

Especially from her.

She was just dimly aware of the fact that they were trying to get her on the desk when Zia left her side and if it hadn't been for Owen, she would have collapsed like a ragdoll. "Wow, easy," he said as he caught her and she got a very close view of his worried features.

"Owen…" she barely whispered, the pain still lingering, but somehow less present now that her vision was less and less focused, that her mind seemed to slowly slip away, that she felt her body become numb. "I'm…"

"Shhh, it's gonna be alright. We'll fix this okay? We will." He was holding her so gently, like a precious thing that his large calloused hands might break with the slight brutal movement. One of his hands now rested between her shoulders blades and his index finger brushed against the back of her neck. She was sure it would have sent shivers down her spine if she wasn't so out of it. The other hand had moved to her knees, or rather below it and strangely enough, she felt the pain less and less.

She tried to focus on his voice when her sight became so blurred she could no longer distinguish his eyes from his nose. He kept repeating those words to her while holding her close, and she wondered if he was trying to reassure her or himself. Somewhere in the distance far away, she could hear noises, like things being violently thrown to the ground, Zia having decided that all that was on the desk needed to be gone.

She barely had time to register Owen's "here we go" before she was suddenly lifted in the air, so easily she wondered if Owen was this strong or if she was this light, before her back made contact with a hard and flat surface. To her, it seemed like all of this had happened in an hour, whereas she knew it couldn't have been more than three minutes.

She tried to move when she felt her consciousness slipping, tried to fight it, to hold on like Owen was begging her to. But when she moved her body, there was only pain. She had wondered before if the Indoraptor had caused more damage than just the hole in her leg, had wondered about bruises and broken ribs, but truthfully, she had been so caught up in the action, she hadn't taken any measures besides the bandage to insure her injuries weren't aggravated in her rush to reach Owen and Maisie.

The last things she felt before darkness engulfed her completely where Zia's hands taking off her bandage and cursing at all the blood that spilled, the wetness of it running down her leg barely registering in her tired brain, and Owen's hands on her, one in her own squeezing it tight and the other on her cheek.

"Claire? Claire! Wake up honey!" Owen tried to shake Claire lightly when her eyes fluttered close. Her breathing was getting shallower in seconds. He didn't like the paleness of her skin, despite how beautifully it was making her freckles stand out, nor did he like its clamminess.

Zia heard him and checked Claire's pulse with one hand, smearing red on the white skin there, keeping the other on the wound, now that blood was flowing freely. "She passed out. We need to hurry. Where's Franklin?" She yelled that last part at the door they just came through, as if to summon the young man.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed back both hands on the wound. "I need you to do exactly as I say."

Owen nodded gravely, face all serious again as he did his best to put to the side his concern for Claire. "I need something to cut her pants." Owen let go of Claire to look for something sharp that would do the job when Franklin entered the office, panting.

"There you guys are!" He almost threw the first aid kit at Owen and ran to the desk. "Is she gonna be okay? Oh my god, there's so much blood!"

Zia didn't even spare him a look and gestured with her chin for Owen to open the kit on the desk next to her. Franklin couldn't take his eyes off of Claire, and so Owen stood in front of him. "Go help Maisie, I don't like leaving her all alone. We got this." He also wasn't sure how Franklin could help them seeing how pale he looked, almost as if he was about to pass out.

Once Franklin was out of the room, Owen turned to Zia. She had let go of the wound and was already cutting through Claire's pants with a pair of scissors, cutting a neat hole all around the wound. She threw the dirty fabric on the ground along with the soiled bandage and cleaned her hands with antiseptic before she started to wash the blood away, soaking most of the desk and disinfecting the wound. "Okay, now dab on the wound while I prepare the thread. The wound is deep, but it's not infected."

Owen did as he was told and wiped the blood. After a moment, the red stopped flowing and Owen could see the wound cleaned for the first time. The hole wasn't as wide as he thought, but it was deep. He stepped to the side while Zia started sewing it shut, her face scrunched up in concentration. Owen returned to Claire's side and grabbed her hand, keeping an eye on her vitals.

Once Zia finished the last stitch, she cut the thread and cleaned the remaining of the blood that had seeped through. It wasn't exactly pretty, but Owen had to admit it was a good fix and it didn't seem like it would rip at Claire's slightest movement. She also applied a fresh bandage on it to protect it. "Okay, I think we're good. I'll go through the meds they might have here and see if I can find some painkillers."

Owen nodded. "I'll stay with her until she wakes up," he said, his gaze settled on Claire's peaceful face now that it was over.

Zia smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "We'll be in the kitchens. Come whenever you're ready." The fact that she didn't say "whenever Claire wakes up" made him smile. He only knew her for two days, but Claire had been working with her for the better part of the last three years and he trusted her judgment. Not only because she used to interview every single employee in Jurassic World but because he knew she was so much more professional than all of them.

The first thing Claire noticed when she started to wake up was the pain. It was different this time. Before, it felt like sharp needles were piercing her entire thigh and every movement hurt. Now, it was as if her entire leg was on fire, burning and searing. She whimpered a little as her head rolled to the side, her eyes fluttering open.

She was greeted by Owen's smiling face. "Hey." His voice was as soft as the fingers brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear.

"Hey."

Claire blinked a few times before she shifted on the desk and immediately winced when she moved her leg. "Careful. Zia stitched you up, but I wouldn't walk on that leg for at least a week." Owen was expecting Claire to argue and try to do things her own way. So he wasn't surprised when she attempted to sit up. She actually succeeded, holding onto his arm for support but immediately closed her eyes and frowned. One of her hands went to her forehead and the one gripping Owen's biceps went to the place right under her chest.

"You hurt elsewhere?" Owen suddenly became very aware of the fact that she might have injuries he knew nothing about, the wound in her leg being the only one visible.

"Splitting headache," Claire said, trying to breathe through the pain but keeping her eyes closed. "And I think I sprained a rib or two… or really bruised them, I don't know." And Owen knew they'd only know if they do some x-rays. Bringing Claire to a hospital seemed more and more like the only option left for her to fully recover, but Owen knew Claire wouldn't want to go.

He gently pried her hand from her body, as gentle as ever. "Let me take a look." She suddenly became very red and Owen only realized the innuendo of what he just said once she was as red as her hair. "Hum… that's not what I…"

She looked at him and he looked back, both of them dirty and blooded, tired to the bone and probably dehydrated to boot. They moved almost in sync, her hand brushing the stubble on his face and his hand setting behind her ear, smoothing down some of the hair that was standing because she was lying down for so long. They didn't kiss, just pressed their foreheads together, simply present, simply there, breathing in each other's scent and calming down, because they were both alive and that's all they needed for now.

"I'm sorry. About everything." She spoke first, eyes glistening and voice raw with emotion, so honest Owen couldn't help but lean even closer and wrap her in his embrace.

"It's okay. We're okay and we're together."

It seemed an eternity had passed before he released her and she smiled at him. "Together hmm?"

He smiled back. "Well, I hope so?"

She nodded and said more firmly "Together."

After that, she pressed her lips against his, sealing their newfound but oh so natural arrangement, like two pieces of a puzzle fitting perfectly together. They had their flaws and their weaknesses, but she believed they could make this work. And Owen sure as hell made her think he thought the same the way he kissed her back.

His fingers were trailing the length of her ribcage a few minutes later, checking the skin and trying to guess what state the bones underneath were in. He was no doctor, so he couldn't say if she broke some ribs or just sprained them, but there was an extensive area of purplish bruises just below her bra line where the tree in that exposition had fallen on her. Claire seemed to be able to breathe normally so he crossed the possibility of a pierced lung. Besides, she wouldn't have been able to do all the things she did so far if her lungs had a hole in them or were filling up with blood. He shuddered at the thought that she'd already be dead if such a thing had happened.

From the little experience he had with injuries, he would guess she had just really bruised her torso, but he wanted to make sure and asked if she was willing to go to a hospital to do x-rays. She blatantly refused at first, her mouth set in a firm line, eyes glaring despite her exhaustion and pain. But Owen managed to strike a deal with her: they'd go to the hospital once they were close to a city, but they wouldn't hurry up to leave this place. Which, in Claire's book, meant not going to the hospital for at least two to three days, and Owen sighed. But since she promised she'd tell him if anything changed in her condition, he could only agree.

He tried to keep his stare strictly professional and if she thought he was looking a little bit too long at her breasts, she didn't say anything. The sexual tension between them had been present from day one, but neither dared acknowledge it. And right now, they had other things to take care of.

Which is why Claire promptly put her shirt back on and insisted she could get down on her own, but Owen reminded her she shouldn't walk, so until they found her a pair of crutches, he made a point of caring her everywhere. "How's your headache?" he asked as he crossed the manor, looking for the kitchens. She shifted a little in his arms, snaking her arm around his muscular frame and signed, her other hand absent-mindedly rubbing at her temple.

"It's a bit better, but it's still there. I don't think it's a concussion though." Owen was glad to hear it.

He found the kitchens at last and he would have doubled over with laughter if he wasn't holding Claire in his arms. Zia was sitting on a table, her feet dangling on the edge, a bowl of fruit in her hands. Franklin was lying on the ground next to empty bottles of water, and mostly soda, while Maisie was munching on a peanut butter sandwich. All around them were different foods, a whole bag of potato chips, some vegetables that no one touched, peanuts, dried fruit and some desserts backed the day before.

Maisie waved at them when they entered and Owen put Claire down on a chair. "Help yourselves guys," Franklin said. "There's enough food to last us at least three days, and I didn't count all the cans in the pantry." Claire and Owen didn't wait any longer and dug in. While they ate and Maisie slowly drifted off to sleep in a corner, the exhaustion having caught up with her, Zia showed them a few things.

"These are useful painkillers I found. Most of them were Maisie's grandpa's, but I guess we can use them." She stayed quiet for a few seconds before she continued. "His body wasn't there anymore, so I guess evil dude moved him somewhere, maybe even took him off the property. That lady taking care of Maisie? She's gone as well, but I'll keep looking for a way to contact her." She pushed a pair of crutches towards Claire. "You're gonna need those. 'Cause I'm not letting you ruin my handy work."

"Thank you Zia, for everything."

"Don't mention it. Take two of those pills if it hurts too much. They might make you sleepy though and you have to wait at least eight hours between each take. Sorry." Then she put a phone on the table. "I already called my folks and Franklin called his dad. I don't know what you want to do, but I think it's safe to say we're not moving anywhere until we had some rest. I don't think the police will bother us here anytime soon, seeing as they probably have a lot of shit to deal with right now."

And just like that, Claire's appetite was cut short when she thought about all the harm the dinosaurs were probably currently doing in California. She still felt like it was her fault, despite the fact that she had refused to press the button that released them all. Sensing her unease, Owen squeezed her hand.

Claire's body was pressed against Owen's that night, the same way it had been the night before, with her hand slightly inside his shirt, but this time they were lying down. He had told her he kinda liked her hand there and so she didn't bother to take it away. She hadn't been able to effectively sleep despite her exhaustion, the pain jolting her awake every few minutes. Everyone around her was sound asleep, Zia having crashed next to Maisie while Franklin remained where he was. Claire and Owen had spoken in hushed whispers for a while before he fell asleep as well, his arm comfortably resting on her hips like a life line.

She quickly checked his miraculously still intact watch and realized everyone had been asleep for six hours now. She gently pried herself away from Owen, trying to make as little noise as possible and managed to stand up by leaning on the crutches. She had been reluctant to use them, but there was no way she would let Owen carry her everywhere.

Slowly, she crept through the kitchens, the only noises in the room being Franklin's light snoring, the pitter-patter of her crutches and her occasional grunts of pain and effort. She grabbed the phone on her way out and managed to reach the entrance hall before she roughly sat on the stone stairs.

Sunlight was started to pour through the windows and she figured it was day already where her sister lived so she dialed her cell. And if it was still night, well... While she waited, Claire tried to come up with a plan. Owen had called his relatives before he fell asleep, letting them know he was still breathing despite what they heard in the news about the volcano eruption on Isla Nublar. His relatives didn't actually know he was on the island but were glad to know he was alright. He also explained to them how dangerous some dinosaurs were and walked them through some safety protocols, inviting them to walk other people through them, as a way to minimize the damage that was sure to come.

All the things Claire was ready to say were erased from her mind the minute her sister's voice came through the phone. "Hello?"

Claire could immediately tell Karen had spent the last couple of days crying. Everything in her voice screamed grief and sadness. Her divorce with Scott had taken a toll on her and Zach's departure for college didn't help, especially since his school was at least a hundred miles away from their new place. Claire had come to visit more times in those last three years than she had seen the boys since they were born. They had finally started to be a family, when Claire messed it all up. Her last conversation with Karen ended up with her yelling at Claire for being crazy and suicidal and with Claire slamming the door shut on her way out of their apartment.

"Hi Karen…" she said shyly.

She didn't know what else to say. So many things had happened in such a short time… She heard her sister's sharp intake of breath at the end of the line and then her crying. Her words were so jumbled and unarticulated through all the tears that Claire only got half of it, but she understood how relieved her sister was, how angry also she was at her for scaring her like that "for the second time in three years Claire!"

Half-way through it all, Claire started crying herself and both sisters spend a solid ten minutes crying on the phone and comforting each other as best as they could. Claire told Karen everything that had happened, although she did make her injuries seem less serious than they actually were. Karen couldn't help but squeal with joy when she heard about Maisie and the fact that Claire and Owen would try to adopt her (something she had discussed with Owen before he fell asleep).

Slowly, their tears dried out and Claire promised to come spend a few days, even an entire week with Owen and Maisie, once she was sure everything was settled on her end. Karen also listened through all the precautions Claire told her to take when it came to dinosaurs and she briefly even talked to Grey, to her delight.

It's only when she hung up and put the phone down that she noticed Owen leaning in the doorway of the corridor leading to the kitchens. "How long have you been there?" she asked softly, without any trace of anger because she knew that Owen wouldn't listen to her conversations on purpose. He sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

"Not long, less than a minute." She leaned against him. "How are you feeling?"

"Like crap."

Concerned, he pulled away to get a proper look at her face and she smiled reassuringly. "I don't feel any worse than before, don't worry. I just… I just want to get out of here, start to put some distance between us and all of this."

He pulled her closer, mindful of her injuries. "You haven't slept at all, have you?"

He knew her so well. Although, the dark circles under her eyes and her weak posture probably gave her away. "No," she shook her head. "It hurts too much."

Owen shot a glance at his watch. "You can't take another pill yet."

"I know. It's okay, I'll wait. I'm fine like this." She nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck and he smiled.

"Maybe we should find a bed or at least a couch. Something more comfortable than the floor…"

"Okay…"

Owen quickly went back to the kitchens to leave a note for the others and bring the phone back. They crashed on the couch in what looked like a private living room on the ground floor, solely because the cushions looked really nice. Owen lay on his back and Claire climbed on top of him, doing her best to avoid hitting her injured leg. It took her a few minutes to find a comfortable position, but she finally managed to settle down. Sleep eluded her for another good hour, but somehow, Owen's strong and protective arms around her lulled her to sleep.

When Owen woke up a few hours later, he felt rested and so much better than twenty four hours prior. He realized it was almost noon but he didn't care. He had once again escaped death by a genetically created and rampaging hybrid with too many teeth; he figured he had the right to sleep in. Especially since Claire was sound asleep in his arms.

He worried about her, had worried about her since their breakup. Because when they were together, he could be there for her. He wasn't her knight in shining armor, wasn't there to save her. He was her partner, he was working with her and that's when they were at their best. In truth, she had saved him as many times and as much as he had saved her. Truth, it wasn't always perfect, sometimes it was even the opposite. But he was certain they could make it work. Just looking at the way they almost took the Indoraptor down together proved that.

And they both needed to work on themselves. She was making him a better person. And even if he felt the need to protect her, he knew she was perfectly capable of looking out for herself. But, just like everybody, she needed someone to understand her, accept her and maybe, from time to time, save her from herself. Claire was working too much, that was her way of living, but also of coping. When they got out of Jurassic World, she buried herself under piles of work, not leaving one little place for her PTSD to kick in. Owen on the other hand, was the kind to withdraw and become antisocial. Therefore, he made sure she didn't overwork herself and she made sure he didn't isolate himself.

They mostly stuck together those first few months after. Like a well oiled machine. But one didn't truly understand the other, didn't accept certain things about them. Maybe it's because their relationship was born during a catastrophic event. Maybe it's because they were both too stubborn. Owen could list of lot of different reasons why they split up. But he could also list a hundred more reasons why they worked well together and why they just belonged. Owen wasn't one to throw the word love around lightly. But besides his own family, Claire was the closest person for whom he would say he felt something like this.

He watched her sleep, watched the way her chest was rising up and down, the way her eyelids sometimes fluttered as if she was fighting some bad dream. She seemed so frail, so fragile and yet so strong at the same time. The sunlight pouring from the windows made her hair look like it was on fire and he counted the freckles on her face that she sometimes hid under a mask of foundation.

When he looked around in the room, he noticed a glass of water with the same painkillers Claire had taken the night before, and a note saying that freshly baked food was waiting for them in the kitchens. Owen smiled and extended his arm to grab the note, which was written in delicate but childlike writing, probably Maisie's. But in his movement, he jostled Claire and she groaned before opening her eyes.

"Hey, good morning," he smiled, kissing the top of her head. They were both still sweaty and dirty and bloodied from their whole disaster of an adventure, but he didn't care.

"Good morning." She yawned. He was glad she got some hours of sleep, but he could see on her face that it wasn't enough. But Claire, being Claire, did her best to hide it and looked at the note he was holding. "What are we waiting for?" she asked and playfully poked him in the nose before taking the pills.

An hour later, Owen found a car that seemed mostly intact. With Franklin they gathered some supplies in the trunk, mostly food and some weapons as well. They decided together about their next course of action around some pancakes and freshly baked bread that Maisie had insisted on making since she was up in the first hours of the morning and got bored. They would first drop Zia and Franklin in the nearest big city, which was at some good fifty if not more miles. Franklin's dad lived there and Zia's relatives weren't very far. Claire, Owen and Maisie would drive a lot farther to Claire's apartment and crash there for a while before heading for Owen's bungalow and unfinished house. Owen didn't forget about Claire's injuries and was planning to squeeze a trip to the hospital somewhere into their schedule.

The ride was quiet, everyone lost in their own thoughts but they didn't encounter a single dinosaur on the way. Claire cried a little when she said her goodbyes to her two protégés but promised to keep in touch and keep them posted about the DPG (which Claire had explained to Maisie meant Dinosaur Protection Group).

They were halfway to Claire's apartment when Owen stopped for gas. He left a sleepy Claire and a shy Maisie in the car while he filled the tank and paid. But he made sure to buy some sweets for Maisie (which, thankfully, she seemed to like) and mint gum for Claire (he'd deny later that the smile she gave him made his heart melt a little).

Some music was playing from the radio, a song none of them had the energy or the mood to sing along to. They saw a couple of Pteranodons flying by at some point and a baby Triceratops cross a road, but nothing else. Maisie had finished her candy and was looking through the window. Owen wondered if she was seeing all of this for the first time, he didn't know how she had been raised or if she ever got out of the manor.

He shot a glance at the passenger seat and smiled when he saw Claire deeply asleep, her head tucked against the window, her crutches next to Maisie.

The world was far from being safe and it felt too much as if they just entered a new dangerous era, but Owen couldn't help but smile. Obstacles would come their way, they might even die, for all he knew. But right at that moment, in this car, surrounded by his new family, Owen felt good.