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I hate Writer's Block. I really, really hate it. It's not often a problem for me, thankfully, but right now it is. It's terrible. I feel like moping, but that's counterproductive, so I'm writing what I can find the words for instead.

Of Astronomers and Astronauts: Outtakes

Scene Two: The Song of Grief

"Amanda Kirby?"

At first, she hadn't noticed anything was wrong.

It was normal to be a little late. Hadn't she been late returning from her hair appointment? They probably had gotten held up at the docks, or had been stuck in traffic on the way back to the hotel. They were fine. There was no way they couldn't be fine. It was Ben and Eric.

"The Coast Guard has returned from patrolling the path the boat was alleged to have taken…"

But then it became later and later, and Amanda found herself sitting in the back of a cab, telling herself she was being ridiculous.

"...and I regret to inform you…"

'No.'

She had arrived at the docks to chaos. When she finally managed to find someone that spoke English, she learnt that the boat hadn't returned at all, and no one knew why. They had tried hailing the boat through its radio, but to no avail. Nobody had answered.

Amanda had almost collapsed when she heard that.

"...that the vessel was discovered off of the coast of Isla Sorna…"

'What about my son?'

Instead of fainting, she had rushed to the nearest police station. She had babbled and shouted uselessly for several minutes, trying to get them to understand that her son was missing, before she managed to calm down enough to be comprehensible. The authorities sent out a ship automatically.

"...completely destroyed."

'Oh please God no.'

They had come back a few hours later, their faces drawn and their hats in their hands.

"Based on the evidence found on the scene…"

'Oh please you don't understand…'

Amanda had wasted several hours screaming that someone better send a rescue team to Sorna now before realizing it was a waste of time and marching off to find the American Embassy.

"...and the location of the crash…"

'...Eric's twelve.'

They told her the exact same thing as the Costa Ricans.

"...we have no choice but to declare…"

'He's my son.'

Amanda had spent hours begging, pleading for help while officials just looked on with pity. Eventually, they managed to corral her back to her hotel, where she stood numbly in the door of her room, completely detached from the world.

Until she saw Eric's smiling face beaming up at her from a stack of pictures she had developed earlier that day.

And Amanda Kirby screamed.

"...Mr. Ben Hildebrand…"

'You have to - have to help them.'

She doubled over, screaming and crying and making incomprehensible promises to God if He would just save Ben and Eric. There was this thing in her chest, formed of teeth and claws and tearing her heart until it was nothing but bloody shreds. Helplessly, she fell to the ground, her forehead pressed to the carpet and her sobs echoing through the too empty oh God why is it so empty room and her arms wrapped around her middle as if it were the only way to keep herself from falling apart.

"...and your son, Eric Kirby…"

'You have to save them.'

Then, she stopped crying.

Her son wasn't dead.

He couldn't be dead. She would know if he was dead. She would feel it. His heart was still beating, his lungs were still breathing.

If he died, so did she.

Eric was everything. Her entire world had dwindled down to that one tiny person the first moment she had held him in her arms, and her world would end the moment he did.

She had to save him. Had to save both of them. She just couldn't do it alone.

So she crawled across the floor, not even possessing the strength to stand, towards the phone sitting innocently on the table. She grabbed the device and punched in a number that had once been hers before pressing the receiver to her ear and praying there would be an answer.

"...dead."

'You're wrong.'

"Paul?"