A/N: Thanks to all the people who reviewed, I really appreciated the feedback! Here's part 2: let me know what you think, and if I've still managed to keep them somewhat in character and believable. Like I said, this is my first time writing JW so I'm new to this! Any thoughts at all, let me know, I love reviews x
Day 3
The morning came with the ringing of Claire's phone. She groaned as she reached out for it, pulling it from the charger Karen had given her the day before. She accepted the call without checking the caller ID, eyes bleary from sleep still.
"Hello?" She mumbled against Owen's chest and he shifted beneath her, dropping a kiss on her head to let her know he was awake.
"Gray, slow down. Sweetie, what's wrong?" Her voice raised slightly.
Owen sat up alarmed, forcing Claire to sit up with him and he gestured to the phone. She pulled it back from her ear and pressed the button to put it on speaker, Gray's sobs filling their hotel room.
"Gray, it's Owen. Listen to me, you're having a panic attack. I need you to focus on your breathing for me. Breath in on 1 and out on 2. Okay?" Owen's voice was gruff from sleep, and his shouts earlier that morning, but it was firm and soothing.
Claire felt her heart clench painfully as she listened to her youngest nephew's sobs calm slightly, feeling the rumble of Owen's counting from where her body was pressed to him. Eventually, Gray's cries subsided and Claire decided to say something.
"Gray, sweetie, what happened?" She asked it so softly, she was almost sure it wouldn't carry across the line.
"I dreamt of dinosaurs. Of being stuck in the gyrosphere and Zach not being able to get us out. And then I saw you running away from the T-Rex but he didn't attack the Indominous he chose you instead, Aunt Claire."
Owen stiffened beneath her and she had an inkling that it was alarmingly close to his own nightmare.
"It didn't happen Gray. I'm okay. We all made it, we're alive." She attempted to soothe.
"I just wanted to see you, Aunt Claire, but Dad said no. He said he doesn't trust you with me and that it was your fault. He was really mad that we saw you yesterday."
Owen's grip tightened on her in his anger and she reached her hand up to run it soothingly over his bicep, trying to tamp her own anger down.
"What did your mom say?"
He sighed. "She was still asleep. So was Zach. They had a fight with Dad yesterday so they're staying in the room next door."
"Oh." She muttered, feeling stupid as she couldn't find anything helpful to say. "Where are you now?"
"In the bathroom." He admitted.
Claire looked to Owen for help and he stroked a hand through her hair, his brow furrowed as she had noticed it did when he was thinking. "Gray buddy, can you go next door to your mom and Zach's room and wake them up? I kind of want to speak to her."
Gray answered the affirmative and Claire looked at him questioningly as they heard the sounds of door closing, then the murmurs of Karen talking in the background.
"Hello?" Karen's confused voice floated across the line.
"Hey Karen, it's Owen and Claire."
"Yeah, Gray said. What's going on?"
Owen let out a heavy sigh. "Look Gray had a nightmare and rang Claire up crying, wanting to see her. I know it's a point of contention at the moment so I didn't want to make him any promises we couldn't keep. We were just wondering-" He tried to ignore Claire's pointed glare at his inclusion of her, ignoring her exasperated sigh. "Look, I was wondering if you wanted us to take the boys for breakfast, give you and Scott a chance to talk, and us a chance to try and get the boys to open up."
Karen was silent and Claire glared at him while he shrugged helplessly. "Karen, just forget he said anything, I know you don't want to leave the boys with us and we understand. Just make sure you're all okay."
She moved to press the end call button when Karen spoke up. "I don't blame you, Claire. I'm not saying I haven't blamed you." Her breathing hitched at that. "But you did everything you could for them. I know it's not your fault. I'm struggling a bit: I don't know what to say to them. So if you could get them to talk about it, or just talk at all… I guess I'd appreciate it."
"Great." Claire breathed at the same time Owen promised they'd be round in half hour.
"I hate this." Claire admitted after they hung up. He pressed a 'good morning' kiss to her lips, stroking her hair as she rested her forehead on his shoulder. "I barely spoke to my family for years, ever since I moved to the island. Now, I finally want to and I have no idea what to say or if they even want me."
He scoffed at that. "Anyone would be stupid to not want you. You have nothing to worry about."
Forty-five minutes later, Claire, Owen, Zach and Gray filed into a small café. When they went to collect the boys, it had been tense: Karen all fake smiles and enthusiasm, dark circles and red-rimmed eyes, and Scott hovering in the background, disdain on his face as he looked at them.
Owen guided them to the darkest corner of the café, away from all the other customers, aware of the way Claire had flinched at being surrounded by people on the street. They ordered piles of pancakes and bacon and fresh fruit for all of them, the food overcrowding the small table and the boys' faces lighting up at the amount. He ordered a fresh fruit smoothie for Claire, enjoying the way her face lit up when it was placed in front of her.
They ate in easy companionship, all of them piling their plates with far too much food. Owen teased Claire about whether pancakes were on her diet and she rolled her eyes dramatically while Zach and Gray laughed along. Just when they finally admitted defeat on their food, Claire and Owen looked at each other cautiously, aware of the conversation they wanted to have.
"So, how are you doing?" Claire asked quietly as her nephews suddenly found their plates very interesting, choosing to remain silence. "You can talk to us." She tried again, looking at Owen for help.
He slung an arm over her shoulders, pulling her to his side and resting his head on top of hers. "I had nightmares." He supplied, causing them to look up at him curiously. "Not the first night, I was too tired then. But last night I had them constantly. Had them after the Navy too." Claire tipped her head to look at him at that, entwining her fingers through his.
"What were the nightmares about?" Zach questioned.
"Last night?" Zach nodded. "Your Aunt Claire mostly. Just all the ways I could have lost her: in the old visitor centre, the raptor chase, the T-rex…" She whimpered slightly, involuntarily, and Owen brushed a stray tear away.
"I dreamt about the T-rex and Aunt Claire too." Gray piped up. "And the gyrosphere…"
"Yeah, those damn hamster balls." Zach agreed, stabbing a bit of pancake angrily. "Did it getter better before? After the Navy?"
"Yeah, yeah it did. Not gone forever, but bearable. And rare."
"How?" Zach and Gray both questioned together.
"I ran a lot. Exercise helped. It didn't help enough though. I spoke to someone, a therapist, before I moved to the island. Saw them for months. That helped a lot." His voice was low and pained.
"Mum mentioned about us seeing a therapist when we go back home. I'm not sure how they could help." Zach admitted. "They weren't there, couldn't understand what it was like." Gray nodded along with him.
"You could see someone together, you know?" Claire suggested. "Then you'd have someone there who understood and someone to talk to, someone objective."
They agreed and nodded their consent to that. Owen stood up and paid with the company credit card Claire handed him and when he returned, they all stood up to leave. His hand was resting on the small of Claire's back, ready to guide her out, when Gray piped up.
"What were your dreams about, Aunt Claire?"
Her whole body tensed under Owen's hand. "Haven't had any." She mumbled. "Not yet."
They were lying in bed later that day, stuffing themselves with takeaway pizza, Claire having accepted that her diet had long gone down the drain. She supposed the constant anxiety she felt should be burning enough calories and, if not, getting fat seems pretty low down on things to be worried about (man eating dinosaurs being one of them). The TV was on, both of them pretending to watch the re-runs of Grey's Anatomy, trying to focus on the English subtitles and ignoring the fact that it was dubbed over in Spanish.
"It makes you think." Owen had mused when they were halfway through an episode about a train crash. "We actually got off pretty lightly. At least we're not impaled together on a metal pole."
"Yeah." She had mumbled around her mouthful of pizza. "I feel pretty damn lucky." They both snickered at that, painfully aware that if something had gone wrong it wouldn't be a pole they'd be impaled on, but a large dinosaur's tooth.
They shoved the pizza boxes on the floor when they were done, and the part of Claire who used to bring an itinerary to a date cringed at the mess. Instead she just crawled up to curl into Owen's side, eyes on the TV still as she shared a sip of one of the beers he had bought from the hotel shop. He brushed his finger through her hair soothingly and she mumbled half heartedly about the pizza grease she was sure was on his fingers, but leaned into his touch anyway.
"I feel guilty." She whispered, after watching Meredith Grey pine after 'McDreamy' for a few minutes.
He pressed his face into her hair, breathing in deeply. "We've been over this, Dearing. It's not on you."
She shook her head slightly. "I feel guilty that I've been having a good night's sleep. That I don't have any nightmares. I shouldn't be allowed to sleep, not when so many people died on my watch."
He pondered that for a while, watching the TV as he stroked soothing circles on her back. "I don't think that. I know I can tell you it's not your fault until I'm blue in the face, and believe me I will, and you still won't believe me. I know how much you torture yourself thinking about it when you're awake and I know firsthand how horrible nightmares can be." He paused, shifting so he could look her in the eye, trailing a finger softly down her cheek, his voice choked with tears. "As someone who cares so fucking much about you, you have no idea how glad I am that you don't have to replay these horrors at night. That you get a few hours of peace."
She blinked up at him, eyes wide and filled with unshed tears. "Owen." She whimpered, and then her fists were grasping his shirt, her lips pressing feverishly on his. She arched her back and pressed herself against him, biting down on his lip as she moaned and grinded against him. He threaded in her hair, tugging it slightly as he breathed harshly.
She pulled back slightly and bit her lip. "Owen, I want you." She breathed.
He ghosted his hands down her sides, before tightly griping her waist and flipping them, so he pinned her to the bed. He pressed his lips softly against hers, pulling back and studying her face for any signs of hesitation. "You sure?" He grunted.
"Absolutely." She replied.
Day 4
Claire was once again awoken by the sounds of Owen's shouts, this time not hesitating to roll straight on top of him, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him abruptly. "Owen, honey, it's Claire wake up."
He groaned in response, thrashing slightly, and she shook him harder. "It's just a dream, honey, wake up!"
He snapped awake suddenly, bolting upright and forcing her to fall off him onto the floor with a bump. He looked around frantically before he spotted her on the floor and he looked at her in confusion. She huffed slightly, moving her hands to attempt to cover herself as she stood up tentatively.
"If you wanted me out of your bed you only had to ask." She teased lightly.
"Jesus Claire." He scrubbed his hand over his face before reaching his hand out, holding onto her waist and eyeing her up and down. "I did this?" She nodded slightly. "Are you hurt? Did I hurt you at all?"
She shook her head adamantly, sliding back under the covers next to him. "No Owen, I'm fine, no harm down."
"I'm so sorry, darling." He pressed his lips over every inch of skin that he could reach, holding her tight in his arms while tears fell onto his cheeks. "I'm so sorry."
She stopped him with a palm on his cheek. "Honey, I am okay. You didn't hurt me, it was an accident."
He bit down on his lip, his eyes still frantically moving over her. "I could have. I have done, in the past."
She frowned, curling closer into him to feel his body reassuringly against hers. "What are you talking about Owen?"
"When I came back from my last tour and the dreams where really bad, I had this girlfriend. She tried to wake me up from a nightmare once and I lashed out. She had a black eye for weeks after." He admitted quietly before pressing his forehead against hers, a sob escaping him. "God, I should've thought about it before now. It would kill me if I hurt you Claire. I'll get my own room tonight, I'm sorry."
"No." The word ripped from her throat, needy and hoarse, and she tried to steady her breathing. "No, you won't. You promised you wouldn't leave me. We're meant to be sticking together. For survival."
"I don't want to hurt you, Dearing. I won't survive if I do."
She shook her head. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. You're not going to hurt me and you're not going anywhere."
"But, I-"
"But nothing." She stuck her jaw up suddenly. "You didn't do anything wrong, you just sat up. I'm fine. We will be fine." He opened his mouth to protest again and she jumped in, her voice getting hysterical. "This is not up for discussion, okay?!"
He pulled her down, running his hand over and over through her hair, soothing her gently. "Okay. Okay Claire. I'll stay, I'm not going to leave you ever, okay?"
She relaxed slightly against him, and nodded into his chest. They lay like that for a while in silence, both of them clinging to each other like they were drowning, and in many ways they felt like they were. Eventually she spoke up again. "Want to talk about it? Your dream?"
"Not yet." His voice rumbled beneath her. "It's like 5am. Lets just…" He waved his hand in the air uselessly.
"Yeah. Lets just." She agreed, closing her eyes and taking comfort in his warm body against hers.
Claire woke up again a few hours later to Owen chatting to someone at the door and she anxiously pulled the covers tightly around her. "Owen?" She mumbled out, and he turned to her with a soft smile, before saying goodbye to the woman and closing the door behind him.
He walked over to the bed and set a tray down next to her. He greeted her with a soft kiss, running a hand through her tousled hair. "Morning, Sleeping Beauty."
She rolled her eyes automatically at him. "Morning." She hummed. "Did you sleep anymore?"
He shook his head before waving at the tray. "Got you breakfast though. An omelette. And tea."
She thanked him quietly, shifting over on the bed to make room for him and pulling the plate onto her lap. She rested her head on his shoulder as she ate. "You're not going are you?"
"No." He muttered. "I promised I wouldn't."
"People don't always do everything they promise." She pointed out, a sad smile slipping onto her face.
He pressed his lips to her forehead, before stealing a bite of the omelette. "Where's this coming from, Dearing?" She shook her head slightly. "Have I ever broke any promises to you?"
"You promised me a good date." She said drily.
He held a hand to his heart and faked a wounded impression. "I'm going to call that a rain check. When all this is over I'm going to take you on the best date of your life."
She scoffed at him. "This is never going to be over, Owen."
He reached over in silence, grabbing a cup of tea off the tray. He sipped it quietly, staring at its contents while she finished her omelette in silence. When they were finished he took all of the empty plates and set them on the floor, before dragging Claire onto his lap.
"I think it will be. Eventually." He whispered.
She shook her head. "It will never be like before. I will never be like before."
"Is that a bad thing?" He murmured into hair and she tried to pull away from him angrily.
He tightened his grip and held her against him. "Is that what you think?" She spat. "Why are you even with me if you think that?"
"Jesus, Dearing, you know what I mean." He sighed. "You're talking to your family again, this is probably your first week off in years."
"Yeah." She conceded. "I knew what you meant. I just… if I didn't change, if I was the same, would you still stay with me?"
"This still the broken promises thing?" She shrugged slightly. "I'm not going anywhere. And I'll always want you. Promise."
'Don't make promises that big that soon, Grady. You don't know if you'll be able to keep them."
He linked his fingers through her hair, tugging it hard so her head tilted up to his, pausing with his lips just over hers. "I can and I will. Surviving a dinosaur attack puts things into perspective for you." He pressed his lips against hers, running his tongue over her lips gently, letting out a groan as she bit down hard on his lower lip.
"I guess I can handle that." She whispered when he pulled away. "I feel underdressed compared to you." She waved at the sweatpants he had on.
"I can get you a robe?" He offered.
"No." She gave him a small smile and tugged on his waistband. "I have a better idea."
"Marcela said the restaurant next door does the best surf and turf in Costa Rica." Owen mentioned later as they were once again watching Grey's Anatomy re-runs, his fingers drawing circles over her side.
She frowned, not looking at him. "Who's Marcela?"
"The room service lady. Why, you jealous?" He nudged her, playfully.
She rolled her eyes. "In your dreams, Grady. So, surf and turf? Is this your idea of date number 2?"
"No, it's my idea of dinner." He replied teasingly.
She got out of the bed and started routing through their mismatched bag of clothes, pulling on some jersey shorts and a tank top. She tried to comb her hair with her hands without success. "I don't really look presentable for dinner."
He smiled at her, catching the shirt and shorts she threw at him. "You look perfect. Absolutely gorgeous."
"Suck up." She muttered, blushing the same colour as her hair.
He got up and dressed quickly, stepping into the ensuite next to Claire to brush his teeth, nudging her out of the way of the sink. She huffed lightly and moved to retrieve the cheap gift shop flip-flops, wincing at the way they rubbed the blisters that still adorned her feet. "You ready?" She questioned as Owen stepped out, wiping his face on a towel.
He nodded, slipping on his own flip-flops and following her out the door, his hand resting on the small of her back. "You heard from Karen today?" He questioned as they stepped into the elevator.
She shook her head slightly. "Giving her time to accept it. Forgive me."
"She told you she doesn't blame you, Claire." He pointed out.
"She needs space." She argued back, but without her usual bite. "I know Karen: she doesn't want to blame me but she does."
He didn't respond to that, just dropping a kiss on the top of her head. They stepped into the lobby, ducking their heads down as they walked through the small crowd and heading out the door. The late afternoon heat felt stifling compared to the air conditioned room they'd almost become used to, and Claire swore she could feel her hair start to frizz more.
Owen watched her as her eyes darted nervously at the surrounding people, shaking slightly as she brought her hand up to straighten her top automatically. He moved his hand to her shoulder, pretending not to notice the way she flinched, and guided her towards the neighbouring restaurant. They were almost to the door when a motorbike rushed past, revving loudly as it passed them. Claire let out a small scream, her breathing erratic as she flung herself behind him.
"Dearing. Come on, eyes on me." He spoke evenly, trying to push down his own fear bubbling up in him irrationally. He turned and gripped her biceps, holding her in place. Her eyes were glazed over, flicking all around, her hands in tight fists, and he could see her nails digging into her skin.
He pulled her to him, and she sagged against him. A light sob passed her lips as he brushed his hand over her hair. "Come on darling. You're safe, we're safe. It's over, all over."
She uncurled her hands, moving her tight grip to his shirt. "It's not." She whispered.
"Aunt Claire! Owen!" His eyes snapped up as he saw Gray heading across the street towards them, Zach and Scott trailing behind.
He wrapped his arms fully around Claire in an effort to calm her tremors and plastered a false smile on his face. "Hey Gray."
Scott frowned at them as he reached them, his expression clear that he'd rather not be talking to them. "Is she okay?"
He contemplated lying, knowing how furious Claire would be at anyone seeing her like that. His anger at Scott's false concern however won out. "No she fucking isn't." He snapped.
"You're not supposed to say that word." Gray whispered and Owen mumbled an apology.
Claire's breathing was so heavy it had reached an audible level, even when her face was muffled against his chest. He stroked soothing circles on her back, pressing kisses to her hair. "Alright Dearing, just listen to my voice okay? Breathe in on 1, out on 2. Can you do that for me?" Her head shifted slightly, a nod. "1. 2. 1. 2."
"Owen, can we do anything?" Zach offered.
He reached into Claire's shorts pockets and pulled out the company credit card as her breathing evened slightly. "Do you think you guys could grab us 2 surf and turfs and bring them to our room? I'm just going to take her back. If its not too much trouble."
Scott opened his mouth, presumably to protest, but Zach jumped in. "Sure, man. No problem."
He let out a sigh of relief and thanked them, bending down slightly to pick Claire up, her face pressed against his neck.
Claire hadn't spoken since her panic attack, not even when Zach had knocked on the door with the bag of food. Owen just thanked him again and promised to call the next day, before handing her a plate, which she picked slowly through silently until it was all gone.
Owen felt out of his depth, unsure how to deal with this version of Claire, deciding to keep silent. Once they had both finished, he cleared away the rubbish and thought back to a few conversations he'd had with one of his old Navy buddies who had suffered with panic attacks. He climbed on the bed next to Claire, pulling her right against him, despite her small grunt of protest.
He took the covers and pulled them over the both of them, tucking them above their heads. He could barely make out her outline in the dark, and there didn't seem like there should be enough air for them both in the cocoon he had created. "It's just you and me now, Dearing." He whispered. "We're safe in here."
"I'm a mess." Her voice cracked. "I wouldn't blame you if you left. I freaked out at a motorbike, for God's sake. What must the boys think?"
"Not leaving." He mumbled into her hair. "I don't care if we never go out again, I'm sticking with you."
"I felt like I was back there Owen. I could see it all, hear the sounds, smell it in the air. It was so real."
"I know, darling." He kissed her forehead softly.
"Am I going crazy? Am I broken?" His heart broke as he looked at her: his eyes having adjusted to the dark enough to see her fear-filled expression.
"No Dearing. You're still you, you're still perfect." She snorted slightly at that. "You'll get over it eventually. The fear. It won't be this way forever." He promised gently, hoping it was true.
She nodded at that. "You're not leaving?"
"Nope. If anyone is the mess here it's me. I'm the one who wakes up screaming every night. I need you."
"We need each other." She corrected and he smiled softly at that.
"Wanna get out from under here now?"
She shook her head, moving closer to him and gripping his shirt gently. "Let's stay here for a bit."
He gave her an easy cocky smile. "Wanna make out for a bit?"
Claire laughed lightly at that, the sound causing a flutter in his chest. "You're unbelievable, Mr Grady."