Author's Note: Thank you so much to all of you who read, favorited, followed, and reviewed! You guys rock! :) I did decide to change the new owner's first name. As hilarious as it would be for Saxton Hale to own Jurassic World, I thought it would be a little weird for those who actually know who he is.

Anyways... Enjoy! :)

Chapter Two

It had not been easy watching the new handlers' sad attempt at rounding up Blue and Echo; it was almost cringe-worthy. One of the new guys would run around the back, hoping to distract Blue while another would try coaxing Echo into her stall with a chunk of mystery meat. Needless to say, they were failing. Miserably. It was only when Owen noticed a handler coming forward with a long taser, test-shooting the surrounding air, did he decide to intervene. "Hey! You go anywhere near those animals with that and they'll never trust you!" He yelled, yanking the pole out of the young man's hand.

The other handlers stared blankly at Owen, none of them quite sure on how to proceed.

"Jesus," Owen muttered under his breath as he rolled his eyes. "How the hell are these guys still alive?"

The high pitched screech from below caught his attention; he turned his gaze, immediately making eye contact with the gray and blue raptor below. "Blue," he said firmly, slowly bring a hand up, snapping his fingers to divert her attention . "Eyes on me."

She hissed, baring her teeth as she watched his every move, muscles twitching in anticipation.

"Hey!" He snapped again, the resonance in his voice taking on a deeper quality. In his peripheral vision, Echo had taken on a similar stance; crouched slightly, claws out. "Come on now! Knock it off!" The hissing dimmed out, barely above a whisper. "Okay, good!" He began inching little by little toward the stalls, his eyes never leaving the theirs. "Alright, we're moving."

This had been a common routine in the past; he would get the raptors' attention, and practice basic pack maneuver skills. There was a brief moment where Owen did not think that they would follow; a moment where the idea that maybe there was the slightest of chances that they wouldn't listen popped up in his brain; a nagging voice in his head chastising him for even thinking for a second that this would work. Two years apart could certainly have changed everything.

His doubts were proven wrong; after only a few seconds—even that feeling like an eternity—both raptors began to move with him. Owen's lip twitched upward into a faint smile; his heart thumping wildly. The thrill of seeing and interacting with his girls in this way was exhilarating, and he felt his chest tighten as they looked up to him expectantly.

After finally arriving at an acceptable distance from the boxes, Owen spoke again. "In your places, girls!"

He heard a disgruntled warble in protest come from Blue.

"Let's go!"

Another moment passed of stillness. With one final, almost spiteful glance, Blue led both her and Echo into the stalls.

"Close the gates!" Owen commanded, not dropping the alpha stance just yet. At the sound of the metal bolts and locks clicking into place, Owen's body instantly relaxed into its former state. His heartbeat still thundered in his ears as he let out a sigh. Though the ending had been somewhat happy, there was still that part of him that knew even the slightest mistake could have made the whole thing crumble to little pieces of failure. The hesitation and defiance in Blue's responding actions had been enough to show Owen that there was still work to do.

There was also that melancholy feeling from how incomplete the pack seemed. The jolt of grief that shot through Owen brought back the loss of Charlie and Delta.

Enraged squeals coming from within the stalls cut through the air as he descended the metal stairway. None of the handlers dared to question or stop him when he opened the gate on the lower level and joined the vets in the smaller enclosure.

He watched in silence as the vets poked and prodded Echo, going behind the stall to access her body, taking brief moments to jot down notes onto their tablets. She sat somewhat patiently as one took a blood sample while the other began rubbing a salve over her now healed over burns. It was very peculiar, seeing as the one who had been objecting the whole ordeal the most had not been Echo, but Blue.

Echo, who Owen remembered as being one of the more feisty members of the pack, merely tolerated the treatment, never once fighting it; as if she understood that it was necessary for her survival. Blue on the other hand, snarled, thrashing violently in her place. It pained Owen to witness her going through such a state of unrest. The sad truth was that her behavior was only the result of the strong pack dynamic held between the two. To her, she was only acting on what life had taught her; pack must be protected. That she couldn't act on millions of years of instinct was tragic in and of itself. Her body confined in such a tight space barred her from actually making a difference, and being forced to watch and hear everything the vets were doing did not help either.

The check-up ended shortly after it began. Echo had fully relaxed in her stall, almost as if the metal surrounding her was the only thing holding her up, her eyes fluttering shut. A sense of pity overwhelmed Owen as he began to realize what exactly Claire had meant earlier about morale and psychological health.

He moved to Echo's side, placing a steady hand on her neck, feeling the varying textures of rough scales to smooth skin. The raptor tensed only slightly at the contact, before relaxing against his hand. Earlier in the catwalks, Owen hadn't really taken the time to examine the handiwork of two years of treatment; he had only been able to see the obvious. Now, Owen could only imagine what the complications had been; what she had to go through to still be alive.

"This is what she's like after every treatment," a voice behind Owen informed.

He startled slightly, though not removing his hand from Echo's neck, only briefly looking back to the young woman.

"In case you were wondering," the vet tech added, stepping forward.

In truth, he had wondered. The unmistakable exhausted trill that came from the raptor gave it away. Owen continued running his hand along her neck as he listened.

The vet tech continued. "We've been giving her these treatments every other week for the past two years. I'm sure Ms. Dearing informed you of the state we found her in."

Owen nodded, not only recalling the conversation that had taken place not one hour ago, but the memory of Echo's body being engulfed by flames. "She did."

"You'll be glad to know that she was our top priority. The skin grafts and blood transfusions were done in the first week, but the infections were nearly out of control; we were worried about the infection in her eye socket reaching her brain. Luckily, our head vet is a genius and a miracle worker; he was able to keep her alive and mentally sound."

Echo exhaled shakily, leaning as close to Owen as the metal cage would allow her. It was clear that in spite of all of the treatment and therapy, there was nothing that was able to take away what happened. Owen scratched the corner of the underside of her jaw, resulting in a pleased chuff coming from Echo.

"There are still some minor complications from time to time;" the vet tech began again. "Skin irritations, difficulty moving, and fatigue."

Owen stood, giving Echo a final but gentle pat. He extended his hand to the young woman, grasping it into a firm handshake. "Thank you, ma'am. You and your team have done a great job with her."

Owen moved over to Blue's stall. Immediately, her whole body tensed, a low growl coming from her throat. "Woah, easy," Owen said in a quiet but firm tone. He brought his hand to her face, not deterred by her sudden outrage.

At his touch, she let out a monstrous bark, the metal halter preventing her from opening her mouth to bite. "Hey!" Her alpha snapped, hands now on both sides of her face. "Easy," He soothed, bringing his hand up once more, internally sighing in relief as she allowed his touch. His lips quirked into a smile as he stroked the side of her head. "Good."

Blue's threatened growls gradually morphed into contented warbling. Owen marveled at how dedicated these animals were to each other. They had both experienced so much pain and loss; it was astounding that they had both lasted as long as they did, especially minus two vital members. Delta and Charlie had helped to complete the pack. Charlie, being the youngest, had always looked up to Blue, and never hesitated to turn over parts of her food to the beta.

Delta had been the one that was less fueled by impulse; her actions were almost always based on thought. Barry had claimed that if you stared at her long enough, you could see the gears in her head turning.

Owen remembered all of the times that he had to oversee fights between Blue and Echo to ensure that no one was seriously hurt. The latter was constantly challenging her beta for dominance; something which never really went away. That was why it was surreal to see them now: Blue allowing Echo to lean on her for support, Blue never leaving Echo's side, Blue threatening any living thing that came near her injured pack-mate.

He felt himself smile again, the lump that had been forming in his throat increasing in size as he continued running his hands across Blue's face. "Yeah," he murmured, looking over to Echo briefly before returning his gaze to Blue. "You've done a great job with her, too." His hand stopped, his smile fading slightly. "Thanks."

Part of him was convinced that Blue had understood the sentiment in his words. She stood motionless, emitting a low hum in response.

Unbeknownst to Owen, he was being observed by none other than Mr. Mundy. "Well done, Mr. Grady!"

Owen turned, seeing the new handler Bill standing on the opposite side of the gate.

"I have to say, you've got amazing control of these little beauts."

"Yeah, well," Owen replied, turning away from the raptors. "They treat you with the same respect that you give 'em,"

Bill threw his head back in a hearty laugh. "In all my years handlin' all sorts a' dangerous creatures, I've found one thing: they've got no concept of respect." His laughter faded, his expression turning colder. "You wanna get to an animal, it's gotta fear you. If they fear you, they obey you. Same goes for people."

Was he serious?This was the man that has been in charge of his raptors all this time? This Crocodile-Hunter-Vic-Hoskins hybrid of a man? He could hardly believe it. It was no surprise now why Blue and Echo had not taken to this man at all. Owen pressed his lips together in a thin line, electing to ignore what he had just heard. "They know when you respect 'em," he said flatly, returning his attention to Blue.

He fought to urge to just knock the man out right there, clenching his fists as he heard the man let out another hoot of laughter. "Thank you, Mr. Grady," he managed finally, turning around to climb up into the catwalks above. "It's been a real pleasure chatting." He called out.

As the sound of Mr. Mundy's footsteps faded away, Owen loosened his fist. He lowered himself onto the stool between Echo and Blue's stalls. He knew letting what the man had said get to him was a terrible idea, but if this was the man raising the new raptors in the other enclosure, then something was bound to go wrong. Mr. Mundy was too assertive. The real trick to being an alpha was not about aggression or how many animals you can get to cower in fear at the sight of you. It wasn't even about whether or not you were the Cesar Millan of dinosaurs. As he had said many times before: it was about respect.


Owen returned to his bungalow that evening, the events of the day suddenly taking a toll on his ability to stay awake. Before his arrival, his employers had taken the time to have his old home revamped, just like everywhere else in the park. The new additions were minor, much to his relief. Owen wasn't one for drastic change, and coming back to see his old place in almost identical condition was more than welcomed. They had even gone as far as to supply him with another motorcycle, something which he found himself exceedingly thankful for.

He pushed the door open, his hand searching up and down the inside wall for a light switch. The room instantly lit up, revealing that it really had stayed the same. It was eerie to a degree; for a moment, it felt as if he had never left, as if the incident had never happened. The only difference was just how tidy the home was.

Owen was in no way an overly messy person, but he preferred his living spaces to look lived in. He enjoyed the occasional clutter scattered across a room; a few magazines strewn about a coffee table instead of a neat little stack. It gave the place its own personal touch and made him feel like this was his territory.

This minor flaw was easily fixed.

He picked up the luggage that had been delivered to his door and tossed the duffel bags haphazardly into his room. He turned back to the living room, kicking his boots of before shoving them across the floor.

Much better.

With a satisfied nod, Owen collapsed onto the couch, the previous events of the day running through his mind on repeat. There had been a small part of him that dreaded returning to Isla Nublar. It was the same part that had reprimanded him for taking the job in the first place all those years ago, but the job had proven to be more than worth the hassle.

It was at that moment that he decided to call the only other person who could share his love for the clever girls. Without a second thought, he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed the number of an old friend.

After only a few rings, there was an answer. "Owen?" Barry inquired upon picking up.

"Hey, man," Owen shifted on the couch, propping his feet up to rest on the cluttered coffee table. He had kept in touch with Barry over the course of the recovery period following the incident, and had maintained their friendship throughout. Their phone conversations were few and far between, as one of them would only call when there was something new or significant happening. It was a comfort for Owen to have someone who shared his experiences to talk to at the time, even though they were separated by over two-thousand miles. "I'm here now."

"Ah, how is the dinosaur island?" Barry asked, his voice tinted in humor.

Apparently Barry too had been offered his old job back following the incident. Unlike Owen, Barry's recovery period was a slower process, and as much as Barry loved the animals, no force on Earth could convince him to return. Learning that all of the raptors save for Blue were dead was just the final nail in the coffin. Delta had been Barry's favorite, and she had arguably grown closer to him than to Owen.

"Well, no one's been eaten yet, so I'd say pretty damn good," Owen responded.

"Owen, my friend, as much as I respect and support you… I still can't believe you would go back to a place filled with such corruption and danger."

"Believe me," Owen replied, scratching his head. "I really can't either," He half-lied. Owen knew full well why he agreed to come back.

"You know I loved them, too," Barry countered, seeing right through Owen's denial. "But to go back… Is just crazy. Even for Blue."

Owen pursed his lips, unsure of how to react. "Well—"

"And you and I both know that she wasn't the only reason…"

He felt himself chuckling at Barry's words. While it was true that Blue was a main motivation for coming back, it was no secret that another strong female had some amount of influence on his decision.

Owen paused, debating on just how to word the next part of the conversation. Barry hadn't known of Echo's survival. It was to his understanding that the only one left alive was Blue; that was what Owen thought as well before he returned. "I saw Blue today," Owen announced.

"How did that go?"

Owen bit his lip, mentally forming the sentence before he spoke. "Good. A little shaky at first, but good. Echo's alive." He had said that last part so matter-of-factly that he barely noticed the sharp intake of breath over the other line.

"Merde," Barry cursed in disbelief. "How?"

Owen explained how ACU had found her and Blue together, and how the veterinary team of Jurassic World was able to work their magic. Barry listened with silent intensity, periodically questioning just how Echo had survived being roasted alive. He was both shocked and amazed, and shared Owen's joy hearing that Blue still had a pack. "I am guessing that Delta was not so fortunate?" He asked, his voice only slightly quavering.

"No," Owen simply said, allowing a beat of silence to pass between them. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Barry replied half-heartedly.

It was then that Owen heard the loud barking dog in the background on the other line. Barry cursed again and apologized, before hanging up.

The room immediately filled with silence, save for the loud tick-tock of the clock on the wall. Owen glanced out of the window, seeing the sun outside was beginning to set for the early-evening. He had just started debating on whether or not to return to the raptor enclosure for the night when his phone began chirping loudly. The caller ID showed a stunning redhead, followed by the name 'Claire.'

"Hello, Claire," He said, answering the phone perhaps a little too quickly. He mentally scolded himself for not being patient enough to let it ring a few more times. "What can I do for you?" He asked, relaxing into his natural 'flirt-with-Claire' mode.

He could almost hear the exasperated eye-roll through the phone. "Yes, hello Owen. I was calling to ask if you'd be interested in continuing our meeting tomorrow, during lunch?"

"A lunch date already?" He asked, flirtation ever present in his voice. "That's a little forward, don't you think?"

"Owen—"

"I'd love to," he interjected before she could get a word in.


They had agreed to meet at Winston's Steak house the following day for a late lunch. Owen would have been lying if he denied being wrought with anticipation the entire first half of the day. This would be the first time for both of them sitting together at a table, enjoying a meal since their mutual break-up. It was finally a chance for them to be alone, without interruptions. It would give them a chance to catch up and possibly rekindle where they had left off.

As soon as he was able, he drove his motorcycle like a madman through the park, only stopping upon arriving at the newly renovated restaurant.

He first saw her, sitting at a small table next to a large window across the way. Her eyes were glued to the menu in her hands, only looking up to thank the waiter as he delivered a glass of water. Her eyes fell on Owen as he stood at the entrance, a shy smile tugging at her lips at the sight. She gave a small wave before beckoning him to come over.

Owen could feel his heart-rate picking up. After so many years of knowing this woman, she still had a maddening effect on him; an effect that really brought out his inner don juan. She stood to shake his hand, the touch sending jolts of a nameless emotion through him. He smirked as they both took their seats across from each other. "You have no idea how tempting it was to wear board shorts," Owen said as he unfolded his menu. His eyes glanced up from the card, searching for her reaction.

He could tell she was trying to hide her smile behind the menu. She craned her neck around the table for a moment as if she were checking to be sure he hadn't given into that specific temptation. "Well, those are a start," she said, gesturing to his dark denim jeans.

"You don't suppose there's any actual dino meat on the menu?"

"Owen, don't you think that's a little in bad taste?"

They both shared a quiet laugh before returning to their menus.

Having decided on the Porterhouse, he lowered his menu, taking a moment to admire the woman across from him. There was no questioning it; she was beautiful. He recalled when they had first met, the obscene thoughts that had gone through his head upon setting his eyes on her. It was a strange feeling, the memory being several years ago and seeing just how much has changed. He thought differently of her, that was for sure. Granted, the suggestive thoughts were still present and going strong, but there was a new element. He no longer thought of her exclusively in that way. When they had first met, he found her fiery nature and no-nonsense attitude to be intimidating (and he would be lying if he said that wasn't the case anymore). He had only seen her as another conquest; a challenge. Now, after all they had been through together, what he felt for her had developed into something more.

Claire noticed Owen's stare, and to be honest, she didn't mind. She was hardly able to contain her smile upon seeing him searching aimlessly at the entrance. It had occurred to her that this would be difficult, being reunited, but nothing could have prepared her for the intense wave of old feelings that crashed over her. 'This is not going to be easy,' she thought as her eyes raked over her handsome lunch companion.

"I suppose we should get down to business," Claire said, folding her menu down on the table. The smirk on Owen's face accompanied by his sly wink instantly made her regret her choice of words, but she couldn't quite fight back the smile tugging at her lips.

"Claire, you need to at least buy the dinner first. I ain't that easy."

They both began chuckling at just how absurd the entire situation felt. Here they were, enjoying a late lunch, their dynamic almost exactly as it had been before. It was comfortable for them both. There was a pause before Owen reached across the table to grab Claire's hand, neither of them breaking eye contact. She tensed only slightly at his move, her eyes briefly glancing between his hand and his eyes.

The intensity in his gaze matched with the light circles he was tracing on her hand with his thumb was almost enough to make her revert into a giddy, love-sick schoolgirl. The feeling of his coarse hand enveloping hers brought forth a surge of fond memories. Before she could even prevent the thought, she remembered exactly what those hands were capable of. Unconsciously, she bit her lip.

Owen's near-predatory smirk transformed into a gentler smile. She returned the sentiment, allowing herself this moment. Owen took a deep breath, his eyes leaving hers for a fraction of a second. "Claire—"

"Claire!" A new voice shattered the air around them, bringing them both out of their trance like state. Claire hastily yanked her hand back, practically falling back into her chair.

Owen turned to see a tall, curly headed man nearing their table, clad in a blue Jurassic World polo with khaki shorts. Owen furrowed his brow in confusion, only just now noticing the third menu on the table. Claire hadn't said anything about a third party that he could recall. Who the hell was this guy, then?

He watched as Claire rose from her chair to greet the man in a warm embrace. The familiar pang of 'what-the-hell' shot through Owen seeing the man plant a chaste kiss on her cheek.

The man spoke again as he took his seat between Claire and Owen, in a soft English accent. "My Darling Dearing, who's this?"