Chapter 9
The following morning, Claire received a call from Zia saying that the OSI agents had contacted the DPG about their offer and she wasn't sure how to respond, besides attempting to delay them. Claire still wasn't ready to head back into the office and leave Maisie, and so she suggested that Zia and Franklin come over to the house so they could discuss it. She decided not to mention on the phone that Owen had also received an offer the previous day, figuring it would be something the four could all discuss in person.
The two arrived just after lunch. Claire could hear them well before they made it to the door, a combination of the increased volume from the reporters and Zia's voice cutting through it all with her not-so-friendly language telling them to back the hell away. She waited until she heard them on the porch before pulling the door open and letting them slide into the house. She quickly shut the door behind them.
Owen and Maisie were currently sitting on the couch in the middle of a retro video game war, racing their Mario Karts along the treacherous rainbow road. Maisie continued to out play Owen on the more recent games, so he'd occasionally pull out their classic SNES, a system he still managed to maintain his reign over.
After offering them drinks (they both declined), Claire ushered them towards the living room. Franklin immediately honing in on the game, joined Maisie and Owen, adding his own commentary; questioning why Owen wasn't attempting the secret jump move so he could lap Maisie.
Zia and Claire hung back by the front door for a moment, Zia giving her friend a searching gaze. "Are you doing okay?" Zia asked. "I know it's been a tough few weeks."
"I'm fine," Claire replied, tight lipped and refusing to meet her friends eyes.
Zia sighed, as she reached out and gently squeezed Claire's hand. "Claire, you don't have to tell me anything. You know that. But, if you want to–" Claire started to protest, but Zia shushed her. "If you want to, know that I'm here, and I won't judge. With everything that's been happening, you're allowed to not be okay, you know. You don't always have to be fine."
Claire bit her lip, looking into the living room for a moment, at the smiles and laughter of the three watching and playing games, before returning her gaze to Zia. She let out a deep sigh, shoulders falling, "You're right, things aren't great. But, I don't want to talk about it right now. I don't have energy to talk about it right now. One crisis at a time." She gave Zia a wan smile. "I really can't deal with thinking about everything right now, but I do know I can talk to you. Thanks."
Zia nodded, still concerned, but letting Claire take the lead. She knew it wouldn't help if she pressed; in fact, it'd likely make everything worse. Clapping her hands together, she entered the living room with a cheerful, "Hey Maisie. Hey Owen."
She was barely acknowledged, as Owen raced his kart through the finish line, a fraction of a second before Maisie's red shell could take him out, his kart spinning out but his 1st place finish already assured. He dropped the controller, raising his hands above his head in triumph.
Claire just rolled her eyes, and entered the room too, moving towards the tv. "Okay, enough games for now," she flicked the tv off, to the sound of three large groans. "Seriously, all the two of you have done for the last day and a half is sit on that couch and watch movies or play games."
"What else can I do," Maisie pouted. "I can't go outside, so I can't ride my bike." Her smile brightened momentarily. "Unless you'll let me ride it inside?" Claire didn't even bother to dignify that with a response, just raising a single eyebrow. Owen snickered beside Maisie, who sighed. "Fine. What can I do then?"
"Read a book?" Claire suggested. "Or how about tackling your homework? Remember, I'm on those emails too. I know you've got stuff to work on."
Maisie groaned. "Really? With everything going on I have to do homework?" She turned towards Owen, pleadingly, who in turn looked to Claire.
"That doesn't work on me guys," Claire ignored the puppy dog eyes now coming at her from both. "Come on Maisie, upstairs. You can probably get it all done by the time we finish our meeting. Maybe we can convince them to stay for dinner and order pizza." She added the final offer as bait, but she was planning it all along. It had been too long just the three of them stuck in the house, they could use some company. Maisie groaned again, but headed up the stairs after another look towards Owen had him also shooing her out of the room.
"I don't know why I can't listen," Maisie grumbled on her way out. "It affects me too."
As she left, the four adults all found seats around the room, Owen and Franklin on the couch, and Claire and Zia in the stuffed side chairs. Claire started the conversation by telling Zia and Franklin about Owen's visit from the OSI agents the previous day.
"They want you to go and do what exactly?" Zia tried to clarify. "Are they hoping you're, like, a 'dinosaur whisperer' or something?"
"Or something," Owen agreed with a nod.
"You're not going, right?" Franklin asked. "Like, that sounds like it would be stupid to say yes to."
"I'm not–" Owen groaned but managed to avoid sending a glare towards Claire like he wanted to. "I haven't decided." He paused, this time looking towards Claire, who was adamantly refusing to look at him. "I mean, we haven't decided yet." He sighed deeply. "I don't know what to say. That's the whole point of you guys coming over. There's obviously something bigger at play here."
"Now that I completely agree with," Zia nodded. "I don't agree with you going, I'm with Franklin on that being stupid. But they're definitely not telling us everything."
"I agree," Claire joined in. "They didn't mention that the dinosaur was a hybrid when they were here, and there is no way they still don't know that. You guys figured it out within minutes of that clip being released."
"The theory has started circulating on social media now too," Franklin waved his phone. "There's a few people who did exactly what we did. But most of the people re-tweeting it are more along the lines of 'hey did you hear this?' or 'do you think this is true?' So while it's been widely talked about, it hasn't quite moved into the 'accepted as fact' category yet."
"Doesn't help that the president somehow still goes around talking about how dinosaurs never existed," Zia mumbled.
"Ignoring that," Claire rolled her eyes at Zia, "I think we should consider trying to come to a joint agreement between what Owen wants to do and what the DPG wants. They approached us separately, and there's no way they didn't know that Owen and I are married. They were trying to work around us, so I think we need to come back united." There was just the slightest pause after the word married, but she was betting (and hoping) that no one except maybe Owen noticed.
"So it's really two things they want," Zia summarized. "They want Owen to work with them on the capturing and so-called rescuing of the dinosaurs, and they want the DPG to be willing to accommodate these dinosaurs at the sanctuary."
"Why 'so-called'?" Franklin questioned. "I mean, they apparently have rescued one so far."
"They've recaptured one," Zia agreed. "I don't know that we can say they've rescued it. We don't know what they want to do yet."
"Of course," Owen groaned, hand hitting his forehead in exasperation. "I can't believe we were so stupid and didn't see it before!"
"See what?" Franklin asked.
"These dinosaurs got sold for one main reason," Owen reminded everyone. "To be militarized. I mean, this goes back years. Back at Jurassic World, this is what Hoskin's and InGen wanted longterm out of the raptor project. There's no way the government is going to be happy being the one country that is not currently working on this."
"By why involve the DPG?" Zia didn't sound convinced. "We've never given any indication that we would support anything like that."
"Because we're the perfect cover," Claire sighed, connecting the final dots. "If they can say they're working with the DPG to relocate the dinosaurs to the sanctuary, no one is going to suspect anything."
"But the sanctuary is restricted," Franklin reminded them. "Once the dinosaurs are there, they're safe."
"But, the restriction was put in place by the government," Claire pointed out. "I'm not saying we were against that designation. I supported it and I still think it's a good idea. But the restriction also means that there are fewer eyes that would be watching what happens once the dinosaurs arrived."
"And the cameras?" Zia asked. "How are they going to get around those? We put them all over."
"Not all over," Franklin disagreed. This was an area he knew well, as over the years and growth of the non-profit, he'd become in charge of the online streaming implementation. He'd lead the team planning camera locations and choosing what cameras to showcase on their website. He would also capture stills and small video clips to highlight on their social media. "We've covered a lot of the island, but it's a huge place. We couldn't cover it all. Also, cameras go down continually, whether it's from interactions with the dinosaurs or weather or just equipment failure. But, besides that, there are buildings and other secure areas on the island that don't have camera coverage. You've used them yourself, Zia, for when the dinosaurs are sick and need extended treatment. Can't always have them out in the main open areas."
Claire gave Franklin a proud look, happy to see how much growth and confidence he'd developed over the years. "Franklin's right," she nodded. "As much as we promote transparency across the island, it would be relatively easy for the government to set something up and us to not know what's going on. The DPG isn't big enough to keep permanent staff on the island – all the people full time are from the military. That's part of our agreement."
"Okay, assuming we're right," Zia started.
"Oh, we're definitely right," Owen replied, relaxing into the couch cushions. Much of the earlier tension he was feeling had fled, under the realization of the plan. "But, knowing their end goal isn't enough, we still need to know how to respond."
"There's really only two options – well, maybe three – that I see, neither of which is ideal," Claire didn't look happy either. "One, we just tell the OSI 'no.' I don't think it'll solve anything, and I think they'll just keep coming back. Two, we give a press conference and say that while the DPG has been approached about helping the military with the re-captured dinosaurs, that it is our belief that adding hybrids to the sanctuary is not in the best interest of the dinosaurs already there. It does mean confirming that at least one of these is a hybrid and, remember, the government hasn't even confirmed that they're attempting to recapture yet." The other three all looked as unhappy with the ideas as Claire was.
"You said maybe three, what's the other option?" Owen asked when Claire didn't immediately offer it.
"The other," Claire took a deep breath, "the other, is that we go full-court press on the issue, and we lay out exactly what we think the government is going to do."
Everyone was silent at that. Finally, Franklin spoke up. "That doesn't seem like a safe plan. Do we really want the government angry with us?"
"I love it," Zia disagreed. "It puts them on the defensive. They either have to admit what they're doing and convince everyone it's a good idea or they have to deny it and there will be more eyes than just the DPG watching to make sure they don't." She paused and looked at Claire, before wincing and adding: "But, if we do that, I think you have to be the one to say it. It's got to come from the top. And it's got to come from someone the press, and everyone else, trusts. The DPG is highly tied to you."
Owen sat up, leaning forward, before he said carefully. "I like the idea too. But I don't like the idea of Claire giving a press conference. Don't we have enough targets on us already?" He looked towards the front windows, still carefully covered by curtains. If they were all quiet, they could hear the noise from the reporters outside.
"I agree with Zia. If we do it, it'll have to come from me. It won't come across with the same authority, won't be given the same weight if it's anyone else," Claire stated.
"You'll have to take questions," Zia added. "I think we can have you give a statement, but you'll have to take questions."
"And that's what I don't like," Owen shook his head angrily, getting up and starting to pace around the room. "They aren't going to stay on topic. They're going to ask about Maisie." He paused, pointing a finger at Claire. "You know they'll ask about her."
Claire nodded. "I know. If I thought either of the other options would work…" she trailed off, giving a weak shrug. "I've dealt with the press for years. I can deflect them. Besides, I think they're going to be pretty shocked by what we have to say."
x x x
A scream piercing the air caused Owen to bolt upright in bed. He wasn't sure at first what woke him, but his actions caused Claire to wake beside him with a sleepy "what?" The second scream had both of them tumbling out of the bed. Owen beat Claire to the door, but she was only a half step behind him as they both burst into the hallway.
"Let me go!" Maisie cried out, this time accompanied by a scream of pain, as the two of them barrel down the hallway and into her room.
It was dark, but Owen could just make out Maisie on her bed, two grown adults trying to drag her off of it. He barely managed to get out a yell of "Hey!" before he'd thrown himself into the mix. He was blinded a second later, as Claire flipped on the lights. It didn't matter, his mind was set on one thing, and that was getting between Maisie and these men (or, at least, who he assumed were men).
He could dimly hear Claire yelling, and a part of his mind was sure that all the sound from the room plus the lights turning on had to be getting the attention of the media outside. But, for the first time, he wasn't upset about that. He was pulling no punches, as he fought back against the two guys, who had, thankfully, at least dropped their grip on Maisie.
"Get Maisie," Owen managed to growl, barely dodging the fist aimed at his face, but he ended up moving himself into position for the second assailant to knee him in the groin, and he dropped onto the bed with an "oomph." He tried to ignore the pain, wildly swinging his arms until he connected, grabbing and pulling the one guy closer, trying to get leverage to use his fists.
"C'mon Maisie," he heard Claire shuffling Maisie towards the door, and he was glad there was one less thing to worry about. "I'm calling 911!" Claire shouted at the guys, but at first it appeared that they didn't seem to hear or care.
They continued to fight against him, and it took Owen a moment to notice that what they were doing had changed. They were no longer trying to take him down, exactly, more they were working to free the one guy from his grip. They managed to get a lucky punch and he knew, instantly, that he was going to be sporting a black eye. His hands immediately went to protect his face. A moment later, they had completely let go, and when he moved his hands, he saw them bolting for Maisie's window. In the distance he could hear sirens.
By the time he got to his feet, one was already out the window, but he managed to grab the second in a choke hold, taking him down. As the guy outside reached the ground, there was a sudden commotion. Apparently, the noise had definitely woken the reporters, and they were no longer afraid to venture onto the property. The one who made it out the window had dropped down from the tree to land directly in front of a news camera. At the sound of his surprise, followed almost immediately by his surrender, the one in the bedroom also went limp, knowing it was useless to keep fighting.
Owen continued to sit on the guy's back, pulling his arms behind him, until police entered the room only a few minutes later and took over for him. The moment he was free to move again, he was out the door and down the stairs, calling out. "Claire? Maisie? Kiddo?" Claire's voice beckoned him into the kitchen, and he stumbled through the door frame, skidding to a stop at their side. Claire was sitting at the kitchen table, Maisie on her lap, with a couple of police officers on the other side. At the sight of Owen, both Claire and Maisie leapt up. He grabbed Maisie in a tight hug first, before he managed to loosen one arm and pull Claire into it too. The police calmly waited the three out.
A minute later, Claire pulled back so she could look at him properly. "Are you okay?" He nodded, but she started giving him a critical look up and down, her gaze doubling back to his face. "Your eye!"
He winced, and then winced again from the pain of wincing, before admitting, "yeah, they got in a couple of lucky shots."
"That's definitely going to bruise," Claire said, reaching out and touching the swelling skin around his left eye carefully. Their gazes locked momentarily, her palm cupping his cheek, thumb sweeping the skin just below his eye. She could feel him ever so slightly letting his head rest in her hand. A whimper from Maisie startled them and Owen's head shifted away. A soft sigh escaped Claire, as she pulled her hand away, stepping back. She hadn't expected that moment but it felt over too soon. "Let me grab you some ice."
After she pulled away, Owen wrapped himself more fully around Maisie again, who he can feel shaking in his arms. "Kiddo," he murmured into her hair, "are you okay?" Maisie just tightened her arms around him in response.
"Here," Claire pulled out a chair, and gestured for Owen to sit, which he did, Maisie still attached to him. She pulled another chair over as close as she could, before settling beside them, one hand briefly resting on Maisie's back. Once they were seated, she raised the ice pack, and carefully rested it against his face. Owen let out a soft hiss, the cold both soothing and too cold at the same time. Holding the ice pack in place, Claire turned back to the police, who had been quietly discussing with another officer who had entered the room. "Do you know who they are?"
"They weren't carrying ID, which isn't that unusual," the first officer replied. "However, we did get a hit off their fingerprints. They each have a bit of a record, although nothing like kidnapping before."
"What's more interesting," the second officer added, "is they're both adamantly denying that they were here to kidnap Maisie."
"What were they doing in her room then?" Owen growled. "They definitely weren't invited over."
"We found them with a kit for drawing blood. Do you know why they might have that?" the first officer questioned.
"Drawing blood?" Claire looked confused, but only for a second. "Wu." She stated the name matter-of-factly, and could feel Owen tensing beside her.
"Who?"
"Dr. Henry Wu," Claire clarified.
"He doesn't deserve that title," Owen shook his head. "Not after everything he's done."
"The guy who made the dinosaurs," the second officer made the connection. "He was on tv the other day, wasn't he?"
"Yes," Claire confirmed. "And he stated perfectly clearly that he wanted access to Maisie. I told him no."
"What? You did what? When did that happen?" Owen's head snapped toward her, the movement dislodging the ice pack, which she pulled away and placed on the table. "You never said anything."
"He called yesterday," Claire dismissed. "I told him that no way in hell was he getting access to Maisie."
"Why didn't you–" Owen started, before cutting himself off. "I want to kill that guy."
"Probably not what you want to be saying in front of the police," Claire rolled her eyes at him.
"He doesn't get to threaten my family and get away with it," Owen hissed. He was radiating pent up anger, but he still had Maisie curled on his lap and she was still shaking, so he couldn't get up or take any action to let it out. Instead, he looked down at Maisie and tightened his hold around her. "He's not getting anywhere near you," he promised.
x x x
By the time the police leave, the sun had risen. They were all exhausted, having barely had any sleep before their … nighttime entertainment. On Claire's suggestion that maybe Maisie should consider lying down, as the girl was practically falling asleep on her feet, Maisie had gone pale, shaking her head no frantically, as a series of no's slipped from her lips. Claire had immediately reassured her that she didn't need to and Owen suggested that they go sit in the living room for a bit, maybe read some of her favourite book. At Maisie's nod of acceptance, Owen said he'd grab the book, knowing Maisie didn't want to enter her room yet, and Claire offered to make hot chocolate, as a soothing drink seemed in order, even if it was just after 8 in the morning.
She was pulling out the ingredients when her phone rang, Zia's name popping up the screen. She answered, and listened to Zia freaking out about how she had turned on her tv that morning and it was all about how something went down at their house during the night and what happened? and why hadn't Claire called. It took her ten minutes to calm Zia down and reassure her that they were all fine, but they were going to take it easy that day. And that yes, she would still be able to do the press conference for the DPG, and that Zia should go ahead with getting it set up.
After hanging up, she made up three cups to each person's specifications (loaded with mini marshmallows for Maisie, whipped cream with a sprinkling of cinnamon for Owen and a light sprinkling of marshmallows and a cinnamon stick stirrer for herself). She grabbed the cups for Owen and Maisie and headed into the living room, pausing in the doorway. They were on the couch, Owen leaning against the back with his feet propped up on the coffee table, while Maisie was curled up with her head in his lap, blanket covering her. Owen was holding The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe with one hand, reading aloud softly, while his other was running through Maisie's hair. She was surprised Maisie was still awake, although using the word awake might be a little generous, Maisie's eyes were glazed over with exhaustion, and kept closing with long blinks. Entering the room, she placed Owen's mug next to him on the side table, and Maisie's on the coffee table, although she would be surprised if Maisie actually drank any. She got a quiet thanks from Owen, before she headed back to the kitchen to grab her own.
Picking up her mug, she took a sip, enjoying the silence and the chance to hear her own thoughts. She was also hesitant to return to the living room, and figured a few more minutes alone wouldn't hurt. There was a pull in her chest to be beside Maisie, to be offering comfort, the way Owen was. But she couldn't shake the image in her head, of the two of them taking up the entire couch, no visible place left for her. She knew she was being melodramatic, that they would adjust and make room for her, but after everything… After everything, she just wanted to be an automatic part of their family, not someone they have to adjust for.
She didn't realize how long she'd been standing there, slowly sipping her own hot chocolate, lost in thought, until Owen interrupted her.
"Hey, you didn't come back," he said, stepping into the kitchen, carrying his empty mug and Maisie's.
Claire gave a half shrug, before asking, "Is she asleep?"
"Yeah, didn't take much," Owen nodded. "Didn't even manage a sip." He raised Maisie's mug, the pile of marshmallows had shrunk, but from melting and nothing else. He placed the two cups on the counter, before leaning against it with his hip, his gaze focusing on her inquisitively. "Everything okay?" He rolled his eyes at himself, before correcting. "I mean, besides the obvious."
Claire found herself nodding out of habit in response and made herself stop. If they were going to be able to fix things, if they were going to move forward, she had to stop lying – to herself and to him. She gave another half shrug before saying, "No, not really."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Owen asked, and although he said that calmly, she could see the anxiety radiating off of him.
She shook her head and took another sip, her hot chocolate now lukewarm. "Not really. I don't really know how to put my thoughts into words." She gave him a critical look, before setting down her cup. "We really should be putting more ice on your eye. It's definitely bruising." She didn't wait for an answer, as she moved to the freezer to get an ice pack. Between Owen and Maisie and their daredevil attitudes, ice packs were always on hand. And while his earlier one hadn't re-froze yet, she pulled another from the stack. "Here." She had planned on just handing it over, but found herself repeating her earlier actions, gently raising the ice pack to his eye, although this time they were both standing.
He was leaning against the counter now, and as she placed the ice pack on his eye, his hands moved to rest on her hips, gently drawing her closer, before they slid around her back into a loose hug, allowing her to keep her hold on the ice pack.
With a soft sigh, her other hand came up, running through his hair, before drifting down to rest briefly on his shoulder, then sliding partway down his arm. She let her head drop forward, forehead coming to rest against his shoulder. It was the gentle hand that started rubbing her back that caused her undoing, and silent tears came pouring out, soaking into his shirt as her hand on his arm fisted his sleeve in a tight grip.
To his credit, he didn't say anything, just kept gently stroking her back, pulling her a little closer, waiting out her tears. A few minutes later they do slow to a stop, but she didn't pull away at first, revelling in the first real intimacy they'd had in what had probably been months now. When she finally pulled back, she only shifted enough so she could see his face, the ice pack no longer cold against her hand. She dropped it onto the counter behind him, bringing her hand back to his face, gently brushing against the angry purple-y black bruise. "Does it hurt?"
"Only when I blink," Owen said, giving her a smile to let her know he was joking. Although Claire knew there had to be some truth to that, given how swollen it looked. "Besides, you should see the other guys."
"I did," Claire reminded him, a slight grin on her face momentarily. "Seriously though, are you okay, besides the eye?"
"Yeah," Owen nodded. "They only managed to land two lucky shots. They were too interested in trying to get out of the room."
"Two?" Claire looked him over. "Where else?"
Owen looked a little embarrassed, his gaze falling downwards. "I didn't manage to avoid his knee." Claire made the connection, but knew that it had been hours now and he hadn't been walking with any noticeable pain, so it was obviously not a hit that did any lasting damage, and she let it go. "You know," Owen added. "We really need to put some bars on her window. If it's not her going out, then apparently it's others coming in!"
"Owen," Claire said in a lightly scolding tone. "We're not turning her room into a prison."
"She's almost a teen," Owen reminded her. "I bet in a couple of years you'll be wishing we added those bars."
Claire just rolled her eyes, knowing he was only joking. They'd had too many close calls to ever permanently block an exit out of their house. "I do think we should look at a window that can lock."
"And a security system," Owen nodded in agreement. "I know the media attention will die down. They won't be here forever. But unless we move, and I don't want to, people are going to know how to find us."
"I love our house," Claire stated. "I don't want to move either." She wrapped her arms around him, leaning against his chest. "I usually love our life, too."
"Me too," Owen hummed in agreement, resting his head on top of hers. They stood there content for a few minutes, exhaustion weighing heavily on them both.
"Owen?" Claire asked tentatively, "Why do you always push me away?"
"Push you aw–? What do you mean?" Owen lifted his head, and Claire leaned back so she could see his face again.
"With Maisie," Claire clarified. "Whenever something happens, it feels like you pull Maisie close, but push me away. Like her running away. I wanted to go pick her up. I would've gone with you. But you pushed me to go into the office."
"I don't… I mean, I'm not trying to push you away," Owen disagreed. "I'm trying to support you. I thought you'd want to be in the office."
"And not go see Maisie? See our daughter? After she ran three hours away from us? Why would I want to be in the office?"
"But your job," Owen stammered, starting to feel cornered. He straightened a bit against the counter, and in response Claire pulled back more, her arms falling to her sides, while his moved to rest on the counter on either side of him. "You needed to be there."
"And today?" Claire asked. "What's your reasoning for today?"
"Today?" Owen looked confused. "What happened today? When did I push you away today?"
"When I brought the hot chocolate," Claire gestured towards the living room.
"I didn't push you away," Owen disagreed. "You never came back."
"Because there wasn't any space for me," Claire almost yelled, but caught herself, and instead ground it out. "It's always you and Maisie and I'm left feeling like I'm watching from the sidelines. A third wheel in our own family."
"Jesus Claire," Owen raked a hand through his hair in frustration. "What do you want from me? You work, all the time. Even when you're here, you're working. On your phone or in your office. When we took Maisie in, when we agreed on that, I knew it was going to involve sacrifices. I knew it meant living in a city, instead of out on an acreage. I knew it meant soccer games and parent-teacher conferences. That it meant family holidays and no last minute let's just get in the van and drive vacations." He paused and took a deep breath. "But I also knew that it meant being with you. And I thought that that would more than outweigh the rest. And it does. Or it did. Sort of. But I feel like I've been the only one sacrificing here." He took another deep breath before continuing, "You want to know why I didn't tell you about that job? Because I didn't know if you would be willing to adjust your schedule to be more present. And I didn't know if I could handle all the Maisie responsibilities while working full time." He paused, taking in Claire's shocked expression, the hurt obvious in her eyes. And as much as it felt good to be getting this off his chest, he could also feel his heart break. "Maybe you see it as me pushing you away, but often, it feels like Maisie's all I have. I don't have a fulfilling job, like you do. And some days, it doesn't feel like I have you either. I might have Maisie, but I don't have anything else."
Thank you to everyone who keeps reviewing and those who are new and catching up. I love hearing what parts of the story excite each of you. I wrote an epilogue, so there will be one coming. Yay!
As always, I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter. We're getting close to the end. Only 2 more chapters after this one + the epilogue.
I've got an idea for a sort of "replacement" FK fic, that would involve no volcano and no Maisie. Would anyone be interested in that? Still Clawen and no where near as angsty as this one. More Wu. And probably Mills. Let me know.
x x x
This weeks author recommendation is going to be Some Other Beginning's End by fayedartmouth. The fic is only on AO3. It's a one shot, but beware it's long - over 20k - so set aside some time to read it. It's a post JW fic that is primarily centered around Claire. It's Clawen (of course). I love Claire's character development - it's not her falling apart and Owen being there to save her. It's about her discovering she can save herself:
"There was no one left to save her.
But then she'd remembered.
She didn't need someone to save her.
Not when she had the power to save herself."
Also - Owen is HumanOwen, which is a nice change from the PerfectOwen that seems to be everywhere. :) Definitely check it out.