Disclaimer: I do not own the Jurassic Park/World franchise or any of it's characters; I only own the characters and plots of my own mind.
27. History Repeats
It was a week for experiencing déjà-vu. From the storm––which had raged for something close to twenty-seven hours––to the restaurant she was sitting outside of, waiting for who she was waiting for. Masrani was back on the island for the day, and had requested to meet with her where they'd shared lunch her first day on the island. Gwyn sat at the same table, under the same umbrella, lounging back in her seat. Her sunglasses were perched on the bridge of her nose to block out the blinding sun. Gwyn wore a button-down regardless of the heat, which protected her shoulders from an excess of sun exposure. If it wasn't for her ID badge clipped to a belt-loop on her shorts, she could be mistaken for an over-heated tourist.
She only perked up when a familiar face approached. Gwyn sat forward as Marani neared the table, marveling at how the man didn't appear affected by the heat at all, not even in his expensive slate-grey suit and complimentary lavender colored button down. Perhaps it was because he'd only been outside for a short while, while Gwyn had been in the sun for most of the morning. Masrani looked every inch the business man he was, cool and collected, even with a stylish pair sunglasses perched on his nose.
"Dr. Grant," greeted Masrani. He took a seat across from her, either ignoring or not aware of how familiar the situation felt.
"Mr. Masrani, it's good to see you again."
"And you as well. Thank you for taking time out of your schedule to meet with me."
Gwyn waved a dismissive hand and sat forward a little. "My schedule is significantly less busy these days. I was only happy to make some room to meet with you."
A waitor swung by to drop off a second glass of water for Masrani, and re-fill Gwyn's, which was half gone. After a quiet 'thank you' from both parties, Masrani removed his sunglasses to reveal furrowed brows and curious eyes.
"I trust you are aware that I am here to discuss the list of concerns that you shared with me?" he inquired. A sense of relief flooded Gwyn's body. She pushed her sunglasses to rest atop her head, and squinted a little into the bright sunlight. A little of the weight on her shoulders lifted. Her shoulders also visibly relaxed, slumping into something more casual than tense.
"I was hoping so," Gwyn admitted on a slight exhale.
Masrani folded his hands atop the table and the untouched menu. Part of Gwyn was sure that this 'lunch meeting' would forgo the eating aspect. Though knowing her concerns would finally be addressed, the atmosphere felt quite serious, and she couldn't picture casually gnawing on some french fries while talking about everything.
"I have read them over. I can understand where they are coming from, and your research perfectly supports your reasoning. I have asked for some of them to be addressed, such as your concern that the paddock is too small; I've been assured that the rennovations have started and are going smoothly. What my concerns have been––and I'm sure that you have have been worried about this as well––is why I was not privy to these issues before now," Masrani reasoned.
"Yes, I've been… quite curious," she admitted, feeling some tension creeping back into her shoulders.
"When I asked Dr. Wu about the missing portions of your notes, he admitted to leaving them out of the weekly progress reports." Gwyn clenched her teeth and fought to keep her expression neutral; she must have done a poor job because Masrani raised a finger in a 'wait' motion. "And his reasoning was as such: he assured me that the reason they were not included was because he was having them addressed internally. If they felt any of your concerns needed to be escalated, they would have sent them to me. However, I informed Dr. Wu that I wished he would have sent them along regardless," he explained.
Gwyn raised her hands and started to massage her forehead, which was crinkling and creasing in frustration. Frustration because it was sound reasoning. It was a reasonable excuse. It was one that she would have given at the museum, if the situation called for it. Though, of course, it would have likely been protocol to admit there was an issue and how it had been resolved, but it still made sense. It was frustrating because it was entirely likely that was what happened. That every time she sent in a complaint, Wu read it, put it out to his colleagues, and then they resolved that it could either easily be dealt with, or was not a concern. He had done––though with a few clear missteps––his job.
"Mm," was all Gwyn could bring herself to do in ways of response. It was muffled behind pursed lips and grit teeth.
"And as I made this inquiry, I was informed that you had been removed from the project."
Gwyn jerked her head in a stiff nod and pressed her fingertips against her forehead. "Yup."
"And I believe that Dr. Wu overstepped his boundaries."
Gwyn pulled her hands away from her eyes and peered at Masrani. Her expression was cautious, and his was cool and collected. It was there, sitting across from Masrani, that Gwyn stalled. It was like, all her life, she'd waited for someone to say that Wu and taken one step too far. That he'd taken a step too far against her, specifically. It was strange to finally hear it. It felt like the heavens should have opened and beamed down rays of light, that everything would seem infinitely better; but all Gwyn felt was… confused. Her eyelids fluttered and she melted back into her chair; with one hand raised and her eyes falling shut, she tried to collect her thoughts.
"I… thought he was my supervisor," she said slowly.
"He was; though I never gave him the power to remove you from the project without prior approval. When your duties at the park were changed, they had to be approved by me first. In that instance, Dr. Wu went through all the proper channels, which is why I am confused as to why he made such a brash decision," Masrani admitted, genuinely looking at a loss for words.
For a quiet moment, Gwyn just held Masrani's gaze. Some deep, sadistic part of herself wanted to say that she didn't know why, either. Wanted this to grow out of hand till Wu felt the pain and frustration she'd been dealing with for months. But her conscience railed against that urge. With a sound half caught between a grunt and a groan, Gwyn dragged her chair a little closer to the table. She braced an elbow atop it and pressed her hand against her forehead.
"I'm… unsure if you were made aware, but Wu and I have pitted ourselves against each other for years. When I was protesting the opening of this park, he and I were put into communication via email, and none of the messages were particularly pretty. I fear that this… predisposition towards each other has leaked into our professional lives. I have made missteps because of it and, in this case––and I can't believe I'm saying this––I think that he has as well. Henry Wu is very dedicated to his work. He wouldn't intentionally jeopordize it." Some of the words burned on her tongue, like she'd been holding an ice cube atop it. But it was true––if there was one thing Gwyn could admire about Wu, it was his work ethic.
Masrani seemed to consider what had been said and started to nod slowly. One of his hands found its way to his chin, fingers gently massagin it. "So, despite your conflict, you do not think he overstepped?"
Gwyn made an almost pained sound and shook her head.
"No, I think he did. But I will always be inclined to say that, unless some… miracle of god changes my opinion of him overnight. What I'm trying to get at, ultimately, is that Wu works very hard, I just think someone needs to be watching him closer. Because the Indominus, it…" Gwyn blew out a puff of breath and shook her head, trying to rid the mental image of Ingrid staring up at her with bloody teeth.
"Well, the Indominus is meant to be frightning, it's the brand new apex predator," Masrani said, as though it were simple.
Whatever relief Gwyn had previously felt disappeared and tension tightened every muscle in her body. She peered at Masrani, wide-eyed, and a little thrown. "What?"
For a moment, it looked like Masrani was confused; his eyes narrowed a little and his lips parted. He leaned a little heavily on the table and gestured to Gwyn with a hand. She raised her eyebrows slowly. "That is what this park is meant to do, is it not? We agreed on the day you first arrived. Jurassic World is meant to remind us how very small we are. The Indominus was made to remind us of that."
Increduility started to build in the pit of Gwyn's stomach, and it started to build rapidly.
"You… you had this dinosaur made because it's meant to be… what? Scary? To scare the shit of everyone who comes to see it it?"
Masrani's shoulders rose and fell and he splayed his hands through the air. "It's what the public wanted. They were no longer phased by the tyrannosaurus-rex."
Just the statement 'no longer phased by the tyrannosaurus-rex' was mind boggling to Gwyn. She shook her head in disbelief at the statement and at what he was implying that they had done.
"Maybe so, but you do realize that 'scarier' often correlates with 'more dangerous,' right? If you're just… combining the 'scariest' parts of different dinosaurs, you've really got yourself a problem," Gwyn stressed, nearly scoffing at the end. "A lot of those traits when combined could become volatile."
"But with you monitoring––"
"Me monitoring them will only do so much! Look at where its got us––with one less dinosaur and a list of barely addressed concerns, which were born out of the monitoring. Look, I'm reaching the end of my rope, here," Gwyn laughed humorlessly. She felt as though the smile that appeared on her face, suddenly, looked manic. "Put me on the project and ensure I'll be listened to, let me comfortably continue my research on the velociraptors, or ask me to leave. But I cannot stand to be… yo-yoed like this anymore. It's exhausting."
It was quiet between the two for a moment. Masrani started to drum his fingers on the table top, his gaze considering. Gwyn had started to slump a little, her shoulders hunched, her expression pleading. The whole situation had gone from relieving to ultimate stress inducing. She'd always felt Masrani was on her side––and it seemed he was––but it became perfectly clear that, despite this, he was still a businessman. He could have the best intentions, but if he thought something would benefit his company, his park, he'd do it. Such was why the Indominus existed; not because of Wu––not entirely, at least––but because of Masrani.
"Is this an ultimatum?" asked Masrani gently. His expression and tone of voice were unreadable.
Gwyn had to take a moment to process the question because she didn't know. She hadn't intended on giving one, but, she supposed that's what she wanted. Either to be listened to, or left alone.
"Yes," she said.
There was another pause, one where Masrani glanced down at his lap. "I recieved an email the other day. From a Dr. Murphy. Tim Murphy, John Hammond's grandson. I believe you are familiar with him," he said. Everything about Masrani was still perfectly unreadable. It was almost frightening. It struck Gwyn into a silence that was only momentarily prolongued when Masrani looked up at her expectantly.
"Um, yes," Gwyn said, after clearing her throat. "Yes, I am."
"He requested that I hold a meeting between myself, some of the executives, and a select group of people that wished to voice their concerns. Would I be correct in assuming that your name would be on that list?" he asked.
Though it felt like her voice had failed her, Gwyn nodded and responded. "Yes." It came out sounding more resolute than she thought it would. If Masrani even thought of giving Tim a hard time about it, she'd pull all the blame onto herself; it had been her idea after all.
"Would I also be correct in presuming that this… select group of people would include survivors of the nineteen-nintey-three incident and the Isla Sorna incidents?"
"Yes."
Masrani nodded and brought his hands to clasp together again. "I… have entertained the idea," he admitted carefully. "Perhaps it would be in our interest to listen to those who we have so often brushed away." Gwyn sat, for the second time that morning, a little dumbfounded. She'd expected more of a fight, perhaps, from a businessman whose livelihood was being called into question. Afterall, that's what had happened time and time again when it was announced the park was reopening. "And I would like you to return to the Indominus Project. I will have a discussion with Dr. Wu about seeing you reinstated."
"Thank you, Mr. Masrani."
"But of course Dr. Grant. You are an invaluable member of our staff!" Masrani proclaimed, his tone as genuine as his smile. Gwyn's mouth twitched up a little at the corner. Then, with a broad grin, Masrani splayed his hands out. "Now, enjoy your day! You never know where life will take you next; you need only allow it to guide you along the way."
OOOO
"He fell into the pit?!" Gwyn all but squealed.
She sat gaping at Owen, who was relaying the near disaster that had taken place once she had left the paddock. Upon finishing her meeting, Gwyn took a long lunch––so she could actually get some––and joined Owen on his break at his bungalow. Once she had divulged what happened at the meeting, Owen regaled her with a harrowing story. Apparently one of the newbies had tried to catch a loose pig, but one of the girls had snatched it up, caught onto the net, and ended up toppling the poor young man straight into the paddock.
"He's okay," Owen said with a mild shrug, tone light. His focus was on part of his motorcycle, which had been out of commission for a couple of weeks with some problems. He sat on an overturned bucket on one side, and Gwyn sat on a cooler on the other. A luke-warm glass bottle of coke was pinched between her fingers, left practically untouched as she was regaled with the frightening tale. One that was all too familiar to her; though it had ended much better than hers had.
"I'm shocked about that, genuinely," Gwyn admitted bluntly. She brought the bottle of coke to her lips with a shake of her head.
Owen narrowed his eyes at her from over the seat of the bike. "I thought the girls were growing on you."
Gwyn, who was mid swig, widened her eyes. She pulled the bottle away and gestured wildly with it. "They are, but they've still got instincts."
"And if it weren't for me, he'd be raptor chow."
"So you do admit it's lucky that he's alive."
Owen sat straight and quirked an eyebrow. He spun a ratchet around while a cocky little smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. Gwyn raised an eyebrow in silent response, resting her forearms across her knees.
"And you aren't concerned for my safety?" he asked, almost coyly.
Gwyn rolled her eyes mightily, but an unfightable smile pulled across her face. She leaned her weight on her forearms and gently raised her eyebrows.
"You're the alpha, Owen," she very nearly purred. She very much enjoyed the way Owen's face fell a little at the tone of her voice, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Your girls wouldn't hurt you." Gwyn's eyes dropped to the ground, then, her expression sobering. One of the most heart-stopping moments of the tale for Gwyn, was the re-telling of Owen's rescue. How he'd willingly entered the paddock and held the girls off while the newbie was drawn to safety. He'd stood there, unprotected, placing all his trust in four velociraptors laden with killer instinct. "If I'd been there, I would've lost it, probably. It's one thing to see a pig get hunted, it would be another to see someone directly up against them again." Her hand found its way to her chest, fingers massaging her scar. "You're lucky."
On the other side of the bike, Owen watched her with the gentlest expression. Every now and again he'd spin the ratchet, and his eyes fell to trace the jagged length of the scar on Gwyn's chest. His gaze became thoughtful when it did. She wondered if he pictured the moment it happened to her, and if he wondered what fate could have befallen him if he hadn't been so lucky. Then his eyes jumped back up to meet Gwyn's and he bobbed his head in a nod.
"Yeah, I probably was." He took a swig of his coke and then tossed the ratched aside. It landed in his toolbox with a clatter. "On a lighter note, I was thinking we could have dinner tonight," he said.
Gwyn arched her eyebrows, glad for the sudden topic shift. With a smile reappearing on her face, she tilted her head curiously. "Oh? Are we ordering in again?"
"No, I thought we could go out. Get started on all those fancy dates I said I'd take you out on." Owen winked at her from over the seat of the motorcycle. He reached down and grabbed a small, red wrench from the metal tin of tools.
Gwyn beamed at him and laughed gently. After the twists and turns her morning had taken, this was a much needed reprieve. "I like the sound of that. I'll even do you the courtesy of changing out of my dirty, sweaty work clothes before we go."
With a grin stretched across his face, Owen started working on the Scrambler again, twisting something around with the wrench.
"Y'know, I wouldn't be mad if you were all dirty and sweaty."
"Owen," Gwyn stated, fighting off a bout of laughter. It was to no avail, however, the laughter leaking into her voice.
"What?" Owen drawled, dragging the word out. He sat back and fixed her with a roguish grin. "We live in the tropics, it's hot! And we work with animals, hence the dirt." He threw a wink her way. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Grant."
"What if I don't want to?" Gwyn posed cheekily, bringing the bottle to her lips. She quirked an eyebrow and tilted her head back, keeping her gaze locked with Owen as she did so. The grin on his face became lopsided, his head cocked to the side languidly.
"Then I guess we'll have to have a conversation inside."
Before Gwyn could ask what that conversation would or would not entail, the sound of an approaching vehicle grabbed their attention. The car was a company car, silver and sleek and surprisingly spotless, save for the flecking of mud by the wheel wells. They couldn't see the driver till they stepped out––it was Claire. She looked out of place. Her outfit was completely white, utterly spotless, and picture perfect. She practically glowed against the backdrop of foliage. A blazer hung off her shoulders elegantly, and she fixed the fit of it, along with her hair, once she climbed out.
"What do they want now?" Owen murmured, almost to himself.
"To ruin our day?" Gwyn offered casually. Her companion snorted under his breath, shoulders jostling with the force of it.
"Mr. Grady, Dr. Grant, I need you to come take a look at something," Claire said while she approached. Her steps wobbled a little, the heels of her high-heeled shoes sinking into the ground a little. She came to a stop a couple feet away from the two and the motorcycle, her hands clasping in front of her stomach. It was clear that Claire was in business mode; Gwyn had seen her shift in and out of it enough to know when she was putting up a front.
"Why're you calling me 'Mr. Grady'?" Owen inquired.
"Owen," Claire fixed.
Owen made a face and glanced over at Gwyn. "Still doesn't sound great next to 'Doctor.'"
Gwyn and Claire simultaneously rolled their eyes, but for different reasons. Gwyn had rolled hers for the cheek she heard in Owen's voice. She could only guess that Claire had rolled hers because he was being difficult.
"If neither of you are too busy."
"What do you need?" Gwyn asked kindly. Claire shot her a look that was quietly thankful, because it was very clear that one half of the duo she'd come to see was not going to cooperate.
Owen made a face, took up his coke, and brought it to his lips. "I'm pretty busy."
Claire took a breath and visibly fought to keep her expression neutral. "We have an attraction––"
"That's not what you said the last time I saw you," he fired back easily. He rose from his makeshift seat and Gwyn eyed him curiously from hers. Slowly, her eyes drifted to Claire, who shifted on her feet and pressed her lips together. Her eyes darted briefly towards Gwyn before they refocused on Owen's, a silent warning flashing through them. One that the paleontologist was easily able to read.
"I'm talking about the dinosaurs, Mr. Grady," Claire said in a reprimanding tone. The two had a bit of a face-off, staring the other down intently.
Gwyn darted her eyes between the two with interest, trying to piece together just what this interaction was amounting to. She had never been in the same place as the two of them at the same time. Owen and Claire's circles never intersected. Whether that was by coincidence or design, she didn't know; but Gwyn was starting to wonder if they made sure that they didn't cross paths. Claire had always seemed to have a certain distaste for Owen, just as he seemed to hold the same feelings towards her.
"Owen," he corrected pointedly.
Claire sighed tiredly. She then made a sound and started to swat at the air, trying to bat away an insect that had started buzzing in front of her face.
"A new species we've made," Claire informed while she leaned away from the pesky fly. Gwyn dropped her head with a sigh. Of course that was what she was there for.
Owen, who had started to walk towards her, reached out and caught the fly in his palm. With a self-satisfied smirk, he brushed the dead insect off his hand against the side of his leg. He turned back around and cast Gwyn a look from the corner of his eye. A questioning one. Gwyn, who was taking a swig from her coke, shut her eyes and bobbed her head solemnly. Yes, it conveyed, it's what I was working on. Owen gave a subtle nod and continued over to a table, where a series of tools and rags were placed.
Gwyn rose to her feet. "The Indominus. Right?" An almost apologetic look crossed Claire's face. "Unless there's another frankensaur you've been hiding from me." Gwyn's face scrunched up as she considered the possibility, and a tired groan slipped past her lips. "Please tell me there isn't another one."
Claire let out a tiny sigh and shook her head. "No, there's not." Her tone was placating, gentle. Friendly, even. Gwyn nodded in thankful relief, and took another swig of her soda; it soothed the dryness that had overtaken her throat at the thought of another frankensaur.
"You just went and made a new dinosaur?" Owen questioned, though he already knew.
"It's kinda what we do here," her tone had become more biting, less amiable––a far cry from the way she'd spoken to Gwyn. "The exhibit opens to the public in three weeks. Mr. Masrani wanted me to consult with you. Both of you."
Owen, who had picked up a larger ratchet, twisted it around as his eyebrows quirked. He leaned his weight onto one hip, which set him in a jaunty stance. "All of us need to consult, huh? So why don't we all consult as a group out here," he then twisted around to fix a not-so-subtle, subtext laden look at Gwyn, "and then Gwyn and I can… consult in my bungalow. Just us."
It was almost impossible not to laugh. Gwyn snorted instead, however, and a disbelieving grin pulled across her face; Owen only smirked wider.
"That's not funny," Claire informed flatly.
Owen chuckled throatily and climbed up onto his deck. "A little funny. Right, Gwyn?"
Gwyn hummed a high-pitched sound and made a face. She shoved a hand into the pocket of her shorts and shrugged. "I dunno, I'm torn," she replied. "Not exactly the most professional response."
"Thank you," Claire stressed, gesturing to Gwyn with an emphatic hand. Gwyn simply replied with a little tip of her soda bottle. "We'd like you both to evaluate the paddock for vulnerabilities."
"Why me?" Owen called as he disappeared around the side of his bungalow.
"I… guess Mr. Masrani thinks since you're able to control the raptors…" Claire made to follow after Owen, climbing up the steps of the deck. She trailed off, clearly at a loss for explanation. Still stood by the bike, Gwyn popped a foot up on the cooler and cocked her head to the side.
"Should I just presume it's likely Masrani already got my position on the project reinstated?" Gwyn asked. From her spot at the top of the steps, Claire angled her body so she could both talk to Gwyn, and holler back to Owen if needed.
"Yes. Welcome back," Claire confirmed.
"Must have pulled a lot of strings to get me back that quickly," she mused.
Claire arched her eyebrows and shrugged. She splayed her hands out, as though the situation was laid out plainly before them. "He made it very clear that you were to be involved in the project indefinitely. Said that you were an invaluable asset to the development of the project."
Gwyn nodded and felt her stomach twist oddly. It was both a relief and a stressor to be put back on the project. On the one hand, she would be able to keep an eye on things again. On the other hand, things could get so out of hand and out of her control that she could find herself having a panic attack. Again. And being called an 'asset' to the project didn't sit well with her either; the Indominus was an 'asset.' She was a paleontologist. It made her uncomfortable, made her feel like she would be examined under a microscope just as closely as the frightening frankensaur.
"So, before we go, is there anything that I should get caught up on?" Gwyn asked. She watched as Claire's pleasantly professional expression faltered a little around the edges. Something had happened; there had to be a reason why Masrani so suddenly wanted not only herself, but Owen to do a check on the paddock. The only question was, what happened. So Gwyn tried to field what had happened, get a general sense of why their presence was needed so urgently. "Any more… incidents with the handlers? Issues with the feeding routine?"
For a moment, nothing was said. They were left to listen to the ambient buzz of insects and the rustling of jungle foliage. Claire pushed hair behind her ears––something that Gwyn thought might be an anxious tick for her––and wet her lips with a quick dart of her tongue. When her mouth popped open to speak, someone else's voice cut through the air.
"It's all about control with you." Owen sauntered from around the corner of the bungalow, eyes focused on the park coordinator. He pointed at her with the ratchet, a smirk tilting his lips. "I don't control the raptors. It's a relationship. It's based on mutual respect." He twirled the ratchet around once. "That's why you and I never had a second date."
With that comment, with that one sentence, things began to piece together for Gwyn. Why Claire had warned her to be careful around Owen, why Owen made scoffing comments about Claire whenever an issue with her popped up. They'd had a thing. It wasn't something either had mentioned before, but she supposed there had been no reason to. It was very clear that they'd been attempting to keep it professional. Gwyn shook her head a little as she tried to picture whatever dynamic their presumed 'thing' must have had. It seemed explosive, in theory; it felt like Owen's flippancy and care-free attitude would clash directly with Claire's need to keep things organized and perfectly in place.
"Excuse me? I never wanted a second date!" Claire amended. She stood her ground at the top of the stairs, offence clear both on her face and in her voice.
"Who prints out an itinerary for a night out?"
"I'm an organized person."
"What kind of a diet doesn't allow tequila?" Owen plopped himself back down on his makeshift seat.
"All of them, actually," she defended. "And what kind of man shows up to a date in board shorts?"
"It's Central America, it's hot!" Owen took his chance to defend himself. He busied himself with the Scrambler again, and avoided looking at anything but his beloved bike.
Gwyn stood, mouth partially hung open, watching the two bicker mercilessly. The biting words were exchanged rapid fire, like they'd been fighting in such a manner their entire lives.
"As… entertaining as it is to watch you to fight, this was initially work related, yes?" Gwyn pointed out. "Y'know… big, scary frankensaur? Something about the paddock needing our attention?"
Claire visibly pushed down her frustration and raised her chin.
"Okay. Okay, yes––we can just focus on the asset, yes."
"The asset?" Owen rose again and tugged a rag out of his back pocket. He came to stand at the bottom of the steps, scrubbing his hands with the cloth. "Look, I get it. You're in charge out here. You've gotta make a lot of touch decisions. It's probably easier to pretend these animals are just numbers on a spreadsheet. But they're not. They're alive."
Claire fixed him with a look, one that said she feared for his sanity––or his intelligence. "I'm… fully aware they're alive."
"You might've made them in a test tube, but they don't know that. They're thinking, 'I gotta eat. I gotta hunt. I gotta…'" Owen raised a fist and thrust it forward slowly, purposefully a couple of times. The implication was clear, and if it wasn't, it was certainly more understandable when one took in the way he'd cheekily sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. "You can… relate to at least… one of those things. Right?"
"I'll be in the car." Claire descended the stairs with purpose, before coming to a stop on the bottom one, which left her eye-to-eye with Owen. Her gaze, however, focused just beyond his shoulder, on the only other woman in the immediate area. "Dr. Grant, it is immeasurably pleasing to have you return to the project. Your presence was missed."
"I'm sure Wu and his associates were crying a river at my departure," Gwyn deadpanned. She then watched as Claire rolled her gaze to Owen, her lips drawing to the side in an expression distinctly less professional.
"You might want to change your shirt. They're very sensitive to smell." With that, and a parting smirk, Claire strode back to her car and climbed back in.
Owen snorted, shook his head, and returned to his tool table. Quietly, Gwyn laughed and then proceeded to let out a low whistle. From the table, Owen quirked his head upwards in silent question.
"That was… a lot," she teased. She placed her soda on top of the cooler and then slowly sauntered towards Owen, hands in her pockets. She leaned back against the table, perching on the edge of it. With a prompting expression, Gwyn leaned towards him pointedly. "So… you and Claire."
Owen placed the ratchet down and met Gwyn's gaze evenly. It was intent and serious, though it teetered on the edge of something––something like pleading, a hope of understanding. She braced her hands on either side of her hips and cocked her head to the side.
"It was a while ago." He said it like it was supposed to be a promise. But in response to that reassurance, Gwyn just shrugged. She smiled easily, which almost seemed to catch Owen off guard. Her smile grew a little, amused, and she nudged his ankle with the toe of her boot.
"I don't care. Really. And it's not like you were hiding it from me; I never asked."
Owen's thrown expression morphed into one that was gently amazed. He shook his head and chuckled under his breath, quiet but genuine. "You're remarkable, you know that?"
Gwyn snorted and pulled a face. "I'm being a reasonable human being. We all have our past relationships; even if they only lasted one date. Besides, Claire and I are cool. We learned it was better to stick together than to be at each other's throats. You'd be surprised at how many people don't listen to her." Then, with a slow smirk, she reached out and pinched at his shirt, just over his heart. The off-white henley was a little sweaty to the touch. "You gonna change?"
With a tilt of his head, Owen shuffled to the side so he stood directly in front of her. Gwyn let her palm rest flat over his heart. "Why? You gonna help me?" he asked, voice low. A laugh bubbled from her mouth and her hand dropped away, her fingertips just barely grazing the length of his torso as it lowered.
"You're full of cheek today, mister." He shrugged but grinned. She rolled her eyes and pushed off the table, and Owen gave her the room to stand and move comfortably. "As much as I would love to help you change, I've gotta go mentally prepare myself to go back to that paddock," Gwyn replied.
The last time that she'd been at the Indominus Paddock had been the day that Ingrid had eaten her sister. The day that Gwyn had spewed out information that she shouldn't have let Owen know. She wondered if that impulsive moment of secret spilling had doomed Owen to be dragged into this mess. Like earlier, she felt the same apprehension regarding her return to the project. But, this time, she was dragging someone else into it with her.
"Hey." Owen took one of his hands in hers and gave it a squeeze. "You got this. I'll be there for back up, if you need it."
Gwyn shifted her hand so their fingers became interwoven. A small smile appeared on her face, unbidden but not unwanted. It was the kind of smile that made her better just for having it. "Brachiosaur's the word, right?"
"Yeah. Brachiosaur's the word," Owen agreed.
The moment that followed the agreement was simultaneously gentle but tense. Like one of them was waiting for the other to do something, to fulfil something that the moment required. And, perhaps, if it weren't for the startlingly short beep of Claire's car horn, something might have happened. But, instead, Owen cleared his throat and gestured to the bungalow, muttering something about a shirt. And Gwyn stood by the tool table as he went to change, gently flexing the fingers on the hand that he had been holding. Her fingers fluttered and fiddled, the feeling of Owen's between them still lingering. Once, she'd told off Hoskins saying that she didn't need anyone to save her; but having someone with her, at her side, was pretty damn nice, no matter the situation.
OOOO
The car ride to the Indominus paddock was quiet. It was tense. It was generally uncomfortable. No one spoke, and for numerous different reasons. Any number of conversations could exclude or irritate or instigate. So they all, silently, decided to play it safe and not say a word. Gwyn sat in the passenger's seat, staring out the window with a perpetually pinched expression. Going back to the paddock put her nerves on end. The Indominus would be bigger; its predicted––and exceeded––growth pattern would make sure of that. The time Gwyn had spent away from the paddock was substantial enough that new behavioral patterns or issues could have arisen. But that information was likely being held close to corporate's chest. It was possible that while Gwyn would be allowed to know, Owen would not be.
Upon arriving at the paddock, the first thing Gwyn noticed was the amount of construction happening. There were cranes and trucks, and construction workers milled around with various tools in hand. Sparks fell in shower-like sprinkles as welders worked on heightening the walls. It was, perhaps, the only comforting thing about seeing the paddock again.
"I see renovations are well under way," Gwyn commented.
Claire put the car in park and popped her door open, the other two following her lead. "Shortly after the gala we were approved to begin renovating," Claire explained. "We have the world's best engineers at work here. They've told us that, despite the amount of work they have to do, we won't have to postpone our opening day. Which is excellent because we've been pre-booking tickets for months." Claire's voice was raised so it would carry over the crunch of gravel and the low drone of construction. Gwyn reared her head back a little in surprise. With eyes wide with confusion, she twisted her head around to look at Claire, who was quick to stride past her and Owen, who had been walking at a casual stroll.
"Have you? You only announced the Indominus Rex's existence the other week," she pointed out slowly. Claire gave a slow nod but flopped her hand into the air dismissively.
"We made it public there would be a new attraction; people will pre-book without knowing if it's hyped up enough," she clarified. "New dinosaur, new patrons. The park needs a new attraction every few years in order to reinvigorate the public's interest. Kind of like the space program." She cast a look back at Gwyn and paused at the bottom of the stairs. "The mystery helps sometimes. A new dinosaur is exciting––a new mystery dinosaur sells more tickets. And not just families will come. Scientists of all sorts will pay to come, and some of them could become potential investors. Corporate thought the genetic modification would up the wow-factor."
They started to walk up the stairs in a single file, Claire at the head, Gwyn in the middle, and Owen at the rear. Their footsteps tromped on the metal stairs, which rattled with each step the three of them took. Behind Gwyn, Owen snorted breathily, disbelievingly.
"They're dinosaurs, 'wow' enough," he reasoned, not grasping corporate's reasoning.
"Not according to our focus groups."
"That's horrifically disheartening," Gwyn deadpanned. Her hand glided along the handrail limply. It really was disheartening. As the years went by, it was easy to see the effect that Jurassic World's––and its predecessor's––mere existence did to the world of paleontology and the general wonder based around dinosaurs. Funding was harder to come by, because they always reasoned they could fund live dinosaurs rather than finding dead ones. Kids would, one year, come in and marvel at the fossils, then the next year come back and whine about wanting to see a living triceratops. The fact that the wonder for such marvelous, incredible animals was diminishing because they weren't 'cool' enough made Gwyn want to tear her hair out.
"The Indominus Rex makes us relevant again," Claire continued.
"And at what cost…" Gwyn muttered lowly, to herself.
Behind her, Owen chuckled throatily, disbelievingly. "The Indominus Rex…" he stressed in the voice of a man who clearly thought the name was stupid. Gwyn couldn't hide her scoff of agreement; when Wu had first introduced her to the animal, if her horror hadn't been so pronounced, she might've laughed. Might've called bullshit the way Tim had done over the phone.
"We need something scary but easy to pronounce." They crested the top of the stairs, and Claire fixed them both––mostly Owen––a look. "You should hear a four year-old try and say archaeornithomimus." She tapped in her access code and pushed the door open, letting a breeze of chilled air waft over them. Claire swept inside and kept going, clearly done with any attitude Owen might continue to sling her way.
"You should hear you try and say it…" Owen muttered almost childishly.
Gwyn snorted and threw a hand out, catching the door before it could close. She arched an eyebrow back at Owen, a silent, questioning reprimand. Owen shrugged and held his shoulders up by his ear for a moment, hands held up in a display of innocence. With a tilt of her head, Gwyn gestured for him to follow her inside; if the door closed, they'd probably get locked out. She was sure that her access code had been removed from the system, and it was likely not put back in yet. Upon entering the room, she lifted a hand to wave at the man seated in the corner.
"Hey, Frank," she greeted casually.
The man looked up from where he had been unwrapping his lunch, and a look of relief washed over his face. He let out a shaky exhale and stared at her like she was a godsend. "Gwyn. Thank god." The latter half of the sentence was muttered under his breath. Gwyn's eyebrows pinched curiously. Frank was a generally cheerful man, and it took a fair amount to make him feel distressed. It looked like she'd just woken him out of a nightmare and he was ready to start praising her for it. But before she could ask anything, Owen spoke up.
"So. What's this thing made of?" Owen asked.
"The basic genome is a t-rex, the rest is… classified."
Owen's hard, probing gaze swiveled to Gwyn, who shrugged helplessly. "I know about as much as you do. I have my guesses based on distinguishing features, but… your guess is as good as mine," she informed. "The lab seems to relish in giving me as little information as possible."
"You made a new dinosaur but you don't even know what it is? You don't tell your consulting experts what it is?" Owen's disbelieving eyes swapped back to Claire, who was smoothing a hand over her hair carefully. She gave a prim, delicate shrug, an attempt to brush off the criticism.
"The lab delivers us finished assets, and we show them to the public," came her response. Then, a little more forcefully, a little more annoyed, she made a request of Frank. "Can we drop a steer, please?"
From the corner, Frank let out a little sigh, but nodded and set his lunch aside.
"How long has the animal been in here?" Owen asked, walking towards the glass. Gwyn, however, hung back. There was nothing in the paddock that she hadn't seen before, and every step closer to the glass brought an increased level of anxiety.
"All its life."
"Never seen anything outside these walls?"
"We can't exactly walk it," Claire drawled sarcastically.
Gwyn hummed in disagreement and rocked back on her heels. Her eyes didn't stray from the windows, her body preemptively tensed for her first glimpse of Ingrid. "It spent a very brief stint in the lab just after hatching. Maybe a couple of days observation? Isolated room, no direct contact."
Owen pointed at the window, through which they could see the automated crane lower a steer carcass into the paddock. "And you feed it with that thing?"
But before Gwyn could throw her two-cents in on her feelings towards the feeding routine, something caught her eye. What she saw made her blood freeze. One of the window panes bore two cracks. They hung at eye-level, which made them impossible to miss once they were seen. They spidered outwards from their center, which spoke of a massive force having created them. Slowly, Gwyn started to inch towards them, Owen and Claire's conversation having gone mute in her ears. Nothing could drag her attention away from the blemishes. They hadn't been there when she'd left. They were new. By the time she was standing face-to-face with them, her heart felt like it was trembling.
"What're those?" Gwyn asked. The inquiry froze all conversation. Gone was the debate whether or not crane feeding was the best method; in its place was a tense silence. Gwyn darted her eyes at Claire, who was staring at her wide eyed. She tucked hair behind her ear before she pushed it back into place anxiously.
"Oh," Claire said, voice pitching upwards. "She, uh… she tried to break the glass."
"When?"
"Within three days of your departure."
A breathy exhale fled between Gwyn's lips; she raised a hand and touched the glass, which was still smooth on the inside. She couldn't imagine what it must have been like to be standing in that room as Ingrid tried to force herself through the glass; she counted herself lucky that she hadn't been there, because she likely would have been rendered catatonic. A quick gaze cast to the corner of the room revealed Frank frowning in her direction. So that's why he seemed so shaken. The cracks were why Masrani wanted her back on the project so quickly. Why he wanted Owen to do a check in.
"Ingrid tried to break the glass," Gwyn muttered. Her hand slipped away from the window and instead came to rest across her face. "Was she… agitated? Did something happen to make her… angry?"
"No," Claire denied. "Not that we are aware of. Masrani hoped that, perhaps, you would be able to figure that out."
Gwyn slid her hand along her face and let it rest over her mouth. Unexpected, unidentified aggression was an issue. A major issue. Her eyes darted between the two, spidering cracks. With a stuttering sound, Gwyn arched her shoulders up to her ears and held them there in some semblance of a shrug.
"I-I don't know what to tell you. I need… evidence and information regarding the lead-up to the incident if I'm going to make any sort of inference. At this point I'd be making guesses, and none of them would be educated. You're… sure that nothing happened to… I dunno… disrupt her routine? Is there a new provider for the carcasses she gets fed? Change of handlers?" Gwyn asked, racking her brain for any possible disruption.
When Gwyn turned her attention to Claire, hoping for an answer, she was greeted with a helpless silence. Claire splayed her hands through the air in a 'can't help you' kind of gesture, one that spoke of a frustration with the situation. With a sigh, the paleontologist hung her head and groaned. Nothing related to the Indominus could ever be simple. The overall frustration of being back at the paddock was starting to get to Gwyn; it was making her antsy, making her skin crawl and her stomach roil.
"Well…" Owen started. He crossed his arms and arched his eyebrows pointedly. "You left."
Gwyn's head snapped up and she furrowed her brows at him, expression starting to pinch. Just beyond him, Claire's head perked up, a slow realization started to crawl across her face. Gwyn suddenly felt zeroed-in on by everyone in the room––she could even feel Frank's eyes on her. A scoffed laugh pushed past her lips, but it faded into a look of 'you're kidding me.' When Owen raised his eyebrows a little more, Gwyn shook her head.
"What… what are you insinuating? That Ingrid acted out because I left?" she stressed incredulously. Then she laughed again, her head moving to shake in denial. It was made very clear that she thought the idea was ludicrous. Owen, however, didn't. He cocked his head to the side and thinned his lips out.
"Remember when you left the raptor paddock? Echo started to act up. Dinosaurs are like any other animal, they form attachments. You've given this one a name."
"I gave both of the Indominuses names to distinguish them more easily in my reports."
"You've always said that the dinosaurs need to be socialized. The only personable interaction that Ingrid had, other than with her sister… was you," Claire pointed out. Gwyn's pinched, incredulous expression started to fall, waning into something more sobered. "The reports show that you assisted one of the Indominuses in the hatching process. That you were in contact with one of them longer than the other was with any of the scientists. That Indominus is the one that survived––it's Ingrid."
Gwyn felt her arms instinctively curl up and cross over her chest. It was an instinctive grab for comfort, a need to feel protected against Claire and Owen's claim. She'd known that Ingrid was the one she'd helped in the lab. The reference reports she'd been given––that mostly consisted of redacted information––had told her that much. But Gwyn had never really thought that that one fleeting instance in the lab would come back to haunt her. She didn't have a bond with Ingrid the way Owen had a bond with the girls. Gwyn was simply an observer, removed and distanced from Ingrid's life by a pane of glass. But an image flashed to mind––Ingrid staring up at her with bloody teeth, a foot placed atop the corpse of her sibling. Gwyn had felt she was looking for approval, or was bragging proudly about her kill; the same way the girls looked to Owen for a treat.
A shuddering breath passed through Gwyn's lips, and she turned her attention back into the paddock. She felt, suddenly, very small. The thing that Masrani said the Indominus was meant to do; and, by god, was it working. From the corner of her eye, she saw Owen shift towards her, the shadow of concern washing over his face.
Gwyn cleared her throat and then gestured to the window. "Where is she?" she asked. Ultimately, it was a change of subject, but there was something strange to the fact that they hadn't seen Ingrid yet. The steer carcass hung tantalizingly from the crane, but there was no movement to indicate that Ingrid was eagerly approaching her impromptu meal.
A confused––and perhaps disgruntled––sound left Claire's throat. She listed towards the glass and aggressively tapped against it with the tip of her finger; it was like she was trying to summon the attention of a fish inside a fish tank.
"It was just here…" Claire muttered.
"You didn't… have medical come and tranq her for tests, did you?" Gwyn asked slowly, voice pitching up in cautious concern. Claire shook her head, hair fluttering around her face frantically.
"Is it in the basement?" Owen asked, almost flippantly. "Is there a downstairs? Maybe it's in the rec room."
"It was just here. We were just here," Claire stressed in concern. The sudden, worried tension that had crept into her voice sent an alarm blaring inside Gwyn's head. Both women shared a look, one that Owen didn't notice. One that conveyed how concerning it was that Ingrid hadn't appeared to eat. As a growing creature, she was always quick to arrive for her feeding times; but the raw meat was left untouched. There was rarely a moment where free, impromptu food was offered and not accepted.
"You were sure you saw her?" Gwyn clarified, voice trembling a little.
Claire strode to the control panel that Gwyn stood beside and started to tap at the screen, nodding anxiously. "Yes. We were just here…"
A series of buzzing sounds echoed through the room. Gwyn's already pinched expression started to crumble, and crumble quickly. Claire had been checking for thermal signatures; it's what they did when they couldn't easily spot the Indominus with their own eyes. Cameras installed in the paddock would detect the thermals given off the dinosaur's body, and give them her location. But the screens behind Frank started to bare the most panic-inducing message in red lettering: NO THERMAL SIGNATURES DETECTED.
"Oh, shit…" Frank muttered.
"No, that's not possible," Gwyn stressed, marching towards the screen displays. Her eyes danced over the six seperate screens, reading the same four words over and over again. The twisting in her stomach was acrid and nauseating. She threw a hand out and gestured to the screens. "That's impossible, isn't it? The only way she can get out is through that huge ass door. It's gotta be a system malfunction. Right?" Gwyn spun around on her heel and fixed Claire with a pleading, half-panicked look. "Right?"
"I-I don't…" Claire stuttered, wide-eyed.
"That doesn't make any sense…" Frank continued. He fit half of his sandwich into his mouth and started to glance over a display on his computer. His brows furrowed and he gestured at the reports he was looking over. "These doors haven't been opened in weeks."
A shrill, panic-induced laugh fled from Gwyn's mouth.
Owen, who had moved to the other end of the observation room, turned towards the three clustered in the corner. The first thing that struck Gwyn about him, in that moment, was the expression on his face. His brows were furrowed, but his eyes were alert. The overall look on his face was one of concern. It was the kind of look that crossed his face when he found out that one of the girls had adopted a dangerous behavior. He pointed through the observation window. "Were those claw marks always there?"
When Gwyn spotted what he was talking about, she felt weak in the knees. If the cracks in the glass had made her skin crawl, what she saw on the paddock walls made her want to pass out. All the air in her lungs fled in a mighty whoosh and left her light headed. There, scraped into the beige stone of the wall, were a series of slash marks. Large, long, and vicious, left behind by the claws of a massive creature. They scaled up the wall in a scrabbling pattern, almost as though something had tried to claw its way out and over the walls.
"Do you think it…?" Claire trailed off before realization struck her. "Oh, god…" She started to march towards the door on visibly wobbly feet, her arms swinging stiffly at her sides. "She has an implant in her back, I can track it from the control room." With that, Claire swept out of the control room, the door slamming shut behind her.
Gwyn's ears were ringing. The world was hazy except for the claw marks, scraped into the wall right next to the massive paddock door. Those were crystal clear and impossible to tear her eyes away from them. If anyone was speaking around her, she didn't hear them. If anyone was trying to talk to her, she didn't hear them. All that Gwyn could focus on was the growing sense of dread. Because life, hand-in-hand with history, had decided to play the cruelest joke it could ever play on her––again. It was repeating itself, and this time, she wasn't removed from it. She wasn't in Montana, waiting for word that everything and everyone was okay. Gwyn was smack in the center of it, unable to escape, and ready to scream.
Afterword: New Orleans was lovely, and I'm about to start my final year of college, so I'm channeling all my stress into writing. I obsessively edited the last portion of this chapter, and still don't know if it's the best. I wanted to keep writing the Indominus break-out, but the chapter would have been well over twenty pages long. It's already at eighteen now, as it stands. But, that means it'll just start off real action packed next time!
Review Replies!
NicoleR85: I'm also excited to finally be in the movie! There was so much more I could've written pre-movie, but it felt right to finally delve into canon events. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
WriterGirl1198: I'm always a fan of having a realistic spat in a relationship, but I don't believe in extending them beyond necessary. The fight they had was one that they could, would, and did resolve easily. If I'd dragged it out any longer, it wouldn't have made sense and it would have been unnecessary. I'm excited to delve further into the movie, too, though I'm worried about disappointing everyone, but that's just paranoia, probably. I also can't wait to write more about the other survivors, once they come into play again. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
AlchemyWriter: I'm excited that you're excited for the movie-involved chapters! I am too. It's been a LONG time coming! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
AccountKiller212121: Oh, Alan and Ellie will be absolutely LIVID; Ian, too, probably. And poor Tim… poor, poor Tim. Maybe I'll do a cut-away for a chapter to get some of their reactions. Alan's at the very least. And, yes, the Indominus still escapes! I haven't majorly deviated, I promise. I'm happy you've been enjoying Gwyn and Owen as a couple! I love writing them because their personalities play off each other well. And I love a good slow-build relationship (obviously, haha!).
Oh, and don't worry, I've got Ellie-Gwyn boy-chat time all queued up, and have for a while. And it seems that you keep reading my mind; I had originally planned on writing Owen having a nightmare, but I've moved it because initially it was going to happen pre-movie. I fully believe that Owen has nightmares due to his time in the navy. I mentioned it, briefly, in the chapter where Gwyn had her nightmare. So that's something that will happen in the future.
I love writing Dad!Alan! I took a lot of time parsing out what he would actually be like as a father. Because I do believe he'd be a little more blunt, a little more gruff––but still loving and immensely protective. He's awkward around kids, even his own, but he'd come into his own as a father… and, yes, perhaps a grandfather––grandad!Alan would make me MELT. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again for your lovely review!
ArtemeisLuna85: We'll get cutesy-flirty scenes… interspersed in the horrors of the events of JW. Lots of fun to be had! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
Faron Oakenshield: I'm excited to finally be writing movie events! I hope you enjoyed the newest chapter; and thanks again! More excitement to be had next chapter!
MsRosePetal: Owen and Gwyn being together by the start of the movie was something I believed heavily in achieving; because as interesting as it would be to develop that in the events of the film, they've waited long enough. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
MangoAiko: I'm excited to get working on the movie-events! A lot has changed since I originally planned out this story, so I'm ready to write it all out. And I had a lovely trip! Lots of fun, and I got to go see the WWII museum, which was phenomenal. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
NoVacancyMind: I don't think that I could have made it through the movie events with them fighting. A lot of what I've had planned hinges on the two being on good terms. That, and I felt like if they were fighting in the midst of the movie, it would be a little too similar to the Owen-Claire dynamic that exists canonically. I also love a good functioning relationship; and the fight served its purpose! They're learning how to communicate with one another, no further drama attached! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
AmericanNidiot: I do love Masrani. When I saw the movie the first time and he died I was like 'oh, geez, NO.' He truly has the best intentions, despite whatever missteps he might make. Getting to that part of the film is just gonna be… ouch. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
AugustRrush: Thank you! I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, as well!
Guest: Thank you! I was very adamant on having Gwyn and Owen on the same page by the time the movie started to tie into things. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
CJ/OddBall: The cliffhanger was a necessity, unfortunately! While we've finally delved into film events, it's still kind of in set-up time. Now that they've been to the Indominus paddock, things can really kick off. Storms in the JP universe are, indeed, harbingers; they mean nothing good is coming. So of course I had to throw one in there. That, and it was a good way to get Owen and Gwyn in the same place for some good one-on-one time. Gwyn always has a feeling that the island is cursed in some way, and the constant slew of storms proceeding bad news/events supports that theory. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter as much as the last one! Thanks again!
ForestWhisper3: Hi! Good to hear from you! :) I've always tried, with all of my stories, to make sure than any OC isn't just a plug-in. So I'm glad that Gwyn feels well-realized in the JP universe! I adore building character relationships (maybe that's the actor in me), so I spend a lot of time focusing on that. I spent a generous amount of time exploring Alan coming into his own as a father––which is why I wrote a prequel to this story whilst simultaneously updating both. It was very important for Gwyn's character to find out how Alan was as a dad. And I love a good slow-burn romance, because they're more realistic; and as much as this story is about them and their romance, it's also about Gwyn, so I have no qualms shifting attention away from the romantic aspects of the story. I adore all the movie characters, so I love getting to include them where the reboot franchise hasn't. I also died when Ian appeared in Fallen Kingdom. Thank you so much for your lovely review! I'm glad that you've been enjoying the story for so long, and hope that you continue to enjoy it!
Angel JJK: Owen and Gwyn are partners in crime once more, and they're venturing out into the events of the movie hand-in-hand! Next chapter is gonna be a fun one. Hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
Momochan77: Oh, I'm ready for it all to hit the fan. I've BEEN ready for it to hit the fan. I've had the next chunk of movie (the Indominus escape) written for some time, and I can't wait to finally get it out here to you guys! And if Gwyn comes face-to-face with Wu at any point… it's not gonna be pretty. Oh, just you wait, till she sees Hoskins… I'm glad you've been enjoying the build up! Get ready for everything to hit the fan at the start of next chapter; thanks again!
Makokam: Don't worry about not reviewing immediately; I feel you on feeling unfocused. Life has been getting hectic and crazy for me, so I felt real shit about the latter half of this chapter till I had the time to focus on it.
Rain is a plot device I've planned on using for quite a while; the movies use it liberally, and I thought that it would relate to the actual canon well. Gwyn's trauma definitely makes the storm feel worse; thunderstorms are hard for her anyways, so to have a tropical level storm that even reminds her of that fateful night enough to trigger her even more. I based the conditions of the roads on the very few over-head shots we get in the movie. Such as when ACU is deployed, the service roads still connected to the JP visitor's center, the parking area at the raptor paddock… all of them are dirt. I imagined that if the roads were guest-accessible, they'd probably be gravel or paved; but they seemed to do away with that idea, as guest-accessible roads seemed to be a major issue in what happened at JP.
I probably didn't do the best job of explaining it, but I pictured the storm not being horrendous when Gwyn left to go to the paddock. I pictured it getting worse as she drove, so that by the time she got there, the only options were really either stay in the paddock office or try and brave the roads and go back to the bungalow. At that point, it would have made more sense for her to stay put and wait out the storm, than it would be to go out and get trapped on a road somewhere.
The flirting was definitely a reference to Stick Together and Run, and definitely something that Gwyn likes to pull out every once and awhile; I've been planning on having that as a little cutesy moment for a hot second.
We are in the events of the movie. And my intent with this story was never really to have Gwyn ultimately block or prevent the escape of the Indominus. And this is purposeful. Gwyn, as previously mentioned and discussed, has this desire to be able to prevent disaster. Disasters such as the one of Jurassic Park, San Diego, and Isla Sorna––but she can't. As someone who survived one such disaster, and nearly lost loved ones to the others, she's definitely questioned if there was anything that could have been done to prevent them. And she hoped that by working at Jurassic World she can get answers––if anything could have been done, if anything can be done to prevent further issues. But she's one person. She isn't all powerful. But we will see how her involvement on the Indominus project will affect later events, just as her work with the velociraptors will come into play, too. Thank you, as always, for your detailed review; nothing makes me happier as an author than to be able to discuss things about my story like this. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
And thank you to those that have read and added this to their follows/favorites; it means a lot!
That's it for now! I jump back into school in the next three days, so bare with me. But I've got so much planned and written for movie events it should be easier to get chapters out. Thank you all for being patient and generally lovely!
~Mary
