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.

30. Jungle Blues

It, of course, made perfect sense that the next natural step of the investigation meant walking into the jungle on foot.

The first sign of Zach and Grey they found had not been encouraging. They'd found a gyrosphere––undeniably the one they were looking for––sat abandoned and broken, sparking and smoking in a jungle clearing. It had been clear something disastrous had happened. The gyrosphere looked as if it had been cracked like an egg. Half of the glass sphere had been shattered, and the other half bore pierced holes. The internal metal support bands had been torn and bent, as though made of cardboard. The sight alone had been enough to send Gwyn's heart lurch inside her chest. The addition of finding Zach's shattered cell phone and an indominus tooth had also not been terribly uplifting; they had no hope of contacting the boys, who had dashed into the jungle, as was made apparent by their muddy footsteps. So it was on foot that the three adults went to follow them, hoping beyond hope that they weren't too far behind.

Gwyn, who was batting at fern fronds as they walked, found herself locked in a kind of mental prison. Or, at least, that's what it felt like. The gyrosphere's crumpled metal and shattered glass harkened back to memories of an equally wrecked car. One that had been her prison, and had almost been her coffin. The memories of terror had risen like bile in her throat, and only worsened when she imagined what those boys must have gone through. For the first time since the Indominus' escape that morning, Gwyn felt like she was walking in the footsteps of her younger self. Each squelching step felt heavier in the last; it was like the island wanted to cement her to the spot and make her wallow in haunted memories. It felt like she was following the path of a ghost, retracing the path that had robbed her of childhood innocence. And it tore at her heart to think that Zach and Grey were already well down that pathway, and that there wasn't a way to turn back––just a chance to push them off it.

In front of her, Claire marched as though the ground were made of solid concrete. Her ankles wobbled every couple of steps, but it didn't deter her. She was a woman on a mission. The swinging of her arms was borderlining harsh, but it was likely the way that Claire was channeling her frustration and worry. Further ahead was Owen, who took assured strides as he followed the boys' previous movements. It was clear that they'd been running; it didn't take an experienced tracker to pick that out. Which could only mean one thing––the Indominus had chased them down. That wasn't an encouraging thought, but they'd been following their chosen path for a bit, which meant they'd put good distance between themselves and the monstrous creature, which was encouraging.

When they finally exited the jungle, they were greeted with grass that came up to their waists and softer ground. It was spongier underfoot, less muddy. There was a wide stream to their left, which rushed and babbled over rocks before spilling over the edge of a nearby cliff. Just the sight of the cliff and the sound of rushing water caused Gwyn's stomach to drop. This was an obstacle that the boys must have faced; and with the jaws of death chomping at their heels, there was only one thing that they could have done.

Gwyn approached the edge of the cliff and peered over, soon joined by Owen. It was a drop, one that she wouldn't have wanted to think about taking, but it didn't look like a particularly dangerous one. The water in the pool was a tropical, pleasant blue, and all of the rocks were clustered at the edges. So long as they didn't hit the water wrong, they boys should have made the jump okay. Gwyn looked over at Owen, who met her gaze evenly. He gently tilted his head towards the waterfall, a silent question. She gave a slight nod, agreeing just as silently. Their quietness was in an effort to stave off the likely panicked reaction that Claire would have to the newfound information.

It wasn't long, however, before she'd made the conclusion for herself.

"Oh my god, they jumped," she stressed. She was stood by the stream, clearly having previously thought they might have forded it. Gwyn gestured to the drop.

"They could survive it," Gwyn informed firmly. The attempt of reassuring, however, did not help.

"They couldn't have… gone around?"

Gwyn arched her eyebrows and placed a hand on her chest. "Speaking from experience, when you're being chased by a dinosaur, you're looking for the quickest way out, not the safest." This came out blunt, but Gwyn didn't have the expendable energy to try and sugarcoat anything. Everything she had was being focused on getting through the situation as quickly and efficiently as possible. Claire's shoulders hiked up to her ears with newfound tension.

"Brave kids," Owen commented, shouldering his rifle.

Gwyn turned her attention back to the waterfall. "They'd have to be," she murmured. The water rushed noisily, gushed relentlessly as it poured into the pool below; it would have been a frightening decision to make, even if it had been the best one.

There was only a beat of silence before the yelling began.

"Zach! Grey!" Claire's voice echoed loudly over the gushing of water, carrying over swaying tree tops and shivering fern fronds.

Gwyn felt her muscles tense. Both she and Owen whipped around to face the increasingly distraught Claire. She was pitched forward at the waist, face pleading, eyes glimmering with worry. The last thing they needed was to give their position away; they were on the heels of not just the boys, but the Indominus, too. If they caught her interest, they would be the new intended targets––and they couldn't find the boys if they were dead. Owen lunged backwards, held up a halting finger, and stooped a little to be at Claire's height. He shushed her and closed his fingers in a very clear 'be quiet' motion. Claire glared at him sharply.

"Hey! I am not one of your damn animals," she bit out, insulted.

Owen's hand continued to hover between them, fingers pinched together; he arched his brows pointedly, another silent plea to be quiet. "Listen––those kids are still alive. But we will not be if you continue to scream like that," Owen admonished in a hushed tone. There was a quiet stand-off between the two, and a war was fought in a silent war between their eyes.

Gwyn slipped into place beside Owen and managed to catch Claire's attention.

"We don't know how long ago the boys crossed through here. But they're definitely too far away to hear us if we shout; we have to keep as calm as possible, okay? Yelling will get us in trouble, and if we're in trouble, there's no one out here to help your nephews," Gwyn elaborated, a hair more diplomatic than Owen had been.

The tightness in Claire's jaw melted a little in resignation. Her shoulders slouched and the tension between her brows allowed them to unfurrow.

"So…" The word was spoken in a hushed whisper, which was a great relief. Claire started to flap her hands in front of her stomach, like that would accelerate her thought process. "You can… pick up their scent, can't you?" Gwyn arched her eyebrows at the inquiry. For a moment, she thought that Claire had cracked a joke; but the desperateness in her eyes spoke of a dead seriousness. "Uh––track their footprints?"

"I was with the Navy not the Navajo!" Owen ground out in a harsh whisper.

"So then what do we do? What do you suggest we do?"

"You get back. Gwyn and I will find them."

"No, we'll," Claire gestured to all of them, "find them."

"You'll last two minutes in there!" he contested. "Less in those ridiculous shoes."

With a faint glare, Claire fumbled with the belt at the waist of her blouse, and tugged at the buttons. It fell open to reveal a lilac purple camisole. With quick hands, she knotted the shirt closed and pushed the sleeves up to her elbows.

Owen gaped at her, clueless. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, voice rising back to normal volume in his confusion.

"It means I'm ready to go."

The former navy man rolled his eyes with a muttered 'okay.'

Tension began to gather in the air between the trainer and the operations manager. It felt as though a full on fight might erupt, the right button just needed to be pushed. And that was the last thing that they needed. With a quiet sight, Gwyn locked eyes with Claire. She jerked her head to the side.

"C'mere for a sec." Gwyn walked off a ways, eyeing the treeline cautiously. She listened to Claire trod over to her, the damp earth squelching quietly underfoot. When it was clear that Claire had joined her, she said, "You should go back."

An indignant, choked sound fled Claire's mouth. Gwyn turned her gaze to her co-worker, who gaped at her openly. "Excuse me?"

Gwyn held up a hand and braced the other on her hip.

"Look. This has nothing to do whether or not you can hike in those heels, or have self-control, or the drive to find your nephews––"

"It certainly feels like it," Claire bit out. Her face had tensed into something tight lipped and narrow eyed. Her hands had risen to brace against her hips defensively.

With her hand still raised placatingly, Gwyn arched her brows.

"But it's not. It has everything to do with the fact you'll be safer at the resort."

"Just because the two of you have… training and experience doesn't mean you're in any less danger!"

Gwyn clenched her hand into a fist and pressed her lips together. A vaguely frustrated sound grunted in the back of her throat and her eyes rolled heavenward for a second. The tension in her shoulders was starting to tense up the back of her neck. So she rolled her shoulders back and lowered her hands; she took a deep breath, forced her face to relax, and met Claire's eyes again.

"You're right. Owen and I are in just as much danger as you would be, or as your nephews are. But you can do things back at the resort that Owen and I cannot. You've got the ability to crowd control. You can call shots. We can't," Gwyn laid out.

"You agreed to let me come along––"

"That was before I knew we were going to be hiking through the jungle all afternoon. Look, you wanted me to be blunt with you, so I will be: you're no good to your nephews dead. And I'm not implying that my experience or Owen's training makes us any more likely to survive. But it does give us the slightest of upper hands, it just does." She watched Claire tilt her head back, eyes gleaming with watery frustration. Gwyn reached out and placed a hand on her co-worker's arm. "I know what it's like to have a loved one out there, how painful it is to feel like you're doing nothing. Trust me, I know. But you won't be doing nothing. You're a high ranking official at this place. People listen to you. So make them listen."

Claire lowered her head and locked eyes with Gwyn. She was silent, her lips pursed and eyes glassy. With a long, slow intake of breath, the manager of park operations jerked her head into a nod. "I… can get more security stationed on the resort perimeter. Make sure we have eyes out everywhere that's possible."

Gwyn nodded slowly, appreciatively. "And if your nephews come back while we're still out there, you'll be there for them." She squeezed Claire's arm gently. "We're fighters, Claire; we just fight in different ways."

Again, Claire nodded silently and turned her attention to Owen. She thrust an arm out, palm open and fingers outspread. He blinked at her and his shoulders sagged a little; he gestured at her hand with a wave of his own.

"What's that mean?"

"Give me the keys to the jeep," she requested. Her professional, near lofty tone had returned, though Gwyn could sense it was a mask. Something to cover her frustrations, her gripes with the situation.

Owen darted his eyes between both women, and then nodded his head. He rooted around in his pocket before he extracted the mentioned keys, which he then tossed towards Claire. She snatched them out of the air with ease.

"Can you––" Owen started.

Claire raised a hand sharply. "I can find my way back perfectly fine." She turned towards the thicket of grass they'd exited the jungle from, but paused and stared Gwyn down. It was an arresting look, perhaps the sharpest she'd ever angled at the paleontologist. "Bring them back safe."

Gwyn nodded soberly. "Yes, ma'am."

There was a tense moment before Claire squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and strutted back the way they had come. The jeep wasn't far back. Their footsteps from before were imprinted in the soft dirt, so they provided a good guide. Claire tromped through the tall grass, sleeves falling back down her arms as they swung. Gwyn watched her disappear into the foliage, which quivered as it was batted aside and shouldered through. She might have expected the tension in the air to have lessened, or disappear completely. But it didn't. If anything, it tightened her muscles more, made the air feel a little heavier.

"C'mon," urged Owen. "We've gotta find a way down that doesn't involve jumping. It'll be like taking a stroll through the woods… sixty-five million years ago."

After one last moment staring at where Claire had disappeared, Gwyn turned back around. Owen was watching her with an unreadable look; but his rifle was braced against his hip, pointing towards the jungle. An invitation to lead the way. Gwyn rolled her shoulders back, which resulted in a couple of pops from her stiff spine. A puff of bracing breath left her mouth. She picked a spot in the treeline that seemed as good as any, and started walking towards it. But as she walked, Gwyn passed a monstrously large footprint. One left behind by the beast they were tracking, one that was restless, relentless, and certainly would have no qualms in crushing them underfoot.

OOOO

Time seemed irrelevant in the jungle. It always had. Minutes felt like hours, hours felt like years. Yet, simultaneously, time simply didn't seem to exist. It was a hot, humid, sweaty purgatory. It was exhausting. Even to Owen, who didn't have the qualms that Gwyn did with the jungle landscape. Sweat had started to drip into his eyes stingingly, his shirt was sticking to his skin. Despite the fact that they'd probably only been walking for ten or so minutes, it felt like they'd been hiking for hours. He and Gwyn had been moving mostly in silence, only communicating when there was an out of place root or rock. Their quietness was born out of necessity; they had to keep their ears open and their eyes peeled. But walking in silence was tension inducing. It made every little sound seem like a threat. A falling branch sounded like thunder. A pause in the bird song seemed like a death sentence.

That quiet, however, also gave Owen a chance to ponder the situation he'd been thrust into––that they'd all been thrust into. Twenty-four hours prior, something like this had just been a story; something out of the pages of Alan Grant's book, or memories recounted by Gwyn. There had always been an eventuality that it would happen again. There was always a calculated chance. But now that the chance was real, Owen couldn't stop thinking about how bizarre it was.

And how much more bizarre it must be for Gwyn.

Owen cast a glance at her, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. Since they'd entered the jungle, Gwyn had tried to keep her expression neutral. Tried not to let anyone see how much the whole situation was weighing down on her. And that mask was starting to slip. Her shoulders had started to slouch. Her mouth was tense. Her eyes were haunted––and that was, perhaps, what twisted Owen's gut the most. He knew that look. He'd seen it in his own eyes, in the eyes of his military comrades. Gwyn was on high alert, not just for physical threats, but for non-physical ones, too. She was hunting for ghosts, memories that crawled beneath the fern fronds, lurked behind tree trunks, rustled in the canopy. Every step that they made through the jungle carried her further into her personal hell; and she opted to keep going for the good of others.

"You're probably sick of me asking, but I'm gonna ask anyway," Owen said as a prelude. He shouldered his gun and hopped over a fallen tree with ease. When he looked back at Gwyn, she eyed the tree with a disgruntled twist of her lips. He raised his brows gently. "How are you?"

Gwyn swung a leg over the mossy tree, and then allowed herself a moment to sit. She swept a hand over the back of her neck. That hand was then flicked out and rubbed against the leg of her shorts. "Sweaty."

"How're you holding up?" he clarified.

"I know what you meant…" she sighed. Her hands slipped through her hair, which was damp at the roots, and tangling at the ends. Gwyn looked up at Owen and offered a little shrug. "I'm holding up. If you wanna know what my nightmares look like," she looped a finger through the air, "this is it. So, right now, especially given the circumstances, I kinda feel like I'm trapped inside my head." She threw her shoulders into a shrug, tired and unsure.

Owen was quiet for a moment, but he then nodded, with as much understanding as he could have. He was damn sure that if he was ever dropped back in a landscape that resembled where he'd served overseas, he'd feel the same way. Gwyn swung her other leg over the mossy tree trunk and pushed herself to her feet. She brushed bracken off the insides of her thighs, which had stuck to her sweaty skin.

"When all this is over, we'll get a nice cold beer," Owen reassured, tone light. He wanted to try and redirect her thoughts, if even for a moment.

Gwyn stared down at the jungle floor, lips twisted and brows furrowed. But that look was only there for a beat, before she pulled as much of a smile across her face as she could. It didn't reach her eyes, but he could tell she was trying not to be too cynical about the situation.

"And maybe a back massage, mine is killing me," she drawled. She arched her back and winced as it popped. Owen couldn't help the roguish smirk that appeared on his face, the way his brows quirked.

"That could be arranged."

"I dunno," Gwyn drawled. Though tired, a bit of a tease could be heard in her voice. She gestured at his hands. "I've seen how you use paleontology tools, I don't know if I want those near my back."

"You said I was heavy handed––that could come in handy with a massage."

"We'll see." It was always to have a nice little reprieve from the craziness, but it couldn't last for long, they both knew that. Gwyn jerked her chin forward, at the invisible path ahead of them. "C'mon, we should keep moving."

And so they continued on their trek, eyes peeled for any sign of the boys, ears open for the damning sound of the Indominus. But the more they walked, the more Owen could practically feel Gwyn tense. The quiet was getting to her. She was jumping at more sounds. And the silence, undoubtedly, was allowing her to stay trapped inside her head, in her memories.

"So," Owen ventured. "What did you say?" he asked. His voice was low, likely to be careful of being too loud. The question was vague, but it had caught Gwyn's attention. She turned her attention away from a thicket of trees that would have been an excellent hiding spot.

"Say when?"

"To Claire. She's not one to give up easily."

This was a fact that Owen knew very well. In the handful of short encounters they'd had after their disastrous date, Claire made it perfectly clear she didn't quit. She would do everything in her power to plant her feet, dig in her heels, and keep standing. Such was why he'd been so surprised when, after only a few hushed minutes of talking, Gwyn had gotten her to agree to return to the resort. His curiosity was real, and it gave something for the paleontologist to fixate on.

"I uh, told her she'd be better off at the resort," Gwyn revealed.

A graceless snort ripped through Owen's nose. He twisted his head around to display his expression of disbelief, brows arched lips parted.

"And she agreed?"

"Well, no. She conceded." Gwyn tossed her hands up a little and shrugged. "Told her that there was more she could do back at the resort. Our office is out here, hers is in there. Said that she wasn't any good to her nephews dead."

Owen's brows jumped a little, and his head ticked to the side in consideration. His shoulder jerked with something caught between a laugh and a snort. "And I thought I was playing hard ball."

"Hey, earlier she told me to be blunt," she defended.

"If it works, it works." He shrugged. After a moment, he added, "You're also not wrong."

Gwyn started to rub at the back of her neck. She then swept her hand upwards to gather up her hair, and held it away from her sweaty skin. "I basically signed her permission slip to get in on this, Owen. If she'd kept on… if something happened to her…" Her lips screwed downwards at the corners. "That'd be on me, and I can't have that on my conscience."

There was a sharp twist in Owen's chest as he realized that Gwyn was taking the weight of the world onto her shoulders. It pained him to think that she was allowing herself to take the blame for what was happening. And not just for potentially endangering Claire, but for the Indominus' escape, too. Before he could respond, however, a sound rumbled between the trees––it was the puttering of an engine.

"Is that…?" Gwyn muttered, pointing in the direction the sound came from. Owen nodded as the engine revved loudly. It was close by. Her brows furrowed as she turned in a slow circle, scanning the surrounding areas. The trees were huddled in thickets, vines and ferns making everything seem like a wall of green. Gwyn shook her head. "But there's no service road this deep in the jungle, the only roads this far out were…" Her stomach cramped up. She stumbled a step forward and grabbed two fistfulls of Owen's shirt. His head whipped around and Gwyn raised her brows in giddy realization. "The visitor's center."

Afterword: Ha-ha, this chapter gave me so many issues that I'm ending it here so I can get a fresh start on the next one! I… say that a lot of chapters give me trouble, but this one was really awful. I had to scratch a lot of ideas I'd originally had for this chapter in order to make it work––including having Claire along for the rest of the search, like in the movie canon. Which is why she was invited along last chapter, and so suddenly (and weirdly) asked to leave this chapter. But I'm hoping next chapter will be kinder to me, as the action will actually, finally kick off next time. I was also in some really bad spots, personally, while I wrote the majority of this chapter, hence why it's so… angsty.

We'll do better next week, as my roommates and I say.

Review Replies!

NicoleR85: Thank you so much! I've battled time and time again with how Gwyn fairs throughout the film, and as we can see, it's a rollercoaster. This was the chapter of 'oh dear god, why did I do this to myself' for her. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

MsRosePetal: And as we can see, Claire agreeing to listen last chapter happily came into play with the edits I had to make! She's listening to Gwyn's advice, finally. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

AugustRrush: Thank you so much! Hope you enjoyed the new installment!

Makokam: These past two chapters have been rough going for me. They very much feel like segues, as did the scenes in the film. There are shorter scenes that I feel I can skip, and there are some that I focus on because I, personally, think they're integral for one reason or another. I also have felt a bit of writer's block with this sort of… transitional part of the film where they're still gearing up for everything to really go down.

Also, the reason the gun crash course was so short, is because there's another scene I have planned where that's more of a focus. And I wholeheartedly agree that the story of JW is one of being unprepared when one thought that they were prepared for everything. That was, ultimately, their downfall. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Momochan77: We have another, unintentional, transition chapter; if I'd known this is how it would've been, I'd have just tagged this chapter onto the end of the other. But, I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! Thanks again!
monkeybaby: I hope that you're excited to see things ramp up next time! Thanks again!

Guest 1: I apologize for the excessive swearing; but I try not to use it unless I think the last chapter was really swear heavy because it was a lot of Gwyn trying to process what was going down. I also, as a person, have a tendency to swear like a sailor, so sometimes that just bleeds in. I'll try and keep mindful of it in case it goes overboard! But I'm glad you've been enjoying the story! Thanks again!

Guest 2: I think that there's going to continue to be a lot of 'I've got your back' moments, be they verbal or otherwise. Because both Owen and Gwyn are goin' through some shit and it's always important to know that someone is there for you. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

AmericanNidiot: Wu is… I probably demonize him, but he's just… he gets my goat. Always has, always will. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter; thanks again!

WaywardandWanderlust: Another wee chapter with lots packed in; hopefully the next will be longer and more interesting! Thanks again; hope you enjoyed the chapter!
NoVacanyMind: I always like to find little moments like the bathroom scene for characters to have. Because it allows a depth in character to develop. 'Cause Gwyn isn't tromping through this story as the one going 'I will do what's right'––she's terrified, she's angry. She's having to choose to put on a brave face rather than running. And I really wish that movie canon dealt with Owen's Navy days more, so I want to explore that more in the future. I'm really happy that you've been enjoying the story and the format! Thank you again, so much!

The Jagdpanther: There are some Gwyn/Dino moments coming up, don't you worry! Hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Angel JJK: Thank you! Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

ScarletSea: I'm happy you enjoyed binge-reading the story; here's a new chapter! Thanks again!

paulavara140: I was working on this chapter for literal months, sporadically. It proved to be one tough little bugger and I finally just… shoved the last piece in today. I've got plenty of time to kill whatwith quarantine being a thing, so I'll hopefully get more chapters up soon. Hope you enjoyed the new chapter!
EnJay: Thank you––here's an update!

Rebecca Rivera: I'm so glad that you enjoy my stories! I hope 2020 isn't beating you to crap like it's done with me. But I'm finding solace in my writing now that I actually and finally have time to do so. Thank you for the late valentine's wishes, as well; I hope you enjoyed the new chapter! Thanks again!

And thank you to those that added this to follows/favorites; it means a lot!

I promise the next chapter will be better. I really do. I've got the rest of the movie planned, and none of those areas are giving me difficulty; so hopefully once the ball is rolling, it'll keep on going.

I hope all of you are doing well, and are staying safe and healthy!

Thanks again!

~Mary