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.
37. Homeward Bound
An airplane hangar on Costa Rica's mainland had been converted into an emergency triage center for the Jurassic World survivors. People were organized in neat rows, but that didn't stop the panicked milling in the aisles. Families who were separated in the chaos sought each other out. Doctors moved from patient to patient, seeing to injuries and administering aid. People came in search of their family and friends who had been on the island. Volunteer workers wandered around handing out water bottles. There was a constant buzz and chatter to the space––crying, groaning, shushing, talking. It was like a scene out of a disaster film; and it only emphasized how much of a true disaster everything that just happened had been.
Gwyn sat hunched over with an elbow braced against her knee, and a palm pressed to her forehead. A water bottle dangled from her other hand, which hung limply between her parted knees. Both her eyes were shut in a feeble attempt to get some kind of rest. They'd gotten off Isla Nublar as daylight crested over its mountains, sailing away on the last boat. They'd all been awake for over twenty-four hours at this point, and the exhaustion had settled over them. Gwyn knew rest wouldn't come for her, not with the noise and the humidity. Zach sat beside her, quietly taking in the people around them. Behind them sat Claire, who sat wrapped in a blanket, stroking her fingers through Gray's hair. He'd laid down with his head in her lap, staring listlessly up into the hangar rafters.
They'd been sitting there in exhausted silence for so long. None of them had really said anything since they'd arrived. Perhaps that it was because it didn't feel like there was much to say. Without a doubt, the boys and Claire were likely coming to terms with their new reality. With what they'd just lived through, what they had survived, where they now were. And Gwyn sat lamenting the fact that any of it had to happen again. But wallowing was draining. It exhausted her more than just sitting there, grasping weakly for sleep. So she lifted her head and twisted it to glance over her shoulder.
"Hey," she murmured to Claire. Said woman, still stroking her nephew's hair, cut her attention to Gwyn. "How're you holding up?"
Claire briefly looked back down at Gray, lips pursing in thought. When she looked back up, her shoulders rose and fell in a little shrug. "I don't know," she admitted quietly. Gwyn nodded in understanding; it had taken her a full week to really, fully realize what had happened to her the first time around. "I feel…" Claire paused and let out a shaky breath, "responsible."
Gwyn twisted around a little, now sitting astride the corner of the cot they'd been given. The now former manager of park operations was hiding her face. With her chin ducked, locks of red hair obscured her face from view. There was a soft sniff, an attempt at reigning in tears. Gwyn looked down at her hands, twisted her water bottle around in thought.
"Y'know… of all the people in charge of that park, you were the best," she eventually said. From the corner of her eye, she saw Claire turn to look at her; so she turned to meet her eyes. "You listened. You tried. Were you a hardass sometimes? Yeah." The statement was blunt, but light. It was enough to get Claire smiling a little bit, laughing quietly under her breath. With the corner of her mouth quirked up, Gwyn arched an eyebrow at her. "But that's because you took your job seriously. I'm the same way. I… think we're a little more alike than we think."
The light that her earlier comment had inspired in Claire's eyes faded away. The heaviness returned to her expression. "You wouldn't have let this happen."
Gwyn affixed her with a look––serious and firm. "You didn't let this happen. It wasn't you that… blatantly ignored the warning signs. You listened, you worried. You tried." She nodded out at the people amassed around them. "A good quarter of these people are here because the first thing that you did when you got back to the resort was enact Real World Phase Three. You started to organize a rescue effort; all the boys at the paddock were talking about it when we got there." She leaned sideways and nudged Claire with her shoulder. "This isn't on you. This has just… been a long time coming."
The two women shared a long, quiet look. Claire's eyes had glassed over a little, and her shoulders had slumped in the beginning signs of relief. She smiled at Gwyn, a silent gesture of thanks. And she nodded in return. She looked away, then, turning her eyes back into the traumatized mass of people around them. But, suddenly, there was a little gasp from Claire. It was enough for Gwyn's back to go ram-rod straight, twisting around to see what was wrong. After the day they'd had, her heart was throbbing in her chest at the slightest worry of trouble. The other woman's eyes had blown wide as she looked between the two boys. Beside Gwyn, Zach had also tensed, his fingers balling into fists over his knees.
"Oh, my god, it's your parents," she breathed. Gray immediately sat up, lifting his head out of her lap. "It's your parents!" Claire was on her feet in mere seconds, urging her nephews to stand up.
Gwyn's shoulders relaxed upon realizing that there wasn't any danger. She craned her head around and who must have been the boys' parents. A man and woman wove towards them urgently, tears streaking their faces, which were contorted in exhausted relief. Gray immediately threw himself into his mother's arms, while their father pulled Zach into the tightest hug. A smile tugged at the corner of Gwyn's mouth at the reunion, but it felt intrusive to include herself in such a moment. So she rose to her feet, intending to move away and give them their privacy. Her knees, scraped up, bruised, and scabbing over, protested the movement. Her feet throbbed as Gwyn settled her weight on them again. As a result, the moment she was on her feet, she doubled over with a pained hiss.
"Gwyn!"
She straightened up and turned around just in time for Gray to come knocking into her. His arms wrapped around her tightly, and despite how small he was, he very well might have been the thing keeping her standing. Gwyn chuckled under her breath and wrapped her uninjured arm around his shoulders.
"Hey, kid," she greeted. She arched an eyebrow down at him, though he didn't see it. "Shouldn't you be hugging your parents?"
"I wanted to say thank you," Gray responded. He pulled away and smiled up at her, eyes teary.
The brow that Gwyn had arched lowered. She smiled at Gray fondly, seeing reflections of her dear friend Tim Murphy shining in his eyes. She saw an excitement that couldn't be tempered or dampened. A passion that would carry him through the tough times to come. It made her own eyes go a bit glassy, too.
"Don't mention it." Then, with her smile going crooked, she reached up to pinch his chin gently between her fingers. She eyes the cut that marred his skin, curving over his chin in an inflamed streak. "Looks like you might be coming out of this with a scar."
Gray, who seemed unperturbed by the idea, arched his eyebrows hopefully. "Will it be… badass… like yours?" he asked, hesitantly and quietly uttering the word 'badass.' Gwyn grinned and nodded, ruffling his hair.
"Just as badass," she agreed. In response, Gray grinned. She let go of his chin and mussed his hair a second time. He then snagged Gwyn's hand in his own and started to pull on it.
"C'mon, you should meet my parents," he urged.
Gwyn let out an intelligent 'umm' and pulled a face. "I… don't know about that. This is sort of a… moment for your family, I don't feel right intruding. You should get back over there. They were probably scared out of their minds for you."
Gray stood there quietly for a moment, fussing with his hands. Then he looked up at gwyn, a pinch settling between his eyebrows. "Will I ever see you again?"
"Well, if you're ever in Montana, swing by the Museum of the Rockies and say hello," she told him with a smile. His face fell, disappointed. Gwyn glanced over at the rest of his family and pursed her lips. "Tell you what." She looked back at Gray, who perked up a little bit. "Ask your mom if it's okay if your Aunt Claire gives you and your brother my phone number."
"Really?"
"Yeah. It helps to talk. And it's always nice to know that there are people in your corner who've been through what you've been through. If she says it's okay, then you can shoot me a text or a call anytime you want," she promised. Gray beamed, but his eyes teared up again. That smile turned into a frown quickly, and he hugged her again, sniffling to himself. Gwyn hugged him fully this time, frowning down at the top of his head. It made her heart ache to know what he'd been through; and what he was going to go through. "You're a brave kid, Gray. You've got this."
When he drew away and wiped his eyes, Gwyn gently nudged him back towards his family. With a small, residual smile on her face, she turned to walk away, only to be stopped again. This time, it was a hand gently tapping her shoulder. When she turned, she found Zach standing there, hands shoved into his pockets, arms held tight to his body.
"Hey, he started, a little awkwardly. "I just, uh… wanted to say thanks. You know, for saving our lives."
Gwyn smiled and arched her eyebrows pointedly. "Well, thank you for saving mine," she commended. "I would have been a goner if you hadn't hit that dimorphodon."
Hesitation flashed over Zach's face, briefly, and his arms twitched at his sides. He pulled both hands from his pockets, rubbed his fingers together anxiously. Tentatively, Gwyn reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. She smiled gently and drew him in for a hug; his arms shot forward to wrap around her.
"Thank you…" he repeated in a whisper, voice breaking a little bit.
"Don't mention it," she replied. She let the hug last for as long as Zach wanted it too. Because she'd seen it in his eyes back at the paddock––he'd been putting on a strong face for his little brother. He'd spent twenty-some hours harshly suppressing every fearful reaction for Gray's sake. This was his moment to let it all go. And when he finally stepped back from the hug, he kept his head ducked, sniffling quietly to himself. "Hey." Zach glanced at her through the hair that had fallen into his eyes, chin still ducked. "You're a good big brother. But it's okay to let him know you're scared, too. He looks up to you, that's why he gives you such a hard time."
A smile suddenly appeared on Zach's face. He righted his head a little, took the sleeve of his shirt, and wiped it against his cheeks. "Yeah?" he asked, sheepishly almost.
Gwyn, with a smile, nodded. "Yeah. Take it easy, okay? I'm only a call away if you need anything."
Zach nodded and his hands migrated back into his pockets. "Thanks. Again." He smiled at her, genuinely, and turned away. But instead of returning to his mom or dad––he stopped beside Claire, whom he said something to before they shared a hug.
Watching the reunion stirred something in her chest. One hand rose to press against the scar that sliced across it, fingers dancing along the ribbon of soft flesh. Gwyn thought of her father, of how manic he likely was. She frowned and tucked her chin downwards, staring down at her scraped knees and muddy shoes. She wondered if he was back home, pacing in front of the tv, waiting for a phone call. If he'd called Ellie. With eyes falling shut, Gwyn recalled being huddled in her father's arms, bleeding and half-conscious. Thought of the panic in his voice as he spoke to her. The thought that she'd, again, subjected him to such fear twisted her heart.
She really should find a phone to call him.
When Gwyn looked up, she cleared her throat and blinked away the stinging in her eyes. Across the room, she spotted Owen. Despite his exhaustion, he'd been too restless to sit still. So he'd offered to help do the rounds and make sure people were getting what they needed. He was talking quietly to an older gentleman, a kind, comforting hand resting on his shoulder. And when he looked up, by happenstance, their eyes met. The corner of his mouth lifted a little; and she lifted her hand off her chest to silently greet him. After a moment of prolonged eye-contact, Gwyn started to weave her way towards him. Her steps were small and carefully calculated, the stiffness in her knees vastly uncomfortable. But she didn't have to worry about walking too far––because he was moving to meet her half way.
They met one another in the wide, mostly empty aisle in the middle of the hangar. Owen's brows furrowed as he reached out to place a hand on her left arm. His thumb swept over a smear of dried blood, which had leaked out from under his careful bandage work.
"You haven't gotten this checked out yet?" he asked.
Gwyn glanced down at the bandaging. There was a large splotch of blood in the middle of it, darkened by its time spent drying. The bandages were smeared in dirt, too, and starting to come loose. The wounds ached, but, for the most part, she'd come to ignore the pain. So she shrugged dismissively and glanced around the room. There were people with splinted legs and arms, with blood staining their faces, with I.V.s in their arms.
"There are people here worse off than me," she murmured sadly.
"You need stitches," Owen reminded pointedly. Worriedly.
"I'll get them," she promised. "I… I know I'm gonna be okay, I just wanna make sure everyone else is."
There was a brief pause before Owen smiled. He reached out, took her hands, and drew her into his chest. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and her eyes fell shut. When his arms wrapped around her, Gwyn melted into his embrace; it was the first one that they'd gotten to share since the whole ordeal ended. She wound her arms around his middle, huddling herself as close to him as possible. Being in his arms after all the hell they'd gone through, was like stepping into an air conditioned room on a hot day. It was an utter relief. A reminder that he was okay, that she was okay.
"You've got one hell of a heart of gold, Gwyn Grant…" he murmured into her hair.
Gwyn smiled into his chest. "You're one to talk, Mister Grady."
They were both quiet for a moment, just enjoying one another's embrace. But Gwyn could start to feel Owen grow a little fidgety in her arms. She loosened her hold on him, just a bit, and leaned back enough to catch his eyes questioningly. A furrow had formed between his brows, and a frown tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Were you… did you really think you weren't making it out of there?" Owen asked. When her head ticked to the side, silently questioning 'when,' he pursed his lips. He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, as he seemed to recall the moment he was referring to. "When you tripped in front of the Indominus. When I saw you kneeling there, I…" He mashed his lips together, nostrils flaring, eyes threatening to go glassy again.
With a slow inhale, Gwyn diverted her eyes. She stared at one of the buttons on his shirt, which had gone a bit loose on its threads during the fray. One of her hands slipped up along his chest to play with that button for a moment. She nodded, not looking up.
"Yeah. I did." She looked up, then, her hand resting flat over his heart. "That was the third time I'd ever really thought I was going to die. God, the third time…" She shook her head at the absurdity of the situation. "And, uh… I'm really glad I didn't." She scoffed quietly to herself; but it was a melancholy sound. "I owe my life to Echo…"
There was a beat, and then––a chuckle from Owen. Gwyn's brows pinched a little as she took in the partial rise to his mouth. "You sound sad," he pointed out.
"I am sad, of course I'm sad," Gwyn shot back, brows furrowing sharply.
"Why?"
"Why?" Her lips twisted into a frown, and she stared at him like he'd gone insane. "I… she… I'm… not gonna see her again."
Owen's expression was melancholy––eyes sad, but a faint smile playing at his lips. "It's just… nine months ago you wouldn't have looked so bereaved that you couldn't see her again."
Gwyn's shoulders rose and fell, thoughts turning to the four velociraptors that she'd had the chance––the honor, she supposed––to observe. To get to know. Thought of how their attitudes towards her had changed; how, by the end of it, they'd treated her as part of their pack. How special that was, how rare it probably was. Her heart ached for the permanent loss of Delta and Charlie. And she was more than a little surprised at how upset she was that she wouldn't get to see Blue and Echo again.
"I guess that the Girls grew on me." There was a pause, before she held up a strict finger, and her voice dipped into a deadpan. "But only those four; every other velociraptor that has ever come for me can screw off."
Owen beamed down at her, a hand rising to clasp her cheek. His thumb rubbed at something––probably a smudge of dirt––gently. Her lips tipped into a gentle smile, head listing into his palm. Their foreheads came to rest together, and their eyes fell shut. Smiles faded as, silently, they soaked in the other's presence. As, for the first time since they were off Isla Nublar, they were reassured that they were there for one another. That they'd marched through hell, come out the other side, and still had each other.
"C'mon," Owen murmured. "Let's get that arm looked at."
Gwyn clucked her tongue, eyes still shut. "That ruined the moment."
"Sorry," he apologized, a smile in his voice. "Let me make up for it."
And just as their lips barely brushed together––a familiar voice had them turning their heads towards the hangar door.
"Hey, you can't stop me from coming in here," proclaimed the powerful voice of Alan Grant. Gwyn's mouth dropped open, gaping at her father. He looked rumpled, even from a distance, and was speaking to a man with a clipboard. "My daughter is in there––you have to look up a name? Grant. Gwyn Fiona Grant, there's the whole of of it, now can I please––"
"Dad?" Gwyn called in disbelief. Alan's head whipped around towards the sound of her voice. Her hands dropped away from around Owen, who chuckled gently under his breath. She started to move towards her father, who had brushed past the guard without waiting for permission.
Before she knew it, he was jogging towards her, and she was already tearing up. It felt, to Gwyn, like Alan being there was some exhaustion induced illusion. But when their bodies collided––that thought shattered. The very moment that Alan had his arms around her, she burst into tears. Her arms curled around his neck, and her face dropped into his shoulder. Her knees went weak and he was the only thing keeping her standing. He squeezed her to him tightly, like she'd disappear if he let her go. It was then he lifted her off her feet for a moment, before he settled her back down gently. His body shuddered against hers, wracked with sobs that he could no longer suppress. It was heartbreaking to hear him cry like that––Gwyn had never heard him cry like that.
"Oh, thank god…" Alan cried. One hand found the back of her head and cradled it against his shoulder. He smelled like home––like stale coffee grounds and cotton. Turned his head and kissed her sweaty, dirty temple. And then he did it three more desperate times.
"How're you here!?" Gwyn sobbed into his shoulder. The words were muffled in the fabric of his plaid shirt, so she lifted her head and rested her chin on his shoulder. She held him tighter, not realizing just how much she'd needed this. "How're you here?"
"You leave me a text like that, let me see the news and think I won't come down to get you?" he asked tearfully. He held her tighter for a moment before he took a step back. Both hands jumped up to clasp her face, as though making sure that she was still there. It was the first time that Gwyn got a good look at him. His hair was a rumpled mess, his eyes were red from crying and lack of sleep, and his clothes were creased from time spent traveling. His eyes traveled over her from head to toe and his face crumpled, tears falling from the corners of his eyes. "My god, look at you…"
Gwyn knew she looked like a mess. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her skin was both dirty and littered with scrapes and scratches. The abrasions on her knees were inflamed. But what Alan's eyes lingered on was the bloody bandaging, and the other three still visible claw marks on her left arm. His hands started to flutter around, almost touching but then not touching different injuries. A hand flew to his mouth as he took in the state his beloved daughter was in. His expression contorted upon realizing there was nowhere on her arms he could touch without hurting her. He started to shake his head muttering things like 'what even… how did…' Gwyn squeezed his arms and offered a watery smile.
"I'm okay… I promise, Dad. I'm okay," she said, voice breaking. Alan's mouth twisted into a violent frown and tears welled up in his eyes again. She tried to smile again, but it wouldn't happen. It didn't work. "I'm… I… I'm sorry."
"No, no, no, sweetheart…" Alan pulled her into his arms again, just as tightly, but not as desperately. His hand smoothed over her knotted hair in a soothing gesture. "It's not your fault… Understand?" Gwyn sniffled into his shoulder, but made no indication she'd heard him. "Hear me? It's not your fault, none of this. All that matters is that you're here. That you're safe. Okay?" This time, she nodded. And as she raised her head, stepped out of the embrace a little, she nodded again, murmured a 'yeah.' Alan's hands rose to her flushed cheeks and his thumbs swiped away tears lovingly. "All that matters is I have my little dirt fairy back again."
A laugh suddenly bubbled from Gwyn's mouth, but it ended in a little, stuttered hiccup. Alan smiled at her gently before his eyes migrated to something over her shoulder. His expression dropped, and dropped suddenly. His hands fell from her face to her shoulders. The change in his demeanor was jarring. With a questioning look, Gwyn glanced over her own shoulder––and found that her father was staring at Owen; who had been watching the reunion with a gentle look on his face. Her head whipped back around and, with a sniff, she leveled him with a look.
"Dad," she drawled lowly. A warning. But Alan was already stepping around her, sights set. Gwyn had seen this look leveled at too many unsuspecting paleontologists to let whatever was about to happen slide.
"You," he stated pointedly. He was making a beeline for Owen, who didn't look perturbed at the man's approach––or was very good at hiding that he was. He stood at the ready, like a soldier about to undergo inspection.
"Dad!" Gwyn tried again, following after him. It looked like he was starting down a war path with the ferocity with which he walked. And it was a speed she couldn't match, not with her throbbing, blistered feet, and banged up knees. She had no idea what he could possibly be on about, what issue he could have with Owen in this very moment. But whatever it was, it could wait––because they were all exhausted, drained, and emotionally compromised.
"You said you'd look after her." The tone of his voice was borderline accusatory. It was sharp and unignorable. He came to a stop in front of Owen, who said nothing in his own defense. He just nodded, confirming what it was that had been said. Gwyn, who'd just reached out for her father's shoulder, stopped. Alan had offered him his hand. She watched as Owen accepted the handshake; and then gaped as her father pulled Owen into a one-armed hug, their hands trapped between them. "Thank you."
Owen, who looked just as surprised as she felt, was slow to clasp an arm around the other man's back. But when he did, he clapped Alan's shoulder gently. He nodded, eyes meeting Gwyn's––and the corner of his mouth rose into a partial smile.
"Of course, Dr. Grant," he replied.
Gwyn stood stunned for a moment. Dr. Alan Grant didn't give out hugs easily. They weren't something he doled out when he was in a good mood. To her knowledge, the only people that her father hugged were herself and Ellie. The fact that he was willingly embracing Owen––someone he'd only met once and only spent a handful of hours with––was remarkable. It made Gwyn feel like she had entered some sort of strange reality. Beyond that shock, a part of her was quietly pleased. Because Alan had seemed so-so in his opinion of Owen; and this was a hopeful glimpse that 'so-so' would become 'okay,' and from 'okay' to something better. But, more than anything, Gwyn was simply relieved that there would be no heated words. No arguing. No Grant lecture. It was the last thing that anyone needed after the time that they'd had.
When Alan stepped back from the embrace, he clapped Owen on the shoulder firmly. Both men nodded to one another, as though in some kind of new found solidarity. It was a touching moment––but still one that had Gwyn shaking her head to herself. Alan turned back towards her, and his eyes sadly scanned over her from head-to-toe. With the corner of her mouth lifting briefly, she placed a hand on Alan's arm.
"I'm okay," she said, more evenly than before. She tilted her head to the side with a candid expression. "I'm not good, but I'm okay. And, yeah…" she looked over at Owen and smiled gently, "he's one of the reasons I'm okay."
The responding smile from Owen was the softest that he'd ever given her. It melted her exhausted, anxious heart, and reminded her that better things were to come. And the relief of that threatened to bring tears to her eyes. For the first time in hours, all of the tension in Gwyn's body had disappeared. There was nothing to be running from. Nothing biting at their heels. All of that had been left behind.
"Well, you're not really gonna be okay till you get that arm looked at," Alan drawled. "Let's get you a medic."
As their search for the medic started, Gwyn couldn't help but survey the room for the hundredth time. She saw haunted stares, trembling children, bloody bandages. Twenty-four hours ago, the pool of people that she could talk to about what she'd gone through had been small. Only a handful of people truly understood the horrors of what it had been like to be at Jurassic Park. Be at the mercy of things much bigger, and much more powerful than themselves. But now there were hundreds of people who could empathize with her. Hundreds more stories like her own. The world of Isla Nublar and Isla Sorna survivors used to be so very small; and in the span of a day, it had grown larger.
And that was a true tragedy.
OOOO
Miami International Airport, Florida
The coffee in Gwyn's hand was some of the shittiest airport coffee she'd ever had; but god did it taste like liquid gold. She'd slept the whole two hour flight from Costa Rica, head slumped against Owen's shoulder. But now, struck with suffering through a two hour lay-over, she needed all the caffeine she could get to keep her awake. Because while she had another hour or so to wait till she was homeward bound for Montana––Owen had ten minutes till he boarded a plane for California.
It hadn't struck them prior to booking their flights that, outside of the isolated confines of Isla Nublar, they lived over a thousand miles away from each other. Gwyn had roots firmly planted in Bozeman. Owen's parents lived in Sacramento where he'd grown up, and where he stayed in the interim between his time in the navy and working at Jurassic World. So it was to those respective places that both of them were to return to.
When they'd landed in Miami, it was late afternoon. The two of them, and Alan, had gotten lunch at an in-airport restaurant; it was a short, unexciting lunch as neither Owen or Gwyn had retained much of an appetite. Afterwards, Alan left them to 'have a moment,' and assured his daughter he'd be waiting at their gate for her. Their 'moment' was going to be more of a discussion. Of just what the hell they were going to do. Their relationship was still relatively new. They'd not even considered the possibility that it would have to go long distance––at least not this soon. There was an unspoken fear––in both of them––that the other would ask to put it all on hold. Till things settled down, till they could figure out what to do. But neither of them asked to. Instead, what Owen did ask was,
"There's a time difference, isn't there?" He had a hand resting on her calves, which were splayed across his lap. Her scraped-to-hell knees had been hurting from all the time cramped up on the plane, so he'd pulled them over his own so she could stretch her legs out. The hand not occupied by a coffee was running a slow, repetitive path across her calf.
"Montana's an hour ahead, yeah," Gwyn confirmed. Her elbow was propped up on the back of the bench of seats, her hand propping her head up. She watched as Owen's brows quirked interestedly at the newly garnered information. He started to nod, and shifted his gaze to meet hers.
"That's not bad," he admitted. A smile started to spill across his face. And it was infectious because Gwyn, too, started to smile.
"Not bad at all," she agreed.
Owen's smile waned into something more thoughtful. His hand stopped moving over her leg, and instead his thumb tapped against her skin gently. "I, uh… I don't know what the long term plan is for me," he said. "The only place I've really got in Sacramento is this… trailer I bought once I was out of the navy. It's parked in front of my parents' place. I don't see myself living there for terribly long, if I can't help it."
It seemed that thoughtfulness was making its rounds, because Gwyn was struck with a wave of it, too. She looked down at her lap, fingers picking at the hem of Alan's button down. He'd leant to her so she didn't have to travel in her blood-smeared tank top. It was long enough to hide the smears of it on her shorts, too. Gwyn snapped a loose thread off the bottom hem and shrugged her shoulders. There was an offer on the tip of her tongue. One that she'd wanted to make the minute Owen verbally realized he'd be going back to California. She had a guest room back in Bozeman, so rarely used it doubled as a home office. But it wasn't practical to just offer him a room in her house––at least, that was what the rational side of her brain had told her. It seemed too soon, too early. It was too soon, wasn't it? Alan would certainly think so. But the idea of Owen being so far away twisted her stomach uncomfortably tight.
"Y'know… I've, uh… if you find yourself wanting to visit the Treasure State… I've got a spare room and a good view of the mountains," Gwyn offered. That seemed more practical: offering a place for him to stay if he wanted to visit. That made more sense. Didn't it? Yet, somehow, asking it wracked her nerves just as much as the other offer would have.
When Gwyn raised her eyes with an almost nervous flick of them, she found that Owen was smiling at her. Gently, softly, appreciatively. And something else, something in his eyes that she couldn't quite put her finger on.
"I might just have to do that," he said. He started to nod slowly, face pinching in playful contemplation. "Isn't Montana known for gold deposits in those mountains you mentioned? I wouldn't mind some treasure hunting."
Gwyn snorted and rolled her eyes at his purposefully blasé tone.
"Yeah, you'd be a regular Indiana Jones," she deadpanned.
Owen's eyes, which had wandered off in faux-thoughtfulness at his potential fortune in gold, smoothly switched their attention to her. His hand slipped up along her calf, and stopped just below her knee. His thumb tenderly brushed over a bruised spot of skin. "Gold is good and all… but there's a pretty neat paleontologist I'd rather visit."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah, I think you might know her."
"Well, I'll have to ask her what her schedule looks like," she teased.
"Attention passengers, the five o'clock flight to Sacramento will be boarding shortly," the subdued, but still cheery, voice crackled over the intercom.
All of the playfulness of their conversation melted away quickly. Reality rushed back in quickly, smacking them both across the face with a sharp crack. Simultaneously, both of them looked away from one another, Gwyn over at the gate, Owen down at his lap and her legs. She heard him take a deep breath, and people started rising to get themselves sorted. The hand that had been so gently resting on her leg squeezed firmly.
"Should you, uh…" Gwyn awkwardly gestured at the gate with her thumb. At the people already forming lines to try and get the best chance of being at the head of their boarding groups.
"Uh, yeah. Yeah. Guess so."
With a short hiss of discomfort, Gwyn shifted her legs off of his lap. Her knees protested with an ache and a dull burn as they bent. Owen offered a hand to help her to her feet; which she didn't really need, but she accepted it anyway. And once she was standing, he kept his hand firmly clasped around hers, let them hang between them as they walked towards the gate. They'd sat a little further off, away from the crowds, which had started to make the two of them anxious. They walked shoulder-to-shoulder, hands shifting to entwine their fingers together. Gwyn found herself wishing that the gate was on the other side of the airport; that they had a longer distance to walk, more time with one another.
When they reached the gathering crowd, there was only a beat before Owen wrapped her in his arms. Gwyn dropped her head to his chest, ear pressed to the spot over his heart. She listened to the dull thump of its beating, muffled by fabric, skin, and muscle. Listened to the sound of his breathing. Both her arms looped around his torso, squeezing him as tight as she dared. Quietly, she reveled in the feeling of him. The way his arms felt around her, the rise and fall of his chest, how his head listed against hers. Because this was the last time, for however long, that she'd be able to feel any of it.
The call for boarding crackled over the intercom, and a simultaneous sigh was pulled from both their chests. Owen pulled away just enough to be able to press his forehead against Gwyn's. His eyes were scrunched shut, his brows were furrowed, and there was a terrible frown marring his lips. One of his hands had risen to firmly clasp her cheek, his thumb heavily swiping across the length of her cheekbone. Gwyn's eyes fell closed, and her own mouth started to twist into a frown.
"Once you replace your phone, give me a call," he said hushedly. She nodded, their foreheads remaining pressed together.
"I will," she promised.
It was then that their lips crashed together. This kiss was nothing like the ones they'd shared at the paddock. This one was born of a desperate need to be as close as they possibly could. Owen had shifted his hand to the back of her neck, fingers tangling into her already knotted hair. Gwyn's hands jumped to cradle either side of his face, the scruff of his facial hair scratching her palms. The kiss had grown into something not particularly suitable for an airport terminal. Their lips moved against each other with a passion that made passerbys avert their eyes. Owen had shuffled her closer by curling an arm around her waist, fingers fisting the fabric of her father's button down. It was the kind of kiss that had Gwyn's heart pounding in her chest, one that she never wanted to end.
But it did have to end, because, firstly, they were in public––and secondly, the plane was boarding. When the kiss ended, Gwyn let one hand slip from Owen's cheek to rest over his heart.
"I'll call," she reiterated, voice taking on a telling tremble.
"I know you will," he acknowledged. Owen craned his head forward and pressed his lips against her forehead; and then he kissed it again. His hands rose to grasp both of hers––on his cheek and over his heart––and reluctantly pulled them away. With his eyes squeezing shut, he kissed her knuckles. "And you can call me for anything."
A smile, wholly bittersweet, split across Gwyn's face. "I know I can. Brachiosaur's the word, right?"
A gentle laugh tumbled from Owen's mouth and he nodded. He looked up from their hands, which let her see how glassy his eyes had become. A glassiness that was surely reflected in her own.
"Yeah, it is." The call for boarding group four came over the intercom, and Owen let out a little sigh. "That's me. I'll, uh… I'll talk to you soon." Gwyn braced herself for a 'goodbye,' which surely would tear at her heartstrings. Owen was quiet for a long moment before he nodded, almost militaristically. "I'll see you soon."
Gwyn nodded, grinned briefly, and then bit back a frown. "See you soon."
That was their goodbye––a promise.
She waited by the gate, watching as Owen joined the line with just a ticket in hand. No carry-on baggage, a reminder that everything of his had been abandoned on the island. Before he disappeared down the bridge, he turned around, found her eyes, and smiled. Gwyn answered with a smile of her own, lifting a hand as a well-wish to send him off. He returned the gesture before he apologized to the man behind him, glanced her way one last time, and disappeared down the bridge.
With arms folded over her chest, Gwyn wove her way back towards her own gate. When Jurassic World had started to collapse, she'd known the kind of fallout to expect. The physical damage, the psychological terror, the legal repercussions. But she hadn't considered the impact that it would have on personal relationships. Barry was going home to France. Lowery was going back to New York. The friendships that she had formed were going to be put to the test. Her and Owen's new relationship was going to be put to the test. It was always the unexpected fallout that was the worst. And the weight of it had already settled on her chest and shoulders. Her whole body felt heavy because of it.
When Gwyn flopped into the seat beside Alan's, she let out a long sigh. She winced and pressed at the flesh over her knees, which both itched and ached. From the corner of her eye, she could see her father watching her, the book that he'd bought in the gift shop flopping closed.
"Is he off?" he asked. Gwyn nodded, sniffed quietly, and leaned back in the seat. With a furrowed brow, she braced a hand over her tired, stinging eyes. An arm appeared around her shoulder, warmly providing a sense of comfort. It was a delicate hold, as not to disturb her injuries. "It's not over."
"What?" Gwyn asked. She flinched at the hoarseness of her voice. She looked over at her father, the corner of whose mouth lifted a little.
"What you and him've got. It's not over," Alan clarified.
A grateful laugh tumbled out of Gwyn's throat. She nodded, blinked back the glassiness in her eyes, and dropped her head to Alan's shoulder. The feeling of his lips pressing to the crown of her head had her closing her eyes. It was then, with her father's arm around her shoulders, and the low murmur of airport ambiance, that Gwyn wholly and fully relaxed. Because it was finally, officially over.
But even as she started to drift off into some semblance of sleep, the memory of a distant roar rattled in the back of her head. A constant, ever present reminder that Isla Nublar would never leave her in peace. Not really.
Afterword: Have y'all ever been on a plane with scraped knees? 'Cause I have, and it's ass.
And so, officially, we've reached the end of film events. There'll probably be a few more chapters before I start a different story for the events leading up to and including Fallen Kingdom. There's just some stuff in this chunk of their story that need to get tied up!
Review Replies!
AlchemyWriter: We got Alan coming to get his little girl! I had an emotional blast writing their reunion. We'll get a Tim reunion, too, at some point, as well as one with Ellie, Ian, and Billy. We've got a couple more chapters of this arc before the next story arc begins. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
MsRosePetal: I think I had Gwyn speak reference to the title, like, ten or fifteen chapters ago. But I thought it was a kinda fun little thing to toss in there as a button. I'm glad that you enjoyed the chapter, and hope you enjoyed this one; thanks again!
NicoleR85: Gwyn speaking to Rexy was simultaneously a pep talk to herself, and a plea to the universe for Rexy to listen somehow. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
RJNorth: When I decided that the chapter was ending at the conclusion of that scene, I was like 'this is a good button for the scene. Someone's gotta say the story title some time.' In retrospect, I'm very happy with how the last chapter came out. I let it sit for a day before I read back over it and was like 'yeah, this is where it needed to be.' I also figured that, if Claire had someone to go in her stead to get Rexy, she'd definitely stay put with her nephews; also, I couldn't give up the parallel of another Grant holding a flare in front of Rexy.
We got Alan in this chapter! And we'll get Ellie and Malcolm sooner than you think. A physical reunion with Tim or Lex might be a bit down the road, but there'll certainly be a phone call. I'm so happy to be back in dialogue land. Especially Gwyn/Owen dialogue, which is just… so much fun to write. They've got good banter and good flirtations. It's good to be done with school, but it's weird to not have anything on my plate at the moment; grad school is probably somewhere down the line for me, too. Also, mad respect for you being a teacher! I come from a family of them. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
Lmv16: That moment with Rexy was a big one for Gwyn. Her interaction with her was kind of the culmination of everything she's ever been through on the island. Everything that ever happened led her to that moment––where she finally accepted that the island is truly part of her, just as she is part of the island. Its legacy. Writing Gwyn's reunion with Alan had me tearing up. If I'd written it in Alan's POV, it would have been absolutely devastating. We're gonna get to see a discussion between father and daughter about everything that happened, which is gonna be oof. I'm really sorry to hear that you'd been having a bad day when I updated––but I'm happy that the update made it better! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
xenocanaan: I find that, through writing this story, I've found the Indominus as more of a tragic character. Prior to this story, I was just like 'big scary dino bent on destroying the world.' But upon closer inspection she is, indeed, tragic. She's the product of neglect, which just hurts my heart. You're actually the first of two people who have inquired about a spin-off story where Ingrid gets seen to properly. And it's something that I'll keep in mind (especially if we don't get JW: Dominion for a hot couple years). I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
TenebrisSagittarius: I couldn't bring myself to let Echo die; as you said, it would've been a slap in the face in regards to how Gwyn has grown. It would have been a way of dismissing her progress, and I couldn't do that. Writing Alan reuniting with Gwyn was… ugh. But I also had an immense amount of fun figuring out how he was going to react to Owen. I figured, he's either gonna just shake his hand, or this is gonna be a big moment for them. I went through my whole college career while writing this story, and that's absolutely insane to me. But it's so fun to see where this story started, and where it's ended up. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
Makokam: Yeah, in hindsight, having Gwyn really directly mimic the way Alan threw the flare would have been an A+ parallel; but in my head, at the time, I was like 'y'know, I think I'd jump out of the way of all those bones flying at me.' There's gonna be discussion going forward about Ingrid, what went wrong, and Gwyn's feelings regarding the whole situation. Because I think that's gonna be one of her biggest takeaways from the fall of JW.
This arc of the story is, indeed coming to a close. I had been contemplating whether or not I was gonna keep updating this file or start a new story. And think, just for the fact that we're probably gonna be ending this arc at chapter 40, I might start a new story. Just so it's not constantly climbing higher and higher and higher. There's a few more chapters left in his chunk of the arc, so the conclusion is coming. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!
AmericanNidiot: Blue's got a buddy, thank god! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
Awa22: We'll get more of Echo and Gwyn's bond eventually; but till then, there will be some discussion regarding it. Alan and Gwyn's reunion was simultaneously heartwarming and heartbreaking, and I'm very excited to be writing Alan more frequently! There's some fun stuff in store for Fallen Kingdom, I do have to say… I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
msbeku1: Just wait till Alan gets a load of Gwyn having to lead Rexy––he's gonna… flip. And the universe really just keeps giving it to them, doesn't it? They lose two of the Girls and now Owen and Gwyn are gonna be 1,257 miles apart. For at least a little bit.
We'll definitely get conversations of Gwyn and Owen and Gwyn and Alan of stuff that happened on the island. Stuff with Ingrid, stuff with the girls, what Hoskins said…
And, actually, on the topic of nightmares/night terrors, there'll be some addressing those in Owen's regard.
Also, Eric is gonna make it in––be it a cut away memory, or a mention. And if it's just a mention, we'll definitely get more of a moment later on. 'Cause there's a smattering of things left in this arc of the story, and it was hard to get a whole moment of Eric in at the moment.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again, and hope you're doing well!
ZabuzasGirl: Echo will be back, eventually, we've just gotta span the time between now and Fallen Kingdom. And thank you for the episode suggestions! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
god of all: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
Boomer1125: You're the second person to mention a spin-off/AU where Gwyn's allowed to look after Ingrid! It's an interesting idea, which I hadn't considered. And it's something I might entertain down the road, especially if JW: Dominion is gonna be a while coming. I've been tangling with the fact that, if I get through Fallen Kingdom before Dominion comes out, I'm… gonna be stuck. 'Cause who knows what the hell type of state that world is supposed to be in prior to Dominion. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
Angel JJK: We got the Alan reunion this chapter (ugh, my heart!), and we'll get to Tim eventually! He'll definitely give a phone call, but he's gonna be busy with the legal side of the aftermath, as his family is involved in a lot of Hammond's businesses and affairs. Gwyn and Owen are hell-bent on staying together, it's just gonna be a bit bumpy to start (we love a long distance relationship). I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
Guest: I'm glad the last chapter was worth the wait! Rexy is a favorite character of mine, so I was very excited to get her back into play for a little bit, and excited for her to reappear in FK! I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!
Raider-K: I took a directing class while I was in school, and my director brain was like 'yes, parallels, this must happen.' Boy, if I was any better at drawing then I actually am, I'd have a painting or something of Gwyn silhouetted with the flare side-by-side of Alan with the flare. I really wanted that last moment with the Girls to be touching. I always find that final action sequences go through a true rollercoaster of emotion; so I'm glad I was able to successfully capture that all!
Also, I cannot tell you how much of a genuine honor it is to hear that you believe I've paid homage to the source material well. I've been working on this story for so long, and it's genuinely flattering to hear that it's become a fully developed story, while also operating in the world it's set in.
I hope that you enjoyed the new chapter; thank you again, so much!
And thank you to those that have added this story to their follows/favorites! It means a lot!
And that's that for now! Next up we'll have Gwyn in Montana and Owen in Cali… and we'll see how that works out for them. I'm really excited to delve into the interim period between the end of JW and FK. I've got lots of stuff planned, and I'm anxious to finally get to it. Anyways, thank you all again! You rock!
~Mary
