Author's Note: Hello again! Let me just say I was so surprised to see the response to my return. THANK YOU all so much for coming back around to this piece; I know it is such slow going and that I'm horrible for not having this finished three years ago, but I am still having a blast writing it and making it my own story. And another huge THANK YOU to everyone leaving encouraging remarks, and offering suggestions - you all are fabulous!

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Chapter Forty-Three

Had the room not been jammed with people all sweating, anxious, and complaining, it may have been a decent time for Alan to tell Dr. Ellie Sattler that he'd been happy to see her. However, all Alan could truly focus on was the fact that, somewhere roaming around the park was a loose carnivore, which had already killed one man. He could almost feel the thought tremors begin to snake up his arms, but he clamped his hand around his wrist as if it would stay the reaction. Behind him, someone was shouting at a park attendant about an explanation, and for a moment Alan thought Ellie was staring at him.

Marianne had ended her call with them shortly after he'd heard Owen's outburst, promising to find them as soon as they retrieved Owen's niece. Given the information they'd already witnessed during the phone call, they'd be too late anyway. InGen already had a presence on the island, which meant they were already into the research that was to change the course of their understanding of dinosaurs for the foreseeable future.

It really wouldn't matter all that much anyway; if InGen contracted the raptor research for the military, the entire study would be handed over to military intelligence, and paleontological speculation and development would all but cease behind bolted doors. Alan couldn't even begin to spectate just how wrong the entire idea was – it was too staggering; painful to think about after so much time spent trying to forget and cope. He was still trying to piece together what he was actually doing on the island, much less thinking about the repercussions.

He should've never let Marianne leave Montana and drag herself here to this god-forsaken island. It had been nothing but a disaster since she'd arrived – first beginning with Owen Grady and her infatuation with him, and then the lying about the raptors, as well as her confrontations with Wu, Masrani, and this Claire Dearing woman. He should've forced her to stay in Montana; convinced her better, or at the very least sat her down and explained it to her, again. Maybe he hadn't done it well enough throughout her years working beside him. She'd always been stubborn, but, she wasn't a fool. Had he done something different, maybe no one would be in this mess.

"…Alan?" Ellie jerked him from his internal reverie, putting a gentle hand on his arm as she looked around the establishment, which looked to be the inside of a repair hangar for vehicles and larger craft, given that many vehicles were marked with service numbers, though it was entirely spotless and wouldn't have been the top guess for many people.

Jarred from his thoughts, Alan looked to her. Ellie's eyes were slightly dilated, her face was flushed, and she had that hollow look of suppressed fear and recognition that wasn't at all unlike his own. Deep trauma had scarred the both of them from ever hoping to forget the aura of this place, and it was making a comeback, even now in the safety of the world's best technology, and the presence of others. They both had so much to lose now – Ellie had children and a family life; he had his work and Marianne.

There was far more at stake than there had been twenty years previous, when they'd been younger and more ambitious.

"Huh?" Alan nodded carefully, as if it would transport him back thirty seconds to having heard what Ellie had asked him previously. Instead, he clapped his hand over top hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She shuffled in a few steps closer, as a man in a brightly-colored tropical shirt stepped back in the throng of bodies.

She responded almost immediately, a slight wrinkle in her brow. "I asked you if Marianne had some kind of plan with what to do about the research," Alan looked around the room, before gently taking her by the arm and managing to lead her through the muttering crowds of anxious guests. Many were chattering amid themselves, while others hurried to try and contact loved ones; the overhead speaker system now silent in the aftermath of shuffling patrons.

As Alan glanced around, he couldn't help but notice the uneasiness painted on the faces of those around him. The atmosphere of the room was nothing outside of grim and uneasy - and, Alan could find no blame for any of them in his own judgements. After all, the incident of Hammond's first park had been well known for years now; having been the subject of dissected study by business analysts, scientists, and mega corporations for two decades. Everyone had been vying to know what had gone wrong with Hammond's park, so they themselves could quash the problem. And, it seems Masrani and InGen and done just that, with Wu's research going deeper and farther with added measures than it had with Hammond. Sure, the lay of the land had changed, but the overall undertone of uncertainty remained: this place was as unpredictable as it had been twenty-odd years ago; new paint had just finished it off.

He spotted the edge of the crowd, and jerked Ellie up a few inches closer to him, gripping her hand tightly in his own, just as he had years before, stumbling through the jungle while trying to stay a step ahead of blood-thirsty tightens. He couldn't help but feel the same way - instead, those titans were blood-sucking corporate professionals, with a billion dollar asset running around and ripping things - and people - apart.

Glancing over his shoulder at Ellie, he responded hesitantly. "If she doesn't, I'm sure that Owen character does. We'll meet up with them as soon as they find the little girl."

As they reached the edge of the crowd and Alan released her hand, Ellie's face paled into that same expression of terror that hadn't been so far from memory. Alan couldn't help but notice that she looked practically the same as she had twenty years ago; her face just sported a few extra wrinkles, and her hair was lighter with a bit of gray. However, her eyes certainly had changed - they were wise, while still so afraid, and he had the sinking feeling that they both felt the same way about this situation, despite their efforts of keeping up a good face.

Actually, it was painfully clear on peoples faces as they looked back at the crowd, suddenly relieved from the press of bodies and the crushing weight of sympathy: these people have been sold a lie, and they'd bought it wholeheartedly. Many bore the dread that came with uncertainty, while others wore their thoughts on their faces; that something wasn't right, and that something was so familiar about all of this hushed secrecy. And yet, on the faces of employees and other seasoned individuals, the shadow of global pain was evident.

Jurassic Park was on everyone's mind.

It had fallen silent in the Gyrosphere as Zach pondered the conversation with his brother - which was really saying something about him as a person, because he never really paid much mind to anything Gray ever said. Mixed between dinosaur psychobabble and genius, and add the fact that he was the original idea for a pesky little brother, there was really nothing more to be said or done about the situation, other than Gray was destined to plague him with annoyance, and Zach would be forever subject to the boy's...attachment.

Especially if their folks split - it brought a sinking feeling to his gut, knowing that it could happen and sever their family, or what was left of their unit. They hadn't been much of a family since Gray had been born and they'd moved for their dad's job. Other things had started occupying his time outside of his family after the promotion, and those other things had left a significant mark on their mother's confidence, if not her psyche altogether. Their unit had slowly been falling apart for years.

Zach couldn't bear the thought of not only their family being separated, but also what it would do his relationship with Gray. If his parents divorced, they'd be sentence to bopping around to different households and hearing different sides to every story the rest of their lives - Gray would be under his shadow indefinitely, then. He'd be subject to his brother's clingy nature as the only stable thing in his life, and he'd be the responsible figure. Gone would be the irresponsible years he longed for as an independent teen; they'd be lost under the crushing weight of firstborn responsibility. He would be thrust into adulthood, and forced to make the sound decisions of stability not only for himself, but for Gray.

Suddenly, Gray nudged him in the shoulder, a bit roughly. Zach jumped in his seat and released the gear-stick, looking over at Gray with an entirely blank expression on his face. However, his brother didn't look back up at him - instead, his eyes were glued to the monitor inside the Gyrosphere, watching as Jimmy Fallon explained that they had technical difficulties, and that the spheres were to be taken back to the ramp immediately. Around them, the open field sat quietly, the throng of dinosaurs downwind a few hundred yards.

They'd been running along side them in the sphere so elegantly that it had felt like a dream. While Zach had been busy navigating the ball, he'd noticed his little brother's face, and how it had seemed to completely forget their previous argument in light of the thundering animals outside their world of civilization. Gray had always been obsessed with dinosaurs, and he'd always wanted to come to the park - he'd spoken of nothing else for the past handful of years, and now that they were here, within a breath of the beasts outside their ball, his brother had looked completely fulfilled. They had shared moments of laughter while looking through the reinforced plexiglass, while exchanging favorites with Gray spouting off information of almost every animal out there; including the Latin classifications. He hadn't remembered having so much fun with Gray in a long time.

When the message cut, Gray looked over to him. "So...I guess we should head back?"

The disappointment radiated off of Gray in waves, so much so that it hit Zach right in the gut. He watched his brother slump back into the seat, crossing his arms over his chest while position to glance out the window and rest his head against the plexiglass. In the distance, the towering neck of a Brachiosaurus raised in the sky, well above the swell of gathered animals at the treeline. Even contained within the ride, their noise was audible, as was the slight trembling of the earth. Zach looked from them, to Gray, and finally to the darkened monitor before he frowned.

Gripping the gear-stick, he shrugged and pushed the stick forward, the ball lurching forward with a high, electric whine. When he navigated towards the treeline off in the distance beside the animals, Gray perked up slightly and whipped looks between him and the dinosaurs, before frowning at Zach entirely; corners of his eyes bunching like they always did when Gray was about throw a fit.

"What are you doing? It said we should go back," Gray insisted, gesturing to the monitor with placating hands. While upset, he was attempting to be the voice of reason, which Zach could understand. Claire would be furious at them for ignoring a park directive, but, Zach didn't really all that much care about what their aunt was or was not - she hadn't so much as shared a full conversation with them in two weeks, much less make an effort to actually lecture them.

At the thought of her, Zach hadn't realized he'd pushed the sphere to its max speed, and they were now, once again, weaving through the throng of gathered animals. They towered over their small ball like skyscrapers; looking ancient and serene as they lumbered about, grazing and congregating with their own"The way I see it, Claire owes us for being a terrible aunt all summer," he sat back a bit roughly, and adjusted the strap by his shoulder. Then, flicking the pass wrapped around his neck, he grinned at Gray.

"It doesn't even really matter. We're VIP - exempt from normal rules." The confidence in his voice belied the anxiety he knew would follow his suggestion - Claire was going to kill him for being irresponsible, just like she'd screamed at them after they'd gone with Owen to the raptor paddock. Despite her anger and concern, she hadn't done so much as put any limitations on them, besides the mandatory arrival to dinner and curfew of 10 p.m.

Gray seemed to consider his suggestion further, and looked down at his own plastic pass, running his finger around the edge of the rectangle before looking up through the sphere's clear roof, the neck of the Brachiosaur high above them in the sky, slightly blocking the sun. His smile was wide when movement caught his attention from his right, where a Gallimimus was lumbering by with its partner, heads ducked to consider the grass, despite the scrutiny of the nearby members of a different species.

"Ok. Just a little bit longer, then we go back."

Zach smiled at him, and nodded his consent.

The clinic building was cold and depressing, and Sophie really hated the smell. The doctors and nurses had taken her away from Nick, Marianne's friend, who had promised to watch over her at the clinic until her uncle could come and take care of her. As soon as they'd gotten to the clinic though, they'd taken him away quickly, insisting that since he wasn't a blood-relative, he couldn't stay as the doctors began to make sure she was okay.

She didn't - wouldn't - say anything. She was too cold, and stiff, and sore - her head hurt really bad, like it did when she needed to go to sleep, though the nurse told her she couldn't sleep and had to stay awake. They'd given her some awful medicine at the clinic, and had her laying in a hospital bed that smelled like bleach and fabric, and wasn't very comfortable. Outside, she could see the sky, which was a brilliant blue, and she could hear the loudspeakers telling everyone to seek shelter and find safety.

A tear escaped her eye, running down the side of her face in a cool stream to plop silently onto the pillow. The doctor's had taken her dirty clothes off and had cleaned her up in a shower. She had stitches in her forehead, and cuts with cruises all over her arms and body. When they'd asked her repeatedly what had happened, she hadn't said anything to anyone; too tired, afraid, hungry, and lonely to make sense of the questions. They'd finally given up after she'd asked to see her uncle once, and refused to say anything else; instead focused on locating any trace of Owen Grady on the island, in the throng of loudspeakers and white-noise.

She was too scared to close her eyes - every time she did, she heard the monster roaring, and could see down its throat. Sophie could still smell the death of its breath and hear the rumbling of the earth, followed by the vibrations lacing through the Jeep as the animal roared and thrashed them around. Her world continued to spin, just like the Jeep falling through the air. She felt like the dinosaur was watching her every move, waiting for the perfect moment to gobble her up, watching for its moment to torment her further.

Being alone in the clinic didn't help. She was shaking and trembling in a cold sweat again, gripping the blanket with white knuckles and pulling it up to her chin. Sophie didn't know if she liked dinosaurs anymore - at least, she didn't like the real ones. They weren't anything like the books said they were - they were mean, unpredictable, and scary. Sure, the plant-eating ones were alright, but, after the Jeep incident with Marianne, Sophie wasn't sure she liked big dinosaurs, or any kind of dinosaur at all. She wanted to cry; she wanted Owen to be there, holding her tight and telling her everything was going to be fine. She wanted her mom, and her dad - she wanted to go home.

She curled herself on her side, watching the window with her back turned towards the door of the clinic room. Outside of her small room, she could here doctors and nurses trying to calm down people asking loud questions, and hustling around like her mom did when she was late for work. It was loud and hurting her head, and really Sophie didn't want anyone to see her cry, so she got up out of bed and padded towards the door, intent to close it quietly without being noticed.

However, when she got to the door, she noticed the two familiar figures leaning over the clinic's counter, frantically talking to the receptionist. Her heart sprang alive in her chest, hope reignited in her soul as a a smile plastered onto her face. Suddenly she felt warm, and safe, and happy, and she burst out of the room, dodging around a nurse carrying a box of supplies, and came around the corner of the desk so quickly she almost gave the receptionist whiplash.

"Uncle Owen, Uncle Owen! You're here!" The receptionist was standing and calling for a doctor, while Owen and Marianne stopped mid-speech to consider the bolt of energy rush around the front desk and come to a halting stop, sliding across the floor in socked feet. She gently bumped into Marianne's leg, and held onto it tightly, burying her face into the woman's mid-section.

Owen didn't hesitate - he dropped to his knees, grabbed her away from Marianne's midsection, and wrapped her in the tightest hug that Sophie had ever received in her whole life. She wrapped her small arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly, his big arms enveloping her entire body. After a few moments of thanking God that she was alive, he shuffled her back, touched a hand to her cheek lovingly, and surveyed her.

She noticed that his nose was red, and his eyes were filling up with tears. "You're okay, huh, Little Bug? They took care of your injuries?" When she nodded "yes", his attention went to her forehead, where he focused on the three stitches that were lime green, as she'd requested. Looking up at Marianne, then back to her, Owen took her in another hug, this time resting his chin on top of her head and swaying back and forth with her.

"I'm so glad you're ok, Soph. I'm sorry I wasn't here." His voice was quiet, and she could feel the bump in his neck vibrating against her forehead as she pressed in tighter for another hug. Sophie closed her eyes in his embrace, nodding her understanding, suddenly so happy and feeling much safer knowing that he was right here ready to protect her and take her out of the clinic. "But I'm here now. You're sure you feel ok?"

She nodded continually, but within moments, Marianne had crouched beside them, one arm draped over her uncle's shoulder, the other gripping Sophie's shoulder tightly. When Sophie opened her eyes and saw that Marianne was crying, she pulled away from Owen and moved to stand directly in front of the woman, who reached up and brushed away her tears with her fingers. Sophie noticed that her hand was wrapped up, and that the gash on her head was still fresh, but mostly had stopped bleeding. She was still dirty, and in her torn up clothes - but, she'd pulled her hair into a messy side braid, and she was wearing contacts now.

Marianne grabbed Sophie's arm gently, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Sophie, I'm sorry -" she looked away and sniffled heavily, then hung her head before covering her face with her hands. She started crying really hard, before she looked up at the girl again and shook her head. "I shouldn't have ever taken you with...I'm so sorry. You could've been hurt - or, or...oh God, I'm so glad you're ok." With nothing more than sniffles and more mumbling apologies, Marianne touched Sophie's cheek with her bandaged hand, her head canted to the side as if she an observant dog.

Sophie didn't know why Marianne would be sorry, so she furrowed her brow in confusion. "It's okay, Marianne," she said with a quick shrug of her shoulder, "you don't have to cry." With that, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Marianne's neck, squeezing tightly as if it would make her problems go away. Her mom always said that a big huge helps big problems, and Sophie thought there couldn't be problem much bigger than almost getting eaten by a dinosaur.

Marianne shuffled her backwards and touched her cheek again. Sophie noticed that her cuts were still oozing and icky, though her hand was bandaged, despite the red stain on her palm. Sophie turned back to her uncle, who stood now, and went over to stand before him. He stooped, swung her up into his arms, and she pointed towards her hospital room.

"I've been in there," she said confidently, Owen nodding his understanding. He and Marianne walked her back into the room, and her uncle sat her on the bed carefully, touching her hair softly and brushing it over her shoulder. Shed' been given a hospital dress, and her old clothes had been taken away, though she'd insisted on keeping her pack with her favorite reference book, camera, and notepad. It hung loosely over the headboard, beside the bedside stand.

Marianne looked around the room, then to the whiteboard on the wall across from them, which read Sophie's name. The doctors and nurses had been checking it since she'd gotten her, and it had big words she didn't know how to say, as well as a bunch of numbers. All she knew was her name, and her birthday on the board, and Marianne considered it before she turned quickly around to face them.

"I'm going to go see if I can find the doctor," she responded quietly, reaching up to run her fingers through her unkempt hair, which was now hanging in a low braid over her shoulder, "I'll be back." Smiling at them, she watched momentarily as Sophie fell into her uncle's side, intent for a secure snuggle. Only after he'd lifted his arm to welcome her farther did Marianne retreat from the room, looking down the hallway.

Sophie was so glad to see her uncle that her sadness and fear melted away almost immediately as he sat on the bed beside her, holding her tightly. It didn't matter that there was a monster outside, or that it had tried to eat her and Marianne and had broken out of its home - her uncle was here, and he could do anything. He could make the monster go away, and keep them all safe. She had thought at one point that her daddy was able to chase the monsters out of her closet, but when he'd gone away, she'd realized that it was really uncles who did all that stuff - and Owen did it better than her dad had, too.

She thought about the monster again, its dark eyes staring at her through the window of the Jeep. She had been so wicked looking; like something out of a nightmare. Actually she reminded her a bit of the villain from Sleeping Beauty, with a skinny nose and face, especially when the wicked lady had turned into a dragon. If only that dinosaur had wings, it wouldn't have been that different from the fairy tale dragon at all! She knew that at Jurassic World many of the dinosaurs were born, but she'd heard that this dinosaur was designed - while she didn't fully know what that meant, she wondered why anyone would create such a mean and angry looking dinosaur at all.

Especially one that could get out of their home. That didn't seem right - dinosaurs weren't supposed to break out of their paddocks. And, if that dinosaur had demolished their Jeep so easily, Sophie didn't know what would happen if the dinosaur came into contact with more people, or bigger buildings - she knew from reading that many dinosaurs responded to situations with hostility, to protect themselves. But this wasn't like any other carnivore, or dinosaur for that matter. She didn't know what it would do - it hadn't been in any of the books.

That thought in mind, she looked up to Owen and wrapped her small arms around him, resting her cheek against his ribcage. She could hear his heartbeat evenly thrum within his chest, and she could feel each breath that he took into his lungs. He felt warm and safe, and she felt so much better knowing that he was there with her, and that Marianne was here too. The other man, Nick, had been nice enough, but she didn't know him like she knew her uncle, and it made her better knowing he was going to talk to the doctor and know where she was.

She watched the door, anticipating Marianne's return, though her eyelids were getting really heavy and hard to keep open. "Uncle Owen," she said quietly, her voice sounding small. Her shoulders were hurting in her back, and she felt hungry and tired, like she could sleep forever. Owen rubbed her shoulders lightly, like her dad used to, and moved to lift her onto his lap, supporting her with one arm as she looked up to him.

He gave her a confident half smile. "Yeah, Soph?"

Nestling up against his chest again, she ignored the horrible smell of car and sweat that was coming from his clothes. Instead, she wrapped her arm around him halfway, as if letting him know she didn't want him to leave, just without words. Sighing deeply, she closed her eyes for a minute and then adjusted positions, releasing a heavy yawn.

She sniffled, then sneezed lightly. Rubbing her nose with the back of her hand, she looked up at him again, and sank lower into the crook of his arm. "What's going to happen to everyone now that the dinosaur isn't in her home?" Her voice was still small, reminding her of a mouse, and she waited for his reply. Her stomach started rumbling, and her eyes were sore, so she reached up to rub them with the back of her hands.

Owen stared down at her, as if he was thinking for a reply. Finally, he stood, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his middle, him looking at her with the same look her mom gave her when she didn't know what to say that would make sense or not hurt Sophie's feelings. She swallowed and her throat suddenly hurt and was dry, like she needed water, until he released a slow sigh and shrugged a shoulder.

"I don't really know, Soph," he responded quietly, tipping his head forward to touch foreheads with her gentle. He locked his eyes with hers, smiled crookedly, and heaved another heavy sigh, one that she could feel in her belly as she rested against his chest. "We're working really hard to make sure everyone is safe, ok?"

Sophie nodded. "Is Marianne going to leave again?"

Owen hesitated, before shrugging a shoulder and wrinkling his nose. "Between you and me," he whispered deeply, "I don't think so."

With that, they shared a smile, and he rubbed noses with her gently, his mustache and beard tickling her chin and her cheeks and making her giggle. She rested her head on his shoulder, letting her arms flop to her sides, and she gazed out the window as Owen sat back on the bed, holding her closely and breathing steadily. Her eyes began to droop, and she released a slow breath like she did when she was tired and going to sleep, and she felt the pain in her shoulders go away slowly as she sank farther into her uncle's chest, content.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Sophie bolted upright, looking towards the door. It was Marianne, who had returned with the doctor, and a nurse who was rolling a cart that looked like the one another nurse had used to clean up Sophie's cut. The doctor gestured for Marianne to seat herself in the chair by the door, and he nodded to the nurse to begin cleaning her cuts, the nurse nodding her understanding and beginning to unwrap the bandage on Marianne's hand.

The doctor approached them, Owen helping Sophie off his lap. He stood, and offered his hand to the man in the white robe, whom she remembered as Dr. Jake. She remembered his name because he looked like Thor, and he'd been very nice to her - he gave her a sticker and a sucker, which were securely tucked away in her pack. She sat on the bed, watching as the man shook hands with Owen.

"You must be Owen Grady, Sophie's uncle. She'd mentioned she had family on the island." He looked down to Sophie, smiled at her, and crouched at the beside to sit eye-level with her. His accent was strange, and she'd never heard one before, but his eyes twinkled and he had a white smile that was really pretty. He had been nice, and she liked him, despite being afraid without her uncle before. "How's it going, my dear? Feeling better?"

She nodded slowly, scooching across the bed to Owen. She reached up to take his hand carefully, keeping her eyes locked on the doctor. "Yeah," she eeked out quietly, looking over his shoulder to Marianne and the nurse, who was working to clean the cut on her palm. Marianne's face was pinchy and red, and she was wincing, but trying not to look like it hurt.

Quickly seeing her friend in pain, Sophie slipped off the bed and rushed over to Marianne, gripping the side of her chair and reaching for her good hand, watching the bloody water drain into a bowl the nurse held beneath Marianne's hand. Her friend was pinned against the back of the chair, looking tired and in pain with little dots of sweat on her forehead. Sophie knew what she looked like - her Mom had looked a lot worse, but with the same expression, when her little sister had been born.

Sophie laced her fingers through Marianne and offered her a half smile. "You can squeeze my hand if you want," she said confidently, watching the nurse work carefully. The nurse's face broken into a smile, and Marianne released a snort through her nose, a smile cracking onto her face as she released Sophie's hand to brush aside her hair from her face.

"Thanks," she said quietly, "you're feeling ok though, Sophie?"

She nodded. "Mhm. Much better now that you and Uncle Owen are here."

Marianne smiled at her again, before Owen came up behind her to observe the situation. Dr. Jake followed, standing on the other side of the nurse, observing the situation as the nurse continued draining saline into the wound. Owen gestured to the doctor, and Marianne sat upright in the chair, taking Sophie's hand again. Owen cleared his throat, and shifted his weight on his feet.

"Dr. Coborn says she's fine," Owen concluded, "some cuts and bruises but nothing too serious. The shock didn't set in long enough for them to treat it; bounced back pretty quick I guess." He ruffled Sophie's hair with his fingers, and Marianne smiled at her softly, before looking back up to him. "She's cleared as soon as we want to take her."

The doctor nodded to Marianne. "I see no reason to keep you here - we're putting the hospital on Real World Lockdown, so we can treat our patients without an influx of guests coming in. Hospital policy." He gestured between them. "I can have security escort you back to the resort, where they are settling patrons inside, just as soon as we get you some stitches in, Miss Randal."

Owen and Marianne exchanged a look, before Owen shrugged. "An escort won't be necessary, Doc. We've got orders to check the perimeters and bring in any guests around the park." He nodded to Sophie, "I've got someone at the resort who can stay with my niece, but, the sooner we get back to work, the better."

Sophie's face fell into a disapproving frown, her forehead wrinkling tightly. Whatever her uncle was saying, she didn't like it - she didn't want him to go away, and she certainly didn't want to stay at the resort with Nick or anyone outside of these two people. She looked to Marianne, frowning, and opened her mouth to protest with a "But I -"

Marianne shook her head, patted her hand, and pressed a finger to her lips, signaling Sophie to be quiet. "It's okay," she whispered into her ear, "shhh." She diverted her eyes to the doctor as the nurse turned to write in a chart, and Sophie understood as Marianne sat back and patted her knee, gesturing for Sophie to climb up and sit. Of course, she did, and Marianne wrapped her arms around her as the doctor rolled a stool out in front of Marianne, snapped on some gloves, and looked to Owen with a shrug.

"I suppose then," he gestured for Marianne's hand, first. "We'll get you back to work as soon as possible, Mr. Grady. If you please, Miss Randal. By the looks of things, it's about four stitches you'll have to keep wrapped." He eyed the wound, pressing around it carefully. "Nothing appears damaged internally, and if you aren't feeling numbness, no nerves were struck. It doesn't appear you touched an arteries either."

With that, he set to work, and within fifteen minutes he had her hand stitched. Sophie watched him methodically begin working on the gash on Marianne's forehead, now reserved to standing beside the chair off of her lap. Owen was standing behind her, hands on her shoulders and watching intently, until the cell phone in his pocket buzzed, and he fished it out to look at the screen.

"It's Claire," he furrowed his brow, accepting the call. "Claire?"

Marianne watched carefully, trying not to move as Dr. Jake worked the needling through the cut, Marianne unmoving as if she didn't feel anything. Owen was pacing now, across to the window, and paused to whip around and give them both a look of absurdity, uncertainty, and slight upset. He closed his eyes, holding the phone away from his ear, the sounds of the woman on the other end muffled, but loud.

Sophie gulped again, this time her tongue feeling heavy along her teeth. The pain between her shoulders returned as she watched Owen nod continually, gesture with his hands as if the caller could see him, and then end the call quickly. Slipping the phone into his butt pocket, he approached the bed, and gathered Sophie's pack, slinging it over his shoulders.

Marianne frowned at him. Sophie didn't like the wrinkle in his brow, or the look of determination set in his jaw. He looked this way whenever he was mad, and Sophie didn't like when he was mad - she'd seen it a couple of times, most of them here at the park, and she didn't like him like this at all. She liked the happy Owen, the one that made her laugh and liked milkshakes and called her "Little Bug", not this grumpy giant.

Marianne dared to ask, "What's wrong?"

He heaved a very heavy breath, a dash of red appearing on his nose and blossoming onto his cheeks. He raked his fingers through his hair, Sophie noticing the dirt and sand dropping to the floor from his head as he combed his fingers through it. He was filthy, sweaty, and by the looks of things, very unhappy. "It's Claire," he let his head drop back and he closed his eyes, "her nephews never made it in. She thinks they're on a Gyrosphere, since one is unaccounted for."

Marianne didn't respond immediately. Dr. Jake had stopped his work, and exchanged glances with the two adults as Owen gestured for Sophie to come with a crooked finger. She obliged immediately, him scooping her up to balance her on his hip, Marianne now sitting more upright in the chair than she ever had. Her fingers dug into the arm of the chair, and she glanced at the doctor, who had pulled away with a scissor-looking tool, needle, and bloody gloves still raised.

"If you're done, Doctor?" she raised a brow, like Sophie's mom did when she wanted an answer.

He nodded. "Of course," and scooted back from her, Marianne popping to stand almost too quickly. Thanking him, she gathered her things and joined Owen at the door, her eyes searching his own for any kind of answer. Sophie glanced between them, before Owen looked back to the doctor.

Dr. Jake added, "Are you sure you don't need any kind of security escort, Mr. Grady? I can spare a guard for you, just to make sure you and your group arrive to the resort alright. It's a bit of a mess out there," he jerked a bloody, gloved thumb over his shoulder, as if the people he was talking about where behind him instead of down in the actual park outside the clinic.

Owen shook his head. "No, but thanks, Doc." He guided Marianne out the door, then turned back to the doctor. "But, if I were you, I'd set up for emergency as much as you can. Things aren't pretty out there."

His brow furrowed. "Emergency? What do you mean?"

Owen snorted, rolled his eyes, and stepped out of the door of the room Sophie had previously occupied. "You might want to get a call into the Control Center, if you haven't already figured out what's going on."

He looked confused. "I beg your pardon?"

Sophie blinked at him, wrapping an arm around her uncle's neck. "There's a dinosaur loose, Dr. Jake," she said confidently, her chin raised. "But we're working extra hard to make sure everyone is safe." When Owen and Marianne looked at her, and then shared a look with one another that seemed as if they were trying not to laugh, they ultimately focused their attention on the doctor, who's mouth was hanging open at her statement.

"She's not wrong," Owen pointed a finger at him. "Keep everyone here, Doc, and make sure this building is locked down tight. Pull everyone out from the windows, and make sure all your rigs and outbound units are pulled in. We're at Real World One."

"What? You can't be serious!"

Seeing they were getting nowhere, Owen took Sophie and started making their way towards the elevator, the doctor following them to the reception desk, still looking dumbfounded. Sophie stared at him as he watched them go, until he turned away to begin rapid discussion with the receptionist, who didn't hesitate to reach for the phone, punch in some numbers, and ultimately hand him the phone.

Sophie waved at them until the elevator door closed. Her uncle and Marianne began discussing going back to his bungalow, getting everyone a change of clothes, and meeting up with someone named Dr. Grant. He ultimately shifted her off his hip to stand on the ground, and took her hand securely. She looked up at him, and then reached for Marianne's hand, which was to her left, and held onto it as well.

"It's coming, isn't it?" was all she said, as she watched the buttons light up as the elevator carriage moved down steadily. Looking up to them, she held their attention for a moment, and then looked to one another again. Sophie then realized she didn't need an answer, because what she'd asked had been true - it made her stomach hurt, like it did when during the first day of school, or when she had to jump off the high dive in swimming lessons.

She suddenly wanted to go home very, very badly.