These are all drabbles/ficlets (my definition of a drabble is 1000 words or less, but to some it's a hundred) related to the first two games. Most will take place in game, but some may take place out of game. I might start writing about Dino Stalker and Dino Crisis 3 at some point, but as I'm stuck on both, that won't be for a while.

Disclaimer: Dino Crisis 1 and 2 do not belong to me - they belong to Shinji Mikami and Capcom. There is no profit in this work at all; it is derivative, nothing more.

Title: Nightmare
Pairings: None
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 709
Line: "And then all eyes turned towards him/her."
Notes/Summary: Set during the Edward city stage of Dino Crisis 2; I figure that the team spent more than one day on the island, so this is what I thought might have happened when night fell.

"You okay?" someone suddenly asks me. No. No, I'm not. It's a hundred degrees and humid, but I'm freezing – I can't get the memories of Ibis Island out of my head and one of my old claw wounds is itching again. I'm terrified, frankly, and so should you be.

"Fine."

Liar. The guy – shorter than me but built like a tank – narrows his eyes at me and reaches past to grab a shotgun from the rack I'm standing beside.

"You know something?"

No, but I'm sure you're about to tell me.

"If I didn't have a gun, I'd be shit-scared, too."

He walks off, leaving me wondering if the Army teaches them to be that naïve or if it comes naturally.

There's a sudden crackle of vegetation at the other side of the camp, and a scream of horror; I don't want to look - I know what's happened - but I do anyway; dead man, held up by the leg by a six foot tall raptor. It drops him with a bloody squelch and screeches--

"Hey – hey, Regina!"

...That wasn't part of her dream – Regina blinked her eyes open and found herself staring at her own knees. She was sitting against the wall, hunched over – and she was supposed to be keeping guard over the abandoned apartment while David and Dylan slept. She was suddenly wide awake; she straightened up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and allowed Dylan to help her to her feet.

"Sorry," she muttered. She hadn't slept in over twenty four hours – and being expected to stay awake in the clean-ish, empty house in Edward City while others slept around her had been harder than she'd thought. Finally, she had closed her eyes – only for a little while, she'd convinced herself; next thing she knew, she was dreaming about things she didn't want to be dreaming about.

"Don't be; I've been awake about half an hour, no harm done. I was going to leave you alone," He paused, "But you looked like you were having a nightmare or something."

He turned the last part into a question – one that Regina didn't want to answer. She shrugged and started to stretch her still tired muscles. As she looked around the small room – David was sound asleep, leaning against the wall and occasionally muttering to himself – she noticed that Dylan was still looking at her enquiringly.

"You okay?"

She was tempted to just tell him – how she couldn't get the memory out of her head of the attack on the camp. How there was a loud, wet crunch and the dying man screamed. And then all eyes turned toward him. And even as she looked at the soldier who'd only just finished telling her that he wouldn't be scared as long as he had a gun, she could see the blood drain from his face and the sweat bead on his forehead. How only twenty minutes later, that man was dead too. Still holding his gun like a mother holds her baby.

How she didn't even know the man's name, but somehow she thought that she'd never forget him.

"I'm fine – just tired." She attempted a reassuring look, but that just wasn't her at the best of times.

Dylan leaned back on his heels and gave her a look that clearly said 'yeah, right' – Regina glanced away.

"Look, I'm just wound up – it really is nothing important." With that, she left the room; going toward what she thought might be the outside for some fresh air. It was, and standing out on the body-littered street, she gulped in air that was still heavy with blood and death. It was a bitter relief for her that now, she was used to this and hardly noticed it.

The dinosaurs seemed to be diurnal – there hadn't been any activity from them all night, only the occasional compy ran past her, chasing insects.

Suddenly, there was movement behind her – she let out an annoyed puff of breath, knowing exactly who it was.

"I'm not asking, okay?" he said before she could tell him she wasn't talking.

Well, good.

Regina leaned against the wall, staring at nothing, clearing the stuffiness from her head.

Presently, she took a deep breath and spoke.

Title: Déjà Vu
Pairing: None
Rating: R
Word Count: 802
Line: "If that doesn't work, nothing will."
Notes: Don't like this one as much as the last one. Anyway, this is a slight AU, as I'm pretty much certain there's no way all three could have travelled through the jungle area at that point without one having to backtrack for the boat, but… err, I really did want David there.

The jungle area was just as hot, humid and full of raptors as two days ago – and it was just as hard to travel through. Having decided that the coast was probably too dangerous, the three surviving soldiers were moving through the jungle area toward the Missile Silo, literally leaving a trail of broken bodies and empty shells behind them.

Regina was quickly learning, much to her disgust, that David was a huge whinger when things didn't go well. And now, that night in camp, rubbing two sticks together in a futile attempt to start a fire (Regina could have, if he'd asked, told him that a random pile of sticks and one leaf wasn't going to start a fire anytime soon), he was muttering to himself and groaning and huffing and sighing and messing up Regina's concentration.

As for Regina herself, she had a rather nasty gash on her thigh from yet another raptor fight earlier in the day (it had also made some less serious cuts along her legs when it knocked her down and mauled her) and was rolling up her trouser leg to take a look – the cloth was stuck to her leg by coagulated blood and it was hurting like nothing else.

David sighed again, and this time, so did Regina – both at David and her leg.

"There's a Flame Thrower beside you – stop playing fucking Boy Scouts and use it!" she snapped, and David – both blind and stupid, evidently – made a small sound of comprehension.

"Hokay. If that doesn't work, nothing will." He grabbed it out of the pile of discarded guns and fired the thing with more gusto than was necessary, and Regina shielded her now bare, bleeding leg as too-bright flames shot onto the heap of twigs. Eventually, they caught alight and David shoved the thrower back in the pile (making a complete mess - oh, brilliant) and sat down to warm his hands.

Silence. Nothing but insects chirping and dinosaurs cawing far away. The fire would hopefully scare them off for the night, but they would have to have someone staying awake the whole time.

"You think Dylan's okay?" David asked after a long silence. Possibly not, Regina had to admit – going off to a destroyed campsite known to be in raptor territory (but then, what wasn't raptor territory on this island?) just to see if there were any military rations left wasn't a really smart thing to do; David had flat out refused to go anywhere near the place and Regina was in too much pain with her leg.

"You should have gone with him."

And then I wouldn't have to put up with your damned whining.

"Hey – someone needed to start the campfire!"

"Mm-hmm."

Regina busied herself with an electronic pad containing all the files they'd found so far, ignoring her stinging leg – until Dylan got back from the camp (they had no first aid kits and he might be able to bring some along with the food), all she could do was pull up her trouser leg and let the air at it. Hopefully, first aid kits came with instructions, as she distinctly remembered dozing through the crash course.

They must have sat there for about five minutes before a very loud rustling from behind the fallen tree Regina was sitting on started up – the sound of something quite big pushing through the nearby vegetation. Their reactions were instantaneous; Regina backed away from the trunk, clutching her handgun – David grabbed his rocket launcher (Like taking a sledgehammer to a nut, Regina thought, glancing at it) and cocked it up, also aiming at the disturbance.

It turned out to only be Dylan; carrying a pack and a box along with his shotgun and sporting not only a rather deep looking cut down the left side of his face, but also smaller cuts down his arms – he and everything he was carrying were splattered with gore.

David took one look at him and returned to the campfire, muttering about having almost had a heart attack - almost isn't good enough, Regina mentally sniped – and she lowered her handgun and approached Dylan.

"They were still there, weren't they?" she murmured, taking the pack from him and throwing it toward David.

"Yeah. Snuck round most of them – sleeping, would you believe – but I stood on one's tail right when I was leaving. Woke them all up."

Regina flinched nervously as she sat back on the tree trunk, but Dylan was too busy digging into the box to notice and David was eating what looked like a Meal, Ready to Eat. She wasn't hungry – too wound up on pain and adrenaline – and was having trouble just sitting still on the trunk without jittering.

She glanced at David. Well, at least some people were enjoying themselves.