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.

23. Now Entering: The Danger Zone

"You're sure there's nothing else I can do to get you to come home sooner?" Alan asked, adjusting the strap on his bag. Gwyn fixed him with a wry, but affectionate, smirk and nudged his shoulder with hers. They were approaching the tram station, which was already busy so early in the day.

"We had this conversation last night, you know why I'm staying indefinitely," Gwyn pointed out flatly, but jokingly.

The previous night had, indeed, led to a calmer conversation regarding the idea of her staying on the island. Alan, though still grumping and griping about it, agreed to stop nagging her about it. Their little 'astronomer, astronaut' talk had helped clear the channels, which had gotten a little cluttered since arrival. With a fond chuckle, Alan reached out and placed a hand atop Gwyn's head like he used to when she was shorter. He ruffled her hair, which she had yet to braid for the day; she batted at his hand with a faux-annoyed clucking of her tongue. She couldn't help the smile that crawled across her face.

"Well, whenever you decide to come home, I'll be there to pick you up at the airport. Just give a call," he promised. He adjusted the fit of his hat, which Gwyn had insisted he take back home with him; she'd teased him about the sunburn on the back of his neck, which had been fading when he arrived. He needed the hat more than she did, Gwyn insisted, as half of her days were now spent inside.

They stopped in front of the tram station doors, which slid open automatically as a family exited. Gwyn turned to face him, her smile fading to something a little sad. It was hard to see him go; she loved him dearly and had enjoyed his presence on the island, even if he had grumped around most of the time. She was used to his grumping. It was comforting in a way. But Gwyn knew he wouldn't stay forever, nor would he want to.

"Well, you give me a call when you're back home." Gwyn reached out and slipped her arms around his shoulders in a hug. Alan mumbled an 'I will' as he returned the embrace with one arm, the other holding his bag aside so it didn't hit her. "And make sure to get a whole day of sleep before going back to work. We both know you get grumpy after traveling and those poor paleontology students don't need to experience your wrath."

Alan snorted in her ear before drawing back to fix her with a wry look. They had the whole 'grumpy post traveling' conversation any time he flew anywhere outside of the Montana time zone. But the wry look morphed into something gentler and more fatherly. "Keep looking after yourself. You need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to call. But I've got no doubt that you'll keep everyone here in their place." Alan's eyes then darted back across the tram station plaza. "And keep an eye on that one." Gwyn followed his gaze across the plaza to where it had landed––on Owen. He had driven them from Gwyn's bungalow to the park, as the two of them would be headed back up to the paddock afterwards. "Not that I think you'll have a problem with that…"

"Dad."

Across the plaza, Owen raised his hand in both greeting and farewell. Alan returned the gesture.

"He strikes me as an intelligent man, but a stubborn one. Stubbornness can be a nasty downfall," Alan pointed out, hand dropping back to his side.

"Says one of the most stubborn men I know," laughed Gwyn. She smiled at him fondly before wrapping him in another hug. She pressed a kiss against his cheek and squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm gonna miss you."

Alan squeezed her tightly. "I'll miss you, too…" He kissed her temple and rubbed a hand up and down her back. "Love you, Gwyn."

"Love you too, dad…" She took a step back and cleared her throat. "You should, uh… probably get going, the queues are probably already a mess."

Alan harrumphed at the mention of long lines, and with one last kiss to the forehead and 'I love you,' he disappeared into the tram station. Gwyn watched him leave till the automatic doors shut, letting out a little sigh once he was out of sight. She stood there for a moment longer, tapping her hands against her thighs, before she turned to head back across the plaza. But as she walked, Gwyn picked at the hem of her shirt with a strange kind of anxiety; she wondered if this was how Alan had felt when she'd left to come to Isla Nublar. It was an anxiety born of hoping he got home safe, and from wishing that she could hug him just one more time––because she already missed him.

When she got to the other side, Owen offered a gentle, kind smile.

"He's all set?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure he's probably already giving some poor employee hell for the ineffective queue set up," Gwyn joked. The two of them started to walk against the morning crowd, which flooded towards the station so they could catch one of the first few boats off the island. She couldn't help but glance back towards the station, as though expecting Alan to come marching back out, wagging a finger and griping about the mess that was the island. "He told me to keep an eye on you."

"Oh, really? Why's that? Did I, uh… give him reason to not trust me?" Owen chuckled. And though his tone was joking, there was clearly some true concern to the inquiry. Gwyn shrugged her shoulders, the linen of her button down rubbing gently against her skin. The shirt was tucked into her shorts, and she could already feel sweat gathering where it touched her skin.

"Says your stubborn; he believes that stubbornness leads to a whole host of troubles. He should know, he's one of the most stubborn people alive."

"Guess it's a compliment, then, if it's coming from one of the most stubborn people. But, y'know, I wouldn't complain if you had to look after me. It's a trustworthy eye… wouldn't want any other eyes watching me," he commented, tone light. Gone was the concern that he'd done Alan Grant wrong, replaced by a confident swagger that Gwyn had started to become quite familiar with.

Gwyn couldn't help the smile that crawled across her face, quirking up one corner of her mouth a little higher than the other. It was a crooked kind of smile that suited her quite well. She turned on her heel so she was walking backwards; she let her eyes scale Owen from head-to-toe and back again, the crookedness of her smile growing.

"And you're not so bad to keep an eye on," she shot back, tone just as light.

Owen grinned brightly, chuckling that very special chuckle in the back of his throat. It was raspy and genuine and warm. Just as Gwyn's smile evened out a little, she turned around to walk correctly. They lapsed into silence as they merged with the growing crowd on Main Street. Their playful moment had been enough to distract her from the slow well of emotion in her stomach, caused by Alan's departure. But, as they made their way towards the 'backstage' area where Owen had parked his jeep, she could feel it returning. That low sense of melancholy that she wouldn't see her father for a while.

"Miss him already?"

Gwyn looked over at Owen to find him smiling at her, fondly almost. Or maybe it was fondness. It was the kind of look that she'd seen cross his face in his video diaries, in those moments where she came into conversation. It was a look that inspired a growth of warmth in the middle of her chest. Gwyn cleared her throat quietly and looked down at her feet, which scuffed at the pavement as they moved. Both of her hands comfortably found a spot inside the pockets of her shorts.

"Yeah. But, y'know, I knew he wasn't going to be here for long. If he was here for longer the entire island would be engulfed in flames. I wouldn't be surprised if he has a notebook filled with all the things he particularly detested."

Beside her, Owen chuckled at the image as though agreeing with it. "I'm sure that he'll restrain himself till you ask him to fly on back with a torch."

"We'll see how my next run-in with Hoskins goes; my dad's on speed dial, the Grants could burn this place to the ground in minutes," Gwyn snarked with a smirk.

"Well don't go burning it down just yet, we've got a big event coming up," Owen warned.

Gwyn fixed him with a look, eyes squinting against the morning sunlight. He raised his eyebrows as to say 'oh yeah,' which prompted a mildly confused laugh out of Gwyn's mouth. Now she narrowed her eyes purposefully, playfully, as she walked a little closer to him. Their elbows bumped together.

"What's coming up?" she prompted, voice low as though they were about to share a secret. He smiled widely at her joking manner, casting her that fond look again.

"There's a, uh… gala," Owen started. He fidgeted a little, smoothing his fingers over his jaw and chin. Gwyn looked at him expectantly, brows gently arched, whilst she waited for him to continue. "The Investor's Gala. Claire holds it annually. It's sort of a… 'let's get together to celebrate the park's accomplishments' kind of thing. Real hoity-toity and crawling with overconfident assholes. Investors roll up in tuxedos and the park higher-ups mingle with their staff, for what is likely the first time since the last gala."

"Sounds like fun," Gwyn chuckled with a wry smirk. She'd attended such events before––museum promotions and such. Sometimes they were fun, sometimes they were not. And by the way that Owen described the Inventor's Gala, it didn't sound like it was terribly fun. Owen snorted and laughed, looking down at his hands while they walked.

"Yeah, definitely. You can never really get drunk off the tiny flutes of champagne they offer you, and Claire has this rule that the bar can't serve any one person more than two drinks in order to prevent intoxication in front of the higher-ups. But, uh, with present company," Owen gestured to her, "I thought that maybe this year's gala might be a little more tolerable. I was, uh… I thought that if you were interested in going, maybe we could go together. If you like."

It was then that Gwyn stopped moving. She stopped dead in the middle of Main Street, much to the chagrin of the tourists behind her. It felt like her heart was hammering out of her chest, like it was beating loud enough for any passerby to hear. It felt like something inside her head had short circuited. Sure, there had been enough evidence to suggest that something like this was coming, but still, to have it actually come to fruition had stalled her. It made her want to grin like an idiot, but it was all she could do to blink at him, wide-eyed.

Owen had walked a few more steps before realizing that no one was walking beside him anymore. He stopped and turned, blinking back at her. A faint crease started to form between his brows, a worried kind of expression beginning to take over his features. Gwyn was sure that the dumb-struck expression on her face wasn't helping. But she wiped that look off her face and tried to fight of the silly smile that wanted to split across her face.

"It's a date, then," she agreed, an almost delighted tremor to the tone of her voice. The corners of her mouth quirked upwards in an almost cheeky manner.

Owen blinked at her a second time before he arched his brows and cleared his throat. He started to retrace the steps he'd taken, the corner of his mouth drawing upwards. He came to a stop before her, standing a little closer than before. The sunlight glowed warmly in his hair, which was tousled and curled from the humidity. He smirked down at her roguishly, head cocked to the side. "Is it a date?"

The smile that had been trembling at the corners of Gwyn's mouth finally won out. She beamed up at him, an expression so impossibly bright that it nearly outshone the sun. "If you'd like it to be."

Owen's smirk grew into a smile, one that just about matched Gwyn's. The worry that had previously creased his forehead was long gone, instead replaced by the endearing crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

"I'd like it to be," he agreed.

"Then it's a date," she confirmed.

For a moment, the two of them just grinned stupidly at one another.

"So, um… coffee, right? Before we head back?" Owen threw a thumb over his shoulder and glanced over at the Starbucks on the corner. There was a moment before Gwyn laughed quietly at herself for being so lost for a moment, and then nodded.

"Yeah! Um, yeah; you paid last time, so it's on me," she said. With an unkillable smile still on her face, Gwyn stepped around Owen and started to make her way towards the coffee shop. She took a few steps before glancing back over her shoulder; Owen was smiling after her, following a couple steps behind. She looked forward and grinned up towards the sky, head tilted back a little to bathe in the sunlight.

It felt like everything was looking up; everything was sunny and good. It didn't feel like she was on Isla Nublar, worrying that every storm cloud was going to cause disaster. For a moment, it felt like life was carrying on as it should. The last thing Gwyn would have expected to have gotten on Isla Nublar was a date. At most she'd expected a panic attack. But a date was a nice turn of events, and one that she had to admit she was quite excited by; and Gwyn felt a giddiness that she hadn't felt for years.

OOOO

The day passed and, with the start of a new one, that giddiness had not dissipated. It left Gwyn with her head tilted towards the sky the corners of her lips quirked. It was nice to have something exciting to look forward to, something to take her mind off of every bad memory that lurked in the shade of the jungle, and echoed in the sound of dinosaur shrieks. It did help that this was something that, quietly, Gwyn had hoped would come to fruition. Ever since Alan had pointed out that Owen seemed particularly fond for her, that hope had grown, and now it was more than a hope. It was a reality. Romantic relationships weren't something that Gwyn often focused her attention on; they were nice, but they weren't necessary. She didn't need to order her life around having one. But if one came along, and it was one that she'd enjoy, Gwyn would happily accept the almost bubbly feeling that they left in her stomach.

The newfound reality of their mutual feelings was bright enough that kept Gwyn smiling quietly to herself as she made her daily observation of the Indominuses. Her tablet sat propped up against her crossed legs, a half-filled document of notes staring up at her. The cursor flashed, waiting for more observations to be typed, and her fingers hovered over the screen in preparation. Nothing must of interest had passed so far. It was late afternoon and the evening feeding encounter was approaching; the crane had been fixed, thankfully, but there was still no news on whether or not they would be returning to live prey.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Grant," said Claire pleasantly as she entered the observation room.

Gwyn glanced over her shoulder with a smile. "Afternoon, Claire. You're here just in time."

"In time for what?" She stepped forward, heels clicking primply against the floor, before she came to a stop beside Gwyn's usual chair. Gwyn smirked a little crookedly and made a sweeping gesture to the window wall.

"To observe the passing of a most uneventful afternoon," she joked. Gwyn watched the red haired woman roll her eyes, though there was an encouraging lift to the corner of her mouth. For all of the façades that Claire put up, she did have a sense of humor behind that professional mask. "Is there any word on the, uh, feeding routine?"

Claire smoothed a hand over the front of her blouse, which was a lovely pale blue, and cleared her throat gently. The faint twitch of her eyebrow made it clear that the answer to the question wasn't going to be encouraging. Not for either of them.

"I'm currently communicating with the proper authorities about changing the routine, but they're being particularly adamant that this is the better method," Claire informed, a mild amount of resignation and annoyance in her tone.

With a sigh, Gwyn pinched her brows together and rubbed at her right eye with the heel of her palm. "Yeah, well, when did any of them ever make things easy for us?" she grumped under her breath.

There was a buzzing from inside the paddock, which drew the attention of both women. It was feeding time. Most feeding times passed with the same pattern––the carcass was dropped, Ingrid would fight her sister off, she'd eat most of the food, and then trot off to leave Irene with the leftovers. Gwyn had written note after note about how the food amount needed to be upped, and that Irene needed more food. She was smaller than her sister: skinnier, shorter, and she also physically seemed to shrink her stature whenever in her sister's presence. It made it incredibly easy to tell the two Indominuses apart. They were frightening looking creatures, no matter their size, and that became more evident with every passing day. Their skin was grey in color, though Gwyn thought that it seemed more white or grey given the day. Spines poked out viciously from the back of their heads, cutting a terrifying kind of profile. These spines followed along their backs like a mountain range. Watching the Indominuses move was like watching a nightmare come to life. Their jaws opened far wider than seemed natural and their teeth were something certainly something to behold. Gwyn wanted a close-up picture of those teeth, but there was no way to get one without one of the girls being sedated; that, and she was sure the lab wouldn't want her prying that much. Teeth could reveal a lot about what they had spliced together.

A carcass––already de-skinned and de-limbed, bearing only the torso of a very unfortunate steer––was lowered in on a crane. The minute the carcass was dropped to the ground, there was a whip of foliage and a flash of pale skin. Irene had burst out from the paddock's jungle thicket immediately tearing into the new meal. She gripped the meat and bone with disastrously dextrous claws, tearing at the food almost desperately. Gwyn waited patiently for Ingrid to come tearing into the clearing, screeching and snapping at her sister till she backed off. But a full minute passed and there was no sign of her. The paleontologist's brows furrowed. Normally Ingrid was snatching up her share of food as soon as the crane dropped it. But what became perfectly evident––and noteworthy––was that Irene seemed more relaxed without her sister around. She was gnawing at the steer hungrily, but she wasn't checking her surroundings.

Before Gwyn could tap out a note, her eyes caught sight of something. Just behind the treeline, she saw a flash of pale skin. Lurking in the cover of the trees was Ingrid, slowly pacing the length of the observation clearing. When she appeared from the trees, her tail whipped back and forth lowly, whacking at low lying ferns. Her head dropped low and her mouth dropped open. Gwyn, with eyes starting to go wide, realized that Ingrid had crept up behind Irene; realized that she was stalking her sister––not the meat.

"Call ACU," Gwyn demanded.

"What, why?" Claire darted her eyes from Gwyn back to the two dinosaurs in the paddock. Gwyn started to rise from her seat, eyes widening as Ingrid started to lumber towards Irene threateningly. "What's she doing?"

"She's doing what instinct is driving her to do––she wants to hunt because the novelty of eating something already dead has worn off. There's only one thing in there that's viable hunting material, and that's her sister."

"Y-you mean she's hunting her?" Claire stressed in disbelief.

"D'you want two of these monsters or just one? Call ACU, Claire!"

Claire fumbled to type out the phone number, but any effort she could have made to prevent this would be futile. Because just as her phone reached her ear, Ingrid lunged.

What followed was what could only be described as a mess.

Gwyn watched in mounting horror, as Ingrid very nearly pounced on her sister. There was a war of screeching as Irene was forced to the ground, the two crying out at each other. Irene thrashed and whipped around to try and get free. But Ingrid had none of that, and sank her teeth into Irene's shoulder. Blood, bright and plentiful, cut violent streaks across Irene's skin. The pained screech she released caused Gwyn's shoulders to jump.

"We need ACU at the Indominus paddock right now!"

It would be a lie to say that there was any sort of fight between Ingrid and Irene; Irene was smaller and weaker. There was only so much she could do to fight off her sister. It wasn't long before her thrashing got weaker. All the while, Ingrid was tearing at her skin, teeth pulling at muscle and tendon unyieldingly. The pained cries of the injured dinosaur were bone chillingly plaintive. The clincher was when Ingrid's teeth found Irene's throat, sinking in deep; with a few violent shakes of her head, the fight was over completely. Irene had gone limp, feet weaky scratching at the ground before going completely still. With a frightening hunger, Ingrid tore a chunk of Irene's throat out and gnashed it between her teeth.

Gwyn felt her stomach turn violently. There was blood everywhere. It pooled in the dirt like rainwater after a storm. Ingrid lifted her head then, tendons and flesh dangling from her teeth, and turned her attention towards the windows. Blood painted her maw like lipstick, dripping and filling the creases in her skin. Gwyn felt frozen to the spot––because she could have sworn to god that the Indominus was looking right at her. Ingrid tilted her head and made a chuffing kind of sound, attention not once deviating from the windows. Like she was looking for approval. Under its gaze, Gwyn felt reduced to eleven years old again; she felt small and helpless and terrified. Her stomach clenched with unstoppable nausea and her eyes stung with tears. Tripping over her own feet, Gwyn twisted around and stumbled directly into the chair she'd vacated. The tablet dropped from her hand, which grabbed at the chair, and hit the floor with a concerning smack. With blood pounding in her ears, Gwyn very nearly made a run for the door.

This was a living nightmare about to come true.

OOOO

It was a miracle that Gwyn didn't crash her car.

Gwyn's hands were shaking and her eyes were blurred with tears. It was hard to focus on the way the road curved through the jungle. When she'd fled the paddock, she'd just jumped into her jeep and started to drive. There was no destination in mind. All Gwyn wanted was to be somewhere safe. Because what she had just seen? That was not safe. That was horrifying. That was what she was scared of. So Gwyn drove and drove and drove till, finally, she found herself putting the vehicle in park. She couldn't recall how she'd gotten to where she was, how long it had taken, or what had happened along the way. All Gwyn knew was that she was parked outside Owen's bungalow and she was about to lose it.

There was nothing graceful about the way that Gwyn clamoured out of her jeep. The keys dangled from her fingers, rattling noisily as she walked unevenly towards the deck. Each step had a sense of mounting urgency. Her eyes were set on Owen, who was seated on the porch, listening to the radio. He stood up upon realizing that Gwyn had shown up out of the blue; there was a pleasantly surprised smile on his face. But that smile had faded when his eyes darted across her face. Gwyn bounded up the deck steps and, Owen just had to barely open his arms for her to wrap herself around him tightly. The keys fell from her hand and fell to the deck with a clatter.

Owen wrapped his arms around her carefully. His hold was warm and protective. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"I… There's… I–I'm not working in the lab anymore, they put me on a secret project that I've not been allowed to talk about, but now it's all going down hill, and I'm terrified, and I don't know what to do," Gwyn spewed. The first half of her run-on sentence was muffled by his shoulder, but she slowly started to pull away half-way through. Tears had started to track down her cheeks, but she barely noticed, anxiety climbing high into her throat. "Because if I try to do anything, I could be fired, and if I get fired I can't try and do anything, so I'm stuck and I'm scared and I can't––I can't let that happen, and I don't know what to do and I––"

"Hey, hey, hey, I need you to take a breath, okay?" Owen told her. His voice was calm. He placed his hands on her shoulders and bent at the waist so he could meet her eyes. "Hey, just look at me, okay?" Gwyn hadn't realized she'd been staring at his shoulder till her eyes, glassy and tear-filled, shifted to meet his. He raised his eyebrows and took in a slow, deep breath––which she mirrored shakily. "I think you should sit down."

Gwyn let out the air she'd just taken in a huff, anxiety still crawling through her veins. Her nasal passages started to sting and her eyes watered up again. "I don't think I can."

"I think you should. C'mon." Owen ushered her towards the camper chair he'd previously been sitting in, and urged her to sit. He slid his hands from her shoulders to her elbows, and then to her hands as he dropped into a couch in front of her. "Just keep breathing. I'm gonna go get you some water, okay?" He didn't move till she nodded her head and muttered a quiet 'yeah.' He squeezed her fingers before he stood, a thumb swiping across the back of her knuckles.

Gwyn sniffed and rubbed the heels of her palms into her eyes. "Y'got anything stronger than water?"

"I think that you'll be better off without alcohol at the moment." Owen's hand patted her shoulder before he passed her by to slip inside.

A stilted, half-laugh tumbled from her lips; she could feel her head aching from stress. She supposed that, yes, water was the best option. Drinking would only put her into more of a tizzy. With what ended up being a half-sigh, half-groan, Gwyn leaned forward and braced her elbows on her knees. Her head flopped forward, hair falling around her face. It had been let down because the air conditioning at the paddock observation room got her neck all cold. And it was the back of that neck that Gwyn pressed her fingers against, massaging it with blunted nails.

"That seems to be an anxious habit," Owen pointed out.

Gwyn cocked her head upwards a little, brows pulled together. The sudden observation threw her addled head for a loop. It was so focused on what she'd just witnessed that the change in subject was almost overwhelming. Owen held a glass of water in one hand and a folded up camper chair in the other. "Um… yeah, had it since I was a kid."

"All bad habits start somewhere." He offered her the glass and, once she took it, he pulled the canvas chair open. "How'd it start?"

It took almost embarrassingly long for Gwyn to grasp the question. The change in subject. She furrowed her brows down at her glass of water, which she then took a sip from. Once she'd swallowed the water, Gwyn sat up a little straighter, the back of her hand swiping at the corner of her mouth. "I, uh, have a… bad habit of not remembering to put sunscreen on the back of my neck. Always have, ever since I was a kid. I would… put a hand over it to try and stop my dad from seeing," she explained.

"Explains why the back of your neck is always a little more tan than the rest of you––all the repeated burning fading into tan," Owen observed. It was stated so casually that it made Gwyn snort.

It was then, as Gwyn brought the glass of water to her lips, that she realized what he was doing––he was purposefully changing the subject. He wanted to take her mind off of what had gotten her so riled up. It was just like the morning after she'd woken up from The Nightmare; he'd made her breakfast and chatted about trivial things. She lowered the glass from her lips and hugged it between her palms. The condensation was cool against her skin, which had been slick with anxious sweat.

"Thanks," Gwyn murmured.

"Don't mention it. Just get the rest of that in you; you're all flushed, I don't want you passing out on me." His tone was firm, and he was pointing to the glass; there was a quiet militaristic authority in the order.

With a half-hearted smirk, Gwyn lifted the glass in a quasi-toasting motion. "Sir, yes, sir." The glass was brought back to her lips and she took another swig, suddenly aware of how desperately she needed the water. Half the glass was gone by the time she pulled it away from her mouth.

For a while, they sat quietly, listening to radio chatter; it was all in Spanish, broadcast off the mainland. But it was nice to have a lulling sense of chatter that they didn't have to focus on. The quiet wasn't uncomfortable. Owen had taken to tinkering with what looked to be a part of his bike, his fingers smudged with grease. Gwyn eventually finished off her water and leaned back in the chair, eyes shut. They both merely existed in each other's presence for a good while, which was enough to allow Gwyn's head to clear. Her heart rate had calmed, her hands had stopped shaking, and her eyes were dry from the tears they'd shed. But her thoughts were still a tangle.

"What's something that you've always wanted?" Owen asked.

The question took a moment to register, but when it did, all Gwyn said in response was, "Hm?"

"What's something that you've always wanted?" he reiterated. When she lifted her head, Gwyn arched an eyebrow at him. "I can practically see the anxiety crawling back through your body, we need to talk about something, keep your mind off it."

"You're… not at all interested in the fact that the words 'secret project' flew out of my mouth?"

"I am; but I figure if whatever's happened almost reduced you to a puddle of nerves, it can wait. So. What have you always wanted?"

Gwyn felt her heart swell at how actively he was trying to keep her mind off of everything. A tiny bit of a smile pulled up at the corners of her mouth. She thought over the question, sifting through all the possible answers she could give. The answer could be philosophical, simple, any where in between. Owen waited patiently, setting the motor part he'd been tinkering with aside, his fingers streaked with grease. But Gwyn settled on something that she'd always known she'd wanted, ever since she was a kid.

"I've, uh… always wanted a dog," Gwyn admitted almost sheepishly. "It never seemed to make sense to have a dog, y'know? Half the time we were never home, and trips to dig sites out of Montana were usually pretty long. I've got colleagues that made it work, but I don't think my dad would've been able to handle both a small, rambunctious child and a small, rambunctious puppy at the same time." She laughed and shook her head, picturing her father running after a younger version of herself, who probably would have been chasing their puppy through a dig site. It was a nice thought, a nice image of something that had never happened.

Owen, who was beaming at her, drew her back to reality by nuding her ankle with his toe. "What kind of dog?"

"Doesn't matter. Big dog, small dog… I've always wanted one. Would name it either Brody or Indy."

"After… the police chief from Jaws or Indiana Jones?"

"Well, don't you know me so well," she laughed, kicking her toe lightly into his ankle. The lightness of the conversation was welcomed, and it certainly seemed to be doing its job. With each exchange of words, she thought about the paddock a little less. The anxiety in her throat started to die down. "So. What's something that you've always wanted?"

It didn't take long for Owen to respond; he had his answer right at the forefront of his mind, as though there were no doubt about it.

"A house of my own." His tone was decided and confident. "That's what I've wanted for a while, now. When I was in the military, I had the barracks, y'know? Then, if I wasn't in the barracks, I was in an apartment, or I was visiting my family. But I'd like a place that's all my own. I want to… create the floor plan, choose the building materials…"

Gwyn nodded in understanding, shifting in her seat to face him better. "You want to build your own house," she deduced. Owen nodded, rubbing grease-stained fingers against each other. He eyed the siding of his bungalow, which was wooden and weather-worn.

"A cabin, specifically. Somewhere nice; somewhere kinda like this." Owen gestured to the area around his bungalow––out of the way but accessible. Amongst nature, but not isolated. "There's just something about… having a place that is totally and completely yours. A place where you picked the floorboards, you picked the light fixtures…"

While he'd been talking, he had been looking out towards the horizon, eyes sparkling with something akin to hope. It was easy to tell that this was something that Owen really wanted. Something that he wanted to make sure would happen. Gwyn had an impossibly soft smile on her face, her cheek leaned against her fist.

"Sounds nice," she admitted softly.

Owen chuckled under his breath with a murmured 'yeah.' He shrugged, then, and reclined back in his chair, kicking his feet out a little. They again lapsed into a comfortable silence, one where Gwyn felt significantly more relaxed. But even in that comfortability, she was still a little twitchy. Owen had done a bang up job in keeping her mind off of everything; but knowing that he was trying to keep her distracted was enough of a reminder. A reminder of blood and horror and fear. She cleared her throat and the tips of her fingers found the back of her neck.

"I, uh… I've been watching over two dinosaurs. For Wu. For the lab," Gwyn said quietly. She was keenly aware of Owen watching her, but she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. She instead stared down at the deck, eyes sliding along the wood grain. "And, uh…" A tremble overtook her voice. She cleared her throat, though it did nothing to help. "Today… one of them… she, uh… she attacked and started to… eat her sister. And she looked right at me, like she was proud of it and I… lost it. I felt like a little kid again, staring into the face of death."

The silence that followed the admission was heavy. It was unsure. It was the kind of admission that the answer to which was difficult to come by. Gwyn didn't know what she expected Owen to say, just as much as he clearly didn't know how to reply.

"What kind of dinosaurs?"

"I, uh… can't tell you. If I divulge details Wu will take particular pleasure in throwing me on the next boat to Costa Rica. But they're dangerous. They scare me to death… and now more than ever, I want to do something but I don't know what. I've sent emails, I've tried talking to the higher-ups, but they just… send me on a wild goose chase and let me get lost in the system," she griped, her voice going croaky at the end. She placed a hand over her eyes and sighed heavily through her nose. There was the break of plastic and the shift of clothing against fabric; Gwyn dropped her hand from her eyes to find that Owen had sat forward in his chair. His gaze was so intent that she dropped her own back to the deck.

"Well… don't let them throw you back into the system again. If what's happening is scaring you this much, they need to listen to you. You've got an insight none of us have. And if they should listen to anyone's fears on this island, it's you. Don't give them the chance to ignore you. Stomp, rant, rave. Make them regret not listening to you before," Owen told her.

Gwyn lifted her eyes from the ground and let them land on Owen. He was staring at her intently, his lips pressed tightly together. His words of advice were bolstering. They reminded her that she wasn't the scared little eleven year old anymore; she was a grown woman with a stance and a voice, and she could make use of that. She could really make use of that. Ever since arriving on Isla Nublar, Gwyn had patiently played by InGen's rules. She had allowed them to volley her back-and-forth and run her around in circles. But not anymore. She couldn't allow that to happen anymore. With a steadying breath, Gwyn sat a little straighter and nodded her head.

This was the end of playing by InGen's rules; they were about to learn just how hard Gwyn Grant could play.

Afterword: I wanted this chapter up last week, but I was leaving home early and getting back really late, so time escaped me. I finally got around to finishing up this chapter, and I'm happy to finally have finished it! I had to edit some of the initial ideas, as the context changed severely, so it took some time. But I'm pretty happy with how it turned out!

Review Replies!

SabakuNoGaara426: You predicted the big event of the chapter correctly––Irene is gone, now, poor darling. And Gwyn is taking no one's bullshit anymore. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

katy 1986: The minute I saw JWFK I knew that I was going to have to do stuff with those video diaries. Because I feel like with Gwyn as involved as she is in the work at the paddock, she'd be bound to pop up in his notes. What we missed of Owen in last chapter, I hope was made up for in this one; I'm getting back into the groove of writing this story, so I'm getting back into the groove of writing him as well. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

AmericanNidiot: Wu's got some real verbal slapping coming up; Gwyn is going to put up with even less of his bullshit now. Everything is ticking towards a big explosion. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

Arianna Le Fay: Alan and Owen actually met in chapter 19! Gwyn asked Owen to take Alan out to lunch for her. But there will be Alan and Owen moments later in the story, post-movie events! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

Madama Crimson: We'll actually get Masrani's response to her email next chapter; because I believe that he would want the best for the park, as misguided as some of his intentions may be. And the astronomer/astronaut talk was pivotal for the Grants. 'Cause neither of them fully understood where the other was coming from, and that analogy helped clear it up for them––especially Alan. I think that their little talk probably impacted him the most; because it's becoming clear that her calling in life is different––and a little more dangerous––than he thought it was. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter, and I'm glad that you enjoyed the previous one! Thanks again!

NicoleR85: Alan and Gwyn finally worked out their misunderstandings, though Alan is definitely still cautious about it all. He couldn't not be. I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks again!

AugustRrush: Thank you so much; I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

monkeybaby: I'm glad that you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

daydreamer1119: I'm very happy that you've enjoyed the story so far. And I hope that you enjoyed the new chapter; thanks again!

crocodilesmile55: Gwyn will not be training the hybrid's, as she was just there for behavioral observation; that, and I don't think that Wu would ever allow her to be that involved with them. She's as involved in the project as they're letting her be, though she clearly keeps grasping at trying to do more. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Guest: Thank you so much; I love getting to write heartfelt moments, especially between Gwyn and Alan. I love writing Alan as a dad, it's so much fun, and it's so lovely. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter; thanks again!

EnJay: Thank you so much! I'm glad that you've enjoyed the story, I've had so much fun writing it. I hope you enjoyed the new chapter; thank you again!

Angel JJK: We got some good Owyn moments in this chapter! And we've got more to come. I hope you enjoyed the chapter; thanks again!

Raider-K: I adore writing Alan (in any capacity, but especially in dad-mode). Writing Gwyn and Alan's dynamic is challengingly fun, because they are simultaneously so similar and so different. They butt heads, but they also see eye-to-eye. I'm very happy you enjoy reading them together. Thanks again! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

readingtilldawn: I'm very happy you've enjoyed the story thus far! I hope you enjoyed the new chapter as well! Thanks again!

And thank you to all that have read and added this to their follows/favorites; it means a lot!
And there's that for now! I really, really hope to get the next chapter up sometime this weekend or early next week. I've got free time to write, finally, after my hectic week last week. I hope that you're all doing well, and I thank you again for being awesome!

~Mary