Author's Note: I do not own Jurassic Park or any of the characters. They belong to Michael Crichton, Steven Spielberg, and Universal Pictures, I have simply borrowed the characters for this story. I only own my OC Melissa Muldoon, who is Robert's 21 year old daughter. I would like to point out that it would be possible for Robert to have a 21 year old daughter if he was in his 20's when she was born. Also, I am in no way shape or form implying that Bob Peck(the actor who played Muldoon) was schizophrenic, I just wanted to flesh out Robert a bit more than he was in both the film and the book. Please read and review.

This chapter takes place on year after the events of the movie and will detail how the characters are doing one year later. A note on Robert's point of view in this chapter, he's in a pretty dark place at this point and is about ready to end it all. I urge those who may be depressed or having trouble in their lives to please seek help.

'How many times do I have to tell you, Even when you're crying you're beautiful too.'-All Of Me by John Legend

Chapter 8: Even When You're Crying You're Beautiful Too

One Year Later

Alan's POV

I look next to me and see Melissa's sleeping form. She seems to be having a nightmare, so she won't be asleep much longer. She wakes with a start, crying and screaming. I pull her close and kiss the top of her head.

"It's alright, you're safe now." I say.

Melissa says nothing and cries into my shoulder.

'God, she's beautiful when she's crying.' I think.

I mentally slap myself for that thought. I rub her back to make her feel better, and come across the scars left behind by the raptor. How I wish I could erase the scars and what happened. I wish I'd never set foot on that damn island. Melissa stops crying and looks at me.

"Nightmare?" I ask.

"Yeah." Melissa says.

"What was it about?"

"My dad. He died this time."

Somehow I knew that's what it might have been about. She always has nightmares of the attack that nearly killed her and Robert. Most of the time the outcome of these nightmares are the same as what happened back on the island, but there are times when it isn't. Those times he dies, and she can't stop it.

"You know that didn't happen." I say.

"Alan, my dad nearly died. They left him badly scarred. Not to mention the fact that I was left with scars of my own. Both physical and mental." Melissa says.

"We all have our scars from that day."

"I know, but my dad got the worst of it."

"I know he did." I quietly say.

Poor Robert, his left shoulder was pretty messed up in the attack. He was lucky that he didn't end up losing his arm because of how damaged it was. I know as well as the rest of our group that we're all lucky to be alive.

"Tell me what we did wasn't foolish." Melissa says.

"What do you mean?" I ask puzzled.

"Going into the jungle was very foolish, wasn't it?" Melissa asks.

"No, it wasn't. First of all, you saved Ellie's life; and second, they set a trap. A trap that you walked into not even knowing it was a trap." I say.

Melissa lets out a long sigh before speaking. When she does speak, she sounds angry.

"That trap nearly killed us." Melissa growls.

"Melissa, I'm sorry. I don't know what to tell you. I know nothing about hunting." I say trying to calm her down.

"Well, I do. I grew up hunting. I should have seen that we were walking into a trap." Melissa explains.

I let out a long sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. How I wish I could talk to someone about this. I wish I could tell someone what happened on that damn island. I sigh again and look at Melissa.

"Alan, say something." Melissa says.

"I love you." I say.

Melissa smiles and goes to say something, but crying from the next room stops her.

"I need to check on AJ." Melissa says.

"Let him cry for a bit." I say.

"He might be hungry." Melissa says getting out of bed.

She walks out of the room and I catch sight of the scars on her back. The scars run from her right shoulder to her left hip, and she has others elsewhere. Just as I'm thinking about this, Melissa walks in with AJ. I smile at her and wait for her to hand me my son so I can cuddle with him.

Robert's POV

Screams cut through whatever dream I happen to be having. My sleep clouded brain can't tell if the screams belong to me or Ellie.

"Robert." Ellie says.

Her voice sounds like it's coming from somewhere far away.

"Robert!" Ellie shouts.

I shoot up in bed rubbing my face.

"What?" I ask, my voice still thick with sleep.

"You were having a nightmare." Ellie says.

'That explains the screams.' I think.

"Was I?" I ask.

"Yeah, it sounded like a bad one."

That's when it all comes back to me, I was dreaming about what happened a year ago.

"It was." I say.

"Was it about what happened on the island?" Ellie asks.

"Yeah." I say with a sigh.

"It's ok." Ellie says as she rubs my back.

I shrug her hand off and pull my knees to my chest. I wrap my arms around my legs and rest my head on my knees. Right now I don't want to look at anyone.

"Robert, I can't help you if you don't let me." Ellie says.

"I don't want help." I say.

Ellie lets out a long sigh and starts crying. I'm not sure if she's doing that to get my attention or if she's really upset. Whatever she's doing is working. I pick my head up and look at her.

"Please talk to me." Ellie says.

I let out a long sigh through my nose. I can't tell her about my dream. Why can't I tell her about my dream? I can't tell her because I died in my dream.

"I died." I quietly say.

"Oh Robert." Ellie says with a sigh.

I look down at my left forearm. The scars that stand out on my tanned skin are a painful reminder of the price I paid for failing to protect my friends.

"Ellie, I should have died. It would have been better for everyone." I say.

"Everyone?" Ellie asks.

"Yes."

"Including your kids?"

"Especially them. They wouldn't have to know how much I screwed up."

"Robert, you haven't screwed up." Ellie says.

"Yes, I have. I royally messed things up at the park. Melissa will tell you that." I say.

Ellie lets out a long sigh in response to that. I know I'm a screw up when it comes to matters about the park. I let out a long sigh and get out of bed. I walk out of the room and down the hall to the living room. My mind is racing as I make my way to the couch.

I flop on the couch and put my head in my hands. I'm a failure as a father, hunter, and game warden. There's nothing I can do right. Well, maybe there is one thing. I can end my pathetic excuse of a life.

At least I know if I end it all, nobody will miss me. How I ended up as this much of a failure I will never know. I used to be better than this. My life used to have meaning. The incident at the park stripped my life of any meaning it once had.

I let out a long sigh and start crying. I cry for the people I failed to protect, myself, and the man I used to be. How I was once able to protect those around me from harm. Jurassic Park made sure I'd fail everyone around me. I suffered for that and so did my daughter.

Soon, however, I'll make sure I can't fail anyone anymore. Soon I'll end my miserable excuse of a life. No one will miss me.

Melissa's POV

I sit on the couch in the living room with my chin resting on my left hand while I talk on the phone. Ellie is on the other end of the line. She seems to be having some sort of problem with my dad. Not that I wasn't expecting that. Somehow I knew she'd end up having a problem with him.

"I can't take him anymore." Ellie says.

"What did he do now?" I ask.

"He's spent the last two days passed out on the couch."

"Drunk?" I ask puzzled.

"Unfortunately." Ellie says with a sigh.

"Great." I say with a sigh.

"You know how he is when he gets drunk." Ellie says.

That's where she's wrong. I have no idea how he is when he's drunk. I've only seen him drunk once, and that's when we were celebrating Ray's birthday. Everyone, including me, was drunk.

"Ellie, I don't know how he is when he's drunk." I say.

"He's not very nice. He punched a hole in the wall."

'So, my dad turned out to be a violent drunk.' I think.

Somehow I figured as much. I let out a long sigh in response to Ellie's statement.

"I want to know how you've never seen him like this." Ellie says.

"I only saw him drunk once, and that was 4 years ago. And to top it off, I barely remember that night." I say.

"You were wasted at 18?" Ellie asks shocked.

"Yeah."

"Why?" Ellie asks.

"Because it was Ray's birthday."

"How did you not get in trouble?"

"The legal drinking age in Costa Rica is 18, that's how."

Ellie sighs at me through the phone. It's not like I was forced to drink that night, I wanted to do it.

"So, what do you need from me?" I ask.

"I need you to come over here and talk to him." Ellie says.

"Fine, I'll be there in 5." I say and hang up the phone.

'Great, I'm 22 years old and I'm still pulling my dad out of his messes.' I think.

I get up off the couch and head to my room. I grab my boots and put them on. Leaving my room, I grab my hat and head to the front door. I put on my hat and walk out the door. I quickly cross the dig site to the trailer that Ellie and my dad share.

Ellie is waiting for me at the door. She looks at me and gives me a sad smile. I think I know what that's about.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"You're dressed like you were when we first met." Ellie says.

"I always dress like this. It's how I'm comfortable." I say.

"You got that from your dad no doubt."

"Yeah." I say with a sigh.

"You two are very much alike."

I let out a long sigh in response. My dad and I are alike in more ways than Ellie knows. I was always under the impression that a couple's kid or kids were supposed to be a mix of the two people who produced the kid, but the fact that I seem to have gotten most of my dad's genes makes that untrue. Except for the fact that I'm a woman, I'm like a clone of my dad. It's uncanny how much alike we really are.

From our height, features, and blue eyes to our build and hair color, we're exactly alike. Ellie clears her throat and I'm brought back to my senses. I walk into the trailer and take off my hat. I walk into the living room and throw my hat on a chair. Turning around, I see my dad sprawled out on the couch.

I take a long look at him and let out a sigh. His left arm is resting on his stomach. The position it's in makes me cringe, even though I know it can't be helped. His shoulder didn't quite heal right and it makes his arm stick out at a bit of an odd angle. How he can even use his arm is beyond me.

On the floor near the couch I see empty bottles of beer and some other booze which I think might be scotch or whiskey. I walk over and inspect the bottles by picking one up.

'Scotch, how did I know?' I think.

I toss the bottle back on the floor and kneel down next to the couch. I give my dad a shake and he does nothing but moan. Letting out a string of obscure British and Swahili curses, I give my dad a hard slap in the face. My dad then turns his head and looks at me.

"Why did you do that?" He asks.

"To wake you up." I say.

"I don't want to wake up." My dad says.

"Why not?" I ask.

"Because I'm done."

"What do you mean by that?" I ask puzzled.

"Finished. Over living."

I swear under my breath in Swahili. Why hadn't I noticed this before? How could I not have known that my dad wanted to die?

"You're better than that." I say.

"Not anymore. I'm a failure." My dad says.

"I've never known you to be a failure. You're anything but."

"I failed to protect you on the island." My dad says with a sob.

"You didn't fail to protect me. I got hurt protecting you."

"If I hadn't gotten hurt, you wouldn't have had to protect me."

I let out a long sigh through my nose. I didn't think that getting through to him would be this bloody hard. Why is he making this so hard on me?

"Why are you acting like this?" I ask.

"Because I'm bloody worthless." My dad says.

"Stop saying things like that!" I shout.

My dad cringes at my tone.

'Maybe now I'll get through to you.' I think.

"You are not worthless, and you're certainly not a failure!"

"Melissa…" My dad says.

"What does it take to get that through your thick skull?" I ask.

My dad sits up and stares at me, not really answering me.

"Well?"

"Get out." My dad growls.

"No." I say.

"I said get out."

"Make me."

My dad grabs the collar of my shirt with his left hand. He stares a me for a moment, then starts to cry. He lets me go and puts his head in his hands.

"I'm trying to help you." I say.

"I don't need help." My dad sobs.

"Yes, you do."

My dad says nothing and continues to cry.

'Please, let me help you.' I think.

"I don't want any help." My dad mumbles.

"And I don't want to tell AJ his grandfather is dead." I say.

"And I don't want to tell RJ his dad died." Ellie says.

My dad lets out a long sigh in response to that.

"I'm here to help if you let me." I say.

"Robert, honey, let us help you."

"I don't want help." My dad quietly says.

"Do you really want to die?" I ask.

"Yes."

"Are you sure that's what you really want?"

My dad gives a shake of his head as an answer.

"So, what's the truth?"

"I don't want to die because I have too much left to teach RJ." My dad says.

"Then let us help you." I say.

"Fine." My dad grumbles.

For the first time since I got here, it seems like I'm finally getting through to him. Maybe he'll finally listen to what we have to say to him. Maybe he'll finally get the help he needs.