This is the final chapter to this story. Thanks to everyone who read it and I hope you liked it!
All favs, follows and reviews are still highly appreciated.

Claire could not believe Barry had managed to walk away unscathed from setting loose the T-Rex.
"How did you get away?" She asked incredulously.
Barry shook his head in disbelief at his own escape. "I honestly don't know."

"The Indominus? Is it… dead?" Zach asked carefully. He and Gray had followed Claire over to Barry.
"Yes, it is." Barry smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way for the young boys.
"And what about the T-Rex?" Gray asked.
"It's alive," Barry admitted, "but you're safe here. It can't get to you."

Barry turned back to Claire. "How's Owen?"
"Hanging in there," she answered, "but I'm worried. He's been acting a bit strange. This all took a lot out of him."
Barry sadly shook his head. "It will get even worse when he learns the raptors are dead…"

Claire led Barry, Zach and Gray to where she had left Owen. Already from a distance she could see something was not right. The blankets were bundled up, the IV-line hung onto the floor, and the field bed was most definitely empty.

Claire ran the last few metres, panic gripping at her throat.
'Where is he?" Barry looked around, hoping to see Owen somewhere nearby. The confusion and a hint of fear were clear in his voice, and written all over his face.
"I-I don't know." Claire's voice was louder than she meant to and a pitch higher than usual.

"Don't worry." Barry immediately was all business. "We'll find him. He's still seriously injured, so he can't have gone far. We should go look for him."
Claire nodded weakly. "Stay here," she said to Zach and Gray, "keep an eye out for him, maybe he just comes back within a few minutes."
"I'll search among the other survivors in here," Barry instructed Claire, "you look for him outside."

Claire quickly trotted outside onto the quay, looking left and right for Owen.
"Owen!" She hoped he would simply answer her, but everything remained quiet.
There weren't many lights on at the docks, so it was difficult for her to distinguish much other than shapes and silhouettes.
She randomly picked a side, and ran a few hundred metres that way, until she was certain Owen had never managed to get that far. She had not left him alone for long and he was still injured, so he would not have been able to move fast or far.

Claire sighed miserably, looking around in the darkness for any kind of movement.
"Owen!" She yelled again, but still no response was given.
She turned around and ran back the same way she had come. This time passing by the entrance to the hangar and running to the other side of it.
She had only run about 300 metres, when her eyes were caught by a silhouette to her left.

There, sitting on the edge of the quay, was Owen.

Claire approached him a little hesitantly. "Owen?"
She was uncertain why he sat here. Had his wounds caused him to tire and was he simply sitting here to rest? Or was this some strange attempt of escaping?

"Hey, Claire." Owen spoke absentmindedly. He sat staring out over the water, his eyes fixed on some point in the darkness.
Claire silently sat down next to him on the edge of the quay, their feet dangling just above the waterline.
Owen was still dressed the way she had left him in the hospital bed: only jeans and socks, no shoes and shirt. He sat slightly hunched over, clearly still experiencing discomfort from his wounds. Claire cast a short look at his back, and was relieved to see the bandages still in place, and no sign he had bled through them or ripped his sutures.

"You're going to be cold." Claire lightly touched Owen's upper arm to feel his skin.
"I'm alright," Owen mumbled, "this is the tropics, remember? I never get cold here."
The way he spoke made a chill run down Claire's spine. The words were probably meant to be breezy, but they sounded strained and choked. Like he was trying too hard to control his voice and posture.

Claire truly looked at Owen's face now. There was unbelievable hurt etched into his features, and for a split-second she thought she saw the reflection of a single tear-track running down his cheek.
"You're not alright!" She cried out desperately, "why won't you just tell me what is wrong?! Ever since we're here tonight, you've been acting strange. Let me help you deal with it."

Owen bit his lower lip, silently deciding what he would do. He sat like that for a few seconds, before sighing deeply and shaking his head. "I can't."
Claire slammed her hands into the stones of the quay. "No," she said firmly, "you're going to tell me. Right now! Something is not right, and you are going to tell me what it is!"
She could feel tears begin to sting in her eyes at her powerlessness to just make Owen talk to her.

The corner of Owen's mouth twitched into a faint smile at Claire's sudden perseverance. "You've really started to care, haven't you?"
"Yes." Claire made no attempt to hide it. "And that's why I'm worried about you."
Owen took a deep breath, but remained silent. Claire felt her spirits sink in again. He was never going to tell her what was on his mind, and she had to admit that it stung her.

Claire and Owen remained silent for a while, both of them staring off in the dark distance. Clarie seized her attempts to make Owen talk, and just sat silently with him.

Suddenly, after what felt like an hour, Owen took a deep breath and he spoke.
"You probably know that I was in the Marines." His words were soft, but strained.
"I do," Claire answered a little hesitantly. Was this it? Was he finally going to open up to her?

"A couple of years ago we were on a mission," Owen began, "we were to rescue some American soldiers out of the hands of Southern American terrorists. Their location was surrounded by water and only accessible by boat. We knew it was a tough assignment to break through their defences, but…" Owen fell silent, passing a hand over his face. Claire was about to say something when he started speaking again.

"They ambushed us," Owen continued, "their gunmen and snipers were at completely different spots than our intelligence told us, and… they knew we were coming."
"You got set up." Claire concluded.
"Absolutely," Owen nodded, "our team consisted of 25 men, but we were reduced to five by the time we reached the shore. That is where they shot and killed another three of us."
Claire gasped audibly. Silent tears started to roll down her cheeks now. "They killed everyone?"

"By that time only me and my friend Sebastian were still alive." Owen's voice grew darker. "We could see the entire village burning from the shore, and we knew everyone had been killed: our men, the prisoners…"
Claire looked mortified. "Did you get away?"
"Seb and I, we…we made a run for it. We ran back into the water, trying to get back to our boat, but that was when they got Seb…. He was shot in the lower back, paralysing his legs instantly. I went to help him, but… that was when I got hit as well." Owen absentmindedly ran a hand over the front side of his left shoulder. Claire could see a scar there she had never really noticed before, and did not have to ask where the bullet had hit him. "Did the terrorists capture you?"
Owen nodded. "We were thrown into a cell without any daylight. We were given food and water only once a day…"
Owen had to swallow hard a few times before he could continue. "It took Seb three days to die, and I watched every excruciating second of it... My own wound got infected badly, causing blood poisoning. By the time another rescue operation found us, five days later, I was more dead than alive."

Claire gasped. "Oh my God, that's so awful."
She carefully placed an arm around Owen's shoulders. She had expected him to pull away, but he didn't. If anything, he even slightly leaned into her arm.
Owen rested his face in his hands. "The medical team, they managed to save my life, but… as soon as I was discharged from their care I turned in my resignation. I could not handle another mission." A soft sob escaped him and he fell silent.

"Ah! You must find me so weak now!" Owen suddenly blurted out, raising his head from his hands to once again stare into the darkness.
"No, of course not!" Claire grabbed Owen's chin to make him look at her. "You lost your friend, and you almost died yourself. You went through a very traumatic experience, and it's only natural that you're having trouble dealing with it. You have nothing to be ashamed of."
"Seb was my best friend," Owen said softly, "we did the academy together, and we had two tours together before that final one. You could never find one without the other."
The ghost of a smile flashed over his face at the memory of better days. "Tonight's events just took me back to that and it broke me all over again. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before."
"It's okay." Claire soothingly rubbed circles over the top of his shoulders. "I'm just glad that you told me now. Hopefully it made you feel a bit better, too."
Owen nodded slowly. "Yeah, it did."

Claire felt so much compassion for Owen now, but she knew she could not even begin to understand his pain. She thought about how she had always found him cocky and so self-aware, but tonight she had seen a whole other side of him. A side that showed that, beyond everything, he was just a man of flesh and blood. A man who could be broken.

Claire felt Owen shiver slightly under her arm still around his shoulders.
"Come on, let's get you back inside," she said softly. She helped Owen get back to his feet, which wasn't an easy task with his wound still restricting his movements.

"Claire!" A voice suddenly sounded out of the darkness.
"Over here!" Claire yelled back, recognizing Barry's voice.
"Thank God, you found him!" Barry came sprinting in their direction, and immediately offered Owen his shoulder for support. "Mon ami, don't ever scare us like that again."
"You got away." Owen ignored Barry's reprimand.
"I did," Barry smiled rather proudly, "I set the T-Rex loose, just like you said, and it killed that damn Indominus. I must say, that was some crazy plan, man!"
Owen chuckled, the first real chuckle of the evening. "Nice job making it work."

"Owen…" Barry began, mustering up the courage for what he was about to say. "The raptors– they're… they're dead."
The short moment of joy disappeared from Owen's face in a heartbeat. "All of them?"
"Blue survived, but she's injured," Barry answered honestly, "and even if she recovers from her wounds…"
"Being without her pack is likely to kill her," Owen finished the sentence for Barry.

Claire gently squeezed Owen's shoulder. She knew what the raptors meant to him. It was clear from Owen's expression that he was dealt another emotional blow, but she decided not to mention it right now.

Owen took a deep breath and looked up at the starry sky. "What do we do now?"
"We get everyone off this island, lock it and throw away the keys," Barry said determinedly, "the first ferries will be arriving soon. I'm going to see what I can do to help prepare the evacuation."

"So, what do we do?" Owen turned to Claire. Her arm now rested around his waist. He tried to wrap an arm around her shoulders, but his wounds prevented him from lifting his arm that high, so instead he chose to hold her hand. "I believe this leaves us both without a job."
"I say we stick together." For the first time Claire dared to admit to herself that she had fallen in love with Owen.
Owen nodded, satisfied with her answer. "That sounds perfect." He could see his feelings for her were answered. "We stick together. For survival."