1 Year and 7 Months Ago

11-year-old Gray Mitchell allows his baby blue eyes to slowly flutter shut as his head lies in his older brother's lap, Zach absently tangling his fingers through his golden curls. He's exhausted physically and mentally from the amount of stress he had taken on during the park, and the fact that he hasn't had any food or water does not help in the slightest.

As Zach silently sits there on the rock-hard bench, he finds himself feeling very thankful that he's even alive, that Gray's even alive. He glances at his aunt placed on the edge of the seat with his younger brother's legs sprawled out across hers, and he chuckles softly but not loud enough for anyone to notice. He can't help but feel the anxious need to check all over his brother once more to make sure he's actually okay when Gray draws his knees up to his chest and pulls himself to a sitting position, resting his back against Zach's shoulder.

"Hey," Claire mutters, gently laying her hand on Zach's forearm. "Guys, it's your parents."

Gray quickly rises and is enveloped tightly in his mother's arms, Zach following to his dad. They all embrace in a close family hug, grateful to be together once again. "Let's go home, guys," Karen slightly pulls away, staring at her two sons that, through her point of view, look completely battered and beaten senseless. Perhaps they are.

As they step out into the light, the flashbacks instantly hit Gray, nearly knocking him off his dragging feet. Zach, with his agile reflexes, catches his brother and helps him stand up straight. He pats Gray reassuringly on the back as they closely trail behind their parents boarding the boat.

Once they reach their reserved room on the ferry, Zach flops down on the bed, and Gray quickly rushes to lie next to him. "Okay, boys. I think you two need to freshen up, so why don't you go use the bathroom to take a shower. I brought you both an extra change of clothes. Who's going first?" Karen replies flatly, holding up in each hand a selection of the boys' clothing.

Gray glances over at Zach for permission, assuming his older brother would want to go first. Zach shakes his head slowly and lays his arm across his eyes, blocking out the incredibly bright lights. "You go, Gray."

The 11-year-old shrugs, grabs the articles of clothing his mom stretches out to him, and speeds away to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He splays his blue hoodie and jeans out on the shut toilet lid as he begins to run the water in the shower, waiting patiently for it to turn warm before hopping in.

But, as soon as he touches that water—that nice, warm, crystal-clear water—the horrible flashes from the past flood his mind in uncontrollable heaps: Zach staring into his eyes on the edge of the cliff. Plunging to the balmy tropical water. Hiding from the Indominus as Zach pulls him further under. Gasping for his breath when he appears on the surface and feeling the panic creep slowly up his spine when his brother is nowhere to be seen. Once again locking eyes with Zach as they contemplate whether or not they're even still alive.

Gray hastily clutches onto the handrail on the other side of the shower and attempts to step out, but as he places his foot down on the edge of the beige tile, he hits a slick spot and is sent flying to the wet floor. He remains completely still for about 20 minutes, a light stream of blood trickling from his elbow.

He's tugging his blue hoodie over his head as someone knocks gently on the other side of the door. "Gray? Honey? Are you alright? You've been in there for a while now," the small voice—it turns out to be Karen's—is thoroughly laced with concern as Gray pops out from the bathroom, his old, horribly dirty clothes in hand. "Are you okay, sweetheart? What happened to your elbow? Oh my goodness, did you slip?"

Gray follows her gaze down to the open gash on his arm and then glances over at Zach to see that he has momentarily uncovered his eyes and is staring at him. "I uh… Yeah, I wasn't paying attention when I stepped out of the shower, and I hit a slick spot on the floor. It was pretty stupid." His voice has died down to a barely audible whisper by the last word, and he looks back at her, holding up the old clothes. "What do I do with these?"

Karen takes them from him and tosses them into a plastic grocery bag, letting it fall to the ground by the end of her and Scott's bed. "Zach?"—he glances up at her—"When you're done, your stuff goes in this bag. Okay?" She points her finger down at it, and Zach nods. "Alright. You boys are fine here by yourselves. I'm gonna find your dad, and we're going to get some food."

"Okay, Mom," Gray sighs faintly as he flops down on the fluffy bed. "I'll still be here when you come back."

Karen disappears through the doorway that leads to the hall, making sure to close it behind her.

"I'm gonna go take a shower; I'll be out in a minute, okay?" Zach says quietly, clutching his change of clothes in his left hand as he trudges to the bathroom.

"Yep," Gray responds softly, using both of his index fingers to rub his eyes. "Again, I'll still be here." Zach gently closes the door, and Gray can hear the water start to run. He shivers, flipping over on his side.

Soon enough, Zach reappears out into the middle of the room, and Gray watches him as he chucks his clothes into the bag. He plops down next to his little brother and nudges him to scoot over.

Gray instantly complies and turns over to face Zach, who gently runs his fingers over his arm.

"You didn't actually take a shower, did you?" he questions softly, feeling the microscopic clumps of dirt left on Gray's arm.

Gray gazes down at the cream-colored bed sheets before glancing back up at him. He slowly shakes his head, and Zach nods, understanding.

"I didn't either."

Gray's light blue eyes meet Zach's dark brown ones. "How did you know?"

Zach removes a piece of dirt from Gray's skin and holds it in front of his face. "Dude, there's still mud all over you. But it's fine. I know why you didn't. It happened to me, too."

Gray grins faintly as a small smile tugs at the corners of Zach's lips. "It all came rushing back on me, Zach. All at once. I had to get out of there, and I wasn't paying attention, so I stepped on some slippery spot."

Zach gently squeezes his forearm as Karen rushes in through the door, Scott trailing behind her. The two lug themselves to sit up.

"I got us all our own fried chicken platters and guess what, Gray! They're dinosaur shaped!" she exclaims cheerily, squealing audibly as she hands one to each brother.

The second she turns her back to talk to Scott, Gray gazes up at Zach with a look that says it all. I can't eat these! But I'm so hungry…

Zach opens the Styrofoam box and pulls a piece of the perfectly cooked golden chicken out; it is shaped like the Indominus in honor of Jurassic World's new 'attraction'. It's definitely in poor taste at this point.

He watches Gray's facial expressions switch between one another as his eyes widen. He grabs one of the chicken nuggets from his brother's platter and tears it into pieces. "Don't think about the shape, bro. Tear them up like I did if you need to, but just don't think about it."

Gray's anxious gaze darts back and forth between Zach and the food as Karen walks over and hands them each a paper cup filled with water.

Zach calmly sets his down on the nightstand without taking a second glance at it, but Gray stares down at the lucid liquid in the cup and tosses it in the air. The 16-year-old hastily jumps out of the way to dodge the falling water, and it all lands on Gray.

Karen's eyebrows furrow in confusion and apparent fury as Gray begins to break down, dripping and soaking wet. "Grayson James! What is wrong with you?"

He gazes down at the water causing his clothes to stick to his skin, and the memories, once again, fly through his brain. He collapses to the carpet a sobbing mess as the scenes flash through his head one by one.

Standing helplessly on the ground, unable to do a thing as Zara is carried away by the pterodactyls and dropped into the water. Watching the mosasaurus clamp its humongous jaws shut, swallowing both Zara and her captor. The Indominus Rex getting pulled under the incredibly dark depths of the tank, plunging to its dea-

"Someone gimme a towel!" he hears Zach shout anxiously as Karen stands over him, a scowl visible on her face.

Scott quickly grabs a white towel that had been hanging neatly on the rack by the TV, handing it to Zach.

Zach rushes to Gray's side and kneels down, unintentionally shoving Karen out of the way as he wraps the fluffy towel around his shoulders.

"Gray! What were you thinking?" Karen yells angrily, flailing her arms about the still air as Zach helps him stand up.

"C'mon, bro. You're okay," he says quietly, rubbing the towel around on Gray's skin and clothes to make him dry off faster. "Here, sit down." He backs his little brother up to the bed and lightly pushes him down, taking a seat next to him.

"What is going on?" Karen shouts, motioning to the empty paper cup sitting on the dark red carpet and the damp stains surrounding it.

"He was thinking about all the times he's almost died in water the past 24 hours!" Zach yells crossly, enveloping Gray tightly in his arms. "You need to back off, Mom! He's just scared!"

As Karen stands on the other side of the room, speechless, Scott grabs her shoulders and leads her to the bed. "Sit, Karen. Just calm down. Let Gray have a little time."

Zach pulls away from Gray and gently rubs his back in circles, the darkened blue fabric bunching up under his fingers. "You alright?"

Gray leans back into Zach's arms without uttering a peep as his mind begins to race. I can't drink water, I can't take a shower, I can't even LOOK at water… I'm gonna die.

Hey, guys, this is something I wrote about six years ago and have decided to reboot! I hope you all enjoy it. I will be updating Ready or Not soon as well :)