Chapter Text
“I’m still so sore,” Claire whined playfully, sitting on the end of the bed clad in gray sweatpants and a lacy white pajama top. She rubbed at her left foot, working over her aching tendons with her thumb and forefinger.
“Let me help you with that,” Owen emerged from the bathroom, teeth freshly brushed and hair still damp from the shower. He grinned flirtatiously as he took up a place beside her, gently replacing her delicate hand with his larger, firmer one and beginning to knead and rub the soles of her feet. Claire hissed sharply, eyes fluttering shut and she let out a faint mewl of appreciation as he worked the tension out of her aching extremities.
“Did they teach you how to do that in the Navy, too?” she asked jokingly between sharp intakes of breath, reclining on the bed as he continued his ministrations.
“Nope. This is something I figured out all on my own,” he laughed.
Claire pulled away coquettishly. “Apparently you haven’t figured out any non-cheesy ways to flirt though.”
Owen threw his hands up in the air tauntingly. “If you want me to stop…”
“No, no,” she pulled his hands back toward her. “Stick to what you’re good at,” she giggled.
The TV was mostly just background noise for both of them, turned on while she brushed her hair and applied moisturizer to her face and Owen waited patiently in bed for her.
“It was the right move, bringing them here for the weekend,” she declared, flopping down beside him. He pulled her closer and she snuggled into his side, pulling the blanket up over the both of them. There was an old, faded war flick on. He turned the volume even lower. Her eyes passed over the screen but didn’t process anything beyond the pale glow that illuminated both her and Owen’s faces.
Owen pressed a kiss to her cheek, inhaled the faint, flowery scent of her shampoo. “Hate to say I told you so,” he gloated playfully.
“It’s just been so long since we’ve had a real, good day, you know? I texted Karen some pictures of the boys on the slopes and she told me it’s the first time she’s seem them genuinely smiling in weeks. And who knows when we’ll have this again with all the legal proceedings starting Monday. Neela sent me five emails so far. I haven’t opened any of them…”
Owen sensed the tension starting to course through every fiber of her being and decided to interrupt it with by pressing a kiss to her lips. She tensed up at first in surprise but quickly melted into the contact as soon as it registered. He pulled away well before she was ready. “We may still be at home but as far as I’m concerned we’re on vacation. And there’s no work allowed on vacation,” he scolded her with mock severity.
“Force of habit,” she pouted teasingly.
“Just think,” Owen took on a more wistful tone. “Couple of months from now this mess’ll be behind us and it’ll be summer…We can barbecue. Pitch a tent. Have the boys over. We’ll get that hammock you wanted and it’ll be like none of this ever happened.”
“Except when I go to work every morning and remember who my employer is…”
“So quit! You don’t have to stay if working at Masrani is gonna make you miserable.”
Claire snorted. “After all the attention this has gotten me? Where would I go?”
“Anywhere you want!” Owen insisted. “The university’s gonna pay me well. We’ll make it.”
“I thought we weren’t supposed to talk about work,” she said, playfully redirecting the conversation.
“That’s right,” he agreed. “So what should we talk about?”
She rolled over completely so that she was straddling him. “I was thinking we could do a little less talking,” she teased, delicate fingers slowly tracing circles on his chest over his shirt.
He quirked a brow. “I thought you were sore?” he questioned cheekily, hands finding their way to her hips, slowly pulling down the waistband of her pants in a way that still made her blush.
“What can I say, Mr. Grady? You have a magic touch.”
It was well past two AM and Claire was fully aware of the fact that she should be asleep. Instead she was reclining against Owen, listening to the steady drum of his heartbeat, feeling the even rise and fall of his bare chest against her still-flushed cheek. Work had been keeping her up these past few weeks but the dilemma had always had to do with fulfilling her responsibilities. It had never been about questioning her career altogether.
Work had been her life for so long that the idea of leaving it seemed both foreign and frightening. Even after all that had happened. She had stayed at Masrani Global, accepted the new title and role of Executive Director of Corporate Operations despite the notoriety the company had gained and its uncertain financial future.
She had, however, refused to move to San Diego, wanted to stay close to family, to appease both her sister and her mother, neither of whom would ever forgive her if, after all that had happened, she decided to settle across the country. So she dragged Owen back to the Midwest, managed to convince Masrani Global that she could be just as valuable and productive working remotely from home, that in ways it was a better arrangement because the last thing corporate headquarters needed was yet another reason for angry picketers to stand outside the lobby.
They moved into this house in the middle of the woods to satisfy Owen’s desire for tranquility but the fact remained that Owen had uprooted his life, come here, accepted Wisconsin-Madison’s offer to join their zoology staff under the impression that this place was home for the long haul. All because of her work. No. She was going to work. She was going to weather this storm like she had weathered every other and when Masrani emerged on the other side, maybe her loyalty would be rewarded. At the very least, she wasn’t about to give this up no matter how many times she wanted to shred every last media inquiry, every last subpoena, every last legal document that kept her wrapped up in this disaster.
And with that settled, she rolled over in bed, pulled the sheet up to her shoulders. The house was silent save for Owen’s gentle snores and Blue’s occasional twitching from her place on the floor by the foot of the bed. Owen had released the dog as soon as Gray had gone up to bed. The woman was just beginning to nod off when she heard a short, sharp cry that made her sit bolt upright. The dog stood up, tilted her head to one side and eyed her curiously. There were footsteps in the hall, coming toward her room, and Claire was out of bed in a second, pulling her fleece robe tight about her. Owen stirred but didn’t wake up. The creaking floorboards ended abruptly at Gray’s room and she knew, tiptoeing toward the door so as not to disturb her sleeping boyfriend. She opened the bedroom door slowly and crept out into the hall. Gray’s door was ajar and Zach’s wide open, confirming her suspicions. She entered the room softly but swiftly and saw Zach sitting on the edge of Gray’s bed trying to comfort him. They locked eyes and she stopped, silently entreating permission to trespass into the space. Her nephew nodded as if to affirm she could stay.
The night terrors had been such a common occurrence post-Jurassic World that by now, Zach automatically woke up between two and three to check on his little brother. More often than not, he would find the boy tossing, turning, whimpering. Or Gray’s screaming would send him running. Tonight had been one of the worst in a while. He found the boy rolling over and over in bed, screaming “Zach” or “Aunt Claire,” the same cries that had brought their aunt rushing into the room.
Gray was half asleep, clutching at the bedsheets until Zach climbed onto the bed and gently rolled the boy toward him, at which point Gray instinctively clutched at his brother’s shirt instead.
“Shhh,” the elder brother soothed, brushing Gray’s sleep-mussed hair from his face and holding him close, rocking him back and forth as if her were lulling an infant. “I’m right here, Gray. I’ve got you.” The boy squirmed in Zach’s arms for a bit as the residual fear of the nightmare subsided and between the gentle rocking and Zach’s soothing murmurs, he was soon pacified. His breathing became deeper and less ragged as he slowly returned to slumber. Claire timidly laid a hand on Gray’s shoulder like she was afraid he would shatter if she applied too much pressure. He didn’t so much as stir. They stayed there like that—the three of them—for a long while until Zach was sure his brother was fully asleep once more. He gently lowered Gray back onto the mattress, tugging the covers up over him once more.
Claire smiled at her older nephew and motioned for him to follow her into the hallway. He followed with once last glance behind him to make sure Gray was alright.
“Gray’s really lucky,” she told him in a hushed voice, barely able to make out his tall form in the dim hall, illuminated only by the half-moon filtering in through the windows and skylight. “To have a big brother who’s always watching out for him.”
Zach tried to deflect it. “He’s been through a lot. Any brother would—“
“No,” Claire shook her head. “No, not any brother. A good brother, Zach. A really good brother. And I’m proud of you. Don’t tell her I told you, but your mom said the only thing that’s kept her sane through all of this is knowing that Gray has you to keep him safe when she’s not around. She says you’re his guardian angel.”
“He needs me,” the teen answered as if it were really that simple. “And I need him. We’re brothers. I’m not gonna let him down.” Gray had had enough let-downs in his short life. And Zach knew that before Isla Nublar, he probably wouldn’t have cared. But the truth was, they really did need each other.
His aunt hugged him tightly and from the way she sniffled he could tell she was trying desperately not to cry. “Keep looking out for him,” she admonished, eyes glassy.
“I promise,” Zach affirmed, turning back toward the room he was sleeping in but stopping short. “Actually, I think I’m gonna…you know,” he jerked a thumb in the direction of Gray’s door, “sleep in there tonight.”
Claire nodded, smiled to herself as she slowly turned around and returned to her bed, to Owen, clambered in beside him. He instinctively edged closer to her in his sleep and she allowed his arms to envelop her as she shut her eyes.
A sudden clattering downstairs shook Claire from sleep. Owen rolled over beside her.
“Honey, the kids are up,” he chuckled.
Claire’s bleary eyes found the alarm clock on her nightstand, the blocky red digits reading 9:14. “Too early,” she murmured.
“They’re your kids,” Owen teased, pawing at her arm childishly.
“They like you better,” she shot back.
“That’s not true,” he answered and this time his tone was completely serious. “They love you.” There was a pause, then he added, “and I love you,” stealing a quick kiss from her lips that made her grin. Another clattering sound, this time accompanied by a sharp yelp, cut the moment short.
“I’ll go see what they’re up to,” she slowly rose from the mattress, swinging her bare feet over the side of the bedframe and pulling her robe tight about her, cinching it at the waist as she padded down the stairs.
Gray was standing wide-eyed and stock still by the kitchen sink, water all over the counter and some on the floor as well. The faucet was still running. Claire’s eyes darted from her nephew to the dog that was curiously sniffing and nuzzling his leg. She had to put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile.
“Blue, c’mon,” she called the dog. Blue peered at the woman through the shaggy fur that shielded her eyes from view. The canine sat by the boy’s feet, tail thumping against the wood floor and tongue hanging out of her mouth.
“Blue,” Claire put her hands on her hips and tried to do her best Owen impersonation. “Let’s go. Leave poor Gray alone.”
Gray eyed the dog cautiously and swore the animal was smiling at him. “N-no. It’s okay,” he said bravely. “B-blue can stay.” The dog began sniffing at his ankle, her wet nose slipping under his pant leg and simultaneously making him flinch and laugh.
“Okay,” his aunt laughed, shutting the tap off. “If you’re alright with it then I guess Blue can stay. I think she likes you.” The woman crossed the kitchen and tore a paper towel off the roll, wiping at the soaked countertop.
“I was trying to wash the dishes,” he said simply by way of apology.
Claire smiled appreciatively, hugged him around the shoulders to avoid the enormous water spot on the front of his shirt. “That was very sweet of you, baby,” she said. “But I can take it from here.” She picked up a half-scrubbed whisk, batter caked on it from the previous night’s breakfast-for-dinner that she was still full from. “Where’s your brother?” she asked.
“Still sleeping,” Gray shrugged, taking a seat on a barstool. Blue hopped up on her hind legs, just barely able to reach the boy who, though still wary, was more receptive to her antics.
“Then it looks like it’s just us,” she said, stuffing the last of the plates into the dishwasher, having quickly grown overwhelmed with the hand-washing. “What do you want for breakfast?”
Gray shrugged, gingerly patting Blue on her head, causing the dog to redouble her efforts for attention.
“I have an idea,” his aunt suggested, a sly smirk spreading across her lips. “Since we had breakfast for dinner last night, why don’t we have dinner for breakfast?”
“Dinner for breakfast?” Gray cocked his head to one side.
“Uh-huh,” Claire opened the massive freezer and began rummaging around inside until she found what she was looking for, drawing out two boxes of frozen pizza. “I would order in but I know for a fact there are no pizza places open this early. Guess frozen will have to do.”
“Pizza for breakfast?” the boy’s eyes lit up. “Mom would never let us have pizza for breakfast!”
Claire looked him dead in the eye. “And that is why you can’t tell her. Ever,” she said with mock severity, turning to pre-heat the oven. “Now who do you think will come down first when they smell food? Zach or Owen?”
“Why did no one think of this before?” Zach exalted, as if pizza for breakfast were the pinnacle of human achievement.
“Just wait till you get to college,” Owen deadpanned. “No better cure for a hangover.” Claire swatted his arm lightly with her free hand, sending crumbs cascading down to the floor. She was surprised when Blue didn’t leap at the fallen morsels, opting instead to sit at Gray’s feet by the couch. The boy dropped a piece of pepperoni for her every so often, which seemed to solidify the canine’s affection.
“So what should we do today, guys?” Claire asked between bites, relishing the greasiness and saltiness and the stringiness of the cheese and the sauce dripping into her palm, threatening to stain her pants. She had been good about avoiding junk food but this momentary lapse in self-discipline was so rewarding.
“It’s our last day,” Gray said glumly, the realization dawning on him. His aunt winced. They had been having so much fun. And now it was Sunday. The weekend felt too short and she wished she could’ve had them for the week. Not that they would’ve been able to spend much time together with the storm she was about to walk into tomorrow. She exchanged a glance with Owen, glanced at Zach who had become very quiet, frowning into the holes and bumps in his pizza crust. Gray was resting his head in one hand, eyes searching the pattern of the wood floor. The mood in the room had plummeted.
Owen finished his slice and clapped his hands together. “Alright, guys, it might be our last day but we’ve still got a couple hours left! There’s a pond out back just past the wall. Totally frozen over. We can go ice skating. What d’ya say?”
Claire latched onto the idea, grateful her partner had thought of something. “I think that’s a great idea!” she said brightly, standing up and brushing the remaining crumbs from her body. Blue rose, paced circles around her, making sure to get every last piece and then returning to her previous place by the couch.
“We don’t have any skates,” Zach pointed out.
“Like we didn’t think of that?” Owen laughed. “We thought of everything when we bought the place. We gotcha covered.”
The wind whipped up flakes of snow, blowing it stingingly against their faces as they approached the pond, skates in hand. Claire had been right about the boys’ shoe sizes, remembering them from when she had to buy them new ones in San Jose immediately after the Isla Nublar incident. Owen was amazed when he considered that two months ago she couldn’t even remember their ages. They paused to lace the skates to their feet at the pond’s edge. The boys rose to their feet as Owen helped Claire stand. Zach took in the sight of the shallow, frozen body of water and hesitated.
“Nothing to worry about,” Owen assured him. “Went out there myself earlier just to make sure. Frozen solid.”
“That’s not it,” Zach shook his head, stopping short in a shin-deep snow drift. Three pairs of eyes were fixed curiously on him and he could feel the tips of his ears burning bright red despite the cold.
You’re sixteen. Don’t be a baby.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Claire asked but the teen remained frozen for a moment, swallowing hard.
He felt ashamed, like he was letting his aunt, Owen, Gray down. He didn’t want to admit that the pond reminded him a little too much of the Mosasaurus enclosure. Even if they knew, he was sure none of them would react the same way.
Claire and Owen had arrived on Main Street too late to witness what he had witnessed. And Gray had kept his head down, too wrapped up in escaping the pteranodons to see Zara being carried off, screaming as she was dropped to her death in that awful tank. They didn’t know that his nightmares consisted of that moment, of all the moments in which he failed to rescue someone. Or he almost failed. They didn’t know that he could still hear Zara’s desperate cries. And while Claire had been devastated when she learned of her assistant’s untimely death (“it’s my fault” and “she was getting married” repeated like a mantra as she sobbed and fell to her knees as Owen cradled her in his arms), only Zach had seen her die. And it wasn’t Claire’s fault. He had been the one to convince Gray to make a break for it. He had been the one who forced Zara to go looking for them. If they had just stuck with her, she would probably have gotten them all to safety before the pterosaur attack. She would probably still be alive. But he couldn’t bring himself to explain all of that right here and right now, so he just froze and stared and fought down the panic, the manic heartbeat, the shallow breaths that would cause him to hyperventilate if he let them.
Gray slipped his gloved right hand into his older brother’s left, gripping it firmly. “Do you trust me?” the boy whispered. Zach appeared startled for a moment, then slowly nodded. His aunt reached for his right hand, squeezed it, locked eyes with Gray as Owen took hold of her free hand and slowly the chain of four stepped out onto the icy pond.
Zach kept his eyes fixed on the ice and tried to convince himself that yes, he could do this. It was just ice skating. Nothing was going to emerge from the depths of the frozen water. Nothing was going to get him. He was tense during the first circuit of the pond, allowing Gray, Aunt Claire, and Owen to pull him along like he had done for Gray the previous day on the mountain. But by the second pass, his heart rate had started to come down and he shut his eyes, let himself feel the cold wind blowing against his face and it almost felt enjoyable. The first snowflake hit his nose—a chilly tingle that quickly faded and when he looked up, there were downy white flakes drifting down toward him.
It was that exact moment that Owen lost his balance and flopped onto the ice with a surprised cry, hand still connected to Claire’s and starting a domino effect. Claire went down, causing Zach to lose his balance and he dragged Gray after him, skidding a few feet on the slick surface. By the time he came to a stop and realized he wasn’t hurt, everyone was in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. The snow coated their parkas, hats, hair, eyelashes and the seats of their pants soaked from the ice. Zach wished there was a way to just stay in that moment, in that feeling forever.
Owen set the steaming mugs of hot chocolate on the island in front of Claire and the boys, who were rubbing their numb hands together in an attempt to warm some feeling back into them.
“Hot cocoa,” he said, eyeing the piping hot beverages with satisfaction. “Ancient Grady family recipe.”
“Really?” Claire arched a brow dubiously as she wrapped both hands around the mug.
“No,” Owen shook his head with a mischievous grin. “It’s just Swiss Miss with whipped cream on top.”
She took a sip, coming away with some of said whipped cream on the tip of her nose and Owen stifled a laugh as he used the pad of his thumb to swipe the offending topping away.
“Not bad for hot chocolate that came out of a packet,” she teased, watching as Zach sipped from his mug and Gray downed the sweet drink, coming away with a whipped cream mustache and an impish grin that nearly made his older brother choke.
It was inevitable. All four told themselves it was inevitable as Owen chucked the bags in the trunk, as they climbed into the car, as Owen backed it out of the driveway, as they left the house behind. They had been having so much fun that they hadn’t thought about what would happen after. But as the house, the street, the woods retreated behind them and Owen merged the car onto the highway, it became increasingly apparent—and painful—that all good things had to come to an end. Zach and Gray were silent in the backseat, each brother staring blankly out the windows.
“Did you have fun?” Claire asked, more out of a need to make conversation than anything else. It was too quiet and she couldn’t stand the silence. The silence only made her think about the week to come, about how much better things would be if every day could be identical to this past weekend.
“Yeah,” Zach answered without much enthusiasm.
Gray’s shoulders slumped forward. “I don’t wanna go back,” he said. “I wanna stay with you guys! It’s close enough. I can still go to school!”
“I know, kiddo,” his aunt answered sympathetically. “But you guys are always welcome to come visit!”
She couldn’t imagine what it must be like for him, to be knowingly returning to a house that would feel so much emptier than before. Frankly, she would have been terrified were she in his position. She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to go back, for preferring a place that felt fuller, for lack of a better term. She didn’t know much about her sister’s personal life, about how she kept her house, but even she had picked up on the deflated energy about the house from the moment she walked in. Scott may not have been around much for his sons, but he was still their dad. And losing his presence in the home had to hurt for the boys.
“And there’s summer break,” Owen suggested brightly. The silence, the sadness was killing him. He hated to see his family like this. And Zach and Gray and Claire were his family. No matter what. “You guys can come stay with us. We’ll have all the time in the world.”
Claire tried to make small talk the rest of the way home, drawing out monosyllabic responses from Zach and sad peeps from Gray. By the time they pulled up in her sister’s driveway, her eyes were glassy.
The house felt empty, the weight of a failed marriage and a missing occupant palpable. Karen opened the door even before they had made their way up the front walk. She put on the sunniest expression she could muster as she greeted her sons, hugged each in turn, then did the same to her sister and her…well, he wasn’t really a brother-in-law but she always referred to Owen as such whenever he came up in conversation.
“How were they?” Karen asked once she had persuaded Claire and Owen to at least come inside and coaxed them out of their coats.
“Great,” Claire answered earnestly. “We’d love to have them back.”
Karen had aged. That was the first thing Claire noticed. Her hair was graying at the roots, deep-set bags and wrinkles forming on her face. She looked tired. Drained.
“How did it go?” she questioned, careful not to mention the word divorce. The truth was that she had never minded Scott the few times she met him in person. He was busy, a little cold, but he never seemed like a bad guy. Or a bad father, really. It wasn’t until Karen had told her of the divorce, of how Scott was always too wrapped up in work to pay attention to his kids, to her—it wasn’t until he had broken her sister’s heart that Claire started to hate him.
“As well as could be expected,” Karen responded. Zach ascended the stairs to his room, not wanting to hear anymore. Gray soon followed. “He finished moving out this morning. It was a clean break.” There was still a thinly-disguised note of pain in her voice and Claire decided she wouldn’t ask for more details.
“We should go,” Owen rose from the couch, not wanting to overstay their welcome. Claire stood with him.
“Won’t you stay for dinner?” Karen pleaded.
“We shouldn’t,” her sister answered. “The boys have school, we all have work…”
“Please,” Karen reached out, held her sister’s wrist gently and Claire understood why. “I made chili. Too much for just three of us.”
“Okay,” the younger sister answered with a smile.
They were a family of five for the evening, gathered around the dining room table and talking and laughing. Gray was excitedly recalling their snowboarding adventures, face animated with delight and Zach’s eyes lit up as he added his own details and Karen was positively glowing. And that was when it clicked. For Claire. For Owen. For Zach. For Gray. For Karen, who had spent the last two nights alone. This was home.