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Fear. It was all-consuming, burning through his veins with each ragged breath torn from his chest. It settled in his legs, making them feel impossibly heavy despite the fact he had to keep putting one foot in front of the other as quickly as he could. The child in his arms was whimpering, face buried in his neck as though hiding could change the brutal reality they were living. But nothing could change the truth - that they were being pursued by creatures that shouldn't exist - hunted like prey through the sticky jungle heat.
Keep moving. Must keep moving.
He could hear them at his heels between each panted breath, calling out to each other, coordinating their impending attack. What if he stopped - told the boy to run on without him? Would his frame be enough to satisfy the monsters, to distract them long enough for Tim to get away?
Tim. He had promised the kids that he wouldn't leave them. On this damned island, he was their protector - their lives were in his hands - and he continued to fail them. He had failed to protect Tim from dinosaurs, falls, and even a goddamn electric fence. His tiny, burned hands were clinging to his shirt for dear life.
Don't let them down again, Alan. Protect them.
Suddenly, a form jumped out of the bushes behind them, narrowly missing the back of his neck with snapping jaws. Tim let out a scream of terror, the sound piercing his ears.
"It's okay, kid." He lied - he could feel his energy waning. "It's gonna be okay."
Ahead of them, the jungle opened into a clearing, and whilst the rational part of his brain screamed that it was the perfect site for an ambush, he made a beeline straight for it. A large, rocky outcrop dominated the centre, and Alan deposited Tim on the lowest part, hand pushing him higher.
"Climb up, that's it. Good boy. Get up as high as you can."
He could hear their pursuers moving through the bushes, not yet breaking into the clearing. It was only a matter of time before they burst through. His heart was pounding in his chest, bile rising in his throat. Was this the end of the line? He looked up at Tim, balanced atop the rocks, and could feel the trust coming off him in waves. It broke his heart.
"You stay there, okay? You got it?"
"What?! No! You- you can't go - you promised!" He felt his heart break again.
"I'm sorry, Tim, it's the only way."
"Dad - no!" He turned his back to the boy, facing down his end.
Protect them, Grant.
The voice behind him called out again, quickly chorused by another as he took off in a run - back into the forest. "Daddy, please!"
Images of them flickered through his mind as leaves and vines cut at his face. Lex holding his hand, Tim's bright, toothy grin. Daddy! Two small forms tucked against him as they slept, secure and safe in his presence. Daddy, please. He could hear the calls now - Velociraptors vocalising to one another. They could have him if it meant the kids would live. Ellie would find them - he was sure of it. They would be safe with her.
"Daddy!"
Alan stopped in his tracks, head tilted as he listened. That voice was different - one he knew but from where? It wasn't shouting - it was - whispering? It was almost like a stage whisper right beside his ear. He whipped around, trying to find the source of the voice, but all he could see was jungle. And suddenly - teeth. So many teeth.
"Daddy?"
He awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright in the bed, sheets pooling in his lap. Immediately he grimaced - his sweat-soaked t-shirt was clinging to his body uncomfortably. One glance to his side revealed that his wife slumbered on despite his nightmare and he breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't often that Ellie would sleep through his thrashing, but he chalked it up to exhaustion. Their youngest was six months old and had not yet settled into a regular sleeping pattern, much to their dismay. Parenthood was proving to be the most exhausting experience of his life.
"Daddy?" There was that quiet voice again, and it almost made him jump.
"Hey!" His gaze landed on his son - three years old and quietly stood at his side of the bed. He was dressed in dinosaur-themed pajamas and clutched a teddy bear under one arm. "What are you doing out of bed, bud?"
"Bad dream." The boy mumbled, raising his teddy bear to his face.
Like father, like son.
"I'm sorry, buddy. Come here." He scooped up the boy as he stood, brushing a hand through his blonde mop. He really needed to cut it again soon - the kid grew hair in inches per week. "Let's leave Mommy sleeping and get some warm milk, yeah? That'll help you feel better."
If only recovery from his own nightmares was so easy.
His son nodded against his neck, and he couldn't help noticing the similarities between this moment and his dream. He had to remember that this was real life - his family was safe. Tim and Lex were safe, too. He pressed a kiss to the boy's head, grabbed the baby monitor from the bedside table, and padded out of the room.
"Night, mommy." A voice whispered from somewhere against his chest.
Alan navigated the dark house easily, pausing a few doors down from the bedroom to check in on the youngest Grant in her crib. The girl slept soundly, her little chest rising and falling steadily. The demons of his nightmare still lurked around every corner, mocking him from the shadows, but the steady breathing of his children was enough at that moment. Each breath was precious, and he refused to take any of them for granted.
"Night, baby." Another soft whisper against his chest as he pulled the door closed. He kissed the boy again - how the hell had he helped to produce such an incredible human being?
For years he had been against children as a concept - they were messy, expensive, often sticky and smelly. Not a single bone in his body was suited to Fatherhood, and he had never shied away from admitting that fact. But Ellie had worked her magic on him, forcing him to consider a future with a couple of Grant-lings running around. Being thrown in at the deep end on Isla Nublar had only cemented the decision. He was willing to try.
Almost four years and two children down the line, he felt like he was finally starting to get a handle on things.
He tried not to compare himself to Ellie, but there was no denying that she was a natural while he had to work at even the simplest things. Holding his children had been the biggest hurdle in the beginning. He was constantly afraid of hurting them - of being incapable of protecting them when they relied on him for every little thing. Ellie hadn't allowed that for long, though the habit had briefly reared its head again once their daughter was born. But now, holding them was second nature. They came to him for comfort, love and attention, and he relished every moment.
Father and son moved through the house in comfortable silence, both taking solace in the presence of the other. Alan flicked on one of the low lamps when he entered the kitchen, and carefully deposited the boy on the counter.
"Daddy-" Little hands grabbed his t-shirt, pulling when he moved to step away. Immediately he stepped up against the counter, cuddling the boy against his chest.
"It's all right, buddy. I'm only going to the fridge. Need to get the milk, okay?"
"Promise?"
"I promise."
"Okay."
Alan quickly gathered his supplies; milk, a pan, a spoon and a sippy cup. He placed them all on the counter beside his son and flashed him a reassuring smile. "See? Wasn't gone long, was I?"
The boy smiled in reply and nodded enthusiastically. "I help?"
"Of course!"
Together, they set the pan on the stove and measured three-quarters of a cup of milk into it. Alan took control of the spoon, warning the boy, not for the first time, about the dangers of the stove. But his son was smart as a whip - just like his Mother - he learned fast.
"So, wanna talk about it?"
He knew how to deal with Ellie's nightmares and, to a certain degree, his own. But he had no experience with children and what haunted their dreams. No, that wasn't entirely correct. He had no experience with children this young. Lex's nightmares in the brief time they spent together would stay with him until the end of his days.
"Dunno.." The little boy mumbled, blue eyes watching the spoon move around the pan.
"Might make you feel better." He nudged him gently.
"Okay. I try."
"Good boy." He stuck a finger in the milk to test the temperature and, judging it warm enough, poured it into the cup. "Here. We can talk on the couch."
Once again, Alan carried his son, a comfort for both Grants in the darkness of the night. He turned the lamp off as they passed and settled down on the couch, his son in his lap, baby monitor on the coffee table.
"Do you remember what happened?"
"Yes. We were playing. With dinos!" He pointed at the cartoon stegosaurus on his pajama leg. "The doorbell dinged. Then daddy-"
Alan frowned at the change in the boy's tone - he could tell he was getting upset. He cuddled him tight, resting his chin atop his little head. "It's okay, buddy. I'm right here."
"But, daddy gone."
The wavering tone and tears soaking into his shirt made his heart ache. It was one thing for he and Ellie to fear losing each other after what they had been through, but no little kid should have to dream of such terrors. Not Lex, not Tim, and definitely not his son.
Words echoed from his nightmare - protect them .
"No, I'm right here. Nothing will ever take me away from you - not even dinosaurs." He had never meant anything more in his life. Whilst he was referring to the living, breathing creations that now roamed a small portion of this earth, he would give up palaeontology in a heartbeat if it meant never seeing his son cry again.
Cuddled against his father's chest, a reassuring hand stroking up and down his back, the boy eventually stopped sniffling and started to drift off, back to sleep. Alan grabbed the cup before it spilt and placed it on the coffee table nearby.
"I love you, buddy. I'll be right here when you wake up."
--
Sunlight was just starting to peek under the curtains, rousing Ellie from her deep sleep. With a groan, she rolled over, only to find the spot beside her empty. Her hand smoothed over the cool sheets - he had been gone for a while, then. A glance to his bedside table told her it was still early and that, wherever her husband was, he had taken the baby monitor with him.
It wasn't uncommon these days for her to wake alone in their bed. Since their daughter was born, Alan had tried his hardest to alleviate extra pressure on her by designating himself as the night watchman for their daughter. He insisted on doing every night feeding and every diaper change, and whilst she appreciated what he was trying to do, she missed waking up to his warm body wrapped around her.
Their son's penchant for waking up at ungodly hours didn't help the situation either. Both of her children had certainly inherited their father's ability to be a morning person. Was it unfair to ask that just one of them enjoyed lie-ins as much as she did?
With a heavy sigh, Ellie hauled herself out of bed and grabbed her robe, ready to face the morning.
She could hear her daughter's soft coos before she entered the nursery. Fully expecting to find Alan standing over the crib, she pushed the door open slowly to catch the two of them together. But she was ultimately disappointed when all she revealed was an empty expanse and a slightly bored infant.
"Huh." She reached down to her daughter, smiling as the girl instantly grabbed onto two fingers. "Where's your daddy, little one?"
The baby just shoved her Mother's fingers in her mouth in response. "Hmm, about as good at conversation as he is."
The baby fit snugly in her arms, cuddling against her as Ellie continued her search through the house. It quickly became apparent that their son wasn't in bed either, but she couldn't hear any sounds of the two in the house. It was still a little early for them to be playing outside.
She could feel that fear beginning to grow, priming her limbs, getting ready to explode should she need to fight or fly. The baby fussed against her chest as though she sensed her Mother's mood shift. She took a few deep breaths and managed to quash the worst of it. There was nothing to be concerned about - they were probably playing hide and seek or some other quiet game.
What games are completely silent, Ellie?
She ignored the traitorous whispers in her mind, checking the bathroom and spare room for any signs of life. Nobody else upstairs.
"I am sure they are just making breakfast for us. Sometimes cooking doesn't include setting off the smoke alarm."
The baby cooed at the sound of her Mother's voice, then promptly shoved a fistful of blonde hair in her mouth. Ellie pulled the hair free and gave the girl her finger instead.
The downstairs of their home was just as quiet as the floor above. It was almost silent - except for the sound of a ticking clock and the morning activity of their neighbors. Then, she heard it, a soft snore from the direction of their living room.
The sight that greeted her was something she had dreamed of since the very early days of their relationship.
Alan was asleep on the couch, spread out on his back, snoring lightly. Atop him was their son, sprawled in a similar manner across his father's chest, his teddy bear clutched in one hand. One large, calloused hand rested protectively across the boy's back.
God, she wished she had a camera. Could she make it to the office and back without waking them? She shook her head, unwilling to risk it.
Just enjoy it.
Once upon a time, Ellie was sure that she would never have this life. When she first fell in love with the enigmatic Dr Alan Grant, she had known that having a future family with the man would be an uphill battle. She had always wanted the American dream, as cliched as it was, and she wanted it with him. Every day she counted her lucky stars that she had gotten this chance.
Alas, while she could watch her boys for as long as they stayed asleep, her daughter had a different idea and started to fuss after too long stationary. She hushed the baby and took her to the play mat, placing her down amongst the hanging toys. That would keep her amused until she demanded some breakfast.
Ellie settled on her knees beside the couch and gently cupped her husband's rough cheek. He flinched ever so slightly beneath the touch, eyes blinking a few times before focusing on her face. A smile spread across his face, mirroring her own.
"Morning, sleeping beauty."
"Mornin'" His voice was sleep roughened and undeniably sexy. He turned his head, and she felt his lips press a kiss on her palm.
"Did you two sleep well?"
"Hmm. We had a bad dream." He explained and she looked at their sleeping son, immediately concerned.
"What? Is he all right?" She brushed her fingers through her son's blonde hair - matching her own. "Wait, did you say we?"
Oh, he had that guilty look on his face, the one that said I've been caught . How did she manage to sleep through it?
"We can talk about it later. Promise." She knew that he meant it and she couldn't help her smile. He had come a long way in just a handful of years. "I should get this little guy up to his bed. I told him I'd be there when he woke."
"Well, you'd best be there, then. I'll sort out some breakfast."
She moved to stand up but was stopped by a tug on her robe. Alan had caught hold of her and pulled her down for a kiss, one she happily gave him. In fact, they became distracted for several minutes, exchanging soft, lazy kisses.
"Mmm, that's enough, or you'll never get moving." She muttered, gripping his chin and pushing him away. He only laughed, and the movement cause their son to stir. "Go, shoo!"
The couple separated as their son opened his eyes. They didn't stay that way for long as Alan got up from the couch, encouraging the little boy back to sleep again. There was nothing quite as heartwarming as watching her husband carry their tired little boy up the stairs, father muttering softly to his son as he walked. He paused at the top of the stairs and winked down at her, flashing that half grin saved for her.
She was a lucky woman.