Work Text:
Things were finally starting to feel a little normal again.
Between transporting Bumpy and Smoothie, dealing with the state of the ranch, and trying to catch up with everything they'd missed during their adventures, the return to Texas had been exhausting for Yaz and Sammy both. Everything needed their attention, from their own relationship to the animals that had survived over a month without Sammy to all the other consequences of disappearing for so long.
Fortunately, the list of things to take care of was slowly dwindling. They'd alerted all their loved ones that they were still alive, and Sammy had managed to smooth over her absence with her boss and coworkers from the stables. They were talking more openly with each other, eventually coming to the agreement to try couple's counseling to help them more productively work on the issues that had threatened to drive them apart. And after a week of going around the ranch taking stock and fixing things up, they were finally starting to feel a bit more settled.
As a result, Yaz finally had the space in her mind to remember that she should probably check her email. Not that she regularly used it for important communication, but at the very least, she should get in touch with her college in Wyoming. With the island having ceased operation due to not being so dinosaur-free after all and Yaz having every intention to stay here in Texas, she needed to start the process of transferring her credits to a new school.
After breakfast that morning, when Sammy headed out to get the animals settled in their pastures, Yaz grabbed her laptop and went to the couch, prepared to start drafting an email. Before that, however, she figured she'd scroll through anything she'd missed, even though most of it was likely junk.
And it was. Mostly. Spam mail, advertisements, the expected notifications about classes being cancelled indefinitely. Only one subject line caught her attention; Memorial Service for Richard McCoy.
Yaz knew what it would say. That, for her own wellbeing, she shouldn't read it. She'd probably missed the memorial service anyway. But part of her felt like she owed something, and she clicked on it regardless.
Dear Campus Community,
As we all recover from the tragic events that occurred earlier this week, which resulted in the loss of several beloved members of our community, I would like to reach out to you all with a message from the family of Richard McCoy, who will be hosting an open memorial service on-
That was as far as Yaz got before she slammed the laptop shut, her eyes filled with tears. She knew Rich was dead, because she'd been there. She'd been right there, gripping his hand, trying desperately to pull him into Ben's van as he pleaded for her help, only for him to be snatched out of her grasp and swallowed right in front of her.
The scene came back to her very suddenly. The scream. The dinosaur's throat bobbing, trying to force him down. Swallowing him whole.
She almost wished it had just bitten down. Crushed him in its jaws and killed him instantly. Maybe it would have been worse to look at, but only if Yaz didn't actually think about it. The worst fate, by far, was being eaten alive and slowly suffocating within a dinosaur's body.
As if responding in belated sympathy, Yaz's chest began to tighten.
She and Rich hadn't even been all that close, at least by her definition. But he'd always been kind to her, going out of his way to make her feel comfortable and safe at group therapy. He was a good person. Someone she cared about. The fact that he'd slipped away from her, the fact that she had been his last hope of survival and she had failed him... it weighed so heavily on her that she could scarcely breathe.
There hadn't been time to process it in the moment. It had happened, and then everything else had, and anything that didn't pertain to her immediate situation had slipped Yaz's mind for a while. But now, it hit her like a load of bricks.
She could hear him screaming for her. Feel him slipping away. Smell the foul breath of the Becklespinax closing in.
It was all too much.
Tears poured down her face as she curled in on herself. She couldn't even tell what kind of breakdown this was. Some odd mix of her old trauma, her new damage, guilt, and loss. Frankly, it was unbearable. Painful. Everything hurt, her chest most of all, and her breath came in short gasps.
She needed... something. She didn't know. Help. Comfort. To pass the fuck out and not have to deal with this for a few hours.
But there was nothing. Just her and an empty room that suddenly felt much too small and entirely too big at the same time. Part of her wanted to go outside, thinking perhaps the fresh air might do her some good, while the rest wanted to go hide under a blanket for a while. She compromised by not moving.
She wouldn't be able to go anywhere anyway. She was shaking so hard she thought she'd probably fall over if she stood.
That was fine. She just needed to ride it out. Sit here and focus on breathing until her head cleared and she could think of something else to do. It was what her therapist would advise, she was pretty sure.
Just breathe. Ride it out. It would stop eventually, and she would still be here. Even if it took all day.
She really, really hoped it wouldn't.
------
For the first time in a while, Sammy felt like she was moving forward. Making some kind of progress in her life. Working toward a good place instead of wasting away in stagnation, never sure when her next meaningful human interaction would be.
Not that things were perfect by any means. She still had a long way to go with Yaz, and her friends for that matter. She still had very few people in physical proximity, even if she did like her coworkers and one of them had been kind enough to heed the frantic text she'd sent on the way to Wyoming and feed her animals while she was gone (Sammy owed her so much goddamn money for that).
And, of course, there was the heartbreaking discovery upon her return that a pack of Compies had taken up residence in her henhouse... three guesses as to where the hens had gone. Clearing them out had been a nightmare, but rage had won Sammy the day. Now she just had an empty coop, which she supposed was better.
In any case, she tried to focus on the positives. The cows and horses were in relatively good health. Bumpy wasn't trying to escape every other day now that she had Smoothie to focus on. The house was back to being more than just a place to rest her head and stare at things that reminded her of living with Yaz.
God, Yaz being back made everything else feel so much more manageable. Just the fact that she was here. She'd kept her promise, and they were going to work on everything together. And, really, it just felt nice to have someone to come home to again. Someone waiting for her. Someone who cared whether she walked in the door at all.
Sammy couldn't wait to head back inside and see her. It had been such a treat, these past several days, to be able to call out that she was home and receive a warm greeting and a smile. Often a hug, too. It was so, so nice to be hugged every day again.
But today, there was no hug waiting for her when she crossed the threshold. No greeting when she called out to Yaz. For a moment, her hands felt cold, and she was taken back to harder days, before Yaz had left for Wyoming. Before she'd gotten a handle on the worst of her PTSD. Sammy had been through this before.
Still, she forced herself not to jump to conclusions. Yaz was much better these days. Sure, they were both freshly home from a whole new batch of traumatic experiences, but Yaz had been more or less alright all week. One nightmare, very little fuss in the aftermath. While she would never necessarily be cured of her PTSD, she was much better at managing it. It wouldn't be like before.
"Yaz?" Sammy called. She didn't hear anything back, but on a whim, she poked her head into the living room.
Oh, God, please no.
Credit where it was due, at least Yaz wasn't hiding in the back of a closet this time. Still, she had curled into the tightest possible ball, trembling and sobbing quietly into the arm of the couch. Her laptop sat closed beside her.
"Yaz?!" Sammy hurried into the room, her mind racing. What the hell could have caused this? Everything had been fine half an hour ago.
Yaz looked up as she approached, which Sammy supposed was another step up from that day with the closet. But her eyes were bloodshot, tears streaming down her face, lip trembling.
"What happened?" Sammy asked, unable to keep the heartache from her voice. The sight of Yaz like this had always done horrible, horrible things to her.
Yaz sniffled and seemed to try to speak, but all that came out was a tiny hiccup. She began frantically wiping at her eyes, turning slightly away as if she were embarrassed to be caught crying.
"No, hey..." Sammy knelt in front of her. "Don't hide. Look at me."
"I-I'm okay," Yaz stammered. "I just need a minute."
Sammy nodded and simply moved Yaz's laptop from the couch to the coffee table so she could sit beside her, waiting until she was ready. It took several minutes of deep, deliberate breathing, but gradually, things improved. The shaking subsided, and the sobbing slowly died down.
Yaz swept her hands across her face and let out a heavy exhale, blinking a few more tears out of her eyes.
"I'm good," she said, though she clearly wasn't.
"How long have you been like this?" Sammy dared to asked.
"I'm not sure." Yaz glanced around, maybe looking for a clock, but the one for this room had stopped working months ago and was yet to replaced. "Felt like a few hours, but I don't think that's right."
"I was only outside for about forty minutes."
"Maybe half an hour, then." Yaz rubbed her eyes.
"Can I ask what happened?" Sammy murmured. "I mean, did something happen? You were doing so well all week, but... do you still...?"
"Have panic attacks at basically nothing?" Yaz finished for her. "Not really. Not for a while. Therapy's been pretty good for that."
"Then...?"
"I was going through my email." Yaz leaned back and sighed, tearing welling up in her eyes again. "Just wanted to talk to someone about transferring my credits, y'know? There was this message, and- back in Wyoming, after we, uh..."
She was becoming more difficult to understand. Tripping over her words, her voice breaking.
"Take your time." Sammy reached out and gently squeezed her hand.
"There was this guy I was friends with on the island," Yaz finally managed. Sammy felt her brow furrow. "We did therapy together. Went for runs sometimes. We weren't super close. He was a lot older than me, anyway, but... I knew him, y'know? He was part of my life. He was a good person. A-and when those dinosaurs showed up, he was there. He tried to get into Ben's van, and I tried to pull him in..."
Her breath hitched. She didn't really have to continue for Sammy to know what she was getting at, but she did anyway.
"I couldn't hold on," she sobbed. "That thing pulled him right out of my arms. It ate him right in front of me."
"Oh, Yasmina," Sammy whispered, pulling her in close. Yaz melted into her and cried into her chest. "I'm so sorry."
"I shouldn't have gone," Yaz said tightly as Sammy rubbed her back.
"What?" Sammy asked gently.
"Those dinosaurs were there for us. If I hadn't been there-" Yaz cut herself off with a fresh sob.
"Oh, honey, no," Sammy murmured. "It wasn't your fault."
"It was because I was there," Yaz insisted. "I should've just stayed with you. It wasn't worth it to go. Not when all it did was hurt you and get people killed."
"Yaz, stop it." Sammy absolutely hated to push her back upright, but she just had to look her in the eyes. "What happened that day was not your fault. And I know things got messed up between us, but you were never in the wrong for getting the help I couldn't give you."
"If I hadn't gone-"
"Don't say that," Sammy said softly. "You couldn't have known, and there was nothing you could have done."
"I could've been faster," Yaz replied miserably. "If I'd held on tighter, or-"
"Yaz." Sammy cut her off firmly. "You remember what your therapist said about survivor's guilt?"
Both of their therapists, actually, way back when they'd first come home from Mantah Corp. Island and started unpacking everything. The entire Camp Fam had dealt with it in some capacity, at some point or another. When they'd learned the death count of the Jurassic World Incident and suddenly felt like the lucky ones. When they thought they'd lost Ben on the monorail. When they thought Brooklynn had died.
"You weren't there, though," Yaz went on, still trying to rationalize her blame. "You didn't see."
"I know, and I'm sorry I wasn't there," Sammy murmured. "But I know you. I know you did everything you could, and I know you're not thinking straight right now, so I need you to trust me when I say it wasn't your fault."
Yaz fell silent, her eyes still huge and watery. After a few seconds, she nodded and rested her head once more on Sammy's collarbone. Sammy gently rubbed her back.
"Honestly, I'm glad you went," she said. "I wish we'd both handled it better, but it really did help you."
"I feel like I've lost so much progress," Yaz muttered into her shirt. "So much else has happened."
"But you're handling it so much better," Sammy replied. "When I found you just now, I was so scared it was going to be like before. I'd take care of you again in a heartbeat, but watching you suffer like that and not being able to help was torture. But you were able to help yourself. You calmed yourself down and talked to me. That used to take hours sometimes. You're getting better, Yaz."
Yaz nuzzled a little closer. "I should probably still get my therapy schedule in order soon. I've got like, twenty nukes to drop next session."
"Are you going back to the therapist you used to see here?" Sammy asked.
"Nah," Yaz said. "I like who I was seeing for one-on-one on the island. They do virtual sessions, and they've been able to help me more than any other therapist I've seen. And I feel like I should at least let them know I'm alive."
Sammy hummed in response.
"Would be kinda funny if I just scheduled an appointment without saying anything, though," Yaz mused.
Despite the situation at hand, Sammy burst out laughing. Yaz joined in, not because she ever found her own jokes particularly hilarious, but because Sammy's reaction to her dry humor always got her going.
"Do not do that to your poor therapist!" Sammy chortled.
"I think they'd laugh," Yaz replied.
"Yeah, once they get over the shock of you trying to make an appointment from the afterlife," Sammy shot back.
"Ghosts have trauma too!"
"You're a menace," Sammy decided, placing a kiss right on the top of her head. "I love you."
"I love you too." Yaz looked up with her a tiny smile. "Thanks. For being here, and for helping me redirect. I know I'm not always easy."
"Sweetheart, easy was never part of the deal. We're always gonna be a little messed up, and we're still learning the best ways to be there for each other. What matters is we're trying."
Yaz slowly sat up, her face still red and blotchy from crying, her eyes still heavy and sad, but it seemed the worst of it had passed.
"Yeah," she agreed softly. "Can I ask you a favor, so I can finish setting things up for me to stay?"
"Of course."
"I need you to delete an email for me." Yaz reached for her laptop and passed it to Sammy. "Or archive it so I can read it when I'm in a better headspace. I just can't look at it right now."
"Gotcha covered, babe." Sammy opened up the laptop, where the email Yaz had been reading was still plastered across the screen. Out of respect for privacy, she refrained from letting her eyes scan it or anything else in the inbox and simply sent it to the archived folder. "Done."
"Thank you." Yaz let Sammy place the computer back in her lap and kiss the side of her head for good measure.
"When you're done here, how about you come outside with me?" Sammy asked, both because she thought they should spend some time together and that Yaz needed the distraction. "The horses need some exercise, and I think Daisy misses you in the saddle."
Yaz immediately lit up, her eyes going wide with excitement. "God, it's been so long since we've ridden together."
"I bet that means you're rusty." Sammy grinned at her. "Hope you're up for losing a race."
"Get real," Yaz scoffed. "I don't lose races."
"Oh, yeah?" Sammy replied. "Bet I can groom and tack up both horses before you're even out the door."
"Actually..." Yaz said, a bit sheepishly, "could you wait for me? I haven't brushed Daisy since I left, and doing that stuff with you is half the fun."
Sammy didn't know why that hit her the way it did. Yaz was her girlfriend. It was very, very normal for her to say she wanted to do something together. But it was just so nice to hear it out loud so casually.
"Oh. Sure."
"Thank- oh my God, are you crying?!" Yaz leaned forward, her face bright with alarm and confusion.
"I'm fine," Sammy said, blinking rapidly. "I just... I really missed doing things like that with you."
"Aw, babe." Yaz, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, cupped Sammy's face and used her thumbs to wipe away the tears. "I'm sorry I wasn't here. But I am now. We'll do so much stuff together you'll get sick of me."
"Never," Sammy replied softly. Yaz leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss. "Can I stay here while you do what you need to do?"
"Like you have to ask." Yaz shifted her position so that she was leaning toward Sammy, her laptop balanced on her crossed legs and her arm stretched out waiting for something to hold. "Snuggle away, my love."
And Sammy did. She settled right in against Yaz's side, resting one arm across her shoulders, and leaned on her like she meant to stay forever. In a way, she did. For as long as Yaz would let her, anyway.
She sat there and listened to the sound of fingers on the keyboard. Of Yaz still sniffling and wiping her face every so often. Of her thumb gently caressing the back of the hand that held her. God, she'd missed this. The sweet touches and comfortable silence that made her feel like nothing would ever be wrong again.
But it would, and she accepted that. With Yaz still grieving, both of them shaken from their recent experiences, and the glue still drying on their relationship, they were bound to struggle some more before they figured it all out. They would break down. They would probably fight. But they weren't going anywhere, and Sammy wanted to believe they would fight for each other more than with each other.
"Hey, Sammy?" Yaz asked after a few minutes of quiet. "Is it okay to talk about Wyoming? Like, in general?"
"What do you mean?"
"It was a year of my life. I made friends and had all these experiences, but while I was there, you were just here alone," Yaz explained. "Does it upset you to hear about what I was off doing? Who I was with? Because I- I feel like I'm gonna want to talk about Rich again, but I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Isn't our whole problem feeling like we can't tell each other things?" Sammy mused. "I want you to talk to me."
"But does hearing about it upset you?"
"If I say yes, are you gonna clam up about it forever?" Sammy asked it lightly, but she meant it. Yaz glanced at her, brow furrowed, and she sighed. "Look, I can't promise I won't feel some type of way about new people coming into your life while I was on my own waiting for you to call me back. But I don't want that to stop you from talking. I want to hear it anyway. I want honesty. I won't get mad and hold it against you, if that's what you're worried about."
"It's not that," Yaz murmured. "I just don't want you to feel bad."
"You didn't want me to feel bad about coddling you, so you just up and moved without talking to me instead," Sammy replied bluntly. "Make me feel bad, Yaz. There is literally nothing you could say to me that feels worse than you shutting me out or keeping things from me."
"Okay." Yaz's eyes went back to the keyboard. "But you have to tell me if it's ever too much."
"Deal."
And they went back to just existing together, but the small exchange actually made Sammy feel a bit surer. They were actually talking about things. Asking hard questions. Giving honest answers. No tiptoeing around each other's feelings like they couldn't take it. And that was before their first session of couple's counseling.
Sammy relaxed into Yaz's side and let herself smile a bit. The way forward seemed clear, as long as they could keep this up.
They were going to be fine.