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project-ibris · 6 years

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Chapter 8

...

The air was still, subtle beeps and hushed voices filling the lobby outside the raptors’ lab. Owen was there with Hoskins, standing across from him. His vision was fuzzy at such a close proximity, but Owen did his best to focus his faltering gaze.

"She's what?" Owen asked; confusion clouded his stare as he looked at Hoskins.

"Subject V1-A stopped breathing last night," Hoskins' tone was matter of fact. He balled his fists and stood straight, but there was a shadow of nervousness in his eyes as he spoke. "But we're kee-"

Owen cut him off, a sinking guilt in his chest making him feel sickly and disturbed. "How?" Hoskins stuttered for a moment, but Owen continued. "Weren't they being watched? Who was in charge?" He looked past Vic, scanning the room's inhabitants for people he didn't recognize. Tension was building in his body, and his gaze grew clearer, though a headache was beginning to pound his temples.

"Owen, -A was weak from the start. She always had trouble breathing, remember?" Vic gestured towards the lab. It seemed he was trying to get the Navy man's attention once again.

Owen came to an abrupt stop, blinking at Hoskins before lowering his voice. "Bee has the shrunken lung..." Was he getting angry? His voice was tinged with bitterness, and his heart pounded. His eyes stung, but was he actually sad? Whatever it was he felt, he was sure it showed. He gathered himself. "-B's okay, right?" He said, concern catching the words in his throat.

"Of course she is. -C is too. As I was trying to say, we're keeping a close eye on them." Vic seemed more relaxed with Owen having reigned himself in.

Owen sighed, his vision sinking to the floor for a moment. “I'm gonna see them,” His voice was flat

Vic stood aside, “Go ahead, champ.”

Owen paused, his insides turning over at the address. Something about it irked him, and as much as he wanted to rely on his boss for authenticity, Hoskins’ track record wasn't promising. He walked forward, stopping as Vic put a hand on Owen's shoulder to slow him.

“This isn't over yet, okay?” The man's voice was hushed, his eyes revealing little but determination. If anything, Owen was relieved to hear Hoskins acknowledging the situation. Perhaps this was the Security Director's way of soothing worries. Mine, or his? Owen wondered.

Vic's hands were clammy, leaving a darkened stain on Owen's flannel shirt. He acknowledged Hoskins with a nod and continued into the lab.

As he entered the room, sad looks dimmed the faces of the veterinarians. David’s face was blank, and he occupied his hands with the deposition of files. Valerie rolled solemnly away from her desk, approaching with a grim expression. Out of everyone he'd met on Nublar so far, Valerie could read him the most easily. She knew Owen was taking this hard.

“You look like you're gonna throw up.” She said quietly.

“I might…” Owen groaned. “There was only three of them to begin with - what if there's some pack requirement? I mean, from what I can find about the ‘93 incident, there were at least three raptors…” He found himself stumbling over words and incomplete thoughts just in the attempt to speak.

Valerie’s eyes were dull, and a sympathetic sigh escaped her as she walked closer. She reached over to place a hand on his arm, “This happens, Owen. I've been working this job for a long time…I understand this is upsetting.”

“Just…” Owen murmured, rubbing his temples. “Just tell me what happened to her.”

Valerie paused, looking apprehensive, before she began. The woman explained the evening, excluding no details about what had occurred, starting at with the day before last. -A had gotten sick that previous night, but there was no reasonable explanation as to why. She recovered quickly, shaking it off and moving on. Dr. Wu could not explain it either, suggesting that he stay to keep an eye on her. When that resulted in no further evidence of an issue, he moved on himself.

Last night, at 1 AM, -A showed signs of labored activity and shivers throughout her body. By 2 AM, the hatchling was resting in a corner on her own; -B and -C both attempted approach, only to be scared off by the weakened raptor. She hissed at them, exhibiting, what the technicians assumed to be, irritable behavior. “For all they knew, she had just tuckered herself out,” Valerie described. “They all seemed tired.”

Owen nodded, following along, “Sure…”

With loud, high pitched heaves, the hatchling vomited her food. At this point, the lab workers entered the room to clean and check -A. The workers recorded that her sisters all surrounded her protectively, and it was apparent that something was going wrong.

With consequence of a few nips and scratches, the raptor was removed from the EnviStim. She was kept under close observation, and it was at this point Valerie was involved, her having been taking a nap prior.

They placed her in the raptor incubator, isolating her from the other dinosaurs; panic spread though the room as -A vomited again, frothy bile leaving her body. They watched in horror, paging Dr. Wu immediately.

Another hour passed as medication was administered to soothe -A’s stomach and sedate her. However, the medications didn't act quickly enough; the raptor had emptied her stomach completely at this point, and was rejecting food or water. They ran fluids, attempting to rehydrate -A. Vets noted that her blood was unusually thin.

After a few hours, the sedated animal passed…

Owen's stomach flipped, his guts steadily twisting into a knot. His eyes scanned the floor, but as usual, no comfort was found there, and the juvenile velociraptor was still gone. Death had never been easy to deal with when it came to him. Like most people, he grieved by pushing his feelings away and stubbornly attempting to move on. He never really let himself feel grief. After all, Valerie was right; when sustaining the life of another animal, there was no guarantee.

He pushed air through his body, realizing that he hadn't breathed at all this whole time. In fact, he might have been blacking out a little. “Thank you for telling me.” He sighed.

Valerie nodded, and stayed in her place. She had a notebook in her lap that she was distantly tracing shapes in.

“I might stay here tonight.”

“That's fine, Owen.” She shook her head, “You don't have to-”

“I want to.” Owen's voice came out as a tired grumble. He was exhausted, but right now, he knew that if he left the lab and returned to his bungalow, that he wouldn't be able to sleep. He rubbed his eyes, walking across the room slowly. He made it to the buffer room door. His eyes had clouded and his mind was, very much so, elsewhere. If you had asked him, he would list off thoughts that blazed through his mind by the second. He turned, leaning against the wall beside the door.

Valerie rolled closer, her keycard in hand. “Want in?” She asked.

For a few seconds, her words didn't process in his head. He replied with a “What?”, before following that up with “Yeah.”

The door chimed positively, as the lock was undone and Owen was let inside. He didn't plan to go all the way in, of course, but just sitting by the two way mirror that peered into the room, sounded like a fine enough night to him.

Owen yawned a goodnight to Valerie, settling into the chair by the sink, and she chuckled in response. “Let me know if you need a blanket.” She seemed accustomed to late nights in the lab, and that was something the man appreciated her levity about.

“Hah, I will…”

As the woman closed the door behind her, the room went dark, and Owen turned his attention to the window. The raptors appeared to have heard the sound of the locks clicking through the walls, as they both perked up and lifted their heads. Indeed, -B was fine.

She paced the square room, her claws clicking quietly against the smooth floor. Owen watched the creature intently, noticing her labored breathing had recovered vastly in the past few weeks. As Vic said, -C was also alright; she was resting in a corner of the room, her breath quick and her sickle claws flexing. She must be dreaming…

He watched -B trot over to where her sister lay, and settle beside her. However, she remained awake, and stared cautiously at the door. Owen's mind was beginning to pick back up, as about 20 minutes passed of him keeping watch. He still didn't entirely understand what possibly happened, but as hard as it was to hear, none of the lab workers did either. It had only been a day since -A passed, so things could possibly clear up soon. Everything would be clearer in the morning - or at least, he hoped that was the case.

The dull hum of the air conditioning, and subtle beeps of distant computers served as pleasant background noise, to which the taxed Co-director felt himself slip into a light sleep. He woke up a couple times, hearing rustling from inside the room; the raptors were nocturnal, of course, and got a bit rowdy several times throughout the night. Owen wondered if they noticed the missing presence of their sibling, and as if it were a response, the hatchlings spent a lot of their time staring at the door. Owen felt his heart twist in knots, wishing he could go into the room and spend some time with the two of them.

Every few hours lab workers brought dishes of soft food into the EnviStim. The girls crowded around, even nipping at the pant legs of a seemingly-unbothered David. As the silver bowls were sat on the floor, Owen noticed the man popping open white and blue tubs, the labels of which his groggy eyes couldn't make out. He came to the conclusion they were some sort of supplements, as he watched David sprinkle heavy spoonfuls of it into the raptors' food. -C watched the tubs curiously, and after a quiet chitter was shared between the two of them, -B did as well.

David exited the EnviStim, locking the door behind him. Owen stretched, his shoulder blades cracking as he sat up straight. "Smart things, aren't they?" He said sleepily. "They seem real interested in those supplements, I mean."

The man sat the tub on the counter, and dropped the spoon in one of the sinks, it hitting the bottom with a clang. "I know right?" He said, running his fingers through his greased black hair. Owen shifted his eyes back to the window as the lab worker spoke. "Kinda scary, even…makes you wonder how much they know.”

Owen could hardly imagine the raptors growing into something deadly, even if, as young as they are at eight weeks, the girls showed some minor signs of aggression. Just a week prior, a worker was bit by -B, and as proud as Owen was that she showed that kind of strength, a visit to the Jurassic World paramedics was still necessary.

For a moment, Owen had forgotten the absence of -A, and upon remembering he felt his heart pang. The hatchlings were still huddled around their food dishes, but they finished quickly. Noticing there was one less bowl than usual, they both left behind small morsels for their missing sister. They expected her to return soon, as check ups, in which the raptors were removed for inspection, were common. They hopped around, chattering excitedly at each other, before they, and Owen, settled into a nap once more…

#jurassic world fanfic #jurassic world #owen grady fanfic #owen grady #ibris #project ibris #jw

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Chapter 7

Owen meets some co-workers as a disaster throws them together.

Owen turned around a tight left corner as he pulled into the lot with his car. It seemed his landlord was right; the drive – though rough, winding and unpaved – was only twenty minutes from his lakeside bungalow. The Raptor Research Arena, or the RRA, was a tall circular paddock in the center of the clearing, complete with a couple of outside viewing gates, and a heavy food-delivery door built into the front of the structure. Several yards away, on his right, the ground fell away to a tree-spotted cliff that lined the sea shore. On his left, lushly covered mountains gave rise and blocked the rest of the island from view.

The ground in the clearing was made up of gravel, like the surrounding area of most paddocks, and crunched under his boots as he stepped out of the vehicle. Several other cars were parked against the edges of the clearing, and under pitched tawny shades, sat a group of people, seemingly on break. He closed his car door behind him with a clunk, and stepped away.

The job required he work with others at the paddock who would assist with feeding and caring for the raptors. Today, Owen planned to meet his co-workers and get an idea for who he’d be dino-wrangling with. Somehow he was supposed to be an authority over them, but his own worming nervousness to meet new people was still a sensation that buried itself deep within him. Luckily, it was buried so deep, that at this moment he could barely notice it. He tried to keep it that way.

The walk was short and the sun glimmered beams of light into his eyes, which made it hard navigate, until he reached the shade cast by the paddock. Lumbering forward, he could see that the workers taking their breaks under the pitched tent had noticed his arrival. They had an uncomfortable look, eyes shifting and hands unable to find their places, that made Owen concerned. However, he continued his approach, a skeptical look on his face.

They didn't speak up right away, as he slowed to a stop outside the tent, so Owen took it upon himself to break the strange silence. “How's it... going?” He asked, their weirdness seeming to rub off on him.

“Howdy,”

“Hello, sir,”

“Uh, good!”

They all chimed in. There were about 16 workers, men and women, all different ages, shapes and sizes. They looked experienced; some were obviously builders with bruises and heavy set bodies, while others looked more like the animal handlers he'd seen on Nublar, with scarred hands and bright eyes. He'd always enjoyed speaking with animal handlers the most; their optimism was a refreshing change from the usual seriousness that prefaced his discussions with everyone else.

Owen's eyes followed as a man stood up who looked like a mixture of both. He was short but weighty, strong armed but bearing an attempted warm expression, unlike the others who looked nervous as all hell. “You're Owen?”

Owen’s eyebrows raised, “Yeah, did you know I was coming?”

“Uh… Sorta! Hoskins said you'd be working with us, but we had no idea when you'd be coming down.” The man put his hands on his hips. Behind him, a couple people exchanged knowing glances; Owen could tell there was something, a joke perhaps, that he was missing out on, but he tried to brush it off.

He relaxed, putting his weight on one hip and crossing his arms. “Yeah, sorry about that. It's been real busy with the raptors -” he looked down to see a couple ants climbing his shoes. He shifted his feet, hoping to release them. “-At the lab, you know, there's a lot going on...”

Everyone in the group flinched at the mention of the dinosaurs, their eyes widening and busy hands, once fiddling with tools and equipment, paused. They were silent for a moment, and Owen wondered if they were apprehensive about breeding velociraptors as well, but very quickly, questions arose from all of them.

“How big are they?”

“What do they eat?”

“Yeah, have they tried to kill anyone yet?”

Shocked, Owen struggled to keep up with the noise, unsure of most of the questions, but trying his hardest to slow them down. He put his hands up, gesturing for them to stop, “Alright, I don't know everything, so just go one at a time.” He raised his voice over the chatter. They remained quiet for a good time.

“...Are they big?” A young woman’s voice eventually picked up over the silence..

“Not yet. They're a bit taller than your ankle; they're just a couple weeks old... about a month now…” Owen replied quietly, scanning the group. He tried to keep his answers simple and to the point. The people cracked little smiles when they heard how small the dinosaurs were, which he had realistically expected. It was ironic to see them at such a minuscule measurement.

“They dangerous?” The man who greeted him asked. Everything fell silent once again, the only sound being the nearby crashing waves and the insects that pelted the forest with their calls and chitters.

Owen looked at him, unsure of how to answer that. He had spent a long time this past month deciding that for himself and there was no straight answer, especially when no one has taken time to study these creatures. No one until now. “Not yet.” He answered bluntly. “They will be, though…”

Moments passed before another man chimed in, “Well I suppose that's what we're building this big-ass paddock for.” A couple others chuckled, and Owen nodded, craning his head to look at the huge octogonal structure.

Though it was a little overwhelming at first, at least he was lucky to have such an eager group. They all looked interested and however unprepared they were in reality, they seemed confidant. Behind him, the paddock was coming along nicely; thick stone walls and metal bars faced the outside walls on a few faces of the structure. Other segments were unfinished, leaving exposed wiring and sharp metal edges where it would be easy for accidents to occur. Owen nervously brushed this off as a work in progress, and turned his attention back to the group.

There were a couple fold out chairs and tables standing under the shade, and upon walking father inside, he noticed it was a lot like one of those tents you'd buy fireworks from in June and July. He wrinkled his nose; it smelled a lot like one too, likely scents coming off of the power tools and everyone's overheated bodies. Secretaries filled out paperwork and took notes on the progress of the RRA. Workers cracked open coolers filled with ice, cold sodas and the occasional store-bought bag of apple slices. Others went over models and drawings of the paddock with each other, adding extra doodles and discussing details amongst themselves.

“Hey, Grady, come check this out.” One man said.

Owen walked over slowly, looking over the drawings that depicted the RRA from a birds-eye view. Two thickly drawn lines crossed the center of the paddock in an X shape. On one side, an extra jutted out section of the main octogon was drawn, with scribbles that said “secondary gate”. Near that, was a small office and other parking spaces that lined the paddock. It all looked great, excepting one corner of the page, on which someone had doodled a smiley face that looked suspiciously phallic. Owen rolled his eyes, and the man, now realizing what Owen had noticed, quickly attempted to erase it.

“Whoops, sorry, that's not what I called you over for,”

A woman who was sitting nearby, obviously knew what the man had referenced and laughed a little. Owen smiled, returning his attention to the paper as the man shed the erased led from the sheet. “Okay, so-”

“What's your name?” Owen asked, unintentionally cutting him off.

He paused. “It's Ben.”

“What do you do?”

“I'm an architect,”

Owen nodded. “Okay, go ahead...” When he was a kid, he considered being an architect, but realizing how much math it involved turned him off of it. He was never fond of math. However, he still found architecture very interesting.

Ben continued excitedly, “So I was thinking we install a catwalk above the center of the paddock! It'd reach across from right here, and here-” he pointed to the bases of the paths that arched over the paper. “You could get a good look at the velociraptors from there, and keep an eye on them. It would be easy access with all four branches, as well as a path along the main walls.”

Owen nodded, “And what's this?” He pointed to the outcropping that read “secondary gate”.

“Um… I figured we should have a door that's not as dinosaur-sized. You know, in case we need to get inside.”

“Oof, good idea…” Owen remarked, having not considered that before.

“Well, most paddocks have them. This one will need a secondary buffer door as well-” he lightly dragged his finger across the outer square shape of the secondary gate. “-In case the velociraptors ever get through.”

“Sounds good…” Even if the secondary gate was a smart idea, the raptors were still more human-sized than most dinosaurs. How large did they grow again? Wasn't it six feet tall? Owen sucked air though his teeth. “Yeah, sounds good…”

“So… Should we go through with it?” Ben asked.

Owen flinched, realizing he must've been in charge of that decision. How was that not something that was elaborated by someone else? Sure, he's the co-director of the project, but he never considered that would leave him in charge of structural decisions. Owen was technically an iNGen worker, and therefore an authority on security…

“It's already been okayed by Hoskins, but I just... wanted your opinion.” Ben seemed to notice the hesitance from Owen, and spoke up.

“Oh, then yeah.” He replied, awkwardly giving a thumbs up before crossing his arms again.

After Ben had finished, Owen asked about the “office” he had seen on the paper. Reportedly, it was already in place. Built from recycled wood and furnished with junk from the island's lost and found, it seemed like a place he wanted to visit. He wandered further around the tent for a bit, taking a bag of apple slices from one of the coolers and continuing his tour. Past what he recognized as the future location of the secondary gate, was an opening in the surrounding metal bars that rounded the West side of the paddock.

He stepped inside the guarded tunnel, the ground fading from hardened, sun-baked gravel, to soft mulch and soil. On his right, the metal bars guarded the paddock's walls and gave him the occasional view inside. It was large and open, low growing plants surrounding the outer circles, but otherwise the ground was dry and flat. To his left, jungle could be seen though the second gridded gate as he followed the path. An office was at the end of the hall, the door made of a dark wood with a smudged golden knob. Jutting out as an awkward square shape, the rest of the office’s structure could be seen just through the metal bars. He turned the knob, noting its looseness in the door frame, and entered the dark room.

He was greeted by a breeze emanating from a ceiling fan, as he closed the door behind him. A window on his left with closed blinds let in the only light, shining on the spruce desk in the center of the room and a metal filing cabinet on the right wall. On both sides of the desk were office chairs, and on the wall behind him was a matte black coat hanger. He ran his fingers along the desk’s grain as he made his way to the other side and sat down. I work here. He realized, reaching his arms out and touching each end of of the table with his hands.

When he brought his hands back, the tips of his fingers were coated in dust, which he wiped off on his flannel shirt. The office was nice, though it could be improved upon - particularly, he thought with a grin, a large pride flag on the back of the door. Things would be easier here than they were in the Navy, or at least he hoped they would. It would be easier to avoid folks with more “conservative” views when he lived in the middle of the jungle. The pink, blue and white of the trans flag would go nicely with the room…

The door cracked, letting in a wash of fresh air and sunlight from outside. An older man was standing in the door; his hair was greyed and long under his small sun hat. “Sir?” He positioned his glasses as he spoke, pushing them back towards his face.

Owen brought his arms closer to his body, sitting straight in the chair. “Yeah?” he replied quietly. Always with the “sirs” and “misters” around here… he thought.

“Well, I just wanted to introduce myself, if you're not busy.”

“Sure,” Owen stood to reach out for a handshake, which the man met promptly.

“I'm Earl, I've been working on the island for a little while, but somehow I got picked up for this raptor job… It's a little crazy to imagine, inn’it? Training raptors?”

Owen's gaze fled to the table and to his hands. “Yeah,” he thought of how quickly his life had turned from retired Navy man, to animal behaviorist. Things always did change fast in life.

Earl sniffed. “Y'know, you're very different from that Hoskins guy. He didn't listen much, but he sure liked to talk,” He chuckled.

Owen smiled, “Yeah, I've spent some time with him myself. Interested guy, but he gets the job done.”

“Well at least you're patient, and we thank you for that. We've had a lot of barked orders and threats these days.” Earl leaned on the wall, propping his foot up behind him.

Owen frowned, “What do you mean?” His first thought was that perhaps the workers were being mistreated, but that couldn't be right. Hoskins had been nothing but eccentric from the moment he met him, but far from threatening.

“Well…” Earl looked scared all of the sudden, as if he'd said too much.

Owen paused before opening his mouth to speak as a ringing alarm bell went off outside. It was muffled from so far away, but he recognized an alarm when he heard it. Cautiously, he rose from his seat once again, giving a questioning glance to Earl. Earl's expression was dark as he opened the office door and took off. Owen followed swiftly, dropping his bagged apple slices on the tabletop.

Noticing the parking lot was a lot brighter than before, he was sure he already knew what had happened. Brushing sloppily through the gate’s entrance, he stumbled into the clearing. A fire had erupted on the far right side, and the workers in the tent had all ran out to observe with panicked eyes.

Owen saw the shorter man who was nice to him earlier, crouched on the ground. Obviously, he'd had music playing through headphones when the alarm went off, and was only now noticing the event. Owen moved towards him.

“Ah, shit!” The man shouted, looking more disappointed at the rising flames than scared. “Again?” He scrambled to stand up, jogging towards the fire.

Owen was frozen with confusion. Again? He thought. “Hey! How often does this happen?”

The man stopped, turning back to grit his teeth in a grimace. He looked like he might have a good answer, but as more things collapsed under the flames, he quickly turned away again, running towards the fire.

Owen looked around for a fire extinguisher, finding one resting against the nearby wall of the paddock. Heart pounding in his ears, he ran, grabbing the bright red canister from it's holster. His feet slipped in the gravel as he picked up speed, taking action and readying the extinguisher for use, skidding to a halt beside the group that had now gathered around the flames.

The heat plumed against his face, his eyes drying; he tried to establish the source of the outbreak, but with it spreading, it was too hard to see. He shot the coolant halfheartedly into the buffeting fire, but it barely made a dent, only keeping the danger maintained on his own. On his left and right, workers shedded their flannels and coats, dropping them to the ground and stomping out the spreading embers with their boots.

“Owen!” The man called from the other side of the burning pile. “Toss it to me!” He clapped his hands together before holding them outstretched, ready to catch.

Owen hesitated, unsure of how much the man could make matters better, but he decided that there wasn't any other choice. Gripping the half-empty canister like a football, he threw it to the other side. The man caught it, fumbling the mechanisms in his hands, and bringing down the fire with one fatal shot. From there, the rest of it was easily collapsed as workers gathered nearby water hoses and tarps that, together, suffocated the flames.

Everyone relaxed, the heat dying down and the entire group’s exhausted chuckles filling the air. Some looked disappointed, while others seemed to believe this was a job well done. Owen panted, holding onto the tarp and resting his upper body on what was left of the wood pile.

The man who put out the fire was holding the tarp on his end. He looked up at Owen with a tired smile, and reached out for a handshake. “I'm Billy. Thanks for helping out,”

“Thank you, Billy.” Owen murmured, gripping the man's hand with a firm shake. The wood pile beneath him feel brittle and crisped, but almost pleasantly warmed him. However, it would be unusable in the building process now...

How could this disaster occur? And how could the RRA be a safe place for the raptors if this was somehow a regular thing? “How did this happen?” Owen's expression turned, a dark look overtaking his relief.

Billy panted, “Hell if I know. We've been trying to fix that damn generator for weeks, but it keeps… Lighting on fire…”

Owen scowled, “So you put it next to a pile of wood beams?”

Billy's voice cracked as he gestured towards it. “We bought a whole new one! I didn't think it'd light up again!” The generator was a blackened box with no semblance of what it used to be. Owen looked at it sadly. Everyone was looking at it sadly, as though they were disappointed in its actions.

Owen pulled himself away, walking around to see the generator a little better. “Lemme take a look at it…”

It took them an hour or two of salvaging burnt parts and busted wires to finally establish the problem. A mixture of the wrong gasoline and overheating due to poor placement of the generator finally ended in the creation of an explosive device. Everyone took the blame, while Owen offered that they'd be better off powering the place through a junction box or a solar panel. “But, of course, a better generator certainly wouldn't hurt in the long run, either.” He spoke into the phone. He was at the bungalow now, sun lowering on the islands horizon as he sat on his porch; birds were cooing their songs in the trees above as fireflies lit up the grassy clearing ahead. On the phone, was his friend, Barry. They had met while Owen was serving in the military, though by no means did they meet through the military. Barry was a french zoologist, currently studying animal behavior in his home country. They had years of history together, and Owen had been calling him every week since he landed the job on Nublar; his friend had always been interested in working with dinosaurs, but was too caught up in his studies and invested with family situations to ever consider making the move to the Costa Rican island chain. That being said, he was ecstatic to learn Owen had got a job working with velociraptors.

“Sounds like an interesting group,” Barry joked, his voice crackling as it came through Owen’s speakers. He never figured the audio connection from Costa Rica to France, where Barry was living, would be the greatest, but it was still disappointing.

“Yeah, I think they suit me,” Owen muttered, leaning back slowly onto the floor outside the bungalow. The sky was turning a deep blue that cascaded onto everything on the island. “But hey, I wanted to ask you somethin’.”

“Yes?”

“Do you think…” He paused, trying to find the right words. “That Hoskins guy, I told you about him, right?”

Barry responded with a “Yes”-like grunt, the shuffle of papers scratching together accompanying his voice..

“...I’m worried about working with him. First it was just one guy telling me, and now...” Owen thought of the man, Earl, coming into the office, thankful for Owen’s patience. Owen didn’t even think he was acting patient. He’d spent the whole drive home trying to figure what Earl had meant, and only came to one conclusion. But if Hoskins was causing everyone discomfort, it wouldn’t be too out of character, based on the man’s usual… Enthusiasm.

Barry picked up as Owen’s words trailed, “I don’t know. Nothing you’ve personally seen from him indicates an issue, but…”

“Exactly. And I dunno whether to…” He trailed off again, not knowing exactly where he was going with his words. There wasn’t really an option besides seeing it through. Hoskins was his boss! He sat up, pulling one arm behind him to rub his back; it was sore after today. He was pretty tense. “You know what I’m sayin’.”

Things were quiet for a second before a sigh came over the phone. “I do… But I think you’re worrying more than you need to right now.”

Owen pouted, attempting to relax his body with a sigh, “I am…” A firefly landed on his boot, and he looked at it with a smile. It softly blinked its light on and off; he never had many opportunities to catch fireflies as a kid. He put the phone down, clicking it on to speakerphone, and gripped the insect lightly in his palms. He and Barry spoke for another hour, catching up on things before saying their goodnights and hanging up.

The evening ended quietly, beyond Owen tripping on his Navy bag as he tried to settle in for the night. Finding a comfortable place on the floor with a couple big blankets to sleep, he attempted an optimism for the following day. The wind grew strong as the hours passed, howling against his bungalow and keeping him awake for several hours.

#Owen Grady #owen grady fanfic #ibris #project ibris #jw #jurassic world fanfic

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Island of Maui - Hana, Hawaii - 1965

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Chapter 6

Quality time with the raptors puts Owen in the presence of a superior.

It had been two weeks since Owen moved into his bungalow on the East side of the island. The air was still and stuffy, but filled with muffled chitters and scratches coming from the lab's EnviStim. On Owen's left, small - but swiftly growing - velociraptors could be seen through the two-sided mirror fitted to the wall. The glass was tinted, but the flashes of grey scales dashing to and from each end of the room were clear to see. Owen smiled, excitement and nervousness prickling through his body.

With the exception he wears gloves and other protective gear, Valarie informed him that he would be permitted to some hands-on time with the V1s. The small dromaeosaurs reportedly had a tendency to bite and dig in with their toe claws, so denim pants and leather gloves were a requirement.

The gloves were of a thin cow-leather, strong enough to provide some resistance to the hatchling’s strong bite. However, Owen was a little sad he wouldn’t get to touch their scales; he played with the idea of taking his glove off once inside and out of the lab workers’ sight.

With so little staff this afternoon, it wouldn’t be hard to sneak something past them. Not even David, who boasted about being at the lab more often than Owen, was there.

“You work here?” Owen said with a laugh.

“Excuses, excuses.” David had replied jokingly, returning to his note taking that day.

But now the lights were dim, and the blue screened computers and blue-ish lights tinted the whole room prettily. Despite some anxious first couple weeks working on Nublar, and the long commute, the lab became increasingly more of a comfortable place to be. Even the days he didn’t see the raptors in their rambunctiousness, he felt as though he’d made friends and his words were taken seriously.

Hoskins seemed to be visiting more often now, and Owen couldn’t figure out whether that made him happier or not. His demeanor seemed to shift recently, which came off as untrustworthy; some preach about “advancing” and “making progress” that sounded as though it was ripped from a Masrani Global or iNGen memo, and knowing the security manager’s personality, it likely was. But despite the man’s words, he didn’t often stay interested in the lab workers’ reports for very long.

Owen washed his hands thoroughly, drying them with a scratchy white and blue towel. Each EnviStim was equipped with a small buffer room between the lab and the actual dinosaur containment. Having entered the room just moments ago, Valarie was preparing to grant Owen access to the three hatchlings.

“Are you ready?” She asked, rolling her wheelchair closer to him with gloves in hand. “Don’t forget they can be bitey, the nasty little things.” Her words were tinged with affection; it seemed no one could help getting attached to the dinosaurs. “And remember, it’s best to get closer to the ground and let them see you. It makes them less scared.”

Owen nodded with a smile, slipping the protective gloves over his hands and moving with her to the card-and-keypad-locked door. Valarie swiped her ID and entered the six-digit code. The door unlocked with a hiss, and the woman rolled back away from the door. He shot her a nervous thumbs-up before cracking the door just enough for him to enter.

The first thing he saw was an empty room, but quickly, as his eyes adjusted to the low light, it was clear he was surrounded. Loud screeches erupted from the small raptors, as they all ran forward and bit at his pants.

“Alright, alright!” He gasped, leaning closer to them with a happy glimmer in his eyes. The raptors ceased for a moment to get a look at their visitor. Stepping back, it seemed they knew Owen meant them no harm, but were still frightened by his sudden presence. He looked back at the two-sided mirror, making a motion to Valarie, asking her to turn the lights up a little, to which the room lit up slowly.

As the velociraptors became more visible, -B stood at the head of the pack, giving a high-pitched gurgle to Owen. Her scales were a dark, but dilute, brown and shining amber eyes looked up at him expectantly, before she gave a bark to her sisters. -A and -C were similar in color to -B, but with minor differences; as the firstborn, -A could be picked out of the three easily, simply by her size, and -C’s blunter jaw, which curved at the end of her mouth, made her the most uniquely built. The hatchlings were last recorded at four inches tall and eleven inches long, which Owen decided seemed accurate.

The two flanking dinosaurs fell back behind -B as she called to them, and Owen felt a subtle warmth build in his chest. At only three weeks old, the raptors already showed intellect and skill. Obviously, their technique needed improvement, but their minds and claws would only get sharper

Owen got down on a knee, his lips curled in a goofy smile. For a moment, his brain was absent of Hoskins or the strangeness of his vision and ideals.

-B looked up at Owen, taking in quiet huffy sniffs as he got closer. Her sisters closed in as well, examining him closer, and tugging gently – but with strength - on his clothes. For a moment, he felt overwhelmed by them. They all looked as though they were a miniature version of frightening; small pearly fangs, beady slit pupils, and strong, lanky legged bodies brushed against him at all sides.

He reached out to touch -B and without hesitation, she clamped down on his finger. Owen flinched, forcing himself not to instinctively pull away; -A and -C didn’t seem to notice the attack and continued sniffing at Owen’s legs. -B’s eyes locked onto the gloved hand, and with every wiggle he gave to coax her release, she only gripped tighter. The bite didn’t hurt, the raptor’s teeth only scratching his skin, but the fact she didn’t let go was causing a subtly rising anxiety in him.

“Alright, c’mon,” he pleaded. -B’s tail thrashed back and forth as she breathed a hum-like growl into Owen’s hand. In an attempt to control the situation, he brought his other hand forward to grasp the raptor’s jaw and force it open. The humming -B saw this coming and immediately whined to her siblings, who both ran to her side and pulled hard on the glove. Their combined strength was startling, as Owen was pulled forward onto his left hand and both knees. Moving swiftly, he reached forward and unhooked the Velcro strap that kept the glove secure, releasing himself from the raptors’ grip.

They tripped backwards, pulling the glove along with them. -A fell to her side, tugging it along and pulling her sisters to the ground with her. All three let out happy chitters as they tugged the glove around, tossing it to different corners of the room, and now, ignoring Owen completely. He stood up, backing towards the door as silently as possible.

That didn’t go well… He thought, brushing his legs off awkwardly. Watching for a few minutes longer, the dinosaurs just didn’t seem to get tired of their new toy. -B climbed inside of it for a few moment, before peeking her head out and looking at Owen with a hum-like chirp. -C attempted to rip pieces off the glove, most likely because she assumed it was food; however it did not give, much to her frustration. She laid on it like a cat rested its upper body on a toy, and Owen wished from the bottom of his heart that he could take a picture.

He began looking around for the first time since he entered the room. The enrichment in the room was slim to none, including a couple potted plants and jungle sounds playing over a speaker. On the far left, the floor gave away to lower platform filled with a fluffy mulch substrate. There was a counter and sink in the corner for filling bowls of water, and a couple children's toy-esque platforms for the hatchlings to jump up on. Obviously, the EnviStim had some room for improvement, and Owen couldn't help but feel a little less excited for the raptors. However, the creatures themselves appeared to be enjoying their time there.

With a smile, he lowered himself to the ground again, catching the attention of the velociraptors. So they didn’t like to be touched. He could work with that. Never in a million years did he imagine he’d get this close to such interesting and intelligent animals, and while he still had an underlying layer of fear when around them, it was worth it for the experience… and economic security.

The three dinosaurs bounced forward, sniffing at Owen’s boots once again. -B sneezed and he replied with a quiet “Bless you!”

-A’s pale green eyes gleamed up at him. She cocked her head, and Owen did as well. They all seemed curious about him, as though they weren’t used to people staying in their space for this long, which from Owen’s experience of watching the lab workers, was certainly true. However, they seemed to welcome his presence.

Putting one hand to the ground and being careful to not kick the small dinosaurs, he sat comfortably on the ground, his legs in front of him and hands close to his body. As he moved, the raptors leaped backwards, screeching at him in confusion before settling as he did. -B scuttled in closer to his legs, watching him carefully as she approached. For a moment, Owen was nervous she’d decide to bite into his thigh, but she never did. Seemingly enjoying his warmth, she laid down against the outside of his leg, and the other two followed suit.

-B snored with a vibrating hum that was the loudest of all of them. “What is that noise you’re making, Bee?” He asked. Calling the raptors by their file names was becoming increasingly more discontenting. -B could always be Bee, considering she buzzed like one, but what about the others?

-A’s glimmering green eyes reminded him of something sour or bitter, like a wedge of lime on a cold beer - but perhaps Wedge would be too cute of a name. He considered it as one of the options, along with Tango or Twist. -C would be a little harder to figure out, but Owen decided he’d have plenty of time to figure things out with her.

Owen spent the next fifteen-or-so minutes with the velociraptors, before checking his wristwatch - one of the more organizational items he owned - for how much time he had spent with them. Deciding it was time he went, he gingerly broke contact, not waking the two leaning on his leg. It was lucky he'd been allowed this time with them in the first place, especially considering Valarie was helping him sneak in, and overstaying his welcome was not his intent. After all, he had other things to do today as well, and at this rate, he might never leave.

Stepping away, his boots made a quiet click as he approached the door and left, looking back one last time. The raptors were curling close together in their slumber, and seemed undisturbed.

Opening into the dark buffer room, the door fell closed, locking behind him. Shockingly, Valarie was no longer in sight. Confused by her disappearance, he lumbered out into the lab.

As it was before, the lab was dark and empty; a desolate blue and grey space that smelled like static electricity, which was a scent that frequently and upsettingly stuck to Owen's clothes. The outer lab was way less lively in the afternoon when the dinosaurs slept, which was fine with him. Slipping off the remaining glove and turning right to a nearby cabinet, he decided to clean up his things and check out.

“Grady?” A voice asked on his left.

Owen looked over his shoulder to see an approaching slim man with black hair and a lab coat. His arms were flat against his sides and his demeanor was relaxed, yet there was something about his aged face and dark eyes that indicated a cunning intelligence.

“Call me Owen…” He said, looking curiously at the man. He was obviously in charge of something, but while familiar, Owen had not met him personally before.

“Owen,” He began, addressing him with formality. His voice was low and calm. “I’m Henry Wu, I created the genome for the raptors by hand 23 years ago. Of course, minor modifications had to be made to perfect them in the time since, but raptors have always been interesting to work on.” He said, seemingly making an attempt at humility.

Owen nodded in response, shifting his own disposition to a comfortable near-silence and stepping away to place the glove back in the drawer by the EnviStim door. Henry Wu’s name had been passed around a couple times since he had arrived at Nublar, and it was no surprise why. Wu had been an important part as the lead scientist of the Jurassic parks since its beginning in 1993, but had more recently been trusted by Simon Masrani to lead the new park’s bioengineering.

“You’re the one Hoskins hired, yes? Co-director of the I.B.R.I.S project?”

He stood up straight, turning back to Wu and meeting his eyes with respect. “Yeah,” He murmured, shaking the scientist’s hand. “Y’know, I’m surprised I haven’t met you yet.”

“As am I…” Wu told him, looking comfortable. “Well, not met formally anyway, I of course approved your paperwork for clearance into the lab a long time ago, but perhaps we work on different schedules. I have been awfully busy lately.” He offered.

Owen moved around Wu to place his jacket on a nearby counter. “So how come you’re meeting me now?”

Wu’s eyes followed as Owen moved across the lab, cleaning the things he’d left out. “Call it a lucky accident, perhaps.” Owen doubted that was true; he couldn’t help but feel the situation was orchestrated as he scanned the man’s eyes. “But it’s interesting that you found your way into the EnviStim.”

“Oh, shit.” Owen said, eyes widened. Of all times to meet someone in charge, it had to be when he was breaking rules. Most of all, he hoped Valarie wouldn’t be in trouble for helping him sneak into the restricted part of the lab. Maybe if she had left soon enough, Wu didn’t even see she was involved in Owen’s sneaking around.

Wu chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “You can relax. Valarie told me everything before I let her go for the day, and I understand why you wanted to get closer to them. The decision seemed questionable at first, but if you’re to be training the raptors, as Hoskins says, it makes no sense why you should be excluded.”

Owen sighed, most of the tension leaving his body. At least he didn’t have to be concerned about getting fired by the boss, but he still wanted to leave and go home. It was currently empty of most furniture, but the warm and quiet bungalow was waiting for him and he was exhausted.

“So, what did you think of them?” Asked Wu with a curious but subtle grin.

Owen squinted, trying to pull the right words out of thin air. “Um...they’re interesting. Not hard to work with, but they keep surprising me.” He said with raised eyebrows and a smile.

“That’s to be expected.” Wu told him with a grin, “They’ve always exhibited extreme intellect. Even so soon, I’m sure you’ve noticed them planning attacks.” He gestured with a pointed finger to the EnviStim.

“I guess that’s what I’m scared of.” Owen chuckled, looking down at his shoes.

A moment passed, and he felt as though the conversation was coming to a close. However, something was sticking with him. “Do you think it’s possible? Training ‘em?” He asked, brow furrowing. If there was anyone to ask about his concerns, it would be Wu.

Wu wore a smile that said Owen had asked exactly what he wanted him to, to which Owen felt regret for the question. “Well, I… certainly would’ve never considered it.” He said looking to the ground. “iNGen has always given me great opportunity-”

Owen cut him off, “But it seems a bit farfetched.” In all honesty, he agreed. He wasn’t sure it could be done either. Containing the creatures would be a task in-and-of-itself.

“Raptors show great intelligence. Training them is certainly an experiment I support.” He said matter-of-factly, his voice stern. “My concern is with the people training them.”

Owen flinched, not exactly offended, but confused.

“It’s concerning that you so quickly assume it cannot be accomplished, while a man like Hoskins controls everything and so boldly assumes it can.” Dr Wu said, unfolding his arms, and holding onto the counter behind him.

Owen shifted his gaze to the ground as he listened intently to the man’s words; he understood what Wu meant, though. Hoskins seemed a little too sure of a lot of things, and it was easy to pick up on his brash and disconcerting confidence. However, Owen was on the apprehensive side of the whole topic, which was also easy to see.

“But in seeing you now, I found out exactly what I wanted to.”

Owen looked back up at Wu, raising an eyebrow questioningly. “And what was that?”

The tension left Wu’s face. “You learn… In fact, I‘m quite interested to see how you take this responsibility. It takes a certain kind of adaptability to work with velociraptors, which I’m sure you’ve noticed. Adaptability that Hoskins doesn’t have, despite his insistence.”

“Thank you, but… I don’t understand.” Owen said, carefully choosing his words.

Wu paused, his expression unreadable, “I’ve been working in his presence for many years, Owen. His ideas are strong, but his execution is weak and often times messy. I would be careful around him.” He spoke slowly, holding his hands together.

“What do you mean?”

“He has a strong personality that works to his benefit. He has done countless things for this establishment but if you don’t show initiative, Victor Hoskins is a man who will enforce dominance to get what he wants.”

Owen felt bewildered, the words resonating in his ears as if he’d heard them before. Perhaps that was something he always knew, but even so, the way Wu shared the information sounded like a warning. He looked through the man, processing his thoughts on the subject.

Wu floated around the room, following up on the newest notes surrounding the hatchlings growth. He seemed approving and even made a couple comments to Owen, to which he responded with no more than a word or two. The rest of his time with the man went by quickly; Owen left the scientist with the raptors, grabbing his things and parting ways with Wu. It wasn’t long after that, he left the park and was on his way home.

Home, He thought. Owen had always drifted around in adulthood; it wasn’t hard for him to get attached to a new place. The bungalow was one of his favorites so far though, and he had plenty of plans for rustic decorating. The trailer was another story altogether, just existing as its own disaster aside from home, and he wasn't quite sure what he'd be doing with it yet.

Once again, he ground below his wheels turned to mud, as he rolled over jutting rocks and around mountainous hills. About an hour into the drive, his mind couldn't help but slip back into the conversation he'd had with Wu. Owen sighed; it was as if there wasn't a single normal work day here at Nublar. What did he mean by “be careful”? He thought. And how exactly do I go about that?

Owen hadn't considered those questions during their exchange, all of the info seeming simple enough at the time, and maybe it still was... Hoskins simply needed a strong co-director who could match his expectations. But how far would his expectations go?

Rain began to trickle from the sky as he parked by the lake. It was about 6 PM, and with exhaustion aching in his muscles, he walked up the bungalow stairs. The lake was lit a dim pink as the sky glowed with a pale orange haze. The surrounding jungle felt heavy with humidity. Once inside, he fell with a thump on his bed.

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