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aquaquadrant · 2 years

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nature’s productions - chapter eight

Rated T for: Language, PTSD, blood/injury, violence, gore, death, past animal death. Summary: Three years after the disaster at Jurassic World, Claire Dearing and Owen Grady are contracted for a mission to save as many dinosaurs as possible from the impending eruption on Isla Nublar. But when they arrive, they experience an unexpected complication; six teenagers who were left stranded on the island when the park closed.

Surviving has left the campers scarred in more ways than one, and they’re pretty sure that their would-be rescuers have less than good intentions. But with a volcanic eruption at their heels, they’ll do whatever it takes to get a ride home- and save the dinosaurs while they’re at it, because that’s kind of their thing.

A/N: Hey guys, sorry this was a little delayed! I was away this weekend visiting family. But hey, this chapter is a whopping 11k words, so hopefully that makes up for it! Lots of things happening in this one, take extra caution with all the violence warnings, and please reblog/comment if you enjoy! - Aqua

(Read on A03 for previous chapters and complete tags)

~*~

chapter eight - mutual affinities of the organic being

~*~

As soon as Darius disappears into the vent, Sammy races over to the control panel.

She scans the various screens and buttons quickly. In a surprising turn of events, everything is actually labeled- but of course, it’s not in a language she can read. That’d be way too easy. What even is that, Russian? Hopefully she’ll be able to figure this out by looks alone.

One screen seems to depict the ship’s sonar, with numbers along the side and the bottom depicting their position. There are a few fancy compasses set into the panel, an assortment of knobs and dials, and a large handle right next to the wheel. Like one of those handles that controls the speed of the rides at the county fair.

Sammy glances over her shoulder at the captain, still tied up in the corner. “Is this what controls the engine?” she asks, pointing at it.

The captain turns away from her sullenly, but she caught the brief flash of surprise in his eyes and has an idea what that might mean.

Well, they still aren’t moving because the engines are sabotaged, so it can’t hurt to try. Sammy grabs the handle and pulls it down to what she hopes is zero. There’s no change in the other instruments, no sudden alarms or beeping, so she marks it down as a success. Once the others get here, Kenji or Brooklynn should be able to tell for certain whether the engine is off. Just in case someone out there manages to actually fix it.

With that handled, Sammy starts looking for the radio. Luckily, it’s easily recognizable; a standard black speaker with a dial for frequency and an attached receiver. Sammy unhooks it and holds the button down while she speaks.

“Mayday, mayday, anyone out there?”

Nothing but static. Sammy tries again, slowly turning the dial through different frequencies as she repeats her message. She’s watching the captain out of the corner of her eye just in case he tries anything, but also hoping for some indication as to whether she’s doing this correctly or not. It’d be pretty embarrassing if she missed something simple, like turning it on-

“This is Mexico Maritime Search and Rescue, MRCC Mazatlan.” A man’s voice with a strong Hispanic accent crackles out of the radio. “We’ve received your distress signal, do you copy?”

Sammy gasps, nearly dropping the receiver in her surprise. Over in the corner, the captain makes a sound that might’ve been a swear; hard to tell with the gag.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Sammy says, relief washing over her. “Yes, yes, I copy! My name’s Sammy, y’all have no idea how happy I am to hear you!”

“Okay, Sammy, what is your current position?”

It takes Sammy a moment to find the right screen. “Uh, our latitude is twenty-six, longitude is negative one-eighteen,” she reads, squinting. “At least, I sure hope I’m readin’ this thing correctly…”

“And what is your emergency?”

“Well, me an’ my friends have stowed away on this big ol’ cargo ship that’s stolen a bunch’a dinos from Isla Nublar.”

There’s a pause.

“... please verify, you are on a ship that is in possession of dinosaurs?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Sammy says. “Probably at least fifty of ‘em. We don’t know where they’re headed, but they plan to sell ‘em on the black market.”

“Okay, I’m dispatching a patrol to your position now.” The voice sounds a little more urgent. “Can you tell me more about your situation?”

“Oh, sure!” Sammy’s mind races; there’s so much to tell, where does she even start? “Right now I’m holed up in the bridge, I’ve got the captain tied up here an’ the door’s locked. My friends are supposed to meet me here. Darius is off savin’ Ben from the bad guys and the others just got done sabotaging the ship’s engines, so we’re dead in the water. Should make it easy for y’all to find us.”

“I see,” the voice says after a moment.

A sudden thought occurs to Sammy. “Also,” she adds, “I should probably mention that we’ve been stuck on Nublar for the last three years. We got left behind when Jurassic World closed. Then this here ship turned up right before the volcano erupted, so we figured we oughta hitch a ride.”

“… alright, Sammy.” The voice is a bit softer now. “Could you give me the full names of you and your friends, and country of citizenship?”

Oh, duh! “My last name is Gutierrez,” Sammy says quickly. “The others are Yasmina Fadoula, Darius Bowman, Benjamin Pincus, Kenji Kon, and Brooklynn Ortega. Except she don’t like to use her last name. We’re all Americans.” She perks up. “Are y’all gonna call our folks?”

“Not directly, we’ll be passing that information to the United States Coast Guard as we coordinate with them for this operation.”

“Oh, okay,” Sammy says, trying not to sound disappointed. She knows that right now, contacting their parents is probably the least of any government’s concerns, with a freighter full of dinosaurs and traffickers drifting along the pacific coast.

Which reminds her of something else she should tell them about.

“By the way, there’s some other people here that are helpin’ us,” she says. “They didn’t know this was a trafficking operation when they agreed to come. Claire Dearing is one of ‘em, I don’t know the other’s last names but they’re Owen, Zia, and Franklin. So once y’all get here, make sure not to hurt ‘em, they’re on our side.”

“Oh, alright.” The voice sounds taken aback. “I’ll make sure the boarding patrol is made aware. Isla Nublar is under UN quarantine, so we’re going to try to get ahold of a representative to assist us.”

Sammy blinks in surprise. She vaguely recalls Mitch saying something about that, what seems like a lifetime ago. If the United Nations have taken responsibility over Isla Nublar, then they’ll probably be responsible for the dinosaurs, too. She supposes it’ll be good to have some real manpower behind the effort to relocate all these animals.

Speaking of relocation, they ought to figure out where, exactly, they’re going to put them all.

“Gosh, I almost forgot,” she says, smacking her forehead. “These folks claimed they were sent here by a fella named Lockwood. I guess he was old business partners with the guy who made the first Jurassic Park? There was supposedly a sanctuary prepared for the dinos, so if y’all could look into that, I’d sure appreciate it. We’ll need a place to put them all, and Nublar probably isn’t an option with the whole volcano thing.”

“Okay, I’ll pass that along,” the voice replies. “The patrol is about twenty minutes out from your location. I need to speak to some other people now, please stay by your radio and alert us if your situation changes.”

“Will do!” Sammy says cheerily.

The radio goes silent. Sammy lets out a heavy breath as reality starts to sink in.

They’re finally being rescued. Like, really truly rescued by government authorities. With the patrol on its way and the UN about to get involved, the chance of these crooks slipping away is almost zero. Even if someone happened to breach the room and get the ship moving again, their location is known, and a ship this big is slow and easy to spot.

All they have to do now is not get killed in the next twenty minutes.

… that might be easier said than done.

~*~

“I think we’re clear now.”

Brooklynn’s sudden whisper makes Yaz jolt. “You sure?” she breathes, squinting to try and make out the other girl’s face in the scarce lighting. The room they’ve taken shelter inside is dark, but they don’t dare turn on the lights.

They were almost back at the hold when the ship finally stopped moving. Wheatley’s announcement came moments later, and the sudden surge of crew members to the engine room had forced them to duck through a side door, into an inky black room. And there they’ve waited, the minutes passing in heart-pounding silence as new footsteps thundered past them every few seconds.

There’s a moment of silence before Brooklynn replies; either she’s pressed her ear to the door, double-checking that the coast is clear, or she’s forgotten that Yaz can’t see her nod. “Yeah,” she says. “Ready?”

“Yup,” comes Kenji’s voice beside Yaz. “You good?”

“Yeah.” Yaz takes a steadying breath. “I’m good.”

Her ankle has just about reached its limit for the day, but she isn’t going to let herself slow them down. Not now, when they’re in the home stretch. All they have to do is get to the bridge, and then they’re home free. She can tough it out for a few more minutes.

“Alright.” Brooklynn’s voice is tight with nerves. “Three, two, one, go!”

She slides open the door, and they take off down the hallway. The sudden glare of fluorescent lights is a little jarring, but Yaz’s eyes quickly adjust. She keeps pace beside Brooklynn, guarding her blind spot, as Kenji brings up the rear.

Already, Yaz’s ankle is starting to ache. Stubbornly, she pushes it down and keeps running.

After a couple more turns, the hallway opens up into the hold. They dart behind a shipping container, pausing to catch their breath as Brooklynn peeks around the corner.

“Okay, now we just need to get upstairs,” she says lowly. “Look, there’s a couple ramps on the far side that might lead to the deck. We should be able to find a way up to the bridge from there.”

Yaz follows her gaze; they’ll have to cross pretty much the entire hold, with its maze of vehicles and crates. But hopefully most of the crew is preoccupied with the engines, and they won’t have to sprint the whole way.

Kenji catches her eye, and she waves him off before he can ask. “Lead the way,” she tells Brooklynn.

As they take off again, Yaz tries to envision a finish line waiting for her at the bridge. Her racing days feel like a lifetime ago, but sometimes she still draws motivation from them. Not that anyone really needs motivation to keep going when they’re being chased by dinosaurs, but still. It helps her push through the discomfort of her injury. She’s competed with injuries before, spurred on by the knowledge that she’d be able to rest when it was over.

This is perhaps the first time in these last three years that she can really count on that promise again. Back on Nublar, she could never truly rest because it was never truly over.

Sure, there was a recovery period every time they escaped certain death. Brief moments of safety up in their clubhouse, quiet days where they had no reason to leave. But it was never long before the next threat reared its ugly head, and for that reason alone Yaz couldn’t relax.

She isn’t sure she even knows how to relax anymore. But there’s no point in thinking about what’s next until after it’s all over. It’s almost over, she just needs to hang on a little longer-

A loud crash echoes throughout the hold.

Instantly, the three of them stop running and go back-to-back. Yaz keeps a hand on her knife, quickly scanning their surroundings as Brooklynn cranes her head to listen. It’s not long before another crash rings out, followed by what is unmistakably a dinosaur’s roar.

Brooklynn inhales sharply. “It’s Bumpy!” she says, without any trace of uncertainty in her voice. Aside from Ben, she’s spent the most time with the Ankylosaurus out of all of them, and would be best able to recognize her by sound alone.

Yaz’s knees go weak with relief. “Thank god,” she breathes. “Guess that means Ben pulled it off?”

“Sounds like it,” Kenji says proudly. He glances off in the direction the noise came from. “Should we go make sure he doesn’t need any help?”

Brooklynn makes a noncommittal noise. “Darius told us to come straight to the bridge when we were done. Besides, he’s got Bumpy with him. I’m sure he’s fine.”

There’s another bellow, and Kenji frowns. “Hey, isn’t it weird that we’re only hearing Bumpy?” he asks, his voice now tinged with concern. “Usually Ben would be screaming along with her to like, establish dominance or something.”

Brooklynn hesitates at that, and Yaz’s stomach drops. He makes a solid point. This isn’t a stealth mission- for a big distraction like this, Ben would definitely be trying to draw as much attention to himself as possible.

“You’re right,” Brooklynn says uneasily. “I don’t hear him at all. Maybe we should go check, just in case.”

Yaz nods her agreement, and the three of them start off in the direction of all the commotion. It’s taking them a little way’s off their intended path, backtracking towards the center of the hold, but it hardly matters when one of them might be in trouble.

The sounds get louder as they approach; Bumpy roaring, metal screeching, and even people shouting in alarm, but still no Ben. As soon as they’re close, Brooklynn signals for them to sneak up, creeping alongside a large shipping container to peek around the corner.

It’s definitely Bumpy. To this day, Yaz has never seen another Ankylosaurus with her unique coloring, and the asymmetric head bumps are indisputable. She’s swinging her clubbed tail at the mercenaries trying to surround her, forcing them to dive out of the way. Several of the nearby vehicles have giant dents in them. All in all, it’s a brilliant distraction that seems to have gone exactly to Darius’s plan.

Except Ben’s not here.

Bumpy’s back is conspicuously empty, and there’s no sign of him in the immediate area. It wouldn’t be like him at all to hide while Bumpy takes the heat- unless he was planning an ambush. But as they watch from the shadows, it’s obvious that Bumpy is fighting on her own. She looks highly distressed and not entirely focused on the mercenaries, almost treating them like an afterthought as she charges around the hold and roars.

Kenji’s jaw is tight as he desperately scans the area. “Where is he?” he mutters.

Bumpy charges at the mercenaries, and they make the collective decision to retreat- with a lot of panicked shouting. Coming to a stop, Bumpy gives a derisive bellow and beats her tail against the ground, the vibration shuddering through Yaz’s feet.

“Bumpy!” Brooklynn calls softly, taking a cautious step out from behind the container. “It’s okay, girl, it’s us!”

At the sound of her voice, Bumpy whirls around with a startled rumble. Upon recognizing them, she hurries over- only to stop short once she realizes Ben isn’t with them. Bumpy sniffs the air and lets out a dismayed chuff, shaking her head like there are flies buzzing in her face.

“It’s okay,” Brooklynn says again, reaching a hand out to the Ankylosaurus. “I know, Ben’s not with us. We can-”

Bumpy cuts her off with another apprehensive roar, turning away from them.

Instantly, Yaz tackles Brooklynn to the ground. The Ankylosaurus’s heavy tail swings around over their heads with enough force to cave in their skulls.

Without so much as a second glance, Bumpy lopes off in the direction the mercenaries had gone, disappearing into the maze of trailers. After a couple seconds, the cacophony of noise starts anew; clearly, Bumpy is on a mission. It’s almost enough to make Yaz feel bad for the mercenaries.

Almost.

Exhaling slowly, Yaz picks herself up, one hand braced against the shipping container for support. “Not quite the warm welcome I was expecting.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Brooklynn says shakily, rising to her feet. “Whatever happened to Ben, it’s got her pretty upset.”

“Hey guys!” Kenji calls suddenly; while they were dealing with Bumpy, he’s crept around the other side of the shipping container. “Come look at this!”

Yaz exchanges a surprised look with Brooklynn, and they quickly run to meet him. Kenji’s got his back to them, crouched beside a transport vehicle whose metal doors are flung wide open; smashed and barely hanging on to their hinges.

“This must be where they were holding her,” Brooklynn realizes, circling around to stop beside Kenji. “What’re you- oh.”

Kenji straightens up, turning around with something familiar in his hands: Ben’s spear, broken in two. It was snapped a few inches from the spearhead- though whether it was intentional or not, Yaz can’t say.

“He was here,” Kenji says urgently.

Yaz knits her brows together, studying the spearhead. “Look, this blood is fresh,” she points out, her heart jolting. “There must’ve been a fight.”

“I don’t think anyone was seriously hurt,” Brooklynn chimes in, her sharp gaze sweeping over the floor. “There’s not enough blood for that. But if this was left behind, then-”

“Ben’s been captured,” Kenji finishes, his voice wooden.

Yaz’s stomach sinks. As much as she doesn’t want it to be true, it’s the only explanation that makes sense. Nothing else would’ve taken Ben away from Bumpy.

Brooklynn kneels next to the front cab of the vehicle, poking her head inside. “These wires were cut,” she calls over her shoulder. “That must’ve unlocked the doors. But he wasn’t around long enough to actually open them, so Bumpy had to break herself out. It had to have happened pretty recently.”

“Where do you think they took him?” Kenji asks anxiously.

Brooklynn straightens up, dusting off her knees. “My guess would be to the man in charge.”

“Wheatley?” Yaz surmises. “So you think he’s at the bridge?”

“It’s as good a guess as any,” Brooklynn says, folding her arms. “Besides, we won’t be able to search the whole ship. And if I know Ben, he’ll escape before we even have a chance to track him down. We should go to the bridge and meet up with the MVC, see what they know. If Ben’s not there, we’ll figure out what to do.”

“Okay, you’re right,” Kenji relents, though he still looks unhappy. He sets the shaft of the spear down, pocketing the spearhead. “We should get moving, then.”

They set off yet again, the sounds of Bumpy’s rampage fading behind them. Now that Ben is a concern, their speed has picked up even despite how exhausted they all are. It’s been a long day, to say the least. Yaz just keeps reminding herself that it’s almost over, like a silent mantra chanting through her head.

Soon enough, they’re sprinting up the steep metal ramp out onto the deck. It’s actually darker out here than it was in the hold. At some point, the sun had finally sunk below the horizon, leaving the deck shrouded in shadow. The only light comes from the nearly full moon hanging low in the sky- the crew must’ve turned the external lights off to decrease the chance of being spotted.

Most of the deck is occupied by rows of even more shipping containers, moonlight glinting off their metal walls, and a low fog drifts through the air. Overall, it’s got an eerie sort of feel to it. Yaz vividly remembers being chased by two Ouranosauruses in a similar setting, and suppresses a shiver.

“This way,” Brooklynn whispers, shaking Yaz from her thoughts. “It looks like there’s a door leading inside the upper levels.”

Sticking close together, they move quickly and quietly across the deck. With so many crew members inside the ship, trying to fix the engines or round up Bumpy, it’s virtually a ghost town out here. Yaz’s breathing is almost deafening in the oppressive silence, nothing but groaning metal and crashing waves to fill the air.

But Brooklynn still seems to be keeping an ear out, as always, because she suddenly holds a hand up to stop them.

Kenji puts a hand on his machete, tilting his head in a silent question. Brooklynn shakes her head uncertainly, signing ‘wait.’ Yaz strains to hear whatever Brooklynn caught wind of- and can now make out the sound of rapid footsteps that are steadily growing louder.

Different scenarios flash through her mind. They sound too fast and light to be any of the larger dinosaurs- and of course, the only dinosaur that should be free right now is Bumpy. Most likely, it’s a mercenary. But something about them doesn’t sound human; they don’t echo the way shoes on a hard surface should-

Abruptly, the footsteps stop.

Yaz shifts closer to Brooklynn and Kenji. Their backs are pressed together, hands creeping towards their weapons, gazes darting around anxiously. It’s just as silent as it was before they heard the footsteps, but something feels off. Yaz’s skin is crawling, almost like a sixth sense she’s developed since living on the island. Like she can feel when she’s being watched… or perhaps more accurately, when she’s being hunted-

A shriek pierces the air as a figure leaps out of the shadows, landing in front of Yaz with a heavy thump.

Blue.

Scarce moonlight ripples across the raptor, leaving most of her form shrouded in darkness. But as she curls back her lips to hiss at them, her teeth catch the light, illuminating the fresh blood that stains them. Her blazing amber eyes almost appear to be glowing, those slit-like pupils staring Yaz down through her very soul.

And Yaz freezes.

All of a sudden, it’s like every muscle in her body has turned to stone. Brooklynn and Kenji have spun around to face Blue, but Yaz is rooted to the spot. Her hand hovers by her knife. Her breathing turns shallow. Her heart starts to race. A distant, detached part of her mind abruptly grasps the gravity of the situation, dread settling cold and heavy in her stomach.

There’s a dinosaur in front of her, and Yaz can’t move.

Blue’s talons click against the deck, a warning growl starting in her throat as she takes a step forward. Her head jerks around erratically, tail lashing behind her as her claws flex aimlessly. Altogether, she seems highly agitated, sides heaving as she pants and sniffs the air.

“We’re alright,” Brooklynn says, her voice low. “Just back up slowly.”

Together, Brooklynn and Kenji take a slow, careful step back, disappearing from Yaz’s peripheral vision.

Yaz’s body refuses to comply. She can’t tear her gaze away from Blue, even as her eyes start to water and she absently realizes that such a staredown could be taken as a challenge. For the first time in her life, it’s as if she’s completely unable to control herself, and the horror of it is almost enough to match the horror of the nightmare creature staring back at her.

“Yaz,” Kenji whispers urgently, somewhere behind her. “You okay?”

Yaz can’t even respond, her attempt getting caught in her throat. Her fingers twitch helplessly mere inches from her knife’s handle as Blue’s legs coil beneath her, snarling a warning.

‘She’s going to attack me,’ Yaz thinks distantly, her mind screaming for her to move, move, move-

Kenji steps in front of her.

“Hey Blue,” he says softly, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “It’s okay.”

Blue rumbles an uncertain growl, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Brooklynn takes a careful step next to Yaz, tugging on her arm even as she leans in to whisper in Kenji’s ear.

“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice tight with restrained panic.

“It’s okay,” Kenji says quietly, keeping his focus on Blue. “I’ve seen Darius do this before.” He stretches his right hand out towards Blue. “It’s alright, Blue, we’re not gonna hurt you. We’re cool, remember? We-”

Blue snaps at his fingers.

Kenji jerks his hand back with a yelp. Stepping back, he quickly curls it to his chest, but not before Yaz sees a flash of red.

Brooklynn glances at him out of the corner of her eye. “She get you?” she murmurs.

“Nipped me, yeah,” Kenji says faintly, a crooked grin pulling at his lips even as he keeps his eyes on Blue. “Guess I’m no dino whisperer.”

Blue’s teeth gnash together, her claws clenching and unclenching rapidly. Her talons scrape the ground like a racehorse at the starting gate. She shakes her head wildly, a tremor running through her body as her nostrils flare and her pupils start to dilate.

“We have to go,” Brooklynn breathes, her grip tightening around Yaz’s arm. “She can’t be reasoned with right now, she’s too keyed up.”

Leaving sounds great to Yaz. Unfortunately, her body doesn’t seem to be on board. Oh well. She had a good run. At least Brooklynn and Kenji will have time to escape while Blue is busy turning Yaz into deli meat-

“Hey, who’s there?”

The shout comes from behind them; a man’s demanding voice. He must have a flashlight because light suddenly floods in their direction, fully illuminating Blue in all her terrible glory.

Blue screeches, jaws spread wide and lips peeled back to show all her teeth. In unspoken agreement, Kenji dives out of the way and Brooklynn tackles Yaz to the ground as the raptor goes sailing over their heads. She lands on the other side and keeps going, the man screaming in terror as he sees her for the first time. The light goes out, and then the real screaming starts.

Just like that, the spell is broken.

Yaz scrambles to her feet, gasping for breath like she’s just surfaced from a deep dive. Brooklynn’s hand is still gripping her arm and Kenji’s right behind them as they start to run, the man’s screams and Blue’s roars fading behind them.

(Later, when they’re safe, Yaz will feel guilty. She’ll be horrified and ashamed at how she froze up, how her sudden inability to act almost cost Brooklynn and Kenji their lives. Because she’s not supposed to get scared like that. She’s faced down predators five times Blue’s size before, and has never experienced anything like that, not once in three years of living on a dinosaur-infested island. This was new, and she’ll be terrified of what it means for her.)

But for right now, there isn’t a single thought in Yaz’s mind except for running.

So Yaz runs.

~*~

The vent grate clatters to the floor with a jarring smack, and Darius lands on top of it.

Wheatley has barely turned towards the sudden noise when Darius tackles him. He has the element of surprise on his side; the impact knocks the gun out of Wheatley’s hand. But it’s not enough to actually throw him to the ground. With a surprised shout, Wheatley staggers back a few steps, struggling to dislodge Darius with only one working hand.

“So kind of you to join us,” Wheatley sneers.

Darius doesn’t reply, his eyes fierce as he grapples with Wheatley.

Darius won’t be able to hold him long, Ben realizes. Wheatley is much bigger and stronger than him, and Darius has always been less inclined to combat than the rest of the herd. But he’s given Ben a chance.

That’s all he needs.

Ben rocks forward onto his toes, enough that all four legs of the chair come off the ground behind him and the weight almost tips him forward- before he pushes off his feet and throws himself backwards.

Impact shudders through his body. The chair’s legs hit the ground with a loud snap, splintering into pieces beneath him as the seat comes apart from the back. Ben uses the momentum to roll backward, landing in a crouch as the ropes fall loose around him.

He comes up just in time to see Wheatley throw Darius against the wall. He lands with a heavy thud, gasping as the air is knocked out of him.

Legs coiling beneath him, Ben dives for the fallen gun- but Wheatley’s already there. He intercepts Ben using his body as a shield, his hand darting forward to snatch Ben by the throat.

Grabbing Wheatley’s arm to use as leverage, Ben drives his knee into Wheatley’s gut. The hold around his throat loosens, and Ben presses his advantage.

Jab, jab, swipe. He goes on the attack, aiming his hits towards Wheatley’s face. The time for restraint is over; there’s only the feeling of flesh and bone beneath his fists as adrenaline courses through his veins.

The first couple punches hit their mark before Wheatley brings his arms up to block. Ben shifts focus; he latches onto Wheatley’s injured hand, digging his fingers into the fresh bite wound.

“Motherfucker!” Wheatley screams, swinging his arm to try and throw Ben off.

At the same moment, Darius leaps onto Wheatley’s back, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck. Wheatley stumbles around wildly, trying to shake them, his eyes wide as he chokes-

Then he slams his back against a wall, and Darius with him. Ben hears the crack of Darius’s head against metal before he slumps to the floor.

Alarm shoots through Ben. But he can’t even cry out to Darius because Wheatley lands a sound kick in his stomach, knocking him back a few steps. By the time Ben has recovered himself, Wheatley’s turned to snatch his gun off the floor.

Every other thought vanishes from Ben’s mind.

Ben rushes him on instinct, lunging forward to grab him by the wrists. He steps into Wheately’s space, close enough that the gun is held beside his head instead of in front of it, making it impossible for Wheatley to aim at him. He tries to headbutt Wheatley to unbalance him, but Wheatley jerks his head back, out of reach- so Ben’s forehead smashes his nose instead.

There’s a satisfying crunch. Blood starts to stream down Wheatley’s face. His eyes flash with rage as he struggles against Ben’s grip.

Ben’s arms tremble with the effort of holding Wheatley back, but he doesn’t buckle. Wheatley tries to kick him, but Ben brings his own knee up to block, baring his teeth in defiance. They’re caught in a stalemate, neither willing to yield so much as an inch- but the difference is that Ben has backup.

Behind Wheatley, Darius is rolling onto his hands and knees. He’s a little disoriented, one hand clutching his head, but it won’t be long before he’s back in the fight.

Wheatley seems to realize this. “I’ve had about enough of you!” he snaps.

He pulls the trigger.

The gun discharges right next to Ben’s ear, and his world erupts into pain.

It’s less of a sound and more of a feeling, the gunshot tearing through his skull. A sudden and intense pressure seizes him, so strongly that every other sensation vanishes. He can’t tell if he’s screaming. He can’t tell if his eyes are closed or if he’s actually been blinded by the pain the way his panicked brain seems to think. He can’t move, he can’t think, he can’t breathe, oh god oh god-

Then it passes. Ben slowly comes back into awareness; he’s on the floor, his cheek pressed against cool tile, though he can’t remember how he got there. Something warm is trickling out of his ear. And then it dawns on him that everything is silent- save for the high-pitched ringing in his skull.

Ben lifts his head. It takes great effort, and feels as if everything’s moving in slow motion.

In front of him, Darius is fighting Wheatley. He’s drawn his knife now, the weapon clutched in a shaky hand as he stabs and slashes at Wheatley with fervent desperation. His mouth is open in a scream that Ben cannot hear. Not above the ringing. It’s a surreal sight, like watching a silent movie as an alarm blares in the background.

Wheatley is bleeding in more than a couple places now from shallow gashes, but it doesn’t slow him down. He grabs Darius by the front of his shirt, lifts him off the ground, and throws him against the wall. Ben can’t hear the thud, but he feels the vibration hum through his skin. The knife slips out of Darius’s grasp, skittering across the floor.

Ben struggles to push himself upright. His vision is spinning and his head feels like it’s going to fall off his shoulders, nausea churning in his stomach. As Wheately advances on Darius, Ben looks around desperately for something, anything he can use- then his gaze falls on the heap of the broken metal folding chair.

Looming over Darius, Wheatley raises his gun.

Ben’s fingers curl around a snapped chair leg; a thin, hollow shaft with one sharp end.

(When Ben decided to make his first spear, all that time ago, it was solely based on convenience. With his limited knowledge and resources, he had no way of making any other kind of weapon. But he soon found he liked the reach a spear gave him, allowing him to fend off dinosaurs without getting too close. And even better, he could throw his spear as a last resort, knowing he’d have the means to replace it later. So, even when the herd found some spare weapons at Mitch and Tiff’s campsite, he’d decided to stick with spears.

Since then, he’s had a lot of practice. He practiced in the river for hours on end until he could hit the tiny fish with pinpoint accuracy. He practiced striking the trees surrounding their home until he was strong enough to tear through the thick bark even from a great distance. It was difficult work, but his survival depended on it. And more than that, his herd’s survival depended on it. So, he worked to develop strength and accuracy and calluses alike, knowing that someday, someone’s life might depend on his ability with a spear.

Someday, Ben will realize that his time on Nublar has uniquely prepared him for this moment, and that there are very few other people on this planet that could make the throw he’s about to make. But that day is not today.)

All this to say that when Ben throws the shaft of metal at Wheatley’s back, it’s his accuracy that allows it to hit its target dead-on, and it’s his strength that allows it to rip through the layered skin, flesh, and bone to emerge from Wheatley’s ribcage.

Ben doesn’t hear it. From his angle, he just sees the chair leg embed itself in Wheatley’s back, half of its length vanishing as it punctures through to the other side. He sees the blood that splatters onto Darius’s shocked face. He sees the gun fall from Wheatley’s hand and land soundlessly on the floor- the vibration an afterthought- before the body topples along with it.

With one hand braced against the wall, Ben slowly rises to his feet and watches.

Wheatley is writhing on the floor- not dead, but dying. Blood seeps from the wound and bubbles out of his mouth, smearing against the white tile beneath him. His hands twitch at the metal protruding from his chest, legs jerking involuntarily as he chokes on his own blood, eyes wide and bulging and unfocused.

An oddly detached part of Ben is abruptly reminded of Toro, the only other kill he’s ever made besides fish.

After he and Bumpy pushed Toro off the cliff, he hadn’t known if that’d be enough to do the Carnotaurus in. It wasn’t a very high fall, not much more than a single story, but Toro had landed hard on his spine and laid there, writhing in the dirt, screaming a dinosaur’s scream that still haunts Ben in the quiet hours of night.

And Ben had just watched, his harsh breath ringing in his ears as Bumpy shifted uneasily at his side. He’d watched even as his skin crawled and his stomach churned because he had to make sure Toro wasn’t going to get up, because assuming a premature victory could very well end in his death. He’d watched until the dinosaur’s thrashing resulted in a sudden snap, and his cries got strangled in his throat, and his movements weakened into sharp twitches that seemed more involuntary than anything. He’d watched long after Toro had gone completely still and silent because even though he knew what it meant he couldn’t bring himself to move, not until Bumpy finally nudged him in the ribs with enough force to bruise.

(He leaves that part out, whenever he tells the story of Toro’s defeat.)

Ben watches Wheatley die, and can’t bring himself to feel anything. He hadn’t wanted to kill anyone- none of them did. But he made a promise to himself what seems like a lifetime ago, as he’d watched his herd fall apart while their boat went up in flames. He’d promised himself that if they ever got another chance to go home, he’d do whatever it takes to make it happen.

Whatever it takes.

Sudden movement snaps Ben out of his trance, right before Darius wraps him in a hug. He pulls away just as quickly, his eyes brimming with tears as he looks Ben over. His hands are shaking too badly to sign so his mouth is moving, head tilted in an obvious question.

“I can’t hear you,” Ben says.

It’s a strange sensation, to feel his own voice rumble through his chest and have it not reach his ears.

Shock flashes briefly across Darius’s face before sorrow crashes down in his eyes. He squeezes Ben’s shoulders, one hand coming up to form a trembling ‘sorry.’

Ben’s heart tightens. He wipes some blood off Darius’s cheek and gives him an easy smile. “Had to happen at some point, right?”

He’s certain he must be talking too loudly, from the way Darius jolts. Then it’s his turn to sign ‘sorry,’ which makes Darius crack a halfhearted smile. He sobers quickly though, glancing over his shoulder at Wheatley’s motionless corpse before turning back to Ben.

‘Okay?’ he asks, brows knit in concern.

Ben nods. Aside from the ringing in his head and a few bruises, he’s made it through the fight without injury. Of course, maybe he’ll feel differently once his numb shock wears off.

Darius takes a steadying breath. ‘Go, fast.’

He’s right. Wheatley may be permanently out of the picture now, but there’s no telling if anyone else is on the way. The shot Wheatley fired off might’ve drawn attention. And even though many of the crew members are dealing with Bumpy and the sabotaged engines, it’s not like all of them are busy. They should get to the bridge while they still can.

‘Follow,’ Ben agrees.

Darius reclaims his fallen knife, slipping it back onto his belt, before pressing Wheatley’s gun into Ben’s hand. ‘Take,’ he tells him.

Ben takes the gun. Hopefully, he won’t need to use it, but at least they can make sure it’s not laying around here for someone else to find.

Darius swings open the door, and together they dart out into the hallway.

~*~

Brooklynn raps her fist against the door to the bridge.

“Guys!” she calls breathlessly. “It’s us, open up!”

After their encounter with Blue, they’d wasted no time finding their way to the bridge. Yaz and Kenji are slumped against the wall, catching their breath. They seem to be on their last legs- quite literally, in Yaz’s case. Her ankle isn’t bearing weight anymore. And Kenji has his injured hand curled tightly against his shirt, blood seeping into the white fabric.

They’re in rough shape, and Brooklynn wants nothing more than for them to finally rest, barricaded safely inside the bridge and awaiting rescue. Assuming the MVC were actually able to call someone for help using the radio-

There’s a loud clunk of a lock sliding into place, and the door swings open.

“You made it!” Sammy gasps, ushering them inside. She quickly locks the door behind them before whirling around to wrap all three of them in a bear hug. “Gosh, I’m so happy to see y’all!”

“You too,” Brooklynn laughs, despite most of the air being squeezed out of her lungs.

Sammy releases them, taking a step back to look them over. Her gaze falls on Yaz’s ankle almost instantly. “You okay, sweet pea?” she asks, her brows creasing with worry as she offers a hand to Yaz.

“I’m fine,” Yaz says shortly. Then she winces, dipping her head apologetically. “Sorry, I’m okay,” she amends, her voice softer. She lets Sammy guide her to sit, stretching her leg out in front of her, and adds, “Just tired.”

Brooklynn catches Kenji’s gaze out of the corner of her eye, seeing her own concern reflected there. They haven’t forgotten the way Yaz shut down with Blue, but now isn’t the time to bring it up.

Especially because Brooklynn’s just noticed that, besides the man tied up in the corner who she assumes is the captain, there isn’t anyone else in the room.

“Where’s Darius?” she asks.

Sammy winces. “He went to rescue Ben.”

“You saw Ben?” Kenji asks hopefully.

Sammy shakes her head. “Didn’t see him, just heard. They took him somewhere for Wheatley to question him. Darius has only been gone a few minutes.” Then she gives Kenji a double-take, her eyes widening. “Woah, you alright, Kenj?”

Kenji glances down in surprise, as if he’d forgotten about his bleeding hand. “Oh, yeah,” he says ruefully. “We ran into Blue on our way up.”

Sammy’s eyes go even wider. “Blue’s free? Oh, that ain’t good.” She pulls off the gray jacket she’s wearing- which Brooklynn distantly recalls as having previously been in Darius’s possession- and hands it to Kenji. “I’m glad y’all are okay, she’s a real pill without Darius or Ben.”

Kenji takes the jacket and wraps it around his hand. “Don’t I know it,” he chuckles.

Brooklynn turns towards the control panel. “Okay, so the engine is off,” she affirms. “Were you able to reach anyone on the radio?”

“Oh yeah!” Sammy walks up beside her. “Mexico Search and Rescue! Guess we’re in their waters right now. I gave them our position and a short version of the story, and help is on the way. They’re even gettin’ the UN involved!”

The relief those words bring is almost a physical thing. “Thank god,” Brooklynn breathes. “Okay, we need to-”

Someone pounds on the door.

“Hey!” It’s an unfamiliar man’s voice, gruff and angry. “Open this door right now!”

Brooklynn glances over to see a couple mercenaries through the window, looking furious as they shout and bang on the door. Figures that someone would catch up to them eventually, though she would’ve preferred if it was after Darius and Ben got back.

“They can’t get in, right?” Sammy asks nervously.

“Shouldn’t be able to, no,” Brooklynn says, frowning. “But I don’t want them lurking around with Darius and Ben still out there. We need to get rid of them.”

“How?” Kenji pipes up. “Do you mean like… get rid of them?”

Brooklynn shakes her head. “No, I’ve got something else in mind.”

Gaze sweeping over the control panel, Brooklynn spots what looks like a cabinet set into the counter. She pulls it open to reveal a few folders of messy papers inside. Most of the writing is foreign, but as she rifles through the pages, she’s able to recognize what she’s looking for quite easily.

Blueprints, and the ship manifest.

She scans them quickly, an idea already taking shape in her mind. Every lifeboat is clearly marked on the ship’s blueprints and- after doing a rough count of the number of people on the manifest- her suspicion is confirmed.

There are international regulations that stipulate a certain number of required lifeboats based on a ship’s size and number of expected crew. But an illegal operation wouldn’t be held accountable for following them. They’d hire as many people as they needed to get the job done, whether or not there were enough lifeboats for them all. And if ditching a few lifeboats created more room onboard for valuable cargo, well, it’s a no brainer.

Brooklynn clears her throat and holds down the intercom button.

“Attention everyone, this is your new captain speaking,” she says. “The bridge is now under our control, and the authorities are on their way. It’d be in your best interest to surrender now.”

She pours as much conviction into her voice as possible. Right now, they’re on the brink of victory; they just need Darius and Ben to make it back safely, and hold out until help arrives. And they’ll have a better chance of that if Brooklynn can get as many mercenaries as possible to give up and abandon ship. Their very lives might depend on it.

So she puts her shoulders back and speaks with all the confidence of someone who has survived far worse than this, who has stared death in the face and screamed defiance at it, who has been forged and tested by nature itself to handle anything the world can throw at her.

If they can hear all that in her voice, they’ll take her at her word.

“In addition,” she continues, “there are at least two pissed off dinosaurs roaming the ship. A ship that, by the way, doesn’t have enough lifeboats for all of you. Maybe a third, at best. So if you don’t want to end up in federal prison or eaten by a furious velociraptor, you should get to a lifeboat while you still can.”

She casts a sidelong look over at the door. The mercenaries have stopped trying to get in, though she can still see them out there, hovering uncertainly.

“It’s either that, or you’re swimming,” she says pointedly. “Your choice.”

The mercenaries turn tail and run.

Brooklynn exhales slowly, running her hands over her hair. That should get at least some of the mercenaries out of the way. And even if they manage to escape in the lifeboats, it’s not like they’ll be able to outrun the government’s fleet of rescue boats for very long. Their fate was sealed the moment Sammy gave the ship’s coordinates.

“Woo hoo!” Sammy cheers, shaking Brooklynn by the shoulder. “Way to go, Brooklynn!”

“Good thinking,” Yaz praises from her spot on the floor. “What do we do now?”

Brooklynn allows herself a faint smile. “Now, we just need to find Darius and Ben,” she says.

Turning back to the control panel, she focuses on the several screens embedded along its length. A couple of them are on, displaying the ship’s sonar and other diagnostics, but some of them are off. She starts flipping switches and pressing buttons to turn them on, hoping to find a security monitor. Surely a ship this large has a surveillance system in place.

Her efforts are quickly rewarded when one screen turns on to display what looks like a live security feed of a hallway. The video quality is grainy and there’s no audio, but it’s better than nothing. She starts flipping through the channels, switching through the various cameras positioned all over the ship.

“Oh, neat,” Sammy breathes, peeking over her shoulder. “This is like somethin’ outta Esther Stone.”

“Woah, this ship has cameras?” Kenji asks. He’s taken up pacing across the room, cradling his hand to his chest. “I didn’t even notice.”

“To be fair,” Brooklynn says, eyes locked on the screen as different feeds blur past, “we had other things to worry about.”

“Look!” Sammy gasps, pointing at the screen.

The monitor has landed on the view of a tiny room that’s mostly empty- save for a solitary figure. It’s a man laying in a pool of blood, with what looks like some kind of pipe impaled through his chest. From this angle, Brooklynn can’t make out his face, but she’s pretty sure she recognizes him, anyways.

Sammy inhales sharply. “Is that-”

“Wheatley,” Brooklynn confirms.

Maybe the sight would’ve had a greater effect on her three years ago. But she’s witnessed death first hand before and is almost numb to it now. It’s just part of the harsh reality they’re living. The only thing different about this one is that a dinosaur didn’t cause it; it must’ve been Ben or Darius. But she can’t fault either of them because she knows they would’ve only killed if their lives depended on it.

And she can’t say that she’s sorry to see Wheatley go.

“You found him?” Kenji hurries over. “Is he with- oh, shit.” He stops as soon as he sees the screen, eyes widening.

“What is it?” Yaz calls from behind them.

“Wheatley’s dead,” Brooklynn informs her briskly. “Stabbed through the heart. Must’ve been Darius or Ben, but there’s no sign of them.” She starts changing channels again. “Let me see if I can track them down.”

“Damn,” Yaz mumbles. “Bet it was Ben.”

“Probably,” Kenji says plainly.

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Sammy agrees.

Brooklynn says nothing as she continues searching through the security feeds. Part of her is aware that killing a human isn’t something to take lightly- both in terms of emotional impact and legal consequences. Even though it was in self-defense, there will likely be some sort of proceeding to deal with once they make it back to society.

But that’s a worry for another time.

“Wait!” Sammy says suddenly. “Was that them?”

“Hang on,” Brooklynn murmurs, skipping back a couple channels. She’s just able to catch a glimpse of movement, disappearing from the camera’s field of view. Squinting, she tries to follow it through the previous channels, though it’s difficult when she can’t specifically select which one she wants to view-

There’s a knock at the door.

Brooklynn clutches her heart; her nerves can’t take much more of this. “That better not be another mercenary,” she grits out as Sammy runs over to check.

“It’s them!” Sammy gasps, hurriedly opening the door.

Brooklynn whirls around as Darius and Ben rush inside, holding a hand up for the others to stay back. Considering what the two of them might’ve just gone through, it’s probably not a good idea to rush them. Hell, it’s dangerous to rush Ben on a good day.

Sammy closes the door behind them as they double over to catch their breath, and Brooklynn quickly looks them over.

The first thing she notices is that Darius is covered in bloodstains. But once she pushes through the initial jolt of alarm, she realizes most of it looks like it was splattered onto him, rather than originating from any kind of wound. Overall, he appears unharmed.

Ben’s in a little rougher shape. He’s got a fresh bruise darkening above his eye and his knuckles are split and bloody. Oddly enough, there’s a dried trail of blood down the left side of his face that almost looks like it came out of his ear- though Brooklynn can’t see any obvious injury. He also seems to have acquired a gun; the weapon is currently tucked into his waistband, and she has a good idea where it might’ve come from.

“Are you guys alright?” Brooklynn asks, taking a tentative step forward.

Darius straightens up and manages a small smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘Safe,’ he signs, still catching his breath. He glances over at Ben, who’s met his gaze expectantly, and nods.

“Hey guys,” Ben says, speaking louder than what’s normal even for him as he turns to face them. “I can’t hear anything.”

Brooklynn’s heart drops into her stomach.

“Wheatley fired a gun right next to my ear,” Ben continues bluntly, “and now there’s this ringing in my head and I can’t hear, no idea if it’s permanent or not.” He shrugs. “Then he tried to shoot Darius so I had to kill him.”

Then he averts his gaze, as if not wanting to see their reactions. Darius puts a gentle hand on his shoulder, giving the rest of them a sad, knowing look.

“Oh god,” Sammy murmurs, her hands covering her mouth.

“Shit,” Yaz swears, her eyes alight with fury. “Wheatley’s lucky he’s already dead, I could kill him right now.”

“You and me both,” Kenji growls.

All Brooklynn can feel is sorrow. She knows that hearing loss associated with a burst eardrum usually isn’t permanent. But since Ben’s hearing was already starting to fade due to other factors, it’s likely that the gunshot did additional, and irreparable, damage.

The timing is the worst part. They were so close to being in the clear. Ben could’ve made it home with only partial hearing loss, and without any more dinosaurs around to roar their deafening roars, it wouldn’t have accelerated for many, many years. But now, he’s facing total deafness at seventeen years old.

Sorrow doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Carefully, Brooklynn takes a step forward and squeezes Ben’s arm to get his attention. When he looks up to meet her eyes, she’s startled to find that there’s a little bit of fear in his expression. But it’s not because she took him by surprise. It’s like he’s afraid of what they’ll think of him, either because of his injury or because he had to kill someone.

As if any one of them would just sit by and let Darius get shot.

Brooklynn gives him a soft smile. ‘Safe,’ she signs. ‘Okay.’

They’re safe, and that’s all that matters.

Ben manages a small smile in return. “Whatever it takes, right?” he says wryly.

Kenji gently slips past Sammy and Brooklynn to embrace Ben, pressing their foreheads together with his good hand while his injured hand remains tucked against his chest. Brooklynn recognizes the familiar gesture as one of Ben’s many nonverbal ways to express affection. Not that either of them are shy about that kind of thing; Ben just usually saves his kisses for when they’re safely back home.

“I love you,” Kenji says as he pulls away, enunciating his words very clearly so Ben can easily read his lips.

Ben gives him a fond look. “Love you too,” he says. “If that’s what you said.”

Meanwhile, Darius has just noticed the blood-stained jacket wrapped around Kenji’s hand. His eyebrows shoot up in alarm as he looks over at Brooklynn, tilting his head questioningly and pointing at his own hand for reference.

Brooklynn winces. “We ran into Blue-”

“Are you okay?” Ben asks suddenly, unaware he’s interrupting as he looks up at Kenji. He’s noticed the injury, too.

‘Okay,’ Kenji quickly assures him.

“Blue?” Darius repeats, sounding concerned.

“Yeah,” Brooklynn says, folding her arms. “No idea how she got free. Right now, she’s out there with Bumpy giving the mercenaries hell.”

Darius frowns, rubbing his chin. “N- n- not good.”

“Uh, hey Kenj?” Sammy chimes in hesitantly. “That’s actually bleedin’ an awful lot. How bad did she get ya?”

The apprehension in Sammy’s tone immediately puts Brooklynn on alert. She takes another look at Kenji’s hand- and her stomach drops as she realizes he’s almost bled through the jacket entirely. That’s… a lot of blood for just being nipped.

Kenji pauses. “I’m not sure,” he admits, the slightest hitch in his voice.

There’s an abrupt shift in the room, a shared realization that Kenji might be more injured than he was letting on. Or, even more than he was aware of.

Brooklynn creases her brows together. “Can you check?”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Kenji brushes her off, though he can’t quite mask the sudden fear in his voice. “It can wait-”

“Kenji,” Brooklynn says gently, despite her growing dread. “Can I take a look?”

Kenji swallows. For a moment, she thinks he’s going to refuse. But then he nods, albeit reluctantly, and slowly holds his hand out to her.

Brooklynn gives him a grateful look and starts unwrapping it, carefully peeling back the bloodsoaked fabric and mentally preparing herself for what she might see. When the last of it falls away, her breath catches in her throat; she didn’t prepare herself for this.

The last digit on three of Kenji’s right fingers- pointer, middle, and ring- has been bitten clean off.

It’s almost an abnormally clean severance, which is a testament to how sharp Blue’s teeth really are. Due to the curvature of her jaws, the middle finger has a bit more length taken off it than the other two- it’s gone past the first joint and right through the bone. The stumps of all three fingers are still bleeding, dripping steadily down his hand in ripples.

For a moment, all Brooklynn can do is stare as her brain struggles to grasp the reality of what she’s seeing. The captain- who she’d almost completely forgotten about- groans in horror from his corner. Next to her, Ben hisses through his teeth.

“Fuck,” he says, his loud voice jarring in the stunned silence.

“Oh,” Kenji says numbly. “So that’s what I was feeling. Okay, cool.” He gives a short, jerky nod, and Brooklynn can tell from the look in his eyes that he’s rapidly dissociating from the situation. “Cool, cool, cool.”

“Sit down,” Brooklynn orders, grabbing his arm and pressing the fabric back over his fingers. A tidal wave of emotions is coursing through her, but she can’t stop to focus on any of them.

“I’m fine,” Kenji tries to insist. But Ben moves to his other side and helps Brooklynn guide him to sit against the wall.

“Was it Blue?” Ben asks, making Brooklynn feel a pang of guilt for how out of the loop he is. At Kenji’s nod, he scowls. “How the hell did she get loose?” It’s clearly a rhetorical question, though, as he starts digging around in his waist bag for supplies.

“Heavens to Betsy, Kenj!” Sammy says in a way that almost sounds like swearing as she rakes her hands through her hair. “Why didn’t ya say somethin’?”

Kenji makes a noncommittal noise. “I didn’t think she bit them off!” he protests, though his voice wobbles.

Yaz is staring at Kenji’s hand with wide, guilty eyes. “Blue did that?” she breathes, and it’s obvious where her mind is at; this wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t frozen up.

Panic flashes across Kenji’s face. “Yaz, it’s alright, it wasn’t-”

“It’s okay,” Brooklynn cuts in, her voice gentle but firm as she keeps Kenji’s hand elevated. “You’re gonna be fine.” She looks over at Yaz, her expression softening. “He’ll be fine, I promise.”

Brooklynn’s pretty sure he will be, at least. While an injury like this is definitely serious, it shouldn’t be life-threatening. It’d take a long time for him to bleed out from his fingers and he’s already been applying pressure to stop the bleeding. The greater threat in this case is infection, but they’re about to be rescued. He’ll be able to receive medical care soon, so any infection he develops will be dealt with properly.

They just need to make sure stays here resting, so he doesn’t get himself hurt by passing out from blood loss or shock. With their luck, it’d happen when he was right next to the edge of the boat, and he’d go splashing into the ocean. Or maybe he’d collapse right in front of Blue, like an all-you-can-eat buffet.

“Hold still,” Ben murmurs. He’s fished a few scraps of fabric and vines out of his pouch, and is starting to tie them around the ends of Kenji’s fingers.

“Not too tight,” Brooklynn tells him lightly.

And then she remembers that he can’t hear her. So instead she hooks a finger through the vines, indicating that they should only be tight enough to hold the fabric to his skin. Ben blinks his acknowledgement, and Brooklynn holds Kenji’s hand steady for him while he works.

Behind them, Darius is pacing. “Wh- when are th- th- the uh, the authori- ri- rities getting h- here?” he asks anxiously.

Sammy glances over at the ship’s clock. “Should be another ten minutes or so,” she says.

Darius makes an unhappy noise. Brooklynn glances over her shoulder at him.

“Hey, it’ll be alright,” she says soothingly. “Kenji will be fine. I’m sure they have emergency responders with them, they can patch him up until we get to an actual hospital.”

Darius nods, but he’s still got a certain look in his eye that Brooklynn knows all too well. He’s planning something- but to what end, she isn’t sure. They’re all safe and all together, locked inside the bridge and awaiting rescue. What else is left for them to do?

“All done,” Ben announces, having wrapped the jacket back around Kenji’s newly patched fingers.

Kenji uses his good hand to sign ‘thanks,’ offering a faint smile.

“Here,” Brooklynn says, tugging on Kenji’s shorts. “Knees up, head down. Keep your hand elevated and focus on taking deep breaths.”

Kenji follows her directions without complaint, resting his hand on his bent knees as he tucks his head between them. Ben squeezes his shoulder before he straightens up, looking at Darius expectantly.

“So what now?” he asks, putting his hands on his hips.

Darius’s expression hardens with resolve. ‘Split up,’ he signs, then adds ‘wait’ before turning to Sammy. “St- stay here w- w- with… th- the A-List. Me a- and uh, and th- the B-Team w- will go s- st- stop Blue.”

“What?” Brooklynn frowns, rising to her feet. “I thought the plan was to wait in here until the authorities arrive.”

“That w- wa- was before… be- before B- Blue got f- free,” Darius explains somberly. “Ev- every minute w- we wait, she’s… she’s out th- there k- killing people.”

Brooklynn hesitates. “Why should we care about these guys?” she asks, wrapping her arms around herself. “They aren’t good people, Darius, and they aren’t worth risking our lives for.”

Darius looks taken aback. “What a- a- about… uh, C- Claire and th- th- the others?” he asks, creasing his brows together.

“Oh, come on,” Brooklynn says dismissively, “Blue won’t hurt them with Owen there.”

Darius’s face twitches. “Are y- y- you sure?” he asks pointedly. “Didn’t uh, didn’t think sh- she’d um, hurt a- a- any of us.”

“Uh, guys?” Ben prompts, watching them in confusion. “Are we going or what? I want to check on Bumpy.”

‘Wait,’ Brooklynn signs before turning back to Darius. “That’s their problem, okay?” she insists, starting to feel her patience strain. “They’re adults, they can take care of themselves.”

“Th- then what ab- bout Blue?” Darius counters, holding her gaze evenly. “What d- do you th- th- think will, um- will ha- happen to h- her, when th- the authorities g- get here? Do y- you think they’ll… t- try to uh, take her a- a- alive when sh- she’s… killed an ent- t- tire ship of p- people?”

“I can’t believe this,” Brooklynn huffs, throwing her hands up. “You’re still worried about protecting dinosaurs? After Blue bit Kenji’s fingers off?”

“Hey,” Kenji pipes up from his spot on the floor, “that wasn’t her fault, I was being stupid-”

“That’s besides the point!” Brooklynn snaps at him, her tone harsher than she intended. The frustration boiling in her blood is a foreign thing, because she’s not used to it being directed at her herd. But right now, she can’t bring herself to care. “We’re so close to finally being safe, we shouldn’t be risking our lives to save a dinosaur again!”

Darius holds his hands up, placating. “If y- you d- d- don’t uh, want t- to come, you… you don’t h- ha- have to,” he says quietly, and that makes her even madder because how dare he make her the only one arguing here?

Brooklynn bristles, glaring up at Darius- when did she take a step forward? “That’s not what this is about!”

“Hey,” Ben says loudly, clearly getting fed up with being ignored. “If Blue’s out there, she could hurt Bumpy. We have to help.”

At the same time, Brooklynn and Darius whirl around to sign ‘wait’ at him. The tension in their movements almost gives the gesture an unkind feeling, like they’re shouting. Ben raises a deliberate eyebrow at them, making Brooklynn wince with immediate regret and shame.

‘Sorry,’ she signs, almost simultaneously with Darius.

Ben makes an exasperated noise. “I’m going back for Bumpy,” he tells them stubbornly, folding his arms, “whether you help or not. Hurry up and decide.”

Darius gives Brooklynn a pleading look. “He’s r- right. Sh- should w- w- we leave Bumpy out th- there to… t- to fend f- for herself? After ev- everything she’s d- done for us?”

Brooklynn flinches. “Look, all I care about are the people inside this room, okay?” She means for it to come out cold and firm, but to her horror she just sounds desperate and scared, even to her own ears.

“That’s n- not true,” Darius says softly, looking at her in that special way of his, like he knows what’s going on in her mind and heart even more than she does, and Brooklynn finally breaks.

“I wish it was!” she shouts, tears springing to her eyes.

Shock flares in Darius’s eyes, but now that she’s going, she can’t make herself stop. “I wish it was true, I wish none of us had to be the big damn heroes all the time! I wish we could be selfish for once, instead of taking on all this responsibility just because we were unlucky enough to get stranded on an island full of dinosaurs for three fucking years. After everything we’ve done, everything we’ve been through- god.” She puts her face in her hands and takes a shuddering breath. “It’s not fair. It shouldn’t always be up to us.”

An awful silence follows, in which Brooklynn can only hear her own ragged breathing as she fights back tears. Her stomach is in knots and she hates how weak she feels- only a child would cry about life being unfair.

But it’s been three years, and she’s so tired.

She’s just about gathered herself to speak again- to say what, she doesn’t know- when two hands cover her own, fingers stiff and clumsy in a way she only knows Darius’s to be. Gently, her hands are tugged away from her face, and she finds herself looking into Darius’s eyes.

“I kn- know,” he murmurs, nothing but empathy in his tone, his gaze full of infinite understanding. “You’re… you’re right, it sh- shouldn’t. I w- wish it wasn’t, either. But I can’t- I c- can’t just… sit h- here wh- while lives are lost, n- not when I- I can do s- s- something about it.” He squeezes her hands. “I’m s- sorry. I ha- ave to try.”

And that’s what it all comes down to, isn’t it?

That’s how six teenagers managed to come together and survive for three years on an island that almost seemed hell bent on destroying them, to the point of blowing itself up in the hopes of taking them with it. That’s how they survived among some of the deadliest creatures on the planet, and the most ruthless of humanity, and the very elements of nature itself, time and time again. They survived and they evolved and they suffered- oh, how they suffered. But they built a life out of suffering and a home out of wreckage and a herd out of strangers because they never stopped trying.

Even when things fell apart, they never gave up.

Brooklynn takes a deep breath. “I know,” she says quietly, managing a half-hearted smile. “It’s one of the things I love about you. Even if I don’t like it right now.”

Darius’s mouth quirks into a fond grin, tinged at the edges with relief. “Th- thank you.” He never needed her permission to go, but definitely prefers to have it. Stepping back, he signs ‘okay, follow’ to Ben as he turns to go. “Lock th- the d- d- door behind us, o- okay? We’ll b- be-”

“I’m going with you,” Brooklynn says plainly.

Darius whirls back around in surprise. “What?”

“Come on, Dino Nerd,” Brooklynn sighs, amused. “You didn’t think I’d let you go all self-sacrificing again, did you?”

Darius blinks. “I uh, I g- guess not,” he says, sounding taken aback but happy all the same.

“Besides,” Brooklynn adds, crossing over to put an arm around Ben’s shoulder, “I can’t break up the B-Team.”

Ben looks back and forth between them. “You guys done?” he asks pointedly, though there’s the slightest hint of bemusement in his eyes.

Brooklynn nods. ‘Sorry,’ she tells him, before directing the apology to the rest of the herd.

Sammy’s watching them with a sad sort of pride in her eyes, like a mom sending her kids off to college. “Please be safe, y’all,” she says, clasping her hands together. “I just couldn’t bear it if somethin’ happened to ya.”

“We will,” Brooklynn promises. She glances over at Kenji and Yaz. “You guys rest. I mean it,” she says firmly, even as she smiles. “Sammy, make sure they don’t get up.” She turns to follow Darius and Ben to the door. “Lock the door behind us, keep an eye on the captain, and look after each other, okay? We’ll be back after we deal with Blue.”

“Good luck!” Kenji calls after them, sounding a little out of it but still earnest.

“Don’t die!” Yaz adds, using a dry tone of voice to cover up her concern.

“Mrmph!” the captain grumbles from his corner.

Brooklynn falls into step with Ben on her left and Darius on her right, stopping in front of the door as Sammy peeks through the window to check that the coast is clear. She lightly bumps her arm against Ben’s while slipping her other hand into Darius’s, taking a steadying breath.

“Alright,” she says. “Let’s go save the day, one last time.”

Darius huffs a laugh. “Y- you got it, S- Super Star.”

~*~

#jurassic world camp cretaceous #jwcc #camp cretaceous #jurassic world fallen kingdom #my writing

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