Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Series:
Part 2 of Full Circle
Stats:
Published:
2018-12-06
Completed:
2023-11-28
Words:
150,803
Chapters:
47/47
Comments:
411
Kudos:
463
Bookmarks:
42
Hits:
25,113

Snapshots

Chapter 29: No Place Like Home

Notes:

Well, I was taking a break from working on PUP and MY (see end notes) and decided to attempt a snapshot again. This was inspired by Virodeil who left a comment asking about one from Maisie's POV.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

No Place Like Home

- First Day -

It wasn't until Maisie put down her book and turned off her light, that it actually hit home that she was no longer home. That she was in a new bed, in a new room, in a new city. And that she was staying with people she still hardly knew.

Her new bed was a lot smaller than the canopy bed she'd had back at grandpa's house, and the bedspread was decorated with cartoon characters that Owen had seemed excited about, but that she had agreed to only because of his enthusiasm, not because she knew who (what?) they were.

The room was also a lot darker than she was used to. Her old bedroom had a couple of night lights, although she didn't like calling them that. But it meant that there was always something glowing, helping to chase away some of the shadows. That, and she'd often lie awake in bed, counting out the seconds as she anticipated the next flash of light from the nearby lighthouse.

Owen had left her door ajar, and at first there'd been a bit of light from the living area, and she'd been able to hear Owen and Claire moving about the place. Now, however, the lights had been turned off and she could no longer hear them. She reached out, turning her light back on before sitting up in bed and swinging her legs over the side.

As Maisie sat there, she debated if she should go find them. They had said they would be just out there or in Claire's room. Maybe she could ask for a nightlight. Except… she didn't want to be a nuisance. Iris had always said that guests should try their hardest to not make extra requests of their hosts.

Is that what she was? A guest? She wasn't really sure anymore. After all, they had called this space her new room. And had bought a bed specifically for her. And she had been there when the paperwork was signed and they'd been allowed to take her. Before that had happened, the CPS worker had taken her aside and explained her rights. The woman had handed over a business card, telling Maisie she could call at any time, day or night, if she needed anything. But Maisie was pretty sure a nightlight didn't count.

Being careful not to make a sound, she tiptoed across the small space to the window, and pulled open the curtain. A moment later, she had her face pressed to the cool glass, as she looked down at the still busy street below, full of cars driving by and a number of people walking along the sidewalk. Looking across the road, she realized she could see directly into other apartments, many of the windows brightly lit. In some of them, she could see people moving around. In one, she saw a person was lying on a couch, the light in the room flickering from whatever was on the TV, while in another, a dog was wrestling with a stuffed animal. She stood there, transfixed, her gaze darting around as lights would flick on here and go off there.

Claire's place, this place, had felt so small when she'd first walked in. Nothing at all like her home, with its towering ceilings and vast grounds. Here, there wasn't even a balcony. She'd known, of course, from the books and movies and tv shows she'd been allowed to read and watch, that she was lucky. That most people lived in much smaller places than she did. But she'd never experienced just what that was like before.

Eventually though, the thrill of watching the other apartments started to dwindle, everyone seemingly settling into their routines for the night, and more and more windows starting to go dark. Maisie walked quietly back to her bed, leaving the curtain open, hoping that it would allow some additional light to drift in.

Lying back down, and pulling the comforter back up, she debated leaving the light on for the night, before finally mustering up her courage and flicking it off. It took a minute for her eyes to adjust, but she was relieved to see that the open window did make a bit of a difference. But… she still wanted a nightlight. Something to confirm that the shadows she was seeing were just coming from the bookcase and the picture frame on top, and were not a dinosaur lurking, waiting for its moment to pounce.

Squeezing her eyes closed, she tried to block out those images and to focus on something good, something positive. She tried to find a memory that she could hold onto, but every one that came to mind felt tainted now. Her grandpa wasn't actually her grandpa. She still wasn't quite sure what that meant. She'd wanted to ask someone, but with everything that had happened over the last few days, there had never seemed like the right moment to ask. Or the right person. Turning on her side, she clutched her sock monkey closer, curling around it. At least she still had it, something familiar from home.

- First Week -

The CPS woman had come by that morning. Supposedly to "check on things," although Maisie still wasn't really sure what that meant, except it didn't seem like a good thing, considering how both Owen and Claire had started racing around the apartment after answering the buzzer.

She'd been eating breakfast when it had rung and she'd continued to sit at the kitchen table, watching as Claire frantically rushed around picking things up, shuffling papers, and putting away books and toys, all while barking at Owen to make sure the beds were made and clothes put away. When the woman had knocked on the door, Maisie had been surprised when Owen and Claire had frozen, before sharing a concerned look and then answering it.

"Checking on things" seemed to mean getting a tour of the place. The woman had asked Maisie to show her around, which Maisie had done, after looking hesitantly at Owen, who had encouraged her to do so with a nod. When she'd shown the woman her room, she'd been asked all sorts of questions about how she was doing and was she getting enough to eat, and whether she had any concerns she wanted to raise or questions she wanted to ask.

Maisie hadn't known what to say, having not expected to be put on the spot, and had fumbled her way through. That everything was fine, there was lots of food, and that they'd ordered Thai food the previous night. And then she'd asked the woman if she'd ever had Thai food before, because Maisie hadn't, and that she wasn't sure what she thought of the curry but she'd loved the chicken satay and the coconut rice.

The woman had just nodded, jotting notes in a small notebook she'd pulled out, and then asked Maisie what she'd done over the past week. So Maisie told her about going shopping and to the park and watching movies. She told her that Claire had said she could go to the DPG headquarters today. She mentioned that Owen had gone to his cabin a few days ago, but that she hadn't been allowed to go with him, but that he'd promised she could go the next time he went.

The woman had asked some more questions, during which Maisie had looked over at the door to her bedroom, that was still slightly ajar, wishing she could see Owen or Claire. She took comfort in hearing them out in the living area, moving about. She hadn't been alone with anyone but them for a week now, not since the morning they'd left her old home.

The thought of her old house, of her old life, had caused her to start to choke up, and she'd tried to fight the tears back, but once they started she couldn't stop them. The woman had sat next to her on the bed, patting her gently on the shoulder, and Maisie had asked the one question that had been on her mind for days now: "I can't go home again, can I?"

By the time they'd exited her room, Maisie had managed to stop crying, but she knew from the way that both Owen and Claire had froze when they saw her, that they knew, their faces looking increasingly worried. Claire had started across the room to her barely a moment later, her arm immediately wrapping around Maisie's shoulders, pulling her into her side. Maisie had sunk against her, turning her face into Claire, taking the offered comfort.

"Are you okay?" Claire had whispered, crouching down after a moment, her hands resting on Maisie's upper arms as she locked gazes with her. Maisie had sniffled, before nodding, and after another searching look, Claire had stood back up, although she'd kept one hand resting on Maisie's shoulder.

Owen and Claire had stuck with her for the rest of the visit. Well, until the end, when they'd said they needed a few minutes alone with the woman and Maisie had been told to go wait in her room. She'd pressed her ear to the door, wanting to hear what was being said, knowing it was about her, but they'd spoken too quietly for her to make out more than the occasional word.

When Owen had opened her door a few minutes later, he'd looked unsurprised to find her standing just inside, and had simply gestured for her to come back out and join them. For a moment, she'd been worried the woman was going to take her with her, suddenly remembering being told back at the old house that this placement — Maisie staying with Owen and Claire — was temporary. She'd clutched tightly to Owen's arm when he'd led her back to the woman, but she hadn't said anything when he'd asked if something was wrong.

And then… the woman was gone, heading out the door with a wave and a "I'll be in touch." Maisie had felt her shoulders sag with relief when they'd finally closed the door and the woman was gone.

"Well," Claire had said, stretching out the word as her gaze had darted between Maisie and Owen, "that went better than I expected."

"Same," Owen had agreed.

"Are you okay?" Claire had asked, and Maisie had felt herself shrink back when both their gazes had turned to her. Seemingly sensing her discomfort, Claire had just nodded, and continued. "Now that that's over with, what should we do today?"

They'd gone to the DPG just as Claire had promised. Which had been fun. Maisie had got to see Franklin and Zia again. But it had also been noisy and crowded, and almost immediately Claire had disappeared off somewhere, out of sight. She'd stuck close to Owen initially, before Zia had set her up with a poster and markers and asked for her help. Owen had tried to help, but he wasn't very good at it, and after a few frustrating attempts, he had gone to find something more interesting to do.

From there, someone had suggested going out for dinner, and so they'd done that. And by the time they'd left the restaurant, she'd been yawning, although trying to hide it. Owen had mentioned watching another movie earlier, and she wanted to do that again.

As they walked into Claire's place, Maisie paused just over the threshold, the woman's words echoing back to her. "No, honey, I'm sorry but you can't. This is your new home now." As she looked around the place, at the picture she'd drawn hanging on the fridge, her sweatshirt draped over the back of the couch, her dinosaur figures lined up neatly below the TV, and her shoes placed carefully beside the door, she realized that while it still didn't feel like home, maybe it could.

- First Month -

She wanted to go home. She missed her grandpa and she wanted to ask him so many questions. She missed Iris. She'd never thought she'd want someone to correct her pronunciation. There was even a part of her that missed Mr. Mills — not who he was at the end, but how he used to be, how back when she was younger he'd run around the yard with her. And, boy, did she ever miss that yard.

Maisie had never realized just how much freedom her grandpa and Iris had given her until now, where she was often stuck cooped up inside, unable to leave the apartment unless Owen or Claire went with her. She couldn't run and climb at will, as there was no space to run and nothing to climb.

At least Owen seemed to sort of understand her need for wide open spaces and trees and grass, and the two of them would go to the park most days, spending hours on the playground or kicking a ball around. He'd remarked one day that it was too bad they didn't have space for bikes, reminding Maisie of the one she'd left behind with its bright purple frame with a dent on the front right fork from an accidental encounter (not a crash) with a planter.

Then, a couple of weeks ago, Claire announced that they were going to buy a house, and that she already had four showings set up for that afternoon. Maisie had trailed behind them through the houses, listening silently as they talked about this feature or that, discussing prices and number of bedrooms and what they really wanted and needed.

It had taken almost two weeks, and more houses than Maisie had been able to keep track of, before they'd found it. There had been a few that had seemed almost right. Ones that Owen and Claire would talk about in the car as they drove back home afterwards, debating if they should put in an offer or keep holding out hope for someplace else.

But a few days ago, they had pulled up to a modest house on a modest street, parking in the driveway. Stepping out of the car, Maisie had dutifully followed after them as they met with the real estate agent before heading in. She'd walked behind them through the living room and down the short hallway to the kitchen, ignoring the discussion that was happening. When they'd entered the kitchen she'd been immediately drawn to the glass sliding doors that led out to the patio and backyard, and she'd stood there, staring out. There was a fairly large yard (not, in comparison to what she'd had, but in comparison to what they'd seen), but what caught her attention was that it backed onto a forest.

She opened up the back door, stepping out onto the patio, and then out onto the grass. While there were fences down the side, separating the lot from the neighbours, it didn't feel small or enclosed. Maisie had walked over to the forest, finding a path that led in. She'd been about to step onto it, wondering where it led, when Owen had called her name, and she'd turned to see him standing back at the door. She'd given the path one last look, before heading back inside.

The chatter in the car when they'd left that place had been more excited than before, both Owen and Claire talking over each other as they commented on what they liked best. By the time they were entering the apartment, the conversation had moved to them discussing what their offer should be, as it was at the edge of their preferred price range, but they didn't want it to slip through their fingers either.

"Do you agree, Maisie?" Claire's question had caught her off guard, and she looked up to see both Owen and Claire watching her, waiting for her answer.

"Um, agree to what?" Maisie had asked.

"The house. That we should try to buy that one," Claire had replied. "Did you like it?"

"Yeah, I guess so," she'd said, not really sure what they were asking her opinion for. After all, she wasn't buying the house. Claire had immediately phoned their real estate agent, and Maisie had used the opportunity to slip away, ducking into her bedroom and closing the door behind her. As she looked around the small space she'd been given, a new thought had hit her — when Owen and Claire moved, was she going to get to go with them? Or would she be left here and others would come take care of her?

She'd wanted to ask that question that night at dinner, but they'd been so happy and she hadn't known how to bring it up.

But, the thought had been eating away at her, and she'd been struggling to contain her mood, which wasn't being helped today by the fact that it was raining and Owen had taken one look out the window that morning and said it'd be a good day for them to just stay home. Claire, Maisie had noted, had been allowed to leave, as she'd headed off to the DPG offices for the day, her raincoat on and an umbrella in hand. Scowling, Maisie had helped Owen clean up the kitchen before retreating back to her room, flopping onto her bed, where she was still lying now, her chin resting on her crossed arms.

"So, what do you want to do today?" Owen asked, interrupting her sulking, and she looked up to see him standing in the doorway. "Movie marathon? We still need to watch Star Wars."

She wasn't sure what it was about those words, but the next moment she was crying, burying her head into her arms, her shoulders shaking.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Owen exclaimed, and she felt the mattress dip as he sat down beside her. "What's going on? What happened?" His hand rubbing soothingly on her back just undid her more, and her tears came harder. "C'mere," he tugged at her shoulders, pulling her up and into his arms, and Maisie buried her face in his chest, her own arms wrapping tightly around him. Her nose was now running and her sobs were making it hard to breath, choking her on every other breath, but she held onto him tighter, not wanting to let go.

"Maisie, kiddo, you need to calm down," Owen said after a couple of minutes of rocking her. "Should I call Claire?"

"I don't want you to go," Maisie finally managed to get out, the words escaping between sobs.

"Go? Where am I going?" Owen asked. "I don't have plans to go anywhere, except maybe over to the couch to watch some movies."

"To the house," she said, pulling back from him slightly, raising her arm and using her sleeve to wipe her nose. "I want to stay with you."

"What? Of course you're staying with us," he was looking at her with a stunned expression, although it soon fell away, his face looking concerned instead. "Kiddo, we're buying the house for all of us. This place is too small for the three of us, we wanted to have some more room. Enough space so that Claire could have an office again. But also so that you can have a backyard."

"And you?" Maisie asked, wiping her nose again, her tears finally dying down to sniffles.

"There's lots of garage space," Owen said after a moment. "Would be nice to have a home gym, and some space for my tools."

"You need a garage for your toolbox?" she asked, her brows furrowing, thinking of the small red box that sat in the closet by the entrance.

"I've got lots more," he chuckled, raising a hand to wipe at the remaining tears on her cheeks. "They're just out at my lot. Actually," he paused, his head tilted to the side in thought, "maybe we can head out there this weekend. You haven't had a chance to see it yet and I'd like to check up on it."

Maisie's face lit up. "Really?"

"Let me check with Claire and see if she can get away," Owen nodded. "You'll love it. Wide open spaces. There's a lake nearby so maybe we could go swimming or take out my canoe…" Trailing off, his excitement died away as he focused on her again, his expression serious. "Maisie, we're not going anywhere without you. I'm really sorry that we weren't clear about that. You're part of our family now."

She stiffened at the word family, pulling away fully, her arms dropping into her lap. She didn't have a family anymore, now that her grandpa was dead and she didn't have any relatives that she knew of. (Could clones even have relatives?) She'd read about kids without family before, and had watched movies like Annie. While it made her relieved that Owen and Claire were willing to keep her with them, for now, it didn't change what she really was. An orphan.

"Are you okay now?" Owen asked, reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder, and she looked back up at him. "I can still phone Claire, if you want."

"No, she's busy," Maisie shook her head. "I'm… You mentioned Star Wars?" She watched a few emotions flicker across Owen's face, but was thankful when he decided not to press, instead standing up.

"I was thinking we'd start with the original trilogy, as they are the best."

"Wait, I thought you said those were 4, 5 and 6? Shouldn't we start with number one?"

"Well…"

- First Year -

Lying on her bed with her iPad, Maisie was looking through her collection of photos and videos from the past year. A year since her grandpa had died and the Indoraptor had wreaked havoc throughout her house. A year since she'd let the dinosaurs go free. And a year since she'd been placed into Owen and Claire's care.

It was the last bit that she was mostly focused on, flicking through pictures of the new life the three of them had been building together. Of Owen and Claire getting married. Of working on the cabin. Of starting at her new school. Of the trip to Wisconsin they had taken to see Karen, Jake, Zach and Gray. Of all the holidays they'd spent together — Halloween, Christmas, Valentine's, Easter and more.

Pausing, she focused on a picture from about a month ago, the three of them smiling brightly at the camera, the giant redwood behind them making them look tiny in comparison.

Last summer, when they'd gone up to the cabin for her first visit, Owen and Claire had sat her down, explaining, in no uncertain terms, that they were in this for the long haul and that she was part of their family now. Then, around Thanksgiving, they had brought up adoption, saying they were just putting the option on the table, and they just wanted her to know that when she was ready, if she was ever ready, they would be happy to start the proceedings. They had emphasized that there was no pressure and that either way, it wouldn't change anything, they still wanted her to be with them. Both times she'd just nodded her understanding, but hadn't said anything.

At the time, while she had known that her grandpa was dead and that her old home was going up for sale, while she had known all of that, she had still been hoping that one day she'd wake up back in her old bed, in her old room, and find out that it had all been a dream. That there were no monstrous dinosaur hybrids living in her basement. That she wasn't a clone. That life would just continued as it always had.

But now, a year from those initial events, as she looked at the pictures, at everything she'd got to do over the past year, she no longer found herself hoping that her life would go back to the way it used to be. She didn't want to give up her new memories. She didn't want to think about life without Owen and Claire.

She still loved and missed her grandpa, but he'd never really been her parent, not the way Owen and Claire were. She'd had a family back at the Estate, as mismatched and odd as it had been. But, she also had a family here, now. A family she wanted to keep.

Maybe it was time to finally make it official. To stop living in limbo, and to move forward with them.

Nodding her head resolutely, she flipped back to the picture of the three of them, taking comfort in the wide smiles on their faces.

"Maisie! Dinner!" Owen's voice echoed up the stairs, and she turned her iPad off, plugging it into charge.

Tonight. Maybe she'd bring it up tonight.

Notes:

As always, I hope you enjoyed this snapshot and I'd love to hear anything you have to share about it (or any of my work, really).

Two Updates:
1. In November Elise and I finished posting Act II of The Missing Years. Now's a great time to catch up on it as there will be a bit of a break while we work on Act III (get ready for a rollercoaster of a ride).
2. This Thursday I'll be posting the Epilogue to Illusion of Control and starting to post the sequel, which will be called Picking up the Pieces (or PUP). Subscribe to me or IC to make sure you're notified when those go live!