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Part 2 of Full Circle
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2018-12-06
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2023-11-28
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Snapshots

Chapter 26: Plan B

Notes:

Sorry, I know I said I would update this yesterday, but I'm struggling with the fandom at the moment. Bigger note at the bottom.

In the meantime, this takes place Day 3 night/Day 4. Thanks to Claire_Grady143 who has continually been after me to do something about Claire and Owen right after FK, and while the last one had a bit, this one is much more about them. And I'm always indebted to Elise-Collier and Nadin (and so are you readers) who after I wrote the first rough draft said "MORE" and then Elise gave the most inspired idea, and it doubled in length. (Oops 🤦♀️)

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

Chapter Text

Plan B

When his eyes first popped open, Owen wasn't sure what had woken him up. He blinked rapidly, trying to sort through everything he was thinking and feeling. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he raised a hand to rest atop it, only for his hand to land on top of another. His heart sped up. Why wasn't he alone? He lived alone. His next realization was that he wasn't in his bed — the sheets were too soft. Where was he?

Suddenly the memories of the past week hit him: Claire visiting him at his cabin, the trip to Isla Nublar, the dinosaur auction, Maisie, Claire's condo.

"Owen. Owen!"

He turned his head to see that Claire was sitting on her knees beside him, and he realized that it was her hand that was on his chest. Owen suddenly tuned into the feeling of her other combing through his hair. She was looking down at him, her face worried. He clutched at her hand on his chest, holding it tightly, while he gulped in a few breaths, trying to steady his heart rate and feel fully back in the present.

"I'm here, I'm here," he finally said, raising his other hand up to his face, rubbing at his eyes and then over his jaw. He turned on his side to face her, still clutching at her hand. "Sorry."

"Do you… You still get them?" Claire asked, shifting until she was stretched out beside him, propping herself up with an elbow, her brow still creased with worry.

"Not recently," Owen admitted. "And not regularly." He sighed, closing his eyes briefly, only to pop them back open when his mind assailed him with images from his nightmare.

"You…" Claire reached back out, running her hand through his hair again, and Owen relaxed beneath her touch. He could tell she was deep in thought, but the repetitive motion of her hand seemed to be soothing her as much as it was him.

"I…?" Owen asked when she didn't continue.

"What did you do? When you'd get them?" Claire asked and Owen couldn't tell if that was what she'd been about to ask before, or if she was covering.

His mind flashed back to what they used to do, whenever either of them had woken from one, but he knew that wasn't what she was asking. He wasn't really sure how to answer her question, though. Not without sounding pathetic. In the end, he went with, "Start my day really early." She looked only partly surprised by his answer. "What about you?"

"Same," Claire said, but there was a look in her eyes that he knew she wasn't being completely truthful. However, he wasn't about to push. It didn't feel like the right time, and since it felt like the most open they'd been with each other in months, he didn't want to say anything that would cause her to close off.

For a few minutes, they lay there in silence, Claire continuing to comb through his hair. She wasn't looking at him, her gaze seemed to be focused off in the distance; Owen thought she was maybe lost in a memory. He was using the opportunity to study her. To take in the subtle changes that had occurred since the last time he'd been this close to her. He wondered, not for the first time over the past few days, how she seemed to have gotten younger, while he felt like all he'd done was age in their time apart. Had she been better off without him?

"What are you thinking about?" Claire's question interrupted the path Owen was starting to spiral down, and he was grateful for the distraction.

"Wondering if I can sleep," Owen covered. "I don't really want to start the day at," he peeked over her shoulder, "3:41am. Ugh."

"Yeah, me either," Claire agreed.

She scooted farther down in the bed, pulling at the covers. Owen copied her movements. He watched as her eyes closed, and her breathing steadied. He closed his own eyes, only to open them again with a gasp barely half a minute later. Okay, clearly his brain was not ready for sleep. He tried to be quiet in his movements, pushing at the covers.

"Where are you going?" Claire mumbled, her hand reaching for him.

"Thought I'd go watch something," Owen whispered. "You should sleep."

"Wait," Claire tugged on his arm until he scooted closer to her. "C'mere." He let her pull him to her, her arms wrapping around him, one rubbing up and down his back soothingly. He felt himself melting into her embrace. While they'd been sharing the bed the last couple of nights, he'd been so tired, he'd never even had a moment to really think through their actions, too happy to just be laying flat, and then asleep before any other thought could cross his mind.

His next action happened more out of habit than anything else, as he shifted in her embrace, dipping his head to give her a kiss. He'd meant it mostly as a thank you; for the comfort, for being there, for more things than he could name. But her mouth parted beneath his and he knew he lost control in that moment, the kiss deepening in an instant. He felt her hands creep down his back until they grabbed the hem of his shirt, tugging it upwards. He pulled away just long enough to remove it. As it fell to the floor somewhere behind him, he realized that Claire had done the same. Growling, he pounced, quickly muffling her almost shriek of laughter with a kiss, pulling back only long enough to remind her "Maisie" before he dove back in.

While there were a few moments of playfulness, they didn't last. He was immediately caught up in wondering how, somehow, she felt both exactly as he remembered and yet the experience felt brand new. He was trying to slow things down, to draw it out. He wanted to remember every moment, but he was instantly overwhelmed, his grasp on reality shaky at best. For a brief second he remembered how they use to do this, drown out their nightmares in each other. But by the time they parted, bodies and minds sated, all he could think was, what nightmare?

x x x

The next time Owen opened his eyes, the room was bright, even though the curtains remained tightly closed. A glance at the alarm clock and he was surprised to see it was almost 10, although that did explain the brightness, the sun already high in the sky, the rays forcing their way through the thin fabric of the curtain.

Flopping onto his back, he rubbed at his eyes, trying to take stock as to where he was and what had happened. He couldn't remember what his nightmare had been about anymore, having evaporated both with time and… right, Claire.

He looked to his right but wasn't surprised to find that Claire was no longer in bed with him, even if he had momentarily hoped she would be. As he lay there, he was surprised how quiet it was. Sure, he could hear the sounds of traffic drifting in through the window, but over the past few days he had been growing used to a constant sort of hum in the condo. It was so different from out on his lot, where it could sometimes feel so silent he'd wonder if the world had stopped turning.

But there was something comforting about the sound of the tv on, Claire on (another) phone call or Maisie just chattering away. He hadn't expected to find the sounds of a kid playing to feel so normal. He'd never spent all that much time around children over his life, and so it wasn't something he was used to. He did wonder, sometimes, if Maisie talked a lot for a kid, having no reference point. If she wasn't talking to them, he'd often hear her talking aloud as she played, giving commentary and voices to her steadily growing collection of dinosaurs.

Both he and Claire had shared a hesitant look when Maisie had approached them at the store with a bucket of plastic dinosaur figures, asking if she could get them. He knew they both had expected her to fear dinosaurs after everything, but she didn't seem to, somehow managing to do a better job than they were at separating the Indoraptor from regular dinosaurs.

Pushing back the covers, he groaned as he sat up, his muscles sore. Pleasantly sore, he thought, a grin emerging as he remembered the better — much better — part of his night. While he could've done without the nightmare, he definitely wasn't complaining about the after effects. Although, he looked over at the empty half of the bed beside him again, was Claire thinking the same thing? He'd expected to wake up to her this morning, the way he always had after similar nights in the past, where they'd start their day with another round. Of course, they had been up pretty late (or early, depending on how you looked at it).

The silence of the condo caught his attention again, and he suddenly wondered if he was alone. Had they gone out? Had Claire not wanted to talk with him, to have to face what they'd done? No, he shook his head, Claire wasn't one to hide away from something like that. And Owen knew she'd been just as into it as he had been. Things were just different now, they had Maisie — they couldn't sleep the morning away just because they wanted to.

Standing up, he was about to pull open the bedroom door when he looked down and realized he was only in the pair boxers he'd pulled on afterwards, when Claire had said something about Maisie. He hesitated, then turned back, finding a pair of pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and pulled them on, just in case.

Opening the door to the main area, he was surprised to realize that both Claire and Maisie were still there, over in the kitchen area, apparently having a late breakfast.

"Owen, you're awake!"

He still wasn't feeling exactly awake, but he forced a smile onto his face as he was greeted by Maisie's excitement.

"Claire told me I wasn't allowed to wake you," Maisie informed him as he walked over to where she was sitting at the kitchen table, a mostly finished plate of waffles in front of her. "She said I had to be quiet." Maisie forked another piece of her waffle and was about to eat it when she paused, her head tilted to the side in question as she looked at him. "I didn't wake you, did I? I tried to be quiet."

"You didn't wake me," Owen confirmed, patting her on the shoulder. He looked past her to Claire, who was standing over by the kitchen counter, busying herself with the toaster. He walked over to join her, dropping his voice down low as he reached her side. "Thanks."

"Huh? What for?" Claire asked, turning towards him and pressing a mug of coffee into his hands.

"Letting me sleep," Owen gave a brief nod back towards the bedroom. He raised up the mug to take a sip, before letting out a satisfied sigh. "And for this."

"You okay?" Claire asked, her gaze inquisitive, giving him a once over.

He lifted a hand, running it through his bedhead and gave her shaky smile. "I am. Or, I will be. It's been a while since I've had one of those."

"Yeah, I–" Claire was cut off as the toaster popped, and she turned to it, pulling out a couple of waffles and putting them onto a plate. She turned back to him, handing the plate over. "We're running a little low on food. I'm not used to shopping for–" She cut off again, but this time Owen knew it was on purpose, neither of them having brought up or talked through their sudden change of relationship status. And now, after last night… it wasn't only the nightmare that was leaving him feeling a bit disoriented this morning.

"No problem, I love waffles," Owen gave her a more genuine smile that time. He was turning to go sit at the table when Claire's hand landing on his arm stopped him. He looked back at her just as she raised up on her tiptoes, planting a quick kiss on his lips. His hands full, he was unable to do much when she pulled back, an embarrassed smile on her face. He quickly dipped his head, kissing her, his lips pressed to hers eagerly, and she barely hesitated before hers parted for him.

"Eww!" Maisie's comment from the table had the two pulling away from each other, laughing.

Owen briefly rested his forehead against Claire's, before giving her another quick kiss. As he stood up, he waggled his eyebrows at her, whispering "Later." He moved over and sat down at the kitchen table across from Maisie. "So, what are we doing today?"

"I, um, I—I have an errand I need to run," Claire said, joining them at the table with her own mug of coffee.

"Groceries?" Owen asked, not sure why she seemed to be stuttering, especially about something so mundane.

"Oh, yeah, that too," Claire nodded, and now he was more confused.

The previous day, Claire had taken Maisie out shopping to try and get the last few items left on her list (items like clothing and hair stuff that Claire had known Owen wouldn't have the patience for) while he'd retrieved his truck and taken a very quick trip out to his cabin to grab a bunch of his own things. He knew that Claire had been juggling trying to help Maisie adjust and get settled with all the DPG stuff that was now needing her attention ASAP. So far, she'd managed to get by with just a quick trip to the office one afternoon, although she made up for her lack of presence by being glued to her phone the rest of the time, either taking phone calls or tapping out email responses. He wasn't stupid, he knew she'd need to go and spend some actual time in the office soon, and he'd been waiting for her to bring it up.

He'd actually thought that was what she was going to do, when she suggested he go by his cabin — that she'd use the chance to have over six hours to herself — but it had been Claire who had actually insisted that it wouldn't be all that fun for Maisie to go and that Owen should take the trip alone. He hadn't disagreed. In order to make it there and back in a day, and to not have it take up the entire day, he was going to have to make his stop there as quick as possible. Just long enough to check everything over, clean out the fridge (since he wasn't sure when he'd be back next) and grab everything he'd need for the foreseeable future. A task that would also be much quicker without trying to keep an eye on a curious nine year old. But, even more importantly, he was actually looking forward to having some time to himself. He hadn't realized until Claire suggested it, that he hadn't been alone since he'd climbed onto the plane over a week ago.

The drive out had been great, he was relaxed behind the wheel, his mind mostly blank as he just took in the scenery and drove. He hadn't (to Claire's annoyance) written down a list, insisting that he'd be fine, he didn't have much. Which was mostly true. When he'd first got to his place he'd just puttered around, packing up his laptop, and going through his clothes. He didn't want to take everything, because he wanted a reason to go back. While he wasn't sure how everything was going to pan out with him, Claire and Maisie, he didn't want to lose his place.

It hadn't been until he was pulling out t-shirts from one drawer that he had even come across the box. While he'd never forgotten that he owned it, he had forgotten where he'd stored it. When he'd felt it in the drawer, he'd pulled it out, opening the lid and staring down at the ring. A flicker of hope had flared within him at the thought that maybe, just maybe, he was going to finally be able to give it to her. But he'd forced back the thought, telling himself not to get so far ahead of himself. To look at what had happened last time. And that this time, that sure, they were back to sharing a bed, but they hadn't done anything. Or said anything. And he'd shoved the ring to the back of the drawer.

Of course, Owen mused, that was yesterday. Things had changed now, right? They had taken a definite step forward. A physical one, at least. They probably should still talk about it.

Realizing he'd zoned out for a bit, he tried to catch up on the conversation Maisie and Claire were having.

"...Owen and you could maybe go to the park or something," Claire was in the middle of saying, and Maisie was nodding eagerly.

"And you'll come with us?" Maisie asked.

"Well, no," Claire said hesitantly. "I actually thought I might go into the office for the day. If that's okay. Well, a half-day." She was looking at Owen, clearly unsure of what his reaction was going to be.

He glanced at his watch, noting the time, wincing when he realized that Claire letting him sleep had meant that she'd been delaying going in. "Yeah, sure, no problem," he agreed immediately. "Do you want us to grab groceries, too? Maybe pick up whatever your errand is?"

He wasn't sure what to think when she immediately blushed. Okay, what was going on and what had he missed?

"Yeah, if you guys could go grocery shopping, that would help. I've started a list…" She got up and moved back towards the counter, picking up a piece of paper and a pen.

"Of course you have," Owen groaned, but he held out his hand, waiting for her to hand it over.

"If I didn't, I'd probably get home to find that all we have are chips and beer," Claire rolled her eyes as she sat back down. "It's not complete. It's mostly just everything we've run out of."

"Didn't we just buy milk?" Owen asked, skimming over the list. "And bread?" He looked up to see that Claire was just shrugging at him. Yeah, okay, clearly both of them had forgotten what it was like to shop for more than themselves. "Can I have the pen?" She handed it over and he jotted down a few things that had come to mind, mostly snack foods, like popcorn, ice cream, and cookies. He hadn't realized Claire had moved to stand behind him so she could read what he was adding until he heard her groan.

"Really, Owen? We don't need a pile of junk food," Claire said.

"You can never have too many snacks." Owen just smiled at her.

"Yes, you can," Claire disagreed. "Also, we have limited space. Please, please, try to be reasonable."

"We'll try," Owen agreed. "But no promises." He put down the pen. "What about your errand?"

"Oh, I'll do that," Claire quickly said. "It's on my way in."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, no problem. Oh, wow, it's almost 11. I should get going." Claire made a show of looking at her watch and Owen knew she was hiding something. He decided not to press the issue, knowing she'd get more defensive, especially with Maisie present. She moved over to her relocated desk, searching for whatever she needed to take into work.

"When do you think you'll get home?" Owen asked.

"Will you be here for dinner?" Maise added.

"Oh, yeah, absolutely," Claire reassured Maisie. She came back over to the table, a purse slung over her shoulder, her new cellphone in hand. "I should be able to get out by 4."

"Okay," Owen said. "We'll let you know what we decide to do."

Claire nodded, and then hesitated beside his chair for a moment, as if she was unsure what to do, before she ducked down to give him a quick kiss. He quickly reached out, holding her against him, although he didn't try to deepen it, not again, not with Maisie right there. When he finally let her pull away, the smile she graced him with made him immediately dismiss any of the concerns he'd had earlier. "Okay, I'll see you both later," Claire said, finally heading to the door.

Once it closed behind her, Owen turned back to Maisie and repeated his earlier question, "So, what should we do today?"

x x x

When Claire walked through the door that evening, Owen was immediately worried by the ashen pallor on her face. At first, he thought maybe something had happened at work, or on her way home, that had upset her. However, a closer look and he recognized the look on her face as one of nausea. Abandoning Maise on the couch where she was still engrossed in the movie they had on, he quickly got up and moved to Claire's side.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his hand resting on her back to rub what he hoped were soothing circles.

"Nothing," Claire said with a shake of her head, although she stopped the movement almost immediately, her face going a bit green.

"Are you going to be sick?" Owen was already looking around frantically, wondering what he could grab.

"No… no," Claire said carefully, taking a few deep breaths. "I'm fine, really," she told him, clearly reading the worried look on his face. "It'll pass. I just need to…" She looked around her place for a moment, her gazing lingering on the stove where he had a pot of spaghetti sauce simmering away. "Maybe go lie down for a bit. And maybe have a quick nap. I don't think I can eat anything right now."

Owen trailed behind her as she first stopped by the couch to greet Maisie. He was impressed by the bright smile she was able to put on, listening as Maisie filled her in on what they had done. He finally interrupted Maisie, saying that Claire had had a long day and was just going to get some rest before they had dinner.

Maisie's face had fallen, and she'd looked immediately concerned, but Owen reassured her by saying (although he wasn't really sure he believed what he was saying) that Claire was just tired and that it would give them time to finish the movie first. Maisie had nodded, still looking a bit uncertain, and Owen said he'd be right back out to watch with her.

Claire was already in the bedroom when he entered, standing over by her nightstand, digging through her purse.

"Okay, what's really going on?" Owen asked, having shut the door behind him to give them a little bit of privacy. "Is it food poisoning? Did something happen? Did someone say something? Or do something?"

"What?" Claire turned, clearly startled by his last question. He wasn't focused on her expression, however, his eyes having locked onto the box that was in her hands.

"Condoms?" He was even more confused now. He moved over to her side, looking from the box to her face and back again. "I thought you were on the pill."

Claire sighed. "I was." She turned back to her nightstand, tucking the box into the drawer.

"Wait, does that mean…" Owen's thoughts were flying fast and furious now. He hadn't even thought about it last night. And she hadn't said anything. He could feel his own face paling, and he sunk down onto the bed.

"It's fine," Claire said, sitting down beside him.

"Fine? It only takes one … time and, well, I distinctly remember more than one…" He buried his face in his hands, feeling suddenly like he was back in his teens, the topic making him embarrassed in a way it hadn't in years.

"My errand…" He looked up to see that Claire was also looking embarrassed now. "I got the morning after pill."

"Oh." He wasn't sure what else to say to that.

"One of the side effects is nausea," Claire stated matter-of-factly. "I actually thought I was going to get away with none. It didn't hit me until I was on my way home."

"Oh." He felt a bit like a broken record. But he wasn't really sure how to respond. Or how to grasp what he was hearing. He was almost 40, dammit. He shouldn't be embarrassed by this topic anymore. And he should've been smarter. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Claire said immediately, and he looked over at her. "I wanted it." His brow furrowed. "Last night," she clarified. "I knew I wasn't on the pill anymore. But I didn't have any condoms. And… well," she shrugged. "I didn't want to stop."

"I'm…" Owen wasn't really sure what he was. Except that he felt like he was 16, and that was not an age he had ever wanted to repeat.

"It'll be fine," she said. "I'll be fine."

"And the condoms?" Owen asked, his mind still feeling fractured.

"I've got an appointment to see my doctor to get back on the pill. But… in the meantime…" Claire looked a little flustered.

Oh. Oh. Well. He fought back the grin that wanted to take over. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded again. She shifted until she was leaning against his side, head resting against his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer, running his hand up and down her arm.

Before he could say anything else, a knock on the door, followed by it immediately opening, interrupted them. "Owen? I thought you were going to watch with me," Maisie said, standing in the doorway.

"Right," Owen said, looking from Claire to Maisie again.

"Go," Claire moved away from him. "Wake me up when it's over."

"Do you need anything?" Owen asked as he stood up.

"Just a nap." Claire was already lying down on the bed.

He grabbed the folded up blanket from the end and spread it over her, wanting to feel like he'd done something, before he knelt down beside her, quickly brushing his lips to hers. "Sleep."

 

 

Notes:

So... fandom. I saw JP when it came out, and it scared me, but I fell in love with the movie. I'm a science nerd and Lexi and her computer skills are one of the catalysts for my current line of work. However, what drew me to JP was Michael Crichton's storytelling. The way he weaves science, morality, ethics, hubris, greed, and so much more into such a rich story where you see humans for the fallible beings that they are — even those you cheer for — and also makes you really think. With JW, I thought the franchise was going to go back there. And, in a way, it sort of did. Claire is definitely not a perfect character, but you still want her to succeed. With FK, the final trailer made me think it was going to go full Crichton. While I have numerous issues with the story in FK, it's the ending that's really bothered me most. I've been trying not to think too much about JW3, because I've been pretty sure I'll be disappointed. Battle at Big Rock has essentially confirmed for me that this franchise has left it's origins behind. For me, the suspension of disbelief was always around whether or not they could actually bring dinosaurs back. Now, however, it's asking for a whole lot more that I'm not willing to give.

Anyway, long story short, at this point in time, I feel like I'm floundering in the fandom. IC is written. So is another snapshot (and parts of two others). And I've got half an outline for an IC sequel. The franchise doesn't owe me anything — it doesn't owe any of us anything — but it feels like it's jumped the shark and lost its way. So, I'm re-evaluating where I stand and what I'll continue to do. Writing has been a life saviour (literally) for me over the last year. But...

PS - I've had people tell me this past week that I don't understand FK and other parts of the movie and just don't do that — to me, to anyone. We get what we want from them, and for some of us, we no longer get anything.