Chapter Text
Owen Grady sighed behind his mask. almost a decade of Navy work wears a man down, yet here he is on yet another mission. He just got back from interrupting a terrorist attack in Vietnam and now he's getting shipped off to Costa Rica.
Yeah, he's a little tired.
Owen squints towards the looming gates of Jurassic World. They had been notified of a suspected dinosaur poaching and his commanding officer had positioned him on the island, claiming he needed his "best man" for this investigation.
He huffs in annoyance. Commander David definitely wanted to punish him for driving the helicopter into the ocean while chasing. At least they caught the attackers, he surmises, helicopter or not.
He checks his watch. It's twelve' o clock sharp- he's right on time. The gates creak open with a groan and he sees two figures approaching. A man with a grey goatee and a woman with red hair and a stern expression.
He throws a quick salute, "Good afternoon. I'm assuming you are Park Manager Claire Dearing and Security Leader Vic Hoskins?" The woman looks up from her clipboard before nodding and holding out her hand, "Yes, and I assume you are Mr. Owen Grady if my information is correct."
Taking her hand, he chuckles slightly, "Lieutenant Grady at your service. But please, lets address ourselves as our first names. We will probably get to know each other well for the time I am here. Please, call me Owen."
The man shoves his hand towards him as well, flashing him a wide smile, "Thanks for coming Owen, a little birdie told us that someone might steal our dinosaurs, so we thought a friendly fellow such as yourself would be perfect for the job. After all, you're an animal lover."
Owen is grateful he's covering his face, otherwise the man would see the disgusted grimace plastered to his face. What was said is true, as he is known by his peers as being, and he quotes, "a disney princess," which in a regular setting would be hilarious. His title as an animal behaviorist didn't help his cause. Unfortunately, Owen couldn't find it in himself to laugh with his team when he would wake up in his tent with a snake coiled around his leg. He just doesn't like Vic- his slouched body language and distasteful words oozed of arrogance, something that is prohibited in his line of work.
He's escorted through the gates and immediately gets hit by a sense of familiarity. There's a hustle and bustle of tourists. It's loud, something that doesn't exist on missions. But the smell of dirt and grime lingers in the air wherever he goes, unwavering. Towering fossils of several types are scattered throughout the park. He sees a giant tank of water, surrounded by hundreds of families. Claire must have noticed his curiosity as she remarks, "Interesting, right? That there hosts the Mosasaurus, a sort of aquatic dinosaur. He's one of the more popular attractions here. Don't worry though, It's too much of a hassle to be stolen."
They walk up to another big cage where a man seems to be throwing dead lizards from a ledge up above. Owen peers into it, to find a big crowd hissing and snapping around the dropped food. These are the first dinosaurs he has seen in the flesh outside of all those promotional images of the park, and before his eyes, the sight is peculiar and at the same time familiar.
The little things move nervously and attentively, their tense muscles unable to hide the energy they are struggling to contain. He has no doubts that if it weren't for the cage, they would be running around the park all the time like children that ate too much candy.
He hears their chirps. High in pitch, like the chirping of birds. In fact, the way they moved remind him of the roadrunners he had once seen during a mission last year in New Mexico.
One of the small creatures noticed him, making a small squeak as he tilted his head, his eyes meeting Owen's. Short footsteps bring it closer to him, and Owen leans slightly to get a better look, his eyes following every small movement of his body as the creature squeaks.
Out of curiosity, Owen clicks his tongue at him, emitting a bastard imitation of the occasional click that the creatures emitted. As if on cue, the pack halts their feasting to stare at their audience.
More specifically Owen realized, at him.
He catches his breath as they approach the edge of the cage- lightly like a pet walking to its owner. Except they aren't dogs that you can train, nor can they be swayed by treats and cuddles. Their slitted yellow eyes return his own through his goggles. He feels something stir in his gut, something strange that he can't place as they make eye contact.
They look into each other's eyes for a long moment.
At least until Hoskins calls out to him.
"I wouldn't get so close if I were you Grady, those things can take your eye out if you're not careful."
The man's voice makes his newfound buddies recoil and screech, quickly scampering back to their food and Owen turns away with a sigh to follow his guides.
Both his guides look unsettled and Owen can see them visibly relax after a few seconds.
The rest of the tour is uneventful, with only minor interactions with other dinosaurs from outside their pens. They tell him which of the dinosaurs they think are at most risk as they walk to and from each cage. He's steered to their final destination, a giant enclosure with yet another platform hanging overhead.
"Those right there are some of our gems here Owen," Vic says, "These are our velociraptors."
A man perhaps slightly older than himself is dropping meat down into pen. Owen squints to see what the velociraptors look like, eyes widening at the sight.
Four, five-foot tall raptors snap at the meat. Their sleek scales gleam emerald green and blue and they attack their food voraciously. He sees intelligence behind their golden eyes and slitted pupils, the kind he hadn't spotted in any of the others they had previously visited.
They're beautiful.
He feels that jumbling in his gut once more, this time stronger and feral. His bloods feels on fire, as if filled with gasoline. He wants, he realizes. He wants to meet them. To touch them. To help them.
Owen feels his fingers twitching in anticipation. A surge of adrenaline rushes through his body and he shoots Claire a toothy grin. This mission will work out just fine.
"I believe that is all Mr. Grady, thank you for your cooperation. We will be showing you where you'll be staying for the duration of this trip, then you can get to work starting tomorrow. Good day, " Claire states, already turning to walk in a different direction, "Follow me. Vic will be going to notify the rest of the security team of your status."
They walk some hundreds of feet beyond the raptor cage to what looks like a miniature apartment. Two stories, 4 doors, 4 rooms. They go to one door and Claire opens it with one fo her several keys.
It's a modest room- nothing special (though one thousand times better than his living conditions in the years he's been in the Navy). A small wooden desk and armchair sits tucked away in one corner. A queen sized bed in the other. To the left is what seems to be a bathroom and to the right, a small TV with a mini fridge and coffee pot beside it.
Not too shabby at all.
"You can take room 1A. Please make yourself comfortable. I'll come get you at 8 for the raptors."
Owen fumbles to catch a key thrown to him and looks up to the door shutting with a click. He rolls his shoulders and sighs as he heaves his bag onto the bed- only to collapse onto it not ten seconds later into a quiet sleep.