Subject V.2.3A | "OMEGA" (
cerhadivision) wrote2017-05-14 09:57 pm
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Isla Sorna
2
For
bluebetabitch
When you spend a long time building something with your own two hands, it becomes difficult to wrap your mind around the idea of the work being done. Owen grew up around that kind of mindset, and knows very well how it feels to be in the same grip. But he doesn't mind. That's the thing about having a family: it expands, and the world around it needs to expand with it. Little by little, the house came up around them, and they settled into it, and he's never really stopped working this little world of his over like an ever-evolving project that he loves with his whole heart.
They're settled here. Officially. No one can deny it, and even though Owen still has dreams sometimes about InGen -- or anyone -- hunting them down to rip the girls, or even the boys, out of his hands, those fears evaporate every morning. The girls get along as well as any sisters do, and even the squabbling has died down in recent months; the boys have adapted beautifully, and although Chi and Psi still exhibit behavior that looks odd alongside the girls from time to time, they no longer struggle to meet expectations that were completely alien to them for most of their lives.
And then there's Blue and Omega.
The difference in Blue between her youth on Isla Nublar, and the young womanhood that quite clearly blossomed in the Santa Lucia Mountains of central California, is not only noticeable, but striking. Always the one he could rely on over the others, Blue has managed to develop into a creature that is both an extension of his right arm and yet still a highly independent person who no longer looks to him quite so often for cues; she still values her space and her privacy, but those withdrawals from the pack just to brood and sulk have all but disappeared. And while Blue's temper will always strike fear into the hearts of her siblings -- adopted or otherwise -- she's learned to balance it with patience, a trait that would always thwart her more than any other. Until now. Owen always wanted Blue to learn that balance between animal instinct and human rationality, and he knew she'd get there in her own way sooner or later. Now, it seems she has, and it's a beautiful thing to see.
Then, as if her own transformation wasn't enough, she'd somehow managed to turn her mate into an entirely different person.
If Blue's maturation is impressive, Omega's has been nothing short of miraculous. All right... Owen is a professional behaviorist; he knows there's no such thing as miracles, only hard work and dedication. Only this time it wasn't his. It was Blue's time, effort, and uncharacteristic affection that turned a furious, hateful killing machine into something that could be now what he might have been then, before InGen had their way. Omega lives in the house now. He eats when they do. He joins the family in their gatherings, as long as Blue is with him, and although his temper is still zero to 60 when roused, these days it's much harder to set him off than it used to be, even if that wouldn't be saying much. He prefers his mate and solitude over anything else, but his violently aggressive tendencies have been all but curbed for the sake of keeping Blue happy.
For obvious reasons, Owen has kept a close eye on them both from day one, and even from the very beginning Omega has treated Blue like the center of the universe. Owen himself has salvaged his share of abused, wild animals -- it's literally part of the job -- but he knows without question that no one could have done this but her. And her success is absolutely indisputable.
Case in point: today, Omega's dislike for interacting with unfamiliar people had outweighed his desire to be with Blue as often as possible, and instead of throwing a tantrum he simply hadn't gone with her down the mountain.
For Barry, it was supplies; Echo wanted clothes; Blue was only interested in procuring necessary parts for her nearly-restored 1979 Pontiac Phoenix Firebird, a task built upon very specific requirements and one which she would never entrust to any of her siblings. The day is very nice for a sojourn into the city, considering the length of the drive: blue skies and a mild breeze, not quite so far into spring that the air is anything more than comfortably warm. Psi is helping Delta collect chili peppers and the new experimental plums. Chi fell asleep in the grass up the hill. Charlie is giving Owen a hand with replacing some worn poles along the stone steps leading down to the boys' den, when they hear the familiar sound of the Jeep rolling up the long hill that serves as their driveway.
Only, it sounds like it's coming up fast.
Owen and Charlie look at each other, and immediately drop what they're doing to meet the car just as Barry rolls up, screeching to a stop and diving out of the driver's side to rush around to the passenger door. He looks frantic. And he's helping Echo out of the car. She looks like she's about to pitch right off her feet.
"Owen!" Barry calls out urgently, eyes widening immediately as Owen rushes to them. "Owen!" He has to wrap an arm around Echo's back to keep her standing. And then, to Owen's surprise and dread, Barry yells again. "Omega!"
Owen doesn't actually know where Omega has been this whole time. But suddenly he's there next to him, clearly as alarmed at being summoned as Owen was to hear it, and Owen can practically feel the tension in the male raptor's body triple because they both realized the same thing: that Blue is not with them.
"They took her," Barry says, breathless, and the bottom falls out of Owen's stomach.
Echo tries to rouse herself, flopping a little, mumbling in groggy frustration as she tries to shake off whatever is wrong with her and help explain. But Barry keeps his hold on her and barrels right through it.
"It was InGen. They had an entire strike force, Owen, the streets are chaos now. They used non-lethals. Tranquilizers. Echo took a direct hit, but they left her behind. All of them were focused on Blue." He looks at both of them, Owen and then Omega, panicked and desperate. "They came for her."
The weather was gorgeous a minute ago. Now the entire world is ice. Owen's heart has stopped, his breath is gone. Delta and the boys come running up, but he barely notices them. Beside him is Omega, frozen; then suddenly the raptor whirls to him, eyes wide, and the fury -- the fear -- in them is apocalyptic.
Omega doesn't say a word, but Owen immediately finds his voice. "Go get her."
The male raptor is gone like a bolt of lightning. Owen turns and strides quickly to a hidden cache beneath the porch. He pulls out two assault rifles and a hell of a lot of ammo as Charlie shrieks behind him, "Why aren't we going with him?!"
"Because we're going to follow him." Owen tosses a rifle to Barry, and gestures sharply for everyone to get into the car, including the still-dizzy Echo. "After Isla Nublar, Omega found us in less than a week on nothing but Blue's scent and pure instinct. This time he knows where he's going. We'd only slow him down." The motor is still running. Almost before every door is shut, Owen jerks the Jeep into gear. His last words are almost a growl to himself. "With any luck, all we'll have to do is clean up."
The Jeep screeches in reverse, turns, and roars off down the mountain.
For
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When you spend a long time building something with your own two hands, it becomes difficult to wrap your mind around the idea of the work being done. Owen grew up around that kind of mindset, and knows very well how it feels to be in the same grip. But he doesn't mind. That's the thing about having a family: it expands, and the world around it needs to expand with it. Little by little, the house came up around them, and they settled into it, and he's never really stopped working this little world of his over like an ever-evolving project that he loves with his whole heart.
They're settled here. Officially. No one can deny it, and even though Owen still has dreams sometimes about InGen -- or anyone -- hunting them down to rip the girls, or even the boys, out of his hands, those fears evaporate every morning. The girls get along as well as any sisters do, and even the squabbling has died down in recent months; the boys have adapted beautifully, and although Chi and Psi still exhibit behavior that looks odd alongside the girls from time to time, they no longer struggle to meet expectations that were completely alien to them for most of their lives.
And then there's Blue and Omega.
The difference in Blue between her youth on Isla Nublar, and the young womanhood that quite clearly blossomed in the Santa Lucia Mountains of central California, is not only noticeable, but striking. Always the one he could rely on over the others, Blue has managed to develop into a creature that is both an extension of his right arm and yet still a highly independent person who no longer looks to him quite so often for cues; she still values her space and her privacy, but those withdrawals from the pack just to brood and sulk have all but disappeared. And while Blue's temper will always strike fear into the hearts of her siblings -- adopted or otherwise -- she's learned to balance it with patience, a trait that would always thwart her more than any other. Until now. Owen always wanted Blue to learn that balance between animal instinct and human rationality, and he knew she'd get there in her own way sooner or later. Now, it seems she has, and it's a beautiful thing to see.
Then, as if her own transformation wasn't enough, she'd somehow managed to turn her mate into an entirely different person.
If Blue's maturation is impressive, Omega's has been nothing short of miraculous. All right... Owen is a professional behaviorist; he knows there's no such thing as miracles, only hard work and dedication. Only this time it wasn't his. It was Blue's time, effort, and uncharacteristic affection that turned a furious, hateful killing machine into something that could be now what he might have been then, before InGen had their way. Omega lives in the house now. He eats when they do. He joins the family in their gatherings, as long as Blue is with him, and although his temper is still zero to 60 when roused, these days it's much harder to set him off than it used to be, even if that wouldn't be saying much. He prefers his mate and solitude over anything else, but his violently aggressive tendencies have been all but curbed for the sake of keeping Blue happy.
For obvious reasons, Owen has kept a close eye on them both from day one, and even from the very beginning Omega has treated Blue like the center of the universe. Owen himself has salvaged his share of abused, wild animals -- it's literally part of the job -- but he knows without question that no one could have done this but her. And her success is absolutely indisputable.
Case in point: today, Omega's dislike for interacting with unfamiliar people had outweighed his desire to be with Blue as often as possible, and instead of throwing a tantrum he simply hadn't gone with her down the mountain.
For Barry, it was supplies; Echo wanted clothes; Blue was only interested in procuring necessary parts for her nearly-restored 1979 Pontiac Phoenix Firebird, a task built upon very specific requirements and one which she would never entrust to any of her siblings. The day is very nice for a sojourn into the city, considering the length of the drive: blue skies and a mild breeze, not quite so far into spring that the air is anything more than comfortably warm. Psi is helping Delta collect chili peppers and the new experimental plums. Chi fell asleep in the grass up the hill. Charlie is giving Owen a hand with replacing some worn poles along the stone steps leading down to the boys' den, when they hear the familiar sound of the Jeep rolling up the long hill that serves as their driveway.
Only, it sounds like it's coming up fast.
Owen and Charlie look at each other, and immediately drop what they're doing to meet the car just as Barry rolls up, screeching to a stop and diving out of the driver's side to rush around to the passenger door. He looks frantic. And he's helping Echo out of the car. She looks like she's about to pitch right off her feet.
"Owen!" Barry calls out urgently, eyes widening immediately as Owen rushes to them. "Owen!" He has to wrap an arm around Echo's back to keep her standing. And then, to Owen's surprise and dread, Barry yells again. "Omega!"
Owen doesn't actually know where Omega has been this whole time. But suddenly he's there next to him, clearly as alarmed at being summoned as Owen was to hear it, and Owen can practically feel the tension in the male raptor's body triple because they both realized the same thing: that Blue is not with them.
"They took her," Barry says, breathless, and the bottom falls out of Owen's stomach.
Echo tries to rouse herself, flopping a little, mumbling in groggy frustration as she tries to shake off whatever is wrong with her and help explain. But Barry keeps his hold on her and barrels right through it.
"It was InGen. They had an entire strike force, Owen, the streets are chaos now. They used non-lethals. Tranquilizers. Echo took a direct hit, but they left her behind. All of them were focused on Blue." He looks at both of them, Owen and then Omega, panicked and desperate. "They came for her."
The weather was gorgeous a minute ago. Now the entire world is ice. Owen's heart has stopped, his breath is gone. Delta and the boys come running up, but he barely notices them. Beside him is Omega, frozen; then suddenly the raptor whirls to him, eyes wide, and the fury -- the fear -- in them is apocalyptic.
Omega doesn't say a word, but Owen immediately finds his voice. "Go get her."
The male raptor is gone like a bolt of lightning. Owen turns and strides quickly to a hidden cache beneath the porch. He pulls out two assault rifles and a hell of a lot of ammo as Charlie shrieks behind him, "Why aren't we going with him?!"
"Because we're going to follow him." Owen tosses a rifle to Barry, and gestures sharply for everyone to get into the car, including the still-dizzy Echo. "After Isla Nublar, Omega found us in less than a week on nothing but Blue's scent and pure instinct. This time he knows where he's going. We'd only slow him down." The motor is still running. Almost before every door is shut, Owen jerks the Jeep into gear. His last words are almost a growl to himself. "With any luck, all we'll have to do is clean up."
The Jeep screeches in reverse, turns, and roars off down the mountain.
no subject
"Gotta give it to those doctors. They really took the wind out of your sails."
His gaze lingers, as if making sure that she's as drugged as she appears to be... then, it begins to slide down her body, very loosely covered by the thin gown that they change once a day. And something in his eyes sharpens, a gleam that was familiar, to both Blue and Owen, back when she still lived on the island.
"Y'know... I would've expected you to start in with 'Owen this, Owen that' sooner or later. Or even Omega. I can only imagine what's going through that boy's head right now." He snorts with amusement. "But you ain't like that, huh. Wanna fight your own battles, or die trying." A lingering, heavy pause. "I always did like that."
Then, Vic Hoskins dares to take a seat right on the edge of Blue's bed, out of reach of the chains at her wrists.
no subject
Her vision was still somewhat blurry, hardly the sharp crystal-clear gaze of the predator that she was, but her nose and ears told her everything necessary. He was close, and the blur in her unfocused eyes proved it. Hearing him mention Owen's name stirred her slightly, but she refused to open her mouth, even to hiss discomfort.
Then, the entire world shifted; Blue felt the cot upon which she lolled give on one side, and now she did hiss in furious agitation, the chains binding her clinking ominously. Blue lifted her head, gaze flat and evil beneath tangled black hair, and snapped her teeth as hard as she possibly could, feeling them clack together in her jaws. She tried to lunge, but the drugs and the chains kept her weak; she fell back with a breathless grunt.
But she kept trying, trying until she was absolutely exhausted. Her fingers curved into wicked talons, more than willing to rend and tear.
no subject
"Easy, easy there," he tells her over and over as she tires herself out, in a tone that is clearly supposed to be soothing. He twitches a little any time she manages to get a fresh burst of strength that snaps her a little harder against the chains, but he knows she can't keep it up forever, and as soon as she sinks weakly against the cot, he's easing back into the minuscule space he lost. "That's it. There's a good girl."
He's quiet for a minute, staring down at her, roaming... and his fingers creep over the edge of the thin gown, toying with it.
"You're gonna rip this thing off if you're not careful." His fingers tighten on it, like he's testing the strength of it. "It's real thin... hell," his voice goes slightly hoarse, gaze flickering to her face for the briefest moment before it drops back to the hem at the bottom. "You may as well not even wear it. Not if... you're gonna twist yourself all up like that."
He tugs at it. The hem slides an inch or two up her thigh.
no subject
Nevertheless, Blue waited. A few fingers twitched, but she truly was exhausted; sweat had beaded on her forehead, gleamed on exposed skin. A chain clinked briefly somewhere. Hoskins' thick scent filled her nose; Blue wanted to gag, because she could also taste it, disgusting and putrid.
Finally, when she felt just the slightest touch of fingers on her thigh, obtrusively working the hem of that medical gown upwards, Blue struck. It was quick, fast, and instant; she jerked her shackled wrist as hard as she could, raking four razor-sharp talons across the back of that hand, immediately scenting blood despite the short range of movement.
She finally deigned to speak, snarling through clenched teeth and punctuated with devilish hisses and growls, "Get-the-fuck-away-from-me!!"
no subject
Hoskins jumps back immediately, grabbing his hand and staring in trembling shock at the blood wells up from four ugly slices straight across his knuckles. It burns like seven hells, but worse is that shock of realizing that she got him just then. He knows how dangerous these animals are, god damn it, why did he get distracted--
No, hell no! He's the one in charge here, and he sure as hell didn't let it get to him when her counterpart threw his unholy tantrums. Vic Hoskins didn't come into the girl's cell to let her get away with this.
"You are god damn ungrateful, you know that?" He's got nothing to wrap his hand with, but he presses the knuckles into his shirt, soaking it with blood. Hoskins stands above Blue and glares down at her furiously. "You should be thanking me for your entire precious life. Who brought Owen onto this project? I did. Who let him set you girls up in that sweet little bungalow, give you all kinds of nice things? I did! All I asked for was a little cooperation, huh?"
Eyes flashing, Hoskins impulsively grabs the belt knife kept always at his back. He grabs a fistful of that offensive fabric and slices right into it, tearing a messy strip right out of it, leaving her thigh and half her stomach bare.
"You aren't gonna stop this from happening, honey," Hoskins sneers, and with the same kind of sudden thought, he grabs that bare thigh and jerks it, pulling her against the chains toward the edge of the cot until she's yanked taut. "I put this whole damn thing together from the beginning."
no subject
His ravings meant less than shit to Blue; apparently he still believed himself the Great Mind behind this entire project--their lives, goddamnit--and that was supposed to earn him instant respect and immediate gratitude. Well, Blue had no intention whatsoever of giving in to that particular brand of lunacy, no matter what happened to her physically.
Although the thick fingers digging into her bare thigh prompted another prehistoric shriek, and she thrashed as much as she could, renewed hatred fighting the lethargy sapping her strength. The steel cuffs began to cut into her ankles and wrists, slicking the metal with red, red blood, but she refused to quit. She'd never stop fighting, as long as his hand remained on her body.
no subject
Her screams reverberate off of the metal, making his ears and his head ache, but he ignores it. She's not gonna scare him off just by being noisy, and he's feeling a lot less forgiving after taking such a nasty swipe across the back of his hand. Honestly, he's starting to think that Owen Grady isn't the raptor whisperer everybody believes he is, including Hoskins himself; this girl has no self-control, and she just plain refuses to listen to reason.
It was the same with Omega. That boy was walking perfection when he started out, but then he just got worse and worse. And yet, Hoskins knew he wasn't working with a rational, functioning human being. These were animals, and they could be trained, but they had to understand they were inferior. Mankind calls the shots. Always.
He can't keep his grip right there on her thigh forever, but Hoskins is going full steam ahead with what's in his mind now. And it's been on his mind -- in the back of it, at least -- for a long time now. The raptor hybrids are very pretty girls, but Blue... well, she just got better and better as she grew up. What a true beauty. And the way she moved, all fluid and graceful, but with that touch of savagery that made him know she was the perfect specimen he needed. He'd admired her for a lot of different reasons. And he saw the way she looked at Owen sometimes. The girl's got a thing for authority figures, all right.
So he straddles the thin cot, shoving himself between her legs. If she was at full strength, she might be able to crush him with them, but there's no way the drugs or the chains are gonna let her do it now. And it leaves his hands momentarily free to shove the knife back into his belt, and wrap up his bloody knuckles with the strip of cloth. Her medical gown is torn to the point of being useless, and the sight of her half-naked body straining at the chains gets his motor running with the help of the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Yeah, she's dangerous. But she's still just an animal.
"You're gonna give me what I want, little girl," he rasps, breathing heavily now as he works open his belt and his jeans with unsteady hands. He's already hard enough, and she doesn't need to be ready for him. "One way or the other..." And he pulls her hips toward him and fumbles between her thighs until he abruptly shoves himself inside her, thrusting forward against the tight muscles that resist him.
no subject
She froze, blue eyes wide and now filled with inchoate terror when she at last realized what was happening, and Blue inhaled only to scream again, this time in pain when she felt him penetrate her! Her entire body locked, every limb stiffening in absolute rage, but the chains held her fast. Metal shrieked along with her as she tried her absolute best to turn her claws to his flesh--any part she might reach!
Her screams soon became wails and cries of indomitable defiance, but tears began to leak from behind her tightly closed eyelids. Her wrists and ankles were raw and bloody, flesh torn from her wild thrashings, but even as strong as she was, Blue couldn't fight the residual drugs competing with her anger and fear. Although she still wailed and cried, her body soon fell limp, though she shuddered with pure revulsion, keeping her teeth clenched to swallow her sobs and her face turned unseeing at the gouged white wall.
no subject
He can do whatever he wants. These are his projects, his careful plans. If her body has already accepted the hybrid implantation, then excellent, he'll get exactly what he was aiming for. And if not... her offspring might have DNA skewed toward the human side, but he'll get his hybrids one way or the other. Sooner or later, maternal instinct will kick in, and she'll stop fighting so much as long as the infant is well taken care of. And why wouldn't it be?
There she goes: the fight is finally draining out of her, and it's a lot easier once she's not thrashing against the chains and his hands gripping her hips, jerking her down every time he pushes in, breathing heavily with the exertion of proving his superiority. Her tears and her cries don't matter; sooner or later, she'll get over it, accept her place in the food chain. It's almost fitting that they're surrounded by the claw marks and scraped metal of the one hybrid who never managed to learn that lesson.
He looks down at Blue, her skin flushed by her anger, her body gripping him so tight -- with eager grunts, Hoskins thrusts in hard once, twice, three times -- he groans as he reaches his climax inside her, hips jerking until he's spent. Dizzy with satisfaction and the chills of adrenaline fading away, he climbs off of her and fixes himself up, looking down at her now with smug derision.
"There's a good girl," he snorts, and before he leaves, he can't resist sneering, "You ever do that for your 'alpha'?"
no subject
Blood still seeped from her wrists and ankles, it was caked over the scarred metal, but the shackles still held her fast. Every now and again a shiver racked through her; her flesh was cold, clammy. Blue couldn't open her eyes, the nightmare would return and she'd be helpless to stop it.
She felt--nothing.
It was only hours later, after the moon had risen high above Isla Sorna and been obscured by the gathering storm clouds, did the sound of broken sobs mourn through the impenetrable steel bars.
no subject
Hoskins shows up toward the end -- to supervise. As usual. The head technician makes eye contact with him, but neither one of them says a word, and the sharp edge in Hoskins' gaze turns the technician's attention swiftly back to Blue.
They give her an IV for her daily nutrients, and while the tropical storm rolls over the island, Blue is left alone. It isn't until the following morning, after the technicians have done their routine and taken a fresh blood sample to track the fertilization process, that the door to the white dungeon clangs open again, and Hoskins strolls in alone.
He stops outside Blue's cage, eyeing her within. "Seems like we finally took the fight out of you, huh."
+++++
The seas are choppy and rough in the aftermath of yesterday's storm, with another one billowing up on the horizon, but the speedboat cuts its way through the waves at 50 knots heading straight for the island rising jaggedly from the ocean. It's small, but it doesn't need to be big. It just needs to be fast. It's taken him a week to catch up to his mate and she's there, on that island, captured by the same bastards who imprisoned him and his brothers for most of their lives.
Omega steers the motor against a particularly deep swell, ducking back against the assault of salt water but staying fixed on course. The boat is stolen, from a private dock on the mainland. That was after six days of tracking the magnetic thread connecting his heart to Blue, on foot and on the backs of trucks and ferries and at one point a train; at one point, he'd even entertained the insane thought of stowing away on a commercial airline, but that plan didn't have a chance in hell of working. Not when every second counted. He barely ate, slept only in exhausted patches when whatever was beneath him was moving on its own, and made it to Costa Rica far sooner than any human could have managed it without flight.
If this had happened a year ago, out of sheer madness he might have tried to swim the distance and drowned. But Blue taught him how to sail, how to operate the boats that ran with motors. Now Omega is mere minutes away from Isla Sorna and closing it at 90 miles an hour.
The beaches will be guarded. He knows that. And the idea of just cruising right up to the ferry is an absolute joke. No safe way of sneaking onto the island from a boat, and even if he had his own helicopter, he'd never make it overhead without gaining a lot of attention. So, he'll try a different approach -- because it is his mate on that island, with InGen, with Vic Hoskins, and Omega would sooner drown himself on purpose than not to every last thing in his power to get her out.
As the roar of the waves crashing on rocks grows louder, Omega turns the boat diagonally on its path, aiming it sideways at the cliffs, and then he climbs up onto the side and dives. The boat speeds on its course and crashes into the rocks jutting up from the sea around the island, its momentum carrying it up and over, the bottom scraped to shreds; Omega swims underwater toward the island in the other direction, and pops up in time to be swept by a wave hard into the rocks. But he catches at it fiercely, clinging until the water recedes and leaves him coughing and soaked to the bone, and then pulls himself up from one rock to the next until he's standing above the waves, at the bottom of the sheer, jagged cliffs.
He looks over his shoulder, toward the dark clouds gathering in the far distance; the wind is strong already, and it'll only get worse. The aching pull of his mate is unbearable; Omega looks back up the vast height of the cliff, eyes stinging with seawater. One hand finds a rocky outcropping that holds his weight when he digs his claws in; the other hand finds a second one, higher.
He starts climbing.
no subject
If completely without any spark of life.
The storm rolled overhead, and while Blue had always enjoyed the sound of thunder and lash of rain, she seemed unaware of the broiling tropical depression, her head turned away from the cell door and eyes gazing unseeing and unfocused at the wall, lids only half-open. The tranquilizers had slowed her breathing, sapped all of her energy so that her chest only rose and fell slightly, the breaths she did take sparse and shallow.
When Hoskins entered her cell again, alone, there was no response from the creature prone on the cot.
no subject
And what Hoskins feels like doing to her again.
He closes the cell door behind him and steps closer to her bed, eyeing her with enough caution lingering from the last time; his hand stings like all hell, and even if he didn't need stitches for it, there's gonna be a scar there for a nice, long time. She's got a brand new gown, but that doesn't matter much. She's still chained, still drugged, and apparently at the end of her seemingly limitless capacity for defiance.
But still, he can't be too careful. Hoskins decides that a little test might be in order. He approaches her from the end of the cot, and this time he leans slowly over her, looking her prone body up and down. This is almost too easy. He could do anything to her like this. Anything. Maybe one day he'll even be able to take those chains off. Not too soon, though. And to make sure she's as meek and passive as she seems to be, he slides a hand slowly up to squeeze a rough handful of her breast.
+++++
Omega's claws are cracked, his fingers cut and bleeding from the rocks. He'd almost fallen twice: once, thanks to some loose rocks, and again because the shrieking wind gusted so hard that it nearly blew him straight off into the sea. But he clung to the cliffs, using the harsh rocks to brace himself against the unforgiving wind, and he kept going, because he was going to reach Blue or die trying.
And finally, he'd dragged himself over the edge of the cliff, onto flat, solid ground, and he was back on Isla Sorna once more. He would have fought tooth and nail against being dragged back here, and now he couldn't return to it fast enough.
His body could stand to lie there for a minute, catching his breath and blinking salt and wind out of his eyes. But there's no time for that. Omega picks himself up, ignoring the half-dry clothes sticking uncomfortably to his skin, and races off into the jungle. He knows exactly where he's going. This is his childhood home, after all.
As soon as he gets close enough, the ugly, human, scientific scents of the compound hit him in an all-too-familiar rush, and memory rolls over him in a nauseating wave. He nearly reels back on pure instinct, the half-buried animal in his mind shrieking at him to turn back, they are the enemy, you can escape, you won't ever go back. But the pull of mate smothers that voice like a dying flame. The CERHA Division compound might as well be Hell on earth, and Omega would still run headfirst into it just to get to Blue.
Under the circumstances, however, that would actually be a very stupid idea.
Omega is not surprised in the least to find the compound heavily guarded by fully-armed ACU, decked out in tactical gear and non-lethals (god, they just never give up). But it's not just tasers and nets -- those are tranquilizer rockets, and he'd bet a pirate's fortune that there's a generous dose of MORO-709 waiting in those payloads. Clearly, they're expecting him. Well, that's touching.
In the old days, he would have run in headfirst. He'd have charged the compound -- maybe from a weak point, maybe picking off a few first, but it would have had all the strategy of a savage creature driven by violence and fury. That won't do his mate any good now. As much as Omega would love to cut a path straight through those bastards, it wouldn't be hard for them to take him down, even if they lost some men along the way.
On the first day they met, Blue warned him against letting hate make him reckless. 'You're giving in to the beast too much, that makes them afraid. Weak fearful prey bands together, becomes strong.' At the time he'd dismissed it as pure ignorance. Now he knows better, and once again it's entirely thanks to her.
For one sharp instant, Omega's heart is gripped tight, and despite all sense of reason, a deadly, howling fury rises up in his chest, white-hot in his blood and flashing behind his eyes. It's a feeling he knows so well, too well, one he's only been able to control under Blue's firm patience and loving touch. They took her from him. Reason or not, they're going to pay for that in blood.
And Hoskins...
Omega clenches his teeth, eyes bright, claws flexing in the shadows of the jungle. He can't go straight through them. They know him, as he used to be. They're expecting him to try it, driven by rage and bloodlust, unable to wait. So, he'll have to try something else.
He jumps quickly to the high branches of the trees and circles the large compound, silent and swift and hidden.
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The drugs still soaked her nervous system, making her slow, somnambulant, docile. Unfortunately the tranquilizers didn't dull her pain receptors; Blue's entire body throbbed with every slow heartbeat. An eyelash flickered as the fat man approached the cot, perhaps a chain clinked, unseen.
Her head was turned away, lips barely parted on shallow, uneven breaths. But try as she might, wish that she might, Blue could only clench her fists, and hardly enough to strain, when Hoskins groped her breast, the rough rude pain lost in a cacophony of other hurts and misery.
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But he shouldn't be wasting time here, because she's still a science experiment, and they're operating on a clock. He wasn't lying when he said he was getting impatient. So Hoskins gets up with a creak from the cot and turns around to spread her legs open again, once more pulling her taut against the chains at her wrists. The feel of her soft breast beneath his palm has him stirred up already, but just to get it going a little more, he rubs her thighs, appreciating how weak and helpless all that lean muscle is to him right now.
Yeah... he's ready. She might not even be as painfully tight as last time, when she's not fighting against the drugs. Hoskins reaches for his belt and opens it up quickly, unbuttoning his pants, too eager for this to bother with playing around anymore -- there's always time for that later--
Suddenly, with the ominous sound of power failing, all the lights in the dungeon go out. A second later, red lights begin to flash from above each cage and the doorway as an alarm sounds from somewhere above them. A female electronic voice speaks with artificial calm overhead.
"Warning: Critical Loss of Power in Primary Generator. Auxiliary Power Redirected to Containment Levels."
Hoskins jerks back, his pants loose and sliding, and he grabs haphazardly at them as he stumbles quickly for the door. Too late: the electronic lock on the cage slams into place, trapping him inside as the red lights strobe in the darkness.
"Shit!" Fumbling, he snatches up the radio from his belt and yells into it. "What the hell is going on?!"
The radio crackles. "--generator's down--"
Hoskins shakes his head furiously. "That's a geothermal generator, it doesn't go down!"
"Somebody--isconnected pipe--broken turbines, the whole things torn to p--"
All Hoskins can do for a second is stare at the radio in his hand through the intermittent flash of red. "What in the--"
HWOOM. The entire compound shakes, rattling the bars of the cages. Someone on the other end of the radio clicks on long enough for frantic shouting to be heard in the background.
"Jesus Chris--armory! Get the hell away from the--s that the goddamn rocket launcher--"
Another explosion rocks the ceiling above them and the cages shudder again. Shock dawns slowly to horror, and Hoskins doesn't even remember to fix his pants as he tries furiously to unlock the cage, prying at the mechanism until he remembers the keys on the back of his belt. He grabs wildly at them but his belt slips under his shaking hands, pants slipping down. "Jesus--!"
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She dimly heard Hoskins barking and swearing somewhere nearby, but at least he wasn't right there again, looming over her, thank God. The crackle of the radio reached her just as the facility rocked on its foundations, and real panic began to close Blue's throat, slowly evaporating the haze of drugs.
Her struggles were weak, so very weak, but she jerked at the restraints regardless, feeling the crusted metal bite again into her flesh, but there was no way in hell she was going to die this way! Blue tried to scream, but the sound was limp, hollow, and entirely without volume, sounding instead like a whimpered moan, but she kept pulling, although her strength was barely enough to even move the heavy chain links.
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This wasn't supposed to happen. The ground is still vibrating with intermittent explosions, and the klaxons blare in his ears, the red making his eyes water, his head aching. He knows what it is. The compound is under attack. God damn it, he knew they were coming, but how could Owen Grady possibly have made it past the blockades on the beaches, how could the raptors have breached the entire army of ACU guards surrounding the fences without sounding any alarms? He knows his boys. Knows them damn well. Raised them from birth. They never learned to be that subtle, and if there was one animal who could never resist even the smallest opportunity for bloodshed -- even at the cost of his own safety -- it was Omega--
All of a sudden the door to the dungeon slams open with a metallic crash, and Hoskins drops the keys.
He curses wildly, but doesn't dare take his eyes off the door, not even as he stoops unsteadily down and tries to feel around for the key. Then two dark shapes come flying out, one of them hitting the bars of the cage, the other one crumpling to the ground before Hoskins's eyes. They're the guards who were stationed outside the door, bloody and mangled. One of them had his chest caved in, shards of bone sticking out in the flashes of red light. The other one has no head.
Hoskins reels back from the bars, forgetting all about the key. Darkness coats his eyes, in the same instant that a dreadful purrrr curls its way to his ears, nearly inaudible beneath the sound of the alarms.
In the next flash of red, Omega is standing outside the bars of the cage door.
His claws are soaked in blood that's not his own, his whole body is vibrating with the adrenaline of killing, but for once Omega is not consumed by his own exhilaration. All of that was just necessary action, taken to get here, to find her, and he felt her pull him straight down to hell, a place he'll feel like the ghost of chains on his body for the rest of his life. But now that he's here, he doesn't see anything else but her.
And then -- Hoskins.
Blue is hurt, or sick, or both. Badly. Omega can see that at a glance, but more than that, Vic Hoskins is in there with her, alone with his mate, and he's responsible for this, for her pain -- and then--
And then--
He sees the weakness in his mate, the helpless splay of her body, and the open trousers dropping halfway down the trembling legs on that fat, disgusting sack of meat. In the instant that passes between seeing them, and realizing this, Omega's eyes widen, flashing white hot as his lungs constrict, and then suddenly the fire burns so hot that the burn turns to ice. Something utterly black descends over him, in that single heartbeat, everything in the world erased. Omega knows he's never felt anger like this. He didn't know what fury was until now.
The containment measures here are old and rusted. He is not. And there is nothing on this wretched earth that will come between him and his mate, least of all the hubris of InGen. Omega grabs the bars of the door, and doesn't bother with the lock. With a savage howl, he wrenches the entire thing off at the hinges and throws it aside to crash against his brother's cage, and then Omega throws himself at Hoskins and has his claws -- finally; finally -- around that disgusting throat--
Hoskins chokes, gurgles, terrified, and Omega's claws pierce skin, but then the compound rocks above them as another explosion tears down walls much closer to them this time. Omega quickly looks up, and then down at his mate as he comes immediately to his senses: she can't free herself. This place is going to come down on their heads before long. As much as he would love -- god, would he love it -- to scrape the bones out of this man, this god damn bastard who dared to lay a hand on his mate, he's not going to risk Blue's life for this.
His attention whips back to Hoskins, and in the next flash of red, he forces the man to his knees and slams a foot straight down on his leg. Flesh and bone crushes with a stomach-wrenching noise, and Hoskins shrieks; Omega lets him go, allows him to collapse in screaming agony back against the bars, and whirls to his mate's side, where he never should have left.
What have they done to her?
Omega doesn't waste time looking for the right keys. One by one, he grabs each chain and twists, pulls, presses a boot to the wall -- they shatter at the base, until Blue is left with dangling chains on her wrists and ankles, but she's free. And Omega's stomach roils, because when he pulls her into his arms, she doesn't have the strength to tell him to go to hell, and even in the flashing lights he can tell that her face is grey, her beautiful eyes (they should be so sharp, so bright) unfocused and dilated. There aren't enough ways to scorch the earth beneath the ashes of InGen to make them pay for this...
But he doesn't throw Hoskins a second glance as he dashes from the dungeon with Blue in his arms, cradled tight to his chest.
Above, there is nothing but chaos. The rooms over the dungeon are crumbling, broken; corpses litter the floor, of guards and technicians alike, and through the windows there are screams and yells and a bright orange glow. Another explosion bursts in the distance, quaking the earth, but Omega is steady on his feet, until they finally break out of the building and race across a compound that is slowly burning to the ground. They head straight for the trees, and Omega doesn't slow until he's brought his mate far from the devastation and up onto higher ground, into a deep thicket of tree roots and fallen leaves and the prehistoric flora of the island.
Omega kneels, and very carefully lowers Blue to rest on cool earth and soft grass. With the humans far away, all that's left in his eyes is the anxious worry, a sickening fear he hasn't experienced since the Indominus let her feel its claws. He knows what they've injected into her... her body wasn't meant to take this much. This was meant for him, and he's a monster. But Blue is better than him. Smarter. He should never have let this happen. He should have seen this coming...
He strokes back the tangle of her hair, both hands touching her face with a gentleness that has only ever belonged to her. Then he looks back toward the compound, and in his eyes narrow.
In an instant he's gone, a bolt of lightning headed straight for the battlefield down the hill.
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Then she heard Hoskins' shriek, but felt her chains being severed and darkness loomed in her eyes, a fresh wash of that scent filling her nose and nearly making her weep with relief. Safe, her shocked mind finally realized. Safe. Home. Safe. She felt herself lifted, then carried, arms pulled down by the weight of the chains still trailing behind.
Moments later she smelt earth, trees, and the last of the rain, filling her nose with all the scents of her childhood, coupled with the scents of home and mate, yes... Blue mewled softly, trying to focus her eyes on the living darkness before her, tried to reach up to run her hands over it, but lolled back against the roots and grass, exhausted. The drugs still held sway over her system; time would purge it, but she was dangerously helpless until then.
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Why his hybrid had come back for him in a dungeon half-buried beneath burning rubble, Hoskins still doesn't know. But somehow he doubts it's because the magical switch has finally flipped and turned the savage beast into a loyal companion. Omega had dragged him by the neck all the way out of the compound and into the deep jungle and then tossed him at a tree like a rag doll, and Hoskins can barely tell what is happening now, nearly blind with pain, but he doesn't want to die on this island.
"You..." he gasps, "...you don't have to do this, boy. You know that. Things got rough, that's all--" Oh Jesus, the pain is shooting up through his body in bolts of lightning, taking the wind out of him. But he's gotta appeal to the raptor's reason. He's not dead yet. That's gotta mean something. Maybe humanity has finally started to kick in.
"You did good here," Hoskins insists, trying to blink through agony, trying to sound as soothing and proud of his animal as Owen always did with his. "What a... what a hell of a plan, huh? Didn't see it coming. But this is what I... ugh... this is what I always wanted for you. You see that? I gave this to you. I'm on your side. Everything you have now... thanks to me... you and Blue--"
A fist slams into the tree just above his head, sending down a shower of splinters and chunks of bark, and Hoskins chokes on his own words. Omega's teeth are inches from his face, and bared.
"If you say her name again, I'm going to rip out your tongue and feed it to you."
The deliberate emphasis of those words is so much worse than the feral shrieks Omega used to make endlessly within the bars of his cage, and Hoskins can't meet the look in those burning blue eyes. He shuts his own tight, ashamed of being afraid in a tiny little corner of his mind, but every other part of him hurts and can't take whatever's coming. He wonders for a wild second if he could just start crawling away. Maybe he could find a hole, or get under the roots of a tree, stay there until Omega goes away, until someone else comes to find him--
Suddenly, something wraps around his throat and jerks him back against the tree. He gags.
"You know you're going to die here, right?"
Omega's voice is hard, but almost conversational, and coming from somewhere behind him. Hoskins scrabbles at his throat -- feels like vines, real thick and slippery, and it's hard to tear into the growth with blunt fingernails.
"I used to dream about the day I'd get to do it." Leaves rustle on the other side of the tree and the vines tighten. Hoskins' head knocks back against the trunk. Omega's tone actually turns fond. "Hearing that she hated you too was the first thing I liked about her."
The knife--! Blinking away stars, Hoskins fumbles at his belt, but the leaves crunch and the dark shadow in his peripheral vision kicks him in the side, and he yelps.
"Even after I got off the island, I would imagine coming back to find you, just to claw that ugly smirk off your face," Omega continues like nothing happened, stopping to yank the knife out of Hoskins's belt and toss it aside. Hoskins can feel another vine being lashed around his wrist, jerked sharply back against the tree, as Omega circles around again to bind the other as he talks. "We used to talk about it sometimes. But you weren't worth our attention, you fat sack of guts. I had a better life. What you and your InGen sycophants did to me, I would have hated you until my last day on earth, but I could've put it behind me. I never would've thought about you again. But then--"
The bottomless pit of poison and black fire that opens up beneath Omega's words causes Hoskins to reel back, expecting death in that very instant, as frantic as an animal in a trap who only gets caught tighter when they squirm. Omega's voice comes closer, that shadowy mass filling Hoskins's blurred vision.
"...you tried to do it to her."
Omega crouches down in front of him, and Hoskins chokes, wanting to say something that will let him get out of this alive, or at least stall a little longer. But he can't find any words. This must be what it's like for a bird or a rabbit to be paralyzed by a serpent.
"Now, one of two things will happen." Omega's voice is very calm -- an alien sound to Hoskins's ears, and horrifying. "My personal preference is for you to get a very slow, very painful death right here, tied to this tree, even if it means we simply let that leg rot off and the jungle crawl through your skin and eat you. But it's not up to me." He tilts his head away. "It's her decision. And your only hope for any kind of mercy is if she is too fucking sick of looking at your disgusting half-corpse to keep you around another second. So we're going to wait, very patiently, and see what she wants to do."
Then Omega leans in, and his voice drops lower, a hideously quiet purr, and Hoskins can finally see him as clear as a flame in darkness.
"And you'd better hope she recovers," Omega whispers, with a tension that Hoskins perceives as death hovering inches from his throat. "Because if she doesn't, I'm going to keep you alive, just so I can tear off pieces of you, one little strip at a time. If you're lucky, every wound will fester and your fat body will start eating itself faster than I want to pull you apart."
Hoskins feels like he is staring at death from a far distance; he can't think straight, can't breathe, can only try to speak. "...Please--"
"No," Omega says. Then he suddenly grabs for Hoskins's belt -- inspiring a moment of fresh, pure terror -- and jerks it out of the loops, in nearly one quick motion wrapping it above his knee through the buckle and jerking it almost tight enough to amputate. Hoskins screams so loud the jungle vibrates.
But Omega just straightens up. "Don't die yet," he orders, and then disappears.
+++++
In the distance behind him, the compound is slowly consumed by fire; on the horizon is another tropical storm, turning the sky dark and rolling steadily closer. Isla Sorna will survive his wrath, but InGen's presence won't. He should go to the beaches and deal with the other troops, but for now he's not going any farther. Besides, ACU can't track them this time.
Omega returns to the burrow in the earth where he'd left his mate, a bitter relief instantly flooding through him once he's beside her again. He immediately drops to his knees and crawls over her, touching her face and pressing his forehead to hers, nuzzling her to smother back the panic rising in his chest behind that relief. She's in bad shape. Omega has never seen her like this, couldn't even have imagined it until now, and he can scarcely wrap his brain around the reality of it as it is. His mate is fierce and proud; he knows that whatever they did to her, she went down fighting. But...
He looks her over, and realizes that he still has to take the chains off her wrists and ankles. Hoskins didn't have this key on him. There isn't much he can do about the shackles -- without the risk of hurting her -- but Omega takes the chains, and with concentrated strength bends the very last link at the cuffs until they snap. Soon enough, Blue has four coils of loose chain lying around her like metal snakes. Then comes back to settle beside her, drawing his unnaturally vulnerable mate into his arms again, ignoring the pounding of his own heart in an effort to keep track of hers.
Not a single word to Hoskins was exaggerated. Omega knows how strong Blue is, but he also knows just as well what InGen is capable of. Blue should never have come here, should never have had to see the inside of that compound; InGen's hands should never have touched her, not for one goddamn second. Looking at her now, Omega remembers very well how it feels to be suffocating under an overdose of MORO-709. But he'd been dealing with the stuff for years. They gave her too much. All of Omega's scars and vivid memories of a life spent here are old... not nearly as important as the ones he's made with Blue since then, the marks she's left on his skin.
What they've done to Blue is different. They hurt her on the inside, in more ways than one, and Omega doesn't know how that heals, he doesn't know what he should do besides keep her safe and get her home.
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She shuddered against the heat, craving more and more of it, shivering as the drugs pulsed their eternal way through her system. Her stomach roiled, forcing her to breathe shallowly, but that was fine since every breath brought her another taste of safe, of home. Blue burrowed into the firm, lean shadow, uncaring if doing so caused her even more agonizing pain, so desperate was she for a haven of rest.
But she couldn't bite back the minute whimpers that doing so brought. Blue clenched her teeth, but waves of piercing pain rolled over her abdomen, inducing another bout of shivering as she tried to fight her own body, paralyzed by its drug-induced weakness.
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...whatever Hoskins did.
He should have gotten here sooner.
Omega holds her close against his chest, but one hand seeks out hers, closing around her fingers. He hates how cold they feel, how weak. But he remembers wishing back then for something solid to hold, something that wasn't metal or stone. He wanted it to be warm. He didn't know what safety was back then, but he would have liked that, too.
"I know," he murmurs to her, hoarse and almost too quiet. He shuts his eyes tight, nuzzling her again, wanting an answer that isn't just this. "You're gonna be fine. I'm gonna get you home."
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She was still just enough beyond coherent speech to actually say Omega's name, but her gentle trill echoed in the back of her throat, gently calling to her bonded mate, her other half. Blue closed her fingers over his, clutching their joined hands tight. She managed to return his nuzzle, somewhat; angling her head against his and wanting the rest of the world to just...fall away.
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Every muscle in his body nearly seizes with the sudden, world-ending desire to run straight down that hill and leave Hoskins in pieces all over the jungle, but two things keep him still. One, as he had plainly informed the pig, it'll be Blue's call on how he dies. And two, any movement at all would take Omega away from his mate. And that just isn't happening.
Blue's trill is answered with a low purr, which is echoed almost immediately by the sound of distant thunder. It's going to be a heavy storm, and if he has to move her, he will. But the rain will quench the fires and keep InGen away from the island a little longer. For once, Isla Sorna seems ready to protect her own, and Omega would die here just to do the same thing.
He swallows, jaw tensing, mouth hidden in her hair. "...I love you."
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The following morning revealed Blue still too weak to be more than semi-coherent; she'd opened her eyes briefly and managed a small smile for her worried mate, but had burrowed back into his arms right after, leeching all the warmth she could. Every breath brought pain; her strained muscles throbbed, but those were minor hurts compared to the agony inside.
Abdominal cramps came and went, often so sudden that a spasm had her writhing in misery, too breathless to screech. She could only mewl, licking dry lips and fighting off the shocky shivers as her body tried to purge itself of the drugs. She slipped in and out of a fitful, restless sleep, unable to be easy even with her mate's strong, careful arms around her.
By the afternoon, she'd slipped into unconsciousness again, unaware of Delta's trilling call, seeking any sign of her or Omega, or the arrival of the rest of her family, armed to the teeth and more than willing to do whatever possible to get their Beta to safety.
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Lucky for them, it turns out that the rest of the pack wasn't too far behind.
InGen must have cleared out from the island, as Omega suspected they would, although who knows what their next move will be. Especially since CERHA Division was, according to Owen, not exactly an approved operation by the parent company of Masrani Corp. InGen might come back to salvage something, but it won't be immediate. In the meantime, Blue needs serious medical attention, something Omega is utterly incapable of providing, and when he hears her sister calling he would have teleported them both in a second if he could.
Owen's familiarity with the majority of Isla Sorna is slim. He's never actually been to the compound where the boys were kept, which was significantly separated from the other facilities more related to Jurassic World. Even when Blue came here that very first time, they never saw it. But Chi and Psi are alert and tense as soon as they make landfall -- on an eerily deserted shore -- and once again it's just a matter of following along behind.
If they'd taken another day to get here, he would have gone completely out of his mind, and in all honesty he's not sure he hasn't already.
There is no sign of anyone else, no hidden traps or scented enemies. Owen left Barry and Gwen by the boat with the radio; with any luck it'll only be a quick getaway. The boys stay ahead, sometimes in sight and sometimes disappearing, and when they finally return neither one of them stops Delta from calling out in the hopes her sister will answer.
There is a frightening pause -- but then, Omega's familiar crowing answers back.
Immediately the boys take off again, this time bolting straight in the direction of their brother's voice with a keener awareness of Owen and the others what they might be walking straight into. Owen doesn't have his bike or even a Jeep but he's damn well going to keep up with the raptors one way or the other, even if that just means following the trail every time they double back. Blue didn't answer the call. The fact that Omega did is enough reason not to panic, but neither one of them has appeared yet. That is not a good sign.
But finally, the sound of raptor calls up ahead let him know that the pack has found their brother and sister, and Owen lets relief slip through the cracks in his armor. It lasts just until he clears the trees to find Omega pushing his way through the others, with an ashen-looking Blue in his arms.
"Jesus," Owen breathes. "Back up." The other five instinctively part away, but they hover anxiously close, and both Charlie and Delta look like they're about to cry. Chi and Psi are darting quick glances around the jungle, and seem drawn to the opposite direction, down a sloping hill. Owen can't tell what they're smelling or seeing and doesn't care. He touches Blue's forehead: she's burning hot, but the rest of her skin is clammy and chilled, and she's shaking all over. Omega looks grim.
"Blue. Hey, baby girl, wake up. Look at me."
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