#ofgraceandlight

The daylight had slipped away from them and Owen’s cabin was now filled with the soft glow of the fire, which Claire had been staring at for so long that her cheeks were reddened by the heat. She only glanced up when she heard the door to her left click softly shut, her gaze falling on an exhausted Owen. 

“Is she finally asleep?” she asked gently, with a smile. In the few days since they escaped the Lockwood Manor, Maisie had yet to manage sleeping through the night. Claire tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and patted the spot next to her on the sofa, beckoning him over. She didn’t want to have to, but they needed to logically consider the situation with Maisie. 

Despite his words, despite her own knowledge, Claire can’t stop the panic that builds in her chest at the sight. He’s lying to her, that must she can state as a fact. It isn’t just fine. It isn’t something he’ll be able to walk off in a second, nor is it something to ignore. Owen needs help, and Claire doesn’t know what to do. It’s a rarity; the anxiety in her mounting as her mind goes blank, refuses to give her the answer. Her stomach twists. She’s better than this— “You’re okay,” she answers, delayed, no longer completely composed. “You’re okay,” Because he has to be. “Just breathe… Don’t force it.”

“No, I mean it. Your English is actually very good.Don’t listen to anyone that says otherwise or gets frustrated when you need a second to think what to say, a foreign language is quite the task” Cedric smiled warmly to his fellow champion. “The only thing I know in French is how to ask for the toilet and that’s only because of my dad’s office party was hosted by some foreign dignitaries in the Ministry.” 

Reid watched the local uniforms milling around the crime scene. It wasn't any worse than anything else they had seen, but it still got to him. Maybe because it was a kid. They were always hard to deal with. He couldn't help thinking of Jack and Henry and Hank. As much as he tried to separate himself from his work, sometimes it was hard to do.

"He looks like he was cared for," he remarked. There was at least that, he supposed. The kid hadn't been tortured. To be honest, he appeared to be in perfect health aside from the obvious. But there was another child missing. Which meant they didn't have long. This boy had been missing less than a week before he turned up dead, and they were already past the 24 hour mark for the second boy.

It’s not exactly the time to be doing this. They’ve barely escaped with their lives, the Lockwood estate is in SHAMBLES and they’ve just watched a herd of dinosaurs overtake the quiet neighborhood. Cas should really be focusing on helping Zia with her equipment, or even calling someone to help Claire with her leg. She should be being USEFUL. But she’s having a hard time doing that.

Which is probably why she finds herself in the display room on the top floor, hunched over what used to be a raptor sculpture, crying her eyes out.

It’s not fair. None of it is FAIR. Owen’s lost his girls. Cas’ own brood is long gone, and she can’t stop thinking about every single dinosaur that hadn’t been so lucky to make it here. She can’t even find it in herself to feel any ill will toward the genetic nightmare that just tried to kill them. She’s unable to look away from the dinosaur’s mangled and impaled CORPSE and it just makes her cry even harder.

These people–no, people’s not the right word– these MONSTERS designed this creature, modified it, and left it to the highest bidder. She thinks of Owen, who handled all of his dinosaurs with the CARE of a loving parent, with a tenderness only a real handler could have. She thinks of her own sweet, innocent girls and the bond she had shared with them. That was the kind of treatment an animal deserved. The kind of love a living thing deserved. This dinosaur, this poor animal had never known that. And it DIED before it ever could. It makes her stomach churn as she wraps her arms around herself, trying to stay quiet in a GRIEF she doesn’t even know if she has any business experiencing.

The sound of another person entering the hall, has her sweeping her hand over her eyes in a hurry, hiccuping breaths struggling to form words as she catches sight of her brother. He’s the LAST person that needs to deal with her right now.

Owen: BelLA NO