Trigger Warnings for this chapter: Human violence, panic attacks, implied abuse, implied neglect, suicide, and death.

If these are triggers for you please contact me at enbysaurusrex at Gmail dot com and I will email you a version of this story edited to remove your personal triggers so that you can continue to enjoy this story with out stress, anxiety, or harm to your mental health.

Love y'all, and happy to be back RAWR! ~💗ENBYsaurus

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A quick little jaunt across the park to snag some supplies from the hospital. That was all it was supposed to be. They had, had a plan, they had, had a map, they had, had numbers, and they had, had guns. It was supposed to be quick. It was supposed to be easy. And they were supposed to be back by dark at the latest.

That was two days ago.

Two, agonizing days ago.

Two. Darius reminded himself.

Two days.

Brooklynn, and Sammy had been gone for two days.

Two whole days.

It was so true to their luck that Darius could have laughed.

Only it had been two days, and no one knew where they were or what had happened to them.

Radio silence.

For two days.

Now, he realized, squinting towards the freshly broken dawn, this made three.

Three days.

There had been radio silence for three fucking days.

-CCF Day Fifteen-

Darius couldn't find a good enough reason to sleep anymore, let alone to laugh, not even at his own miserable expense. His eyes were sore and watery, it felt like sandpaper scraping over them every time he blinked. His head swam with more than worry. He was dizzy, and fatigued by the harrowing spector of the unknown. Shadows jumped out at him from the corners of his gaze, as his mind starved for rest, and deprived of hope fought against his now tentative resolve.

He wasn't about to give up on them, not for one second! He vowed, hands clenching into fists around his pen and paper.

Is this what it was like for everyone back home? His mind wondered then. Is this what mom and Brand were going through? It felt like- like- like cancer had a hold of his life and his loved ones all over again.

That's what this was. This fear? This situation? The helplessness, the hopelessness? It was cancer eating away at everything that was Darius Bowman. Soon, soon, he felt there would be nothing left. Nothing. Just like dad...

A shuddering breath escaped the boy as he struggled against an overwhelming crush of tears at the memory of his father's battle weary face. Their last goodbye. But, he reminded himself, he wasn't beaten yet. Everything would be alright. The girls were coming back, they would have Ben's medicine, and one way or another he would get his friends off this island!

Feeling more resolute than he had moments before Darius put aside his notebook, and stretched his aching, and discolored shoulder. It still hurt, but, not in the make spots dance infront of your eyes way it used to. As he massaged the joint the boy watched a thin veneer of clouds in the distance take on the pink hue of early morning. He wondered, mournfully at first, if Brooklynn whose smiling face was reflected in the dawn was somewhere watching the sunrise with him, without even realizing it?

Yeah, he thought, replacing his despair with hope, she was, she had to be. Sammy too. They were somewhere safe, watching the same sunrise, and planning their return journey to the Plaza. Once they got back everything would be alright again, even if it wasn't.

With a half smile Darius got up, and got to work. There truthfully wasn't much to do around the room with the majority of 608's occupants bedridden, save for Yasmina's exercises, and Kenji's now self-powered trips to the bathroom and mini-fridge. In Sammy's absence however, the almost obsessive level of cleaning had to fall to someone, and that, naturally, was Darius.

Besides, keeping busy kept him distracted. He started in the bathroom with the washcloth that had been designated for it. How cute was Sammy to tie different knots in the corners of their cleaning cloths so that the bathroom germs never touched their food surfaces?

Darius let out a tearful sigh. He really missed her can-do spirit, and bright, optimistic personality, one that could fill a whole room with promise. He hoped she was alright, he thought, hugging the rag before his sleep deprived brain could better of it. She was, she was alright! And if she were here right now she'd have him by the ear for being so silly! With this in mind Darius set to scrubbing.

"Jesus, Kenji!" he muttered after spying the tell-tale yellow spatter of a guy with poor aim. "After today you're retired." Darius then commented to the now condemned washcloth. "No way I'm using you again after this one."

After the bathroom and a thorough washing of his hands Darius moved to the bunk room. There he dusted crumbs off the little table in the corner, shook out the blankets, and remade the beds, noting the need for a good vacuuming once everyone else was awake. Just because he couldn't sleep it didn't mean that he had to make it everyone else's problem. The "living room" was next, and much of the same in terms of needs, which left sweeping off crumbs, and realigning cushions.

By the time he'd finished with everything the sun had risen in all its triumph and glory, yet, there was still no sign of Brooklynn, or Sammy, and the unlucky trio of campers who occupied the beds slumbered on. Neatening up their blankets around them Darius couldn't help but feel responsible for the state each and every one of them was in, but none more keenly than Ben. As he watched the sandy haired boy shook with a light tremor, red faced, his brow broken with sweat. He needed those antibiotics, and he needed them now.

Hesitating Darius wondered if he should uncover the other boy to vent some of his fever away or not. He remembered the look Yasmina had given the last time he'd tried helping her out with her bed mate, and now he wasn't too sure of himself.

"'Fevers are good,'" she had said. "'It means that his body is fighting back. If we uncover him we're reducing his ability to burn it out.'"

Darius remembered his mom saying something similar when he'd been sick before, but this wasn't just some stomach bug. More so, Darius worried that Ben would start seizing again. Without Katie's guidance, and the close to indifferent nature, self-preservation motivated or otherwise, the other soldiers were treating Ben's condition with the kids didn't have much else to go on, but their less than wisened life experiences and know how.

As long as Ben's temperature remained relatively consistent he was safe, Darius reasoned to himself. It was a drastic spike in body temp that had caused the seizure, not necessarily the fever itself. Besides, Darius would wager that if he tried readjusting Ben at this point that Yaz would bite his head clean off. So he resolved to trust in her judgment. It was after all Darius’ fault that Ben was a lagging NPC now aways.

No! Fuck! What was the matter with him? How could he think that? Darius criticized, smacking himself in the head over and over as the tears started to come. He was going to hell. Sure the way Ben jumped and stammered about now reminded him of a video game in need of a better graphics card, but he was still in there God damn it! He had to be! He had to be. He... he... he was going to die...

A cold, sharp dagger cut Darius' chest open wide at the thought. Choked for air he scrambled for the patio door. He couldn't let them hear, couldn't let them see, couldn't let them know that he was losing hope. Pelting over the threshold and across the balcony he only stopped when in a rush of air the railing crushed the very breath from his lungs. A short, pained yelp tore from Darius' mouth as gravity took hold of him by the shoulders, causing him to pivot up and damn near over the bar itself.

In a flash he saw Jason's crumbled form, heard the yellow clad mother's scream, and felt Ben's skin dig beneath his fingernails.

"Fuck." the boy whimpered, before he could scramble backwards.

Slamming himself in a panic to the seated position, tailbone flaring with the abrupt contact, Darius sat for a long minute in shock and unable to breathe. Hands shaking with the fear and adrenaline of such a close, such an infinitesimally stupid call. He felt his throat tighten, air caught in a chest bruised by the rail. It was when he had finally regained the ability to breathe that Darius finally allowed himself to cry. The guilt-ridden nightmare of his own suicide freshly restored and vivid in his mind.

It was his fault, he thought.

It was all his fault.

From the moment Darius had arrived at Camp Cretaceous all he'd done was put people's lives in danger.

From sneaking out the see the raptors, to their first encounter with Toro, all he'd done was make stupid, reckless, selfish decisions that could have gotten someone hurt or killed.

It had been his idea to try herding the sinoceratops.

It had been his idea to go to the observation tower that day.

It had been Darius that dropped Jayson to his death.

He couldn't breathe.

It had been his choice to leave the wreckage of the Treehouse, arguably the first place rescuers would have looked for the campers.

It had been his bummed shoulder that slowed the kayak he and Sammy shared causing Yasmia to risk her life in the mosasaurus tank.

It had been his own squeamish, cowardice that had dropped Ben.

His head was spinning.

It had been Darius who'd brought them here to the Prehistoric Plaza, and brought them directly under the jack booted tyranny of the ACU team.

He had been the one to let the girls go.

He should have made a stronger argument when they'd met with the ACU in 605.

He should have been more convincing when Brooklynn had pulled him into the bunk room.

He should have held onto them and never let either one go.

He should have-

He should have-

His chest hurt.

His chest really fucking hurt, and not from the metal bar.

They were gone.

Just gone.

A cascade of snot and tears poured down his face.

They were gone.

They were gone.

They were gone.

It was all his fault.

Brooklynn was gone.

She was gone.

She was gone.

No more.

No more camera.

No more laughter.

No more shared secrets.

No more staring death in the face and knowing it was ok, because there was someone right beside you, holding your hand.

No more Brooklynn.

Gone.

She was just gone...

Sammy, Sammy was gone too.

Just gone.

No more indomitable courage.

No more endless compassion.

No more stubborn determination.

No more glue to bind the group together, no matter what.

She was just gone.

He couldn't breathe.

They were gone.

They were just gone.

Something was wrong with him, Darius thought somewhere far distant and buried beneath the fear, the pain, the guilt. Something was really fucking wrong.

His heart hurt.

It was going too fast.

He was breathing too fast.

Something was wrong!

Make it stop!

Make it stop!

Someone please make it stop!

I'm going to die! He thought, the frenzied desperation in his mind becoming a deafening roar of anxiety and despair.

I'm dying!

This is what dying feels like!

I'm dying!

I'm dying!

He couldn't do this anymore!

He couldn't!

He'd killed them!

It was all his fault.

Who's next? He wondered the haunting question echoing in his mind, ringing out in the many accusatory voices of his friends.

Who's next?

Who's next?

Who's next?

Make it stop!

I'm dying!

Make it stop!

Somewhere on the periphery of his consciousness Darius was aware that something hard, had shoved against his side. Again, and again this something pushed and shoved, and jostled the boy. It was only after several minutes that the concerned honking which accompanied the action reached his ears. Peeling his eyes open with great effort Darius struggled to the surface.

Go away! He thought, staring at the tiny animal through narrow, angry slits as she persisted.

Get away from me!

Go the fuck away!

"Go aw-" the scream that ripped itself from his lips quickly stiffled as he clamped his hands hard over his mouth.

He couldn't wake the others.

He couldn't let them know.

He couldn't-

Couldn't-

It was his fault-

His fault they were all going to-

To-

Her fault-

It was her fault-

Why wouldn't she just leave him alone?

If they woke up now, it was because of her.

If they saw him like this it was her fault.

Her fault.

Her fault!

Without warning, without Darius even realizing what was going to happen, what he was going to do all of the rage, the uncertainty, the fear, the guilt, and the festering self-hatred exploded outward in a flurry of kicks and flying fists as he battered the baby animal. Everything poured out of him like an over boiling pot, and onto a bleating Bumpy who cowered and cried. After a minute Darius' furious assault began to slow as he tired, his hands hurt. Out of breath, he stopped and looked down at what he was doing.

Tail low, eye swollen, the corner of her mouth reopened from whatever toothy little creature had attacked her and Ben, Bumpy backed fearfully away from the boy. Darius felt hollow. Spent. Everything was gone, ripped out from his insides by this place, by everything they had been through, by everything he had done, and all of the pain he had caused. And now? Now, after a lifetime of hoping, dreaming, praying to see a dinosaur in real life, just once, he'd hurt and betrayed the only one that hadn't tried to kill him.

But- but- she was so much more than that.

She was Bumpy.

She had been with them through all of it, everything. She had braved the Indominous, she had braved the mosasaurus, the pterosaurs, the jump from the train. She had risked her life for them. She had found Ben. She had brought him back to them. She wasn't just some animal the campers had picked up. She was one of them.

Through his emptiness Darius felt remorse, and sorrow for what he'd done, but it was distant and removed. His sadness felt, like something he could touch, but not quite hold, like cupping your hands with water. It eventually all spilled out. He was tired. He was so damn tired. How could he have done that? He asked himself then, even as a sense of... relief settled around him, having finally freed everything he'd been keeping inside for so long.

How could he have done that? He asked himself once more. She was Bumpy, and he loved her.

Darius reached towards the little ankylosaurus, needing her to know that. Needing her to know it wasn't him. He wouldn't ever. Needing her to know that he was sorry. Anxiously, Bumpy shuffled away beneath the shadow of his outstretched hand.

"I'm sorry." he rasped hoarsely. "I-I'm so sorry."

He was crying again, only this time the tears weren't hot, angry things that scorched him from the inside out. These weren't tears driven by fear, by grief, by despair, and rage. No, these tears were cold, and broken. Just like him.

"I'm so sorry Bumpy." Darius sobbed curling into the ground, the very bones in his body weighing him down. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he repeated over and over, to Bumpy, to Jayson, to Brooklynn, to Sammy, to his mom, to his dad, to... to everyone...

It was his fault.

It was all his fault...

A long somber moment passed. Then another. Then, nudging him, Bumpy managed to push her way beneath the boy's chin, then chest, until Darius was half laying on top of her. There the little animal settled, a stoney pillow beneath him. She gave a small, low rumble from where her head poked out by his stomach. Holding onto her plates, with hands bruised and swelling, Darius thought that it almost, but not quite, sounded like a baritonous purr.

Clinging with a tight desperation to make amends, and hugging her with all his might the young man was immensely grateful that she, was a better, person than he was...

"Darius, hey, Darius." a voice called to him. "Earth to junior, come in junior!" Kenji's irate tones cut in, reaching Darius somewhere in the dark where he'd mistaken solitude for safety.

There was a loud and jarring clang that was instantaneously accompanied by a blood boiled sting in the boy's brow as an empty can bounced off his forehead.

"What the fuck?" Darius railed, his voice a hoarse discord of anger and exhaustion as he surged up from the floor where he and Bumpy lay. Glaring Darius could see the strained but worried look on his assailant's face.

"How long have you been out here?" Kenji, who used the doorframe for support asked, brows knit.

Darius blinked, slow to come back into himself, throat dry, eyes puffy, and hazed from crying. The world around him refused to, for a moment, come into focus. Everything wavering with a strange, amorphous blur. Darius was hot, and his skin felt baked, seemingly radiating a heat of its own in spite of the sweat that made his clothes cling to him. The lighting was dull, dimmed by the thunder clouds that swallowed up all that was left of the midday sun.

"I don't-" Darius started, swaying with disorientation as he sat forward and everything began to sharpen into focus. "I don't know." he confessed. Half formed memory of his outburst trickling into his mind Darius rubbed his hand between Bumpy's shoulder plates.

"I'm sorry." he muttered to her, grateful that her armor had absorbed most of his wrath, even if it meant some bruised and bloodied knuckles for himself. "And, thank you."

"Well, what are yoy waiting for? Get inside." the older boy commanded with tension in his voice.

Teeth grit with agitation Darius willed his aching body into action and forced himself to stand. He didn't go in, not right away. Instead he turned to look out at the vastness that sretched beyond their refuge. Coming in from across the island, and moving fast a dark curtain of rain fell over Isla Nublar. Everything else past his little vantage point was completely and utterly still, devoid of life. Not even the pterosaurs who he had painstakingly observed circling and squabbling in the air above them, all day, every day, would be caught out in such gale.

He turned, brown eyes holding all the sorrows of the world, to look at Kenji hoping against all odds that he had some good news for once.

"No." Kenji shook his head. "Not yet, but I know they'd find somewhere safe to ride it out..."

"I hope so." Darius croaked before trying to moisten cracked lips with his equally dry tongue.

The rain drowned everything out. A constant, and persistent blanket of sound that covered the entire island. In spite of the campers' worry for their missing friends it felt almost peaceful, as the five of them sat in their room listening to the lullaby of Mother Nature. Only, there wasn't really peace to be had. They all knew, in the back of their minds, that this wasn't really the end of all of the horrors they'd had to endure. It was merely an intermission.

Trish, the woman with the little girl, came by with Chase in tow some time after the rains had begun. They were escorted by Payton Napier who gave the campers a sharp cursory glance before pinning her gaze to Darius.

"Darius?" she asked.

Sliding from the bed where he sat the boy stood in a hurry, heart a flutter, he prayed she had some sort of news. "Yeah?" he asked, voice pinched by emotion.

"I think you've had enough down time. Everyone who's able has been helping out. Now its your turn. I'm going to be putting together some food. You're going to help me cart it upstairs. Got it?" she raised an eyebrow as if daring him to defy her.

Shoulders sagging, soul crushed he nodded. "Got it."

After the soldier left the room felt uncomfortably crowded, yet empty. The strangers they'd come to know as standoffish, and aloof guests in their hotel had come for a visit when two of their own were missing. Trish stood awkwardly just inside the doorway between the living room and main bedroom. She had her toddler, Ivy, on her hip, and Chase's wrist held firmly in her other hand. Darius wasn't sure why but he had the distinct impression that none of this, had been her idea, and that she wasn't too happy about it either.

"Just here so the kids can watch tv." the woman murmured without lifting her head.

What, Darius wondered, had she been through. With her hair still in tangled knots, and her chin pinned to her chest, she was, without a doubt, a shell of who she'd have to have been before all of this.

"Yeah, sure." Darius nodded, pointing to the bunk room.

Yanking hard on his arm Trish caught the little boy who she'd been appointed guardianship over by surprise. Tripping over his feet as he was shoved forward Chase caught his balance, if only just, as he walked into the room before the mother and child. Darius' teeth hurt from how tightly he had to squeeze them together to keep from saying something. His friends however, didn't seem to have that problem.

"Fucking bitch!" Yasmina shouted, propping herself up on one elbow so that she could better see what was going on.

"Yeah, here kid sorry about your family let me just manhandle you a bit." Kenji added, doing his best to cross the room in a hurry. "And don't pretend like you're innocent. I heard you yelling at him the other day."

"And he was crying something fierce out on that balcony all night too." Yasmina added to Kenji's argument, stuffing a few pillows behind Ben's back as she started inch her way out of bed to join him.

Darius stood, brow furrowed between what felt like two warring parties. Casting looks of confusion and concern between his friends and the blonde woman he'd seen as nothing but another blameless victim of their harrowing circumstance, he was trying but failing to put the pieces together. What was happening right now?

Making his way to the bunk bed Kenji sat by Chase. Reaching for the remote the teen froze in place when the little boy's eyes fluttered fearfully, and whimpering he flinched. Jaw hard set Kenji stared with hateful accusation at the uninvited guest who approached with her own little girl.

"He's fine." Trish bit out, sitting Ivy at the tiny table with an applesauce pouch, and a few packs of fruit snacks.

"What's going on?" Darius hissed into Yaz's ear as she limped past him.

The girl turned to him without a hint of judgment, only a staying look of empathy as she put a hand on his good shoulder. "You haven't exactly been around the last couple of days." she said giving his shoulder a squeeze. "It's ok. I get it. The cleaning, the observations, the note taking, it helped you. Things haven't been great though."

"Is Chase ok?" Darius, his heart picking up speed asked.

"We don't know. We don't have any facts either, just a pretty damn big hunch." the girl confessed. "Assholes Controlling Unitarially either don't share our concerns or just don't care."

Continuing on her way Yasmina snagged some fruit snacks from the table as she hobbled by to join the boys on the bottom bunk, where she handed the treat to Chase. Trish protested vehemently, but no one spared her a second glance, or even a thought. Fuming the woman snatched Ivy up so quickly the toddler's head whipped about on her neck.

"Hey!" Darius shouted brows shooting up.

Marching to the entrance Trish threw open the broken door and walked right out. The yelling heard from the hall told the campers all they needed to know about who was keeping watch, and what would and would not be permitted. After a few minutes Trish and her daughter reappeared. Head up, for the first time since they'd met Darius got his first good look at the woman. She wasn't scared, or broken, like he'd imagined her to be. She was angry and looking for someone, or something to blame.

She slammed the privacy door sequestering herself away from the children in the living room, leaving the others, hearts hammering, to question why she wasn't allowed to leave if she clearly didn't want to stay. In the uneasy silence that followed Darius couldn't help but wonder what else he'd missed when he'd been too busy pouring everything he had into wishing the others home.

Turning to look over his shoulder at the feverish boy left on his own Darius asked, "You think Ben's gonna be alright?" a cold tang of fear lanced up Darius' spine at the possible meaning behind his words. "Alone. Do you think Ben's going to be alright alone, for a minute. I mean. While we hang with Chase." he stammered trying to get his very specific point across.

"Yeah." Yasmina nodded, though Kenji's expression didn't hold much confidence. "He'll be alright. He's just resting. I got some water in him this morning, so." the girl hesitated. "He'll be ok, for a bit."

It was strange, Darius thought sitting cross-legged on the floor. How comforting a childhood favorite could be, or how quickly it could teleport you back to that time of safety and simplicity even when nothing else around you was safe or right. It was a bad movie, objectively speaking, but Shark Tale had always been one of his go-tos when he was little. He wondered if Mean Girls was that for Brooklynn?

Impossibly, Darius found that he still had tears left as they welled in his eyes. What movie, he thought, would Brooklynn have picked? It was the last thing he'd said to her. Not that she was the most incredible person he'd ever met. Not that whenever she was around, the world falling at their feet, that everything still felt right. Not even that he liked her, like that, and that for all the times they've held hands he just wanted to dare and steal a kiss, but deep down he knew he could never be good enough for someone like her.

Somewhere beneath all of the emptiness that numbed his pain Darius found despair. He was trying to quietly sniffle back the tears when Howe staggered in, ankle clearly still giving him trouble. He took the kids in, with a kind of sadness that lingered first on Yasmina who shrunk into herself at the sight of him, then Darius who pawed at his face with embarrassment, and then on Ben who he'd assisted Katie treat. Clearing his throat he gestured over his shoulder with his thumb.

"Napier says you're to report to the chow hall." he said softly to Darius.

"Um, right, sorry." the boy apologized as he scrambled to his feet.

"Hey, you alright?" Howe asked, stopping Darius as he tried to get by.

"I'm ok." Darius assured him, in what was without a doubt the least convincing lie of his life.

"I can do it if you need a mi-"

"No, I'm good. Promise." Darius said more firmly.

Howe seemed prepared to make another suggestion when Darius, who didn't want any of his fake sympathies, ducked beneath his arm and hurried out into the hall. "You know kid, you don't have to be strong all the time."

Darius turned with a crooked smile to the man who was following him to the elevator. "Says you. You're all: 'Yes, sir. No, sir. Right away, sir. I don't know but I've been told a military man's worth his weight in gold!'" he said in a mocking impression of every military march in every movie he'd ever seen. He was surprised, and even a little startled when he heard a snicker of laughter behind him.

"That's a good one kid." Howe said the corners of his eyes wrinkling. "Just don't go repeating it to anyone else, especially Purdy and Napier, they're lifers. Never wanted out of the service. 'S why they came here, closest thing they could get to it after discharge."

"And you?" Darius grumbled irritably as he stared at the carpet, sure the man's answer would be much the same.

"Me? I never wanted in, but it was better than stayin' at home, getting my ass beat for livin'. So, I joined up not for joinin' up, but for shippin' out." Howe shrugged.

"Sorry." Darius apologized feeling bad for judging the man so quickly. Based on everything he'd been through with the ACU, and how Kenji and Yaz talked about the past few days he'd just assumed they were all like that.

"It is what it is." the soldier said bluntly. "Asset Containment Unit though, that's where I wanted to be as soon as I heard of the job. Dinosaurs man, an honest to God miracle of science. Didn't have the education to work with 'em 'course but I had the training to take 'em out if need be, and it was a once in a lifetime opportunity for someone like me to come to Jurassic World. So, I took the job. Had to be crazy not to."

"You like dinosaurs?" Darius scoffed with disbelief.

"Oh yeah."

Darius turned to gawk back at the man who seemed a little embarrassed to be admitting that he came not out of a desire to kill things, like most of the others, but out of an interest in the same de-extinct creatures that fascinated Darius himself.

"What's your favorite dinosaur?" the boy asked before stammering, "Or was, jeez, I'm sorry."

"It's alright. Don't laugh." Howe grinned.

"Never!"

"Pachycephalosaurus." the man chuckled.

He wasn't sure if it was the expectation of a funny answer after being told not to laugh, or the look Howe gave as the light bounced off his freshly shaved head, or a combination of the two, but Darius burst out laughing. Doubling over in stitches, he had a good hard, senseless laugh. The soldier chuckling right along with him.

"Dunno why niether, there's just somethin' about those great big bone heads, reminds me of myself when I was younger." the man expanded on his answer. "What about you, do you have a favorite?" he asked when the frivolity had died down.

Darrius' smile wavered, and his stomach knotted, heart racing at the very idea of the creatures. He knew his answer should probably be different now from what it was before, but it wasn't.

"Velociraptors." he winced.

Howe gave a tight lipped nod in response. The two were quiet after that while they waited for the elevator. Darius wondered if he'd touched a nerve, mentioning the raptors. It would have been like bringing up pterosaurs and expecting Darius not to think of what happened to Ben.

"Your friend, the uh, one with the head injury-"

"Ben?"

"Ben, he doin' alright." Howe asked as the elevator arrived.

"As alright as he can be." Darius muttered after giving it some thought.

Another nod, "Good, that's good."

"Do you," Darius started, using his hand to keep the doors from closing him in. "Do you think the others are alright?" he asked, voice cracking.

Howe pressed his lips together deep in thought, finally answering, "As alright as they can be."

It was a statement that was both chilling, and strangely comforting. If they had their wots about them, and stuck together, after everything they'd already survived Darius was sure they'd be alright. With a half smile he let the doors slide shut.

The ride down to the kitchen was quiet, and lonely, but it also gave Darius time to think.

How much had he missed since the supply team's absence? How could he have gone without noticing something was wrong only two rooms down from theirs? Given how Yaz and Kenji were acting, it had to have been really bad. Had he really been so caught up with worry, and cleaning, and charting down everything he'd seen in the hopes of spotting potential dangers he could warn them about whenever they radioed back in, that everything else had gone completely without notice?

How could he have done that to them? Wasn't the whole point of staying behind to take care of the others because they were too hurt to take care of themselves?

Standing there long after the doors had opened the boy felt his heart hanging by a thread. He needed to do better, be better, for them, all of them, and he was going to start right now.

In the kitchen Napier had several service carts loaded with bowls of food, each of which looked carefully proportioned. Sitting with a serving of her own what looked like boiled tuber, and spinach stew, she was taking meticulous notes of what food she'd used, and what was left.

"Anyone complains, they don't eat." the woman said without looking up from her work.

Darius only nodded, taking careful count of the plates on the cart labeled "608," she hadn't made one for Ben, he noticed, and there wasn't anything for Bumpy either. Counting 604's he came to the decision that he was moving one of the smaller portioned bowls, Chase's bowl, over to their cart as soon as he was out of her line of sight. Counting everything up, things appeared to be in order when, his brows knit together with confusion. There was a cart missing.

"What about the guy in 611? You didn't make anything for him." Darius said, trying and failing to remember the man's name.

"Hmm?"

"611, you forgot him."

"I didn't forget, he's just not going to need it." Napier commented nonchalantly.

"Why, he break a rule or something?" Darius questioned, finding himself unable to keep the venom from him tone.

"No, let's just say some of us are survivors, and the rest are just quitters." she smiled in a feline manner. "And he quit."

"Quit?"

"Yeah, but if you're so worried you can go cut him down yourself. I sure wasn't about to waste the time or energy on someone without the backbone to see it through." she explained, the coldness of her tone mingled with Darius' realization of what she was saying and sent a shiver down his spine.

There it was, the part Kenji and Yasmina had been talking about, the apathy, and indifference the soldiers seemed to command themselves with.

Darius gaped at the woman who didn't seem to notice how her callous nature had affected him. Trying hard not to lean to heavily on any of them, Darius knew that he had to rely on himself, because if he slipped up he'd become one of Napier's footnotes, or Reed's fucked up bedtime stories.

Quietly the boy looped his hands around the first cart, walked it through the lobby and to the elevator. With a brisk knock he deposited it just outside of 605 the "Command Center." Then he fetched another, and another, careful to keep his head down so that the woman who was giving him his marching orders couldn't see the resentment in his eyes. Each time he stepped onto the sixth floor, however, he couldn't help but look towards the doors at the end of the hall, knowing that behind one of them hung a man who had been left hurting and alone with his fear, until it had killed him.

The worst part was that Darius didn't even know his name...

Startling him out of his thoughts one of Darius' last deliveries was met at the door. Pete, the man who had earned a hard lockdown for everyone without the firepower to argue otherwise had been waiting for him, eye darkening the peephole. The door opened to reveal an average looking guy with a warm golden brown complexion, thick black hair pulled into a short ponytail, and a wide range of bruises across his face. Darius who was surprised by the man's state couldn't help but stare.

"Uh, hi." Darius smiled, unsure of himself.

"Hey." Pete said, taking the opportunity to peer up and down the hall.

"Here's your dinner." Darius announced, taking a half step back.

"Mahalo." Pete nodded.

"Um, you're welcome?"

Pete let out a little smile, "Yeah, thanks. How, uh, how everythin' goin' out dere?"

Darius shrugged, "Everything going fine, I guess. The supply party isn't back yet. The ACU are running a tight ship, but, nothing major has happened."

The man nodded. He seemed lonely, but otherwise nice enough. Darius wondered if he was alright, by himself, and what exactly he'd done to earn those bruises, in the first place. Somewhere, in the back of his head Darius found himself wondering if what Pete had done was even so bad, or if they'd just used it as an excuse. They, the civilians, would have followed the ACU, trusting in their experience, their training, their munitions. Why'd they have to crack down with martial law?

"Le's hope it stay dat way, eh? You be careful tho', those people, ino." Pete shook his head. "Take care yourself, eh?"

"Yeah, I will." the boy nodded, the question of what had happened tearing him up inside, until, as Pete wheeled the cart in he blurted it out. "What'd you do, anyways?"

Pete stopped and gave an apologetic smile. "Hadn't eaten in days, they say the kitchens were kapu, but I jus' needed some grindz." he shrugged. "Dat's it brah."

"You, went downstairs, for a snack?" Darius asked the question, slowly, and out loud as he struggled to wrap his own head around it.

"Dat's it. Ino, right?" Pete asked as he closed the door.

Troubled by this revelation, given orders to bring the carts back in an hour, and much else weighing on his mind Darius solemnly brought up the last few trolleys of food. Readjusting a hastily stashed trash bag of tuber peels and watermelon rinds on the bottom of 608's cart with his foot, he'd nearly forgotten to swap Chase's meal until it was almost too late. Trying to be subtle he walked back to where he'd left the bowl just a few rooms away.

"Darius?" Howe asked from where he sat keeping watch in the middle of the hall.

"Oh," Darius smiled sheepishly. "Hey. Forgot this one, goes here."

"Does it?" the man asked, his own bowl in hand as he achingly walked over. "You tryin' to pull a fast one?"

"No, sir." the teen was quick to defend himself.

"'Sir,' huh?"

"It's just, I thought, Chase- er, the kid in the Paw Patrol shirt, I thought he could eat with us." Darius murmured, his heart sinking, knowing that he'd been caught.

"That's not how bunk assignments were laid out." the man said plainly. "Trish was assigned to watch over him. Besides you've already got your friends to watch out for." he explained with an earnest tone.

"She's mean to him."

This seemed to give the man a pause, trouble written across his face, "I know, but it's better-"

"It's better? Better that he gets his ass beat just for living." Darius snapped, using the man's own words against him.

There was a brief standoff, before with a sigh, the soldier seemed to relent. "That's all Napier gave 'im?" he motioned to the scant serving. Without waiting for a response Howe tipped his own bowl into Chase's. "Kids too skinny, besides, I can't stand cooked carrots. If anyone asks, or gives you guff, you tell 'em it was my idea."

"I will, thank you Howe." Darius smiled.

"Just call me Matt." he instructed, already heading back to his post.

Trish seemed almost relieved as she left, and the campers couldn't have agreed more. Settling down the group ate what wasn't a half bad meal. Saving some of the fork tender veggies in a paper cup they set it in the mini-fridge to mash up and offer Ben the next time he was up. With Bumpy bellowing excitedly as she hunted for treasures among the garbage, a familiar show to watch, and a rare giggle from Chase, Darius felt a little better knowing that he was taking care of his friends like he should be.

The hour went by quickly, but with Kenji's help he gathered all of their dirty dishes, and then Darius headed back out. A slender man wearing a Jurassic World employee's polo was doing the dishes when Darius arrived back into the kitchen. The task was monotonous, and repetitive. Grab a cart, return it, grab a cart, return it. It was enough to allow the boy's mind to wonder, wonder back home, wonder to his missing friends, wonder to the possibility of ever getting off this island.

It was the peculiarity of two bowls standing untouched outside the Command Center, that pulled him from his thoughts. Tentatively he gave another knock at the door. When no one answered Darius, swallowing hard past a sudden bout of nerves, entered the room. The living room seemed much the same as it had been when he'd been there three days ago. Strewn with everything they had, tablet and radio still on the table, rifles propped against the wall.

"Hello?" he called meekly. "Sergeant Purdy? Is everything alright?"

Hairs raising on the nape of his neck it was the sound of someone crying that drew him towards the bedroom. Anxiously he edged forward until the whole, terrible scene came into view. Darius fell against the doorframe and his world was rocked once again.

Choking back tears the Sergeant's gaze flickered fearfully to the boy, "I had to." he sobbed from where he sat on the floor, rocking ever so slightly. "I had to do it. He couldn't wait for the medicine any longer. He was in pain. It wasn't right. There was no other way. I had to. I had to do it. I had to."

Blood running cold in his veins Darius just stared at the body of Lawrence, his face still covered by the pillow used to kill him. He'd killed him, Darius thought with disjointed clarity, he was his friend, and he killed him. Shaking, Darius stumbled backwards, tripping over obstacles he didn't think to look for, as Purdy continued to recite his justifications. Lurching away, when a paper white Matthew Howe helped him to his feet, all Darius could think was, "Not my friends!"

Staggering out into the hallway, crying, air wheezing through a constricted thoat Darius couldn't maintain his footing. The carpet bit hard into his forearms, and scraped his chin, as he fell, tears blinding him.

He couldn't breathe.

Not my friends.

Not my friends.

The world spun and whirled around him, making it impossible for him to rise.

Falling through the door Darius crawled in on hands and knees.

He couldn't breathe.

His head was spinning.

Purdy was going to kill his friends.

He let out a loud, ragged, scream.

Yasmina and Kenji were at his side in an instant, closing the door, as if it would do them any good.

"Darius? Darius, what's going on?" Yaz asked, touching him, just too much, touching him. She stroked his forehead, turned him to look at her, tried to pull him close.

It was too much.

He couldn't breathe.

His cheat hurt.

She was touching him too much.

She was crowding him, taking all his air, and he couldn't even find the words to say so.

He was dying.

All he could do was manage a sob.

"Come on man, you're scaring the kid." Kenji smiled nervously.

"Can't breathe." Darius gasped out, clutching the front of his shirt. "Not safe. Not safe. Happening, again. Dying." he cried his thoughts tangled in a incoherent web of mortal terror.

"Again?" Kenji asked as Yasmina asserted, "You're not dying, it's a panic attack."

What she was saying didn't make any sense. Fear couldn't hurt this bad. Darius was having a heart attack, he knew it.

"Breathe like me." Yaz instructed, putting his hand on her chest so that he could feel the long steady breaths she was taking.

All he could feel was the pounding of her heart.

"He killed 'em." Darius cried. "He was his friend, and he killed him."

"Who?"

He was dying.

"Who?"

He couldn't breathe.

It was all his fault.

Maybe if he'd checked on them earlier.

He should have.

He should have.

He was dying.

Dying.

They were all going to die here.

They were all going to die.

Kenji took his other hand. "It's ok, we're right here." he said from far away. "We're all right here."

They weren't.

They weren't all there.

They were all going to die.

Purdy was going to kill his friends.

Dying.

Dying.

They were all slowly dying...