Claire can feel her mouth moving and she knows words are clumsily spilling out into the crisp night air, but she can't quite piece together what she's saying. She's speaking with a police officer who obviously doesn't understand the gravity of the situation because his face is completely neutral. Claire knows she told him about the very dangerous dinosaurs on the loose, but he seems to be taking it as a typical Tuesday night. A part of her wants to jump up and down and scream like a lunatic because there are dinosaurs on the loose but she feels the pull of the injury in her leg and decides against it.

To be quite honest, Claire has no idea how she's even still standing. Despite the gruesome wound in her leg, she's continued to move forward. It's adrenaline, she knows, and she's not sure when it will wear off. Maybe when her heart stops beating a million miles an hour. Maybe when she feels like she's not walking in a dream.

But it ends up washing away the moment Owen puts a calming hand on her shoulder. She relaxes and the pain becomes so great she wavers and he ends up having to use two strong hands to steady her against him. Owen spares a worried look at her before he turns to the police officer.

"Are we done here?" Owen asks in a gruff voice that's intended to show the officer finality. That they are, in fact, 'done here.'

"I have a few more questions," the police officer replies.

"Then ask me 'cause she's done." Owen's grasp on her shoulders becomes tighter. "In case you haven't noticed, she got stabbed by a genetically modified raptor tonight. You guys got an ambulance coming?"

The officer seems startled, as though he had no idea dinosaurs had ever been recreated. "Uh, no."

"Go call one." Owen's voice is cool, but Claire knows the officer won't dare go against him. Before she can really see the other man's face, Owen turns her back towards the grand staircase that leads into the cursed mansion.

"We'll be out soon," he tells her as he pushes her down to sit next to Maisie, who looks both exhausted and wide-eyed as she tightens her blanket around her. Claire nods to Owen, but her gaze is fixed on the girl. She's shivering and her eyelids are fighting against gravity and exhaustion, but she wills herself to stay awake. Claire has never felt motherly, but at that moment, she scoots closer to Maisie and wraps an arm around her shoulder. The girl flinches, but only briefly, and then leans herself against Claire.

It's only a minute or two before Maisie slacks against Claire and she knows the girl has fallen asleep. After that, Claire isn't sure how time passes or if she herself ended up dozing off. All she knows is that, at some point, she looks up to find Owen directly in front of her, bouncing on his crouched legs.

"You okay?" he asks and Claire finds herself nodding, but she's not sure she's being truthful. "And Maisie?" Owen's eyes move over to the sleeping child pressed against Claire.

"Asleep," Claire replies, finding her voice more hoarse than she expected.

"Ambulance is here." Owen stands and for the first time, Claire notices a white and red truck and the paramedic standing next to it.

"I'm not going to the hospital," Claire tells him more fiercely than she had intended. Owen looks a little startled and then appears as though he's going to argue, but decides against it.

"At least let him check you out."

"And Maisie," Claire adds, though she knows there's nothing wrong with the kid except for exhaustion and certain nightmares.

"And Maisie," Owen repeats and then walks away to flag down the man standing by the truck. It seems to Claire that she's only blinked before the paramedic is kneeling next to her, examining the wound on her leg. Owen is talking to her as the leg is disinfected and wrapped in bandages, but she barely registers his words. When appropriate, she nods or shakes her head, but otherwise, her eyes are glassy and she makes no noise.

Once the bandage is secured around her leg, the paramedic gives Maisie a checkup and confirms what Claire already knows; she's tired and a little cold from the rain, but nothing else is wrong.

What feels like a moment later, Claire feels the weight lift from her side and she looks up to see Owen with Maisie in his arms. She watches as he walks to an old station wagon and carefully balances her in one arm as he opens the door to the backseat with the other. After laying her down, he walks back to the stairs and places a hand on Claire's back.

"Can you walk?" he asks as he helps her to stand. Claire avoids putting weight on the injured leg, but nods. She can hobble to the car.

"Where did you find that?"

"Garage," Owen replies as they walk towards it. "It was the only one I could find the keys for. Sorry I couldn't grab the sports car." A puff of a laugh escapes his lips and Claire finds herself smiling faintly. It feels like years since she's heard joy in his voice. The night they'd just had seemed to last a decade.

He opens the passenger door for her and she slides in. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she sees Maisie still fast asleep, though clutching the blanket tighter than before. Claire can't wait to get to sleep, but at the same time she feels tired, she's also restless. Like she knows sleep won't come easy.

They're a few miles down the road before Claire asks, "Where are we going?"

"Hotel," Owen replies. "We need sleep."

"But what about-" Before Claire can finish, Owen puts a hand up. He suddenly looks exhausted for the first time.

"We'll worry about it tomorrow." Claire knows he right. She knows they need sleep first before they can figure out what to do next. If they don't get sleep, she'll drop. But there's still so much to be said and done. Dinosaurs are on the loose. Off the island. In America. They escaped within five miles of a town. She knows she's going to wake to startling news reports and a completely changed world.

Once again, Claire isn't sure if she's dozed off or just blinked, but soon the car is pulling into a spot at a roadside motel. "Wait here," Owen said as he steps out of the car and walks to the end of the row of rooms where the front desk is. Claire watches him through half-lidded eyes as he talks with the man at the counter, gestures towards the car a few times, and exchanges a debit card for a swipe key. He comes out, moves the car over to one of the rooms in the middle of the block, and parks.

Once the car is stopped, Claire doesn't know how she'll be able to make it to the hotel room door, but Owen has Maisie in his arms so she has to figure something out. With all of her strength, she lifts herself out and hobbles to the sidewalk, keeping a steadying hand on the car for as long as she can. Within a minute she's walking into a dusty, too-cold room with two beds and a television from the last century. Owen is already tucking Maisie into bed by the time Claire braces herself against the entryway. She watches as he pulls the musty covers back and folds the blankets around Maisie as tightly as he can.

"You're good at this," Claire says, her voice making Owen jump a little. He glances at her with a sheepish smile and rubs the back of his neck with his hand.

"Good at what?" he asks as if he doesn't already know. Claire gives him a look. "It's the right thing to do. Where else is she gonna go?"

This makes Claire's face fall and she limps to the unoccupied bed. "What are we going to do with her?" she asks, taking a seat so she can watch as Maisie sleeps soundly.

"We'll figure it out tomorrow," Owen replies. "We have her now and she's safe. That's all we can do for now."

"She has no one."

"She has us."

Claire looks up at Owen, surprised by the harsh tone in his voice. Before she can say anything about it, though, Owen says, "You need sleep."

"You need sleep too," Claire counters. She knows that tone. He wants her to sleep and he'll stay up.

"I'll get there."

"Then I will too."

"Jesus, Claire, you look like you're about to pass out." Owen comes over and sits down on the bed next to her. "Get some rest, I have to take care of a few things."

"I thought you said we'd wait until morning."

"I need to do this real quick. Now go to sleep." He pulls back the covers and gently nudges Claire. She hesitates, thinks about fighting him, but the last of her spitfire attitude was already washed away. So, she lays down, and the moment her head hits the pillow, she's asleep. Owen has to remove her shoes and move her legs under the covers.

It feels like it's only a few moments, but a few hours later, sunlight pokes at Claire and she finds herself waking up, her consciousness piecing together the events of the night before. She feels something against her and looks down to find Maisie. She must have crawled into bed with her and Owen at some point in the night, but Claire never noticed. The girl is still fast asleep, but she's hanging on a little less tight and looks a lot less pained.

Careful not to wake her, Claire shifts and sits up. She throws the blankets off her leg and examines the bandage. Some red pokes through, but it doesn't look nearly as bad as it did in the pale spotlight outside the dark mansion in the rain.

"Mornin'," Owen's voice startles her. He's sitting at an old wooden table, watching the television with the volume on mute and the subtitles on. Cartoons, she notes. He doesn't have the news on.

"Good morning," She responds. She gently pulls Maisie off of her and gets out of the bed. The girl doesn't stir. Claire limps over to sit across from Owen. "Did you sleep?"

"Well?" he asks.

"At all."

He stares at her for a moment. "Yes, I did." She believes him.

"What did you need to work on so badly?" Her curiosity is great and she needs something, anything, to keep the major issues at bay for a little while longer.

Owen pulls out a folder and shows Claire what looks to be a blueprint. "What's this?" She asks, gazing at the paper.

"My cabin."

Claire shoots him a confused look. She's seen his cabin. It looks nothing like the sketch on the paper. "This is too big."

Owen points to the edge of the paper and Claire can see where eraser marks were traced over. "That's the addition."

"I thought you said you only wanted to make things just big enough. Not too big, not too small."

"I did. And I do."

"Then why add an addition?"

Owen smiles at her, a brilliant smile that lights up the dull hotel room and Claire's dark world. She can't help but smile back, even though she has no idea what he's so happy about.

"For you. For Maisie. For us"

"For us?" Claire repeats, feeling her breath stop for just a moment.

"If you'll have me."

"I will," Claire whispers. Owen leans across the table and kisses her for as long and deep as the table separating them will allow. When he pulls away, he sees Claire's eyes shining with unshed tears. She's happy, the happiest she's been in what feels like an eternity.

"You won't go?" Claire asks.

"You won't ask me to?"

"No," she smiles, reaching over to grasp his hand in hers. "I really like it. The addition. I love it."

It's then that Maisie makes it known she's awake. "I'm hungry," she declares, looking between the two adults.

Owen beams as he looks back at Maisie and says, "I love it too."