It's been a year since the gang returned from Isla Nublar. You're not sure why you started writing Ben. You could just call him, or better yet, text-- but you don't. "I dreamt about you last night
(Nothing amorous, if that's where your teenage mind...
He's so much more beautiful than you remember. Ben stands here—in the flesh—his golden brown hair pushed up in that messy runway model style. The dark gray of his wool coat matches the storm in his eyes. His cheeks are flushed bright pink, and puffs of cold air show that he's breathing hard. And you're surprised to realize he's mad. At you!
"We need to talk," he says, his tone full of anger and hurt.
The realization triggers something in you. The awed shock of seeing him dissipates, replaced by your own rush of emotions, your own righteous indignation!
"Wait a second, let me get this straight, Ben. You're gone —totally MIA for five months without a word, and YOU'RE mad at ME?"
For the first time in almost a year something other than melancholy and worry feeds through your blood. You let him have the full force of your emotions: "Do you know how we've worried about you? How much I've worried about you? Coming back, we needed each other more than ever, and you just... disappeared."
His arms are crossed in front of him, his coat sleeves bunching from the strain, but you see you've scored a point. He looks down.
"You're not wrong. I can admit that. You have every right to be hurt."
You want to close the gap between you, to put a hand on his arm. To give him a hug, but you need to hear what he has to say.
"Think how I feel though. You send me love letters every day for months, and I come to find you and you're about to kiss some other guy?"
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//
"In two minutes," he cried, "the ship will be blown to pieces."
But Peter issued from the powder magazine with the shell in his hands,
and calmly flung it overboard.
//
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"Um... letters? You got my letters?" All the blood rushes from your face, and you feel the need to latch on to something for stability, but there is nothing.
"Yeah. All 102 of them "
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//
Seeing Peter slowly advancing upon him through the air with dagger poised, he sprang upon the bulwarks to cast himself into the sea. He did not know that the crocodile was waiting for him; for we purposely stopped the clock that this knowledge might be spared him: a little mark of respect from us at the end.
//
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Your legs give out and Ben catches you before you can sink completely to the ground. "Yaz! Yaz! Are you ok?"
When you don't answer, he scoops you up and carries you, not caring about the curious stares of onlookers.
