The Lost Dinosaur |2| Nublar Seven Series

Repercussions

This follows my previous Camp Cretaceous fix-it fic, where the campers escaped Nublar after the events of season 3. There was no Mantah Corp island, seasons 4 and 5 never happened and Mr. Kon is not a bad guy. But this means all the dinosaurs remain on the island, including Bumpy.

This is a canon fix type of story. I love FK, but there are many flaws that I'll try to work around. The main plot line remains the same from the movie, but the 'how' changes. Hopefully, this will be somewhat decent, but that's for you to judge.

This is the second part of a series. Please read the previous fic first, as this will also follow my OC, Hayden Simmons, as well as a few other campers. So, the POV will shift around sometimes.

I wrote all of this before Chaos Theory came out. Many of what I wrote clashes with CT, but I stand by all of it, and I'll try to pick up the pieces with CT, because now my canon has become its own thing for me. Honestly, I think there's much to improve on CT (by improve I mean add more blood hehe), I'll try to do that, but that's a story for another time.

TW: I won't be putting TWs in every chapter, only in those with heavier stuff. This is an action-oriented story, expect injuries, blood, a bit of gore and emotional hurt. I tried to keep the Fallen Kingdom sorta horror vibe. This story has a much faster pace than Assets and I chose to keep it that way (so smaller word count), and like Assets, romance is not the main plot, but it's there.

Like last time, I already have everything written out, so in no way I'll be leaving you hanging. I'm trying to keep my chapters short in this one, I'll aim for 3k - 4k words, pretty much half of my usual wordcount. 

I'm talking too much. Go read! I hope you like it xD

Hayden

I liked these sessions so much it made my hands hurt. The office was really basic, warm colors should be soothing, but I didn't believe in that shit. There were two couches, not really facing each other, but at a slight angle. Nearest to my couch, a side table had Kleenex wipes if I needed, which was never the case, not in front of a therapist.

Speaking of her, she was in her 40s, looking at me expectantly.

"It's been a while since we last spoke." Mrs. Brown spoke with a gentle tone, as always.

"My bad." I shrunk, guilty for canceling at the last minute.

"It happens." She offered me a smile. "So, have you had any episodes since we last saw each other?"

Episodes... a fancy way of saying flashbacks. I had them at random, part of the PTSD diagnosis. They were always about Hawkes. The feeling of being choked... the pain... his laughter... usually lasted a few seconds like a flash before my eyes, but sometimes it lasted longer like I was trapped back at that moment.

I groaned, remembering the flashback that made me late to class yesterday. "I don't want to talk about it."

"No worries, we don't need to. So, what about the dream journal, have you been keeping it?"

Again, I shrunk, averting my gaze. It's not that I hadn't, well I hadn't, but it was because the nightmares were generally the same. Writing about it wasn't going to help. I was busy, college, Camp Fam, friends... I was on my exams week and managed to make time for therapy, that was a win already.

Mrs. Brown saw right through me with her expression, understanding but slightly disappointing. It really made me want to look away.

"How are the nightmares?" She went on.