by Sithkitten
sithkitten@yahoo.com
Title: Up A Tree
Author: Sithkitten (sithkitten@yahoo.com)
Rating: R (for language)
Summary: does it need one?/ it's a missing scene...
Archive: sure, if you want it- just let me know URL
Billy scrambled up the tree with single-minded intensity. Ahead of
him, he heard muffled grunts, curses, and occasional whimpers as the
Kirbys struggled up the tree. Bitterly, he wondered if this was
enough to satisfy their parental urge to locate their son- three
people dead, one missing- he's not dead, Alan's not dead -and no
hope of getting off this godforsaken island anytime in the forseeable
future.
"Billy? Have you seen Dr. Grant?"
Temper, patience, and self-restraint snapped, all in the same
instant. "No," he snarled. Kirby blinked and backed away, a bit
further out on the branch he and Amanda had chosen. "No, I haven't
seen Alan. And you know what? I hold you responsible. You, and your
wife that isn't your wife, and your lousy check that isn't worth the
price of the paper it was printed on." He advanced towards Kirby,
climbing effortlessly up to the branch the man shared with Amanda.
Both Kirbys clung together and edged away, eyes wide. "If it hadn't
been for you, Alan would never have come to this island. He would be
safe, at the dig, looking at goddamn stars and discussing goddamn
theories. He wouldn't be out here in this dinosaur infested hellhole
with killer raptors stalking him. Now you just shut up about Alan,
and leave me alone."
Billy had them backed out onto the farthest part of the limb that
would support their weight, now, and was almost mad enough to push
them a bit farther and watch them fall. Some of that must have
communicated itself to Paul Kirby, who extended a hand, with a
panicked look.
"Whoa, now, Billy- take it easy!" Behind him, Amanda clung to his arm
with wide eyes. "We just wanted-"
"Yeah, yeah, spare me the details. You just wanted to find your son.
Now leave me the fuck alone."
Billy turned abruptly, sure-footed as a cat in the tree, and made his
way up several more branches. His conscience wouldn't allow him to
get too far away- after all, assholes or not, the Kirbys were fellow
humans- but he really didn't want to be near them at the moment. He
found a spot and settled down with his back against the tree trunk,
ready for a long and sleepless night.
Alan was alive. Alan had to be alive. He refused to admit that
there was any other possibility. Part of him acknowledged that this
belief was nearly as irrational as Amanda's belief that her son had
survived, alone and unaided in this tropical hell. But the rest of
him clung to the fact that Alan had faced these beasts before and
survived.
He's alive, whispered his mind. And he has the eggs.
Guilt gnawed at him. He'd seen Alan stop and grab that damn pack- not
so lucky anymore, nosiree. And he was mortally certain the raptors
had enough intelligence to catch the transfer of the pack from one
human to the other. So Alan was out there, alone, and he had the
eggs. With the pack of raptors on his trail...
Knock it off, kid, he thought, ignoring the twinge he felt. Kid
had always been Alan's nickname for him. He's also got enough sense
to climb a tree, just like you did. And raptors aren't built for tree
climbing.
But that was cold comfort, when he was confronted with the knowledge
that Alan had gotten separated from the group while trying to save
something he saw as important to Billy.
He could hear the Kirbys below, talking quietly. Idly, he wondered
what they were talking about- probably Eric. Talk about obsessive.
Sure, they had reason, but-
Memory grabbed him by the throat and shook him.
***Firelight flickered in the blackness. The smoke tickled at the
back of his nose, a familiar scent. The cold burrowed down into his
bones, but it was welcome... oh, so welcome. Because it was providing
Alan with enough incentive to hold him close, to snuggle under the
blanket and talk like he never had before...
"I get a little... overprotective, I guess you could say. Obsessive."
He wondered what was wrong with that. Huh. Dr. Sattler sure must be a
weird person, if she couldn't handle having all of Alan's attention
focused on her, on keeping her safe and there with him...***
Billy bit back, hard, on a moan. Alan was alive, dammit! Alan was
alive, and he was just fucking fine. And he would show up in the
morning, smiling and cheerful and ready to get the hell to the coast.
Because Alan Grant wasn't the type of man to let some damn dinosaurs
take him down.
Billy stood up, moved a bit farther away from the Kirbys. Even though
he could forgive them their obsessive worry for their son, he was
still mad at them. He peered through the gathering dusk, straining
for any sight of his lover.
"Alan," he called, knowing it was futile. "Alan!"
But there was no answer.
