Chapter Text
Alan woke up with a warm body beneath him, soft and firm, providing him with comfort and peace.
Something he hadn't felt in a while, at least not upon waking up.
Yes, he woke up calmly, very rarely, but calmly, never with that peace that filled him with tranquility as it did at that moment.
He blinked to determine what was happening.
It took him only a few seconds to realize that he was not alone in his bed in Montana, but in Ian's apartment, Ian's horrible bachelor apartment.
It took him another two seconds to realize that he himself was lying on top of the man, his head on the older man's bare chest.
Ian was the warm body beneath him, providing comfort and peace.
Alan blinked as he realized this.
Normally, skin-to-skin contact would have made him uncomfortable, even repulsed him; he had never tolerated such closeness with anyone, sometimes not even his parents.
But now... he felt none of that.
He didn't feel that tingling anxiety or the urge to pull away.
Just warmth, security, and a strange calm that disarmed him.
He should be uncomfortable, angry with himself; after all, this was a man he was just getting to know.
But he wasn't, he wasn't angry with himself, he couldn't think of being angry because Ian didn't convey any of that to him, despite his jokes and everything he used to do or say.
He just didn't feel unsafe with him, he didn't feel uncomfortable, not even then.
When the thought settled, he allowed himself to close his eyes and absorb the sensation, promising himself he would think about it later, when he was more awake, or perhaps when he was at home and after enjoying the weekend.
The touch of a hand on his hair made him tense.
Ian combed his hair slowly, almost as if he were enjoying the action. Although it also felt like he was calming Alan down, something he didn't need, not really, not with Ian there.
Alan thought about getting up to tell the man he was fine, but Ian's arm pulled him closer.
“Stay a little longer. Just a moment more... I just want to stop thinking about everything else, for a few minutes, please,” Ian whispered in a low voice, hoarse with sleep.
Alan was silent for a few seconds, not really answering, there was no need.
He simply leaned back against the man once more, closed his eyes, and surrendered to the rhythm of his breathing and the heartbeat against his ear.
It was strange, yes. But also so natural that he found it hard to accept.
The minutes passed, with Ian still carefully combing his hair, running his fingers through the strands as if he wanted to detangle his hair or as if he wanted to feel every detail of its texture.
It was relaxing.
And intimate.
Alan felt a little uncomfortable about it, because although he knew that Ian enjoyed the feeling as much as he did, he also knew that it wasn't normal for two men to feel such closeness, much less in moments like this, only a few months after meeting.
This was the kind of trust that only came with years of knowing each other.
Alan's thoughts were interrupted by an audible sigh from the other man.
“I think it's time to get up, Dr. Grant.”
Alan snorted, but made no move to get up from Ian, which earned him a small laugh from the man.
“You'll be late for your breakfast date,” Alan grumbled, unhappy at the thought.
“I regret it, I don't want to go, I'll say I'm sick,” an even louder laugh was heard.
“Come on, it's no more dangerous than facing a dinosaur,” Alan snorted, but he didn't deny it.
He finally accepted his fate when Ian stopped the movement of his hand, simply got up and looked at the man with a sour face, really not wanting to do this.
“You can go first, something tells me it takes you longer to get ready,” which earned him another laugh from the man, but he saw in his eyes the mixture of fear and resignation.
Right, shower, rain, and everything else.
An idea formed in his head, a very bad one that he shouldn't even consider, but here he was, gathering the courage to ask Ian.
“Do you want me to accompany you?” Ian's sly smile was immediate, as was Alan's regret.
“If you wanted to see me naked, you only had to ask, Dr. Grant,” Alan rolled his eyes.
“I'd be blindfolded, Ian,” the man gave him one of those toothy smiles and his eyes sparkled mischievously.
“Are we playing games now? I must admit, this isn't my kind of fetish,” Alan looked at him with all the seriousness he could muster.
“Don't worry then, I won't accompany you,” the man's smile disappeared before a smaller one reappeared, the plea shining in his eyes.
“I'm always open to new experiences. There's no need to be so terminological, Dr. Grant, there's a scarf behind the door.”
Alan rolled his eyes and walked over to pick up the red garment.
At least there was some variety in the color, he thought.
Once he walked to the bathroom door, he covered his eyes with the scarf, trusting Ian to do the rest.
And so it was. Ian took him by the arm, guiding him into the bathroom and helping him sit on the toilet seat.
The hands disappeared as soon as they made sure Alan was okay.
A few seconds later, the water began to run, but the most striking thing was Ian's trembling voice that filled the silence.
“How's the weather in Montana?” Alan knew Ian wanted a distraction, so he answered without hesitation.
“It's... almost perfect. I won't lie, I like autumn, but winter is by far my favorite. You should see the sunsets or sunrises, they're... beautiful.” Alan heard the shampoo bottle being used.
“I know, winter has something magical about it, even when it's when I have all my kids together. They're my greatest joy, but they're a danger together, although I must admit that fall almost beats it. Mom's apple pies are to die for,” Ian confessed in a slightly trembling voice, but more confident than when he asked Ian about the weather.
Alan laughed, determined to keep the conversation going and distract the man.
“You really have a sweet tooth, don't you?” The older man made a noise that sounded vaguely indignant.
“You would too if you'd tried Mom's pie, or any pie for that matter. It's decided, your next dessert will be chocolate cake,” Alan rolled his eyes but smiled amusedly.
“I think you're just a big kid.”
“Big kids don't do everything I do, but yes, maybe a little, and I repeat that I think that would happen to you if you also knew what Mom's cake tastes like,” Alan sighed before shrugging.
“We'll never know,” Ian snorted.
“Of course we will. One day I'll take you to her so she can bake you a cake and you can have the sweet tooth that I have,” Alan sighed before shaking his head, knowing that once an idea got into Ian's head, nothing would get it out.
He would agree, even though there was no reason not to make the man fight a little before that.
“There's no need, Ian, I don't like sweets.”
“You won't know if you don't like them until you try them.”
“I don't doubt it, but there's no need to bother your mother just to prove a point,” Alan could almost hear the way Ian rolled his eyes.
He smiled a little.
“Don't roll your eyes, idiot.”
“How did you know I did that?” Alan rolled his own eyes and smiled resignedly.
“Unfortunately for me, I've spent enough time with you to know.”
“Unfortunately? Come on, Dr. Grant, we both know you love me.”
“I wouldn't go that far. I tolerate you, at best.”
Ian's laughter filled the space, and only then did Alan realize that he had accomplished his purpose.
A few seconds later, the water stopped, and Alan heard Ian move, probably wrapping himself in the towel.
Shortly after, warm hands gently held his face, startling him a little, but making him relax when he realized it was only Ian.
Then the hands began to untie the scarf.
When the scarf was out of his eyes and they adjusted to the light, the first thing Alan saw was the way Ian looked at him with sincere gratitude and a slightly shy smile.
“Thank you,” the man murmured softly.
Alan smiled, waiting for him to leave to take a shower.
As soon as Ian was gone, Alan began to undress and then got into the shower, where he took a quick bath, pausing only for a second to realize that he was going to smell like Ian all day.
The thought didn't bother him, but it did make him feel a little out of his comfort zone.
Deciding to leave that for later, he continued with his bath, doing it quickly and quietly.
It only took him a couple of minutes to finish, and when he came out of the bathroom into the bedroom, preparing to defend himself against the jokes Ian would surely make, he found that the man was no longer there.
A little more relaxed, he began to get dressed calmly and with a little peace of mind.
It felt like another one of those ordinary Sunday mornings in Montana before the tragedy.
And he liked being able to feel that again.
As he put on his jacket, he made his way to the living room. Once there, he saw that Ian was already ready and also noticed the look of surprise and confusion on his face when he saw Alan.
Alan looked at himself to see if there was anything wrong, and when he didn't find anything, he turned to look at Ian with confusion.
“Nothing, it's just... it's weird to see you without your cowboy outfit, you're not even wearing a hat,” the man said amusedly.
Well, the truth was that he wasn't wearing anything very different from what he usually wore: dark jeans, a white T-shirt, and his brown leather jacket.
However, he stretched to grab his hat, shrugging his shoulders when Ian just smiled even wider, the amusement clear on his face.
“Of course, my mistake. Come on, Dr. Jones, it's time to go.”
Alan nodded, taking his wallet and walking behind the man, looking more closely at the building and everything he could on the way to the parking lot.
The car ride was quiet, not uncomfortable, but he would be lying if he said that every meter closer to his destination didn't make his nerves betray him. His leg began to move uncontrollably and one of his hands started to shake.
Alan began to move his hand over his leg to calm either of them down, but it didn't work.
In fact, it made him feel worse and worse.
Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, a firm hand rested on his leg, squeezing it gently and calming him down.
Alan turned to see who the hand belonged to, but Ian was still looking ahead. The hand did a great job of helping him calm down, but
Alan said nothing, just breathed more slowly and looked ahead.
The journey was undoubtedly short, but it was long enough for Alan to calm down, or so it seemed until they arrived at the restaurant.
The place quickly overwhelmed him. It was expensive, too expensive, one of those places you could only enter with an invitation or a reservation you got through important contacts, or by being as rich as Hammond.
Once inside, it was even worse, because it was completely empty, except for one table, which was full of familiar faces and others that weren't.
The children were the first to see him, and of course they got up from their seats to run and pounce on him.
Although it was obvious that it was going to happen and he was somewhat prepared, the hug threw him off balance, bringing back memories of the island, of the chase, of the sounds of the beasts chasing after him.
As best he could, he refocused on the children who were looking at him with huge smiles, their voices excited, but with... too much noise.
He moved forward as best he could, approaching the table with Ian behind him, as the children wouldn't leave his side.
At the head of the table was Hammond, next to him was a beautiful blonde woman, surely the man's daughter and the children's mother, next to the woman was Ellie, in front of them was Muldoon with a woman just a little younger, and to one side was Arnold with a woman and a child about Lexie's age.
That left them with the seats next to the children's mother.
“Dr. Malcolm, I didn't know you were coming too,” Ian said with a huge smile to Hammond as he sat down at the other end of the table.
Without thinking, Alan sat down on the edge next to him.
“I didn't get the invitation, but don't worry, John, Alan told me. Your invitation must have gotten lost in space. If I were you, I'd hire another secretary,” the man replied with a mischievous smile.
Alan rolled his eyes and turned to look at the man reproachfully, but that died when Ian flashed him his most innocent smile.
Soon the two were looking at each other amused by the provocation, and especially by the old man's reaction.
“Anyway, Dr. Grant, let me introduce you to my daughter, Miriam. This is Emma, Robert's wife, and this is Ray's wife, Kyra, and their son, Damien.” Alan and Ian just smiled at everyone mentioned.
Arnold's wife seemed to want to say something, but then she seemed to think better of it and remained silent.
Tim and Lex's questions began almost as soon as the silence lasted long enough to know that the conversation had ended there, and as soon as they started, they overwhelmed him.
They wanted to know everything, about Montana, his job, his hat, the letters they sent, what his day was like, whether he liked caramel ice cream or not, absolutely everything.
Alan answered as best he could, as gently as he could, not wanting to be rude to the children, not after learning how much they had suffered from his absence. He answered with the utmost patience while everyone around him chattered away.
But of course, he had his limits, ones that made him seek out Ian for help.
The man had first smiled as if he enjoyed seeing Alan suffer because of the children, but that quickly faded when he saw how much Alan was really suffering.
Ian rescued him with a distraction for the children, something about a little magic trick, enough for him to take a breather.
Alan took advantage of this to breathe and observe.
He noticed the inquisitive looks from the people who had come with Muldoon and Arnold, as well as the annoyed looks from Hammond's daughter, but above all, he noticed Ellie's.
She looked at him as if she didn't know him.
Unable to bear the intensity of that gaze or what it meant, he hid behind the menu.
He was safe from Ellie, but not from Ian, who let out a hearty laugh.
“Dr. Grant, menus are for finding what you want, not for hiding when socializing becomes too much.”
Alan simply responded with a rude gesture, eliciting another laugh.
“What are you going to order, Dr. Grant?” Alan looked at Lexie and shrugged, not really knowing.
“I have no idea. What are you going to order, Lexie?” The girl smiled broadly.
“A salad. They add fresh, delicious fruit here,” Alan smiled fondly, of course.
“Of course. What about you, Timmy?” The boy appeared on the other side of Lexie and looked at him eagerly.
“A full English breakfast,” Alan rolled his eyes amusedly as Tim's eyes were filled with satisfaction.
“I should have guessed,” Alan turned his gaze back to the menu, but each dish made his head feel more and more confused.
He still didn't know what to order or what he wouldn't like. There were simply too many options, some of which were very confusing to him.
So he did the safest thing he could have done.
He looked at Ian for help.
He assumed Ian felt his gaze because just a few seconds later, the man turned to look at him.
“Yes, Dr. Grant?” Alan snorted with amusement.
“What are you going to order?” Ian smiled broadly.
“The pancake tower sounds delicious,” Alan rolled his eyes, of course.
“You really are a child, Malcolm.”
“Come on, Alan, they're delicious. You'd know if you'd tried them. They're even better with chocolate, and I guarantee you'd be as addicted as I am if you'd only tried them once in your life.” Alan looked at the man as if he were an idiot.
“You haven't tried chocolate!?” Alan turned to look at Timmy with amusement. The boy looked scandalized.
“No, I haven't,” the children looked even more indignant.
“What kind of person are you?” Alan snorted just as he heard Ian's laughter.
“Wait, you really haven't tried it?” Alan looked at Arnold's son with a hint of amusement.
“No, I haven't, or any sweets, for that matter. My mother used to give me fruit for dessert. That's the sweetest thing I've ever tasted. Well, it was. Yesterday, Ian took me to eat ice cream for the first time.” The children now looked at him as if he were lying, which made Alan laugh.
“He's telling the truth. He preferred to go for coffee when we went for ice cream, and don't even mention chocolate. He just looked at it as if it had insulted him,” Alan snorted at what Ellie said.
“Don't worry, kids, I'm working on him. It's hard work, but I know he'll love chocolate as much as we do,” Alan rolled his eyes and looked at Ian with resignation and a little amusement.
“But today won't be the day. I can still feel the ice cream in my mouth, so no more sweets for a while,” Ian shook his head with feigned disapproval.
Perhaps not so feigned with the man.
“We have to fix that, seriously, you can order some waffles, they serve them with fruit here and a little egg, who knows when was the last time you ate protein,” yes, well, quite a while ago.
Alan simply lowered his menu and waited for them to take his order.
The silence that followed was a little awkward.
At least until the woman on the other side cleared her throat.
“Dr. Grant, my husband said he didn't want me to bother you, but I can't help it, you saved my man, thank you so much.” Alan shifted in his chair under her gaze, glancing sideways at Ian, who seemed happy to be looking at the plate as if it were a wonderful relic.
But Alan could see his stupid smile, so he kicked him under the table, which earned him a look and a small cry.
Sighing and ignoring the man who was complaining under his breath, he looked at the woman once more before nodding.
“You're welcome, Mrs. Arnold,” the amused smile the woman gave him made Alan realize that she had noticed his discomfort.
“He's the quiet type, isn't he?” Alan was about to speak when he thought better of it and simply sighed as he nodded.
The giggles from the two women across from him were immediate.
So Alan did what seemed safest for him and picked up the menu, hiding behind it and sinking into his chair.
Ian, sitting next to him, burst out laughing, then patted his hand.
“Don't be shy, dear, I doubt they'll pinch you from so far away,” Alan looked at Ian, he wasn't amused.
But clearly the others thought differently if the laughter was anything to go by.
“Leave poor Dr. Grant alone, woman, I told you not to bother him,” Arnold's voice sounded amused.
Traitor.
“I know, I know, reserved, quiet, and a little shy about anything other than his work. You told me that, but you didn't say he was so handsome.” Alan felt his ears flush, especially when Ian leaned in as if he were pretending to evaluate him with his gaze.
“You're not lying, Mrs. Arnold, he is very handsome. Come on, darling, don't deprive us of your beautiful face,” Alan slapped Ian's hand away when he tried to take his menu.
He decided to hide more, but this time because of the smile he couldn't hide.
Ian was an idiot.
He was saved at that moment when the plates arrived, giving Alan the distraction he had been looking for.
However, the conversation had distracted him from something he needed to prepare for.
Out of nowhere, the clatter of cutlery against porcelain hit him like an electric shock.
At first, he tried to ignore it, telling himself that it was only a few minutes and that nothing bad would happen, that he would be fine as soon as all this was over and he could go to Ian's apartment for a while before letting the man drag him around town.
But with each passing clang, he couldn't help but remember the exact moment when he and the children dropped their cutlery and the dinosaurs realized their location.
With each knock, he could remember how, in order to save them, he had attracted the beasts' attention and made them chase him.
He remembered how one of them had caught up with him and scratched his back.
The pain was soon there, as if it had happened only seconds ago.
He pretended that everything was fine, that he could finish breakfast as normal.
But the trembling in his hands gave him away.
He knew it from the way he kept getting increasingly concerned looks.
Aware that the looks only made everything worse, he looked at Ian, silently asking for help.
The man seemed to understand what was happening, and then looked at him calmly and with feigned curiosity: he began to question him about work, about the article Alan had read about space, asking him question after question, forcing him to talk, to distract himself.
Thanks to that, he was able to continue with his breakfast, but much more slowly than the others, as he made sure his cutlery did not clink against his plate.
Everyone seemed calm after that.
Or so he thought, until he heard Hammond's daughter's annoyed voice.
“Are you on drugs, Dr. Grant? You haven't stopped shaking for a while, and you look like you're lost. I read in an article that people with trauma tend to turn to drinking and alcohol.”
There was a deathly silence at the table.
Alan began to feel not only angry, but also vulnerable, as if everyone were judging him, and he didn't like it.
The silence was broken by Ian's laughter.
It was not the charismatic, much less authentic laughter that Alan had heard so much in recent months.
No. It was a laugh full of venom.
“You know, some people say that there's a generation that skips talent, in your case it was two, let's hope the kids get the extra talent.”
Alan turned to look Ian in the eye, and what he saw was a little scary, well, not for him, but boy did he look angry.
“Drugged, he says. He read an article about the vices people fall into after trauma, but he can't read the symptoms of someone suffering from that trauma, he can't see that someone is suffering from post-traumatic stress,” Ian looked at the woman as if she were an idiot.
He had only seen him act like this twice before, and neither time ended peacefully or happily.
“He hates the sound of cutlery against plates, you idiot. The last time he heard it was when he saved your children. He distracted them so they could get out of there, and because of that, he was chased by two dinosaurs and ended up with a wound across his back. The scar will stay with him forever.”
Alan shuddered just remembering the pain.
"He was hunted by beasts from millions of years ago, but they thought it was a brilliant idea to modify them with DNA from other animals, and what they created were monsters. He faced those damn beasts to save your children, children that your father took to a place that hadn't been inspected for safety measures. You should be mad at him, but no, you're attacking the man who saved them, who saved all of us."
Ian ended with annoyance, as if he wanted to say much more but held back.
“He left them! He left my children to suffer! They needed him, and all he did was run away!” Something broke inside Alan.
A mixture of pain, fury, and disbelief.
“I've spent the last two months unable to sleep because every time I close my damn eyes, I feel like I'm being watched, I feel hunted, I have to sleep with a damn knife under my pillow to be able to close my eyes,” his hands trembled again, but this time with contained fury.
Alan wanted to explode.
"I can't eat much besides damn sandwiches because I hate the sound of utensils, I can't turn my back on the stupid windows because I feel like they're going to jump on me. It's like they're hunting me all damn day. I killed for them, I almost died for them. I didn't abandon them. I brought them home. I kept them safe. They're here today because I saved them. I didn't abandon them."
Unable to take it anymore, Alan stood up.
Alan didn't want to keep doing this; he wasn't ready for it.
But before I turned around and left, the other two women got up from their seats.
“Dr. Grant, as I said a moment ago, I really appreciate you taking a risk for my Ray. If it weren't for you, our son would have grown up without a father, and that's something I'll never forget, really,” Mrs. Arnold sounded sincere, but above all, she looked at him kindly even when she seemed upset.
“I really appreciate it too, Dr. Grant. We owe you everything, and I assure you that if you need anything, anything at all, you can come to us. Anything, really, Dr. Grant.”
Alan nodded gratefully.
“Take care of yourself, Dr. Grant. Your health is important too.” Alan looked at Muldoon, who seemed to be looking at him as if he knew exactly what Alan was feeling.
Maybe that was the case, after all, most of them had survived the damn island of hell.
Alan turned and started walking toward the door. Ian was walking ahead, clearly going to his car to leave that damn place.
As he was about to walk out the door, a hand stopped him. It was Ellie, who looked confused, upset, and sad all at the same time.
“What's wrong with you?” Alan looked at the woman in confusion.
“What are you talking about?” Ellie looked at him in frustration.
“You abandoned the children, Alan. You left them knowing they needed you.” Alan looked at the woman who had been his best friend for years.
He didn't know what to say.
“Dr. Grant, Lexie and I understand that you need time for yourself. We know you've been through a lot more than we have, so... don't worry, I promise we'll wait,” Alan felt a lump in his throat, mostly from relief.
How was it possible that the children could understand him better than the other adults?
“Thank you, I promise I'll write to you, I'll answer your letters,” the two children gave them huge smiles.
“I warn you that our answers will be long, and that when you're ready we'll want to talk to you on the phone,” Alan smiled at Lexie and then at Tim and nodded.
The children smiled once more before running back to their mother, who looked at Alan with a mixture of emotions.
But above all, it was as if she wanted to grab him and keep him there so he could help the children.
He had to leave.
“Don't come looking for me until you stop being Ian's puppet. This isn't you, this is that man,” Alan turned quickly and left the restaurant, heading straight for the car that was already waiting for him.
Once inside the car, he leaned back against the seat, covered his face, and allowed himself to lose control.
He could feel how difficult it was becoming to regulate his breathing, how it was becoming increasingly laborious, as if his chest were closing in on him.
He felt like he was losing control, or at least that's how he felt until Ian's hand rested on his leg again, anchoring him.
Just one touch.
That was all it took to anchor him to the present and let go of everything else.
Alan closed his eyes, still breathing heavily, but now calmer, with thousands of thoughts in his head, but one of them stronger than all the others.
Ellie's voice repeating itself over and over again.
Don't look for me until you stop being Ian's puppet, she said.
Was he really that? Was he Ian's puppet?