It was four years ago when he had seen his comrades die in the worst ways possible. He could do nothing to prevent it.
His head hurt and his heart couldn't stop racing. Like he were back in combat. Like he He felt like he was being choked; air escaping his lungs and not reaching his nose.
were back under the water. Falling, sinking, drowni-
With a startling gasp, Owen opened his eyes to see the faint blue hue of the outside light through his blinds.
He panted for a few moments, his thoughts awry as he continued to get his breathing stable.
He wasn't under water. He wasn't being strangled. He wasn't watching his comrades die.
His arms were dry. The covers were dry. He was on a bed,
he was on land. He was in his bungalow that he built from ground up and lived in safety, on Isla Nublar. His name was Owen Grady and he was safe.
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