Title: Fuzzy Scales
Fandom: Jurassic World
Rating: PG
Length: ~1000

Summary: Zach tries to help Gray cope with a reminder.



It was nearing midnight when Zach shut off his tablet and closed his textbook. He rubbed his eyes as he stepped into the hallway, heading to brush his teeth. He paused mid-yawn when he noticed light shining from the crack under Gray’s bedroom door.

Frowning, Zach changed course and crossed to his brother’s room. He knocked before opening it, softly, in case Gray was sleeping despite the light.

He wasn’t. Gray sat propped against the headboard, staring toward the foot of the bed. He twitched as the door opened, but otherwise didn’t react.

“Hey.” Zach kept his voice low, mindful of their parents asleep down the hall. “Bad dream?”

Gray shook his head mutely and just kept staring.

At this point, pre-Jurassic World Zach would have rolled his eyes at what he perceived as stubbornness and gone back to his own bed. That’s if he’d even bothered to check on his brother in the first place.

He wasn’t that Zach anymore.

He stepped in, closed the door behind him with a soft snick, and went to the bed. He sat down at Gray’s side, staring at him for a moment before following his line of sight.

At the foot of the bed, perched atop the folded comforter, was Dino. The stuffed dinosaur had been Gray’s favorite since he was two years old. He’d slept with it and dragged it everywhere. It had that well-loved toy look, bare patches scattered amongst the fuzz and odd lumps of stuffing deforming the body. Still, it stared back at them with big eyes and a bright cartoonish grin.

Though Gray might deny it, Zach knew he still slept with Dino when he was having a rough time. Or at least, he had. Before.

Funny how everything divided so sharply into Before and After.

“Gray?” Zach carefully nudged his shoulder against Gray’s.

When Gray only sniffled, Zach shifted to sling an arm around him and tuck the smaller boy against his side.

There was an unsettling, indeterminate moment in which Gray was still unresponsive. But then something seemed to snap, and he sighed before sagging into Zach’s hold. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Sometimes I can’t, either.” There were nights when he didn’t even try; when the panic bubbled too close to the surface and the teeth were there the second he closed his eyes.

Gray sniffled again, burrowing his head into Zach’s shoulder. “I’m tired.”

Zach’s stomach clinched uncomfortably. “I know, bud. Me, too.”

Gray’s looked toward the foot of the bed again. “I thought… I mean, it used to help me sleep. To hold Dino. But now…”

Zach held Gray a little tighter. Now, Dino was the only dinosaur still present in Gray’s room. All the other toys and posters had been relegated to boxes in the attic. Zach wasn’t sure if that was Gray’s choice or Mom’s. Whatever the case, most of the potential reminders were gone.

Zach hadn’t really agreed with that choice. It just attached the fear to objects, things that used to bring joy. And the memories were still there either way.

“He’s still the same old Dino.”

“Yeah.” Gray sighed. “Guess I’m the one who changed.”

Zach clinched his jaw, easily imagining an exhausted Gray reaching for the one thing that used to comfort him and finding that it only made things worse. That it couldn’t provide security now that it resembled his nightmares.

A burst of hot anger surged through him. He drew in a slow breath, then another, until he’d calmed. He’d have liked to chuck the toy out the window, but that wouldn’t help Gray. Also, the poor stuffed animal hadn’t done anything wrong.

So instead, Zach patted Gray on the back and shifted, leaning forward just enough to snag Dino with his free hand. He settled back against the headboard, Gray huddled close, and both of them looked at the creature.

“You know, I always wondered about this guy. He doesn’t look like any dinosaur I’ve ever heard of.” The neck was long like a brachiosaurus, but it had the spiked back of a stegosaurus and the horns of a triceratops. Add the neon-green plush fabric with hot pink accents, and the effect was far more cartoon than real-life dinosaur.

“I know. He’s silly, childish. But I always thought he was the best, anyway.” Gray refused to touch it, winding his fingers in Zach’s t-shirt instead. “Now, I think he’s a hybrid. Like the Indominus.”

Zach winced. Just the word brought forth the memories; running and screaming, blood and fear.

No wonder Gray couldn’t sleep.

Zach realized his fingers were digging deep into stuffing. He took a breath and loosened his grip, wiggling the toy. “But… that’s not really Dino’s fault, is it? I mean, someone sewed him, from some crazy pattern they’d made up, and it wasn’t true to nature. And then they shoved him out into the world and sold him. But he can’t help any of that; he just... does what he does.”

Zach wondered if the metaphor had gone off the rails a bit. But Gray reached out and traced the wide, threadbare smile. “And at least Dino didn’t eat anybody along the way.”

Zach huffed a laugh. “Exactly.”

“And he does look very happy about life.”

“Maybe that’s because he’s fuzzy. It’s hard to be angry and fuzzy.”

Gray rewarded him with a small smile. “Aunt Claire should have had them make a fuzzy dinosaur.”

“I vote for fuzzy claws. Less sharp and stabby; more ticklish.” He scrabbled his fingers lightly against Gray’s side.

Gray giggled, pushing at Zach’s hand. “Yeah. That would have been good.” He finally reached out and took Dino from Zach. He pulled the toy towards his chest and sighed. “Stupid, right? To stress out over a toy I shouldn’t even need.”

“No, not stupid. Dino’s always been important to you. We grow, and change, but… things that are a part of us don’t go away.”

Gray glanced up at him. “Like brothers?”

Zach grinned. “Stuffed dinosaurs and brothers.”