Unpredictable

Ian and I lay in silence for what seemed like hours. I was terrified. I was barely able to move a finger.

I could feel the ghost of it's rumbling steps, the vibrations running through our bodies. It was a while before we were able to get up. During the experience, Ian had hit his leg and caused the bleeding to start up again.

As I was re-dressing his wound, I could feel his gaze burning against my head and after a while I looked up, arching a brow in question.

"Oh," I dropped my hands away from his leg as quickly as I could. "Am I hurting you?"

"Not, uh, at all," he replied, the lie showing in the way that his mouth twitched when I put one hand back on the bandages.

"I'm sorry but I have to bandage it up again. It might get infected," sincerity laced my voice and I frowned, not really enjoying the fact that I was inflicting pain on the attractive man before me. In fact, in all honesty, even though Ian was covered in mud and dried blood, he was still quite handsome despite what most would think.

I finished bandaging the wound and I stood up, stretching my aching legs and looking around just in case the Rex had come back. Much to my (and Ian's) relief, I saw nothing and no-one.

"We've got to keep going. We took a little break but now we have to get back at it," I regretfully told the man who then groaned at me, hating the fact that he knew I was right. I chuckled and helped him up.

"I, uh, was thinking about, uh, how much I'm going to rub this in to Hammond when we, uh, get back," Ian chuckled breathily, stumbling over an overturned root.

"You and me both, buddy. Have I got words for him..." I trailed off, mind drifting to think about what awful names I was planning to call the elderly man.

"I hope Alan and the kids are alright," I sniffed, fighting the oncoming tears I felt welling up in my eyes.

"Hey..." Ian grabbed my hand, forcing me to stop in my tracks and face him.

"They'll be alright. He's an expert remember," his tone was soft and his eyes understanding. I sniffed again, looking away from his intense gaze. He rubbed his thumb over my hand.

"They will," he said again, softly nudging me forward. I sighed but kept walking, my hand in his.

His hand was warm and vaguely calloused but not enough that it was rough. The skin was still soft enough to count as unworked. His hand encasing mine was comforting and a damn good distraction from the awful situation that we had found ourselves in.

I felt myself slowly calming down again and for this I was thankful. We walked on for a while more, stopping every so often to let Ian rest but each time we set off again, I somehow always noticed my hand back in his.

Eventually we came across an abandoned storehouse. The clouds above us were darkening again, ensuring the promise of rain. I bit my lip and turned to look at Ian.

"Should we stay here for the night? The clouds are getting dark again and you can't go much further today without risking permanent damage," I glanced at his leg, noticing the obvious difference in size between both of his legs from the swelling.

Ian merely shrugged. I rolled my eyes and made my way over to the grey-blue door. I lifted my hand to the handle and pulled down, surprised to find the storeroom unlocked. I pushed open the door slowly, listening to the loud high pitched creaking.

The inside of the room was covered wall to wall in shelves which were stacked high with things like gardening tools and pesticides. In the back of the room, leaning against the bottom shelves, were two bales of hay. I looked back at Ian who was looking around at the road, as if he'd heard something.