givingback | open post

[ She's glad. She's glad she's like her father who loved her so much that Bree never doubted it. But knowing how she's like Jamie is intriguing to her, like playing a game of 'spot the differences in the pictures' but in reverse.

Yawning, she moves so that she's on one side of the bed and her mother has the other. Once they're settled, she blows out the candle on her nightstand and lays on her side, facing Claire. After a moment, though, she can't help whispering in the dark. ]

It's so quiet. With no glowing lights where small things are.

[ In the dark now, she sounds a little younger, a little more afraid of the decision she's made (though she doesn't regret it), and she's almost immediately pressing as close to Claire as she can. ]

[Claire mirrors the motions, blowing out the candle and slipping under the blankets to face her daughter. The only sounds are from the street below, people heading home or wandering off somewhere for the night. No cars. No planes. No hum of electricity.]

When I came back, the noise was difficult for me for some time. Planes startled me and the radio gave me a headache. It took a while for my mind to adjust, just as it will for you to get used to this.

[It's been a long time since Bree's cuddled up to her in bed, but Christ, she's missed it. She'll always be her little girl. She guides her head to a comfortable spot on her shoulder and resumes petting her hair, soothing her.]

Don't be afraid. You have me, and you'll have Jamie. There's nothing to fear as long as you're with us.

[ Bree didn't even know how much she missed this, she can't even remember the last time it happened, but she's extremely glad for it right now. Just before sleep begins to pull her in, Brianna murmurs one last thing. ]

I love you, mama.

[ It's the stroking of her hair that eventually does her in, pulling her under. ]

I love you too, Bree.

[And she knows Jamie will, too. No matter what's happened over the years or how things have changed. They made this wonderful person in her arms. They'll always have that.

Claire spends some time stroking her hair, thinking about what the next day might hold, before sleep takes her, too.]

[ The next morning, after being helped back into her clothes and wrangling her hair into a respectable updo, Brianna gives her mother one more pep talk before sending her through the door. She promises to stay right where she is, and while she might have tested that at home, and she might test it in the future, today she doesn't. She sits and eats some hard bread, cheese and some kind of meat, though she isn't sure what it is. And she has wine, which is what everyone drinks, apparently, for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. How everyone isn't dying of dehydration is totally beyond her.

As time passes she paces, makes the bed, tidies the table with the food and essentially fidgets. She looks out of the window which is, unfortunately on the opposite side of the building from the entrance. She's nervous and curious and everything in between, hoping for so much for her mother. For all three of them.

When she hears Claire's voice on the stairs, she can't help but hope she laced Bree's being here with mystery, a true surprise for him after twenty years of wondering. Bree stands, smoothing out the clothing she's wearing, brushing that errant (and now curly) hair aside, and facing the door. Just as it opens, she's letting out a deep breath and is very nearly vibrating with anticipation. ]

Edited 2018-01-11 04:26 (UTC)

[This was not the day James Fraser was expecting to have, but God, he wouldn't change it for the world.

The morning has been a whirlwind. Claire, not some ghost or figment of his imagination, right in front of him. His back aches a bit from his fainting spell, and his heart hasn't stopped pounding since she touched him, but he's managed to hold it together fairly well he'd like to think. The photographs--amazing things--almost did him in. Brianna. Claire had looked ready to fall apart herself when telling him about her, but he'd interrupted her to tell her about Willie. He couldn't keep that from her. Sometimes he'd talk to her when he couldn't sleep, tell her about the boy, and prayed she wouldn't hate him for it. She didn't.

Oh, but she might later.

Then it was time for business, and when that was settled he began to lead her to a place where they could have some privacy. But she'd grabbed his hand in the middle of the road and said two words that made his breathing stop: Brianna's here.

Christ, Sassenach, ye couldn't have told me this before?

Like he's one to talk.

Still, he had laughed, in absolute shock and disbelief.

Now here they were.

Claire ushers him into the room before he has a chance to truly try and think, and he's not sure what he expected. The young woman in the photos, maybe, but they do her no justice. The colorized ones didn't come near to capturing the red of her hair or the brightness of her eyes. And for some reason he's surprised to see her dressed so--and so he stares, jaw slack, blue eyes blinking back he burning behind them.

He almost feels like he could hit the ground again and reaches a hand out blindly to grab the back of the chair by the door.]

[None of today feels real, and just as Claire expected, this feels like some sort of out of body experience. Jamie had been nervous, just as nervous as herself and Bree on the way over, but there was no choice but to put one foot in front of the other. Stepping into the room, she has barely enough time to shut the door behind them before she sees the color leave Jamie's face.

Gently, but firmly, she grabs onto the arm of his that's holding onto the chair for dear life. A glance down shows his knuckles are white. He likely won't go down for a second time today, but Claire keeps a hold on him just in case.]

Jamie, Brianna. Brianna, Jamie.

[As if they don't know. But it's better than the silence of the two of them seeing one another for the first time in the flesh. No one tells you how to handle these sorts of things, do they?]

[ Brianna didn't know what to expect either, and when he comes through the door, when he look at her, she feels like he might be able to see her heart trying to beat its way out of her chest. Her eyes flicker to his hand, wondering if he's going to pass out without knowing he already has once today, and she wets her lips. What does she do now? Does she shake his hand? Hug him? Do women curtsey? Oh, no, she doesn't know what to do, and it's what's keeping her from moving and the reason her mouth is slightly open.

But, finally, she snaps out of it and walks closer, standing in front of him now, Jamie, the person who wanted her more than anything but had to give her up. She looks at him up close, at his eyes, his skin, then smiles just a little. ]

We have the same nose, I think.

[ It's all she can come up with right now; she's in shock so it's surprising she was able to speak at all. ]

[She's more beautiful than any image light on paper could paint. All at once, he sees it. Bits of his own mother, bits of Claire, bits of himself. Bits of Faith, though he only ever heard of her and drew up a picture in his mind of how she must have looked, not seen her with his own eyes.

When she moves, moves towards him, for a moment his vision darkens around the edges. But he can feel Claire gripping his arm, and her other hand against the small of his back, and it reminds him that this is real. This is happening. This is his daughter. And oh, God, she's speaking.

... with the strangest accent he's ever heard. It's clear on his face for a moment. And then he laughs. It's almost just a breath, everything still caught in his throat and his chest, but she's here and she's speaking and she's a witty one. Just like her mother.]

I'm afraid I don't spend much time looking down at my own nose, lass.

[His free hand lifts, almost as if to touch her face, but he thinks better of it. It's an awkward motion that has him standing uncomfortably, every emotion wanting him to crush her to his chest, but not wanting to frighten her.]

[ Bree sees that movement of his hand, the hesitation, and without thinking too much about it, she reaches out and takes it, fingers closing around his. She holds onto him and that connection, that feeling of his hand in hers, of the same blood flowing through their palms feels like something. ]

It's nice to finally meet you, James Fraser.

[ Then, she's the one to make that final step so that he can hug her. Awkward for her, maybe. But she knows it's needed for him, so she does it, letting him finally embrace the child he knew of by thought only. ]

[It's fast. She's touching him, and then she's moving closer, and it's all he can do to keep himself from breaking apart. Strong arms wrap around her and hold her as tightly as he'd dare. There, lips pressing into her hair, he weeps. Nothing more than tears and the shaking of his body, no sobs, but he can't help it. As often as he's had dreams of Claire, he's had dreams of this child, and now they're both here.]

It's--it's wonderful to meet ye, Brianna.

[Randall, he supposes. He says her name differently than Claire. That Scottish accent does a wonder on the simplest of words, but it's already full of love. He does love her. He's loved her for twenty years.]

You were always in my prayers. Every night, I prayed.

[Now here they were.]

[Oh, her girl. Their girl. Claire watches in wonder as father holds daughter, and she's glad Jamie's weeping because she is, too. Does it make up for two decades, and all those things Jamie would never experience, raising his own daughter? No. Not at all.

But it's a start.

Claire doesn't speak, but she does rub Jamie's back, soothing him as she might Bree.]

[ Brianna doesn't quite know what to do, but she lets him hold her as long as he wants to. She can tell he's crying and that's when it hits her, how incredibly emotional this is for her parents. They're experiencing something they thought they never would, and she's suddenly so incredibly glad she took charge of this decision. She can't imagine not giving this to them now.

Still, that doesn't mean she knows exactly what to do or say, and when he speaks, she turns his words over in her head, trying to decide what to do with them. He sounds like Roger but surer of himself somehow, even during an unsure moment. The way his name rolls off her tongue makes it seem like she's hearing it for the first time. If she'd known about him, maybe she would have prayed for him, too. ]

I want you to know I didn't grow up wanting for anything. I had a happy life, an amazing one.

[ Only now does she pull back to look up at him, but she stays close. There's that stupid curl, resting against her cheek. ]

But when I found out about you and that mama's story was true, that the stones were real, I knew I wanted to meet you somehow.

[He's not sure how or why any of this is happening, but nothing in him can question it. Her words are a balm--things Claire had assured him of today, yet hearing it from Brianna erases any doubt in his mind. It was worth it. She had a life he could have never given her here.

When she looks at him he can't help but smile, tears smeared on his face, and without a thought he tucks that curl away from her face, a thing done with Claire so many times. As if realizing, he laughs softly. How can this be real?]

I heard ye dinna take no for an answer. [Frasers. He finally spares a watery glance over at Claire, smiling, but then he's right back to looking at his daughter.]

Absolutely not. She wasn't going to let me come find you alone. [Claire chimes in, daring to step closer so she can touch Bree's arm. A hand on her husband, and a hand on their daughter. Something impossible for so long.]

Sit, the both of you. [There's a pointed look at Jamie. Don't topple over again.]

[ Bree's smile is genuine and wide, canting her head toward him even as she moves to sit on the table. ]

I hear I'm as stubborn as you. And what was it mother? We both eat like cows.

[ Oh yes, your own words are coming back, Claire. But it's a way for Brianna to keep it light, to keep both of her parents smiling as long as she possibly can. The light that's already in her mother's eyes is something special, and Bree can't help but be moved by it. ]

[Jamie follows after to sit near her, bolstered by the fact that she initiated contact. He's a tactile man, and there's still that want to hold her and never let her go, but he can keep it at bay for now.

Her comment makes him laugh. It's an easier sound now, and as Claire joins them, he's not sure he's ever been happier.]

Aye. Aye, I did have the impressive appetite when I was younger.

[Less these days. Years of living in a cave followed by years behind bars trained his stomach to want less.]

Still, I dinna remember such rude comments back then, Claire.

[Sassenach is what he wants to say, but for Bree's sake, he keeps the nickname to himself.]

[She's not very sure where to sit, be it closer to Bree or closer to Jamie. They're all experiencing something new, and she's not sure how to balance it. So, she plants herself across from them, in the middle, able to watch. Jamie's hair is lighter with age, but it once was that same red of Bree's. Surely she can see that.]

Then your memory is going. I said it quite a bit. [She leans over just enough to touch that hair of Bree's, trying to tame another curl that wants to make an escape.] And I thought you said horse?

[Speaking of food, they should eat soon... and figure out where they'll be staying. Jamie had a place, and there was a single bed in the printshop, so she imagines there's not much room for two women to tag along.]

I was only quoting you.

[ Bree smiles winningly at Claire, then looks back at Jamie. It's so odd now, to realize all of those times she was looking for herself in Frank and never found him, she was looking at the wrong person. They have the same hair, now that hers can't be tamed by modern products. Her face is a perfect combination of both her mother and father's, and their eyes. His are a little brighter than hers, but they match all the same. Now it's Brianna who reaches out and touches Jamie's face now, almost reverently, like he's a ghost. As soon as her fingertips make contact, she lets out a breath. ]

You're really here. I can't believe I'm actually seeing you.

[ She's completely awed and she has no idea what happens next, if he's ready for them both to be in his life, if they have a place to live, if there's anything at all. But she's seeing him now, a person who was a ghost in 1968 but flesh and blood and solid in front of her now. ]

[He freezes when she touches her, this giant man looking like a deer in headlights. He can't believe she knows who he is, let alone that she's here and touching him. It takes a moment for his brain to catch up, and when it does, he gently touches the hand on his face, closing his eyes and turning to press his lips to her fingers.

Everything is complicated, raw and exposed, but he wants them both in his life. He can't imagine letting this go.]

Aye.

[He's at a loss for words. He hunches over some, grasping Bree's hand between his two large paws.]

[Poor Jamie. Claire's heart is warmed, but it's breaking, too. This is a lot. There's a creak as she moves her chair, just slightly closer. Twenty years and she can still read him like a book. He wants to crumble, but he's doing his very best to not be overwhelmed. Claire reaches over to rub his back again, making a soft sound.]

Just breathe. Take your time.

[Bree gets a small smile. She had worried that Brianna would be the one with the more extreme reaction, but her girl surprises her constantly. She's doing what Jamie needs--accepting him, accepting this.]

[ It might catch up with her later, all of this, how overwhelming it is, but she can read a room. Right now, she's doing what she thinks she should be, and she'll think about if this means she's betraying Frank in some way later. Much later. Right now, she's a little alarmed and looks at Jamie and then Claire, speaking quietly. ]

I'm sorry, was that...is that too much? I don't know what to do...

[ Her voice trails off at the end, unsure of what her next move should be. ]

No. [He's quick to look up at her, hands holding hers tighter. His eyes are wet.] No. I'm just... verra happy, lass.

[A sniff, and he smiles. It's a true smile.]

I'm all right.

[He looks to Claire. He's all right as a man can be in this situation.]

No fainting on us. [There's a teasing look given to Jamie, and he huffs out an amused sound. Once was probably enough for today. Claire's hand moves to his hair, brushing against his temple briefly. Not a touch shared with Frank. Not a look like this, either, eyes full of adoration as she keeps her eyes on Jamie for a long moment.]

I think we could all do with a drink?

[No chance to argue it. Claire moves towards the decanter in the room, a hand touching Bree's shoulder as she passes.]

[ A drink sounds perfect, and Bree exhales, smiling a little before sitting back in her chair. She oddly misses the warmth of his hand around hers, and she looks at Jamie, a promise that she's not going anywhere, that she'll make up the best she can for 20 years of missed hugs and tender moments.

Watching the way her mother interacts with Jamie is so different than anything she's ever seen before. With Frank touches seemed stiff and obligated, not loving and spontaneous.

It's weird.

As soon as she has her alcohol she takes a large gulp, then holds the cup between her hands. She doesn't know what the hell to say so she's going to let her mother figure it out. She does say thank you for the drink, though. ]

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