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theotherackerman · 3 years

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My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

NOTES: January 3rd, Sunday

song credit:exile- taylor swift featuring bon iver,

chapter seven: you were my crown

Hange knew Levi when they were both in high school together. He had a reputation of being a bit of a badass and someone you didn’t get onto the wrong side of. Hange wasn’t afraid of him though. They would often sit next to him in class. Others would just stare at Hange but they paid no mind.

Hange lost track of Levi after high school.

Hange had gone off to college to pursue their one true love of science. They had heard that Levi had been arrested again and then a little while later, that Levi was going into the service. Mutual friends seemed to be proud of Levi, so Hange was proud too.

For Christmas one year, the group got together and made a care package for Levi. Hange included a few small, silly books they had picked up and some tea they had found.

Hange found a letter in the mailbox one day.

Hange,

Thanks.

How’s whatever you're studying? Quantum physics or whatever? Let me know if you discover the answers to the universe.

-Levi

PS : Send more tea.

That’s how it began. They wrote letters back and forth, Hange sending Levi tea and whatever little, stupid things that reminded them of him.

Then the incident happened.

Levi came back different.

He seemed colder, withdrawn.

Hange didn’t know how to react.

So instead they acted like Levi was the same person that they had been writing all this time.

Instead of sending condolences or gift baskets, Hange just regularly delivered tea to Levi.

They would just show up, say hello, hand Levi loose leaf tea in a pretty box, and leave.

“Tell her to bring me some bourbon next time!” Kenny had yelled from inside the house.

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose, “Kenny, please shut up. Do you want to come in?”

“Sure,” Hange smiled.

It was the beginning of their weekly tea meetings.

Then Mikasa came along.

Their weekly tea meetings continued but it sometimes was joined by a nine year and her toys.

Levi had grumbled and pretended to hate it but Hange knew the truth.

It had been no surprise to Hange how Levi had pretended to hate the fact he had all of the kids moving back in. They were all still kids to both Hange and Levi.

Hange knew Levi was happy to have everyone back. They had seen how sad he had been when Mikasa had left. The silence that had overtaken the house. That had been the point of the dogs, to liven up an otherwise quiet house.

Hange had found Sawney and Bean at an animal shelter. They had a sad story attached to them about how they had just been left in a box. Hange couldn’t bear to separate them, so two dogs came home with Hange to be Levi’s late Christmas gift.

Now Sawney and Bean sat in chairs at the kitchen table on both sides of Levi who was feeding them bacon and eggs.

Sasha had been the one to prepare breakfast as she always woke up first.

A groggy Ymir had appeared next who immediately went straight to the coffee machine.

Historia and Mikasa followed a few moments later.

“You’re going to make it too strong again and no one but you will drink it,” Historia said as she t ried to push Ymir out of the way.

“You and Mika make it too weak!” Ymir countered standing her ground in front of the coffee machine.

Levi sighed before he got up, “move.”

And Ymir and Historia did.

-----------------------------------

“Did you ever text him back?” Ymir asked long after Jean and Connie had left.

“Not yet,” Mikasa answered before she shuffled her music around.

They were back in the sunroom to continue work on their music, even without a record deal.

“Do it quick like a Band-Aid! Just be like ‘Eren, you’re an ass but I like your ass. Thanks for complimenting my writing abilities. You are correct, you will never be able to live up to my creative genius,” Sasha laughed.

“That is the worst response I’ve ever heard. Do text Niccolo shit like that?” Ymir asked Sasha as she plugged in her bass to the amp.

“Nah, it was more like ‘Hey, I hear you can bang the drums pretty well do you think you can bang me like those drums?’”

“I take it back. That’s actually the worst. Is he even your boyfriend yet?”

“No, I haven’t even kissed him. He’s more like….I dunno. This guy I text and then when I see him, I turn into a potato.”

Historia was the first to notice Mikasa being uncomfortable. It was another reminder that Mikasa was alone. So Historia plopped down next to her on the piano bench in front of the keyboard.

“You know I would like to work on this song Mikasa and I have been working on instead of hearing about Sasha sexting Niccolo, “ Historia said as she pulled out her own music.

“I second that,” Annie said as she sat on the other side of Mikasa with her guitar.

“I third it!” Armin yelled from the living room.

There were barks from Sawney and Bean.

“Ya’ll suck but fine,” Sasha said before going over to her drum set.

“So it’s a duet, right? You said that when you sent the lyrics over,” Historia asked.

Mikasa nodded, “Yeah. I already worked with Ymir on the first part. So it’s Annie’s vocalization here. Then it goes to you, Historia. Do you just want to take it from the vocalizations?”

“I can do that,” Annie said as Mikasa began to play the piano. “ Hoo, hoo-ooh. Hoo, hoo-ooh. Hoo,hoo-ooh ,” Annie sang before Historia took over.

“[lyrics redacted due to copyright]”

Ymir was staring at Historia, their past was clearly on display here. Ymir had jealousy issues, something that she would never deny. How many fights had she purposely picked against Reiner to prove she was the better choice?

“ And then this chorus is just you,” Mikasa pointed out before playing the next part of the song.

“[lyrics redacted due to copyright],”

Historia had been the one to move out for a very brief few days when they had broken up. Even though it was her father’s house, she had let Ymir stay.

“And then it goes back to Ymir, then it’s like a call and response. Do you want to just try it or you want me to show you?”

Ymir moved so she could look over Mikasa’s shoulder.

“Let’s just try it,” Ymir answered. Mikasa nodded before she began to play again. “[lyrics redacted due to copyright]”

“[lyrics redacted due to copyright],” ” Historia sang.

For some reason, that made Ymir feel like she was being attacked by Historia. She did hear her out.

It was Historia not hearing Ymir out that was the problem.

“[lyrics redacted due to copyright],”

Historia never gave Ymir a warning sign? Well, Ymir clearly hadn’t been paying attention. How many times she made it clear that she had feelings for Ymir and the other girl had just brushed it off as a joke? How many more signs did Ymir need?

“[lyrics redacted due to copyright],”

“And this is together,” Mikasa called out.

“[lyrics redacted due to copyright],” Ymir and Historia harmonized.

“[lyrics redacted due to copyright],” Historia sang by herself.

“And the next chorus together!” Mikasa called out again.

“[lyrics redacted due to copyright],” Historia and Ymir sang in harmony.

Mikasa stopped playing, pulling both Historia and Ymir from their own thoughts. Mikasa was crying as were Annie and Sasha.

“Stop fighting with each other,” Mikasa finally spoke. “Please. Let the past be buried. You both fucked up. Now let it go. Don’t end up like me, please.”

Ymir swallowed, when had she started crying? Damn Mikasa and her mind reading abilities.

How had Mikasa been able to put what exactly Historia and her had been feeling this whole time?

“The rest of the song is just back to things we’ve already covered,” Mikasa said quietly.

“Okay,” Historia answered.

“I don’t think I don’t think I should sing on it. I think that needs to be Ymir,” Annie suggested.

“I agree, I don’t think I should add percussion to it. I think it just needs to be Ymir, Historia, and you, Mika. Just two vocalists and the piano,” Sasha added.

“I agree. It already gives me goosebumps this way. This is the way it should stay.”

“I mean if you really think that and it’s okay with Ymir and Historia…..” Mikasa looked to the other two girls for answers.

“Whatever you think is best,” Historia said before standing up. “We’re all a part of this band equally.”

“Okay, that settles it. Whenever we can record, this is Ymir and Historia on vocals and Mikasa on piano. Mikasa, put your hands on the piano like you’re playing. I’ll post it on No Name’s Instagram. I’m going to beat this algorithm if it is the last thing I do,” Annie said as she stood up to take the picture.

“If anyone can beat an algorithm, it is math genius Annie!” Sasha called out as she stood up from the drums.

Ymir and Historia seem to wander together.

“You want to grab coffee one day this week? I don’t have much money so I can’t take you to dinner but we could talk. Just the two of us?” Ymir asked.

Historia just stared up at Ymir for a moment before nodding. “I’d like that.”

“Cool,” Ymir said as her face went red. She was so bad at this but at least this was a start.

“I need a puppy break, that song was depressing,” Sasha said as she exited the sun room.

The rest of the band followed.

“That was great,” Armin said as the girls entered the living room.

“You’ve come a long way. I’m very proud of you,” Hange beamed.

Levi had a book covering his face but they could see him nodding before Hange snatched the book out of in front of his face. There were tears clearly there.

“Are you crying, Levi?” Ymir asked, absolutely dumbstruck.

“No, I got dog hair in my eye.”

No one dared argue with that.

----------------------------------

Eren didn’t know what was worse some days.

The crippling depression that made it hard to do absolutely anything or the mania that made him feel like he could do anything.

With a combination of therapy and medication, he was starting to stabilize. He found that his writing had actually got better now. He didn’t feel less creative as he had feared. His therapist was proud of him, he was proud of himself.

Being back in the old house had brought back many feelings. The pictures of him, Mikasa, and Armin still lined the walls in his bedroom. He hadn’t packed his old bedroom up.

Zeke had patients to see today so Eren was alone. It didn’t mean that he was truly alone though.

His phone would go off with texts from Zeke, Floch, and Niccolo. Eren had decided to write a new song as a response to Mikasa’s.

PING!

Zeke Jaeger:

Stop focusing on the song and eat something. Balance.

Eren Jaeger:

You sound like my shrink.

Zeke Jaeger:

Maybe it is because I'm a psychologist. Eat something and drink some water.

Eren Jaeger:

Fine. You sound like my mom.

Zeke Jaeger:

Someone has to.

So Eren ate lunch.

He didn’t dare think about the fact Mikasa hadn’t texted him back.

Well that was a lie.

He had thought about it a couple times. Okay, more than a couple times, if he was being honest. He knew he shouldn’t expect her to respond. She owed him nothing. He was the one who had lashed out, allowing his fears to take control of him. He worried far too much on events that had yet to come without realizing what he was trying to avoid, he caused. He had brought pain to Mikasa and Armin.

Yet even after that, here was Mikasa giving him another chance to talk. She wanted him to tell her everything.

He told himself that he had done the right thing, that she was better off without him when it first happened. Yet there was a part of him that wanted to be selfish, even back then.

PING!

Mikasa Ackerman:

Thanks. Are you free tomorrow? I think we should talk if you are.

Eren stared at his phone for a moment.

She wanted to talk.

Tomorrow.

Many of his drunken antics had included crying over Mikasa and what he had put her through.

As Zeke had reminded him many times, Eren had spent one drunken night crying over the fact that Eren had given her sunflowers on her birthday. It had been mostly about how he should have given her flowers more.

Zeke being Zeke just let Eren sit on the floor and cry.

There was no reasoning with drunk Eren.

It took a lot to get Eren drunk but when he did, it was bad.

But he had stopped drinking.

He looked at his phone again.

What should he say?

He needed advice but Zeke had patients.

Niccolo would tell him just to say yes already.

Floch….Floch would say some stupid response which wouldn’t be useful.

Reiner would listen to Eren but he was at work.

Bertolt would have picked up but he would have told Eren he had no idea what to do.

Porco would pretend he didn’t know who Eren was while Marcel would give Eren some sappy crap.

Pieck would….he actually wasn’t sure what Pieck would do.

But the problem was outside of Reiner and Bertolt, none of them were truly Eren’s friends.

Well, Niccolo was his friend. He’d made that much clear.

And Floch was more like...well...he was Floch. He wasn’t someone Eren talked to about his personal life.

But the others, they only talked to him because he was Zeke’s little brother or that’s at least what Eren felt. He wasn’t sure if that was true or not.

Eren hadn’t talked to his friends in almost a year.

He hadn’t kept in contact with them.

He had figured most of them would have taken Mikasa and Armin’s side anyway.

He missed them though, especially right now.

He had fucked up.

In more than one way.

His phone rang.

Zeke.

“Did you burn the house down?” Zeke asked on the other line.

“No, why?”

“Because you need to eat. That requires cooking, if you were unaware.”

“Don’t you have a patient?”

“Well, I did until he got food poisoning. “

“Are you allowed to tell me that?”

“He threw up outside of the building. He was in public. Besides, I did not tell you who he was.”

“Mikasa wants to meet again to talk tomorrow.”

“And?”

“And what? I just told you.”

“What are you going to do not to fuck things up this time?”

“Do you realize I have no friends, right? It’s just you and yours.”

“And who is to blame for that?”

“Me,” Eren sighed.

“Exactly. Now, the love of your life is giving you a second chance, I suggest you take it.”

“You and Armin….always so logical.”

“Someone has to be. You are not. You make things much harder on yourself than they need to be.”

“What would you do?”

“About what?”

“If you had someone like Mikasa.”

“I would have not made the same mistake you did to start but I think I would do anything to have that person back. Grovel, beg, cry. Whatever it took, I would do it. A love like that is rare, you know.”

“Did you feel that way about Yelena?”

Zeke started laughing very loudly. “Fuck, no, I did not. Never. I have seen it several times but I have yet to experience it myself. But I am happy right now. I have you, I have Pieck. Romantic love is not something I need right now. You, on the other hand, think you just have me which is completely wrong. You do not have to like yourself to let others love you, Eren. I hate that stupid fucking saying of someone else cannot love you unless you love yourself. That is complete bullshit. I have seen more people who hate themselves while their partner loves them more than anything. Fucking internet self help books.”

“You had me and then you lost me.”

Zeke sighed, “you are a fucking idiot but you still have friends who love you. You still have a girl who would take on the world for you. So stop being a fucking idiot and talk to her. Get your friends back. Get your life back. Do something.”

Eren sighed.

He knew Zeke was right.

“And have you eaten something?” Zeke asked.

“Yes, I had lunch.”

“And you did not burn the house down? I am proud of you.”

“Don’t you have patients?”

“Food poisoning, remember?”

“All of them?”

“No, I already had my morning appointments. I only had one this afternoon.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Be there in an hour.”

“Fine….”

-----------------------

Mikasa watched as Hange tried the training exercises for Sawney and Bean.

PING!

Eren Jaeger:

Yeah, we should meet up. Zeke is going to move some stuff tomorrow. 4:00 pm sound good?

Mikasa Ackerman:

Okay. I’ll see you then.

Eren Jaeger:

I’ll be here.

#mmtylif #my writing

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magnoliasinbloom · 4 years

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Crash Course Love

In between classes (which I’m still doing online with my lovely 7th graders, no sarcasm), here’s another chapter of these two fools. And it’s looooong!

As always, infinite thanks to @anna-swims and @lcbeauchampoftarth for being awesome betas.

AO3 :: Previously

9: Lallybroch [Jamie]

“We’re here,” I said, glancing through the Jeep’s windshield.

“Oh, wow. I didn’t think the ride would feel so… short,” Claire said, peering up at the house. It was kind of intimidating, I supposed; a giant stone manor in the middle of rolling fields. Like something out of a fairytale.

Except the wolves were waiting inside, ready to pounce on us.

“Are ye nervous?”

“A little. I’ll be fine.” She turned to me and gave me a smile, shouldering her black purse. I smiled back and ducked out of the Jeep to open her door. Claire climbed out, stepping carefully. “Wait! The flowers!” She turned to the backseat door and pulled out yellow lilies wrapped in butcher paper and tied with a silver ribbon. Slamming the door behind us, we walked up the steps to the door.

I wondered if we should hold hands to make it seem more realistic. When I’d picked her up at her flat—my eyes darting around like mad in case Annalise appeared—and I saw her dressed up, I’d wanted to reach out and take her hand immediately.

We had driven over in comfortable silence. Claire had mentioned she didn’t know what to expect from lunch, so she’d had a small breakfast—more Weetabix. I laughed when I thought of the amount of food Mam always cooked. She commented occasionally on the songs from my Spotify playlists, and we kept up an easy conversation.

My hand was halfway to the doorknob when my mother appeared, and immediately engulfed Claire in a hug. I stood there like an idiot while my mam practically suffocated her; all I could see of Claire was her bewildered expression over my mother’s shoulder.

“Um, hello?” Claire managed.

“Oh, Christ, I’m so happy to meet ye, Claire! Ye are Claire, aren’t ye? Oh, do come in, ye must be freezin’! Can I take yer coat? What’s this?” My mother interrupted her gushing welcome as Claire tried to press the flowers into her hand.

“Aye, Mam, good to see ye too,” I grumbled, leaning in to kiss her cheek. Completely ignoring me, she patted my back and turned to Claire once more.

“They’re just flowers, you know, as a thank you for the invitation,” Claire stammered, blushing. She gestured with her hands as she spoke, clearly nervous. “Sorry I didn’t bring a vase.” My mother hugged her again tightly.

“They’re beautiful! Ye shouldn’t have!” Mam sniffed the lush blooms and ushered us further into the house. I trailed behind them, all but forgotten. I took off my own coat and followed them into the living room.

Mam was introducing Claire to my Da, William, and Jenny. My siblings, in turn, presented each of their partners. Jenny lost it completely and practically hurled herself at Claire in a vise-like hug. Claire couldn’t seem to lose the bewildered expression when confronted with the whole Fraser clan at once.

“Jenny, let the poor lass breathe,” I called out. I gave my Da a one-armed hug and clapped William and Ian on the back. I gave Jenny a gentle shove to get her to release Claire, which she returned twice as hard. “Ifrinn, Janet, that could bruise!”

“Jamie, language!” Mam warned. She led Claire over to Mary, who gave her a peck on the cheek and a warm smile. Jenny glanced over at me and gave me a discreet thumbs-up. I rolled my eyes at her approval.

“Where are the children, Jenny?” I missed the sounds of my rambunctious niece and nephew.

“Oh, off with Ian’s parents this weekend. Give us a bit of a break, ye ken.”

“When’s lunch then, Mam?” William asked.

“Will ye leave anything for the rest of us, Willie?” Ian joked, leading Jenny into the dining room. They both traded quips and insults while everyone made their way to the table.

“Here, Claire, sit next to Jamie.” Mam pointed out her seat and raised her eyebrows at me. I immediately stood behind the chair and held it out for Claire. She sat with a soft murmur of thanks. Da took his seat at the head of the table and winked at Claire, who smiled back and seemed more at ease.

“I’ll just bring the dishes in,” Mam called over her shoulder as she walked to the kitchen.

“Can I help with anything?” Claire asked, half-rising from her chair. Jenny and I both reached out to stop her.

“Nah. This is my mam’s thing. She doesna like for people to interfere with her cookin’. Even if it’s just servin’ it,” I said, while William nodded in agreement and stuffed a roll into his mouth.

“Really?” Claire looked around the table. Da leaned over to explain about Mam’s love affair with cooking, engaging her in conversation.

Mam came in with multiple dishes and trays, all laden with meat, chicken, salad, fresh bread, ham, and vegetables. It was all artfully arranged, in true accordance with her Cordon Bleu education.

Everyone dove in, while Claire watched in horrified fascination as food was served. I reached for her plate when she showed no inclination to dig in herself; she regarded me gratefully when I got her a bit of everything, unsure of what she’d like.

There was no silence at the table. Forks and knives clattered on dishes and conversations sprang all around. Mam gave Claire the third degree about her life; she tried to answer as politely as possible around a mouthful of food. Da insisted Claire call him Brian and asked about her flower shop, being somewhat of an amateur gardener himself.

Finally, after everyone had eaten their fill (and then some), my mother moved in for the kill. “So, Claire, how did ye and Jamie meet?”

Claire looked at me, and I nearly choked on the last bite of carrots. “Um, well…”

“It was at a coffee shop. She spilled her drink on me and offered to buy me another.”

“Yes, that’s it. And then we got to talking and exchanged numbers—”

“I asked her out and she said yes, that was a few weeks ago, and now here we are!” I added hastily.

My mother seemed on the verge of spilling joyful tears and Da positively beamed. Claire squeezed my hand under the table while we regrouped.

“Mrs. Fraser, everything was delicious. Could I help you clear up, make some tea or coffee?”

“Dear, please call me Ellen. And no, ye may not make the coffee, ye are our guest! Let's leave the dishes to the men, shall we? Ladies, care to join me in the living room?”

“Should I be worried, do you think?” Claire asked as she looked at my mother and the women.

“I think I’m the one who should worry,” I muttered, as Jenny and Mary pulled Claire away from me. Next thing I knew, Mam would pull out old photo albums of me with braces or as a toddler in the bath.

I was dragged into the kitchen to help wash up. The rule was, since Mam cooked, the rest of us had clean-up duty. Seemed only fair—except my mother used a ridiculous amount of kitchenware and appliances which had to be left spotless again. I kept my hands busy scrubbing away, until William sidled up to me.

“Sawney, a brathair,” Willie said, using my old nickname and clapping me hard on the shoulder. I jerked and he laughed, mussing up my hair.

“Stop it, ye eejit, I’ll break something,” I growled, spraying him with water.

“Well, I can certainly see what ye saw in Claire, she’s lovely,” Da commented, setting empty glasses next to me. I felt a twinge of guilt.

“Aye, Jamie, she’s grand,” Ian agreed, leaning against the kitchen island. “Ye look good together. Ye have a real connection.” I couldn’t tell from his tone if Jenny had appraised him of the truth.

“Have ye slept with her yet?” Willie asked.

I dropped the glass I was rinsing and it bounced in the sink with a clatter. I turned to gape at William, who was grinning.

“Willie, that is none of yer business!” Da chided, glaring at his firstborn.

“Arsehole,” I mumbled under my breath. Ian cleared his throat behind me.

“We understand if ye dinna want to tell us, it’s yer private life and—”

“I’m not telling ye anything about my sex life, aye?” I finally said, chucking the scrubbing sponge at Willie’s head. “And you!” I turned to Ian. “We could hear ye and Jenny in yer room at Christmas last year, and man, for Christ’s sake, it’s my own sister!”

They both had the good grace to look abashed for a moment, before offering apologies and heading back to the dining room for more dirty dishes. Da frowned, but said nothing.

I fetched the sponge from the floor and got back to scrubbing a frying pan before he spoke up.

“So Jamie, lad, are ye being safe?”

- - -

In the living room, Claire was perched on the big couch, with a photo album on her lap.

“Jamie, these pictures are amazing. Your mum has saved all these memories of you,” she commented, obviously delighted with the albums. Fortunately, Mam had updated the technology and newer photographs were stored in ‘the cloud’.

“Aye, she keeps one for each of us, full of birthdays, Christmases, all of it,” I said, casually claiming the space next to her. Claire bit her lip for a moment, misty-eyed. Having lost her parents so young, I didn’t imagine she had much in the way of photographs. A peek at her expression confirmed it. I touched her hand lightly in sympathy and she smiled.

“You’re lucky, you know. To have all of this. Your parents, your brother and sister.”

“I do know. They seem to really like ye, too.”

I realized that my family had left the room, and there was only Claire and me, our hands touching on our laps. I turned to look at her, and I could catch her scent—something like growing green things and jasmine. That strange spark from the coffee shop surfaced again, vibrating in the empty room, and I felt the urge to lean in and kiss her like I had almost done before. I was drowning in her amber eyes and they seemed to get closer and closer…

“Oi, it’s snowing!” William called out suddenly, and Claire and I sprang apart in shock.

The family all crowded around the windows in the living room, watching fat flakes fall in a white flurry.

“Well, the roads will be impassable,” Da said with a frown.

“There’s a snow storm headed this way, according to BBC,” Ian commented, scrolling on his mobile.

“Och, weel, ye’ll just have to spend the night here,” Mam said briskly. “Ye can sleep in yer old rooms.”

Ifrinn! Share a room with Claire? My parents would expect that? A hint of panic welled in my chest.

“Oh, Mrs. Fraser,” Claire began, glancing at me with worry in her eyes, “I can take the couch right here. If you have a few spare blankets—”

“It’s Ellen, dear, and please, dinna be silly! We’re all adults here. Ye can sleep wi’ Jamie in his own room.”

- - -

A/N: Hope everyone is staying safe and healthy out there! Thank you for your likes, reblogs, and comments - they mean the world. <3

#outlander #outlander fanfiction #jamie and claire #CCL9 #and there was only one bed #!!!!!!

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takemeawaytocamelot · 7 years

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Red Jamie and the White Lady - Part 24

I’m so pleased to have been able to write and polish this chapter in time to post it this week! Thanks to my AMAZING helpers @diversemediums and @outlandishchridhe who have helped me map out these Gifts and figure out how all this works. I’m still so amazed at the responses I’ve gotten from all of you for this series and can’t wait to take you on the rest of the ride with me!

Catch up on chapter 23 HERE and make sure you’ve read the letter Willie wrote Jamie just before he died, which you can find HERE

Claire began drawing invisible patterns on Jamie’s chest, trying to decide how to bring up her next topic.

“What do you plan to do with Fergus?”

“Keep him wi’ us.”

“We’re keeping the orphaned pickpocket?”

Jamie sat up to get a better look at her, studying her face.

“Weel I canna set him on the streets of Paris. That’s no’ fair to him. And… I promised that I’d take care o’ him. He’s a child, Claire.”

“Yes, but you caught him while he was following me. How are you so sure we can trust him?”

Claire listened as Jamie relayed Fergus’ colorful history to her.

“And,” Jamie said, wrapping up his explanation. “He canna return to Bonnet. I’ve never met the man, myself, but I dinna trust him. No’ after what Fergus has told me about him.”

She met his eyes, electric blue and swirling slowly.

“I suppose you’re right. And you’re sure he’s not a spy for Bonnet? Until today, I’d never even heard that name before.” Claire put her palm on Jamie’s chest when he looked ready to get defensive. “I’m not saying we can’t take him with us or give him a home here. I’m just making sure you’ve thought this through.”

Jamie sighed, rubbing her back absently.

“Aye, I ken you’re lookin’ out for us. But Fergus told me he didna want to work for Bonnet in the first place. Gave me his word that he wouldna turn us over to the man and I choose to believe him.”

“What does Bonnet want with you?” she asked tentatively.

Jamie’s mouth compressed.

“From what I understand, he’s a member of the government branch lookin’ for me. Fergus said Bonnet is the man in charge and they’ve been huntin’ me for a long time.”

“And you haven’t Seen him before?”

Jamie shook his head.

“No. Whenever I Look for him, I usually get shadows or the backs of heads. No’ enough to identify a man. I havena had a name to Look for either. That makes things difficult.”

“Will you Look right now?”

Jamie shook his head.

“Nah. Bonnet doesna ken where I am. He canna track Fergus now either, so he’ll be left wandering about Paris.”

Claire nodded and relaxed.

“Alright. If you trust him, then I trust you.”

Jamie settled her more comfortably against him. They sat in silence for a little while, simply enjoying each other’s company.

“Jamie?”

“Hm?”

“I was just thinking… about the onset of Gifts. When we were at Lallybroch, you talked about eleven being an early age.”

“Aye,” he replied, tone encouraging her to continue.

“It's just… how this works. Gifts, I mean. The different sorts, the ways in which the person can use them, the manifestation around the age of puberty… it's just… fascinating.”

“Do ye have any theories?” Jamie asked, looking down at her, heart squeezing as she bit her lip in thought.

“Well, to me, it seems like the brain is the control center. Which is plausible because the brain is the control center for the body so why wouldn't Gifts originate there? The limbic system is a series of connections that controls our responses, emotions, personality… I wonder if there's something about us that is predisposed to Gifts. If they are bound to manifest all along or if they are triggered by circumstance.”

Jamie made an amused Scottish noise.

“What?” Claire asked, looking up and seeing his grin. “Don't tell me you haven't thought about this.”

“Oh, I have. Countless times. How. Why. In the end, I stopped torturing myself and accepted the Sight as a part of me. I may no’ know the reason but I made the choice to help those that I could with my Gift.”

They both ignored the unsaid for as long as I could.

“Is that why you had the shop? To help people?”

Jamie sighed.

“Aye. I couldna stand the running anymore. I needed purpose.”

“I bet Murtagh was thrilled,” Claire replied, grinning.

Jamie snorted.

“I didna tell him, the first time. He walked in on me doing my ‘fortune telling’ to a bachelorette party. I had to tell the bride to mind her betrothed,” he said with a grimace. “I swear Murtagh’s beard fluffed up like an angry cheetie when he saw what I was up to.”

Claire shook with laughter, imagining all too well Murtagh’s response to such a scene.

“Good to see you've always been stubborn, then,” she teased, laying her head on his shoulder.

“Oh aye. Stubborn as rocks, we Frasers.”

Claire let out an amused noise, then they settled into silence again, listening to each other breathe.

“What’s it like?” she asked, squeezing his hand. “To See? How does it work?”

“Ye mean when I Look, what is it I do?”

“Yes. How it feels. What you See.”

She sat up, the diagnostic glint in her eye making Jamie smile.

"Clearly you have some control when you're awake. Raymond has me working to figure out how I make my Gift work. And mine occurs along side yours. Maybe the way you See is a clue to how I Heal."

"There's an idea," Jamie said, shifting himself up to sit more comfortably against the headboard.

"Aye well, yer right, I can control what I focus my visions on. In the beginning.."

Jamie paused at the memory of his first vision. He glanced at her, hesitant, and she squeezed his hand. Clearing his throat, he continued.

"In the beginning, they sort of… took over my senses. I was surrounded by whatever the vision was. I couldna pull myself out. I kent of the Fraser Gifts, of course but…”

He stopped, shrugging.

“I’m sure it's hard to grasp what it's truly like,” Claire said softly.

Jamie nodded.

“Aye. That still happens sometimes, when I sleep."

“Do you dream?” she asked. “Real dreams, I mean. Not visions”

Jamie furrowed his brow in thought.

“Ye ken, I’m no’ sure. I think so but… mostly, I see vague images. Not strong visions but… I suppose I’d say they're like dark shadows. Things I could See if I wanted, were I to move forward.”

“I used to,” he added looking down at her. “Then the side effects of my Gift began. No matter where or how the Gift originates, there are inevitable boundaries in science and magic.”

Claire shivered, feeling the gooseflesh rise on her arms. Jamie rubbed her arms and kissed her forehead.

“Aye, well. I was fortunate to have my family around me. To grow up knowin’ what could come and what to do. I’ve kept those lessons wi’ me.”

Claire watched as he pulled away and reached down, trying to pull something out from under the mattress.

“What have you got there?”

“Da taught Willie to keep a journal of the things he Saw, no matter when he had the visions. Willie was good at makin’ sure I did too.”

“I remember seeing dozens of journals in the library at Lallybroch.”

Jamie nodded, setting the worn leather book on the bed between them.

“This isna one o’ mine. It’s Willie’s, since mine are locked up safe at Lallybroch. Murtagh wanted to bring it wi’ us so he could be sure to find the right man.”

“Why write it all down? I would think visions of the future would be something you wouldn’t want on paper.”

“Weel, that’s a point, Sassenach. But there’s more to it than that. We keep them at Lallybroch for a reason.”

Claire wiggled until she sat in a comfortable position.

“What else is there?”

“It’s easier to talk and understand things when they’re written down. Willie and I… We used to share our journals all the time. There were visions I didn’t share wi’ him, like when I Saw him die. But we shared almost everything else.”

“Willie knew everything you Saw?”

Jamie nodded, opening the journal.

“Christ I’ve no’ looked at this in…” He took a breath and kept turning the pages. “He and Da would talk about what they Saw. Always write it down when it’s fresh, so ye dinna forget a bit. Taught us to never worry about what it means until later.”

“You must miss them,” Claire said, looking at the neat handwriting on the page.

“Aye. Verra much. I kent… I kent what would happen to Willie and…”

Jamie paused, swallowing as he flipped through the pages of the journal.

“Oh Jesus,” he said, nearly dropping the notebook when he reached the end.

“What is it?” Claire asked, worried at the expression on his face.

She leaned closer to see what he'd found. On the inside of the back flap near the binding was a small drawing. Jamie ran his thumb delicately over it, slowly following the curved form of the tiny etched snake.

“Sawney,” he whispered.

Claire touched his shoulder and he looked at her, eyes churning dark blue. His mouth curved a little as he looked at her.

“Sawney is a play on Alexander, Sassenach. It's what Willie used to call me. I could never say it right as a wee lad. I’d always say ‘Sssssawney’.”

Jamie chuckled.

“Willie used to poke fun and say I sounded like a wee snake,” he said quietly.

Claire smiled, kissing his shoulder as she looked down at the little drawing again.

“What's that?” Jamie asked, sounding surprised.

He bent the notebook outward, stretching the inner binding to reveal what looked like a small hidden pocket with a tab sticking out. He pulled carefully, extracting a piece of folded paper that was hidden there. “Sawney” was written on the outside.

“Jesus…” Jamie said blankly, hands shaking slightly.

Claire squeezed his arm in support. He looked at her in acknowledgment before unfolding the paper.

“Oh God,” he whispered, voice breaking.

The words on the page seemed to jump out at him as he scanned it frantically. These were truly Willie’s final thoughts. Memories of that day flitted through his mind, bringing the pain with them.

True to form, Willie did his best to set Jamie’s mind at ease from beyond the grave. For most of his life, Jamie had carried the guilt of Willie’s death. He’d never told anyone how much it had weighed on him, but Willie knew. So he’d done everything in his power to find a Healer for Jamie, someone who would be able to keep him alive.

One of the things Jamie regretted the most about Willie’s death was never saying goodbye. He’d Seen it happen, and still hadn’t been able to say what he wanted in time. But here, in his hand, were the words unsaid. Willie had said goodbye in his own way and given Jamie the closure he’d needed.

Willie did always ken what to say to me when I needed him, Jamie thought soberly. He was incredibly grateful to have Claire beside him; his new rock and shelter in this stormy life.

“Rest in peace, brother,” Jamie said softly, staring down at the page.

He splayed a hand over the letter, trembling fingers not quite touching the precise scrawl that adorned the pages. His breath caught and Claire immediately wrapped her arms around him, murmuring soft things and stroking his hair as he went quietly to pieces, letting the guilt and shame leave him after all of these years.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #red jamie and the white lady au #jamie x claire #takemeawaytocamelot #diversemediums #outlandishchridhe

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