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imagineclaireandjamie · 6 years

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Chain Of Command

Anonymous said: I️ really miss your COC and The Getaway fics. Will you be writing soon? I️ am also loving your art. You must be an amazing person.

Thank you, Anon. You’re way too kind to me. Have some CoC <3 MBD

Strapping wee Fergus to her chest, Claire made sure that he could suckle should he want to under the cover of the sling she’d mocked up. Jamie had been up and away quite early, leaving Claire to find her own amusement and she’d decided that she wanted to get back to work. Tired of being stuck upstairs on bedrest she was ready to escape.

Sneaking downstairs, Claire’s sweat drenched hands clung to the banister as she descended. If she ran into either Jenny or Ellen she was finished. But luck was on her side. The big house was seemingly empty on the main floor, the fire lit in the sitting room seemed simply to be there to warm the dogs more than the household. Bran, the largest of Lallybroch’s canines, had curled himself tightly on the hearth and it didn’t seem like he’d be moving anytime soon. Claire smiled as she strode passed the hairy beast. He was supposed to be the guardian of the house, but he was the softest creature she’d ever met.

Curling close to her breast, Fergus scrunched his eyes closed and nuzzled Claire’s warm skin. He liked the motion of her movement, she could tell by the way his breath came in short sharp pants, fanning across her chest. It soothed her to know that he was comfortable enough swaddled as he was.

Opening the door to the upper kitchens, Claire walked with purpose passed the few staff that were busy cooking lunch. None of them would question her, but she didn’t stop to find out, instead she continued her journey downstairs stopping only when she reached the end of the largest preparation areas. Grabbing an armful of potatoes, she started peeling, using the small knife that Jamie had gifted to her directly after their wedding instead of one of the kitchen knives.

Glancing over at her, Mrs Crook gave Claire the once over but kept her mouth shut.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Claire whispered, sensing familiar eyes on her, “but I don’t want to be isolated anymore. It’s lonely up there by myself.”

“Alright,” Mama Crook answered, her tone purposefully light as she continued to hand pick the ripe vegetables from the basket for the evenings stew. She knew better than to argue with Claire but she had a feeling that it wouldn’t be long before a familiar Fraser came in search of his wife.

Claire had nearly finished peeling the enormous pile of potatoes before footsteps echoed from the small concealed staircase. She ignored the pounding of her heart as she began to chop the spuds into smaller pieces. Claire had been honest when she’d spoken those few words to Mama Crook. She was lonesome upstairs in her rooms. With this in mind, she pursed her lips and rocked Fergus as close as she could get him. Knowing Jamie would likely be more that a little put out at her dissent, Claire rolled her shoulders and prepared herself for a tongue lashing.

As predicted Jamie came storming into the kitchen, his cheeks stained red, his hair standing on end with stray pieces of straw sticking out of the side of his muddied shirt.

“Claire,” he began, hovering over her with a quirk to his eyebrow. Sliding one finger beneath her chin, he lifted her head so that she was forced to make eye contact. “I ken ye wanna work, lass, but ye’ve no’ long had the lad. Come, please?” He pleaded with no malice in his tone.

Taken aback by his immediate softness, Claire wiped her knife and placed it back in her sock before taking his hand, bowing her head in defeat and following him back up to their quarters.

Just as when she’d arrived earlier, none of the other lassies spoke or addresed her and before she knew it, Claire was back in their rooms surrounded by the warmth of the relit fire. Licking her lips she adjusted herself so that Fergus could feed once more, her arm cradling him to her breast as he suckled audibly.

“This isn’t forever, you know, Claire…” Jamie began, an air of apology to his words, “only whilst Fergus is wee.” “You don’t understand, Jamie,” Claire returned, her patience wearing a little thin now she was cocooned upstairs once more. It felt claustrophobic. The heat of the fire spread around her as her arms came up to wrap around her tiny son who’d neatly fallen asleep, her nipple still on his mouth as he suckled on and off in his sleep. It was shocking that he was still so dinky considering the amount that he fed.

Jamie watched, his eyes focused solely on Claire as he watched her shoulders sink as her hands came to cocoon Fergus. She was the perfect mother; nurturing and kind but brave and steadfast with it. He could attempt to make decisions for her and she’d bow to him eventually, but she’d resent him for it too.

“No,” he acquiesced “I dinna think I do…”

Claire stood stunned. She knew she was right though she hadn’t expected him to agree with her so easily. Jamie was nothing if not stubborn.

But he loved her and he saw her for who she truly was. Claire had been raised primarily between Mrs Crook and Ellen, his own mother. She was a product of a completely female upbringing and had been expected to forge her own path once she was old enough to see over the preparation tables in the kitchen. Having fallen hard and fast for Jamie, she had carried the burden of her feelings alone for so long. Independence was her armour, a shield she wore with pride and he would be foolish to try and erase that part of her.

Jamie had fallen in love with Claire; with her intelligence, with her energy, with her life and with her free spirited attitude - curtailing those would only dampen the spark that burned so brightly betwixt them.

“I’m lonely without you, without anyone - up here I’m isolated,” she began, seeing Jamie so ready to connect with her now. He was listening, so she would speak honestly. “I had to before, shield myself from everyone - even from you. But now we’re married I don’t have to, Jamie, don’t you see?” Jamie cocked his head to one side, his eyes soft in the dim daylight that streamed through the frosted glass of their windowpanes.

“I don’t want to be locked away in some ivory tower, Jamie. Swaddled tighter than wee Fergus because you think that’s the best way to protect us both. *You*,” she said, her passion rising as she rocked Fergus to and fro, “get to go outside. You can talk to your da...to Ian Murray and the other lads who work the fields with you. Aren’t I allowed the same freedom?”

“Aye,” Jamie whispered, nodding his head in time with his words. “Ye are, Claire. I could-”

“No,” Claire cut in, certain of what he was about to say next. “It isn’t just about company. It’s about being busy, too. I need something to keep my mind active, to keep my hands engaged.”

Pointing to the sling wrapped carefully around her, Jamie replied; “Ye made that yourself then? To help ye wi’ your chores?”

“Yes,” Claire said, her chin raising as she swayed on her heels, “I made it. Knowing he can’t be away from me, I wanted something that meant I could have my hands free whilst keeping him close and this solves that issue. He can feed too, come and look?” Beckoning him forwards, she moved some of the thick reams of cloth away so that Jamie, his tip-toed movements bringing him closer to Claire and Fergus, could see his dozing son clearly.

“...and he’s safe?”

“Of course,” Claire scoffed, “safe and warm...and *fed*,” she added with great mirth. “It’s like he’s back inside me, see…” she was pointing to the way he lay, his body twisted around hers, on his side but flat against her belly as if curled back in the womb. “He likes that, liked to think he’s enveloped within me once more. He doesn’t stir at all, only to feed and even then he’s quiet as a dormouse.”

Brushing his cheek with the back of his hand, Jamie ran a thick but clean finger over his son’s warm skin before leaning across to kiss Claire gently. “Would ye like to come out with me one day, mo nighean donn?” He asked softly, his voice a whisper as he breathed in the scent of her. “You can work and have my company. I dinna think I like sharing ye with the staff - no’ when I have to spend my time away from you and I dinna truly have to.”

Claire laughed as she wrapped her arm around Jamie’s waist bringing him flush against her. With Fergus sleeping between them she listened out for all three of their combined heartbeats before replying. “Yes, Jamie,” she returned in a sigh, her finger tapping against the hollow of Jamie’s back in time with each thrum, “I would absolutely love to.”

#Anonymous #;Mod MBD #Chain of Command #jamie x claire #featuring: fergus #Headcanon Fergus

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god-damn-it-miranda · 7 years

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Familia

Summary: After moving to New York to escape what happened in Jamaica and Philly, Ruben thought he was home free. No one knew him there, it was a fresh start. But within his first few weeks, he’s approached not once, but twice by two different people who think that he’s someone else. And he can’t help but feel a little curious as to who this Usnavi character is.

Word count: 2360

T/W: Minor threats of violence

A/N: Requested by (I think??) @marianara-sauce (this request is so old and I never made a note of who requested it...

New York certainly isn't Jamaica (though to be honest he isn't sure he ever wants to set foot on that island ever again), but it's far enough away from Philly that Ruben feels he can relax a little bit. Sure there are still many nights where he wakes up screaming, thrashing to try and free himself from his covers, but he's slowly figuring out how to deal with them.

He finds a job in a local community college, and shortly after finds himself a small apartment just a short walk away. His new apartment building is just on the edge of a small neighborhood called Washington Heights, and while the apartment is small and the AC doesn't work, he's happy there. It's his place, no one can tell him what to do there. No one even knows he's there. His mother knows he's somewhere in New York, but she doesn't have any details. And Jason...god he doesn't want to even think about Jason.

He knows that the man is miles away, he knows that Ian’s gone, and he knows technically he isn’t in any more danger. But he still refuses to actually go outside unless absolutely necessary. Apartment, to bus, to class, then back on the bus and a mad sprint up the stairs to the safety behind his locked door.

And for the first while he is completely content doing just that, scurrying about outside in a complete panic, only really relaxing when he’s back in the comfort of his own apartment. He can’t help but feel like Jason’s going to stroll into his life at any moment, demanding something from him. The very thought sends a shudder down his spine and he doesn’t get out of bed for several hours, the covers pulled over his head and his pillow clutched desperately to his chest. As if the lumpy feathers could do anything against the voices and the memories and the idea that Jason (not Ian) is still out there.

After a month of this routine, Ruben finds himself sitting on the fire escape outside his window, legs dangling over the three-story drop. It’s cooler outside, especially with the sun just starting to sink below the horizon. For the first time in days he’s completely calm, content to simply watch people go by. Two boys stroll past, laughing and shoving each other before vanishing around a corner, their chatter still echoing around the street. Washington Heights, while fairly busy during the day seems to come alive with a new spirit when the sun went down.

Music drifts across the street from open windows, and the various scents of Caribbean cooking waft through the air. It’s then that Ruben realizes that he hadn’t eaten all day. To his surprise, he finds himself reluctant to climb back into his apartment. Though to be fair, it was still ridiculously warm in there. Never the less, he climbs awkwardly back in through the window, stumbling as he stubs his toe on the edge of his coffee table. With a curse he makes his way to the kitchen, freezing as he opens the fridge. Empty.

Crap.

He takes a few minutes to rummage through his cupboards, but the contents are just as disappointing as the fridge. All he’s got is a pack of stale saltine crackers, and while that might have worked any other day, tonight he was actually hungry. Pity he had no idea what sort of food was available in the neighborhood. He bounced on his heels, looking from the door to the crackers, and then back again. A quick trip out couldn’t kill him, right?

Besides, he thinks, no one knows I’m here. No one knows who I am. Just…just a guy getting some food.

With that thought circling through his mind, he pulls on his shoes and steps out of his apartment, triple checking that it was locked behind him. Better safe than sorry. Within seconds he finds himself out on the street, and once again stops, looking around helplessly. It hits him then. He has no clue where anything is. He knows how to get to the bus stop and that’s about it. And now he’s standing in the middle of the sidewalk like an idiot, rocking uncertainly on his heels. He debates going back inside, then decides against it. This is the first time he’s worked up the courage to go outside for anything other than work, he wasn’t going to turn and hide again.

Eventually he stumbles upon a little hole in the wall restaurant that looks relatively clean and is run by a little Dominican woman who reminds him a little of his own mother. It’s incredibly comforting to be honest. He finds a table in the corner and forces himself to just relax and eat. Ian’s not here, he keeps telling himself, there’s no way he’s ever coming back. His head snaps up as the bell above the door dings and two women speaking impossibly fast Spanish enter, their laughter cutting through the air and despite himself Ruben smiles along with them, though he has no idea what they’re talking about. Someone named Yolanda? He’s not sure.

The women don’t actually notice him until they’re leaving, at which point they smile widely and wave. Ruben can only stare back at them in absolute confusion, tilting his head and frowning slightly. To his horror, the two women cross over to him but don’t sit.

“Usnavi, niño travieso. I thought you were at the bodega tonight. Wait until Vanessa hears about this one.” The taller of the two says, resting her hands on her hips and pursing her lips.

“Uh…who?” Ruben manages to say, his voice shaking ever so slightly much to his displeasure. The women blink and turn to look at each other before looking back down to him, both now frowning in confusion.

“Uh…Dani? I don’t think he’s Usnavi.”

The taller of the two – Dani, he assumes – cocks her head a little more and steps closer, eyes widening after a moment.

“Aye dios, you have a point.” She says, taking a step back and offering an apologetic smile. “Sorry, we thought you were a friend of ours.”

Ruben manages a weak smile and shrugs it off with a faint mutter of ‘it happens’, and finally the two women leave the restaurant, once again chattering away with one another. Ruben watches them go before turning his attention to his half-eaten dinner. Well, there was lunch for tomorrow.

The next week passes without any incident. The same old routine, day in and day out. Run for the bus, triple check the locks, sit on the fire escape when the apartment gets too hot, make sure the plants get enough water and aren’t about to dry up in the summer heat. His normal, safe routine where nothing is supposed to go wrong. Until it does.

00o00

It’s a Friday, he’s just finished teaching intro to chemistry at the community college, and all he wants to do is sleep. He hadn’t slept well the night before, dreams of Ian and Jamaica haunting him and making it almost impossible to actually get to sleep. All day he’s been out of sorts, walking into doors and walls a little more often and forgetting what he was talking about halfway through the lecture. The only thoughts running through his mind as he steps off the bus are about his bed. He’s so lost in fantasizing about his heavy blanket and soft pillow that he doesn’t notice he’s taken a wrong turn until there’s a tight grip on his shoulder and everything grinds to a halt.

“Alright buddy, easy does it.” A voice says, uncomfortably close, and all Ruben can think is Ian’s here, Ian’s found me and I’m going to die. He doesn’t speak though, freezing completely as the hand leaves his shoulder and a slight figure with a hat pulled low over their face circles round to stand in front of him. It’s not Ian, but Ruben can’t quite make his brain fully understand that. The figure’s mouth is moving, and it takes him a moment before he understands. Wallet. The kid wants his wallet.

He fumbles in his pocket for it, hesitating and staring at the black leather for a moment. It’s not like he’s really strapped for cash, he’s still got some of the drug money from Oz, but he would really rather not lose the forty dollars that’s in his wallet. The guy in front of him is eyeing the leather as well, and eventually grows too impatient.

“You stupid or something? I said hand it over!” He’s shouting now, and Ruben can’t help the slight step back he takes, his heart hammering so loudly he’s surprised the guy doesn’t hear it. His hands are shaking as he goes to hand over the wallet. Just before he has the chance to actually hand it over, there’s a shout from behind him and someone running up. The would-be thief pales and turns on his heels, racing down the street and vanishing around a corner.

“Yo, you alright ‘Navi?” Again, there’s a hand on his shoulder and Ruben whirls around, eyes wide and panicked.

“Wh-what?” He stutters, tremors going through his whole body. The new arrival, a larger man with a buzz cut looks down to him with a slight frown.

“What, that guy hit you on the head or something? Usnavi, come on you know this place is full of punks like that.”

There’s that name again. Ruben has no idea who this ‘Usnavi’ guy is, but he seems to be incredibly popular in this area. Popular enough for…whoever this is to come to his rescue.

“I-I’m uh not…” He trails off, clenching his hands at his sides and clenching his eyes closed. The guy looks down to him for a moment before nodding.

“I don’t wanna hear it. Come on, let’s get you back to the bodega.”

“I don’t know who Usnavi is.” Ruben manages to say, taking a step back and wrapping his arms around himself. It’s getting harder to breath, and every noise on the street is making him jump. He wants to run but he can’t make his feet move.

“You don’t…oh, oh shit sorry man.” The guy says, noticing Ruben’s discomfort and taking a step back, giving him room to breathe. “Hey you doing okay? You…you going to be okay to go wherever you were going?”

Ruben wants to say yes. He wants to be able to walk back to his apartment without an issue and just drop into bed like nothing happened. But he can’t bring himself to move, can barely bring himself to shake his head. The guy frowns a moment, watching him before offering a small, reassuring smile.

“You want me to walk you back?”

And to his surprise, Ruben nods.

00o00

It’s early, and he has no idea what day of the week it is. He hasn’t slept in days, hasn’t left his apartment. He hasn’t even gone out onto the fire-escape. And then he finds that he can’t stand to be inside any longer. The sanctuary he’s built suddenly feels too small, like the walls are inching in towards him. The heat inside is unbearable, but sitting on the fire-escape doesn’t do much to help. He needs to get out.

The sun isn’t up yet and he’s walking the streets, hands tucked into his pockets and eyes glued to the ground. He isn’t really sure where he’s going, until he catches a whiff of coffee on the breeze. He perks up at this, and follows it to a little corner shop that, surprisingly, is open. He hesitates outside the door before pushing his way inside, flinching as the little bell above the door rings.

There’s a kid in a tank-top, his hat on backwards stoking the shelves at the front. He barely glances up as Ruben enters, instead turning to shout towards an open door at the back.

“Yo ‘Navi! You got a customer!”

“How do you know it’s for me?”

“Because no sane person is awake this early without your famous café con leche.”

‘Navi? Ruben frowns, tilting his head slightly. There’s that name again. He glances up as a young man wearing a bright red shirt steps out of the back room, stretching his arms up over his head before pausing slightly at the sight of Ruben.

The two stare at each other for a moment, one wide awake and practically bouncing on his feet, the other hunched over and exhausted. The kid in the tank-top eventually peaks up over the display, jaw dropping as he looked between the two.

“Yo, you never told me there were two of you!” He said, bounding around the corner and circling Ruben curiously. “He’s like…Usnavi 2.0!”

“Jesus…Sonny, go sort the trash or something.” The guy, Usnavi, says, rubbing the palm of his hand over his eyes. Ruben simply stars at him while the kid grumbles and slips off without another word.

“So…you’re the guy who’s been running around the barrio looking like me.” Usnavi says, and there��s no anger in his voice, just simple amusement. Ruben blinks and cautiously follows him to the counter, keeping a step back just in case.

“And you’re the guy everyone keeps mistaking me for.” He says, smiling weakly. Usnavi laughs, and the sound is bright and cheerful, and Ruben can’t help but smile wider.

“You know…your friends seem like really nice people.” He says after a moment, blinking as Usnavi sets a steaming cup of coffee down in front of him. And he means it. He hasn’t had many friends in his life, and even fewer who would have rescued him from thief without expecting anything in return. “You’re a lucky guy, Usnavi.”

“Well…when you live in the Heights everyone kind of becomes family after a while.” Usnavi says with a slight shrug, leaning on the counter and tilting his head curiously. “Now…Just who are you? Because I think it’s going to get confusing for everyone if they think there are two of me running around.”

And again, Ruben can’t help but smile warmly.

#In the Heights #Do No Harm #Ruben Marcado #Let Ruben be happy #Usnavi de la Vega #I guess this is kinda based off Sophia's thing?#idk I think we both got the request at the same time #she just wrote it a lot faster than I did...

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