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2.13 ║2.11  “Red Jamie won’t get far, but… but you. I can save you, and I will.” 

I’m a dead man already, so I choose the battlefield. No. Then I will stay here with you. No, no, you won’t. At the witch trial, if I’d have gone to the stake with Geillis, would you have left me? Left you? I would have gone to the stake with you, to hell and beyond, if it had gone to that, but I wasn’t carrying your child. You can’t know that. It’s much too soon. It…

If Claire Went Through The Stones - Part 2

Previously: Part 1


It broke him to his core, to watch her disappear, to have his home and his heart ripped from his grasp. He knew that her leaving was inevitable, and that she didn’t belong here, with him. But what hurt the most, was that he never got to say goodbye. He never got to tell her of how he was a better man because of her. Or how much she changed his life for the better. He would never forget her, for she was the love of his life, and would be the only one who he ever loved.


I had tried so hard to fight against it, falling in love with Jamie. Yet, it was the most powerful thing I had ever felt in my life, and something told me that fate had pushed us together. Who was I to get in the way of that? I had to go back. But first, I had to tell Frank. He deserved to know, at the very least.


I received many looks and sideways glances as I made made my way to Reverend Wakefield’s estate. I don’t know how long it had been since I’d been gone from this time, if no time had passed at all, or if it ran linear. I supposed that the Reverend’s house was the best place to find Frank. I’m sure Mrs. Graham would be delighted hearing all about my recent adventures.

I had expected to be so nervous I could hardly move, but when I reached the doorstep, the only thing I felt was calm.

“Claire!” An excited Mrs. Graham exclaimed as she opened the door and pulled me into a hug.

“Where have ye been? Ach, come in!”

I should have felt at home, at peace now that I was back in my own time, but I didn’t. My home was with Jamie and I belonged to him, as he did to me.

“Thank you, but i’m afraid I can’t stay long. Do you know where Frank is, by chance?”

“Yer no going anywhere until ye tell me just where ye’ve been! Frank… He left for Oxford about a week ago. Been lookin’ for you ever since.” He had given up, a few weeks ago knowing that would have destroyed me, but I had moved on as well.

“I promise I will explain everything, I just need to speak with him.” I insisted as she practically forced me inside.

“Who is it Mrs. Grah-” The reverend began but froze as soon as he laid eyes on me, he looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Hello Reverend. Is there any way you could contact Frank for me? I really need to speak with him.”

His face had gone pale and he looked as if I committed murder in front of him.

“Ye- Yes. Right away.” He had no inclination to stay, perhaps to him, I had left Frank on purpose. Only now I actually would be.


Frank was ecstatic to hear that I had been found, or rather found my way back. He had booked the next train out to Inverness as soon as he’d received the call.

Meanwhile, I had told Mrs. Graham everything about how I fell through the stones and found my way into the Mackenzie clan. How Frank’s ancestor was just the opposite of everything he had imagined him to be. How I married a dashing highlander boy to keep me safe, and how I inevitably fell in love, despite every intention not to. I could tell by the look on her face that she believed every word I had said, perhaps imagining herself in my place. Reverend Wakefield kept his distance from me, he stuck to his office or played with Roger in the backyard. I didn’t mind, Frank would be here soon, and then I could go back.


It wasn’t until the next day that Frank had finally arrived, I think he could sense something was wrong, so he wasn’t as affectionate towards me as he usually was.

“Claire, I’m so glad you’re back.” I could sense the hesitation in his voice, almost as if he knew that I wasn’t here to stay.

I tried my best at a reassuring smile, but as Jamie often told me, my face was glass.

“Frank… I wanted to speak to you because, I can’t stay. I know it sounds crazy and you don’t have to believe me but i’ve fallen in love with another man. in 1743.” I could see his heart shatter through the look on his face when I said those words. Whether he believed that I fell through time, didn’t matter. I had fallen for another man.

“I need you to know that it wasn’t my intention, to fall in love. I tried to get back to you every chance I had, but there was always something that got in my way. I married him so he could protect me, not out love. But that is what it turned into, and i’m sorry Frank. You were once the love of my life, but i’m here to give you closure so you can move on. I still love you, a part of me always will. But I can’t stay.” Months ago it would have broken my heart to say those words, or even the mere thought of leaving him. But here, now, it was no longer my place. I just hoped that I could still find Jamie if-  when I got back.

The rest of the conversation had been a blur, as well as the journey back to the stones. Frank was broken, that much I knew. But he would move on, and get past this. Perhaps find the same love that I had found with Jamie.


I only remember the look on their faces just before I passed through again. Mrs. Graham’s was of fascination and hope. The Reverend of shock and disbelief. And Frank, of heartbreak.

Then oblivion.


Jamie had tried to make his way back to Lallybroch, but he couldn’t. Not without Claire. Part of him knew that she was gone, and that eventually he would have to leave, but another part was still hopeful. If there was any chance that she felt the slightest way towards him as he did her, maybe she would come back. So he waited, where they had spent their last night together two days before. He had tried his best to sleep, his mind often wandering to Claire and the life they might have had together. It was only when his tears ran dry that he drifted to the crackle of the fire and the sound of Donas munching on grass.

On your feet soldier.” He almost thought he dreamed it, but when he opened his eyes, there she was. She came back.

In a moment his lips were on hers and the saltwater of their tears mingled together.

“Claire, I thought you were gone for good.”

“I came back. I had to.”

The smile on his face warmed me to the very marrow of my bones, and my heart surged with joy. God the love I had for this man.

“Claire I need ye so much I can scarcely breathe,” He breathed in between kisses. “Will ye have me?”

“Yes, yes i’ll have you.” And then his mouth was on mine again and we were on the ground. His plaid that had covered my torn bodice was gone, exposing me to him. His mouth drifted down, peppering kisses along my collarbone and my breast. He hurriedly pushed my skirts out of the way and wasted no time sliding home.

I had expected him to go hard and fast, based on how hungry his mouth was for mine. But he moved slow, savoring the feeling, and allowing me to savor it as well. I rocked my hips in time with his, gasping his curls as I felt him throb inside of me. His movements became faster and harder, seeking his release.

My nails dug into his buttocks, grounding me as he came home, filling me.

I love you.” I breathed. 

I like powerful men with equally powerful women, who save each other’s asses because that’s their thing and God help anyone who harms their SO. I like the badass motherfucker with the head bitch in charge, taking over their domain like nobody’s business. I love the story of the hero who saves the world and the heroine who saves him. I love the couples who will burn down the world just to protect each other. That is my aesthetic.

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j e   s u i s   p r e s t.  i  a m   r e a d y.

c: “jesus h. roosevelt christ!”
j: “no, sassenech, just me.”

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“When I asked my da how ye knew which was the right woman, he told me when the time came, I’d have no doubt. And I didn’t. When I woke in the dark under that tree on the road to Leoch, with you sitting on my chest, cursing me for bleeding to death, I said to myself, ‘Jamie Fraser, for all ye canna see what she looks like, and for all she weighs as much as a good draft horse, this is the woman.’”