Claire had told him once that she'd been haunted by the memory of him for the twenty years they'd been parted. That had been true enough for him as well, but the pain ran so deep that to say her memory haunted him isn't nearly enough to convey the magnitude and depth of his pain. He'd known, or been sure of it anyway, that she'd made it to Frank, that their bairn was born hale and happy. He couldn't have begun to fathom what Claire's life would actually look like with Frank, and he certainly hated pondering it even for a moment because he couldn't bear the thought of anyone else touching or kissing his wife.
But he had faith that she was well, that she was loved. He carried the memory of her everyday as a comfort, but it hurt to breathe when he thought of her as well. He may as well have been dead, but she would have wanted him to live, and that was what kept him going through the long, very dark days and nights that made up his ensuing years without her.
Then she'd returned, and it was the greatest gift he could have ever imagined. They'd had to figure out how to be together again, after so much time apart, but their love held true as it always had. It had changed, matured, but it was just as strong as ever. And now, he finally had the chance to make a home for his wife, his family, in a place that already had his heart. The future was uncertain, save for the surety of imminent war, but he couldn't be happier regardless.
He goes to sleep with his wife, in their makeshift dwelling near where he's building their home, and when he wakes, he finds himself on a familiar patch of grass. He's worried for a moment when Claire isn't safely draped across his chest, but as he stands and looks around, it's quickly clear to him that he's returned to Wonderland. He's in the gardens, a place he knows he's likely to find Claire if she's not in their room, her clinic, or elsewhere. By perfect timing, perhaps, he sees her at a distance, crouched over her herbs, and he has to simply watch her for a moment, his heart swelling with love at the sight of her. But his arms already ache to hold her again and he calls out to her.
CLOSED for Claire
But he had faith that she was well, that she was loved. He carried the memory of her everyday as a comfort, but it hurt to breathe when he thought of her as well. He may as well have been dead, but she would have wanted him to live, and that was what kept him going through the long, very dark days and nights that made up his ensuing years without her.
Then she'd returned, and it was the greatest gift he could have ever imagined. They'd had to figure out how to be together again, after so much time apart, but their love held true as it always had. It had changed, matured, but it was just as strong as ever. And now, he finally had the chance to make a home for his wife, his family, in a place that already had his heart. The future was uncertain, save for the surety of imminent war, but he couldn't be happier regardless.
He goes to sleep with his wife, in their makeshift dwelling near where he's building their home, and when he wakes, he finds himself on a familiar patch of grass. He's worried for a moment when Claire isn't safely draped across his chest, but as he stands and looks around, it's quickly clear to him that he's returned to Wonderland. He's in the gardens, a place he knows he's likely to find Claire if she's not in their room, her clinic, or elsewhere. By perfect timing, perhaps, he sees her at a distance, crouched over her herbs, and he has to simply watch her for a moment, his heart swelling with love at the sight of her. But his arms already ache to hold her again and he calls out to her.
"Sassenach!"