entrancelogs | + Guilt Runs Deep

[ It's his voice that pulls her out of her sobs for a moment. He's never been here before, he wasn't there, and he's all she wanted in the grief and tragedy of the loss. It wasn't just her baby that died. Faith was his, too, but the fault was hers alone. She reaches for him and then realizes that in this, now, he can finally see their baby.

And so the memory loops as she cries out for her baby, shifting to stand, her shift bloody and stiff at the bottom, the bed soaked with her blood. But Mother Hildegarde gets her settled again and soon, Faith is in her arms and Claire looks at her husband. ]

Jamie, look at her.

[ Her voice is light, soft. There's an out of place smile on her lips, eyes glassy with fever. ]

Look at how perfect she is.

Edited 2019-02-24 20:46 (UTC)

[ Devastatingly, this is the chance he never had. He can see his child. He can hold her. He should want to, even knowing she's not alive. He should want to, because he's wanted to know her face all these long years, but he's frozen for a moment. If he looks at her, if he sees her pale face, her closed eyes, then he won't get to keep that perfect memory of her from his dreams: the one where she's running to him as fast as her little legs can carry her, red curls blown wild by the wind. If he feels her cold skin, if he begs her eyes to open and they won't, he'll truly lose her forever.

A glance at Claire, too, at the sight of her paler features, has him so worried. ]

I canna, Claire.

[ With his protest, the memory continues on, and she speaks softly, eyes focused on their child.

She's beautiful. Ten fingers. Ten toes. Our perfect girl.

[ Every instinct is there, a slow rocking back and forth, breasts that fill heavy with milk for a child that has never taken a breath. Claire's finger strokes that tiny soft cheek, the skin nearly translucent, and she begins to sing quietly. Her voice is rough, hoarse and broken, edged with tears, and when she finishes, she looks at Jamie again. ]

You have to. You have to hold our daughter. Please, Jamie. Please, hold her while you can.

[ As he finds the strength to stand again, Jamie watches his wife while his heart shatters into pieces so small and so jagged, he's not certain it can ever be mended. It's a pain so much different than when Claire first told him; to see his wife dying, to see her cradling, rocking, and singing to their child, opens up a scarred wound anew.

They had healed each other, or so he thought. But maybe nothing had really healed at all. His soul is laid bare, and he's not sure he's even breathing now.

He doesn't want to hold their child. He can't. And he's mad at himself for not being strong enough, because his wife needs him. In the end, it's his wife that draws him closer, his lips pressing to her forehead as he smooths her sweaty hair back from her brow. He's so damn worried about her, and his lips linger against her forehead. ]

Christ, Claire, ye're burnin' up wi' fever.

I'm dying, Jamie.

[ She says it so matter-of-factly, looking up at him, her eyes bright and shining, the promise of infection ravaging her body. Claire instinctively holds the baby closer as if he might try to take her away now, before she's ready. ]

It's my punishment. I asked impossible things of you. Selfish things that shouldn't have meant more to me than you and our child.

[ And in the end, it hadn't mattered anyway. Johnathan Wolverton Randall wasn't even Frank's direct ancestor in the end. It wouldn't have mattered. ]

I lost our baby, Jamie.

[ The loop continues and now, Claire looks up as Louise inserts herself and tells Claire that it's time. With one last kiss to Faith's forehead, Claire gives her over and then falls apart, sobbing uncontrollably, her grief echoing in the cathedral. ]

I dinna ken...

[ His voice breaks, his eyes closing tightly to hold back the tears, but it's a futile effort at best. ] Christ, I nearly lost ye, too.

[ It's not his wife who's done any wrong here, it's him. He can't understand why she's blaming herself when he was the one who wasn't here for his family, who wasn't by his wife's side when she screamed for him, when she nearly died. ]

This wasna yer fault, Claire. Ye did nothing wrong.

[ He's stroking her hair, trying to hold her, trying to pull her out of this somehow. ]

[ She's still too absorbed in it, unable to separate the anguish she feels from the current present. She's hot and bloody and tired, looking at him, letting him hold her, too weak to protest it. ]

I forced you to make a promise to me. I put the man I left for you above our family. I made you promise and then he...Fergus.

[ If she'd only let Jamie kill Randall when he'd wanted, Fergus would never have been harmed. Its her fault. All of it, and she breaks down into sobs again. ]

I want our baby. I want our baby!

[ And so the loop begins again until Faith is nestled once again in Claire's arms and his wife is calmer now. ]

She's so beautiful. She looks just like you. Oh, those tufts of red.

[ Claire looks at Jamie. ]

I need to see you hold our baby.

[ She was never able to see it, before. ]

[ It's the greatest act of cruelty, to force him to watch this again, to see his baby die, to see the moment they pull his dead child from his wife's nearly lifeless body. To watch her scream for their child in a fit of fevered madness, and to be then out of her mind as she cares for their infant as though there were any life left in her at all.

He'd rather be killed now than to watch this a third time. Death would be more merciful, surely.

Ye can't ask it of me, Claire, he wants to say.

It's the punishment he deserves, though. It's the least he deserves, for how he wronged her and their child. He failed her once, and then he failed her again the first time the memory played out. He won't fail her a third time.

So, summoning all the strength he has, Jamie steps forward and takes their lifeless baby into his arms, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears as he cradles her. ]

[ Claire looks so appeased as she looks up at him. She reaches for his hand, urging him down beside her. ]

Do you see? How she favors you?

[ There's a smile now on Claire's face, tears sliding down her cheeks. ]

I've never seen you hold our babies.

Aye.

[ Jamie sits, and despite the fact that their child has never drawn a breath, he still cradles her as though she's fragile. Some of the most precious cargo his arms could hold. Claire had to carry this memory with her, alone for years. The sight of their dead child. Now she won't have to bear it alone any longer, but Christ, it hurts to breathe.

Stroking their baby's cheek with his thumb, a tear slips down his face, landing against her cold cheek as he kisses her forehead and prays over her. He speaks the words in hushed Gaelic:

May the good earth be soft under you
when you rest upon it,
and may it rest easy over you when,
at the last, you lay out under it,
And may it rest so lightly over you
that your soul may be out
from under it quickly,
and up, and off,
And be on its way to God. ]

[ Despite the pain and hurt and fever in her body, Claire pushes herself up with a pained grunt of effort. Sitting behind him, she kisses his shoulder softly. ]

You look good with a baby in your arms, Jamie. Our baby.

[ When his wife needed him most, he was trapped in a jail cell as a result of his own foolish actions. She needed him, she was dying, and absolutely out of her mind with fever, and he wasn't here. He'd known it then, years ago, but it's at the forefront of his mind now and he doesn't know how to fix this. His wife is forced to live through this over and over again, and he's here this time, but he can't fix it even now.

He doesn't speak, not wanting to prolong her delusions, but with his free hand, he does tenderly stroke Claire's hair, trying to coax her to lay back down because he's so worried about her. It's just a memory and they're trapped in it for who knows how long, but he can't help wanting to care for her nonetheless.

When Louise comes back, he hands their baby off to her, and then just immediately wraps his arms around Claire, cradling her close to his chest. ]

[ When her baby is gone, she falls apart against Jamie, sobbing against him and not her pillow. Her fingers clutch weakly, unable to truly grip him for as sick as she is. She sobs until she's limp against him, the heat radiating off of her in waves. ]

I want our baby, Jamie. My body failed you. I was supposed to keep our child healthy and ready to come into the world.

[ And she couldn't. She couldn't. ]

[ There's a cool cloth nearby, and he dabs her neck with it while he cradles her, his lips pressing to her forehead and her temple so soothingly. Then he just strokes her hair, his heart breaking to know how sick she is, and trapped in this endless cycle of self-loathing on top of it.

Gently helping her lay back down, he keeps stroking her hair as he shakes his head. ]

Mo graidh, no. No. Ye dinna fail me or the bairn. This wasna yer fault. How can I make ye believe it?

[ He asks this as his voice breaks, just devastated by the way she's blaming herself even now, after all these years. ]

[ She's so tired, and she hurts so badly. But with Jamie there, she looks up, hearing him. There's a glaze to her eyes. The only good thing about this loop, is that she doesn't come any closer to dying than she already is. ]

I asked...I asked so much of you. Something terrible.

[ He's desperate, leaning in close, resting his forehead against hers. ]

What must I say, mo nighean donn, for you to see there's nothing to forgive?

Why our baby? You were so--so excited about being a father, Jamie.

[ The way he'd plant himself on her belly and talk to it, stroke and try to reach out in some sweet, silly way. Usually by speaking to their child in Gaelic. ]

All you've ever wanted is to be a father.

[ He has it now, with Bree, but God, he's missed so much. ]

To be a father and to be yer husband, Sassenach. 'Tis all I need in life, and I have both.

[ He kisses her forehead, heart aching again to feel how warm she is. ]

Ye must forgive yerself for this, Claire.

I can't. I can't, Jamie.

[ Here is where she would normally begin to cry for their daughter but instead she cries against him. ]

If it wasn't my fault, then it was no one but God's.

[ And that, to her is the impossible thing. She's not even particularly religious, certainly not as much as Jamie. And how can she ever believe now in a God that would do this to someone who wanted their children so badly? ]

No, Claire.

[ He says this firmly, shaking his head, as his fingers continue to tenderly brush her curls away from her face. ]

There's no one to blame. If ye blame yerself or God or anyone else, does it give us our daughter back? What comes of it, punishing yerself? Tell me what I can say, Claire, please. To take this pain from you.

[ And so the loop begins again and she has Faith in her arms, but Louise comes and Claire is in Jamie's arms again. Another loop, more pain. ]

I want to keep holding her but they keep taking her away. I wasn't ready, Jamie, I want her back.

[ He doesn't understand why she isn't hearing him, and he doesn't know what else he can say. He's forgiven her, over and over again. He's never blamed her, but for some reason she believes the opposite. He can't keep reliving this over and over again, and he's begged her now a few times to stop. It's enough to drive him mad, and he can't take it anymore.

Standing up abruptly, he runs a hand over his face, tears in his eyes again, a mixture of sadness, anger, frustration, and desperation. ]

Sassenach, do ye not hear me? Christ, none of this was yer fault. It was me, ye ken it. [ His voice is raised now, just trying to snap her out of this somehow. ] Me, who ran off like a brute to kill Black Jack, wi'out a...wi'out a single thought for my family. It meant more to me to kill him than to keep my promise. I didna care what ye wanted then, Claire, I wanted vengeance, I wanted him to pay.

It was my fault our child died, and it was my fault ye nearly died as well, wi'out me there when ye screamed for me, over and over again.

All of it was my fault.

[ When he yells, it's startling enough to her that the loop, for a moment, pauses. She doesn't begin to cry and plead for her baby. Staring at him, looking up at him, she blinks, in too much shock to do anything else. ]

...What?

[ He has no reason to hope that this horrible memory won't simply start over again, but at least he has her attention again for a moment. ]

Ye heard me, Sassenach. We both ken it was my fault.

Jamie, it wasn't. It wasn't your fault.

[ She lets out a shaky breath and her eyes seem to clear a bit, she looks more focused on him. ]

+ Guilt Runs Deep

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)