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[iwanttodriveyouthroughthenight]

“I have lived through a fucking world war,” I said, my voice low and venomous. “I have lost a child. I have lost two husbands. I have starved with an army, been beaten and wounded, been patronized, betrayed, imprisoned, and attacked. And I have fucking survived!”

[iwanttodriveyouthroughthenight]

Life goes on.

Set immediately after 05x12 “Never My Love”

He held her for a very long time. Breathing. Gently, carefully stroking her shoulder as she buried her face in his neck. Together they listened to the rain.

“Are you cold?” he whispered into her hair.

Carefully she inhaled, then exhaled deeply. His fingers dug into her hip.

“I’m hungry. Can you get me something to eat?”

He kissed her forehead. “Of course. What would ye like?”

Slowly he pulled away - so as to not startle her. Gently brought the coverlet up over her shoulders. Quickly tied the plaid around his hips, not bothering with a shirt. Knelt at her side

She closed her eyes, her hair swirling and storming on the pillow. “Missus Bug made extra bannocks this morning - one of those please.”

“Aye. Do ye need anything from yer surgery?”

She sighed. “The salve Marsali made for my wound - it should be on the counter next to the microscope. That too, please.”

He kissed the back of her hand. “Do ye need any more of the penicillin? I’ll inject ye, just tell me where.”

Her eyes opened. A smile ghosted across her lips.

“No, the doses I’ve already taken should do the trick.”

He squeezed her hand. “I’ll be right back.”

She watched him pad away, bare feet whispering against the floorboards, the criss-cross scars of his back catching the candlelight as he turned away to step across the threshold and bolt the door behind him.

She knew he didn’t need to do that, of course. But her cracked heart mended just a bit more, knowing he did it to protect her. To make her feel safe.

With great effort she sat up against the headboard, letting the coverlet pool around her bare waist. Running her hands up and down her bruises and cuts.

Still she didn’t know where that blind courage had come from tonight. As he had every night since bringing her home two weeks ago, Jamie had helped her undress, brushed her hair, settled into bed beside her, atop the coverlet and twelve inches away. 

“Do ye want me to read to you?” his voice was so soft.

She shook her head. “I want to listen to the rain fall on the roof you made for me.”

Her hand had crossed the coverlet, then. Twining his fingers through hers. Instinctively his thumb traced the tendons on the inside of her wrist.

Don’t think, she had told herself. Just feel. Do.

“Will you lie with me, Jamie?” Her voice was so small. Why did she speak so formally?”

He rolled onto one side to face her. Face blank with shock. “I - Claire - are you sure?”

She jutted out her chin. Acting more brave than she felt. “I need to. I need to know whether I still can, with you.”

Gently, tentatively he traced her jawline with his thumb. “Tell me what to do,” he rasped.

Then she sat up, and shrugged out of her shift, and did not try to cover her nakedness for the first time since he had brought her home.

Three raps at the door - Claire jolted back to the present, watching Jamie re-enter the room. Heart soaring that he had knocked to let her know he was coming in.

Within a minute he had slid under the coverlet beside her, gently rubbing salve onto the wound on her breast.

“Thank you for letting me care for you,” he whispered. “I want you to know, Claire, that even though this will leave a scar, every time I see it I willnae think about how you got it, as long as you promise to do the same.”

Claire chewed a bannock, fingers flitting over the round scar on his left side, and the almost-faded bullet scar on his neck. “I don’t, when I see these. I just think about how glad I am that I was there with you, to care for you.”

He set the jar of salve on his bedside table. “To help me heal, aye?”

She nodded, and held out the last bite of bannock. He ate it, kissing her fingers.

“Can we stay in here tomorrow, just the two of us?”

His brow furrowed. “Are ye no’ well, then?”

Her eyes shone, hands finding his. “I want you here, with me, all to myself. With the door locked and the window open. Can you manage that?”

He swallowed, and nodded. “I can. For you, I can manage anything.”

She shifted closer to him, and pulled his plaid over her shoulders. Sealing them in a pocket of warmth. He eased her onto his lap, and she wound her legs around his hips as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

The rain pattered on the roof, and their hearts beat in time with it and each other. Safe from the storm.

[iwanttodriveyouthroughthenight]

        Are you alive?                                You are alive.                                      𝟹𝚡𝟶𝟷   | |   𝟻𝚡𝟷𝟸                    ➺ 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗯𝗼𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 @𝗴𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗺-𝗿𝘂𝗮𝗶𝗱𝗵  

[iwanttodriveyouthroughthenight]

I dinna have the words…

↳ inspired by

[iwanttodriveyouthroughthenight]

I hadna thought of you as grown. Had ye in my mind somehow as a wee bairn always—as my babe.

[iwanttodriveyouthroughthenight]

When you think your OTP isn’t together:

When you find out your OTP IS TOGETHER:

[iwanttodriveyouthroughthenight]

Proud Da, Jamie.

[iwanttodriveyouthroughthenight]

Uncle, ye ken this old coot? Aye.

[iwanttodriveyouthroughthenight]

[iwanttodriveyouthroughthenight]

Ah, Lass

[iwanttodriveyouthroughthenight]

Fortitude

“…she has a great deal of fortitude. She’s a healer. She’s seen war and plague. Couldna do it without her” 

The scene with Jamie and Governor Tryon is so refreshing. 

Jamie is constantly thinking about Claire and honoring her as she is. There is something to be said about a man who deeply respects a woman. He often possessive when it comes to her - “my wife,” “mine”  - but he sees her. He knows her. He is proud that she is a healer and recognizes that it is not just a profession for her. It is who she is, it’s her DNA. 

Her fortitude continues to astound him and keeps him on his toes. That he is in awe of her is obvious. But that he openly shares his need of her and his admiration of her fortitude is what distinguishes him as a man. His vulnerable masculinity coupled respect and awareness of his unconventional wife is what makes JAMMF such a desirable character.  

[iwanttodriveyouthroughthenight]

 “My country, ‘tis of thee,

         sweet land of liberty,

                    of thee I sing.”

[iwanttodriveyouthroughthenight]

1x16 | 4x01

(requested by anonymous)

[iwanttodriveyouthroughthenight]

“Jamie, please! Don’t go; you can’t be part of this!” “Hush.” He laid his hand on mine and squeezed hard. His eyes held mine and kept me from speaking. “I am already part of it,” he said quietly. “It is my aunt’s property, her men involved. Mr. Campbell is right; I am her kinsman. It will be my duty to go—to see, at least. To be there.” He hesitated then, as though he might say more, but instead merely squeezed my hand again and let me go.

“Then I’m going with you,” I spoke quite calmly, with that eerie sense of detachment that comes with awareness of impending disaster. His wide mouth twitched briefly. “I did expect ye would, Sassenach.

[iwanttodriveyouthroughthenight]

Now we’re penniless. Wouldn’t be the first time.

[iwanttodriveyouthroughthenight]

the Celtic Prayer for Grace

As published in the Carmina Gadelica by Alexander Carmichael, 1900

I am bending my knee In the eye of the Father who created me, In the eye of the Son who died for me, In the eye of the Spirit who cleansed me,     In love and desire.

Pour down upon us from heaven The rich blessing of Thy forgiveness; Thou who art uppermost in the City,     Be Thou patient with us.

Grant to us, Thou Saviour of Glory, The fear of God, the love of God, and His affection, And the will of God to do on earth at all times As angels and saints do in heaven; Each day and night give us Thy peace.     Each day and night give us Thy peace.

—

ACHANAIDH GRAIS 

TA mi lubadh mo ghlun An suil an Athar a chruthaich mi, An suil a Mhic a cheannaich mi, An suil a Spioraid a ghlanaich mi,     Le gradh agus run.

Doirt a nuas oirnn a flathas Trocair shuairce do mhathas; Fhir tha ’n uachdar na Cathair,     Dean-sa fathamas ruinn.

Tabhair duinn, a Shlan’ear Aigh, Eagal De, gaol De, agus gradh, Is toil De dheanamh air talamh gach re, Mar ni ainghlich is naoimhich air neamh; Gach la agus oidhche thoir duinn do sheimh,     Gach la agus oidhche thoir duinn do sheimh.