Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Outlander

Rated M for language, sexuality, and violence.

Enjoy

Craig na Dunn, Scotland, October 31, 1743...

Reva Nighthorse rubbed her forehead as sunlight filled her vision. She groaned as she sat up. Her head throbbed and her face scrunched up as unfamiliar smells filled her nose. The air was colder than it was before she lost consciousness. Reva touched her head and found she was no longer wearing her hat. She stumbled to her feet and her equilibrium leveled out. She turned in a circle, scanning her surroundings. She abandoned her wrap and bolted out of the circle. Her instincts were going haywire. She reached the bottom of the hall and slid to a stop. "What?"

The road. Her car. It was gone. "What the fuck?"

She scanned the area. There were more trees than before and the grass was taller, but she recognized the area. The road should've been there. She bolted in the direction the road should've come from. The farther she ran, the more confused and angry she grew. She never got lost. Never. And she felt like she wasn't even in Scotland anymore. She stopped and leaned on a tree. She had a deep urge to scream, to howl. "What the fuck is going on?" she whispered to herself.

Peter! The thought of her fiance, his smile and dark blue eyes appearing in her mind. She opened her mouth to howl, but the loud bang of a gunshot pierced the forest silence. She turned to the west. The sound was sharp, but not like a typical gunshot she was used to hearing. She heard voices long before she actually saw them. A man appeared at the top of the small hill. His face was mostly covered in hair. The man aimed a strange looking gun. "A bhalagai!"

He fired the gun and took off. Another man came into view, he wore a thick red coat and an officer's hat. Reva widened her eyes. She had seen plenty of movies and pictures. She had seen that type of costume before. The red coat held a rifle and suddenly aimed it at Reva. She dropped out of view just as the man fired. The bullet hit the tree. Reva pushed herself off the hill and broke into a run. She could hear the red coat man giving chase, and other men joining him. Reva increased her pace, easily outrunning them. She heard them continue firing their rifles. A bullet grazed her arm. Reva cried out but kept running. She hurried down a small cliff and turned around a large tree. She came to a halt upon seeing someone kneeling down beside the creek. The stranger wore the same red coat as the men chasing her. The man perked up, his dark eyes studying Reva from head to toe. Reva did the same. In the mix of the stench of his sweat, she could smell his natural scent. Or rather, supernatural. The man stood up. "Madam?"

Reva's instincts flared. A sudden feeling to flee began to grow in her gut. She took a step back. "Who're you?"

"I'm Jonathan Randall, esquire," he answered, his eyes looking over her strange clothes. "Captain of his majesty's eighth dragoons. At your service. And you are?"

Reva deepened her frown as the man raised his eyebrows. Reva turned on her heels to bolt back up the cliff. Randall lunged forward. He reached out and grabbed onto her arm. Reva pulled free and turned to face him, roaring. Her eyes blazed an inhuman yellow and her fangs were bared. Randall took a few steps back in surprise. "You're...like me?"

His eyes glowed a cold, bright blue. Reva said nothing, her eyes still glowing. Randall smirked at her. "Who are you?"

Reva's eyes returned to their natural black color and she ran off again. She slipped through a space between the cliff and the tree. Randall pulled his sword out and blocked Reva's path with it. She leaned back, going under the sword. Randall grabbed hold of her neck and shoved her against the cliff wall. She felt pain spread through the back of her head from the impact. "Who are you?!" Randall demanded.

"Let me go!"

"Madam, you will find my patience is not infinite." His blue eyes returned to normal. "You'll be well advised to tell me exactly who you are and why you are here."

Reva raised her knee and kicked his chest. Randall's grip slipped and he flew back near the creek's edge. She dropped into a crouch. Randall got back up, growling, and charged. Reva ducked the swipe of his sword, aiming to get away. Randall threw his sword down and latched onto Reva's arm, right where the bullet grazed her. Reva cried out, pain flaring through her body. She was unable to fight as he pinned her against the cliff wall again. "Tell me who you are!"

"Let me go, you bastard!" she shouted back at him.

"Ah...the language of a whore." He forced his hand down between her legs.

Before Reva could do anything, someone flew from the top of the cliff. A bearded man wearing plaid slammed his fist into the side of Randall's head. Randall fell to the ground in a heap, knocked out. The bearded man turned to her and held his hand out. "Trobhad!"

"What?"

"Trobhad!"

He ushered her forward. Reva hesitantly took his hand. He dragged her over to a tree as more red coats began approaching. He pulled her into his arms, trying to keep her hidden. Reva pried his arms apart. "Hey! Get off me! Get off me!"

The man whipped out his knife and slammed it into the back of her head, where her injury was still bleeding. Reva's vision grew black as consciousness left her. The last thing she heard, was the sounds of the red coats closing in.

Outside Craig na Dunn, later...

Reva groaned as she raised her head. Her neck was slightly sore and her whole body rocked. Her senses readjusted and she realized she was riding a horse. She scrunched up her nose from a foul smell. The bearded man was behind her, and his arms were around her, holding onto the reigns. They reached a small house, and the bearded man dismounted. He pulled Reva off the horse by her arm and dragged her inside the house. Reva simply obliged, unsure of what else to do. The man shoved the door open. Inside, several other men were gathered around a fire ring. As the bearded man spoke Gaelic, Reva took the time to examine the men. They were all bearded, smelly, and dirty. She also noticed the bald man called her chaperone "Murtagh."

The bald man grabbed Reva by her arm and pulled her closer to the fire. He grabbed her where her sweater was ripped, she could feel his rough, calloused skin on her arm. "Let's have a look at ye, then, lass."

Reva pulled her arm free, glaring at the bald man. While there was still blood . He studied her clothes: dirty jeans and a soaked, oversized sweater. "What's yer name?"

"Reva," she said.

"Ye say 'Reba'?" he asked.

"Rey-va," she corrected. "Reva Nighthorse."

"Reva Nighthorse," the bald man echoed. He turned back to Murtagh. "And what was she doing when ye found her?"

"Aye," Murtagh said, crossing his arms. "She was having words with a certain Captain of dragoons with whom we are acquaint. There seemed to be some question as to whether the lady was or was not a whore."

"And what was the lady's position in this discussion?" the bald man asked her.

"I'm not a whore," she said sternly. The bald man frowned at her, perplexed by her accent.

"We could put her to the test," another man chuckled.

Reva growled at the man. All of them did a double take, frowning in confusion. The bald man exhaled in annoyance. "I don't hold with rape."

"Dougal," Murtagh said, addressing the bald man. "I've no idea what she be or who...but I'll stake my best shot she's no whore."

"We'll puzzle it out later," Dougal said. "We've got a good distance to go tonight. And we must do something about Jamie first."

Dougal and Murtagh led the men over by the fireplace. Reva met the gaze of the other men as they studied her, noticing her tight jeans. They gathered around another man sitting by the fire. She sniffed the air, a smell of pain standing out to her. Curiosity got the better of her, and she took a few steps forward. Murtagh moved, unblocking her view. A man sat on a stool with his shoulder contorted in an unnatural way. Dougal gently touched the young man's arm. "Ye can't ride with it like that, can ye, Jamie?"

"Hurts bad enough sitting still," Jamie said through gritted teeth. "I couldna manage a horse."

"I don't mean to be leaving him behind." Dougal stood up straight. "There's no help for it, then. I'll have to force the joint back."

"Aye," Jamie agreed.

Murtagh and another man grabbed onto Jamie. Dougal grabbed Jamie's arm. Reva's eyes widened in realization. "Stop!"

She hurried forward, but one of the men pulled out a large knife. Reva stopped and looked over at Dougal. "You're going to break his arm. His shoulder has to be at the right angle first."

Dougal nodded and the other man put his knife away. Reva carefully approached Jamie. His shirt was pooled around his waist. He had fierce red hair that seemed to be alight in the brightness of the flames. His eyes were a beautiful blue and full of hard pain. Reva gently grabbed his wrist. His face scrunched in agony for a second then subsided. Reva breathed a soft sigh of relief that the sweater hid her arms, her veins which sucked away his agony. His pain was like a knife cutting directly into his nerves. Reva took a deep breath, keeping her wolf eyes back. She didn't want these strangers knowing what she really was. "How did this happen anyway?"

"Slipped and rolled down a steep hill," he said as she lifted his arm. "Gah! Ah!"

Reva twisted his arm around, getting the shoulder into the right angle. "You naturally clumsy?"

"Clumsy?" he frowned at her, trying to think through the pain. "I don keen what ye mea-AH!"

Reva shoved his arm upwards. The joint slipped back into it's natural place. Jamie widened his eyes in surprise. "Taing Dhia! It doesna hurt anymore."

"It will," she said. Reva glanced at the man who pulled the knife on her. "You. Get me some bandages or a belt."

"'get me', she says." The man laughed, looking at his friends. "Do ye hear the lass?"

"Give her your belt, Angus," Dougal ordered.

Angus pressed his lips together until his mouth disappeared into his beard. Reluctantly, he unbuckled his belt and shoved it into Reva's hand. Jamie allowed her to take control, placing his arm against his chest. "Taking a guess ye've done this before...?"

"I'm a certified EMT," she said. "As well as a combat medic."

"A what?" He glanced at Dougal quizzically.

Reva sat back once she finished tightening the belt. "A first responder," she answered. She glanced at the others, all of them giving her blank stares. "You guys seriously don't know what that is?"

"Guys?" Murtaugh's frown deepened.

Dougal took a single step forward. His gaze boring into Reva's. She met his intimidating gaze. "Who are ye?" he asked with a low tone. "Where are ye from?"

Reva clenched her fists, keeping herself composed. "I told you. My name is Reva Nighthorse."

"I keen." He took another step towards her. "I've never heard yer accent before. Where are ye from?"

Reva didn't let her panic show. The past several hours had been causing a terrible tightness in her gut. She had suspicions that while she was in Scotland, she wasn't exactly in the same place as she was before. Finally, she answered him. "Texas."

He narrowed his eyes. "Never heard of it."

"Are ye from the New World?" Jamie asked, breaking the tension.

Reva broke her locked staredown with Dougal to look at Jamie. "Um...yes."

Her gaze drifted to the floor. The New World. His words shook her to the core. Her worst fear was realized. Somehow, she had traveled through time. Something she never thought possible. Dougal harrumphed and his gaze flicked to Jamie. "Can ye ride?"

"Aye."

"Good. We're leaving."

He spoke to the others and they all began gathering their things. Absentmindedly, she followed them outside. Time travel? Time travel?! Reva gazed out over the lake and frowned. "Where is it?"

"What?" Jamie asked, walking up next to her.

"Where's the city?" she asked. "Should be visible from here."

"Inverness?" Jamie gestured to the dark hills across the lake. "Ye're look straight at it."

Reva's eyes widened in surprise. Her worst thoughts had come to light. She questioned the very nature of her traveling through time. Despite everything, she had never heard of traveling through space and time. Dougal suddenly grabbed her arm and led her over to Jamie and his horse. "Ye be sure to stay close to the rest of us. And should ye try anything else, I shall slit yer throat for ye."

"That makes it very tempting to stay."

"Oh, ye're a clever one, are ye?" He mimicked her tone. He shoved her over to the horse. "Gimme yer foot. Give it to me."

Reva obliged and he helped her mount the horse. She slipped in front of Jamie. She had just noticed the rain and brushed her wet hair out of her face. Jamie wiggled behind her, nudging her back with his chest. Reva glanced back at him. "What're you doing?"

"Getting my plaid loose to cover ye," he said, pulling on his kilt. "Ye're shivering."

She turned back to face front. "I'm fine."

Jamie leaned forward, nearly resting his chin on her shoulder. "Ye're shaking so hard it's making my teeth rattle. The plaid'll keep us both warm, but I canna do it one-handed. Can ye reach?"

Reva grunted, but reached over nonetheless. The plaid was large enough that Reva was able to wrap it around her chest. Jamie smirked. "Seo, a-nis."

"What?"

"Don't want ye to freeze before sunup," he said, gesturing to the night sky.

Reva stirred the horse from her suddenly turning to look at him. "You're telling me we'll be riding all night?"

"All night," he confirmed, easing the horse. "And the next one, too, I reckon. A fine time of year for a ride, though."

She blinked through the rain. "Sure. Fine time."

Highlands, November 1, 1743...

Reva deepened her frown as they rode. She stared at the rock formations to to far west. "Cocknammon."

"Hm?" Jamie asked.

Reva blinked into focus, having not realized she thought aloud. "Nothing. I just...I've been here before."

"Have ye?" Jaime glanced up at Cocknammon rock. "It's a bonny place."

"Yeah." Reva turned her attention ahead. "The English use it for ambushes."

Jaime furred his eyebrows, paranoia growing. "Do they, now? Are ye sure about that?"

Reva nodded nonchalantly. Jamie clicked his tongue, urging his horse forward alongside Dougal's. "Dougal! Dougal!"

They spoke in Gaelic. Jaime spoke quickly and harshly. Dougal's eyes grew wide and angry. His gaze flicked to Reva. "Now, ye'll be telling me exactly how and why ye come to know there's an ambush up ahead."

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I heard about-"

"Where did ye hear?"

Reva paused and exhaled sharply. "In the village."

Silence befell the men. It was broken by Dougal shouting a warcry. Jaime threw Reva off the horse. "Hide yerself!"

Reva fell to the ground in a heap and rolled down into some bushes. She got up on her hands and knees, watching the men ride off towards Cocknammon. They shouted in glee as gunfire began to erupt. Reva crawled back and took off. She didn't know where she was going. She had an undeniable urge to run the opposite direction of the fight. However, she didn't get far. As soon as she came upon the trail they passed, Jamie reappeared, blocking her path. "Lost yer way?"

He dismounted. He held his sword in his hand. Reva crouched down, her eyes fixed on him. She noticed he was no longer wearing the arm sling and his right shoulder was covered in blood. "I'm surprised you're not dead."

Jaime flashed her a half-smile. "This isna my blood. Not much of it, anyway. Dougal and the others will be waiting further up the stream. We should go."

"No!" Reva turned on her heels, building momentum in her legs to run. Jaime rushed forward, latching onto her arm before she was out of his reach. His strength surprised her as he pushed her against a tree. "None of that, lassie! Ye're coming with me."

"I'm not!" she snapped.

"Yes, ye are!"

Reva searched his eyes, seeing the fierce determination. Despite his harsh gaze, she could sense a kindness to him. "You gonna kill me if I don't?"

"Why no, but...," he paused to frown, "ye donna look that heavy. Now, if ye won't walk, I shall pick ye up and throw ye over my shoulder. Do ye want me to do that?"

Reva narrowed her eyes, and a smirk escaped her lips. "I'd like to see you try."

The Stream...

Reva pouted as Jamie steered the horse towards the bank of the stream where the others waited. She fumed as she argued internally with herself. How could a human overpower me? It should've been easy: throw him off and run. Instead, he held onto her and managed to keep her pinned. Jamie grunted in pain and Reva harrumphed. "Serves you right. Probably ruined your shoulder."

"Well, wasna much of a choice," he argued, a hit of humor in his tone. "If I dinna move my shoulder, I'd never have moved anything else ever again. I can handle a single redcoat with one hand. Maybe even two. Not three. Besides, ye can fix it for me again when we get to where we're going."

"As if."

"Here's to ye, lass!" Rupert proclaimed. He steered his horse closer to Reva and Jamie, holding a whiskey pouch. "For tipping us to the villains in the rocks and giving us a wee bit o' fun!"

Rupert tossed the pouch to Jamie who took a swig in celebration. He held it out in front of Reva, offering it. "Have a wee nip."

Reva said nothing. Jamie sighed and said more softly, "it willna fill your belly, but will make ye forget ye're hungry."

She gave in and took a sip of it. The whiskey burned her throat. But her metabolism kicked in, and she felt a faint buzz before it was gone. She took another sip and gave it back to Jamie. He continued cheering with his companions. She gazed out at the woods that surrounded them. Her heart raced in panic. She fiddled with the diamond ring on her left ring finger. It was simple and somehow, remained clean. Dougal ordering the group to continue on snapped Reva back to reality. Jamie wrapped his arms around her and grabbed the reins, snapping the horse forward.

That night...

Reva shifted in the saddle as Jamie leaned forward. She kept pushing back against him. "Would you get off?"

He grumbled in response. She glanced back and noticed his eyes were closed. He leaned forward again. His forehead hit her shoulder and his whole body began to slide. "Hey!" She reached her arm out to stop him from following. "Hey! Stop! He's falling!"

Everyone stopped, but as soon as the horse did, Jamie slid off. He landed on the ground in a heap. Reva hopped off the horse and Murtagh ran over to help Jamie up. Reva checked Jamie's person. Feeling his head, his arms, his chest...which was very firm, and paused at his right shoulder. "Gunshot wound."

She peeled his collar back, finding a hole in the flesh of his shoulder. She checked his back and sighed in relief. "Clean exit. Probably no shrapnel. It doesn't seem serious, but he's lost a lot of blood."

"Ye know what to do?" Murtagh asked.

"Yeah. I'll need to disinfect it, and find some clean bandages." She paused for a moment. "Which I'm sure none of you have."

"Disinfect?" Murtagh asked, furring his thick eyebrows.

"Yeah." She rubbed her forehead with her arm. "You know...clean it, kill any germs."

"Germs?" Rupert echoed, frowning at Angus.

Reva growled, shocking the men. She pointed at Rupert. "Gimme your whiskey. I need it!"

Rupert tossed it over. The men mumbled amongst each other in Gaelic. Reva opened the leather flask and poured the whiskey directly onto the wound. Jamie stirred suddenly. "Tha mi gasta!"

"Great. You're alive." She poured some more down on his back wound.

Jamie shook his head. "I'm all right. Just a wee bit dizzy."

"No, you're not. You're lucky you're not dead!" she snapped. Reva sat back and pulled her arms inside her sweater. Jamie and Murtagh deepened their frowns as they watched her wiggle under her large sweater. Her head disappeared under the sweater then, she popped back out. She pulled a cream cami out from under her shirt. Jamie watched her rip it up into strips. "What kinda shift is that?"

"Shut up!" she slapped his hand away. She grabbed the top her cami, trying to rip the shoulder straps off. "God damn it! Ugh, fuck! Finally."

"I've never heard a woman use such language in my life," Dougal muttered in shock as Reva began wrapping the cami strips around Jamie.

"Yer husband should tan yer hide," Rupert suggested. "St. Paul says-"

"Mind your own fucking business, will you?" She shot Rupert a nasty look and turned her glare to Jamie. "And you. If you move a single muscle, I will throttle you...violently."

"Aye. Threats, is it?" Jamie leaned back a bit. "After I shared my drink with ye."

"We are not friends," she grumbled as she tied the bandages.

"We've got 15 miles to go," Dougal said as he paced. "Five hours at least, if not seven. We'll stay long enough for ye to stem the bleeding and dress his wound, no more than that."

"What? Are you craz-hey!" Dougal continued on to his horse, ignoring her. She clenched her fists and struggled to calm herself down. Jamie placed his hand on her arm, and she whipped around. "Easy, lassie. I mean ye no ill will."

"Whatever," she rubbed her forehead. "These last couple days keep getting worse and worse."

"Randall, the office ye...encountered." He hesitated on choosing the right word. "He won't give up so easily. He commands the redcoats...and he'll have sent patrols out in every direction by now. I canna stay here long. We canna, I mean."

Reva studied him as she wiped up the excess blood. "Jonathan Randall...you know him?"

"Aye," he said and nodded. "I wonna risk ye or anyone else being taken prisoner by that man. If ye canna fix me up well enough to ride...ye'll be leaving me here with a loaded pistol."

She pursed her lips. "You could've told me you were shot earlier."

"Dinna hurt much at the time," he admitted.

She harrumphed and got up. Jamie stretched out his hand, and she helped him stand. His hand lingered on hers. His grip was strong yet gentle, and his skin was calloused. "Thank ye, a gràidh. Truly."

"a gràidh?" she echoed carefully. "What's that mean?"

Jamie gave a mischievous smile. "Nothing foul. I promise ye that, lass."

end of Chapter 1