Chapter 12: Weather Sheet

Carefully balancing the pisspot's contents, Claire climbed up to deck to empty and wash the container, her movements slowing as she faced the starboard side for the sight that waited for her there. The crew had designated only a small area for use of those ill who needed to get some air as per the on-board doctor, Mrs. Fraser's orders and the little room that was cordoned off by a couple of barrels and sacks was occupied by two men, Jamie and Jack, both being too busy being spectacularly sick over the side to be bothered about being in each other's company.

Claire got rid of her burden and ambled over to sit by her husband's side and put a hand on his cheek sympathetically, "does the ginger tea not help anymore?" It was possible for one substance's effects to wear off if used excessively, "should we try peppermint, or go back to aniseed?"

"Nah, I'll be alright Sassenach," he warded off the concern bravely as if seasickness was something he could go into battle against, "it's just because the seas are too heavy. The ginger, and the body having gotten used to the pitch and roll usually does the trick. If the pattern is anything to go by, in the worst case scenario the weather stays choppy, an' I shall get used tae that too within three days as before," he heartened, bright and confident enough for her not to question it. "I shall stay here though for a bit," his hand gripped the lower rail as they sat, "just to be sure. You don't want people retching down below."

His wife gave him a gentle smile and cradled his neck for a close embrace, hold she stayed in for quite a few moments, both for his comfort and hers, a pleasant state to be and echo of the safety he'd promised when they've first met, word he'd never broken. She allowed herself this moment of weakness, or a moment of gathering strength really, and then she stepped out his embrace the stalwart and resolute as her spirit could be, just one step to the side as it was this far she needed to go to put a hand on Jack's shoulder, who was staring out at the sea, seemingly disregarding them, both hands clutching the rails like iron, his knuckles pale with it. "I do not like it when you stand so close to toppling into the sea, you know that. Either sit like Jamie or let yourself be led down and put to bed," she said firmly with the steady voice she often used with patients.

"You told me before," he agreed, "so much so that not even Mary would suspect foul play if you would give me a little push outwards instead." He peered at Jamie behind her and sighed, "of course it's below his Scottish gentlemanship to do such a thing," he groused sardonically.

"Man, if ye want tae jump, then jump, I willnae stop ye," Jamie declared, though the blind would know he was lying. If Jack's life was in his hands, then he would mean it exactly like that and not giving him an out.

Claire was too startled to do anything else but grab hold of Jack's arm as if just to support him, "come on, sit with me, I need to ask you some questions." She had known he was depressed of course, who wouldn't be in his situation. A life wasted in many ways, paths started that could never be finished, alleys taken that were proven wrong and a state of health that would hardly give him a fair chance to start over. And what could have been the most devastating for him maybe by how Claire conjectured, was that should he have wanted to change his colours back, he would have been in no position, with no power to do so. Just a nobody, with not much worth than driftwood. Or less, cause that wouldn't sink. She could have felt sorry for him, she could, but she would not allow herself to forget the past. "Have you kept down anything lately?" She reached for his wrist for the pulse right after the dehydration pinch test on his fingertips now that she had him sitting down.

He nodded at it half-heartedly, "I was not sick at all yesterday."

"So what brought this on?" Claire continued with counting the heartbeats.

"The weather?" Jack glanced at Jamie in agreement of the other's previous assessment of the wind's effect on their sickness. He must have been listening after all.

"Your stomach hurting any different?" She pressed some fingers to his solar plexus.

"Not more or less or any different," came the matter of fact, seemingly emotionless answer, though that wasn't very encouraging going on how he rubbed his belly after her uncomfortable touch. "There's no need for your attentions," he finished up on a tone that made it clear he was de facto again and not teasing either of the other people present.

"There's no need for your attentions," Jamie pulled closer to repeat Jack's words in Claire's ears pointedly, seeing as how it still irked him that Claire was willing to waste her time on the Englishman with dubious motivations.

Of course she was never for listening to what men wanted, she had her own mind to make up, "I would like to take a look at you properly, I haven't had the chance for the weeks since we boarded. With how your condition has changed since our last encounter, I may still have some ideas on how to help you," she offered.

"I have no more bargaining chips in exchange, or is there something you have in mind?" Jack peered at her suspiciously.

"I have Mary and the child's welfare in mind. As I understand, your funds are not sizable and there will come a time, in the near future, when you will be expected to provide for you family. I'd like to see to it that you are able to," she explained, hoping that it would be acceptable for both of the men present.

"Frank." Jamie grumbled, rolling his eyes. He got himself together to stand and distance himself a little. He was still not happy that he had to make allowances for a man who might not ever exist, but knew that it was never a matter Claire would compromise much on.

"Who the hell is this Frank I keep hearing about?" Jack couldn't help his curiosity.

"Never you mind that," Claire established firmly. Telling him about that could have given Jack ammunition she wasn't willing to provide. "Let's get you down the stairs," she offered a hand, noting his visible paling as he was pulled into a standing position again. Claire held on firmly as he swayed, beyond what the ship's movement evoked.

"My wife is pregnant ye bampot," Jamie would have none of his, albeit unintentional leaning on her. His own nausea or not, he forcefully pulled Jack out of Claire's hold and draped an arm round the ex soldier, "come man," he encouraged mildly, rather surprised by how lightweight and ragdoll-like his burden was.

"Mrs. Fraser, you need to get down here straightaway," one of the sailors called out from the direction of the galley where Mary was helping out, "I deliver no babies in there!" He shook himself as if to shrug off the thought, "the young missus is having the pains and calling for you!"

"It's too early," Claire grabbed for Jamie's support as well, forgetting herself for the moment that she was supposed to be the one at least pretending to be in control of any medical situation. It was due to the fact that she knew first hand how little there could be done in similar circumstances for her own child. She did not want to have to see someone going through that, and herself being reminded of what it felt like, it would ignite her fears about her own, current pregnancy. And there were the implications for future generations as well, Claire could be losing more than it met the eye.

"Leave Jack to me. See what ye can do fae the poor lass," Jamie encouraged, steely green eyes conveying his trust in her, giving her strength. Hesitatingly, she looked back at Jack. His commendation was a nod and hazel eyes appealing to her, way too hopeful for what she could provide. Either way, there was no doubt that he would also trust her with everything he had. Could she disappoint them?

Tbc