From the moment Jamie had awaken that morning, all he felt was numbness. The ever present feeling of emptiness was worse than ever.

He always felt worse whenever sleeping in the house, even if he'd never once entered the Laird's room.

The only reason he did stay in the house that night had been the lad.

He blamed himself for Fergus' encounter with the redcoats on the day before. Damn the kid's stubbornness. Despite not being related to either him or Claire by blood, he took after both of them in pigheadedness.

So when the redcoats left the house, of course Fergus had to go ahead and mislead them to think he'd been actually going to a hiding spot in the woods.

And the moment that bastard soldier had lost his temper and started making threats, the boy started taunting him to no end.

The price had been his own hand. And Jamie had to watch the entire scene unfold, completely powerless to do anything to stop it from happening.

He'd carried Fergus back to the house and watched quietly as he was tended to by a frantic Jenny.

Through every second of the whole ordeal he couldn't keep his thoughts from Claire.

How she would deal with Fergus' injury with that focused healer mode she got in whenever someone needed medical attention, probably cussing the living daylights out of lad for confronting the bloody redcoat in such a careless manner.

All the mothering she would certainly do afterwards, making sure he was as comfortable as possible.

Since sending her through the stones back to her time, Claire and the bairn had been a constant in his mind. Prayers that she and the child had made it safely, and would remain so, occupying every fiber of life he still had after that fateful day at Craigh na Dun.

Whenever he'd think of her, she was always there. After the battle, while he'd recovered from his injuries at Lallybroch, at the cave he'd been hiding in for over a year.

But he'd hardly ever dared to say her name out loud.

It hurt too much.

And after asking about Claire on the aftermath of Culloden and understanding she was gone, neither did his family. No one ever spoke of again.

That was why what had come out of Ian's mouth when discussing with him Fergus' recovery process had surprised him so much.

"My leg, it's not there, as anyone can plainly see." Ian spoke while he poured a dram. "And yet, it pains me terrible sometimes. Even wakes me up at night."

Jamie had heard a number of times about cases like that. When a person lost a limb, but still could feel it as it was there. Pain, itching, those were ghost feelings to those who'd lost a part of themselves.

"Fergus, the lad, he'll likely feel the same with his hand." He continued, limping towards the other chair in the candlelit room. "Feeling a pain in a part of ye that's lost. And that's just a hand."

Ian paused, took a breath, then pursed his lips as if considering whether or not to say out loud what he was thinking.

"Claire was yer heart."

Jamie looked up in that instant, the name of his wife enough to make whatever else was in his mind vanish.

Ian then paused again, looked at his brother-in-law as if he had more to say, but then simply hailed his own glass of whisky, deciding against saying more.

Jamie had spent the night in the house to help with Fergus in any way he could.

Most of the night was spend making sure the lad was comfortable and didn't have a fever, having only finally succumbed to sleep when the sun was almost up.

He had woken with the sound of Jenny scolding the bairns, who were, apparently, causing ruckus inside the house.

He went quickly to the other bedroom to check on Fergus, who was still soundly asleep, and feeling overwhelmed by the events of the previous day, prepared Donas for a ride.

Despite the risks of being recognized even with the dark brown bonnet Jamie wore, he needed to get out of the house, away from the feeling of guilt of not being able to stop that boy whom he'd come to love as a son from being hurt.

Jamie rode for hours non stop, the constant trot of the horse keeping his emotions at bay.

He knew he couldn't stay in Lallybroch for much longer. It was dangerous for everyone, and Fergus being injured the day before only had confirmed how reckless he'd been by staying there.

On the other hand, leaving to go anywhere meant the redcoats never giving his family a rest.

As he'd approached an area where the trees grew more sparsely, he also considered his promise to Fergus. The boy would likely resent him for leaving, but he'd would no doubt be safer.

Jamie had just formulated a plan that consisted on surrendering himself, and at the same time making sure Jenny and Ian got the reward money for his head when he noticed the sound of a gurgling stream nearby.

He'd also noticed the position of the sun in the sky and realized that it was near sunset, reaching the conclusion that he'd been riding for almost ten hours without break.

"Sorry mate. I ken ye're exhausted." He apologized while dismounting Donas, regretful of not being more aware of the horse's need of a break for water and a well deserved rest.

Gently caressing his mane, Jamie gently pulled Donas' reins towards the stream.

The horse gladly started drinking noisily.

Then Jamie noticed his surroundings.

When he'd left Lallybroch earlier he didn't have anywhere specific in mind. He'd just felt the need to get away.

But as he'd started making plans to surrender to the redcoats, he must've unconsciously stated to ride there.

The hill of Craigh na Dun stared at him from above, as if daring him to get anywhere closer.

The pull Jamie had felt to that place was stronger than anything he'd ever felt before.

As he'd started the steep climb towards the stones that had taken his wife and child to safety, Jamie reflected on his predicament.

He'd known, obviously, that Claire wasn't there. But he'd needed to see the stones, the last place he'd seen her, one last time, if he really was going through with his plan to be captured.

When he'd finally reached the top of the hill, the sun was quickly setting. The sight of the stones against the tones of orange, red and purple in the sky giving an eerie atmosphere to the place.

Jamie took a deep breath, and reached for the tallest stone.

Being thrown off a horse at full speed.

Actually, being thrown off a horse at full speed and immediately falling through a hole so deep you couldn't see it's bottom.

That was how Jamie would describe the feeling of what had just happened.

When he'd finally come to himself, he opened his eyes to see that he had, in fact, being thrown off a horse.

He'd tried to move, but a piercing pain on his shoulder indicated it wasn't the best idea.

"Calm down, lad. ye've just fallen on yer arse. And by the looks of it, yer shoulder is dislodged." A voice he thought he'd never hear again in his life spoke from above his head.

After Culloden, Jamie could've sworn Murtagh had died in battle.

But there was his godfather, looking down at him from above his head with a worried look on this face.

"What the hell just happened?" He asked, disoriented.

"The bloody beast got spooked and threw ye off his back, that's what happened." Another voice he never thought he'd ever hear again spoke from behind him.

Dougal.

Murtagh moved to help him sit down, wary of the injured shoulder.

Jamie sat on the ground with a grunt.

Looking up, he saw clearly two other people that should've been dead.

Rupert and Angus.

"Can ye stand, lad?" Dougal asked.

"Aye." Jamie took a heavy breath and tried to move, only to be stopped by the blinding pain on his shoulder.

"Weel, can't have the lad traveling like this." Dougal stated with a sigh. "Let's find a place to have his shoulder fixed, then we can get back on the road sooner rather than later."

Several hours later, he sat on a bench by the wall in a room lit by the hearth and several candles scattered all around, inside a cottage they'd manage to find.

Jamie was still trying to make sense of what had happened.

Murtagh and Angus had gone with some other men to try and fetch some food for them to eat before fixing Jamie's shoulder and continuing their journey to Leoch.

He'd always thought he couldn't travel through the stones. He'd even touched them before, to no avail.

But somehow, he'd travelled this time around.

It was the only explanation he had for the fact that Murtagh, Dougal, Rupert and Angus were alive. Also, the only explanation for the lancing pain on his shoulder, exactly the same one he'd felt almost four years before.

Somehow, the bloody stones had worked this time.

Only instead of being sent to the future, where Claire and his bairn were, he was sent back to 1743.

How did it happen?

Did it mean he'd get to meet Claire and go through the motions of those three years together one more time?

Did it mean he had the chance to maybe somehow not end up with him and his wife separated by 200 years?

He hoped so.

Bonnie Prince Charles had been enough proof that making major changes in history was not possible.

But maybe, just maybe, it might be possible to change slight details, such as never joining that blasted uprising.

He was thinking of how things might happen differently between him and Claire, with him knowing everything that had transpired between them, when a loud noise announced the others had arrived.

Having decided to act as he had the first time Claire had seen him so as not to scare her, he bowed his head, staring at his own feet.

His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, the anxiety of seeing his Claire for the first time after over a year of separation overwhelming.

Even if she would not recognize him.

The sound of lighter steps approaching meant Claire was with already with the men.

Jamie resisted the temptation to look up, knowing in due time she would fix his shoulder and he'd get the chance to see her up close.

"What is it ye have there, Murtagh?" Dougal asked without ceremony, exactly the same question he'd asked her before.

"A Sassenach who was attacked by a certain dragoon we're all familiar with." Murtagh responded matter of factly. "Despite being alone with a bairn, she managed to get her hands on a gun and killed him."

Jamie felt his heart stop at hearing those words.

"She managed to get her hands on a gun and killed him."

Black Jack Randall would no longer be an issue to them.

On the other hand, his heart clenched when he came to the conclusion that Randall had been the reason they'd been forced to marry. And unless she fell in love with him earlier, it meant Claire would undoubtedly do her hardest to go back to her time.

Then his mind registered the something else part his godfather had said.

Did Claire travel from another year? Did she have a child with Frank who had travelled with her?

He couldn't possibly keep Claire in his time if it meant a child would be deprived of their father, no matter how deeply he loved their mother.

Despite the pang in his heart, Jamie knew he had to do whatever it took to send Claire and her child back through the stones.

He knew all too well what it was like to have a child being ripped from him. He would never do the same to Frank, even if he had no sympathy towards the man.

But before he started making plans to get them to Craigh na Dun, he decided to give himself one look.

One look at her to know she was really there, alive and well. Then he'd make sure she and the child were safely back in their own time.

He looked up.

Dougal, who was standing in front of him, eyed Claire up and down, gaging her.

"Ye killed Jack Randall?" He asked challengingly, no expression on his face.

"I had no other choice." She responded firmly.

"What's yer name, lass?" Dougal inquired, moving from his spot to circle around her.

With his view unobstructed, Jamie looked straight into her eyes.

But what he saw there was not fear, anxiety or confusion like he'd been expecting.

Jamie knew fairly well that whatever Claire was feeling would appear clearly on her face.

And what appeared on her face in that precise moment was a mixture of amazement, recognition and love.

"Claire?" He asked tentatively before he could stop himself.