Chapter Fourteen:
She sits in the back of the ambulance, cursing the luck that she and Jamie have. Can't they ever get a moment of peace?
She's holding his hand, listening as the EMTs call out to one another, monitoring her husband's vitals. Tracking his heart rate on the machine, she prays to whoever might be out there that he makes it.
Claire is a doctor. She's logical. She knows that the chances of this being a life threatening wound are slim, but seeing her husband on the gurney, his bloody wound wrapped up while the medics apply pressure, worries her.
When they get to the hospital, he's wheeled away, leaving her in the dust until Joe comes running out to find her. He wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulling Claire in for a tight hug.
"He's going to be okay, LJ," he whispers into her hair, and she nods at the reassurances.
She'd called Joe from the ambulance in a panic, knowing his shift was ending soon and begged him to stay on after to help. He'd assured her with a, "Of course, Lady Jane. I'll be waiting for you," but she'd barely heard it, too focused on Jamie. Standing here now, though, Joe is still in his lab coat, stethoscope around his neck.
"Aren't you going home?" she asks.
"Nah," he scoffs, tightening his grip on the lapels of his coat. "I told you I would stay. You think I'd leave you or Jamie right now?"
He smiles that big, warm smile of his that always makes her feel better, and she can't help the little grin that tugs on the corner of her lips as well. "Thank you, Joe."
Leaning in, Joe kisses the top of her head and gives her hand a squeeze, saying, "I hate to leave you, but I'm going to go check on the big guy."
Nodding, she waves him off, knowing he's needed much more in there than out here with her.
As soon as Joe makes his exit, the hospital doors slide open, John rushing inside. He'd followed behind the ambulance in his car, and Claire sighs, grateful to have him there.
{*************************}
A few hours later, Claire sits beside Jamie's hospital bed, John across from her.
Hector had stayed behind with the girls, but she was thankful to have someone there with her.
She sighs, thumb rubbing the back of Jamie's hand. He's hooked up to wires, his heart monitor a constant companion that lets her know he's alive.
"Damn it, James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser," she curses, pulling his hand to her lips and kissing his knuckles. "If you die on me, I'll kill you myself."
She sniffles, linking her fingers with his, listening once more to that thrum of beep, beep, beep, which is normally a nuisance, but tonight it's a comfort that she clings to.
Jamie had been rushed to surgery, Joe working his magic to make sure he was the surgeon. The knife had punctured his kidney, but thankfully it wasn't deep enough to cause serious damage. Joe had sewn up the laceration, sewing together the tissue that had been torn, and set him up in a room for the night to recover.
Claire looks over Jamie's face, the light bruising and his broken hand bringing a fresh set of tears to her eyes.
"I don't understand," she says softly, looking over the bed to John. "How did this even happen?"
John sighs, sitting forward in his seat. His hands fold, leaning against his thighs. "Whoever leaked that Jamie was actually alive must have been following him somehow."
"That's not good enough," she snaps. "You were supposed to keep us safe. That's your fucking job!"
She's angry, and while she sat there, waiting on Jamie's surgery to end, she'd stupidly kept herself busy researching witness protection. Turns out, the people who get put in witness protection usually have their whole family hidden away with them. The fact that John never revealed that to her, never came and got her and Faith back then to protect them as well pisses her right the fuck off, and she can no longer hold her fury back from him.
"It's your goddamn fault that my children weren't with their father all these years, not Master Raymond. And sure, I could forgive you, but you know what? That amount of time doesn't seem to exist for me right now, John."
John sits back, lips pressing together. He looks properly chastised, and she feels bad, but she also doesn't because, damn it, fuck all of this. Her husband was attacked right outside their home. Whoever knows he's alive knows where they live, where her children sleep at night.
A shiver runs down her spine at that, and she picks up her phone, texting Hector to check in again on the kids.
She stands, her arms crossing as she rubs up and down her biceps, trying to calm herself. John stands as well, joining her at the foot of the bed. "I know you're upset, Claire," he begins, but she cuts him off.
"Oh, I'm more than upset." She points toward Jamie, still asleep in the bed. "My husband could have died tonight all because the one person whose job it is to keep him safe, failed to do so." Her lip curls, spitting out toward him, "That person also could have put me and Faith in witness protection with Jamie, but no, that would've been too much work for you."
"Look," he says, not even addressing her newest revelation, and she can tell he's trying to stay calm as well. "We've taken all the safety precautions we can. Sometimes… things like this happen. It sucks, I get it, but they do, and I'm sorry."
"Sorry," she scoffs, rolling her eyes. She grips the footboard of Jamie's bed, lips pursing as she tries to keep her tears at bay.
"Jamie is a tough guy," he says, adding, "I've watched him over the last six years go from a broken shell of a man, to a strong man who would fight to his death for the people he loves."
"You don't have to tell me who my husband is," she snips, whirling around to look at him. "Just because you got six years of his life doesn't erase the twelve I had with him before that." The anger swells inside of her again—anger at Master Raymond for putting this all into motion, angry at Jamie for insisting on going to get that stupid watch from the mail, angry at John for acting to cavalier about this whole thing—and before she can stop it, her hand raises, slapping John across the face.
She gasps as his head whips to the side, and she instantly regrets it, her hand flying up to cover her mouth.
"John," she breaths, reaching out to touch his cheek. "I'm… I'm so sorry." She shakes her head, those tears she's been fighting for the last few hours finally falling. It's all too much; she's angry with John, though realistically she knows he was just doing his job; he's been her family's savior through all of this, rescuing Jamie the way he did back then and keeping him protected all this time, but he bore the brunt of her anger, and though that slap did feel pretty damn good, she feels bad, too.
"It's alright," he says softly, always as kind as ever as he rubs his cheek. He looks down at his feet, then back to her, his voice as steady like always, "I know you're upset right now."
"Damn, Sassenach," she hears Jamie groan from the bed. "If ye're gonna slap someone, better wait 'til ye see Master Raymond at trial in a few days."
She looks over, seeing that Jamie is awake, looking groggy but with a huge smirk on his face. He points to John, saying, "He's the good guy, remember?"
Claire laughs through her sob, walking over to the side of Jamie's bed. She climbs in gingerly, making sure to avoid the wires and his injured side. She kisses his cheek over and over, hands gripping his face. "You'd joke on your deathbed, wouldn't you?"
Her tears fall onto his face, kissing his jaw, then his lips, trying to prove to herself that he's really alive.
Jamie grunts, and Claire shoots off of the bed, apologizing when she realizes his broken hand was beneath her.
"It's alright, mo ghraidh," he croaks out, situating himself further up in the bed and beckoning her back over to him.
John apprehensively settles into the chair, clapping Jamie on the shoulder as he does. "I'm glad you're okay, man," he says, and then finally looks at Claire, "And if I could have taken you and Faith with us to Wilmington, trust me, I would have." He looks so sincere that she feels even worse for being so angry moments ago.
Her eyes close, rubbing Jamie's hand as she collects herself. It's one of those things in life that she'll simply have to be upset about forever, knowing there's no way to go back and fix the past. So, putting it as far back in her mind as she can—which isn't really far at all—she smiles and nods, and they spend the next hour talking over the possibilities of who could have done this and what it means for the trial.
"We need to be extra careful," John says, looking pointedly at Jamie. "No going outside, even if it's to check the mail." Jamie looks from his friend, up to Claire, shrugging like a chastised little boy. "I don't even want you in the backyard with the girls until all of this is over."
Claire nods, agreeing, and John catches her eye, both smiling at one another, and she knows that she's already been forgiven for her outburst.
"I've got a security detail outside the house now," he informs them, "and I'll head home just to be safe."
"Thank ye, John."
John smiles at Jamie, standing and hugging Claire. "And put some ice on that cheek of yours," she says with a sheepish smile, rubbing his reddened skin. "Doctor's orders," she adds before their friend makes his way out of the room.
Claire settles back against Jamie's side, breathing him in. They lay there together in silence until she said quietly, "I was so scared," almost as if the words would disrupt the quiet of his hospital room.
He wraps his arm more securely around her, saying he was too. "I ken I wasn't going to die, though, ye ken how?"
She shakes her head, brows furrowing.
"'Cause I told myself years ago that if I ever got back tae ye, then the only way I'd die again was as an auld man wi' ye in my arms." He kisses her temple, breathing in, then out slowly, pecking another kiss there before adding, "Claire, if my last words are not 'I love you', ye'll ken it's because I didna have time. I wilna leave ye again, mo nighean donn, wi'out making sure ye ken just how much I truly love you."
Sniffling, Claire leans up, pressing her lips to his, letting them rest there soundly as she soaks up all the love he has to give her. "I love you, too, James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser."
He grins, pressing another chaste kiss to her lips before letting his head rest against the pillow again.
"What happened?" she asks after a moment of silence, shaking her head as she props herself up to listen.
Jamie tells her about how he went to check the mail, and this person came out of nowhere. They attacked him from behind so he never saw it coming. "They were quiet as a mouse," he says, shaking his head, his eyes glazing over as he clearly gets lost in the memory. "All they said was my name, my real name, but before I could even turn fully around, they were hitting me over the head; I figure they were smaller than me, ken? So knocking me out was the only way to do any damage."
She grins, despite herself, knowing that most people are smaller than him, so that doesn't narrow anything down much. She's thankful that the police aren't here taking a statement, glad that John took care of everything so no other authorities were called, because this story of his would lead them nowhere.
"I tried to fight him off, went to punch them but he whipped out a knife, stabbing me in my hand." He raises his broken hand, flexing his fingers that stick out from the cast. He tells her how he fell to his knees from the pain as the attacker pulled the knife out of his hand. He forced himself back onto his feet, strong willed that he is, but before he could recover from the pain in his hand, the attacker dug the knife into his side. "I was sae scared, Sassenach. I just kept praying that you would stay inside; I didna want him tae hurt ye as well."
He asks of the girls, and she promises him that they're still dead asleep, none the wiser to what happened. "Hector is there with them, said he took Sophia upstairs and they're in my office on the futon just in case something happens."
Jamie smiles, his eyes closing as he leans his head back against the pillows. "He's a good guy."
Claire reaches out, stroking his cheek as she agrees. "And so is John. You got really lucky in the US Marshal department."
He snorts, peeking one eye open. "Ye wouldn't know ye felt that way based on that slap ye delivered tae the poor man."
She snickers, shrugging. "I was upset, can you blame me?"
"Nah," he laughs, puckering his lips, silently asking her to lean in for a kiss. She obliges, pecking hers to his before he says, "I canna blame ye one bit."
"Time for your medicine, Mr. Malcolm!" Joe calls from the door, rattling the cup of painkillers. "And I brought a special delivery."
They both look up to Joe, smiling brightly as Murtagh walks in from the shadows of the hallway.
"I snuck him in for you."
"Thank ye, Joe," Jamie says, watching as his godfather sits down in the chair beside the bed, clapping him on the shoulder.
Claire slips from the bed to take the medicine from Joe, squeezing Murtagh's bicep in greeting as she does.
"Thank you, Joe," Claire parrots, hugging her best friend as Jamie swallows his dose. "I'm so glad you were working tonight. I wouldn't have trusted anyone else."
"Oh, I'll be sure to tell Dr. Christie that," he grins, patting her on the shoulder.
Rolling her eyes, she mutters how Christie knows they're better surgeons anyway, so it wouldn't come as a shock.
Joe chortles, "Ruthless, LJ, I love it." He smiles, telling Jamie that a nurse will be back in a few hours with more medicine, but he should be good to go in the morning. "Our friend here should be gone, though, before she comes. Visiting hours technically ended ten minutes ago."
With that, Joe leaves, telling Claire that he can get a cot sent up for her to sleep on if she wants, but she refuses, saying she'll sleep just fine on the edge of Jamie's bed.
Claire sits back in the other chair, taking Jamie's forearm in her hand, avoiding the cast, as she watches Murtagh and Jamie catch up. She smiles, knowing she hasn't seen the old man smile this largely in years.
"I'm glad you came, ghoistidh."
"Ah, lad," Murtagh breathes, looking at him in wonder, "I'd sit here all night if they let me."
{********************}
The next day, Jamie is released, and as soon as they walk in the door, Faith and Brianna are fawning over Jamie.
They both take one of his hands, leading him over to the couch, peppering him with kisses and telling him about how Hector made them pancakes this morning.
"We can make some for you, Daddy, if you want," Bree says, careful not to pull on his casted arm too much.
Jamie grins, "'Tis alright, m'annsachd, I'm no' too hungry."
Brianna nods, hopping up from the couch as Faith snuggles into Jamie's side.
Claire had talked to Hector late last night, knowing they needed to tell the girls something. They had agreed to tell them that one of the bad men had found Jamie and hurt him, but assure them that he was fine—just a little banged up. She didn't want the girls to worry too much, so the fewer details they could give her daughters, the better.
"We have to sign your cast, Daddy!" Brianna says, running to the kitchen and returning with a black sharpie. "Elijah in my class broke his arm at recess a few months ago, and we all got to write our names on his cast," she explains as she climbs back onto the couch, "I drew a little puppy next to my name!" she giggles.
Smiling, Jamie agrees, holding out his cast to let them sign.
Claire looks to John and Hector, smiling as she sits down in the chair. "Be careful, girls," she warns, telling them not to press too hard while signing.
John joins her in the chair beside her, while Hector situates himself on the love seat across from them. He looks to Faith with a sweet smile, saying, "Let me sign when you're done, I've been practicing how to draw puppies, too," making the girls laugh.
"Where's Soph?" Claire asks, opening her arms as Brianna slides from the couch and into her mother's embrace.
"Napping," John says with a dramatic sigh, "finally."
Giggling, Claire nods, saying they can let her scribble on the cast later to make her feel included.
"There," Faith announces, "all done!" She snaps the marker closed, nodding in approval at her handiwork. She's written her name under Brianna's and drew a tiny horse beside her name. "It's not the best," she confesses, grimacing, "but I figured you'd rather have a horse on your arm than some ballet slippers."
"Och," Jamie grunts, leaning over to kiss Faith's curly hair. He wraps his good arm around her, snuggling with her, "'Tis a fine wee horse," he assures, smiling over to Brianna, "and yer puppy is a beaut, too."
Brianna beams from Claire's arms, rambling on to everyone about how her friend Sally taught her how to draw them one day during indoor recess while it was raining and how they practice on their papers when they finish their work.
"How about we order some lunch, hm?" John asks, clapping his hands together. "That Mexican place we ate at the other night was delicious, we could do that again."
Everyone agrees, and with that, John places the order, and he and Hector go out to get it while the Frasers stay home. "I'll check on Sophia in a little bit," Claire says, and John waves her off, saying now that she's asleep, she'll nap for at least another forty-five minutes.
Nodding, Claire smiles and walks them to the door, closing it behind them.
She makes her way back to the living room, joining her family on the couch.
Jamie looks over at her, smiling and blowing her a kiss over Faith's head. She grins, blowing one back before flipping on the television and pulling up Moana for the girls to watch.
{********************}
A week later, Claire is a nervous wreck. Jamie is, too, but she knows he's doing his best to act calm for her.
The trial begins today, and Claire barely slept a wink last night. She was already nervous, but feeling Jamie toss and turn all night put her on edge.
Claire's been up for hours, having showered and gotten ready far earlier than necessary. She's in the kitchen making everyone breakfast when Geillis arrives.
Her friend had agreed to watch the girls during the trial instead of going to the courthouse, all figuring the girls would feel more comfortable at home in their own space, and not needing to hear the horrors their father went through. Joe and Murtagh will be there for moral support, though, which she's grateful for.
"Thanks for doing this, G," Claire says, handing her a plate of bacon and eggs.
Hector holds up a finger for Geillis to wait, and he removes the tray of biscuits he'd taught Claire how to make, scooping one up with his spatula. "Hot off the press," he says, smiling at Geillis.
She smiles her thanks, assuring Claire it was no problem. "Dougal thinks I'm just teaching extra classes at the studio during all o'this, sae he's none the wiser." She shrugs, and Claire chuckles, knowing their marriage has never been one of deep connection like hers and Jamie's, but it works for them, and that's all that matters.
Everyone joins them soon enough, and Claire watches as Faith and Brianna eat silently. Clearly they could tell all the adults were on edge about today. Claire and Jamie had tried to explain to them as best as possible that they were going to court to try and put the bad guy away that hurt daddy, but it was just too confusing to truly comprehend at their ages.
Three hours later, Claire takes Jamie's hand in the car, watching as John drives the car around to the back of the courthouse.
He'd explained in detail last night how things would go. They'd enter through a back entrance to avoid any onlookers, and if they got there early enough, they'd be taken to a room to wait until it was time for the trial to begin.
Claire's breathing becomes ragged the closer they get to the back of the courthouse, images of what could happen floating through her mind. After Jamie's attack, she's not sure how safe this all is, and worries that someone will be there waiting to hurt him all over again.
"Hey," Jamie says, lifting her hand to his lips. He presses a kiss to her knuckles, smiling over her hand at her. "It's all going tae be alright, Sassenach."
She nods, swallowing thickly as she tries her best to smile reassuringly at him.
"We're here," John says, putting the SUV into park.
He and Hector slide out from the front, both opening the doors for her and Jamie. She doesn't let go of his hand until the very last second, grabbing it again as soon as he makes it to her side of the car.
John leads them through the backdoor, surrounded by security that met them inside.
The security officers have to scan them, and she hesitates, not wanting to let go of her anchor. Jamie smiles confidently at her, and though she thinks his confidence is put on for her sake, she has to admit, it does make her feel better.
She lets go of his hand again, allowing the officers to scan the metal detector over her body, watching as they do the same to Jamie.
Once they're given the all clear, Jamie quickly takes her hand again, both dutifully following behind John and Hector.
She feels terrified, and she fights off tears, as the reality of this whole situation crashes down upon her like a wave breaking shore.
Jamie's hand is shaking in hers, and the feel of it brings her back to reality.
This is not her nightmare they're living. It's his. And she needs to support him, not the other way around.
She squeezes his hand, smiling at him. "It's going to be okay," she says as confidently as possible.
Jamie smiles, a true one, and her rapidly beating heart begins to settle. They will make it through this, they have to; they've been through too much already not to.
John tells them that they're already ready to start, so they're going to go straight to the courtroom instead of the small room, and they both nod, following behind dutifully.
When they walk in, she can feel her heartbeat in her ears, everything else being drowned out by the thump, thump, thump.
She spots Joe, Murtagh and Jocasta in one of the rows, and they each smile at her and Jamie.
Seeing them calms her somewhat, and she can feel Jamie's grip relax in hers, sees his shoulders loosen from the tension he's been holding in them since they arrived.
They walk toward the front, and she can feel their friends behind them, moving to sit with them for extra support.
As they get closer to their row, Claire stops dead in her tracks, her heart rate picking up even further as her eyes land on the accused's side, spotting a man she never expected to see there in a million years.
Her eyes dart to the infamous Master Raymond, who sits at the table with his lawyer, both whispering conspiratorially over something, then back to what made her stop walking.
"What the hell?" she whispers, Jamie tugging on her hand when he realizes she'd stopped walking. He looks at her, following her line of vision. "How did he…" her breathing picks up, and she feels as if she's about to have a panic attack. "You don't think he's the leak, do you?"
She knows she's talking more to herself, though the desire to turn and look at Joe and Murtagh is overwhelming, knowing they must look just as shocked. And she would turn to check on them, but the image before her has her stuck.
"Sassenach," Jamie whispers, coming to stand protectively behind her, his arms gripping her shoulders, "who is that?"
Jamie's voice sounds muffled as her eyes hone in on the person in front of her. She feels as if an anvil has anchored itself to her chest and the walls around them are closing in, drowning her in anxiety and confusion.
She takes a shaking breath, looking at the man again, a sinister smirk growing on his lips that makes her insides flip, bile rising in her throat as what she thinks are all the puzzle pieces coming together in the most disgusting way. "Frank."
{*******************}
Sorry to have worried so many people last chapter — did y'all really think I'd kill Jamie?! Lol (not in this story anyway mwahaha)... Thanks for all the continued support and lovely reviews; it means a lot to me! Hope you enjoyed this one! Next up: The trial