Chapter 6: Origins

"Come, man," Jamie repeated frustrated, for what felt like the hundredth time as they manoeuvred the staircase up to the officers' quarters in the by and large eerily empty Governor's House building at the middle of Edinburgh castle. Getting him to the bottom of the dwelling had been easy enough with the help of the cart, it was these stairs that took them what felt like eternity for Jamie, with Jack stopping every few steps to lean on the wall and looking like he was going to tumble back down to the extent Jamie had no choice but to offer his steady arm, snaked around him to support and catch if needed. The Scot sighed at the snails' pace progress and contemplated the possibility of whether Jack was putting it on or exaggerating his symptoms for the sake of obtaining bodily contact from the man he was infatuated with, but renewed retching sounds made him abandon the concept. "Don't tell me I need to carry ye," the redhead grumbled, peeking up at the next landing, destination in sight.

Jack swallowed down the rising bile in his throat and kept his mouth firmly closed in a grim line for fear of opening it would result in emptying the rather meagre contents of his stomach still there. Not keen on being seen weak by his favourite adversary at any case, he gathered mental resolve and climbed the remaining stairs with one hand on the wall, Jamie's strong, muscular arm behind him. If he didn't know any better, he would've thought his member was stirring at the intimacy of the touch, but then again, that wasn't possible at all, was it. Lost in the thought of the hypothesis, he barely registered their arrival at his quarters and his own wobbliness when there was no more wall to hang onto. Lacking the support, it was Jamie who manoeuvred him towards a chair on the other side of the room. The younger man caught him too when his knees buckled and practically transported him over the last few feet by dragging Jack's arm over his shoulder, then deposited him non too gently, but still holding out a hand in case the Englishman would fall forwards. The fact that it was eerily quiet registered with them at the same time as they got over the task of getting Jack to destination.

"I shall go an' check," Jamie tilted his head towards the bedroom. Claire had to be in there, her coat was left right by the door. He didn't have to however, as on his approach, the door slowly, quietly, hesitantly opened.

As opposed to the men not hearing anything coming from her direction, Claire already heard them coming when the cart arrived outside. It took her a long time to get herself together though and ready to face the world, but now she knew she could not delay it any longer. While Jamie had been used to death and the sight of blood, there was no need for him to see what lay before her, no need to visualise how close she herself came to the same fate as the unfortunate young woman here. Bundle in arm, swaddled in a slightly stained pillowcase, she stepped outside, slowly closing the door behind her the same way as she opened it. Her face told the whole story, there was no need for words, yet she said them anyway, "I couldn't save her. I'm sorry," she said, staring ahead, not looking at anyone in particular. She was lost for further words, and the men were also.

Jack swallowed again, staring expressionless before his gaze slowly lifted to the bundle in her arms, "and the babe?"

Claire blinked, as if she had forgotten what she was holding and glanced down repeatedly as she spoke, "oh, he is little, that is true. Perhaps about a month too early. But his heart and lungs sound strong and he fell asleep suckling on a cloth saturated with milk I have given him, so I'm quite sure he will be alright," she explained, stepping forward hesitantly, not sure if Jack wanted to see the child or what was to be done with it as far as he was concerned.

"A boy then," he summarised. "Bring him to me."

The nurse leant over by the chair, in a position he could have a good look at his nephew. Jack looked long and hard, at all the child's features and up and down, measuring him up, "he will survive you say," he wanted to make certain.

"With proper care, yes." She pulled the baby back to her own bosom as he started to squirm and perhaps wake up, "he will need a wet nurse or at least a goat for milking every day and someone to clean, wash and care for him of course.."

"I will care for him," Jack held.

Claire involuntarily stepped back one and exchanged a wide eyed look with Jamie. Jack and a baby , could that be a feasible combination in any circumstances? They had been present when he swore to Alex to look after his family, but it was hard to shake the memory that this was the person who had done unspeakable things in the past. Not to mention practicalities that characterised the current situation, with his illness at the brink of a weighty battle. "Give him to me." The captain's command came, solid and resolute, reminiscent of his old resilence and resolve.

The nurse hesitated some more, her movements leisurely as if she would've been playing for time. Finally, she decided there was no harm in handing the child over for the time being and that Jack would not take any frustration out on his beloved brother's son. But her brain had to go over the possibilities at least three times interim. It also registered with her that to an outsider, her movements would've probably looked like as if they were in slow motion. She placed a hand on the baby's tiny head even after letting Jack hold him, reluctant to let go.

"Denys Alexander Randall," the Englishman directed his words to the child, "as I am, I'd never thought I'd have a son, if in name only. I will take care of you," he promised.

A shiver went through Claire at the words. Jack had no way of knowing how Frank's family tree looked like, and yet the name was exactly the same as it should've been and if it was so, if this part of history was indeed correct, then perhaps little Denys would be safe with his uncle/putative father.
"Are you well enough for that?" She questioned, mind drifting back to practicalities.

"I'm not generally as weak as today," he held, all the while staring in curiosity at the small person in his arms as if he would've never seen a baby before, "it was only the rush to get to you that affected me."

Claire nodded slowly, taking in the scene in front of her eyes. It was hard to imagine Jack had a soft side, but she had seen and got to know it first hand over the last few months and it was consistent, at least towards those he chose to extend it to. A look at Jamie however, told her that he was a fair bit less convinced, with good cause, as from where he was standing, the one-eighty turn has been less gradual. In accordance with this experience, he stepped closer to his wife, speaking on a confidential tone, even though it was likely his words would carry further than her ears in the small room, "shouldn't we take the bairn?" Jack's attention and him looking up at the Scot made him add, "just till he's fit to look after the lad, eh?"

"For all intents and purposes, he is my son. There are goats at the castle and I know a girl who did errands for Alex, she could look after Denys for me," Jack established, surefooted, not argumentative. He seemed to be in a strange, passive state that made her think of symptoms of shock. His life was changing, that's for sure.

"Alright," she put a hand on Jamie's front to halt any further suggestions. It should be enough. It's not as if he cared for any Randalls after all, child or otherwise. "I will let Mary's family know and organise the undertaker." She offered, and as she wasn't rejected, she added, "where can I find this girl you mentioned? I would think she should start now if she was going to."

tbc