Authors Notes: This chapter totally got away from me and it became really long. I'm finished with this part and adding some finishing touches to the rest, but I figured I would at least share this.


Only a few short hours ago, the most terrifying thing Lord John could imagine is that the Crown would declare war and his son – along with several others he loves deeply – would be killed. The supernatural was no more real to him than the succubus killing soldiers in Prussia, or the witchcraft that raised the dead in Jamaica. Anything unnatural he ever faced in his past was always proven through logic to be of human origin. The idea of time travel is something that never occurred to him.

Has it ever occurred to anyone, without something prompting it?

He believes Claire and Brianna when they say it never occurred to them until they experienced firsthand what they are describing.

Venturing to the past would only be more dangerous for a man like him but nor could he envision sprinting forward to the future. How could someone travel to a place or time that hasn't happened yet, or one that has already come and gone? How on earth could they possibly guess or know what they would encounter if they did? To find out time travel is not only possible, but that he is well acquainted with two time-travelers makes him an unwitting witness to what? A miracle? A curse? A fantastical but convincing delusion shared by one family?

Placing his elbows on his knees, he rests his chin on folded hands, staring at the full tumbler of whiskey next to the open bottle. He drank the whole first glass and had started on the second when he cut himself off. The things he is being told are already beyond comprehension and if he lets himself get drunk then he'll be able to convince himself this is some bizarre alcohol induced dream. The sapphire, still locked in place, sits on the table. If he thought the meaning had been lost regarding Jamie, it is nothing compared to the disassociation he feels now.

"…and right after we rescued Ian in Jamaica the ship taking us home to Scotland sank. We drifted until we ended up on the shores of America and, well, you already know most of that story…"

Unfortunately, he knows all too well…

He clears his throat, "So, just to be certain I am following, the woman in Jamaica who gave the prophecy using this sapphire was working for or with Lady Abernathy, whom you call Geillis – who is also from the future – and she is the woman that kidnapped Young Ian to sacrifice him because she needed virgins blood to go through a time portal that existed in a nearby cave to murder Brianna because she was 200 years old on the day she was born in 1948 and killing Brianna would secure the prophecy of Bonnie Prince Charlie getting control of Scotland's throne?"

"Um, yes, so far…"

Just one more sip of whiskey…a long sip…

"That kind of makes sense…" John says, setting the tumbler back down.

"It does?" Jamie asks.

"No, not that, the um…when I was first sent to Jamaica it was to quell a rebellion of slaves. There was a growing hysteria as it was rumored that zombies were killing people, but it was all a hoax, and Lady Abernathy was at the center of it. I could never prove it, but I know she murdered her husband,"

"Again?" Claire and Brianna ask in unison. He looks between them.

"Had she…killed him before? Elsewhere?" Or Elsewhen?

Dear god in heaven his head aches.

"Sorry, different husband, in 1968. I believe it was the first time she made a trip to the past, she set her husband's body on fire in front of the stones."

"I'll never forget that smell…" Brianna interjects quietly, and it makes a chill run down his spine. For all their talk of advancement and the betterment of society, that someone so young not serving in an army would ever be subjected to that particular experience is horrible. But the weight with which she says it proves at least the incident itself is a real one and not something made up for a story.

For the moment no one speaks, all lost in their own thoughts and memories and with an exasperated sigh he rubs his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Is there any chance that you're all lying?" he asks no one in particular, "I have known for some time now that Claire and Brianna both are exceptional and unique and entirely out of place here. But Jamie, you are highly educated, and I have never known you to outright lie or even exaggerate a truth..."

Well, he can't say that either, at Ardsmuir Jamie did omit that what Kerr told him had meaning, even though he confessed to it almost immediately...

"When Claire told me we hadna been married for very long; I was skeptical, obviously. She was accused of being a witch more than once due to her uncanny ability to heal people. But the longer we were together and the more she told me that actually came to pass made it hard to deny. Even though I truly believed her, it wasna until she went through the stones just before Culloden. We said goodbye and she was there one moment and gone the next. There were no doors that opened or loud noises. Just silence."

"Trust me, John; I know how it sounds. When Mama first told me about Jamie and the stones, I was furious – I called her crazy and accused her of using this story as a way to cover up an affair. I swore I'd never speak to her again. Then I saw Geillis go through the stones and then Mama eventually, can't argue with your own eyes."

He is fairly certain he knows the answer but feels compelled to ask, "But you never killed anyone to travel, correct?"

"Correct. I did kill Geillis right where she would have traveled – and we left her there – but it was because my family would never be safe as long as she was alive…"

He nods in understanding, "How did you discover it required jewels?"

"Like everything else, I suppose, by accident. I didn't wear a lot of jewelry but anytime I did there would always be a gem missing, no matter if it was big or small."

When he said he would sit down and listen until the whole story was told he meant it. It's honestly one of the most validating things he's ever heard – every utterance of 'it's a long story' and every suspicion of his at every sideways glance they used to share that still makes him feel like they were in on some joke or secret that John would just never be in on. He kind of wishes he could go back to that blissful ignorance. He has not said a word or asked a question before now, but he couldn't have known it would take this long and now Claire's voice sounds as tired as he feels.

"Is there much more?" he asks, truly hoping there is not.

"Not too much, I don't think. Like I said, you know most of what happened these past few years, I'm not sure what else there is to tell you unless you have specific questions."

He reclines back against the chair, his fingers itching to reach for the whiskey, "Bonnet was the first person you all encountered upon your arrival here?"

"Well, not the first person. Da's ex-wife kept me prisoner when she found out who my mother was and accused me of witchcraft," Again, there is a joking edge to Brianna's voice and it's almost like she's sharing a fond memory of her childhood. Looking at Jamie he doesn't miss the hint of tension between husband and wife at the mention of said ex.

"Charming," he teases lightly, fully intending to ask Jamie later.

"Aye," Jamie glares at him and it's mostly in jest, but there is a clear message in his gaze telling him to avoid the topic.

"But yes, all our introductions to this country were violent ones, and not that any place is ever truly safe…it was still a shock. Even though I was raised in this country, and I know most of the history, I never considered how truly savage it must have been here." Brianna says, speaking to the blame he knows she places on herself. Following Bonnet into a room, never even considering the danger she might be in. It was a brutal lesson and the unwelcome realization that she was no longer in the country she grew up in.

"A lot of the trouble and unrest that surrounded us came simply because our time is much different socially and being amongst slavery makes us angry in a way that is just not allowed here…" Claire adds, and he perks up at that, hoping he heard her correctly.

"There's no slavery?"

"Not anymore,"

"Well, it isn't perfect," Brianna interjects, "There was a lot of division between the north and south over slavery, that war begins about 100 years from now. Even though the north won and slaves were freed, it still took another 100 years before the civil rights movement began. Eventually society integrated so whites and blacks could attend the same schools, live in the same neighborhoods, and get the same treatment as equals. But that's right about the time I left...hopefully it'll continue to improve."

Hearing them describing future events in the past tense irks him. It is not necessarily their fault; to them it was just words on a page, stories they learned about in school and grew up with. But everyone here and now was about to live through it, quite literally making history. In a way, though he didn't think of it at the time, he and Hector and Jamie and Hal and Murtagh and all those men at Culloden did the same thing. They fought on different sides, but to them they were just putting down another rebellion of Scottish Highlanders. Frank had ancestors that lived and fought and died in the battle and he told Claire the history of it during a holiday. Were it not for those details, Claire might have been every bit in the dark as the rest of them.

"You can really tell the dates and events and who will win battles?"

"I can tell you most of the dates of major battles, which side wins or loses, but ultimately this is the war where America gains its independence."

"By god…"

"It'll start with a tea party…"

John laughs, and maybe it's more of an emotional release because of the weight of all he has been told, but it's also ridiculous and he can't help but laugh harder. When he stops, their expressions remain somber.

"What kind of tea party results in a declaration of war?" Brianna's eyebrows raise and an amused albeit surprised expression takes over her features.

"Not that kind of tea party," Bree replies and both women start giggling, and while there is nothing mocking in their laughter, he fails to see the humor. To see Jamie looking equally confused and incredulous is a relief, so not even he knows everything. "It'll be in Boston…basically England raises the taxes on imported tea from China and they take barrels of tea and toss them in the harbor. And it's not instantly that the war begins, takes about a year after–" John waves his hand, shaking his head.

"Please do not tell me." He says, unable to interrupt her fast enough, "It's bad enough just knowing the event that will start it. And Brianna, I know you came here after reading of your parents' deaths but if you know anything of my or William's future, please never tell me."

A guilty and apologetic look takes over, "I didn't know about you or William yet so I couldn't tell you anything anyway..."

"Thank God for that." For the briefest of moments, he allows himself to imagine what he would do with that kind of information, to know the exact date a war will begin – to know how his son lives and dies. At the very least he would warn those closest to him and do his best to keep them all safe and untouched by war.

He thinks of Parliament and all the conversations surrounding the Colonies and the comparison of America being a son in rebellion to his father. The conversations he has had on both sides would put him in the unique position to be both a spy for the Crown, or a traitor against it. In this particular fight, it is not a position he wants to be in. He has defended the Crown's position on taxes and questioned Jamie's loyalty and though it did not make him happy to think it – the idea of America winning had never entered his mind. It would have broken his heart to do it, but he would have stood with King and Country to put down another rebellion.

And now he is conflicted where he has only ever been so certain. It's because of the freedom of this country that will allow both Brianna and Claire to be educated the way they are. He can't imagine either woman being born in this time, for as confounding as they both can be – it is their obstinate and outspoken manner that he appreciates most.

"Does it help…does knowing make it better?"

"Actually, it makes things worse." Claire says softly, "It's indescribable how helpless it makes you feel. Helpless isn't even a strong enough word."

"Aye. We tried, John. Claire told me about Culloden and I – we – did everything in our power to stop it." Jamie says emphatically.

He had not even thought of that.

"It's not your fault. I learned that lesson myself that killing one man won't end the conflict. Even if I succeeded that night a battle still would have been fought and lost."

"But that is the reason why, at least this time around, we are not staying. We will not try to interfere. Once Brianna and Jemmy are safely through the stones, Jamie and I will return to Scotland and wait it out."

"And Roger?"

Brianna sighs, irritated and focusing her gaze intensely on her son, "Roger never intended for us to stay here, especially after we were hand-fast. But he did, for me and Jemmy. I didn't want to travel while I was pregnant plus I was waiting until I got Roger and my parents back. After Jem was born we just had to wait and see. Part of traveling through the stones is that you have to envision home, to focus on your heart's deepest desire. We each had a gem, the three of us placed our hands on the stone and…well, I came out the other side but Roger was gone." Her tone is clipped betraying the emotion he can see she feels, also sparing her son from hearing harsh words about his father.

They wanted different things indeed…

She keeps running her hand through Jemmy's hair until he finally looks up at her, momentarily distracted from his toy, and smiles.

It's a conversation John and Brianna had once before, about how something as pure and beautiful as a child could be the result of something so violent and horrific. Looking at them now, her eyes are bright and full of nothing but love and pride and John would never have guessed that Jemmy was conceived in anything else but love. If she stayed in her time, Brianna never would have been raped and unless Roger is Jemmy's father the boy wouldn't exist. He can't help but wonder if she regrets coming here, or if her son and the time with her parents makes it worth it.

Ever since he read it in Jamie's letter, he has not forgotten that the name 'Ian' is the Scottish form of John. Jamie never said it outright, and he never allowed himself to dwell on it; in a small way, she named her son after him, but keeps that knowledge hidden away for herself. Had things worked out a little differently, Jemmy would have become John's son as well and a part of him genuinely grieves that he is not.

"Is there anything else you can tell me of the future?" he asks, tearing his gaze away from them, "I tire of hearing about war…"

Claire and Brianna glance at each other once more, perhaps not sure which one of them should answer or how much they should say. For Claire's sake he is glad that it's Brianna who takes over. He tries to listen as she excitedly starts to explain words like electricity, cars, television, phones, music records, radios and all the other technological advancements they are accustomed to. Hot running water and indoor plumbing particularly sounds like something he would appreciate. He wants her to be lying – desperately – wants this all to be a lie. But no one's imagination is that good to make this all up.

"I'm sorry, what?" he looks at Brianna, then to Claire, not believing what he just heard.

"I watched on television as we landed on the Moon..." she repeats, trying but failing to suppress her smile.

"The moon? Like the one in the night sky?" Jemmy comes over at that point, showing John the wooden carving he never let's go of. It is something he has never seen up close; all he knows is that it was carved by Roger which means Jemmy has never seen one either.

"It's called a plane and it carries people over the ocean like a boat except it flies in the air, and it goes much faster. They got to the moon with something similar called a rocket ship so it could leave the earth's atmosphere and then re-enter."

Compared to a boat, the toy looks like it would not fit near as many people, it's obviously scaled down like the nautical ships inside glass bottles. He is intrigued by the design, though, resembling the shape of a bird only slightly off. He's not sure how, but in his mind he can see how it would work.

"People…live on the moon?" Her smile widens but this time she is kind enough to not laugh.

"No, they just stayed long enough to leave an American flag there. The atmosphere is not habitable and with no natural source of oxygen we wouldn't survive."

"But of course…" John teases. Jemmy takes back his toy and goes back to playing by his mother.

If it had been anyone else, anyone else, he would have declared them all insane and been done with it. But it is three people he knows, people he admires that he knows to be intelligent and logical and level-headed, Jamie's temper notwithstanding. That is the only reason why, against his own logic and better judgment, he is still here listening. But even after all he has heard, he must ask one question no matter how he fears the answer.

"What, um, what about…love?"

"Love?" John can't answer and thankfully Brianna discerns his meaning, with a crooked little smile, "Love is love, Lord John. To make a very long story short, there's a group of people advocating for sexual liberation and breaking down traditional views about sex and gender that call themselves Hippies. They advocate for a more tolerant and open society where everyone is free to express themselves – particularly their sexuality – in whatever way they choose as often as they choose without judgment or persecution."

"Brianna…" her mother chides softly.

"What?" Brianna shrugs in response and it makes him smile even more. Apparently propriety was still something of an issue in the future and it's no surprise that Brianna ignores that as well.

"So that is why both of you were neither shocked nor disgusted when you found out…"

"Well, I wouldn't say I wasn't shocked," Claire admits with an almost fond smile. Surely, he is imagining that part.

"Again, it's not perfect, people attracted to their own gender don't go around in public as there are still some places it's looked down upon. But it's no longer a death sentence – men can be with men, women with other women, whites with blacks…"

His eyes close, letting his imagination run wild with what it would be like to live in such a world. To not be so alone for fear of ruination or death. Finally able to express all the things he has had to keep buried his entire life. And not just him and people like him, slaves are free and able to love whomever they wish. Whether he is happy to hear that it eventually will be safe and acceptable one day, or only sad and slightly bitter that he now knows about it but will not be alive to see it, he isn't sure.

"Does anyone else know about this?"

"Only Young Ian…and Murtagh." Jamie says, sadly.

"I see…" Now he understands what Jamie meant. Technically they are not lying, they never have been. Brianna is from Boston, and she is going to return there, or to Scotland. She will be in the future simultaneously living and moving forward as they are here. Judging by Jamie's words, for some reason, he cannot travel as they can. Jamie has said goodbye more than once and been separated from his family in the cruelest of ways. He would go with them – his wife, daughter, and grandson – he wants to go with them, but John now understands that Jamie will always be here. It breaks his heart even more. "Well, what's one more secret…" he says it more to himself, but Claire responds.

"Are you alright?"

What could he possibly say to that?

"I am grateful that you told me. After all this time…everything makes so much more sense now." He rises from the chair, draping his coat over his arm, "William and I are supposed to have dinner. I think despite his anger I should at least go and see if he showed up."

"Would you like some company?" Jamie offers.

"Thank you, but no. I would like some time alone to think…"

"Well, we'll be here if you want to talk or anything…" Brianna says. John bows with a grateful smile, bidding them all goodnight.

He's not sure when the sun had set but it is dark as he walks the short distance to the tavern. He could blame the whiskey for his head aching, but not for the way his muscles ache down to his bones from sitting so long in the same rigid position. He genuinely feels as though he has aged ten years in the last few hours.

Reaching the tavern, he peers in through the window to see if William is inside. When he does not see him, he falls against the wooden post, not quite ready to go in yet. Inhaling a deep breath of fresh air and the faint scents of salt and seaweed, he holds his breath, then exhales with a heavy sigh as his eyes close. This may be one of the last nights where such a peaceful moment is even possible, if they are to be believed. A tea party…such an odd turn of phrase to kick off a long and bloody conflict. What exactly did throwing barrels of perfectly good tea into the harbor accomplish?

He huffs, suppressing the urge to laugh. It's quiet despite all that is going on; quiet enough that he lets the torrent of thoughts crowding his mind take over.

What force or God or devil could move people through time? And why? As Claire said they couldn't change anything, except on a much smaller scale for the individuals they encounter. Somehow he just knows that saving lives here and now with future methods will have unimaginable consequences. People that died are now alive and will have children and descendants. Are new souls being created? As things change here are future families being added to and growing with people that wouldn't have existed otherwise?

Why is it only a few that can travel? Or is that how advancements are made? Sending exceptionally smart and skilled people to the past so society can benefit as a whole? They are the questions he wants answered the most, but they themselves have asked for years and still they have no answers. Other than William, they are the most important people in his life, he has never trusted anyone the way he trusts them with his deepest of secrets. Their friendship and acceptance is a blessing he never would have had otherwise.

Even though they have not spent much time together physically over the years, he tries to imagine what his life would be like without the Fraser's. If they are to be believed, the Battle of Culloden would have been fought regardless, Jamie likely had very little to do with it. Perhaps Hector would still have died; was John meant to die beside him? If Claire hadn't been here, would he and Jamie ever have met? Was he meant to die when he caught the measles, leaving his son an orphan? Would William even exist, or would John never have been his father? A life where he isn't Willie's father is one he wants no part of, he cannot even bear to imagine it. For as much as Claire says they can't really change anything, they've completely changed the course of his life more than once.

All he knows for sure is that the only reason any of this occurred – that any of them are here now as they are – is because Claire wanted to watch some pagans dance around giant stones. She isn't even Scottish; she wasn't born there, nor did she live there with her husband. It just so happened she and Frank were in Scotland at the time of Samhain, the night when the barriers between the physical world and the spirit world break down – an occurrence he once regarded with the same indifference as his other encounters with the supernatural. Theirs is the physical world full of everyday normality; the other world he now imagines must be full of not just spirits and ghosts, but of lost feelings and missed opportunities, of unspoken thoughts and loves unrealized.

What else could prompt one to travel through time except to correct something that led to an inconceivable amount of pain and regret?

He opens his eyes once more at the sound of approaching footsteps. The moon is full and bright above him and he can't help but smile.

"Papa?" comes his son's voice. John angles his head to see his son getting closer.

"William…"

Willie slows his pace once they are near side by side, "What are you smiling at?"

"The moon is full and bright tonight, is it not?" It's bright enough that they can see by it, and it allows him to see the confusion and almost amused concern on William's face. At that he looks up, takes a swift glance then turns back to John.

"Isn't it usually?"

"I don't know," John covers his smile, but once more finds himself breaking into laughter. The moon has been in the sky every night his entire life, but seeing it now feels different. Actually, he will never see it the same way again.

"Have you been drinking?"

"Not yet. Although my head is aching…" John giggles a little more, getting it out of his system. William doesn't respond, and he can feel his son staring at him. "I was not sure you would come."

"I did not intend to."

"I am grateful you changed your mind."

"Forgive me, Papa, I did not react in a gentlemanly manner when I heard your news. It was – it still is – a shock. I had no idea…"

"There is nothing to forgive. Brianna – Mistress MacKenzie – and I, have a relatively brief but complicated history. One day I will tell you if you wish to know." What had she said? It was only a few years ago, but it feels like a lifetime.

"At first I was upset, thinking of Mother. Then I realized you have spent your whole life focusing on me, especially after Mama died."

John laughs, "Well, yes, that is why they call it parenting."

"Yes, but, that is not what I mean." William joins him then, leaning against the other side of the post and looking up at the full moon, "Seeing you like that, the way you looked at each other, it makes me happy for you."

"Thank you, William, that is generous of you to say." It takes but a moment for his son's words to sink in, "How did we look at each other?"

"When you said she asked you first, you looked at her in a way I never saw you look at Mother. You looked…jovial, your face lit up, as did hers. In her eyes…it is obvious she adores you…"

"Obvious, is it?" John drops his gaze, perhaps he should encourage Brianna to minimize the expression of her affection for him. But being honest, hearing that fills him with immense joy. "I loved your Mother, William. I miss her…"

"I know, Papa. I miss her…more and more every day, it seems." Lest he be caught showing such emotion while in uniform, William clears his throat, "Is there a date set for the wedding?"

"Not as of yet. There is a war coming…"

"Has the Crown declared war? Is it official?" Again, the enthusiasm of his son's reaction worries him. It reminds him too much of himself just before Culloden when he wanted to prove something to his brother and be worthy of Hector. John received a cruel awakening during those days that led near to his ruin. Hopefully his son will be spared such a lesson, but at this point John fears it is inevitable.

"No, just a feeling."

It's an odd thing, saying something he now knows is certain and pretending he is just speculating. What if John had known the date and let it slip? When the event occurred just as he predicted, would he be looked at as a demon or warlock or some other evil creature using witchcraft to see the future? Just one more reason for them to burn him at the stake. He can understand now how Claire and Jamie's desire to help only led to trouble for them in completely unexpected ways.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I am famished. Shall we eat?"

"I'll be right behind you…"

"Say goodnight to the moon for me…" William teases over his shoulder.

"I shall," John replies, but his son is already inside. It is indeed a beautiful night: calm and warm and suddenly filled with mystery. Unlike England there are no clouds filling the sky that block his view. The moon remains the same, as always it is surrounded by stars, the very light of the universe that has been used to navigate and guide ships and sailors through black and endless oceans.

Once more, he imagines each of those stars and wonders what life is among them, if there are flags stuck in soil that is not their own. As if something so infinite could be declared by a single country on a distant planet. The longer he looks at the night sky the more questions he has, but for now, he must go inside and eat and act like his entire concept of reality hasn't been completely and irrevocably shattered.


Authors Notes: So yea this story completely got away from me, but it helped decide where I wanted to go with the fic. The rest is practically finished and should hopefully be done before or by the end of the holiday. Feel free to review! I hope you enjoyed it.