#outlander fanfic relay team

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Outlander Fanfic Relay: Part 22

Previously, in the relay: 21, 20, 19, 18 ,17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This part is brought to you by @diversemediums! Over to @faeriesfanficemporium!!

Roger and I sat side by side on a fallen log, watching as Jamie tapped his fingers against his thigh, brows furrowed as he stared into the flames of the campfire. Considering the enormity of what we’d just revealed, he was taking it rather well. Trying to control my breathing, I noted every one of his features, comparing this Jamie to the one I knew in my own time.

This Jamie was younger, of course, but the familiarity of him caused a lump to form in my throat. The same long, straight nose. His cropped hair, reds and golds sparking off of each strand as the firelight hit it. His eyes were intelligent, discerning, and so blue when he’d looked at me.

“How is it that ye ken what ye say?” he asked, gaze meeting mine. “Why should I believe ye? Why should I believe any of it?”

I swallowed, feeling Roger’s encouraging squeeze on my shoulder.

“It’s… it’s hard to explain. I know it sounds mad…”

Jamie raised a brow, the corner of his mouth turning up in agreement. Still, he wasn’t calling me a witch yet.

“I know you,” I said softly. “You’re a Fraser.”

He snorted briefly.

“You have a sister,” I continued. “Janet. Your mother, Ellen, died in childbed when you were young.”

Jamie was still, face inscrutable.

“Your father, Brian, and your brothers Willie and Robert are also dead. Your family cemetery is on your family’s land. You have a godfather named Murtagh who has looked after you since you were a baby.”

I took a deep breath, stealing myself.

“I know these things because… you told them to me. The James Fraser in my time, I mean. It’s as if we all exist in a parallel story. The stories are similar, but never touch.” Tears started to well up at the disbelieving look he was giving me. “I know it sounds crazy. I do. But it’s the truth. I’ve seen it. Every version of ourselves living and… being torn apart, away from each other…”

I was truly weeping now but I pushed on.

“We came here because we wanted to warn you.”

I felt Roger nodding his head next to me. We had omitted Roger’s full part in all of this. Our tale was fantastical enough as it was. Jamie sighed and met my eyes directly.

“Why would ye warn me? If pain is what is brought then why strive to save what wilna survive?” Jamie asked.

He didn’t seem angry, merely curious. Desperate and looking into the same face of the man I loved and left on the other side of those stones, I said the only thing that mattered.

“Because I would walk through fire, time, and even death for you Jamie Fraser.”

Jamie took a deep breath as he looked at me, eyes searching my face. He looked almost sad… perhaps regretful.

“I dinna ken ye, Sassenach,” he said softly. “Nor do ye ken me.”

“You will,” I replied. “You’ll find me. Or, I’ll find you.”

A sudden crack of branches made us all jump. I saw Jamie loosen the dirk at his belt, body tense and still as footsteps approached.

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Outlander Fanfic Relay: Part 20

Previously, in the relay: 19, 18 ,17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This part is brought to you by @nandan11! Next up is @yanceyrenee!

Claire sat down on the loveseat in Frank’s study and accepted the glass of whisky he offered her. “How have you been?” Frank asked.  Claire took a sip of the amber liquid. “I am so sorry for bursting in on you this way—it’s just that a rather important issue has come up and, crazy as it may be, I need to know, rather urgently, if Jonathan Wolverton Randall is an ancestor of yours?”

“I see,” Frank responded as he studied the woman sitting before him whom he had dated for almost five years. She hadn’t changed much in the intervening years they were apart. Her hair was dark with riotous curls; her skin still beautifully pale and luminescent,  like pearls. Her eyes were different today though—still the light amber color, but with an edge. Was it panic, he thought? No. It was more of a determinedness he recognized all too well. That drive she had to become a doctor. To excel in medical school, to be top in her class. A relentless drive that he could not tame or even compete with. That was the downfall of their relationship he thought.

May I ask why you need this information? And so urgently?” Frank asked.  “I’m afraid it is rather complicated, and in the interest of time, could you just take my word for it now?”Claire pleaded. “Alright, let me find my notes.”

While rummaging through his desk, Frank told her he had traveled to Scotland last summer to learn more about the 1745 Jacobite Rebellion and to see if any of his ancestors may have played a role in the uprising.

“Found it!” he exclaimed.  Frank began spreading out the papers and documents on the coffee table.

“Frank, would you mind if I asked a young historian to join us?” Claire asked. “He is the son of one of my colleagues, and he is most interested in this era of Scottish history,” Claire lied. “He’s actually in the car outside.”

“Oh,” Frank replied, slightly confused. “No, of course not. I do tend to get carried away and I’m happy to help a fellow historian any way I can.”

“Wonderful!  I’ll run out and ask him to join us,” she responded.

Introductions were made and another dram of whisky in hand, Frank  proceeded to explain what he knew about Jonathan Wolverton Randall.

Claire took notes and Roger asked as many pertinent questions that he could think to ask.  Thanking Frank for his knowledge and time, the two, armed with their valuable information, made their way back to the hospital.

All the tests being completed, it was indeed confirmed that Brianna was a match for Jamies’s new kidney. After a consult with Jamie, Claire, Bree and the surgeon, the transplant surgery was scheduled in one week.  Although Claire would have preferred the surgery date be sooner, Roger pointed out there was more preparation still needed before heading through the stones. It was decided that their “traveling” would wait until after surgery was completed and Brianna was well enough to look after Jamie.

In the meantime, all four met for hours during the week leading up to the surgery, thoroughly planning out what could or should be taken, clothes to be worn, coins to be somehow be obtained, etc. And, by some miracle, Roger was able to find an  old Scottish map of Broch Mordha and the surrounding countryside at the Scottish Antiquities and Historical Society.  Claire also decided it would be prudent to smuggle some 21st  medication with her, in case of an emergency. They plotted how to get to Lallybroch by foot from Craig ‘na dun, determined where Castle Leoch and the surrounding MacKenzie lands were and where Fort William was located.  Most importantly, their cover story as well as their respective histories were well rehearsed, so when they arrived in 1742 Scotland their circumstances would be believed.

The surgeries were a success and after all the meticulous planning it was time for Roger and Claire to bid their farewells.  Jamie was resting comfortably in the step-down ICU and Claire was holding his hand. “‘Tis time lass, eh? To say our goodbyes.” Claire laid her head on Jamie’s chest and couldn’t talk. She knew if she did she would start crying.  Jamie put his large hand in her curls.  “It’s going to be okay, Sassenach.  I trust you and Roger will be successful. But, please take care and dinnae do anything foolish. I know I don’t have to remind ye it is a different time, and independent women will not be takin kindly to. Please, I beg ye to be mindful.”  

She nodded in agreement, gently hugged his midsection and then placed a long, tender kiss on his soft lips. When they broke apart, Jamie wiped away her tears then she rose and walked out of his hospital room.

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Outlander Fanfic Relay: Part 21

Previously, in the relay: 20, 19, 18 ,17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This part is brought to you by @yanceyrenee ! Next up is @diversemediums!!

Their biggest worry, out of many, was what would happen if Claire was to meet up with her past, or is it present self? They are unsure how to avoid this possibility. After all, they must, by necessity go to all the places where Claire and Jamie are likely to be. It is easier for Roger. He has no past/ present self here. But Claire..well they have no choose.

“ Are you ready for this?” Roger asks her. They stand before the stones at Craig ‘na Dun. They can hear the horrid sounds of the past at war with itself and feel the pull so they know it will work. They are dressed in 18th Century clothes and armed with all the knowledge they will need to survive, as well as some 21st medicine hidden in the folds of Claire’s dress. They are ready. But.

“ No. But we must.” Roger holds out his hand and they move towards the center stone. With a deep breath and outstretched hands, they touch it. And for an endless eternal moment, are lost in the center of time. It felt like they are present at the start of creation, at the center of the chaos. And then they are free.

“ Oh bloody hell, are you okay Claire?”

“ I believe so. That was..”

“ Aye. Did we make it?”

They look around. The hill seems the same. Until they look closer. No it isn’t. There are more trees and some are smaller. Keeping tight hold on each others hands, they work there way down. No modern electric poles, no roads, and the air itself is different, cleaner. So in the past then. But are they in the right time?

They venture further. A ways past the bloody awful hill and it’s standing stones. They had decided to head towards Inverness. But before they got a good start, before they got more than a half a kilometer away..

“ Jamie!” his name is ripped from her throat before she thinks of the consequences. For it is Jamie. The same impressive height, the same fiery red hair, the same confident stance; wrapped in a more Viking Highlander man.

“ Aye. And who would ye be ma’am?”

[outlanderfanficrelay-blog]

Outlander Fanfic Relay: Part 19

Previously, in the relay: 18 ,17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

Hi guys! It’s @internallydeceased​! I apologize for the long wait and the short length of this part. @nandan11 you’re up!

“Wait, Randall?” Claire asked, eyes lighting with recognition.

Two sets of ruddy brows furrowed as Jamie and Brianna looked to her. “Do you know someone by that name?” They chimed at the same time, the relation between father and daughter unmistakable.

“I dated someone named Frank Randall in high school. Do you suppose they’re related?”

“Could be. There’s only one way to find out. Do ye ken where he is now?”

Pulling up outside the ornate building, memories raced through Claire’s mind. She’d dated Frank for nearly five years, and she thought she loved him. As it turned out, she didn’t even know what love was—not until now.

Jamie and Brianna stayed behind at the hospital to make arrangements for the transplant, and Roger drove Claire here: find out where—and when—this ‘Black Jack’ was.

She raised her fist to knock on the front door but hesitated, second-guessing the entire thing.

Then she remembered what Brianna—her daughter—had said.

“And if you don’t survive, the version of me that’s supposed to be born in this story, will never exist.”

She had to ensure Brianna’s survival, as well as Jamie’s.

“Clai— what are you doing here?” Frank sputtered, absolutely dumbfounded.

Claire gave him a slight smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m actually here about one of your ancestors. At least I think he’s your ancestor.”

Frank shook his head as if to clear the confusion from his mind. He stepped to the side, allowing her to enter.

“Could you be more specific? I have many ancestors.” He crossed to the sideboard and grabbed a decanter of whisky and two glasses, pouring each of them a generous amount.

Claire crossed to a small loveseat in the corner of the room and sat down, her feet curled beneath her. “Jonathan Wolverton Randall, otherwise known as ‘Black Jack.’”

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PSA

Hello people, this is @kalendraashtar! Our next writer scheduled in the relay @moghraidhjamie will have to move a couple of places down the line for (good) reasons, so the next update will be brought to you by the amazing @marlosbooknook! Bear in mind this will mean a bit more time for the next update, but I’m sure it will be worth it!

You can catch up with the updated writer’s list here!

[outlanderfanficrelay-blog]

PSA

Hey, this is @kalendraashtar here! Just to let everyone know the writer’s list has been updated, so you can catch up with the updated team for the relay here!

[outlanderfanficrelay-blog]

Outlander Fanfic Relay #14

Hi guys! @whiskynottea here, with Chapter 14!! @romancoin you’re up!! :) 

It’s been a while, so if you need to refresh your memory...

Previously 13 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

@abbydebeaupreposts left us at Master Raymond’s...

There was a small man half-hidden in a corner speaking in a thick French accent.

“That is fine, Delphine, wrap it in the—Madonna!” he said sharply as he caught sight of Claire, but hadn’t yet seen Jamie entering after her. “You left it a little late. I feared all might truly be lost this time. Have you found him, the Red Man?”

I had found Master Raymond by accident, I had stepped into his shop one day in search of a painkiller. It was the darkest, weirdest pharmacy I’d ever been to. Things became more awkward when he started calling me “Madonna” and proceeded to act like he knew me. I’d listened to him with half an ear and one eye on the door.

Now I was entering through that same door with Jamie by my side. I’d brought the Red Man, the one Raymond had mentioned the first day I met him. Back then, I had thought he was a lunatic. Now, I wasn’t sure if he was normal or we were a bunch of schizophrenics who had just found each other.

But that couldn’t be. These dreams were more real than anything else in my life.

Jamie’s grip on my hand tightened the moment he heard Raymond talk about the Red Man. I squeezed back.

I am here. We’re in this together.

“Oh, good. You did find him.” Raymond let out a breath, relieved.

“Hello, Master Raymond,” I greeted with a shaky smile, “This is Jamie.”

“I know, I know. Come with me, you two.” He walked to the back of the store and opened a door leading to another room.

We entered the room and sat on a couch, surrounded by bookshelves with animal bones. Jamie’s eyes locked with mine as we settled ourselves, his question obvious. Are you sure? I nodded and heard him gulp. He could see the uncertainty in me, just as he’d seen everything in me, but I was as sure about this as I’d ever be. His hand trailed across my back and settled on my waist pulling me closer to him. I placed my hand on his thigh, my thumb moving absentmindedly on his taut muscle, stroking invisible lines on his jeans.

“You’re a bit late, but we can still fix it,” Raymond said without introduction.

“Fix it? The dreams?” Jamie asked eagerly.

“Oh, no. The dreams will stop only if you fix the story. In that timeline.”

Our hearts were beating to the same rhythm, our breaths lifting our chests in a synchronized dance that brought life into our bodies – the life we’d seen brutally taken on the pyre and gallows. Raymond confirmed our suspicions about vibrations and quantum physics, alternative universes that interact with ours and the rare connection we experienced. A connection linking us not only to each other, but to our other selves as well. These selves that had loved unconditionally and were now pleading for help with the last whisper left in their bodies.

 Change it.

 As if reading our minds, Raymond continued, “Telepathy is not enough, this universe is not that close to yours. You can jump in there through a dream, but all you can do is observe. If you want to help, you'll have to use the stones. You have to go there, physically.”

 “What?” Jamie and I exclaimed in the same, incredulous voice. His hand pulled me even closer – if that was possible – trying to protect me from what was coming for us.

Our hearts two Scottish drums beating for war.

[ladygloucester]

OMG!!!! @bonnie-wee-swordsman This is so fucking good!!! 👏👏👏

Outlander Fanfic Relay #4

This is @bonnie-wee-swordsman for #4 of the Outlander Fanfic Relay!

1, 2, 3

“Doctor Beauchamp?”

“Claire, sweetie, are you okay??”

“DOCTOR, can you hear me?”

Yes, I could bloody hear them all as my eyelids fluttered open, but barely.

The shouts and concerned questions of my colleagues were hardly a whisper over the remembered roar of that screaming—mine—hardly discernible over the whish and THWACK of the scourge as it ripped that poor man, tore him, flayed him open to the—

“Get her feet!” someone said urgently from near at hand in the room, “Here, help me—”

“There now, Lady Jane, you’re alright, just like th—”

“Take her down to—” 

“I’m fine,” I snapped, yanking free of all the hands, knocking heads with someone as I staggered to my feet. “FINE,” I hissed again, rubbing my head and swaying violently, shoulders caved in as I muttered something about not eating enough that day.

As the terrified onlookers wisely gave me space, I reached out and grabbed a familiar hand. “Joe—” He caught my elbow to steady me, but I was leaning close on purpose so that only he could hear. “Did I—scream?”

“Did you what, now?”  

“Before I passed out…. Did I—cry out or anything?”

“No, LJ,” he said at once, shaking his head, “just went out like a light and dropped without a sound.”

Then check me in to psych, Joe. Get me a prescription that makes it so I never have to see that man being tortured again; never have to feel my own throat ripping apart as I hear myself scream: ‘Take me instead.’  

“You’re lucky that the orderly caught you before you cracked your skull op—”

But I was no longer listening to Joe. I was looking over his shoulder.

James was standing—not sitting, like the other patients—standing before me in the crowd of onlookers, blood running down his arm from where the IV tubes had been violently yanked free. Two or three of the nurses were anxiously trying to coax him back down into the seat, to see to his lines mended immediately, but he was as still as stone and just as immovable. He was staring down at me with the same pale terror as that electrifying my own body, those eyes boring into mine with such intensity—

“Did you?” My voice was a chilling rasp. “Did you see it too?”

When he spoke, the room at once buzzed and stirred.

“What did he say?” someone hissed.

“Was that German?”

“Sir, what did you just say?”

“Did he just speak in TONGUES?” 

But to my sheer, blood-curdling horror, I understood the foreign words immediately, without a second’s thought or translation: ‘I heard you scream.’

@mibasiamille​, YOU’RE UP

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Outlander Fanfic Relay #8

Hello everyone! @moghraidhjamie here with #8 of the Outlander Fanfic Relay! Thanks again, team, for letting me jump down a few places.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Sassenach. It was usually a mild insult from a Scot to an Englishman or Englishwoman. But on his lips, it sounded right. It sounded like home.

"I...” I swallowed hard, my heart still in my throat, “I saw you, too.”

His hand raised as though to touch me before lowering again. I shakily stepped back in a gesture of invitation. Nodding his thanks, he stepped inside. As he passed me, I struggled against a bone-deep instinct to touch him.

Another door -- wood and iron. He wore a kilt and a vest over a loose shirt, and had a blade of some kind strapped to his side. He smiled and gave me a quick, familiar kiss as he passed, walking into a bedroom that I somehow knew to be ours.

I blinked away the image that had layered itself over the scene in front of me. When I looked at him, I saw that James also seemed to be trying to refocus his eyes.

“Did you--”

“Aye.” When his eyes focused, they were locked on my lips. I swallowed and turned, my hands shaking as I closed the door behind him. I silently led him to my still-dark living room where we sat on the couch, knees brushing, seeing only by the light of the streetlamps outside the window.

Our hearts beat, our breaths matched. We were, the both of us, at a loss for words.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed, taking simple comfort from his presence and the pressure of his knee against mine, before I broke the silence.

“What’s happening to us?”

He shook his head, “Dinna ken. But I,” he paused, formulating his thoughts before speaking with a heavy significance, “I know you.”

He knew me. He knew my heart, he knew my soul, he knew every part of me as I knew him.

“We’ve barely spoken.”

“I canna explain it.” He reached out, taking my hand in his. “When ye touch me, it warms me, Sassenach. It feels like--”

“Like coming home.”

You are my home now. It was an echo of a whisper, murmured in some far-off dream that didn’t feel like a dream at all. I shuttered.

“Aye. Just so.”

I twinned our fingers together, his hand inexplicably familiar in mine. “What was that dream? The field... all those men.”

He shook his head. “It dinna feel like a dream.” Seemingly moved by the same fear and bone-deep instincts that I was struggling against, he quietly asked, “May I?”

I wasn’t sure what exactly he was asking, but I nodded. He gently pulled me into his arms and, in an instant, the air felt lighter and it was easier to breathe. Safe. Safe. He is safe. I wrapped my arms under his overcoat and slid my hands across his back, nothing but our thin cotton t-shirts separating us.

His back felt smooth under the shirt. I felt conversely shaken and relieved by the absence of scars.

Blood everywhere, covering his back. His hands, tied to a post.

I pressed my face into his warm neck and tightened my arms, holding him to me. My Jamie. My love.

I didn’t know what the hell was happening, or why, but in that moment I knew beyond any doubt that I loved him, and that he was mine.

Over to you, @akb723

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Outlander Fanfic Relay: Part 24

Previously, in the relay: 23, 22, 21, 20, 19, 18 ,17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This part is brought to you by @technicallysizzlingcloud. @owlish-peacock36, you’re next!

“Are you mad, woman?” Murtaugh rounded on, beard nearly quivering with outrage as his hands flew in the air.

“Are you mad, woman?” Jamie, his beautiful hair done tied back with ribbon, some sort of century-piece attire-Versailles. The red tinting over his cheeks and ears as he surveyed the scarlet dress making her chuff and hide a smile behind her fan.

“Claire,” Roger’s concerned voice and gentle touch to her shoulder brought her abruptly out of the vision, the jarring sensation of slipping through times making her sway a moment before she shrugged him away.

“…some sort of witchcraft and then they admit to spying on ye lad, and now they’re saying they prophesy ye being flogged and want us not to kill the man who would do it? I say hand them over to the hangman’s noose and be done–” Despite the alarming words something in the tone, the strangely familiar overarching hand movements from the little man made Claire smile even as she ached with longing.

Longing for a life she could scarcely remember. Longing for a life that had somehow gone…adrift.

“Now wait one moment, ye feisty old bag.” Jamie stepped in, physically imposing himself between his godfather and the two intruders. “They haven’t done us any harm yet and the lady…”

His jaw involuntarily twitched, as if he had to resist turning back to Claire. “…Murtaugh, I remember some of what she’s saying. I dinna ken how, but I believer her. I dinna understand it a bit but I trust–”

“–you. Your word. Your heart. I trust there is a truth between us. ” She could still smell the pyre on her clothes, hear the cries of Gellis Duncan ringing in her ears as they dragged her away. The shock of the smallpox vaccination, the resounding chord of its meaning, made her hands shake. And the sting of rejection she had been so sure was coming, it had been curling her shoulders inward until the words…those words, his words.

They didn’t register at first, just like a large stone had been borne from her back and taken to the wind. Claire caught his eyes those, those soft, warm dark eyes that offered no judgement, no condemnation like the villagers that just escaped. Slowly, like waves lapping at the shore she understood.

He believed her.

Jamie crossed over to the fallen log, Claire’s sense of peace spreading with his presence, suddenly hearing the calm buzz of dragonflies, the slow song of wind between the trees.

She was forming words, she knew, answering all his questions in a rush of words, but her entire world was focused on the large palm that rested on her knee. The thumb that made soothing circles through the heavy fabric of her dress, the way her fingers gripped it as the last lifelines, the physical reassurance that she was not alone. He believed her. Jamie was here. Jamie was—

“Claire!” “Sassenach!” “Lass!”

There was a cacophony of noises when she awoke next, in another forest. For a long moment, Claire simply blinked, too confused. She was on the ground but she had been sitting on the log just a moment ago and she doubted very much Jamie would have let her keel over even if she fell asleep. And there was Murtaugh but who was the strange man on Jamie’s other side, the one with the oddly familiar dark, round eyes?

“Claire, are you alright? You just dropped and your eyes were–did you remember something else?” The stranger asked, not unkindly.

Before she could even begin to process and answer through, Jamie–Jamie but something was off. His frame seemed smaller than it had moments ago, those bright eyes a little less dark even as those large hands frantically, yet gently, lifted her from the leaves onto his bent knee. He turned her onto her stomach, her diaphragm protesting slightly against his hard thigh until one hand moved to tug her forward so she could rest her cheek against his other leg, her body comfortably sprawled over his lap. His fingers went digging frantically at the laces of her dress, a move that would have been invasive if her head wasn’t still swarming, if the only thing she truly recognized was the sense of safe she had in the arms of the man above her.

“Christ, man what under god’s name do you think you’re doing, undressing the lass for all the world to see?”

Jamie’s response was terse and in Gaelic, his movements not stopping.

“What marks? Jamie lad, you turned white as a ghost when the lassie dropped. What are you both on about?” Murtaugh’s voice began to jar her back to awareness.

The stranger, the other man. His name was Roger. He was from the future, like she was. But some other future? One where Jamie had been her patient?

The gentle caress of his palm against her smooth back returned what was left of her scattered thoughts back into her head, her breath gasping as the pieces fell into place, sinking deep into her bones.

“There was a trial, a burning.” Jamie explained to his godfather, his voice shaky despite the even measure of his touch along her back. “They…they belted the lass. I just…I needed to be sure.”

“You went back then too? When she did?” Roger, Roger ever the scientist. His voice sounded muffled and I realized he and Murtaugh most have turned around to give us some measure of privacy.

“Aye, that I did.”

She wanted to linger in that moment, in the simple touch of the man she loved and forget, even for moments, about timelines and Black Jack Randall and the fate of Roger and Bree–oh gods, her daughter Brianna.

But if Jamie was started to slide back and forth with her it meant–

“I don’t understand, how is this nonsense happening?” And a small, tiny part of her wanted to smile because even as the world was falling apart, Murtaugh remained the same.

But then she remembered and Claire took a final deep breath, pushing up on her elbows but not fleeing Jamie’s embrace as he took the cue to lace her back up. She stared into the face that she so loved, her heart lodging itself in her throat as she simply knew.

“It was me.” Claire felt her voice shake, her fingers digging into Jamie’s arms. “I’m the one who changed the original timeline, changed all this.”

Another breath.

“I’m the one who went back to kill Black Jack Randall.”

[outlanderfanficrelay-blog]

Outlander Fanfic Relay: Part 17

Previously, on Outlander Fanfic Relay:

16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

@lenny9987 here. Closer to 600 words than 500. Oops. You’re next @thescarlettpeacock!

The dialysis machine beeped and Claire turned to read the monitor but froze.

“Does it even matter?” she asked, turning slowly to him.

“Of course it does. If we’re going to fix it—”

“But we can’t fix it. Or at least you can’t. You can’t go through the stones.”

Jamie frowned at her but before he could open his mouth to argue she continued frantically.

“Whatever we have to do it won’t be quick or easy and whatever we find there I doubt it will be anywhere near a hospital that can treat you.”

Jamie shut his mouth for a moment, eyes hardening. “You’re not going alone,” he insisted.

“And I’m not going to let you go if it’s just going to kill you,” Claire snapped back.

There was a knock at the door and Joe was in the doorway.

“Sorry am I… interrupting something?” He glanced between Claire and Jamie.

“No,” Claire assured, standing and putting a more professional level of distance between them.

“There’re some people here to see Mr. Fraser. I think the young woman’s his cousin or something…” There was uncertainty in Joe’s voice. They all knew Jamie’s sister, Jenny, her husband, Ian, or Jamie’s godfather, Murtagh, were the only ones who ever gave him rides to and from his dialysis. Even Jamie looked confused.

“Thanks J—Dr. Abernathy,” a young woman’s voice said from the hallway before she pushed past him and into the room. “We’ll take it from here.”

Even Jamie couldn’t hide the shock as he took in the tall red-headed young woman who was pulling a dark-haired and green-eyed man in behind her. The resemblance between the unnamed woman and Jamie was too strong for them not to be related somehow.

Joe left with an inquisitive look at Claire.

“I’ll give you all some privacy,” Claire sputtered.

“Ye dinna need to go, Claire,” the dark-haired man said quietly with a glance over his shoulder to the door. He poked his head out to be sure Joe had gone and then closed and locked it. “What we’re here about concerns you too.”

“Who are you?” Jamie asked firmly.

“My name is Brianna and this is Roger,” the red-headed woman said. “I’m your daughter—sort of.”

Claire wobbled on her feet and Jamie reached for her, pulling her down to sit in the chair closest to him.

“We know what you need to do—that you need to fix your story. We’re here to help you,” Brianna explained vaguely, her eyes shining as she looked at the pair of them.

“You… know?” Jamie asked, wary. “How?”

“Cause this story, is affecting our story,” Roger chimed in. “We’ve seen ye try to fix it on yer own and… Jamie, if you go, ye wilna survive.”

“And if you don’t survive, the version of me that’s supposed to be born in this story, will never exist,” Brianna finished.

“And… how do you suppose you’re going to help us?” Claire asked.

“I’m going to stay here with Da—Jamie,” Brianna corrected herself, “and take care of him while he recovers from his surgery.”

“Recovers? What surgery?” Jamie turned to Claire who had tears in her eyes and was staring gratefully at Brianna, recognizing or realizing something.

“And I’ll go with Claire through the stones to fix yer story that’s gone wrong,” Roger said. “From what Ray told us, the connection ye have to each other is like the one Bree and I have and it should hold even when we’re in different… timelines.”

“But I dinna understand,” Jamie said quietly, addressing Claire. “What surgery?”

“She’s offering you a kidney,” Claire whispered.

[ladygloucester]

OH MY FUCKING GOOOOOD!!!!!

@moghraidhjamie you just knocked me off my feet!!!!!!!

Outlander Fanfic Relay #8

Hello everyone! @moghraidhjamie here with #8 of the Outlander Fanfic Relay! Thanks again, team, for letting me jump down a few places.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Sassenach. It was usually a mild insult from a Scot to an Englishman or Englishwoman. But on his lips, it sounded right. It sounded like home.

“I…” I swallowed hard, my heart still in my throat, “I saw you, too.”

His hand raised as though to touch me before lowering again. I shakily stepped back in a gesture of invitation. Nodding his thanks, he stepped inside. As he passed me, I struggled against a bone-deep instinct to touch him.

Another door – wood and iron. He wore a kilt and a vest over a loose shirt, and had a blade of some kind strapped to his side. He smiled and gave me a quick, familiar kiss as he passed, walking into a bedroom that I somehow knew to be ours.

I blinked away the image that had layered itself over the scene in front of me. When I looked at him, I saw that James also seemed to be trying to refocus his eyes.

“Did you–”

“Aye.” When his eyes focused, they were locked on my lips. I swallowed and turned, my hands shaking as I closed the door behind him. I silently led him to my still-dark living room where we sat on the couch, knees brushing, seeing only by the light of the streetlamps outside the window.

Our hearts beat, our breaths matched. We were, the both of us, at a loss for words.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed, taking simple comfort from his presence and the pressure of his knee against mine, before I broke the silence.

“What’s happening to us?”

He shook his head, “Dinna ken. But I,” he paused, formulating his thoughts before speaking with a heavy significance, “I know you.”

He knew me. He knew my heart, he knew my soul, he knew every part of me as I knew him.

“We’ve barely spoken.”

“I canna explain it.” He reached out, taking my hand in his. “When ye touch me, it warms me, Sassenach. It feels like–”

“Like coming home.”

You are my home now. It was an echo of a whisper, murmured in some far-off dream that didn’t feel like a dream at all. I shuttered.

“Aye. Just so.”

I twinned our fingers together, his hand inexplicably familiar in mine. “What was that dream? The field… all those men.”

He shook his head. “It dinna feel like a dream.” Seemingly moved by the same fear and bone-deep instincts that I was struggling against, he quietly asked, “May I?”

I wasn’t sure what exactly he was asking, but I nodded. He gently pulled me into his arms and, in an instant, the air felt lighter and it was easier to breathe. Safe. Safe. He is safe. I wrapped my arms under his overcoat and slid my hands across his back, nothing but our thin cotton t-shirts separating us.

His back felt smooth under the shirt. I felt conversely shaken and relieved by the absence of scars.

Blood everywhere, covering his back. His hands, tied to a post.

I pressed my face into his warm neck and tightened my arms, holding him to me. My Jamie. My love.

I didn’t know what the hell was happening, or why, but in that moment I knew beyond any doubt that I loved him, and that he was mine.

Over to you, @akb723