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Who: Brianna Randall (

givingback) & OPEN
What: Heading back to where everyone's hanging out in stasis.
When: September 12th.
Where: The Station
Warning(s): death of a parent conversations likely.

[ It's not even mid-month yet, and already, Bree's had a more exhausting September than she's ever had in her life. Her mother? Possessed - literally. That would be enough, but the ghosts, the wailing, the missing of the dead was all too much. Enough to push Bree into finally getting back to the station, back to where everyone is still in stasis.

It's not hard to find the room once there, and as she stares at all the pods she wonders how they choose who gets to wake and who doesn't. A daughter needs her father with her, right? Or maybe it's enough that she has her mother. Maybe it's enough that she has a father she doesn't even know well yet. Walking among the pods, she finds Frank easily enough. His glasses are on his face and she closes her eyes for a second against a laugh that's half amusement half...something else. ]

Can't forget your reading glasses.

[ She murmurs that softly, touching the pod feather lightly before looking up at his sleeping (?) face. ]

You have no idea how much I miss you. Sometimes, back home, it still felt like a dream. I keep walking back through that day because it seems so impossible. You were alive in the morning when I came downstairs. You were alive when I went to the library. You were alive when I was at the movie. And then you weren't. You were just gone. You were gone in between me buying popcorn and watching Tunga Khan executing all the missionaries. It isn't fair.

[ Taking a deep breath and wiping away a tear, she slides down and sits on the floor right by his pod. And she talks to him. About everything. He probably can't hear her, but she tells him she knows about Jamie, about the stones and all the rest of it, talking to him for hours before finally sounding like she's wrapping up. ]

I wish they would wake you up. I'm here, and we could have more time together. All you have to do is wake up, dad.

[ She's not even aware that anyone else has entered the room with her, sitting with her knees curled up to her chest. ]

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[Claire breathes out a laugh despite herself. If anyone knew Frank best, it was Bree. He was relaxed around her. Proud. Happy. Somehow, it never really mattered to him who her biological father was. As far as he was concerned he was her father, and he raised her well. Claire would never, ever deny that.]

You are alarmingly good at that.

[And right. It would be a lot for Frank, but ultimately his fascination would win over his apprehension. She's about to say as much when Bree asks about her own parents. It's not a sore spot these days, with so much time passed. Sometimes she finds herself longing for them, or marveling at the fact that she's lived to ages they were never able to. She takes a moment to consider, pulling up her knees and resting her chin on them.]

Truthfully, I don't remember much anymore. I was so young. I remember flashes of moments. The police coming to the house. Uncle Lamb telling me what happened. The funeral. Pulling up in front of a boarding school. [A thing Bree would know never happened, because Claire refused to go. And, Uncle Lamb, not wanting to argue with a child, decided to simply take her on his adventures.]

I don't remember the in-betweens or much of my life when they were alive. I was lucky in that way, I guess. I miss... feelings I had with my parents more than... how they looked, or sounded, or their mannerisms.

That makes sense.

[ At least Bree got twenty years. She has good memories, more than some people get, but there should have been so many more. ]

I asked Roger who would walk me down the aisle if I ever got married. Who'd be there to give me away? He said I was too modern to really need all of that anyway. Which, points to him, but it's not really about that.

[ She'd told her mother it was fine, she'd go on and it's true. Bree would have lived her life just fine even with a small ache that would never go away. Though it doesn't matter now, seeing as how they're all here and home has, apparently, been obliterated. ]

I miss the smell of daddy's pipe. I miss feeling safe because you were both there.

[It's one of the things Claire mourned that she'd miss--her daughter's wedding. Not so much an issue now. But she understands her meaning, and leans over to wrap her arms around her daughter, pulling her against her side so she can press a kiss to her temple.]

What can I do, Bree?

[ Bree actually curls close to her. ]

Just this right now.

[ Holding onto her, letting Bree hold on right back. ]

Not being alone is good.

[If she were just a tad smaller, Claire would pull her onto her lap. As it is, she's a bit too big, so Claire suffices with hugging her tightly.]

Never. I won't leave you alone even if you want me to.

[Not again.]

My sweet girl.

I mean. Sometimes is okay.

[ She laughs, only because it keeps her from crying in the moment, and then she's quiet. Talking like this, together and alone, curled close, feels like nights when she could lay in her mother's arms and tell her anything. Usually, it was about school or interesting things she'd discovered playing. Concerns small children have. ]

I started wearing your clothes because they smelled like you. For a second when I closed my eyes, you were still there.

So, what's your excuse here?

[She teases. If any of her clothing has been borrowed or gone missing, she hasn't noticed. She just wants to lighten her daughter's heart.]

I sincerely promise there's nothing in your closet here I want to steal.

[ Bree smirks, shaking her head. ]

All the things you use to put up your hair, though, different story.

[Rude, Bree. But Claire smiles, even if it's lost in her daughter's hair when she presses a kiss to her head.]

I see you haven't found a flatiron yet.

No. But it's okay for now. Maybe I will eventually, who knows. You haven't, and it suits you.

[ She looks so much younger (somehow, w/e) with all of those curls, even with the gray mixed in. ]

Besides, who do I have to here to go through the effort for? Roger likes it straight, but...

[ He's not awake, so he doesn't get a say. ]

[And it's much easier to maintain than her carefully constructed bobs from home. God, the amount of time she saves not painting her face or forcing her hair into shapes it doesn't want to be in.]

Roger would like you bald, Bree. He'd still look at you like you put the stars and moon in the sky.

[ She smiles softly at that, fondly. She should find him, too, just to see his face. ]

I know. Maybe it's me who likes it.

[ Laying beside him, his fingers raking through her hair without getting hung up and tangled in curls. But, no need to mention that. ]

I like the curls.

[No big surprise. Claire never made a fuss over what Bree did with her hair--and in a way it helped her not to think of Jamie every time she looked at her, though not by much--but it's nice to see it as it should be.

Poor Roger. Claire misses the young man, and wishes he'd wake, too. Though...]

I've been thinking. Do you think we need a bigger home? You're not too crowded by the boys, are you?

[Or the dogs.]

Yes to the bigger home. Absolutely, how can I help contribute toward making that happen?

[ No hesitation on her part. She feels like a recluse, staying in her room with the door always part-way open or closed altogether, but she doesn't like these dogs that aren't hers very much. ]

I don't mind living with everyone, it'd just be nice if we all had more space to ourselves, I think.

I'm not sure, yet. I'll have to ask around. But I'll let you know.

[Distraction is a success. Claire does think it might be time for a larger place, though.]

We could probably use another shower, definitely.

[Sometimes Claire just considers going over to Peggy and Steve's and borrowing theirs.]

[ Bree's definitely good and distracted now, and she thinks about it. ]

What's earning money like here? I mean, do you get paid for the work you do at the clinic?

I do. There are donations, too, but most of it goes right back into the clinic.

[Or the house.]

I have made some friends here, in Olympia. I'll see what I can find out about larger living spaces.

[ Bree hasn't moved from the confines of her mother's arms, staying there pretty willingly. ]

What kind of house do you live in now? In Scotland, I mean.

[ Yeah, she isn't really aware of all the crazy adventures yet. ]

[Claire's perfectly content to keep holding her daughter like this. She'd prefer it not be right in front of Frank's sleeping face, but she's not about to pry Bree away.]

House? [Yikes.] Well... we didn't really have a house. More or less, right when I got back, we set out on a ship for some months.

[There was a brief stay at a brothel, and then Lallybroch, but... those weren't home. Lallybroch wasn't even home anymore.]

It's not at all the same kind of life, is it? Do you like that better, or is it just a part of it, I guess?

[ She isn't sure if there's a calm version of this or if her mother simply gets into a lot of tough situations, more than normal. ]

Well. [Claire sighs, fingers twirling one of Bree's newly freed curls.] I was hoping for an actual home, going back, but it is different there. I loved our home in Boston, but there was always something that felt... not quite complete about it.

[They bought a home, then. They didn't make one. She's not sure if that's the difference or not.]

Well, for one you didn't have the husband you wanted.

[ She doesn't think at all for a second that Claire would trade being with Bree or raising her, but she really did leave so much behind. ]

And even with me, you still missing Fergus.

No matter where I was, I was going to be missing something. Or someone. There was no winning, Bree.

[She could never have her daughter and her husband--the husband she truly loved. To have one meant giving up the other.]

[ For some reason, that makes Bree want to comfort her mother, a reversal of their momentary roles, and she tightens her arms this time around Claire. ]

I know. It's okay, you don't...you never have to worry about whether or not I understand that part, because I do.

[ She may wonder about how Claire and Frank's love functioned, how it was different from the way she loved Jamie. But she doesn't really fault the decision making anymore. It was a situation no one had the right answer for. She gets that now. ]

I know. [Bree might have been angry when all of this came to light, but now Claire knows she understands. It was all for her.] And do you know what else?

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