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[nineteenfortyfive]

Who: Claire Fraser (nineteenfortygive) & the children (Bree, Fergus, and... Theon)
What: Moving house.
When: Vague first week of November.
Where: Olympia
Warning(s): Added when needed.

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BREE

[nineteenfortyfive]

[While moving had been something discussed before, Claire never quite imagined a house of this size. It pays, apparently, to be in the right place and the right time and carry about medical supplies in addition to having a healing touch. It's quite the upgrade from the current home--more bedrooms than people, for one, and there's enough bathrooms to cut down the need for strategics on when to hop into the shower or bath.

The place needs work, as it wasn't untouched from the dragon's attack some months back and wasn't inhabited before, but the outside is pretty enough. It gives away the size, but Claire still makes a show of covering Bree's eyes and leading her up and inside. Carefully up the stairs, and down a carpeted hallway that smells like dust despite Claire opening some of the windows. Through a doorway, and...]

And here we are.

[She removes her hands from her daughter's eyes so she can see the room herself. The place is furnished, albeit with dated pieces covered in sheets to protect them from the elements, but Claire's gone around and tidied up this room as best she could without breaking her back. It's ridiculous compared to her previous room, with large windows, a closet, and her very own bath.]

I believe this covers your birthday gift.

[givingback]

[ Bree is incredibly...amazed. She had no idea what to expect but this? This wasn't it at all. She hasn't hated, necessarily, living in a full house, especially once Roger had to go home and she was alone in that house with too many memories attached. It was just space, really, the fight for a shower whenever she wanted. When her eyes are uncovered, there are a long few moments of shocked silence, and with the smell (not bad just old, maybe? she doesn't expect much.

But she was so wrong. ]

...Mama...

[ Looking at her for a moment in shock, she think starts walking around the room, running her fingers over the top of the dresser as a slow smile spreads and then she turns to look at her mother again. ]

I mean, 21 is a pretty big milestone.

[ She's joking, because her mother has worked hard for this, and now Bree just hugs her. ]

Thank you so much. This is...it's incredible. I'll help with whatever we need to do, if more cleaning needs to be done, I'll help.

[ Her mother did all the hard work of buying an entire house, after all. The least she can do is dust and mop. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Claire grins broadly. Jamie wasn't one for grand homes, but Lallybroch would have been Bree's place at one time. It's far cry from this, but maybe, just maybe, she hopes he'd be glad that his daughter would get to experience something bigger than their Boston apartment. The daughter of a laird wouldn't inherit land, but she'd at least get to live in the big house.

This seems a little more right than the smaller home they've had until now, and there aren't the ghosts of any Starks to haunt her.]

You're welcome, sweetheart. [Easily, she wraps her arms around her and keeps her near.] I hope you'll be happy here. Jamie would have wanted you to live in a place like this, I think.

[givingback]

[ When she does eventually pull away, it's only to sit on her bed and she tugs her mother with her. Then, she takes a deep breath and lets it out. ]

When I asked you, the first time, to tell me about Jamie it was when I still...didn't believe you.

[ Back in Scotland, before ever seeing a crazy woman burn her husband to go back in time. ]

And here, I've asked you about the two of you, together, because seeing the way your eyes change when you say his name, mama, I can tell when you're thinking about him. Your entire face...I can't explain it.

[ It's not like anything she'd ever seen before, not really. ]

But now I want to know more about him. Just him. How I'm like him, what we both like, what he was good at, what his flaws were. Is that okay? I mean, is that really okay?

[ Because she doesn't want her to be sad, to miss him even more than she already does. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Claire did her best to beat the dust out of the bed and the duvet that's nicely embroidered, but only God knows how old, but there's still a poof of dust when they sit. She withholds the urge to sneeze in favor of listening to Bree.

The sneeze is soon forgotten entirely as she feels her cheeks heat up. Oh, her daughter's got her number, now.]

It is very okay. He would have approached the question the same exact way, you know.

[givingback]

[ Bree notices the dust with dismay - she knows what she'll be doing before crawling into bed - but she reaches out and puts her hand over Claire's. ]

What do you mean?

[nineteenfortyfive]

That. This. [She turns her hand in Bree's so she lift the both of theirs.] You have the same sort of... consideration.

[Sometimes the youthful stubbornness overtakes it, but at the core, it's the same as Jamie's.]

You both worry about me in the same way.

[givingback]

That's because you worry about everyone else first, before you ever worry about yourself.

[ She'd grown up, at least in her older years, watching her mother worry about patients even at home, leave for emergencies, take urgent phone calls and make them, too. ]

Someone has to worry about you, too.

[ And she'll do it enough for both of them, while Jamie isn't here to do it. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

He took that up as his job even before we were wed. Only got worse after that.

[A ridiculous young man, promising to protect this woman he hardly knew and only just met.]

He'd be glad to know you're on his side. Traitor.

[How fondly she manages to say that word.]

FERGUS

[nineteenfortyfive]

Seeing as you're the man of the house, I thought you'd like your pick of the rooms.

[Unlike Bree, whose room was carefully chosen before Claire's even thought to pick her own, she leaves Fergus' room to him.]

It's no Parisian apartment, but I think once we get the dust and cobwebs out, and... patch the hole in the kitchen wall, we'll be happy here. What do you think?

[Settling a home isn't her forte. It's Jamie's. She could handle the home that she once shared with the Starks because, in her mind, it was always theirs. This is new. This is theirs.]

[claudel]

[ It's still strange, to think he's the man of the house. He should have anticipated it happening eventually, what with his marriage and plans for the future, but for some reason a part of him would always put that title on Jamie. Maybe because Fergus thinks he would never stray far from home, and home without Jamie is ... Odd.

It will take some getting used to.

He laughs, walking the hall to peer into the rooms. ]

Nothing is quite a Parisian apartment, but it is home. We will make it wonderful.

[nineteenfortyfive]

I knew I could count on your enthusiasm.

[Two of the three are interested, so Claire considers it a win. It is strange, this home that's never seen James Fraser, but in a way Claire thinks it's a good thing. A fresh start, with no ghosts of people now in stasis.]

There's even room for the horses here, so we'd not have to keep them in the city stables. That will be nice.

[claudel]

It will be a proper estate in no time.

[ Fergus doesn't mind a little hard work, and he wants to prove that he can be useful in Jamie's absence. Make him proud for when he comes back to them. ]

It is very kind of you to get this house for us.

[nineteenfortyfive]

I thought we could all use some more space. The other house is small for four people and three dogs.

[She makes a vague motion to the house around them.]

And this might be too big. But if anyone wakes up, we'll have the room for them. I'm thinking I might keep the other house, though. Just in case.

[If Marsali ever wakes up, she and Fergus might not want to live under mom's roof. She understands.]

But we'll keep that between you and I.

[claudel]

Your secret is safe with me.

[ And he presses a finger to his lips for good measure, but he's smiling behind it. ]

We should start cleaning, no? How is Bree when it comes to housework?

[ He only asks because she seems like she might be ... Precious about it. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Claire gets what he's trying to say. It's been no secret that Bree's a bit more... pampered, perhaps, than the other two young men. Still, she makes a show of crossing her arms and raising a brow, as if offended.]

Whatever do you mean, Fergus?

[claudel]

[ He knows good and well that Claire knows what he means, and he does his best to stifle some laughter. You have to tred carefully with these Fraser women. ]

I mean that perhaps she is not used to cleaning old manors and might find it difficult to start. I am sure in the future it is maybe not quite the task it was for us.

THEON

[nineteenfortyfive]

[It's easy to gauge Bree and Fergus's reactions. Bree, she's known her entire life. Fergus, while she's missed out on much of it, is a lot like Jamie. Theon? Well, it depends on the phase of the moon and the day of the week. She thinks he'll be glad to move into a finer home with more space so he can avoid them entirely, but she also knows there's a history to his home.

Assuming he's in his room, Claire hesitates outside the door for a long moment before knocking.]

It's me. Can I come in?

[reek]

[ Theon said long ago that he was certain he didn’t even know how to be happy, and now he’s sure he’ll never get the opportunity to attempt it. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. If he finds contentedness one week, it’s snatched away from him the next week. Why should he bother anymore?

When Claire comes to speak with him, he snaps angrily from behind the door. ]

No.

[ But it isn’t locked. Claire is absolutely free to come in anyway and find Theon sitting on the floor with his small pack of dogs, looking utterly miserable. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Oh, hell. Starting off like that, are we? Theon has his moods, but he's rarely snippy at her these days without cause. Or, what he thinks is cause. Claire considers asking what's wrong through the door, but when she tries the handle and finds it turns? Well, might as well go in and see the damage.

Quiver, the little traitor that he is, whimpers and crawls over to Claire as she shuts the door. If he truly wanted her out, he'd have been sure to lock it.]

What's wrong, Theon?

[reek]

[ He may have verbally denied her entry, but he doesn’t do anything more than glare at her when she actually does enter. He has too much else to worry about.

He would look awful if he were anyone else, but this is a man who returned from stasis looking like a corpse. The true sign that something is off is the fact that the parts of his appearance he can put effort into are in a state of disarray. He’s been raking his fingers through his hair, leaving it in a tangle, and little effort has been put into his clothing.

Caught somewhere between seething anger and tears, he reaches behind him and throws something onto the floor between them. Robb’s gloves, the pair that Claire had gifted him months ago. ]

I don’t want these.

[ He’s upset, he’s saying things he doesn’t mean. He doesn’t know what to do with his frustration, his guilt, his sadness. He doesn’t know what to do with any of it anymore. He has nothing to channel it into, and so everything throws him off balance. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

[Crouching, Claire picks up the gloves to see that they are Robb's, the ones she gave to Theon all those months ago when he came out of stasis. He'd been glad for it then, near tears and wearing them ever since, and so for him to toss them aside concerns her greatly. They're tucked into the pocket of her skirt. Sooner or later, she suspects he'll want them back.

Staying where she is, she clasps her hands in front of her.]

Talk to me, Theon. Tell me what happened. Why don't you want the gloves anymore?

[reek]

[ He laughs, that same unhinged sort of laugh he had been so fond of not so long ago, back when he trusted no one due to his paranoia and not because he expected them to hurt him. He’s clearly tightly wound, as though he might snap in two, and he probably would be pacing if he weren’t on the floor right now. ]

There’s no point. They’re not bringing him back.

[ He says enough without really meaning to. Robb is gone again, and he never got a chance to make things right. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

[And there it is. Claire feels her heart drop. She knows full well what this means for Theon.]

I'm so sorry.

[She'd go to him if she couldn't sense just how tightly wound he is. Instead, she holds a hand out to him. An offer of the only thing she's been able to do in these situations: the comfort of hiding against her.]

[reek]

[ He never has anything to channel all this anguish into. He just wants to be forgiven, he wants to be able to forgive himself, but he can’t do that without a word from Robb. It’s something that keeps eluding him again and again, time after time. He would rather be dead than go through this again.

He doesn’t want to be comforted. It won’t help. He merely stares at Claire’s hand with bloodshot eyes, refusing to take it. It won’t help. It won’t. ]

It doesn't matter. Nothing I do matters.