âHave you really got to go, Mac?â he asked, in a very small voice.
âAye, I have.â He looked into the dark blue eyes, so heartbreakingly like his own, and suddenly didnât give a damn what was right or who saw. He pulled the boy roughly to him, hugging him tight against his heart, holding the boyâs face close to his shoulder, that Willie might not see the quick tears that fell into his thick, soft hair.
Willieâs arms went around his neck and clung tight. He could feel the small, sturdy body shake against him with the force of suppressed sobbing. He patted the flat little back, and smoothed Willieâs hair, and murmured things in Gaelic that he hoped the boy would not understand.
    ~ Voyager, Diana Gabaldon