sugu with an overworking student reader… i am starved…
the overworked students flock to him at this time of year……… HE’S A REALLY GOOD CHOICE THOUGH. in general suguru really is very good at both gentle discipline and positive affirmation, so he’s a good mix of what you need. won’t hesitate to stop you from burning yourself out (he’s good at persuading you, but if you’re being stubborn he’ll shut it down decisively), and simultaneously isn’t shy about slathering on the praise you so obviously yearn for but don’t know how to ask for (especially when you might already be struggling with feeling unworthy of attention due to studying-related self doubt, or procrastination, or anything else of that nature). he’s good at reading you. doesn’t like seeing you stressed, but that’s just more incentive for him to guide you out of it. he’s a good study buddy too ……..👁️👁️ tries to restrain himself from kissing you when you make a cute focused face. is mostly successful. (he deserves a little reward for helping, no?…)
but really i think he mostly wants you to remember to take care of yourself (<- hypocrite who Forgets to take care of himself LOL). take breaks, don’t skip meals, don’t be afraid to ask for help if things start to feel overwhelming. suguru is very anti shame which AGAIN is quite ironic lol. he doesn’t want you to feel ashamed about your struggles ever. not with him. ultimately, and i will say this over and over again, he wants to be your safe space. that’s what makes him feel complete
Natsuki Takuya was going to write backstory for Ayame/Mine, and show their first meeting, but eventually decided not to do it, and now my life will never be complete
One of the drive-myself-bananas parts of having Deathly Weapons fully planned out in a fair amount of detail while also being a painfully slow writer is already knowing where all the mysteries and character arcs are going to go but also knowing it’s going to take years before I get to the point where I can talk about them with other people.
“ it’s okay to be angry, you’re allowed to be upset about what happened to you. ” (ra)
--- It felt like she’d been holding it in for so long...
--- Adjustment to becoming a demon had been difficult in the beginning and even now after a handful of centuries had past, it was difficult still. She’d been positively feral and aggressive when first waking in a body that was hers...but wasn’t. With cravings and desires that were hers...but weren’t. Everything felt heightened, and foreign and there was a small hole in her- she imagined that once upon a time something filled that hole. Something belonged there.
--- Now, she couldn’t remember what it was. As if she’d lost a part of herself and would never get it back.
--- Blinking into the water’s reflective surface, emerald orbs she wasn’t born with stared back at her and prompted an unspeakable desire to sink her own claws into them. To yank them out. Whose are these, they’re not mine. Whispers in her head only encouraged the sentiment, nails biting deeply into bronze palmed until blood began to leak from open crescents. The tension of her body was apparent, so rigid and stiff, to accompany the twisted and pained expression on her face- not that she knew she was making it.
--- Petite fangs sunk into her lip until she tasted copper, teeth gritted angrily and aggressively...where did these feelings come from? It was like watching a dream, remembering her human life; knowing how compassionate and soft and gentle she’d been, so caring and understanding and now. It wasn’t as if...she wasn’t those things, or as if she wasn’t trying to become those things once more, but rather? She felt so disconnected. They didn’t come as easily and naturally to her as they once had.
--- Breathing had become heavy without her realizing, the stress of her internal conflicts worn so blatantly in her physical state that even lover could determine what ailed her. His words broke through the bubbling fog of frustration that plagued her mind, voice so crystal clear- like a bell that she could follow to once again find light and clear day.
--- She hadn’t realized she’d begun to cry, fists balling up and clenching in her lap. Unable to meet his gaze in shame, for fear that he’d think her ungrateful for what he did, for saving her in the fashion he had, she dropped her head and began to tremble slightly with the build up of rage. Not at him, no. At the people that had ripped her mortality from her- she had already made a pact with Ignis in some fashion, a promise to stay with him through death, even if it cost her soul but this? This was just cruel...
--- ‘ I hate them all. ‘ she whispered finally, tone filled with bitterness and vicious fury. Seething perhaps, was a better way to describe the way she spoke of her hatred towards the people that had wronged her...and it was ironic that her time spent wandering in purgatory had robbed her of the chance to exact revenge. They were long since dead, and properly moved on. ‘ I hate them, all! ‘ she snapped, digging claws into the ground and tearing at dirt just beneath her knees,
--- She’d begun to beat at the soil, the rock, breaking it apart with inhuman and demonic strength, creating indent after indent and tearing the ground apart beneath herself in a blind fit of rage. Slashing and ripping, hues envisioning nothing more than the bodies of those that had laid her out like a lamb to slaughter, tearing them apart and sinking claws and fangs into tender meat. Ripping, clawing, cutting, slashing...the violence was an urge she couldn’t control. ‘ I’d kill them if I could! ‘ she snarled, squeezing hues shut after a long period of silence.
--- ‘ What right did they have...I did everything I was supposed to! I was a good attendant, I was a good person! I did nothing but help those that came to Serqet’s temple, I did nothing but give aid and shelter, every last part of myself I could offer to the gods and to the people, I did! Every...last...part! ‘ she growled out, words punctuated with another forceful fist, until she’d half buried herself in the ground with the sheer amount of soil she’d ripped up. Tears began to leak from her eyes once again, scrubbing at them with the back of her hand and smearing a bit of dirt across her face.
--- ‘ And to repay me, my devotion, the robbed me of life...for something as simple and heartfelt as loving you. The world is cruel. ‘ she whispered at last, head shaking as energy was spent and dissipated, glancing up to him with a sad, almost innocent expression. ‘ I think I’d do it again. Die. If it meant staying with you... ‘
This chapter is a turning point for Claire and Jamie, an invisible equator in their relationship. And symbolically it's 10th part of this story.
It took an effort to get this exactly right, to build that emotional bridge that'll help us understand their feelings. I hope I managed to capture all the feelings both of them. But please, please have faith in them.
Anne @eclecticstarlightconnoisseur, thank you for holding my hand along the way 💜
P.S. Sorry for breaking your wee hearts in previous and this chapter, my dear kind-hearted readers. Bear with me ;) ;)
X
A/N:
mo charaid - my friend in Scottish Gaelic
Read on AO3
Chapter I: The beginnings
Chapter II: Sassenach
Chapter III: Catharsis
Chapter IV: Lovestruck. Part I
Chapter V: Lovestruck. Part II
Chapter VI: Flecks of Sun
Chapter VII: Mince pies & baubles
Chapter VIII: Home
Chapter IX: Once upon a dream
Chapter X: Of loss and faith
For what felt like centuries-long minutes, Jamie stood with his palm on the door. His head bowed, breathing deeply, trying to find some strength from the inanimate wood surface for he had none. The only thing that drove him from Glasgow to Edinburgh in thirty minutes was guilt. And fear. He grasped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles blanched white. His gut wrenched as Geillis's voice replayed the manifesto in his head.
His wee Sassenach almost bled to death. His bonny and fierce lass was cut open and he wasna there for her.
He hadn’t cried when Geillis told him. His breath hitched with a sob learning that their child was gone. Burning, expanding heat inside his chest almost cracked it open, threatening to release his bloody insides out. His hands trembled just a bit when he’d found enough courage to ask about Claire.
“Is she alive?”
His own mother had died because of complications during labour. Jenny’s second pregnancy was a difficult one after which Ian was never the same. Jamie’s fear was rational but so overtaking that he exhaled with a wheezing sound against his throat salty with unshed tears. She was alive and he must fight for her.
Wiping damp hands over the rough denim fabric of his jeans, he gently pushed the door open. A veil of moisture burned in his eyes as Jamie crossed a dark, shadowy room stopping next to the bed. His instinct to shield her, to protect made him almost too weak. Because he failed. He failed her when she most needed him. Jamie sat down in the chair in front of Claire’s motionless body.
Christ, she looked so small and ever so fragile. She was still, covered in a thin white hospital sheet that matched her skin colour. He swallowed against dry tears that burned his throat. Jamie could not make himself look down a small bump of her stomach. It was all that was left showing where their child was once sheltered and nurtured by her body. So he kept his eyes on Claire’s face. She looked so peaceful, drifting to a faraway land where Jamie did not know the route. He wanted to gather Claire close, keep her within himself, let her crawl inside his body and remain there. Safe and guarded. Not hurt.
A Dhia, he would have given everything to be able to take her pain away.
Dr Hildegarde told him it was a placental abruption. Something that could not have been stopped so they had to perform C-section. Their baby was stillborn, one of the complications occurring in fifteen percent of cases. He could feel an aching hole inside his chest and a tight set of his jaw against oncoming wave of tears as Dr Hildegarde’s thin fingers squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. Geillis, with puffy and bloodshot eyes, told him Claire has lost a large amount of blood and received a transfusion.
Jamie kept staring at Claire’s asleep face. Gritting his teeth, he caught a thought at the back of his mind that made his blood freeze. Now that she slept, he hoped she was not in pain. She was but Jamie did not know that. Claire was given pain medication by a nurse and it helped her to drift back to soothing darkness. She did not have to face a reality where she had lost her baby. Claire’s face was smooth, only a slight furrow between her eyebrows disturbed the peacefulness. A part of Jamie wished she slept forever like this. Not hurt, without need to live with the ache and heartbreak of losing their child. He shook his head violently as if to rid himself of the awful thought that was creeping into his fevered mind. The selfish little, fragile part of himself whispered that she’ll hate him. When Claire wakes she will realise what a failure he is and she won’t want him anymore. He feared it and it made him feel sick to his stomach
Jamie hesitated, afraid that Claire could flinch away from his touch as he reached his hand to her. Oh, how much he wanted to comfort her. How he wished he could reverse time and not put his Sassenach to such misery because of himself.
He could bear just about anything but not her pain.
Tips of his fingers gently curved over her soft cheek. She did not move, only eyebrows knitted a deeper crease between them. Jamie bit his lip blood bursting, fighting against the tears rushing as the tide, copper tasting faintly in his mouth.
Even now partly covered in the night shadows, she was so, so beautiful. There was an unearthliness about her pale, pale skin like she would soon belong to the angels. Jamie could almost imagine how their wee lassie would have looked alike with her mother. He sucked in the sterile scented air and exhaled in a shallow breath. The sounds of his heart shattering filled each corner of the room.
Thumb smoothing the transparent shell of her ears Jamie jerked at the sudden sound filling the space. It was a whimper, faint and delicate as early snow but so desperate it made him cold to the marrow of his bones.
“Sassenach,” He whispered, voice hoarse with the effort. Jamie had no idea what he could say to her to make it better. There was nothing. Nothing he could do or say to make it hurt less. She leaned into his palm, face painted with visible distress and Jamie thought he would lose it.
So he did the best he could. Fingers gently curling into her hair, he whispered to her in ancient Gàidhlig as he always did when Claire had hard times. It seemed to soothe her and he had hoped it would bring the same relief to his Sorcha now.
She stilled for a while before her eyes fluttered open. They told him she had awakened before after coming out of surgery when the last lingering sensations of drugs faded away. She asked for him Geillis said. Claire needed him there, and he wasn’t.
She blinked, eyes still dull and heavy-lidded. Her lungs burned as she inhaled deeply as if a needle had punctured the skin. Her mouth was tacky. Feeling a drowsy shadowiness swim behind her dry eyelids Claire stared through Jamie. Slowly coming out from submerging oblivion all she could feel was pain. It started under her skin laying its sharp claws along the edges of her limbs, dipping inside red tissue. It ran in the bloodstream igniting each fibre like fierce lightning bolt traveling from nerve to nerve. The pain was inside burnt deep behind her eyelids, coating her throat, shredding the lungs. Claire’s body hung on the brink of giving in and falling back into the peaceful darkness. It took all the strength she had left inside to concentrate and not step back into the blackness. Her vision blurred, eyes straining with the effort. She felt dizzy. When she realised that her quiet sanctuary was disturbed by an intruder, her eyes finally focused.
Jamie’s lips quirked into a ghost of a smile. “Mo cridhe…” His warm palm cupped her cheek and she shrugged away. Pulling a sheet up to her chin she stared at Jamie as if he was a stranger.
For a long time, there was a silence and neither of them moved.
She felt so lonesome. She was all alone. Abandoned. She was so so so lonely in all of this.
Even in midnight darkness she could see the barely checked tears in Jamie’s eyes. It felt like a millennia that he was frozen. Not able to move or say anything. Jamie looked utterly broken.
Destroyed.
But she did not feel a thing about it.
Swallowing a choking lump in his throat Jamie opened his mouth. He only gasped for air as he groped for words, not able to say anything. Eyes blown wide, hands shaking by his sides, Jamie just looked back at Claire who jerked away again when he wanted to lean down to touch her.
“Don’t touch me” Claire’s voice echoed in the hollowness of her chest.
“I am so verra sorry, Sassenach” His voice was no more than a weak, strangled rasp.
She turned away as the tears spilled down his cheeks, making their way down his neck. She still could not bear seeing him cry.
Her hands slowly reached now a barren expanse of her abdomen. Covered with a thin hospital sheet her own body felt foreign and unfamiliar. Claire was as the goddess Niobe whose children were slain and unburied. She was turned to stone and brooded endlessly over the sorrows sent by Gods. Only this time Claire was the one to blame, her own traitorous body. She laid there, numb and cold as the stone herself.
Claire’s voice cracked, forced out her dry throat. “Go home, Jamie”
“No,” It sounded like a groan. Full of anger, frustration, heartbreak.
When her eyes found Jamie’s, Claire’s words were nothing but a broken whisper.
“I have lost a lifetime with my child before even be able to experience it.”
It was early predawn with the sun trying to breakthrough stubborn clouds floating over Scotland.
Jamie startled, awakened to the sound of shoes gliding over the linoleum. Geillis gently touched his shoulder, eyes scanning still asleep Claire.
“Ye should go home, mo charaid,” His fellow Scotswoman circled the bed, glancing at vital signs monitor. “Yer no good like that for Claire, go to sleep, have a bite.”
Standing up Jamie felt needles prickle his numb legs. Muscles cramped from a broken sleep on that tiny chair. Shaking off the remnants of his restless night he turned to Geillis, zipping the jacket up.
“Promise me, ye stay with her and willna leave for a moment?” Jamie nervously ran a hand through his hair, before tapping it on his thigh. “I’m going to use the bathroom and grab something from the car.”
Geillis nodded, smiling faintly. “I willna. But ye promise ye will eat a proper lunch and get some sleep tonight. Ye have to be strong for Claire. She will need ye.”
Jamie swallowed, shaking his head in agreement. The only thing that kept him from falling apart was Claire’s need for him, his strength that he could lend her. Even though she might reject him again, that’s the least he could do for his wee Sassenach.
He was gone no longer than twenty minutes. Jamie made a quick visit to the bathroom, splashed cold water over his face, grabbed an awful resemblance of a coffee from a vending machine. He changed his sweaty t-shirt in the car for a freshly washed gym one, dug out Claire’s favourite Jaffa cakes from the glovebox and was on his way back.
When he stepped inside the ICU room Claire was awake. And it made him somewhat jealous and guilty again that he did not catch the moment when she woke. He froze and just stood like an idiot in the doorway. Claire did not even look up, kept staring at her folded hands on her knees. Mary Hawkins hovered over her changing the bag of IV fluids, smiling shyly as she reminded Claire to eat her breakfast. She only nodded absently but did not touch the tray with tea, porridge, bread rolls and butter with raspberry jam. Claire always thought it was rather funny that NHS offered continental breakfast at hospitals. The last thing she wanted to do was eat now. Claire would gladly remain in a state of unconscious drowsiness and a dead sleep for the rest of her life.
As they were left alone Jamie moved slowly, setting aside the cakes on the bedside stand. He thought he’d seen a faint smile on Claire’s lips but wasn’t sure he did not imagine it.
“Ye mind?” Jamie exhaled, trying to keep his voice steady. Claire scooted over slightly allowing him a bit of space on the narrow bed. Jamie lowered himself carefully to sit, too aware of her fragile state. He was afraid he could break her if he is not cautious enough.
They stayed quiet for a while, both lost in the loud sounds coming from the hospital hall.
“How do ye feel?” He asked at last, eyes searching hers but she stubbornly looked away.
Jamie prayed that she would answer him, that she wouldn’t pull back. His heart was aching hoping that she would grant him the least a bit of mercy and just share her burden with him. Christ, it was his child too.
Claire shivered at the sound of Jamie’s voice. So familiar, so concerned, so him. Somewhere very deep deep inside her there was a space that was screaming for him, that needed him desperately. The ache of it was tearing her apart but it was buried under a cloak of overtaking grief. She could not get out from its cold, gripping claws. The sight of Jamie was breaking her heart, ripping it out but she kept thinking she was alone when it all happened. How scared she was.
Claire wanted to reach out to him and reassure him she’s not angry. But the turmoil was too great. There was a mix of feelings she did not understand. She was scared, angry, she felt guilty and weak. But mostly she was hurt. There was a great deal of pain and Claire had no idea how to deal with it.
She absently smoothed the crumpled fabric of white sheet over her belly.
“Empty,” Her voice cracked. “I feel empty.”
The breath choked out of him and Jamie leaned in to her wanting to cradle her close. But he stopped midway unsure and taken aback by the feeling that he had to think if he can touch her.
His hand froze in the air just inches away from soft curve of her cheek. A lonely tear rolled down Claire’s face and she whimpered against her will. Biting down her lip hard enough so it hurts, so maybe, just maybe it will distract her from the real tragedy her own life turned into. She could not bear to see that look on Jamie’s face. When his thumb gently wiped away a salty drop, the burning soreness inside her chest threatened to burst out burying them both with lava-like sorrow. Her fingers closed around Jamie’s warm palm withdrawing it from her face.
But he kept trying. The haunting feeling of losing her kept him going. He would not lose her.
“Ye should eat yer breakfast, mo ghraidh,” Jamie offered quietly “ Ye need it to keep up yer strength.”
“I failed, Jamie.” Claire’s voice was distant as she drew patterns over the white sheet. “I failed our daughter. I failed us.”
He wanted to say something, deny those ridiculous words but she shook her head dismissing him.
“You should leave, go home, there is no use for you to sit here, Jamie.”
He was losing her. He was losing it all.
Pressing a dry kiss to her forehead Jamie just sat back. If that chair would be the place he has to spend the rest of his days on to be near Claire, he would do it.
Later in the day Claire just laid, resting as much as possible. She spent her time pretending to watch TV, switching the channels just for the sake of keeping her hands busy. With no child to lay in her arms, she felt an exceptional need to do something, anything that would fill that hole. Jamie has been with her most of the time, only occasionally taking trips to the bathroom or to stretch the muscles in his legs, pacing endless circles in the hallway. They did not talk much, only business-like exchange of phrase.
Though Claire needed to remain calm, resting in order to heal quickly, they needed her to get up for walks. Nurse Olivia explained to Claire she needed to become progressively mobile in order to prevent constipation and blood clots. Jamie volunteered but Claire said she wanted Geilis with her. It was a great relief for Claire going on those painful, even though gentle walks with her best friend. It was a change from Jamie’s utterly destroyed face and she felt as she could breathe a little bit easier without seeing him looking so guilty, looking so sad. Geillis did not push, did not start the conversations Claire did not want to hold. She just talked, as usual, made filthy jokes, shared her memories from last Tinder date and filled her in all recent gossip at the hospital. Claire was grateful for that.
Later, after Jamie convinced her to take a bite of a dinner she fell into a restless sleep. Geillis on the other hand finally managed to drag Jamie out of the hospital room and laughed at him softly when he groaned at the bright hall light.
“Yer like a bloody mole.” She pushed him towards the cafeteria paying zero attention at his protests. “Ye have to eat, Claire willna thank me if I let ye starve yerself.”
Geillis only smirked when Jamie demolished two full meals with a clear look on her face “I told ye”. She was rumbling about everything and anything but Jamie barely listened. After some time, wiping the grease from his lips, Geillis moved a plate aside, reaching for Jamie’s hand.
“Dinna worry, she’ll come around,” the ginger-haired woman smiled. “She needs time, time to heal and accept.”
Claire dreamt. She was weightless. Free and peaceful, floating in serene darkness. There was no pain, no fear, no loss. Her body was a feather, not her own, inside the space of the parallel universe. She did not know her name or who she was. Everything was foreign and new. It was dark and soothingly warm. There was no existence of her, whoever she has been before. She felt at peace wrapped in the cocoon of warmth surrounding her. She was nobody, motionless and still. Perfect in its hollowness. There was no time nor space but quiet buzzing filling Claire’s senses. She just was. Swimming in the endless distant land of nothing. She did not know how long she has been there, in the space of bottomless chasm. But then there was something. Growing inside her solar plexus, spreading its roots in her bloodstream. Running under the surface of Claire’s transparent skin. Trying to break out, the pressure of it clawing at her heart. Leaving a flow of blood soaking trail. A name.
