Chapter Text
“I don't know how many times I've looked for you anymore
For those eyes, for those eyes that act like the moon
I don't know how many nights I waited for you anymore
To end up swallowing all the fear
To remain alone
In this dark room
Only you are the cure for me”
-"The Cure” Giorgia
Glasgow, Scotland – December 7, 2017
9:20 pm
The room was dark and silent.
The curtains were drawn, the door was closed, the lights dimmed.
It was late at night and the sounds of Glasgow traffic were muffled within that oasis of peace.
Caitríona Balfe sighed and closed her eyes a couple of times, trying to stay awake.
In that dark room she was no longer alone.
Not anymore. And never would be again.
The pain in her lower abdomen had significantly diminished thanks to the painkiller drip the nurse had administered her almost twelve hours earlier, but it was still there. She felt exhausted, drained of all energy, but at the same time a tingling in her chest physically prevented her from giving in to exhaustion.
The woman was without makeup, her hair was disheveled, and she was sure that at that moment she desperately needed a shower, but she didn't care in the least.
Not when she had her miracle in her arms, resting against her chest.
She was lying in the hospital bed, with clean, white sheets and two pillows supporting her back. She had unfastened her hospital gown, revealing her breasts, and was now contemplating, with extreme attention, her newborn son.
Allister James Heughan.
He was born three hours ago, at 7:20 p.m. on a windy, freezing evening… on December 7th, 2017.
December 6, 5:30 pm
Caitríona had started feeling unwell during the afternoon of the previous day.
Mild pains in her lower abdomen and kidneys, which the woman hadn't given much thought to. Her gynecologist had reassured her only two days earlier; in fact, he'd reassured Sam more than her.
Her husband, with his usual thousand worries, made her smile at the thought. She loved him dearly, also for his unwavering desire to always protect them, just as Jamie Fraser would have done with his own family.
-Your doctor said he'll be born tomorrow, right, dear?-
Chrissie Heughan and Cait's parents, Jim and Anne, had joined them for afternoon tea. It had become a kind of a tradition over the past few weeks, ever since Mr. and Mrs. Balfe had arrived from Ireland to help their daughter during the final weeks of her pregnancy.
They'd done it for their other children, and their fourth child was no exception. And Cait was immensely grateful for them: their presence was reassuring.
-The doctor said December seven, so tomorrow- Sam replied, getting a glare from his partner.
-He'll come when he feels ready- Caitríona rubbed her belly and hid a face of disappointment.
They hadn’t wanted to know the baby’s gender. Doctor Sherman estimated the birth would be around December 7th. However, Cait was convinced that her gynecologist's predictions were wrong. She herself had always been a chronically late person. And none of her niblings had been born on their due date.
-Well, I think he or she is really stubborn, like his or her father, after all- the future grandmother commented aloud. -Sam, darling, you're definitely putting too much sugar in your tea.-
The Scotsman looked down at his cup: he had put so much sugar that it had almost come over the rim.
He was a bundle of nerves.
Jim Balfe watched him from across the table, appearing calm.
-It shouldn’t be long in coming anyway,- Anne interjected. -All your sisters had their firstborns at least three or four days late.-
-I lost my mucus plug the day before yesterday and Dr. Sherman said it could take a few days…-.
6:40 pm
Caitríona hadn't had to pretend for long that everything was fine. Sam could read her clearly. She was a mirror to him.
Glass eyes.
-Cat-.
Their parents had only been gone ten minutes, before Sam began pacing around with a worried look on his face.
-You didn't eat anything this evening-.
Caitríona returned his gaze with a veiled look.
Now the pain had increased, and her belly, once soft, had become hard and tense. The baby had also stopped moving.
-It's almost time, isn't it?- Sam whispered and kissed her forehead, inhaling her sweet scent. -I'm here if you need me, babe,- he said simply, and her heart skipped a beat.
He'd been there for them from the start. Frankly, he knew Sam was terrified right now, but he was doing his best not to worry her. She loved him even more for that.
Sam knelt beside her and kissed her hand. His fingers brushed against the Claddagh ring.
-Hey, look at me-.
Caitríona felt the man's fingers lift her chin.
-Everything will be alright. Okay? I promise-.
Cait had started to tremble, shaken by cold shivers.
-Do you want me to call your parents?-
She shook her head.
-Do you want me to call Karo? Or someone else? My mother? Your sister Anne-Marie?-
She was crying.
What had initially seemed like small, bearable aches were now almost destroying her. But not because of the pain itself.
But out of fear that something might actually happen.
It was irrational. She was healthy, but Caitríona knew all too well, thanks to Claire Fraser, all the risks inherent in pregnancy.
The pain had grown sharper, sending sharp blows up her back and a pressure in her lower abdomen. She tried to catch her breath, reminding herself of the importance of breathing, but only a strangled moan escaped her.
She bumped her nose against his.
-Just hold me-.
9:04 pm
Caitríona closed her eyes.
Her head in the crook of Sam's neck, resting against the man's chest.
They were lying in their bed, as requested by the woman.
Sam held her in his arms in their bed, comforting her as the pains and contractions gradually intensified. His large hands rested on her belly, and she felt safe, protected from everything and everyone.
-Are you okay mo ghràidh?-.
One of the man's hands was gently massaging her back, attentive, caring.
Caitríona sighed against him and pressed herself even closer to his warm body.
He was always warm, he calmed her, he made her feel safe.
-Stop asking me that. I am fine. I told you-.
Sam cursed himself and felt her gasp. The contractions were probably getting stronger, but his girlfriend was so stubborn and proud that she hadn't even let out a moan yet from her lips.
-Are you scared?-.
The woman raised her gaze enough to meet the Scotsman's.
Sam watched her with a perpetually worried expression on his face: his muscles tense, his breathing tense, as if he expected an impending tragedy. But his grip on her was strong and firm.
-A little bit- she admitted. The woman’s voice cracked.
Shadows of the past slipped over them.
Faith. Claire.
Was it so stupid to be influenced by a scene? By a fake scene shot in the past?
That was just fiction, not real life.
She and Sam had never talked about the real possibility that something could go wrong.
But Cait, after all, was thirty-eight years old.
An unpleasant sensation stopped Caitríona's flow of thoughts.
The bed was wet. She was wet.
-Sam…- she said. And she felt her man sit up immediately.
-What?-
-It's time- she said.
Her face was pale, her lips red and thin, and there were dark circles under her eyes.
She trembled, a mix of fear, excitement, agitation, and cold
-I think… I think my water just broke-.
9:27 pm
Sam walked her to the bathroom and helped her take a quick shower.
-Here, lean on me, Cat-.
He had insisted on accompanying her and had placed a chair in the walk-in shower, allowing her to sit down.
She had muttered that she was perfectly capable of doing it on her own.
And then she sent him out of the bathroom, recommending that he check the hospital bag for the fourth time.
Sam had, however, made her promise to be careful.
But Caitríona wanted to be alone.
Those were the last moments of just her and his unborn son.
The last space and time where only she and Sam existed on earth side. The last peace of reality where she and Sam were a family of two.
The hot water was like a healing balm on the woman's cold body: it helped her relax. Cait spent almost ten minutes staring at her bump and her feet. The drops of water grazing her skin.
-Hey, James,- she used the name she'd wanted to give her son. But she and Sam were still unsure about that particular topic. Cait, however, was rooting for her father's name, James. -Don't take too long, my love. We can't wait to meet you.-
It was a plea, an almost whispered wish.
But she was sure her son had heard her because he reacted by kicking her.
10:18 pm.
On the way to the hospital, she and Sam never left each other's side, his hand still clinging to hers.
Coming into the world was painful, Cait had been well prepared by her sister-in-law Victoria and her sisters; but she certainly hadn't imagined such a painful labor.
My body knows exactly what to do. But now, she wasn't so sure about it.
The pain was debilitating, excruciating. It began in her lower abdomen and radiated up through her spine to her neck. She tried walking beside Sam, but soon decided to lie down with him at her side. He supported her with all his weight and never stopped comforting her, caressing her back and face.
-Can you fucking hold me, Sam?- she asked, tears in her eyes. -Fuck, that hurts.-
Sam kissed her sweat-soaked forehead and brushed her hair back from her face. The Irishwoman's blue eyes were almost red and full of exhaustion.
-I know, babe-
Caitríona glared at him as another contraction doubled her over. Her eyes almost closed shut from the pain.
-No, you don't know-.
Sam had enought good sense to keep his mouth shut.
The pangs of the contractions were so strong they took Cait’s breath away. She was strong, but she wanted to hide in that hospital bed and cry to end it all.
How did his mother could do that seven fucking times?
-Oh, fuck- she said, as Sam tenderly wiped her forehead with a wet cloth. She was shaking. The woman sat up and realized she wasn't the only one shaking. She was only wearing her hospital gown, and the December cold and the adrenaline she felt insidre her weren't helping at all. But now Sam was shaking, too.
-Oh, honey, you’re literally making my hand shake- Caitríona said, grunting after a particularly intense contraction.
-I’m fine- the Scotsman smiled nervously. -Are you okay, though? Do you want something? Anything?-
His blue eyes — usually so attentive and caring — were now clouded with anxiety.
-I can pay someone to give you an epidural before the other patients- Sam said, and immediately regretted it.
Cait rolled her eyes. Had he really said those words out loud?
-God, Sam! Auch- another contraction and she saw him flinch. -I hope you're not serious!-.
He looked at her with an almost vacant look, as if the anxiety of that moment was almost too much.
-Aye, I wouldn't hesitate to take all the pain you feel now, and put it into my body- he replied seriously.
The woman's lips were immediately on him.
He smelled of whiskey, pine, and sweat. His skin was salty, wet with tears.
-I love you Samwise-
-I love you too, my Cat-.
It took almost another two hours before Dr. Sherman came to announce the progress of labor.
-He or she’s stubborn- the doctor explained, giving a encouraging smile, -but it should be born in about four hours.-
-Like his Da'- sighed Caitríona, settling back into the pillows.
Sam didn't dare argue: he was sure that his daughter's stubbornness all came from the Balfes.
11:40 PM
Cait was now dozing in bed, turned on her side. Sam was still sitting beside her, his hand clasped tightly in hers.
Ten minutes earlier, a nurse had arrived: she had checked Caitríona and the baby's vital signs and given her an epidural, commenting cheerfully that -It's almost done, darling!-
The anesthesia had muffled the woman's moans and sighs and Cait had finally managed to close her eyes and relax into a state of perpetual half-sleep.
The pain was now dull, a persistent but bearable tingling.
-Sam- she whispered.
It was a barely audible whisper, but Caitríona felt her boyfriend's body move against her.
-What? Do you need anything, Mo chridhe? -.
Need?
I need my son, healthy and strong, in my arms. Now.
I need to survive this pain that separates us.
And instead she asked him the most important question of all for her.
-Can you tell me that you love me?-.
The curve of Sam's mouth curled into a faint smile, just beneath the lines of anxiety on his face.
Cait closed her eyes and felt the gentle touch of Sam's lips on her forehead. His hands cupped her face and wiped away her tears.
-I will always tell you that I love you Cat-.
She gave him a touched smile. Then she opened her eyes again.
-I hope he's like you-.
A veil of joy appeared in the man's gaze, full of concern.
-Ginger and tall?-
-No- Caitríona smiled. -Generous and selfless. A real man.-
-I hope he gets something from your family. Heughans are just wild hippies.- A hand brushed her hair back from her forehead.
How could a six-foot-three man be so delicate?
-I hope he’ll have your eyes, your nose, your face-.
Sam had used the pronoun he. He had clearly almost resigned himself to complying with the wishes of the woman he loved.
-Hurry up little lad- he bent down to kiss his girlfriend’s bump -everyone here wants to meet you-.
Caitríona lay back against the pillows, unable to take her eyes off Sam's reassuring one.
He had never witnessed a birth. Sure, he had clearly been in the hospital when his only nephew, Finnegan, was born, years earlier.
But this time everything was different.
And Caitríona, in that bed, between a contraction and a moan, realized how lucky she and Sam were to have every single member of their clan there with them.
Their son was already so loved.
December 7, 2017 - 6:30 am
And, instead, his son had surprised everyone.
And he was born on his actual due date. Accurate as clockwork.
-So he really will be born on December 7th,- Cait’s mother, Anne, had stopped by to check on her daughter as first thing first. She had gently stroked her hair and carefully watched Dr. Sherman as he bent over to examine her.
-We should be ready to push- the doctor commented, his voice tired from a night shift.
-It's almost over, sweetheart,- Anne reassured Caitríona and smiled sympathetically. -Do you want me to call Anne-Marie? They're all outside. It looks like there's no more room in the waiting room.-
-No, Mum, don't be offended, please... but I wish it were just Sam. Just me, him, and the baby.-
Just three of them.
That was their moment.
Caitríona looked Sam straight in the eye. She was panting, sweating, her hair wet.
-You are glowing,- he whispered into her dark curls. -You’ve never looked more beautiful.-
Cait trembled. She wanted to answer. She wanted to tell him it wasn't true, that she was definitely a mess right then and there. But she didn't have the strength.
I love you then.
-I love you Samwise,- she whispered.
Sam kissed her one last time before turning to the midwife and Dr. Sherman.
-Let's have this baby. Shall we?- the nurse looked at them smiling. She was probably used to declarations of love in the delivery room. -During the next contraction, you have to push with all your strength Caitríona-
Cait spread her legs and squatted, propped up by three pillows. Sam stood behind her and supported her head. One hand still held hers, the other her leg.
The pain had almost gone away from her now, she couldn't feel anything anymore. She was concentrating only on pushing and breathing. Deep, regular breaths. She had tears in her eyes from the effort and couldn't feel anything from her hips down.
One, two, three. One, two, three. Sam counted aloud. His Scottish accent and Caitríona's grunts and curses of pain hung in the air.
One, two, three.
Fuck. I can't. I can't do it.
Damn six foot three Scotsman!
Cait felt Sam's warm hand. Tight against hers, anchoring her to reality.
The pressure in her lower abdomen became stronger.
For God's sake, just get him out!
She pushed, grunted, breathed, and then started again. It was as if her insides were twisting from the burning pain she was experiencing, despite the epidural.
-I can touch the head! A few more pushes and the baby will be out. He's pretty big!-
-Ah!- the woman moaned in pain. Something had physically slipped from her body, and she felt fluid leaking out.
Sam leaned forward and silently thanked God that Cait had her eyes closed; otherwise she would have seen the look of pure terror he shot at the doctor when he noticed the amount of blood between the legs of the woman he loved.
Cait was a superwoman: enduring such excruciating pain just to allow their son to be born, to breathe, to live.
Seeing the birth of your child. Being there.
He had never ever loved her so much. Ever.
-You can do it, baby. I can see him already. He's beautiful-.
Caitríona gritted her teeth in a desperate attempt to fight the discomfort, but another almost animalistic scream escaped her as she felt Dr. Sherman's hands inside her.
How long had she been pushing? How long had it been? God, she could swear it had been hours, an infinite dilation of time.
-Wait! Hold on a second- Dr. Sherman’s voice surprised her. -Sorry… I just have to…-
Cait instinctively sought Sam's reassuring gaze. But she found her pale boyfriend, his hand still clutched tightly in hers, staring at the doctor like a hawk. -I'm trying to get a shoulder out, he's pretty big!-.
And, in the end, the woman felt something push its way into her gut and screamed, collapsing onto the pillow.
7:21 am
Caitríona had screamed when she saw him for the first time.
A blurry figure, covered in blood and mucus. A fleeting glimpse as Dr. Sherman held him up for her to see.
-Sam, he's here! He's here! Look how beautiful he is, look how perfect he is!-.
He?
So, she had won the bet.
Their baby was a boy.
A wee laddie.
But the woman hadn't received an answer. So she looked up and there Sam was: speechless for the first time in his life.
Sam stared at her, dazed, tears streaming down his cheeks, wracked with sobs.
-I don’t know how the hell you did it, Cat!- he sobbed.
-I wanna hold my son!- the woman stretched out her arms and Dr. Sherman placed her son on her exposed breast.
Their flesh and bones. Their hearts and souls.Part of their hearts now beat in his.
Their son was still covered in blood and mucus and was making a faint cry.
He seemed very upset about no longer being in his mother's warm womb.
Caitríona touched his hair.
-Oh, he's a ginger at least. He gets it from his father, that's for sure.-
Sam laughed behind her.
Oh my son.
To feel you.
To hold you.
To, finally, see you and touch you.
He calms me down.
He cures me.
-Hey wee laddie, you can call us Ma’ and Da’- Sam leaned over them and, with shaking hands, touched the baby's reddish hair. His son let out faint squeals. -You're such a bonnie wee thing.-
-Dad, cut the cord so we can get the placenta out and the three of you can be alone for a while- Dr. Sherman looked at them smiling, and Sam found himself with scissors in his hand.
7:55 am
Sam had only been able to tear himself away from Caitríona and their miracle, when Dr. Sherman physically took the baby from him to take him for routine checkups.
Cait had delivered the placenta and was now resting, while the nurses gave her a couple of stitches down there.
Sam then staggered down the corridor of the obstetrics ward. His legs felt like jelly, and he made his way, with an uncertain step, toward the visitors' room.
As soon as he opened the doors he was surrounded by their parents and siblings.
But he was looking for just one person.
His brother Cirdan smiled at him and raised his hand in greeting.
-He's a laddie- Sam had announced, and amidst the general shouting, he had gone towards Cirdan and hugged him in a long embrace.
He had cried in his brother's arms, trying to put into that moment a lot of unsaid things.
He was sure Cirdan understood him.
9:30 pm.
-Oh, Allister James, you're utterly perfect- Cait whispered in the dim light of the room.
It was the first time she used her son's full name, and she liked how it sounded.
She and Sam had argued so much about their son's name. The Scotsman was convinced Allister had been a girl and refused to consider boys' names. So Cait had suggested James, after her father. But Sam wasn't happy at all about naming their son after his character.
Plus, one of Caitríona's exes was named Jamie. He, for his part, had suggested unpronounceable Scottish names, or Stanley, the name of his beloved grandfather.
But Caitríona had turned down his names suggestions.
And then they had agreed on the only Scottish name they both liked: Allister meaning “defender of the people”.
At the end of that crazy day, only she and Allister remained.
Oh, the little one looked so much like her. He had the same delicate features, the same lips, the same nose, his eyes were the same shape and color as Balfe's, and even his fair, almost translucent skin tone was identical to hers.
But, of course, Sam’s genes were strong. And Allister was born with fine, thin strawberry blond hair, like all Heughan boys. The little boy had very pale skin, his dad's large hands, and a broad forehead, as well as a look of perpetual wonder on his face that was eerily reminiscent of the same expression Caitríona had seen in Sam's childhood photos.
She was obsessed with him.
Allister was her and Sam in every nuance. The perfect blend of all their qualities. She could see so many traits of the man she loved in her son. The pale skin, the hair scented with the coconut shampoo he'd been washed with, the smell of newborns was intoxicating.
The baby makes a noise, a sort of whimper, but Cait didn't need to be told twice and lowered him to her breast, exposing it. He latches easily, like he's known what to do this whole time.
He had been born only a few hours, but in that short time, Allister had proven to be an easy-going baby. He was such a good boy, their good boy.
Their perfect little miracle, their Bubba.
-Hey, I did it as soon as I could- Sam knocked softly on the hospital room door and smiled at the tenderness with which the love of his life was nurturing their son.
He had changed before going to get the takeout his sweetheart had requested: he was now wearing freshly laundered jeans, a gray wool sweater, and his Duffle coat, which were covered in sleet.
-I took everything you asked for, mo ghràidh -.
Sam placed the bags on the plastic table next to the bed and immediately the intense smell of Indian curry spread through the hospital room.
-Prawn mali curry with vegetables in a lentil sauce. Oh, and coconut sweets-.
Only then, the woman realize how hungry she really was. She hadn't had anything to eat in over twenty-four hours.
But her son was latched onto her breast. A slight pain in her nipple, where the baby was eagerly sucking milk.
-I'll take care of that Cat.- Sam was quick to respond. He pulled back the curtains.
It had started to snow on that special day. The light sleet fell to the ground, covering the streets, the houses, and everything in its white blanket. The icy flakes swirled in the dark night air.
What a perfect night to be born, Cait thought.
It was ten degrees below zero outside, but in there, in that room, there was a warm heat that consumed her soul.
-Aye, I see this wee laddie needs no explanation when it comes to his mother’s breast- Sam joked, and Cait rolled her eyes.
Bloody child, would a day ever go by without Sam making her laugh?
-Welcome to the world, Lister- he kissed his tiny son's forehead, voice thick with emotion. -We've waited a long time for you-.
Caitríona looked at him with tears in her eyes. Then Sam leaned down to kiss her too, on the lips, and their son let out a little cry between them.
They separated. and a half smile appeared on the Scotsman's face.
-Hey, I'll leave your mother alone,wee laddie. I can already tell you prefer her over your Da’- he joked.
Cait laughed again.
-You fool!- she said. She delicately traced the baby's blond eyebrows and the features of his face. -Lister, your father and I already love you madly. And don't believe everything he tells you, he likes to joke.- She said out loud, thumb brushing over her baby's chubby cheek.
I love you, I love you, God, I love both of my men very much.
It was her constant thought.
Sam and Allister were now the infinity of her desires, the greatest dream of all her truest dreams, her one true love.
The woman watched, almost moved, as her man carefully prepared her dinner. Sam delicately opened the takeout bags and picked up some naan, dipping it in the curry sauce.
Her whole world was here, right in front of her.
Her husband handed her the naan, dipped in curry.
-Open your mouth,- he said, careful not to dirty it, and smiled when Caitríona gave in and let him feed her.
-Is it good?-.
The Irishwoman nodded and smiled again when Sam even wiped her mouth with a napkin.
A slight pang in her chest informed her that her son had finished his supper. She looked down. Lister was now wearing a white onesie with foxes on it, specially chosen for him by his aunt Anne-Marie. His blue eyes were now half-closed, his gaze satisfied, his mouth open. He was undoubtedly full and satisfied, milk drunk.
-Let me hold him, Cat-.
She passed it to him and Sam held his newborn son to his chest with extreme delicacy, as if Allister were the most fragile human being in the universe.
The man then took the take-out bag of curry rice and placed it on the overbed table, so that Cait could finish eating her dinner.
They enjoyed the silence for a few minutes. Sam paced, holding Allister close to his chest, while Caitríona finished eating, watching the snow fall gently outside the window.
-Are you sorry I didn't name him after your father? Because we can always change it and call him James. I don't care, really.-
-Oh-.
Sam looked at her with a mixture of tenderness that made the woman's heart skip a beat.
He really would do anything for her.
-No- she answered firmly -he has his name and Allister suits him-.
-Aye- the man looked down.
His son was a full 21 inches long and weighed 8.9 pounds. He was a nice big laddie. Definitely a Heughan.
-By the way, where did everyone go?-.
Now that her son was born and well, and she had eaten, Caitríona was slowly coming back to reality. Until a few hours earlier, that hospital room had been literally overrun by their relatives and friends.
-Your dad is still crying in the waiting room- Sam informed her.
Cait smiled: she was so proud to have named her son after his father and when they told him, Jim Balfe had burst into tears, moved by that gesture.
-My mother and Cirdan went home and forced Finn to go with them-.
The woman smiled even wider. Finn was Heughan’s only grandchild at the time and he'd waited fourteen years for a cousin.
Finn was ecstatic. He kept repeating -Thank you, thank you-. Chrissie had assured her he was the spitting image of Cirdan and Sam at his age. Seeing the red-haired, blue-eyed boy holding Allister in his arms brought another wave of emotion, and Caitríona wiped away a tear
-He always wanted a cousin.- Sam sat on the edge of the bed and lay down next to her. Their son between them, perfectly at ease.
Cait sighed.
She had a son now. She had always wanted a child.
She had spent years developing herself as a strong, independent woman, prioritizing her career. There was nothing wrong with that. That was her.
Intelligent, witty, unfettered. But there was also a small part of her, when she broke up with Tony, that scared her: the fear of being alone. Her siblings were getting married and had already had children. She was dying to have one of her own. But she also wanted to wait for the right man, a life partner who would understand and support her, as a woman above everything else.
But now all the fear had swallowed her up.
Sam had arrived unexpectedly. And he had given her Allister. A gift she had given to him too.
And now, she would never be alone again.
She and Sam waited until the New Year to announce the birth of their baby boy.
A few words, carefully chosen. No face or name revealed. Not yet. Their son belonged only to the two of them and to no one else.
Cait posted a simple, black-and-white photo. Sam's large hand clasping Allister's: “The quietest, wildest magic I've ever known. He arrived with winter, full of light and stubborn wonder”,
Sam, instead, chose a blurry photo: him standing in profile, with a sleeping newborn Allister on his shoulder, warm light, very intimate: “I've done a lot of incredible things in my life… but nothing beats this. Welcome to the big wild world, wee man”.