Neither of us whole, alone

The whole Scene
“You won’t leave me?” I asked at last. “You won’t die?”He shook his head, and squeezed my hand tight.“You are my courage, as I am your con­science,” he whis­pered. “You are my heart—and I your com­pas­sion. We are nei­ther of us whole, alone. Do ye not know that, Sassenach?”“I do know that,” I said, and my voice shook. “That’s why I’m so afraid. I don’t want to be half a per­son again, I can’t bear it.”He thumbed a lock of hair off my wet cheek, and pulled me into his arms, so close that I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. He was so sol­id, so alive, rud­dy hair curl­ing gold against bare skin. And yet I had held him so before—and lost him.

His hand touched my cheek, warm despite the damp­ness of my skin.“But do ye not see how ver­ra small a thing is the notion of death, between us two, Claire?” he whispered.My hands curled into fists against his chest. No, I didn’t think it a small thing at all.“All the time after ye left me, after Culloden—I was dead then, was I not?”“I thought you were. That’s why I—oh.” I took a deep, tremu­lous breath, and he nodded.“Two hun­dred years from now, I shall most cer­tain­ly be dead, Sasse­nach,” he said. He smiled crooked­ly. “Be it Indi­ans, wild beasts, a plague, the hangman’s rope, or only the bless­ing of auld age—I will be dead.”“Yes.”“And while ye were there—in your own time—I was dead, no?”I nod­ded, word­less. Even now, I could look back and see the abyss of despair into which that part­ing had dropped me, and from which I had climbed, one painful inch at a time.Now I stood with him again upon the sum­mit of life, and could not con­tem­plate descent. He reached down and plucked a stalk of grass, spread­ing the soft green beards between his fin­gers.“ ‘Man is like the grass of the field,’ ” he quot­ed soft­ly, brush­ing the slen­der stem over my knuck­les, where they rest­ed against his chest. “ ‘Today it blooms; tomor­row it with­ers and is cast into the oven.’ ”He lift­ed the silky green tuft to his lips and kissed it, then touched it gen­tly to my mouth.“I was dead, my Sassenach—and yet all that time, I loved you.”I closed my eyes, feel­ing the tick­le of the grass on my lips, light as the touch of sun and air.“I loved you, too,” I whis­pered. “I always will.”The grass fell away. Eyes still closed, I felt him lean toward me, and his mouth on mine, warm as sun, light as air.“So long as my body lives, and yours—we are one flesh,” he whis­pered. His fin­gers touched me, hair and chin and neck and breast, and I breathed his breath and felt him sol­id under my hand. Then I lay with my head on his shoul­der, the strength of him sup­port­ing me, the words deep and soft in his chest.“And when my body shall cease, my soul will still be yours. Claire—I swear by my hope of heav­en, I will not be part­ed from you.”

The wind stirred the leaves of the chest­nut trees near­by, and the scents of late sum­mer rose up rich around us; pine and grass and straw­ber­ries, sun­warmed stone and cool water, and the sharp, musky smell of his body next to mine.“Nothing is lost, Sasse­nach; only changed.”“That’s the first law of ther­mo­dy­nam­ics,” I said, wip­ing my nose.“No,” he said. “That’s faith.”

All rights for the Pic­tures of Jamie and Claire go to the right­ful owner Starz
Excer­pt and Quo­te by Diana Gabal­don from “DoA“
I own not­hing but the editing