Chapter Text
Their honeymoon had been disrupted by her call at arms. The second since they met. Frank had been quite cross about it, angry and bitter. It wasn't that unreasonable of a reaction, considering how much it disrupted their plans, nor did Claire really hold it against him that much, but he had known what he was engaging himself in when he proposed to an army surgeon. Nonetheless, their parting had been sweet and heart breaking all at once.
Now, seven years later, years without ever truly going home, or making one with her perpetually new husband, with only a few weeks here and there when she had permissions as exceptions, she was standing in the room of the hotel they rented, looking through the window and appraising the sight that Inverness made in the morning, for their make-up honeymoon. Standing in a strange room, in unfamiliar premises with a stranger that was supposed to be her husband.
Claire had known since the moment he suggested this trip that it would be a break or make moment. Either time and distance would have too grave consequences, or they would succeed in going against all bets. But, they had sworn to each other to try. Claire had sworn to herself to try and love him again like he should be loved. Like she should be able to love him.
A part of her always will, she knew that, and she was happy about it. He was a wonderful man. And he had been wondrous to her. He helped her after Uncle Lamb's accident, through all the tears and anxieties, the legalities. He had supported her through every mission, with phone calls or letters, been her rock through all the tears shed for friends that would never see their own families again.
Even with all those reasons and sound arguments she logically complied, Claire couldn't shake the foreboding feeling that took over her each time she was contemplating a future as Frank Randall's wife.
She was brought out of her gloomy musings by the sound of keys clinking against their hotel door. She braced herself and forced a smile as joyously as she could; and in the back of her mind a voice told her that had she really been happy it shouldn't have been so hard to put an act. She shoved her traitorous thoughts in a dark corner and turned to Frank.
“Frank!” whereas years ago, she had called "Honey" more than his given name, now there were no pet names in sight anymore that same voice pointed out “where did you go?”
“I went to buy us some croissants, I know how much you like them, but it seems french pastries haven't yet conquered this part of the world, so I settled for some sweet bread and jam.”
He smiled at her and she returned it. But both knew something didn't quite ring right. Both ignored it and pretended that shared look of hesitancy never happened.
“Don't worry, anything would do. Did you want to eat now, or could you perhaps wait a little?”
“Whatever for? Should I send for something else by Mrs. Pierce?”
“Oh no, I was merely thinking since it was a beautiful morning, it would be a shame not to enjoy it, wouldn't it? Maybe we could pack a small basket and go on a picnic?”
“Oh." His face while mainly surprised also seemed a little bit apprehensive. She saw him rearrange it to put on a good front. She swallowed back the bitterness that threatened to get out of her mouth. "Yes, why not?”
She sent him a small smile but the awkwardness of the whole discussion was still hanging in the air like a cloud full of lead.
Half an hour later they were parking at the bottom of a hill with standing stones upon it. A relic of generations long past, surrounded by myths and legends. Appealing to the masses. The sight was lovely and even though it was quite the tourist spot usually, not many people were there so early in the day.
They trekked up to the top of the hill, Claire did it as easily as breathing, but Frank heaved a little once they reached their destination. She took the basket from his hands, he had wished to carry it, citing its weight and his duty as a chivalrous gentleman, she guessed it backfired a little (she was ashamed to feel a small part of her happy about it). Claire had bit back a harsh retort, she was not one to stand smiling while being patronized nor was she unable to hold a small basket weighing at most fifteen pounds, she was in the military for god's sake! But, she had somehow, hardly, swallowed the bitterness, not willing to disrupt the quietness of their surroundings nor the tentative balance between them.
They sat down on the gray blanket they had found in the truck of their rental car, silently taking out the wrapped up food and drinks from the woven basket the concierge had supplied them with.
They ate, also shrouded by the silence.
Both not knowing what to say nor how to approach one another anymore.
After a long time, or what seemed like a long time to her, Frank's voice broke the unstable calm between them.
“Why didn't you sign again?”
It was like unveiling a pit that would unravel everything.
Those few words brought back images, sounds and feelings she had been pushing away as much as possible since she called him from her makeshift office on their camp, telling him she would be coming home soon, indefinitely.
Claire took a moment to hold herself together, not caring that Frank was waiting for her answer. She let out a long exhale, trying to push out at the same time the edge she was almost tipping over along with the carbon dioxide leaving her body.
“Hmm…” she stalled. “The time had come I think. I was feeling restless, like a predator without prey in sight.” She took a small moment to think about her answer, contemplating whether or not to delve more deeply into her feelings. “And…” her words were struggling to go through her clogged throat “I couldn't do it anymore. The loss, the perpetual goodbyes. I couldn't bear to bury yet another friend. It was too much.”
Frank, blessed be his kindness, didn't say anything for long minutes, let the words full heaviness settle between them like an immovable rock, and just held her hand in his. His touch was foreign and strange on her skin, but, still, she appreciated the steadiness, the support it brought her as she was trudging through painful memories again.
“I had wondered. For months and years. Even more since your call.” his voice made her focus again on the present moment even though a part of her still remained with ghosts. “Wondered if maybe you were tired of being away from me, wondered if maybe you missed me and wished to come back and be my wife, wished to live through a honeymoon, domesticity and maybe children in the not so distant future. I wished it was so, even though I didn't truly believe it. But, God, did I wish it… wished to be enough of a reason for you to come back to me…”
“Frank…”
Guilt wreaked her. Pain came too. But, guilt and remorse were center stage.
She couldn't articulate the thoughts and feelings coursing through her. She had never been quite gifted with words. She was a woman of action, never thoughtless, but still, she much preferred to act and show than speak and describe. Rationality, practicality, effectiveness were the very traits that made her such a good surgeon and soldier.
So she sat, her mouth open with unrealized thoughts and feelings, looking at her husband, a stranger she had known a long time ago, or at least she had thought she knew him. Their failed marriage clearly proved otherwise.
She cared for him, loved him, always have and always will. But was he enough? The part of her she had tried to quieten since she disembarked her military plane suddenly seemed loud and certain with a “no” for response. Was she enough? Same answer, “no”. Could she settle for it anyway? An even more resounding “no”.
“Frank… Please… I'm…”
Her words were jumbled. Unclear. Inarticulate. She herself didn't quite know what she had meant to say. An apology? An explanation? For what? For all the time they had spent and wasted trying to convince themselves it would work? For all the resentments and reproaches that they had never said out loud? For not trying hard enough, maybe.
“No, Claire. Don't you dare say that you're sorry. I won't accept it.”
“But, Frank!”
“No. There's nothing to be sorry for. You tried. I tried. Maybe we should have known right then. Had it been meant to be we shouldn't have had to try at all.”
She stayed silent under the weight of his words, recognizing it for the truth they held, feeling the pain they tried to hide. Holding his hand, still, a last show of communion, unity in the face of their failure.
“I think a part of us always knew it wouldn't last.”
She tried to interrupt him, but his eyes sent her a look saying to let him finish, let him deliver his penance, let him relieve himself of that loaded burden he bore for years.
“It's the truth Claire. We didn't want to admit it nor say it, but a part of us always knew it. We were young, and in love. Blinded by the shiny parts of our relationship, not acknowledging the shady ones. We are not made for each other, it's as simple as that.”
His declaration felt like the final nail in the coffin of their marriage. It pained her and at the same time relieved her.
“Claire… We are not soulmates. I know you don't quite believe in the concept, don't believe it's all there can be. And maybe you are right, we certainly aren't the only couple made of non-mates, and certainly not the last, and maybe for them it works anyway. But for us, it doesn't. We met at a moment of our life where we were what the other needed. We made each other happy. But, Claire, we have to see the truth as it is. We do not fit. We're simply too different, with different goals, values and even beliefs.”
Frank finished talking, Claire sighed, and they both let silence consume them for a moment. A minute of silence, of grief for their doomed relationship.
“Frank, I know. And I think, like you said, a part of me has always known. I'm sorry that you suffered because of me.” he tried to shush her, but she shot him a reproachful look, he had his occasion to talk, now he had to let her have it too. “I am, truly. I'm sorry we weren't enough for each other, soulmates or not. But, I am not sorry for our marriage. Nor for loving you. You gave me everything at a time where I had nothing. And I won't ever forget it. I won't ever forget you nor stop loving you, I hope you know that.”
The hand that held hers tightened with a silent message of love, warmth, comfort. A knowing look sent to her told her he appreciated her words, the effort she put into articulating as well as she could heavy emotions that would change their futures forever. The small smile that took his lips said back all the words she said to him. And Claire was content with the knowledge that at least they would always matter to each other.
Claire couldn't say who first lunged towards the other, but they embraced each other tightly. One final embrace, one final loving gesture. One final moment of love as husband and wife.
Their ride back should have been awkward and tense. Yet, it wasn't at all. Actually it was much more comfortable than the first one. The air was cleared between them. Pure of any lingering thoughts. Light from the heavy words that had remained unsaid for too long finally being let out into the world.
What was important to say had been heard by the both of them.
Logistics, details and practicalities could be sorted later, easily.
Claire hoped it could remain this way.
Her illusions were shattered quickly after that.
Once they reached the hotel, they had gone together to their room, not by habit, they haven't been living together long enough for it to become anything as such, but maybe more because they didn't think it through. Standing side by side in the room where they had placed all their meager hopes for maybe making it work was like a harsh wake-up call.
Something that made them realize that truly, this page of their life, however important and ground-shifting as it had been, was about to be turned over and would leave place for new adventures and important people.
They stood there for a long time, stiff and silent. The few people that passed by them looked at them confused, gossiping right after turning the corner.
However, they still remained almost comatose under the weight of the looming future.
Finally, Claire decided it was time to get into action. They certainly wouldn't spend the rest of their lives like mummies waiting to be moved by someone else.
She entered the room and headed for her luggage. It was barely touched, not only because of her training and habits not letting her be disorganized, but also because a part of her had known it may eventually come to that instant right there.
She had been gathering the few pieces of toiletries that were on the vanity when Frank interrupted the silence.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I'm doing?” she raised her eyebrow, and while the words could have passed as mean, her tone had only been teasing.
“I see very well that you are packing, but, Claire you don't have to. I can easily get another room for me while we are still in Inverness.”
“Oh, no need, Frank. A friend of mine, Ms. Graham, works for the veteran center here, she's a caretaker at the institution. I received a message from her yesterday after she saw our pictures on the Internet from when we first arrived. She's invited us to spend a few days at her home, but I'm sure she won't be perturbed by the turn of events. It makes no sense to pay for another room when I can go to a friend's house. Also, I think it could do us well to not be in this same building when we just put an end to our marriage, you know?”
Frank stayed silent a few moments, contemplating their options and the finality of her words.
“Alright, but please, send me a message or call me to tell me if everything is alright, okay?”
She nodded, grateful he wouldn't fuss further. “I will.”
She finished packing very quickly. And she was almost cursing herself for her swiftness. Now would come the awkward goodbye, and she wasn't sure she could deal with it.
Frank saw her almost fidgeting over her luggage, her eyes straying anywhere but on him, and she heard him sigh.
“Claire, please don't make it more bizarre than it already is.”
She looked up, and at the sight of his wry smile, a laugh got out of her. A laugh so good, so cathartic and so surprising. She hadn't known she needed this so much.
After she calmed herself a bit, she took the elongated handle of her suitcase and advanced towards the door, and Frank that still hadn't moved from his position.
She took his hand in both of hers, and squeezed it to imprint this impression on her mind forever.
“Thank you, Frank, for the laugh. For everything.”
“You're welcome Claire. Thank you too.”
The words could seem unimportant and meager compared to what they meant, but they didn't need more than just that. It was simple, heartfelt and genuine. The best ending that could exist.
“I'll call you tomorrow, alright? We'll talk papers and all that boring stuff then?”
“Of course, Claire. Don't worry.”
Their hands let each other go, the heat of their palms still felt on each, the memory of a love gone, and the hope of a happy future taking up the space bared between them.
“Goodbye, Frank.”
“Goodbye, Claire.”