I think it would be very interesting to explore in a story how Claire would cope if she had to recover from a serious injury/accident/whatever and would be limited in her abilities for some time. She usually is always the one who heals other people and it would be quite the challenge for her to be a patient for a change.

It’s been a long battle but I think I finally conquered the writer’s block I’ve faced with the last stretch of this middle part to The Tagalong. Fingers crossed that the writing of it continues smooth through to the end. ~ Lenny

Fergus disobeys Jamie’s order to return to Lallybroch and instead follows them all the way to Craigh na Dun, inadvertently following Claire through the stones.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven

The Tagalong - Part Twelve

Thank goodness for Fergus, Claire thought as she listened to him reading to Brianna in the other room. It was impossible for her to sit up without her head spinning and her stomach lurching. But if she didn’t at least make the effort it was impossible to breathe.

She had called Mrs. Graham who had immediately offered what help she could but there was only so much the older woman could do. She’d brought soup and other food that only needed a little heating in the oven—which Fergus could handle, though Claire knew he must mutter about it—and Mrs. Graham had also taken a bit of laundry back with her to the manse, promising to return it the next day when she came to check in on them again.

It was also, thankfully, the weekend and Claire was off of work. Fergus had only a little schoolwork to complete. And Brianna had finished cutting a new tooth and was back to being her babbling and cooperative self.

But in truth, Claire was too physically miserable to give any concern more than a cursory consideration. She just wanted—needed—to sleep and get over whatever flu it was that somehow managed to leave her both shivering and sweating at the same time.

She dozed, waking when she heard a faint knock near the door.

She squinted to find Fergus standing with Brianna in his arms, squirming to get down.

“Where are les couches?”

Claire sighed then began to push herself up to a sitting position. She had to pause before she found the strength to move her legs around to the side of the bed and pause again with her head between her knees to make stop the room spinning.

“Mamamama,” Brianna cried, lunging for Claire and causing Fergus to lurch in order to maintain his hold of her.

“I’m coming, Bree,” Claire croaked but once he’d regained a firm footing, Fergus hefted Brianna into a more secure hold and shook his head, stepping back as Claire made it to her feet and began to approach.

Non, Mother Claire,” he scolded. “You must return to bed and rest. I can take care of Bree and will see her put to bed.”

“It’s fine, Fergus,” Claire insisted, trying to clear her throat but triggering a coughing fit instead. As she turned away to avoid coughing on her children, a whiff of Brianna’s soiled diaper made it through her clogged nasal passages and sent her running for the bathroom.

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