[She comes to stasis often. There are too many people to visit--and even so, sometimes she finds herself looking at the faces of those she might not want to see as badly as her husband and daughter. Frank, as still and silent as he was that day on the table in the morgue. Jack Randall, blessedly quiet--of all people to awaken again, he's the one she least wishes to see. She knows the day the man died, but she never did ask Jamie the particulars of it. There had never been a good moment and in the end, maybe it didn't matter. Except now, maybe it does.
Today, she hadn't settled on what person she'd like to sit and talk at quietly for a bit, but she likely won't get that far.
She knows what a Randall looks like from a mile away. Even Alex Randall was easily identifiable, and Claire feels her blood run cold. Which one?]
Frank?
[No, maybe not. He even from a length away Claire can tell it's not the Frank she knew. Too young, and holds himself different. It's like running into Jack Randall that day by the stream. The same man, but not. But she's older now. Smarter, hopefully, and so while she presses a hand to her chest to stop her heart from escaping through it, she thinks.]
III. IT REALLY, REALLY IS
Today, she hadn't settled on what person she'd like to sit and talk at quietly for a bit, but she likely won't get that far.
She knows what a Randall looks like from a mile away. Even Alex Randall was easily identifiable, and Claire feels her blood run cold. Which one?]
Frank?
[No, maybe not. He even from a length away Claire can tell it's not the Frank she knew. Too young, and holds himself different. It's like running into Jack Randall that day by the stream. The same man, but not. But she's older now. Smarter, hopefully, and so while she presses a hand to her chest to stop her heart from escaping through it, she thinks.]
Who the hell are you?