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We have to establish that Jamie's alive 20 years after Culloden.

Part of me doesn't want to find him either,

because once we do, you'll go back to Boston.

I believe these belong to you.

I never thought I would see these again.

Claire?

It's the hospital in Boston.

Hello, this is Dr. Randall.

I scheduled a surgery for next week.

You can handle it, Joe.

Let me know how it goes.

"Freedom an' whisky gang thegither!"

- I used to quote that to Jamie. - We will find him.

This is exactly what Mrs. Graham warned me about,

spending my life chasing a ghost.

It's time to go home.

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Sutures are in place.

We're done here. Let's pack her.

Hold on.

I think I still see some necrosis under here.

More retraction.

Systolic's dropped to 80.

We need to control the bleeding and start packing.

We get the necrosis, and then I will tie off the bleeder.

Forceps.

- Down to 70. - Dr. Randall.

- Two seconds. - We don't have two seconds.

Then one.

Scissors.

That's it.

Forceps.

I found the bleeder. Clamp.

Tie it off.

75 and climbing.

Scissors.

All right. Let's pack her.

"Listen, my children, and you shall hear

of the midnight ride of Paul Revere."

Well, we've all heard Longfellow's immortal verse.

That fateful night... April 18, 1775.

"One if by land, two if by sea."

And our hero, spreading the warning

of the British attack and then single-handedly

saving the day.

Except...

it's a lie.

Revere did ride that night,

but he had company...

Two men, in fact...

William Dawes and Samuel Prescott.

Revere made it to Lexington, but he was captured

by the redcoats.

It was Prescott who completed the mission.

But his name is lost to history. Why?

Revere had a better publicist.

Okay.

After the Christmas break, we'll continue to examine

how fictional prose can alter

the perception of history.

Have a great holiday.

Uh, Miss Randall, a word?

You're failing.

This can't come as a surprise.

I've spoken with your other professors,

and it's not just history.

Maybe I'm just not as smart as everyone thinks I am.

You wouldn't be at Harvard if that were the case.

Your father was more than just a colleague.

He was my friend.

So I've always felt a responsibility

to look out for you.

Last semester, your grades were outstanding.

What's changed?

You can talk to me.

Everything's fine.

You've got to turn this around, Brianna...

or your future here is in jeopardy.

- You got that look. - Hmm?

The same look you had when you came back from Scotland.

You ever gonna tell me what really happened over there?

There's nothing to tell, really.

Did you meet a man, Lady Jane?

- Not exactly. - Jesus.

I can't believe you held out on me.

Well?

Well, there was someone.

From my past.

So he's Scottish?

As Scottish as they come.

Sounds serious.

As serious as it comes.

Hell, what happened?

We... we went our separate ways.

And I had hoped that we would be able

to find each other again, but...

fate had other ideas.

Fuck fate.

The postsurgical reports you asked for, Doctor.

I'm off the clock.

See you tomorrow, Joe.

To be continued.

I've come this far.

No turning back now.

Oh, this is either the most daft thing I've ever done

- or the most brilliant. - Uh-huh, yeah.

$2.50, pal.

Keep the change.

Brianna, if that is the issue,

then you do not go out. You buckle down.

You're not listening.

What?

Happy Christmas.

Look who's here.

Roger.

What a wonderful surprise.

- What are you doing in town? - I should've sent word.

Clearly, I've come at a bad time.

No, not at all.

- Brianna and I were just... - Yelling.

Uh, Brianna has... decided

to withdraw from Harvard

and is moving out.

Which is my decision to make.

- Well, I, um... - Let me call Dean Tramble.

I'm sure he can have you reinstated.

No! You're not listening!

I need a break.

You expect me to just come back to Boston

and be who I was?

I tried, and it's not working.

Look, I have to go.

I'm sorry, Roger.

It's good to see you.

Let's hang out tomorrow, okay?

I'm so sorry, Roger. Let me take your coat.

Thank you, but perhaps it's best I check into my hotel.

- I-I don't want to... - Nonsense.

No, you'll... You'll stay here.

Have you been back to Inverness?

No.

With Father gone, well...

there's nothing there for me but books and dust.

It's your first Christmas without the Reverend.

Aye.

Aye, he, um...

he always liked to bring toys to the children's home.

We were known to sing a rousing round of

"O Come All Ye Faithful" for the children

and then eat Mrs. Graham's plum pudding.

So I suppose that's one of the reasons

why I took this trip.

I'd like to try an American Christmas.

Maybe make some new traditions of my own.

We used to always read A Christmas Carol

to Brianna every year...

till she grew out of it, I guess.

Or maybe Frank and I did.

Mm. You seem to be a magnet

for our family quarrels.

You were quarrelling? I hadn't noticed.

You didn't just come here for an American Christmas, did you?

Is it that obvious?

Well, I'm glad you're here.

Brianna needs someone to talk to,

and you're the only one who understands

what she went through during the summer.

Ah, she puts up a good facade.

Well, I think it's finally hitting her.

Can I pour you a whisky?

Sure.

I have some news...

that might put a smile on your face.

Well, I could do with some good news.

I'm a historian.

That's what I do.

I pursue.

I'm like a dog with a bone.

What are you saying?

I found him.

Well, I found an article written in 1765

in a journal called Forrester's.

It advocates the repeal on the restrictions

of the import of spirits to the Scottish Highlands.

Look at this line.

"For as has been known for ages past,

Freedom and whisky gang thegither."

At the hotel bar in Edinburgh, you told me

you quoted that line to Jamie.

- You think he wrote this? - I do.

Look.

Even in the opening of the article,

quotes the poem again,

addressing the ruling classes, "Ye knights an' squires,

wha' represent our Brughs and Shires..."

But this is a poem by Robert Burns.

Anybody could have known this.

Robert Burns was only six years old in 1765.

The poem wasn't written until 21 years later.

Only someone with knowledge of the future

could have quoted lines that hadn't been written yet.

But it doesn't indicate an author.

Have a look at the printer's name.

Alexander Malcolm.

Jamie's middle names, no?

He was a printer?

And living in Edinburgh in 1765.

According to the parallel timeline

on our calendar...

that's only a year ago.

Now, I never asked you to do this.

- I thought you'd want to know. - Well, I don't.

I'm sorry.

I could've lived the rest of my life not knowing.

20 years ago...

I shut the door on the past.

And it was the hardest thing I have ever done.

And when you told me

he survived Culloden...

I began to hope.

I can't go through that again.

But this isn't just hope.

This, this is...

This is real. You can go to Jamie.

And leave Brianna?

With everything that she's going through now?

How?

How could I do that to her?

I am her mother, and she needs me.

And I cannot abandon my daughter.

How can I help? What can I do?

Just don't tell her.

It will only confuse matters.

I won't say a word.

I know you meant well, Roger.

Thank you for a lovely dinner.

I think I'll retire now... A bit of jet lag, I'm afraid.

What's all this about?

A friend of mine, Horace Thompson,

sent these over for a second opinion.

Pretty lady.

Full grown, mature, maybe late 40s.

He sent you over a 150-year-old murder victim.

You're only off by about 50 years.

Horace is an anthropologist,

and as he's looking for a cause of death,

what made you think she was murdered?

I don't know.

She's from a cave in the Caribbean.

There were artifacts found with her.

Aha.

Lookee here.

You were right.

- Broken neck? - More than that.

Bone's not just cracked.

Fracture plane's right through the centrum.

Somebody tried to cut this lady's head clean off...

With a dull blade.

How did you know?

She just... felt like it.

Found in a cave, you said?

A secret slave burial, they think.

But this lady's no slave, no, sirree.

She wasn't black. See her tibia?

- Mm. - Short, relative to the femur.

The crural index.

This lady was white.

- Bones don't lie. - They tell all.

Now... what aren't you telling me

about your man in Scotland?

He's...

He's Bree's real father.

And I told her when we were in Scotland.

That's the reason she's struggling so much

at the moment.

I'm glad you told me. Explains a lot.

You still love him?

I never stopped.

No one thought you and Frank were Ozzie and Harriet.

I've watched you live a half-life for 15 years.

If you have a second chance at love,

you should take it.

Brianna will come around.

Thank you, Joe.

She was desperate to be reunited with him,

no matter what sacrifice she had to make.

Even her life?

Yes, Barnabas, even her life.

She wanted to be with him that much.

I know it's been very difficult for you to accept...

You're kidding. Dark Shadows?

Shh! Barnabas has just lost Victoria.

Chris is worried he'll change into a werewolf,

and... and... and Elizabeth,

she thinks she's gonna be buried alive.

What would your posh colleagues at Oxford say if they knew

you were rotting your brain on daytime TV?

Ah, those troglodytes wouldn't understand

the travails of the House of Collins.

Sorry about yesterday.

I shouldn't have dropped in unannounced.

I'm glad you did.

I came for an American Christmas

and... lobster rolls

and Boston cream pies, of course.

You know, I might know someone who can help you with that.

There's this thing for my father at Harvard later today.

They're naming a fellowship after him.

Maybe you could come.

We could go early,

and I can show you the hallowed halls.

I'd be honored.

We could watch the rest of the episode first, of course.

These are the Robinson cloisters,

one of the only examples of Gothic revival on campus.

I wonder how many people have wandered

through here over the years.

The conversations that took place,

the secrets etched in its nooks and crannies.

It's funny.

I've been coming here since I was a kid.

My dad used to bring me, and...

I never once thought about that.

You never wondered whether John Adams or...

or Teddy Roosevelt or John Kennedy stood

under these same arches?

Nope.

No, I was always fascinated with how this was built...

That every single piece of stone

is held in place by the pressure of the one next to it.

It's based on measurements, calculations, precision.

There's a truth to this building.

That doesn't sound like the daughter of a historian.

Well, I'm not, am I?

I'm the daughter of an 18th-century highlander.

I had few memories of my real father.

Although there were boxes in the garage...

His letters, his things, but...

the reverend told me a story

about what he was like as a child.

How he made a martin house, but he made the hole too big,

and a cuckoo got in.

It's a silly story, really, but...

he made my father real to me.

And knowing my father

helped me know myself.

Everybody needs a history.

But how do you know it's true?

What if he made it up to make you feel better?

Does it matter?

But that's my point.

What is history?

It's just a story.

It changes depending on who's telling it.

Like Paul Revere's, like Bonnie Prince Charlie's...

like my parents', like my own.

History can't be trusted.

We should get going.

The ceremony is about to start.

We're here to honor the exceptional work

of the late Professor Frank Randall,

who served this university for nearly 20 years,

and to announce the recipient

of the newly named Frank W. Randall fellowship

in the field of European studies, but...

first, let's talk about Professor Randall

and his groundbreaking research.

Dean Tramble, it's wonderful of you

- to honor Frank this way. - It's the least we could do

after all he did for the university.

Well, thank you.

Oh, Professor Travers.

I'll need your grant proposal by Monday.

The endowment board waits for no man...

- Or woman. - It'll be on your desk

first thing, sir.

Oh, I'm sorry. This is Sandy Travers,

one of Professor Randall's former students.

This is his wife, Claire.

Pleased to meet you.

Professor Travers is undertaking research

on the influence of colonial English

on autochthonous languages.

That's fascinating.

Dean, can I have a word?

Uh, excuse me.

Frank would've hated all this fuss.

I think he would've rather liked it.

He always told me, "The work is the reward."

If you'll excuse me.

You should've let him go.

- I beg your pardon? - All those years.

You never wanted him, but you wouldn't give him up.

I don't see how that's any of your business.

He told me he stayed with you for Brianna,

but I knew.

A part of him was still in love with you

and always would be,

no matter how much you broke his heart.

I had to live with that

because he was the love of my life.

And I wanted him,

even if it meant I had to share him with you.

I could've made him happy.

But you were selfish. You wanted it all.

So you lived a lie,

and you made Frank and Brianna live it too.

You threw away 20 years with him.

I would give anything to have just one more day.

That blonde woman at the ceremony...

I recognized her. Who is she?

Uh, she was a student of your father's.

I remember her.

We were at this bookstore once,

and Daddy stopped to talk to her.

Something about it... The way he looked at her...

it was the same way he used to look at you.

Back at the stones, we said no more lies...

Only the truth between us.

Frank loved her.

It went on for many years,

and he was planning on marrying her.

You told me I looked like Jamie.

All my life, Daddy had to look at me

and see another man... The man you really loved.

He must have hated me.

Oh, no, darling.

No.

You were the one thing

that was really important to Frank.

Raising you... That was his life's work,

his greatest joy.

What about you?

There must've been a part of you that resented me.

I was the reason you lost Jamie.

Never.

What I resented

was that I had to leave Jamie.

But the day you were born

and I held you in my arms

and nursed you for the first time

and you looked up at me...

I've never felt anything else like it.

I love you for you, Brianna.

Not for the man who fathered you.

You must still think about him.

I do.

There's something else that I...

Need to be honest about.

"Alexander Malcolm."

This... this is Jamie?

- You found him? - Oh, Roger did.

Then you can go back.

That's not why I'm telling you this.

My life is here, with you.

I'm all grown up, Mama.

I could live on my own.

I love you, but I don't need you...

Not the way I did when I was little.

I know.

Come on.

And God called the light day,

and the darkness, he called night.

And the evening and the morning were the first day.

How do you take a trip like that

and come back to life as you knew it?

And let it divide the waters from the waters.

And God made the firmament and divided the waters...

I had been, in many ways,

further than the moon,

on an even more impossible journey.

And the answer was yes, you can come back to your life,

but it's never the same.

But maybe it was enough to have gone once.

How many people can say they had that?

And from the crew of Apollo 8,

we close with good night,

good luck, a merry Christmas, and God bless all of you,

all of you on the good Earth.

Apollo 8, Apollo 8, this is Houston.

Three minutes...

Bree, have you thought this through?

If I go...

I may never be able to come back.

It's not like an elevator,

where you can just jump on and off.

You've done it before.

But there are no guarantees.

It's possible we may never see each other again.

Can you live with that?

'Cause I don't know if I can.

To not be there to... to see you get married.

Walk you down the aisle,

or to watch you become a mother...

hold my first grandchild.

I know. It won't be easy.

But I have been trying to figure out

if I was more Randall or Fraser.

And what I realized is that I'm more you

than I am either of my fathers.

And if I can turn out to be half the woman you are,

then I'll be fine.

But I'm the one who knows you better than anyone.

You know who doesn't know me?

Jamie.

You owe it to him to go back,

and I want you to go.

And tell him everything.

There's something else.

What if he's forgotten me?

Or what if he doesn't love me anymore?

You told me what you felt for Jamie

was the most powerful thing you ever felt in your life.

Has that changed?

No.

Then you have to trust it's the same for him.

You gave Jamie up for me.

Now I have to give him back to you.

Joe, I need a second opinion.

What's the case?

Well, actually, what I need is an honest opinion...

- From a friend. - Okay.

Am I attractive?

Sexually?

It's a trick question, right?

No. I need a male point of view,

and, well, you're the only man

I can have this conversation with.

Is this about your man?

I'm thinking of giving it a go.

And you wanna look like you never left.

Well, I haven't seen him in 20 years.

Have I changed terribly

since I first met you?

You're a skinny white broad with too much hair

but a great ass.

He'll be in heaven when he sees you, Lady Jane.

That's exactly what I needed to know.

What?

It's nothing. Just...

thank you, Joe.

My pleasure. Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas.

We found them in an antique store.

These certainly will be useful in Edinburgh.

I wanted to get you a flashlight,

but Roger said you'd end up at another witch trial.

Well, I figured this would come in handy.

This would've been helpful first time around.

I've been thinking a lot about what else I'll need.

I borrowed some scalpels and penicillin

- from the hospital. - Clever.

Well, I thought, "1766 Edinburgh

will need it more than 1968 Boston."

Thank you both.

- It's incredibly generous. - Wait.

There's one more.

Bree.

It's beautiful.

Topaz.

It's your birthstone.

You'll need it when you go through the stones.

Gillian mentioned in her notebook

that gemstones were necessary.

I lost one both times I went through before.

First, my jeweled watch

and then the stone from Jamie's father's ring.

How are you going to carry all of this?

I suppose I have to make something.

You're going to make it?

After 15 years of making your costumes

and pageant outfits, I think I know my way

around a sewing machine, thank you very much.

That's brilliant.

You could have your very own utility belt,

just like the caped crusader himself.

You really do watch a lot of TV.

Mama!

- You dyed your hair. - Oh...

well, I just touched up the gray.

- A little help from Miss Clairol. - That looks very natural.

You look beautiful... With or without Miss Clairol.

So is this it?

The bat-suit.

Yes, I, uh...

I put some secret pockets in

so I can bring everything that I need.

You made it out of raincoats.

Well, it rains a lot in Scotland...

No matter what century.

The hem's a mess,

and one arm is still longer than the other,

- but... - Mama, I promise you,

no one is going to care.

Especially Jamie.

- Is that my... - Blouse.

May I borrow it?

It'll look perfect.

Pardon me. I, uh...

I have to fetch one last-minute provision.

He's a good one.

I know.

I want you to give this to Joe Abernathy.

It's, um... my resignation letter.

He'll know what to do with it.

And this is the deed to the house.

Your name's on it now,

along with all the bank accounts.

I can't believe you're not letting me

come with you to Scotland.

This is how I want to do it.

First time I went through,

I was terrified.

Second time, heartbroken.

This time, I want it to be peaceful.

If I had to say good-bye to you there...

I might never go.

Well...

That is not an option.

Oh, my beautiful girl.

I am gonna miss you so much.

But I'll be fine.

Find my father.

And give him this.

I have something I want to give you.

Scottish pearls.

Jamie gave these to me on our wedding night.

They were his mother's...

Ellen, your grandmother.

You could wear them on your wedding day, if you like.

They're beautiful.

Thank you, Roger...

for being a dog with a bone.

For everything.

I'll miss you.

One last thing...

wee nip for the road.

To freedom and whisky.

Freedom and whisky.

Stay here a minute.

Are you all right?

Lobster roll and Boston cream pie?

Maybe later, we can watch A Charlie Brown Christmas?

What's that?

Part of your new American Christmas tradition.

I have something for you too.

"Marley was dead, to begin with.

There was no doubt whatever about that.

The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman,

the clerk, the undertaker..."

When I was small,

I never wanted to step in puddles.

I couldn't bring myself to believe

that the perfect, smooth expanse

was no more than a thin film of water over solid earth.

I believed it was an opening into some fathomless space

and if I stepped in, I would drop at once

and keep on falling.

Even now, when I see a puddle in my path,

my mind half halts,

though my feet do not, and I hurry on...

With only the echo of the thought left behind.

Pardon. I'm looking for a printer.

Uh, Mr. Malcolm... Alexander Malcolm.

Aye, just down the way and to the left.

Carfax Close, madam.

Thank you.

That you, Geordie?

Took you long enough.

Where'd you go to get the ash?

All the way to Glasgow?

It isn't Geordie.

It's me...

Claire.

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