001. the wake of reverend wakefield
　

April 1968　
Inverness, Scotland　
　

　　BRIAN RANDALL HAD NEVER REALLY BEEN out of the States for too long. It was his home, after all, despite the British accents both his parents had spoken with his entire life. Only during the holidays or on special occasions, did they ever visit London. They had some relatives that lived there, and they would stay with them whenever they visited. London was beautiful and Brian always admired its architecture, but it wasn't home and it never would be. His home was in Boston, with his family and friends and loving girlfriend, and yet, it would still be a while longer before they returned to the States.

　　It had been early in the morning when his mother, Claire Randall, read the newspaper and discovered the obituary of the recently deceased Reverend Wakefield. She had been devastated when she found out that the man had passed away from a heart attack. Brian and Brianna knew that the Reverend had been a dear friend to their parents during their stay in Scotland some time ago, and so they had decided to accompany their mother when she insisted on driving the short distance to Scotland to pay her respects.

　　They arrived at the Wakefield home in time for the wake, and upon entering, were immediately greeted by people dressed in mostly black clothing. Some were in the parlor, others were in the living room, few were in the kitchen getting some refreshments, and all the children were grouped together in the late Reverend's study watching some television together. Hushed murmurs could be heard the further they walked into the home, and Brian could faintly hear people swapping stories about the dearly departed Reverend Wakefield. From what he could tell, the Reverend had been a great man and so many people had loved and cared for him.

　　"I'm going to have a look around," Claire told them as she began walking away, leaving the twins standing there in the parlor. "I want to see if I can find Mrs. Graham anywhere."

　　Brian nodded in his mother's direction, watching as she left, disappearing into the crowd of black dresses and dapper suits. He remembered his mother telling him and Brianna how often she would sit down and have tea with Mrs. Graham while their father would spend hours in the study with Reverend Wakefield.

　　His sister nudged him in the side after a moment. "Come on, let's have a look around," Brianna muttered.

　　Stuffing his hands inside the pockets of his dress slacks, Brian gave his twin sister a nod and the two began walking through the home, taking everything in. "What do you suppose this Roger Wakefield looks like? We should probably pay our respects."

　　Brianna shrugged. "Beats me. But, I'm sure momma will find him somewhere."

　　"If she even remembers what he looks like," Brian said as they stopped to look at one of the paintings along the wall. It was of a large open field with a tree and a sunset in the background. It was no doubt a Scotland landscape, though, Brian couldn't be quite sure considering this was their first time in the country. "He was just a kid the last time they were in Scotland, after all."

　　"Maybe." Then, Brianna commented on the painting, her mouth curving upwards as she spoke. "This really is a beautiful piece. The Reverend had good taste in art."

　　"Yeah," Brian agreed. "It's nice."

　　"Nice?"

　　"Not all of us can be gifted artists, you know," Brian said with a slight roll of his eyes. "You may have had the better doodles when we were kids, but at least one of us can name all the constellations."

　　Brianna shook her head in amusement, a smile working its way onto her face. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You're just jealous because I can see the beauty in art and the deeper meaning behind what we actually see and you cannot. You see, if you look here, you'll notice that the artist was . . ."

　　"Okay," Brian interrupted her rambling, slowly inching away with small steps. "I'm going to get us something to drink before I disrespect someone by falling asleep at a Reverend's wake from all your art talk."

　　His twin sister shook her head and rolled her eyes at his words, before looking up at the painting again and trying to stifle her amused laughter. Brian smirked as he turned on his heel, disappearing into the kitchen where he found mostly women. They were all dressed in darker tones with hats and handkerchiefs grasped in their gloved hands. He dipped his head and offered them a kind greeting whenever they looked his way.

　　After grabbing some drinks for both he and his sister, Brian left the kitchen before he could be roped into a conversation by someone he didn't even know. He eventually found his sister standing in the parlor and speaking with a man just a couple inches taller than herself. The man wore a brown tweed jacket over a white dress shirt and a nice pair of dark brown slacks. He had short hair and a neatly groomed beard, but the thing Brian noticed most of all, was that the two of them were smiling at each other and had stars in their eyes.

　　Brian shook his head and wiped the knowing smirk off his face as he walked over to them, stepping up beside his twin sister and offering her the glass of lemonade he had gotten from the kitchen. Immediately, the man she was speaking with took a step away from Brianna and looked down, as though he was worried he had just been flirting with a woman that was already spoken for and was now ashamed of his actions.

　　"Oh, Roger, this is my brother," Brianna said, taking the glass of lemonade with a small thank you. "Brian, this is Roger Wakefield."

　　Brian stared at the man for a moment, before reaching out a hand and offering his condolences. "Oh, of course. I'm sorry about your loss. From what I've heard, your father was a great man. Loved by many, it seems."

　　"Yes," Roger Wakefield said, briefly shaking his hand before letting go. "He was. My father had many people in his life that cared a great deal for him."

　　Before anything further could be said between them, Claire walked over, stepping up beside her two children and offering Roger Wakefield a small smile in greeting as his name tumbled from her lips in a question. "Roger?"

　　Brianna nodded at her mother, confirming that the man standing before them was indeed the one they have been searching for since they had arrived at the Wakefield home. "It is."

　　"Well, I can't believe it," Claire smiled fondly as she remembered the young boy from her past. She can still remember young Roger playing with a toy plane and often falling asleep in the chair of the study while her late husband and the Reverend did their research. "After all these years."

　　Roger was confused. "Uh, I'm sorry, but do I . . . do I know you?"

　　"Oh, of course, you wouldn't remember me." Claire honestly didn't expect him to remember her considering how young he had been. "Last time I saw you, you were about seven or eight years old." She extended a hand toward him. "I'm Claire Randall. I was an old friend of your father's."

　　As he shook her hand, Roger nodded, but there wasn't any hint of recognition in his eyes as he looked at the woman standing in front of him. He didn't seem to remember her at all. But, he didn't say anything, simply offering her a polite smile before dropping her hand.

　　Claire gave her condolences as she withdrew her hand. "Very sorry to hear about his passing."

　　"Thank you," Roger replied politely, for what they could only assume was the hundredth time today given how many people had come to pay their respects to the dearly departed Reverend Wakefield.

　　Claire dropped her hand and motioned toward her children. "I see you've met my son and daughter."

　　"Actually, no," Roger shook his head. "Well, sort of. I have met Brian, yes, but your daughter . . . I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced."

　　She reached out, shaking his hand. "Brianna. The daughter."

　　Roger smiled as he shook her delicate hand, and as he did, he couldn't help but notice how warm her skin felt against his own. "A pleasure, Miss Randall."

　　The two lingered in that moment, hands clasped together, gentle smiles on their faces and stars in their eyes. Brian and Claire couldn't help but share a knowing look with each other. Before the moment could continue a moment longer, Claire cleared her throat and spoke up, causing Roger and Brianna to drop their hands and finally break eye contact. Brian fought hard not to smirk, trying to remain well-mannered.

　　"We were staying with relatives down in London when we heard," Claire explained. "His heart, I believe?"

　　Roger nodded, his smile fading into a grief-stricken expression. "Yes, yes, uh . . . very sudden. I'd just seen him at Christmas, and he was in high spirits."

　　"I hadn't seen your father in a very long time, but I was very fond of him," Claire said.

　　"So was Daddy," Brianna spoke up.

　　"Oh, yes, of course," Claire acknowledged with a nod. "Uh, my late husband, Frank. They were very close. Good friends."

　　Suddenly, Roger Wakefield's eyes lit up with recognition, and he nodded his head as he looked at each of them. "Randall. Frank Randall, of course. I remember you now, yes. Claire. You . . . you're a nurse, as I recall."

　　Claire nodded, a smile on her face. "Oh, yes, I was. I . . . I'm a doctor now."

　　Brianna shook her head as she glanced at her mother. "She's being modest."

　　"She's a surgeon," Brian corrected their mother. "One of the best in all of Boston, actually. She was a top student when she graduated in her class."

　　Roger was impressed.

　　"We are visiting from the States," Claire explained, guiding the conversation elsewhere, for she knew her child would go on and on about how proud they were of her achievements in the field of medicine.

　　"Oh, I thought I detected an American accent." Roger glanced briefly at Brianna again, where his eyes lingered on her smile.

　　"Boston, to be exact," Brianna clarified.

　　"She's a history major in Harvard," Claire told him, a proud gleam in her eye.

　　"Really?" Roger's eyes found Brianna again, and he seemed rather shocked that she was a history major at such a prestigious college. "I'm on leave from the history department at Oxford."

　　Brianna pursed her lips. "Oxford. Impressive."

　　"And Brian here is studying astronomy at the University of Boston," Claire said proudly, motioning toward her youngest child.

　　"Mother, please," Brian scoffed. "I hardly think that Roger is interested in hearing about how I study the science of space. Not many people find it as interesting as you do."

　　"Well, I can think of one person that is always interested in your ramblings," Brianna said with a knowing smirk.

　　Brian gave her a pointed look. His sister liked to tease him when it came to his girlfriend of nearly a year, for it was true that Katherine Johanson loved to hear him go on and on about the stars. In fact, she was one of the only people that didn't seem to get bored when he talked about his passions.

　　"Well, I happen to find the study of astronomy to be a rather fascinating subject," Roger said, looking at Brian briefly. "When I was just a lad, the stars always fascinated me, though my passions took me elsewhere."

　　"There were times where I couldn't even get Brian to come inside." Claire smiled fondly at the memories of her son's childhood. "He'd insist on staying up well past his bedtime to look up at the stars. He could name nearly all the constellations by the time he was ten."

　　Roger smiled. "I was the same way," he said to Brian. "It was hard to sleep when I could instead be reading one of the history books from my father's collection in the study."

　　"Is Mrs. Graham still in the Reverend's employ?" Claire then asked, glancing around in search of said woman. "I haven't seen her yet."

　　Roger shook his head. "Sadly, we lost her a few years ago, but her granddaughter Fiona is here somewhere." He looked around the room in search of the petite brunette but couldn't find her anywhere. He figured that she had disappeared into the kitchen again, passing around more beverages to all the guests.

　　Claire smiled sadly, looking around the room, her bright eyes glistening with unshed tears. "So many things are the same, and yet things are so different. There are quite a lot of memories here." She looked at her children and Roger. "Would you excuse me? I'd like to take a look around."

　　"Yeah, of course," Roger nodded, watching as the woman walked away. An awkward moment passed before he glanced at Brian and Brianna, asking, "Uh, is this your first time in Scotland, then?"

　　Brianna nodded. "Uh-huh."

　　"We hardly leave Boston," Brian explained. "On the rare occasion that we do, it's to visit our relatives in London. But, it is a beautiful country, from what I have seen of it."

　　"And will you have much time to take in the sights while you're here?" Roger asked, glancing between the siblings, before his eyes rested upon Brianna, who answered his question.

　　"We only came up for the day so Mother could pay her respects," Brianna replied. "We're meant to be headed back to London this evening."

　　Although he tried to hide it, Brian could see how disappointed Roger was by that. "Oh, that's a shame," he said with a slight frown. "Beautiful, wild country. You would have loved it."

　　"I was always curious about Scotland. Well, we were always curious," Brianna quickly corrected, motioning toward her twin brother, who nodded in agreement as he took a sip from his glass of lemonade. "It was a special place to both our parents. We always secretly wanted to come here with them one day, but we never got the chance to vacation here."

　　"Roger?" A small, sweet voice interrupted the conversation, drawing their eyes toward a petite brunette. She offered the Randall siblings a brief smile before turning to face Roger again. "Beg your pardon, but it's time to say goodbye. The Browns are leaving."

　　"Oh, yes, of course," Roger nodded. "Thank you, Fiona." The woman walked away, and he turned to face the siblings with an apologetic expression. "Uh . . . you'll excuse me for a moment?"

　　"Yeah," Brianna smiled.

　　Brian nodded. "Of course."

　　Roger left then, to see to it that his guests were properly thanked for coming, and it was only Brian and his twin sister standing in the middle of the parlor now. He turned to face his sister once he knew Roger was out of earshot, a smirk crawling onto his face. "Wow, you two couldn't have been more obvious even if you tried."

　　Brianna's head snapped towards him, and she furrowed her brows in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

　　"Oh, please," Brian scoffed into his lemonade. "You two couldn't stop staring at each other the entire time. It's like the rest of us didn't even exist while you both were in your own little world together."

　　Brianna gaped at him, though, her cheeks turned a deep shade of pink. "That is . . . that is so not true! We were only talking."

　　"Sure it isn't," Brian smirked. "I'll, uh, leave you two alone to flirt⎯⎯I mean talk, some more."

　　His sister reached out to playfully slap him in the chest, but Brian stepped out of the way in time and threw her a small smile and a wink as he disappeared into the living room. There, he found his mother standing by the mantle, looking at some photographs of Reverend Wakefield and what appeared to be a much younger Roger Wakefield.

　　"Hey," Brian greeted, coming to stand by his mother's side. Her tears were gone now, but her eyes were still slightly red.

　　Claire turned to look at him. "Hey." She noticed she was lacking a child in her presence and furrowed her brows as she looked around. "Where's your sister?"

　　"I left her with Roger," Brian replied. "It was getting . . . well, let's just say Brianna might convince you to remain here a bit longer because it seems Scotland has suddenly piqued her interest."

　　Claire chuckled lightly. "Oh, I had a feeling something was going on between those two. They seemed quite smitten, didn't they?"

　　"Very," Brian agreed. "It was disgusting, really."

　　"Yes, well, now you know how your sister feels when she catches you staring at Katherine with those bright stars in your eyes."

　　Brian gave her a look. "That's different." She shook her head, laughing in amusement. He quickly changed the subject when she turned back to face the mantel along the fireplace. "So, uh, did you find anyone else that you knew?"

　　"Unfortunately not," his mother replied with a shake of her head and a small sigh. "I only knew Mrs. Graham. And the Reverend, of course. Your father and I never got to make many friends while we were here."

　　"I'm sorry," Brian said, frowning when he saw the grief on his mother's face as she stared at the photographs along the mantle. "That you lost them both without getting another chance to visit Scotland again."

　　"It would have been nice to see them again after all this time," Claire agreed with a sigh. She intertwined her arm with her son's and smiled up at him. "Come on, let's get some refreshments. I'm rather parched."

a/n: omg i can't BELIEVE that it took me, like, ten weeks to get the first chapter out i'm so sorry y'all 😭 i guess i got too caught up in watching the new season that i didn't even bother to come update this book. but don't worry, now that season six has come to an end, i'll be updating this book frequently!

anyways, i hope you all enjoyed this little taste you got of brian! you'll learn more and more about him as times goes on! next chapter we'll get some bonding time between roger and the randalls over dinner and their stay in scotland, which i'm honestly so excited to write!