part 6
Fitz waits for Jemma out in the strawberry fields. He’d wanted to go with her up to the Big House, but May had said that she’d have enough trouble sneaking her out of Athena cabin and up to the house without him standing around, ‘worrying and making noise.’ He’d felt pretty good about his ability to be quiet, and he was the one the harpies ignored for whatever reason, but he’d learned pretty quickly during his time at camp that you didn’t argue with May when she got that particular stormy look on her face, so he’s sitting in the strawberry fields, passing a little flame across his fingers to avoid tugging leaves off the plants in his nervousness.
The moon’s full and bright, so he can see her when she reaches the field, picking her way through the strawberries, and stands, letting the flame in his hand die. Jemma stops a little ways down the row from him, considering him for a second, and then she crosses the few feet between them to hug him. Fitz doesn’t hesitate in wrapping his arms around her in return, letting out a stuttering breath as her hold on him tightens a little.
It’s the first time in a long time, at least since Jemma was claimed, that it’s felt like just the two of them, with no camp or gods or destinies looming over their shoulders. They stand like that for a while, not moving or speaking, just holding each other, until Jemma pulls back to study him for a few seconds before settling down among the strawberry plants. He sits next to her, and she drops her head to rest against his shoulder.
“You know then? The Oracle talked to you?” he asks, and she nods without lifting her head.
“I am dark-eyed wisdom’s daughter. Doesn’t really describe anyone else in camp, does it?”
“It doesn’t all have to be about us. We could just be, you know, the signal that things are starting. None of the rest of it has to be about us at all.”
“May thinks it is. And from what she said, so does Coulson, and Chiron.”
Fitz doesn’t have anything to say in response to that, so he doesn’t say anything at all for a few minutes. Finally, he sighs, tipping his head to rest against hers, “When is May telling Coulson that we know?”
“Tomorrow morning, I think. She said she didn’t like keeping secrets from him, wanted to tell him as soon as she could. She’s pretty sure he’ll tell Chiron and Mr. D almost immediately, and that they’ll want to talk to us.”
Fitz nods, as that’s pretty much what she’d told him the other day, and then they sit in silence for a while.
“It’s a little bit exciting, you know,” Jemma says, and Fitz lifts his head so he can turn to look at her, “The idea that we could be heroes, like in the stories.”
She’s looking up at the stars while she talks, and he smiles. He should have known she’d be excited about the prospect of having a chance to save the world; Jemma has always been the braver out of the two of them, the one who thought there was some greater purpose for the abilities they had.
Fitz tilts his head back to rest against hers, and they sit like that for a few minutes. Eventually, Jemma scoots away from him a little, tugging on his shirt until he stretches out along the ground and she can curl up against his side, pulling the blanket he’d brought with him up over both of them. A feeling remarkably similar to the one that Hestia had filled him with using her fire blooms in his chest, and he looks down to see Jemma looking up at him from his shoulder, already half asleep, smiling softly.
“We’re going to be all right,” she says, and Fitz takes a deep breath, nodding slightly, although he’s pretty sure Jemma is already asleep and can’t see him. He squirms a little to get comfortable, and she protests the movement without waking up. Fitz falls asleep smiling.
—————–
When they were playing ping-pong with Trip and Skye, the rec room seemed pretty inviting, but that’s not true now. Fitz and Jemma are at one end of the table, with Chiron and Mr. D at the other end. Coulson and May are next to them, and Fitz can’t help noticing that they’re standing farther apart than they usually do. John Garrett is there as well, leaning against the wall and looking bored; Fitz isn’t sure how comfortable he is with him being here, or how much he knows about the prophecy. The older boy has always been nice to him, when he bothers to pay any attention to him at all, but he doesn’t really know him at all, and he doesn’t have much desire to.
Chiron’s sheer size means he dominates the room, but the stormy expression on his face would be enough to do the trick for him, even if he’d been in his wheelchair. Mr. D seems torn between boredom and anger, sipping on his Diet Coke with arms crossed, staring down the table at Fitz and Jemma before shifting to glare at May.
“Melinda,” Chiron starts, and Fitz tries to remember if he’s ever heard May called by her first name, “I can’t say I’m not disappointed in you. I thought I was very clear about the camp’s policy concerning prophecies.”
“You were.” May is holding eye contact with the centaur, mouth set in a straight line.
“A policy that has existed for centuries.”
“Yes.”
“A policy that I have formed through hundreds of experiences dealing with prophecies, and which you countered based on a single incident.”
“So the loss of any demigod is acceptable?” May challenges, and Mr. D opens his mouth to respond before Chiron cuts him off with a look.
“Of course not. Which is why we do the best we can.”
“That’s all I was trying to do,” May says, and Chiron sighs, glancing down the table at Fitz and Jemma before turning back to her.
“I know. And I’ve talked with Garrett and Coulson, and they agree with that assessment,” he says, and May looks quickly at Coulson, who won’t meet her eye. Garrett speaks up from his spot against the wall.
“It’s not that I really care whether you were right or wrong, it’s more that I just don’t care that you told them. I’m not really convinced it’s about him,” he says, smiling, and Fitz feels Jemma tense next to him, pulling herself up to her full height.
He stiffens too, wants to say something but isn’t sure what. It’s like when Ward had said he belonged in the forge or May had tried to say he was afraid; Fitz knows it’s true, but someone saying it out loud bothers him, despite the fact that he’s been saying the same thing for the past few days every chance he got.
“Thank you for your input, Gordon,” Mr. D says, and Garrett leans away from the wall like he’s going to correct him, but he continues without acknowledging him, “Hephaestus certainly thinks so. And Hestia does, if the fact that she claimed him is any indication.”
Chiron looks at Hephaestus and everyone else looks at Fitz, who squirms under the scrutiny. He’d meant to tell them, especially Jemma, but he hadn’t really managed to figure out how to do it yet. He tugs at his ear nervously, staring down at a place on the ping-pong table where the painted lines have faded.
“Hestia claimed you?” Chiron asks, turning from Mr. D to join the rest of them in staring at Fitz, who nods.
“A few nights ago. With the, um, glowing symbol over my head and everything.”
“She hasn’t done that in decades. Not for anyone, much less someone who has already been claimed,” the centaur says, sounding almost impressed, and Fitz shifts under his gaze, “Did she say why she did it?”
“Why does she have to have a particular reason? Can’t she have just claimed him because she wanted to? Because he’s Fitz?” Jemma says, stepping forward so she’s just slightly in front of him, her shoulder overlapping his.
Chiron smiles, though it’s small. “Of course. I’m sorry if my question indicated that I might have thought otherwise, Jemma.” Yet another sigh, “I know this is a lot for the two of you to take in, and I’m sorry you’re having to deal with it, whether or not the prophecy is about you. Garrett is right that we can’t know for sure what it means, not right now, though we all have our guesses, I’m sure. I’d ask that the two of you not tell anyone else about the prophecy, at least for the moment, and that you not worry too much about it. Neither of you turn sixteen for more than a year, so hopefully we have a little time to prepare before you’re needed, if you’re needed at all. But the more people that know, the more danger you may be in.
“That goes for the three of you as well,” Chiron says, turning to look at Coulson, May and Garrett, “While I understand why you thought you needed to do what you did, I would ask that you refrain from it in the future. Since you seem quite convinced that Fitz and Jemma are the subjects of the prophecy, I don’t think you’ll find that too difficult, Melinda. Now, if the rest of will excuse us, May and I have to discuss the editions to her chore rotation for the next few weeks.”
Coulson looks like he wants to say something, and Fitz almost speaks up in her defense as well, but May silences both of them with a look. I made my choice. She knew what was going to happen if she told Fitz and Jemma, and she was ready to accept the consequences. The other four campers file out of the house, leaving her to deal with Chiron and Mr. D.
Garrett nods at Coulson before setting off toward the arena, where Fitz assumes Ward is waiting for him; the two sons of Ares have been spending even more time training lately than usual. Coulson manages to smile back at his friend, then turns to the two younger campers.
“I’d better go make sure my cabin hasn’t gotten into too much trouble while they knew I was busy. They get sort of antsy on the weekends towards the end of summer. Well, even antsier than usual.” He smiles at them before starting towards the cabins at a jog.
“We should probably find Trip and Skye, before they wonder where we are. Skye will never stop asking questions if she thinks something is up, and you know how awful I am at lying. It’s probably best that I don’t have to try,” Jemma says, and Fitz nods, staring after Coulson.
“You go ahead. I need to talk to Coulson- I need to tell Coulson something. I’ll catch up,” he says, and waits for Jemma to nod before setting off after the older boy. Fitz catches up to him at the door of Hermes cabin and Coulson invites him in. They stand in the empty cabin for a few seconds, Coulson walking around and straightening up his siblings’ things, Fitz standing a couple steps inside the door; this is the first time he’s been back since he’d been claimed.
“I’m sorry,” he blurts, when he finally can’t stand the silence anymore. Coulson looks up from where he’s inspecting something one of his siblings had hidden under their bed, probably trying to figure out if it was stolen or not.
“For what?”
“Um, well, you and May have been fighting, and I know you didn’t want her to tell me about the prophecy. I feel bad that you guys are fighting because of me.”
Coulson sighs, “Thanks, but it’s not your fault.” Another sigh, this one longer, “It’s not her fault either. It’s not anybody’s fault.” He stares at the object in his hands for a few seconds longer before tossing it back onto the bed with a shrug.
“You know, I was already at camp when everything happened with the Avengers and Kronos. I was pretty young, but I was here. And I thought, after everything they did, everything the camp went through- I mean, they had to fight Kronos, and a handful of other Titans alongside him. I thought maybe we’d get at least a little break before we had to save the world again, you know? It’s not like I expected life to suddenly turn into a picnic for demigods, not even with the things the Avengers got the gods to agree to or the other things that changed when they defeated Kronos. But I didn’t think I’d see anything like this again, not any time soon.”
“You know what the prophecy means, don’t you? Or at least you think you do,” Fitz says, and Coulson smiles, nods.
“I’ve got some pretty good guesses. I’m not going to tell you,” he continues, at Fitz’s expectant look.
“Why not? You said that you thought May did the right thi-”
“All I ever said was that I know May did what she did because she thought it was the right thing to do. That doesn’t mean that I think she was right, or that I’m going to do the same thing. Prophecies can be incredibly dangerous, and whether I’m right in what I’m thinking or not, this one is going to be enough trouble without me making it worse.”
“How do you know that you’d make it worse?”
“I don’t. Just like May didn’t know if she’d make it any better by telling you and Jemma. You’re just going to have to trust that when the time comes, you’ll know what you need to know. Now, I really do need to go check on my siblings. If nobody keeps an eye on them, they’re likely to walk out of camp for the year with just as much of somebody else’s stuff in their suitcase as their own.” He gives Fitz one more smile, than ducks around him and out the cabin door. Fitz follows after a few seconds, since there’s no reason to hang around the Hermes cabin if Coulson won’t give him any answers.
The scene that greets him outside is surprising; Trip, Skye and Jemma are all gathered around the campfire in the center of the buildings, talking to Hestia, who waves him over with a smile.
“You have very nice friends, Leopold,” she says, when he’s slipped into the circle between Skye and Jemma.
“Thanks,” he says, and Skye bumps his shoulder with hers.
“Pretty sure that was a compliment for us, Leopold,” she says, and he glares at her, “Trip and I were just going to look for you guys when we saw Jemma talking to Hestia here and came to find out what was up.”
“You claimed him?” asks Trip, and Hestia nods, “Won’t his dad be mad about that?”
“He might be, but he’ll have a hard time telling me about it.”
“Why?”
“The gods aren’t allowed to fight in her presence,” Jemma says, and Hestia smiles.
“Very good, Jemma. So even if Fitz’s father would like to have it out with me, I don’t think he’ll have much luck. And it wouldn’t matter to me anyway. I didn’t claim Fitz just to spite his father; it had very little to do with anyone but Fitz himself.”
Fitz blushes, and Skye bumps his shoulder again, harder than last time, but she’s smiling, “Any way, Trip and I were looking for you two. He wants to try to beat his best time on the rock wall, and of course he needs as much of an audience as possible. Ward’s supposed to come too, whenever he’s done training with Garrett. He would probably be done already, but he couldn’t find Garrett this morning.”
“I think I saw him heading over towards the arena a little while ago,” Jemma says, and Fitz bites back a smile.
“I’ll let you go then, if there are records on the line. It was nice meeting you, Jemma and Skye, and nice seeing you again, Trip,” Hestia says, and Fitz turns to Trip.
“You know Hestia?” he asks, and Trip nods.
“I stop to talk to her sometimes,” he says with a shrug, and Fitz is surprised for a moment before he realizes that it’s actually a pretty Trip thing to do.
“Good luck with your record, Trip,” Hestia says, and then turns back to her fire with a smile.
“Thanks. All right, let’s go. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, I’m feeling loose and limber. It’s gonna be a good day,” Trip says, and Skye rolls her eyes. Fitz catches Jemma’s eye as she laughs, smiles at her, and at Trip and Skye, and for the first times in days, he stops worrying about the prophecy and what it may or may not mean and follows the others toward the rock wall.
—————
The last month or so of the summer session passes pretty quickly. Even with his and Jemma’s daily training with May, it’s surprisingly easy to put the prophecy out of his mind. Once Coulson and Chiron knew that May had told them, he doesn’t have to talk about it nearly as often, and as Chiron had pointed out, it’s more than a year until either of their sixteenth birthdays; beyond attending training, there’s not much they can do until they know more.
Ward asks Skye to go to the July 4th fireworks show with him, which she and Jemma seem really excited about. Fitz doesn’t really understand their excitement, even after Trip tries to explain it. He has to help set up for the show, but afterwards he sits with Trip, Anne and Jemma. Coulson and May stop to talk to them for a little while, and Fitz is glad to see that the two of them don’t seem to be fighting anymore.
By the early part of August, camp is starting to empty out pretty quickly. Coulson says that a decade ago, before everything happened with the Avengers and Kronos, there were a lot more monsters out in the mortal world and a lot more kids staying at camp over the summer. But, with fewer monsters escaping Tartarus on a regular basis, most kids now choose to spend the school year at home with their families. The kids who stay are usually the ones who don’t have much of a choice
Fitz is sitting on his bed in the Hephaestus cabin, watching Anne pack up her stuff. It’s the last day of the summer session, and all the rest of their siblings are gone, already home or up on Half Blood Hill waiting to catch a ride from their families or into the city with Argus in one of the camp’s vans.
“It’ll be nice to have someone to look after the cabin over the summer. If any new kids get claimed over the school year, you’re in charge of making sure they find a bed and get settled in and everything,” Anne says as she zips up her suitcase, and Fitz nods. She looks around the cabin, then nods and lets out a long breath, “I guess I’ll see you next summer then.”
“Do you need help carrying your bags?”
“No, I think I’ve got them. Take care, Fitz.”
“You too,” he says, and Anne disappears out the door with a smile. Fitz sits on his bed for a little while, then heads to lunch.
The camp feels empty, a feeling that’s driven home when he reaches the dining pavillion. He supposes that part of it is that usually, the whole camp is comfortably crowded around the tables, but now there’s only a few people at each table, if that. May and Coulson are sitting at the Hermes table, and Garrett and Ward are at that the Ares table, along with Raina, Aphrodite cabin’s head counselor. Fitz remembers Skye complaining about the fact that she won’t get the cabin to herself like Fitz or Jemma, who is sitting with Skye and Trip at the unclaimed table; Trip’s leaving tomorrow to go back to his mom’s, but he says he’ll be back in time for Fitz’s birthday.
There’s a few other people scattered around the various tables, most of whom Fitz knows only by name, and lunch is a much more subdued affair than usual, and so is dinner. Afterwards, he wanders back to his cabin, is surprised when he sees Hestia sitting in the middle of the floor near his bed. They’ve made kind of a habit of talking before he goes to bed, at least every few days. If he’s sleeping in the cabin, he’ll meet her at the main fire, and if he’s out in the strawberry fields, she’ll come out to him, with the miniature flame that seems to follow her everywhere. She’s never come into the Hephaestus cabin before though, although he supposes that’s just because the cabin has never been empty before. The tiny fire burns in the middle of the floor in front of her, and Fitz sits down across from her.
“The camp feels kind of strange, with everybody gone,” he says, and Hestia smiles.
“You’ll get used to it, after a while. And most of your friends are still here.”
“Yeah,” says Fitz, nodding, staring down at the little fire in front of him, grazing it with the fingertips of one hand.
“You should write your mother a letter.”
“You see me every couple of days, what would I write in a letter?” he asks, not looking up from the fire.
“I’m flattered, Leopold, but you know that’s not what I meant.”
“She- I mean, I just left. I wrote a bad note and I just left. She probably doesn’t-”
“She misses you. Every day.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s sort of my job to know. And what’s more, you know it, too, whatever you try to tell yourself.” Fitz can’t think of anything to say in return, so he keeps silent. “What do you think of, Leopold, when you think of home?”
Jemma. My mum. He thinks immediately, even though the two of them have never met, even though his mum doesn’t even know anything about Jemma, although he’s told Jemma just about everything about his mum.
“My mum,” he says, not wanting to say Jemma’s name for some reason, although he suspects from the smile on Hestia’s face that she already knows without him saying anything.
“Then you should write her a letter. Tell her you’re safe, and that you’ve found answers. About your friends. Don’t you think she’d want to know about Jemma?” Fitz nods, letting a flame jump from the fire onto his finger and then up his arm. “I like Jemma very much, you know.”
Fitz blushes, though he’s again not sure why. Jemma’s gotten into the habit of talking to Hestia while she waits for him to finish up at the forge before their training session with May, and sometimes she’ll come and talk with them before bed.
“I do, too,” he says, leaning a little closer to the fire, even though the heat doesn’t actually bother him and so there’s no way Hestia will buy that the color to his face is because of that.
“Speaking of,” she says, and Fitz turns to see Jemma, standing in the doorway, arms wrapped around a pillow and blanket, half hiding her face behind them.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were talking,” Jemma says, but Hestia smiles at her, standing.
“I was just leaving. You two should get some sleep.” Fitz turns to Jemma for a second, and when he looks back, Hestia is gone, all that’s left of her presence a last curl of smoke from the fire.
“I was thinking,” Jemma starts, taking a few steps into the cabin, “Since all of your siblings are gone, as well as all of mine, I thought, well, I thought we might,” she fumbles, then holds up her pillow and blanket. Fitz figures out what she means and nods.
“I’ve just got to change into my pajamas. You can get comfortable, if you want,” he says, grabbing his pajamas from the bag under his bed and retreating to one of the small back rooms to change. When he comes back out, Jemma is curled up underneath his blanket and hers, already half asleep. He crawls in next to her, closing his eyes and dimming the fire at the end of the room with a long breath out as she wiggles closer to him.
“Good night, Fitz.”
“Night, Jem.”