bravejemma | IC Inbox

( peter had nearly thrown his network device into the lake after he'd sent the text, but he's grateful he didn't. he wouldn't want to leave jemma hanging after he's already made it worse when things were so damn shitty as is. )

i was trying to help. talk him through everything. he said a lot of terrible shit about himself and that his father was right.

then i called his asshole dad a fucking asshole. and he got pissed and left.

[She reads the reply, and actually sighs deeply when she reads it. If there is a center that Fitz protects, it is the hurt and damage left behind by Alistair Fitz. And when that center gets hit, it's devastating.]

Oh Peter, you didn't.

like i said i screwed up

just take care of him. and yourself. ( it was only a couple months ago if that since she died, and then all this with the mirrors and he saw her fiercely protecting fitz on the network. and. )

Stay where you are, I'll come find you.

[After all, Fitz isn't going to answer his phone, not for a while, anyway, and Peter doesn't seem like he should be left to himself just now, either.

Jemma hasn't been down to the lake either, though it's quite stunning in the plasticine sort of way that Wondereland was -- just a little too perfect, as though someone was building a diorama for a school project. Peter's easy to find on the shore, legs splayed out in front of him and shoulders sloped downward in a defeated posture. Sometimes she forgets Peter's a teenager, but he looks very young just now.

She seats herself beside him, close enough to be friendly but not over familiar. She's silent for a moment, not really sure where to start. It seems like if it's not one thing, it's another.]

I don't mean to not honor your request, but trust me. Fitz needs space. He'll be okay for now.

Okay.

( peter rubs at his face. his shoulders tense, and he trusts her to know far better than he would about what to do to help fitz. it's been a long two months- it's been a long start of the year for all of them. seeing jemma torn up and dead, trying to reach through to fitz. and dying and being fictional in other people's worlds and trying to help but not knowing how and watching fitz drown in guilt and being more spider-man than peter and elena dying and a conversation with a mirror that feels highly appropriate right now. )

I'm sorry. I know things have been hard enough lately.

It's not your fault. You were calling a spade a spade -- and Fitz's father is definitely a spade.

[Peter's word is a little closer to the truth, but why waste a good metaphor.]

Yeah. He is, but Fitz was already upset so I shouldn't have even vaguely brought it up. I was trying to help him with everything else, and he said his father was right about all the terrible shit he'd said about him.

And I couldn't agree with him. I couldn't say nothing either. ( he wasn't able to shelve it as well as he's learned to shelve every last bit of his emotions since the night the explosion of his own emotions led to his uncle dying. he feels sick again. stamped out. and sick. he presses his hands to his face. )

You thought you were doing the right thing and wanted to make him feel better. It'll blow over in good time.

[She puts a hand to Peter's back, and rubs gently.]

Yeah.

( Peter says into his hands and then slides them down his face. )

I- uh. I know it must be hard, but you do a really good job of- of taking care of people, taking care of Fitz and that's really important. So I just wanted you to know- uh. Thanks. For doing that.

Yeah.

[She answers him in kind, with a bit of a sigh. She'd sort of always been that way -- why, she wasn't so clear on.]

It's easy to take care of people you love, Peter. People who care about the ones who have hurt them, or do so with no hope of any gratitude or recognition or reciprocation... that's the hard thing. The brave thing.

[It's something he and Fitz have in common, she thinks.]

I think they can both be hard in different ways. I've seen you be plenty brave.

( Peter thinks going head to head with any asshole on the network is pretty damn brave along with everything else she does. He clears his throat and pushes himself up to his feet shakily, breathing in, forcing himself to find footing again except it's not very effective at all. Mostly it feels like these invisible walls are trying to crowd him, and he needs to hide. Or find somewhere else to be sick, because he doesn't know what to do with half the things crowding around in his head. )

I- I gotta go. Are you gonna be okay?

Peter--

[She jumps up to her feet as well.]

I'll be fine-- what about you?

Yeah.

( His voice cracks a little. He shakes his head and clears his throat, shifting from one foot to the next with that nervous balled up emotion at the center of his chest. )

I'll be fine. I'm just worried.

[Well, that's plain enough to see. Since he hadn't run away yet, she took that to mean it would be okay to step forward and put her arms around Peter, who desperately needed comfort of some kind.]

( Peter tenses at first when Jemma's arm goes around him. Part of him thinks about just running really fucking far, but the other part can't- doesn't. He lifts his arms slowly until they wrap around her, and his expression crumples against her hair where she can't see. When he speaks, his voice is low and tired. A hint of a joke within the tone, more than a hint of an acknowledgement of all she's had to go through lately. )

Rough couple of months, huh?

[She hums in response. Couple of months? It had been longer than that.]

You joined this program already in progress, I'm afraid.

( It'd been much longer than that. Bonnie leaving. Was that the start? There was Faith dying. There- There's been a lot. He pulls back when he can trust his expression to be calmer than he feels. )

Thanks, Jemma. ( He means that. She didn't have to come out here, and- ) Like I said, take care of him and you, okay?

( It's said quietly before he slips his hands into his pockets and heads in. to the mansion. to his room. )

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