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It’s a cold and windy fall this year. The clouds are driven above the grey sky. It looks like they are in a hurry. The trees are stripped of the remaining leaves which have clung to their branches for so long and now have to succumb to the crisp sharp breeze, spiralling to the ground slowly, kind of elegantly. What stays back, are tall almost bare skeleton-like silhouettes, throwing huge shadows.
In his little garden, Fitz is raking the fallen leaves for what feels like hours, forming a growing pile of red, orange and brown. He is glad to have work to do. Peggy is still in school and it’s one of these days on which Fitz feels Jemma’s absence as a sharp painful stinging in his chest. It’s one of these days, he wants to throw the comms and the laptop against the next wall. One of the days he just wants to be able to hold his wife in his arms.
Soon, they tell each other all the time. Soon. They both know the word soon can mean weeks or months or even years. They know it and still say it, bearing the bitter taste of it and smile it away.
Fitz takes a break, leaning onto the rake with a heavy sigh. He’s sweating slightly under his warm jumper. Oh Jemma, he asks himself once again, not able to prevent the thoughts from coming; where are you now? What are you doing? Are you in danger? Fitz often thinks, the worst about this situation is, that he isn’t able to protect Jemma at all. If she’s in danger, he has to blindly trust the people she’s with right now. And he does trust them. Of course he does. But it’s still difficult to stop the pictures appearing in front of his eyes. Jemma hurt, Jemma bleeding, Jemma … Fitz shakes his head and closes his eyes for a moment.
No.
She’s safe.
You have talked to her just yesterday.
It’s going to be fine. You knew what you were agreeing to.
It’s done.
She’s there.
You’re here.
And when the time’s right, you will be together again.
Yes. That’s what he has to believe. These are the thoughts he has to cling to, to not get mad.
Fitz opens his eyes again and that’s when he hears a cheerful scream. A colourful flash moves past him so quick he can’t make out clear contours. There’s a thud and then leaves are flying everywhere. Fitz realizes his daughter Peggy just jumped into the pile of leaves. The next second, only her head appears, leaves sticking to her long brown curls. Her eyes are sparkling.
“Peggy! I have just finished raking them!” Fitz calls, his eyes narrowing. He shakes his head. But he’s bad at pretending to be mad, he knows. His lips are twitching because he's already trying to suppress a smile.
Peggy laughs. “It’s so soft! I want to do winter hibernation in here! Like hedgehogs do!”
Fitz raises his brows. “What, the whole winter? When it’s freezing and snowing? You’re going to be an ice-hedgehog before you know.”
“Not when I eat enough until I go to sleep, then the fat stores will make my body work while I sleep,” Peggy explains, and her eyes lit up in excitement. “Ohhh, I really have to eat a lot of chocolate until I go to sleep, Dad!”
Fitz snorts. “Sure. Come out of there, monkey. You can help me raking the leaves again, since you destroyed my hard work.”
“Then chocolate?” Peggy asks hopeful, climbing out of the heap and shaking leaves off her shoulders.
“What about I’ll make us two hot chocolates with whipped cream and cinnamon?” Fitz suggests.
“Yay!” Peggy cheers and grabs the rake. She starts to rake the leaves together clumsily, her brows furrowed in concentration.
Fitz smiles and goes to fetch a second rake to help her.
They work in silence for a moment and Fitz asks himself, what he would do without her. When the pain of missing Jemma too much, at least Peggy is there to lighten up the darkness of the void inside his head, where all the bad thoughts and memories are lingering. He still hopes, sometime, soon will really mean soon.