The Third Year – Part A
Despite everything, Fitz was happy. On the way home from a very long day at the Khoji fields, he silently counted his blessings as he plodded along the trail with the others.
Jemma. She was here with him and they weren't separated by time or space or another nearly-insurmountable barrier. Never before had they had so much uninterrupted time together, waking up together and going to bed together every single night. They played with Rory together and read to him. They quietly ate breakfast and dinner next to each other, drinking weak tea, day after day. They never grew bored with each other; even living in the same setting, they always had things to talk about or speculate on. He knew that they could have been separated as they had been when she was sent to Maveth or when Fitz was left behind as the rest of the team went into the future, and that thought was horrific just to think about. The fact that he was with Jemma each day made up for every downside in his life currently, and he never took it for granted.
Rory. Their son – now 18 months old – was healthy and developing well. According to anything that they could ever recall having read about toddler development, Rory was progressing swimmingly. Mack was now comfortable talking about Hope and sharing openly with the parents what he remembered about child development; receiving confirmation from Mack that Rory was thriving provided another level of reassurance. Sitting with Jemma each morning to discuss Rory, planning what to teach him next and how to teach it, provided a new type of fulfillment for Fitz.
And Jemma was due again in a matter of weeks. The pregnancy might not have been planned, but both Fitz and Jemma still felt ecstatic. Once Rory had arrived, they had known that someday they would want to have a brother or sister for him.
Fitz still enjoyed the outdoors too. Perhaps the six months in the black ops prison would remain seared into his brain forever but Fitz was thankful for each breath of fresh air he took, each time he looked up and saw a golden sun, each time the sun hit the green leaves on a tree.
He also counted his extended family among his blessings. Although there were plenty of disagreements and Deke just worked Fitz's every nerve whenever he opened his mouth, the team was priceless. If someone needed something, someone else helped them. If Fitz and Jemma needed an hour or two alone, they could count on someone else to watch Rory. After Jemma of course, Fitz was closest with Mack, Hunter, and Daisy - and although everyone was constantly working, they still had so much time together to deepen their friendships. Sometimes it felt uncomfortable living among so many people who knew you like the back of their hands, but mostly it provided a sense of reassurance.
Everyone was healthy too. Fitz wanted to shake his head to think that a few short years ago, the team constantly had faced life-threatening injuries; various team members had nursed bullet-wounds and any other manner of injury, and that had just been the way they'd lived their lives. On the rare days when the team had time to swim together in the lake, one could glance around and see a lifetime's worth of scars on everyone's bodies. But the scars were, at least, faded and not accompanied by any recent ones.
In fact, other than Deke's constant complaining, as far as Fitz could tell, the team members were content. Everyone's personality was different just as everyone's reaction to their situation was different; some experienced more or less angst over the Khoji, some experienced resignation over the fact that they couldn't return to Earth, some were more chipper than others. But most seemed at least content.
Fitz also added the weather to his list. It never got too cold; at night a blanket and sometimes a second layer over your clothing were all you needed. On the flip side, sometimes it was too hot and sometimes a sticky humidity would set in. But it always broke sooner or later; a cool evening or crisp morning would arrive to relieve you from the heat, or a nice breeze would cool the sweat on your brow.
Another plus he had to add to his list: the challenges they faced here weren't life-threatening, and they certainly didn't face any "extinction-level events" anymore. No LMDs, no Kree, no Hydra. Fitz and the others would marvel at how long they had – during their other lives – just endured having their very existence and the fate of the world hanging by a thread day in and day out. They had lived with the knowledge that each day they woke up might be their last. Without that level of threat hanging over their heads now, they each felt much more stable and peaceful.
True, the Khoji's behavior had not improved at all, but Fitz was of the mindset that at their core they were more along the lines of spoiled children with too much power, rather than anything truly evil. And he certainly had seen his share of pure evil during his lifetime.
Of course, Fitz thought as he walked, there were plenty of downsides to life now. Jemma would have to give birth without a midwife. She'd given birth before without modern medicine and all had gone well, but now they were without medicine or midwife. And more alarmingly, they had failed twice to prevent pregnancy. As happy as they were with Rory and with the impending arrival, they absolutely would need to find a way to prevent future pregnancies. (Bobbi was pregnant again too now, which had prompted both couples to sigh and conclude only that, "this planet wants us pregnant".)
The Khoji continued to be unreasonable, Fitz and the others worked long days for too little food. They often had sore backs and tired feet. The team spent any spare time on foraging or trapping food; washing clothes; cleaning; skinning and gutting the animals they trapped; repairing tents; repairing worn clothing. They had no time to gather enough materials to build houses, and just once Fitz wished he could eat until his stomach felt like bursting, or least until it was completely full. But still they had food and it was enough to keep them going and keep them healthy.
He missed his lab, he missed his life's work. Of course he and Jemma would shrug and say that this planet was their lab, and raising Rory their new life's work. Thinking through the best way to raise Rory and what to show him next put both of their brains to good use. Truly any time Fitz missed the lab, he knew he would never trade it for all this time with Jemma and Rory. Not for a million years.
And yes, he did miss things like watching football and drinking an ice-cold pint. But almost any situation was tolerable if Jemma was by his side. That evening, the work group continued to plod towards their home camp where the aroma of dinner awaited them, and there was Jemma - by his side once again.
The agents did their best to keep tabs on the Khoji. Despite long, tedious days working in their fields with little contact with any of the Khoji, this elite team of spies had their methods. Gradually, they had been coming to the realization that "something was up." Each evening the team calibrated around the fire.
"The clues all add up," Coulson said, summarizing what he and the others had been finding out over the past few weeks. He was especially glad that they had devoted the time, early on, to learning their language. "They keep talking about their enemies to the west, they hardly talk about – or to – us, they're stockpiling weapons."
The Khoji had mentioned having enemies shortly after Bobbi and Hunter – and then the rest of the team – had arrived. None of the agents had ever seen these enemies, as they had been told that their lands were "far to the west". The agents had gathered that their largest enemy group was called the Babla, and that the Khoji had been at peace with them for more than a decade.
"Something definitely has changed between the Khoji and the Babla," Bobbi concluded. "I'm not sure what, but they keep talking about war."
"None of us have ever actually seen…the Babla though," Daisy added.
"That's right," Coulson confirmed. "But some of the items the Khoji used to trade with us, we think they get from trading with them. Apparently they live near the sea, so any of the shells, dried fish, or seaweed we used to get were probably from the Babla."
"Do we have any idea what the – the possible battle might be over?" Piper asked.
"All we can guess is land disputes," Coulson answered. "Seems the two groups have fought about land for as long as anyone can remember."
"Do we have an opportunity then?" Fitz began. "If the Khoji are going to be in a fight, maybe we can offer our help."
"I think it's worth a try," Mack said.
Bobbi tilted her head. "Just bear in mind, that we only have 12 adults. And only six men. When Hunter and I first arrived, it – well – it was clear that they thought the idea of a woman having a weapon and using it was rather odd." She paused, "We can offer our help, but I can hear them already snorting and saying that six men aren't going to make a difference in any battle."
"But we know strategy," Fitz insisted. "We have some very experienced tacticians. That might be the best way we can help them."
"The Khoji never listen to anything we have to say nowadays," Coulson remarked. "And I can just hear them saying that we don't know their terrain like they do. But it couldn't hurt. Let's offer to help them."
Jemma added, "And remember – we think they only have about 75-100 adult men. If our estimate is right, I would actually say that six more is….not insignificant." She placed a hand on her belly. The last thing she wanted was for Fitz to go off into battle, and the thought made her queasy. But his point about offering tactical advice was spot on, she knew.
"And one other thing," Mack added. "We need to tell them that we want five people to stay behind here each day, not four. If there are enemies out there, we need to patrol our campsite."
People empathically nodded. The Babla might live "far to the west" but if they were preparing to attack the Khoji, the team needed to protect themselves too.
That night, Jemma hardly slept. She knew the final few weeks of pregnancy meant restless nights anyway; her body was preparing itself for late night feedings and a crying infant. Their bed was comfortable but at some point, it didn't make a difference any longer. Especially not with the impending arrival gleefully kicking away.
Jemma shifted position and sensed that Fitz was awake. "Sorry," she whispered. "I'm probably keeping you up."
"It's not you," Fitz whispered back. They had to keep their voices down so as to not wake Rory. They had discussed with Bobbi and Hunter that when the boys were a bit older, perhaps they'd construct a small tent for them in between the couples' tents – just to give the kids their "own room", not to mention the parents some privacy.
"Suppose I don't need to say the obvious," Fitz whispered. "I've grown to like not spending every moment fearing for our lives and fighting some battle."
"Me too," Jemma whispered.
"Plus you're pregnant, we have Rory to take care of, and without a gun I'm fairly useless in a fight." He paused, "Okay, I know you're about to say that I'm not useless in a fight, but let's just agree that I'm not great at it either. And neither of us has trained in years."
"War would be a disaster no matter how we look at it," she added. "Unless we can somehow convince the Khoji to let us strategize with them. Your idea was the best one." She sighed. "I just worry that it might be as Coulson said – the Khoji never listen to anything we have to say anymore, so they might not care for our thoughts on battle tactics."
She shifted position again, returning to lying on her side, spooned against Fitz. "Just as you said, I've grown to like…this kind of life here. Not tensing up for a fight or nursing an injury or constantly worrying about you getting hurt. Now I just feel queasy thinking about how this might play out," she added. "It was different when we didn't have Rory."
"I know." He kissed the back of her neck.
"If a war is coming, I'm not sure what we would do with the boys," Jemma speculated. "Do we hide them somewhere? In the forest? Or do we all flee as a group? We just don't have the numbers compared to either tribe."
They were both quiet for several moments. Then Fitz spoke, "Well, what can we do? We need to take it one day at a time. Maybe the Khoji are wrong and a battle or a war isn't about to happen. Maybe it will happen and will be quick and far away from us. And we do have the best tacticians with us – we will figure out what to do. You and I might not be military strategists but we are good at finding solutions to problems. We will figure out what to do with the boys, if we have to hide. We're bordered by an immense forest. We'll find somewhere to hide if it comes to that." He paused. "The last few years have been easy compared to what we went through before, but we've proven over and over again that we can handle whatever the universe throws at us."
Jemma exhaled. "You're right. I feel a little more calm now." She turned her head around to kiss him. "Thank you."
TO BE CONTINUED
