𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐑𝐇𝐈𝐂 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧

ii. merry christmas, please don't call

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

COMPARED TO THE EVENTS OF THE PRIOR SUMMER, the next couple of months felt wildly tame.

September went by in golden evenings and brisk breezes, bringing on the chill of Long Island autumn. Camp had cleaned up after the battle, moving forward as usual, yet the heavy fog of grief still clung to the shoulders of all those who had lost someone, which was unfortunately the majority.

Elia fell into a sort of rhythm, slowly figuring out how to manage her cabin as the sole counselor and manage her grief at the same time. Will convinced her to let him take more shifts in the infirmary and train a few more of their siblings, Michael took over the masters archery classes, and Elia, who had been teaching sword-fighting classes since Luke's betrayal four years ago, continued to do so while keeping all her siblings in check, along with welcoming new campers in. Lee usually did that, with his sunlight smile and reassuring words, but Lee was gone and new campers wouldn't stop coming because of it.

So Elia adapted; she pulled on that grin she'd learned from him and acted like there wasn't a ticking time bomb in her chest, counting down toward the inevitable loss she could feel approaching, loss she would not— could not let happen. She pretended she wasn't waking up in a cold sweat every night, glancing frantically around the cabin just to make sure that every single one of them was still there, still breathing. She acted like she wasn't turning the surface of her heart into a collage of them, of each of their laughs and their smiles and their freckles and scars and talents, keeping bits and pieces of them plastered to her organs until they became a part of her.

In the span of September to December, the Apollo cabin gained three new siblings; a thirteen-year-old whirlwind named Gabe, a fifteen-year-old firecracker of a girl called Nina, and Jack, a twelve-year-old with sad eyes and an affinity for the flute.

Gabe ended up being a great shot with anything from arrows to a shotgun, which Michael certainly should not have given him. Nina fit in well with the healers, all commanding words and gentle hands and an affinity for quick work. Jack became Elia's shadow within the very day of his arrival, following her around with shy eyes and quiet, witty comments that had the older girl bursting into laughter at the worst times.

Elia pretended not to notice when he shrank away from Mr. D, or when he jumped as Austin slammed the door carelessly. Instead, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, quiet and steady as a stream of sunlight on an autumn afternoon. The twelve-year-old would calm, slightly, and look at her like she hung the stars in the sky. She wasn't sure how to feel about that look, but she loved him all the same.

Time seemed to pass slowly, creeping by, then suddenly it was December and the camp was dusted in snow and Elia had a bag packed for the first time in eleven years as she stood in her cabin. Michael was nodding as the blonde girl finished up her lecture for the third time, reminding him of every single thing he'd have to take care of as interim counselor.

"And please, Michael, for the love of the gods, don't forget to feed Fletcher," Elia pointed to the dog bowl in a corner of the cabin, right next to the golden retriever's bed. Bowie, Blair, and Marisol's favorite chore was to take care of Fletcher, so if Elia should have been worried about anything, it was the puppy getting fed too much.

But, Elia hadn't ever left camp for a holiday, so she was anxious. She thought it was a valid enough concern; this was her home, her family. What if things went wrong while she was gone?

Michael let out a sigh, waving his sister off. "Elle, it's gonna be fine. We'll all be alright," he assured her, fond exasperation soaking the words. "You just need to have fun. For real."