Metal Bird and a Letter

[Deleted]

It was silent without him there. The forge usually had the sound of projects going on and the occasional voice would sound. Now, it was quiet. Even at this late hour there was usually someone working, Edmund Simmons, but now he wasn’t. This was the perfect time to come, he would be at the infirmary for awhile, or so she was told. It was easier this way. That way she didn’t have to see his emotionless face. It would hurt her, not that she was looking for an emotion out of him, she knew better, no, just seeing his face would hurt and the possible rejection of him taking the bundle in her arms.

This was the second time Felicity Weingarten had entered the forge with MB in her arms. This time though nothing was wrong. The metal felt colder in her hands this time, or maybe it was just her imagination. As said before, nothing was wrong, yet the metal bird was motionless. When Felicity first obtained MB she was told of a switch to turn him off, this was the one time she had taken advantage of it. She knew that if she took MB while it was still active it wouldn’t allow itself to be left. That was what Felicity was doing, she was abandoning it. She had a mission and she couldn’t afford to take it with her. She loved the bird, anyone who knew her knows that.

She glanced around the forge looking for the familiar workbench she would spend time talking to the creator of the automaton in her arms. It was abandoned at the moment due to its owner being in the infirmary. She sat at the bench and placed the bundle on top of the bench. Countless days of sitting here and working on different contraception’s. What went through his head? Did he ever think his life would end up this way? Who would want this life? Felicity sat there and wondered what must go through his mind. The ticking of a clock nearby wouldn’t allow her to concentrate. It was two in the morning, and she was leaving camp. Was this really the right path for her to take? She was objective of the Gods, but should she really raise the Titan who ate his own children? Would he really be able to make a better life for demigods and bring about a second Golden Age of man? Only time would tell. At least she had a backup plan in case something didn’t work out right. It would mean her death, but she had already talked it out and she desperately hoped that that Robocop would be able to recognize when this plot got too far out of hand and that he would stop her. If not she may regret everything.

Felicity looked around for a paper and pencil. She would have to leave an explanation as to why MB was awaiting Ed. She sat up from the bench and walked around a bit distracted by all the inventions littered around. Finally she spotted a pencil and a notebook. Felicity tore out a piece of paper and went back over to Edmund workbench. She thumped the pencil on the table a few times trying to figure out what to say or if she should even do this. No, he needed an explanation, that much she had to do for him. She placed the pencil tip on the paper and began to write in the neatest handwriting she could manage in hopes it would be better for him to read.

My friend Edmund,

I know that you don’t think of me as your friend but I think of you as mine. I hope you are healthy now since you have left the infirmary. This has probably been sitting at your workbench for a few days now. I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait until you got out. As I’m sure you have already noticed. That bundle is Metal Bird. No, nothing is wrong with the automaton. In fact, it’s in perfect working condition! However, due to personal reasons I need to let it go. I know of its strong attachment to me so I have a request for you. Please delete its memory of me. If that means deleting its whole memory than do it. I don’t want MB to know who Felicity Weingarten is.

No, I have not gone crazy and yes I am serious about this. I’ve left camp Ed. You won’t see me for awhile. I don’t know if you are probably dancing with glee because you don’t have to worry about me bothering you anymore, but this is the last you will hear of me for awhile. I might be doing something I may come to regret someday but right now I am determined. Who knows, you might be supportive of this. I’m going against everything the legion has taught us. If you can’t guess, I’m turning against the Gods. I am just tired of the way they feel they must have our respect without earning it. I’m working with someone, so I’m not alone. In fact, he’s my grandfather, not on the mortal side. He speaks of a next Golden Age and a time when demigods don’t have to worry about the Gods anymore. Maybe he is lying but at the moment but I am determined to help him. I know you may not understand, and I’m sorry about that.

At the moment I am somewhere, where I do not know. I need to find the pieces of the one who fathered the Olympians. I try to be discreet incase any nosy people read this letter. I just hope you are smart enough to realize and perhaps try to keep it a secret. Don’t let the Felicity of the past be shamed by the Felicity of the present. What I have done is my choice, but what I have done for camp has always been for the good of the demigods there. I hope you realize that.

Before I finish this Ed I want to let you know something. You were a great friend. I hope that maybe I can see you again. If that means on the battlefield or not I do now know. You really are a great inventor and you even have a fan! I love everything you make, you could really go far with that skill. Also, don’t let the Gods bully you so much, if they do bully you it won’t be for long, I’ll make sure of it. Nothing will happen to you or anything upon which you care about Ed. I promise. You may not have confidence in me or believe me but I’ll make everything right. Maybe one day you can smile again. Granted, I don’t know what happened before the legion but that is in the past. I am sure your family is proud of you, whether they are alive or not. You are not a simple son of Vulcan, Ed you are so much more. Out of everyone at the legion you were the person I cared the most about. Take care of yourself Ed and I’m sorry about dumping MB on you. I’m just in a hurry. I have to leave the camp tonight. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop Remus from hurting you. I’m sorry I didn’t come and see you in the infirmary. I hope you are better now. Ed, I love you, in a sibling sort of sense I guess. Please take care of yourself.

-Felicity

Felicity set the pencil down and wiped away a couple of stray tears from her face. She glanced at the Metal Bird wrapped in the blanket. ”Metal Bird, I know you are off. But, take care of him okay. I know he doesn’t let most people close to him. But that’s something good about you, your not a person. You probably wont remember, or hear this conversation. I’m sorry I’m doing this to you. I’m sorry I turned you off, your probably crying inside. I just couldn’t do this with you crying ‘Mommy!’ out to me. I’m sorry.” Felicity said as she stood up from the bench and headed towards the forge door. She looked back it and remembered all the times she had watched Ed invent and work on stuff and how often she had figured she was being a bother, she smirked. At least he wasn’t going to have to deal with her anymore, at least someone was valuing from her leaving right now. Still, she couldn’t leave without telling him goodbye, out of all the people who will wake up tomorrow and wonder where Felicity was, Felicity couldn’t tell anyone but that forge monkey. She had even lied to Remus when asking for permission to leave. The only person who knew the true reason about her departure was Edmund Simons. She turned and walked out the forge, closing the door behind her. Saturn had been waiting long enough for his body, probably centuries. Felicity wasn’t going to let the person who had her loyalty at the moment wait any longer.

[Deleted]

The only sound echoing around the forge when Edmund Simons entered was the crackling of multiple fires. As his dark brown eyes were attracted to the light, a paralyzing fear washed over him. He had tried coming back into the forge right after he had been let out of the infirmary. That first time in two weeks hadn’t gone so well. He had gone right into a hyperventilation, followed by a PTSD episode but now he was back. Ready to try again. Edmund inhaled sharply, grimacing at the slight memory that started in front of him. After becoming thirteen, he had worked so hard for the first few months and even years (meaning up to the present) afterwards to over come his aversion to fire; all that work for nothing: the fear returned, as sharp as ever. Now that he thought about it, had it ever left? The seventeen year old was forced back to square one: staring at the fire and commanding himself to stand his ground and stay put; to not turn around and run out again. Seriously, he had only been away for two weeks! Why was he reacting so horribly again? Why had all his work gotten grounded to nothing?! Then again, that was what his work was always reduced to… this was no different. It was shameful: him running out of the forge. What the hell was wrong with him?

After a few moments of just staring and trying to convince himself that the flames were contained and not going to burn down the forge (or him), Edmund took a few steps forward. It was so frustrating. He knew he had near to no problem being around here two weeks or so ago! Why was it so hard now? His leg twitched and his lungs suddenly felt like they weren’t getting enough air. His body wanted to run, but Edmund forced his feet to stay still. No. Edmund couldn’t and wouldn’t run again. He’d go farther than the door frame or hyperventilate trying. Finally, he forced himself to walk straight up to the main fire and just watch it. He forced himself to breathe slowly. Forced himself to stay there. Nothing happened. It didn’t leap out to consume him. It didn’t shoot up to burn the ceiling. It just stayed there, contently crackling. Edmund exhaled, his old self starting to return. He mentally started to hit himself. You’re being stupid. You’re being an idiot. You’re a Roman solider for gods sakes! You’re fine. It’s not going to hurt you while it’s in there and you’re out here. Edmund turned away from the inferno and let habit take over his legs as he walked over to his work bench.

Once he was there, he was able to semi relax, even after his fire freak out just a moment before. He was able to relax a fraction of a centimeter because this desk was the closest thing he had to a home. It had remained there, untouched. This desk was his. Maybe he’d take up Weingarten’s suggestion seriously and make it a convertible bed. He exhaled, trying to block out the fact that there was a fire a few feet next to him. Things were going to go back to normal soon enough. He’d get over of two weeks of his infirmary trigger house plus Kyoto (who just made it all the worse). He’d get better while he was in here, as long as he kept his head. Alone at last: no more Kyoto, no more needles, no more sedatives, no more straps, no more force feeding and no more trigger house (which was the infirmary as a whole, but could easily become the forge if he didn’t conquer his old fear quick enough). He exhaled slightly, his eyes leaving his workbench and going to survey the forge as a whole. Someone had taken over his nightly cleanings. Probably Tessa and/or Jaycee. Now that he was back though, he could do it himself again.

He’d have learn how to do a one arm clean up, but he’d survive. He’d do it for the forge and armory as well as for training. Back to work, even with one arm down. He could do it. He’d have to get used to it, but whatever. Life was just one big event of getting used to things. The arm was stuck in a cast for a month. Nothing he could do about that unless he wanted a useless arm. Then again, Edmund hadn’t listened to the doctor’s regimen concerning his legs and they had turned out just fine! Arguably, they had been 3rd-4th degree burned, not broken. They’d just hurt (a lot) and scar (rather horribly). Ignoring a broken bone could twist it and render it useless (not that Edmund already wasn’t useless, but still). He supposed he needed his arm more than his legs though: he’d keep the cast, even though he despised it. Despised it with a passion. Yes, fine, he’d keep the cast… but he’d still carry on as normal. That meant forging as well as fighting. He'd probably have to schedule extra training time with Jolly to work on single handed combat. He would, quite literally, have to fight single handedly: his hand tied (or in this case casted) infront of him. Besides, Jolly probably wasn't going to stop just because he fractured an arm. Always fight through the pain or injury.

He looked over his shoulder, at the shelves behind him. He supposed Weingarten and Warlow hadn’t gotten the memo: their animal armors had been finished the morning he had gone to burn his file. Then again, he doubted that they would have come into the forge to check. His eyes flickered over his work desk. Jadis and Cinny had probably protected it in his absence from people like Issac. Just to make sure though, Edmund started running down his bench. Jolly’s tool set, his wood carving tools, the first aid from Yates, and the book from Weingarten were all in his draw. He scanned the top of the desk: the semi-fixed Metal Bird was gone. Darn those Mercury kids! Before he could fully dive into a “jump down people’s throat” mood, he noticed that even though Metal Bird was gone, there was something added on to his desk. In almost dead center, sat a little bundle in a blanket, along with a folded piece of paper, and a pencil. All of the sudden, Edmund was experiencing another demigod trademark: déjàvu. He could see Weingarten running in, frantic because someone had poured acid over… Edmund eyed the parcel warily: he could be wrong. Then again, if he was right, it would be odd, unless it had been broken again (in which case he would go on a “kill certain people” mode since Edmund simply wasn’t in the mood for this).

It could be a bomb or something dangerous from someone who wanted him gone. Nevertheless, he had to open it: dangerous or not. He went to take the bundle, only to remember that he couldn’t move his left arm. A hiss of frustration left Edmund’s mouth as he was forced to leave the small blanket on the table. He looked at it for a moment, analyzing how to approach this “I can only open this one handedly” situation before he cautiously/semi awkwardly unwrapped it with his good arm. His first hunch had been right. Inside was a seemingly perfect Metal Bird. But… why was it on his desk like this? He had been in the middle of trying to fix it up to its original personality. He sure as heck knew that he didn’t leave it wrapped in a blanket, in perfect condition like this. When he had left it, it had been out in the open, wires and chips hanging all over the place with a temporary metal frame. In his slight confusion, he noticed that its beak was twisted 180. It was off. No wonder it hadn’t been screeching and protesting while in the blanket. He thought it rather odd: the only people who knew it the off switch were himself and Weingarten… and it seemed rather uncharacteristic of her to turn Metal Bird off.

That was when his eyes were drawn to the note. Then again, this may not have been from Weingarten either. Edmund gritted his teeth slightly, half rolling his eyes. This “could be from Weingarten or could be from someone who wants to murder me/a perfectly well working Metal Bird is on my desk when it’s still supposed to be in repair” scenario was just frustrating him too much, so he just unfolded the letter. It could be an explanation. If it poisoned him with plague or turned him into an animal (like the Valentine’s Day card had), he’d just have to live with it. Then he stood there like a statue. Reading… (once he glanced over at Metal Bird) and reading… and reading. The handwriting was neat enough, but his eyes kept readjusting: the letters would swirl around and disappear. It was irritating. At a few points in the letter, he even had to blink, loosing his place and having to read something over again. As his eyes tracked further down the page, he felt his face getting paler, although he wasn’t exactly sure why. Nothing was sinking in with him. All that he was able to gather was that it was an explanatory letter. After finishing it, he blinked, looked at Metal Bird and then looked back at the letter again, trying to make sense of it all. That first time didn’t even feel real. Nothing whatsoever had sunk in.

Edmund walked around his desk, sat, and started scanning it a second time. That was when the content of the message finally got through to his brain. No! She was such an idiot! Darn it all. Was she mad?! Edmund didn’t even read the last paragraph again. He didn’t want to. He couldn’t. This wasn’t happening. Surely, she wasn’t serious… This was just some stupid Mercury kid prank. He was going to kill that Issac kid. Edmund turned to Metal Bird and telepathically woke him up. It chirped and then sat up, looking as if it was confused to be woken up in the forge. “Mommy!” it started calling out of its internal speakers, hopping around the table. Edmund inwardly grimaced and mentally started to puppet his metal creation: he made it rewind, searching Felicity’s voice and the keywords of “gods, leave, and camp”.

Upon being given a command, Metal Bird fell silent, running through his memory. After a few moments, Felicity’s voice came out of the internal speakers:

“What are you doing MB? Oh, it’s him.”
Hiss. Tweet.
“Now, that’s some interesting greeting.”
“What did you expect? A hug and an "I love you daddy, you're the best?" Because, that is not happening.”
“I wasn't expecting anything really. I was just not used to the whole oh it is him comment.”
“It's because you're a God and just expect everyone to kiss your feet right?”
Click. Click.
“Actually no. They will kiss them if they want but also don't want them to purposely piss me off. I can somewhat control where they go in my underworld.”
“So you make their actions towards you dictate where they go when they die? Thats biased and wrong.”
“It is my underworld and I control it. I am not letting the dead decide where they go.”
“Shouldn't the way they have lived their lives decide it?”
“That is a portion of it yes.”

A shadow of a smirk flickered across Ed's face.

“I’m so going to hell,” Metal Bird cackled as Edmund inwardly thought it himself.

“No, I don't think so. And father, shouldn't that be the entire deciding factor?”

Oh, I think so, Edmund thought. What the heck was wrong with him?! He was disagreeing with a recording for goodness sakes!

“It is large portion. But I still take into account if they annoyed me or not.”

Definitely going to Tartarus.

“That's wrong of you to do.”
“Clearly do not know me. I don't let things go easily.”
“You don't say. How am I suppose to know someone I just me, just because I am half of you doesn't mean I know you.”

Metal Bird gave a buzz. End of recording. Well that hadn’t gotten him anywhere… He needed proof. If this didn’t work, he was storming around the Legion next. He shot out his next telepathic orders to Metal Bird: Rewind. Same parameters. Metal Bird was silent again before the internal speakers picked up some of the words:

“Would you be okay staying with someone else if I had to leave for a while?”
“Mommy!”
“Is that a no then?”
“L-ong?”
“I don't know.”
“Mommy.…”
“Relax, I was just wondering. I said if. That means it might not happen.”
“Ok-a-kaya!”
“Besides, I couldn't ever go long without you. I care about you too much.”
“I love you!”

The buzzing noise started again and Edmund was just left staring at the automation, his face pale and his mind turning numb. Not again. It did happened. Felicity was gone…. “Mommy! Mommy!” Metal Bird. Felicity had asked him to mind wipe the thing. All Ed had to do was look at it, give the command, and boom the, the memory card would be wiped, but all he could do was stand there, staring straight through his desk. Why? He shouldn’t have even been asking that. This was all his fault… again. He wasn’t there to stop her. He didn’t do anything. He couldn't do anything. Useless... arm or no arm.“Mommy! Mommy!” No Weingarten… “MOMMY!” No MB.

Edmund didn’t even remember doing it or even remember his rationale on why he did it, but moments later, he was watching Metal Bird burn in the closest forge fire. His good hand semi curled into a fist as he watched the fire eat away at the shell and then started to burn the wires and chips. They were still in working order until the fire rendered them useless. Even after they were all burnt, Metal Bird’s final shrieking of “Mommy!” was eerily ingrained into his mind. It sounded familiar too: a heart wrenching wail of abandonment that sounded like someone had put the automation into an echoing tunnel...

“But Mommy is…”
“She’s gone! Edmund! Why don’t you get it?!”
Cringe.
“But…" So small. So hopeful.
"NO! No buts-”

“She’s… she’s gone…” Edmund finished for Em, speaking for the first time in two weeks; the usual, emotionless edge of his voice was gone. Zapped like all his energy had been in the infirmary; when he was trying to not panic attack or go PTSD episodical (which hadn't even worked 75% of the time). He was still staring through the fire as if not seeing it, his voice cracked and dry from the lack of use. “She’s gone… and she’s not coming back.”