Chapter Text
I’m not sure how long I’m out for, but it feels like a short nap. When I do wake up, though, my head is pounding. At first, I can’t quite open my eyes, but after a second of quiet groaning and eye rubbing, I sit up.
It’s dark, save some lights outside the door - and I don’t recognise where I am. The smell of salt hangs in the air which makes my nose wrinkle, and then the memories come flooding back. Alma being kidnapped, the children having to leave their home for good, Blackpool…
Did I save Alma? Was it all just a morbid, highly detailed dream? Am I even alive right now? There’s a small window on the wall next to the mattress I’m lying on, which is damp and springy and poking into my arse. Sitting up, I take a look out the window at the vast expanse of sea. That’s right, we’re on the Augusta. I look around and discover that I am in fact alone, so I get off of the mattress and brush myself off. I don’t bother with the beauty spells, what’s the point? Everyone else is surely at their worst right now, so what exactly is the point in trying to make myself look presentable?
With a painful stretch, I make my way to the door, which is slightly ajar. The hallway is dank and dripping, but I can see that Emma did a really good job emptying the boat of its water entirely. With an awkward moment of not knowing what to do, I eventually hear voices and decide to follow them to a kind of main sitting area. The children are gathered around a table, talking amongst themselves. Skeletons are draped along the floor, almost like they’d been unceremoniously shoved off.
Alma is there, at the head of the table, Claire perched in her lap. No one seems to notice me, so I make myself known and strut right into the room, humming a tune off of the top of my head. The children grow quiet and turn to stare, and, once they’ve realised it’s me, they leap from their seats and begin shouting and running over to give me hugs.
“Hugh told me you were dead!” Claire cries out, sobbing as I bend to pick her up.
“Hugh! You did no such thing!” I chastise, and Hugh is flushing and shrugging.
“I was only joking…” the rest of the children take their turns to hug me, and once Emma gets to me, she squeezes me so tight I’m almost sure my arms will pop out of my sockets. Olive then embraces me, her body warm and dulling the chill in my bones.
“We’re so glad you’re awake! You’ve been asleep for hours, ” Bronwyn says, latching onto a leg.
“Well I don’t know. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t stay away from my favourite children,” smiles all around, I spot Jake at the table still, and he gives an embarrassed little wave. I open my arms and wiggle my brows, and with a short laugh, he gets up and comes over. Hugging Jake is like hugging a tree with limbs, awkward and askew. Pulling away, I furrow my brows. “Your… hair?” He grasps the strands of his now almost shoulder-length hair and smiles.
“It’s a long story. We’re glad you’re OK,” he says, patting my shoulder. Even Enoch comes to give me a short, stiff embrace, but I can feel the emotion behind it, so I tenderly pat his back.
“I was really worried,” he murmurs quiet enough for no one but me to hear, and I smile warmly, giving him a short nod to save him from saying anything else that will ruin his reputation. Next is Alma, who is already standing and waiting. I go to her instead, and nestle myself right into her arms, holding on tight. She sways us from side to side and I breathe in her perfume, her hand against the back of my head, cuddling me to her chest.
“Are you alright?” She asks, and I look up at her face. She looks tired.
“Now, I am.”
~~~
After this, we sit at the table together and discuss the plan from here.
“I know of an Ymbryne in a recent loop, Miss Robin. I’m sure she’ll accommodate us for a while and help those in need of medical attention - though I must warn you, she has children of her own, so I insist that you act accordingly and be on your best behaviour. That means no antagonising, no talking back, no walking around naked,” she looks right at Millard’s floating hat, “and absolutely no breaking her rules. I’m sure that she’s set rules that are a lot different from ours.” The children are nodding in unison.
“There are more Ymbrynes?” I ask, and Miss Peregrine turns to look at me. With a hard, determined stare, she responds,
“There are many more. Secluded in loops hidden around the globe. There are some Ymbrynes I don’t even know of, nor have I ever met. Miss Robin is as strict as they come - and now that we’re beginning to see a shortage in caregivers and more peculiars being born into families who won’t accept their differences, she has an Ymbryne in training there, who isn’t actually a real Ymbryne.”
“How is that possible?”
“I’m not sure. But I’m certain that there’s no need to question it, and Miss Robin certainly won’t want you to question it.”
“How many children are there?”
“It’s a big home, and I’m not quite sure of the exact amount, however I know there are more children than all of us combined. I have taught you not to judge based on looks, so I expect to see absolutely no teasing. That is, if she accepts us,” I reach over and hold her hand where it lies upon the table.
“If she’s as lovely and accommodating as you, then I’m sure she’ll let us stay for a while. So that means everyone should be polite and on their best behaviour. Even me,” I roll my eyes playfully, and the children laugh. “I’m quite renowned for making messes wherever I go.”
The conversation ends there, and Alma shoos everyone off to do who knows what. What even is there to do around here besides steer the ship, which is what Enoch, Jake and Emma are busy doing. I could go keep them company and… definitely not ask them questions about what exactly happened, but Alma is already dragging me away by the hand. She leads me into a room and once the door is closed, she backs me against it.
“Hello,” she says quietly, like she’s afraid I’ll run away if she’s too sudden.
“Hi,” I say back, and she smiles. It’s small and cute, so I smile back. She takes off my glasses and sets them aside somewhere unseen before she cups my face between her hands and brushes our noses, then our foreheads together. It’s a gentle, loving gesture.
“If I wasn’t so grateful for you saving my life and looking after my children, I’d be so angry with you for risking your life like you did,” I chuckle and she leans in, giving me one, little kiss, testing the waters.
“I’m just glad you’re OK,” I say, and don’t let her say anything else as I lean in and kiss her deeply, her body melting into mine. We pull away after a few seconds, and she says,
“I needed to tell you something.”
“Oh? What’s that?” She tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
“I love you, too,” I flush and she laughs at my reaction, kissing me again.
“You do?”
“Yes, how could I not?”
“I need to give you something. But it’s in my coat pocket,” she tilts her head, but follows me out of the room. I have no idea where I’m going, so she takes me to the room I woke up in, where my coat is hanging on the door. I close the door and after rummaging through my pockets for a second, I find it. I look at her face as I cradle the little box in my hands. She looks tired, so tired. I look back down at the box.
It’s not time.
I can feel in my gut that now is too soon. I’m not ready yet, and neither is she. With a small sigh, I smile down at the box and put it back in my pocket.
“Never mind. It’s not time yet. Have this, instead,” I walk into her body and open her arms, wrapping them around me. She seems startled, but also childishly amused.
“Are you quite alright?” I nod, and snuggle further into her. This... this is nice. This is all I’ve ever wanted and I’m content to have this for now, while it lasts. Proposing is for another time. “There’s actually something else I need to say. I need to ask you something.” I pull back, and she kisses my forehead, smoothing down my hair.
“Yeah?” Alma smiles at me for the longest time, and then proceeds to get down on one- “No! Are you serious?” She immediately stands back up, flushing.
“W- I-I… I just thought-“
“No, it’s not- I don’t want you to think I don’t want to marry you I just- I was going to propose! But I thought we wouldn’t be ready!” After a moment of weird silence, Alma begins laughing, and then so do I, and together we collapse on the mattress together, laughing or lungs out and crying.
“I love you so much,” she wheezes, and I rest my head on her shoulder with a thump.
“I love you too.”
~~~
Night falls, and we’re still sailing to who knows where. Alma tells me that once we reach the mainland, she’ll have to find a phone box to call the Ymbryne via a special telephone service that only Ymbrynes know of - which hurts my head to think about, to be honest. All Alma knows is that the Ymbryne is somewhere in Europe, maybe France or Germany. By a normal ferry, we probably would have reached the mainland by now, but since leaving Blackpool, the boat has been getting slower and slower to the point where we must only be going at about seven knots, a snail’s pace compared to any other boat I’ve been on.
Sometime past midnight, I’m sleeping beside Alma, our arms wrapped around each other and legs tangled, when there’s a large crash and the boat tilts precariously to the side. Alma bolts up immediately, and, in one smooth motion, cradles me against her and lifts me up, carrying me out of the room. I’m grumbling ‘what’s going on?’ In French as she checks every room we pass by and calls everyone out, yelling something along the line of an emergency.
The children, sleepy, clothes rumpled and panic setting in, are confused and asking what’s happening, when the boat takes another hit by something unknown and tilts again, all of us sliding into the walls. Alma is still holding onto me tightly and refuses to let go, though there’s really no need to carry me, I have legs.
I suppose that after everything that happened, she’s really quite reluctant to let me go.
Everything happens in a blur. There’s a crash, and screaming, and my heart is in my throat as the children cling for lift to either their headmistress or whatever is solid and won’t give way as the boat tilts dangerously.
A window smashes, and Enoch shouts for everyone to jump. I’m awake enough to ignore the intense fear of heights as I climb through the window and leap into the water splashing to the surface with a gasp, gulping in the salty air.
“Fuck!” I curse in my native tongue, and Horace makes a horrified face, but says nothing. Alma’s hands are on my face, checking me for injuries, yelling around the group. There’s crying, and Fiona is still breathing so heavily she looks like she might pass out. I take her in my arms and breathe with her, effectively calming her down. She holds onto me tightly, and the twins cling to either side of me, gurgling.
Alma does a headcount and checks everyone, even Jake for injuries. After only a few scrapes from the shattered glass, everyone is fine. Panicked and afraid, but fine.
“What do we do now?” Hugh asks, not a bee in sight. I look to Alma, and so does everyone else. She looks lost, and angry that she’s lost and can’t provide help and advice for her children. It’s pitch black save for the moon, and the water shimmers with that light.
“I’m too weak to conjure a boat. This will have to do.”
Still kicking my legs beneath the water, I raise a hand up high and cast a light illusion, big enough to grace the water ahead with enough light to spot a shore up ahead.
“Well that’s lucky,” Jake remarks, and we begin paddling.
It takes a minute to get to the shore, and when we do, we drape our bodies along the shoreline, dragging ourselves away from the water. I collapse into the wet sand, struggling to breathe for a moment, the twins cradling both of my arms and snuggling close for warmth.
“Everyone alright?” Emma asks, and there’s a few sounds of acknowledgement from the group before I lose consciousness.