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Hate.
Honestly, one of Enoch’s favorite words.
Commonly, Miss Peregrine would correct him and tell him that that was too strong of a word to refer to the menial things he often said he hated. From the ever repetitive daily chores or even worse, dealing with the other children in the house, he used the word hate quite loosely.
Less commonly, did he really mean it. He had a fondness for routine, as anyone trapped in a time loop would after the first decade or so. He also, sadly, had developed a fondness for his peers in the loop, especially the little ones, which he secretly enjoyed entertaining with his various poppets.
But, when Jacob Portman showed up within the loop, he felt the same searing hatred he did for his grandfather.
Enoch was well aware that the boy wasn’t his grandfather, but it truly didn’t help that he bore a striking resemblance to the man he had spent the last.. however many years despising.
He had brought Jacob to his workshop, hoping to scare him off quickly and efficiently, lest any attachments form between him and the others in the home. There was already something brewing between him and Emma, which Enoch thought to just be Emma not being able to get over Abe.. not that he’d tell her (or Jacob) that.
“So you.. bring things to life?” He sounded hesitant, leaning over the table to squint at the now fallen creations Enoch had used to put on quite the show.
“Pretty much.” He found himself glaring at the spot Jacob was staring, unable to lift his eyes to make eye contact. “By the way, Emma’s not interested.. hasn’t been since-“ With that, he looked up, and found Jacob had been staring at him. His face heated up and he quickly looked back down at the creations laying on the table in front of him.
“Oh, no.. I’m not-“ He chuckled, clearly nervous. “I’m not interested-” There was a pause, like he was trying to figure out what to say next. “-in her.”
Enoch grimaced, “I saw you two in the garden.”
“I was just helping her with the chore you’re supposed to do.” He put his hands on the table, leaning forward towards Enoch.
Personality wise, he was nothing like his grandfather, but Enoch could tell Jacob picked up some mannerisms from him. He felt his stomach twist at the thought.
He leaned closer, staring into the bright blue eyes that were now glaring him down, “I have been holding that rope for decades, I was glad to have a day off.” Enoch leaned back in his chair, hoping to elicit some sort of reaction out of Jacob. “You could just take over, if you don’t plan on running off like Abe.”
“You realize I’m not him, right?” He took his hands off the table, standing up straight. “All of you seem to think I’m just like him.. that I’ll abandon you all like he apparently did.”
“You aren’t from this time, Portman.” He shook his head, trying to reel in the disgusted look on his face. “No matter how many times Miss Peregrine may tell you that you belong, you don’t.”
Jacob’s expression fell, and he pursed his lips, like he had something to say, but instead, kept quiet.
With that, Enoch stalked off, up the stairs and out of the sight of those eyes that burned an image into his mind. He was starting to question the nature of his hatred, a question he’d prefer to ignore.
He knew he had just left Jacob alone in the labyrinthian basement, and he also knew that he should probably apologize. But, he wasn’t going to admit to being wrong that easily, especially not mere moments after he had made his point.
His room was where he often found solace, but even there, Jacob was found in old pictures of Abe hanging on the walls. It felt like something was bubbling over inside of him, something terrible and vile and it couldn’t be stopped by throwing his head on his pillow and willing it away.
There was a knock on his door.
His entire face contorted, and he felt like he should say something.. shout at whoever it was to go away, but for some reason, no words would form. Instead, he stood, staring at the countless framed photos hanging on his wall, given to him by Miss Peregrine since he didn’t have much decor of his own.
A voice rang out from the other side of the door. American.
“Enoch? Olive told me you’d be in here.” He seemed nervous, which was understandable, considering the exchange they had just had in the basement.
At that moment, he did something that he couldn’t explain, “Come in.” The words tasted bitter in his mouth, and he felt like he needed to run out of the room, away from whatever Jacob was about to talk to him about.
Jacob opened the door, his voice quiet, “Hey..”
“If this is about what I said-” He trailed off, his fists clenching by his side.
“I just want to make it clear to you that I’m not him.” He shut the door, offering more privacy. “I don’t know the whole story, but from what I do know, you have a reason to be mad.”
Enoch turned to face him, and realized just how close he was, “You think I don’t know that?”
“Well, downstairs you certainly implied you hated me because of him.” He offered an awkward smile, attempting to ease the tension, something Abe would have never done. “I get that you care for everyone here a lot, even if you show it in a really weird way.”
He nodded curtly.
Jacob took that as a prompt to continue, “I probably can’t stay here, I know that, and so do you. But, for now I will.. and I’d like for this whole thing-“ He motioned between them with his hands. “-to not be centered on hatred?”
It took everything in Enoch to not walk away without saying anything. Instead, he spoke, “Fine, great. Magically make me not hate you.”
His eyes locked with Jacob’s and again, his piercing blue eyes so different from Abe’s, holding none of the arrogance and bitterness found in his grandfather's.
Jacob looked down, breaking eye contact, “I don’t know what you want me to do, Enoch.”
The use of his name snapped him back to reality. The way Jacob said it was so different than how most of the others in the home did. Instead of anger or impatience was something more tender. It sounded like he wanted to say Enoch’s name.
“I’m sorry.”
The second those words left his mouth he knew he had lost. Jacob Portman had won, unsurprisingly, and now the hatred churning within him felt different.. it wasn’t gone, just replaced.
Jacob looked up, his mouth agape, “What?”
“God, don’t make me say it again.” He ran his hands over his face, tugging underneath his eyes.
“Okay.” He smiled, and stuck out a hand for Enoch to take. “We can call it a truce.”
“Bit more than a truce, I’d say.” He took Jacob’s hand and shook it firmly.
“Would it be too much to say friends?”
Enoch raised an eyebrow, “You’re pushing your luck, Portman.”
He paused, staring at their still interlocked hands, “Acquaintances.”
Enoch smiled, rolling his eyes. He replied, “Acquaintances.” He tugged his hand away, making a show of wiping it off like he had just touched something gross.
Jacob laughed, filling Enoch with that ever present gut wrenching feeling. If it wasn’t hatred.. he wasn’t quite sure what it was.
“It’s almost dinner, isn’t it?” Jacob looked out the window, trying to pinpoint where the sun was in the sky.
“Care to join me?” He wasn’t sure what had overcome him, now acting so cordial to the boy he had hated a few hours ago.
“Sure.” He turned from the window, smiling at Enoch, the same tenderness from his voice now present in his expression. “Is there a seat by yours?”
Enoch’s eyes widened, and he swallowed, attempting to formulate some sort of clever response. Instead, he settled on, “I can make room.”
There was that laugh again. The mere sound made Enoch want to double over.
The pair headed downstairs, Enoch watching Jacob excitedly bound down the stairs like he hadn’t eaten in several days.
Americans..
Once they arrived at the table, Jacob quickly slipped into the chair next to Enoch’s seat at the end of the table. He assumed everyone had assigned seats, and was hoping that he didn’t accidentally take anyones.
Across the table, Horace spoke, “If you’re worried about taking someone’s seat, don’t be.”
Jacob looked up, visibly relaxing, “Oh.. good.”
Horace leaned forward, covering the side of his mouth with his hand, like Enoch would stop being able to hear him that way, “It’s a bit hard to fill up spots next to the deadraiser.”
Jacob's mouth quirked into a smile, “I wonder why.” His eyes wandered back to Enoch, who was sitting with his arms crossed, trying to ignore the conversation happening in front of him.
Jacob sat back in the chair, significantly less stressed than when he sat down, until he was jabbed in the side. Olive, who was sitting next to him, looked between him and Enoch.
She spoke quietly, “I assume you two settled your little situation?”
“Yeah. Thanks for letting me know where he likes to hide.” Jacob glanced at Enoch again, quickly looking down at his food when they locked eyes.
Enoch sighed loudly, leaning forward over the table, “Being in my room is not hiding, I live here for Christ’s sake.”
“Just calling it how I see it.” Jacob shrugged, shoving a piece of carrot into his mouth.
“What?” Enoch looked at him, slightly tilting his head.
He shook his head, swallowing his food, “Don’t worry about it.”
Once they had all started to eat their food, the dinner table had quieted down significantly. The main noises were the clinking of silverware and the occasionally humming of bees flitting around Hugh, much to Olive’s discomfort.
At the opposite side of the table, Miss Peregrine rose to her feet, pulling her pocket watch out, “It’s nearly movie time. Let’s start cleaning up everyone.” She looked at Jacob. “I assume you’ll be staying for the film?”
“I..” When a cacophony of voices rose up asking him to at least stay until the Reset, all he could do was nod as a response.
As he got up, he squeezed Enoch’s shoulder, an action he couldn’t quite explain the reason for. Though, it was pretty funny to see Enoch practically squirm from the contact, his face visibly heating up.
Like clockwork, the house’s occupants filed from the kitchen to the movie room, which seemed to just be a typical foyer. Jacob found himself squished in next to Enoch on a loveseat that was covered with variously sized pillows.
Jacob leaned over and whispered to Enoch, “What kind of movie are we watching?”
“Horace can project his dreams.” He nodded to the boy who was donning an odd looking device on his eye. It resembled an old timey (to Jacob) camera lense, and he felt captivated by it, partially due to his love for cameras.
Springing to life from inside Horace’s mind, a movie began to play on the wall in front of them. Not soon after, he felt a tug on his pant leg and looked down, noticing Claire sitting on the floor in front of him and Enoch.
“He dreams quite a lot about clothes.” She smiled. “But sometimes his dreams tell the future!”
Some of the others on the floor shushed her, and both her and Jacob turned their attention back to the wall.
The dream suddenly switched to an entirely different atmosphere, much darker than the previous upscale tailor. It starred Jacob and Emma, and next to him, he felt Enoch lean forward. He glanced at him, and noticed his brows were furrowed, his hands tightly clenching each other.
In the dream, Emma leaned in, and apparently so did he.. before they were able to kiss, Miss Peregrine motioned to Horace to remove his eyepiece, much to the dismay of many of the children.
“Go get ready for the Reset everyone. Then it is off to bed, including you Mr. Portman.”
He looked up at her, offering an apologetic smile.. not that the dream was his fault. He then glanced next to him, finding the seat empty.
Jacob got up, grabbing Miss Peregrine’s arm before she was able to leave the room, “Did you see where Enoch went?”
She looked at him with something that could only be described as a knowing look, “He’s probably down in his workshop.”
Jacob just nodded, rushing out of the room, and hoping he was able to find Enoch’s workshop in the maze of a basement that the home had.
Luckily, he was able to find it, and he knocked quietly before entering. Enoch was stooped over his workbench, molding clay angrily.. that wasn’t even an action Jacob knew you could do angrily.
He spoke, alerting Enoch to his presence, “Enoch.”
“What?” The word was bitter, said like it left a bad taste in his mouth.
“Are you okay?” He approached the workbench slowly, like he was approaching an animal. “I know you’re pretty possessive- not in a bad way! Just..” Jacob trailed off, looking at Enoch, his expression full of sympathy.
“I’m fine.” His knuckles tightened around the clay he was working with, causing it to fall to pieces on the table.
Jacob sighed, knowing that it was no use, “We should go upstairs.”
Enoch resigned, shoving his anger down, along with the rest of his indescribable emotions. He shoved the clay back into the storage bin he kept it in, and followed Jacob into the hallway.
“What were you making?” His voice was quiet, like he was scared Enoch may lash out if he spoke too loudly. He was right, since Enoch was practically resisting strangling him right then and there.
“You saw the fight I made earlier.. if I make bodies for the hearts, I can make practically anything come to life.” He was mumbling, trying to not seem too interested in the conversation.
Jacob nodded, “Your peculiarity is really interesting.” He faced Enoch before they headed up the stairs, stopping him by grabbing one of his arms. “Really, it is. I know you want me to be scared of you and hightail it out of here, but..”
Enoch’s facade broke for a moment, his eyes softening at the comment, before they returned to their typical stony glare, “Thank you.”
“Yeah.. of course.” His face was now pink, and he quickly headed up the stairs, attempting to ignore whatever he was now feeling.
As the pair made their way outside, Miss Peregrine was handing the children their gas masks. She handed one to Jacob as he passed her, and he looked at it, curious of what exactly he needed it for if nothing destroyed the house.
Next to him, Enoch tugged his on, standing a bit back from the rest of the kids. Jacob followed his lead, fiddling with the suction trying to make it fit properly.
“Here.” Enoch moved in front of him, tightening the nozzle. Their faces were close; Jacob could see Enoch’s furrowed brows through the hazy lens of the mask. “You won’t need it for long.” He patted the side of the mask, pressing the rubbery material into Jacob’s face.
He was thankful they both had masks on, considering how flushed his face was.
Jacob looked at the crowd gathered in the yard, and noticed all their heads were tilted up. He looked up, and saw a bomb hurtling towards them.. oddly slowly. Still, he panicked, grabbing onto the nearest object, which happened to be Enoch’s arm.
His voice was barely made out in the noise, but he was definitely disgruntled, “Jake!” He swatted Jacob off of him, pointing upwards, to where the bomb was now retracting into the heavens, the music being played becoming garbled and distorted as Miss Peregrine wound back time.
Jacob looked up in awe, as the sky returned to its typical shade, and the group all removed their masks. He struggled with his, pulling at all the wrong places.
“God, you truly are helpless.” Enoch dropped his own mask to the ground, taking off Jacob’s with a bit more force than necessary.
“Thanks.” He held the mask close to his chest, his fingers trailing along the rims of the goggles.
Everyone else had headed inside, leaving the two of them standing in the yard. Alone.
It was quiet for a moment before Enoch spoke, “I assume you’ll be heading back now.”
“You’re not mad?” Jacob was quiet, like Enoch might snap if he said the wrong thing.
His mouth twitched, “No.”
“I’ll come back.. as soon as I can.” He dropped the mask to the ground next to Enoch’s.
His expression was cold, but his voice wavered, “Promise me.”
“Enoch..” He sighed, and hastily took one of Enoch’s hands in his. It was an action meant to comfort, but instead it seemingly sparked more emotion in Enoch.
He gripped Jacob’s hand tightly, “ Promise me .” His expression shifted to one of pure desperation, mixed with anger; pleading that Jacob stay.
“I promise.”
After a moment, Jacob grabbed Enoch’s face, leaning in; Enoch got the message, closing the gap between them. He kissed him like he may never see him again.. now he understood a bit more of Emma’s pain.