Chapter Text
Grinch woke up with a groan, his head throbbing at the bell. He opened his eyes and looked up at a ceiling that was familiar and yet strange at the same time.
"Better get up, boss."
Grinch turned his head and stared at Prunella. Her bright red hair a spot of color above her young face.
"What?" he croaked.
The other noises in the room stopped and several pattering feet came toward him. Brilla and Silvanus peered at him, and Timonius and Elena weren't far behind. His head throbbed even worse, and he groaned, closing his eyes.
"Oh, no! Boss you can't be sick today!" Timonius wailed. "I had the best idea to get us money! We just need to pool our allowance and buy syrup! Snow cones, man, snow cones!"
Grinch couldn't stand the noise, and he closed his eyes and rested his throbbing head. The others began to murmur, but Grinch tried to figure out what had happened. He couldn't remember much of anything, not what he was doing the day before or the week before. It was unusual, and his head hurt so badly as reality swam before him. He stopped trying to remember and the headache lessened. As he focused on the plain room and the thin warmth of being under his blanket, he began to feel better. Finally, he forced himself up.
"I think I'll be okay. Do we get breakfast today?"
There was a thoughtful pause, and everybody frowned.
"I don't know, boss," Timonius said. "But we'd better get ready quick or we definitely won't."
So they did. In the chilly air, they got dressed then bolted for the breakfast room. They made it just in time, and Illicure stepped out to scan them. They all pretended not to be winded as he gazed at them distastefully then he tucked his pocketwatch back into his vest.
"Go on then," he said.
So they filed in, anxious to see what they would get. It was a good day as they saw steaming bowls of oatmeal. They all hurried to their seats then waited while Illicure looked around at them.
"You are to stay outside all day," he said. "Find something for yourselves for lunch."
"Yes, sir," they all chorused.
Then he left. They listened carefully until they heard his door shut and then they began to eat. They didn't talk, shoveling down the food. Grinch couldn't remember the night before, but it was likely they hadn't been given dinner. That's how hungry he was. When the oatmeal was settling, they all automatically went to their tasks in cleaning up. They cleaned up the kitchen too, and then they made sure the rest of the orphanage was clean for good measure. Once they were absolutely sure everything was okay, they hurried to wrap themselves in their straggly winter clothes.
Without a backward glance, they crept gently out the door and down to the gated fence. Grinch paused before they went out, knowing something was off. He just couldn't place what it was, but he shrugged and they closed the gate behind them. Grinch turned around and for a second he saw two images overlaid. There was almost something that was so obvious before Prunella rubbed his face with snow. Grinch gasped and looked at her.
"Are you sure you're okay, boss?" Timonius asked, genuine concern on his normally angry face. He was always angry, ever since he'd come to them three years before. The things he'd been through before his parents had died in an accident must have been horrible, but he was softening with their kindness and care, just as Prunella had said he would.
"I don't know," Grinch answered, rubbing his forehead. He squinted at the town, but it remained the same as he'd always known it. So he shook his head and looked around. "What are we doing today? I can't remember."
"You said we could try and make money today. And I have an idea!"
"Do we need funds?" Grinch asked, starting off down the sidewalk.
Timonius nodded, not looking at him. "Yeah. But the snowball war is today and we could make a lot of money."
"How much do we need and how much do we have?" Prunella asked.
"I don't remember," Timonius said, and he stopped, an odd look crossing his face. He looked around and his expression scrunched as he grasped his head and swayed. "I don't remember?" he asked, his tone confused and surprised.
"It's okay," Grinch said, but he was shocked. Timonius was the one in charge of keeping track of their money. He was business-minded and managed their meager funds. Feeling an urgent need to get to the treehouse, Grimch began to walk faster. He passed old Mr. McGinnin's store, where they sold sweets and pastries, and Rhinestone's Jewelers, where any Who could buy a gift for their sweetheart. He felt an odd feeling wash over him, and suddenly he felt very old. He hurried on by, ignoring the adults that went about their business.
There was a nice blanket of snow, perfect for the bi-weekly snow wars that happened every December. Twice a week, the whole of Whoville came together to fight it out in a battle of snowballs and forts. It would have been nice to be invited, but Illicure had told them repeatedly that the town wanted nothing to do with orphans. They acted friendly, he said, but they weren't. All of the orphans believed him. How could they not when they'd seen Illicure smile at the town while cursing them during his Floo rants? As far as they were concerned, it was them against the world, and they didn't see that changing any time soon.
When they got to the treehouse, Grinch stopped and gazed at it with a sense of disjointed joy and sadness. Something was definitely wrong as Elena stopped and stared, her face squinching up as she rubbed her eyes.
"What's going on, boss?" Timonius asked, his voice shaking a little.
"I don't know, Tim," Grinch said. "Let's get set up and everything accounted for. Then we'll make our plans."
Grinch pressed his hands together and boosted Timonius up. He bounced up, grabbed a disguised rope and flipped upside down, hanging on it by his knees. Prunella took his hands then bounced off the tree. The two of them spun around the rope, and Prunella looped her knees over another branch. With a heave, Prunella pulled Timonius away from the rope. They swung sideways and Timonius landed with a grunt on the platform. He tugged Prunella as she relaxed her knees and she flew over to land beside him. There was a gleam of delight in both of their eyes as they bumped the ladder down so the others could scramble up. "That's still so much fun," Prunella sighed.
"Come on, it's cold," Timonius grumbled. "And I need to count the haul. I hope we have enough."
"Don't worry, Tim," Grinch said firmly. "I think this is an off day for all of us, not just you. I'm still…" He shook his head and they ducked inside to find everything neat and tidy.
They quickly warmed up one of Grinch's scrap inventions, the Ice-Negator-Heating-Thing-A-Matron. The name made them laugh, and nobody in town knew it was real. 'Who's ever heard of such a thing?' they asked each other, and the orphans smiled their secret smiles and skipped off to be warm for a change. They didn't dare bring such tech into the orphanage. It would either be confiscated or destroyed, and neither would help them. It had been such a wonderful thing when Brilla and Silvanus had found this delightful tree, perfect for a ramshackle, tossed-together, scrappy house built by the genius of their group, Grinch. He was always so clever, and the proof of it was scattered across the treehouse.
The first thing they did was huddle close until their fingers were thawed. That done, the warmed the other side before spreading out as they were finally warm again. In the summer they longed for cool breezes coming off Mount Krumpitt, but in the winter, they just wanted to be warm. This invention was an absolute lifesaver for them, and they were glad. Grinch was so quick and clever. They all knew he would go places.
But that 's not right, is it?
Grinch rubbed his forehead fiercely as his friends chatted away. What was going on? He felt tired and young and strong and frail all at the same time. Another wave of just feeling old washed over him, and he stepped back to shake his head.
"Ugh! Skimpers and scallions, what's wrong with me?!"
The others went quiet. "Boss!" Timonius said in wonder. "Language! Illy hears you saying that, and you're frosted good."
Grinch felt a wave of terror at the thought, and his hands flew up to cover his mouth. His tongue and lips seemed to tingle at the strong language he'd just used. Where had that come from? He didn't say things like that. The strongest words he used were dipsy doodle and junk. But it felt good to say it, so after a moment of cringing, he stood up straight and shrugged. "He's not here, and we can talk how we want," Grinch declared.
A look of wonder and mischief flashed across his friends' faces, and they spent the next half hour saying every bad thing that came to mind while Timonius calculated their funds and planned their haul for the day. They had some very creative ones, and some seemed foreign to his mind but also familiar, as if he'd heard them a long time ago, though 'ago' seemed to be the wrong word. 'Ago' implied it had already happened, and he knew it hadn't happened yet, but that made no sense. Yet? Now was all there was, wasn't it? What was this 'yet' and why did it feel right?
"Hey, boss?"
Grinch looked up and focused his attention on Timonius. "Got it done?"
"We can buy two bottles of syrup from Mr. McGinnin's to start with," Timonius said. "We can buy the cone papers from Missy's Miscellaneous for cheaper, and then all we have to do is make snow cones and the money should start rolling in. As it does, we can expand."
Grinch grinned and slapped his friend on the back. "Yes, Tim! You're so smart at this! We've got to succeed this time."
A pleased, embarrassed look crossed the Who-boy's face. He was rarely complimented and always glowed when he was praised. Grinch made a point to do so whenever he could. It was a boost for Timonius and made him so happy. Grinch liked it when his friends were happy, and since Illicure tried to keep them as miserable as possible, Grinch tried to bolster them throughout their long days.
"Are we ready to make some money?" Grinch asked as he looked around at the bright young faces around him, full of potential.
"If we can," Brilla said sourly.
"Let's find out," Grinch declared. "Tim, you and Elena go and gather the supplies. We'll set up shop and start making snowballs. Tim, what's our price?"
Timonius answered after a thoughtful pause. "Two cents a cone."
Grinch clapped his hands. "Alright, badgers and bullions," he said, and they all laughed even as his lips tingled again. "Let's get started."