Hi! Just a quick note to anyone who was reading my other fanfiction. ...Sorry. Haha I kind of ghosted you there. But hopefully writing this one will improve my motivation and you might actually get a new chapter!

And to anyone reading this one- I hope you enjoy and please review!

CHAPTER ONE

Enoch lay in his bed staring up at the ceiling. It was well past midnight and he was exhausted, but as much as he tried to force sleep, his insomnia, bane of his bloody existence and the cause of the dark circles ever-present under his eyes, kept him awake. He scowled, abandoning another night's futile efforts, and sat up, pulling some clay from the drawer beside him and starting to model it into the shape of a homunculus. He'd almost completed it when there was a commotion from outside. Enoch paused to listen.

High-pitched, girlish crying, sounding like that of Olive or Claire.

A low, comforting voice. Bronwyn?

Then came the unmistakable voice of Miss Peregrine. Enoch tilted his head, but still couldn't make out what she was saying. Normally he wouldn't care about the petty problems of Miss Peregrine's youngest peculiars, but tonight he welcomed the distraction and besides, his clay was far too hard for a decent homunculus.

Opening the door a crack, Enoch peered out into the hall.

"I understand your distress Claire my dear, but you can hardly blame Mr Somnusson for his peculiarity." Miss Peregrine said to the young girl.

"But it's scuh-scary!" She cried, and Olive nodded gravely next to her.

"I assure you it's far worse for me…" Came a mumbled voice, and Enoch realised Horace was standing behind Miss Peregrine uncomfortably. They faced a concerned Bronwyn and distraught Olive and Claire. Claire continued as if she hadn't heard him.

"-All this scr-screaming a-and cruh-crying." She whined.

"Every night!" Chimed in Olive. Then she too was crying. "I don't want to hear about death a-and the world ending anymore!" She wailed, and Bronwyn gave her a hug. Horace's shoulders slumped in shame.

"Sorry…" He said to the ground. Miss Peregrine tutted discontentedly.

"There's absolutely no reason to apologise, Horace. This problem has a quick fix. Go and get your blankets girls- you can sleep in Miss Bruntley's room tonight. Quickly now! So we can all get as much sleep as we can with what's left of the night." They hurried off, Bronwyn in tow.

"You too Mr Somnusson." Miss Peregrine said to Horace.

"Yes, Miss Perigrine." He said dejectedly as she walked back down the hall. He stood there for a moment, looking absolutely exhausted, then seemed to sense someone watching him. Looking up, he met Enoch's eyes and frowned. He shot Enoch a look like "What are you looking at?" Enoch rolled his eyes before shutting his door with a bang.

The next morning, as everyone tucked into their breakfast, Miss Peregrine cleared her throat. The peculiars fell silent.

"Now children, as of last night it has come to my attention that we may need to make some room changes." There were instant groans and cries of injustice.

"That's absurd!" Cried Millard indignantly. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to set up all the maps and diagrams on my walls? The Map of Days won't analyse itself you know!"

"Well I'm certainly not moving." Piped up Hugh. "My bees need to be close to Fiona's room so they have plants to pollinate. If you have me move away it will be much too far to fly!"

Fiona nodded her agreement.

"Oh please." Enoch scoffed. "You just want to be next to Fiona so you can sneak off and snog her without the Bird waking up." Hugh and Fiona flushed.

"You'd better hold your tongue before I sting it off." Hugh growled.

Miss Peregrine stood and clapped her hands before a full-blown fight could ensue.

"Please, there's no need for hysterics." She said. "I just need one of you to swap rooms with Olive and Claire for a week or so. Horace has been having a bout of bad nightmares lately and hearing him through the wall is beginning to upset them."

"Well it certainly won't be me, so someone else will have to volunteer." Declared Millard.

"What about Emma?" Enoch said. "I'm sure Horace would be happy to tell her about her complete lack of a future with Abe."

Emma's eyes flashed with anger.

"You little- come here so I can burn your face off!" She cried. Enoch just snorted with laughter.

"Why don't we just make Enoch swap rooms?" Hugh said.

"That's an excellent idea!" Emma said, shooting Enoch a smug smirk.

"All in favour of Enoch changing rooms?" Millard asked.

"Hey, hang on-" Enoch frowned, head swivelling between the hands that were raising around him.

"Aaaand that's a unanimous vote for Enoch to change rooms." Millard said, and you could hear the grin in his voice.

"What? No way am I moving next to-" But it was too late. Hugh slapped him on the back.

"Thanks for volunteering to change, Enoch." He smirked. "Very chivalrous."

"B-but-" Enoch turned to Miss Peregrine, but she too was struggling to hide a grin. Enoch scowled.

"Fine!" He spat, and stormed out of the room.

A few hours later, his sheets and pillow were under one arm, and all the belongings he'd need in his new room were packed up in a box. He passed Claire and Olive in the hall, carrying boxes of their own.

"If you so much as touch my things…" He warned.

"Oh, leave them alone Enoch." Bronwyn sighed, guiding the girls away from him.

Enoch dumped his stuff on his new bed. It was tiny and bright yellow, meant for a little girl. Olive's. Claire's bed had already been carried into Enoch's room by Bronwyn earlier that day.

Enoch looked around him. Pastel walls with frilly lace curtains. Piles of porcelain dolls and stuffed toys everywhere. He wrinkled his nose.

"The decor's a bit lacking, isn't it?" A voice spoke across the room.

Enoch looked up to see Horace leaning against the doorframe. "I pleaded with them to go for something more tasteful, but no- pastel it is." He hesitated, shifting uncomfortably and suddenly looking embarrassed. "I hope you don't mind having to move… sorry if I wake you up."

Enoch smirked.

"Just as long as you don't cruh-cry and sc-scare me." Enoch mocked in a high-pitched Claire impression. Horace laughed, then frowned, suddenly realising that Enoch was probably making a dig at him as much as he was Claire. He went worrying off to his room, while Enoch started to unpack his things.

Enoch sat for hours in his new room, making homunculi, grumbling to himself. His old room was at the very end of the hall, but Olive and Claire's was second from the front, right by the stairs, meaning that everyone had to walk past his door to get to their own rooms. Today it seemed that every man and his dog had gone up the stairs, and if Enoch heard one more creaking footstep or door open and close, he was going to murder someone. Not to mention that he'd run out of chicken's hearts to put into his homunculi, so now he'd have to go all the way down to the basement to get some more. Throwing his door open, he marched downstairs. Bronwyn stood at the bottom, talking in hushed tones to what appeared to be thin air. Millard. Enoch stopped just out of sight.

"-says it's disgusting. At least Claire has her own bed, but Olive has to sleep in Enoch's, and he's left bits of clay and gunk and blood everywhere. You can't open drawers without finding pickled things, or scalpels or…." She noticed Enoch listening and shut her mouth.

"Hey there, Enoch." Said Millard awkwardly. "What are you doing?" Enoch grumbled a retort under his breath, before shoving past them. He heard their conversation fade out behind him.

"Well, if you're worried maybe we should work something else out?" Millard said to her gently. Then he laughed. "I mean, this is Enoch's room, remember? It's destined to be filthy."

Enoch stormed out the front doors onto the grass, forgetting all about going to the basement.

"This is Enoch's room. It's destined to be filthy." He mocked, scowling. "Yeah, it's my room so I'll have it how I want, you pathetic sod!" He yelled back at the house, even though he knew Millard couldn't hear him.

Enoch threw himself down under a tree, watching Emma throw fireballs into the air to the delight of Olive and Claire, and Hugh and Fiona sitting and talking quietly in the long grass, Hugh's bees flying around them lazily. The only other person who seemed to be alone was Horace, who sat on the front porch, staring into space. He looked sad, Enoch decided.

Good, Enoch thought. Someone as miserable as me.

Then he got out some clay, and started the monotonous task of making yet another homunculus.

Enoch lay in his new, tiny bed. He thought he would struggle to sleep even more in Olive and Claire's room- his feet were sticking over the end of the blooming bed, for Bird's sake! But to his surprise, it seemed to be just the change of scenery he needed and he soon fell asleep.

Enoch felt like he'd only just closed his eyes when he was startled awake by a scream. Eyes darting open, he flailed upwards, heart racing and eyes wide as his head whipped around the room in panic. Then the scream came again, followed by sobs, and Enoch's brain registered what was going on.

"Oh great." He muttered. He rolled over and shoved his pillow over his head to muffle the sound of Horace's panicked cries. It did nothing. Enoch's eyes snapped open again and he scowled. He shut the door and tried once again to ignore Horace, but it was impossible. His sobs came through the wall and seemed to echo around the room.

"Oh, for Bird's sake!" Enoch leaped up and marched out the door, into Horace's room.

The quicker you shut him up, the sooner you can go back to bed. He told himself.

Horace lay writhing in a tangle of blankets, mumbling unintelligibly. Enoch stood in the doorway, not sure what to do. Then Horace screamed again and Enoch winced. He shook Horace's shoulders roughly.

"Horace! Wake up. Hello?" He waved a hand in front of Horace's face. "Wake up!"

Horace continued to mumble in his sleep, voice shaking with fear, and when Enoch shook him harder, he started to scream again.

"Oh for God's sake." Enoch muttered. Great. Just what he needed.

Enoch glanced warily at the doorway to see if anyone had woken up, but no lights were on.

"Why can't bloody Miss Peregrine deal with this?" He scowled down at the mumbling Horace. "I'm not your mother you know."

But then he shook Horace again and, finally, he gasped and sat up. Horace's face was pale and scared, and when he saw Enoch standing uncomfortably next to him, his face crumpled, fighting tears. He sniffed and rubbed his face roughly with his hands, shaking a little. Enoch just stood watching him stupidly, feeling embarrassed. He found himself looking around the room, at the walls, at the lamp, anywhere but the crying boy in front of him.

"So what do you want me to do?" Enoch muttered uncomfortably.

"Wha-what?"

"What am I meant to do now?" Enoch's voice rose angrily. "Am I meant to get Miss Peregrine? Do you need to write your prophecies down? What usually happens?"

Horace laughed and wiped his eyes.

"Nothing." He said, shrugging. "It's fine thanks Enoch. I'm fine now. Sorry for waking you up."

Enoch wouldn't look at him.

"Whatever."

He marched out the door.

The next morning, Enoch trudged downstairs, eyelids heavy.

"Now I'm going to be exhausted thanks to that idiot and his nightmares." He muttered to himself, flopping down at the table.

"Looks like Sir Kill-joy has entered the room." Emma said. "You look mad, Enoch."

Millard scoffed.

"Doesn't he always?"

"That's enough, you two." Miss Peregrine cut in before Enoch could retaliate and they fell silent, turning instead to their breakfast.

"So." Hugh smirked. "How did you sleep Enoch?" The other peculiars all grinned and turned to him, waiting for his rant.

"How do you bloody well think?" Enoch growled. He noticed Horace sink down in his chair across the table from him. Enoch could see Horace waiting for him to tell everyone just how annoying and pathetic he'd been.

Horace was surprised, however, when Enoch acted like nothing with nightmares had ever happened.

"Olive's bed is disgusting and tiny, the whole room stinks like weird hairspray and I swear to God if I find one more tiny hairbrush, someone's getting murdered." Enoch snapped, and there were a few sniggers. Horace shot him a grateful look, but Enoch just rolled his eyes.

Did Horace seriously think Enoch had avoided the topic for him? He'd be damned if he admitted to everyone that he'd helped the other boy with his stupid nightmares.

"Idiot." He muttered.