Hello my readers, well first of all, as always, thank you for reading my works. This one is another version of the ending scenes in the movie-verse of Miss Peregrine's home for peculiar children. I can't tell you much but I hope you will like it.

This fic is a sequel of Goodbye, my children, my other fiction. I didn't upload it as the second chapter because I think now, it's not about Miss P saying goodbye only. It's more than that. Much more!

As always, please leaves some comments after reading it. You can ask, suggest, tell me what you feel, or even tell me what you don't like. For those who don't have an account, I can see your review as a guest, but I can't reply due to the system. So, sorry for that, but please know that every review, including ones I cannot reply, means so much to me.

Obviously, I don't own any characters in this fiction. They're from Miss Peregrine's home for peculiar children.

Now, just enjoy!

Should one ever has his or her heart ripped out, one may understand an ounce of pain Alma Peregrine feels right now.

After closing the door, the headmistress whips around to face her most unwelcoming visitor and his hostage, her face turns cold and stern, tears coursing down her sharp cheekbones.

'Now, let him go.'

Even a three-year-old kid can tell that this isn't a begging at all. But it is an order, a command that everyone, including any ambitious wight, should follow without any conditions. Barron's wise enough to gradually let go of Jake. His white eyes lock on the hawk-like ones. He moves backward and open a metal cage on a small table near the door.

Miss Peregrine looks at the cage. It's just an ordinary birdcage with a perch, but to Alma, it looks more like her coffin. Just looking at it from afar can make the ymbryne's lungs twist and, all of a sudden, it becomes so hard to breathe like the air in the hall has disappeared. Although the Bird's never been strangled before, she's quite certain that it's not different from what she feels right now at all, and she can't imagine what will happen to her in that cage.

She takes a deep breath, her chest hurts. She tries to blink her tears back before turning to see the boy she sacrifices herself for. He's her precious children's last hope. They need him more than her. After all, he is their eyes.

She walks closer, staring at the boy. His face reminds Alma of her dear Abe, the little boy who fled from the cruel war. These bright blue eyes once looked up at her and made her very happy. They were so sweet, warm, and brave, but most important, they could see what other pairs of eyes can't see. They could see a monster, creepy Hollowghasts that slaughter everything in their path. It's the peculiarity which could be considered both the gift and the curse. But no matter this boy is blessed or cursed, he is now one of her charges and also, the last gift she can give to her children.

Her stern look fades away when her face is just a few inches from Jake's. The boy can see so many emotions hidden under those piercing green eyes - worry, anger, sadness, fear. He wonders how the woman in front of him can still hold herself like this when those feelings are trying their best to blow her up from the inside out. At that moment, in Jake's eyes, Miss P is just a small woman, a human who can be vulnerable like others. Yes, she's a fighter, a warrior who will fight to her death, but a warrior can fear as well, and most of the time, not for his or her life, but for his or her loves. She looks too tired to carry this large burden on her shoulder. She has lived in her own prison for almost a century just for her children's safety and this is definitely not what she deserves.

She lifted her talon-like hands up, almost touching the boy's face, but not.

'Promise me one thing Jake,' her lips are trembling uncontrollably while these painful words slipping out, 'that you will try to look after them all.'

She has never put her children's life in anyone's hand before. Her mouth tastes bitter, her limbs are numb like they've been torn apart from her torso. She feels like she has given her soul to Jake's protection. Her core has gone for good. Alma could faint anytime soon, but better be in the cage or somewhere else, not here, not now.

Jake looks blank at first. Miss Peregrine knows very well how heavy the burden she's asked him to carry is, but she has no choice. She doesn't even have any power left to try to convince Jake that he can do it. But the boy is tough, as tough as his grandfather. His eyes flashes some sense of confidence. Although he still looks hesitant, Alma knows that he will try his best to help her children even before the boy says,

'I promise.'

And that is. That's what she wants to hear most. That's all she can ask for. She wants to thank him but a large blade comes between her and Jake before she could say anything. Barron's getting bored of this. He wants to leave now. Someone very important is waiting for his arrival at Blackpool. He better not keep that person waiting for too long, if he still loves his life.

Miss Peregrine is back into her unfriendly mode again. She steps backward, looking at her visitor, and closes her eyes. When she opens them, she raises her arms up. They swiftly turn into blue wings and when she jumps, there's nothing human left. The peregrine falcon cries sadly and flies around the hall, preparing to enter the cage. Now, it looks scarier when she is the creature of freedom. She has never understood how any birds could stand the cage or how it feels to be in there. Well, now she is about to have the firsthand experience.

Dizziness might be the first thing birds can feel on a perch when the metal door is closed and locked. Then, chills will run down their spine and make them sick. Their chest will burn and their lungs will twist until they're suffocating. At least, these are what Alma feels right now, but she doesn't regret to do so for it could buy her children's time and chance.

She sees Barron bring Jake into the parlor. She sees him 'boo' her children. She can hear their shriek and his laughter. She will never ever forgive anyone who persecutes her children. Never.

He closes the door and turns to her, smiling from ear to ear.

'Let's begin our journey, shall we?'

He bows like a gentleman, but Alma hates every specimen of him. Her feathers are raised and if she could hiss like a cat, she might do it.

'Uh oh, our little Mama bird is getting angry now,' his voice turns childish, his face looks sillier.

'Don't worry my dear Miss Peregrine. I'll try my best to make sure that you'll arrive there in one piece.' He lifts the cage up and shakes it violently. Alma screeches.

'What? I don't get a bird language. Well, I did say in one piece but might not be in a very good quality, though, I guess,' he grins, whistling when he leaves the house with what he comes for.

What is worse than a seasick is a seasick plus, well, 'a cagesick.' Miss Peregrine's talons can't even grip the perch steadily. She felt paralyzed, and it's getting worse when she's on the water. Though her head is spinning like somebody has just rolled her over and over, her eyes still fix at Cairnholm. From here, she cannot see her children, cannot feel them, and cannot know what they're doing or what they will be. The island is getting smaller and smaller, and she can't help thinking of the first day she arrived there. How long has it been since that day to this day? How long has she chosen to walk on this path, to be an ymbryne?

Alma stares at Cairnholm until it's gone for good. It's so strange that the further she is from her children, the fresher her memory becomes. Now, it's like her wards are laughing beside her. They're playing not far from her in the garden, singing, clapping their hands. This memory once made Alma so happy and so proud of herself that she could bring a smile to her children's face, that she could share both their sorrow and joy. But now, this memory is killing her, and Alma can't hold her tears back any longer. She screeches to say goodbye to the island, to people there, to her home, and although it's still hard to admit, to her beloved children.

'Dear me, dear me, such a very melancholy voice you have.'

That pulls Alma back to the real situation here. She almost forgets she's not alone on this boat. He's here as well. She doesn't turn to see him, not because she fears him, but she just doesn't want to. And for the first time, she thinks Emma's quite right about this boat, it's too small.

'You're a very pretty bird, has anyone ever told you that?' Barron moves closer when he sees that she doesn't respond to his words. 'No wonder they say you're one of the most beautiful ladies in your hometown, a raven-haired beauty of the Benthams.'

The wight grins when the Bird turns to face him. He can get her attention at last.

'What? Did you forget your own last name? Do I have to remind you that before you gave yourself to the silly council, you were once a little lady born into one of the richest families in London?'

Alma looks away. The last thing she wants to think about now is her past. She hasn't thought about her late parents for so long because every time she thinks about them, their last scream before they were killed will resonate in her mind for hours. They were killed because of her, and she couldn't let that go for quite some time. She used to blame herself for that and used to be haunted by her guilt until she found her children. With them, she could move on, she could be freed from her past. Their innocence revives her, their laughter lights her up, but now, now they're gone and suddenly, Alma is chilled to the bone.

'You know what,' Barron touches the cage, 'I think perhaps we should come back and bring your children with us, so they - OUCH!'

The wight jolts back, his finger's bleeding. Although the bird in front of him can't speak, her eyes read don't you dare touch my children. Barron forces himself to smile. It looks creepy, but the bird doesn't move. He swears if this woman wasn't so important to his life, he would enjoy breaking her wings one at a time, whistling while she screams.

'That is not..quite ladylike, Miss Peregrine,' his voice turns lower like he's trying his best to calm himself down, 'I must say both of you are quite alike, always rude. Luckily, the other's quite well-mannered.'

Alma takes a deep breath. She always prepares for this moment, but she has never been ready to face it. There are two persons in her life that she hates most but at the same time, loves as well. She wants to see them but she knows it's better not to.

'Alma! Stop cheating. You shouldn't turn into a bird, it's not fair,' said a boy before he, too, turned into a bird, chasing the smaller one.

'Don't hurt her, Jack!' Another boy on the ground shouted. His skin was so pale, his cheek hollowed. There were dark circles around his eyes.

The bigger peregrine falcon could catch the little one up in a minute. He pounced her and the little peregrine had lost her balance. She fell down, turning back into a human when she was on the ground, her arm's bleeding.

It still hurts, although now it's just a tiny scar. Alma has never understood why he hates her so much, but again, she knows nothing of him. She has never known what he's capable of and each day it seems like he keeps going beyond his limit, becoming stronger, greater, but less human.

She might have fallen back to her past for so long because when Alma comes back to the present, the Blackpool Tower is there already. Barron parks the boat at the pier and climbs up first before getting the cage, careful not to be pecked again.

'Well, welcome to the family reunion, Miss Peregrine,' he looks at her, his white eyes pop out of their sockets, 'or shall I call you, Miss Alma Lefay Bentham?'

And then he walks to the tower which is as red as blood.

Please, say something. I die to read your comments. Thank you so much that you have read it.