A/N: Movie universe Miss peregrine. I write both Miss Peregrine's home for Peculiar children stories based off the book and the movie, and I've become a little lazy with pointing out when It's what, so i'm pointing it out now:
Movie Universe. Unlike many other Miss P fanfics I write (especially in this kind-of series where all these stories begin with 'The bird') in this one miss P look like Eva Green. Everyone clear on that? Good. Thank you. Please review when you finish.
Miss Peregrine woke up to the positively worst cold she had ever had in her life, and that was a lot of time and a lot of times.
Somehow, despite, or perhaps because of, for a long time lacking a proper home she had ended up sick almost constantly as a child.
She woke up crisp and early at Five O'clock, as usual, meaning to get up to prepare the same huge breakfast buffet that she offered to her children everyday, but as soon as she tried to sit up she felt that something was very wrong.
The exploding headache that had plagued her all of the day before, so to the point that she almost made Enoch, Emma and Jake cook dinner and retired to her quarters early, had doubled in strength over night. All her limbs were aching and sore, she was coughing and wheezing and her nose was both running and clogged up at the same time. She didn't need a thermometer to know she was running a likely quite high fever.
Still, she ignored it. She was stubborn, and she'd be damned if she let a cold take her down. She got up from bed and got dressed as usual, rubbing her temples despite it only appearing to make her dizzy and making the bun she wore her hair in just a little looser to lessen strain on her head. She spent a good half hour on the bathroom floor, hugging the toilet and trying not to puke, a little experiment which failed miserably, and after which she simply got up again, trying to hurry to make up for now being fifteen minutes after her schedule.
She was still not ready to give in.
Hurrying, though, was easier said than done when her legs felt like jell-o and constantly threatened to give out. Even the short travel from her bedroom to the kitchen was almost more than she could take, the wall and the railing of the stairs taking most of her weight as she stumbled down the steps. She immediately sat down on the closest chair once she finally made it to the kitchen. The nausea she'd been fighting in the bathroom had returned, and she had to stay put in the chair for another half-hour before it felt safe to get up.
By now, she was almost an hour after her personal schedule and feeling miserable enough that she considered not making any breakfast for the children, but instead heading back to bed and taking a sick day, letting them live off whatever they could produce on their own.
As soon as the thought crossed her mind, though, she could hear Esmeralda Avocet's demanding voice nagging at her from the back of her head, chewing her out like she was a school girl studying at the Ymbryne Academy all over again.
"An Ymbryne always have to have their children as their first and foremost concern. An Ymbryne has to be ready to put their children before even themselves. It is our duty."
Sighing deeply only to end up in a coughing fit that left her gasping for air. Still, Miss Avocet's words from so very long ago was still ringing her ears, a persistent reminder that she signed up for this, for taking care of the children despite all, and therefor she tried.
Moving away from the chair and over to the counter, she tried to open the cabinet to pick out the ingredients for the porridge, only to find that she suddenly couldn't focus her gaze. Everything felt extremely blurry, the counters of the items crossing one another, and hadn't she had the space memorised like the back of her hand she would never have been able to find the container with the oats for the oatmeal and the jam jar.
She was starting to concern herself, thinking maybe there was exceptions to the rules, when suddenly she felt her legs give out under her. They'd been shacking and wobbly all since she left the chair, but at least they'd carried her up till now. She can feel herself falling, all of her weight thrown to the left as the already blurry world was first tilting and then quickly going black around her.
She was passing out, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Enoch wake up at seven as always, quickly climbing out of his bed and getting dressed. Once that was done, her proceed out into the hallway, knocking on Emma, Olive and Jacob's doors first, letting them get dressed so that they were ready to help the younger children get ready for the day before knocking on their doors as well.
While everyone helped each other get ready upstairs, Enoch headed downstairs to the kitchen. He knew that Miss Peregrine woke up at five every morning, and that by the time he came down to tell her everyone was awake and getting dressed, and no one was sick or needed her attention in any other way, it'd be about half an hour until breakfast was ready.
Normally, by the time he'd reached the kitchen doors, Enoch could smells a faint smell of bacon, cinnamon and porridge from the cooking breakfast, but today he smelled nothing. He couldn't hear any sounds, either, as he approached the door, and suddenly he felt as though something might be very wrong.
Pushing the door open, sudden extreme fear gripped at him as he saw all of his concerns being verified as he stared at the ghostly, haunted scene before him. Miss Peregrine, paler than ever and with a glistening layer of cold sweat resting her forehead, was laying in a heap on the floor, clearly having collapsed while making breakfast. The container with oats for the porridge and the jar of jam on the counter told him that she had started to prepare, but never actually got to doing any cooking.
"OLIVE! Olive get down here! NOW!" He turned and ran from the room, sprinting as fast as he could out of the kitchen and across the hall to the stairs, where Olive, already dressed but visibly concerned, was already waiting.
"I'm here Enoch, what is it? Did something happen?" Her brows are furrowed and her bright red hair is shining brighter than ever as she look at him fearfully.
"Miss Peregrine is sick, collapsed right on the kitchen floor. Get help from Emma or someone and put her on the couch in the parlor, but keep her away fro the youngest ones, and then start making some breakfast." He quickly instructed, trying to keep himself calm and collected so he could direct the others and tell them what to do.
"W-will do...but What are you going to do?" She twirled around, her clearly worried eyes meeting his as he began moving down the hall-
"I'm going to call Miss Avocet." He proclaimed, voice steady and decided so Olive wouldn't fight him."She can fly here in little over an hour from Blackpool, and help us take care of the bird. Her reset time is at four in the morning, so she will have a little under twenty hours to spend here, too." He had only found out what happened to Miss Peregrine, that she was sick, about half an hour ago, but he already had a plan for exactly what to do, somehow always prepared for the worst outcomes and so much better at handling them than everyday life.
Still, as soon as he reached the phone, he suddenly felt quite ill-at ease. No one except Miss Peregrine was ever allowed to use the phone, and even then she only ever used it to call some of her Ymbryne sisters for an occasional chat (though they mostly preferred to communicate via letters) and to answer Abe's daily call that had been the same since they made the loop, telling them he was safe even though he might not be.
"Come on, you can do this. It is not hard. Just pick it up and call." He persistently told himself, finally after what felt like an eternity actually picking it up and tapping the number, for a moment fearing that he didn't know what Miss Avocet's number was, before finding it written down on a note on the table. The number wasn't a normal number, but a peculiar one, in some unknown way enabling calls between loops.
For several long, agonizing moments, the phone kept being silent, only a slight buzz heard on the other side as he waited and waited. He was just about to hang up, feeling stupid and embarrassed that he really thought she was actually going to pick up, when someone did pick up.
"Hello, who is it?" A shy, timid voice that reminded Enoch a lot of Claire spoke up on the other side, and Enoch hurried to replied.
"My name is Enoch O'Connor. I'm calling from Miss Peregrine's loop on Cairnholm, Wales, on the 3rd of September 1940. Could I please talk to Miss Avocet? It's important."
There was a short silence, then a sound of fabric rustling, soft feet hitting wooden floor boards with an echoing thud that could be heard even over the phone.
"Yes, you could. A moment. Miss Avocet!" He could hear the squeaky, childish voice running away, calling for their headmistress, and was once more left to stand there in silence for a few more moments before someone came back.
"Hello, Miss Avocet speaking, are you still there?" The voice that once more picked up was not the same that had been speaking earlier, and obviously belonged to an older female, tinged with a an English upper-class accent and very refined.
"Yes I'm still here." Enoch answered, trying to restrict his thick scottish brogue even more than usual as it suddenly felt rough and unpolished compared to the other woman's speech."My name is Enoch and I live in Miss Peregrine's loop, on the third of September 1943 on Cairnholm, Wales."
"Ah, yes, I know of your loop, dear. Alma is a dear sister of mine. However, I was told it was urgent, so I have to ask if something's happened, if Alma and the other children are okay?" The woman sounded honestly concerned, her voice laced with worry, and Enoch cringed, somehow feeling sorry for obviously stressing the other woman more than necessary.
"Everyone's okay. Miss Peregrine is very sick, though, and we don't really know what to do. You're one of the few Ymbrynes who live relatively close by, and I was hoping you could over and help us take care of our Ymbryne? She is so stubborn, I fear she will not listen to us and let us take care of her and instead end up collapsing again and hurting herself." Enoch fought to sound more polite than he usually did, afraid to have her decline helping them because of that he accidentally or not so accidentally offended her. She seemed posh and stuffy enough to do so, especially if she thought him to have offended her purposely.
"Oh my. Did she really collapse? That girl's always been too stubborn for her own good, but this..." At first, it sounded like she was talking more to herself, being quite shaken and trying to process all that she'd been told, but then she was obviously speaking to him. "I can leave in half an hour, so then I'll be there to help you in less than two hours. I hope that will be sufficient? Your loop reset is not until quite some time later anyway, is it?"
Hearing her take command, Enoch nodded wordlessly, only to remember that she couldn't see him doing it, and it instead just looked silly of him to nod to no one at all.
"Our reset is in a little more than twelve hours from now, so if you come in about two hours it will be more than enough. We'll try to manage till then." He can't help the sigh of relief that escaped his lips. Having another Ymbryne there would not only make it easier to take care of Miss Peregrine, but it would also be helpful as they would have more time to look after the younger children while the Ymbryne looked after her sister.
"I believe you can do it, boy, and I'm sure Alma does to. Just hold out, and I'll join you shortly." With that Miss Avocet hung up, and so did Enoch, walking away from the hallways towards the dining room with a good feeling in his stomach. Everything was going to perfectly alright, he was sure.
He'd made sure of it.
As Miss Peregrine slowly started coming back to conscious, she was first one hundred percent that she was still dreaming. She simply had to, considering she could hear her old mentor, Miss Avocet's, voice speaking to her from just nearby, soothing her like she'd done back when Alma was still an Ymbryne in training and would fall ill, trying to hide it desperately until finally she couldn't anymore and was then forced to bed.
"Poor little girl, never knew how to take care of herself. An Ymbryne is supposed to be selfless, but I wonder when you'll finally realise that you're worth just as much, and it is important that you look after yourself too." Miss Avocet's voice murmur, and she is convinced it absolutely have too be a memory because yes Blackpool wasn't that far away but there was no explanation why she'd have come all the way to Wales for whatever reason.
Unless something serious happened
Suddenly, Alma is trying to sit up in bed, scrambling to gather her strength and get ready to fight whatever threat might be approaching despite her limbs screaming with pain, but before she can even get half-way, she is pushed down again.
"Alma! You need to lay still, girl!" Miss Avocet's face is hovering above hers and on a subconscious level Alma also notes that she is not actually in a bed, but on one of the couches in the parlor.
She can't say she remember how she ended up there, or when she even left her bed, but somehow she is and she's not still entirely sure if she's dreaming or not.
"What happened?" She state it as a question to Miss Avocet, hoping to figure out if she was dreaming or not, and she was considering adding 'and what are you doing here', but the deeply troubled expression that crossed Esmeraldas face stopped her. "Esmeralda?" This was it. It was now that her old mentor was going to tell her whatever horrible news she was holding in.
"You're sick, Alma. Very sick indeed." Esmeralda's soft voice said quietly, a shaky and aged hand reaching out to remove some hair from Alma's face. "One of your charges, Enoch I think his name was, called me and asked I come help. He said you'd collapsed and needed help, but that he doubted you'd let them take care of you."
Miss Avocet looked truly miserable and worried, and Alma somehow pitied her, a mix of shame and confusion creeping into her own mind. When had her mentor grown so old and frail? She had seemed so much stronger back at the Ymbryne Academy, younger and with greater influence over the young girls she taught, but now she was just an old lady sitting in a chair and staring at her as though it was she who was the frail one.
It didn't feel fair to take up the other woman's energy and time like that.
"Well you're right in the sense that I won't let anyone take care of me, not even you." Alma replied bitterly and her mouth suddenly felt particularly dry and despite lacking the strength to she pushed herself into sitting position. The whole room spun around and she felt incredibly dizzy, but did her best to just ride it out. "Because I don't need it!"
She did need it, it was more than clear, but as always she fought for no specific reason. Perhaps she wanted a response out of the other Ymbryne, wanted to get away from this worried, sad woman who was both familiar and unfamiliar to her.
It seemed to work.
"Now you listen young lady" Miss Avocet started off threateningly, anger settling on her features and her voice being raised ever so slightly. "You never know when to stop. And if you don't, that means you have to give in when people who do know what's best for you try to stop you and take care of you. That said, you better stay in that bed or so help me I will call in a favour and you will find yourself buried under a blanket made out of peculiar sheep wool."
A smile had been playing on Alma's lips as she was chewed out, but now it dropped as she realised exactly how serious the threat was. Peculiar sheep wool was well-known, not only because it was, along with anything else made from peculiar sheep, virtually indestructible, but also because it was extremely heavy and rare to come by. If she was put under a blanket made out of it, there was no way she'd be able to move at all. For a moment she pondered where Esmeralda would even concur such an object, but then she remembered her saying that she would call in a favour to get it, and considering that Miss Wren was the only known, legal breeder of peculiar sheep it was from her the favour would be called in from, probably.
Seeing Alma's horrid face, Miss Avocet smiled as well, the first genuine smile Alma had seen her have since she'd woken up to her face looking down at her. "That's right, honey, either you lay still and rest of I make you, with a little help from Miss Wren." Softly, she extended her hands and helped Alma back into laying position, easing her back into the soft couch-cushions.
"You wouldn't" Alma returned, arguing for the sake of it as she was laying down again, her head resting against a pillow placed on the armrest and Miss Avocet fussing over her, tucking in a blanket around her body before she could even complain that it was neither warm nor cold yet.
Alma would never admit it, but in the end it felt good to be fussed over. It felt good having someone care about her, and whether or not she was good or it felt as though the world was crashing around her.
It had been a long, long time since she felt as though she had anyone care what happened to her.
"Just try to sleep some, will you? I'll be in the house, and I'll be checking in on your children, so you needn't worry."
It was a s though she had read Alma's mind, seeing her hesitation before she felt it and takign it into account. Alma wanted to argue that she wasn't scared for her children, but it was pointless, and she was too tired to continue arguing over every single thing for the sake of it. "Fine." Was all she said, turning her back to Miss Avocet and promptly falling asleep.
When she finally woke up, it was considerably darker in the room, and for a short moment she could feel panic rushing through her veins as she wondered if it was time for reset yet
"Take it easy, sweetie. You just woke up. Your reset was an hour ago, but I managed it for you." Miss Avocet's voice si there, steady and grounding, in her ear, dragging her back to reality and reminding her of her situation.
Slowly, mindful of her sore body, she turned around to face Miss Avocet. When she was indeed met with the sight of the woman sitting of the edge of the sofa, she couldn't help but feel a split second's worth of gratitude that it hadn't all been a dream.
Miss Avocet was wearing her most motherly expression, her hand coming up to stroke Alma's cheek. It was old and wrinkled and tiny, just like Miss Avocet herself, but her touch felt so good and comforting that Alma couldn't help but finally feel how much she'd actually missed feeling certain that someone would be there to take care of her if she fell asleep.
"I never realised how much you could miss having someone caring for you." She whispered, smiling as the hand continued to stroke the side of her face. Feeling particularly childish and needy for once, she snuggle into the hand just a little, seeking out the comfort it offered.
"I never realised how much I missed taking care of you children. You all left so quick." Esmeralda's voice is for once tinged with sadness, and subconsciously, without looking at her face, Alma knows that she is referring to how out the fifteen Ymbrynes in training that they'd been when they'd started, only three actually lived long enough to create loops. The rest had been involved in the immortality project in one way or another, and paid for it with their lives.
The project had raised the need for loops with over one hundred percent, and the three of them that had been alive afterwards had been sent out to create new homes within days.
The hasty departure had resulted in an abrupt sense of loss that never really passed, and as she was laying there and enjoying the other woman's mothering, she realised it felt the same for her.
Alma smiled, meeting her mentors saddened eyes and trying to lift her spirit. "But I'm here now." She said, bringing her own hand up to touch her mother of sorts face. "And I am never leaving like that. I would never do that."
"I know you wouldn't." The sadness in her eyes leave, and is instead replaced by warmth and care as she grabbed Alma's hand in between her own and held it. "You were always loyal."
The sick day was something that Miss Peregrine opposed to, to begin with, because she hated being vulnerable or otherwise incapable of looking after herself.
Now though, she was glad that she'd gotten sick. A sick day was clearly what they'd all needed.
