A/N:
MOVIE VERSE, IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE MOVIE YOU SHOULDN'T READ THIS
I wrote this because in the movie Olive and Enoch had the best love story and I simply couldn't help myself.
In retrospective, he should have known that pure violence wasn't going to help their situation, but he had been furious and desperate and for the first time in a very, very long time, he had been allowed to actually hit someone. No holding back, no be gentle, nothing. Just him and his anger and his hard fist against the world.
He had done it for Miss Peregrine, and for all the other 'children' in her home that he called his friends when none could hear him, but most of all he had done it for Olive. For the girl whose hand didn't try to touch him, couldn't touch him.
He loved someone who would not try to touch him as if it was the only way for love to exist, and for her, Enoch would do anything he was asked, and more still. He'd even do what she could never ask of him, if only he knew she wanted it.
The emotional release attacking Mister Barron gave him in itself was almost worth the pain flooding his already aching body as he was immediately knocked to the floor, unconsciousness claiming him as his head bounced against the hard sand.
Had he known he would be risking Olive's life as a result of his impulsive behaviour, he would never have let his feelings loose.
ENOCH HELP ME!
His wake up was immidiate, rushed, consciousness returning to quickly and making his head hurt, throbbing pain shooting through it every time he moved even the slightest. He wanted nothing more than to give in to his protesting mind and let unconsciousness claim him once more, but he knew he couldn't.
He had woken up because someone screamed, because someone begged for him to save them, yet when he looked around, the room was perfectly quiet. Not a single sound could be heard, and Enoch wondered if his hearing was impaired or if everyone had actually stopped talking.
ENOCH HELP ME PLEASE!
Another scream called out in his ears, and more pain shoot through his head as he whipped it around, searching for the source.
No one was screaming, yet he had heard the call for help as clear as if someone was yelling it into his ears. Someone wanted, no, needed his help.
ENOCH!
A third scream echoed in his head, louder and more desperate than even the first two, and all of sudden everything became so very clear, and he see it. He see who, without physical words leaving her lips, had been screaming for him.
The wights pale fingers lay carefully placed on Olive's shoulders, the pale blue frost extending from the wights finger tips, to Olive's shoulders, and reaching all the way down her back and her arms. He knew he needed to do something, anything more than nothing, but was at loss for what.
She couldn't die. He couldn't let her die. He could feel the burning flame inside of her drowning, his heart slowing down with it. Her undying fire was the he very same flame that still kept his cold dead heart beating.
Without her there wasn't a life for him. Without her he would have been gone since so very long, another soul for Miss Peregrine to mourn alongside Victor, even though he knew it would have been more of an honour than he could ever deserve.
He saw the heart lying on the floor beside him, blood-covered and fresh and almost beating, tempting him and giving him an idea for what he could do. He had no idea if he could make it work, but he took his shot. For her. For the flame they both need.
He stuck his hands into the inner machinery of the old, drape covered elephant beside him, and when he'd found it's very core, he carefully placed his last heart there, taking out his hands first when he was certain he had gotten into place.
Then he concentrated.
It was big, and he had to concentrate so very, very hard, and even though he felt as though his head might explode with the effort, he stubbornly refused to stop.
He made the elephant stand up, taking one painstakingly slow step at the time as it moved forward. By the time it reached the wight, he simply couldn't do it anymore. He let go off it, of the heart he placed inside it, and allowed it to fall, dragging the whight along with it.
He wanted to sleep but forced himself up on his feet instead, for he saw that instead of rising or recovering Olive had fallen, Bronwyn by her side as she tried to help her to no avail.
He felt his heart dying in his chest as the flame died in hers, and had he not been who he was he would have been sobbing as he fell to his knees beside her.
He didn't even as much as look at Bronwyn as he grabbed Olive's arm, his thoughts and feelings spilling out of his mouth in words and sentence that were lost to him as soon as he said them. He didn't know what he was saying but he knew all he hadn't said yet was three tiny words, and that because he wanted to save them for when she was living.
Finally, he bent down and place a kiss upon her lips. They were cold, and tasted of snow and ice, not at all like the burning heat that he imagined should've been there.
He never kissed her before and now he might never get the chance to see her give him one of her lovely smiles as he did.
He keep talking, even though he know she's lost, even though he know the flame has died and his heart has stopped. Then, suddenly, something explode inside him and he can see Olive opening her eyes again. Her blue eyes that are full of life and void of the ice that covered them for a few, scary moments and which tells him that she is no longer dead, but alive.
He realise the exploding pain was his heart starting again as the fire came back alive in her chest.
"What did you never tell me?" She look at him, smiling playfully, and he realise it must be an answer to something of all the things he said to her dead body which he simply can't remember. Yet it feel easy to guess, for he know in his heart, which is the only missing part.
Three words, that never passed his lips. He had made it clear from the beginning, and she had accepted what he had to give either way. She had gone without smiles and affection and love, all of which she deserved, for him, because she knew he couldn't give it like normally people could, and he know that soon he need to unlock the forbidden words and give them to her.
Because she deserve them more than he deserve her and it is not fair to keep her waiting, always, when in reality he is dying without her and he knows, that they will always be a them, no matter what.
Because he, Enoch, love Olive.
It's later. Later enough that it feels like a lifetime, though nothing more than hours have probably passed. He and Olive is curled up in a private corner of the ship, staying as close to each other as they dared.
None of them like contact, and they weren't touching, but for them, it still counted as being as close as any other couple. That's why they got together, to begin with, because Olive couldn't touch with risking burning someone and Enoch didn't want to be touched because it reminded him of abusive parents and of living dead reaching out to grab him when he lost control. Touch was something that screamed of forbidden evil for them both, and they enjoyed having someone there who saw it they way they did.
They didn't need french kissing on the bridge like Emma and Jake, holding each other tight and making silly promises for an uncertain future and acting as though they were the only two people in the world. They knew better. Always had, always would.
Olive and Enoch liked to look at the big picture. They wanted to protect others, putting them before themselves in all cases.
Olive would watch over the younger children with a passion bigger than the glowing ember inside her, and though they never noticed, Enoch helped. He helped put gifts under their pillows for easter and fill their stockings at christmas. He helped find good books for Olive to read for them and warmed milk and mixed it with honey for them to drink.
They both let themselves stay in the shadow of a bigger dream or goal, but in secret they sought after the closeness of the other one. Only it wasn't closeness in the sense that they're touching, for one didn't dare and the other one didn't want.
"I thought you'd die today." He doesn't know why he say it, for it sound so uncharacteristically emotional, and he can see Olive looking back with a weird expression on her face.
"But I lived, didn't I? Thanks to you and that clumsy elephant." She said, letting out a small laugh that he's not sure if it's sincere or not. He doesn't like the half-heartedness of her happiness. Her happiness should always be hole-hearted.
"That elephant was tiring to control. I lost it in the end… but it was worth it, for I saved you." He smile, another thing uncharacteristic for him, and is rewarded with a more sincere smile from Olive. A small part of his brain tells him that maybe he should act uncharacteristic a bit more often.
"You're so melodramatic." She tells him, rolling her eyes and smiling happily. "You could move on without me. Sure, you would never smile again, but it's not like you smile a lot to begin with."
"I'm smiling now." He smile, as real and sincere as he can make it, and reach for her wrist. She try to pull away, but he catch it. He need to physically know she's there for what's next to come, to make sure that she doesn't try to run if she dislikes what he says. "I'm dead without you, Olive. You're the only thing that keep my cold dead heart beating. You can't leave me."
There's tears in his eyes, he realise, and all of sudden it is he who want to run away, want to go and never come back because he can't face it anymore. Neither the thought of losing her nor loving her. He is not meant for either.
It would be better for everyone, even Olive, if he would just run away from here. And as such, he stand up to walk away, only to find that he can't. He can't run away because Olive is holding onto his wrist, and not only does it feel so good that she's holding onto him, making him like something worth holding onto, but he can also feel her skin against his. He cherish the never before felt tough. It's soft and a little hairy and reminds him of exotic fruits like peaches and clementines, and he wonder how he's not burning up when the glove is discarded on the ground by his feet, but doesn't ask.
"No. You are not dead and will never be. And not just because I'm here. Because we're all here. Because we, all of us, all the way from Miss Peregrine to Claire to even Jake, care about you. We want you here. So please stop saying I'm keeping you alive because you never were and never will be" At the end, when she is crying and losing it too, she finally let go of his wrist and put the glove back and though there is a light pink burn mark shaped like a hand on his skin he smile, more tears pouring out, some kind of cruel revenge for all the tears he never shed before. But she is not, despite her desperate voice cracking, done. She got more to say. " Do you really want to see Miss Peregrine looking like she did when Victor died? Do you want her to cradle your dead body in her arms and cry, because she miss you? Do you want me collapsing like Bronwyn did when Victor died?"
It hurts. It hurts and it burn like her hands against his flesh would, because he knows she's right. He couldn't do that to Miss Peregrine, and he certainly couldn't do it to Olive. He couldn't leave her as broken as Bronwyn had been after everything with Victor. It was a cruel comparison, but it brought it all into perspective for him.
"I love you." He's been keeping it in for so long, and she probably had given up on ever actually hearing it, but when it comes it makes him wonder very why he waited for so long, when it's just so very easy. It feels natural and honest and true and he's so glad he finally said it.
But not as glad as she was. "I love you too" She choked out, almost hysteric, crying and sobbing and laughing all at the same time as she quickly rise and wrap her arms around his neck, hugging him and threatening to never let go. Though he normally despised hugs, he smiled brightly.
"I'm sorry I never told you before. It scared me so much I couldn't do it." He hug her closer, his arms wrapping themselves around her petite waist and he can feel her heaving chest with her beating heart against his and he's just so glad that they are alive. "I love you."
The second time is for good measure, and she catch on.
"I love you too." She repeat the statement, too, and he smile at her for she's so very lovely and now he knows for sure that she's all his. Always and forever.
The kind of love rushing through their heads and bodies are unfamiliar to them both, and hesitantly they simultaneously lean in for a kiss. Nothing long, just a quick peck on the lips, and certainly nowhere near what Jake and Emma had been doing, but for them it was, combined with the close hug and the three little words, more love and affection than they had known in their entire lives.
Their love didn't work the same everyone else's did, but it was theirs, and that was all that mattered.