The rest of the way up wasn't easy, Millard especially was mildly distracted at how each time he helped Imogen and their skin came into contact, his body, arm, fingers, skin came flickering into view until he pulled away from her. It was beginning to be clearer that only with Imogen's touch, would he be seen, but as they climbed Millard couldn't help but wonder how would people react. Technically, only Miss Peregrine had any faint idea of how he looked like. When he had began to disappear, his parents had freaked out and tried to bring him to doctor after doctor. When the medicine knowledge of the 1900's couldn't help him, his parents had tried witch doctor's instead, and that was what Millard had truly despised.
They prodded and poked, tied and lashed, all sorts of experiments that Millard would have opted against if he had a choice. But what choice did he have back then? As a boy of eleven, what he wanted faded in preference of what his parents wished. And his parents had hoped desperately for a normal child. Millard had been the firstborn son, after numerous attempts.
But when his sister was born, when Millard was ten years old and 3 years after his peculiarity had began to surface, all attention shifted to little Melina. Millard got a reprieve on all the different sorts of antics his parents wanted to try, but by then all that was left of Millard was his neck, tips of his fingers and even his ears had began to disappear. It was then, that Miss Peregrine had arrived to take him away.
Don't get him wrong, his parents didn't dislike Millard. Sometimes, the boy wondered if he didn't develop his peculiarity, if he would've been the most pampered boy in his vicinity. They tried their best, but his peculiarity terrified them, and as a couple who didn't deal well with the unknown, they couldn't deal well with the son they had wished they could. So in the end, Miss Peregrine's arrival had been a blessing, and within 2 weeks of his arrival at the home, he had all but disappeared. Emma knew the color of his hair, and Bronwyn could remember the color of his eyes, but that was about it.
So right now, as the top of the cliff began to come in sight when they neared the top, Millard was amusing himself at how Enoch and Horace would react... or even Bronwyn, when they finally arrived back at the home. Would they recognize him still? He couldn't wait to return to the full length mirror he wanted to borrow from anyone of his housemates, so he himself could figure out what had changed, how had the years treated him. Technically, he was supposed to be twenty right now. How had he aged? Curiosity sparked like fireworks in Millard's mind.
"We're there, Mill." Imogen's voice drifted down to him, and the invisible peculiar looked up to see the dark haired girl scramble up, hands reaching out to pull her, before he too, grabbed the top. A pair of hands he recognized as Jacob's touched blindly, before they grasped his hands, and yanked him upwards. Millard tumbled at the force, rolling before grinning when familiar faces of those he's grown up wiith all his life appeared. Emma wore a smile, which he took as a good sign, and even Enoch and Horace weren't arguing (which they usually only did if the situation was highly stressful). Pushing himself into an upright seated position, his newly discovered status was pushed to the back of his mind as he got up. Before Millard could even ask though, Jacob flashed a grin and held up a glass bottle plugged up with a cork stopper. Within the bottle, lay a few pills that rattled as Jacob shook the bottle. "Got it. We can go back now."
Millard's grin, although it couldn't be seen, was bright as Enoch and Horace gave a happy whoop. Emma however, had a more pressing question where she turned to Imogen who had been grinning as well, "Do we have to return to the forest to be able to go back?"
"Not necessarily. I do need a sketchbook though, but..." she trailed off, suddenly grappling at her rucksack to pull out the only drawing materials she had left. One last page on her book, and a charcoal sketch pen. Biting her lip, she stared at her materials, and blinked, "I could try, but this could take awhile. Do we not get to see the healer at all?" she suddenly asked, curious now considering all of them had scaled some pretty impressive heights and traversed dangerous timezones. Emma and Jacob exchanged looks, but it was Horace and Enoch who went "No!" simultaneously, horror tinging their tunes that had Millard and Imogen blinking in surprise, a little caught off guard by the vehement denial in their voices.
Emma sniggered, Jacob hid a laugh, but neither of them offered an explanation other than "He's a hermit, he prefers his solitude. He gave us the antidote and chased us off, so I don't think he'd want us back." Jacob finally offered after a hasty cough to get rid of a laugh, much to Imogen and Millard's confusion. The two of them exchanged looks, but Imogen shook her head with an amused grin, before settling down to sketch what she could recall from her memory of Miss Peregrine's home in Scotland.
Once in awhile, one of the syndrigasts would come over and peek over her shoulder to offer suggestions, their memory better than hers since they've been there longer then she has. In between that, they wandered off to lounge on the surprisingly green surface on the cliff. The high altitude made the temperature cooler, and coupled with a balmy sea breeze made it almost seem like they were on a beach holiday, if all of them were not utterly anxious to return to Miss Peregrine's side.
It was almost nightfall before Millard began to recognize the signs of Imogen scrutinizing her work, and prodded Jacob to wave the rest of their motley crew over. Crowding around Imogen, they were quickly rewarded when Imogen grinned at them and nodded. The now-familiar actions of Imogen tracing her drawing brought a rush of warmth into their hearts, joy that they were finally going home. Enoch and Horace exchanged smiles, Emma muffled an excited squeal, but Jacob's grin was punctuated when a sudden shift in him made his senses go on high alert, as his eyes shifted from staring at Imogen's trailing fingers, to the wide open expanse surrounding them around the rocky island.
He wished, desperately that he had recognized the feeling wrongly. But the moment he looked up, color flushed out of his face. This was perhaps the one time Jacob wished that he didn't recognize the sick feelings in his gut so well now, because this time it was unmistakable.
"Just touch the ske-"
"Hurry!" Jacob interrupted Imogen's explanation, causing them all to turn surprised eyes to Jacob's wild eyed look. Imogen paused in the middle of directing Horace's palm towards her now glowing sketch, fingers gripping the younger boy's wrist midway through guiding him. "Wh-"
"Is there really a need to ask? Go! Go!" Jacob's tone now bordered on panic, and the intonation had managed to suffuse through all of them, making worry thread with horror. Was a hollow nearby?
"More! Wights! Go!" It was as if Jacob heard all of the questions unvoiced, but lingering in their heads, and all at once, action seemed to explode from the small crew of young adults. Using the grip she already had on Horace's wrist, Imogen yanked and more or less made him tumble through the glowing, haphazard portal she had constructed. Millard had made a dive for Enoch and pushed him through next, whilst Jacob did the same to Emma.
The two boys made a beeline for Imogen, but she shook her head. "I cannot! I need to stay here to keep this open."
"That's not what happened last time!"
"This sketch is rough, not fully detailed. I had the help of all of you, colours and time, less fear and more of Miss Peregrine's memories as well. This isn't a fully constructed portal and I need to close it if there's a wight hanging around. I don't need them coming after us, you guys need to go first!"
"We'll go together, c'mon! Hurry!' Jacob hustled, throwing a look over his shoulder and almost turning green when he saw the pupil-less eyes of the billowing wights, two hollows following in his wake. The male was dressed in a brown suit, with a thick head of hair and a sneer in his face.
"Gen, hold my hand!" Millard grabbed, and Imogen squealed as that sudden movement almost caused her to lose her grip on the sketchpad. "Jacob, go in first!"
"I'm no-"
"Go! We'll be right behind you!" Millard urged, shoving his friend through. Even he could see the wight now, almost hear his cackle when the figure threw his head back laughing. "We've found the healer we need, and a few gifts along with it too, it seems." That sneer brought chills up Millard's spine, the memories he was none too fond of resurfacing with the oily tone so reminiscent their guardian's sadistic and power-hungry brother, Caul.
"Where do you think you're going children? Caul will be pleased with my haul. Stay right where you are!"
"You must think we're demented. Don't worry, all will be over in a couple of days, just you wait and see!" Millard yelled back, turning to face the wight now that he had landed, making full sure that he covered Imogen's body behind him. He scowled as the two thumps behind the wight signified the arrival of hollows.
"Invisible, are you? You'd be useful to add to our collection. And what about that little lady there? What is she holding?"
"None of your bloody business." Millard spat, and hissed at the girl behind him. "Go, go on. I'll handle this."
"No, not without you." she retorted with equal fervor, making Millard curse her stubborn nature. Before he could even stop her, she sidestepped the floating sweater and shorts that shielded her from the wight and gave a full glare at the empty look the other threw at her. "Wrong timing, mister. All that you know and are familiar with will be gone in a few days."
"What do you mean, you little wench? Caul's plan is flawless, and with the help of Jacob Portman, we'll be invincible. Peculiar's can finally take our rightful place as the more superior race!"
"But the world doesn't tilt that way, you power-hungry creatures. Besides, the rest of us never even asked for ruling the world. Don't group us peculiars with your twisted needs." Millard growled back.
"Why you little-" he whipped out a shotgun, to which Imogen immediately pushed Millard back towards the sketch she had laid carefully on the ground. The sudden movement shocked Millard, making the peculiar fall just as a shot rang out. "Gen!"
It was like watching in slow motion as he fell. Just as the warmth of the portal engulfed him, the girl jerked as if punched from the back. Instinctively, Millard reached out to her as he fell, managing to grab her by the waist just as she twisted her own body and grabbed at the edges of the portal. Her fingers ripped the paper on its surface, sealing the way to the 1940s before they both fell with a thud back in the present, the warm afternoon air and chirp of birds a facade to what had happened just seconds before.
The fall jostled Millard's senses for a brief second, but his arms never left the weight on his body. It took awhile for his head to clear, but when it finally did, he cleared his vision to find gaping mouths and wide eyed stares at him. "What?"
"Who… Wait, I know those clothes." Jacob paused, with a surprised Olive standing next to him, before he blinked and gasped. "Millard?!"
"Oh my goodness, is that really you, Millard?!" It was Bronwyn's turned to gasp now, and Olive squeaked, stepping closer as if to examine him. But their shock was pushed by the wayside as his conscious cleared and he began to realize that a pool of liquid warmth was gathering on his chest.
Hurriedly sitting up, the male shifted the slight sized, unconscious female in his arms, and chest pounded painfully when he recognized the crimson pool staining his arm, his fingers where it touched, and the rapidly paling skin of Imogen's closed features. She had been shot in the back, just before she closed the portal, and the blood was rapidly draining out of her.