A/N: just a tiny request to get at least one more fav/review/follow for this fic because my birthday is on saturday now on to the story

I sat on my bed, awaiting Enoch's arrival. I thought back to what had just happened. A loop reset, to be done at the exact same time every single day. What a hard job Miss Peregrine had, having to make sure she does that at the correct time every day. A second late and we'd all be up on our feet and running away for safety. But it was definitely beautiful, a time lapse of the entire day, but backwards. It was even more mesmerizing than a time lapse of a day forwards. I would give up the clothes that I had just gotten to see that again. "Millard!" I saw Enoch at my door, holding my clothes in the door. "Thanks," I whispered as I grabbed the clothes out of his hands. "No problem," he grinned, blushing a little. I stared at Enoch for a few seconds, Enoch staring right through me, instead. His eyes met mine, and I felt like we were alone, back in the cave, but together. Floating together in the water, right next to each other. "Well," he said, "I'd better go now." I grinned, knowing he wouldn't see. "Of course. Bye then." I said, pulling my shirt over my hand and waving. "Bye," he waved back and dashed back to his room next door. I shut the door and pulled on my clothes.

I realized that whenever I saw Enoch, my heart began to ache just like how it did when I woke up from the nightmare, or when I remembered about the wight. It was shockingly painful, but unlike the other times, I was begging on my knees for more. I loved it. I was addicted to this pounding pain in my chest that happened whenever Enoch talked, whenever he smiled, whenever he blushed. I was practically clawing at the wall that separated us, screaming and pleading for more. Why did I love this so much? Why did I want Enoch so terribly? Why did I feel like I wanted to thank him?

I climbed back into my bed and pulled the covers over myself. I put a hand to my head, the heat of my forehead nearly burning my hand. I shut my eyes, which didn't really help since I could see through them. It was the same as seeing without them closed. I buried my head in my pillow and felt myself drifting off to sleep once again, hopefully until tomorrow this time.

That night I had a dream where I was noticeably younger. Probably just about six years old. I was walking somewhere, my parents holding my hands as we strolled through the city. I didn't question anyone, I simply skipped along with my parents by my side. After a while of touring the area, buying some things at the market, staring at toys in the display at toy shops, we reached home. It wasn't too great of a house, but not too shabby either. My parents let go of my hands and I jumped onto the couch, staring into the furnace. "Millard, don't forget your coat!" My mother's cheerful voice reminded me to take my coat off, which I gladly did as I skipped over and hung on the coat hanger. I didn't even notice I was wearing it until I was told to take it off. Must have been sometime in autumn or winter. I looked back at my parents who were sat in front of the burning furnace. They were doing something with their faces. But I was just a child: I didn't care. I jumped onto my father's lap and we all laughed and smiled. "I love you, Daddy and Mummy!" I laughed in my cheerful young voice before I looked up into my father's eyes. His blank, white eyes. My cheerful smile turned into a gaping mouth of horror as I jumped out of my father's lap.

"Millard!" I heard someone shout. I shot out of bed once again, drenched in sweat. "Millard, are you alright?" I looked up and saw Horace and Bronwyn by my side. "Y-Yes… just another bad dream," I sighed. Horace took a step forward. "Millard, are you alright with sharing it with me?" He asked, "You see, dreams are my peculiarity." I grinned and told him about my dream, how the weather was, what the town was like, and most importantly, that my parents' eyes were blank. When I told him that, Horace was dumbfounded. "Horace, are you alright?" Bronwyn asked. He nodded and walked away to the door. "Millard, if you have the same dream again, or if you see your parents as wights again, please tell me." He said. "But Horace!" I got out of bed, "Can you at least tell me what it meant?" Horace bit his lip, hesitating. He turned around and put his hand on Bronwyn's shoulder. "Wyn, would you mind?" He asked. Bronwyn nodded and left the room, and Horce approached me.

"So, considering that you're an amnesiac," he began, "and that you can barely remember your past, a dream that includes your family might be an indication of your past. That's a good thing, because it means that you're recovering. The bad news is that, since you said that your father had blank eyes…" I already knew what he was going to say. "Millard…" Horace muttered, "your father… there's a chance that he might be—"

"A wight." I finished, biting my lip. If my father was a wight, that would mean that I was at least partially a wight, too. It would mean that Miss Peregrine had welcomed inside her loop what she wanted to keep out of it. I could be a threat to all of these people who have treated me with hospitality and kindness. Enoch. The one who took me to see the loop reset, the beautiful time lapse of the day. The one who let me sleep in his room, his messy and unwelcoming room. The one who Horace said didn't care about anyone. The one whose every word made my heart skip a beat. How would he react if the one whom he was acting so kindly towards was actually a threat, with the potential to kill him?

"Hey, Millard," Horace said, "I know we haven't really been friends for long, in fact, we might just be considered acquaintances. But there's a possibility that this isn't true. You're sick, and this might just be a nightmare based off what happened yesterday, about the wight shooting you. Listen, there's that chance that your father isn't a wight. And even if he is a wight, I doubt Miss P's going to chase you out. And I trust that you're not going to be a threat. And don't worry too much about the others finding out. I'll keep it a secret. And perhaps I'll try and forget about it, if that's what you want. Now let's go. Breakfast is waiting."

I grinned at the little hope that I was clinging to that I was not the child of a wight. I wished so badly that I didn't have that dream. I didn't want it to be real. I thought that coming to this loop might be a good chance to make some friends, some people who wouldn't run away screaming when they meet me. If they end up chasing me out, how would I ever survive? All I wanted was for someone that I could trust, and here there were ten people who fit that perfectly. I didn't want to harm anyone. I never did. I just wanted someone who didn't think I would harm them.

I climbed down the stairs and strolled to the dining room, where everyone, with the exception of Enoch and Victor, were already sat. "Mill!" Hugh greeted and patted the seat next to him, "Come on, sit here with me!" His attitude and wide grin made me forget every thought that just went through my mind and I gladly took a seat. He was chomping down on a slice of toast which seemed to have honey spread on it. "So," he asked, "feeling better?" I nodded. "So much better than last night," I said sarcastically, "fantastic dreams, no headache at all." Hugh frowned. "You better get some rest, mate." He said.

"By the way," Hugh said, "you seen Enoch or Victor anywhere? They're usually the first ones at breakfast, stealing all the food for themselves. Fiona has to grow some fruits super quickly for the rest of us." He laughed and sighed. "I haven't seen them at all," I said, "when I left my room, Enoch's door was closed, so I thought he'd be in his room." Hugh shrugged. "Probably is," he said, "playing around with his dolls again I suppose."

Just when Hugh took another bite of his toast, I heard a loud crash from upstairs. It seemed that I wasn't the only one who heard it, as everyone else also looked up in suspicion. "What in the name of bird was that?" Olive hugged Bronwyn tightly. "Enoch? That you?" Emma called, getting up from her seat. "No need, Miss Bloom." Miss Peregrine stopped her and walked ahead. We all exchanged confused looks before Miss Peregrine returned with a worried expression on her face. "Everyone!" She called, "Search the island for Victor! I shall leave the loop and return in time for the reset. If any of you manage to find him, leave the loop and inform me immediately!"

We all got out of our seats and scattered, abandoning our breakfast. Bronwyn searched inside the house, looking through the rooms and lawn, with Claire and Olive searching with her. Emma and Horace left for the dock, searching the waters for him. Hugh amd Fiona went to town and asked around if anyone had seen him. And I went through the forest, if Victor had gotten himself eaten by a wolf or some other predator. I was afraid of searching on my own, partially because I was still sick, but mostly because of how harmful I might be if I was the one who stumbled upon Victor. Was I going to eat his soul? If so, how? If I really was a wight, I had no idea how to act like one anyways. As I trudged through the forest, I repeatedly heard the crunching of leaves elsewhere in the forest, sometimes nearby, sometimes far away. And then I approached something, no, someone, with what appeared to be a strong, large build. And then I heard one last crunch before it said it.

"Millard?"