Between Conference of the Birds and Desolations!! Contains spoilers for CoTB, ofc
Also I don't remember if it's explicitly said that Fiona gets a new tongue ( its been a while since I've read Desolations, all apologies) but I do remember her whispering something to Hugh!! So she can speak!! I think!!//
Hughs POV//
" The truth?
" No one knows where birds came from. Everyone knows that bees hate birds, because birds are nasty and gross and one kind starts screaming at the crack of dawn simply because it's vocal cords work and therefore that has to be everyone else's problem. The best way to put it, bees like flowers and good things over those oppressive bird bastards. "
" Famously bad at explaining things as ever, I see."
" That much hasn't changed!" I leaned against Fiona's back, as she worked in the makeshift garden we had in the Acre. It was brilliant having her back, and I felt like no matter what I did, this feeling of relief would never go away. I had her back! And she was okay! Shaken up as all hell and still trying to get used to having a brand new tongue ( Those bone menders are peculiar, that's undeniable.), but back! Her voice was softer than usual, and her accent was off- to be fair, there was a BRAND NEW organ in her mouth- but she spoke and I heard her and on Henry and all my other bees, I had my Fiona back!
She laughed softly, and I leaned further back, draping my head over her shoulder. Her hair, wild as ever and barely contained in a ponytail, danced across my neck and cheek, and she glanced at me by the corner of her eye. Her beautiful fucking eyes, oh, I could never get over them.
Fee was supposed to be resting, but she couldn't stand being in one place for too long. Mainly because everything she grew found its way back to her one way or another, and she was getting annoyed with all the vines growing through the windows at Ditch House. So over the last few days, I had been helping her set up a garden beside the house, not far enough away that it would be a problem should she need to rest again, but enough of a distance to keep Enoch's collection of organs out of her plants.
" Can I get...?" Fiona faintly gestured to my torso, and I knew what she meant. What else would it be?
" Which ones?"
" Haven't you named them yet?"
" I wanted you to." I stood properly, taking my weight off of her back- Fiona was stronger ( and taller.) than me, so my hanging onto her like a lost child hardly bothered her.
" I'll have a proper chance to meet your new friends, then. And name them, of course."
So I let my wonderful little bee friends loose. I had long since grown used to the continuous buzzing in my stomach, but I don't think I'd ever quite adapt to the slight burning sensation that came with them coming up my throat. It was faint, and sometimes they took my voice with them, but it was my peculiarity. These things are never all good.
Fee held her hand out, a couple bees landing on her palm and staring up at her. She was really pretty, and I swear I'm not just saying that because I'm her boyfriend. Her skin was dark, her smile kind, and her eyes full of adoration. She was tall— almost usually so, for a biological woman,— and strong, yet she was as gentle as gentle could be. She and Bronwyn got along well because of their strength— both motherly to different things.
" I think we should name them after plants." She eventually said, setting the bees down on the flowers in her garden.
" Again? Aren't they usually named after plants?"
" Plants are good. I'll think of a few. Come on, let's walk around for a bit so I can think."
We wandered down Louche Lane, a desperate attempt at almost pretending we weren't in the most disgusting loop known to man. There wasn't anywhere particularly nice in the Acre, but Louche Lane is the closest you'll get to civilized around here, so here we were.
Fiona kept bringing up plant names, then shaking her head and mumbling something about how we had already settled on that name before. The newest one we had was " Harwin", and I'm not even sure that's a real name. We eventually settled ourselves outside a pleasant looking cafe- we didn't get anything from it, since all the food in this godforsaken place is rotting and likely poisoned- and I listened to her continue to rake her memory for good plants.
As Fiona was talking, some man was yelling. Not a rare sound, but it almost sounded like he was yelling at us.
Not to be crude, but neither of us would have made it far had we come here when the loop was formed. Fiona being a dark-skinned woman of color with a heavy accent, me being a trans man who looked the part. We wouldn't have made it 10 minutes in this place. Most Peculiar people deal with the shit we do.
Slurs, terrible nicknames, the horrifying ordeal of everyone knowing what you are. Some of us only fear it, the rest of us are stuck living through it.
An old man slammed both hands down on our table, making both of us jump. Fiona stared at him with an annoyed expression, having been cut off mid-sentence. The man wasn't looking at her, though. He was looking at me, and yelling at me.
I admit it. I froze. Shut down. Half the shit he said to me was exactly what I had heard most of my childhood- ever since I had cut all my hair off ( I was 8.) and started refusing to wear dresses. Things I heard when I told my father I didn't feel like his daughter, and instead, his son. Cruel, inhumane, sickening things. Things I never wanted to hear again.
I think I tuned him out until I heard this terrible crack and snapped back to reality. Fiona had slammed her fist directly into the mans nose, effectively shattering it. And she was yelling right back at him, her words mixed together in her anger-fueled rush.
" Fee, wait, it's okay-" I started, standing up ( and hitting my head on the umbrella above me.)
" No. No, Hugh, it isn't! He can't say that shit to you!" Fionas eyes were dark, her voice strained, and her fist poised to hit the bastard again. Honestly, if she didn't, I would.
" We'll face hell from the bird if she hears you hit a dude."
" Miss Peregrine would do worse if she heard what he said to you."
I rounded the table, grabbing onto her arm and starting to drag her away. " Let's just go, okay? Don't give that bastard the time of day."
The man had rolled onto his side, screaming curses into the pavement and holding his broken nose. Way to cause a scene, asshole. He was yelling at Fiona now, saying all kinds of nasty things that made me want to kick him straight in the ugly mug he was stuck with. If anything, I wanted to beat him to a bloody fucking pulp right in the middle of the street, but I doubt that would end well.
I was tall, not strong. And this dude was.... kinda the opposite.
" I see him again and I'll kill him." Fiona mumbled, rubbing her knuckles as I led her away. Her rant on plant names had gone out like a flame under water, somehow being replaced with a collection of insults even Enoch would have found impressive.
We got back to the Ditch House around the same time everyone else returned for lunch. Horace took one look at Fiona's hand- bruising pretty badly now, she hit that dickbag with everything she had- and gagged, then disappearing for the rest of the afternoon. That poor boy couldn't handle any blood.
Ironic, considering how much he hangs around Enoch.
" What did you do?" Emma gasped.
" Nothing that wasn't deserved," I told her. " Where's the bird?"
" She's not back yet."
" Oh, thank god."
" Seriously, Hugh, what happened?"
" Asshole got what he deserved." Fiona said, running her hand under the sink. The water always had a brownish tint to it, so I wasn't really sure cleaning her hand up with that stuff would help at all. " Said a bunch of nasty shit to him. Broke his nose."
" You broke a mans nose?" Emma sounded shocked, if not a little impressed.
" Mmm."
" The bird is gonna wring you by the neck."
" I told her that!" I said with a sigh. " We can't really undo it now, though."
Then the door slammed open, and the sound of prim heels started down the hall, and Emma looked like she was about to pass out. Miss Peregrine entered the kitchen, leaving her coat on the hanger, and met my eyes with the scary mom look.
Oh fuck, not the mom look.
Bronwyn and Enoch trailed behind her, arguing loudly over something stupid. Claire and Olive weren't far behind either, giggling between each other.
" Fiona Frauenfeld." Miss. Peregrine began, and Fee had to look down at her. " Why did I hear, all of 5 minutes ago, that you broke a normal mans nose today?"
Fiona shrugged, drying her hand off.
" It's my fault, Miss Peregrine, really—" I began, but she cut me off.
" You don't need to explain for her, Mr Apiston."
" I-I froze, if I hadn't shut down like I did, she wouldn't have had to hit him, Miss Peregrine—"
" The man said bad things. Cruel things. Not about his peculiarity."
Fiona was starting to talk in short sentences. Her mouth probably hurt. I let her strain herself and I didn't even think about it! I am the worst caretaker ever.
" What kind of things, Miss. Frauenfeld? What kind of things would be deserving of a completely shattered nose?" Miss. Peregrine had sat down at the table, her hands folded together in a way that meant she wasn't really upset, but rather.... irritated.
The four that came in with her hovered in the doorway, silent. Emma looked pale.
" I told you. Bad things."
Miss Peregrine looked at me. " Mr Apiston?"
I took a deep breath. " The kind of things I told you my dad would say. Transphobic stuff, mostly. Some things about my face. Chest too, I think, but I kinda... tuned him out as soon as he started yelling."
" He was yelling at you?"
" Loudly."
" Did you know this man before, Hugh?"
Oh, not the first name. That meant she felt bad for me and I don't like being pitied.
" No, Headmisstress."
Miss Peregrine made a sound that vaugley reminded me of Emma- approving, but not overly so- and stood again. " Well. It seems like he did deserve it, after all. Mr O'Connor, take care of Fionas hand, would you? That water is hardly clean."
Enoch startled. " Me? Why do I have to do it?"
" Because I asked you to. Miss Bruntley, lunch is on me."
Miss. Peregrine went out of the loop and got us sandwiches. Those kinda gourmet kinds, the ones you get to see being made, I think. She didn't bring us with her, but Fiona wouldn't have been able to go anyways. They were good sandwiches too.
Enoch complained about having to bandage Fionas hand— she didn't just bruise her knuckles, she fucking broke the skin??? My girlfriend is strong as fuck and I love her so much— and Horace eventually reappeared at the mention of food.
I missed having lunches like this.
I think Harwin the bee did too.