Request: I have a request idea of a relationship between fem!R and dark!movie!Miss Peregrine ... emphasis on dark... Reader is a fresh(ish) peculiar in her home, someone who Miss Peregrine has already become attached to and loves. However, R is quite independent and kind of detests her protection and care - perhaps because of past relationships or issues - which Miss P seems so insistent on providing. (There's a mutual dislike for each other: R at Miss P for her motherly nature and Miss P at R for rejecting this). So R sets out to leave the loop as soon as possible without telling anybody - maybe during a time she knows miss peregrine will be busy/occupied. However, Miss P being the all-knowing and attentive woman that she is, senses something is off and excuses herself to go out and seek R. She finds R on their way to the cairn manipulation ensues and Miss P has her not-so-moral methods to get R back to where she belongs. But R will not come easily!! I feel it'd be cool to control metal. Perhaps lock doors without a key melt or solidify metal, shape it into weapons we could move Alma's stopwatch. I feel it takes a lot of concentration - so a mind clouded with fear or anger or intense emotions may hinder the ability?
The sun shone bright every day. It wasn't until after sunset that rain clouds gathered and it was only on the night of September 3rd. Once the night reset, it was cool enough for wet hair to give someone a cold. And since it had rained, they were all ushered inside. Every day was the same. Everyone had chores. Millard stole enough milk for the kids who would want some throughout the day, Fiona grew all of the herbs and plants they ate and a few they didn't, and you cleaned Enoch's tools and de-rusted all of the plumbing. You halfway thought the kids only liked you because of how efficient the toilets worked since you began your chore.
You manipulated metal in every sense of the word. You could move it, purify it, and shape it with a great deal of concentration. More often than not, you ended up tired and accidentally hurting someone. It felt useless as far as chores went and you'd yet to find a use for it otherwise. Still, you tried to practice. Once you got the chore down, you could do it all at once which was a sort of practice itself. It took a little less energy to do the same task each time. But it was headachey to be constantly surrounded by proof you were a pariah as far as society was concerned, that you would never live a normal life so you didn't always want to practice your Peculiarity. Sometimes, you played with the kids. Others, you'd go into town. Sometimes, you left the Loop to call home or check the mail, or - hell - just visit the mainland. The Headmistress didn't like that, but you were grown.
Mastering your ability was still priority, though, so you spent a great deal of time in your room. You were on the higher spire of the house, a room with slanted ceilings, but you'd survived far more dire straits. So you used your space, lifting every bit of metal in your room to fill the space. They were drawn closer together, merging where possible. Some pieces merged where they really shouldn't and it was like one of those ole' challenges.
"That's remarkable," came a breathy comment.
You jumped in surprise, losing enough focus that you dropped your remarkable masterpiece. You turned and looked over your shoulder. Headmistress Peregrine stood in the doorway, watching subtly. You got nervous around the Ymbryne and not just because she was like the principal. She was drop-dead gorgeous and she cared so, but you were just another Ward to her.
Only, you weren't. Alma didn't find you; you found the loop by accident, like fate. And you weren't underage. You were naive of their ways, but you knew the world and the weight of it. You loved her children, but had yet to love yourself all the while still discovering yourself. You were just Alma's type; someone who could help yet needed it. "You should practice downstairs. The kids would love to see every stage of discovery."
You put your hands in your lap, looking caught. "That's alright," you replied lightly, though your chest felt heavier. You tended to hurt others on accident when you lost control and you'd rather not accidentally slice open an eighty-year-old preteen. You pried the objects back apart and put them in their rightful places.
Alma nodded, but maintained a concerned expression. "Lunch is ready," she informed with a smile.
You nodded, facing the window. You weren't hungry, rather fancying a jog around 1943 Cairnholm.
Miss Peregrine called your name scoldingly. You looked back at her. "Come downstairs and eat. I'll not have you starving yourself." As if that were even possible with her divine cooking and her attentive care.
When you went to argue, Miss Peregrine delivered a glare that intimidated you into standing. Her stern demeanor faded once you were on the steps and she even lovingly held a hand on your back. It unsettled you but only because you knew you really oughtn't react, but you couldn't stop your shiver. Alma delighted in it as you stepped onto the ground floor. You sat in the only open seat, beside Enoch, and dinner was served. It was a simple yet delectable meal, though you were miles away while you nibbled. You were ever so grateful to Miss Peregrine for opening your eyes and showing you who you were. You had always hoped magic was real, while living like that was impossible. Now, you knew it was real and it was all thanks to a bird you'd stumbled on. Unfortunately, it seemed to have gone downhill from there. You had stayed to gain a better understanding of yourself and you'd grown to love the children. But you still had a life to get back to. And you refused to pay another month's rent for an bedroom you weren't even in.
You'd have to speak with Alma in private. You dreaded being alone with her. She was a lovely woman, but you never knew what was out of line or inappropriate. You came from completely different times! Luckily, it seemed you'd help her with the dishes so that gave you the perfect opening. You were gathering plates before Alma even said your name, so you missed the pleased yet... possessive look she gave you. The soapy sink was nearly full when you approached, but you still put the dishes on the counter, using your dirty fork to scrape off the scraps. Ironically, your plate held the most uneaten food.
Alma stared disapprovingly.
You just shrugged. "I wasn't hungry." You stepped over to the suddy water, but she held a hand in front of yours to keep you from wetting them. You turned to her.
"Can you wash without your hands?" she asked teasingly.
You looked at the sink in contemplation. "The silverware at most."
She nodded in excitement toward the dishes. She was practically bouncing. It was a little cute.
The flatwear did indeed fly to the sink, dunking in the water and swishing around in there, but when you inspected it, you found grime remaining. You bent the metal just enough to 'shake it off' before submerging again. Eventually, you just grabbed the sponge. "Evidently not," you answered, setting to work. Alma rinsed. You felt uncertainty try to talk you out of this conversation, but you pressed on. "Miss," you called, hoping your tone was light enough that she suspected nothing. She was terribly clever when she wanted to be. She hummed in acknowledgement. You didn't know where to start so you stopped cleaning. "Thank you, for telling me who I am- what I am. About the dangers and possibilities."
Once you'd started, a depressed expression folded her face. But, at hearing 'possibilities', she felt hope. She was your best option. Her Home could be yours, if you just chose right.
"But rent's coming due and I have to get back to work."
The hope shattered. Alma tried her best to hold back the expression of all her emotions. That was the other big option. Normal or loop life. It seemed you'd made your choice.
"I really wish I didn't have to. Maybe I can come back on vacations if my devil of a boss will let me."
That was quite a lot of curious statements and Alma tried to determine the hidden meanings. She quickly came to the realization that it meant you were under the cruel, normal impression that your responsibilities were mandatory. Now, she respected that, but a job was not a calling. She'd been called to serve the young and you'd willingly come to her. "Why do you have to?" she asked, she hoped neutrally.
You handed her a glass to rinse. "What?"
Setting the clean dishes on a towel, Alma stepped into your space. "Why... do you have to return to the Normal world?" It wasn't a complicated question.
But you still struggled to answer. Yes because you hated your job and Normal life was a daily struggle, but mainly due to her strong presence. You didn't know if it was an Ymbryne thing or a Peculiar adult thing, but Alma always made her presence felt. And right now, towering over you, it brought back some bad memories. For someone to go from so cheery to sad and now calculatingly bold, it felt very manipulative. Sure, one had to control their emotions to work with children, but this felt more extreme. But tears built in your eyes as you remembered them all, standing over you about to hit. You remembered needing to get their permission to do anything. And leaving wasn't an option.
Concern painted Alma's features, a hand instinctively raising to wipe the wetness away.
You turned away before she could - you didn't even know why - and left the room. You didn't expect her to follow, calling your name. When she had your wrist, your fear snowballed. You half-turned to her. "I'm... fine. I just need a minute. Are we done cleaning?" You knew you were, but the confirmation would be permission to leave.
"I can help-" She took your shoulders, unintentionally, you hoped, controlling your actions and triggering you further.
You shook off her hold, backing away from her. "I don't want your help. I can do this."
"You don't have to be alone-"
At this point, you were both running on desperate emotions and so you were finishing and cutting off each others' comments. You very suddenly raced out the front door, done talking. You tried to close and lock the door on her, but the doorknob just melted. You finally got your run around the island, a blue bird overhead. You were just beginning your second lap when you made a sudden detour.
Blue wings flapped to beat you there. She knew where you were going, of course as this was her island, and it was awfully soon after the conversation that you were trying to have. You didn't even say goodbye, though she supposed she'd cut that off. She was quite a bit ahead of you when she landed but you caught up quick. She caught you by the hands and you nearly crashed into her, breathing hard.
You backed away again, but didn't take off. Leaning against a tree, you turned your head in the direction of the cave.
"Talk to me," Alma ordered sympathetically.
You shook your head, unwilling to even if you were breathing properly.
"Because you cried? Family sees more than tears, dear." She already considered herself and her wards your family, showing how deluded she was. But she was determined. If you went out into the world as you were now, you could lose control over your peculiarities at the worst moment and that was the best case scenario. But if you stayed, the only outcome Alma could see was you accepting your home by the time you'd mastered your ability. So why leave before you were ready? The woman stepped closer to you again, only open understanding on her face this time. "Who hurt you?"
Tears didn't build. By the time you'd moved your eyes to hers, they were flowing down your face, parting like the Red Sea around your gasps.
Alma felt it second-hand and she brought you into her arms. "Who was it?" she encouraged you gently.
You hid in her jacket, feeling foolish despite the fact that everyone cried, at every age. "He... wouldn't let me leave," was all you managed to gasp out before trying to pull away again.
Well, that wouldn't do. Some man abusing you and the love you had. And it didn't help Alma who was trying to keep you. "Come back home. We can go over it and I can help you."
"The only help I need is to know I can come and go as I please." You put your hands on her biceps to keep her back. "Please just let me go."
"Please stay," Alma heard herself beg. "No one will hurt you; no one can find you here. I love you."
That was an alarming confession. Knowing each other for less than 30 days and to say that? She was either super emotional or super clingy. "You share so many traits," you laughed out.
Alma frowned at what she perceived as an accusation. She made a split-second decision and reached into her hair. As with every transformation, a few feathers lingered in her locks. She pulled it free, accidentally - but planning to - distracting you. As you flinched away in confusion, the Ymbryne managed to distract you, dusting over your nose. You looked like you wanted to say something, but Alma knew you couldn't. She saw your pupils dilate and your jaw slacken. She stepped back into your space, grateful when you didn't pull away from her. Not that it was your choice. "What was his name?" Alma asked, wanting to fully eradicate your domestic abuser from your memory.
"Who?" you asked back in a voice so empty it couldn't be yours.
Alma smiled. An even better reaction than she was expecting. Usually, so vague an idea of the object of the memory wipe meant the object was only half gone. A trace of memory of the conversation or the wipe would stick and the whole memory would come flooding back. A gentle touch to your chin made you look at Alma. "Now, we're going back to the house and you're going to consider staying with us forever. You'll think on it seriously. Put aside your pride and trust me. And start telling me about your past." She looked you over, decided whether or not to do it. She hunched down a bit, shocking your system with a kiss.
*
You laid on your back beside your Ymbryne, in her bed, telling her all about you. You started with your shitty mother, using drugs and locking you in the closet when you protested anything. Then came a spark of light in the form of your High School girlfriend, but she moved away for college. Then came a series of dark lovers who cared more for what they wanted than anything to do with you. And you'd suffered through it until you clawed your way to freedom, got a job, blended in. And then you went on vacation to a nothing island where no one would find you. I was just a broad outline of your timeline, but it was enough for Alma.
The two of you felt as if you were in your own world, a half-truth, until the haze fully left your brain. You turned your face from her, trying to adapt to all the changes made in your mind. A yawn split your face and you slowly sat up. "I'm exhausted. Didn't even do anything today."
Alma smiled faintly and laid her hand on your back. "Get some sleep. We can talk more later."
You hardly considered the order before obeying, yawning again. It was after reset after all; you fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow, your legs burning something awful like you'd been running a long time.
The same beautiful sun rose every day, but the one which woke you seemed to glitter rather than beating down. It felt like potential, not a prison. Why was that unusual?
You didn't bother getting dressed yet, walking down the stairs in a loose robe. You felt like something had changed as sensing the metal you had to purify came as easily to you as walking. Someone had to teach you that too. But your Peculiar chore was done before you reached the dining room. Most of the children were up only Enoch and Millard missing. You hoped the invisible boy wasn't in the seat you were about to take between Horace and the Twins. It was free and you piled your plate with whatever you wanted. Miss Peregrine always had such an impressive spread. Once it passed 8:30, they were all released from the table.
Until Claire called up to the head of the table. "Miss Peregrine!"
"Polite persons do not shout when the one they're speaking to are two feet away," Miss Peregrine explained, gathering plates.
You stood to do the same.
"Can we go to the beach after our chores? Please, we haven't been in ages!" she tried to persuade her Headmistress.
"Why are you cleaning? It's Enoch's turn," Hugh asked, earning a glare from the deadriser.
You looked over at him with a kind expression. "No, he goes after me and it's been about a week since I had 'em."
"I think that's a lovely idea, Claire. Best go pick up the sun room," she prompted. September 2nd had been an eventful day all around, and toys were strewn about in the Sun Room, the safest room in the house, not collected until after breakfast. None of the little ones who helped make the mess could play until Claire took care of her only chore.
In the kitchen, you and Alma took the plates to the sink. The metal knob spun itself to turn on, but Alma used her hand to turn it off. "He's right, you know. We did the dishes yesterday."
Watching her turn the faucet off triggered some sort of Déjà vu and you believed her. "I washed the silverware."
Alma smiled with a nod. "Yes."
You touched your temple, broadcasting your tumultuous mind.
"We all get our days a little mixed up sometimes." She didn't dare mention that it meant you were becoming part of the family for fear it would remind you that you weren't permanent yet. Alma still had a long way to go before you were in the realm of staying, not that she knew just how or had done this before. When everyone else agreed to let her care for them, they'd been fully cognizant. "You should hurry along to Enoch's lab. Any chores not bound to the clock will be done in 17 minutes and 25 seconds." She steadily pushed you from the kitchen.
"I did all my metalwork," you argued.
Alma didn't want to doubt you, as you'd never been a liar, but you'd looked like you could barely hold a thought when you first came downstairs. To imagine you fixing the metal by instinct... warmed her heart. "Then go get changed. We leave at 9:30 sharp."
You nodded then wandered to your room. You had only packed a single swimsuit, having never imagined staying so long and it remaining so warm and beautiful. You'd never imagined this wonderland. Back in the foyer, you helped Claire put the finishing touches on her bathing suit. She wouldn't go out very far, so looking pretty was the goal. Millard was only showing by his swimtrunks. Even the pale Enoch was decked out in swimwear.
The walk down was peaceful enough, though chatty. The children were chittering over the top of each other, Bronwyn and Claire hanging off your arms, explaining how amazing it was, and how empty. It was nice they had their own beach, and it was very nice weather. So after 20 minutes battling both the waves and the romping kids, you retreated to the shore.
Miss Peregrine had set up a blanket and laid out towels. You took one and dried as best you could. You sat beside the Headmistress. She'd been watching you all, carefully from the shore, but now, she only had eyes for you. There were so many ways you could react to what Alma had done: full-blown amnesia or seizures, random irritation or serious anger issues. But you showed no signs of being affected besides forgetting your plan to leave.
"Those Germans chose a lovely day for you, Miss Peregrine."
A twisted smile donned the Ymbryne's face and she bowed her head to show her appreciation, also twisted. "What do you think of our little Home?" she asked finally.
"Sometimes, I wonder if I'm dreaming."
Alma showed more teeth with her next grin. "I assure you, this could be your reality."
You felt the impulse to argue, deny her, but you weren't sure why. You trusted Miss Peregrine. You ran the towel through your hair, mostly to stall from responding. Also, luckily, Emma came over, bored with being unable to swim with the others. The three of you bonded easily and she was a welcome distraction to your conflicting feelings. They shouldn't have been, but the thought of staying gave you the shivers, and not the good kind. You smiled through the interaction, your mind in a whole other place.
You and Alma ended up carrying one of the Twins home while Bronwyn carried little Claire. The Ymbryne moved in unison with you to tuck in the little boys. You stepped back to take in your work, tensing when a hand on your back. You looked over your shoulder at the woman trying so hard. She didn't even have to try, having to hold herself back, in fact. "Would you like a nightcap?" she offered, knowing the kids would be exhausted and were likely already asleep.
You nodded slowly, despite yourself. It was worth it to see that smile. You ventured back downstairs together, sitting together at the table. You awed that Alma even owned alcohol, sipping the cinnamon drink.
"You never truly answered what you thought about the Home."
You met her gaze which was fueled by the embers of a thousand flames. She needed this answer. You set your cup down, facing her fully. "You know your Home - this Loop - is a marvel. I don't know how you don't shout it from the rooftops." That earned a light blush. "And who you keep from going mad - the true miracle. You're amazing, Miss Peregrine, and so is all you do." Even with all the anxiety and doubt you felt toward the striking woman, you felt all you'd just said. It was terribly confusing.
Alma softened, the fire lowered to a simmer, still intense but less urgent. "Call me Alma," she insisted in a gentle whisper. A navy taloned, pale hand reached across the table and set on yours. Those midnight eyes poured emotions into yours. Her hand left yours in an instant, and it hovered in the space between you both. After a sufficient time thinking, the tips of both her nails and fingers touched under your chin, lifting them. she stared at you and likewise, both of you feeling a communication that needed no words. The energy between you was heady and you needed no request for the woman to fulfill what you were both thinking about. Alma captured your lips in hers. It was like time stopped and perhaps it did, if the Ymbryne was half as affected as you. It was a sweet one, even if your feelings made it hella dizzying.
When she pulled back, it appeared Alma was affected just the same. "We should discuss this," she commanded. For the rest of the night, you two talked - though not about your relationship. You spoke on everything under the sun, broken up by whole makeout sessions. Eventually, the sun rose and you both set about the morning routine. Breakfast was made in record time and you thought you were being subtle. But the kids knew of course. They could see the brightness in her smiles brighter and freer since your arrival. Their Ymbryne touched them more, kind as ever, but it was the changes that registered. You were unknowingly cementing your place among them. You were expanding paradise.
You slept in the guest room that night, tired from all the not sleeping. Little did you know, you had a visitor. Alma stood in the doorway to your room for an inordinate amount of time. She stared at your vulnerable state before her resolve broke. She joined you in the bed.
Alma took your hands, watching the memories she knew still haunted you be fluttered away, as if on a bird's back.
Another abusive lover swept from your mind, not to mention the job which had done nothing to protect you. You'd met him through work - the job you still held - and his subtle manipulations mirrored hers too much. The isolation, he even seemed to truly care for you. But he did it wrong. He laid a hand on you. Alma didn't need you thinking she'd do the same.
And so went your roots to the outside world. You didn't remember you had a job; you didn't have anything to do with your family. Who knows how long you survived the real world, but you're safe now! When she used her feather to end the session, your sneeze woke you up, thank goodness. She didn't want to do it. "I've changed the linens. Come back to bed."
Your fragile brain took that excuse as to why you were in the guest room, and it used the suggestion to trick you into thinking you were Alma's longtime girlfriend. You obeyed, to Alma's delight. You yawned, but followed.
*
Every time you watched Alma get ready for the day it left you breathless. It felt like the first time you'd seen her without makeup, but of course you'd seen it before. Of course you had. And the sleepy kisses were divine. Watching pale flesh become porcelain felt like an honor. You witnessed her don her signature colors, slowly transforming into the venerable Headmistress. But she wasn't there yet, blazer and pocketwatch, shoes and hairpins still missing. It was the most beautiful, domestic image you'd ever seen and you wanted it photographed.
Lacking the equipment to do so, you drew it out as long as you could. The white fabric of her blouse scooped low as she reached for her watch. It slid just beyond where she set her fingers down. Something in her twitched and her eyes jerked over to you briefly. She reached again, fingers curled to scoop it up. The watch slid backwards again, but it crossed the edge of the desk yet it maintained the lying-down position. Alma crooned your name, wondering how she wasn't supposed to know this was you.
You fake snored.
"Oh, is that how we do now? Distract then fake?!" The ravenette pounced on you, fingers digging into your sides. You broke character then burst out laughing. You wiggled and writhed under Alma, trying to escape, but Alma was too smart. She eventually released you of her own free will, but hovered over you. "Breakfast," she commanded, eyeing your lips.
You nodded, trying to find motivation just as she was. "Breakfast," you repeated her. You got dressed in far less time than Alma, not nearly as bad of a perfectionist, and you went downstairs together, Alma's arm around your waist. It was a well-oiled machine, practiced for - how long had you been there now? It was like heaven; time had no meaning.But it did outside of here; you couldn't just disappear.
Alma called you back to the task with your name, expressing concern. But you shook it off and went back to cooking. The rest of the morning went well, children playing together. It was what Alma wanted always and now she could watch with her arm around you. Everything was perfect.
"I was thinking about heading out to get the mail," you whispered to the other woman.
To the Ymbryne, it felt like her heart stopped. After all of her memory wiping and effort, you still felt the impulse and wanted to exercise your right to leave. She slowly faced you, holding your face. She very gingerly kissed you, taking your breath. She pulled back and stared very lovingly into your eyes. "No," she said simply.
Alma watched the confusion and hurt twist your features until what she said sunk in. "What?" you were an inch from shouting.
Chilled fingertips traced down your face, claws scratching when she moved her hand so low. "You stay here. With me. Forever. I'll get the mail because it does need to be checked, but I don't want you out in real time until everyone you encountered on the island has passed."
Your jaw fell slack.
"It's not safe."
"I'm not-"
Alma knew everything so it made sense she anticipated an argument you couldn't remember having before. "You are staying. Forever. You promised!" She buried her face in your top. It hardly mattered if you truly had or not. You would, one day.
You wrapped the woman up in your arms, holding her close. You knew her brothers and losing the Wards that she had had screwed her up and you were sure reliving the same day, the same kills, and no growth only made it worse. So you just held the worried woman. "I'm not going anywhere. But I have to check if my roommate mailed. She was one of the only people in the Normal world to help me. Goodness only knows why after so many months without me helping with rent. She deserves this."
So, you had another connection to Normals, but you'd never had more than two nice words to say about her. Altering your memory must have forced you to jump some conclusions. But the root was still you wanted to leave and felt you had to. She would have to work on that with you. "You don't." Well, you'd have to find out eventually. "You just think you do because you have a big heart, and missing memories." Perhaps revealing how much she truly loved you would help you understand.
You were of course enraged that she was messing with your mind. You felt the very strong urge to hit her, not that you would ever oblige. You felt all the trust sapped from you in a moment. If she claimed to love you, what traumas could she have taken from you? Could she give you new, fake memories? Were your parents really abusive and absent? Had you ever been paranoid like now? Were you always as alone as you felt just then?
"Please! Calm down," Alma tried to persuade you. She made the strong eye-contact, willing the argument to fade from your mind. And while she was at it, she wanted that roommate gone too.
You turned away from her. "Calm- I don't believe you! You crack someone's life apart and seek tranquility?!"
Alma was stunned her trick didn't work. You were too worked up.
"You deserve to have your little house torn apart, as it's obviously glued together by a master scum manipulator."
The Ymbryne had sensed the presence, but hadn't been able to do anything about it until she heard the disembodied gasp. She clapped her hands over your mouth, pulling you upstairs with great effort. You were still arguing, fighting now spewing profanities and always making for the exit. Alma managed to force you into her room, locking it with her key.
You opened a window and went to climb out it.
Alma pulled you back in by your shirt. "No!" she finally shouted in response. She pulled you in the direction of her bed and the momentum landed you on it. Alma was on top in a heartbeat, pushing you down and holding your hands. "I never expected to do this. You were the sweetest thing wandering into my loop, all naive."
"How can I believe anything you say?"
"Your life before here was wretched you were always on guard, overtired, and alone. I just wanted to ease that. And I am! You just have to keep trusting me!"
"Keep?! You! Get off!" you demanded, kicking your feet in discomfort, pushing her away as best you could.
Alma's pocket watch flew from her pocket, but there was no direction. Looking around, the Ymbryne saw everything metal reacting though it was listless. Obviously, you were going haywire, but your power couldn't do anything about it. But she obliged, blocking the exit. "Until you are stable, you're not to leave this room. And you're not to have contact with the children."
"I want nothing to do with your Home! Or your children!"
Alma set her jaw, leaving the rooms. She locked the door with a key and trusted you wouldn't jump out the window. Doing so would only get you injured, as you were on the 2nd floor, and then Alma could nurse you back to health. Heading down the stairs, she ignored the sounds of you trying to break down her door. She had to do damage control. She found all of the children on the grass beneath the falcon topiary. And she even saw the flat grass where Millard was sitting. She sat among them.
The saddened Bronwyn didn't wait for the question. "Why doesn't Miss like us anymore?"
The question itself, the expression on her face was heartbreaking as it was irritating - at Millard. "Oh... my girl... Our newest friend is just struggling with what we all did. She's just trying to see where her place is."
Hugh raised both of his arms up. "Here!" he answered as if for you.
Alma smirked, holding his face. "Yes," she whispered. "I'll ask you all not to hold what she said against her; she didn't mean it." When she returned to her room, the banging had stopped. It had for a while; thank God the kids had the peace to eat. Perhaps you'd lost enough power that she could end the argument early. But, no, your determination had just forged a new plan. Three blankets tied together would get you low enough to safely fall. With a sigh Alma set down the food she'd brought up, with just a spoon just to be on the safe side. As the older Peculiar neared your escape route, you backed away. You didn't trust either of you in close proximity. Alma untied the blankets and put them back where they went. She hoped you'd use the time to eat, never wishing you to starve.
But no. You sat on the other side of the room, dark distrustful eyes boring a hole into her. But the Ymbryne just got ready for bed, occasionally giving you a look. She wanted to know exactly what you were thinking, how to fix it, and most importantly - she wanted you to go to sleep beside her. But you'd refuse, paranoid. Yes, the second you fell asleep, she would fix your little disagreement. But it was for you. She stayed awake as long as she could, trying to outlast you, and she'd awoken several times in the middle of the night. Each time, you were awake, glaring at her. But you didn't hurt her, no matter how much you wanted to. The sun rose and, like usual, there was no change. You were still scared, and pissed, the food was still there untouched, and it looked like you hadn't moved. Alma sat up in her bed, staring pityingly at you. "Are you calm?" she asked, hoping exhaustion had softened your anger.
"Find out," you commanded through gritted teeth. That answered that. With how practiced and at ease she was with your aggression, you couldn't help but wonder if you'd been in this situation with her before. Alma went about her morning, locking the door again. This time, you made no noise as if that would prevent her from knowing when you were plotting. She left the children to eat and took you a plate. You threw it at her head.
So, after another day spent with you "grounded", Alma returned again to the room to find various metal implements melted onto the flooring. You had obviously failed to get a grip on yourself enough to free yourself, despite trying. You sat on the floor, head leaning on the seat of her vanity.
With a cooing sigh, Alma made her way to you. But once you saw the Ymbryne, passions started running high again. You tried to shove her away from you, ignoring her exasperated tut. Soon and fast, she'd tied your hands together - in front of you - with a rope. "You need water, food, and sleep. And I intend to see to it that you get what you need. This meltdown has lasted long enough." She went to move away, pulling you by your bound wrists. She brought you to the bed and helped you get on. She sat on the opposite side of the bed after gathering what she planned to force you to consume. She eyeballed you pulling at the ropes, unintentionally chaffing yourself. "Not even Bronwyn could break those ropes," Alma promised.
"Tested that, did you?" you hissed almost sarcastically.
"Yes, actually. But unlike with you, she was untied immediately as I knew she wasn't going to hurt me." The woman's retort was quick before she held a cup to your lips, giving you some much needed hydration. You lost your retort and even planned to spit it back onto her, but your sandpaper throat needed it. You drank it dry, ignoring the pleased yet smug expression. When she held fork with food up for you, though, you turned your neck to bite her hand. But the Bird moved faster, dropping to the food to catch your chin. "I am all you have," she reminded you quite harshly.
You frowned at her, unable to tell if that was the truth or just what she wanted you to remember. You turned to sit against the headboard, watching Alma threw away the food.
She returned to the bed once changed and held the end of the rope. "Lay down with me," she requested, though not really.
"No," you answered.
Alma sat back up beside you, a stern set to her face. Normally, you'd have been cowed into obedience, but this wasn't a caretaker having their Ward do what was best for them. This was a person trying to make another person vulnerable to make them into a puppet. She called your name in warning, though it wasn't really a warning.
"You're going to do it again," you were certain. Tears flooded your eyes that refused to meet hers. Your shoulders started shaking and you flinched when she tried to touch your chin. You started crying for real after that, tried to wipe your own face but struggled with your hands bound. You wept in full, unable to fathom how you'd gone from looking up to and crushing on the woman to being afraid to have her touch you. But she did hold you, your hands still bound between you both. You sobbed into her shoulder, terrified she would wipe you any moment and you'd just be confused about your own tears. Would Alma just lie? You didn't remember anything about how or when or even what you'd forgotten and that would likely work against you. If you didn't know how she started, you couldn't stop her. "It's my past," you spoke more. "I lived it, every day, fought tooth and nail for it, and you're just gonna take it." You cried a little softer against her, feeling a leaden weight fill your limbs. You knew you were going to sleep whether you wanted to or not. You rose your eyes to meet hers. "And you drugged the water."
"Just some allergy medication to help you sleep." She patted your hair almost soothingly.
You tried to push her off, angrily growling, "I'm not allergic to anything." But you could feel the rage melting away, pulling your senses too.
Alma took everything in stride, and always made light of serious situations. "Good to know," is all she said as you slipped asleep.
*
Wet lips on your face, all over it, in fact, woke you up and the first noises you made were giggles. Your eyes fluttered open to seek the offender, not noticing the uncomfortable marks on your wrists or the extra soreness in your eyes.
"Good morning, my love," Alma greeted cheerfully. She was so excited you could come back downstairs you'd not be leaving her side all day.
You yawned. "Mornin'." Alma didn't take offense, know you'd been having turbulent sleep. "Mmm. I need a shower," you started listing responsibilities.
But she knew that was right. "I'll make breakfast while you do."
Right on cue, your stomach growled as if it had been weeks since you'd eaten. You both went to work. But simply standing was proving difficult. Your head spun at the slightest movement, body aching from you didn't know what, and you had a migraine. But you pushed through, wanting to see the kids you felt like you hadn't seen in ages.
They were mostly seated at the dining table, the youngests excited like they hadn't seen you in ages.
To your utter surprise, Enoch chose to sit next to you. It was almost like it wasn't unusual until he spoke and it was. "I'm glad you and Miss Peregrine are done fighting."
You frowned in confusion. "Pretty sure I've never so much as disagreed with your Ymbryne."
Enoch didn't frown, but he did narrow his eyes like he was studying you. In the end, he knew what was happening - obviously more than you - and he accepted it with a hum.