Youth - Hollowheart Oneshot - Jake x Enoch

ｈｔｕｏｙ ｄｌｉｗ ｅｈｔ ｅｒａ ｅｗ ，ｓｓｅｌｋｃｅｒ ｅｈｔ ｅｒａ ｅｗ

Dear god.

Jacob's friends lay strewn about in front of him, burnt, bloody, and injured. 

Emma was curled up in a ball, clutching her knees, and refused to respond to even the softest of whispers. Millard, visible only thanks to his shoes and some soot smeared on his face, paced back and forth, muttering. Horace was shellshocked, sitting in the corner next to a sobbing Hugh. The twins were together, obviously, rocking back and forth in sync. Olive cowered in Bronwyn's arms, who wasn't in the best of moods either, with most of the skin on her right side burnt and charred. Fiona was sitting and stroking a chicken she had found earlier, and Miss Peregrine was struggling to comfort Claire, who was wailing from both mouths.

 Worst of all, though, was Enoch. Not his mental state, but his physical condition was the most worrying. He couldn't sit up and refused to open his eyes(or he couldn't, but nobody wanted to face that), and with every noisy wheeze of breath he took in he winced as if it tore his lungs apart to inhale, occasionally even letting out a small whimper. Deeming the antisocial boy's life hopeless, though, nobody seemed to notice this. 

Dear god!

It was his fault. All his fault. He hadn't been there in time. The Hollowgast had arrived, distracting the peculiars when the wights appeared and started firing at random. When they became too overwhelmed they simply set a fire, fled, and let the bomb handle the rest. It was too late to reset the loop, but somehow they had managed to escape alive. 

Barely.

Jacob drew a hand up to his mouth, overwhelmed and not knowing where to start. Most of them weren't badly injured- although Hugh's bees were a bit groggy from the smoke- so surprisingly, he didn't feel himself drawn towards Emma, but Enoch. He was laid down on a soft patch of ashy grass because the house- or what was left of it- was unstable and they couldn't go in to find a cushion or something else suitable.

When he reached the unconscious boy, Jake found himself wondering if it would have made a difference for Enoch to die in the explosion. He watched his shaky chest rise and fall noisily. With every shallow breath came another wheeze and another painful jolt of emotion inside of Jacob's chest. He needed to help and stop staring, he told himself, and so he placed his hands very softly onto his shoulders and shook Enoch gently. The dark-haired boy let out a groan. It was barely audible and little more than the rasps that had just been escaping his lungs, but it still relieved him that he wouldn't remain unconscious, or at the very least, not all the way. He reached out and brushed a curly strand of hair out of his face.

 "Enoch." He said softly, giving him another small shake. Enoch let out a choked cry of some sort and Jake wondered in horror if he had done something wrong before realizing that not only had the fire affected him, but blood was pooling at his side opposite to Jake. A gunshot wound. He stared in horror at the hole in his shirt and nearly was sick. What little hope he had had for his life vanished. He removed his hands from the boy before being stopped by Enoch's own hand grabbing his and weakly tugging it back, resting at his side and holding it tightly. Jacob let him, of course, but was so shocked by this display of affection that his jaw dropped.

And briefly he was back to the weeks before this disaster. Curious about the peculiar boy, Jacob would knock on his door or attempt to make conversation with him. The boy would snap at him to leave him alone, giving him the cold shoulder. Jacob had always assumed that Enoch hated him, but perhaps he had never seen the rosiness within his cheeks when he turned away, or the emotion behind his glaring eyes.

And now he was lying on the ground clutching his hand. Jake was back to the devastated, smoldering present. He gave Enoch's hand a squeeze, comforting him, reassuring him that he was here and he cared.

His eyes, reddened by the smoke, slowly opened. Jake had never been happier to see the deep shade of brown. They widened slightly, flickered down to their locked hands and then back up at Jake. He parted his lips, about to speak when he had a coughing fit.

Jacob winced and waited it out before slipping his other hand onto his back and supporting him slightly. Enoch met his eyes again and he looked away before stuttering out an apology.

"I-I'm sorry, Enoch. I'm so fucking sorry. It's all my fault. I wasn't here. I could've helped... I'm so..." He drew in a shaky breath that he regretted because smoke still hung in the air. "I wasn't here. And I promised I'd arrive by noon! And now you're..." He trailed off, needing to wipe his eyes but didn't dare take a hand away from Enoch as if that would keep him alive longer. He blinked and a few heavy tears fell onto Enoch's chest. This was absolutely hopeless and he had half an hour at the most, but he just wasn't ready to let go. Somehow, without even realizing it, he had grown strongly attached to his fiery personality.

"Wasn't your fault," Enoch rasped. He brought his left hand around to join his right, holding onto Jake and gritting his teeth to suck it up and ignore the pain. Fiery?

"I didn't show up." He bit his lip, determined not to start wailing like a baby. If Enoch could die without shedding a tear he'd go through it the same.

"Y-you didn't know this would happen, love," Enoch croaked in his Scottish accent. "You thought it would just be a normal evening. We all did." His gaze didn't falter once from Jacob's eyes and he seemed rather confident for a dying boy, until more painful coughs raked through him and Jacob squeezed him tighter and let out a single sob. He recited probably 90% of the swear words he knew in his head.

"Jacob..." Enoch said softly when he had recovered. He was staring at his lips now.

"I..." Jake didn't want to guess and make the last thirty minutes of Enoch's life painfully awkward and so he just gazed down at the broken boy until he was reassured by his next action. Enoch brought a single shaky hand away from Jake's to cup his cheek and the boy he adored assisted him by both leaning down and propping him up using his arm.

He could've sworn fireworks filled his head when their lips connected softly, and he didn't feel like he was kneeling in mud mixed with ashes anymore. Sweetness seemed to engulf him entirely and he repositioned himself, struggling to get closer to Enoch. The emotions he hadn't even realized were there began flooding out, and he felt as if he might die from their intensity.

And then his hand fell from his cheek.

His lips fell from Jacob's, and he went limp.