MPHFPC one-shots

Bronwyn

A/N: Heyyy, guys! So, I do not have the virus but I do still feel like crap, so I watched the movie and this came into my head and I wanted to write it, so here I am :) Thank you all so much for your kind comments and all of you wishing me well, I really appreciate it and after reading it, I had the biggest smile on my face☺️

Anyways....

Summary: What if Olive had been unable to save Bronwyn from the ice in time and Bronwyn had been unable to break free?

Just a little short thing I came up with after watching the movie again.

Warning for character death and grieving.

MOVIEVERSE

No one knew what to say. That much was obvious by the way their jaws felt wired shut and their postures tense.

The patter of a trio of small shoes met Enoch's ears and he turned slightly, away from the not right sight on the floor. He saw Claire and the Twins hurrying over to them all. He noticed the worried look on Claire's face and could practically feel the nervous energy emanating from the Twins.

Before they could reach what- who- he and the others had gathered around, he managed to grab Claire's arm and pull her towards himself. After losing their house and the fear of Miss P giving herself up for them, he knew she and the Twins wouldn't be able to take it.

The feeling of moisture on his cheek alerted him and he reached up a trembling hand to dab at it. The liquid was clear, but he had no effort left to wipe the tears away so he let them fall. Bronwyn deserved it.

Beside him, he noticed Olive fall to her knees from his peripheral. Her shoulders shook and her gloved hands covered her mouth.

Muffled words were said, but he couldn't make most of them out. What he did understand was her apologising and blaming herself.

With Claire still clinging to his waist, he knelt beside Olive and enveloped her too.

"It wasn't your fault," he told her, though she shook her head and didn't respond, "I mean it. You did what you could and Bronwyn know- knew that."

He cast the dirtiest look he could to the wight sprawled off to the right, unconscious. If he weren't a better person, he would cut the filthy man open and take out his heart. Keep it in a jar on a shelf for the next time he rose an army of the dead.

Unfortunately, he was a better man.

"Guys, we've got Miss P! Let's go!"

Jake's voice travelled through the spacious room and met his ears. Enoch shook his head dejectedly and settled his eyes on Bronwyn. Still soaking wet from when the wight had trapped her under a thick layer of ice. Not even her strength could break through it, not under water with such limited breath.

Throwing punches was hard enough at such a young age with no experience in fighting, but under such a large body of water, he imagined it had been made near impossible for the girl to punch her way out.

She had only made a few cracks before Olive had tried to free her only to be frozen herself by the wight. In all the commotion from there and waking Olive, Enoch had almost forgotten Bronwyn was under the ice if Hugh hadn't spotted her and informed him.

Together, he and the others including Olive, managed to break through the ice and rescue Bronwyn.

But it was too late.

Between the arctic temperature and the lack of oxygen, her young lungs had been unable to take it and had given out. Her heart had followed suit mere minutes later.

Enoch had been the one to close her eyes. He couldn't stand there and look into those innocent eyes after her untimely death at the hands of a monster. Sometimes Enoch felt like a monster. He'd been unable to save Victor, and now he'd lost Bronwyn too.

"Guys, what are you doing? We have to go," Jacob came running up to them. Not far behind him were Emma and Miss P.

Glancing up, Enoch noticed Miss P looked just as awful as Enoch felt. Her hair was loose, no longer pinned up in its usual tidy way. She was nursing her right arm, and Enoch could see a dark patch where blood had soaked her jacket.

"Bronwyn," Emma gasped, covering her mouth.

Jake's eyes widened in shock and his arms fell loose, his grip on the cross bow faltering. If it weren't for the fact that there was an arrow loaded, Enoch was sure Jake would have let it fall to the floor with a clatter.

"No," Miss Peregrine whispered.

Enoch reluctantly let his eyes fall back onto her and suddenly wished he hadn't. Her face was, to say the least, broken. And so was her heart, Enoch could tell just by looking at her.

All of their hearts were broken, he knew, but neither of them would ever know the loss of a child. What it felt like to raise someone, to kiss away their worries and pains, to make them laugh, only to lose them. In fact, no one should have to know the loss of a child. No one should have to outlive their child. Twice.

In a fall that would definitely bruise, Miss Peregrine fell to the floor next to Bronwyn with a broken sob.

"No, no, no, no!" She whined, all the while gathering Bronwyn in her arms, uncaring of the cold water still clinging to the girl's clothes.

Enoch finally allowed himself to fall onto his bum, incidentally taking Claire with him, and put his head into the palm of his free hand. His shoulders wracked with his own cries, and his jumper was quickly getting soaked with Claire's tears.

"No!"

Enoch covered Claire's ear, removing his hand from his face, and pressed her into his chest to block out the noise of Miss Peregrine's mourning.

He chanced a glance and wished he hadn't.

He did believe Miss P had finally broken.