Narrative: Sam Who: Sam What: Narrative: Door change & aging down Where:Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children When: A.D. (After Daniel), let's say about a week ago Warnings/Rating: Language, as always
She wasn't fucked up when she left Daniel's. She didn't need a hit, and she wasn't falling apart or whatever. She was empty, but she was always empty these days. She didn't really want anything, yeah? Arkham had filled her holes with apathy and survival, and there hadn't been space for shit like dreams or desires. The only thing to yearn for there was daylight, and even that just rolled right into another endless night among murderers and some of the most insane motherfuckers she'd ever known. This Gotham was better, quiet, and even the patients that came through were easier. She held her clipboard, and she watched as they got processed and closed in cells, and it was always a fucking joke to be on the outside looking in at them. She wasn't healthier than anyone in there, and some counseling degree didn't change that. She just knew how to be quiet now. She knew how to melt into the shadows, and she'd never been that kid. Some days, she missed the tomboy with the scuffed knees that hadn't been scared to throw a punch. Some days, she missed the kid that had left everything the fuck behind to shack up with some chick in Vegas. Life had killed that girl, but on some days she missed her.
But she missed other shit more.
She missed the way she related to her family, shattered motherfuckers that they were. She loved every last one of them, but she couldn't dig inside herself and find the girl who could run up and bowl them over with a hug. That girl was MIA, and she didn't know how to be polite with a group of people that shared her blood but didn't get her bullshit.
She missed Neil, and who the fuck knew where he was now. Probably blacked out on some boat, and she didn't know if he dug the girl she'd been or the woman she was now. She didn't think she worked very well this way, not with him. Neil was the picture of apathy, and she'd been nothing but one big fucking push. But these days she couldn't even shove a pebble over, and that shit was a problem. Because she didn't storm her way into whatever fucking door he was in now, and that's the kind of shit he needed.
She was into the anon from the mall because he seemed to take her at face value the way no one else could anymore. Even Lin teetered between hating her and tolerating, and losing her best friend was a pain in the fucking ass. The girl with the gap teeth would have told him that, straight up. She couldn't. And she was tired of everyone in the family fucking worrying about her every second. Yeah, ok, so she'd brought that shit on herself, but she was tired of it. And she had no idea how to face any of them and deal with their exclamations of 'fuck, you're old!'
Yeah, so she didn't go home.
She pushed open doors, but she didn't go into any of them without a long look inside. She didn't want to end up in zombies. She hardly fucking ate these days, and there was no way she could stand up against those things the way she was now. She might've stood a chance before, but no way she could now. As much as she loved Shane, she wasn't falling into his lap and becoming another problem he had to deal with.
Three, maybe four doors in, and she found one that looked interesting. It was a big old house, and there was nothing around it but green, and she thought maybe that was a cliff in the distance. It was pretty in a sad kind of way, and she walked inside and wandered over to that cliffside and sat.
She was so dazed that she didn't even realize she'd changed.
"Who're you?"
The voice came from behind her, and the kid that was standing there when she turned was maybe eighteen. There was something weird about her, but she didn't register right away that the girl wasn't actually standing on the grass. The kid hovered, but that didn't sink in, and Sam just smiled and swung her legs over the side of the cliff with a carefree kick that she hadn't felt in her gut in years. "I'm Sam."
Olive explained that she was, in fact, Olive. Sam had no idea who the fuck that was, but whatever, and even the levitating didn't seem like such a big thing when the girl explained where they were. She'd seen enough weird shit in these doors not to be surprised by any of it.
What did surprise her was her first glimpse at herself in the mirror of the old house. Olive had dragged her in to meet Miss Peregrine, and Sam had gawked at herself until the woman came out and laughed a quiet and kindly laugh.
"Fuck," Sam whispered, and some kid tittered from behind a door. She smiled at the young girl in the reflection, and she should've worried about this shit, but she was so not worried about a fucking thing.
The woman, Miss Peregrine, explained that things had changed a little recently, but that things always did. Ok, yeah, whatever. Sam didn't give a shit, because this wasn't just some pod person miniaturization. She remembered everything, but she felt different. She was sure she should remember some book crap about the development of the brain, or about how it changed as it aged, but she didn't think that could account for this. This wasn't organic. She didn't feel like an adult in a younger body. Twenty-one, maybe, yeah? This was completely hotel bullshit, and for the second time in like a month, she actually liked the fucking hotel.
The woman, who apparently watched over the weirdo kids, said she could stay. She babbled some shit about things becoming permanent after 72-hours, and Sam didn't care how she knew that. She said she'd remember, but she knew she wasn't going to walk out there and turn into that emaciated fucking Iris clone again. No way. She touched a finger to the missing gap between her front teeth, which was the only thing that really proved the past had still happened, and she went off with Olive and some kid full of bees, and whatever, who the fuck was she to judge?