Chapter 1
Horace held great confidence in his seer abilities, no matter how much he was afraid of them. Both the future and the past held so much, and Horace learned a lot from them. His peculiarity was a curse at times, but also a gift. Because he could see the past, Horace knew everything about his fellow peculiars. In fact, he could almost compare the study of his visions about their pasts to Millard's studies of the activities outside the loop. He knew the names of their parents and siblings (f the had any), their favorite foods and hobbies, their talents, their favorite classes in school, their best memories, and their worst memories. It never ceased to astound Horace how detailed and yet, how /simple/ the other children's lives had been before they discovered their peculiarities and fled to the loop. But there was one thing that troubled him. Hugh had never appeared in any of Horace's visions.

As Horace ate silently that night while the others talked and laughed amongst themselves, he couldn't keep his eyes off of Hugh. The older teen also ate in silence, keeping a net over his head so he could let out his bees without disturbing the other children. He wore his usual dark glasses despite the fact that the dining hall was dimly lit, something that had always stirred curiosity in Horace. His attitude and appearance would always change abruptly when he was with Fiona or a few of the other boys than when he was with all if the peculiars.

Hugh had a short temper and was never afraid to express himself, but he was always quiet when with the others, and the only time Horace had caught him without his glasses was when he and Fiona had been alone together in the parlour, but he'd only seen the back of his head. All if his other observations of the bee man had also been fruitless. Sighing in frustration, Horace pushed his plateaway and buried his head in his hands. He could see that Hugh wasn't what he seemed, and it frustrated him so! He wanted to help him, even if he would look ridiculous.
"Horace? Are you alright?" Miss Peregrine asked her ward, worry ringing clear in her tone. Horace quickly snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at his head mistress, feeling slightly dazed. Blinking, he rubbed his eyes and sighed. His dreams that were waking him up at night were starting to catch up with him. He failed to notice the worried glance Hugh gave him as he got up from his seat.

"I'm perfectly alright Miss Peregrine, I just... need to..." Horace's voice trailed off and he groaned, clutching his head. The whole room was spinning, making him dizzy. His head throbbed and he fell to his knees, still clutching his head and groaning. Flashes of images danced across his vision, joined by garbled voices. Oh, bloody hell... Horace thought before collapsing on the floor. Hugh immediately shot up out of his seat and scrambled over to the fallen boy, checking him hurriedly for any injuries.

"He's alright, I already checked," a floating hat, or Millard, said pointedly. Hugh nodded a bit and hesitated slightly before gently picking him up and cradling him in his arms. Horace was shivering his forehead beaded with sweat. He murmured in his sleep and buried his face in Hugh's chest, clinging to him. Hugh blushed lightly in embarrassment but it was soon forgotten when Horace let out a shriek and thrashed about for a moment, shouting something about burning worlds and pestilence before going limp again.

"I-I'll take him to his room," Hugh muttered, glad that his goggles hid the worry in his eyes. Miss Peregrine nodded in agreement before shooing them off, trying to comfort the children who had begun to wail and Horace's unexpected episode. Hugh trekked up the creaky stairs as carefully as he could, trying not to jostle the shaking boy in his arms. Upon entering Horace's room, Hugh quickly set him on his bed and pulled the blankets over him. Horace would probably kill him later for not removing his suit and letting it get ruined, but Hugh could only damage his pride so much. Letting his bees out to cover the window so the room was a little darker, Hugh pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed. Whenever Horace had an episode, Miss Peregrine always requested that someone stayed with him until he awakened.

Hugh tilted his head slightly as he studied the sleeping boy. Horace looked so innocent and young curled up under the blankets, just how someone his age should. It made Hugh sad honestly, even though he didn't know the prophetic boy that well. Sighing, he sat back against the chair, resting his elbows on his knees so he could prop up his chin in his hands, and tried to keep himself awake.