There seems to be an awful lack of hurt!Newt fanfictions out there, so here's my contribution.

Fun fact: I started this fic in November 2016... but only just now finished it.

Oops.


From the inside of the near-ruined subway tunnel, the cries of Frank the Thunderbird echoed loudly, a sort of haunting melody. A lump grew painfully in Newt's throat as he raised his hand in one, final farewell to his feathered friend. Though he knew rationally that releasing Frank was the real reason that he had ventured into the States in the first place, it was much harder to say goodbye to the fellow than he'd expected.

The magical rain had been coming down for several minutes before the Magizoologist turned toward the awe-struck wizards in the tunnel with him. The action took more strength that he'd expected, and he could tell that his ordeal was beginning to catch up with him - his body running on the fumes of adrenaline in order to keep him on his feet. "They won't remember anything. That venom has incredibly powerful obliviative properties."

There was a slight, warm pressure on his right shoulder as he spoke, and he stiffened at the unforeseen contact. He could feel the tension draining out of his neck and shoulders when a turn of his head told him that the comforting gesture came from Tina. A feeling that he hadn't felt in years began to grow in the pit of his stomach, filling him with delightful little butterflies. It was a huge contrast to the overwhelming exhaustion that prickled at his senses, threatening to buckle his knees and send his mind spinning. As it was, his legs were trembling as badly as weakly set jello, quivering in time to the stuttering pounding of his heart.

The president raised an eyebrow at him, nodding ever so slightly in approval. "We owe you a great debt, Mr. Scamander. Now - get that case out of New York."

"Yes, Madam President." The corners of Newt's mouth turned up in a slight smile, one hand tightening on the handle of his - substantially more empty - suitcase. Madam Picquery gave him a stern smile in return and turned to leave with the rest of her Aurors before something seemed to occur to her - causing her to pause in her departure.

"Is that No-Maj still here?" Queenie tensed from beside Tina, shifting ever so slightly as if she wanted to shield Jacob from where she stood slightly behind her and to the side. Of course, it was no use, and her movement only confirmed that Jacob was indeed the No-Maj in question. "Obliviate him. There can be no exceptions."

The four friends looked at each other in angst, and that action was not missed by the observant woman. It was obvious to anyone that the quartet had bonded over the events of the past few days. Seraphina Picquery's face softened slightly. "I'm sorry, but even one witness… you know the law. I'll let you say good-bye."

There were several loud cracks! as the MACUSA staff apparated away.

Silently, the oddly mismatched quartet climbed the stairs that led out of the subway, Jacob leading the way with Queenie following closely behind him. Her hand remained clutched in his as they neared the top of the stairs, the sound of the magical rain became audible as it pattered down on the awning and pooled in small puddles on the sidewalk. Newt and Tina followed closely behind, his feet feeling as heavy as if they were made of lead. When he reached the top of the stairs, Jacob stopped, glancing up at the grey, stormy sky before turning to face the others.

"This is for the best." Jacob blinked his eyes furiously, obviously trying to hold back tears. "Yeah - I was… I was never even supposed to be here. I was never supposed to know about any of this. Everybody knows you only kept me around… hey, Newt - why did you keep me around?"

Newt shifted uncomfortably on his feet, taking a small step forward on the steps. A flash of pain shot through his chest as he moved again, and he barely managed to hide the pain on his face by looking down. He could feel Tina's gaze on him, prickling the hair on the back of his neck pleasantly.

"Because I like you, because you're my friend… and I'll never forget how you helped me, Jacob."

Looking up uncomfortably, Newt could tell by the awed and emotional expression on Jacob's face that was not the answer that he was expecting. "Jacob started crying softly, genuinely moved by Newt's earnest response. "Oh…"

Queenie couldn't take it anymore, and she hurried forwards, already beginning to cry. "I'll come with you!"

The ridiculousness of that statement caused both of them to laugh tearfully, knowing in their hearts that this was something that they had to do for the greater good. Nevertheless, Queenie continued to paint a perfect future for the two of them, surrounded by the warmth and security of their love. "We'll go somewhere…. well, anywhere."

A single tear tracked down Queenie's face. "See… I ain't never gonna find anyone like you."

Jacob swallowed harshly, blinking back the sobs that threatened to break free and shake his body. As it was, tears flowed freely from the corners of his eyes. "There's loads like me -"

"No, no. There's only one like you,"

A watery smile appeared on Jacob's face, and he tilted his head slightly as Queenie spoke. He seemed to be physically unable to remove his eyes from her tragically beautiful face. There was a pregnant pause before he managed to tear his gaze away. As he turned away, he carefully dabbed at his eyes. "I gotta go."

Newt couldn't remain still any longer, and he shifted his weight as he debated coming closer. "Jacob…"

The man in question shook his head, smiling ever so slightly in resignation. "It's okay… it's okay." His voice trembled as he swallowed before shrugging. "It's okay. It's just like waking up, right?"

For a moment, nobody spoke, their eyes expressing everything that they ever could have wanted or needed to say. Newt's chest was tight, although with emotion or exhaustion he did not know. Jacob hesitated a moment before taking a deep breath and took a timid step backwards, followed by several more. As the top of his head became saturated with the downpour, he turned his head towards the sky and closed his eyes.

Suddenly, Queenie stepped forward - her wand upraised as a silent spell configured an invisible shield from the rain, shimmering into the form of an umbrella as the rain hit it and slid down to hit the ground. Under this protection, the curly haired blonde approached the man that she was so desperately in love with, gently reaching out to caress his stubbly cheek before finding his lips with her own.

The moment was so beautiful and private, and yet Newt and Tina could not tear their eyes away from the two lovers as they embraced. Out of the corner of his eye, Newt could see Tina's eyes moving between him and her sister, and inexplicably he felt a pang of jealousy. He internally scolded himself for even entertaining the feeling for a second, for what was he to be jealous of? A broken heart? A tragic ending to a beautiful love story?

Queenie gently pulled her lips away from Jacob's, stifling a heartbroken sob. The non-magic man that she had grown to love continued to stand there in the rain, face slightly upturned to the sky and his lips parted just a hair. A blank look was stealing over his face as the enchanted rain picked away at his illegal memories, wiping his mind free of the Goldstein sisters, Newt, and all of the magic that he had experienced over the past two days.

Knowing that her sister would not be able to pull herself completely away before Jacob came to his senses and opened his eyes, Tina reached out and wrapped a comforting arm around her sister's shaking shoulders. Queenie buried her face in her older sister's jacket, crying silently. The noise sounded oddly distorted to Newt, and he blinked harshly, going as far as to shake his head violently in an attempt to clear the fog that was seeping into where he kept his wits.

"Mr. Scamander!"

His eyes flew open just in time to catch Tina's panicked face, her wand arm stretched out towards him in an obvious request to side-along apparate him away from where they were no longer supposed to be. Newt's heart skipped a beat, and he dove forwards, fingers just managing to wrap around the elder sister's wrist as she spun and began to disapparate.

He was sucked into cool, suffocating darkness immediately, and it was but a second before the soles of his leather shoes hit solid ground once more. As the world rematerialized around him, Newt dimly registered that they were back in the Goldstein's apartment, and that it was as safe, warm, and inviting as ever before.

Now, ordinarily, Newt Scamander was a fairly coordinated individual - a necessary skill for one who dealt with the most sensitive and potentially deadly magical creatures nearly every hour of the day. He surely would have perished or have been badly crippled if he hadn't left that clumsy youth behind in his Hogwarts days. Whatever - and by that, he meant the lot of them - he lacked in social skills and cues, he more than made up for in finesse and calculated moves. Perhaps that was why it was so startling to him when the living room did not, in fact, stop spinning or complete it's materialization, sending Newt crumpling to his knees with a dizzied groan - his blood pounding loudly in his ears.

"Mr. Sca- Newt, are you alright?" Tina quickly untangled herself from her sister's teary grasp, dropping down to her knees in front of the kneeling form of Newt Scamander. One of her hands moved to rest on his shoulder as the other gripped her wand tensely, looking around to see what fresh attack was besieging her newfound friend.

"Oh, I'm quite alright," the freckled man insisted, the marks on his face standing out much more starkly as his face drained of every drop of color, leaving his complexion bone white. One of his hands found its way to his chest where the tightness had given way to sharp, stabbing pain. "I just seem to have taken a bad tur- Agh, Merlin!"

The Magizoologist had attempted to push himself to his feet, but when he moved a violent pain seared through his chest. Newt was no stranger to pain, having dealt with nearly every magical creature out there known to mankind before and their attacks, but this pain was absolutely excruciating. His eyes went wide before squeezing shut, his hand digging at the fabric of his vest in an attempt to soothe the awful bursts of fire that were spreading throughout his body.

Queenie dropped to her knees on the other side of Newt, lifting his chin up in her cool hands so that she could get a good look at him. He could faintly remember that she had told him at one time that Englishmen were difficult for her to read unless she really concentrated.

"Newt, honey, what's wrong?"

His blue eyes just barely opened enough to peer at her, partially obscured by a thick layer of unshed tears of pain, and Queenie recoiled at the memories and thoughts that assaulted her as their eyes met.

He was in the decrepit subway tunnels with Grindelwald, still wearing the façade of Percival Graves. Debris and broken bricks flew through the air, and it was impossible to miss them all. A groan of pain escaped him as several hit their mark - sending him tumbling to the ground, bruising and slicing himself up in the process.

Graves didn't even allow him the privilege of time to catch his breath before his next attack began. All of a sudden, there was lightning arcing across the subway tunnel towards him, and all he registered was sheer desperation to avoid it at all costs. He threw himself sideways, rolling to miss a second volt as it roared towards him. Graves' third attack hit him square in the chest, and he couldn't hold back a scream of pain.

Pain – blinding pain – over and over again, causing black spots to appear before his eyes as he writhed in agony on the ruins of the platform. All that he could comprehend was the thunderous cacophony of electricity, his screams, and the desperate pounding of his labored heart as he struggled with primal instinct to flee this torment.

And then, a new assault.

"Crucio!"

With a small thud, Queenie fell backwards onto the carpeted floor, shocked by what she had just seen. She breathed out harshly, reeling from the pain of the memories she had just read from Newt. "Oh my gods, Newt!"

If it was possible, the man in question turned even paler when he realized that the Legilimens had experienced everything he had gone through firsthand through his memories. "So sorry, so terribly sorry."

And with that, he gave a drawn out groan of pain and veered sideways towards the floor.

"Newt!" Tina threw her arms forward as Newt's eyes rolled up into the back of his head, just barely managing to catch and prop up his head before it slammed into the floor with the full weight of his body. He was fully unconscious by the time his body gave out, and his full dead-weight threatened to crush her. "Queenie - a little help!"

Queenie hurried to Newt's side, helping her sister lower his prone form slowly to the floor, as to not jostle any broken or injured body parts. His legs were twisted underneath his body from the angle of his fall, and Tina took a second to tug at them and straighten them out before him.

Once laid on the ground fully, Newt's head fell limply to the side, skin pale white against the warm brown carpet. Even unconscious, an expression of discomfort lingered on his face, creating worry lines that criss-crossed his freckled features. Tina caught herself staring at his handsome face for longer than necessary, and a faint flush creeped up the back of her neck as she busied herself with reaching down and feeling for his pulse through his wrist. To her relief, it was definitely there, although a bit faster and weaker than she would have liked. "Queenie, what happened?"

"Oh Tina, he was in so much pain," Queenie placed both of her hands on the sides of Newt's face, straightening his neck carefully. She could feel his skin and how it was encased in a thin layer of cold sweat as he laid in her grasp. "Grindelwald tortured him!"

Tina's heart skipped a beat, and she swore softly under her breath. Of course Newt wouldn't have spoken up, the man was as easy-going and low-maintenance as a person could get. He definitely abhorred extra attention, and admitting that he had been injured would have given him plenty of the like.

Remembering how Newt clutched his chest as he went down, Tina set to work unbuttoning his vest and jumper, carefully removing layer after layer of his clothes. Despite how serious of a situation this was, she couldn't help but get flustered as his pale skin became exposed little by little, becoming very aware of the fact that she was undressing a very good looking young man.

Queenie shot a knowing look at her, and Tina flushed in embarrassment. She hated how her most private thoughts were always on display when her sister was around. "Quit reading my thoughts."

"I can't help it, you're projecting really loudly," Queenie huffed, watching as the last of the layers were pulled away and Newt was left in a simple button-down shirt.

As Tina started removing the final layer of clothing, the two women let out a gasp. As more and more skin was revealed, it became clear that the extent of Newt's battle injuries were serious. His pale chest was spotted with not only freckles and thousands of tiny, healed scars and burns from his creatures, but several angry-looking scorch marks where it was obvious that Grindelwald's lightning had entered his body. The bodies of witches and wizards were much more hearty and stronger than the average No-Maj, but magical lightning could be deadly in high doses and without triage afterwards.

"Queenie, do you still have those potions that you bought to patch me up?" Tina implored her sister, her voice trembling ever so slightly and giving away her nervousness about the situation. Being an Auror, Tina had much more experience than she'd ever wanted with injuries, both serious and minor. Because she came home singed, bruised, and sliced up so much after an assignment from MACUSA, Queenie had become extremely skilled at most medical remedies.

Much to her relief, her sister whipped her wand out and raised it in a beseeching way.

"Accio burn paste, Accio dittany, Accio wound cleaner!"

Several bottles came soaring out of various locations in the small kitchen, zooming over to where the witches were kneeling in the sitting room and into Queenie's outstretched arms. The Legilimens quickly sorted through them, before finding the one that she wanted and shoving it into Tina's lap. "Pour that on the wounds."

Cleanser. As Tina unscrewed the bottle, she recognized the cool scent and purple color of the wound cleaning potion that was a common staple in most magical households. Wincing in sympathy, she poured a generous amount onto Newt's chest, remembering how much it stung. Instantly, smoke began to rise in tendrils from every wound it touched, disinfecting the inflamed skin.

Queenie was leaning over Newt's prone body as soon as Tina was done, grasping a tiny vial carefully in her small hands. "A few drops of this."

Tina barely glanced at the tiny vial labeled Dittany as Queenie uncorked it and used the dropper to squeeze a couple of drops onto the now-smoking scorch marks that marred Newt's chest. Instantly, the skin began to move and fade slightly, giving the impression that they were several days old instead of a few hours. What was left of the burns was quickly covered by Tina smearing thick orange burn paste - which she had deduced was the next step as it was the final jar - generously to the skin.

A quick wave of her sister's wand, and Newt's chest was criss-crossed in white bandages, sealing in the magical remedies and ensuring that they would be able to work their magic. Now that his wounds were cleaned and wrapped up, much of the pain that was written across Newt's face had faded away. Tina sat back on her heels, watching as her sister fussed over Newt for a few more minutes, muttering spells under her breath as she waved in to and fro above him. Little by little - much to Tina's delight - the color was returning to Newt's cheeks, and his chest began to rise with more and more strength.

"I think we did as much as we can for now," Queenie finally spoke, turning to her sister. Tina could tell how her magic had drained a lot of Queenie's strength - her face was lined with exhaustion. "I'm no mediwitch, but there doesn't seem to be much internal damage, thankfully. He'll need to take it easy for several days."

Tina swallowed roughly, blinking back tears of relief at this revelation. She didn't realize how tense she was until she heard that Newt would be okay, and all of the tension in her body was released. "He won't like that much will he?" The sisters shared a quiet laugh, Queenie pretending that she couldn't see the tear trickling down her sister's cheek. "I'll put him in the guest room then, shall I?"

Queenie hummed her approval before getting to her feet and giving her sister a knowing smile and walking away into the kitchen. Tina re-drew her own wand, flicking it at Newt's limp body, watching as it slowly rose into the air and floated in front of her. She led the way into the guest room, him following obediently behind her and then gently dropping onto the opened bedsheets. It took her longer than it should've to settle him in, as she took great care to tuck him in and arrange him in a way that looked the most comfortable.

She stood there for awhile over him, just watching him as he slept. A turmoil of emotions was swirling inside of her, and she didn't know what to do with them. How could it be that a man she had met days before could mean so much to her already? He was like nobody she had ever met before. That thought alone sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach, and she flushed again.

Just as she turned to leave the room, she heard a quiet groan. Spinning back around, Tina saw Newt's face scrunch up in a mixture of confusion and pain as he stirred in the bed, squinting before opening his bright blue eyes. Her heart skipped a beat as their eyes met once again, and she hurried back to his side.

"What happened?" Newt asked in confusion, raising one of his arms to rub his face, wincing when his chest burned slightly. Tina watched as he remembered what had happened, seeing many different emotions flit across his face - one after another - as he comprehended each memory.

"You tell me, you collapsed from your injuries," Tina admonished the Magizoologist, watching as he swallowed and looked away. He fixed his eyes on the thread of his sheet, never being one for long eye-contact. "Queenie and I patched you up best we could."

"Oh Merlin, I don't want to be a bother, I'm quite alright." As he spoke, he made to get out of bed and paled. Tina took the opportunity to insistently push him back into the pillows, using his lack of strength against him. As her hand encircled his wrist and she momentarily hovered over him, both of them flushed at the close contact. Their eyes travelled until they met in the middle, neither one moving for a pregnant pause.

"You should rest just a bit longer," Tina quickly released him, pulling back and immediately feeling the loss of his touch. Goosebumps rose on her skin as his gaze darted down, hesitating on her lips before settling on her hands. She could see how Newt was gearing himself up to argue with her, clearly not one to easily comply with bed rest. "Please, for me?"

"Just a bit then," Newt finally agreed at the sound of Tina's plea, before turning his head up again to look at her. He saw how a flush spread across her neck and cheeks, and a strange feeling whooped through his stomach, making his heart skip a beat. It was an extremely unusual feeling to have somebody so invested in his care, and he found that it wasn't as irksome as he usually thought of it. As if she was reading his mind, she slowly looked up and gave him a small smile, warm and full of life.

It was then that Newt decided if anybody was going to be taking care of or bossing him around, he didn't think he would mind if it was Tina for a little while longer.

As long as she continued to give him some of her beautiful smiles.