Percival Graves didn't know what had happened. He never knew what happened.
He just knew that he heard the crack of Grindelwald apparating into the front room, and the thunk as he dropped into the armchair that had once been Percival's, and Grindelwald's voice, stunted in masochistic glee.
"Percy, won't you come out? I've brought something for you."
Percival stared at the wall across from him, paper peeling, splattered with blood.
He stood slowly, glass and rotten wood crunching under him.
This room was the only one in the apartment so destroyed; Grindelwald repaired the rest of it often, but he let Graves' office stay like this, a reminder of the countless hours he had spent trapped in it.
Limping slightly, painfully aware of his still-broken rib, Percival stumbled into the main room.
Grindelwald was reclined in the leather chair directly across from the hall, eyes glimmering cruelly.
There was a corpse in his lap.
A body, limp, pale, dark hair, blood on his skin.
"Credence."
"Ah, ah, ah." Grindelwald tutted, paralyzing Percival with a flick of his wand as the man lunged forward, more strength in his body than he'd had in months.
Percival fought against the magic keeping him still with everything he had, the agony in his chest having nothing to do with the broken bone.
He couldn't look away.
Credence was as thin as he had been when Percival first met him, the small amount of strength that had developed over the time he had spent with him stripped completely. His face was cut and his palms were coated with fresh scars, traveling up his wrists and still bloody.
His chest shuddered with a weak breath.
"Credence." Percival croaked, unable to move in any other way.
Grindelwald hummed shortly and began to stroke the top of Credence's leg idly.
"He's a sweet one. Timid. You were right about him, and now he's going to be staying here with you-for awhile. How lucky you are."
"What did you do to him?"
Percival demanded, struggling again, failing to make progress again. Grindelwald chuckled, deep in his chest.
"The better question is, what did you do to him? You know that out there, I'm you. He's incredibly powerful to still be alive; he was very nearly destroyed."
Credence made a weak sound of discomfort as Grindelwald dug his fingers into his side, ducking over him and breathing against his neck, observing his face.
"Leave him alone!" Percival snarled, and his struggle suddenly gained him a step forward. Grindelwald tutted again, and Percival was forced to his knees.
"It's far too late for that, Graves. He must be trained. But he cannot lose control while he's learning."
Behind Percival, cupboards in the kitchen opened and closed as if Grindelwald was searching for something. He hummed again. "A man so successful as yourself doesn't have a single sedative potion? It's no wonder you were so easy to take, you're unprepared for anything."
Percival ignored the insult.
"I swear on my life, if you poison him-"
"-Oh, come on, did you honestly think he could be trained as he is? He's far too unstable. And anyway, it's not poison; we're just going to keep him calm. In time, he will see just as I do. He will be harnessed for our cause."
Grindelwald looked down at the limp doll of a human in his lap, and Percival saw the hunger in his eyes.
"Leave him alone. You can't brainwash him."
"I already have." Grindelwald sneered, though it quickly lost venom. "Well, I thought I had, but outside influence has made him weak. That's why he's here, with you; you're both dead men. Nobody will look here, nobody can influence this place but me."
Leave him alone, Graves wanted to scream. Leave my boy alone.
But he knew that anything he did for Credence could put him at risk.
"What could you possibly want with an untrained wizard? He's terrified of his magic, and has no ability to use it." Percival tried.
Grindelwald laughed, a sharp, piercing sound.
"Really, now, I thought you were a more intelligent man than that, Percy."
Grindelwald traced Credence's jaw with his fingertips, letting his nails dig into the already-bruised flesh. His gaze seemed to soften as it focused on Credence, though it was in no way innocent. "He's the thing that's been attacking your city. He's the Obscurus."
Percival stared. You're completely insane, he wanted to say, but he somehow knew Grindelwald wasn't lying.
It didn't matter; Grindelwald was talking again, not waiting for Percival to react. "He trusts you. He trusts you more than anyone else, so he's going to stay here, and you're going to keep him grounded. I know you will, because he'll kill you and destroy this entire building if you can't. He doesn't have the control not to."
As he spoke, Grindelwald stood, and propped Credence up in the chair. The boy made a sound in his chest, weak and pained.
Grindelwald turned to face Graves and sneered. He knotted his hand into Percival's hair and jerked his head up, forcing him to look at Grindelwald's face. "Do not try to interfere with his magic. I am going to teach him how to harness his Obscurial; do not try to turn him against me."
With another crack, Grindelwald was gone, and Graves was free to move.
His immediate freedom made him crumple to the ground, and he scrambled forward.
"Credence."
His hands found the sides of the boy's face and held it even as he inspected him worriedly.
Though unconscious and slightly battered, he seemed to be in no mortal danger.
Percival felt some twisted form of relief, something he hadn't known in months, and he felt comfort in immeasurable content as Credence huffed another breath, a feeling Percival knew he would not forget even to his dying day.
He began to cry weakly, silently, holding Credence close.
Graves remembered the day he had been captured, and saw his own face on Grindelwald's body. His first and most pressing thought was of Credence, and so much of the madness that had destroyed him from then on was not knowing what happened to the boy, not being there for him, not watching over him.
He lifted Credence-though he filled his arms, he was as light as a child, sickly and drawn-out-and breathed him in.
Credence was real, he was here, and Percival was going to keep him safe.
No matter what.
Percival stood slowly, the boy cradled to his chest, and stumbled into his own bedroom.
He hadn't actually slept in months, easily, and he struggled with getting the sheets back before dumping Credence onto the mattress.
He nursed his side as he knelt, stroking the hair away from Credence's temples.