After the Fall

by Those sadistic tendencies

The final instalment of the 'Grace for Sales' trilogy. I would put a summary here but if you have read the first two then you probably know where this is going - ANGST and MISERY - and if not...then go and read em I guess?

2. Chapter 2

"You picked up your heart and made straight for the hills, that day I've not forgot, all the while I've loved you still….

In streets of stone, you stood, like a light in darker times, we all did what we could, but our failure closed our eyes

…I won't stop til my heart from my chest drops. And you leave me no choice but to wait for the water, to wait for the water, to wait for the water to rise." – 'Wait for the Water' – The Ballroom Thieves

For once in his life, alcohol was doing nothing to abate Percival's overwhelming emotions – instead of gradually numbing them down until he passed out, he felt everything just as before and eventually gave up on the matter after the fourth generous tumbler of Fire-Whiskey was smartly pushed his way by an equally bereft Theseus. For once, there were no irate words shared between them, instead, both sitting or pacing about the living room of the Brit's home in relative silence but for the clinking of glasses and some light clattering from the kitchen as Tina, Jacob and Queenie set about preparing Christmas dinner. Not that any of them were particularly in the mood for it or were, in fact, religious at all but Queenie had insisted that Jacob needn't shirk his usual tradition just because they didn't celebrate it. She had also seemed to want to keep as busy as she could in light of a story to which she only knew part of but had sensed more than she had been told from every distraught mind in the room. The Legilimens had done the courtesy of not voicing aloud what Theseus and Percival would not say but he knew from the devastated look on her face, the constantly shimmering eyes and the gnawed lips that she knew the truth. Percival almost wished he didn't.

It had been admittedly kind of Theseus and Tina to allow him to stay with them in the aftermath of Newt's ordeal and subsequent disappearance – the disappearance that had involved leaping from a several hundred-foot drop off the side of a Morgana-damned mountain. He had re-entered the room just in time to witness it and despite Dumbledore's assurances that he was alive and well, the Auror couldn't find it in himself to believe the word of the Brit or the Seer-powered sadistic bastard who had informed him of Newt's apparent survival. No matter the case of his living or not, Percival knew without a doubt that Newt would not be 'well' in any sense of the word, not after what he'd been through and it tore at his insides like the claws of a particularly irritable creature that he could not be there for Newt now. Nor even be any help if he were with him. Right now, his presence would likely only confuse and agitate the younger man further, not that it stopped him from wanting to try mind you. It might seem selfish but all he seemed to be able to think about in his growingly intoxicated state was Newt wrapped in his arms and all of the troubles of the past year forgotten as they lay together again with no end in sight. But that wasn't going to happen.

In the days since Newt had disappeared – along with the bastard who put him into the state he was apparently still in – Percival had alternated between periods of brooding silence and harshly interrogating any Grindelwald fanatics that were unfortunate enough to still be in MACUSA custody so violently that three had ended up in the intensive care unit of the prison facilities. He had also been 'advised' to take a temporary leave of absence by President Picquery until he could "get his damn head on straight again". The truth of the situation was more that he had experienced uncontrollable fits of rage that nearly resulted in the deaths of those he was interrogating and even in his anger, Percival could realise that she had done so in everybody's best interests. Even so, it had been admittedly guiltily satisfying to watch both Rosier and Abernathy being dragged away after he had finished with them – he didn't like to think of himself as being a sadistic man but being able to vent some of his immeasurable fury towards a cause that might help him hunt down Grindelwald and make him pay…it had felt good. Like he was actually doing something worthwhile while Newt was out there all alone and desperately in need of help that he wasn't sure he could even give.

Fortunately for Percival's…perhaps delicate state of mind after his temporary dismissal and all that had occurred, Tina had told him that Theseus' spare room was at his disposal as the two had apparently sorted through the surface issues of their relationship in light of her now obvious pregnancy and she was currently cohabiting his home in London. Not favouring the thought of stalking his own apartment on his own, he had agreed, not only for the company but for the hope that should any news concerning Newt come to light that he would hear of it much sooner if he was in contact with Newt's brother and other friends. He could understand that Newt probably wouldn't want to see him but held out the hope that he might be still enough himself that he would visit his family for some sort of security or comfort. Whilst it was a flimsy expectation as the days rolled past with no sign of him forthcoming despite both his and Theseus' feelers being out with their respective Ministry operatives, it turned out to actually have perhaps been a fortuitous decision on Percival's part.

As it happened, Percival was alone in the living room when the knock came to the front door as Theseus had gone into the kitchen minutes before and the clattering and low voices likely distracted the house's other occupants from such a sound so it was Percival who ventured forth to answer. The knock had been tentative, a light rapping of knuckles that sounded four times, two first in hesitance and then two more in firmer strokes, caution left him slightly as he levered himself up from his slump in the chair and crossed swiftly with only a few light scanning charms alighting his wand tip from within his pocket. Finding nothing obviously amiss, he unbolted the door and was met with the back of a man covered against the cold December wind with a familiar blue wool coat that had him sobering up much faster than he expected as the wearer turned, as if redeciding and he too froze.

Newt looked better than the last time he had seen him as the pale pink scarring had faded down to a muted white set of lines that blended almost perfectly with his natural pallor, only standing out where his dusting of freckles was interspersed by the lines tracing towards his eyes. He was thinner still, even in comparison to the months of captivity and his shirt, previously too small, now almost seemed to fit even in the partially unbuttoned state it was, bowtie present but not knotted and trousers grained around the knees with dirt and what looked to be sand. The eyes were the main difference, they met his but not with recognition or with confusion as he might have expected – and the fact that they actually met his, voluntarily and without hesitancy. It just seemed off. The green was rimmed less with blue too, as if the removal of the pact from him had drained some of the other two men's influences even upon his very appearance past the silver that had been burned into his skin. Now they were duller, deeper green that was a shade closer, perhaps, to the hues of the nature he often surrounded himself with, the rings of cerulean and flecks of brown accenting each other even as the life was dulled in comparison to the potential for vibrancy that they held. His pupils were wide, almost obscuring the haze of colour that was left. It was both eerie and somewhat ethereally beautiful.

"Newt, what're you doing here?" He blurted it out and the man in question inclined his head a bit before swallowing and rubbing a hand seemingly spasmodically through the back of his hair, freezing, flinching just slightly and then slowly drawing it down to almost cradle it in front of him whilst averting his gaze.

"I was under the impression that this my brother's house and not yours so I guess I could ask you the same." He frowned distantly then, eyes flicking back up to Percival's face in question as he added "Or are you friends…? I don't recall Theseus mentioning you much but then again we don't discuss his colleagues very much…I suppose that if you and I were…uh well acquainted then it would make sense for-"

He cut himself off as Percival shook his head vehemently, trying to clear it a bit as he hastened to reassure the other and fix his misstep in the same moment "No, no, Morgana's ass no…! We…Theseus and I are barely on speaking terms most of the time, but he and Tina were kind enough to allow me to stay with them…after what happened."

"Right, yes, very kind of them." Newt murmured, shifting on his feet then glancing back over his shoulder into the dark, empty street and Percival realised that he had been blocking Newt's entrance and likely wasn't making him feel very welcome by doing so and stepped back, holding the door open wider. Newt's head bobbed in a minor nod of thanks as he came forward, Percival closed the door behind him and then paused, unsure of how to proceed and thankfully being saved from such a decision as Tina bustled in from the kitchen, a cloth slung over her shoulder and visibly rounded frame only just noticeable beneath a baggy dark red smock dress. She gasped as she saw Newt and swept toward him, brushing past Percival and pulling Newt forward, holding him at arm's length before wrapping his skinny frame in a tight hug. The male Auror thought she might've whispered something to Newt then, but he didn't hear the words and judging from the slightly stricken look on Newt's face that he could see over Tina's shoulder, he didn't think Newt did entirely either.

She released him rather quickly much to both men's apparent relief and gestured for him to follow her back down the corridor and into the living room where she ushered him into an armchair. Newt went a bit numbly, eyes on the ground as he settled into the seat and Percival found himself by the window nearby to Newt's chair, back to the curtained glass and mahogany gaze fixed upon the top of Newt's curled head as his eyes were turned down. It felt more like his usual behaviour but still wrong somehow. His eyes didn't even look focused anymore, not that they had much in the first place. Percival couldn't find himself entirely surprised to think that Newt would be mostly out of it right now – not after what had happened – but he couldn't yet say if it was rooted in mental, physical or magical realms so resigned himself to keeping a close eye on Newt as long as he was here.

Theseus re-entered, though rather strategically – he felt – not followed by the rest as it likely wouldn't be a good idea to crowd Newt after he had taken such brave step in the first place by coming here in the first place. The elder Scamander looked incredibly cautious as he stepped forward, Newt looked up but didn't rise to greet his brother, Theseus, too, looked unsure of how to carry on. Newt, surprisingly, was the one to break the silence in a soft, low voice. "Hello, Theseus…um Merry Christmas, I suppose?"

The British Auror cracked a smile at that and a little tension leaked from him before he deemed it time to relax slightly as he sat in the chair across from Newt by the fireside, highlighting his sharp features and casting a more Newt-like gold-red tone to his neat hair. "Glad you could make it – I was pretty convinced you wouldn't come…or that Dumbledore wouldn't even bother mentioning it." He clearly was hesitant to mention the fact that they had all been half-convinced that Newt was dead and equally half irate and grieved at the potential.

"He did. Was quite insistent on it in fact." Newt commented lightly, leant forward in his chair and fingers steepled horizontally between his jittering knees.

Theseus huffed a breath and shot a slight smile "Would've been an awfully big waste of all the blood I gave for you to disappear on us like that indefinitely." It was a tease, everyone in the room could tell and for as much confusion as the words steeped Percival in it seemed to puzzle Newt further as his brows creased into a severe frown.

"What do you mean?"

"I suppose that Dumbledore would've failed to mention it with all that was going on, but he apparently had to transfuse a lot of blood back into you to keep you alive – I'd already offered mine before and he thought it might work better than simply trying to replace it all entirely magically." He huffed another forcibly amused breath though his eyes remained hard and distant – scared even. "I don't pretend to understand half of what went on but it seemed the least I could do to give you a damn chance after you dealt with all that bloody mess for so long…" he trailed off, seeming to realise that he was rambling in his affected reminiscences and blinked rather rapidly before offering another thin smile to his brother.

"I…didn't realise you'd done that…thank you?" He seemed agitated even as his tone, eyes and expression remained devoid of life. It was bizarre and unnerving to witness. The silence stretched on for long minutes, none seeming to know how to continue before Percival's eyes fell to Newt's abnormally non-bulging coat pocket and decided to weigh in on the conversation – or lack thereof - as the others seemed struck dumb by Newt's odd – even for him - nature.

"Pickett not joining us?" Newt's deadened gaze snapped toward him and he patted his pocket a bit absently as he blinked slowly at the Auror.

"He insisted that if he had to spend some time with his branch then I should too…a compromise of sorts, I suppose."

"Seems fair." Percival tried to match Newt's apparent lightness but felt that he was doing a fairly poor job as the younger man's narrowed very slightly and his head tilted. He hastened to add more words to cover the uncharacteristic awkwardness. "And the others? Titus? Poppy? Nessa? Benjamin? Marius? Susan? The Phoenix?"

Newt looked baffled, off-footed and Percival remembered then that he was still all but a stranger and revealing his fairly extensive knowledge of his creatures probably wasn't the best way to make Newt trust him any more. He recovered though, seeming keen on the topic as Percival had seen him be so a hundred times before and twiddled his thumbs in his lap again as he spoke. "They're well…good as can be expected. The Occamy are fully grown now and very well bonded, very protective. Marius' wounds are doing a little better than before even if the sea air isn't exactly helping him as he prefers fresh water even if it's in small doses." He seemed to get into a flow of sorts as he spoke more and Percival nodded along, encouraging and offering verbal prompts that weren't interrupted by the room's other two occupants. It felt as if they were in a holding pattern, slowing down the initial crash so that Newt might lower himself into the darker areas that were looming ahead at a safer rate.

It only slowed when he reached discussing the Phoenix and his brows creased, voice slowing out of its soft rhythm "The Phoenix… I don't know…he doesn't seem quite right…doesn't seem to trust me as much anymore – it's a miracle he ever did in the first place but…he seems more guarded and guarding too. He treats me like I'm…volatile but also protects me from…from greater threats…" his voice cracked here, and the rapidly blinking eyes became clearer, more like green-tinted glass that shone brightly though not wetly. Tina jolted in her seat suddenly and she tugged upon Theseus' arm, drawing him where he had been regarding Newt in silent contemplation for the past hour or more. Newt did not look up from where his eyes were boring a hole in the beige carpeted floor, but Percival caught the meaningful look that Tina speared the Auror with as she drew her partner from the room. From the fleeting glance he got of Queenie's distraught face as the door swung shut behind the couple, he got the distinct feeling that Tina had just been alerted by her sister mentally of something that the younger woman had picked up on in Newt's head from the kitchen. As much as Percival appreciated that Queenie couldn't control her powers all the time, it did worry him to think if the effect that invading Newt's mind might have on him, though he hadn't made comment of it if he had noticed.

Taking the hint after the kitchen door closed, wafting the smell of cooking meat through and causing further worry to gnaw at him as he remembered what that scent might do to Newt's already fragile state of mind. He used his position by the window to his advantage to make the move look more natural and opened it to let some of the cool, smoke and rain scented night air in and subtly cast a charm to help dispel the smell further out of the room. He turned back to Newt, but he was forced to step aside hastily as Newt stepped swiftly up to lean on the wall by the frame, parting the curtain and staring out into the dark. Newt was breathing in deeply and Percival stepped over to the opposite side of the frame and mirrored his actions, though himself more for the purpose of not making the magizoologist uncomfortable with his prolonged stare.

There was a remarkably easy silence for long minutes before Newt, again, was the one to break it, not looking at Percival but with a stronger note claiming his voice than before. "I'd still like to know."

"Sorry?" Percival asked and Newt looked across at him levelly, though slightly down through his long lashes in a way that made Percival's heart ache at the familiarity.

"How we were…involved." Newt clarified and continued in a rush, as if keen to get it out in the open. "I've tried to picture it…how I would have…known you… a hundred different ways and none of them quite fit with what I can remember. There are feelings there…lots of them but they're all jumbled together and knotted into things that don't exist for me. It hurts to try to remember on my own but I don't…I don't want anyone else in my head trying to explain it to me or digging about for things that just make me feel…" he swallowed, looking unfairly contrite "Guilty." He looked over at Percival's sad eyes in desperate question. "I have all this guilt and confusion and…anger. It scares me and I…there's a part of me that doesn't want to know what I did to you that was so wrong but if I'm ever going to make amends for it then…then I should know." His eyes hardened a little there "I would appreciate it if you could tell me….and not lie or withhold anything for any reason…don't think to spare my feelings because I don't have much left to spare at this point." He cracked out a dry laugh and there was moisture shining in his eyes then, if only for a second before he sniffed and blinked back to the near blankness, piercing Percival.

"I…not that you would remember…but I once made a vow that I would never lie to you and I only once broke that promise and, in that case, it was more a matter of lying by a matter of inflexion." Percival confessed, seeking out the other's trust as he once had it through his candour. "It was when you came to me asking that I would imprison you so that that bastard Grindelwald's possessions couldn't hurt anyone else." He spoke through slightly gritted teeth but forced his tone to remain as even as he could manage. "I agreed that I would do whatever it took to stop Grindelwald from using you to kill and that I would… that I would kill you if I had to." He swallowed, looking deep, searchingly into the glassy green. "I couldn't do that but I wanted to put your mind to rest so told you that I would…as selfish as it may be and as much as it is a usurpation of my vows as an Auror, I would have put your life ahead of others."

"Why?" Newt's face was very slightly flushed, brows furrowed, the glassiness shifting in his eyes to something a bit softer than Percival couldn't quite place.

"I've been told that I can a stubborn bastard about most things and it's no different when it comes to protecting the ones that I love." He admittedly with a very slight wry smile twitching the corners of his lips, own eyes shining unrepentantly with unshed sentiment.

"I… I suppose that's something we might have in common." Newt offered him a very small, timid smile, tilting his head towards where he had set down his case by the armchair earlier. "The feelings certainly seem right in my head but…" He paused, as if searching for the proper way to articulate it "I don't have anything to attach it to…it feels hollow without the memories behind it and the…the only thing that I can recall of an even vaguely similar nature it…well, Grindelwald…not love – not that…but…something else…" he looked irredeemably frustrated then, with himself, with his missing memories and likely with the whole Morgana-damned position that he'd been forced into in the first place.

Newt straightened abruptly from where he had been gradually slumping against the wall and moved towards the door with purposeful steps that sounded in desperation and Percival instinctively reached out a hand to catch Newt's wrist, feeling shock burn through him when they both disappeared in a blind twist of apparation. He got the feeling that Newt hadn't meant to either apparate or take him along with him but now they both stood on an empty street that while was wholly unfamiliar to him still seemed to be of the city variety if the rain and mud-slicked cobbles and dilapidated slate-roofed buildings about were any gauge. Warm orange light burned only in some of the surrounding curtained windows and it cast Newt's pale face into a half-hellish glow that perfectly accented the torment that now shone through clearly in his gaze. It was like the glass had cracked and shattered under heat bubbling within him, something burned through the blankness and his pupils had even shrunk, leaving the green, blue and brown flecks shining brighter.

He hadn't jerked back from Percival's grip as the Auror had expected him to, had expected him to wrench himself through and head for the hills as he had before…but he didn't. Newt simply stood there, half-frozen still in the midst of turning from him and eyes wide and undoubtedly scared. Percival slowly released his grip on the younger man's worryingly fragile feeling wrist and slowly ran his thumb along the side of Newt's in the same way that he had so many times before. Newt's eyes blinked once, twice and then fixed upon their touching hands in bewilderment, mouth opening a few times as if to speak before shaking his head just slightly. It didn't seem to be in denial though, more like he was trying to shake loose a troublesome notion and Percival held his breath, hoping, hoping that he'd managed to do something to trigger a memory. Something. Anything.

"M-mr Graves…" Newt began, voice soft and almost pleading and Percival released him as though burned, sensing that he had made a mistake and that nothing had come of the gesture. He shouldn't have expected such a dramatic change after the failure of gesture last time. He pressed two hands firmly over his face, pressing at his smarting eyes and turning away only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder, pressing down softly through the material of his dark suit jacket. "Cabbages!"

Percival turned abruptly, dark brows furrowed in confusion and concern eating at him that something vital had finally broken for good in his head for several long moments as Newt stared at him questioningly, desperately though with a very slight smile as well. Then it clicked and he too let his lips spread thin but amused across his face. "I believe that I do indeed owe Dougal some. Thank you for reminding me, I would so hate to break my promise to him."

Newt's smile became almost childlike in its goofiness even if his eyes remained haunted and guarded beneath their sheen of blue-green and he nodded, seeming pleased at the smallest flicker of recollection returning that included Percival. "He'd be terribly disappointed. I'd wager that he probably hasn't forgotten quite as much as I have…even if it has been so long…it feels like a long time at least…?" he trailed off and Percival nodded in encouragement, confirming the surmising.

"A year ago…when we are both in the clinic together in Austria…if you remember that?"

"I remember being there, yes, but…I thought my case had been taken away…including Dougal?"

"That's right, but that Demiguise had been the one to make sure I actually lived long enough to make it to the clinic. He brought me Dittany when I was injured in the fight trying to free you. I asked you what his favourite was, and you said it was cabbages."

Newt nodded softly, slowly "I remember telling that to someone and I suppose it makes sense that it was you. Up until now I kind of assumed that it had been Tina or maybe Queenie…when they visited."

"That would make some sense given the circumstances." Percival replied evenly, not letting any more of his frustration or melancholy leak through more than he could help so as to not make Newt feel any more of the same than he was already clearly feeling. "Is that the only thing you can remember?"

He hedged the question and Newt flushed slightly before reaching into his inner coat pocket and withdrew a scrunched-up sheaf of papers that he hastened to smooth out before holding them out to Percival. He took them with some curiosity, flicking through them and quickly recognising his own handwriting and realising that they were the letters he had sent to him over the past year or more. Every one of them had been saved and he could sense the charms that lay upon them – likely cast by Newt before his memories went – that had kept them safe and mostly intact but for a few wrinkles. He knew from experience that not much survived in Newt's house or case unless it was heavily warded against both creatures and just general environmental damage. It warmed his heart to think that Newt had kept them and that now they might act as a lifeline – a further piece of proof to the magizoologist that what he felt and what Percival was telling was real.

"I found them in one of my safe-spots in my case…thought I'd keep them around so that it might help me remember something." Newt admitted, shoulders shrugging slightly as he eyed the letters with mild frustration creasing his features even as he accepted the papers back from Percival as the Auror returned them. "It…it sort of helped, I think, but I'm not sure how much of it is real."

"I could help you." Percival offered simply, not for the first time but with some degree of firmness more than he had previously – less hesitant and pleading and more like his naturally assertive demeanour.

"I don't doubt you could but…I'm not sure if the guilt will be worth reawakening and inflicting my…difficulties upon you."

Percival had to fight a bitterly reminiscent smile as he knew it would be thoroughly inappropriate "You said something very similar to me before…after the last time that bastard-…the last time that he abused you to the point that you thought you couldn't come back from it. I'll tell you more or less the same thing I told you before – none of this is your fault. You told me what happened…what he did and as much as it hurt to see you hurt like that…I knew – I still know – that you can carry on being what you always have been. Not someone who can be broken apart by the likes of Gellert fucking Grindelwald - someone who can stand up against him and continue to be the most caring, wonderful individual that I've ever had the fortune to meet." He felt his own eyes smouldering as Newt's met his again, warm and wide against all probability in the dim half-shadowed streetlights. "And I only hope that I might have the chance to do so all over again. I want to help you, Newt, and whilst I appreciate that this is more difficult than I can likely ever understand, I hope that whatever decisions you make, you do so in your own interests." He let out a hoarse chuckle "I think the world can stand just one more person being just that little bit selfish if that's what helps."

Newt's expression had been gradually growing softer, more accepting right up until the end when the hardness descended, and Percival inwardly cursed himself for the slipup and its apparent significance in Newt's mind. "It was selfishness that let Grindelwald free – on my part and on Dumbledore's. The world is going to suffer now because of two men arguing over my fate and my being selfish enough so as to allow that to happen."

"It's not your fault, Newt – it never was! Grindelwald is wholly responsible for his own thrice-damned actions and Dumbledore is no different! Whatever they did or are doing is no fault of yours."

"It is my fault that I apparently encouraged Grindelwald in his…. fixation on me…in what we did…that I engaged in…in that sort of…perversion and" his voice turned to a whisper then "enjoyed it whilst I was… I was…romantically involved with you!" He was flushed bright crimson now, seemingly both in anger and mortification at the words that were spilling forth from his lips. Percival felt cold anger clench at his insides and his face went slack with the effort to remain in control of his rage. It was something that was hitting a very frayed nerve. The thought of Grindelwald forcing himself upon Newt was awful enough without adding the possibility that Newt had actually encouraged him onto it. He hadn't shown his anger before for fear of hurting Newt further in his fragile state but now…with Newt saying it so fiercely…it was salt in the wound.

"I saw you, Newt." His voice was quiet, harsh and hoarse but nearly inaudible over the light pattering of rain on rooftops and cobblestones. Newt paled as he spoke further, jaw clenching, face white and strained beneath the freckle dusting and scars. "I saw you after Grindelwald did what he did. And there's no way in hell that I can believe that what happened was of your choice. Not with what he did to you or the state you were in after. He'd been messing with the damn bond and with your mind for months before it happened and I'm willing to bet anything that he did the same then…whatever happened was because you're too damn kind-hearted and empathetic for your own good and because he used that to get what he wanted. But the fact that you're still here and still pretty damn whole proves that you're stronger than you think – whatever he said or tried to make you believe you were or felt is wrong."

Newt didn't speak for long enough for Percival to think he was about to bolt again, posture tense and eyes wide before it seemed to leak out of him again and he shook his head softly. "I'm not 'whole'. Not even slightly. I'm running on potions to just get through the few hours I set aside to make sure that Theseus wouldn't call out a bloody Ministry search party. Me being around anyone right now – especially my brother and the friend who is also carrying his child…I can't be around any of you. I shouldn't be here, and it was foolish to think that I could explain any of this and still be able to make any sort of a…clean break."

"If you're worried about Grindelwald doing anything to hurt them, I promise that I will do my best to help protect them-"

"You didn't seem to be much good at defending anyone against him before." Newt cut in bluntly. "Not me. Not yourself. He captured you and tortured as easily as he did me, didn't he? I gathered that much, and I remember him using your identity to hurt people. The only clear memories I have of you or even anything close to you are him using your face to cause more harm." Newt's face crumpled into deeper frustration – at himself, it seemed, but also at Percival and whilst it rent him apart, he could still understand where it was coming from. "I know better than anyone that Grindelwald can be hard to predict or fight against - by Paracelsus do I know it! – but I would rather you not make promises that you can't truly keep just to make me feel better."

He let out a half-hysterical breath of laughter, pressing a shaking and equally pale hand to his forehead, scrubbing it almost violently across his face as he continued, muttering the words incredulously into his own palm. "I can't believe that I'm even trying to tell you any of this – that I'm trying to explain stuff you probably already know or could guess despite the fact that all I know you as is a stranger! You know seemingly everything about what Grindelwald has done to me and all I know you as is a bloody mask for him! Who's to say that isn't what you always were or still are? How am I meant to know what's real when there is so much missing and only him to fill the gaps? How can I trust that you aren't just another voice trying to tell me things that I don't need or deserve to hear?"

Newt's eyes were shining like pools of light with the purest, most heart-wrenching form of desperation that Percival had likely ever seen and he sensed now, that whatever had been holding off the confusion and conflict in Newt until now had most certainly dissipated in the wake of such uncertainty. He began tugging at his collar, pulling it aside to reveal a livid, darkly bruised bitemark on one side and top of the Deathly Hallows symbol scar on the other that Percival knew to be there. Newt's voice was low and cracked. "How can I move past any of this when all I have is reminders of him? Of what I let him do?"

Percival let his anger fuel the boldness that came with the move he made then and stepped forward in quick succession and grabbed Newt's wrist, pulling it away from the marks and firmly placing his own hand over the bitemark instead. He forced Newt to meet to his eyes, looking up into them with a surety that belied his inner conflict. "This isn't from him, Newt. this was from me. You asked for it, yes. But it wasn't Grindelwald that did it. You asked me to do it so that you could make a claim against what Grindelwald had already done to you. You asked me to make it permanent because you didn't want the only lasting marks on you to be from him. You wanted a sign that I loved you to be there. If that doesn't tell me what you wanted or didn't then I can't think of anything else that would."

Newt had frozen in his grip and Percival maintained eye contact for several seconds more before he removed his hands both from his grip on Newt's wrist and his collarbone. If Newt wanted to bolt now, then he wouldn't be particularly surprised, but he made sure to keep his gaze earnest and level upon Newt's own. He seemed to struggle with words for some time, lips pressed together in a thin line before he eventually averted his gaze then looked back at him through lowered lashes that cast shadows on his cheeks in the orange semi-glow of the curtained windows around. "So you're saying that we…that we were um that er…intimate…" he cleared his throat slightly, flushing pink and blinking rapidly before finishing in an awkward mumble "…physically too?"

"On several occasions, yes." Percival spoke, fondness lacing his tone but carefully hiding his misplaced nostalgic amusement at seeing the magizoologist so abashed – knowing that the Newt he met a year ago would find the idea preposterous and that the Newt before him only had memories of much darker kind plaguing him if he thought of relations of such a kind.

Newt nodded slowly, as if absorbing the information before he gestured to his neck where Percival's lips had once made their mark "And this…this wasn't from Grindelwald." It was phrased as a statement, but Percival nodded encouragingly anyway. He seemed to consider it further before sighing out a shaky breath, stepping forward, invading Percival's personal space in a way that while wasn't unwelcome was also somewhat troubling given the slightly manic shine his eyes had taken on since the dam broke. "You do realise that's there's no easy fix for… this? That I'm not going to suddenly snap back to being the man that you knew overnight. I feel…different. Even my creatures seemed to have sensed it…they treat me like I'm dangerous…volatile…and I'm honestly not sure if they're wrong…"

His voice was so sad, so soft that Percival couldn't hold back the warmth in his eyes anyone and the tears began to trace their way in thin trails down his cheeks, carving out a warmer path through the rain. He swallowed past the thickness in his throat, not letting the tears ruin the firmness of his voice as he spoke "Maybe you are different, Newt, but perhaps that isn't such a bad thing. You've voiced more of yourself to me tonight than I ever expected you to and if you managed to see that sadistic, delusional bastard again and still have the courage to come here…maybe it just means that you'll come out of this stronger than before."

"Certainly doesn't feel like it." Newt huffed out with a shade of humour but also some degree of thoughtfulness that had a tendril of hope rising within him – that Newt might be seriously considering his words.

"It won't. You've got through Grindelwald's bullshit before and I believe that you can do it again."

"But not by sticking around the people who he sees simply as things that can be used to hurt me when I don't do what he wants" Newt replied firmly "or someone who can only remind me of him."

"Now that I can understand." Percival admitted, weight in his heart and voice "I left before. From the clinic because I knew that he had used my face to hurt you and I knew that leaving you was better for you. I tried to convince myself that staying away was for the best and I think it did for a while, but we still found our ways back to each other. Do you remember Queenie and Jacob's wedding?"

Newt frowned and inclined his head slightly "If I recall correctly, I spent most of it in my case. Wasn't very sociable at all, nothing new, I suppose" He let out a nervous chuckle "I remember Theseus acting like an ass and leaving early… made quite a scene I think."

"Try to think about why you spent so long in your case. Why Theseus was being more pompous and controlling than usual. Who he was arguing with…" Percival prompted, hoping that it might jog something if he pushed Newt in the right direction of the memories concerning himself.

Newt shook his head, frowning deeper "I can't…there's just nothing there…it's like…like trying to cast a line but there's not even any water to throw into…it's just air. I try substituting in your face to what's missing it still doesn't feel right…got no ground to stand on so I just keep on sinking…or floating…it's hard to tell with any certainty…" He looked back up to meet Percival's gaze apologetically, frustration simmering hotly and hands trembling violently even as he fisted them at his sides. "I'm sorry...I can't."

"It's not your fault, Newt."

He offered him a crooked smile, crooked in that only half of his face seemed to be able to fuel it "Well I highly doubt that the one who's actually at fault is going to be offering apologies any time soon."

"I can't argue with you there." Percival conceded with a huff, channelling his frustration into movement against his slightly atrophied muscles that had stiffened in the cold and rain, looking about at the darkened street once more before turning back to Newt with an inquisitive, gauging quirk of the eyebrow. "I don't know about you, but I would rather not stand about in the street all night, would you be willing to return to Theseus'? I'm sure that Queenie and Jacob could whip you up something that doesn't contain meat."

Newt looked mildly surprised by the thought before shaking his head, though seemingly in bemusement rather than denial "I shouldn't really be surprised that you know about that too by this point. Is there anything that you don't know about me?"

The question was half bitter and half genuine and Percival offered him a smile that seemed to send a slight shiver through the magizoologist as his cheeks flushed again. "Well if there was anything then I wouldn't be able to tell you, now would I?"

"I suppose not." Newt's smile was fully formed in that moment, sad and cracked around the edges but genuine and it made Percival's own lips twitch up to meet them in a mirroring image across his face. The magizoologist reached forward and tentatively gripped Percival's coat-covered forearm and apparated in a flash that might've once surprised him with the speed and accuracy but by now, he expected it from the Scamander brothers. Newt especially. They were back in the living room and startled a clearly agitated group of Americans – especially Jacob – who nearly dropped his plate onto the carpet only for it to be saved Queenie's quick wand work.

"Shoot, sorry bout that," Jacob mumbled, accepting the plate back from his wife with a grateful grin and an awkward glance back toward Percival and Newt, the latter of which had released the former's arm rather hastily. "Nice to see ya again, Newt."

"You too, Jacob. It's been a long time." He offered a weak but again genuine seeming smile though didn't move forward to accept the proffered hand to shake and the No Maj lowered it awkwardly. Newt paused, scratching at the back of his head with one hand absently before looking about the room in a clear plea for someone to do something to break the silence.

Queenie brightened as brittlely and artificially as the lights that shone above them and gestured towards the kitchen door "Well dinners still warm if anyone's hungry?"

One by one they all filed in behind the Legilamens and Percival's careful eyes tracked every move that Newt made and twitch of his face as the Auror followed behind him into the room that thankfully now smelt overwhelmingly of a strongly herbal cloying scent rather than of the former smell of roasting meat. All could sense the webbing of charms that had been used to achieve the difference, but none mentioned it aloud. Looking around, Percival realised that he couldn't see the elder Scamander anywhere around, the backdoor was slightly ajar and in the depths of the darkened garden, he spotted the slight glow of a lit wand-tip. He apparated outside without a second thought and somewhat delighted in the startled gasp and muffled swearing he prompted from the Brit as he hastily dropped and stomped upon the lit cigarette he had been holding. Theseus turned and his look turned from guilty to irritated as he saw that it was Percival. "Damn it, Graves, thought you were-"

"Tina?" Percival asked with a tired smirk and offered his wand-tip to light the next smoke that the other was fumbling from his pocket. The Brit paused before leaning down to light up and breathed out a mouthful of smoke into the cold air with a glare.

"She doesn't want me smoking at all, let around her right now."

"Damn straight."

"Things are difficult enough without me buggering up my child before they're even born…more so than I already have." He looked mournful and scornful in equal amounts.

"Enough of that, Scamander." Percival admonished cuttingly and Theseus looked up abruptly "Newt can't have you falling apart right now. Neither can Tina." He grimaced but looked over at the other levelly, any awkwardness he might have felt at the following words having already been drained out of him into so many other things. "You're a decent man and I suspect that you'll be a decent father too. No matter what your own father was like, it obviously didn't ruin you or Newt so don't expect that just because you had a shitty example that you'll do the same." He smirked a little at the dumbfounded look on the other's face "Besides, I damn well doubt that Tina would let you do anything too stupid with any child of hers."

"Now that I can agree with." Tina's voice sounded from behind him and both jumped, Theseus repeating his earlier drop and stomp with a flush rising in his cheeks. She stood there, arms crossed over her chest and a half stern, half-amused expression upon her face. "Both of you get inside out of the rain, sit down and behave like civilised people." Her brown eyes drifted to Percival and turned softer "Newt wanted to eat in the living room if you want to join him. Said the smell was still making him feel ill. Or rather didn't say it I suppose but Queenie knew what he meant."

The elder American nodded gratefully and followed the two back through the kitchen, snagging a plate that thankfully contained no meat and just a plentiful supply of roasted, mashed or boiled vegetables and a hefty chunk of homemade seeded bread. He entered the other room to see Newt perched upon the edge of a chair, head in heads and plate left neglected on the floor by where his feet were tapping out an uneven, nervous rhythm upon the carpet. Percival stood for several seconds before silently going sit in his previous seat, going about eating and letting Newt sit for as long as he needed before he eventually noticed that Newt was sweating profusely, pupils blown wide again, and his previous trembles had intensified drastically.

He placed his meal down and hastened toward Newt, crouching before him and carefully gripping his wrists, drawing them away from where they had been digging into the sides of his face. There were red imprints left around the thin white lines where silver had once lain, he had been pulling just as he used to when experiencing invading, traumatic memories and as Percival had done before – so many times out of instinct – he pulled Newt into his arms. His brain caught up with the action seconds later and froze, attempting to move back before Newt shoved him away but felt surprised when that didn't happen. Newt, too, had frozen, sinking slightly back into the cushions of his chair and as rigid as if he had been petrified. He was shivering still but just barely and Percival wrenched himself back in horror as he saw the fear plain in the younger man's eyes…the distant expression that suggested that he was far away from the reality of the situation and that – as it had many times before – his mind was warping that reality into something much more familiar and terrifying.

"Newt? Newt! What are you seeing?"

The magizoologist seemed insensible to his cries, staring straight ahead and while his eyes were upon Percival, they clearly weren't seeing him. But then Newt spoke and Percival felt sure that something within him broke. "You…you tried to…you hurt me…you pinned me down and…- you were there…in Nurmengard…you-" he cut himself off as his eyes properly focussed, still blown wide but recognising him properly now in that current time and place and the terror in them had Percival moving back hastily on shaking legs, horrified and furious in equal amounts. Horrified that the first memories to return to Newt of him were not in fact of the real him but of Grindelwald's impersonation.

Fury because he knew that Grindelwald had probably intended for it happen this way.

"No, Newt, no, that wasn't me-"

Anger flooded Newt then as he too stood, pushing himself off the chair in a fluid movement that belied his shaking, drawn appearance. "You're just like him, aren't you? How could I have ever been so stupid so as to believe that you weren't just like him? That I could ever make someone love me who wasn't a monster?" He looked distraught and disgusted and furious - each word he spoke tore at Percival like serrated hooks in his heart, in the very flesh of it and jerked the words from his chest with the force of it.

"NO, Newt! That was not me. It was Grindelwald. All it ever was was him trying to mess with your head. You told me about it – in Nurmengard he assaulted you and used my face and Dumbledore's too so that he could hurt you more. He's trying to confuse you now too – he's trying to make you push yourself away from me so that he can make you think that you love him and not me. But it's not true, Newt – you may have some sort of feelings for him but you loved me and I'm sure you still do – all you have to do is remember!"

Newt was glaring at him fiercely "You act as if it was that simple – how do I know that you're not lying to me and trying to do the same thing that he is? I don't know why you'd bother going so far with all this unless you were just as sadistic and deluded as he is. You both find it fun, don't you? Messing with my head and watching me break apart?"

"I would never do that to you, Newt. I am nothing like Grindelwald. I wouldn't ever put you through what he has – I love you for more reasons than I can count but none of which include wanting to abuse you as he has. Grindelwald tortured both of us and if I ever get my hands on him I swear to you that I will skin the bastard for what he's done to you but I would also offer him the mercy of a quick, painless death if that's what you asked me to do because ultimately you were the one who's been most wronged by him of anyone."

"You say that like it's supposed to be a revelation, Mr Graves. It isn't. And as for you loving me…?" Newt paused, swallowing hard and eyes flickering with a cavalcade of pain and conflict "He says he does too. What makes your…fascination any less damning than his? You may not have hurt me yet this time around, but you seem more concerned with me remembering you than with anything else – is it to assuage some guilt of your own? To try to justify what you've done? I don't remember much of you at all, but your actions now seem more borne of a need to absolve yourself of something and whatever it is, is your business – not mine." His gaze softened, more to himself but still frustrated beyond control "As I said before, you seem earnest enough in whatever you mean to do but I would very much appreciate it if you would leave me to my own affairs."

"Newt-" he began but Newt shook his head minutely, stepping around him widely, arms raised as if to protect himself from Percival's frozen advance.

"Please don't, Mr Graves, I… I shouldn't have come here in the first place." He headed towards the door, calling his suitcase to his white-knuckled, shaking hand as he did so and only pausing to look back with a fleeting glance of apology. "And please…tell Queenie that I'm sorry she had to hear…any of this." He made a vague gesture towards his own head before turning on his heel in a blur of colour.

Percival blanched and moved to follow but wasn't quick enough this time to snag the blue-coated sleeve of the man who had left him so inwardly disintegrating. He felt a gentle pressure push upon the borders of his own mind, testing the Occlumency fields and finding them soft after the alcohol and due to his lack of concentration and a moment later he heard the door click open behind him. A soft, feminine arm wrapped around his shoulders and a petite hand gripped onto his shoulder as Queenie pressed her head into the side of his arm, he could feel her shuddering with tears but neither turned to look at the other as they both stared at the spot that had so recently contained a distraught magizoologist and friend.

"He's hurting so bad, honey." Queenie's voice was soft and very sad against his arm and he nodded, ignoring the burning in his own eyes again even as it spilt over slightly. "He didn't mean to make you feel like this. He doesn't know what he's doing and he's messing around with stuff that he just shouldn't to try to make it all go away…"

"I know…I just wish he would've stayed…I could've left and you could've helped…" he trailed off as he felt her shake her head, drawing back a bit and twisting around to brace both hands against his lower arms with a firm look in her brimming eyes.

"No, it wouldn't've made a difference anyway. He was gonna leave no matter what you did. He only came here to make us feel better. I can't be around him now because he don't want me in his head. He don't want anyone in there and I can see why. I can't control it when there's pain just… leaking outta him like that." She sniffed, wiping her eyes and smudging her carefully applied makeup as she did so but not seeming to care at all for the wide black smudges she left in her hand's wake. "He needs time to sort out what's going on and I don't think that there's anything any of us could've done right now to change that…he just needs time and for you to be there when he fixes that… damn huge hole in his brain."

Percival's attention snapped a little more into focus at that and questioned her softly, desperately "You were in his head? You saw what was missing? Do you think there's anything that you could do to-"

She shook her head sympathetically "If there were anything don't ya think I woulda said?" Her gaze was haunted, and Percival could only imagine what she had seen and heard in Newt's mind and did not envy her being subjected to Grindelwald's unsurmountable abuses of Newt even second hand. "He kept pushing me out without even realising he was doing it. Hurts just being around him even before he starts thinking about…any of that…it felt like he was trying to push himself out of his own head and just did the same with me too…the hole started off different before his memories got taken but then it just…didn't stop getting bigger…"

"Will they come back? The memories? On their own, I mean?"

"I don't know, honey, I just don't know. This ain't like any normal obliviating or potion work I've ever seen and whatever that bond thing did when it came out was different from any normal magic even if it was…Grindelwald who did it too…"

"Right." Percival murmured, not sure how to articulate his frustration and feeling his fists clenching repeatedly at his sides, going straight for his half-full glass from earlier and downing it in one swig and quickly moving to fill it back up again. He paused before pouring out another two, offering one to Queenie who went at it bravely and then holding it up to the figure he had earlier glimpsed hovering at the kitchen doorway, stern and silent.

"Cheers." Theseus muttered without any tone, moving towards to take it and attacking it with the room's communal misery laden boldness. "Should've expected this really."

"Hm." Percival grunted, sitting down heavily in his seat again and ungently toeing aside his cold dinner plate.

"Queenie's right. He never would've stayed long. And right now, you're just a face with a whole lot of confusion tacked onto it with no real meaning to anything. I know you don't want to let go of him, Graves, but if there ever was a time…" He fixed a stare dead on and surprised Percival by continuing in a dead, bitter but meaningful tone "this would not be it. You were probably one of the few things keeping him going towards the end while he was in that damn cell…after what Grindelwald was doing…without that all he can see is darkness and if remembering you is what brings him back from…whatever the hell this even is…you've got my support in it."

Percival returned the other Auror's stare directly for several moments, gaugingly before nodding slowly "I'll do my best to try to make him remember but I think that Queenie has a point about him needing time. All we can do for now is keep tabs on him to make sure he stays about as on the rails as he can…"

"What do you think I was doing whilst you and Newt disappeared off into nowhere?" Theseus asked, gesturing with his glass to the spot where Newt's case had resided with a slight snort of derision.

"You charmed it?" Percival asked with a raised brow and Theseus nodded, sipping his drink until even the dregs were gone and placing it smartly down on the table.

"Had to have a lot of damn practice with keeping an eye on that idiot, going on twenty-odd years now, did you honestly think I'd leave him vanishing off again to chance after his stunt at Nurmengard?"

"And knowing Newt do you honestly think that any of those charms'll go unnoticed for long?" He commented with a very tired smirk.

Theseus grimaced and half-shrugged "Best I can do for now and in my experience, Newt can often be found simply by following the trail of destruction to the biggest damn creature related disaster there is, and he'll be right in the middle of it."

Percival's own grimace widened, and he tipped his drink in the other's direction in a gesture of acknowledgement "Damn straight."