A/N: Hello everyone! Before you proceed, please be warned that this fic is no longer spoiler-free. The "spoilers" I am referring to are the character descriptions released in a Collider article some weeks ago. Some of the descriptions in that article were revealed in the Heyman and Yates interview I was referring to in my notes at the end of the first chapter. At the time, I considered them big spoilers, but now that they've been officially released and more people are aware of them, I no longer count them as too spoilery and decided to include some of it, so here's your warning in case you haven't read the article. The spoilery details that will appear in this chapter are those concerning Jacob and Queenie (and in turn involve Newt and Tina in some way), but everything else remains my speculation and/or what I originally had planned for this story.
"How did you get your memories back?" Tina asked Jacob. Having helped take care of the aftermath of the ZouWu situation, the two were now walking away from the scene to the address Newt had given. Tina didn't feel much like apparating, preferring to walk to help clear her thoughts. Jacob doesn't seem to mind.
She'd first asked Newt about Jacob's memories earlier at the circus, where she saw Jacob for the first time since the events in New York, but the Magizoologist brushed her off by telling her he'd explain later. In his defense, there really hadn't been time to explain much at all; between encountering Credence at the circus to him setting some of the circus creatures loose (one of them being the ZouWu), then transforming (voluntarily, it would seem) into Obscurus form before disappearing into the night, the escaped ZouWu effectively distracting them from finding him.
"You're not gonna like it."
I didn't think I would, she thinks as anxiety begins to bubble in her stomach, not for the first time that day. "Tell me anyway."
There's a pause before Jacob continues. "It started with dreams...of the creatures. Didn't think much of it at the time, and there really wasn't much to go on, but then…" He pauses, evidently unsure of how to proceed. "Look before I tell ya, I didn't know––"
"Queenie came to see you." It wasn't a question.
Jacob sighs. "Yeah."
Tina sighs too, steeling herself for what he's going to say next. "Then what happened?"
There's another pause that does nothing to soothe her anxiety, before he finally says, "Maybe we should sit down first."
Tina apparates them to an alleyway near the Pont des Arts – a pedestrian bridge over the Seine – where they find most benches unoccupied at this hour, save for one taken by a canoodling young couple. As they reach a bench three away from the couple, Tina feels her fatigue rushing over her all at once. Beside her, seated at a respectable – perhaps careful – distance, she knows Jacob feels the same tiredness; the two of them exhale in unison when they sit down.
An elegant street lamp that emits a yellow light stands a few feet ahead of them, flanked by long stretches of the bridge's railing. Beyond it, the serene waters of the Seine stretch out towards the city, the edges reflecting the steady burn of the city lights like in an oil painting. Above, twinkling stars are scattered about the night sky, and there's a tug in Tina's chest when she's reminded of someone's freckles.
She looks over to Jacob, who's still facing the river, and waits for him to continue. It's only now that she's had the chance to really look at him. The baker is dressed much smarter than when she'd first met him, wearing a slate gray suit and waistcoat, from one of its buttons is a fob watch chain that glimmers yellow under the streetlamp. His stocky form is wrapped in a chestnut colored greatcoat checkered with light grey pinstripes, and he himself seems to emanate a sense of self-confidence. Evidently, business is doing well. From where she's seated she can also spot the scars left by the Murtlap from what felt like ages ago – four small, fang-shaped marks on the skin below his right ear, bulging a bit like swollen veins, but faded from red to the overall color of his complexion.
That was something special about Mr. Kowalski: he'd had every reason to want to expose Wizardkind. Having had that first unpleasant encounter with one of Newt's creatures, any other no-maj would have threatened exposure or run straight for the hills, but Jacob, even as he fell deeper and deeper into their world, seeing firsthand both the good and the bad, did neither. He helped to find Newt's creatures, helped Queenie as Newt and Tina were escaping the execution chamber, and willingly stepped out into the Obliviative rain even though he wanted nothing but to stay and to remember. Along with his humorous, magnetic yet also humble character, it wasn't hard to see, really, why her sister fought so ardently to be with him.
So ardently, in fact, that it had practically driven the two siblings apart. Following Tina's reprimand of Queenie's visiting Jacob and Queenie's insistence upon going against her older sister's wishes, the normally inseparable Goldstein sisters had begun to drift painfully away from each other. Though they continued to live in the same apartment, they had never felt farther apart.
Since Tina's reinstatement, they hardly saw each other at MACUSA as their workplaces were far apart at the Woolworth Building. At home they also saw less of each other because of Tina's longer (and odder) working hours, which caused her to frequently arrive home when Queenie was already in bed. There were also times when Tina was the one to arrive home first. Queenie wouldn't come home until much later, in the wee hours of the morning, and Tina would be lying wide awake in bed, having waited for her to come home, then when her sister finally tiptoed into the dark of their shared bedroom, she'd feign sleep (and put up her Occlumency shields for good measure) until she fell asleep for real. In the mornings, the older sister would wake before the younger (aurors had earlier starts) but always made enough breakfast for both of them.
When Tina had to leave for Paris, she made it a point to tell Queenie in person. Her portkey was scheduled to leave early in the morning, so she made sure to come home earlier that night. She didn't know how long she'd be gone, and she hadn't wanted to leave things between them so cold, but she thought, given the rather half-hearted goodbye she received the night before her departure, that perhaps some time apart was exactly what they needed.
When she woke the next morning, the sun hadn't come up yet, and neither had her sister. She prepared a nice breakfast for her to have when she woke: pancakes and a cup of hot cocoa with an extra bit of caffeine (a beverage they both loved with breakfast) and set them with a warming charm. Her cooking wasn't the best, she knew – Queenie was always the more skilled at artistic endeavours like dancing, cooking, designing and making clothes – but she hoped her sister would read her gesture to be the tentative peace offering she couldn't put to words.
Normally, there was no need for her to put thoughts into words or gestures because of Queenie's abilities, but considering how they'd fallen out over the past few weeks, she didn't want to leave without at least letting her know, in some way or another, that she still cared very much for her. And so, after a last look at her little sister's peacefully sleeping form, she disapparated to MACUSA, ready to take her portkey to Paris.
In Paris, Jacob clears his throat beside Tina, pulling her out of her thoughts, and turns towards her on the bench. "The first time she came 'round to the bakery was in March," he explains. "I didn't recognize her, but…somethin' felt familiar, ya know? She must have...read that 'cause over the next few weeks she came by more often."
"At some point, I asked her to dinner and she said yes, and it just...went from there." His voice shrinks almost shyly at the end of that sentence, and his eyes dart over to her face, gauging her reaction. Tina tries not to let too much show on her face, but it's late and she's exhausted. She manages a nod, wordlessly telling him to continue.
Jacob's hands start to run up and down his thighs – a nervous habit. Tina's own hands have been clutching each other on her lap, their grip on each other ever so slowly tightening as the man beside her continues his tale. "I didn't know she was a witch yet. She didn't say. But um…a few weeks ago...I–I gave her a ring."
Tina's heart drops to her stomach. She turns her head away from him and looks towards the river ahead, trying to process the information. In her panic she doesn't see Jacob beside her, scrambling for something better to say, then realize there's no other way to put this story that could make her feel better.
"Then...she took me to England."
At this Tina's head turns back to him immediately, her heart pounding and her face etched with worry. "What?"
"I didn't know she was gonna do it. I didn't know what was happening," he defends, "I was outta my head, she – she did something to me...some sorta spell so I wouldn't know what was happening...wouldn't be able to resist."
Tina's now turned to face him on the bench once more, hanging on to every new detail. On her lap, her short fingernails start to dig into the skin of her hands, but she barely feels it.
"Next thing I knew, I was in England – we were in England...at Newt's place," he breaks off briefly to study her, as though thinking the mention of Newt would somehow upset her. "She told Newt to undo the um...Obliviating...so he did."
"And then, I got upset," he proceeds, lightly flinging an arm in frustration. "Told her she shouldn'ta brought me all the way there without asking properly, ya know?" Guilt passes over his face. "Then she got upset...and then she left. Newt and I just guessed she'd gone here...to look for you."
Tina's hands are fidgeting nervously in her lap when Jacob says nothing more, and when she realizes her eyes have started to well up with tears she turns to face the river again, feeling so numb and heavy with the weight of this revelation that she wants to collapse.
Queenie was here. In Paris. Looking for her.
The silence between her and Jacob stretches on as she tries desperately to ground the thoughts that are running rapidly in her head – Queenie wearing Jacob's ring...Queenie roaming the streets of Paris looking for her, overwhelmed by hearing thousands of thoughts in a language she doesn't understand...Queenie in Paris, where attacks have been occurring left and right...Grindelwald on the loose...Credence...Newt...Newt and Leta––
"I'm sorry," Jacob says softly, bringing her out of her reverie. From the corner of her eye, she can see he's still facing her.
"Don't be. It's not your fault," she replies, turning her head to meet his rueful gaze. "If it's anyone's fault it's mine."
The look on his face is both questioning and disbelieving, so she speaks up. "When you were Obliviated, Queenie was devastated. Even when she wanted me to think she was doing fine – and for a while, she nearly had me fooled – I knew she wasn't."
"A few months ago, I got back from England...for work. I... wasn't feeling too great, and she was there for me. A few weeks later, she told me she'd been seeing you, and I got mad at her," she shakes her head, chuckling bitterly.
"Well, you were just––"
"Trying to protect her, yeah," she interjects, nodding guiltily. "But what if I had just trusted her?"
When Jacob doesn't say anything she goes on, "Everyone has something – or someone – that they're willing to risk everything for. In Queenie's case, it's you." Take it from someone who knows what that's like, she thinks. (While her younger sister is and always has been her top priority, she can't help but think of Credence too; and the image of him crying and cowering on the floor crosses her mind, Miss Barebone towering over him with a belt half wrapped around her hand, the buckle end dangling wickedly before the young man's face, preparing for its next strike. The memory, coupled with seeing Credence again earlier that day, angrier than he's ever been, makes Tina's eyes sting even more.)
Jacob remains quiet, but she thinks she can see a glimmer of something in his eyes – hope, relief. She gives him a small smile, but feels her mouth tremble slightly. "I should have accepted that sooner. And I should have trusted her." She's raised me just as much as I've raised her. And it's not as if I haven't had my fair share of breaking the rules.
"And now, she's in even more danger because I made her feel like she couldn't come to me first – the only family she has left." Her voice shakes and shrinks increasingly as she reaches the end of her sentence, and she turns away from Jacob to hang her head over her lap and lets her tears fall, hoping her hair would be enough to hide her crying face. But when her shoulders begin to shake she realizes there's no point in hiding, and allows her sobs to escape her, uninhibited, for just a few seconds before trying to rein it all in again, shaking her head furiously as though to shake off the emotion.
"I'm sorry," she sniffles, trying to subdue the tremor in her voice as she hastily wipes away her tears. "I don't usually break down like this––"
"Hey, no, it's okay," Jacob quickly reassures. He's moved a bit closer to her on the bench, trying to figure out how best to console her. "It's okay, just...here," he takes a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket and holds it out in front of her.
"Thank you," she says, gratefully accepting the handkerchief and using it to wipe her face.
"My grandma always said when you gotta cry, you gotta let it out. It's not good to keep everything in."
She manages a watery smile. "My mama used to say that too." Of course, it was all too easy to forget that when you were so preoccupied with raising your sister and trying to be strong for her.
"I think you're wrong, you know. I don't think it's your fault. You didn't know she was gonna react the way that she did…No one knew any of this was gonna happen. You were just tryna look out for her, like you always do. There's nothing wrong with just wanting her safe."
The sincerity she finds in his eyes is enough to bring more tears to her own, but she thinks she sees something else in them that hints at a story behind his words, and for a second she's tempted to ask; but instead settles for a wobbly, grateful smile.
"Y'know if you wanna talk about it...I'm just here," he offers tentatively, then when she doesn't say anything immediately, he retracts, "or if you don't want to, it's fine––"
"I just did," she replies, not unkindly, but plainly.
"Yeah, yeah, o' course, 'course," he's quick to reassure, but not long after she's turned to face the river, he tries again. "It's just...I kinda got the feeling that wasn't all of it."
She looks down at the handkerchief she's now fidgeting with on her lap, thumb swirling haphazard circles on the powder blue cotton fabric. "It's…" she shakes her head, trying to find a way to explain without having to say much. "It's complicated."
For a few moments, neither of them says anything so she looks to Jacob and realizes he's waiting for her to continue. Spurred by the need to talk to someone and touched by his patience and by his being there – lending a handkerchief and offering to listen – she yields. "I just...didn't think I'd see him again. Not here, anyway. We didn't leave things in a good place. That was part of the reason I went to England – to see him, but..." she trails off and takes a few deep breaths when the memories fill her eyes with tears.
"It's been months now but it's still so hard," her short laugh is both bitter and incredulous. "And then I come here to work and to forget, but then he comes here too, and with her. And she's engaged, but he still…" she sighs, "and it's not even his fault. I know I can't blame him for it but…" she shakes her head and stops to wipe away a fresh wave of tears.
There was no need to mention any names; whether or not Newt has told him anything, she knows Jacob is perceptive enough, given how he'd easily noticed that there were other things upsetting her – which he'd presumably surmised from simply being around her and Newt (and Leta) the last few hours.
For several moments, neither of them speak. As she's drying her tears, she briefly wonders whether she's said too much – perhaps she shouldn't have said anything at all. But the silence isn't uncomfortable, and she doesn't sense even the slightest judgement from the man beside her, who she now realizes is her sister's fiancé, her soon-to-be brother-in-law. Possibly.
Months ago she'd have been outraged at this engagement, and in some ways she still is, after all, the laws in America have not changed, and she doesn't think they will for at least a very long time. But there's a resoluteness in the way she rises from the bench and beckons Jacob to do the same with a cock of her head. It surprises her. Perhaps it's her fatigue, her guilt, the emotional release she'd just unloaded on Jacob, and her longing to make things right with her sister all combined. There's still a small part of her that wonders whether, come daylight, she'll come to her senses and resolve to somehow end the engagement when she finds Queenie. But she's determined not to let it come to that, as that line of thought is exactly what drove her sister away in the first place.
When Jacob stands he comes up to somewhere just above her chin, just a tad shorter than Queenie in heels. He looks up at her a bit expectantly, studying her to check if she's alright. In reply, she pulls out her wand and wordlessly magicks his handkerchief clean. The fabric then unfolds in mid-air, each crease straightening out before it folds itself twice into a neat, freshly pressed square and lands softly on her palm. He watches the whole thing wide-eyed.
She holds it out to him. "Thank you." It's not just the handkerchief she's thankful for.
He smiles kindly and knowingly, and takes it from her before stuffing it back into his breast pocket.
"We'll find her," she assures, though it's directed to herself as much as it is to him, "I promise."
He nods, the smile not leaving his face. "Yeah."
She returns the smile and leads them back to the alleyway from which they arrived, where she takes him by the arm and, recalling the address Newt gave, disapparates them.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I apologize profusely for how long it took me to update this. I had to pause writing this chapter for about a week to attend to other things, then had a difficult time getting my momentum back when I resumed. But at 3k words, this ended up being longer than I promised any of these chapters would be, so I hope that makes up for the delay somehow.
I had a lot of fun writing Tina and Jacob's dialogue, but it was also a challenge as this was my first time writing Jacob. I originally planned on making this chapter Jacob-centric, and in those earlier drafts I wrote a bit about him losing his brother in the war (which was revealed in a deleted scene from the first film). I still wanted to include that when I made this Tina-centric but I couldn't really see it working out, so I instead settled for a very, very, very subtle allusion to it.
Thank you again and please let me know what you think! Questions or violent reactions are welcome in the comments below or on my tumblr clairfoye or on my twitter mrsmaisels.