It's been seven months since I first began writing the first draft of this fic, originally for purely my enjoyment and with no intention of publishing it...and here we are, ten chapters in, the fic is finished and I'm posting the last part of it here for anyone interested to read. It has been months of love, devotion, sweat, tears, panic and goodness knows what else but I'm proud to say that I have finished this absolutely TITANIC fic. There are things I want to go back and write better, but perhaps that's for the future - for now, I'm simply proud of the work I've done given that it took a long time and I genuinely tried my best.
I won't talk too much here as I don't want to give away spoilers for this chapter, but what I will say is that it involves a character death that may cause you to need tissues, and something that could potentially piss a LOT of people off. I hope people enjoy it anyway.
Apologies in advance as this chapter is unbeta'd!
Under the surface of the ocean, bodies were whirled and spun like limp dolls as the vortex sucked them down; some were struggling spasmodically, tumbling about as they kicked hard for the surface. The ship sank lower and lower, dragging many of her passengers with her as she fell, destined to meet the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean within the hour.
Tina was still clutching tightly onto Newt's hand as they fought against the force pulling them down; her lungs burned from holding her breath for so long, though it was nothing compared to the painful cold that now enveloped her. She was only vaguely aware of him gesturing frantically to her to swim upwards, but she could already feel herself start to rise due to the buoyancy of her lifejacket - her lover did not have the same luxury. All of a sudden she felt him being torn away from her grasp, pulled deeper by the suction caused by the sinking ship, and he disappeared in a frenzy of bubbles. She wanted to dive down for him, to help him, but she knew that if she didn't surface quickly then she would run out of air at any second; knowing that she couldn't help him if she drowned, she kicked hard and swam upwards.
When Tina finally surfaced, gasping for breath, it was to a roiling chaos of screaming and thrashing people. Over a thousand passengers and crew were now floating where the ship had gone down; some were stunned as they took deep breaths after being submerged, others were crying, praying, moaning, shouting - but the most chilling sound was by far the screaming.
"Newt!" Tina shouted frantically, shaking the hair from her face and trying to tread water as she looked around. "Newt!"
It was difficult to make sense of everything in the madness that had descended; people were clawing at others, trying to grab onto any of the floating deck chairs or debris that had been thrown overboard, driven insane by water that was four degrees below freezing. It was so cold that it felt like it burned her, and she remembered Percival once telling her and her sister that an intense freezing temperature was indistinguishable from death by fire - they had not believed him at the time but now she realised that he had, unfortunately, been telling the truth.
Desperate to find him, she started to swim forwards in the hopes that he would resurface nearby. "Newt? Newt, where-?"
Suddenly she was being pushed underneath the water again, a man who had been nearby trying to climb on top of her so that he could get out of the cold. She tried to nudge him away, eyes burning from the water, and managed to lift her head above the waves once more - only for him to push her down yet again. After a few seconds she bobbed back up, her lifejacket presumably thrusting her, and in the time it took for the man to put his hands on her head, she had taken a deep breath and given a loud shout.
"NEWT!"
"TINA!"
To her utmost relief, Newt was swimming through the crowd towards her, clearly cold and soaked but thankfully alive - and he looked rather furious when he realised what the man was doing.
"Get off of her!" He snapped, and he shoved the man away with a surprising amount of strength; when the other man tried to come towards them again, a fist connected with his nose and he fell back, dazed and bleeding from the nose.
Tina coughed out the seawater that she had accidentally ingested and reached for her lover. "I thought… I thought you were…"
He gave a grin that looked far more like a grimace. "Takes more than that to kill me. Tina, we need to swim - we need to keep moving."
Tina followed him slowly as they swam away from the clot of people, though her strokes were nowhere near as effective as his because of her lifejacket impeding her movements; Newt kept looking at her from over his shoulder, gnawing on his lower lip. He knew he had to find some kind of floatation - anything - to get her out of the freezing water if she was to survive; he just hoped that it would not be too long until the lifeboats came back for survivors, that they'd be rescued soon.
"That's it, keep swimming!" He called back to her, though it was difficult to hear over the chorus of tormented souls who were wailing, screaming and moaning. Even worse was what lay beyond them: nothing but black water, stretching towards a horizon that they could not see, and leaving them feeling overwhelmed with a sense of isolation and hopelessness. Desperate not to think about this, he kept swimming with rhythmic strokes of his arms, relieved that the effort was keeping him from freezing for now.
Behind him, he heard her shudder. "It's so cold!"
"I know, but just swim, Tina!"
They were now passing more and more dead bodies, bobbing eerily in the water among the living; Newt scanned their surroundings desperately for something they could use and - to his immense relief - noticed something large nearby. He reached back for Tina so that he could help guide her towards it, and she panted with the effort it took even just to draw breath in the cold water whilst she swam.
As they got closer, he realised that it was a piece of wooden debris with intricate carvings on it - like a large wall panel or something similar, he thought hopefully. "Come on. Here… that's it, get on the top." He helped push her up out of the water and onto the piece of wood, and she slithered onto it belly down with a groan until all of her body was on it. "Yes, well done!"
"Come on, you get up here too," She mumbled, breathing heavily as she tried to catch her breath.
But when Newt tried to clamber on, it tilted horribly - Tina gave a small scream as she started to fall back into the freezing water, quickly reaching to grip one of the sides so that she wouldn't come off completely. He hurriedly removed his weight from it and instead held it steady so that she could balance her weight again on it. "Stay on it. Stay on, Tina."
She wasn't looking at his face as she settled herself once more, and he was glad because it was at this moment that he realised that his luck was - finally - drawing to an end. He knew it and was at peace with it, but that didn't mean she had to know yet; she would kick up a fuss if he said it aloud, if he told her of his realisation, and insist that they take turns on the debris - and he couldn't allow that. She had to survive, he thought, and that was all that mattered now.
Instead of trying to climb on again, he drifted towards the edge closest to her head and clung to the piece of wood as close to her as he dared; at least his upper body was kept somewhat out of the water this way, and he could stay close to her. Their breath floated around them in a cloud as they both panted in exertion, and it took a few seconds before he managed to find his voice again.
"You'll be alright now," He mumbled softly, putting one of his hands over hers. "You'll be alright now…"
Suddenly there was a series of loud splashes and the sound of heavy breathing from behind him; Newt spun around in the water at the sound, noticing quickly that another man was swimming towards them, clearly having seen the piece of debris. Immediately he frowned and raised a hand, as if to ward him off.
"It's just enough for this lady," He stated warningly. "You'd push it under."
"Let me try at least," The man begged, water leaking from his mouth as he spoke. "Please, or I'll die soon!"
"You'll die quicker if you come any closer," Newt informed him, his tone so sharp that he even surprised himself.
The man hesitated, clearly debating his chances of winning a fight in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean; finally he gave a small nod. "Yes, I see. Good luck to you then." His eyes drifted to Tina briefly. "God bless you both."
As he swam away, Newt turned back to Tina and once again rested his upper body on the piece of wood as much as he could; he put his hands on her shoulders, giving them a soft rub as he sighed. "Keep moving as much as you can, Tina," He mumbled, looking around for any signs of the lifeboats but finding none. "Just…keep moving."
As he gazed about, he noticed that there was a ship's officer nearby; Chief Officer Wilde was stranded on his own piece of debris and blowing his whistle furiously, the sound carrying over the water for miles. There had been so much chaos, and the water so cold, that Newt hadn't even realised someone was blowing a whistle. After a moment, the whistle dropped from the officer's lips and he shouted as loudly as he could. "Return…the…boats!" And then he was blowing the whistle again desperately.
Tina was shivering violently as she followed her lover's gaze, her lips blue and her teeth chattering. Newt merely gave her a half-hearted reassuring smile as he clasped her hands in his. "The boats are coming back for us, Tina… Hold on just a little bit longer." His voice shook slightly as he shuddered from the freezing temperature, but his eyes were as bright as ever. "Th-They had to row away for the suction, but now they'll be coming back."
She nodded stiffly, his words helping her by giving her something to focus on other than the cold. They were still amid a chorus of the damned, people screaming as they called to the lifeboats they could not yet see, and she was still so cold it felt like being burnt alive, but at least she had Newt with her.
"Thank God for you, Newt," She whispered.
He merely smiled again, somewhat painfully, and squeezed her hand tightly in his own.
In Boat Six, Seraphina Picquery-Graves had covered her ears against the wailing in the darkness. The other first class women in the boat sat, stunned, listening to the sounds of over one thousand people screaming. Hichens, however, seemed to remain rather unmoved - or perhaps he was just better at concealing his fear.
He exhaled heavily as he looked at everyone on his boat. "You don't understand… if we go back, they'll swamp the boat! They'll pull us right down, I'm telling you!"
Molly Brown stood up, somewhat uneasily due to the rocking of the boat, her chin raised high and her eyes full of steel as she looked at him. "Knock it off. You're scaring me." She shifted her gaze from him to the other women huddled in the boat. "Come on, girls; grab an oar. Let's go!"
None of them met her eyes, nor did any of them move; Hichens stared at her in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind?! We're in the middle of the North Atlantic! Now, do you people want to live or do you want to die?"
Molly looked around at all of them, her eyes blazing. "I don't understand a one of you," She declared passionately. "What's the matter with you? It's your men out there!" A few of the women gave muffled sobs but still no one made any movement to do as she had asked, too terrified by the quartermaster's words. "There's plenty of room for more!"
"And there'll be one less on this boat," Hichens snapped. "If you don't shut that hole in your face!"
The woman pursed her lips but said nothing else, instead sitting down; in the silence that followed, the sounds of people crying and a whistle blowing seemed even louder, more dreadful.
And still Seraphina closed her eyes, covered her ears, and prayed to God that one of those screams did not belong to her husband or to the seventeen year old girl she had grown to care for despite herself.
In Boat One, Sir Cosmo and Lucile Duff-Gordon sat with just ten other people; their boat was two thirds empty. In the darkness, the screaming was a mere two hundred yards away and seemed to echo in all of their ears, under the empty seats that should have been filled, filling them all with dread.
Finally, Charles Osker Hendrickson - a leading fireman who had worked in the boiler rooms of the now sunken ship - gave a loud huff. "We should do something ."
Lucile squeezed her husband's hand, her eyes pleading with him - she was clearly terrified. Sir Cosmo hesitated before laying a hand over hers and looking around at the others in their boat. "It's out of the question."
The crewmembers, intimidated by a nobleman, acquiesced to this; instead, they all hunched guiltily and hoped that the sound would stop soon.
Officer Harold Lowe, the impetuous young officer who had been designated in charge of Lifeboat Fourteen, had managed to get Boats Ten, Twelve and Collapsible-D together alongside his own; he was holding a torch as he looked at all of the passengers, quickly directing those on the oars to bring themselves closer to his boat. "Now bring in your oars over there, and tie these two boats together as well… That's it, now make sure that's tied up nice and tight!"
As some men quickly did as asked, he looked back over his shoulder in the direction that the ship had gone down - and where there was now the dreadful sound of wailing from those who had not been lucky enough to secure a place in a boat. Lowe considered things carefully, thinking to himself; none of the boats had been launched full, some were even less than half-full, and it had been some time since the Titanic had gone down. There was perhaps a danger of those in the water trying to swamp the boats, he thought, but it appeared as though those who had been swimming were starting to thin out - it was a risk he would have to take.
His mind made up, he turned back to the other crewmen among the boats. "Right, listen to me, men, we have to go back! I want to transfer all the women from this boat into that boat right now , as quick as you can please!"
They all looked uncertain at his commands, but soon the crew were helping women from Lifeboat Fourteen clamber into the other boats nearby. As the women stepped gingerly across, however, Lowe noticed that a shawled figure seemed to be keeping their head down and in a hurry - too much of a hurry.
"Not too quickly, madam," He said, reaching out for the back of the shawl - and then it came away, and he found himself staring into the face of a young man. Anger filled him as he shoved the stowaway onto the other boat, absolutely disgusted. "How dare you?! Get in there!"
The man looked suitably ashamed even as he scrambled to take a seat amongst the women. Once all of the passengers had been transferred safely, Lowe turned to the other crewmen and looked at them all critically before choosing three of the most skilled ones to come with him to look for survivors; none of them looked particularly thrilled at being chosen but got onto the boat with him with no fuss.
"Right," Lowe exhaled, readjusting his grasp on his torch and preparing himself. "Man the oars; we rescue as many as we can."
The moaning had steadily grown more and more scattered as time wore on, the two of them drifting under the stars above; the water was so glassy that they could see the stars reflecting on it, like a black mirror. There was the faintest undulating swell of waves, but other than that it was still. Nearby Officer Wilde had stopped moving and was instead slumped in his lifejacket, looking almost asleep - but they both knew he had died of exposure already.
Newt drew his eyes away from the sight of the dead man and slowly reached for the hem of her longcoat; wordlessly, he squeezed the water from it before tucking it tightly around her legs and resuming rubbing her arms. His face had grown even more pale now, like chalk in the darkness, and there was ice clinging to his lashes; as he shivered and put his arm back on top of the plank of wood, his breath came out like a mist.
"It's getting quiet," Tina mumbled quietly, resting her hands and head against his arm.
He looked around wearily. "It's just going to take them a couple of minutes to get…to get the boats organised." She didn't move or respond, just staring into space: he had a feeling that she knew the truth, knew that there would not be any boats, and he was desperate to not let her lose hope. "I don't know about you, but… but I intend to write a strongly-worded letter to the White Star Line about all of this."
She laughed weakly, but it sounded more like a gasp of fear than anything else. For a few moments neither of them spoke, the distant cries dying out one by one - and then she looked at him in the darkness, finding his eyes in the dim light, and managed to find her voice. "I love you, Newt."
He had always found eye contact so horribly difficult, even when it had been his brother or Lally, but he had never felt that with her for some reason, and perhaps that was why his gaze didn't shift from hers; instead he met her eyes directly, and he saw that the fire he so admired about her was starting to die out - and he could not allow that, not while he still had some life remaining in him.
"Don't," Newt told her, his voice firm despite how hard he was shivering. "Don't say that - don't say your goodbyes. Not yet, do you understand me?"
She closed her eyes, and when she spoke it was in a defeated tone. "I'm so cold ."
"Listen, Tina," He urged her, and he was relieved when she opened her eyes once more to look at him; every word was an effort to say, his body already starting to shut down, but he forced himself to continue. "You're going to get out of here… You're going to go on and…and you're going to have babies and you're going to watch them grow. You're going to die an old, very old lady, warm in her bed." He smiled wanly. "Not here. Not tonight. Not like this . Do you understand me?"
Tina gave a small sniff. "I- I can't feel my body."
"Please listen to me, Tina. Winning that ticket was the best thing that ever-...that ever happened to me." His breathing was heavily laboured, his body trembling as the freezing cold worked its way to his heart - but his blue-green eyes remained unwavering on her own as he smiled genuinely. "It brought me to you . And I'm so unbelievably thankful, Tina. I'm thankful…"
She seemed to be crying at his words, though it was hard to tell as any tears had frozen on her cheeks.
"You must… You must… You must do me this honour," Newt managed, shivering violently now; with great effort, he lifted his other arm out of the water so that he could tightly clasp both of her hands in his, his gaze never faltering. "You must promise me that you will survive…that you'll never give up…no matter what happens…no matter how hopeless… Promise me now, Tina…and never let go of that promise."
Tina swallowed the sudden lump that had formed in her throat. "I promise."
"Never let go," He pleaded softly, his breath only somewhat warm against her fingers.
"I will never let go, Newt," She promised, her eyes filled with tears. "I'll never let go."
Newt brought their intertwined hands together and pressed his lips softly against where they were joined; as he pulled away, he was grinning despite the obvious pain he was in, his own eyes glistening.
As they continued to wait, Tina gripped her lover's hands and laid her head down beside where his own rested on the wood. It was completely quiet now except for the gentle lapping of the water - all of the screams had stopped.
The beam of an electric torch played across the water like a searchlight as Boat Fourteen came from the darkness towards where the ship had gone down; Harold Lowe scanned the area carefully, determined to not miss a single soul in his search. As the men he had chosen to come with him rowed forwards, his light illuminated floating debris, and they were suddenly on a poignant trail of flotsam: a violin, a child's wooden soldier, a framed photograph of a steerage family…and then they saw the white lifebelts, bobbing in the darkness like signposts, and the first bodies came into the torch's beam.
It did not take them long to realise that these people were dead - not drowned but killed by the freezing water. Some looked peaceful, as if they were merely sleeping, whilst others stared with frozen eyes at the stars above, never to see again.
"Oars!" Lowe called, and the crewmen quickly stopped rowing just as they reached the field of bodies. "Do you see any moving?"
They all looked about their lifeboat, peering in the darkness as the officer moved the flashlight - but there was nothing. "No, sir," One said uneasily. "None moving, sir."
"Check them," Lowe ordered, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible.
The men started to row again, and soon the bodies were so thick that their oars were in danger of hitting the heads of floating men and women; one seaman leaned out of the boat and down towards the water to grasp a woman by her lifejacket - only to let go once more in fright. "These are all…these are all dead, sir."
"Give way. Head easy; careful with your oars, men. Don't hit them." Lowe instructed, but his stomach was starting to churn. As the seaman who had spoken attempted to move some of the bodies away from their boat, he looked around as far as he could see, shining the flashlight around, and cleared his throat. "Is there anyone alive out there?! Can anyone hear me?!"
His voice echoed in the silent night around them, sounding distant even to his own ears; he continued to shout, hoping that he would get some kind of response from someone - even just one person, be it a man, woman or child. After a minute or so, as they moved through the water, his light fell on a woman drifting nearby; to his horror, he saw that her arms had frozen around a baby that was just as lifeless as their mother.
Lowe felt tears prick his eyes at the sight, his heart sinking so low that he wouldn't have been surprised if it was at the bottom of the Atlantic with the TItanic herself. "We waited too long," He murmured, almost to himself as the guilt washed over him.
He had wanted to wait, had thought that swimmers might capsize the boat, that it would be safe to wait before attempting to rescue passengers - he had been wrong, and now the weight of every body he saw weighed heavily on him. It was, without a doubt, the worst day of his entire life.
But he would not turn back, not now: if there was a chance, however small, that they could still save people then he would do his duty and search for them. That, and he wondered if seeing all of their bodies was his penance for not ordering a return sooner - either way, he was determined not to head back just yet.
"Well, keep checking them!" He shouted to the other men fiercely. "All of you, keep looking!"
The stars reflected on the mill pond surface, and it seemed as though the two of them were floating in some kind of interstellar space, both of them absolutely still and their hands locked together. Tina stared upwards at the canopy of the night sky above her, her face so pale, that it was almost ghostly and like the faces of the dead around her, and she briefly wondered if she was floating into a void.
She knew she was dying - the boats were not coming for them. No one would save them now. It was her fate to die here, holding the hand of the man she loved as she took her last breath, and she felt oddly at peace at the idea; she would drift off into a long sleep, something she could already feel stealing over her, and then she would simply fade away. She would finally see her mother and father again, she thought calmly, and she could spend her time in heaven with them - and with Newt, for he would surely go with her. Her sister would be heartbroken, of course, and no doubt that Seraphina and Percival would be too, but they would live their lives and meet her later when it was their time to go.
I have never seen such stars , she thought dreamily, gazing up at them as her breathing grew shallow; she wondered if what Newt had told her a few nights ago was true, if shooting stars truly were people going to heaven, and mused on the idea that each of these stars was someone who had met their end on the doomed ocean liner tonight. It was a poetic idea, and she decided that she liked it despite how sad it was.
Her lips barely moved as she found herself singing the song that her lover had tried to teach her only the night before the sinking, a song that he had told her his mother had sung to him and his brother. Her voice was small, almost inaudible, and so she was not shocked that Newt didn't say anything about her doing this - it was enough that she could still feel his hand on hers, that they were still together.
A shooting star flared suddenly, and a line of light lit across the heavens; she watched it go, her eyes following the star down to the water - and then, as if in slow-motion, she saw a silhouette crossing its path. She had to blink to make sure that she was not hallucinating it, but still it stayed in her line of vision: it was a boat, inhabited by a small crew of men who were rowing so slowly that their oars lifted out of the water like it was syrup. And then she heard their voices, slow and distorted but still so clearly there .
The lookout on the boat flashed his torch towards her, and the light flared across the water; it silhouetted the bobbing corpses between them, flicking past her motionless form, and then moved on. The boat was now only fifty feet away, and it was moving past her; they had thought she was already dead, and the men had turned away.
Tina slowly smiled at the sight, hope warming her chest once more, and gave Newt's hand a squeeze. "Newt… Newt." She lifted her head so that she could turn to him, her hair making a sickening noise from where it had frozen to the wood underneath her; Newt didn't respond, still resting his head next to where their hands were joined, and so she started to shake his shoulder gently. "Newt, come on! There's a boat!... Newt."
But he did not move, and she looked closer at him; his eyes were closed, like he had fallen asleep as he floated, and his entire face was rimed with frost. She frowned and began to shake him harder.
"Newt? Newt, come on… Newt!" She pleaded desperately, tears filling her eyes as she watched him. "Newt, please… please… "
There was no mist in the air anymore from his heavy breathing, only her own, and he was completely motionless; she could only stare at his still face as the realisation went through her. He looked as though he was sleeping peacefully, in a deep and pleasant slumber - but he was not asleep. He would never wake up again.
"There's a boat, Newt," Tina repeated falteringly, a sob catching in her throat. "Newt…"
All of the hope, will and spirit left her in that moment; Newt was gone. There was a rescue boat but it had come too late and now he was gone , he would never come back - and how was she supposed to go on now? She cried softly as she laid her head back down on the wood, her whole body so weak and tired now, and wondered why she should even try; there was no reason to anymore, and it would be all too easy to just allow death to claim her too - at least then she would be with him, could hold him and embrace him and tell him that she loved him again.
But then she heard his voice, clear as day, as if he had come back to life and started speaking to her once more.
Promise me that you'll survive. Promise me that you won't give up. Never let go of that promise .
To give up would be the easy option, the one she yearned for - but then how could she face him in the afterlife knowing that she had not kept his dying promise? How could she face him whilst knowing that she had let go of that promise, of the last thing he had said to her with his dying breaths?
Tina's eyes snapped open and she raised her head suddenly, cracking the ice as she ripped her hair off of the wood; the boat was further away now, the voices of the men fainter. "Come back…" Her voice was so weak that they did not hear her, and the boat was starting to slip away into the night. She struggled to draw breath before trying again, her cries pitifully small. "Come back! Come back! Come back!"
In the boat, Lowe did not hear her; his own shouts were drowning out her quiet calls for help completely as they rowed away. "HELLO! Can anyone hear me?"
"There's nothing here, sir," One of his crewmen said mournfully, and Lowe had the horrible feeling that he was right as he turned the tiller.
"Come back! Please!" Tina tried again desperately, but she knew she had no hopes of making them hear her now - it seemed as though she was going to have to swim to them, though she wasn't sure how far she would get before her body gave in completely. As she struggled to move, she realised that her hand was still clutching Newt's and that they were frozen together - she was going to have to let go of him if she wanted any chance of surviving.
The thought of letting go of him, of letting the ocean claim him from her, was abhorrent - but she knew, somehow, that he would understand that she was doing it for her survival, to keep her promise to him. With a heavy heart, she wrenched her hand from his grip with a sickening crack before taking his fingers in her own one last time.
"I'll never let go," She vowed tearily, pressing one last kiss to his hands and remembering how he had made her feel with them just several hours ago, how they had sketched her and made her feel free. "I promise."
With that she released him and watched as he sank into the black water; she watched as he faded away from view, like a spirit returning to some immaterial plane, leaving her forever, and felt tears run down her face. Goodbye, Newt… Mister Scamander. I will keep my promise, just for you .
Knowing she was running out of time fast, Tina awkwardly rolled herself off of the wood and into the icy black water once more; she grunted weakly as she swam towards Chief Officer WIlde's body, the little strength she had leaving her quickly in the freezing cold. As soon as she reached the debris he had been clinging onto, she pulled the whistle from where it was frozen into his mouth and immediately put it in-between her own lips - and then she blew with all of the energy she could muster.
In Boat Fourteen, Lowe whipped around at the faint but clear sound of a whistle that grew stronger and stronger with each blow - and his heart lifted with hope. "Come about!" He yelled, turning the tiller quickly. "Row back! That way! Pull!"
As the boat quickly came back, all of the crewmen working frantically to reach her, Tina continued to blow the whistle harder and harder; it was only once they had reached her and hauled her into the boat that the tiny instrument was pulled from her mouth by Lowe. She had just enough time to register them all scrambling to cover her with blankets before she slipped into a deep and blissful unconsciousness - and then she felt nothing.
1996
There was complete and utter silence in the room as everyone watched Tina's eyes flutter open, her voice heavy.
"...Fifteen hundred people went into the sea when Titanic sank from under us," She continued morosely. "There were twenty boats floating nearby, and only one came back. One . Six were saved from the water, myself included. Six …out of fifteen hundred."
Tear tracks glistened down her great-granddaughter's face, her head resting on her uncle's shoulder; Rolf, too, had shed a few tears and was only able to stare at his grandmother with wide-eyes. All of the salvage crew who had been listening were also in a state of shocked silence, the weight and reality of what had happened there eighty-four years ago washing over them all - with the old woman's story, it felt as though they had been put on the Titanic in its final hours, and for the first time none of them were thinking about the diamond they had been asked to search for.
"Afterward, the seven hundred people in the boats had nothing to do but wait. Wait to die, wait to live, wait for an absolution which would never come…"
1912
As dawn broke that morning, the lifeboats drifted through the open sea and the survivors huddled together in silence as they waited for salvation. In one boat, Bruce Ismay was in a trance, just staring and trembling; in another, Achilles Tolliver accepted a hip flask offered to him by a black-faced stoker and sipped from it mournfully. Nearby Seraphina rested her head on the shoulder of Molly Brown, the two women hugging themselves and rocking along gently with their boat.
In Boat Fourteen, Tina was awake lying swaddled by several blankets with only her pale face visible as she stared up at the changing sky above; she was only somewhat aware of the man next to her jumping up, pointing and yelling, and of the others on the boat with her soon shouting excitedly - but she heard none of it, feeling as though she was floating beyond any and all human emotion. When she had woken, Officer Lowe had asked her for her name but she had merely shaken her head; thankfully he had not pushed her, clearly understanding the state of shellshock that she was in, and she had been left quite alone. Near the front of their boat, Lowe had lit a green flare and begun to wave it about, clearly excited, and though she couldn't bring herself to move just yet she knew that finally help had come - though it was hours too late now.
It was just after four in the morning when golden light washed over the white boats as they gloated forwards, the calm sea reflecting the rosy sky - and all around them, like a flotilla of sailing ships, were icebergs. What had gotten all of them so excited, however, was the sight of another ship sailing their way: the RMS Carpathia had come for them at last, an hour and a half too late but still the only ship that had heard the distress call in the early hours of the morning and sailed their way.
Rope ladders were thrown down from the Carpathia's gangway doors, and the first survivors from Boat Two were helped up by the crew; those that were unable to climb the rope ladders, such as children and a few who were suffering frostbite from exposure to the water, were hauled up by a makeshift rope sling. Over the course of the next four hours, the lifeboats from the Titanic were unloaded and the passengers brought onboard to safety; by the time Tina was being helped onto the ship by some crewmen, barely able to stand, it was nearly three hours later. Immediately the passengers of the Carpathia were offering their blankets and hot tea to her, helping her to walk along the hall; she knew that Lowe was one of those who had thrown yet another blanket over her, pressing a steaming mug into her hand, but other than that she felt bizarrely removed from everything. All around her people were crying and hugging each other, desperate to know if their loved ones had been saved from the water, and still she felt outside of time and outside of herself - she wondered if she would ever truly feel whole again after this experience.
Some time after her, Bruce Ismay climbed aboard - his face and eyes were that of a soul that knew they were damned. As he walked along the hall, guided by a crewman towards the doctor's cabin, he found himself the subject of disapproving and accusing stares from rows of both seated and standing survivors, mostly consisting of women who were now widowed and children that were now fatherless. Why should he have survived by saving his own skin, they all seemed to silently say, when their husbands, fathers, brothers, had all died so painfully?
One of the last lifeboats to be unloaded was the one that contained Seraphina; hair was starting to come out of her usually tidy turban, dark rings circling around her eyes as she looked around hopefully for any sign of her missing ward or her husband. She saw many a mother and daughter clinging to each other, relieved that they had survived, more than a few young women around her wearing tartan blankets around their shoulders like the one she herself donned, and there were even quite a few men who she recognised from the first-class - but she could not find Tina or Percival, no matter how hard she looked.
They were gone, and she knew she would never see them again.
That afternoon, the deck of the Carpathia was crammed with huddled people; the recovered lifeboats were piled across the deck, and on top of a hatch in the corner there was an enormous pile of lifebelts. Officers walked among the groups, trying to help them find the loved ones they had been separated from, but for most of them there was nothing to be done.
Achilles looked around at all of the widows as he came down the steps from an upper deck, searching for one very particular face - or perhaps even two. A steward nearby noticed his tuxedo and approached him in surprise. "Oh, sir, I don't think you'll find any of your people down here. It's all steerage."
But the man merely ignored him and continued to walk amongst the wrecked group about him, looking under shawls and blankets at one bleak face after another. Nearby a woman was hysterically telling an understanding maid what her husband looked like; another was desperately asking an officer as to whether there was a different passenger list, bursting into tears when she was informed that there was no other list.
Unbeknownst to him, Tina was sitting in a deckchair, a blanket over her head like a hood, and was watching him as he looked about. She took great care in making sure that he did not see her; when he turned in her direction, she quickly moved her face away and pulled the shawl further over her face to shield it from view. It seemed to work as a few minutes later, he gave a heavy sigh and retreated back upstairs - back to his world.
It was a world she never wanted to be in again.
" That was the last time I ever saw him. He married, of course, and inherited his millions - but the crash of twenty-nine hit his interests hard, and he put a pistol in his mouth that year. His children fought over the scraps of his estate like hyenas - or so I read, at least…"
April 18th 1912
It was raining heavily when the Carpathia arrived in New York City that night, pulling into Pier fifty-four where it had departed not so long ago for its original trip before rescuing the survivors of the shipwreck. As people milled about on the deck underneath umbrellas and raincoats, Tina found herself standing by the railing and gazing up at the Statue of Liberty; the last time she had seen it, she had been so small - and now it was welcoming her home once more. She had never appreciated how beautiful it was until this moment, she thought, and she suddenly understood why so many said it was an embodiment of freedom and hope; for the first time in her life, she felt that very empowerment.
She was still staring up at it when one of the Carpathia's officers approached her, a clipboard resting against the hand that held an umbrella and a pen in the other. "Can I take your name please, love?"
Tina slowly turned her head to look at him, and the words came from her mouth before she could think twice. "Scamander. Tina Scamander."
Seraphina and Achilles would not bother looking for someone with the name "Scamander" - why would they when Newt meant nothing to them? To add, he would not have been on the original passenger list given that he had won his ticket from someone else, and so there would be no record of him having been there at all; she supposed that 'Tina' was a common enough name or nickname to field any suspicion too, and so hopefully this would be enough to hide herself from them.
She had made the decision over the last few days as she recovered on the Carpathia, thinking long and hard over it; she did not hate Seraphina, she had loved her as a second mother in fact, but telling her meant that Achilles would have known - and she could not have that under any circumstances, could not risk him finding her and their engagement being fulfilled. This also meant that she would never be able to see her sister again; the thought of never seeing Queenie's bright blonde curls or beautiful smile was enough to bring tears to her eyes, but she couldn't take that risk now. Perhaps in a few years, once they were both older and there was no longer the threat of a life trapped with Achilles, the two could reunite and she could explain everything - but for now it was the only way.
More than anything, however, it was to honour the memory of the boy from steerage with the messy reddish-brown hair and the abundance of freckles who had opened her eyes and made her free. Without him, she would have died in more ways than one and so she owed her life to him. If he had survived, she knew she would have wanted to marry him someday - not immediately, of course, they had only known each other so briefly and they'd been so young, but certainly in the future.
Porpentina Goldstein had died on the Titanic - Tina Scamander, however, would live on.
1996
"Can you exchange one life for another? A caterpillar turns into a butterfly - if a mindless insect can do it, why couldn't I?" The old woman smiled sadly, her gnarled hands holding tightly onto the hair comb with the jade butterfly handle. "Was it any more unimaginable than the sinking of the Titanic?"
Hermione wiped her tears away with her jacket sleeve and sat up from where she had been leaning against Ron's shoulder. "We never found anything about anyone called Newt Scamander," She said quietly. "There's no record of him at all."
"No, there wouldn't be, would there?" Tina mused softly. "And I've never spoken of him until now, not to anyone…" Her eyes drifted to her grandson and great-granddaughter. "Not even to your Pops… at least, not really … A woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets. But now you know there was a man named Newt Scamander, and that he saved me, in every way that a person can be saved." She closed her eyes. "I don't even have a picture of him - he exists now only in my memory." And then - to everyone's surprise - she opened her eyes again, panning over what remained of her family, and smiled somewhat ruefully. "I did have one thing though… just one reminder…"
1912
In the aftermath of the disaster, Tina had done her best to forget that it happened - she wanted nothing more than for it to be a distant memory, her grief almost too much to bear. During the days she was able to distract herself with work, taking up some shifts at a local bistro waiting tables until she could find something better - it was enough to pay for rent on a small crumbling little apartment and for the bare necessities, a life so different to the one that she had lived for seventeen years previously. At night, however, she did not have the luxury of work to distract her from the nightmares of screaming, of dead bodies floating in water, of a man she had loved sinking away from her forever; these terrible dreams had become even stronger when, shortly after the sinking, a recovery mission for the bodies had been launched. She had read the newspaper every day, scanning the list of identified bodies carefully and was saddened to learn that John Jacob Astor had perished, as had Isidor and Ida Straus (though only the former's body was identified as being found).
They had not found him , nor his brother or said brother's girlfriend - if they had, their bodies were not able to be identified - but they did find Percival Graves, identified by the engraved pocket watch he had kept on his person at all times. She had cried herself to sleep on the evening she had seen his name among the confirmed dead, wondering if she'd have been better off freezing to death too before reminding herself of the reason she had fought so hard to survive in the first place.
Other than allowing herself to check the list of identified bodies, Tina had no desire to be reminded of the Titanic, nor of her time on the ship - she wanted to start completely fresh, to be reborn like a butterfly from a cocoon. It was not an easy way of living, granted, and she went hungry on more days than not, but she felt that she was managing rather well given that she'd grown up not having to work a day in her life.
That was until she started to get sick in the mornings, her monthly courses having not arrived since before she had stepped foot on the doomed ocean liner.
She was no fool, she knew exactly what was happening, but she had assumed that there was a different explanation for it; after the stress and trauma she had been through, it was reasonable for her whole body to have been thrown by it and for her monthly bleeding to be halted. And, really, it wasn't completely out of the question to think that she may have simply been unwell due to something she'd perhaps caught at work. She didn't want to assume just in case it wasn't - and she wasn't sure of how to feel if she was , she thought anxiously - and so at first she pushed the thought away. It was only when her clothes started to become much tighter over the summer, her thin body filling out in a way that was certainly not caused by the paltry meals she was living on, that she knew she had to accept the truth.
In the dark one early September night, Tina tentatively pressed a palm flat to her stomach beneath her nightclothes and let out a shaky sigh. "I can't," She whispered, not sure who she was talking to or why. "I can't ."
She barely made enough money as it was to feed herself and keep a roof over her head, let alone with another mouth to feed - and yet she couldn't fathom the idea of giving the child away after it was born, not when it was the only reminder she now had of that one single time with Newt. She considered giving in and writing to Seraphina, to tell her that she was alive; her guardian would not be happy, of course, but she'd be taken care of and then-
And then what? Would Seraphina make her give the baby up? Would she be forced to hastily marry to conceal the illegitimate affair? And if she was, would she be forced to honor the engagement she had done her best to escape from? It was these possibilities that prevented her from doing so, both of them abhorrent.
One step at a time , she told herself whenever she worried about it, I have time to figure it all out - for now, I can work and put away money for when the baby comes. Maybe there's a shelter or charity that can help unwed mothers and their children, or someone who will offer help .
It was nearly mid-October when there was a knock on her apartment door one Saturday afternoon, not long after she had finished a gruelling shift waiting tables, and she cautiously opened it; no one ever paid her visits, she didn't know anyone who would pay her a visit, and so she was rightfully hesitant. To her shock, it appeared as though a ghost had arrived outside her door - or, at least, someone that had seemingly risen from the dead.
The man in front of her had the same messy hair she had lovingly combed her fingers through, though it was a few shades darker, and he was older than the man she had once fallen in love with - it wasn't him, but it was-
"Theseus," Tina blurted in shock, her head suddenly swimming.
He didn't smile, instead nodding his head to her. "Can I come in?"
"Of course." The door had barely shut behind him before she managed to find her voice properly once more, her eyes wide as they stared at him. "I thought you were dead - I didn't see you, so I thought… Nevermind." There was a horribly pregnant pause between them. "Would you like some tea? I was just brewing some when you knocked."
"That sounds nice."
Her apartment was just two small rooms, one of which was a bedroom, and so she led him across from the door to where she had left the kettle boiling on her stove; as she busied herself, she cleared her throat and tried to fill the silence by initiating awkward conversation. "Is Lally-?"
"She's dead," Theseus said shortly, the subject clearly painful. "I searched on the ship, checked the lists of names, checked the damn newspaper every day just in case… She's gone. I know she is, even if they never found her."
"Oh. I'm so sorry," Tina murmured sincerely, taking a moment to pull her shawl tighter around herself. "I truly am."
He gave a stiff nod, his tired eyes drawn to the floor. "Newt-"
"I don't want to talk about it," She interrupted quickly, knowing that if they spoke about it then she'd dissolve into tears once more. "Please, Theseus - it's far too painful."
He gave another nod, this time in agreement, before turning his attention to where her belly was beginning to swell beneath her plain dress. "I just want to know… it's his, isn't it?"
Tina hesitated, thankful that she was so busy preparing tea that he couldn't see her face - but there was frankly no reason to lie. "Yeah, it is. I'm keeping it, if that's what you're asking." She quickly poured the tea into two mugs before turning and passing one to him. "I'm sorry, there's not really anywhere to sit, but…"
"No, it's fine." He took a small sip of his beverage before sighing. "I'll be honest, I thought you were dead too - they said your body was never recovered and they listed 'Goldstein, Porpentina' as presumed dead."
"How did you find out I wasn't?" She asked curiously, wondering if it was possible that her plan to hide from her old life wasn't as foolproof as she thought.
His lips turned up somewhat tightly. "Because I checked for Newt's name on the survivor list and saw a 'Tina' listed under 'Scamander' instead. I'm educated enough to put two and two together, you know." He leaned back against the doorframe as he looked her over, his expression difficult to decipher. "I'll be honest, I thought you'd be living somewhat grander than this, first-class rich girl that you are."
"I'm not that girl anymore," She said sharply. "I've left it behind - I intentionally gave myself a different name when I arrived here, and it's for more than sentimental reasons. Besides, it's not as if I can waltz back to my old life - to my guardian and ex-fiance - like this ." She gestured to her stomach with her free hand. "I don't think I need to tell you that people like them don't look particularly favourably on unwed mothers, especially given the circumstances."
Theseus nodded at this, appearing almost thoughtful. "That's true, yes. I'd say that unwed mothers always suffer in society, however, regardless of what class they happen to be in." He paused, staring intently at her face as he considered everything thoughtfully. "You know that my brother would not want you or your child to suffer, Tina… he'd want security for you both."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "What are you saying?"
Theseus hesitated uncomfortably, clearly uncertain as to whether or not to continue. "It would be a lot easier for you - and for your baby - if you were married. I'm not married and since Lally…since she's gone, I have no desire to find someone else. So I suppose what I'm trying to say is that… I'm offering to marry you."
"No." The response was instant, even as she nearly dropped her mug and glared at him in horror at the idea. "Absolutely not."
"Look, just hear me out-"
"Is that why you came here?" Tina seethed angrily, outraged by the sheer gall of this man to make such a request when they barely knew each other. "Your girlfriend died so you thought you'd move in on your brother's instead?"
His face darkened at her words. "I'll have you know that I had no intention of it whatsoever, and if it weren't for you carrying my brother's child then I wouldn't even dream of asking such a thing because, quite frankly, you mean absolutely nothing to me. If Newt hadn't fallen hopelessly head over heels for you, then maybe-"
"Then maybe what?! " Her voice was dangerously low, her eyes burning with fiery rage.
He seemed to realise that he was going too far because he deflated somewhat, exhaling heavily. "Nothing. I apologise. But it's the truth that he loved you, and he would want you to be looked after. I know it's a very sudden proposal, hardly romantic, but this isn't romantic for either of us; if it was just you then we could go our separate ways, but…" His eyes flitted to her abdomen and grew softer. "It's not just you. It's my brother's child."
"That's not a reason to propose marriage," Tina muttered angrily, shaking her head to herself. "We don't know each other at all - the only time we spoke before today was on that night, and even then it was only in passing. I've done so much to escape a loveless marriage, Theseus, and I'm not going to throw myself into another one."
"It wouldn't have to be a proper marriage," Theseus quickly continued, putting his tea aside on the kitchen table as he took a step closer to her; she took another step back, as if frightened by him. "It would be in name only, just so that you don't have to suffer being an unwed mother - so that your child won't have to suffer being born a bastard." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm trying to be chivalrous here - I can't just leave you knowing that you're struggling, not when I know how much Newt loved you, how much he would have loved this child if he was around to meet them."
"I'm already six months along," She hissed weakly, placing a hand on her belly. "You don't think it'll raise questions if we get married and three months later a baby comes along?! No priest in their right mind would marry us!"
"It's just a suggestion," He reminded her awkwardly. "We could lie and say we were married just before getting on the ship but the document got lost in the sinking - they can't disprove it then, can they? They wouldn't ask questions, they'd understand… And this way, your child would still have Newt's surname, and we look similar enough that if the child looks like him, then it still won't raise any suspicion." He gnawed on his lower lip, clearly unsure himself. "It's not for any reason other than that - than wanting to do my duty to look after the woman my brother loved, I promise."
Tina was torn as she considered his proposal, feeling very uncomfortable about the whole thing. "Theseus…"
"I don't want to replace him in your life," He said gently, eyes glassy. "I could never do that, and I don't want to - and you're not a replacement for Lally either. I don't want you to take her place because you're not her, just as I'm not my brother. And I don't want to trap you in a loveless marriage either, and so if in a few years you meet someone else then we can have the marriage annulled and you'll be free to be with someone you love, no hard feelings - but for now, the least I can do is offer you and your child some protection."
Tina looked down at where her hand rested on her bump and back up at him, clearly conflicted. "Can I… Can I think about it?"
"Absolutely," He agreed softly, no trace of judgement or frustration to be found in his voice or his eyes. "Take as much time as you need."
It took three days of mulling it over before she accepted his proposal - though she stressed that it would be in name only , which he wholeheartedly agreed to. It was not a romantic or even memorable wedding day; she wore a plain blue dress and he donned his only clean shirt and trousers, and afterwards they returned to her apartment for a cup of tea to mark the occasion. The only truly remarkable thing to come from that day was when he quietly admitted that the rings used had belonged to his and Newt's parents - his brother would have wanted them for her, he informed her gently when she tried to protest.
In all truth, the marriage changed nothing; for appearances sake, her apartment became their apartment and they were listed as husband and wife on all official documents, but this was where the changes ended. Theseus insisted that she slept in her bed as usual, especially given her delicate condition, and he took up sleeping on the rather uncomfortable ratty little couch they purchased. They had breakfast together before work on most mornings, but the conversation was never particularly intimate or affectionate; it was like two acquaintances more than a husband and wife, though over the following months it admittedly became slightly more friendly as they settled into a routine. Tina hated to admit it, but having an additional source of income through Theseus did make things easier moneywise too, and soon they were able to afford to buy the necessities needed for the baby's arrival.
They never spoke of Newt, Lally or Titanic - it was easier for them both this way.
It was January 1913 when she went into labour and, with the assistance of a nurse in training who lived on the floor below, her son was born healthy and kicking. As she swaddled him against her chest, Tina cried tears of both joy and sorrow, wishing that the man she had loved could have been there to see their son drawing his first breaths - he was the only half-decent thing to have come from the RMS Titanic, the only reason she was glad she had not frozen to death now. When Theseus had come in to see his nephew, he had cried too - the boy already had a thick head of reddish brown hair, and in that moment he missed his brother more than ever.
"What are you going to call him?" He asked her the following morning as he cradled the tiny baby in his arms. "Are you going to…you know?"
Name him after Newt ? Tina shook her head, staring down at the blanket on her lap. "No. As a middle name, perhaps, but…no."
Instead she named him after Newt and Theseus' father, a stern but loving man who had been called Leopold, though she shortened it to 'Leo' affectionately - it was a far better fit for this tiny baby, she thought fondly.
It had been a month since the baby's birth when she tentatively offered to share her bed with Theseus, who looked shocked at the suggestion.
"Not like that!" She hurriedly added, going pink in the face. "But you can't stay on the couch forever, and we can't afford a place with separate rooms right now."
At first it had been awkward, neither of them comfortable with sharing the bed given the circumstances; they stayed on opposite sides as much as possible, not even looking at each other as the nights wore on. Eventually, however, it started to become less and less strange; nothing ever happened between them, and they did their best to not even so much as bump elbows when in bed, but it was manageable for now. It was admittedly helpful when the baby cried and needed something like a nappy change or a cuddle, though they both agreed the feeding was best left to Tina all things considered.
It soon transpired that Theseus was very attentive to his nephew and had no issues in helping wherever he could; he was willing to change diapers when asked, agreeable to watching the baby when she returned to work on the weekends and he had days off, more than happy to assist at bath times or when the little baby cried. It didn't take long for Leo to grow fond of his uncle, babbling and cooing and giggling for him nearly every day when he returned home from work; it made Tina smile when Theseus immediately dropped his things upon arriving home so that he could pick the child up and smother his cherub face with kisses, his face lighting up completely with undisguised joy.
She would have been lying, however, if she'd said that she didn't sometimes wish it was Newt who spent hours helping bathe and soothe their child instead.
Just before his first birthday, Leo called Theseus 'dada' and Tina spent half an hour in the bathroom trying not to cry.
When she finally came out and sat with them at the kitchen table, he looked thoroughly apologetic. "Tina, I'm-... I'm so sorry - I told him not to call me that but I'm not sure if he understood, and-"
"It's fine," She interrupted, voice surprisingly steady as she smiled at where her son played with his spoon from across the table. "It's probably for the best that he calls you that, right? That was the whole point of this arrangement."
Theseus looked between the two of them with uncertainty, a lump in his throat. "We will tell him one day about his father - his real father. I promise."
Tina said nothing, instead focusing on making sure her son finished his breakfast; somehow, she knew that what he had said was a lie.
It was only when Theseus left to fight in the war in the summer of 1917 that Tina realised how much she had grown to care for him, how much she now depended on him - and the thought terrified her.
She didn't want to depend on anybody quite frankly; she was a strong and independent woman who knew her own worth, and she had always mused that women shouldn't need a man of all things in order to feel secure. In a sense, she knew this was still true and that she didn't need Theseus in order to continue living however she liked, to raise her son, to make her life worthwhile - rather she wanted him in her life. Part of this was because of the connection to his brother, she told herself firmly, but it was undeniable that she had grown to like him too; they were very similar people, after all, both of them having grown up with younger siblings and feeling duty-bound to do whatever it took to keep them safe. It made sense that she and Theseus got on so well, even if it wasn't romantically.
The thought of losing him when she had already lost so much was far too much to bear.
Leo asked constantly where his "Daddy" had gone, saddened by his absence and even more so by the sight of his mother worrying to herself. When she received the occasional short letter from Theseus letting her know that he was still alive, she would sit with her son and read parts of it to him softly while brushing a hand through his unruly hair - and he would smile at her innocently because the man he knew to be his father was a hero .
It wasn't a lie because both of the men who could claim that title were arguably heroes, though for different reasons; his real father had been brave, selfless, risked his life so many times that fateful night to keep her safe, and the father figure who now raised him was fighting in a dangerous world war. Both were good men, and to compare them or try to say that one was somehow more worthy of that praise was demeaning to both of them.
Tina did what she could to distract herself in the time that followed, desperate to not wallow in her own self-pity or think too much about the danger her husband was in; she found work for a local paper that had recently lost its Arts and Entertainment Corresponder when he signed up to fight, and she managed to earn enough money to begin saving up for the future - her son's education, perhaps, or even a proper home in an area of the city that wasn't plagued by rats or criminals. Her neighbors were kind enough to watch Leo whenever she had to go out for work or had to work late on an article, and though she disliked being away from him it felt undeniably good to be doing something somewhat creative. In the evenings after she had put her son to bed, she found herself in the routine of curling up with a book borrowed from the library down the street and taking notes on interesting things she learned; various historical periods, the way certain contraptions or inventions worked - though the ones she found herself paying the most attention to were the dusty old tomes that drily detailed different species of the animal kingdom, the topic making something warm settle in her chest as she remembered the enthusiasm the boy she had loved had for it.
It was a year and a half later, in the late fall of 1918, when it was announced that the war had ended and that all of those who survived would be returning home to their loved ones; it was only a matter of days before her husband appeared back on their doorstep, his hair longer and in dire need of a trim, stubble on his cheeks and a shining medal on his chest - but she recognised him immediately. Tina didn't think twice before hugging him, so relieved that she had not had to lose yet another person in her life that she didn't realise it was the first time she had done such a thing in six and a half years.
Seven years after the sinking, six year old Leo Scamander was quite a happy child - he was also, of course, none the wiser about his real father or that the man raising him was in fact his uncle. It was safe to say that, unintentionally, Theseus had grown insanely fond of the boy and had grown used to being called 'Daddy' at this point; at times he felt extremely guilty for being so happy, like he was betraying his brother by loving this child as his own, but the important thing was that Leo was growing up cared for.
It was the early hours of April 15th when Tina turned to him and, wordlessly, buried her face into his neck; neither of them had to say anything, understanding why these early hours in particular were difficult every year for both of them. There were no words from either of them for a long time, instead finding comfort in the embrace that they shared. When her lips found his in the dark, he gave a start but she softly pleaded with him and - despite his brain telling him this was wrong, that he shouldn't allow this to happen - his body obeyed. He watched with wide eyes when she lifted her nightgown over her head, his fingers tracing her skin and lingering on the marks left from where she had bore her child, and tried not to moan at the sight of her; it had been an awfully long time since he'd last been intimate with a woman, and he knew she had not been touched since-
He put the thought out of his head as he removed his pyjamas hastily, determined not to think of it.
It was easy to forget when she pushed him down and sank on top of him, all other thoughts driven from both of their minds completely. The bed creaked quietly as they moved, seeking comfort for just a few moments from the horrific memories and the figure that haunted them both even five years later. Afterwards, when he tried to reach out for her, she batted his hands away and silently cried into her pillow; she didn't stop him when he went to sleep on the couch that night, both of them feeling lonelier than ever.
Both of them were angry with themselves afterwards, angry because they felt they had allowed themselves to be stupid in a heated moment; when they finally talked it out the next evening after her son had gone to bed, Tina could barely look at him.
"You're not Newt," She muttered quietly, fiddling with her fingers. "I don't see you as him, I really don't. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…it's just that we're raising Leo together, and we've gotten so close because of it…"
"I understand," Theseus assured her softly, gently touching her arm. "You're not Lally either - I still miss her every day, but you're not her and you're not replacing her, just as I could never replace my brother." He sighed to himself. "It's this situation we're in - raising this child together, living together…and we both understand it ."
"Understand what?"
There was a far-away look in his eyes, a man haunted by ghosts of the past. "Not many people can understand exactly what it was like that night on the ship, but we both can." He swallowed the lump in his throat as his eyes met hers. "I don't know the exact details of what you went through, even before the sinking, just as you don't know the exact details of my experience - but it was, for the most part, the same event."
"I suppose." Tina hesitated before reaching for his hand and meeting his gaze. "I don't know if I'm ever going to want to talk about it, Theseus - about any of it, especially what me and Newt…" She faltered slightly. "I don't want to talk about it with someone, and I don't think I ever will."
He squeezed her fingers with his, understanding completely. "No. I don't know if I ever want to talk about it again either, and I don't think I can talk about Lally. Not now, at least."
It was the last time either of them mentioned Newt, Lally or the Titanic - not because of a lack of love for their past lovers, but rather because the intense love they had both felt for their respective partners had made it too painful to discuss.
1996
"...Your aunt Evelyn was born in November 1921, of course, and your Pops doted on her just as he had doted on your father." She gave a small laugh. "You'd have never known the truth if you'd seen him with both of them… He was a good man."
"So… So Pops wasn't actually my grandfather?" Rolf asked, completely stunned by this revelation.
Tina shook her head, smiling somewhat wistfully. "No, dear. Your father was the only reminder I had of the man named Newt Scamander - and now, so are you two. I see so much of him in you both," She reflected fondly. "You have the same love of animals as he did, Rolf, and you became what I'm sure he would have dreamed of becoming if he had lived. And Ellie…" Her smile grew even softer as she looked at the teenager. "Your Pops and I knew when you were five and couldn't stand to make eye contact with anyone, when you couldn't go anywhere without your blanket to rub your fingers on, when you cried and covered your ears at loud noises… Your Pops and I both knew that you were like him."
"Did… Did he have an autism diagnosis too?" Ellie asked quietly, overwhelmed by all of the information she had just heard.
"No," The old woman admitted. "There wasn't such a thing back then, people just thought you were odd and mentally incapable - but he wasn't, and neither are you." Her smile faded when they both just stared at her in silence. "I am sorry for not telling you, but I didn't tell anyone - your Pops and I agreed to never speak about that night, and it didn't feel right to share what happened between Newt and I with him."
Ginny cleared her throat, interrupting their conversation somewhat apologetically. "I'm sorry to interrupt," She said genuinely. "But what happened to the diamond?"
An excited silence filled the room as everyone leaned in to listen closer; Tina just closed her eyes and gave a weary sigh. "I don't know, Miss Weasley. I have told you everything - and I do mean everything - about my time on the Titanic . I'm sorry that I couldn't be of more help to you and your team, I truly am, but I have told you all that I can."
The disappointment among the team was obvious, even those who were still emotional from her earlier story; Luna, however, took the old woman's hand and smiled softly. "Thank you, Mrs Scamander - what you've given us is far more valuable than any diamond."
"Try telling that to the investors," Ron muttered to Harry, only to be elbowed in the ribs by a glaring Hermione.
"I think it's time we returned back to the surface," The blonde continued kindly, and the sincerity was obvious in her voice. "We'll get you back to your staterooms and you can rest now; you've done an incredible job. Thank you."
As the Mir submersible raised from the deck of the wreck, taking its light with it, it made one last pass over the once glorious ship - and then it was gone, leaving the RMS Titanic once again its fine and private darkness.
It was late when they were back onboard the Keldysh, the mood among them all rather sombre; wordlessly and without so much as a second look to the research team, Rolf took the handles of his grandmother's wheelchair and wheeled her towards their stateroom with his niece following close behind. As soon as they were out of earshot, Ron gave a frustrated groan. "Well, this is just fucking brilliant-"
"Ronald!" Hermione hissed.
"What? It's the truth. We've just wasted an absolute fuck ton of money diving to a shipwreck at the bottom of the fucking ocean for a diamond necklace that we're never going to fucking find!" He eyed the ocean waves over the railing almost longingly. "Maybe we should just throw ourselves in before the investors murder us."
"It was a longshot anyway," Ginny muttered, clearly trying to put on a brave face despite the fact she was equally disappointed. "At least we can assure them that we tried and that it definitely went down with the ship."
Harry pushed his glasses up before they could fall from his face, thinking everything he had heard over. "It doesn't make sense," He mused, rather confused. "She said that she took it off and Scamander put it back in the safe - but we checked the safe and it definitely wasn't there, and nor was the box. Someone had to have removed it."
"Someone did remove it," Hermione reminded him tersely. "Achilles Tolliver did, remember? He and his valet planted it in Newt's pocket so it looked like he'd stolen it - and that's only if everything she told us was the truth."
"She had no reason to lie about any of this," Luna stated thoughtfully. "I believe everything she told us - she's clearly carried the memories of it for a long time, and now she's finally allowed herself to tell someone about it."
Ginny patted her arm gently and nodded to herself. "You're right. As for the diamond… well, for all we know, Tolliver never bothered to put it back in the safe and it got swept away when the ship went down. It's probably long gone now, whatever happened to it."
The mood between them all was miserable despite her words, the disappointment overwhelming them all; finally, Ron gave a hearty sigh and turned away from the railing. "I don't know about you lot, but I'm going to get as hammered as possible, see if I can forget how much money we've just wasted on this trip."
"For once, Ron," Ginny muttered dryly. "I think you've got the exact right idea."
The night was dark when Luna found Rolf standing at the rail of the Keldysh, looking down into the black water despondently. She pulled her jacket tighter around herself as she approached him, her ashy blonde hair blowing slightly with the breeze, and stopped beside him.
"It's been a long day," She said simply.
Rolf huffed out a breath, shaking his head to himself. "Yeah. It has." He turned to look at her, his face unreadable. "I'm sorry that you and your friends didn't find the diamond after all of this."
"It's alright really - it was never about the necklace for me, to be honest." Luna looked down at the water beneath them thoughtfully, clearly mulling the past few days' events over in her head. "I've been obsessed with Titanic ever since I was young - it's all I've thought about, all I've dreamed about, and now… I suppose this is it."
"Ellie's been the same for three years," He mused quietly. "It's all she's talked about, and this whole trip has just overstimulated her completely. She's still wiping her tears away in our room, you know - glad she came and got to see it, but sad it's over."
"And sad about your grandfather," She added delicately. "I'm sorry that you had to find out like this."
Now Rolf frowned, clearly somewhat conflicted. "That's just it; I can't believe she never mentioned it to us - to any of us. I've spent my entire life thinking that my Pops was my grandfather, that I knew where I came from even though neither of them ever went into detail… but it was all a lie. Everything about me is a lie ."
"Is it?" Luna questioned seriously, and when he looked at her properly she smiled somewhat. "You're still Rolf Scamander, a zoologist, aren't you? And your grandmother is still your grandmother, your niece is still your niece, your family is still your family. I think you're still the same person you were a few days ago, even if you weren't aware of certain parts of your background."
"I suppose," He allowed slowly. "I understand why my Nana did what she did, but… Of all the people to marry afterwards, it had to be his brother?"
"Your grandmother is a very brave woman, Rolf," She said serenely, no judgement in her eyes or her tone. "She has survived so much and is still making every single day count - isn't that extraordinary? Some people live as long as your grandmother and never do anything with their lives, never truly make the most of it: but she has." When her eyes met his, they were bright and seemed to shine. "You're processing right now, and that's okay; you're allowed to feel this way after such a big revelation, and I'm sure she understands that. But I don't think that your grandfather - your biological one - would have wanted her to be alone, to struggle on her own after what happened." She gave a small laugh. "You know, one of Ron and Ginny's brothers recently married his late twin's ex-girlfriend - it may not be exactly healthy , but they're happy all the same."
He thought about the man he had once thought of as his grandfather, his 'Pops'; Theseus Scamander had been a good man, something he had known ever since he was a little boy. He had served in the First World War, raised a family with love and affection, and though he had been stern when it came to making sure his children and grandchildren behaved or did their homework, he had never been unkind. He had always been so proud that this man was his grandfather, and he knew that despite knowing the truth now, this would never change.
Luna looked back out at the water once more, thinking of the great ship below and of the lives lost on that fateful night. "Life can be so strange," She mused softly, almost to herself.
Rolf smiled somewhat shyly as he took her hand, pleasantly surprising her. "Yeah, life is pretty weird sometimes."
It suddenly didn't seem so terrible now that the expedition had ended up being somewhat of a waste of money, nor that Ron was currently complaining to Harry and Hermione on the other side of the ship about how their team had been "pissing in the wind the whole time" while Ginny fielded calls from angry investors - for now, it was enough for both Rolf and Luna to share this moment of quiet understanding together.
It was late in the night when a figure moved through the lights towards the stern of the Keldysh, everyone else onboard currently asleep or drinking their frustrations away. Tina walked slowly through the shadows cast by deck machinery, her white nightgown blowing in the light wind and her feet bare; her wrinkled hands clutched at her chest, almost as if she was praying to herself. In some ways, it was eerily similar to when she had approached the stern of a much different ship eighty-four years ago, desiring to throw herself overboard and to her death - though now she was much older, her once dark hair now flowing white around her shoulders.
When she finally reached the stern, she hesitated and looked down at the water calmly; taking a deep breath, her gnarled fingers wrapped over the railing and her ancient feet stepped up onto the gunwale. Pushing herself up and leaning forwards, she saw the black water below glinting up at her in an almost inviting way, as if willing her to throw herself in; instead, she merely smiled to herself contently and turned her gaze back to what was clutched in her hand as her fingers slowly unclenched from around it.
The massive blue heart-shaped diamond glittered up at her, as beautiful as the day she had worn it when the man she loved drew her.
When the officer who had taken her name walked away that April night in 1912, Tina could remember shoving her hands into the pockets of the coat she was wearing - it was the same coat her ex-fiancé had thrown over her shoulders just a few nights beforehand, and she hadn't had the chance to change out of it yet. It was only then that she had felt something strangely familiar in one of the pockets - something hard and surprisingly heavy. When she pulled it out, she had only been able to stare in amazement at the realisation that it was the necklace - the Heart of the Ocean.
The hardest part of being so poor was being so rich; she had not wanted to keep it, had never wanted the silly thing in the first place, and it would have definitely helped her financially if she had sold the damn thing. But every time she had thought of selling it, she had thought of Achilles - and the thought of using something he had bought, something he owned, was enough to put her off of the idea altogether. She had wanted a fresh start, after all, and the idea of something of his helping her do so was out of the question - and somehow, she had managed to get by without his help. It was for the best really, she reflected, because no doubt selling the necklace would have raised questions and led him right back to her after all she had done to escape his clutches.
As her hand closed over it again, Tina's eyes grew infinitely wise and deep in thought; people looked for treasures in the wrong places - only life was priceless, making each and every day count. She had privately kept this necklace for eighty-four years, not telling even her husband that she had done so, waiting for the right time to let go - and, having finally told her story and made her peace with that night, she knew it was time.
With an impish grin, Tina tossed the diamond necklace over the railing and into the dark sea below.
It was like a great weight was lifted from her shoulders as it disappeared from view, twinkling as it sank into the depths of the Atlantic, and she exhaled contentedly to herself as she looked up at the stars. Even eighty-four years later, her heart still belonged to that young man from steerage who had shyly changed her life - and the Heart of the Ocean, much like her heart, belonged in the ocean that he had lost his life to.
The pictures that were carefully arranged on the bureau in the cabin Tina shared with her grandson and great-granddaughter told a story.
The earliest photographs were of her and Theseus with Leo, the son they had raised together in the aftermath of a terrible disaster; a shot of her and Leo when he was still only a baby, Tina smiling happily at the camera, another of the three of them in their first home together. There were a number of photos showing the boy as he grew up, and then photographs that showed his half-sister after she had joined their family; Theseus lifting their dark-haired daughter Evelyn into the air as they both laughed, Tina showing both of her children how to draw butterflies they had caught in the garden, all four of them posing for a family portrait. Next came pictures of her with her children at their college graduations, at their wedding days, more family gatherings - and then her grandchildren from her son, one from each marriage he'd had: first Rolf, swarthy and large, followed by Ellie's father Arthur, noticeably paler than his half-brother but the two still thick as thieves. There were photos of Evelyn's three girls among the school photos of her grandsons, and in one large rectangular frame there was a picture of Tina on her seventy-fifth birthday with her husband, her two children, and all of her grandchildren surrounding her. The most recent additions to her collection showed her great-granddaughter, first as a baby and then in various school portraits; the little girl beamed happily in each frame as she read books or coloured in a variety of pictures, her smile reminiscent of that of a man who had lived and died long before her time.
How things had changed over the years - just as she had changed and developed with age, so had society and the world around her. Sometimes she looked at her great-granddaughter and marvelled at how different the world they'd grown up in were; Ellie was just as much a spitfire as Tina had been as a girl, unafraid to speak her mind and be herself - unlike her great-grandmother, she was not forced to behave a certain way, not forced to marry a much older man at a young age for social station, class or money. She had not lied when she'd told Ellie that she was the version she wished she'd been as a teenager, and it had always made her smile to think of how far things had come since she was young.
There were other photos too that showed a life lived well, echoing promises of the past; Tina on the beach, riding a horse with one leg on each side, while in another she was on the Santa Monica pier with the rollercoaster in the background whilst she grinned, completely full of life - her grandchildren had always loved the ones of her with animals, of course, holding snakes and posing with owls perched on her shoulder. There were studio portraits showing her as she aged, taken for the 'About the Author' pages of the books she had gone on to write over the years. Her bestselling one had undoubtedly been her favourite one, the very first book she had written - Fantastic Beasts , she had called it, documenting research about creatures across the globe for readers of all ages to love and enjoy.
In the moonlight through the window, Tina lay warm in her bed as she fell asleep with her grandson and great-granddaughter in the beds nearby, her photos looking back at her - and as the hours passed, even as she grew very still and her chest stopped rising in time with her breaths, there was a peaceful smile on her face.
When Tina opened her eyes, she was standing in the beautiful sunlit corridor of a ship that was populated by deck chairs and windows; there was no rust, no damage, nothing but the warmth of the sun and the faint strains of distant waltz music. When she turned, she realised that she was standing near a door that led towards a grand staircase - and she knew immediately, her heart beating impossibly hard in her chest.
The steward on the door bowed his head politely and opened the door as she came towards him, smiling widely at her in greeting; when she stepped inside, the way leading to the bottom of the staircase was populated by men in tie and tails, women in beautiful ball gowns, all of them exquisitely beautiful in the light cast by the glowing chandelier above. There was no divide between the classes now, first-class standing shoulder to shoulder with steerage and not seeming even remotely perturbed about it for they were all united, all equal here.
As she moved towards the staircase, they all turned to look at her and smiled in greeting one-by-one; she saw Charity, her maid, beaming in her neatly pressed uniform whilst opposite her the band grinned with their instruments under their arms. Tommy Ryan, the Irishman from third-class who had befriended two British brothers, noticed her next and cheerfully acknowledged her from his position next to some of those she had often dined with in the first-class, his hat over his heart and just as full of life as she remembered him. Further on, Modesty Barebone waved sweetly from where her brother Credence was holding her against his hip, her blonde hair shining in the light; many of the ship's officers waited at the very base, among them Murdoch, Lightoller and Lowe, the Welshman who had been one of only two to return looking for survivors and as a consequence saved her life.
One of the final people waiting was her husband; Theseus was twenty-eight again, his loose curls falling over his forehead and his arm around the shoulders of Lally Hicks once more. The two smiled warmly at her, and she felt only joy at the sight of them reunited again - it was how it was meant to be. The other woman bore no ill will for either of them, and she knew that she understood. As she started to make her way up the steps she passed Percival and, to her surprise, Seraphina; they were both standing with Thomas Andrews, all three of them watching her proudly as she ascended the stairs.
A figure was standing on the landing above, back to her as he studied the ornate clock with its carved figures of Honor and Glory, the time set at twenty-minutes-past-two. Just as she reached the last few steps, the figure seemed to sense her presence and turned to face her - and there he was. Newt smiled at the sight of her, a sight that made butterflies flutter in her stomach even now, and reached out his hand for hers. The hand that took his was not wrinkled or gnarled by age anymore, but instead smooth and unblemished; her hair was no longer white but a shining dark colour that reached her shoulders, contrasting splendidly with the light blue dress she was wearing. She beamed joyfully as she met him at the top of the stairs, no longer an elderly woman nearing her one-hundred-and-first birthday but rather a youthful girl of seventeen once more.
"Newt," Tina whispered tearfully.
Newt grinned, his voice low as he leaned in. "Tina."
As their lips finally met in a kiss that was filled with passion, the passengers, officers and crew of the RMS Titanic all smiled and applauded them, the sound echoing in the utter silence of the abyss.
And there it is... The End.
Before people shoot me over THAT, let me just say right now that yes, it's a fucking WEIRD situation and no one is denying that, but hey - it's better than whatever the fuck the Dumbledore plot in Fantastic Beasts was, let's be honest.
There is a LOT that is unsaid in this chapter; I developed a whole timeline for all the events in Tina's life following the sinking, but there was no way to cohesively put it ALL in without detracting from the overall story, which is already well over 100k at this point. Maybe I'll write something and post it on my tumblr or even make a separate story just for short drabbles about these things, but right now it's all unsaid/implied/not really elaborated on: Rolf's father being married twice and having a child from each marriage, for example, is not really important to the story but it's just a little detail that I had in my head to develop the idea of the family. There were so many more things I wanted to write about Ellie, but in the end they just did not fit - originally there was going to be an ending where after Newtina reunited in heaven, it shows Rolf and Ellie grieving + Luna was going to give the mini-recorder to Ellie but, honestly, why ruin what is already the best ending for the story? I also would have loved to have written Newt surviving, and how different things might have been had he survived (similar to how people write fix-it Titanic fics where Jack survives), but I wanted to stay true to James Cameron's vision. Who knows? Maybe that idea could be a possible drabble for the aforementioned hypothetical extra add-on series?
Obviously I need to credit James Cameron for his film - Titanic is my favourite film of all time, hands down - and Leo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet for being incredible actors in the film, so incredible that their chemistry inspired this fic and doubtless many other Titanic AU fics in other fandoms. I'm also giving credit to Eddie and Katherine whose chemistry in Fantastic Beasts was NOT used enough (*sobs*), and who are both not only amazing actors but also incredible people. Part of me still hopes we get more Beasts movies, but if we don't then I need Eddie and Katherine in a movie together as love interests IMMEDIATELY.
A huge thank you to everyone who has read even just one chapter of this fic, left kudos', comments, reviews etc. I am grateful for any readers I get, I truly am, especially since I know this is a strange one and for a fandom that is no longer as active or beloved as it once was. But I am so grateful, all the same, to have been able to combine two loves of mine into one and to be able to share the result with you all. So from the bottom of my autistic geeky Titanic-obsessed little heart, thank you all so much!