While the idea of a "negator" is not exactly original, I don't know if it exists within the realm of HP, so it could be original to introduce the concept. *shrugs* Either way, this is fluff and fun, not highbrow intellectuality. Cheers!

Theseus awoke with a pounding head, surrounded by shattered glass. Pushing off the floor, mindful of the glass shards, Theseus shook his head, causing more glass pieces to fall onto the carpet. It took a moment of sitting still for the world to stop spinning and his head to find a rhythm in its pounding enough for Theseus to open his eyes and look around. He was alone. No surprise there. Snorting, he grimaced at the sound and the movement. Picking up one of the larger pieces of glass, Theseus studied it until he realized what the original object had been: one of the gaudy porcelain figurines the innkeeper thought attractive enough to decorate the bureau just inside the door of their room.

Theseus reached inside his suit coat and relaxed when his fingers pulled out his wand. For a moment, he'd feared Helen had taken it when she ran. He tested the wand, wondering if Helen had managed to get far enough away while unconscious for him to use magic. The wand flared to life, and the glass shards came back together to form the figurine, but it wasn't perfect and went much slower than expected. Perhaps she wasn't too far away, and he had a chance of finding her. If he could get back to his feet.

Theseus groaned, putting his hand to his head and gingerly felt around until he hissed in pain, finding a cut on the back left of his skull. She certainly hadn't tried to spare him when coming down with the damned thing. He studied his blood-coated fingers. Thankfully, the cut was short and not too deep. But with the cut, it was apparent Helen hadn't believed a word he'd been telling her ever since he'd kidnapped her two days before. She must've waited just inside with the figurine in hand while he'd been staving off the curiosity of the innkeeper and mercilessly brought it down upon his skull as soon as he was inside. Theseus smirked despite the pain. In all honesty, he couldn't blame her for the violence.

Not once in the past few days had he been able to offer concrete evidence of his identity as a wizard. As a negater, with her in his presence, he could perform no magic. And with her as a flight risk, he hadn't wanted to put much distance between them to showcase his magic through experiments. So as they'd traveled from Wales towards the Highlands and the safe house, Helen had sat seemingly contrite as he repeatedly explained all the many reasons he was telling the truth and was not, as he now suspected she assumed, entirely off his rocker. For her part, Helen had asked clarifying questions, most likely to assuage his pride and put him at ease enough to let down his guard as she led him to suppose she believed his story. His injury and her disappearance were evidence that she was far craftier and more brutal than he'd assumed her capable of, and that grievous error left him with a cut and no Helen.

Theseus tested the wand, wanting to heal the cut, but this time nothing happened. Frowning, Theseus grabbed hold of the bureau to pull himself to his feet. If before it had worked at a diminished level, and now it didn't work at all, could that mean-

"You had better feckin explain yourself." Helen stormed through the door unannounced, slamming it shut behind her.

His body slumping with relief, Theseus gripped the wood of the bureau harder to keep from falling back to the floor. She had come back. That was why the wand didn't work. He was curious how far away she'd been when he'd been first woken and had used the wand. They would eventually need to know the area of effect, and Theseus hoped she would be more willing to work with him to find that out in the future. For the time being, however, it was obvious he had to calm her down and regain control of the situation.

"I had better explain myself?" Theseus scoffed, moving along the bureau until he grabbed the chair nearby between the bureau and bed and dropped himself into it. "You're not the one with a bloody lump on your skull."

At the mentioning of his head, Helen looked to the ground, and her frown deepened when she undoubtedly noticed the shards were no longer scattered across the carpet. Theseus pointed to the figurine he left in one piece on the floor and held up his wand to explain its miraculous mending.

"You expect me to believe you magic'ed this thing back together?" Helen bent to retrieve the figurine, turning it over in her hands as she looked for signs of glue. With a growl, she thrust it towards him and stalked closer, "How the hell did you do this, Theseus?"

He waved the wand, "Apparently, when I first woke up, you were far enough away that I could use my wand to put it together. It didn't go as quickly as normal and took more effort, but it worked." He slid his wand back into his suit coat and made a show of reaching for his head. "My head, however, is still injured. You returned before I could fix the leftover of your assault."

Helen slammed the figurine onto the bureau with enough force Theseus was surprised the porcelain didn't crumple again. Without tenderness, she grabbed either side of his face and bent his head forward, her cool fingers immediately finding the cut and holding aside his hair for her study. He gritted his teeth to keep from yelping, not wanting to fuel her annoyance with his sounds of pain. She was unlikely to feel sympathy and more likely to become more agitated if he showed any signs of weakness.

"You don't need stitches but should press a cool cloth over it to get the swelling to go down."

"I hear no remorse in your voice." Theseus dryly commented as he watched her stomp over to the bedside table, pour water into the washbasin, and dip a rag in, "What happened to the Hippocratic oath of never harming a patient?"

He heard her mutter something menacing in Welsh, and this time she offered no translation as she came back to his side. Without warning, she smacked the cloth against his head, grabbing his hand and slamming it over the fabric, before stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest. "You weren't a patient when I hit you. You were a kidnapper. A bloody mad kidnapper I once counted as my friend."

"I told you before, Helen, I never wanted it to happen like this, but I had no choice." Theseus grimaced as a sudden wave of nausea hit him.

"What's wrong?" For the first time since her return, Helen sounded closer to normal and far less murderous.

Theseus opened his eyes again, "Just suddenly felt peaky, is all."

"Foc," Helen swore, dropping her arms to her sides and relaxing her stance marginally, "didn't realize I hit you that hard, Theseus." She glared at the figurine as if the unassuming object had made her do it. "I just didn't know how else to getaway. You've been such a damned nuisance ever since we left, and I saw the opportunity, so I took it."

Sighing, Theseus gestured for Helen to sit on the bed opposite him, "Truce?"

"For now." Helen plopped down, her face still pulled into a scowl as she studied him. He let her study, figuring she should be the one to press for more information instead of the other way round. "I called Cecil from a payphone in town."

"Oh?" Theseus pulled the cloth away just long enough to study the blood mark before reapplying it. "And what did he say?"

"He asked how I was enjoying my holiday and chastised me for calling after I had been the one to insist I would go off-grid for the duration of said holiday." Helen leaned back on her palms, her legs swinging as they draped off the bed. "Now, how in the hell did he get the notion I was on holiday instead of rightfully reporting my kidnapping?"

"When Next and I split up at the pub, he distracted them all long enough until we got away before he obliviated them. Then most likely using information from your friends about your routines and acquaintances, he must've visited each one of them to plant a false memory as to your current whereabouts." Before Helen could grow violent again, Theseus was quick to add. "None of them were hurt, Helen. I guarantee that. And when this is all over, either Newt or I would be happy to remove the false memory ."

Helen said nothing as her eyes returned to the figurine. He had wished for experiments to showcase his magical abilities, so she would stop thinking of him as daft, and the opportunity for such an experiment had roused itself, albeit through his injury and her near escape. Helen muttered a slew of curses, again in a language he did not speak, as she dropped onto her back and stared at the ceiling.

"Theseus," he hummed a response and waited for her to continue, "you really aren't shitting me, are you?"

"No."

"Foc."

"Indeed," Theseus stood and moved to stand by the single window of their small room. He'd reserved it under the pretenses of being a married couple, and while he'd intended on taking the floor to sleep anyway, Helen had preemptively helped him to it with the head-smashing bit. "This is all real, Helen." With his free hand, he pulled aside the curtains to peer out into the darkening evening. There would be a storm, and it seemed the type to linger. That would make driving tomorrow morning a pain. Dropping the curtain back into place, Theseus turned to study Helen. Her eyes were already on him, her head cocked at an odd angle as she tracked his movements. "Leta died because of this man, Helen, and that is far from 'shitting you.'"

At the mentioning of his deceased fiancé, Helen seemed to sober further from her earlier ire. She sat up and turned to face him more fully, tucking her legs up underneath her. She patted the bed in front of her and waited. When he hesitated in his approach, she rolled her eyes.

"I promise, I won't try to attack you again, Theseus. While I still haven't decided if I believe everything you've told me, there's enough evidence to unsettle my high horse, and I'll get off it now." She patted the bed again. "So, I hope you can forgive my distrust Theseus because you have to admit this is all quite unprecedented."

Theseus sighed and moved to sit with her. It was nice to return to a semblance of normalcy between them. Even since he'd seen her in the pub and Newt hit her in the head with his bloody suitcase, everything had gone to shite and worse. Gone had been the warmth between them, the mirth and ease, and it had left Theseus with the shell of his friend traveling in the car filled with mistrust and fury at her kidnapping.

"Even with a cut on my head, I understand why you did as you did and have been acting as you have." Theseus leaned on his elbows, letting his legs drape off the side as Helen had earlier done. "Perhaps there was another way I could've handled this, but faced with the situation at hand with Grindelwald and with your own unwillingness to cooperate, I couldn't hesitate and had to act quickly."

Helen snorted, "No, you probably did the right thing." At Theseus' look of incredulity, Helen chuckled, "I know myself well enough to know kidnapping me as you did was the only way you were going to get me to come with you unless you'd had more time at your disposal, and the ability to give me concrete evidence of your story."

"Gracious of you to let me off the hook, post-concussion, of course," Theseus smirked.

"Of course," Helen emphatically nodded, and for a moment, their camaraderie returned, and the time shared felt almost normal. But Helen shattered the moment with her next question, asked directly but with an element of compassion, "How did Leta die?" When Theseus sat up and looked away, he felt her reposition herself on the bed and heard rushed concern in her voice when she added, "I don't mean to pry Theseus, and if you don't feel ready to talk about it, don't. I just thought that-"

"Newt and I were pinned." Theseus dropped his head into his hands, but the pain of his cut reminded him of its presence. He stood and paced back to the window. He didn't look back at Helen as he recounted the scene for her. No doubt she'd be unable to picture everything as she did not know what auror battles looked like, but he believed she would understand the gist of things enough to stay with him in the retelling.

"Grindelwald's power was too great for either of us to take alone, and even together, we couldn't have held out for much longer." He took a steadying breath as the images played out in his mind's eye. "And in that place of certain death, I heard her voice. Clear. Confident as she called out his name, drawing his attention away from us." His voice broke, and he stopped, closing his eyes and swaying against the crushing reality of her death.

A warm hand on his elbow had him opening his eyes, and Theseus saw Helen standing in front of him, holding a glass of water. He accepted the glass and sipped at its contents, his eyes straying back out the window. Helen remained nearby, leaning against the windowsill opposite as she waited.

Theseus spoke through the fractured threads of his voice, "I tried to get to her, to stop her, protect her, I don't know which anymore. But Grindelwald's spell kept between us, no matter what I did. I could only watch, helpless, as she put her hand in his to follow him into the fire."

"Why," Helen winced when he looked to her, immediately apologetic for interrupting, "I'm sorry. Please continue."

"Grindelwald created a sort of fire spell to weed out true believers from false ones, inviting the rest of us to join him in his cause by walking through it. Some of our own joined him, while the spell immediately destroyed others who tried to flee. Turned to dust." Theseus shuddered at the memory, imagining for a moment the feel of that dust swirling past his face and coating his skin. "He knew of Leta's family, one of notoriety, and he assumed she would follow him as many in her family undoubtedly had before. But when she turned to me," he sighed, "to us, I saw a determined look of resignation on her face as she told me she loved me. I knew then that it was a ruse." Helen's eyes widened a fraction, but she remained silent. "She confirmed this when she pulled out her wand and threw a spell at Grindelwald. Of course, it didn't work, but she destabilized the fire spell and distracted Grindelwald. She called for us to leave, but I couldn't leave her. Not like that. I tried to get to her again, throwing every spell I could think of, but nothing worked." Theseus leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window even as he felt hot tears brim his eyes. "At that moment, Grindelwald countered her spell, and she," he stumbled over the words, "disintegrated before my very eyes. Her ashes were pulled into the building whirlwind of fiery power Grindelwald unleashed." He blinked away the tears and sighed, straightening to his full height. "If it hadn't been for Newt, I'd have died with her."

Some moments passed before Helen reached out and touched his shoulder, her eyes filled with sympathy when he met her gaze, "I am so sorry, Theseus. I didn't know her long, but Leta was a lovely woman."

"Yes," Theseus nodded, "the very loveliest of women." He patted her hand then stepped away, "You see why I can't let Grindelwald win, Helen. I can't let Leta have sacrificed herself for nothing."

Helen nodded, "I understand, Theseus. Now." She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "If my going to some safe house in Scotland can help you take out this bastard, I'll do it." She squared her stance then and leveled her gaze, "But if there's a way I can get at this fiend myself, please let me." Theseus frowned and would've countered the sentiment immediately, but she quickly continued, "If I am what you say I am, then he won't be able to use magic any more than you if I'm nearby. I don't know how accomplished he is with fisticuffs or a gun, but I know from our shared history that you at least are passing fair in both regards."

Theseus frowned. A concept he hadn't yet considered, but what she said was true. With her as a 'weapon' against Grindelwald, they had a unique opportunity. The task would then be to get her close enough to negate his magic and come prepared to fight a magic-less fight. Something of that nature would be risky, for her, for them all, and it would be damned difficult to get her anywhere near him once Grindelwald knew who and what she was. And yet, there could be some merit to the idea. Perhaps as a last resort.

"I'll take the idea back to Dumbledore, and we'll give it some more thought." He shook his head when she looked as ready to protest as he had earlier. "I think it is a good idea, but it may not be the BEST idea. That's why I'm going to discuss it further with my team after I get you to the safe house."

"Very well," Helen sighed, "just don't keep me sheltered and hidden if I can be of greater use than merely hidden treasure."

"I promise." He made a show of crossing his heart, and she rolled her eyes. He glanced at his watch then and frowned, "We missed dinner."

"I hear some blame in your tone of voice, Mr. Scamander."

"You heard correctly, Ms. O'Reilly, for if you hadn't caved in my head, we wouldn't be standing here hungry now, would we?"

Helen grinned, "I'm not hungry."

"And why is that?" Theseus frowned.

"I bought myself some bread and an apple before coming back here to confront you." She reached into her coat pocket and withdrew his wallet. "Thanks."

Theseus laughed as he accepted his formerly unknown stolen wallet, "I didn't realize before tonight just how ruthlessly resourceful you were."

Helen shrugged before she reached into her other pocket to pull out a small bread bun and another apple. She handed both to Theseus, then took off her coat and hung it on the coat hook beside the door. At his look, she snickered.

"Don't worry, I ate mine. Just figured if I hadn't killed you, I could use the promise of food as an incentive to get you to talk sense. So before I came back, I bought another of each." Picking up a towel from the foot of the bed, she smiled, "I'll leave you to your snack."

"Where are you going?" Theseus frowned. Though she'd since promised to genuinely lend aid and comply, he was still uncertain about her going anywhere out of his sight.

Helen wrinkled her nose, "Theseus, we've only stopped for petrol and a quick nap on the side of the road since we left the pub in Wales. I can smell myself. Though I can handle changing back into these clothes, I at least want to wash away the smell of kidnapping from my skin before getting into bed."

"Very well," Sighing, Theseus waved for her to continue in her bath-seeking journey.

He waited until she left before he hurried back down the stairs to find the innkeeper. He made quick work of his order and was back in the room arranging his bedding on the floor by the time Helen returned, still toweling her hair when she entered.

"The water is warm," she commented, nudging the door closed with her foot, "and I didn't see anyone else queuing up when I left if you're of a mind to take a bath as well."

Theseus smirked, "Are you implying that I reek?"

"Not entirely," Helen winked as she sat on the chair near the bureau, "but a bath wouldn't hurt."

Theseus laughed and took hold of the other towel the innkeeper had given them. With one last warning not to go anywhere without him, Theseus went to do as she bid. The water was indeed warm, and he felt immensely better once he finished. But he stood in the steamy room, staring at his reflection for a few silent moments, before returning.

He hadn't spoken of Leta's death with anyone since it happened. There was no need to with Newt, not since he'd been there, and no one else had had the interest or time to speak to him of it. It had hurt to relive the events, still so clear in his mind, and yet there had been something releasing about telling Helen. It felt easier to breathe now. Though the pain of her loss remained, and Theseus knew he would always feel the emptiness of Leta's death in his heart, retelling it to Helen had been cathartic.

He picked up the used towel and draped it over his shoulder as he opened the bathroom door and sauntered down the hallway. Perhaps that had been why Helen asked him about it; maybe she'd sensed the bottled-up pain and knew he'd only be able to breathe freely again once he opened the bottle. Theseus rolled his shoulders before he opened the door and glanced behind it before stepping inside. Couldn't be too cautious now.

However, Helen still surprised him when she came at him from the other side. But instead of hitting him in the head, she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. Theseus stood in the doorway only partially inside the room, staring at Helen in confusion until she held up the semi-opened parcel in her hands.

"You really didn't have to do this, Theseus."

Smiling, Theseus moved fully into the room and shut the door. "I know. But we both needed a change of clothing. It only took a few extra coins to convince the innkeeper to send her nephew to her cousin's shop down the road to pick out a few ready-made items. So there's no promise on taste or fit, but at least it's something other than what we're currently wearing."

"Well, thank you." She leaned up and kissed his cheek again before turning and placing the parcel on the bureau.

Theseus felt his cheeks warm, and it took him a moment to realize he was blushing. Shaking his head, he quickly hung up his towel, kicked off his shoes, and made for his inevitably hard bed on the floor.

"You know Theseus, this bed is large enough for a married couple." He stopped mid-stride to look over at Helen, already sitting in bed with covers situated up to her hips. "I trust you to keep to your side of the bed if you join me."

"But-" Theseus stopped. There really was no reason to insist on the floor. They were both adults, they were only here together for a mission, and they had a long enough history of trusting one another. Besides that, Theseus had little interest in initiating something with anyone, not so soon after Leta's death. And he knew Helen had no interest in trying anything with him, not after the kidnapping scare. Satisfied with the logic of her suggestion, Theseus picked up the extra blankets off the floor and spread them out on the bed, replacing the pillow next to hers. "I won't argue with your logic."

Helen snorted as she shifted down into the bed, squirming around to warm up her side, "This time. I have every reason to believe that come tomorrow, you'll be back to arguing again, no problem."

"True enough," Theseus joined her, careful to keep as much distance as the bed allowed, "goodnight Helen." He flipped off the light next to the bed and settled against his pillow.

"Goodnight, Theseus." He heard her sigh in the dark, fatigue clear in her voice.

Some minutes later, he fell asleep to the sound of her heavy breathing, which soon turned to light snores, amazed and jealous of how quickly she'd been able to fall asleep.