(Sorry for the slow updates, been busy with holiday stuff) Newt’s body still ached from the aftereffects of torture the next morning as he blinked awake. He hadn’t planned to sleep, but he had hit a point of exhaustion great enough that his body had just surrendered to the need for rest.
He was still silenced, held by a madman who was torturing him to persuade the young man still asleep on the bed to do whatever he wished. Carefully, he got to his feet, trying the door and finding it locked, his hands jerking away from the handle as it heated to his touch. The windows were solid and locked tight, and he could feel the levels of charms across them. Escape was out of the question then.
Just as he was trying to work out his next plan, the door swung open, and Director Graves was standing there, a stern look on his face. “You.” He spat, and the noise woke Credence, the young man looking around frantically and then visibly relaxing when he saw the Director.
“Good morning Mister Graves.” Credence greeted politely, but the director didn’t respond other than to flick his wand at Newt, and send a fresh burst of agony running through him. Screaming in silent agony, Newt thrashed on the floor, trying to look to Credence for help. As the pain subsided he relaxed for a moment, even though he was sure more was to come. Graves raised his wand again.
“Stop.” Credence spoke softly from the bed, and both Newt and the Director turned towards him. The boy licked his lips, but didn’t back down, raising his hand. “You…said that you were hurting him to remind me I was yours.” He stumbled through the words, looking at Newt and then back at the Director. “I know I am. I’m going to work hard for you, I swear it. You don’t need to hurt him. And it does look like it hurts him a lot when you do that.”
“You don’t know, do you boy…” Graves answered, walking closer to Credence and frowning a little. “You couldn’t imagine the pain I am putting him in. We will have to work on that. But like I said, I will not hurt you. You mustn’t answer back to me.” “I’m sorry sir.” Credence whispered, and Newt closed his eyes as Graves leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Credence’s lips, Credence moaning softly in response. He couldn’t imagine that Tina would be happy with any of this, couldn’t imagine that the director would get away with taking advantage of the young man in the ministry.
“I know you are.” Graves answered, hand skimming down the young man’s side. “Now, we need breakfast. You have been through a lot the last day or two, I need you fully recovered.” “Yes sir.” Credence stood cautiously, making his way to Graves, and Graves smiled at him. “You can eat, and then any leftovers, you can come and bring to your pet, does that sound fair?” “Yes sir.” Credence followed Graves from the room, and the door was locked behind him.
Newt found himself cursing that he had left the case with Tina. But it was safe there. No matter what happened to him, the creatures were safe, and he would try to care for the young man who was just as much a prisoner as he was. He wondered if Credence even knew that he was himself trapped, or if he thought himself the director’s guest.
He spent an hour searching the room, ignoring the aches in his body at the movement, and was rewarded finally by finding a notepad and pen that had been dropped behind the bedside table. He took a few moments to appreciate his finding, contemplating writing a note to Tina. But he couldn’t get it out of the room.
Hearing footsteps on the stairs, he replaced the notepad in its hiding place, and curled back up, head resting on the cushion that had been given to him the previous night. Credence entered the room, followed by Graves, who flicked his wand, and Newt felt his wrists get bound behind him.
Credence sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed, a plate with a bitten slice of toast on his lap. He squirmed. “Now boy, I said you could feed him. If you don’t want to, we can forget it.” The director stepped closer, and Credence picked up the toast, tearing off a strip and holding it out to Newt, his hand shaking.
Newt thought of all the creatures he had cared for, how poorly they would have responded to being fed by someone so uncertain. But he understood that this was Credence doing all he could to be brave. Reluctantly, he shuffled forwards on his knees, and opened his mouth. The bread was cold, but it was the first food he had had since the chase across the city, and if he was ever going to get them both out of here, he knew he needed to keep his strength up.
When the meal was finished, Credence carefully wiped Newt’s lips with a handkerchief, then dropped the cloth and followed Graves from the room, the bindings on his hand disappearing once the door was closed. No words had passed between them but Newt looked at the handkerchief, and then thought of the notebook. A page torn from it could be hidden inside. He picked the handkerchief up, and was startled to find a small strip of bacon tucked into it.
Fill: The Whipping Boy (3/?)
Newt’s body still ached from the aftereffects of torture the next morning as he blinked awake. He hadn’t planned to sleep, but he had hit a point of exhaustion great enough that his body had just surrendered to the need for rest.
He was still silenced, held by a madman who was torturing him to persuade the young man still asleep on the bed to do whatever he wished. Carefully, he got to his feet, trying the door and finding it locked, his hands jerking away from the handle as it heated to his touch. The windows were solid and locked tight, and he could feel the levels of charms across them. Escape was out of the question then.
Just as he was trying to work out his next plan, the door swung open, and Director Graves was standing there, a stern look on his face.
“You.” He spat, and the noise woke Credence, the young man looking around frantically and then visibly relaxing when he saw the Director.
“Good morning Mister Graves.” Credence greeted politely, but the director didn’t respond other than to flick his wand at Newt, and send a fresh burst of agony running through him. Screaming in silent agony, Newt thrashed on the floor, trying to look to Credence for help. As the pain subsided he relaxed for a moment, even though he was sure more was to come. Graves raised his wand again.
“Stop.” Credence spoke softly from the bed, and both Newt and the Director turned towards him. The boy licked his lips, but didn’t back down, raising his hand.
“You…said that you were hurting him to remind me I was yours.” He stumbled through the words, looking at Newt and then back at the Director. “I know I am. I’m going to work hard for you, I swear it. You don’t need to hurt him. And it does look like it hurts him a lot when you do that.”
“You don’t know, do you boy…” Graves answered, walking closer to Credence and frowning a little. “You couldn’t imagine the pain I am putting him in. We will have to work on that. But like I said, I will not hurt you. You mustn’t answer back to me.”
“I’m sorry sir.” Credence whispered, and Newt closed his eyes as Graves leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Credence’s lips, Credence moaning softly in response. He couldn’t imagine that Tina would be happy with any of this, couldn’t imagine that the director would get away with taking advantage of the young man in the ministry.
“I know you are.” Graves answered, hand skimming down the young man’s side. “Now, we need breakfast. You have been through a lot the last day or two, I need you fully recovered.”
“Yes sir.” Credence stood cautiously, making his way to Graves, and Graves smiled at him.
“You can eat, and then any leftovers, you can come and bring to your pet, does that sound fair?”
“Yes sir.” Credence followed Graves from the room, and the door was locked behind him.
Newt found himself cursing that he had left the case with Tina. But it was safe there. No matter what happened to him, the creatures were safe, and he would try to care for the young man who was just as much a prisoner as he was. He wondered if Credence even knew that he was himself trapped, or if he thought himself the director’s guest.
He spent an hour searching the room, ignoring the aches in his body at the movement, and was rewarded finally by finding a notepad and pen that had been dropped behind the bedside table. He took a few moments to appreciate his finding, contemplating writing a note to Tina. But he couldn’t get it out of the room.
Hearing footsteps on the stairs, he replaced the notepad in its hiding place, and curled back up, head resting on the cushion that had been given to him the previous night. Credence entered the room, followed by Graves, who flicked his wand, and Newt felt his wrists get bound behind him.
Credence sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed, a plate with a bitten slice of toast on his lap. He squirmed.
“Now boy, I said you could feed him. If you don’t want to, we can forget it.” The director stepped closer, and Credence picked up the toast, tearing off a strip and holding it out to Newt, his hand shaking.
Newt thought of all the creatures he had cared for, how poorly they would have responded to being fed by someone so uncertain. But he understood that this was Credence doing all he could to be brave. Reluctantly, he shuffled forwards on his knees, and opened his mouth. The bread was cold, but it was the first food he had had since the chase across the city, and if he was ever going to get them both out of here, he knew he needed to keep his strength up.
When the meal was finished, Credence carefully wiped Newt’s lips with a handkerchief, then dropped the cloth and followed Graves from the room, the bindings on his hand disappearing once the door was closed. No words had passed between them but Newt looked at the handkerchief, and then thought of the notebook. A page torn from it could be hidden inside. He picked the handkerchief up, and was startled to find a small strip of bacon tucked into it.