Percival stood uncertainly for a couple of minutes, then sat down himself. The ground was surprisingly soft, and it smelled rich and loamy, bringing back vague memories of playing some ridiculous game at Ilvermorney that had involved rolling down a hill and then trying to levitate something while still dizzy and reeling. He had been in first year, a child playing with other children, and they had all gotten covered in grass and dirt and rolled around laughing as the leaves they tried to charm went spinning every which way.
He was startled out of the memory by something moving amongst the trees, something large, and he tensed sharply, remembering that he hadn’t actually bothered to ask what ‘Lucy’ was. His wand was still up his sleeve. He could grab Newt and Apparate them away if it was dangerous. Newt had promised it would be fine. Newt was smiling up at a fucking unicorn as it limped warily out of the trees.
“Hello, love,” Newt crooned, low and soothing. “How’s the leg today?”
The unicorn snorted, turning in Percival’s direction and lowering its head threateningly, and Newt murmured, “Hey, easy, that’s Percival, he’s my friend. He’s just going to stay there while I look at that brace for you, alright?”
Percival swallowed hard and concentrated on being unobtrusive, as requested.
A unicorn. It was... horse-shaped, and white, and it had a horn on its forehead, a long, spiraling spear of pearlescent ivory. That was the way unicorns were usually described, and it was accurate, but missed completely the wild, impossible beauty of its clean lines and the sense of power that radiated out from it.
It turned away from him after a moment, dropping its head to nose at Newt’s hair affectionately, and he shifted forward into a crouch as he ran his fingers along its right front leg, which was wrapped in a sort of cage of thin pieces of metal, secured with bandages. Newt cupped his hands gently around the unicorn’s golden hoof and coaxed it to raise and lower the foot, watching the motion of the limb intently. Then he let it go, and said happily, “That’s looking much better, and the swelling is almost gone. Another day or two and I think you can have that off, hmm?”
The unicorn snuffled his hair again, and then deliberately bumped him with its shoulder, upsetting his balance and sending him sprawling across the mossy ground. He chuckled delightedly, rolling back to his feet, and said, “What cheek! If you’re feeling that well, my dear, could I ask a favor?”
It snorted at him, stamping its good hoof warningly, and Newt spread his hands wide, relaxed and unthreatening. “Nothing bad, I promise. You’re safe here. And so is my friend Percival, but something bad happened to him, something terrible, and he’s afraid that he’s been... tainted. Would you be able to check?”
“Newt, don’t be ridiculous,” Percival muttered. “I am hardly pure, it isn’t going to-“
Newt chuckled. “That doesn’t count for as much as you’d think. It’s alright, nobody’s going to hurt you here.” Percival wasn’t sure which of them that last part was addressed to, but he had the nagging suspicion that it wasn’t the unicorn.
Newt kept pace with the unicorn’s uneven gait as they made their way over to where Percival was sitting, feeling sick and afraid but trying not to show it.
The unicorn raised its head and stared down its nose at Percival, and he felt his jaw lock up with tension but Newt said soothingly, “Easy, she’s just looking. Unicorns have their eyes placed differently to humans, she angling her head so that you’re where her vision is clearest. Horses do the same thing.”
Percival swallowed hard, but stayed where he was. Up close, the unicorn smelled like a spring morning, just before dawn when the dew was still on the grass and the air was crisp and clear It blinked wide, silver-lashed dark eyes at him, and then it lowered its head and breathed against his face, slowly, a cloud of warm, clover-scented air enveloping him, and rubbed its face against his. It had soft, silken fur, and his skin tingled faintly when it pulled away. His eyes were wet.
He was dimly aware of Newt murmuring to the unicorn, and he blinked furiously to clear his eyes so that he could watch it walk away, but they kept filling up again and leaking down his face and he raised a hand to rub them but it was shaking so badly, and his breathing hitched audibly and then there were arms curled around him, tugging him against a bony shoulder and Newt was crooning slowly against his hair, wordless and soft, the way he’d done to soothe the Occamies and the unicorn, and Percival fisted a hand in his shirt and just held on.
It felt like a very long time later when he finally managed to get his breathing back under control, but Newt was still wrapped around him making low, comforting sounds. Percival took a breath, and when it didn’t devolve into shuddering gasps, he said carefully, “Thank you, I think I’m alright.”
Newt released him at once, but stayed close, settling cross-legged on the grass with their shoulders brushing. “To be honest, I’m not sure you are.”
Percival hiccupped out a laugh. “Oh, what gave it away?”
Newt sighed. “Theseus wants to offer you a job.”
“What?” Percival said blankly. “He can’t. I’m compromised. I- Grindelwald had me for months. It’s not safe.”
“Unicorns can detect Dark magic,” Newt said carefully. “If you were cursed, or controlled, she would have been able to tell. I can’t guarantee he didn’t do anything, but Theseus said the chance of Grindelwald anticipating you moving to England and setting some sort of long-term command that would make you mess up their operations is fairly low, and he’d be willing to risk it. To quote him directly, ‘If MACUSA are stupid enough to throw out their best Auror like that, then they don’t deserve to keep him.’ And then he told me I should go and visit Tina, and see you while I was here.”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think he was getting a bit sick of having me underfoot, to be honest. The editing for my manuscript is taking a ridiculously long time, and I can’t really go anywhere interesting while it’s happening or Merlin knows what they’d change. Honestly, if I’d known the thing was going to be such a hassle, I’d have thought twice about agreeing to it.”
“Somehow, I think you would have done it anyway,” Percival said, eyeing him sidelong.
Newt’s mouth curled up into a rueful smile. “Well, yes, obviously. But I might have thought about it.”
Percival sighed. He felt hollowed out, scraped raw. “Is that it, then? Your unicorn gave me a bill of clean health, so you think I should take Theseus up on his offer?”
Newt paused, and then said carefully. “I think it’s a good opportunity, and you’re more than qualified. I also think that there’s no deadline on it, so if you wanted to take some time for yourself, you could. Your job isn’t the only thing Grindelwald took from you.”
“I’m fine,” Percival snapped, “he barely touched me, I wasn’t-“
“Percival,” Newt said, settling an arm around his shoulders again gently. “There’s no more or less. Lucy’s leg was broken when she was captured by smugglers who planned to carve her up for parts. The Graphorns are the last of their entire species. Do the Graphorns deserve less care because they weren’t injured? Does Lucy deserve less because she isn’t entirely alone? There is always somebody else who has had something worse happen to them, but that doesn’t mean that what was done to you wasn’t indescribably awful. It doesn’t mean that you are weak, or that you don’t deserve help or time to recover.”
Percival opened his mouth to say something, anything, but all that came out was a choked noise, and he clenched his jaw shut, held his eyes wide so that they wouldn’t start to leak. Newt just waited quietly. After a few tense moments, Percival sighed out a shaky breath and let himself lean into Newt’s arm. He was very warm, and surprisingly sturdy for such a lanky man. “I’m not one of your creatures,” he managed hoarsely. “You can’t just... keep me in here until I’m better and then find me a new habitat.”
“Of course not,” Newt replied easily, and Percival felt something horribly like disappointment twist up his stomach. He started to shift away, but Newt went on, “I wouldn’t keep you here. But if you wanted to stay, you’d be more than welcome.”
Percival shut his eyes. This was ridiculous. Newt was ridiculous. He was a fully grown wizard, he shouldn’t need- He swallowed hard. (Pathetic, Grindelwald sneered.)
‘If you’re not sure you can handle a situation, you damn well take backup,’ he’d told more than one of his subordinates, ‘and if your ego can’t handle asking for help, you don’t belong in the field.’
He still had his wand. He could always finish it later, if there was any sign that he was a danger to others. He’d read the files: Newt had fought Grindelwald, was clearly both more dangerous and more observant than he seemed, and there was no way that he would let Percival harm any of his ‘guests’. He already owed Newt his life, he’d just sobbed all over the man’s shoulder, and he still wanted to help. Maybe... it wouldn’t hurt to let him try.
“How long?” he asked quietly.
Newt shrugged, withdrawing his arm so that he could look Percival in the face earnestly. “As long as you need. I have plenty of room.”
He didn’t seem bothered when Percival hugged him this time, just rested his pointy chin over Percival’s shoulder and hugged back.
Re: Fill, part 5/5: Graves/Newt - Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Hurt/Comfort
He was startled out of the memory by something moving amongst the trees, something large, and he tensed sharply, remembering that he hadn’t actually bothered to ask what ‘Lucy’ was. His wand was still up his sleeve. He could grab Newt and Apparate them away if it was dangerous. Newt had promised it would be fine. Newt was smiling up at a fucking unicorn as it limped warily out of the trees.
“Hello, love,” Newt crooned, low and soothing. “How’s the leg today?”
The unicorn snorted, turning in Percival’s direction and lowering its head threateningly, and Newt murmured, “Hey, easy, that’s Percival, he’s my friend. He’s just going to stay there while I look at that brace for you, alright?”
Percival swallowed hard and concentrated on being unobtrusive, as requested.
A unicorn. It was... horse-shaped, and white, and it had a horn on its forehead, a long, spiraling spear of pearlescent ivory. That was the way unicorns were usually described, and it was accurate, but missed completely the wild, impossible beauty of its clean lines and the sense of power that radiated out from it.
It turned away from him after a moment, dropping its head to nose at Newt’s hair affectionately, and he shifted forward into a crouch as he ran his fingers along its right front leg, which was wrapped in a sort of cage of thin pieces of metal, secured with bandages. Newt cupped his hands gently around the unicorn’s golden hoof and coaxed it to raise and lower the foot, watching the motion of the limb intently. Then he let it go, and said happily, “That’s looking much better, and the swelling is almost gone. Another day or two and I think you can have that off, hmm?”
The unicorn snuffled his hair again, and then deliberately bumped him with its shoulder, upsetting his balance and sending him sprawling across the mossy ground. He chuckled delightedly, rolling back to his feet, and said, “What cheek! If you’re feeling that well, my dear, could I ask a favor?”
It snorted at him, stamping its good hoof warningly, and Newt spread his hands wide, relaxed and unthreatening. “Nothing bad, I promise. You’re safe here. And so is my friend Percival, but something bad happened to him, something terrible, and he’s afraid that he’s been... tainted. Would you be able to check?”
“Newt, don’t be ridiculous,” Percival muttered. “I am hardly pure, it isn’t going to-“
Newt chuckled. “That doesn’t count for as much as you’d think. It’s alright, nobody’s going to hurt you here.” Percival wasn’t sure which of them that last part was addressed to, but he had the nagging suspicion that it wasn’t the unicorn.
Newt kept pace with the unicorn’s uneven gait as they made their way over to where Percival was sitting, feeling sick and afraid but trying not to show it.
The unicorn raised its head and stared down its nose at Percival, and he felt his jaw lock up with tension but Newt said soothingly, “Easy, she’s just looking. Unicorns have their eyes placed differently to humans, she angling her head so that you’re where her vision is clearest. Horses do the same thing.”
Percival swallowed hard, but stayed where he was. Up close, the unicorn smelled like a spring morning, just before dawn when the dew was still on the grass and the air was crisp and clear It blinked wide, silver-lashed dark eyes at him, and then it lowered its head and breathed against his face, slowly, a cloud of warm, clover-scented air enveloping him, and rubbed its face against his. It had soft, silken fur, and his skin tingled faintly when it pulled away. His eyes were wet.
He was dimly aware of Newt murmuring to the unicorn, and he blinked furiously to clear his eyes so that he could watch it walk away, but they kept filling up again and leaking down his face and he raised a hand to rub them but it was shaking so badly, and his breathing hitched audibly and then there were arms curled around him, tugging him against a bony shoulder and Newt was crooning slowly against his hair, wordless and soft, the way he’d done to soothe the Occamies and the unicorn, and Percival fisted a hand in his shirt and just held on.
It felt like a very long time later when he finally managed to get his breathing back under control, but Newt was still wrapped around him making low, comforting sounds. Percival took a breath, and when it didn’t devolve into shuddering gasps, he said carefully, “Thank you, I think I’m alright.”
Newt released him at once, but stayed close, settling cross-legged on the grass with their shoulders brushing. “To be honest, I’m not sure you are.”
Percival hiccupped out a laugh. “Oh, what gave it away?”
Newt sighed. “Theseus wants to offer you a job.”
“What?” Percival said blankly. “He can’t. I’m compromised. I- Grindelwald had me for months. It’s not safe.”
“Unicorns can detect Dark magic,” Newt said carefully. “If you were cursed, or controlled, she would have been able to tell. I can’t guarantee he didn’t do anything, but Theseus said the chance of Grindelwald anticipating you moving to England and setting some sort of long-term command that would make you mess up their operations is fairly low, and he’d be willing to risk it. To quote him directly, ‘If MACUSA are stupid enough to throw out their best Auror like that, then they don’t deserve to keep him.’ And then he told me I should go and visit Tina, and see you while I was here.”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think he was getting a bit sick of having me underfoot, to be honest. The editing for my manuscript is taking a ridiculously long time, and I can’t really go anywhere interesting while it’s happening or Merlin knows what they’d change. Honestly, if I’d known the thing was going to be such a hassle, I’d have thought twice about agreeing to it.”
“Somehow, I think you would have done it anyway,” Percival said, eyeing him sidelong.
Newt’s mouth curled up into a rueful smile. “Well, yes, obviously. But I might have thought about it.”
Percival sighed. He felt hollowed out, scraped raw. “Is that it, then? Your unicorn gave me a bill of clean health, so you think I should take Theseus up on his offer?”
Newt paused, and then said carefully. “I think it’s a good opportunity, and you’re more than qualified. I also think that there’s no deadline on it, so if you wanted to take some time for yourself, you could. Your job isn’t the only thing Grindelwald took from you.”
“I’m fine,” Percival snapped, “he barely touched me, I wasn’t-“
“Percival,” Newt said, settling an arm around his shoulders again gently. “There’s no more or less. Lucy’s leg was broken when she was captured by smugglers who planned to carve her up for parts. The Graphorns are the last of their entire species. Do the Graphorns deserve less care because they weren’t injured? Does Lucy deserve less because she isn’t entirely alone? There is always somebody else who has had something worse happen to them, but that doesn’t mean that what was done to you wasn’t indescribably awful. It doesn’t mean that you are weak, or that you don’t deserve help or time to recover.”
Percival opened his mouth to say something, anything, but all that came out was a choked noise, and he clenched his jaw shut, held his eyes wide so that they wouldn’t start to leak. Newt just waited quietly. After a few tense moments, Percival sighed out a shaky breath and let himself lean into Newt’s arm. He was very warm, and surprisingly sturdy for such a lanky man. “I’m not one of your creatures,” he managed hoarsely. “You can’t just... keep me in here until I’m better and then find me a new habitat.”
“Of course not,” Newt replied easily, and Percival felt something horribly like disappointment twist up his stomach. He started to shift away, but Newt went on, “I wouldn’t keep you here. But if you wanted to stay, you’d be more than welcome.”
Percival shut his eyes. This was ridiculous. Newt was ridiculous. He was a fully grown wizard, he shouldn’t need- He swallowed hard. (Pathetic, Grindelwald sneered.)
‘If you’re not sure you can handle a situation, you damn well take backup,’ he’d told more than one of his subordinates, ‘and if your ego can’t handle asking for help, you don’t belong in the field.’
He still had his wand. He could always finish it later, if there was any sign that he was a danger to others. He’d read the files: Newt had fought Grindelwald, was clearly both more dangerous and more observant than he seemed, and there was no way that he would let Percival harm any of his ‘guests’. He already owed Newt his life, he’d just sobbed all over the man’s shoulder, and he still wanted to help. Maybe... it wouldn’t hurt to let him try.
“How long?” he asked quietly.
Newt shrugged, withdrawing his arm so that he could look Percival in the face earnestly. “As long as you need. I have plenty of room.”
He didn’t seem bothered when Percival hugged him this time, just rested his pointy chin over Percival’s shoulder and hugged back.