Chapter Text
Newt was starting to feel something in his heart that hadn’t been there in a while. He had stayed with Credence while the boy slept, though he wasn’t very sleepy anymore himself, and just sitting there he found himself feeling awfully content. He was taking the time to read through his notebook, which was almost complete. He only needed to take one short trip to Southeast Asia and he’d likely be finished. It frightened him to realize that he’d soon have to send it off to the publishers in London. It almost seemed like a child to him, the son or daughter he’d likely never have. He’d never been the best with his essays in school, but he wanted to make sure that the manuscript was at least legible (no small task, considering the abysmal quality of his handwriting).
Around eight thirty, Tina poked her head into the room.
“Newt?” She whispered, confused. “What are you…?”
“Seems to help him sleep,” Newt whispered back. Tina’s face softened a little. “There’s some of Jacob’s rolls out for breakfast when he wakes up.”
Newt just nodded “Queenie?” He mouthed.
“Out,” she said with a shake of her head. They had the flat to themselves, then.
He smiled a thank you as she hurried off to work. Newt let his head rest back against the bed frame and felt strangely at ease. He was the sort of person who was prone to wanderlust, and really, he’d lived with it all his life. Moments like these, when he didn’t feel that tug at his heart, were rare.
Credence started to stir maybe an hour later, when the sun was all the way up and the shadows on the street were short. He woke up with a jolt, startling Newt out of his editing.
“Credence?”
“N-newt,” The boy said, looking like he was sorting through things in his head.
“Are you feeling any better?” Newt asked.
No response.
“Hungry?”
Credence nodded sharply. This, at least, Newt could manage.
“Come on then, why don’t you put on a change of—ah—“ Newt glanced around, and realized that Credence didn’t have other clothes. He flipped open his case to the muggle part, and pulled out some trousers and a shirt. “These should fit you decently, you’re not too much taller than me. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready.”
He left Credence to change and rummaged around in the kitchen, putting together some coffee and eggs to go with Jacob’s excellent rolls. Household-y spells had never been his forte, but living on his own had taught him a few of the essentials.
Credence padded hesitantly into the kitchen a few minutes later.
“Why don’t you sit down?” Newt called over his shoulder, still busy cooking. He heard one of the chairs being slowly shifted back, and then in again. Credence was almost eerily quiet, and it unsettled Newt a little bit. He shook it off, though, and set a plate down on the table for each of them. Credence’s eyes widened at the sight of all the food, and Newt’s heart clenched a little bit.
“You should eat, you must be famished.” He said, if only to fill the silence. “We can talk, after, if you want. You must have questions.”
They ate in silence. Credence chewed very slowly, but he did finish most of what was on his plate
“You don’t have to eat all of it,” Newt said suddenly, quite aware that he was the only one who’d said anything the whole meal, “It’s a lot of food.”
This seemed to startle Credence. “I—I should finish.” He said quickly, and started to shovel more eggs into his mouth.
“Really, it’s all right. We can save it.” Newt was kicking himself. He had no business putting such a large, rich meal in front of a boy who had probably been living off of gruel and God knows what else for most of his life, not to mention with what Tina had told him about the strict mother.
Credence’s breath hitched, but he set the fork down with a shaking hand.
“Well… is there anything you want to ask me, right off the bat?” Newt asked, businesslike.
Credence was still for a few moments. “Why?”
Newt stared at him blankly.
“Why… me? Why are you doing all this? For me?”
The question damn near broke Newt’s heart. How to even begin to answer it?
“We’re doing this for you because it’s right, Credence. You’ve had an awful time of it and we want to help fix that.”
“I killed people,” said Credence with painful candor, like he’d said that to himself a million times. “I could hurt you.”
“I don’t think you’d hurt me,” Newt said carefully, “Or Tina or Queenie or Jacob, and certainly not on purpose. Accidents happen, but that’s never your fault.”
Credence was silent. Newt wondered if he’d pushed too much.
“You trust me,” Credence said finally, like he was testing the idea out.
“Yes.”
He fell silent again. Suddenly, it was all a little too much for Newt. He regretted it terribly, but this was exactly the part of him that had kept him from making friends at Hogwarts. He could feel the emotional tension of the situation rolling at him in waves, a situation he'd never known how to deal with.
“I— I need to see to my creatures, I think my Dugbog might have gotten into the shed.” He mumbled, getting up and charming the dirty plates into the sink. “I’m going to leave the case open, you can come down anytime you like.”
Newt rushed off and quickly clambered into the case. He had no idea what had gotten into him, he usually wasn’t that abrupt. There was something about Credence that just seemed to make his heart beat faster than usual.