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In A Week

Summary:

Percival had no regrets as he set out his last mission: coming after Grindelwald to revenge for Credence's death, his love. But nothing falls into his plans, and nothing was what he prepared for.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Percival Graves was not a man typical of regretting his decisions. He never made a move without thinking carefully and working all the options through. He rarely acted on his instincts unless the situation required speed decision. He especially never let his feelings interfere his decisions, a rare trait that made him one of the most powerful aurors at MACUSA and he would always be proud of that.

 But now as he laid on the cold hard ground, feeling the mug dripping all over his face, his hair sticky with blood and dirt, his shirt torn apart leaving his bleeding flesh opening to the howling winds, regret was the first feeling he had when being in such situation. His mind took him back to the time when he first met Credence, a young boy handing out leaflets on the streets near MACUSA headquarters. Out in the streets at night under the September cool breeze, his trembling hands hit Graves’s chest as he was in a hurry leaving the office. And that poor boy shook even harder when mumbling his apology to Graves, his eyes were always down on the ground. That was their first encounter, the first of many other times later when Graves shielded Credence from the cold, healed him from his mom's beatings, gave him not just the warmth but the affection that stirred the desire in both bodies.  

He wasn't regretful then, when he was held captured by the renowned dark wizard whom he was supposed to be hunting. Ironically he became a toy in his hand, unable to escape, unable to fulfill his promise of protecting his boy. But he was when Graves remembered clearly the pain burning his bones as Grindelwald tortured him to get information of the boy, of his habits and feelings. Grindelwald laughed so darkly satisfied when finding out how deep their relationship went hiding behind the normal social norms. But he made no mention of that later, simply taking advantage of the existing romance Graves shared with Credence. Graves usually pushed back the thought of Grindelwald in his form approaching Credence, the things they would do together. He convinced himself time after time, as long as Credence believed Grindelwad to be Graves and did as he asked, the boy would not be in danger. He was not what Grindelwald seeked after all.

 When MACUSA located him, Graves’s body felt boneless but he was happy knowing that his nightmare now finally ended. He could soon have his life with Credence by his side again. He could not keep that tiny light of hope for long when one of his aurors slipped that they destroyed the obscurus, who turned out to be the Salemn boy he dearly loved. He faced another strict surveillance by MACUSA after the angry outburst that destroyed his own bedroom.

 Graves could not tell how long time had passed when he was grounded in his own home. Picquery said it was for his own good, that he needed to rest, to recover his full strength and how much she needed him to come back to his old self. But that was what they knew on the surface. What they did not see was his grief. He never got a good sleep. Credence was always there in his dream, a beautiful figure firm in his arms, warm and loving. Then when Graves gazed at him adoringly for long enough, the boy would perish into ashes as his eyes turned white and his scream would haunt Graves's mind even when he was awake. Graves knew he woke up to a wet pillow sometimes, damp with his own tears as he knew deep down, he was responsible for Credence's death. He brought the boy into his life yet he failed to protect him. He thought the boy was a no-maj at first, yet he kept him close, too close to the wizarding world and that's how he fell under the dark wizard's control.

“Did he suffer?”, he asked in one of Newt Scamander's visit.

“Credence, did he suffer?”, he asked again, his tone remained impassive yet his fingers twisted the sheets tightly.

Everyone would try withholding information from him, but he knew Newt would not. He knew better of taking care of patients than any other aurors including what information to give, and what to not. And more importantly, Newt could not lie.

“He did", the red-haired said quietly. His tone was quiet and kind, but those two words were like daggers stabbing at his heart day by day.

But when Graves's health got better, it seemed his mind did as well. He spent more time practicing his magic, sharpened them more, went deeper with the dark magic with everything he got as he nurtured the revenge growing strong and more fierce in his heart. As soon as he learnt of Grindelwald's escape, he grew more and more determined with his revenge plan. “At all costs", he told himself every night and casted aside all the persuasion or pleading him to stay.

 Filling with revenge and regret, he went on his own mission hunting down the dark wizard. Before Graves would work with MACUSA with strategic plans and teamwork to capture the most dangerous wizard of all time and bring him to face justice, but now Graves just wanted to kill him at all costs for all the things he did to Credence.

He remembered Grindelwald's dangerous smirk as the blonde guy stood tall with his boot pressed on Graves's face. It was bitter to admit he failed and it was worse to face his enemy like this.

“Just do it", he gritted, lifting his head to spit at the tall man but one kick in his abdomen forced him down.

“Oh not so quick dear. I would not let you go so easily after all we had together", Grindelwald grinned at him darkly and Graves braced himself for what was about to come. Months spent under his captivity and the memories were fresh in his mind.

The Cruciatus curse hit him and Graves screamed desperately loud in the forest. Even the sound of his scream were familiar to his ears and he welcomed it as an old friend. When the curse stopped, Graves laughed hysterically as Grindelwald watched him with curiosity. Then the curse hit him again, and again, mixed with other hexes too as Graves lied helplessly on the ground, feeling bit by bit of his power leaving his body now.

This would be it, he knew. This was the end of him, alone, in the forest with no one by his side or no one knowing of his location. Grindelwald kneeled next to him, grabbed his chin and inspected. Graves's eyesight was leaving him as the dark wizard's face was just a blur to him now.

“You are strong and fierce, I give you that. But you're no match for me. It's such a pity we cannot work together. So my last gift for you was to be the first victim enjoying my greatest invention - a new spell unlike anything you have experienced before.”, the dark wizard slapped his face gently as he rose from his foot. Graves’s bad eyesight could still work out a sinister smirk from the man above him.

Graves tried to take in deep breaths but it was in vain. He screamed again as the inaudible words from Grindelwald hit him, a purple light covered his own body and he shook violently as he could tell his flesh were being torn apart, slowly, inch by inch. A cut was forming on his biceps, or his thighs, and on his left face; they were everywhere and Graves screamed twisted fiercely on the ground but an invisible rope held him tight in his place. And then as suddenly as it came, the pain stopped.

“The curse is repetitive. It'd be no easy death for you, boy", Grindelwald laughed his maniac tone as another wave hit Graves and he screamed before he could stop himself. Then Grindelwald disapparated and Graves knew he was left alone in the woods, just himself and the curse, and his screams.

 

So this was it, his mind reminded him as the pain stopped. He could feel blood pouring out from everywhere on his body, soaking through his shirt, feeding the grass and soil. Every veins in his body now must have been stretched to the point of no return. And he knew it would continue like this for long, until he died from blood shortage, or torn flesh, or the burning bones, whichever came first. A slow and painful death, just as Grindelwald promised.

 For many years working for MACUSA, climbing up the auror ranks chasing criminals around the world, he never had imagined his death, never spared a second thought about it. And the reality hit him now that he was alone in his death. He was alone in his life before, knowing of working only and pushing everyone away from him. The only time he did not feel alone was when he was with Credence, having the boy's slender body pressed against him on his bed, nuzzling close seeking warmth. He would smile to himself in such rare moments of peace as he rubbed the boy's short hair gently. 

The waves of cut rushed through him again but now Graves was too weak to scream anymore. His body arched and twisted in its boundaries with the pain and when it faded, Graves was sure Credence was caressing his face and cleaned the dirt on his cheeks.

“Credence", he murmured weakly as the boy lied down next to him, moving close.

Credence was looking at him, he was crying and cold as his fingers ran on Graves's flesh. With the amount of cuts he had now, Graves knew his skin would be painful to touch but Credence soothed him easily.

“I'm sorry I failed to protect you. I'm sorry I failed to revenge you", he sobbed in words as the boy gazed at him with his big brown eyes and constantly shake his head as if he was trying to tell Graves he did no wrong. But Percival Graves would never forgive himself, for letting such dangerous creature like Grindelwald laid hands on an ethereal beauty like Credence.

 The pain hit him again and Credence held him in his embrace as Graves's body shook and his eyes got watery. He could hear the howling of the wolves from distance. They must get the invitation to come and get a taste of him from all the blood and flesh scent dense in the air.

“Credence, you need to go. The wolves are coming.”, he begged, tears continued streaming down his face. But Credence shook his head and tightened his embrace. And that was when Graves noticed the boy's cold skin against his.

 This was not real, Graves realized. It was the construction of his mind as he welcomed death. And now he would embrace it. He could imagine Credence being close to him, his eyes closing and his lips smiling. Even though the pink died out from his cheeks, the boy would look beautiful in his sleep. And Graves would follow him too, as he laid still and wait until sleep could take him and feel his flesh going calmly cold.  

Graves wondered how long it would take for the others to find him, in a week or two, or may be months. It took him that long to trace Grindelwald's location after all. May be when they were here, what's left of him was his corpse and the flesh torn apart by the wolves, then the foxes and the remaining things of him were home to the insects. But by then Graves knew he would already be home with Credence, his mind would be at peace finally together with the boy no matter where their souls reside in this cruel world. So why it would matter now, he smiled to himself meeting Credence’s eyes and the boy gave him a small smile too.

 Graves felt no pain anymore, not another wave hit him or he finally ran out blood and his body was numb to the feelings. Yet he could feel the way Credence's fingers entwined with his, gently but shy as the boy always had been, even after their first night spent together or when Graves confessed he would lay out everything at his feet for Credence, or do anything for him.

“I'll see you now baby boy", Graves spoke between his last breath, eyes closing in and a small smile were on his lips because he knew he's home.

 Even as he closed his eyes and was ready to drift away, Graves felt the wolves approaching him, their growls were close to his ears and he wished he would be unconscious already when the nearest one took a bite. But that did not happen as he felt a strong force of dark smoke from afar running at its full speed towards his direction and hitting the wolves. There was a mass of forest leaves and small branches circling him as the thump of the wolves body hitting against the trees. Then it all died out, as sudden as it appeared. Graves was not sure what to feel as his body twisted again from the pain of the curse and that was the last one he could feel, Graves was sure of it. Yet before darkness took hold of him, Graves could feel the dark smoke going away leaving a slender body behind and it was approaching him.

 “Credence, we're home", he tried but the words couldn't escape his lips. He ran out of breath too but he smiled because finally they were together even in the afterworld. And all of his regret could finally leave him in peace.

 

o0o

 

Lost was the first thing Percival felt as his eyes took in the white surroundings. He had no idea what life after death looked like. Then his second realization was how soft the sheets were and how pleasant the herbal scent filled his nostrils. And his eyes opened widely as he stared at the red curls and green eyes looking down at him obviously with great concern.

“Newt, what - how did you find me? I was dead.”, he spoke; and then closed his mouth because the sound coming out was too rough and too difficult to hear.

Newt put the glass of water closed to his lips and reluctantly he sipped it. That was when Percival noticed how he could not feel almost entirely of his body.

“I thought you were dead when we found you too. But your faint heartbeat was there and maybe it was not easy to bring down the head of MACUSA", Newt turned to put the glass away and then pulled the chair to sit next to him.

“How?”, he asked, still trying to get used to his back-from-the-death tone.

“Message from a patronus", Newt said simply.

“Whose?”, Percy demanded. His arms twitched as the magizoologist removed the bandage.

“Don't know", Newt shrugged. “What mattered is you're back with us".

“Where is everyone?”, he demanded more information. It's surprising how his old auror senses were so quick to the familiar tasks, better than his own body.

“Just me alone. No one can seem to find you if too many people travel with the patronus", Newt explained.

“That was him", Percival said firmly. Newt’s head shot up at him alarmed.

 “Grindelwald?”, his eyes opened widely in shock. 

“No, it's Credence", Percy said, couldn't believe in his own words. 

Newt’s frown formed again. “Credence is dead, Percival", he tried to make it as soft as possible. But the tragic words did not have the same impact on Graves as it used to. 

“No, it was him. I'm sure of it", he felt like his neurons were regaining strength ten times faster than his body could as he recalled the scene and described it out loud.

“The dark smoke was him, Newt. I saw him transforming. He came to me.”, Percy never saw an obscurus transforming before. But from the stories he was told, it came close.

“I had to find him", he decided, forcing himself to sit up but the pain shot suddenly throughout his entire body made him groan.

“No, no, Percival. You are not going anywhere. It took me a week to bring you back. I'm not letting you on a suicidal mission again.”, Newt was almost pleading as he gently pressed his palm on Percival's chest, carefully avoiding the healing cuts.

“That bad?”, Percival chuckled. Newt nodded and relaxed his shoulders as Percival seemed to calm down.

“Thank you", he said softly. After all, he knew he could do no good in such a pathetic state. But once he was back on his feet again, he knew he had a mission to go.

There were a lot of questions burning in his mind. If Credence was alive, why would he not come to Percival? Where did he go and how he was doing with an Obscurus inside like that?

 “Can an obscurial have a normal life?”, the question escaped his lips before he could stop himself. But if there was a person that could explain him of this matter, only Newt Scamander could.

“I have no idea", Newt shook his head, then continued “Credence is older than any obscurus I came across. Whether he had control over his obscurus, that remained to be seen.”

 Newt looked like he was lost in his own thoughts, when Percival called him back.

“What are you not telling me?”, he demanded. His tone must be the same intimidating because the magizoologist shifted uncomfortably.

“Newt", he pressed further and Newt rubbed his palm over his face before he looked at Percival in the eyes.

“I saw a piece of the obscurus slipping away at the station that day", he said finally. His hand instinctively flew to his mouth to cover as if he just revealed some unspoken thing.

“Is it possible? Credence is still alive?”, he asked again. Glimpse of hope was obvious in his tone.

“I don't know. May be. I don't know. I failed to save him once. I don't know what I should hope for anymore”, Newt looked frustrated with himself and for a brief moment Graves felt bad for putting this on him.

“I'm going to find him", he spoke again, more like a reaffirmation to himself.

“Not until you heal first", Newt added with a rare strength Percival did not see in him before.

And he nodded because it was the logical thing to do.

 So as Newt left him behind and closed the door, Percival laid still feeling a new wave of strength flowing through his veins, boosting his recovery. May be that's the potion effect; may be that's the power of hope reaching him. But he knew he needed all the strength he could get to go on another mission: finding Credence and have their reunion come true.

Notes:

The fic is inspired from Hozier song - In a week. I clearly see the scene in my head listening to the song; it was sad but it was beautiful. And the rest was figuring out how to put Graves and Credence into this setting. I hope I manage to do the song justice.

Let me know what you think, what can I do to improve it. I'd love to hear your feedback.
I had plans for the sequel, kind of. But let's see where this leads to.