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At times like this he wished to be stronger, bigger, capable of helping the person that had saved his life a long time ago. It all had happened so fast and he had no chance to prevent it even if he wanted to. In the blink of an eye, a blast of magic had knocked his companion onto the floor, rendering him unconscious and causing his brown box to fall on the floor.
Pickett tried not to panic as he saw the reddening skin where the burn from the spell was spreading, and there was blood dribbling from Newt’s forehead from where his head hit the floor. He tried his best to ignore the fear coursing through his body as the bad humans got near them.
Those three monsters should be the ones on the floor, not his human. Newt only wanted to save the strange bird they were carrying (if he wasn’t panicking, he would remember that Newt told him it was a diricawl, but he had no time to remember names). His companion didn’t do anything wrong, so why was he the one on the floor instead of those monsters hurting the poor bird?
He crawled all the way up to Newt’s face, gingerly caressing his cheek as he whines softly, as if the sound of his voice would be enough to will Newt awake. He looked behind him, tensing when he noticed the three bad humans looking down at him.
“Well look at that. This guy has a bowtruckle. It’s our lucky day,” one of them laughed, the shorter one who resembled a miniature troll. “Bet we can sell that little thing for a good amount.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” The other one, a man much taller than the first one and who had his hand on the struggling bird, said, signaling at the other two to get him. “Get him before he gets away!”
He looked between his still unconscious companion and the bad men, taking a defensive stance even though he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. There were three against one with an obvious size difference, but he wouldn’t let them do any harm without putting up a fight.
The troll-like man was beginning to bend down to get him. If he bit him hard enough, would he cause any harm to this man? He hoped so. He could almost feel the man’s hands on him when…
“Stupefy!” One familiar voice screamed, and the body of the man that was about to get him blasted away. It was Percy! Percy had come to save them!
He almost felt like crying in joy when he saw the man. Newt’s mate had his wand out, shielding himself from any magic the other two men were throwing at his direction. He was vivid, enraged, his face red and shaking from anger as soon as he saw Newt.
“Expealliarmus,” he yelled at the third man, the quietest one of the bunch, sending him back in a similar way as the previous man, making him drop the wand.
Percy pointed his wand at the tall man holding the bird, eyes holding a promise of suffering if he didn’t get his way.
“I suggest you hand over the creature,” he said, sounding more composed than his expression indicated, and that made him seem even more intimidating. He was glad that Percy never got that mad at him. “Now.”
The man visibly flinched at the tone but did nothing to drop the bird.
“Listen, pal. We don’t want any trouble,” he said, slowly backing away from Percy. But with every step back the bad man took, Percy took a step forward. “I- I’ll just…” the tall man didn’t know what to say, opting to point his wand as well. “Don’t come near me.”
“Threatening an official MACUSA member, illegal possession of an animal with plans of trafficking…” Percy trailed off, eyes back on Newt, the grip on his wand tightening, “causing harm to innocent civilians. I cannot let these felonies go unpunished. So, I suggest you start cooperating now. Hand over the creature.”
“Yo-you think I’m stupid enough to let myself be captured by the MACUSA?” the tall man asked. “No way you’re getting me pal,” he threw a blast of magic at Percy, who blocked it with ease., but the attacks didn’t stop.
The bad man kept throwing magic at his companion’s mate, and though Percy was more than capable of attacking it, he seemed to realize that if he attacked the man then the animal would be harmed. And if the animal was harmed, then Newt would be sad. Percy would never make Newt sad.
He gave Newt a small hug (it looked more like Pickett was pinching his cheek but he couldn’t be blamed for being so tiny), before hopping down, running towards the bad man who was too busy throwing his magic at Percy.
He climbed up, doing his best so that the man didn’t feel him going up, until he finally reached his arm. Him and the bird shared a look, and Pickett nodded at him. He opened his mouth and, with as much force as he could muster, bit into the skin. The man winced in pain, dropping the bird on the floor, and Percy took this as a chance to attack.
“Stupefy,” he chanted again, knocking the winds out of the last man standing. He looked at the three men on the floor, getting the cuffs out of his coat. “I’m getting sick of idiots like you causing trouble in New York.”
Pickett chirped in happiness, blowing out a raspberry at the evil man who was very much awake but in too much pain to move a muscle.
“Aren’t you brave?” Percy asked in amusement towards Pickett, cuffing the men in an instant.
But the amusement didn’t last as his attention went back to Newt, who was still on the same spot he was ever since he arrived. Percy was at Newt’s side, inspecting his lover’s figure and frowning when he saw the visible wounds.
In that moment, it didn’t matter that there were criminals on the ground, or that the bird was walking in circles around Pickett, afraid to go too far in case someone tried to capture him again. Pickett could see that Percy only had eyes for Newt, placing a hand on his cheek with utmost care, not daring to move his lover or startle him.
“Hey,” he heard Percy say, caressing Newt’s cheek with his thumb. Pickett could feel relief course through his body as little by little, his companion’s eyes slowly opened, staring back at Percy with confusion.
Percy looked relieved as well, not moving his hand away as he smiled down the man he loved.
“Percival? What are you doing here?” Newt’s voice was strained, as if it was too much to talk at the moment. His eyes widened as he remembered what happened to him. “The diricawl! I was supposed to help him and some men just—“.
“He’s fine. See?” Percy cut him off, showing him the bird still hanging around. “It’s all fine now.”
The bird cocked his head at Newt when he felt the man staring at him, curious as to why he was the subject of such stares, and yet it didn’t ran away. It must have felt that they meant no harm.
“That’s good,” he smiled gently at Percy, blinking lazily as he did his best to ignore the pounding headache. “You really kept your word, love.”
From the corner of his eye, Pickett saw Newt holding a small pendant shaped like a small, golden feather. It reminded him of Frank’s own feathers, only less sparkly. He missed Frank; if he were here he could’ve helped Pickett save his companion with ease.
“It wouldn’t be right for me to ignore your call in a time of distress now, wouldn’t it?” Percy told Newt. “I gave you that pendant for a reason.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, but it was getting harder for him to keep his eyes open.
Pickett looked at Newt in worry, whining at Percy to help him. He looked like he was in pain still. Certainly, there must be something he could do.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t need to thank me for saving you,” Percy said, carefully positioning Newt’s body in his arms and lifting him up, cradling his mate’s face in his chest. “Let’s get you healed up.”
Pickett had been around them for a long time to know how much his companion hated being carried that way, often complaining he was ‘not a lass that needed to be brought over to places.’ He wasn’t complaining though, and his eyes were starting to close once again.
“The diricawl,” Newt muttered, looking down to where Pickett was. “Pickett, would you please?”
He nodded, walking towards the brown box Newt always carries (it’s called a suitcase, Pickett. Stop being bad with names), asking the bird to come over as he opened the locks. He could hear his fellow friends down there, making noise as they noticed the doors of their home opening, but none of them made the offer to get out. The bird got the hint of what they wanted him to do and, without second thought, jumped into his new home. With the bird inside, the case closed up, and Pickett made sure it was completely locked just like Newt taught him to.
“Thank you,” Newt said once more, this time at the bowtruckle, who puffed his chest in pride because yes, bowtruckles could be of much help despite what a lot of people think.
“Mr. Graves! Sir, you could’ve waited for me. I had no idea where to go and—oh dear,” this was a new voice. It was the girl that helped them out when they arrived to New York. Tina, yes, that was her name. “Newt, are you alright?”
“He is now, Miss Goldstein,” Percy answered for Newt “I will explain everything to you later. If you could, please take these… men to the headquarters.
The woman looked like she wanted to ask a lot of questions, body all fidgety at the situation, but she didn’t push it.
“Of course, Mr. Graves. I’ll take them there immediately,” she was quick to comply, still glancing at Newt with worry. “Are you in pain?”
“A little bit. I’m sure it will pass,” he weakly said, facial expression scrunching up a bit as another wave of pain from the headache hit. “I’ve been in worse situations than this so I’ll be fine.” Pickett knew he was telling the truth. He had witnessed as his companion got hurt multiple times by both creatures and humans. He should take care of himself better. He saw the way Newt was looking as his brown bo…suitcase, uneasy as it lay alone on the floor. “Could you please hand me my suitcase, Tina?”
“Oh, yes. Here you go,” she picked it up, with Pickett taking the chance to hop on top of it, and she handed both the case and Pickett over to the hurt man. Newt hugged the case to his chest, ignoring yet another wave of pain. “Take care of yourself, you hear me?”
“He’s in capable hands. That I can assure, Miss Goldstein,” Percy told the woman. Some groans could be heard in the background, the men that Percy had knocked over were staring to get up. He should scold Percy for not using a stronger spell on them. “I’ll be going now. I’m sure these men won’t give you trouble on the way back.”
“I can handle myself, sir.” The woman responded, turning to the cuffed men and pushing them towards the way she came from. Looks like the men knew better than go against them now, afraid to get into more trouble with the MACUSA. Pickett could only hope for the worst to happen to them.
Ha, that’s what they get for hurting his companion. No one hurts Newt and gets away with it.
He looked at Percy, who was looking at Newt, expression going soft again as they made their way home.
“Just warning you Scamander, as soon as you feel better, I’m going to have to lecture you,” the older man told the one in his arms, no bad intentions in his words. In fact, Pickett noted that despite of the words, he was actually being playful.
Humans were so weird.
“I would be surprised if you didn’t Mr. Graves,” Newt responded, voice hushed at the lack of energy.
“You can go to sleep now if you want to,” Percy told him, planting a soft kiss in the other’s forehead in comfort, and Pickett chirped in, agreeing with him. Looks like his companion didn’t need to be told twice, not arguing at all as he lets his eyes close, this time willingly. A smile graced his features despite the ache in his body.
And when they got home and Percy healed up Newt’s wounds, with Pickett at his side to tend to his human, he couldn’t help but be grateful for this man. Sure, Pickett helped, but he couldn’t have saved Newt alone. Percy was a good mate, and Pickett didn’t have to worry for Newt’s safety if Percy was there with them.
The two of them will always take care of their human.