Chapter Text
Winters are not pleasant in New York. The snow and sleet that pounded agains Credence’s narrow frame, however, did little to deter him as he pressed onwards. After the train station, he hadn’t really felt much at all.
To be fair, there hadn’t been much of him anyway. Just a few wisps of dusty shadow. He had drifted around in the wind for quite some time, until he started to feel tired and… slept?
He woke up curled up in an alley, back in his old gawky body. As he rose, shivering, he realized that he was aching all over, worse than he ever had before. Credence had felt some awful pain—the belt on his back, his hands—but this, this was different. His very bones seemed to throb.
I must go somewhere, he thought suddenly. Ma’s gonna b—
He flinched. His Ma wouldn’t be doing much of anything now.
He was walking. This wasn’t an area of the city that he recognized, but he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to be back in the part that he did know. There were three-story buildings to each side, and a narrow sidewalk. He had no idea where he was going, but thinking about it terrified him: Graves had betrayed him, Ma was dead, his sisters would never want him— that woman from the station, whom he’d met once before (Tina?) seemed like she might not even be real.
Not to mention the darkness. It had mostly gone, but he knew that some of it remained, or he would never have woken up. He could never let himself explode like that again, he knew, after all of the destruction that had come of his rampage.
Cursed, devil child! You’re letting him win, Credence. This is your fault. Take responsibility for your filthy wickedness.
His hand went numbly to his belt, and then shuddered and dropped back to his side. He would find somewhere dry, he decided, and sleep there. Whether or not he woke up seemed of little consequence.
And then, a man appeared on the sidewalk. He hadn’t been there a second before, Credence was sure of it. For someone walking in the middle of a vicious winter storm, he seemed awfully dry—his blue overcoat didn’t have so much as a spot.
The figure started towards Credence. Alarmed, Credence shrank towards a set of stairs, blending into a background as he’d done so many times. The man in blue didn’t seem fooled, though. He grew closer still, and Credence curled further downwards, making himself a smaller target.
“Credence? I’m not going too hurt you. I just want to talk. Do you remember me?”
Credence forced himself to look up. The man had a small smile, and reddish hair everywhere.
“My name is Newt Scamander, Credence. I’m a friend of Tina’s. We’ve met.”
Credence felt paralyzed. He did recognize this man, from the station… he wondered if he should take the opportunity to run. Wondered if he was capable of running. The man didn’t seem threatening in the least, and he wasn’t holding his wand. Credence met his eyes for the first time, and remembered him twitching on the tracks at the station. He had been trying to help.
“Credence…” he said softly, reaching out. “Let me help you. Take my hand, and I’ll take you back to Tina’s flat.”
“I can’t, sir” Credence croaked, “After… I’m a monster.”
Newt crouched down, staring at Credence with earnest intensity. “You’re not a monster, Credence. None of it was your fault. If anything, it was mine… Now, please, the weather’s horrible, and I think Tina and Queenie are rather anxious to have the both of us dry and warm.”
Credence lowered his gaze, and extended a trembling hand. Newt clasped it gently, and they were both swept into a breathtaking darkness.