Trustfall

Summary: Written for Tarlan as part of the FandomGiftBox challenge. Newt finds and rescues the original Percival Graves
Warning(s): AU; spoilers for the movie
Pairing: Newt Scamander/Original Percival Graves

###

He’d been locked up for so long, he didn’t even remember what freedom was anymore. The sight of the blue sky high above him; the sun as it beamed down on him. The feel of a cool breeze as it ruffled through his hair. Anything, really, other than the darkness that surrounded him. The feel of the cold steel clasped around his wrists and ankles was the only touch he’d experienced for a long time.

The chains weren’t the only thing holding him in place, though. Grindelwald had made sure he was held fast with magic. And to add insult to injury, he had placed Percival’s wand at the other end of the tiny, dingy cell. As Percival’s eyes had adjusted, he’d been able to make out the familiar outline of his wand, taunting him, just out of reach.

How long had he been chained up here for? Days? Weeks? Months? He didn’t think it had been as long as a year, but time had lost all meaning, running together and confounding his usual senses. The only breaks in the monotony was when food and water was teleported to him infrequently.

But it had been a long time since he’d had anything to eat or drink. A gnawing hunger had filled his stomach and his mouth was so dry, his lips felt glued together.

Movement at his cell door caught his attention and he tensed up, preparing himself for the worst. He doubted he could even put up a meagre defence if Grindelwald had decided he’d outlived his usefulness.

Maybe he could resort to brawling, as the muggles called it.

Hoisting himself up further on the chains, Percival braced his feet firmly on the wall behind him. He tensed his body and grit his teeth, playing through the plan in his mind: as soon as Grindelwald was within range, he’d push himself forcefully off the wall. Knee his captor in the shoulders. With any luck, the chains would snap and he’d be able to grab his wand and cast at least one spell before Grindelwald could react.

The door opened. Light gleamed around the outline of a body. Percival tensed his body even further, ready for his moment. Ready to force his weakened body to fight back as Grindelwald stepped into his space.

It wasn’t his captor.

Percival’s whole body slumped, the tension seeping out of him to be replaced by exhaustion. “Who are you?” That was the question he wanted to ask, at any rate. What came out sounded like a garbled mess, even to his own ears.

“I’m Newt Scamander. I’m here to rescue you.” The man took a slight step back, gaze moving over Percival’s body. “Assuming you are, in fact, the real Percival Graves,” he added.

“Mmglargh.” What was meant to be an answer in the affirmative came out sounding like a noise a beast might make.

“Oh. Right.” Newt cleared his throat and drew out his wand. He tapped his open palm, muttered a spell and a goblet of clear liquid appeared in his hand. He moved forward, holding the goblet to Percival’s lips.

As soon as the cool water hit his dry mouth and ran down his parched throat, Percival was drinking greedily. “More,” he demanded, his voice more understandable, as Newt pulled the goblet away.

“Not too much at once,” the other wizard cautioned. “If you eat or drink too much, you’ll make yourself sick.” He set down the black briefcase he carried and opened it. Muttering a stern-sounding, “Stay,” he gave the goblet to a furry paw that reached up for it and then stood, looking at Percival once more. “I can’t physically carry you out of here and I suspect you can’t walk out on your own steam.”

The denial sprang to Percival’s lips, but didn’t pass them. It galled him to think about, but Newt was right. Licking his lips for the last bit of moisture, he asked, “Then what do you propose?”

“You need time to rest. To heal.” The certainty faded from Newt’s voice and he continued, “I’m not really supposed to still be here. I can take you to the Congress, if you’d prefer, but you don’t look good. You can rest inside and heal. Perhaps join me in my trip to Arizona. I’m going there to release my Thunderbird. His name’s Frank.”

Percival stared at the other wizard, trying to get his own thoughts in order. Was he understanding this correctly? Maybe his thoughts were too muddled by his long captivity. Maybe he was even hallucinating. “You want me to go with you to Arizona?” he mumbled finally.

“I was going to go alone, but since coming here to America, I’ve…started to realise that maybe I don’t want or really need to be alone.” Newt stepped closer to Percival, his chest brushing the wizard’s dangling knees. He raised his wand, touching it to the chains.

The metal melted from around his wrists. His body too weakened to hold himself up, Percival slumped forward. The only thing stopping him from collapsing into an undignified heap on the ground was Newt wrapping his arms around him to hold him up.

Percival didn’t immediately pull away from the other wizard and not just because his legs refused to support him. There was something almost comforting in the first physical contact he’d had since being locked up here.

Finally, he stepped back. Forced himself to stand on his own two feet and nodded to the briefcase. “There more water in there?”

“Food too.” Newt paused before adding, “There should be some butterbeer left.”

Butterbeer. Just the thought of the drink was almost enough to make him salivate. He picked up his wand and clutched it in a white-knuckled grip. No one would take it from him again. He pointed his free hand at the briefcase. “Lead the way.”

Following the other wizard into the briefcase only felt like a bad idea for a second. After all, if Newt wanted to hurt him, he could have done so quite easily.

While Percival expected there was more to the interior (he’d seen the furry paw, after all), Newt only took him to a small wooden hut with a single mattress and a small table next to it. Sunlight streamed through from a window just behind the mattress and the wooden floorboards were clear and free of dirt or dust.

Percival sank rather than sat down on the mattress. There was no mirror to check his reflection, but his clothes reeked and he wrinkled his nose before apologising stiffly. “I couldn’t wash myself. Or change my clothes.”

“I’ve smelled worse.” Newt look a bit distant for a moment before he took two steps back, pointed his wand at the floor in front of them and muttered a spell.

A pile of food and water appeared on the floor in front of Percival, several plates and cups worth. There was a tankard of butterbeer included, too and Percival found his eyes drawn to that first, even as he forced himself to pick up one of the plates of cheese and fruit.

“I wasn’t sure what kind of things you eat, so I just brought some of everything I have.” Newt walked over and sat down on the mattress next to Percival.

Despite his best intentions, Percival found himself shovelling cheese and grapes into his mouth. He finished the contents of the plate and then reached for another one that had meat on it.

Newt hesitantly placed a hand on Percival’s wrist. “I’ve seen the effects of starvation on the animals I look after. They gorge themselves until it kills them. You need to eat slower and in smaller bites,” he cautioned. “Let your body get used to eating again.” He picked up one of the cups and held it out to Percival with a hesitant smile. “Drink something and give your stomach a chance to settle before you carry on eating.”

Taking the cup, Percival drank, allowing himself to take small sips this time. Lowering the cup, he turned his hand over, pulling it towards his body so that his and Newt’s hands touched and then clasped. “How did you find me?”

Newt shrugged. “Grindelwald was confronted in one of the subway tunnels. It wasn’t much of a stretch to assume he’d be keeping you in a similar place.” He looked down at their clasped hands, but didn’t pull away.

“Is Grindelwald dead, then?” Percival forced his voice to sound neutral. Like he didn’t care one way or the other.

Newt looked away, carefully pulling his hand free of Percival’s. Instead of answering, he said, “If you do need to shower, there’s a small room through that door there.” He nodded towards the door, which was nearly the same shade as the rest of the hut, almost enough to blend in with the rest of the walls.

“Thank you.” Percival ate a few slices of meat, drank a bit more water and then stood up, walking towards the indicated door. He still held his wand, though his grip wasn’t nearly as tight as it had been. Still, he had no intention of letting his wand out of his sight even for a second.

The shower room was small. There was a slightly discoloured tile directly underneath the showerhead. The rest of the tiles were bright yellow, while that one was a slightly darker shade.

Turning round, Percival saw a floating hook on the back of the door. He stripped out of his dirty, sweaty clothes and hung them on the hook. Then, he stepped onto the discoloured tile.

Immediately, water sprayed out of the showerhead. It took only seconds to reach a comfortable temperature and Percival sighed, allowing himself to relax under the water. He reached his fingers out and encountered soap and shampoo and proceeded to wash himself leisurely, until the water trickling away ran clear instead of streaked with grey.

By the time he was done and stepping away from the tile, turning the water off, his dirty clothes were gone. Instead, dangling from the hook, was a large, fluffy white towel. He took it down, rubbing his body and hair dry, and then folded it neatly and set it to one side, turning his attention to the clean clothes that now hung from the hook: a plain white shirt and a pair of black trousers, with a pair of white boxers. He dressed slowly, taking his time, revelling in the feeling of being clean and having his stomach full, for the first time in a long time.

When Percival finally stepped back out into the main room of the hut, Newt was still sitting on the bed. He looked up towards Percival, giving a slightly uncertain smile. “Are you feeling better?”

“Much.” Percival spoke with feeling as he walked over and sat down on the bed next to Newt once more. He picked up one of the other plates and settled it between them, making eye contact with the other wizard. “Are you hungry? We can share food.”

“Thank you.” Newt began to pick at the food on the plate. When they’d finished it between them, he pointed his wand at the tankard of butterbeer and brought it to Percival’s hands, then summoned one for himself.

Percival drank deeply, swilling the sweet liquid around in his mouth before he swallowed it. “I’ve missed that.” His voice was hoarse. Suddenly and impulsively, he leaned in and kissed Newt quickly on the lips, tasting the combined sweetness of the butterbeer both of them had drunk.

The kiss was gentle and lingering. Newt held it for a few moments and then pulled back slowly, eyes searching Percival’s face. “Are you just saying thank you?”

“There are plenty of ways I can say thank you that don’t involve kissing.” Percival leaned forward again and they kissed once more, this time with a little bit more intensity. This time, it lasted for a lot longer before they finally separated.

Percival looked slowly round the small hut and then focused on Newt once more. “I think I’m more likely to recover better here, with you, than if I tried to go back out there straight away.”

The End