The End Of Love

[newtralize]

We were reaching in the dark
That summer in New York
And it was so far to fall
But it didn't hurt at all
And let it wash away, wash away

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[newtralize]

[A part of him recognizes the other immediately. Percival has aged quite a bit since the last time he has seen him again. It was surprising the first time and still surprising now. Humans grew up so quickly...

Newt tries to bare his teeth at the other. To try and open his mouth despite it being shut. The part of him that recognizes the other was small compared to the more paranoid part. Ladled with whatever is coursing through his system, he can't help but be suspicious. And perhaps he was also upset. To be treated so terribly, it's hard not to be mad. The hurt he was feeling was far deeper than just the physical injuries that the other could see on the surface.

There's an attempt to thrash about, but it's pitiful at best. He was starving and exhausted and in pain. The best he can muster is to look at the other with some scrutiny.]

[periit]

[ It’s difficult for Percival to think of himself as aging quickly when it feels like the dragon he’s come to known hasn’t. And it’s likely true he hasn’t, but that’s far from his thoughts given the circumstances now. For now he’s concerned with time, and how little they have.

There’s no room for fear of snarling teeth or flexing talons, not when the true fear is discovery—the rest of his aurors would be back sooner than he’d like and unlike him in this moment, they would not blink in the face of a dragon.

His heart races, tamping down the heat that wants to ruin his vision, and Percival crosses the space confidently and without a second thought. Despite his decisiveness then, when he finds the needles dug deep into the creature’s flesh he’s careful in their removal; one hand extracting while the other soothes it with magic. ]

I know it hurts, [ Percival reassures as he steadies a shoulder against the cage. ] Just give me a moment.

[newtralize]

[His mind is still too muddled to quite understand. Why was the other helping him? Why did they feel so familiar? Everything is much too chaotic, but there's something calming about this person.

It's not that it matters. He's far too exhausted to really put up a fight, so he just lays there uselessly. His tail flicks a little as he watches the other.

And there truly wasn't enough time for Percival to free the beast because there's a voice calling out to Percival. Tina Goldstein. Perhaps a little naive and inexperienced, but she was steadfast and sharp.

More importantly though, she was loyal.] Mr. Graves?

[periit]

[ Unbidden, memories of a lifetime before in foreign hill and mountainsides try and overwhelm him as he he works as quickly as he can. Though he manages to snap himself out of the thoughts, they do little more than bring a bright shimmer to his eyes and, in the end, distract him.

Percival doesn’t hear Tina enter the basement because of them, or even walk into the same room he’s in. So he freezes at the sound of her voice, a hand healing closed the wound from the IV he held in his other. ]

Ms. Goldstein… [ Taken aback, her name is breathless when he speaks it.

There was no mistaking the scene. Percival Graves—Director of Magical Security, head of MACUSA's Department of Magical Law Enforcement—was healing a dragon, not terminating it.

He turns, pallid, to see her in the doorway and tosses the needle on a nearby table. ] The smugglers are done processing?