#Okay the ending of chapter 17 may have mugged me and left me to die behind my local dairy queen

[infriga]

I just read Undefined Variable by Dark_Nation and I am frothing at the mouth gnawing my arms off losing my mind y'all should go check it out it's great:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47407228

I'm gonna add it to my DBH rec list that I swear to god I'm still working on, but I'm also making a post about it now because it made me insane pls consider reading it

[brabe]

WHAT IF... MURATA UGETSU HAS BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER?

“Murata Ugetsu was by no means detached from life- nor was he free of worries and grief, he had feelings too- the same as anyone else... But, unlike ordinary people, his heart and his emotions were overflowing.

While I listened to Ugetsu’s music that day—to the sudden flood of music-feeling that was amplified so many times more than usual, I found myself wondering — how... just how was this child prodigy able to live...?

Be it joy, or sorrow, or suffering, Ugetsu lived with feelings which were much more complex, and exponentially larger than those of ordinary people- just accumulating it all within himself.” (Chapter 17)

Murata Ugetsu’s introduction struck a chord with me right away because I recognized the feelings described all too well. So, I asked myself, what if?

 After finishing the anime, I read all the chapters of the manga mainly because I wanted to know more about this intriguing character, and I only kept finding clues that reinforced my initial assumption.

 I am hyperfixated on mental health issues, in part wanting to find characters to relate to, so here is my reading of Murata Ugetsu. I wonder if anyone came to the same conclusion as me.

Borderline personality disorder (BPD) is an illness marked by an ongoing pattern of varying moods, self-image, and behaviour. These symptoms often result in impulsive actions and problems in relationships with other people. A person with borderline personality disorder may experience episodes of anger, depression, and anxiety that may last from a few hours to days. In general, someone with a personality disorder will differ significantly from an average person in terms of how they think, perceive, feel or relate to others.

“People with BPD are like people with third degree burns over 90% of their bodies. Lacking emotional skin, they feel agony at the slightest touch or movement.” (Marsha Linehan, Professof of Psicology, who has BPD herself and developed the most effective therapy to date for this disorder).

There are many categories of symptoms for this disorder and I reckon Ugetsu manifests the following:

A pattern of unstable relationships swinging from extreme closeness and love (idealization) to extreme dislike or anger (devaluation):

The most glaringly obvious one is, of course, the relationship with Akihiko. 

“Right after Ugetsu has been away from home for some time, there is a honeymoon phase which lasts a few days. It’s as if we have returned to the past... And then out of the blue, it happens—as if he’s saying, yes, this is a great chance—let's take this opportunity, quit being together and break for real this time. Like he is in a rush... Like I am not needed. Like—he is forcibly shutting me out from his world.” (Chapter 19)

“Him and I... We have been causing each other nothing but despair for almost two years now.” (Chapter 17)  

It’s also notable the lack of other relationships. When Mafuyu asks him, why Ugetsu was confiding in him, even though they were virtually strangers, Ugetsu replies: “Because I don’t have any friends! Perhaps, I really just wanted someone to understand... Just a little bit is enough.” (Chapter 17)

He is actually really kind towards Mafuyu, opening his home to him, freely helping him with music anytime Mafuyu wants even though he is a world-renowned musician and even letting him practice at his house while he is not there. We know he does that because he recognizes the genius in Mafuyu, but still, I think he actually would like to have friends; he probably just doesn’t know how to. We know that Akihiko was his first friend and evidently years later still the only one close to him.

Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger, often followed by guilt and shame:

Ugetsu gets suddenly physically violent with Akihiko two times (and a third one is implied when Haruki first saw Akihiko and he had a bruised cheekbone). He throws a glass on the floor when Mafuyu visits him because Akihiko still hasn’t come back home. He seemingly inexplicably smashes the mug Akihiko gifted him: “Around the time we had just started to live together, when he brought me my first present, somehow... I hated that very much, and I refused it saying—’I don’t want it!’ Even though it was only a mug. Back then, I should’ve just said—’I’m happy. I want to be with him.’” (Chapter 17)

I believe the last one was a dissociative episode, another symptom of BPD, a trance-like state in which one is disconnected from their own mind, body and surroundings. Then the switch turns back on and Ugetsu suddenly starts crying, crouching on the floor, staring blankly at the broken pieces and picking them up, asking himself why, just why did I do this?

The guilt and shame aspect is also shown, when after having recounted his history with Akihiko to Mafuyu, Ugetsu leans his head on the steering wheel of his car remembering everything, clearly in grief, and thinking to himself: “Really... He is a good guy, isn’t he.” (Chapter 17). Here I want to indeed praise Akihiko and underline how well he dealt with Ugetsu’s dissociative episode. He didn’t freak out and lash out at Ugetsu, calling him crazy, but instead he tried to diffuse the situation, laughing and helping Ugetsu to pick up the pieces of the broken mug. As if to say, ‘it’s okay.’

Desperate efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment:  

One way of doing this is leaving the other person before they leave you, which is exactly what Ugetsu does or tries to do. He is terrified that Akihiko will leave him definitely one day, but at the same time he actively tries to make him leave: “I’m the lowest son of a bitch towards Akihiko and I guess he resents me, y’know... But I love him to death.” (Chapter 17)

“I’ve been pushing him away but he hasn’t given up on me at all. I’ve been trying to leave him every chance I get. But it seems like I’m still not good at doing that, so... I’ve always been waiting for him to let go of me.” (Chapter 17)

“What if he never came back, just like that? I’ve thought about it countless times. Yet, I’m still not able to imagine it. Tomorrow, he might come back all of a sudden? Or maybe he won’t? But, just the same, I want this suffering to end. But on second thought, I don’t really want that. All the stuff that’s in this room right now, the thought that everything might disappear... Will nothing... Not one thing remain?” (Chapter 27)

Distorted and unstable self-image or sense of self:  

It’s fair to say the core obstacle in his relationship with Akihiko. Ugetsu’s whole existence is ingrained irrevocably in music. It is what gives his life purpose and the outlet with which he deals with his too intense emotions. Which leads me to wonder what would happen if for some reason he lost music. And I am not positive he would survive that.

“After we graduated from high school—at the time, when I was actively performing as a musician... one day all of a sudden I realized, the existence of the other—was the one thing we both chased after the most in this world. As long as Akihiko is with me, I’ll be unable to become free with my music.” (Chapter 17)

Ugetsu felt as if he was losing himself and his music in his love for Akihiko, which brings to the unstable sense of self. This terrified him. Love is messy for everyone and anyone but with BPD emotions are plugged into an amplifier and dialled up to the maximum (“But for my heart to be touched like that”). He can’t deal with all of this and the fight-or-flight response is triggered and “Let’s end this already.” (Chapter 17)

Black-or-white thinking:  

People with BPD often struggle to see the complexity in people and situations and are unable to recognize that things are often not either perfect or horrible, but are something in between. This can lead to "splitting," which refers to an inability to maintain a cohesive set of beliefs about oneself and others. Ugetsu seems to be obsessed with perfection and probably to be a world-renowned violinist you need to be to a certain degree. But for example, when asked by Akihiko to come to the band’s first live, he replies with: “Is it at a level that you can show me? Ah... it’s not at a level where you can reply to me right away... then, I won’t come. There’s no point watching a performance if the performer doesn’t have the confidence to do it well.” (Chapter 8)

Ugetsu doesn’t exist in the in-betweens. There is pefection or worthlessness, love or hate, music or Akihiko.

Depression:

Ugetsu manifests many symptoms of depression.

He is either practicing the violin or sleeping. 

He seems to undereat. Almost in every panel in which they are at home, Akihiko worries about whether Ugetsu has eaten or not, and always offers to cook for him, implying that Ugetsu wouldn’t bother if left to his own devices.  

He is untidy and careless to some degree. At the violin concerto where Ugetsu is the soloist, Akihiko exclaims: “Again? That idiot... His hair is a mess.” (Chapter 15) implying that it isn’t the first time that Ugetsu appears somewhat shabby at a formal event, in which furthermore he is the star. This fact in particular surprised me because I had the impression that Ugetsu was vain.

This neglectfulness also reflects in his living space. Once Akihiko leaves, the house is in complete disarray. When Akihiko comes back to say he will move out, the debris of the glass Ugetsu smashed when Mafuyu visited are still there.

Last but not least, Ugetsu lives in a soundproofed basement in semidarkness, a fortress of solitude of sorts from the outside world.

Suicidal thoughts or threats:  

“Well, when I was a kid, I used to go to some unknown old man’s plantation on my own, and I enjoyed killing bugs by squishing them with my right hand, y’know... Then, on one clear sunny day, I happened to listen to some music playing on that old man’s radio. It was ‘In the flow of time’ by Paul Simon... Yet even though I was only a kid, I thought, wow... I want to die... It’s a good day, isn’t it? Well, there were other things too, but somehow, I wonder If I’ve basically been chasing that feeling of dying from back then...” (Chapter 21.5)

Well, this passage speaks for itself. In some capacity Ugetsu has been pondering on death, has been chasing it, since he was a small child. I think this can be linked to the BPD symptom of chronic feelings of emptiness.

Impulsive, self-destructive and sensation-seeking behaviours:  

In this category I think we can include the sleeping around in which Ugetsu engages. While not a harmful behaviour in itself, I think the motive is. Ugetsu has been systematically sleeping around for two years not because he actually wants to and it makes him feel good, but he does it to spite Akihiko and as a coping mechanism to try and get over him. This wouldn’t do good to anyone’s mental health and self-worth.

“Ugetsu and I fought all the time, even after we broke up. That... was because of his timing when it came to finding a new man... It was as though he was doing to spite me.” (Chapter 19)

Intense and highly changeable moods:

Simply, all of the above.

This is all for now. I will edit this list if future chapters will shed more light on the mind and heart of this character that I have come to care so deeply about.

[bobasheebaby]

In the End- Crimson Rain chapter 17

Pairing: Bastien x Liza; Liam x Raven

Word count: 2,310

Warnings: angst, character death, gun violence, grief

Summary: Emmaline’s put to rest.

A/N: I honestly don’t know if the pain is over yet. My muse is having too much fun with this. Thank you to @sirbeepsalot for being my sounding board. 

Series warnings: Mobster AU, there will be violence, and death. Possible NSFW to come. Possibly dark and deals with pregnancy loss. If you ask to be tagged you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age.

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist.

Disclaimer: I own my OC’s, the rest I’m simply borrowing from PB for a bit.

Twenty years ago; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania- Bastien/Olivia:

Olivia stood by the covered grave. Gone, they were both gone. She was all alone in a strange city with no one she knew. She looked up at the firm hand on her shoulder. Well almost. She knew one person. They were all she had left. All her family abandoned her, left her on her own. She kicked the dirt, not caring that her red patent leather shoe was now caked in damp earth.

Stupid parents dying. She wasn’t sure how, but she knew the news stories were full of shit. No Nevrakis would be taken down by a mugger. Stupid papers and their stupid lies. Stupid aunt who couldn’t be bothered to show up. She hadn’t seen her in nearly two years, she should have known she wouldn’t show now. Except now if her aunt didn’t want her she had no one.

Her small hands curled into fits by her sides. No one, she had no one. No one wanted her. She saw the stories about Liam’s mother, he still had a father who loved him, friends and family. She envied him.

“It’s time to go home.”

She looked up at him confused. She had a home, her parents took her from it. She moved to a new city but it wasn’t home. She had no family left, not who wanted her. “I don’t have a home, not anymore.”

“Sure you do.” Bastien dropped his head at her intensified confusion. “You’re going back with me.” He paused, how do you tell a six year old her aunt didn’t want her? “I’ve spoken to your aunt…”

“She didn’t want me, did she?”

He stared at her stunned by her behavior. He’d expected tears, but all he found was anger. “No.” He shook his head sadly.

“Okay. So I’m going to a home? Like the orphans?”

“No, you’re staying with me.”

“Why?”

He sighed. How did he tell her that he wasn’t sure what Constantine was capable of and if he’d try to come after her because of her parents?

“Will you tell me the truth?”

“What?”

“If I come with you, will you tell me what really happened to my parents?”

She’s too smart for her own good.

“I know they weren’t mugged. My dad was too skilled, my mom too.”

“What if I promise to tell you everything when you’re older?”

“And now?”

“Now, I’ll tell you they underestimated someone they shouldn’t have.”

She nodded. “My dad was going to teach me how to use knives, will you?”

“Of course.”

She looked up into his steely eyes. “Okay.”

Present day; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania:

Three days ago...

Liza gently brushed out Hope’s long chestnut locks, removing any tangles and knots before she applied the bleach. She hated the way Liam was treating her and would do anything to make her feel cared for and wanted in their lives. She still felt bad about excluding her from the wedding, even though Hope had assured her that she understood. She would do better for her,

starting now. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand, but I’m sure we can think of something we can do to help with the funeral even if Liam won’t include you.”

Hope drew her eyes down to her hands where they rested on her lap. “Why should I even bother?” She needed to get used to not mattering. She had been so loved and supported in the nursing home by the patients, nurses and doctors, she needed to learn to accept that Liam saw her as the enemy. She was what tore apart his family, he would never treat her the way a brother should.

“Hey, don’t talk like that. You matter, Liam is just an ass who doesn’t know any better because he grew up without her. Constantine poisoned his mind against Bastien.”

Hope nodded solemnly. “What could we even do? He already picked everything, the funeral home, the casket, she’s being buried in the family plot next to the man who is the reason she was locked away in her head all my life.”

Liza put down the brush. “We could do flowers, big, huge bouquets of flowers.”

Hope shook her head. “I wouldn’t even know what flowers she would like. I mean she said the lilies in the arrangements at the nursing home were pretty but were they her favorite flower?”

“Irises.”

Both women turned at his statement, taken by surprise to see Bastien standing in the doorway to the bathroom.

“Emmaline’s favorite flower was the Iris, though Constantine refused to let her have them for some reason.”

Liza smiled as a plan unfurled in her mind. “Perfect. We’ll get a large gravesite arrangement full of Irises to put in front of her headstone, a memory of you.” She squeezed Hope’s shoulder. “And a bigger fuck you to Constantine.”

One year ago; Trenton, New Jersey- Hope:

“Hope, why don’t you go out and have some fun?”

Hope looked up from her textbook, her steely eyes locking on her mother’s warm chestnut full of concern. “I’m fine right here mom.”

Her mother sighed. “You’re so young, your entire life shouldn’t be cooped up here with me.”

Hope gently covered her mother’s hand with her own. “Mom, I like spending time with you.”

“Just promise me when I die that you won’t bury me.”

Hope’s eyebrows knit together. “Mom, don’t talk like that.”

“Promise me, please. I don’t want to think about you always sitting in a cemetery to be close to me.” Her chestnut eyes pleaded. “Cremate me, buy a fancy urn and put me on a shelf if you have to, but I don’t want you to waste your life visiting my grave when you could be living.”

Hope swallowed nodding. Her mom was healthy, besides the memory loss, she wasn’t sure what brought this on, but she knew there was no use arguing. “I promise mom, no graves, no cemeteries, I promise.”

Present day; Trenton, New Jersey:

Funeral home...

Hope was filled with the overwhelming desire to leave. She didn’t want to be here, not today, not ever. This day wasn’t even supposed to happen this soon, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. This isn’t what she wanted. Everywhere she looked around the opulent funeral home it screamed mourning, but they were mourning a woman who was already long gone. Where was the mourning for the woman that struggled everyday for years to even remember that she had a child let alone her name? Why was Liam so intent on mourning the woman who had already been grieved instead of the woman who was lost?

Hope glanced around the crowded room, she didn’t recognize anyone present. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes landed on a large candid photograph that had been blown up. The picture was of her mother, but she didn’t resemble the woman she knew. The woman in the photograph looked happy and free. She had a large smile on her lips, her eyes crinkling at the sides in a way she’d never seen before. On her lap sat a young boy, looking up at her with a face full of wonder and joy. The picture instantly reminded her of everything she never got to have with her mother because one man couldn’t stand to lose.

This was a mistake. A huge gigantic mistake. She shook her head sadly as she turned to leave. This day wasn’t about the woman she knew, it wasn’t about her mother. Everything in this room screamed one thing, you don’t know her. She had always known deep down that she didn’t truly know the woman locked inside her own mind, but to see it displayed so clearly felt like a sucker punch to the gut. I shouldn’t have come here. This is for him, not her. A hand on her shoulder stilled her, she looked up meeting sparkling emeralds.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I shouldn’t be here Olivia. This isn’t about my mother, the woman I knew. This is about him and what he lost.”

“That may be so, but he doesn’t want you here.” She nodded to the front, Liam standing near the closed casket with his hands clenched at his sides, a scowl on his face.

Hope nodded. Staying would be claiming her right to be there, and piss him off in the process. She wouldn’t allow him to completely shut her out, this was her mother too.

Cemetery...

Hope slowly walked along the soaked pathway to the gravesite where she would forever be drawn. She gave a small half smile as Liza slipped her hand into hers. This was all still so new to her, she grew up in a strange family where the woman who raised her was her mother’s doctor and her mother was locked away.  She wasn’t used to having people who genuinely cared only for her, not the wellbeing of the patient as well. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to the feeling of the motherlike love that Liza offered her so easily. Even Olivia with her sternness was kind and caring in her own way. She had hoped when Liam claimed her mother she would have a sibling, yet he always treated her with cold disdain. She barged into Olivia’s home without warning and was given a much warmer welcome. She had come to believe she would do this on her own, until Liza had stepped into the nursing home and protected her like she’d known her all her life. She would remain forever grateful for Bastien and Liza, but how long would it last once she was no longer in danger?

Hope stopped, freezing in place as she spied the brilliant platinum blonde hair. What is she doing here? Her blood boiled. Liam took full control and yet the reason for today was walking towards her.

“What’s wrong Hope?” Liza questioned as she felt the younger woman start to shake.

“It’s her.”

“Oh Hope, I can’t tell you how sorry I am.” Madeline dabbed at her eyes with a lace trim handkerchief. “For Liam to allow you to be treated so…”

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Liza growled through clenched teeth. She released Hope’s hand, stepping forward, standing in front of Hope as a protective barrier. “I should fucking kill you right here!”

Madeline laughed, though her eyes belied her worry. “Who the hell are you?”

Liza stepped forward. “Your worst nightmare.”

“You can’t kill me here, you’ll get caught.”

“I’m not worried.”

Madeline straightened her back. “You should be, you clearly don’t know who I am.”

“I know you think you’re more important than you are. I know you clearly have no idea who I am. I promise you I’m way more powerful than you might think.”

Madeline rolled her eyes. Just another delusional soul, I can handle her easily. Her eyes went wide as Bastien and Olivia stepped up behind Liza and Hope. Who the hell is she?!

Liza smiled. “As you can see I’m far more connected than you are. But I have the backing of two families, while you’ve been thrown out of yours.” She lowered her voice so only Madeline could hear. “You take one step near my family today and I will end you no matter who may see.” Madeline blanched. “But make no mistake, mine will be the last face you see.”

*

Liam had been angered when he saw Hope at the funeral home. He had thought that shutting her out of the planning would be enough to show her she was neither needed or welcome. He didn’t need her spreading lies about his father, confusing his men.

Their trust in him had already been shaken when he’d allowed Liza to live after the failed hit. He was on even shakier ground with his men when the truth of who shot his mother and that she’d survived came out. If Hope even hinted that his father had anything to do with it he’d be done. He couldn’t lose his men, his empire. He wouldn’t allow the Rhys family and their control of New Jersey end with him. He wouldn’t permit her to unravel all that his family had built.

He was able to ignore Hope easily enough. The whispers that spread at Bastien’s presence made his blood boil. But the sight of the ever familiar platinum hair is what nearly sent him over the edge. How dare she show up here after killing my mother?! He moved to approach her, freezing as he watched Liza put her in her place. He hated how she had spoken to him at the nursing home, but she managed to put fear into Madeline’s eyes. How the hell did she do that?

A flash of brilliant blue against the grey headstone pulled him from the impending scene. That’s not what I ordered! He snatched the card from the large bouquet.

For my mother who I never really knew. You shall forever be missed and grieved, never forgotten. I am sorry I have failed in the one promise I made you.

Always the bright spot in your dark,

Hope

He crumpled the card in his fist, the rage boiling up. Raven placed her hand on his shoulder, “not here. If you don’t want them to question you must remain calm.” She didn’t agree with anything he’d done since his mother’s true passing, but she would always stand by him. She would never outwardly question him and make him look weak.

Pop

The rustle of wings and the call of startled birds broke through the stillness. They whirled around towards the direction of the disturbance. They watched as people scattered screaming in confusion. Only four moved calmly through the commotion. What the hell did they do now?!

Feedback fuels me, please like, comment reblog or send an ask. Feel free to scream, I promise I can take it.

Masterlist can be found in my bio.

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[dmitri-smerdyakov]

Protect Them - Part 4 (Wren) (FINAL PART) - a Newt/Tina fic

Tagging: @pinkdiamonddolphin

Here it is – the final chapter of “Protect Them”!

Set in September 1946.

Phoenix – 22nd June 1931 – 15 (5th Year at Hogwarts) Linnet – 13th January 1933 – 13 (3rd Year at Hogwarts) Leo – 3rd March 1935 – 11 (1st Year at Hogwarts) Wren – 5th May 1941 – 5

(Kowalski children:)

Tobias “Toby” – 15th October 1929 – 16 (nearly 17) (6th Year at Hogwarts) Daisy – 7th April 1931 – 15 and a half (5th Year at Hogwarts) Abel and Ruth (twins) – 20th November 1933 – 12 (nearly 13) (2nd Year at Hogwarts) Elijah “Eli” – 28th January 1939 – 7 (nearly 8) Lucy – 8th September 1941 – 5 Penny – 17th January 1943 – 3 (nearly 4)

(A/N: Penny is a child that Jacob and Queenie adopted – she’s got red hair and blue eyes, so that’s a heads-up!)

It hadn’t escaped Newt’s notice that his youngest daughter was extremely bored; with Leo now starting his first year at Hogwarts, it left Wren the only child still in the house. She had looked miserable when they had waved the others off on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters on the first of the month, tightly clutching Tina’s hand and voicing her wish to go to Hogwarts too; it would still be another six years until she was old enough, much to her disappointment.

At first, he had thought that perhaps allowing her to do more in the case would appease or at least distract her; for a short time she had looked cheered up by feeding the Mooncalves and Bowtruckles, but then a week passed and she returned to looking sullen. It was slightly off-putting, to the say the least, as she was usually so much brighter and alive.

Tina had seemed equally worried by their daughter’s melancholy behaviour. “Queenie suggested getting her a pet, but I don’t see how that will help…besides, there are enough creatures in this house as it is.”

“She’s not even enjoying being around the creatures anymore,” Newt sighed, shaking his head. “She really misses Leo…before, she could play with him, but now…”

There was a wet and rainy day a week later; while Tina had braved the storm to go to work, Newt had resigned himself to his case with Wren to check on his creatures. His daughter watched sadly as he tended to each of them, feeding them and making sure that they were content; she didn’t move when he gestured for her to come and help him, and so he ended up dropping the idea with sinking shoulders.

By the time all of the creatures were dealt with, it was lunchtime; Newt helped the five-year-old out of the case, making sure she didn’t slip on the steps, and then set about making some food for the two of them. Wren ate silently, keeping her eyes focused on her plate; it was slightly unnerving, if he was honest, for usually she was so bubbly and talkative.

She raised her eyes to meet his own, chewing slowly. “Don’t feel like talking…and what does ‘un-nerving’ mean?”

“Nothing,” Newt said quickly, forcing himself to smile. “I just miss your talking, that’s all.”

She watched out the window of the front as he cleaned up, chin on her hand as she studied the rain drops rolling down the window; she didn’t look his way when he entered the room or when he sat next to her on the sofa where she was kneeling.

“I like rain,” She announced thoughtfully. “It sounds pretty…but I don’t like it because it means that I can’t go and play. Is that strange, Daddy?”

“No, I don’t think so,” He assured her. “Well, I’ve done my jobs for the day – I shouldn’t need to feed the creatures until this evening now. Perhaps…Is there anything that you’d like to do?”

Wren shrugged. “Not really. I just want to play.”

Thankfully, Queenie decided to visit that day; she and the children were kept dry with a spell, and she beamed at him when she entered the house.

“Awful day, isn’t it?” She stated before pausing. “Is now a bad time?”

“Actually now is the perfect time,” He answered honestly. “I think Wren needs a playmate.”

“Missing her brothers and sister,” Queenie agreed, nodding in understanding. “Yeah, it’s no fun…Eli’s been all sad ‘cause he wants to go too; the girls ain’t as bad, but Eli knows and it’s getting him down.”

It didn’t take long for Wren’s spirits to lift when she and Eli started playing together; soon they were both laughing and giggling as they chased each other around the house, clearly happy. Lucy and Penny trailed behind, not quite able to keep up but having fun all the same. In the meantime, Newt made Queenie some coffee (she still thought that British coffee was worse, but she accepted it anyway) and himself a much-needed cup of tea before they sat down in the kitchen.

“I can’t believe Teen’s gone in today,” The blonde muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. “She’ll be stuck on deskwork – there ain’t no way they’re doing raids in this weather.”

“I know, but she insisted,” Newt said rather fondly; he wouldn’t have expected anything less from his wife. “How have things been with you?”

Queenie smiled. “We’re doing just fine; Jacob always misses the kids when they go back to school, misses having them visit the bakery…he’s gonna make some pastries to send up to the school soon, so that the kids don’t get too homesick… Not that Toby’s really a kid anymore.” Here she frowned, somewhat sadly. “He’s gonna be seventeen in October, you know.”

“He has grown rather fast,” He agreed, and he found himself thinking of his own children. “Phoenix is fifteen now; sometimes I forget how old he really is, and I’m surprised when he comes home for the holidays so tall...and Linnet isn’t a little girl anymore either.”

“I’m gonna be crying for weeks when Eli and Lucy both go off to school,” His sister-in-law remarked, and he didn’t doubt it. “I’m gonna miss having kids in the house. Me and Jacob, we keep thinking about adopting again…it would give Penny a brother or sister to grow up with, you know? A brother or sister who’s a No-Maj like her…and yes, I know you Brits call them muggles,” She added, rolling her eyes at his thoughts. “But No-Maj is a better term.”

Newt merely shook his head with a small grin, deciding it was best not to comment on cultural differences as he lifted his mug.

By the time four o’clock had rolled around, both Lucy and Penny were absolutely shattered; the younger of the girls had fallen asleep on Queenie’s lap in the kitchen, and her older sister didn’t look far behind as she rubbed her eyes.

“I should probably get them home,” Queenie mused fondly, running a hand through Penny’s red curls; her daughter stirred but didn’t wake. “I wonder where Eli got off to.”

“Here, I’ll go and fetch him,” Newt told her, standing up; she looked rather weighed down with two small girls leaning on her, unable to stand up just yet.

She smiled gratefully. “Thank you, honey.”

As it soon transpired, Eli and Wren were still playing together in the front room – and they’d made quite the mess of the furniture and cushions, much to his dismay: Tina was going to kill him if she knew he’d let the children destroy the front room.

“Alright, I think that’s enough fun for today,” He announced hurriedly. “Eli, I think your moth-”

“DADDY!” Wren was calling to him, beaming and giggling. “Catch me, Daddy! Catch me!”

Newt looked over at her – and his heart froze in his chest; she was standing on a chair, her short dark hair ruffled and sticking out in all directions. Suddenly he found himself thinking of an eerily similar image: it wasn’t Wren standing on a chair, but Tina, and he was no longer in the front room – he was in that bland white death cell, deep under the heart of MACUSA…and she was crying, terrified, thinking she was about to die…he had to catch her, and if he didn’t then it would be his fault-

“Daddy?” Wren was no longer smiling, looking confused. Eli had now stopped playing too, looking over with wide eyes. “What’s wrong? Why are you thinking about Mummy crying?”

“I’ll catch you,” He had told her, though he had been just as scared as she had. “I’ve got you, Tina.” And he had caught her, he forced himself to remember; he had caught her and held her close, and she was still very much alive…Tina was fine, she was absolutely fine, he didn’t need to panic…

Another image assaulted his mind quite suddenly: it was Wren standing on the chair in the Death Cells of MACUSA now, her face tear-stained and terrified as she pleaded for him to help her. The black potion was rising up around her, forming jaws ready to clamp down around her and burn her…she was screaming, he was supposed to protect her, she had trusted him…she was wailing and sobbing as the potion burnt her-

Wren clambered down from the chair and ran to him, tears in her eyes. “Daddy, stop! What’s wrong, Daddy?”

“I’ll get my Ma,” Eli decided, hurriedly leaving the room. “She’ll know what to do.”

“You’re scaring me, Daddy,” His daughter whimpered, clutching his arm; he hadn’t even realized he was shaking. “What’s that black stuff? Why are you thinking about it?”

“I’m fine,” Newt gasped, though he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “I’m fine.”

Wren frowned. “No, you’re not. You’re thinking about Mummy and you’re thinking about me, and I don’t like what you’re thinking; why was she on that chair?”

“She…” He could feel his chest start to tighten, and he cursed himself for losing composure over something so small; she’d just been standing on a chair, for Merlin’s sake, just playing and he’d lost his mind over it.

Tina’s fine…She’s fine, I caught her. Wren is fine, she’s right here. Stop it.

Queenie entered the room them, looking extremely worried as she walked towards him. “Newt, honey, it’s okay,” He heard her say calmingly, her soft hands cupping his face. “It’s okay.”

“What’s wrong with him, Auntie Queenie?” Wren asked, taking a few steps back; she looked terrified.

“Your Pa’s okay,” Queenie soothed her, though her eyes didn’t leave Newt. “He just needs a minute.”

“I’m fine,” He managed, pulling away from her as he finally – finally – found the strength to move. “I’m fine, really.”

The blonde sent him a look. “You ain’t fine…sit down a minute, alright? I’ll get you some tea.”

“But…But you said-”

“I can stay until Teen comes home,” Queenie said firmly, and it was obvious that she wasn’t going to budge on the matter. “It ain’t gonna be much longer ‘til she gets home anyway – come on, sit down.”

Newt grudgingly let her force him down on the sofa, his hands twitching; Wren sat down, keeping a distance between them, and watched him with wary eyes. He knew that he had scared her, and he found himself feeling awash with guilt because of it; she was only five, and he had subjected her to those thoughts – he still had nightmares about that day, Tina did too, and the last thing he wanted would be for their daughter to have them too now because of him.

After a moment, Wren hesitantly moved closer to him; she took his hand slowly and gave it a squeeze in her own tiny one. “I’m okay, Daddy,” She murmured quietly. “And Mummy’s okay too.”

“Yes, I know,” He muttered, and he found himself inexplicably glad that she had taken his hand. “I know.”

Tina arrived home shortly after five, looking rather tired and somewhat damp from the weather outside; she was surprised when Queenie was the first one to greet her, eyes soft and face concerned. She quietly told her sister a rather basic outline of what had transpired that afternoon before adding that it would be best if she spoke to Newt – he would probably benefit more from talking to her, after all.

“Wren can come over for dinner at our place tonight,” Queenie said tactfully, giving her sister a knowing look. “Give you and Newt some time to…to sort things out. I’ll talk to her, don’t worry.”

Wren had seemed rather puzzled as to why she was suddenly having dinner with the Kowalskis but didn’t argue; in fact, she seemed rather pleased to be going to their house – especially when her aunt mentioned that there’d be strudel for dessert. She waved goodbye to her parents happily as she left with Queenie and the other children, her voice clear and excitable as she chattered down the path.

Once she had gone, Tina placed a hand on her husband’s arm and took a deep breath; she smile she had put on had faded. “Newt…”

“Can we talk about this in the case?” Newt asked quickly, not meeting her eye. “I’d feel far more comfortable if we talked about it down there.”

It was a reasonable request – and she had expected nothing less really. “Yes, of course.”

The artificial light in the case was already starting to set, perhaps reflecting the autumn outside in the real world, and the two made to sit down to watch it on the grass near the Occamy nest. Surrounded by the chirping and grazing of their creatures, Newt relaxed visibly and looked down at the floor in thought; she didn’t push him, waiting instead for him to feel ready to speak.

Finally, after a good few minutes, he inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me today.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Tina muttered, and her hand was on his arm again. “It’s alright – just talk to me about it.”

He swallowed, shoulders drooping with defeat. “They were playing…Wren and Eli…Queenie, she wanted to get home so I said that I’d get Eli for her…I walked in and she was on a chair, just standing there and giggling – she saw me and asked me to…to catch her.” He closed his eyes. “She looks so much like you, Tina, that for a moment I forgot where I was…for a moment I was in that Death Cell with that death potion, and you were there panicking – you were about to die, and you needed me to catch you.”

“And you did catch me,” She reminded him softly. “You caught me and I’ve never forgotten it.”

“But what if I hadn’t?” Newt questioned, looking terrified by the prospect. “I used to have such awful dreams…what if Pickett hadn’t been in my pocket? Or if I hadn’t had the Swooping Evil in my sleeve?” He sighed heavily. “I know, it’s silly to dwell on the past… But there was a moment, Tina, where I looked at Wren and saw you instead – and then it was her. She was the one standing on the chair, and she was petrified…she was screaming for help…”

“That won’t be her,” His wife said firmly, though her face was nothing but understanding. “She’ll never be in that Death Cell, never.”

He looked away, down at his hands. “I know, I know, I’m being rather silly…but sometimes I wonder, Tina, if perhaps…perhaps I can’t protect her. She expects me to protect her, expects me to know what to do if things go wrong – I’m her father – but what if I can’t?”

Tina was silent for a moment, considering his words; when she spoke, her voice was quiet. “We won’t be able to protect them forever; children get hurt sometimes, and there’s nothing we can do about it.” She paused, shoulders drooping somewhat. “You’re not the only one who worries about her, Newt. She’s so much like Queenie – she has her spirit, and she’s so bubbly and bright… I know that she looks nothing like her, but sometimes I look at Wren and remember Queenie. I remember how I did my best to look after her, did my best to make sure that she was protected and safe…the world isn’t kind to orphans.”

Newt was stunned by this admission, but his mind was starting to understand just what she was talking about: somehow, they had managed to start and raise a family through two wars, wizarding and muggle, manging further to keep their family intact. However, there had always been the threat looming of what might happen to the children should anything happen to himself or Tina – neither of their occupations were risk-free by any stretch of the imagination, and the thought made a chill run down his spine.

“I used to look at her when she was a baby,” His wife continued carefully. “I used to look at her and wonder what would happen to her – to all of them – if either or both of us were hurt…or worse.”

“They’d have Queenie and Jacob,” He stated without hesitating – he was certain that this would be the case. “You and I both know that they’d make room for the children if need be, even with their own brood to concern themselves with.”

They both knew that this was the truth; Jacob and Queenie would never allow their nephews and nieces to suffer, would never let them starve or freeze – they would take in the Scamander children within a heartbeat, if the need did occur. It offered some slight comfort – not a great deal, but some.

After a few minutes of sitting side-by-side silently, Tina’s hand sought his own; Newt linked their fingers together, pressing their palms close. “We can’t protect them from everything,” He heard her tell him softly. “But I can promise you right now, Newt, that she won’t ever be in that awful Death Cell.”

“No,” He admitted, feeling more foolish than ever now. “I know…it’s not even here, it’s in America. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” She muttered, and she was resting her head on his shoulder. “We’ve both got our fair share of scars…not all of them are physical, but they’re still there.” She inhaled deeply, eyes gazing at the Fwooper nearby as it shook out its wings and shrieked. “We can’t pretend that dreadful things won’t happen…the world can be a terrible place. But we can make sure she knows she’s not alone in it – that none of them are alone; they’ve got us, and Jacob and Queenie, and each other to help them.”

Newt released the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding as he leaned into her. “Of course. Absolutely.” He hesitated for a few seconds, debating whether he needed to say it. “Thank you, Tina… If ever there’s been someone to put some sense into me, it’s you.”

“It goes both ways,” Tina murmured, squeezing his hand. “They’ll be okay: all four of them will. There’s no point in worrying – as you’d say, it only means you suffer twice.”

He couldn’t help the weak half-smile that turned his lips upwards; even now, he found himself thinking about how he really had gotten so incredibly, unbelievably lucky in marrying her.

It was just before midnight when the half-shut door slowly creaked to open all of the way; both Newt and Tina, sitting in the dim light of a lamp, both turned their gazes to see who or what had caused the door to open. To their surprise, Wren was standing in the doorway, looking rather unsure and cautious.

“You’re supposed to be in bed,” Tina muttered, though she wasn’t angry; their daughter had been exhausted upon returning from Jacob and Queenie’s that evening, and she had immediately gone straight to bed.

“I know,” Wren said quietly, tugging at the tie on her dressing gown – pink and a birthday gift from Queenie – as she lowered her head. “I…I couldn’t sleep. I could hear you talking…hear you thinking, and I wanted to ask you – both of you – about something, but…but I didn’t want to upset you.”

Newt frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t think you’d upset us in any way… Come on, come and sit with us, and we’ll see if we can answer whatever’s on your mind.”

Their daughter clambered up onto the bed to sit between them; she was silent for a short time, avoiding their gazes as she tried to decide on how best to voice her feelings. She knew that they wouldn’t be angry, but all the same…

“This afternoon,” She started uncertainly, struggling to find the words to express how she was feeling. “You were thinking about some stuff, Daddy; about Mummy, and this chair, and this black stuff.”

Newt was silent for a moment, shoulders sinking ever so slightly. “Yes, I was thinking about that. I’m sorry that you had to see something like that.”

“It was scary,” She muttered quietly. “You were scared, Daddy, when you thought about Mummy…I didn’t like it.” She paused, now looking to her mother worriedly. “You were crying, Mummy…you were going to be hurt. You…You were in trouble…the black stuff…”

She was starting to look rather distraught now, both by the conversation and by the thoughts she was talking about; Tina found herself wrapping an arm around Wren’s shoulders, holding her tight to herself. This conversation was bringing up frightening memories, but she knew she had to keep them away from her daughter – the last thing they needed was to upset her more. “Wren…”

“It was real, wasn’t it?” The five-year-old asked tearfully, though she already knew it was true. “It wasn’t a…a bad dream like the one I had about the monsters…it really happened.”

There was no point in lying: their daughter would know immediately. “Yes, that’s true,” Newt admitted. “It did happen, I’m afraid.”

“You nearly died, Mummy,” Wren sniffled, absolutely horrified as her fingers started to cling to her mother’s pyjama shirt. “You really nearly died!”

“Yes – but I didn’t die,” Tina reassured her hurriedly, giving her a tight squeeze. “I’m right here, remember? I’m still very much alive because your Daddy saved me; he caught me when I jumped, and I’m alive.”

“And it was a very long time ago,” Newt added, placing a hand on their daughter’s back; she raised her eyes to look at him. “It was before your mother and I even got married – long before you children were born, at any rate.”

For a moment their daughter just frowned, clearly still very unsure. “If it’s okay now, then why are you still thinking about it? It was years ago, so…so why did you think about it?”

“Well…” The Magizoologist hesitated: how to describe the idea of trauma to a five-year-old? “The thing is that sometimes, when awful things happen, it can be rather difficult to forget…they can stay in your mind for a very long time because they’re so strong.”

Wren was still looking somewhat confused, and so Tina cleared her throat to speak. “It’s like… You know how we went swimming at the beach last Summer?” Their daughter nodded. “And do you remember how you asked about the marks on me and Daddy?”

“They’re scars,” She recalled.

“Yeah, exactly. Well…it’s kinda like that,” Tina explained carefully. “Do you remember that we told you that they didn’t hurt anymore? They’ve healed, but they’ve left marks – scars – that can sometimes bother us.”

“Uh-huh,” Wren agreed, her eyebrows furrowing a tad. “So…do you have scars from that black stuff too?”

Her mother hesitated. “Not exactly. Sometimes things that hurt us don’t leave actual scars, not ones that you can see – sometimes bad stuff, like memories or events, can still leave something behind that hurts, even if you can’t see it. Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” The five-year-old said slowly. “It hurts but not on the outside – it’s on the inside…like when you’re angry or upset or scared?”

“Yes, exactly,” Newt acknowledged. “That’s why some memories are more painful than others – in fact, I’m sure you could say that certain memories are just like scars.” He paused before continuing, and when he spoke again he was quieter. “However, it doesn’t mean that they ruin things forever – not at all. You learn to accept it and it becomes less painful, and when it does then you go on with life.”

Wren started to nod, mind working hard to keep up – even being able to read his mind, she was struggling somewhat. “I think I understand. It was a scary thing that happened, so it’s something that hurts…but it hurt less after a while, and now you and Mummy are happy?”

“We’re very happy,” Tina assured her, and she was smiling softly. “As much as all of the bad experiences hurt, it’s nothing compared to the good things.”

The little girl suddenly started to beam as she caught a glimpse of the memories her mother was referring to. “You and Daddy getting married, and…and us being born! Those are nice!”

“Those are all wonderful things,” Newt agreed fondly, and he knew that she was looking through his thoughts too. “We wouldn’t trade those for anything in the world…you see, I think you’ll find, Wren, that the good in this world really does outweigh the bad.”

It was clear that she was relieved; sifting through her father’s thoughts, she could see that he was telling the truth. Knowing – not just hoping, but knowing – that the happy memories of family and love were far greater and stronger than any misfortune they had faced made her feel calmer. She found herself relaxing between them, finally feeling comforted.

With all of this in mind, Wren gave a small yawn and started to blink tiredly. “I don’t wanna go back to bed,” She confessed, somewhat sheepishly. “Can I…just for one night…stay with you?”

Her parents only had to share a look – the answer was immediately obvious.

“Alright,” Tina acquiesced, shuffling to make some room between herself and her husband. “Just for tonight.”

Once the lights were dimmed and all three of them were settled underneath the duvet comfortably, two small hands reached out, one for her mother’s own hand and one for her father’s. There was a silence in the air as she registered their ease, their love and affection for her, and she found herself feeling completely content as she closed her eyes.

It took just a few minutes before she had drifted off into a peaceful sleep; in the dark, Tina was sending her husband a rather tired smile. “See? She’ll be fine - she’s got us, no matter what happens.”

Newt couldn’t help but grin back at her before looking down at their daughter, nestled between them; she was curled towards him, her small fist barely touching his chest. “Yes…and we’ve got each other too.”

Urgh, sorry for the delay but my depression and stuff got a bit severe and shit happened so… :/ I was hoping to finish it sooner so that I could start a new fic but it looks like I won’t be posting anything until next week now because on Saturday night I’m going to take my dad to see Covenant, and then all-day Sunday I’m at Comic-Con.

But, yeah, I hope that you all enjoyed this or, you know, enjoyed it somewhat at least! Feedback, as always, is love!