Sweet dreams, Newt
The night air pricked Newt's skin as he traveled along the Nile. His case lay in front of him on the raft, his Bowtruckle, Picket atop it’s leather surface.
Soothingly, he dipped his paddle back and forth within the dark waters, guiding his raft along the dark river.
He blinked his sea green eyes to the starry sky that made the lantern at the head of his raft seem ever so small.
The lonely moon wonderingly watched as the magizoologist pushed his raft up onto the rocky shore. Picket climbed up onto Newt's arm as the wizard picked up his case; he screwed up his arm sleeve to stand at his shoulder. Newt looked down at the little green creature who chirped, both hearing the whale of the creature they had come to see.
“She’s ready.” said the scamander, curling his fingers around the handle of his precious case as he struggled up and through the bamboo woods.
The midnight wind whispered through the green leaves of the bamboo stocks, bushing up against Newt's cheeks and making Picket shiver at his side. The little creature climbed down into Newt's coat pocket, popping his head out the top as they moved up along the invisible trail to the mountains above.
Newt had always imagined building a safe house up in between to the two arches of mountains that conjoined into one magnificent circle. He had homes everywhere in the world—Dumbledore had even been kind enough to gift some to his assistance when he was indeed. He had fantasized about it for the past few months traveling up here to help nurse and feed the Qilin mother and its soon to come child. Very, soon to come child.
Breathlessly, he had made it as he climbed out of the wall of tree’s to see the fresh sky once more. A rumbling cry broke newt in his tracks. He stared wonderingly at the creature they lay in front of him. He crouched low, laying his hands on the hard scales of the mothers belly as it rose up and down. She let out a wheezing breath as Newt stroked her scales. She whaled once more, lifting her head up to the mountain arch above them.
Newt pushed up against the mothers back, grimacing with the weight in his hands. He ducked as the deer-like creature turned its body. Newt looked down to see what she had left behind: on the needley ground of crushed leaves and small twigs sat a gooey white oval. The moon's light filtered through the egg-shaped sack. Revealing to Newt the child inside.
The child inside shifted, curling and twisting around. Picket popped out of Newt's pocket, both watching in wonder as the sack split. The new born Qilin only stand for a single second before toppling over onto the slimy ground. He looked just like his mother thought Newt—thinking of his own mother and the gingery hair he had inherited from her.
The mother Qilin shook off her dizzy head, leaning down to her new born baby, licking the top of her son's head.
“Beautiful” said Newt, looking down at Picket. Newt shifted to his knees “all right you two.” he spoke, flipping open his case as the Qilin licked her baby. “Now the tricky bit.”
Picket stared amused at the drawings of him, Teddy and other creatures that Newt had so proudly drawn. He also observed the moving picture of Newt's love, Tina. Picket missed being tangled up in the woman's beautifully shiny black hair. He also missed her laugh as he had climbed up her head. He also knew Newt did as well.
Newt smiled, watching the two Qilin bound in front of him. He did not hear nor see the three figures creeping up behind him.
A flash of green light shot past him, engulfing the mother Qilin in emerald magic.
He looked up to see Grindelwalds right hand woman and another he could not place. No, no, no, no, no. His thoughts raced as fast as a dragon could fly. The raven haired woman shot the green curse once more.
Newt slid in front of the now fallen creature, firing a shielding spell to guard himself and the family.
Then a third figure stepped forward, his hair blacker than the woman's and face as pale as snow was white.
Credence. Newt thought as the boy stepped forward, bringing up a wand to his see through shield. He split his wand down the middle of it. Newt turned to see the newborn Qilin jump down from the rocks. He turned back to his enemies. “Acuo!” his case flew up into his arms.
Credence shot a spell as Newt jumped down into the lower woods; he felt a burning pain in his side and clenched his teeth, not realizing he was still falling. Unlike how a cat would, he did not land on his feet. He fell, tumbling to the slanted ground, his case fell further. He watched as he saw his case tumble end over end like a roly-poly down the earth.
He heard the humming chirp of the Qilin and spotted the baby in front of him, weak legs searching for where to step.
Swiftly and gently he took hold of the precious child, scooping him up into his arms. He ducked, sudden flames blew through the hard grass above and around him.
More and more came, spell after spell. He whistled, spotting his case on the ground beside him as he ran. Orange and black frog-like legs sprouted out from the case, scurrying along after Newt.
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted dark smoke traveling along beside him and the face of the curly haired woman at the head of it. She grinned an evil determined smile as she tried to snatch the baby from Newt's arms.
He hit her with a spell and she blew backward as Newt ran faster not knowing of the cliff that was ahead of them.
He turned back from the cliff's edge. He should have. He didn’t even have a chance to fire a spell as their own hit him. He fell back, feeling now ground at his back as his eyes rolled back into his head.
Picket screamed as he, the Qilin and Newt fell into the water like heavy rocks. The Bowtruckle screamed as he was pulled underwater. He hated water, water and Picket were a bad combo.
He floated to the surface once more, waves that would seem small to people like Newt were monstrous to a little guy like Picket as they crashed over his head, splitting one of his leaves, making him cry out once more against the music of the waterfalls around him.
Desperately he ran his stick limbs through the chilling water, climbing up onto a rock that stuck up out of the surface of the water like he would in Newt's pocket.
Newt. He rubbed his burning eyes, looking around at the vast pools of dark water that spilled over the side of the mountain.
Picket heard the desperate cries of the baby Qilin from the water and spotted the creature desperately trying to keep its head above water.
Then he saw him; newt had been washed up onto the flat rocks that hung over the edge where the waters fell. The wizard's case was at his side, it's Halloween colored legs hanging limply at its sides.
Swim, Picket. Swim. he had to reach him, get him to wake up. Most wizards would call Picket himself a strange monster, but the followers of the albino man were the real monster.
Picket plunged into the water, desperate and tirelessly waving his many limbs around. The further he went the more red the water got.
He reached the rocks, limping over to where Newt lay and climbing up onto his chest, holding his wounded arm with his unscathed fingers. He had not noticed that the rocks had torn open his skin until now and now it hurt. It really hurt. The only time he had hurt this much was when his brothers had pushed him down from his old tree and broken one of his legs. That was when he had met Newt, who had wrapped him up. Picket had never left his side since then and never planned to.
He slid down to Newt's side onto a rock that was not fully drowned in water, finding that his eyes were in fact open, but unfocused.
Picket squeaked, abandoning his injured arm to put a hand to the man's wet cheek. His gingery brown hair stuck to his freckled skin and it was then that the Bowtruckle noticed the cash in his right temple, bleeding down into his eyes and onto his neck. The blood that he had swam in couldn’t have been from that wound. He looked down at the wizard's legs, finding that one of his thighs was a mess of tissue and blood. Picket hated the sight of wounds, it made him scream—which he did. And after his scream came another.
He looked from Newt's wound to the water once more. Those monsters were back.
Picket turned back to Newt who tried to sit up,
The black-haired boy urgently picked up the young Qilin, dropping him into a sack and wandering off, but not before Picket could do a raspberry at them. He couldn't do anything else.
Picket crawled further up onto Newt's chest till he stood on his collarbone. He squeaked once, then twice and it was only the third time that Newt opened his eyes to see Picket soft eyes in front of him. He clenched his teeth, grimacing as he took Picket in his un-blooded hand, sitting up. Picket thought it to be just water at first, but found that it was tear that left the human eye as he pulled a knee up to his chest. Hugging his leg as he dug his face into it.
The night broke into lighter blue’s as Newt stretched back up the mountain's edge he had fallen from. Picket had lost count of how many times the Scamamnder had lost his footing, though he had shook off the throbbing in his head mere seconds after his fall. One step in front of the other. He told himself as he reached high ground, the sound of the waterfalls drowning out to a mere whisper below them.
Newt stopped in his tracks, his case feeling more heavy than a Thunderbird at his side. The mother Qilin lay in front of him, her rear turned toward him. Flies had already started to swarm her withering self. Before Newt could even realize it, he had collapsed against her, his case in between them.
The sky was now a blue-violet, the golden dawn peeking over the horizon.
“I’m so sorry…” said Newt, frowning frowning as his voice choked up “I’m so, so sorry.” he buried his face into her belly where a child had once been. Her mapley golden brown eyes were open, glittering with tears and unfocused on nothing but the ghosts in front of her.
He could feel the Qilins' breaths come shorter than the ones before. Her breath labored and her body began to feel as cold as the icy waters Newt had plunged into. He still wasn't warm.
A sound broke the grief-filled silence, a humming and then a chorus of clicks. With effort he lifted his head up. His eyes lifted as he found that beside him was a Qilin—identical to the one that Newt failed to save.
Her tired, wonder-filled brown eyes blinked up at him as she stepped her wobbly legs forward.
He shifted the child climbing up into his arms. Newt grimaced as she did, re-noticing the wound at his side. Picket dropped down the ground as the Qilin laid her head in Newt's arms.
“Twins,” said Newt as he wrapped his arms around her and even with all the pain he was in, he was warm again. “You had twins.”
Those innocent helpless eyes looked at Newt with the love any and every mother had for their child. I’ll look after her. Newt promised her without words and half of it was a command to himself.
The mother breathed in, a tear escaping her eyes as they widened, her pupils dilating. Then she breathed no more.
Newt pressed his lips together, pointing his face down into the now sleeping child's soft mane.
Newt breath clenched in his throat as pain slithered up from the wound at his leg. The wound at his side used blood and his temple throbbed with every wave of nausea that consumed him.
Picket moved across the ground, hollowing his chirps. With every last bit of strength he had left he reached down and flicked open the case's locks.
Teddy sniffed, looking down at Picket before looking up at Newt who smiled even though he did not want to smile. The Niffler knew what to do.
He scurried down to the shed below him and opened the rickety wooden door. He immediately laid eyes on the Wyvern slurping up fish on the rock that sat in the middle of his pond enclosure. Teddy nodded up to the case entrance.
Fluttering his wings and Buzzing by the Niffler like a fire-bee swarm as he flew up to the sky, Teddy stanching hold of the creatures long independent tail for a free ride.
The blue Wyvern landing, finding Newt had succumbed to a troubled darkness. Picket put his goggles over his eyes, preparing for the ride.
The Wyvern cooed, enlarging its throat as he fluttered upward to the morning sky.
Picket climbed up onto Newt's legs and into his coat, leaving Teddy behind for a smoother trip. He watched as the Wyvern grew bigger and bigger. He slithered his tail around Newt's body as Picket guided him upward. The end of his tail closed Teddy within the case, wrapping its basilisk-like tale around it as he rose higher into the sky.
Higher and higher they went, above the tree’s and the arch. Finally he breathed out his air, unfurling his wings for the newborn sun to see.
He flew off over rivers, forests and mountains. To London they flew.