Mercy

When a bomb exploded, soldiers didn't gawk and stare and try to predict where the next one would hit. They moved. Instinctively Jacob flung himself over Newt, covering his battered head as the shriek like the snow-imprisoned Obscurus amplified into a hurricane of ash and fangs. It filled the church, pinioning three feeble mortals, and struck with the speed of a viper and a locomotive's force.

"Jacob, no! Go!" Jacob heard Newt holler, before the implosion wrecked his hearing and he found himself flat on his back, gaping breathlessly as the steeple was shattered. The vortex whooshed to surround Grindelwald's captives, black winds drumming the floor. Bits of silver chain pelted the walls like gleaming bullets. Blue flurried as Newt was hurled to the ground. He jounced with a bone rattling thud and curled onto his side, gripping his broken arm. Seconds later Graves spun into a summersault and fell back onto his rear, gaping with the indignity of a teacher who had found a tack on his chair.

The hurricane took form, snarling in the stunned wizard's face, before it shrank into itself and evaporated, revealing a hunched, terrified Credence.

"You're the Obscurus," Graves said between gasps.

One reedy shoulder ducked, and Credence plucked at his tattered shoelaces. Groaning, Jacob picked himself up for the countless time in twenty-four hours and hobbled over to Newt.

"Hey. Hey," Jacob crooned, rolling the Brit onto the hip that hadn't been dislocated by New York's finest citizens. "Talk to me, Newt. Where're you hurting?"

With the wide-eyed fright of a fawn that was too tired to run any longer, Newt clutched his arm to his chest and shook his head. "Didn't damage me. Don't hurt him."

"Hurt him?" Graves said dryly.

Twitching violently, Credence garnered the courage to raise his eyes. "Are you going to kill me now?"

"Kill – no!" Jacob said incredulously. "No, nobody's gonna die, all right?"

Graves' jaw tightened. Exhaling ponderously, he asked, "Is that what I would have done if I was him?"

Credence flinched, mumbling, "I don't know."

Graves hummed a note, nodded, and rolled gracelessly to his feet. He limped over to Credence and held out his hand. "I'm not going to hurt you, Credence. ... It is Credence, isn't it?"

Warily the boy scrambled to his feet and shuffled backwards. Graves let him be, turning to help Jacob wrestle Newt to his feet.

"I got him," Jacob insisted, tugging the Brit's good arm over his shoulder.

"He's splinched," Graves warned just before Newt hissed. Quietly Graves uttered a curse. He glided between them and eased Newt's arm down, guiding Jacob's hands to support him under the armpit. Already lost to the world, Newt sank against Jacob in that kicked puppy manner that made him think Claude and suitcase and get the stupid kid back in bed where he belongs.

"We need to get out of this building," Graves said. "One of MACUSA's aurors will see him to a hospital."

"No way, no hospitals," Jacob objected. "They're already beaten him enough."

"A magic hospital," Graves enunciated, closing his eyes. "Never mind. I don't know how much influence Grindelwald has swayed in my absence. It'll be a pain to convince the aurors without my identification, never mind with a No-Maj and Theseus's brother in tow."

He glanced over to Credence and his eyes softened. "Whatever he did to you, please understand that it wasn't me at the time. I'm sorry."

Breath hitching, Credence kicked out one foot. Achingly the words were formed. "You're not…. You're different," he croaked.

Graves opened his mouth to say more and then jolted warily, flinching like a hawk before the eagle pounced. "We need to leave."

Taking his place on the other side of Newt, he led them to the mangled wall. Searching the alley, he waved for Credence to proceed and glanced ruefully at Jacob. "Next time, use the front door."

Credence tilted his head, scared and confused, yet still following a step behind. The kid was either brave or senseless – or he really was a wizard. Stupid knuckleheads never knew when to run.

"Do you know the area?" Graves asked softly.

Gnawing his lip, Credence dragged one shoe over the other. "I know a safe place."

Graves waited silently, and Jacob anticipated a serpent's strike. After a minute of Credence's quivering, the wizard merely nodded.

"I trust you, Credence."

"Credence!" Modesty shrieked and flung her arms around her brother, catching him before he could cross the threshold. Trembling, the girl buried her face in his jacket. "I thought you'd never come back."

The corner of Grave's mouth twitched as he slipped past them, squinting in the dim candlelight. Splintering furniture, broken windows, peeling wallpaper – there wasn't much to look at. Great and pompous auror that he was, he glanced over the dwelling with as much interest as the president would lavish over Jacob's apartment. He tilted his head at the soft cough in the corner and moved aside as Jacob guided a tottering Newt across the threshold.

"Who are they?" Modesty asked, staring at Newt's filthy blue coat. Her mouth dropped open. "Is that him? Is that the witch?"

"Wizard," Graves corrected from the darkest angle of the room. He looked over his shoulder, as though surprised that he had bothered to correct a No-Maj in the first place, and then bent to speak to the young invalid. "There's nothing to fear. I'm a doctor," he said, wrapping his hand gently around Chastity's wrist.

Modesty gripped her brother's arm. "Why is he here? He left Chastity in the gutter!"

"It wasn't him!" Credence hissed. "I'll explain later."

Shuffling past the two, Jacob lowered Newt into the only stable-looking chair and unbuttoned the Brit's coat. The left sleeve was mangled and caked with rust. Newt groaned as he tugged it free.

"Should've been stitched," Jacob said, tugging the Brit's shirt sleeve away from the mark. "Did the Grindel-guy fix this, too?"

The bleeding had stopped, and the gash didn't look as deep as it did when Jacob first saw it that night in the pouring rain, but it was still angry and swollen and definitely warranted a nasty scar.

"Not s'bad as it looks," Newt said, crooking his right arm across his ribs. "S'all superfluous."

"Uh-huh," Jacob said, raising both eyebrows as he pulled a kerchief out of his pocket and wrapped it around the wound. "Let me play doctor this round, huh?" Stupid kid really did think he was invincible.

"Do you need assistance?" Graves inquired.

Jacob looked over his shoulder, astonished to see Chastity sitting up against the headboard, lightly coughing but aware.

"She says you gave her medicine," Graves said. He uncorked the empty vial and sniffed it. "Where did you find this?"

"The kid's case," Jacob said automatically. "I mean Newt – it was in his suitcase." Along with brilliant, impossible creatures, the likes of whom might be starving without their caretaker. He felt Newt's flinch and knew the Brit was aware of the passage of time.

"Dougal's there, right?" Jacob reassured him. "He'll look after them."

"Where is this case?" Graves asked.

"Ran off – I mean, we lost it when Grindelwald found us," Jacob hastily amended. He rummaged in his pockets, digging out lint and crumbs and a five-pound note he'd forgotten about, and pulled out the second vial the Demiguise had pressed on him. "This any help?"

Taking the vial, Graves held it to the lamplight and then uncapped it, taking a measured swallow. "Skele-grow," he said, wincing as he tossed it back to Jacob. "Give him the rest. If nothing else, it'll help him stand."

Indeed, the wizard's voice seemed stronger, and the strain left his face as he set both feet comfortably on the floor.

"Skelgrow, huh?" Jacob muttered. "Guess it's what you needed, huh? Dougal always knows."

Newt crinkled his nose. "Hate it," he said fiercely, gagging after the first swallow. "Might be sick after this."

"No, he won't," Graves interjected calmly. "I'll escort you to MACUSA headquarters once he can walk. I know someone who can identify Grindelwald. We'll contact Mister Scamander's brother once we're inside."

Newt grimaced again.

"Brother?" Jacob said faintly.

"Theseus," Newt mumbled. He sounded less like he was dying and more like he wanted an early burial. "I was going to tell him after I left America."

"You were attacked by an impostor using my personage: that makes you my responsibility," Graves said. "I won't risk a war with Britain because somebody pummeled a war hero's kid brother."

I knew he had to be the little brother, Jacob thought. He chuckled as Newt swirled the dregs of the Skele-grow, his lower lip jutting out in a definite pout.

"Finish it," Graves said piteously.

Stubborn hazel eyes said 'make me'. Newt hunkered down, effectively hiding the slide of his wrist as he tucked the vial into Jacob's hand.

"You need it too," he murmured.

"Uh, not sure it would agree with me," Jacob argued, pushing it back against Newt's palm. "Come on – doctor's orders."

His concern earned him a sour-faced blanch.

"Where's your mother?" Graves asked Chastity. "Is there anyone looking after you?"

"Mother was arrested last week," Credence said, his voice catching as he rubbed his arm. "I can take care of my sisters."

"You're an Obscurus, Credence," Graves said. "You have uncontrolled magic. You've survived far beyond the expectancy for a child with your power, but until you can understand yourself you're only endangering them."

"He's not dangerous!" Modesty exclaimed, darting between the wizard and her brother. Small and frail, like a wistful dandelion challenging a coyote, she lifted her chin with the most obstinate expression that Jacob had seen since a bandaged Claude tried to retrieve his case. "He's our brother!"

Graves leaned back, arms folded loosely, appraising them both. "You already knew." Bending down, he looked into those fierce grey eyes and the corner of his mouth twitched again. "You're not afraid of anything, are you?"

"I can help you stop Grindelwald," Credence said haltingly. There was hope in his eyes; a longing to be useful.

Straightening, Graves shook his head. "No. It's too dangerous."

"I'm not afraid." The cringe vanished from Credence's shoulders as he insisted, "I can level buildings. He can't hurt me."

"Credence, hush!" Modesty exclaimed.

Raising one hand, Graves shook his head once more. "I won't be responsible for the death of a child. Stay here and protect your sisters. I'll return once Grindelwald is in custody."

Sulkily Credence looked away. As soon as Graves' back was turned he tugged his sister towards Chastity's bed.

"C'mon. They're not coming back," he whispered.

Jacob wet his lips, petrified by piercing grey eyes that stabbed between Grave's shoulders. "Hey, shouldn't we at least help – "

"There's a portkey to Theseus's office in my case," Newt said, his usual fumbling miraculously smoother as he pulled on his coat. "Only Dougal's probably got it now. No saying where he's off to."

Skele-grow, huh? Swishing the remnants of the dubiously oily sludge, Jacob shrugged and tipped it down his throat. He hacked, thumping a fist against his chest.

"It's not pumpkin juice," Newt said without apology.

Yup, Jacob had definitely preferred it when the kid was Claude. He didn't miss the bedpans, but he'd felt he had more purpose when he was looking after somebody. This crazy shenanigan of following a couple lofty wizards, who looked at him like he was the freak just because he couldn't understand what the heck was a 'portkey,' was exactly the reason why he'd hated the factory in the first place. People always talked down to you just 'cause you had the lamest job in America.

Well, this "Inferior No-Maj" had saved the great war hero Theseus Salamander's brother, Jacob thought pompously. He might be ignorant, but he wasn't an idiot.

"Who's Dougal?" Graves asked guardedly.

"Long story." Newt spun in an awkward circle, trying to wriggle his splinched arm into the flayed sleeve of his coat. Jacob watched for three turns until he sighed, set aside his grievances, and tugged the blue fabric gingerly around the Brit's shoulders. Drawing the flaps closed, Newt gave a brief, almost imperceptible nod, probably as close to a 'thank you' as his pride could manage.

"Anytime," Jacob mumbled.

"I know someone in MACUSA who would know Grindelwald by sight," Graves exclaimed, dark eyes gleaming as he clapped his hands together. "Or rather, by mind perhaps. Mister Scamander, it is my duty to bring you to MACUSA on the basis of a faulty wand permit – "

"We're talking about beating Grindelwald and now you're gonna arrest him?" Jacob interjected.

"And you," Graves said, pointing avidly in Jacob's direction, "Need to be obliviated."

"Obliviated?" Jacob echoed incredulously.

"As a No-Maj exposed to magic, you're a threat to the wizarding world," Graves said, pacing so avidly that the floorboards crackled. "Scamander initiated the contact, therefore he must be interrogated in order to comprehend how deeply he has collaborated with Grindelwald's plans."

"But Grindelwald's the bad guy!" Jacob argued. Was this version of Graves just as deceitful as the dark wizard himself?

"Therefore, it is my responsibility to bring you both to MACUSA headquarters," Graves announced conclusively. "Mister Scamander struggled, and I apprehended him. Hence the reason why I look like a horse-trodden scullery rag. No wand, no identification – we'll have to move quickly before they raise questions."

"They'll never let you in like that," Newt said, brushing a finger down his jaw indicatively.

"Mm, I wouldn't expect so," Graves intoned, irritably rubbing the scruff on his cheeks. "We'll be apparating him without a wand," he warned, inclining his head in Jacob's direction. "Could be messy."

"I have a wand!" Modesty piped in, eliciting an explosive squeak from her brother.

"Modesty, where did you get – "

"Oh, do hush, Credence!" Running to her drab coat, Modesty poked into the lining and drew out a thin reed, dowdy in its simplicity with strange markings in the paddle-shaped handle.

"Here!" she said, thrusting it at Jacob. "Promise that you'll come back for us. You won't lie," she added, wrinkling her nose in Graves' direction.

"I… uh… Of course," Jacob said, taking the wand cautiously and feeling a bit better when the point wasn't aimed at his chest. Uncertainly he handed it off. "Mister Graves?"

"Thank you, Modesty," the wizard said, accepting the wand and fingering it methodically. "And where would a young lady like yourself acquire this?"

"Not gonna tell," Modesty said, folding her arms pertly and tilting her chin.

"Can we talk about this?" Credence said sullenly.

"I will come back for you, Modesty," Graves said, crouching beside the girl and meeting her vengeful stare. He tapped the wand in his palm and vowed, "When I do, I'll teach you how to use this."

"Credence, too," Modesty demanded.

"Credence's magic will be different," Graves said ruefully, "But yes. Credence, too. And Chastity, if she has the gift."

Modesty tucked her arms in tighter. "Mother can't find us."

Quirking a thin smile, Graves reassured her, "Your mother will never come near you again."

He rose hastily and waved for Jacob and Newt to follow him to the door. "We'll have five minutes clemency inside the Wands Permit Office. Try to look properly accosted, Mister Scamander. And Jacob? Try not to behave like a tourist."

Just like that he was the "Ignorant No-Maj" again. But Newt was waiting for him outside the door like a scruffy puppy who wouldn't budge until he knew Jacob was coming, and the thought brought him some cheer. Besides, what kind of No-Maj had the opportunity to see the magical headquarters of America?

Magic supremacy aside, it had to be worth it.