Fantastic Feats and Who May Hide Them - Fantastic Beasts fanfiction

The Boy Within

{Thank you for all the love, Tashie21!}

Only minutes later they led their various beasties back into Newt's case, some with more trepidation than others. Newt took command of the teapot, but Dougal the Demiguise had taken command of Celia's shoulders, so they decided just to leave him there. He at least followed quite willingly, and Newt directed her toward Dougal's cubbyhole while he tipped the Occamy into Tina's cautious hands, and led her to the Occamy nest.

Celia then picked up the crank full of powder and began sprinkling it over the plants she knew she hadn't gotten to last time, coat meticulously buttoned.

"Celia," Newt called a minute later, from his workroom. "Could you help me a minute?"

She set aside the crank and picked her way over the uneven ground and up the steps.

"Shut the door," he said, then still spoke only in undertones. He pointed at a number of things laid out on his worktable for her. "That cloth will help stop the bleeding and prevent infection again, that one would make a good bandage, then two drops of that on your tongue will stop the pain. If you want it. Then put this token in your pocket and when you squeeze it it'll remove all stains, so you don't have to wait for me." He glanced once at her, being as unobtrusive as possible, refusing to enforce his assistance. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

She grinned at him through the dampness in her eyes at his kindness. "If this is how you treat someone you barely know, then I can't imagine how much your creatures must love you."

The side of his mouth twitched up, even through the stress, and he left her to it, shutting the door behind him.

Celia sank onto the small chair by the ladder, untucked her sullied shirt and pressed the damp cloth against her wound with a hiss.

Thumping steps caused her to jump and she hastily dropped her shirt over the cloth, trying to wrap her coat around her before the door opened.

Queenie stepped inside and reached for the tea tin, then flinched when she noticed Celia, and her mouth dropped open. "Honey, are you all right? What happened?" She instantly sank onto her toes before her.

Celia quickly shook her head, voice still thick from the reopened tears and the sting of the disinfectant. "I'm fine."

"Celia, you're bleeding—"

"Queenie, I promise, I'm fine," Celia insisted, hands shaking from where she held her dark coat closed. She squeezed shut her eyes. "Newt is helping me take care of it. It's something I've had for a while, nothing for you to worry about, nothing that anybody else did."

Queenie rested her hands on Celia's knees, gazing up at her with sympathy. "Celia...." She bit her lip. "That scar on your arm—"

"Is even more nothing," Celia interrupted with a short laugh. "Some white man was chasing me on my way home one night—I was out later than I meant to be. I tripped going down an alley and fell down a stairwell, cut my arm up when I did. He didn't find me. I was all right."

"Some white man, huh?" Queenie said with the tiniest of smiles. "Makes me wonder how you let Newt in on your good side."

Celia rolled her eyes with a snort. "Hon, Newt backs in through one's good side by accident, then can't find his way out."

Queenie trilled a laugh. "Oh, that he most certainly does!" She sighed. "Well, if you're well-looked after, I guess I'll leave you to it. You take care of yourself, honey." She patted Celia's knee a last time and stood, spinning to leave. Her eye caught on a small, smiling photograph of a girl on the edge of a shelf, then she gently shut the door behind her.