Unlikely Companions

Chapter 17 Priced Possession

Mathilda took a long time to recover. Her injuries were extensive, and despite the fact that she had escaped death, she was still endangered.

Credence, worried as only he could feel, was reluctant to leave her side once he was able to enter the suitcase again. Thankfully, and after Queenie's intervention, they were able to move Mathilda into a bed in the Scamander house, which made her more accessible to everyone's care. Even Tina, with whom she still didn't get along too well, was seeing her regularly.

"I wish all of you would stop worrying so much over me," she said one day, twirling a piece of thread that had come undone from the blanket that covered her.

"Why?" Credence asked. "You are hurt."

"I'm feeling better," she said. "I swear it."

"I'll speak with Newt so we can let you walk around the house, if that's what you want."

"That's not what I want, Credence. I want to go out again, and find Grindelwald so we can put an end to this."

"I won't let you face him again. He almost killed you once, Mathilda."

And before she replied, he left the room. He wasn't willing to bargain with her life, again, despite of anything she could say.

---

Credence was angry, but still kept coming to her side. He sat quietly next to her, hoping that the right moment to talk would appear as if by magic. He wanted to make sure that she was fine. He needed to know if she didn't hate him. Because he knew that things had been tense between them, and he didn't know how to fix it.

"Credence?"

He looked up from the bowl in his hands, fixating his eyes on her. Mathilda was better, sitting at the edge of the bed where she spent most of her day. She had regained her color, and almost returned to normal. But she hadn't talked to him about that afternoon either.

"Yes?"

"I never apologized."

"For?" he said, getting nervous.

"For forcing you to take the money from my chamber in the bank."

Credence blinked, desperate to find the right words to fix everything between them.

"Mathilda, that's...."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I should have told you before, and asked you if you were okay with it."

"It doesn't matter now," he said, softly. "It's okay."

It was, he realized. He had been upset, and rightfully so, but after everything... it didn't matter. They were alive, and together.

She nodded softly, watching his carefully for a second, and began to swing her feet back and forth.

"If I hadn't," she continued, "maybe you wouldn't have been angry. If you hadn't been angry, you wouldn't have run away. And if you hadn't run away, he... Well, he would have never caught you."

"Yes, maybe," he agreed. "But how can you really be sure? For all we know, you could have found me in that bedroom that night. We could have talked about what happened and –"

"I brought you a gift," she said, cutting him off. "I mean, that night I got you something as a sign of peace. I thought it might make you less angry about the whole thing."

She produced, from under her covers, a small parcel. It was a small rectangle, covered in a rustic brown paper bag.

"Open it," she said, placing the package into his shocked hands.

"Mathilda, you shouldn't have..."

"It was something you wanted," she said. "And I was happy to get it for you."

He took the package with gentle hands, letting his fingertips graze its surface delicately. It was a book, he realized, by the weight and feel of it. Credence removed the paper, and gasped at the sight.

"Newt's book," he uttered, flipping the book in his hands. "This is Newt's book."

"I thought you'd like it, given how you said that you wanted it and Newt hadn't had time to give you a copy."

"Mathilda," he said. "This is perfect."

In a shocking moment, Credence took her in his arms and hugged her tightly. She was stiff for a second, but had soon found a way to be completely pressed against him.

"Are we okay?" she asked. "Can we still be friends?"

"It's all I'm asking you for," he said. "I don't want to lose you – I can't lose you."