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Newt hadn’t prepared a cup of tea for his brother in years, but apparently it was the kind of thing you didn’t forget, like riding a broomstick. He went through the motions mechanically, letting the tea steep for three minutes before adding half a teaspoon of sugar and just a splash of milk to Theseus’ cup, and double the amount to his own. His concentration was scattered at best, so Newt carried both cups over to the table in his workshop and put them down with more care than strictly necessary.
“Here you go.”
Theseus looked as horrible as Newt felt; his skin appeared ashen, his face lined like he’d ages years during the span of a single night. It was hard to believe that just this morning Newt had still been playing hide and seek with his brother, trying to evade him at every turn, and now they were hiding away in his suitcase from a world that had gone to shambles.
“Thank you.” Theseus hadn’t spoken since they’d left the cemetery and his voice came out scratchy now, like he’d forgotten how to use it. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in here.”
Newt pulled a shoulder up in an awkward shrug. The irony that he’d brought Theseus into his suitcase when he was wounded and in need of care wasn’t lost on him, but he rather thought his brother wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment.
“I like what you’ve done with the place.”
Theseus’ smile was brittle around the corners, and it didn’t reach his eyes, but Newt still recognised it for the olive branch it was.
“Thank you. If...if you’d like, I can give you a tour later.” His brother had never been interested in Newt’s creatures, but judging by his nod and the complete absence of pulling a face, he might be grateful for the distraction.
Silence fell between them, and Newt shifted in his chair. He was so used to arguing, or trying to evade his brother’s questions, that the silence felt deep and uncomfortable. Newt raked his brains for something to say, but then Theseus snorted.
“Look at us, sitting here like a bag of miserable old sods. She’d have a right laugh about that.”
She would’ve too. Leta never had any patience for pity.
“Even she needed a break for tea sometime,” Newt said, winning the twitch of a smile from his brother. They both looked back down at their cups of tea, and Newt wondered when their relationship had lost it’s familiarity. When they were young, they’d been inseparable, plotting adventures and painting bright futures for themselves. Newt had followed Theseus with a sense of admiration that came naturally to most younger siblings, and his brother had taken to the role of the leader, and made it his business to look out for Newt. As they became older, Newt had started to mistake his brother’s care for meddling, an attempt to run his life when Newt wanted nothing more than to be free. In the pursuit of his own interests, and the rejection of Theseus’ lifestyle, he might’ve been rather uncharitable in his opinions.
“She loved you, you know?” Theseus’ voice broke through Newt’s musing and he looked away when he found his brother considering him over the rim of his teacup. “She really did.”
“Theseus-“
“No, I’m not saying she didn’t love me. I know she did. But you? You were her best friend, and that’s a pair of shoes I never managed to fill.”
Newt looked down into his teacup, as if he’d find relief there from the guilt pushing down on him. They’d drifted apart, but Leta had tried to repair the chasm between them while Newt had been content to ignore it, as he did most unpleasant things in life.
Before Newt could home up with anything remotely adequate to say, Theseus jerked in surprise.
“Oh, that’s just Herbert. He’s really quite harmless. You’ve met him before, remember?”
The niffler had plopped down into Theseus’ lap, and was now peering up at him.
“Right.” Theseus looked like a kelpie out of water as he regarded the niffler. Herbert held his gaze for a moment longer before he sniffed and started rummaging through his pouch. With a flourish he produced a silver coin and presented it to Theseus with a solemnly little squeak.
“I...” Theseus blinked and looked to Newt for help.
“It’s a gift,” Newt said as something in his chest squeezed together painfully. “He...he wants to cheer you up.” His throat felt all tight, so he quickly took another sip of tea.
“For me? That’s very...thank you.” Theseus patted Herbert’s head and took the coin, turning it thoughtfully between his fingers.
“They’re really very intelligent. They’re burrowing creatures and they have-“
“-a penchant for shiny things,” Theseus finished, flashing Newt a smile. “I did read your book, you know?”
And didn’t that add to the pool of emotions Newt was currently trying not to drown in? Theseus apparently thought Newt could take on a few more, as he continued while allowing Herbert to play with his cufflinks.
“I’ve never understood why you insist on thinking I don’t care. Because I do, though sometimes you make it damn hard.”
Newt opened his mouth, then closed it again. His insides were feeling scraped raw, and Theseus was sprinkling salt in his his wounds. But his brother was wounded too, and maybe it was time Newt stopped avoiding him.
“What...what did you think of it? My book, I mean. What did you think of it?” He looked cautiously at Theseus, and for a second his brother’s face was blank, like he’d expected something else, but then his lips curved into a soft smile.
“I thought it was brilliant. I always knew it was going to be.”
Newt nodded. He was rather certain the sudden warmth in his belly had nothing to do with the tea.
“You’ll recognise most of the creatures in here then-”
“Woah, I said I read it, not that I learnt it by heart.”
“-and I’ve had a few new additions too that I think you’ll like. We should start with the niffler babies. Yes, yes I think you’ll quite like them.” Newt had always found solace in his creatures, and it appeared that Theseus was willing to follow him down that path for once.
“You, uh, might want to leave your valuables here.”
Theseus looked himself down, before he shrugged, like the loss of some cufflinks and coins hardly mattered anymore.
***
Newt talked himself hoarse as they wandered through the suitcase, filling the silence between them with facts and stories of how he’d come by the creatures. They were all unusually well-behaved, sensing the mood of the two men and offering the comfort they could. And wasn’t that proof of everything Newt had tried to teach Wizarding society for years now?
They enlarged Newt’s little cot so it’d fit them both by unspoken agreement. Newt didn’t feel like dealing with the people upstairs, friends as they may be, and he didn’t feel like letting his brother out of his sight either.
As if reading his thoughts, Theseus pursed his lips as he looked at Newt. “I’m not one of your creatures needing nurturing, you know? Do not attempt to feed me breakfast in the morning.”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t dream of it,” Newt said as he toed off his shoes. He could, however, make Theseus another cup of tea, and maybe they’d have some croissants with it.
“By Merlin, how have you not ruined your back yet, sleeping in this thing?” Theseus muttered as he twisted and turned, until settling into a position on his side.
“I’m not as old as you,” Newt replied easily as he slid under the covers. They lay facing each other, like they had when they were still boys, and Newt felt some of the tension drain away from his shoulders.
“Do shut up, Newt. I’m trying to sleep.” There was no heat behind Theseus’ words, and Newt knew his brother well enough, even after all this time, to read between the lines.
“I’m glad you’re here too,” he mumbled as he pulled the blankets up higher over himself and felt Pickett settle in his hair.
Tomorrow they’d have to face the world, and the long and winding road ahead of them. For tonight, Newt was more than content to hide away in his little bubble, listening to his brother’s breathing in the dark and knowing he was here, and he was safe. Wherever she was, Leta was probably happy to see them reunited, and Newt smiled to himself as he imagined the things she’d have to say to them.