It's only Tina's second time in the case, but her first without pressure to flee or threat to her life, and she considers it a welcome change.

She takes a seat on the narrow steps of Newt's workshop, brushing the seat clean before folding her hands neatly in her lap. Newt stands at a feed table a few paces away, looking slightly more tired and unkempt from his treatment at the hands of Grindelwald-as-Graves, but no worse for wear. He sorts a box of dried insects into two separate receptacles as Tina watches curiously, his movements steady and sure until he looks up at her suddenly, his eyes bright.

"What made you decide to become an auror?" he asks, the regular tink-tink-tink of carapaces against ceramic underlining his words. Tina fetches a deep breath and looks away, her hands twisting nervously when he tips his head to the side. "Sorry," he says shortly. "I realize it's not any of my business, I just—"

"My father was an auror," Tina manages, the words falling from her mouth like heavy stones, "and he was the bravest person I ever knew. After he and Ma died, I felt the best way I could honor him was to live up to his memory." Newt's restless hands fall still as he watches her, his gaze softening, and Tina focuses on his bowtie as her heart seems to quiver in her chest, adding, "I know that's not very glamorous but it's the truth."

Newt blinks before moistening his lips. "Your father — he's the one I saw you dancing with in the death potion, wasn't it? When you were a child."

Tina looks down at her fingers as her eyes prickle. "Yes," she says, clearing her throat roughly when her voices cracks. "What you saw was the last time we did...any of that."

"I'm sorry," Newt says softly after a moment. "I know that doesn't help much but it's true." His fingers twist awkwardly at his sides, and he looks down at his feet for a moment before pushing away from the table. Tina holds her breath when he deposits himself at her side, careful not to encroach on her personal space as he looks out over his little Eden, his eyes distant. She is acutely aware of the reality of him from this close, and she watches his scarred fingers, the line of his jaw and throat from the corner of her eyes until he turns to her, his hands curling into fists.

"My father was an auror, too," he says, "so naturally my brother, being the eldest, went on to follow in his footsteps. I...did not." He looks down to pick at his cuticles, and Tina watches his mouth open and close as he searches for the words. "I'm rather the family disappointment," he confesses quietly, "but I think if your father were here... Tina, I know he'd be very proud of you."

Tina turns her face away in shame when Newt gives voice to the niggling doubt she'd been entertaining since she'd turned her wand on Mary Lou Barebone. "You can't know that," she says, willing the tremor out of her voice while wiping her stinging eyes. "I think if he were here, he'd be disappointed in me."

Newt remains silent beside her. Tina stares into the empty habitat to their right, allowing her eyes to go unfocused as she relishes her bitter triumph. Something brushes her thumb, and she just manages to contain an instinctive start when she looks down to watch Newt's long fingers circle her wrist, his other hand pressing a neatly-folded handkerchief into her palm. His touch is warm and dry and it grounds her until she can risk looking up to find him watching her steadily, jaw flexing.

"You must think me a terrible fool," he says quietly, "but I do believe your father would be honored by your actions, Tina. You were brave and quick and true when it mattered, willing to give up something you sacrificed and worked so hard for to protect a child from a population that you've been raised to fear, all because you knew it was the right thing to do." He takes a shaky breath before going on, his gaze intent. "If that wouldn't make him proud then Tina, I can't possibly imagine anything else that would."

The dams and levees holding her emotions in check crumble at his kindness, allowing tears to stream over her cheeks, but Tina can't bring herself to feel embarrassed by the release of tension. Part of her expects Newt to put his arm around her, to make soothing sounds while patting her back; another expects him to recoil in disgust or dismay, to berate her for being an over-emotional female before putting his back to her.

Newt does neither of these things. Instead, he supports her as she weeps, allowing his capable shoulders to uphold the burden of her grief. The pinky of his left hand brushes the one on her right as she calms, her tears soaking into the foundations of the case after his handkerchief is saturated until artificial twilight descends and her sobs have quieted to the occasional sniffle.

Tina realizes that she's resting with her face pressed into his dense bicep, and she wonders if the faint throbbing beneath his skin is his heartbeat or just her imagination. She surreptitiously inhales the scent of animals, herbs and old parchment clinging to him before sighing and lifting her head, ignoring the fleeting pang of separation to find him watching her with his lips pressed into a firm line. "Alright there, Tina?"

She nods before scrubbing her hands over her cheeks and manages a weak-feeling smile. "I'm better than I've been in a long time," she tells him honestly. "I'm really sorry for, uh, crying all over you."

He laughs a little before quickly brushing his knuckles beneath his eyes. "Think nothing of it," Newt says hoarsely and stands to offer her a hand. "I'm led to believe that's what friends do for each other. I'll admit I haven't much experience with human friendship but I think I've got it right, don't I?"

Tina squeezes his fingers before letting him go to dust off her trousers. "I — I think so," she says, and smiles at him, her heart giving a delighted little thrill when his eyes fall to her lips before moving away.

Newt shoves his fist into his pocket before reaching for a bucket of feed. "Would you, um," he starts, glancing at her from beneath his eyelashes before showing a shy smile. "Would you like to help me with my creatures? I usually go through and feed them before bedding them down. It's not difficult but it can be time-consuming." His knuckles turn white around the handle of the bucket when he holds it out to her, his expression cautiously hopeful. "Perhaps you'll find it helps distract you. It usually works for me."

"Not all of us are magizoologists, Mr. Scamander," Tina teases gently and makes sure to brush his fingers with her own when she takes the bucket. "But I'd love to help. Just show me what to do."

He looks at her hand with wide eyes before ducking his head, a disbelieving smile tugging at his lips. "This way, then," he murmurs and reaches out as if to take her hand before redirecting at the last moment, a flush climbing over his cheeks. "You needn't worry, because you won't come to any harm down here. I promise."

"I'm not worried," she tells him breezily, ignoring the slight pang of guilt at the half-truth. Newt doesn't seem to notice, and he grins before taking up a few more pails, talking a mile a minute as he leads her deeper into the case.

Thanks, as always, to Kemara for beta-reading and general advice and encouragement. Come to say hi to me on Tumblr at katiehavok, if that's a thing you do.