A/N: I was talking to a friend about future Newtina and. I realized yet another implication of the ending of COG. And I had to share the pain.

Tina didn't know how she got home. She just knew that she had to get there, had to get to her husband. So she found herself stepping into the case, all memory of the trip there clouded by the storm of emotions within her. She laid eyes on him, smiling as he smeared antibiotic cream onto a lightly injured yearling Graphorn, and it was like finding the eye of the storm. She found her voice, just for a moment, just long enough to call his name.

"Newt."

He turned on a dime, caught by the strain in her voice. "Tina?"

"I-"

Her voice broke.

Newt left the baby to trot back to her mother; Tina watched her go. His little sister ran to her side, investigating the treated cut with curious tentacles. Tina wrapped her arms tightly around herself, her hold on the calm slipping further away.

"What's wrong, Tina?" Newt asked, hurrying to clean the cream off his hands.

Tina opened her mouth, but all she could do was sob. A tear slid down her cheek, and she suddenly realized it wasn't the first.

Newt finally came, taking her hand into his, concerned eyes darting all across her face. "Talk to me," he whispered.

Tina shook her head, her bottom lip trembling as she fought another sob. This is ridiculous. This is supposed to be one of the best days of my life. Of our lives. "I should- I shouldn't be crying-"

"Hey."

Newt caught her chin, tilting her head up ever so gently to meet her eyes. And it steadied her, in a way, remembering this privilege of hers – to be the only one he would touch freely, absently, purposefully, of his own accord. When she saw his eyes, steady and unwavering as they never were with anyone else, she found the calm in the storm again.

"You're allowed to be sad," he reminded her gently. "Always."

She nodded, and for half a heartbeat, the joy within her pulled free from the storm. Will it have his eyes?

"Talk to me," he whispered again.

Tina looked down, down at their intertwined hands. Blinking away the tears, she pressed them against her stomach. "I'm… I'm pregnant, Newt."

She glanced up to see that his eyes had gone wide. He looked down, slowly spreading his fingers, pressing his palm against her. She slid her hand around to hold the back of his, letting him rest where Queenie should've been able to sense the life growing inside of her. Would've been able to sense it, had Grindelwald's lies not ensnared her, taking her far, far away from the birth of her niece or nephew.

Newt looked back up at her, and the soft smile that had grown on his face disappeared as he met her eyes, realizing why she could hardly speak. "She- she'll come home, Tina."

Tina didn't try to stop the next sob, or the ones that followed. She dropped her forehead on his shoulder, shaking. "Not soon enough," she rasped between desperate breaths. "Our- our elopement was one thing, Newt, we can have a proper wedding after the war, but- but this- she can't- we can't-"

Newt's free arm slid around her shoulders, pulling her in tight, and she reciprocated, clinging to him for dear life. "I know," he breathed. "I know."

Eventually, the storm would clear. Maybe in a few minutes. Or days. Or even a year.

Eventually, Tina would smile about this. Would embrace the future, embrace the child of the man she loved more than anything in the world.

Eventually, the sun would shine.

But for now, Tina let the rain pour down.

But for now, Newt just held her. "I've got you, Tina," he promised, over and over again. "I've got you."

But for now, they clung to each other, their only constants in a world at war.