A Broken Man with No Home
Request: Newt x Reader with a storyline where everything is going Extremely Bad. Desperate situations calls for desperate measures so Reader “takes the chance to sacrifice her own life to save everyone because she can only do it” cliche. Angst like a punch in the gut.
Word Count: 3,025
Pairing: Newt x Reader
“Dada, where are we going?”
Newt looks down at the little girl squirming in the train seat next to him. Her thumb’s lingering near her mouth, ready to pop back in the second she gets her answer, and a part of her hair’s sticking up.
Newt smiles halfheartedly and reaches over to tuck the errant hair into a butterfly clip. “We’re going to Bulgaria, honey.”
She frowns, the thin wrinkles hiding some of the freckles that dot her face. “Where’s that?”
“Where?” She persists. Newt almost laughs at the stubborn set of her small features. She’s a near copy in that aspect, an exact match.
“Do you remember when we went to see uncle Theseus? How far we traveled then?”
She nods, thumb now in her mouth as she watches Newt with patient eyes.
“It’s right next to there. Do you think you’ll make it?”
“Yes. Teddy and I are gonna be just fine.” She pauses, as though she’s thinking something over, then continues. “Thank you very much.”
“Someone’s been spending too much time with aunt Tina.”
“Auntie Tina likes me. She said she’d have a whole bunch of chocolate for me when she gets to see me again.”
“Yes, well, Aunt Tina spoils you too much.” Newt busies himself with the bag at his feet, digging through it for the box of crackers.
She kicks her feet. “She says she wouldn’t if you listened. She says you’re a bad listener, dada.”
He slows his search, the familiar anger he’s felt over the past few months stirring in his chest. “Does she, now?”
“Mmmhmmm.” She hums. Her summer green eyes are focused on the box Newt pulls out, and she completely misses the flash of annoyance her news earns.
He takes a deep breath as he shakes the crackers into his hand. It’d be best to ignore the comment. “Here, love, eat up. We’ll be on the train for a long time before we can leave.”
She grabs the crackers, her grubby fingers leaving streaks of saliva on Newt’s hand.
Newt wipes his hand on his blue jacket as more commuters lumber onto the train and shuffle past him. The train hisses, a bit of steam making its way in the door a few rows away. Newt’s surprised he can even hear it over the dull drone of the others, those who take the route daily speaking about politics and the recent construction started in London. Others, those who are new to the train like him, sit quietly, hands folded in their laps as they watch the crowds move past the window. Some squint at crossword puzzles, doing their best to make out the tiny clues in the dim light of the sunrise.
Newt’s nose wrinkles as a particularly strong cologne passes by. He quickly covers his daughter’s mouth when her nose wrinkles too and her mouth opens.
“Hush,” he murmurs. “We should be nice.”
He can hardly bring himself to say the words. Not after what he’s done the past few months, the things he’s said to Tina, the way he’s treated his brother. Hypocrite. Newt never expected such a description to fit him, but when Theseus shouted it in the middle of the family’s Christmas gathering, earning the attention of every aunt, uncle, and cousin he’s ever met, he’d been unable to argue the point.
“Dada,” she whispers against his palm, “why can’t we go home?”