Newt Scamander Preferences

When He Gives It All Up

A/N: Please listen to me. This is a really dark chapter. I didn't initially intend for it to be so but the more I wrote, the more it evolved. The message it contains is that no matter how dark things become, there is always a reason to live. A reason to remain breathing. But it does start with the darkness. It had to. The ending is the character's reason not to give up. I needed to type this message, as I didn't want anyone to be triggered. You don't deserve that. You deserve to be happy. Remember that. You matter. So please, don't read this if you are easily affected. You don't need that kind of negativity in your life. You don't. You deserve to tell someone what is wrong. You deserve to be listened to, understood and helped. You are truly amazing.

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It weighed heavily upon him, the tenebrosity- obsidan black and deathly cold. Oppressive.

Yet he refused embrace the light. The saving illumination that could restore such equilibrium to his life.

Within the contraining darkness, he found a comforting pain. Surprisingly addictive and undeniably dangerous.

Cerebrum, Cerebellum, Hypothalamus, Pituitary Gland, Parietal Lobe, Temporal Lobes- all infected with the idealism of a poetic death.

At worst, he would live and forever be plagued by his past crimes. At best...

Life but a mere string of sentences. Finally, he had run out of words.

Except that was not the case. They were the author. The novel not yet complete. Thump. Thump. Thump. The typewriter sounded, adding verse upon verse to his weary tale. His blood, it's ink.

The murkiness thinned from around him and paled into non-existence- his longing for the bissfull unaware intensified, to the point where he was sure it would burst forth from his ribcage, sending shrapnel in all directions. How many more would he hurt?

Then it came. The frightfully beautiful breath of life, which bloomed within him like a tainted peonie- it's petals marred with a disgusting tar. A dirt he himself could never wipe away.

The inevitable occured, the blinding radiance that filled his sight. It was agonising. So long he had resided within the dark and now, he had emerged into the reality he wished to escape. He had commited so many wrong doings. Too many.

But then he saw it, the celestial being. It stared at him, with a look of...fear? Hope? Relief? Surely he was too impure to be spied by such a perfect creature?

It's cheeks stained with bitterly sad tears. Rivers, as opposed to a single stream. Did it weep for his soul?

The angel whispered a desperate plea, which consisted of three simple words: "Don't leave me."

Could he accept the light? Even just to appease the angel's distressed mantra?

He gazed upon it's facial features, so flawless. The eyes, so wide and filled to the brim with imploration for him to remain in the land of consciousness.

The wording had changed to a slightly different variation of the prayer it had previously beseeched. "Stay with me."

It dawned upon him that this was his own personal angel. His companion. The one he had only recently pushed away. The one he should have kept close but failed to do so.

He recalled your final meeting. You had faced him, a look of terror on your face because of something he had said or did. It had been a moronic act on his behalf.

With a newfound resolve, he began to breathe with more effort, so to force the oxygen to inhabit his exhausted lungs.

To refuse the request such a heavenly entity would be such a severe crime, one that would truly blacken his name. Permanently.

He could not disappoint you again. Not this time.

He was going to live because you had willed it.