“I’ll see you again.” (part 1)
Summary: A Credence Barebone imagine (Credence x reader)
~Our story starts off in mid November of 1926, just a few weeks before Newt and the gang meet and have their adventure. Credence meets you one morning and is in awe of you. You begin to see him around the city, and grow quite fond of him… One night you find him in an alley, sad and cold: what happens next is the start of something truly beautiful.
Note: This is my very first imagine so I hope you like and reblog it. There also will most likely be a grammar mistake so bare with me. Anyway… I hope you enjoy!
Date published: January 16, 2017
Warnings: mentions of abuse, sad Credence, and WAY too much cuteness to handle
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You walked out the door of your apartment building in a hurry. You were running late for work this morning. You worked at a small coffee shop a few blocks away. You were walking quickly, trying to put on your coat and gloves at the same time, when suddenly you collided with someone. You were taken aback as you rubbed your forehead. You looked up to see a tall, young man with black hair and dark, sad eyes that didn’t meet yours. He had been handing out flyers, but now they were flying around the sidewalk.
“I am so sorry!” you said, trying to grab as many flyers as you could. He was grabbing them too.
After you got as many as you could before the wind took them away, you handed them back to the boy. His shoulders were hunched over, as if trying to appear as small as he could. He held out his hand, to take the flyers from you, and you noticed something. Your eyes widened at the sight of his hands. They were red and bruised, with lashes and blisters. You looked up at his face, and he noticed right away that you had seen his palms. He quickly pulled the flyers from your grasp, and tried to hide his hands.
You looked up at his face again, trying to get him to look at you, but his eyes looked everywhere but yours.
“What happened?” you asked in a sad and quiet voice.
He made eye contact with you for just a second, then he opened his mouth, about to say something when suddenly,
“Credence!” A woman yelled behind you. You didn’t turn around, you couldn’t take your worried eyes of off him.
“My ma.” he said quietly.
You didn’t know if he was answering your question or if he was addressing the yelling woman behind you.
He moved his way around you; the way he did broke your heart. He walked very close to you, your shoulders softly brushing as if he was desperate for some sort of affection.
You turned you head slightly, watching him in the corner of your eye, as he disappeared from your sight. You didn’t know why you didn’t turn around, it was like he had you paralyzed, like your feet were melted into he cement.
You stood there for few seconds, then came back to reality. You remembered you were running late for work, and continued quickly walking to your destination.
You went into the coffee shop. “Hey, Y/N!” said Frank, your coworker.
“Hi.” you said, like you were in another world. You went to the back room and slipped on your apron, and started to work.
You had such a hard time concentrating. You couldn’t stop thinking about the boy… Credence. That was his name. It sounded so sweet and special, every time you said it in your mind, you couldn’t help but smile.
After a long day at work, you walked home. It was so cold outside you could hardly stand it the bitter wind against your face. You hoped Credence was somewhere warm. You jogged up the steps of your apartment, anticipating the warmth inside. After two flights of stairs, you were in front of your door. You unlocked it and went inside. Then you made yourself dinner, took a shower, and went straight to bed. You were exhausted, but you couldn’t sleep. The tall, dark boy surrounded you completely. You tossed and turned, then finally you woke up. It was one of those nights where you can’t remember ever falling asleep, so it feels like didn’t sleep at all.
You leisurely got out of bed, and made your way down the stairs to the kitchen to make yourself breakfast. After breakfast you got dressed and ready to head out for another long day at work. As you were walking to work you kept your eyes pealed for Credence. Nothing.
You reluctantly went into the coffee shop to start the day. Luckily, it was a very slow day, so you got off early. You decided to walk around the city, hoping to run into Credence.
You walked and walked searching for any sign of him, when suddenly you heard “Witches are among us!” You stopped in your tracks. You remembered the flyers Credence had been handing out. They spoke of witches and the evil lurking the city. You knew he was close.
You followed the sound of the woman passionately speaking. Then you saw a sparse group gathered around the stairs of the library. You walked a little closer to get a better look, and then you saw him. Hunched over like before, handing out flyers. He was wearing a black hat and no coat. It was one of the coldest days of the year, and all he was wearing was his suit jacket. You looked around and notice that his two sisters and mother were all wearing coats and gloves, but not Credence. You could feel anger bubbling inside of your chest.
You took a small step forward. Credence was handing a flyer to a tall, older man, when he noticed a girl standing on the edge of the sidewalk in front of him. He raised his head slowly. You saw his sad eyes light up just a little when he notice that the girl was you. You gave him a small, sweet smile and walk toward him slowly. You held out your hand for a flyer. He gave you one, a bit hesitantly.
“Thank you,” you said softly.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. But he never looked at you directly unless you weren’t looking at him. You looked at the flyer for just a second then looked back at him. He quickly looked away as if he was embarrassed.
“I’ll see you again, okay?” you said, looking deeply into his eyes. And you meant it too.
Every day after work and sometimes on your break, you would look for him. You would see him in the streets handing out flyers, or at his mother’s rallies. You eventually knew where the meetings where going to be held, and tried to show up to each one. Sometimes you didn’t even go up to him. You would stand in the distance, or across the street, just to check on him and make sure he was okay. You didn’t care about witches or wizards, you only cared about him, Credence.
You were a pretty shy, reserved person. You had just moved to New York earlier that year. You were very young, but you knew what you wanted for yourself. You didn’t have many friends and you kept to yourself most of the time, and you were starting to get a little lonely. Then Credence came into your life and things started to brighten up. But there was still something between you two. You didn’t know much about him and he knew almost nothing about you. The only times you saw each other was at the meetings, and you could barely talk because of his mother being around. So you wanted more. You wanted to invite him over for dinner, or to go out with you so you could have a proper conversation with him, and hopefully get him to open up to you. Which you knew wasn’t going to be easy, but you wanted to try.
One night, after work, you were walking home. It was dark, but the city lights illuminated the streets. You were walking along the sidewalks, thinking about getting home and being warm, when you heard something; it was a whimpering sound. It was kind of eerie at night with very few noises around you.
You stopped, trying to hear it again. And when you heard it again, it was a bit louder. It was coming from the alley. You were very cautious, but you poked your head into the narrow alleyway, trying to see what the sound was. You took a cautious step into the alley, when you saw a figure move, making you jump in fright. You leaned in to get a better look, and you saw a familiar, pale face. Credence. He had sad, worried eyes, but they weren’t the same sad eyes you had seen almost every day for the past few weeks. They were even sadder than you had ever seen them before.
You crouched down to where he was sitting. He coward deeper into the corner of the alley, behind a trash bin. You sighed softly, as your eyes filled with tears at the sight.
“Credence, it’s okay,” you said moving a little closer, “It’s me, Y/N.”
This time he didn’t cower away. His head slowly lifted from its place resting on his boney knees. You saw his eyes were red, and puffy from crying. You moved even closer and he moved his head back down on his knees. You asked him gently, “What happened?” as you placed your soft, cold hand on his knee. He raised his head again, and began to move his hands from where he kept them clenched in his lap. You watched as he slowly and carefully opened them to reveal bloody lashes from the act of his own belt. You gasped quietly from the awful sight. You held out your hand as if to ask permission to hold his beaten hands. He nodded and placed the backs of his hands in your palms.
You were so gentle Credence could hardly believe it. He could remember the last time someone had touched him gently. It was something he craved for daily, but never got till he met you.
You looked at him with a sad gaze. It was strange to be this close to him. You hadn’t seen him this close since you had first met. You stroked the backs of his hands softly with your thumb.
“Why, Credence? Why did she do this to you?” You finally asked the question that had been brewing in your mind for two weeks. He had never exactly told you that his mother was the one who inflicted these scars, but you knew. You could feel it in the way he looked at you and the way he acted when his mother was around.
“I-I was out too late,” he said so quietly you almost couldn’t hear him. His words broke your heart. You wanted to tell him the perfect words to make him feel better, but you couldn’t think of anything to say that could justify how he felt. Instead you said, “Do you trust me?”
He was caught off guard by this, but he faintly nodded, unsure of why he did trust you so much.
“Come on,” you whispered.
You stood up while helping him stand. He was almost limp. He felt and looked so weak. You put your arm around him, holding his waist.
With his arm around your neck, you slowly walked out of the alley, into the city again. You were thankful there weren’t many people out tonight. You walked the rest of the way in silence.
You got to the steps of your apartment twenty minutes later. You helped him up them slowly and carefully. Next, you walked up the two flights of stairs, now wishing you would have taken the apartment on the first floor when you moved to New York for this situation right now.
When you got to your door, you took your arm from around him and fished for the key in your bag. The whole time Credence was watching you with thoughts in his head like: “Why is she helping me? Stupid, worthless, broken me. She’s probably going to hurt me like everyone does.”
When the door opened, his thoughts let him go and he followed you inside.
You led him to a small couch and wrapped a blanket around him. Then you went to the fireplace, and quickly made a fire. The warmth as like heaven compared to this freezing outdoors he had just been in for over an hour. You left him in the fire-lit room for a few minutes. Later you returned with a tray that held a bowl of warm water, a few cloths, some bandages, and a mug of warm tea. You handed Credence the tea and placed the tray on the coffee table. He slowly sipped the tea as you wet the cloths with the warm water.
”Let me see your hand,” you said to him sweetly. He eyed you for a second, then took one hand from the mug and cautiously held it out in front of you. You held it like you did in the alley, gently. Making soft circler motions on the back of his hand, in hopes of subsiding the pain.
You slowly placed the rag on his palm. He winced in pain.
“I’m sorry.” you whispered to him as you rubbed the back of his hand even more.
You worked so diligently on his hands, being as careful as you could. He was trying his hardest not to react to the pain, and you could tell it hurt so badly. You were so concentrated on his hands, and he was so concentrated on you. No one ever took the time to take care of him or help him. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you the whole time. You acted like you didn’t notice, but you knew, and you were trying to keep from smiling.
After cleaning and wrapping his wounds, you moved to sit on the coffee table in front of him. Then you held his bandaged hands.
“I’m so sorry, Credence… you didn’t deserve this,” you said, looking straight into his eyes. He leaned forward and laid his head on your shoulder. You put your hand on the back of his neck, and leaned your head against his. As he started to cry, your vision became blurry with tears too. You put your other hand on his forearm and squeezed it gently. You both stayed like that for what felt like forever.
Credence felt something in the way you held him. He felt safe. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt safe. The way you touched him, it was so gentle, so kind. He just wanted time to stand still.
The clock on the mantle chimed 12 o'clock, and you crawled on the couch beside him. You and Credence— still holding each other tightly, fell asleep, content, safe, and happy to be in each others company.
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