Re: [ER: Newt & Patrick]
"It's all right, darling. Thank you." Newt smiled. That Patrick was saying this now, here, while his world was collapsing in on itself was fairly telling of the kind of person he was, and that person, by and large, was quite sweet. Newt could only shake his head a moment after he blushed, even as he recognized the teasing in the question. "No. Even less than the 'darling,' I'm afraid." Which was true. "You can call me 'babe,' darling," was his answer, overly sweet and entirely aware that Patrick, without the help of sedation, would do no such thing. Not for a while. He didn't bring up the 'my Newt' just now. After all, he had memories to suppress and wipe.
When he came back and Patrick was asleep, Newt came to his side with two bags in his hands. One was plastic: Patrick's personal items. The other, was the canvas Newt'd brought. He'd finished changing the records of Patrick's visit and call-in, the name given that of someone who didn't exist, and who everyone would be convinced had been here and had been transferred to the Capital, and who, the Capital would be convinced had been released after a brief evaluation. All communication was summarily altered, all minds summarily Obliviated, and his work was done. Newt slid into his coat, picked the bags up again, then, taking Patrick's hand in his, Disapparated them back to the homestead. More specifically, into his case. (He made certain he landed next to the cot, so Patrick was in it, and he was beside it.) All he did, once there, was remove Patrick's shoes and put him under the quilt. Then, he let him sleep. He'd tend to his creatures and make a bed for himself on the floor.
Tomorrow, he'd bring up the topic of finding someone in the Hall Way and what they would need to do about Adrian.