Even now, he sometimes sees the other man in him. Credence doesn't need to finish the sentence for Graves to be aware of what he means, and the young man proves to be much more empathetic and perceptive than he lets on -- the observation of which sets Graves on edge, even if he displays none of it.

Credence is right, of course -- all that he's done is taken away, stolen by a dark wizard that Graves will give anything to execute if he ever sees him. It's a little more unpleasant when the focus is turned back on him, he prefers to set himself in the shadows, whatever he feels on the matter secondary to what he sets out to achieve. But then again, what is there to achieve in a place like this, save for a way out and back home, and forging a way forward for Credence?

The Obscurial is a threat, but he's not so much of one right now -- when he's only human, despite the extended lifespan, so very young still. He picks up on his nervousness, the innate compassion that Mary Lou hasn't actually managed to beat out of him, and he wonders just what kind of young man he would have grown up to be if his path hasn't crossed with hers.

Then again, these thoughts are foolish: here is where they are now, and here is Credence, hurt but healing and still thinking of someone else. There is a common bond now, strange and new -- the two of them who should have known better and yet, left with nothing in the wake of Grindelwald's destruction.

"I'll be fine." He says simply. What is he without his work, his purppose? He's still trying to find that out. "What did he promise you?"