[It isn't a thought that crosses Newt's mind. As far as he was concerned, he was perfectly content being alive, and the only thing that was testing that was the hard slam against the top of the case.

He throws both arms over it to keep it from falling out of his lap, freezing when he realized how dramatic that might have been. Surely leaning his head into his hand and offering a sheepish smile would dismiss it, right...? Right?] Toothbrush, paste, that... that sort of thing.

[The toothpaste sounded like a whining Fek. His smile faltered.] ... They're terribly unhappy with each other, you see. We can't... can't just up and leave without some sort of resolution.