Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Sonya! Are you done brushing your hair yet?!” Newt tapped his spoon rhythmically against the wooden table, glaring at the untouched plate across from him.

“Coming!” Sonya shouted from upstairs. The bathroom door slammed shut, followed by Sonya stumbling down the stairs, still brushing her hair.

“Sorry, I-” She tripped over the last step, but caught herself just in time. The girl looked up at her brother with an innocent look and a tiny, guilty smile.

Newt pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Just sit down already. We’re already running late. Again.”

She nodded and quickly sat at the table. She put her brush beside her before lunging into her food.

Newt didn’t sit. He just glared at her.  

“What?” She looked up at her brother. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t do any-” She stuck her fork into an egg. Then her eyes fell on the brush. “Oh, that’s your problem.”

She murmured a quick excuse and ran up the stairs.

Newt sat down impatiently.

It didn’t take longer than a few seconds for her to bolt back down the stairs.

“Don’t you dare start eating without me!” She shouted, throwing herself on her chair. The chair tilted. She tried to catch herself, her hand flying to the edge of the table. She fell over with a squeal.

Newt hung his head with another sigh. She did this every time.

Sonya stumbled back up like she wanted to erase what just happened from his brain. She placed the chair gently on the floor, as if she was afraid it’d fall over again, and sat correctly this time, turning back to eating.

“You didn’t pack your bag, did you?” Newt leaned back in his chair, smirking.

Sonya shook her head, not taking her eyes off her food. She started eating faster.

Suddenly, a loud sound echoed from the living room.

Both of them stopped eating. They turned towards the person walking out of the living room.

Newt glanced over to his sister. Her eyes were wide with horror at the sight of their father with a terrible hangover.

Newt stood up. His chair squeaked on the floor. He crossed to the other side of the table in three steps. “Go pack your bag and get ready. I’ll deal with this. Be fast.” He whispered to her, quietly enough that their father wouldn’t hear.

She just nodded, got up and hesitantly made her way to the stairs. On the first step, she glanced over her shoulder once more.

Newt gave her a reassuring smile that was more strained that it should’ve been.

Then she quickly disappeared up the stairs to her room, hurry audible in her the thuds of her feet.

Newt turned back to his father, staring at his hangover disappointedly.

“What do you want, you roach?” The man slurred. A knot tied in Newt’s stomach. “Where is the other bitch? I could swear that she was here just a moment ago. What was her name again? Sandra? Or was it-”

“She is sleeping” Newt lied with a cold tone. The sight of the man was sickening, and the boy had to suppress his gag reflex.

“Make me breakfast!” The man ordered, dropping into one of the chairs at the table.

Newt ignored it and started clearing the table. His father glared at him. The boy's hand subtly shook. He clenched his jaw.

The man reached for a glass, hurling it at the wall.

Newt paused, his breath catching in his throat and grip around the other dishes tightening.

“DID YOU NOT HEAR ME?! MAKE ME BREAKFAST!” His father slammed his hands onto the table.

The boy took a step back. If only there was justice. That alcohol would kill him already. Newt thought, and reluctantly heated the stove up again. He decided to go for eggs. Quick and easy.

While at the stove, two empty beer bottles went flying at his head. The first one missed, smashing against the wall twenty centimetres from him. Newt’s heart skipped a beat as the second bottle shattered on the cupboard just next to his head, leaving a stain on the cupboard. The sound of the bottle cracked the air. The boy’s eyes flicked over, and time seemed to slow for a moment. The shards fell into the pan and scattered across the floor like tiny, hateful diamonds. The smell of beer floated through the air disgustingly. He didn’t bother to take the shards out.

When he served the eggs covered in shards to the man, he didn’t even notice them and started eating right away. What a pig.

Moments later, Sonya came down the stairs. “Newt!” She shouted in a hurry. “We have 10 more minutes! And I can’t find the shirt that I wanted to wear!”

Newt rubbed his temples, but he still ran up the stairs with his sister.

Every second he didn’t find the shirt made his dread heighten.

But then he found it. And it was surprisingly familiar.

“Did you steal my shirt?” He asked sceptically, holding the shirt up.

She nodded happily, grabbing it from his hand, and then looked him up and down. “You haven’t change yet!” She said accusingly, gesturing at all of him.

Newt waved her off and walked towards his room. “Get your bike, you can still make it to school in time. There is no doubt that I’ll be late.” He told her.

Sonya nodded, grabbed her bag, and ran down the stairs again.

Newt silently stood frozen in place, waiting to hear the door.

And shortly after, a loud slam told the boy that she left the house. A sigh of relieve left his lips. He closed the door to his room silently.

He carelessly tossed some clothes from his closet onto his bed, and quickly got changed.

While he was getting his last finishing touches, someone knocked loudly against the door. His eyes went wide, and an unexplainable pressure pressed onto his chest. He grabbed one of his less favourite chains from the closet. Just in case his father decided to break the door down. He had to be able to protect himself, and he certainly couldn’t do that against a full-grown man.

The next five minutes dragged on painfully slow. Each second stretched further than the previous one.

But his father didn’t break down the door.

Newt tied the chain next to his other ones, just a little more loosely.

His fingers hovered over the doorknob. They twitched, hesitant to grab it. He tried shutting his mind down, and managed for just enough to open the door.

Newt ducked.

A fist flew to where his head had been a moment ago.

The punch hit the doorframe loudly.

Newt straightened and took a tiny step backwards into his room.

“You little whore. You tried to poison me.” His father spoke with unsettling calm. Though his voice carried a sharp edge that was missing when he was shouting earlier.

Actually, you were already doing that yourself with all that alcohol. But sure, I’m the bad guy.

Newt pushed past his father.

He bolted down the stairs, his hand brushing the wall to ground him. His heart was beating faster than it should’ve. Adrenaline pumped through his veins like a wire crawling under his skin. His limp slowed him. Each step taken on the foot ached. This wasn’t one of the good days. But he could still outrun his father.

The man flailed his arms around wildly as he chased his son. He screamed like it were his full-time job.

But Newt didn’t stop. He didn’t dare.

He ripped the door open so hard it slammed against the wall deafeningly. The hinges rattled.

Newt jumped on his bike the moment he got through the door.

His father followed suit.

He was in the door, holding the frame like he was about to fall over, still screaming and cussing.

Newt froze for but a moment. His heart hammered in his ears so hard he couldn’t hear his own thoughts.

But then he snapped out of it. He took a fast start, putting all his weight on the pedal.

He didn’t slow down.

His father’s screams distanced quickly, until they were entirely gone.

He stopped, leaning against the handlebar. He rested his forehead against the cold metal. Newt only now felt his heart pounding like crazy and breath heavy. He tried taking a deep breath in. It didn’t help much.

Then a thought crossed his mind. My… bloody bag.

Hesitantly, he slid back properly in the seat.

He turned around sharply, almost hitting the curb, and returned to his house. He knew he couldn’t possibly go through the door. His father would be in the living room, probably drinking his mind away. But he could probably sneak in.

He stopped at the side of the house, right under his window. He effortlessly swung his leg over the saddle and kicked the kickstand open.

Newt took a few steps back and locked his eyes on the window. He took a breath and stabilized his right leg in the ground. His hands flexed instinctively. He’ll catch you- Newt shook his head, ripping the thought out of his mind like you would an invasive plant from a garden. Except this garden had already long started wilting past repair.

Then he ran at the wall as quickly as he could.

His foot caught a tiny spot he could use to stabilise himself. He set his other foot higher up on the wall, using the momentum to push out of the gap and further up. His hand shot out. His fingers brushed the exterior windowsill. Then he grabbed on, holding so hard his knuckles turned white.

Newt pulled himself up with practiced ease, and slid the window open like second nature.

He landed on the floor with a quiet thud, not loud enough for his father to hear.

“I guess it’s good that I did parkour when I was younger.” He murmured with a soft smile, remembering the nice memories.

He grabbed the bag and hurled it out the window without second thought, throwing it in the soft green grass next to his bike.

Then he jumped out of the window, rolling upon landing. His heartrate had calmed from earlier, and breathing had steadied.

He tossed the bag over a shoulder before sliding his other arm in. A wide smile was spread on his face when he made his way to his school. He knew that he would make it out just fine, he always did, but he didn’t expect it to go that smoothly.

****************************

Newt ran through the empty hallways, panting. He clutched one of the straps of his backpack like an anchor. His nails dug into his palm like crescent moons. It was the third time that he was late to first period this week. And it was Wednesday.

The boy ran up the stairs to the last floor and down a few hallways. His shoelaces came undone. But he didn’t stop.

His eyes scanned the numbers of the rooms he passed to find his classroom. It was rare that he had class on the last floor. The numbers blurred into each other as he ran past them. He barely got a glimpse.

The thought of getting detention again made his stomach contort. He didn’t have time for that. Too many hours lost.

Then sound of clicking heels on the concrete floor echoed through the hall like a threat approaching and not even trying to hide. Because it didn’t need to hide. Those heels were familiar. Always the same rhythm.

Click. Tap. Click. Tap.

Newt’s eyes snapped forwards. A young teacher in a black pencil skirt approaching his direction. Her eyes were fixed on her clipboard, unbothered by everything else.

Newt’s fingers twitched and balled into a fist. He reluctantly forced himself to release it. He didn’t have time to stop running, class had already started 20 minutes ago.

His mind raced for a solution. The distance got shorter with every step. Newt’s heart hammered in his ears. The cold feeling of doubt and fear crawled up his mind like a spider bigger than him.

Time slowed for a moment, and a thought crossed his mind. To the side. Something in his mind whispered like a curse. Time snapped back into place.

He almost collided headfirst with the teacher. His left foot slipped as he pushed off to the side. His body tipped. In one swift move, Newt’s right foot slammed onto the ground, catching him and sending a feeling of static through his entire body. The sound echoed like a gun shot. But it wasn’t enough for him to catch his balance again. Newt’s left leg dragged behind, landing just behind himself as he stumbled. His back hit the locker next to him with a loud metallic clank. His head hit the metal, numbing his entire body for just a moment. The row of lockers rattled.

Newt groaned, weakly pushing off the locker and clutching his head. He glared at the locker like it had betrayed him.

The teacher’s head snapped up from the clipboard. She turned to where the sound came from. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of him. “Mr. Isaacs.” She observed fiercely.

Newt’s jaw clenched. “Yes, Ma’am?” He asked politely. He forced a smile, even though he wanted nothing more but to punch her and keep running.

“Get over here.” She commanded.

The boy rolled his eyes. He limped at her, barely dragging his right leg behind himself from the strain.

“Why are you running in the hallways? That is forbidden, in case you didn’t know that.” Her fingers tapped the clipboard in annoyment.

“I’m running late, Ma’am.” He responded, glancing at the clock hanging in the hallway. Great. Just bloody brilliant.

“Yes, I noticed that too, for a fact. Why are you late?” She asked, writing something down on the clipboard.

Oh, am I in therapy now, or what? Newt thought. “I overslept.” He lied coldly, rotating his ankle. He’d woken up at 5:40.

The teacher nodded without looking at him, and wrote something else down. She just stared at the clipboard for a moment. Newt glanced at the clock again, impatient. But then she waved him off, already turning her body away. “Don’t run in the hallways again, Mr. Isaacs.” She said monotone. 

Newt gave her a smile and a nod. They weren’t genuine.

The teacher only spared him one last, disdainful look, and turned away. The sound of her heels against the concrete filled the air once more.

Newt also went back to going down the hall. He looked back every few steps to see if she was finally gone. His eye twitched in pain each time he stepped on his right leg. His jaw was clenched tightly, supressing any wince that may’ve come out.

He glanced over his shoulder again. She turned a corner, out of sight and out of mind. Newt started running again.

He almost passed his classroom, but still stopped in front of it.

He exhaled deeply and adjusted his bag on his back. He ignored his heart racing. He hesitantly knocked on the door. This is so bloody degrading.

“I guess that that is Mr. Isaacs.” Newt could hear his teacher from inside the classroom.

Of course, this piece of sh-

The door swung open, revealing the young teacher wearing a smug smile. “Take a seat, Mr. Isaacs.” He gestured towards the classroom.

The boy muttered a ‘thank you’ and slipped into his seat, at the back of the class. A few girls were whispering and giggling, stealing glances at him.

Newt buried his face into his hands, trying to escape the feeling of being watched. It didn’t help. His hands slid from his face, up into his hair. He exhaled softly, like a silent whisper for help, and gently tugged at his own hair. But he still felt their eyes on him like knives obsessively pointed at his throat. Just not the good way.

Their giggles where the only thing Newt could hear anymore. They grew louder in his mind with every passing second. His grip tightened. Breaths got ragged. The room seemed to melt away. His grip tightened once more, so much that it hurt. But he didn’t let go. The girls’ giggling grew ear-deafening.

A hand gently placed itself onto his shoulder. Warm, grounding, enough to make the tension in his shoulders release. He recognised the touch. He always did. And he knew that Noah would never hurt him.

Newt’s grip on his own hair loosened, and reality bled back into existence.

He dropped his hands onto the table like they weighed him down, and glanced at Noah. His hand was still on Newt’s shoulder, eyes concerned and narrowed like he was trying to ask whether he was alright.

Newt gave a tiny nod, gaze falling to his own bag under the table. Noah reciprocated the nod and took his hand off, going back to lazily flipping a pencil that shouldn’t be that sharp, between his fingers.

The geography lesson went on like nothing happened, and like Newt wasn’t actively struggling to find his geography material.

“Mate, how do you manage to always come late to first period? At this point they should give you a reward for that.” Noah, whispered from next to him like the moment from before didn’t happen.

Newt also pretended that nothing happened. “Listen, I can’t take care of an entire house, a child and not get killed by an alcoholic, all while coming on time for school.” He whispered back, a little irritated as he pushed another folder around his bag.

Noah rolled his eyes, flicking the pencil into the air like it’s nothing.

Newt’s gaze flickered to the pencil before turning back to the bag and slapping a folder onto the table.

“You can survive Dylan and his minions, but you can’t come to lessons on time.” Noah observed, smirk audible in his voice.

Newt slapped a pad onto the table and pulled his chair at the table.

“That must be some kind of achievement! Like, did a hidden achievement appear over your head after the 100th time?” He giggled.

Newt slapped the back of his head.

That only made Noah laugh harder.

The blond groaned, turning to his non-existent notes. He tapped his pen against the table as his eyes flicked over the capitals of countries on the board.

He stopped reading half-way through and started writing them down mindlessly, lazily glancing up to read the next one.

Germany, Greece, Poland, Australia- Wait, AUSTRALIA?! I thought we were in Europe? Newt’s eyes wandered across the classroom quickly. Nobody else seemed taken off guard by Australia.

He looked back to the board and reread the countries.

Austria.

The boy mentally let himself get consumed by the floor. He fixed the mistake before he let himself ponder over it.

Just then, the teacher started talking again. Something about how capital cities get chosen.

But Newt wasn’t listening anymore. He rested his head on the table, exhausted.

“Newt?” Noah whispered to him, and he turned his head to face the overly excited boy, still leaving it on the table, not having the energy to raise it.

“What do you want this time?”

“Have you heard about tonight?”

Newt raised his head from the table and held it in his hand to listen better.

“I’m really excited, are you coming?” A smile spread across the boy’s face.

Guilt bubbled in Newt’s chest at the thought of having to tell him that he couldn’t go anywhere today, even though he didn’t even know what was happening.

“Hello?”

“Yea? Yea? You were saying?” The blond murmured sleepily, rubbing his eye.

“You comin’?”

Newt thought for a second. “What is happening tonight?” He eventually asked, gaining a look full of disbelieve from his friend.

“How did you not hear about the big party?!” He pointed at Newt with both his hands.

Newt just shrugged. “What is so bad that I didn’t hear about the party?”

“You’re basically- no, wait, you are the king of this school! Everyone would literally kill just to get your attention! They even have, you ignorant little shit!”

Newt shrugged again. He knew that a few of the kills at this hellish school happened to get his attention, but he found that they were boring. “Listen, if someone wants to get my attention with kills, they must at least be interesting. All those chicks forget that. Plus, only because I have the most bodies to my name, doesn’t mean that I find people who kill hot.”

Noah started making weird hand motions in disbelieve, like he was asking the gods for help to make Newt make sense. "How is this true?! How?!" Newt leaned back a little to not get hit.

After a good minute, Newt grabbed his friend’s hands and put them on the table. “Alright, that’s enough.”

Noah stared at him for a few seconds, but then he spoke up again, a deep frown on his face. “So, are you going to come?”

Newt sighed. “I can’t, I-”

The other boy interrupted him. “Why not? It’s going to be funnnnnnn!”

You oversized baby. “If you don’t interrupt me, I’ll tell you.” The boy immediately sat up straight and listened attentively. Newt rolled his eyes. “I’ll probably get detention today.”

“But-” Newt raised a finger to silence him.

“I have a lot of things to do. You, especially, should know that, Noah. You know how my family is. You know how my life is. Also, we have homework. I have no time for a party.”

Noah’s frown dropped into disappointment.

Newt’s eyes softened for a moment. He hated that look. He opened his mouth to reassure Noah something, anything that may make him feel a little better. But then his eyes lit up. Newt closed his mouth, burning sense of dread going up his back.

“I have a deal for you.” He announced proudly. Of bloody course you do. “If you kill someone today, you’ll go to the party. If you don’t, then you don’t have to go. Deal?” Noah extended his hand for Newt to shake, like he was trading for Newt’s soul.

He hesitantly took it.

There goes my sleep for tonight. Why did I accept this deal?

“Brilliant!”

“Mr. Evans! Would you like to share with the class what is so brilliant?” Their teacher demanded, eyes cold as he stared daggers at Noah.

Though Noah’s smug grin didn’t falter. He stood up.

Newt’s pulse spiked. He gripped his arm almost desperately, tight enough it would leave marks. “Noah, don’t you bloody dare.” His voice was like a cloaked dagger.

Noah cleared his throat, shaking Newt’s hand off just as he tried pulling him down. “I’d love to!”

The entire class shifted their attention towards Noah, most with bored expressions on their faces. Newt’s eyes darted over everyone’s faces in a hurry.

“I’m really happy to announce, that Newt will be coming to the party!!!” Noah announced, throwing a hand in the air.

People erupted in cheers and squeals.

“I DID NOT SAY THAT!” Newt shouted, trying to make himself heard. But his voice went down in the chaos.

His grip tightened around his pen like he was about to stab someone with it. His hand shook.

If you kill someone today, you’ll got to the party. Noah’s voice echoed in his mind like a cursed record player.

Newt’s fingers let their grip around the pen falter. And reluctantly, he tilted his hand. The pen fell flat on the table.

Newt slumped in his chair and hung his head over the back of his chair. He closed his eyes with a sigh. He tried shutting the noise from the others out.

Failed.

As much as he liked Noah, he hated him more than anything else in the moment.

Eventually, the chaos died down and the teacher, who had been sipping his tea watching all the chaos, continued teaching.

From time to time, Newt caught some girls a few rows further in the front staring at him and giggling when he caught them. Again.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with the girls in this school?” Newt whispered to Noah.

He just laughed.

“What?” The blond tilted his head slightly, his eyes flicking back to the girls’ table.

“Mate, the girls here are weird. But we don’t get to judge, so are we. I mean, you and Dylan are in a constant competition for the first place.”

Okay, that makes sense. Newt thought, turning back to his paper.

He rested his head on his fist, scanning the paper. But he couldn’t focus.

He blurred his vision, eyes still stinging with exhaustion. It took some of the pain away. It almost felt resting. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his body relaxing with a warm never lent here. His grip on the pen loosened. It rolled off his fingers gently, like it didn’t want to wake him. His lashes crossed into his vision. They twitched up, but not enough to keep him awake.

“Alright, children, see you all next week. Or well, the ones of you that are still alive by then. Mr. Isaacs, could I speak to you before you go to the next period?”

Newt jumped, but nodded quickly.

After the entire class left, Newt was the last one.

“You wanted to speak to me, Sir?” He asked politely, bag hanging lazily off his shoulder.

“Yes, Newton, I wanted to speak to you.” The teacher put some papers on his desk and sat on his desk, leaning forward on his knees and folding his hands. He looked the boy up and down like he was a puzzle. “What is going on, Newton?”

Newt’s heart skipped a beat.

“You always come late. You’re always tired in my lessons. And your homework is rarely correct, if even done.” The teacher paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. “You are one of my best students, but I can’t help but notice this pattern. And somehow, your test results are still impeccable.”

The boy’s gaze wandered to the floor, guilt bubbling in his chest. He answered quietly. “I study a lot, but I don’t really get sleep, and oversleep often.”

The teacher raised an eyebrow sceptically. “You don’t do any extracurricular activity. Maybe that would help you get your life together. You’re amazing at sports, you should try track, it suites you.” The teacher suggested.

Newt shook his head in disapproval, eyes catching on his right leg before looking back up from the floor. “I’m really sorry, Sir, but I really don’t have time for anything. I don’t even want to go to the party, Noah forced me.”

The man nodded and dismissed him, but not before he got detention.

The boy ran through the hallways again. The talk with his teacher made him late again.

The door to the classroom was closed when he got there. He burst through it like a hurricane. It smashed against the wall so hard the hinges shook.

Newt’s face lit up. The teacher wasn’t there yet, and the class was loud as ever.

He swiftly got to his place, ignoring the looks from his classmates.

He tossed his bag under the table. “I hate being popular.” He told Noah with a sigh.

“Everyone dreams to be as popular as you are. That’s why they all want to hook up with you.” Noah responded smugly, giving him a little, playful nudge.

Newt ignored it. “Why did I make myself known again?”

“You didn’t, I did.”

“Oh, right, fuck you for that.” Newt slapped the back of Noah’s head again.

Noah burst out laughing again.

“Bloody dang it, Noah!”

Then, out of nowhere, a teacher entered the room. It wasn’t their Physics teacher. The class fell silent.

“Alright you brats, your Physics teacher called in sick and I’m your substitute. I’m going to take attendance and you’re going to shout ‘here’ when you hear your name, got it?” The substitute said coldly, whipping his phone out.

He started calling names monotone. It went by quickly.

And before they realised it, Noah’s name was called. He didn’t answer.

Newt glanced over, only to find he was too busy talking to a girl next to him.

What would this idiot do without me? Newt elbowed him in the ribs hard enough to make him jump up.

“OW!”

“Mr. Evans, I said you were supposed to say ‘here’, but I guess that works too.” The teacher said monotone and continued calling names.

Noah shot the blond a glare.

Newt glared back.

Noah’s look faltered, and he pressed his lips into a thin line.

Then he burst out laughing.

Newt blinked confusedly. What’s so funny? He shrugged, turning his attention back to the front of the class.

“Dylan Everwood?” The teacher called.

No answer.

Dylan had been missing the entire day. Newt grinned like a Cheshire cat. He had no idea where Dylan was, but he was glad that he wasn’t there.

“Isaac Newton?”

The class was silent. Except for Noah, he was giggling.

“Isaac Newton.” The teacher repeated, Newt rolled his eyes.

I should really be used to this by now. “Sir, I think you mean me.” He raised his hand, doing his best to hide his annoyance. “And it’s Newton Isaacs, not Isaac Newton. I’m no famous scientist.”

The teacher just nodded and waved him off, looking bored out of his mind. “Sure, whatever you mean, Newton.” The boy groaned. “Just do your homework for some other classes or something, I don’t care.” The substitute muttered, slumping in the chair at the teacher’s desk like he owned it.

For the next 55 minutes, he went on his phone, volume all the way up.

Newt and Noah exchanged amused glances, but didn’t say anything.

At the end of the 55 minutes, he raised his voice authoritatively. “Alright you brats! I don’t have the nerves to deal with any of you any longer. Go. You’re all dismissed.” And with that he left the room.

It was silent for a moment. People exchanged looks of confusion.

But then they all silently packed their bags and left the room, everyone still seemingly confused about what just happened.

“You can tell that this guy is new.” Newt stuffed his book in his bag.

Noah shrugged, adjusting his too-heavy bag on his shoulder. “Well, it’s good, I guess. At least we got a free period for once.”

“Lets just hope he doesn’t get a heart attack the first time he sees someone bleeding out.”

“Well-” Noah cut himself off and pointed at Newt with his hands. “Would you move already?! I’m gonna miss that girl I was talking to earlier! How are you so bloody slow?!”

The blond groaned and rolled his eyes. “Shut up and just go if you’re gonna be a twat about it,”

“Alright, then. See you ‘round!” Noah spoke progressively louder as he approached the door. “Don’t forget our deal, you cheeky bastard!” He shouted just before disappearing through the door.

“You won’t get the pleasure!” Newt shouted back, zipping his bag shut.

Once he was through the door, his eyes fell on the stairs.

He wanted to surprise his sister. They weren’t supposed to have break at the same time.

He quickly went down, skipping the last three steps of one flight of stairs.

His heart beat a bit faster in his chest as he approached the second flight of stairs. A stupid idea crossed his mind. What if I cleared it?

He took a few steps back, already preparing for the jump. His hands balled to fists. His gaze fixed on the last step.

But then, from the corner of his eye, he saw Sonya and her friend, Harriet. They stood at the edge of the other flight of stairs, staring down at something.

Newt’s eyes widened with a mischievous twinkle, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

He approached silently. Each step was calculated. Each breath was just loud enough to go unnoticed. The closer he got, the clearer the shaking got.

He stopped right behind them, looking over their shoulders at the bottom of the stairs.

There was a girl. But unlike he’d have expected from them.

She was bleeding from where her bone stuck out of her arm. Her neck was snapped at an unnatural angle. Her eyes were hollow, and yet wide with fear and horrified realisation. Blood slowly flowed down her forehead from her head. It dripped from her ear like a last letter. A crimson river flowed from her lifeless body, down the next flight of stairs. The smell of fear and death hung in the air like a curse. But it tasted like a lullaby in Newt’s mind.

“Well, isn’t that unfortunate?” He laughed as if this were the best joke he’d heard all day, eyes still fixed on the body.

The girls both flinched, spinning around to face him. Sonya’s eyes were glassy, and Harriet’s mouth was slightly agape.

“NEWT!” Sonya called out and threw herself at him.

Newt froze for a moment, but then hugged her back.

“How did you get out of class this early?” Sonya pulled away.

Newt found the question pretty stupid, it was obvious, but he still smiled at her. He wrapped an arm around her and Harriet’s shoulders, making them start walking down the stairs. “Well, you see,” Newt started explaining.

He threw a quick glance at the dead girl as they passed her. Poor janitor. He stepped over her like she was trash, making sure not to step in the puddle of blood.

Newt led them towards the cafeteria.

“So he just let you all go?” Harriet arched a brow. “That’s kinda stupid.”

Sonya ducked under Newt’s arm and got out of his grip. “Leave him, he’s probably new.”

The boy raised his arm over Harriet’s head and let it carelessly fall at his side. He shrugged, not even glancing at the boy shouting for help while being dragged off by two older guys. “Who cares? The guy will probably get fired regardless now.”

They walked into the cafeteria. It was decently empty, only a few tables being occupied.

They slipped at a table at the back, not wanting to deal with anyone.

The small talk continued, until Harriet spoke up. “Sooo,” She started, the boy looked at her curiously. “I have to say, your reputation is really starting to rub off on Sonya.”

Newt threw an amused look to his sister. My reputation?

“Today...” She drawled dramatically. “I found out that she can stand up to bullies!” Harriet seemed thrilled, throwing a victorious fist into the air.

Newt threw a sharp glance at Sonya. She had a shy smile on her face, her eyes glinting with glee. His gaze wandered back to Harriet.

He snorted humourlessly. “Bullies you say?” A sadistic smile spread on his face. He didn’t want to go to the party. But he was ready to make that sacrifice for his sister.

Sonya quickly intervened, waving a hand in his face and speaking quickly. “No, no, no. They didn’t bully me. They pushed Harriet on the floor, and I intervened.” Newt relaxed. “They did everything I told them!” She said proudly, putting a hand over her heart.

A sudden feeling of pride spread through Newt’s chest. His smile softened. “Aw, my baby sister is starting to grow, ain’t she?” He teased with a smug grin, grabbing her from across the table and ruffling her hair.

Sonya kicked him in the shins and flailed her arms to get out. He laughed at her weak attempt and loosened his grip.

“That’s why everyone calls you a lizard!” She hissed at him, pushing him away.

He gasped, fake-offended. “How bloody dare you. They call me lizard because of my amazing adaptability and survival ability, along with my ability to thrive in challenging conditions!”

After a bit more back and forth, Sonya raised her hands. “You know what?”

The adrenaline of competitiveness ran through Newt’s veins like fire. But he still listened, nonetheless.

“You won, I was named after an electronics brand.” She sighed in defeat.

Newt burst out laughing. Sonya frowned.

“Oh my god. You two really are siblings,” Harried whispered to herself, barely audible.

“By the way, I got detention.” Sonya said solemnly.

Newt’s laugh slowly died down. He wiped a tear from his eye. “So did I.” He said with a smug smile.

“I’m genuinely just not surprised.”

Newt shrugged, reaching into his pocket. “What can I say? I’m just that delightful.”

“The detention teacher literally calls you part of the haunted furniture.” Sonya deadpanned.

He pulled a pack of gum out of his pocket and carelessly popped one in his mouth. “That’s a compliment.” He held it towards the girls, gesturing to them to take one.

“It really isn’t.” Sonya took one.

Harriet on the other hand, “Gladly, I’ll even take two!” She said overly excited while taking three.

No wonder she’s failing Math.

Sonya opened her mouth to say something else. But then a boy their age showed up out of nowhere.

Newt’s smile faltered. He eyed him the moment he approached. The younger boy’s hands and knees were shaking. Newt’s eyes narrowed.

“Heyyyy, girls.” He greeted awkwardly, sitting next to Sonya, on the edge of the bench.

Sonya slid closer to Harriet.

Newt tensed. He wasn’t going to leave this boy out of his sight for even a moment.

Harried greeted softly. Sonya gave a tiny nod.

His eyes seemed glued to the table.

Newt’s chest tightened.

The boy’s voice was quiet. Almost not there, if you didn’t listen carefully enough. “I… uh, I think that you’re, uh, really hot. Uh, are you, perhaps possibly, free… at any point?”

Newt’s eyes widened. His throat closing up. His gaze flicked to the girls.

They were whispering something, seemingly unaware of what that boy just said.

Usually, Newt would’ve just teased Sonya for having someone be in love with her. But not now. Not here. He heard stuff like this enough times to know what was happening. It was always the same thing.

His fingers subconsciously wrapped around the knife on the table. His jaw clenched so hard it hurt. The world melted away for a moment. Wrath filled his entire body like venom. A phantom feeling hung on his fingers. Blood. And he didn’t hate it.

He stood up too quickly, like thunder striking. His knee hit the table hard. A feeling like static shot through his entire leg. The sound echoed. Heads turned. But he ignored it all.

His eyes were locked on the younger boy like he was prey he couldn’t wait to see dead.

The smaller boy’s head snapped up. His breath caught for a moment, and eyes widened.

Newt swung a leg over the bench.

The younger boy fell backwards off the bench with a screech. His breathing was too quick. His eyes wild with panic. “No- no- wait, please-” He sobbed, sliding backwards on the floor, terrified. He held out his hand like it would shield him.

Newt walked around the table, not taking his eyes off the boy.

The boy’s eyes got glassy. His underlip quivered as he slided back again. “I- I’m- please- don’t-”

Every step the blond boy took felt more dangerous than the previous one.

The boy’s body shook. He quickly turned and got up on quivering legs. He attempted to break in a run. But it was already too late.

Newt’s hand shot out and fisted his shirt.

The boy caught mid-step, his shirt stopping him from getting any further. He let out a choked sound as his collar strangled him. His hands wrapped around it, trying to drag it down to breathe.

But Newt didn’t let the tension go that easily. He pulled at the back of his shirt. The collar jumped back to his throat like a death sentence made of cotton.

He gasped for air.

Newt’s fingers twitched into the fabric, his grip tightening so much his knuckles turned white. He gritted his teeth with restraint.

Then he loosened the tension.

The younger boy wheezed, taking a deep breath in. He hunched over, pulling his collar down.

The blond boy tilted his head coldly.

He looked up at Newt with a silent plea in his eyes.

Newt’s glare didn’t falter. He grabbed the front of his shirt and raised him a few centimetres off the ground. Just enough to make the look in the boy’s eyes desperate. “Why don’t you repeat what you just said to my little sister?” He asked demandingly, eyeing the boy like a broken toy.

He kicked his feet through the air uselessly, trying to get free from Newt’s grip.

Without another word, Newt dropped his body to the floor, still holding his shirt.

The boy grabbed his arm desperately. His nails dug into the blonde’s skin like that would save him. Newt’s eye twitched, his grip on the boy tightening. “Let me go-!” The boy shouted, kicking his legs against the floor. The sound bounced off the cafeteria’s walls. But that didn’t do anything.

Newt dragged him across the floor of the cafeteria like a sack of potatoes.

He tried everything. He screamed. He flailed.

But the older boy was unbothered.

He dragged him all the way outside.

Then he threw the boy hard on the ground in front of him. He winced and rolled.

Newt pulled the knife from around his waist, holding it in a lazy grip, and crouching down in front of the boy. He pointed the knife at his face. “What is your name?” Newt demanded, looking him in the eyes.

“W- Will.” He stammered, breaths coming out short and shallow.

Newt smiled crookedly, getting up. Will’s eyes widened.

“Well, Will, you will be dead.” He gestured with the knife.

Then, out of nowhere, he giggled and facepalmed, laughing even harder. “I’m so sorry, that was a horrible joke!” His hand with the knife twitched at his side. “Regardless, I’ll kill you, just give me a moment to think of something. And don’t even think of trying to run away, you’re never going to outrun me. Perhaps because you’ll die.”

Newt turned around for only a moment, spotting a garbage truck. His lips twitched upwards.

He spun around. “Time’s up! Get over here, I have an idea.” He sheathed his knife again, and grabbed Will’s shirt again, like a leash, dragging him across the floor all the way to the truck.

Will gripped his chains desperately, pulling at them like that would help. “Please!” His back hit a rock. He winced, silenced.

“Greetings!” Newt called out to the driver, getting his attention.

“What do you want, kid?” The driver sounded rushed and annoyed, already looking away from him.

Newt smiled wickedly, pointing a finger to Will.

The driver shifted his attention back to him, arching an eyebrow. “You’re Newton, right?” The boy nodded. “In that case what do I have to do?”

Newt pulled the loose chain off his side and held it up, inspecting it. Perfect.

“You just need to tell me how much you make an hour and then drive around the court when you see me step outside. Got it?” He asked, tilting his head.

The man thought for a moment. “72 pounds an hour.”

Newt’s eyes hardened. His arm dropped to his side, grip around the chain tightening.

“13 pounds an hour.” The driver said quickly.

Newt nodded and dragged Will to the back of the truck and tied him up with the chain.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she had a brother!” He sobbed, grabbing the chain with his hands and yanking. Tears streaked his desperate face. Eyes filled with fear.

“Well, it’s too late now, innit?” Newt smiled.

He grabbed his knife. The cold blade pressed against Will’s arm like a guillotine waiting to fall. Waiting for Newt’s order. The blond put more pressure onto the knife. Its tip dug into the other boy’s arm, drawing the first hint of blood. Will winced like a wounded animal. Newt’s eyes remained sharp, not taking his gaze off the drop smoothly gliding onto his blade, leaving a trace of red. More tears flowed down Will’s cheek as Newt let the edge paint the first line of blood.

“Please,” The younger boy’s voice broke with a sob. “I want to live,”

Newt looked at him for a moment. Like he was debating.

Then, still looking him in the eyes, dragged the knife down his upper arm quickly.

Will screamed. His entire body shook with pain. The air cracked like it itself didn’t want to be part of this.

“Then you should’ve thought twice about who you were messing with.” Newt whispered harshly. He shoved the knife back in its place at his waist, bloodied as is.

Will’s breath caught in his throat like cut, and he shook more violently the moment Newt’s fingers gently dug into the wound.

The blood was warm against Newt’s skin. He took his fingers out of the wound, and just watched the blood flow down for a moment. He rubbed his fingers together like he wanted to discover the components of it. A slight metallic taste formed in his mouth at the strong smell. It dazed him.

Another drop flowed down his fingers elegantly.

Then Will yanked at the chain again.

Newt blinked. The world bled back into view.

“Please,” Will muttered, voice raw.

The blond stood up, only sparing him one last, cold look before walking to the side of the truck.

He rested his fingers against the truck. Then they moved on their own. Tracing imaginary lines he’d done a million times. The circular maze with a circle in the middle painted itself perfectly with the blood. The streaks flowing from the edges felt on purpose. The metallic smell felt like a death sentence for anyone smelling it.

Newt’s hand hovered above the truck. His eyes darting every line to make sure it was perfect.

It was.

He took a few steps back, and a slight smirk tugged at his lips as his eyes fell on Will struggling against the chains.

“By the way, I’ll need that chain back after you’re dead! Hope you don’t mind!” Newt shouted back.

***********************************

Newt walked back in the cafeteria. His smirk was sharp and stride long. He held his head high, meeting everyone’s eyes. His fingers twitched towards the knife at his waist. They ached to have gotten the job done just like that. But where would the fun be in that?

Newt’s eyes scanned the room with practiced ease. Sonya quickly stuck in his eye. His gaze and smile softened a touch, shoulders losing a bit of the tension. Newt made his way back to their table.

“Sorry for my sudden leave.” He apologised. He didn’t sit. He leaned forward against the table, crossing his legs behind himself. It was cold against his upper arm, but he didn’t react.

“What did you do this time?” Sonya narrowed her eyes accusatorily.

Newt’s sharp smirk returned like called upon. He nodded his head once towards the door leading to the schoolyard, eyes glistening with a desire for detriment.

Sonya sighed and threw a glance across the table at Harriet. She nodded with intrigue.

The girls also stood up at the same time, and Newt was already on the move, heading for the door outside. Murmurs arose from some tables, and people turned their heads to see where they were going.

Newt pushed the door open, already smirking like the devil. A few people also followed them outside, but he didn’t do anything against it. There was no reason for him to hide his new ‘artwork’.

The driver was already driving in circles, looking almost playful if it weren’t for the body hanging from it.

No one moved, they just stared at the scene before them like it was charming.

The driver sped up.

Will’s body got more mangled with every second that was passing. His organs hung out like fraying ropes. They caught on rocks, ripping in places. Blood painted the ground red.

He deserves it. Newt's smile only grew when the people started cheering when they saw his symbol.

A few years ago, they didn’t know what it meant. But now they did. They knew it oh too well.

The truck came to a sudden stop, and the breaks squeaked like they were about to snap off. The body flew into the air and plastered itself against the truck. It slid down limply, leaving a trail of red.

Newt took a step towards the truck. The tension in his shoulders released subtly.

“How much did it take?” Sonya asked him, wide-eyed, but not scared.

He turned around with a crooked smirk, walking backwards. His hand lazily slid into his pocket and pulled thirteen pounds out. “Sometimes 13 pounds is all you need.” Newt folded the banknote around the coins, smirk not faltering for a moment.

He turned to face the other direction while walking.

The moment he reached the driver, the driver proudly stuck his hand out. But it was shaking. Newt ignored it.

He pressed the money in the man’s hand like it was just business, and not someone’s life that just ended.

The man offered a tiny smile, his hands shaking violently as he clutched the money tightly, as if trying to convince himself that it had been worth it.

The boy looked him up and down for a moment, just long enough to notice that his entire body was shaking.

Then he turned away without another glance.

His eyes fell on behind the truck, where the body was, and noticed that a few people examining the boy. Sonya was one of them.

He stepped towards her, wondering what she thought.

Someone cleared their throat. Newt stopped, already turning to look at the person. Noah. Of course it’s Noah.

Noah clapped slowly, mockingly. Newt rolled his eyes. “I knew that you’d freak by the end of the day.” He stated, pleased. He leaned against the truck, head tilted against it. His eyes were half-lidded lazily. “I never lose a deal.”

“Whatever you say, you twat. Just text me the address after I get out of detention.” Newt snarled.

The truck’s engine started with a roar. Noah’s eyes snapped open.

Just as he was about to push himself off, the truck’s tires squeaked across the ground, leaving the smell of rubber and dirt hanging in the air.

Noah fell over with a quiet yelp.

Newt’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. He turned his head away and pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Stop laughing!” Noah complained, throwing his hands in the air.

Newt burst out wheezing.

And for just a moment, he didn’t think of everything that could go wrong at that party.

Chapter Text

Detention ended quicker than he thought it would’ve.

Newt held his shoulder as they left the building, rolling it back painfully. The pain pulsated in his head. He ignored the ache just above his hip every time he stepped.

The feeling of Sonya’s concerned gaze on him was unignorable, burning into his skin with concern. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes said everything.

“Did you change your code again?” Newt kneeled down to her bike’s lock, fingers already passing through the numbers like on command.

Sonya shook her head.

He paused for a moment.

“No,” She muttered when she realised he couldn’t see it.

H e nodded. The lock snapped open and uncurled like a snake.

His leg shook subtly as he got up.

Sonya’s eyes narrowed.

He flicked his own bike’s lock open, wrapping it around the seat post. With a swing of the leg over the saddle, his foot landed on the pedal. “You comin'?”

“Yeah,” Sonya also got on her bike.

Newt pushed his bike backwards, and let his entire weight on the pedal, off to a fast start. Sonya followed.

They slowed down only a little later.

Their father’s intoxicated face flashed before Newt’s eyes, sending a cold dread up his back.

Yeah, better later than earlier.

Neither of them talked, the silence stretching between them like a rope. Newt tried ignoring the pulsating ache in his shoulder, but it seemed to have claws, reaching through his body and all the way behind his eyes. His hand flexed against the handle, the heel of his palm hard against it. The indentations buried themselves into his skin with a comfortable pain, reaching to his bone.

“Does your shoulder hurt badly?” Sonya turned her head subtly, just enough to look at him.

His wheel caught a bump, bouncing. “Sonie,” He raised from his seat before his back wheel caught the bump. “He hit me with a chair.” Newt deadpanned.

Sonya nodded. “Yeah, right. Forgot that,” She murmured. They turned into a street. “And what about your leg?”

Newt felt a muscle twitch.

“That wasn’t from your limp.” Sonya said knowingly.

A pressure built in his chest, and his hands gripped the handle properly. “That’s nothing. Just… a little pain.”

He glanced to the side to see her face, though it was turned to the street. But he could still see something shift in her eyes. Barely noticeable, but there.

She didn’t push though.

Their house came into view. Newt directed his eyes at any other one.

“Are you sure you’re not gonna call in sick today?” Sonya’s voice was quiet, changing the subject.

Newt didn’t have to answer. They both knew she already had the answer.

“I really don’t understand just why you have to work. Mum’s a doctor!”

His eyes softened.

He couldn’t possibly explain to her that most of their mother’s paycheck was wasted because she and their father had a joint account. Or that they’d be even worse off if he didn’t do anything.

“I just do. There is nothing we can do against it.”

Sonya sighed, pressing on the breaks as they reached the front of their house. They leaned their bikes against the fence, and headed for the door.

Newt reached into his pocket for the key, his fingers brushing the pack of tissues he always had on him. The keyring hooked on his finger like a fish on a fishing rod, and he pulled it out.

He hesitated. The key hovered centimetres in front of the keyhole. His hand tightened around the doorknob. He slid it in slowly, each pin audibly lifting. Before he knew it, the door was wide open.

The house was empty. A smile tugged at his lips.

They stepped in the house.

“Go do your homework,” Newt kicked his boots off. “I’ll get dinner done.”

Sonya groaned. “Why do I have to do my homework, but not you?” She crossed her arms.

Newt pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just go. Or would you rather make dinner?”

Her lips were pressed in a tight line. Sonya’s eyes darted across the floor like it held a way to get out. “No,” Her voice was quiet.

“What was that?”

“No,” It was barely louder, vaguely sounding like she was chewing on something.

“One more time, please?” Newt tilted his head with a sly smile.

“Fine! No, I don’t.” Sonya groaned again, and turned to walk away.

A soft laugh escaped Newt’s lips.

She turned around again. “There’s a reason you’re single.” She deadpanned.

He placed his palm on her hair and pulled her towards him, placing a tiny kiss to the top of her head before pushing her away, still giggling. “Come on, now. You’ve had your pouty pre-teen moment. Now homework.” He waved her off.

Sonya crossed her arms.

Newt held her gaze. “Homework.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not filing taxes.”

“You’re not filing taxes either.”

“We are not getting into tax evasion right now,” Newt already felt a pressure in his head, almost a headache. “I don’t get it either.”

Sonya shrugged and turned towards the stairs. “Well, guess it’s better that way,” She disappeared up the stairs.

Why the bloody hell can’t she just do what I say for once in our lives?

Newt made his way to the kitchen, passing the couch on the way. He flicked the TV on. A random news channel came on. Nothing interesting, but he kept it on, for background noise. He tossed the remote carelessly back on the couch, and went to turn the stove on.

Time seemed to fly by, only slowing when he glanced at the clock hanging crookedly on the wall.

He picked a quick food, something you wouldn’t need much thought to prepare. He always did. Time was precious and his cooking skills limited. Anything that took more than forty minutes was off the menu by default.

Sonya shouted something unintelligible over the sound of the buzzing of the kitchen hood.

“Can’t hear you!” Newt shouted back. “If you want anything, get down here!”

It only took her seconds to come down the stairs. She was talking quickly, seemingly not using any pauses. Her eyes were glued to the piece of paper in her hand, crunched where her fingers gripped tightly.

Newt’s pulse raised subtly, the pressure in his head stronger. “Hey, hey. Hey! Stop!” He turned around to her, wooden spoon in the air like it was a pointing stick.

Sonya paused and finally looked up from her paper.

“Slow down.” He softened his tone. “What do you need?”

“We’re learning about the clergy. And whatever other things were in the church in the medieval times.” She explained, squinting at the paper.

Newt nodded. “Read it to me,”

He went over all the positions in the medieval times with her, explaining what she didn’t understand and correcting what she got wrong. By the time her homework was done, Newt had finished cleaning the kitchen twenty minutes ago.

He leaned against the stove, the wooden surface pressing against his spine with a comfortable pain.

“It finally makes sense! Thanks!” Sonya smiled a warm smile.

He couldn’t help but return it.

Worth it.

Newt pushed himself off the stove. “I’m glad that you finally understood history, but now I must get to doing whatever I can with my time left. Do you have any homework left?”

Sonya shook her head rapidly. She paused, eyes directed towards the ground, her body swaying dizzily. She carefully slid off the counter, her feet hitting the ground with a soft thud.

“Then you’re dusting.”

“Yeah, I guessed,”

Newt watched her rush to the bathroom like her lifeline was there.

He swung the closet doors open.

“WHERE DID YOU PUT THE DUST STUFF THIS TIME?” Sonya shouted from the bathroom.

He giggled and took the vacuum.

Three. two. one .

“NEVERMIND! I FOUND IT!”

They didn’t get much done.

The ticking of the clock felt like a timebomb the longer it embedded itself into Newt’s brain. His mind felt more tired than his body, and he wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.

His eyes wandered to the clock half subconsciously.

“Fuck,” It was a mere whisper.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins like a barbed wire. He ran up to his room and grabbed a jacket from his desk along with his work badge.

“What are you- oh wait, HURRY UP!”

“I know!” Newt ran back down the stairs and grabbed his keys off the table, tossing them in the air and catching them. “Food is in the microwave, you know where the water is, and please take a shower before I get back this time, I didn’t do my homework yet, and I don’t want to deal with that. If dad comes home, just ignore him, he’s not going to notice you if you don’t say anything.” He spoke rapidly and put his shoes on.

“Yea, I know! Go! Go!” Sonya waved him towards the door.

“Thanks, love you, bye!” And with that he was out the door.

10 minutes left.

He jumped on his bike and quickly pedalled to the store a few streets down.

Newt swung the staff-only door open. A tall, bald man was arranging things.

The boy slipped past him, tossing his jacket on a chair.

“Hi Jerry!” He greeted the man, grabbing an employee vest.

Jerry looked up. “Hey, kid. I honestly thought that you’ll come late again.”

“I can be punctual too, you know?”

“Really?”

He smirked at the man, and reached for the door.

“Good luck!” Jerry shouted.

“Thanks, you too!” Newt shouted back.

The door clicked shut.

His eyes flicked to the cashier, expecting to see Sarah. Except it wasn’t her.

“Hey Janifer, do you happen to know where Sarah is?” Newt leaned forwards against the checkstand.

Janifer shook her head. “She’s sick today.” She didn’t look up from counting money. “But if you’re here for what you have to do, she left you this note.”

Her hand slipped under the register, pulling out a half-crumpled yellow sticky note.

He plucked it from her hand. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

So, restock the soda aisle, the toothbrushes, the toothpaste, the- why the bloody hell do I have to restock all this tooth stuff.

His eyes scanned the note for anything that wasn’t usually on the note, not looking up at the aisles he was walking down.

The storage door raised itself with a mechanical swish. A cold air hit his face once it was open.

Newt grabbed the first box and dragged it across the floor after him, one hand hooked in the handle, other still holding up the note to his face. The smell of carton stuck in his nose.

He mouthed the words on the note one last time before stuffing it in his pocket. 

***

The screen of his phone lit up with the numbers 22:13. It was dark outside, and each breath shimmered in the air like a cloud. A streetlight flickered with a deep buzzing somewhere in the distance. The chain of his bike made subtle clicking sounds.

“Great, now I must go do my homework and then I can’t just rest, NO! I also must go to that stupid party!” Newt complained, gesturing through the air with a hand.

When he reached his door, he sighed and unlocked it. Light poured from the lamp next to the couch and the TV.

Why does he always pass out before he turns the light off?! It was an absolutely horrible design choice, anyways. How can someone be so tasteless?

He threw his jacket on the hanger absentmindedly. He already knew what he was going to see.

His father was sprawled on the couch, hanging half off it. The air around him still reeked of the heavy smell of beer.

Newt flicked the TV off, pulling at the pull chain of the lamp. The light died with a light click.

Newt went up the stairs to Sonya’s room. He stopped just in front of the white wooden door with cracks starting to show in the paint.

She’d wanted to decorate it for a long time already. But every time she did, the decorations on the outside were gone by the next morning. Neither of them had been able to figure it out, but she stopped trying at some point.

Newt knocked quietly.

No answer.

His knuckles met the door again, a little louder.

Still nothing.

He came in.

The moment the door was open, only a crack, light spilled in the hallway like ink on paper.

So you are awake.

But when he stepped in, he had to keep from giggling.

Sonya laid on her carpet, sound asleep. A book was on her face, like it fell but she couldn’t have cared to wake up. She was still half holding onto it.

Newt’s shoulders were shaking subtly as he walked over to her.

Her breathing was steady and soft.

He kneeled down next to her, carefully raising the book off her face like it was an ancient relic. He flicked the cover shut, analysing it for a moment.

Pet Sematary. You’re not supposed to read this.

He smiled and tilted his head. A tiny feeling of pride sparked in his chest. Newt reached over to put the book on her nightstand.

His arms slipped under her. He picked her up with hardly any trouble.

Sonya shifted in his arms and hugged him, nuzzling her head in his chest.

Newt gently placed his sister on her bed. He tried to pull away.

Sonya groaned in her sleep, not letting go.

“Come on, you little rat, let go,” A slight giggle got through his words.

Thanks. He thought when he finally got out.

Newt looked at her for a moment, and then leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“Sleep well, Sonnie.” The boy murmured, heading for the door with practiced silence and flicking the light off.

The door closed without a sound.

Newt’s door didn’t close silently though. He couldn’t hide his hanging limbs anymore.

“I hate my life.” He sighed, pulling his phone from his pocket. He dropped backwards on his bed, secretly hoping he’d just hit his head on the wall and be out cold. But that didn’t happen.

When he turned his phone on, he was greeted by fifty-six unread messages and seven percent battery. All the messages were all from Noah.

Me: Man, what is your bloody problem? Did someone interesting die?

Noah the Alpaca: About time you answered! Did you forget our deal?!

Me: No

Me: I was at work

Noah the Alpaca: Whatever you say, are you dressed for the party?

Me: No, I just got home, but I think I might just go as is

Noah the Alpaca: ARE YOU INSANE?!

Me: Kinda

Noah the Alpaca: THIS IS A VERY IMPORTANT PARTY YOU CAN’T JUST GO AS IS!

Me: Thank God for autocorrect, you would’ve messed that sentence up so badly otherwise

Noah the Alpaca: Shut up.

Me: I’m not talking, I’m writing

Noah the Alpaca: Whatever, just get ready and meet me in front of school in about 1 hour

Me: K, I’ll do my homework first though x

Noah the Alpaca: JUST. BE. THERE.

Me: Bye, Noah

Noah the Alpaca: BE. THERE.

Me: Bye

Thirty minutes homework. Should work .

*** 

Newt spun his chair, jumping out of it. “Not again…” He groaned.

The homework stayed sprawled over his desk messily.

It ended up taking an hour to finish the homework.

Newt rushed down the stairs, doing his best not to make a sound. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to get it to sit somewhat alright.

A key turn in the lock.

His breath stopped.

His mother stumbled in. He could see her leaning against the door, barely able to stand, through the light shed by the moon.

Mum…

Something in his head pulsated with pain just as his heart ached. He couldn’t stand seeing her like that.

“Hi, mum. How was work?” Newt gave her his arm to stabilise herself. She let her entire weight on him.

The boy closed the door behind her.

“Why are you still awake? You were supposed to be asleep.” She mumbled, almost incoherent.

He helped her to her room just past the livingroom. “I just finished my homework. I came down here for a midnight snack and heard you come in.”

Her nails dug in his arm as she stumbled in the door of her room. Newt caught her.

“You are such a hard worker, I’m sorry that you must do so many things on your own. You deserve a break.” She mumbled as she sat on the bed.

“It’s fine, mum, I’ll manage. You just get some rest now.” He gently pushed his mother down and pulled the cover over her.

“Good… night,” Her voice died down.

She fell asleep.

Something in his eyes stung. Lying was supposed to be easy. It always was.

Just not to her.

Newt spared his mother one last look before leaving.

The frosty night air was a wonderful change of air, flooding his lungs pleasantly. As always, Newt took his bike, letting a playlist play in his ears.

“There you are! So glad that you didn’t ditch me.” Noah said excitedly when Newt pulled at the cord. T he earphones dangled from his pocket. Newt stuffed them in.

“First of all, I would never ditch you.” He said with a smile then disappeared. “Second of all, sorry for being late.”

Noah rolled his eyes, dragging him by the arm. “Yeah, yeah, I know you are. I don’t even expect you to be on time anymore.”

Newt snorted, pulling his arm from Noah’s grip. “Just lead the way.”

He could hear his best friend babble on about something on the way. But he couldn’t understand a single word of what was being said.

He couldn’t stop thinking about all the things that could go wrong at a bar full of underaged people that slaughter each other for fun.

Newt plucked the cigarette from behind his ear and lit it.

A drag was all that was necessary for the tension in his shoulders to loosen. The taste of smoke on his tongue stunned the pounding in his head for a bit.

“Let’s go!” Noah ripped him out of his thoughts and pushed the door open.

Loud music and possibly too many people in a single room slammed in his brain. The strong smell of alcohol and too much perfume stung his nose.

Yet, Newt couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ll be back, trust you to still be alive!” Noah shouted, barely audible over the music.

And then he was already gone. No trace remained in the crowd.

Newt stepped in like he owned the entire room. He rolled his shoulder back, eyes scanning the room.

It was taller than he’d have thought, the second floor a balcony around the edges, looking down at the main room. Seeing anything but wild colours was impossible. Everyone wanted to make a statement, but it just came out as a sea of intelligible madness. The cameras were off and exits locked.

Perhaps this won’t be so bad.

A tap on his shoulder.

Newt tensed. His fingers twitched towards his knife.

He turned.

“Hi!” The face of a red-haired girl met him. Scarlett. She twirled a glass of champagne, the warmest smile on her lips.

“Hi, havin’ fun?” He asked, a smile suddenly plastered on his face. He had to scream over the music to make himself heard.

She nodded full of energy. “Lots! I love the music here! Joahnna can be a bit much, but I like still it!” Scarlett swayed tipsily to the beat.

She glanced behind him. Her eyes lit up.

A slight frown tugged in Newt’s face.

Before he could turn, Scarlett grabbed his wrist.

“Come on!” She ran through the crowd, dragging him along.

Newt stumbled over someone’s shoe. The cigarette fell out of his mouth at some point. His eyes rushed across everything in a blur. Scarlett’s grip was tight. He bumped into someone. His footing faltered.

Scarlett came to a sharp stop. She pulled Newt next to her.

His chest was heaving, hair messier than before. His fingers wrapped around his own throat, almost like he couldn’t believe he was still alive. He pressed lightly. Newt’s breathing steadied slightly.

“Now! For my next trick, I’ll take that guy over there,” The girl on the counter of the bar they stopped in front of announced.

Newt raised his gaze.

Joahnna dragged a small, brunette boy out of the gathered crowd by his collar.

The boy’s breath audibly caught in his throat. His hands closed around her forearms, but she didn’t let him go.

Joahnna winked at him, pressing her boot to his chest, still holding him.

The boy’s eyes flicked between her boot and her face.

She kicked him against the pole that was stuck through the counter for some reason.

His back hit the pole with a sickening sound. He coughed and fell forwards, hands slapping onto the wood.

Newt’s hand fell from his own throat, amusement flashing through his eyes. A smirk curled on his lips.

This isn’t bad at all.

His body almost forgot he was tired.

Someone from the crowd threw Joahnna a rope. She caught it effortlessly.

The little boy was picked up again and pressed against the pole. The rope tied around his body, seemingly cutting into his flesh from how tightly it was wrapped. He could barely even struggle against it.

“And now I’ll take 40 steps back!” Joahnna announced, somehow even more theatrically than before.

Everyone was already cheering. Everyone already knew what was going on.

Each of her wobbly steps echoed, despite the music. She didn’t stop when grabbing the axe from a person who held it up. She didn’t even spare the person a glance. The bloody axe dragged after her, scraping into the wood. A few splinters bounced, but no one noticed. Her knees kicked the white dress she was wearing with each step. The bloodstains shimmered under the golden light.

On the fortieth step, both her boots slammed on the counter hard.

She spun around on her heel and raised the axe above her head.

It caught the light. Blood dripped down the handle from the toe and blade. It flowed just under Joahnna’s palm and came out from under her hand. It lingered on the knob like a raindrop. It dripped on her dress.

Joahnna blinked like she remembered something.

Her arm swung down almost limply, still holding the axe.

The cheering suddenly stopped.

Newt arched a brow and crossed his arms in anticipation.

Joahnna grabbed at her dress and started cutting it shorter, until it was around knee length.

A few people booed.

“Listen, everyone, I need mobility!” She shouted over them, throwing her arms to the sides like a complaint.

She took aim again.

It wasn’t apparent, but Newt could see her breathing heavily and through the mouth. One of her hands dropped from the handle. She shook it. Then it came back on the handle.

Newt felt like he was holding his breath.

Joahnna never tried throwing an axe while drunk.

Her wrists tilted back slightly, tipping the axe lower.

She threw it.

The moment she let go of it, it spun. Fast. It caught the light. The reflection dimmed through the blood. No one in the crowd made a sound, like that would stop it from spinning. Time seemed to slow. Each spin made Newt’s heart beat faster.

She couldn’t miss this.

The longer it dragged on, the harsher he could hear his own breathing.

The axe’s toe hit the small boy perfectly between his eyes.

Blood splashed on the counter and the first row. The crowd erupted in cheers.

Scarlett threw her arms in the air and screeched. She jumped up and pulled Newt in a hug.

He laughed, eyes fixed on the way the axe stuck out of the boy’s head.

Joahnna twirled, rejoicing. Her face lit up like she was showered with grace.

Scarlett let go of Newt and instantly went to Joahnna.

He turned away, the smile not faltering.

That was entertaining.

For the next two hours, Newt tried avoiding people, and failed horribly.

He could feel his headache coming back all over again.

The door wasn’t that far away. No one would notice if he just left. He stood in the middle of the room.

Newt pushed through the crowd, trying his best to shut the screaming and loud music out.

His half-lidded eyes felt like they were burning from exhaustion.

He stumbled into the door with a quiet thump, silent with how loud everything else was.

Newt’s fingers wrapped around the doorknob. He pulled.

But the door didn’t budge.

His eyes shot open. The grip on the knob tightened. Newt pulled again.

Still nothing.

And only then did it hit him. His stomach tied into a knot.

The mess of screams and music died down, replaced by whispers.

They filled Newt's head, flowing through like blood.

Eyes burned into the back of his head.

He turned.

“Let’s see who we have here!” A loud voice echoed from the second floor, showered in a maniacal laugh. It was rather deep, with a thick American accent. Obnoxiously self-absorbed.

Dylan.

Newt glared up at him, adrenaline shooting through his veins and pushing his tiredness to the back of his brain.

Dylan stood on the railing like he wanted to own them all. Something about his stance made Newt’s blood boil and his jaw clench.

“You know who I am, you pest!” Newt shouted back.

A tiny giggle came from a corner of the room.

Dylan’s face darkened. He turned his head only a bit, waving his minions away. They all ran away in a hurry.

Something in Newt’s chest tightened.

“You know what, Newt?” Dylan turned his head back at the crowd. “You were right when you told me I couldn’t kill you.” He threw his arms out, voice dropping deeper. “But I know something that can.”

A tablecloth caught fire.

Newt’s heart skipped a beat. He took a step back, his back hitting the door.

Fire spread to the other tablecloths, reaching up like claws into the black smoke curling towards the ceiling.

Breathing got harder.

The smell of gasoline got stronger by the second.

Panicked screams seemed to bounce off the smoke.

A few people dropped to the floor coughing and covered their mouths with their shirts.

Others ran at exits.

Also locked.

The pressure in Newt’s head grew.

The shrill screeching of the fire alarm broke out.

A cough ripped out of Newt’s lungs. He pulled his shirt over his mouth and nose.

His brain didn’t have time to think. His body just acted.

He shoved past people. Some fell to the floor. But there was no time.

He saw no more than two metres in front of himself.

Heat brushed his skin as he passed a table cloth. Newt flinched away as a deep ache settled into his flesh. He turned his arm instinctively. The first few layers of skin were gone.

He gritted his teeth and kept going.

His lungs ached for air, like they didn’t know that this air would only make it worse.

The doors swung open as Newt pressed against it with his entire body weight.

He stumbled onto the other side as the doors swung closed.

Newt dropped his shirt from his face.

He took a deep breath in. It felt like cold water over the fire in his lungs. His shoulders hung heavy.

The floor of the kitchen was tiled with a blue-ish white. Roll containers were scattered wildly. A red door stood in a corner, the word Exit glowing in red letters above it.

Newt’s heart pounded like the pain in his head.

He ran at the door. His hands shot out against it.

He pressed the bar down, pushing like his life depended on it.

The door moved outwards ever so slightly.

It wasn’t locked.

But it still wouldn’t open.

Newt took a few steps back, and rammed his shoulder into the door.

T he sinking feeling in his stomach grew with each passing second.

T he black smoke began seeping from under the door.

“Come on!” He shouted as he rammed his body in the door for the fourth time.

The door moved more with each strike.

A sting formed in his eyes.

I can’t leave Sonya.

He rammed his shoulder against the door again.

It still didn’t open.

Newt’s breathing sped up.

He desperately grabbed one of the rolling containers, and angled it at the door.

His leg twitched under him as he stabilized his footing. Trying to slow his breathing was futile. His shoulder flexed nervously. His throat locked up as the smoke poisoned the air around him.

Newt pushed the rolling container at the door. Its wheels clacked across the floor.

T he door slammed open loudly.

The two guys on the other side went stumbling back, falling in the grass. The rolling container hit one of them, trapping him under.

Newt’s finger twitched, aching to just run out. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

He grabbed a second rolling container and pressed it in the swinging doors of the kitchen, keeping them open.

“The exit in the kitchen is open!” He shouted in the chaotic room.

The fire was reaching up to the ceiling. But he couldn’t save anyone. He couldn’t risk it.

Just as he turned, one of the guys got up. He pulled one of the doors closed, reaching for the other.

Newt’s heart skipped a beat. His body moved without a second thought.

He ran at the guy just as his fingers wrapped around the door.

Newt tackled him.

They both fell to the ground into a roll.

The guy’s fingers dug into his side harshly.

Newt reached for his hair. He pulled at it, into another roll.

The other boy gripped his arm, stopping it.

But Newt was on top.

He straddled him, eyes were cold as ice.

The boy’s knee shot up into Newt’s spine.

Something in his body screamed in pain.

Nothing faltered though.

His fingers wrapped around the other boy’s throat. He squeezed.

A strangled whimper escaped his lips. He tried grabbing back, at Newt’s throat. The motion was desperate. He didn’t get a solid grip.

Newt pulled his knife from his pocket.

He slit his throat.

The blood from the boy’s throat started rushing out. It was warm and had a twistedly comforting feeling to it. The thrashing stopped.

Newt’s eyes didn’t linger. It meant nothing.

He got up, only sparing a glance to the other guy. That one was unconscious.

He shoved the bloody knife back in his pocket.

“Those psychopaths can get out on their own.” He murmured to himself, returning to his bike.

***

The door creaked open. He slipped through the crack, his chest brushing the door subtly.

The coldness of the metal handle melted through the warmth of the blood. His fingers slid off reluctantly, like they wanted the comfort of the coldness.

The door creaked again as he pushed it with his elbow. It clicked shut.

Newt didn’t even think of the streak of red left on the door handle.

His eyes flicked over the pitch black room once as he kicked his boots off.

How much longer will Sonya accept this? Something inside him whispered.

He swallowed dryly, like that would push it down. The spit flowed down his throat hard, threatening to catch on whatever whispered. Probably his own thoughts.

Newt’s legs moved on their own accord.

The stairs creaked under his body weight. His feet barely got up each step, catching on the edge of each one.

A groan came from the couch.

Newt paused. His heart skipped a beat.

The sounds of the couch as his father shifted flew through the air. Metallic, but softened through the cushions.

The boy looked over his shoulder.

He felt his own heartbeat pulsating in his temples and throat in a lump like sealed shut. His finger twitched against the wall, dragging down just enough to feel the place the paint was peeling. His eyes ached in the darkness, somehow begging to close, and yet hurting too much to do so.

No one stood at the bottom of the stairs.

His head fell back ahead.

His mind went blank for just a moment.

He found himself at the top of the stairs. The edge stood just beneath his heels.

His stomach would’ve dropped if his mind had registered it. But it didn’t.

He pressed down on the doorhandle of the bathroom. His hand slid off just as it was down. The handle flew back up with a clank that echoed through the hallway.

The door opened slowly, like possessed, yet stayed quiet about it.

Newt flicked the lightswitch on. The fluorescent light above-head flickered twice, before spilling the cold white light out. It fell on the floor in the hallway like a coffin.

The frigid feeling of the tiles melted through his socks. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought they wanted his body warmth.

The smell of mint toothpaste hung in the air formally, not like a sign of life, but like a sign of existence .

Newt’s hands hit the edge of the clinically white sink. His thumb traced one of the many cracks, like it would fix itself with the blood on his hands.

His reflection in the dirty mirror felt undeserved.

After everything he did, the house, even his life, was somehow still in this condition.

Emptiness filled his chest, like the rest of the house.

The futility of his struggles was almost amusing.

A hollow laugh rumbled just below his throat. It died a moment later.

The blood felt like half a hug. The feeling could linger a little longer, right?

His eyelids felt heavier with the moment.

The look in that guy’s eyes flashed in his mind for a moment. Newt’s hand reached at his side, fingers curling around the handle of his knife. Something in his mind twitched. Pleasantly.

A corner of his mouth raised by just a few millimetres. It dropped again, like his body was too exhausted to keep it.

The knife clattered in the sink. It slid across its walls, smearing the thick blood that flowed down them like tiny rivers.

The tip caught on the drain.

Newt opened the faucet. Water flowed onto the blade, carrying the red into the drain, to erase.

The water was unusually warm when he stuck his hands under it. But it didn’t mean much. The blood came off easily, despite the warmth. The soap hid the smell just enough to go unnoticed.

He dried his hands and knife off, cleaning the trace off the doorhandle with the water running as background noise. It numbed the static in his brain.

Newt dragged himself to his room.

The moment the door closed, he collapsed on the bed.

Everything went peacefully silent as his eyelids collapsed over his eyes along with him.

Chapter Text

The TV buzzed with a news channel.

“What’s on the news today?” Sonya asked, walking in the kitchen.

Her brother just shrugged. “How would I know? I just turned it on.”

Sonya made her way to the living room and swung herself over the couch’s back. The cushions softened her landing.

Newt didn’t think much of it.

Until she turned the volume up a bit.

“Sonnie, I turned it on to have background noises, not for it to blow my ears out.”

“Turn the stove off and get over here, you have to see this.” She didn’t look away from the TV, her voice breathy and almost faltering.

Something in it made his stomach knot. Newt turned the stove off and hurried to sit down next to her.

Sonya scooted over, closer to him, like that would make the news disappear.

“A horrible accident happened just twenty minutes ago on Kingsmen street. A doctor was hit by a taxi while on the crosswalk. The taxi driver fled the crime scene, leaving him unknown. If anyone has any information on who the driver is, please report to the authorities immediately. Please mind that the footage may be scarring to some individuals. Harry, please tell us a bit more about this incident.”

Newt couldn’t do anything but stare at the TV. The knot tied tighter, and felt like it tightened every part of his body.

The camera batted out and switched to a different man. “Thank you, Haris, we have officially been able to identify the woman as the ER doctor, Thalia Isaacs. Apparently, she had worked all night and just now got out of work. She was on her way home to her husband and two children when the still unknown maniac brutally hit her with his taxi. Now, it’s time to interview some of the witnesses.”

Newt’s eyes went wide. A deep ache settled in his chest. His grip on his sister tightened.

Tears streamed down Sonya’s face. A broken sob escaped her lips.

Newt’s throat tightened. He felt her shaking in his arms and pulled her so she didn’t face the screen anymore.

The girl’s head fell on his shoulder. Warm tears melted into his shirt.

He couldn’t hear the news anymore. A high-pitched screech echoed in his ears. His vision blurred into a mess of everything melted together from tears.

A sob came from Sonya, like it was the only one that could come out.

He turned the TV off, leaving the air in a buzzing silence, only broken by his sister’s sobs. They got more desperate. Some were silent, like it hurt too much to get them out.

“Why, why did she have to leave us like this?” She barely got out.

“I don’t know, Sonnie,” Newt swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”

The aching in his chest was worse than any stab could ever be. It was a pain he couldn’t name, stretching seemingly throughout his entire body. A shudder went down his shoulders.

He wanted to just let the tears fall. But he couldn’t. Not with Sonya there.

He just let the stinging in his eyes get worse by the second and ran his hand up and down her back shakily.

The door swung open.

Sonya didn’t even look up.

Another shudder ran through his body like electricity.

Their father stumbled in. Sober. But breathing heavily, like his panic was consuming him.

His voice was shaky, just like his knees. “Kids, I’m… I’m so sorry, I-  I didn’t mean to, I-” He cut himself off, gaze falling on look at his hands.

An awful feeling crawled up Newt’s spine. He frowned as if that would fix anything.

Sonya weakly raised her head from his shoulder. Her eyes were red from crying, and she stared at their father with them still glassy.

“Sonnie, go to your room. I’ll handle this.”

She shook her head. “Please, not now,”

“It’s alright,” He cupped her face and placed a kiss on her forehead.

She held him in a tight hug. “No, please,” She whispered like it hurt.

“Sonnie, go.” Newt felt his voice threatening to falter, but swallowed it down.

Sonya sniffled. She reluctantly got off the couch and went up the stairs, stopping at the last step for a moment.

Her door clicked shut.

Newt also got up. He stood in front of the excuse of a man he had to call his father.

The boy eyed him, his gag reflex almost stepping in. “You’re sorry, huh? You’re bloody sorry?!” His jaw tightened with restraint. “ Oh , of course, you didn’t mean it! You didn’t mean to hit our mother with your bloody taxi?! Or did you not mean to ruin our lives?! Which is it? ”

The man just stood there like this was the first time he was confronted for his actions. It probably was.

He didn’t say anything at first. It was almost as if he were looking for words to justify himself with. But he couldn’t. Nothing could justify what he did.

“I-” He started, eyes glued to the floor. He murmured something under his breath.

Newt’s eyes darkened.

Before he could say anything, his father looked up from the floor. That same hateful look in his eyes as always. “And why should I tell you that? You’re my child, you’re the one that should answer to me, not the other way around!”

There he is again.

“You say you’re my father? You have the nerve to call yourself a father? After everything you’ve done?- Actually, haven’t done.” Newt felt his blood boiling. He wasn’t sure what the reason was. But the reason didn’t matter. What mattered, was that he wanted nothing more than to rip his throat out. “Act like a father, for fuck’s sake! You have done nothing to keep neither me or Sonya safe! Not you, not mum.” Newt’s voice shook with rage. His eyes locked onto his father’s like a challenge.

“I don’t have to excuse myself in front of you, child! It’s your fault this family went to shit in the first place. Everything was much better before you were born.”

The tension in Newt’s body loosened uncomfortably as a knot tied in his throat.

Those godforsaken words. They were back. Just when he thought he’d escaped them. Just when he thought he wouldn’t have to think about those words again.

That was the person that was supposed to keep him safe. The one that was supposed to make sure that he felt included. That person that was supposed to raise him. The person that was supposed to comfort him in this moment instead of blaming him.

“You are the reason your mother died.” The man said coldly. “If you weren’t around, she would still be. You should’ve died instead of her. She was an amazing woman, she deserved to live! I loved her!”

“Then why did you hit her?! If you loved her so much, then why did you get drunk even though you knew how much it hurt her?! Why did you act like she was nothing more than a pile of trash?!” Newt’s voice broke, his desperation clearer with every word.

Tears streamed down his face like a long awaited relief. As much as he hated crying, it was the only thing he could do anymore.

His father slapped him.

The sound echoed through the house loudly.

Newt fell to his knees, clutching his face. The spot felt like it was burning in the form of the man’s hand. His breathing broke with a sob.

“DON’T YOU CRY! BOYS DON’T CRY! Do you need to be shown what happens when boys cry? Again, pest?”

Newt shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He felt the pressure under his eyelids build. He tried pushing it down. But his body wouldn’t listen.

His father’s foot hit his stomach like a brick.

Newt was sent tumbling across the floor. Each contact with the floor felt like it would leave another bruise. Thud after thud filled his ears. Pain escalated in his head, almost like fever. But worse.

His body came to a stop.

Newt didn’t even attempt getting up properly. That would’ve only made it worse. He slowly pushed himself onto his hands and knees.

E verything hurt. Inside. Outside. Everything.

A cough ripped out of him like he was trying to tear a part of himself off. Newt pressed a hand flat to his chest. But another cough tore its way out. He felt each one in the depths of his lungs.

A dot of red fell onto the wooden floor.

The boy’s hand fell from his chest back to the floor.

A cough like he was dying brought more blood up his throat. It dropped onto the floor on its own accord. The metallic taste and smell stung. His teeth looked like he’d skinned an animal with them.

The man walked past him. “Can’t even pack a punch.” He snorted. “Your mother’s death really is your fault.”

The fridge opened with the clinking of glass bottles. One was taken out. 

***

“Damn man, this has to be a new record. The entire first period? And for the love of God, what happened to you?” The amusement in Noah’s voice died, turned into genuine concern for once.

“Do I really look that bad?” Newt dropped in his seat like his body lost all life for a moment.

He nodded. “You look like you didn’t sleep at all last night after getting in a barfight because someone you care about died.”

Newt sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. “Cut the barfight and replace it with my father, and you’ve got it.” He said gloomily.

Noah’s eyes widened. “What… happened?” He asked cautiously.

“Mum died.” It was merely a whisper and didn’t give all the information there was to give. But it was just enough for Noah to understand and just enough for him not to start crying again.

“Can I do anything?” Noah asked, leaning forward.

Newt shook his head and put it on the table. “It’s alright. Just… wake me up when the teacher gets too close, I guess.” He said, already drifting off into sleep.

He didn’t hear the answer, but he didn’t worry. He trusted Noah with his life.

Chapter Text

“Hi, Newt! How are you feeling?” Scarlet dropped in the seat next to Noah, opposite to Newt. Her smile was bright as ever.

“Hi, ’m alright, you?” Newt smiled back.

“Are you kidding me?” Noah deadpanned. Neither of them listened.

“I’m great! The business has been going great, and some people even outside heard about it!” She announced happily.

“Hello?”

“That’s amazing. I’m happy you got this working for you.”

Noah threw glances between the two. Newt pressed his lips together, suppressing a laugh. “Are you two really ignoring me?” He sounded like a lost puppy.

“Thank you! Also, if you ever need anything, I’m free. I really owe you.”

Newt nodded, his eyes falling on the knife laying on the table next to him. His eyes narrowed. Ideas flashed before his eyes. He only rarely poisoned. But a poisoned knife sounded practical.

“Yea, I get it, you guys just like ignoring me. Whatever, it’s not like I care at all. Doesn’t matter to me. I’ll just wait until you’re done.” Noah let his head fall into his hand, hunched over the table.

“How…” Scarlett started, a bit more careful. Newt looked up from the knife. “How have you been with... your loss?”

Newt sighed. Four months. He shouldn’t have been this good after four months.

He saw Noah straighten through the corner of his eye.

“It’s been... Well,” An awkward giggle came out of his throat. It died down moments later. “I’m… alright, I guess. The memory still kinda hurts, though.” Newt paused for a moment, throwing a glance at the other two. They looked at him like they expected to hear more. “But I’m alright, really. I don’t have much to hold onto. I still cared about her, she was still my mum. But there isn’t much to miss. I never had a connection with her. She didn’t act like a mother.” Newt explained. An ache settled in his chest and a cold shiver ran down his shoulders. It was supposed to hurt more. It should’ve.

“I’d probably feel the same.” Noah said, reaching across the table. He laid his hand on Newt’s and gave it a light squeeze. His hand was cold, but oddly reassuring.

Newt nodded, avoiding the others’ eyes.

“It’s alright. We understand.” Scarlet added sadly. “It would be ridiculous if we didn’t.”

“Let’s not talk about this anymore. I already told you, I got over her death. So did Sonya.”

***

Their conversation died down as Newt leaned his bike against the fence. The air felt like they were in the deepest trenches of the ocean, and the cold rain poured mercylessly. Splashes of mud sounded through the air with each drop that hit.

His clothes clung to his body uncomfortably, and drops plummeted onto his forehead from his hair. Sonya wrapped her arms around herself as if that would’ve stopped her from shivering.

The tiny broken glass roof before the door didn’t do anything to stop the rain. It simply fell through the hole.

Newt silently slid the key in the door and opened it slowly.

Please don’t be home.

The man stood in the door.

His eyes were wide and more prominent than usual, pupils dilated.

Newt’s stomach turned. His arm instinctively shot out to the side, shielding Sonya. She shivered against his arm.

“Where the fuck have you two been, you cunts?” The man slurred.

Alright, drunk, obviously drunk.

“School.” Newt and Sonya replied simultaneously.

Newt took a step closer to the door in an attempt to push past the man.

His breath caught as his fingers curled into his collar.

The man shoved him away. Newt went stumbling back. Sonya grabbed his arm before he fell.

“What is it today?” The boy hissed.

“You think I’d let my wife’s murderer in my house?”

“I hate to have to say this, but you hit mum with your car.” Newt paused for a moment to take a deep breath. It was like setting his feet on the ground. “I’m 15. The closest thing I can drive to a car, is a motorcycle. And I can only rarely find one that I can steal-”

Sonya nudged her brother in the side. “He has a tunnel vision. He won’t understand.” Her teeth subtly clattered together. “Let me try something.”

Newt nodded and reluctantly took a step back.

Sonya cleared her throat. “Dad, may I please get in the house? I’m really tired after school today.” She said more clearly than he thought she would’ve.

“What did you just call me?” His voice dropped deeper.

Newt pulled his sister back behind him.

“You are not my daughter, and that boy is not my son. You are not my children. I have no children.”

Newt couldn’t help but feel cheated. His blood boiled so hard he could barely feel the cold of the rain anymore, leaving the drops hit his body only like blades falling from the sky. “You must be kidding.”

“Not in the slightest.” The determination was audible in his voice. There was no coming round.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Newt asked breathily. Tears began stinging his eyes while the man’s face stayed cold.

“You aren’t my children. You don’t belong here. Leave my property right this instant.”

He could feel his pulse throbbing in his temple.

Sonya clung to his arm like it was the last chance at hope. A tiny sob came through her trembling. “What?” She asked, trying get something else out. But nothing did.

“Are you really kicking us out? After everything that you put us through?”

“I didn’t put you through shit.”

“YES YOU DID!” The boy’s voice broke. “If you think that you didn’t put this family through anything, then you need to look into what a family is. You let two children take care of themselves. You spend your days passed out drunk on the couch! You were NEVER there!”

The man attempted to close the door.

Newt shoved his foot between the door and the wall.

“Leave.” He cracked the door barely enough to look through it.

“You know what?” Newt grabbed it and shoved it open. “We will do just that. If you can’t take the burden, then I will. You aren’t the loss here. I wish you a pleasant life, Garry.”

“Goodbye Newt. Goodbye Sonya.”

For a fleeting moment, Newt thought to see a spark of consciousness in his eyes. A spark that was perhaps regret, or something else. Something that made him look like he wasn’t drunk for a second.

The door slammed shut in their faces. It shook. The sound echoed. Hanging in the air like static. 

Sonya let herself fall on the porch. She leaned her head against the door and pulled her knees to her chest. “We’ll die.” She sobbed. “It’s just a matter of time.”

His own tears disguised by the glistening streaks left on his face by the rain. “We’ll be fine. I’ll find a way to fix this.” He knelt down and tried wiping her tears with his sleeve. It didn’t work as well as intended.

“How? We’ve got nothing. You can’t just… just threaten someone into letting us in. We’re already dead. There is no way we survive like this. Or… at least I won’t survive like this. We’re… children. You can’t ‘adult’ or kill our way out of this.” Sonya got out through sobs.

Newt’s chest tightened, cutting his breathing for a few seconds. Another shudder ran down his shoulders.

He pulled her in, the coldness of her clothes only worsening the freezing feeling nagging at his body. His grip tightened nonetheless.

A memory popped in his head.

“Newt, listen. If you’re ever in desperate need for help, call this number. They will help you.”

“Mum-”

“No time. Just tell her who you are and what is going on. This number is only for emergencies. Got it?”

“Mum-”

“Do you have it?”

“...yes.”

“Take this note. Keep it on you at all times. And don’t lie to them. Got it?”

“I got it.”

He was thirteen at the time, and never called the number. Until now.

Newt pulled away, standing back up. “I got an idea.” He took a step closer to the door, just where he wouldn’t be rained on. The phone’s screen was instantly wet when he pulled it out.

“What are you doing?” She asked softly.

“Mum gave me a number to call for moments like these. Perhaps they’ll be able to help.”

Sonya nodded and watched him as he leaned against the other part of the doorframe.

He carefully pulled the piece of paper out of his pocket with pinched fingers. The numbers were still readable. He typed the first numbers in. Keeping on glancing from his phone to the note almost manically. Newt suddenly felt himself aware of just how twisted his stomach felt. It made him feel sick. But not quite. Dizzy. But not fall over.

What if they won’t pick up? What if they switched numbers?

His fingers shook more with every number. He clenched his fist.

“Did… it not work?” Sonya’s voice was as small as humanly possible.

He swallowed hard. “We’ll see.”

Typing the last few numbers and hitting the call button was a mere blur. The phone buzzed in his hand.

He brought it up to his ear shakily. This had to work.

He could feel the vibrations in the depths of his earshell.

His pulse raised. A third ring.

The time between the rings seemed to grow longer. His vision blurred. Fourth ring.

Sonya looked up at him expectantly.

Please work.

Fifth ring. A shallow breath escaped his lips. All other sounds seemed to melt away. The sixth ring didn’t form. A click came from the other side.

“Hello?” A woman answered.

Newt sighed in relief, his hand flying to his chest and fisting his shirt.

Thank you.

The coldness crawling up his body was suddenly replaced with warmth.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” The soft-voiced woman sounded from the other side.

“Uh, yes.” Newt responded. “Hi, my name is Newt Isaacs. My mother is Thalia Isaacs. She told me to call this number.” Sonya looked up to him and sniffled. He gave her a genuine warm smile.

“Oh! It’s a pleasure to hear from you, Newt! Your mother was very excited when she first had you, she wouldn’t shut up about it!” The woman giggled. A sting formed in his eyes. “I haven’t heard from her in fourteen years. God, we should really catch up sometime. I have so much to tell her. But I guess the distance is really long too and- Oh, I’m talking too much again, aren’t I? I’m so sorry, sweety. But how’ve you all been?”

Newt pursed his lips together. “She…” His voice faltered. “She died four months ago...”

Silence came from the other side.

“Oh,” Her voice was barely louder than a squeak. “Was... was it painless at the very least?”

“Should’ve been.”

A soft sob came through the phone.

It would’ve been better if he hadn’t told her. It would’ve been easier for her.

Newt directed his eyes at the floor.

“Alright,” The woman was audibly trying to steady her voice. “I’m guessing she told you to call this number if you need help?”

He fiddled with his sleeve nervously. “Yeah, she did. We… need a place to stay.”

“Of course, sweetie, I’ll gladly help. I already offered to help when she moved in with that moron, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Does that mean that you’re helping us?”

Something between a sniffle and a giggle came from her. “Of course, where are you at the moment?”

Sonya’s eyes lit up, a speck of hope sparking. Sudden energy coursed through his veins.

“We’re in front of our house.” Newt told her. “Father kicked us out.”

A gasp.

“TOBIAS!” The woman called. “GET YOUR PHONE!” The words sounded muffled. She came back to the phone. “I’m so sorry this is happening to you. You deserve a better father.”

“We’re just glad we’re getting help,”

“Of course.” An intelligible murmur in a deeper, male voice came from the other side of the line. “Do you happen to have anyone with you? You keep talking about ‘we’?”

Newt waved his sister over to him. He pressed the speaker button as she got up. Sonya glanced between his phone and his face like she was asked to solve a maze.

“Say something.” He mouthed.

She shrugged, gesturing confusedly. Newt motioned towards the phone.

“Uh… hi?”

Newt sighed.

“Oh, hello, sweety.” The woman responded. “And who are you?”

Sonya looked her brother in the eyes.

“Just introduce yourself! You know how to do that!” He mouthed to her.

She looked down at the phone like it was on fire. “I’m Sonya.” She hesitated, and Newt waved his hand for her to continue. “Newt’s my older brother.” Sonya rubbed her upper arm, her teeth clattering for a moment.

“Sonya! Such a lovely name.”

A small smile formed on the girl’s face. “Thanks.”

“How I wish I would’ve gotten to meet you two earlier. Thalia never mentioned being pregnant again. How old are you, dear?”

“I’m thirteen.”

“That’s so nice, you’ve got your entire life ahead of you. I can already bet you’ll be a wonderful woman when you’ll grow up.”

She’s… so nice.

“Oh my, I just realised that I didn’t introduce myself. How impolite of me. You two can call me Ms. Lee or just Claudia.”

They exchanged glances for a moment, and Newt gave her a reassuring smile.

Perhaps it’ll be alright afterall.

“Thank you for helping us, Ms. Lee.” Newt said, his smile audible in his voice.

“Of course. Now you two, I need you two to go to the airport. I’ll take care of your plane tickets and send them to you, Newt. I’ll try to book two seats next to each other, but I can’t promise anything.”

Sonya shifted her weight back and forth, looking at the phone like she wanted to say something. He tilted it in her direction. “Ms. Lee, I have a question for you.” Sonya said, eyes on the mud puddle splashing with raindrops.

“Go on, sweety.”

“Where do you live?”

“The flight is sadly very long. We live in America.”

Sonya stopped swaying, and let out a quiet sniffle. “I always wanted to go to America.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. Their parents never wanted to go to America. Or well, anywhere, for that matter.

“I’m happy to hear that, dear. Me and my husband will be waiting for you two at the airport then, does that sound okay?”

Newt smiled. “That sounds perfect. Thank you, Ms. Lee.”

Chapter Text

Newt threw whatever he thought would be helpful into a suitcase. His heart beat in his throat as he zipped it shut. He looked around the room frantically.

Dang it! Dang it! Fuck!

He dragged it to his window, backpack slung over a shoulder. A list of documents ticked itself off in his mind. He wasn’t paying attention to it. Not properly. His mind just seemed to do it on its own. Perhaps for the worse. Newt opened the window as wide as possible, cold air and rain hitting him like knives. Misty clouds formed with his unsteady breaths. What if his father heard him when he ran from Sonya’s room? What if he heard him when he kept opening and closing closets?

Newt placed his foot steadily on the moist windowsill. He fixed and tightened his grip on the suitcase. His other arm slid into the bag’s strap. The fall wasn’t big. But he couldn’t just throw the suitcase down. He shifted his weight, pushing himself up onto the sill.

Please don’t ruin anything.

His left foot shifted on the edge. Searching for the grip to jump.

Suddenly he felt it again. The bittersweet feeling of snowflakes biting at his skin on the edge of that roof. He could still feel the ledge under his boots like it was happening all over again. His pulse spiked. The memory of feeling at the top of the world for the first time. Only to fall. To try to escape.

Newt shook his head, ripping himself back to reality. A breath was enough to get his own mind back. This wasn’t the same situation, and it never would be again. It was just his second story room’s window, and this time for the last time. Newt pushed himself off.

The rain only seemed to quicken his fall. Air rushed past his ears with an infernal rushing.

He landed. The suitcase hit his knee. He tried to cushion the fall. Failed. A jolt sent itself through his entire body. Sharp pain stroke his right leg. Newt winced, his knee giving out. His fingers wrapped tightly around his shin and squeezed his eyes shut. He tilted his head back as if that would relieve the pain. His eyelids felt too warm with the blood circling through and too pressured by the rain hitting them. Something in his shoulders shook, but he couldn’t make it out. A shaky breath left his mouth.

“Fuck!” Newt’s fist hit the side of the suitcase, barely hard enough to make it tilt. Having it fall over would only make this worse.

He gritted his teeth and grabbed the handle again. Every step felt like it came straight from hell. His limp was pronounced.

The corner of the house stopped blocking his view, and he saw his sister pacing back and forth on the sidewalk despite the rain, chewing her nails. Behind her stood a black taxi. She turned back in his direction, and her eyes lit up, hand falling to her side. Newt took another step towards the cab. The hair sticking to Sonya’s forehead tilted as she fell into a frown.

A tall man stepped out of the car.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he said, circling the cab to get to the trunk. “I’m sorry it took so long.” The lid flew open, missing his face by mere centimetres.

“It’s fine, kid. Don’t worry.” The driver reassured.

“Thanks.” He shoved the suitcase in, drops of water hitting the edge of the trunk. “Sonnie, get in already. I’ll be right there.” Newt fixed the way it sat in the busyness.

The door to the car slammed shut as Sonya got in the backseat.

“You need help?” The man asked, suddenly next to him.

Reaching above his head for the lid, Newt shook his head. His fingers hooked into the indent, met with the smoothness of the car. With a step back, he pulled it down and the slam seemed to bounce off the rain and back to him. “I got it.” Newt gave the trunk a little tap and got in next to Sonya, putting the bag on the floor between his feet.

The driver’s door also shut. “Where are you guys headed to?” The engine roared to life.

“The airport.” Newt responded. His feet pressed against the bag nervously. What could he possibly respond if he asked more questions?

The man glanced at them through the mirror, but pulled out of the parking place. “All alone?”

“Yeah,” Newt tapped his fingers on his knee unrhythmically. “We’re visiting extended family.”

“Mh-hm. Your parents know about this?”

Newt and Sonya glanced at each other. “Uh, yeah,” she took her shoes off and turned, so her back was to the door. “They sent us.”

“That’s nice.”

It looked as if the road was engulfed by fog, not just rain. Loud clacks sounded through the car each time another raindrop landed on the windshield, and the wipers seemed to struggle keeping up. The driver seemed completely calm. “Say, where does this extended family of yours live?”

Newt felt his muscles tense. “I… don’t really see why that concerns you.”

“Not very talkative you two, now are you?”

“Not really.” He responded before Sonya could open her mouth.

Silence followed.

Sonya closed her eyes, shifting in her seat and stretching her legs out, on Newt’s lap. He leaned his head back, against the seat, carefully watching the rain streak their way down the car window. The lines were uneven and running subtly to the side, blown by the wind. Sonya shifted again, putting a heel on his shoulder, like that would help her fall asleep. She turned to face her seat, almost getting tangled in the seatbelt. Her leg fell from Newt’s shoulder to behind his back. It forced him to bend forward uncomfortably with her other food digging into his stomach.

“Sonnie, would you keep your legs to yourself? You really don’t need to torture me to sleep.” He grumbled.

She groaned and pulled her legs back, sitting up, still facing him. “Fine. If you won’t let me sleep, tell me why you were more limpy than usually.”

Newt rolled his eyes. As if it wasn’t obvious enough. “I landed badly. Come on, you should’ve expected that. I can’t bloody jump properly with a thing half my size in my hands.”

“Whatever, nothing surprises me anymore after today.” Sonya’s voice quietened, turning her back to him and leaning back, bringing her knees to her chest. He adjusted his shoulder to make it more comfortable for her. “I… didn’t think this would ever happen. Any of this. We… we were happy when we were small… right?”

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to comfort her. To tell her that everything would get better. But he couldn’t. He wasn’t even sure if they were ever happy. There wasn’t a day that was entirely good. “I don’t know.” He placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

Sonya nodded. “Are… those all?” She asked.

Newt took a glance at the bag at his feet. “Documents. You know. Legal crap. Our things are in the suitcase.”

“Is all of it there?” Her hand twitched towards the bag.

“Should be.” He felt tears start to form in his eyes, and looked up, blinking rapidly. They faded.

Sonya shifted against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut and muscles relaxing. Her breathing slowed down, becoming more regulated as her eyes fully closed.

Newt’s thoughts swirled like in a pot. Lies to get through security and at the border. The tedious airport and flight. Something about how the raindrops rolled down and just thinking felt comforting, despite the situation. His head fell against the window. It was cold, but also just perfect. Without even noticing, his eyes started closing.

***

“Children, come on, wake up. We arrived at the airport.” The unknown voice of a man spoke in a tone Newt just couldn’t quite make out.

A chilly breeze swept across his face, moving a strand of hair out of his eyes.

“Come on, you have to wake up.”

His hand twitched. All his tired instincts screamed at him to reach for the throat. Newt balled his fists with restraint. He reluctantly opened his eyes and groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“You were really tired, huh?”

The boy nodded and opened his eyes properly, eyeing the man up and down.

“Well, it’s about, uh…” He checked the watch on his wrist. “Nine thirty, and uh, I would like to get home. Could you please wake her up?” The man asked kindly, pointing at Sonya.

Newt glanced at her and put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a light shake.

She groaned and hit his hand off her shoulder. “Just five more minutes.” Sonya grumbled.

He pursed his lips together, a light feeling of regret growing in him. Newt shook her again.

“Stop,” She whined.

“Sonnie, wake up.” He whispered to her softly, giving her another soft nudge.

“Just… five more minutes… I’ll hurry today… I promise.” She turned further into the seat. “And close the window, it’s like six in the morning. I’m freezing.”

“I didn’t open the window, Sonnie, and it’s not six in the morning.”

“Then whatever hour it is, I don’t care. I wanna sleep. Can we not go to school today? I had this really realistic dream, it was really weird. It was that we had to move to America now, because of dad.” Newt’s hand fell from her shoulder as she turned to face him, the feeling of regret only growing. Rubbing her eyes, Sonya threw a look around. Disappointment drenched her face more than the rain had her clothes. “Oh.” Her voice was quiet.

“Come on, the plane won’t wait for us.” The fake smile came out crooked and obvious. “Thank you very much for the ride, sir. How much does it cost?” Newt asked the cab driver, getting out.

The man hesitated. He sighed and shook his head. “It’s on the house. You'll need it if what I just overheard is true.”

Both of them looked at the man in disbelief. Newt’s heart beat faster, dreading the wait for him to say a price. He had to say the price, right?

The man didn’t say it.

Sonya’s eyes lit up, and she pulled him into a hug. “Thank you so much!” She exclaimed.

The man’s face was plastered with a warm smile. He patted her on the back. “Of course. I can’t make you two pay. I’d never bear to see my children in such a position.”

Newt took one look before deciding that Sonya was safe, and went to the trunk, grabbing the suitcase.

“How old are they?” He heard his sister ask.

“They turned 12 a week ago. They’re actually twins.”

“Could you please tell them happy birthday from me?”

“I’ll do that. I’m sure they would’ve loved meeting you.”

Newt closed the trunk, making his way back to them. He looked between Sonya and the man. “We should go,” he said, glancing at the driver’s watch. “Our plane takes off soon.” He rubbed two fingers together, as if that would’ve made the uncomfortable feeling of his sweaty palms disappear.

“Safe travels, you two. Good luck.”

“Thank you for everything you did for us, sir, I wish you all the best for the future.”

“Goodbye, I hope everything works out for you!” Sonya followed.

They stepped into the airport, onto those beige tektonik-like tiles, polished to the point of being comparable to mirrors. Metal chairs, nailed to the floor, were scattered through the colossal room, often occupied by people or luggage.

Sonya turned around and waved at the driver.

Newt pulled his phone out, checking the plane tickets. He scrunched his nose.

Jesus bloody christ, can’t they make any of this understandable?

Sonya looked over his shoulder, and then up at the board, at least ten times as big as them, hung on a towering column reaching to the ceiling.

Where in the world does it say where we have to go?

Her breath caught.

Newt looked up. “What i-”

“Gate! Gate! Come on!” Sonya shouted, pointing at the screen. Newt’s eyes scanned it for their flight. “Wha-” She grabbed his arm and started running. It took him a moment to stop stumbling and start running. The suitcase kept hitting his shins. “Sonya?!”

“Gate seven! 35 minutes!”

“Just say that the next time!”

“I hope there is no next time!”

Every second they had to waited, made Newt’s pulse rise further. The luggage claim appeared into view. The screen displaying the words British Airways turned black. Newt swung the bag off his shoulder. He threw it at Sonya. She caught it.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Newt shouted, ducking under the stanchion.

“And I thought I could go on break.” The woman sighed.

Newt ignored her. He put the suitcase on the conveyor belt as quickly as possible. Sonya appeared next to him, panting, holding the bag. She slapped the documents on the counter.

The woman rolled her eyes, but checked them anyway.

“So… uh… what did you pack?” Sonya asked, still catching her breath.

“Pretty much everything we need, don’t worry.”

“Shirts?”

“Obviously.”

“Pants?”

“Sonnie, I said I got everything.”

“Shoes?”

“I swear to bloody-”

“You got me skirts, right?”

In the end, she looked more satisfied than Newt felt sane.

The woman slid the documents across the counter annoyedly. “Have a plea-” Newt grabbed them and ran off.

“Thanks, sorry, bye!” Sonya shouted over her shoulder, following her brother.

***

Getting through security and boarding the plane was nothing short of painful. Newt kept glancing at clocks hanging on the walls, his dread only growing with every move of the watch hands. Every question ticked him off further. To the point that even the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above-head made him grit his teeth. They boarded the plane with two minutes left before it closed. All the seats looked like they were taken when they got in, too many people in too little space. With every passing seat, Newt glanced at the little legroom.

How do some people even do this on the regular?

He pulled his phone out and looked at their seat numbers. 55D. 55E.

Once they got to their seats, they found someone sitting on one of them, the one at the aisle.

“Uh, excuse me? Ma’am? I think you might be sitting in one of our seats.” The boy said surprisingly politely. He felt his blood boiling. After everything from the day, this was the absolute last thing he wanted to deal with. Sonya looked at him in surprise, clearly unaware of his knuckles turning white from how tight he gripped the bag’s strap.

“Hm.” The woman on the seat turned the page to a magazine, barely acknowledging their presence.

“Excuse me.” His voice grew more determined. The woman looked up at them through the corner of her eye. “You. Are. Sitting. In. Our. Seats. I would appreciate it if you would just get up already, and take your own seat.”

She hummed, looking away again. “This is my seat now.” Her voice was just as annoying as her presence. The woman popped her gum.

Newt sighed, running a hand through his hair. He shook his head, looking down the aisles as if that would help the situation. His other hand twitched towards his waist. The place his knife always was. He balled his fist with restraint.

Sonya spoke up tiredly. “Ma’am, we’re really sorry if we inconvenience you in any way, but-”

“Well, you do, now shoo!”

The boy’s eye twitched. “Could you get someone?” He whispered to his sister.

Just as he finished his sentence, like summoned, a flight assistant stepped next to them, wearing the same dark blue uniform as the others, her black hair tied in a bun. “Is there a problem?” There was a strain in her voice, like this wasn’t the first incident on this flight.

“This woman is sitting in our seats and refuses to get up.” Sonya explained.

The flight assistant nodded and pushed past her, to stand in front of the other woman. “Ma’am, I’ll have to ask you to get up.”

“And why should I do that?”

“Because these two nice teens booked the seats and thus, they belong to them.”

“And what will you do if I refuse?”

The flight assistant looked like she wanted nothing more than to slap her, but held herself back. “Ma’am, if you don’t cooperate, I’ll have to call security.”

“And what will they do? Hm?” The seatrat flipped through her magazine.

“They will escort you out of the plane.”

She hummed like none of this mattered to her, ignoring the flight attendants starting to gather around the commotion. Every argument made by anyone seemed to just bounce off her like the most nonsensical thing. She kept rolling her eyes so much, they were close to getting stuck into the back of her head.

One of the flight assistants called security at some point Newt couldn’t tell. The seatrat tried fighting getting dragged off the plane, but only ended up looking ridiculous.

“We’re so sorry for the inconvenience,” the first flight attendant told them, tired. “Please take your seats now. The plane will take off soon.”

Newt shoved the bag under the seat in front. “Thanks, Ma’am.”

“Thank you,” Sonya chimed after her. She pushed past her brother and took the seat in the middle.

“Hey!” He complained. She stuck her tongue out. Something behind his eyes hurt from how hard he rolled them as he dropped down in his seat, securing his seatbelt with a click.

The girl took a glance and copied, another click sounding. “This is weird.”

“Tell me about it.”

Seemingly out of nowhere, a voice boomed through the speakers, coming from all directions at once. “Dear passengers, this is your captain speaking. I would like to inform you that we expect a twenty-minute delay.”

Newt flinched as a wave of boos and annoyed groans filled the plane. “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” A man from the front shouted, throwing his arms in the air. “Very capable.” Sarcasm came from one of the seats on the right.

Newt also groaned, a combination of tiredness and weakness hitting his neck. He hit his head against the seat in front of him with a plastic sound, unsure if it was voluntarily or not. Doesn’t matter. He told himself. Another, smaller hit, just to make sure it was voluntary. Soreness overtook the spot like a headache, and Newt slumped against the seat in front of him.

“Stop doing that,” Sonya tilted her head. “It’s unhealthy.”

He hit his head lightly against the foldable table and a cocky smirk spread on his face. “I’ve done unhealthier.”

The plane remained in place for the next half hour. Or maybe it was an hour. He’d lost track of time once he started listening to the conversations happening around him.

A jolt ran through the aircraft. Everyone’s bodies swayed along, and it started moving at long last.

Sonya glanced at her brother, eyes glinting with expectation. Newt gave her a crooked smile.

The plane sped up, and Sonya leaned forward, looking out the right window like a curious puppy. Loud slams echoed through the quicker it got. It took off. The slamming stopped, like the air had finally decided to muse them. A feeling like a comforting void wringed his thoughts.

“So, this is it.” Sonya stared at the other takeoff tracks, her voice carrying a hint of sadness. “If you’d’ve told me six months ago that this would happen, I would’ve called a psychologist on you.” 

***

The luggage pick-up area seemed to spread towards the horizon, pillars in a straight line, and conveyor belts arranged just behind them. People crowded the belts like animals at a feeding.

“How do you think they are?” Sonya asked what might’ve been the fortieth question, eyes were on the bag dangling in her hands.

“Honestly,” An involuntary smile made its way onto his lips. “I don’t know. But we’ll be safe.” Just as they stopped in front of a conveyor belt displaying their flight number, it started with the mechanic sound of a machine moving. Suitcases of all sizes and colours came on, most in good condition. “I’ll be right back. Call me if ours comes.” Sonya nodded.

Newt distanced himself a bit from the noisy bunch. “Hello, Ms. Lee,” he spoke into the phone. “I just wanted to tell you that we arrived.”

“Oh, of course!” The woman’s voice chimed from the other end of the line. “Don’t worry, we’ve been here for thirty minutes.”

“Oh.”

“No, no, don’t rush yourself, it’s alright. Take your time.”

“Thank you, Ms. Lee. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” He barely got to hang up before-

“Newt?” Sonya’s voice was strained with suppressed panic.

He turned, and approached. “Yeah? What is it?” Newt stopped in his tracks.

The empty conveyor belt kept rolling. Each second could be felt ticking by. A spot where a sticker was ripped off dragged by. The bag had to come. It was just one thing. Something about the uneven surface of the conveyor belt made his skin crawl. They were the last people left at this one. A lump formed in his throat as a cold air seemed to brush by. Too few people were in the room. Much less than you’d expect from an airport as big as Denver’s. The remains of the sticker returned. The screen showcasing the flight flicked to black, before lighting up with a new flight number.

“You must be bloody kidding!” Newt groaned, burying his face in his hands. His fingers found a strand of hair, and hooked into it. He pulled. A twisted feeling of comfort instantly hit him. He wasn’t even concerned, he knew that they could find their lost luggage again, but he couldn’t help but feel like it could’ve just... not.

In the next half hour, Newt dragged his sister through the entire airport, until they got their suitcase back. It hadn’t been taken off the plane.

“You still didn’t have enough arguing back home? Do you really have to continue here too?” Sonya rubbed her eyes annoyedly, her exhaustion clearer than she would’ve liked it. She barely got any sleep on the plane.

Newt shrugged. “It gets fun after a while, you know? You get used to it. Kinda like a drug,” a muscle in his arm twitched at his own words. “But I’ll try to tone it down. Can’t promise anything.”

“Of course you can’t, I’d call you a liar.” “Fair.” “I don’t have to tone anything down. I’m not a danger to society.” Sonya responded, flipping her hair at the last part.

Newt chuckled, and raised a hand to cover his mouth.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked his messages. We’re waiting at the entrance Ms. Lee had texted him.

“So?”

“Entrance, I guess.”

“How will we recognise them?”

“Luck?”

They approached the entrance, and the closer they got, the more watched he felt. Even though no one was looking at them. Just the idea of being in this entirely new country, meeting strangers, and being taken in. It sent shudders down his spine.

“Oh, hello, children!” A tall and skinny Asian woman, wearing a floral dress, greeted, waving, to get their attention. A slightly shorter man stood next to her.

Newt tensed, glancing at his sister. Uncertainty hung in her eyes.

This better be a good decision.

Sonya followed him towards them. Each step made his body dread the next more.

What if it isn’t them?

“I’m so glad you found us,” the woman greeted, looking between the two with a smile. “Please, call me Claudia.”

Newt hesitated before extending his hand for her to shake. “Thank you for what you’re doing for us, Ms L- Claudia.” The woman chuckled and waved her hand like it wasn’t anything. She pulled him into a hug. He flinched. Claudia didn’t seem to notice, and just pulled away, putting her hands on his shoulders.

“Really, it’s nothing. We’re glad to have you two, right Tobias?” She looked at the man. He was staring around the airport. “Right, Tobias?” The woman’s voice hardened, Tobias’s attention snapping to her in an instant, eyes wide.

“Yeah, yeah, of course!”

Claudia sighed. “Just don’t mind him, he had a long day at work.”

Newt nodded, and her hands left his shoulders, pulling Sonya into a hug too.

The girl couldn’t hesitate melting into her arms and hugging back. She nuzzled into the woman like she was the mother she never had. Claudia stroked her hair fondly. They didn’t look even remotely similar. But it looked like they were mother and daughter. “You look exactly like Thalia did when we were your age.” Sonya didn’t respond, and only tightened her grip. Her chest heaved with a silent sob.

Just at the sight, Newt’s chest hurt with sorrow after something he never got to have. All the wasted years. All the missed smiles. It was the first time he realized just how close he was to something like that. How close everyone was to having something like that. He choked back tears.

It’ll be right, now.

Claudia gently let go of Sonya, like she was unsure if she’d still be intact if she let go. The girl dragged her fist across her eye, not quite rubbing, as Claudia held her in a sideway hug. “We should get to the car, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, let me get that for you.” Tobias took a step towards Newt, reaching for the suitcase.

He took a step back and pulled it behind his back instinctively. “I can manage, but thanks.”

“Whatever you say, kid.” 

***

The city lights rushed past like streaks, and it didn’t feel like it would be a long drive. The car wasn’t decorated, apart from the car air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror, swinging back and forth unrhythmically. A light silence draped itself over them like a warming blanket. Everything about this felt easier for some reason Newt couldn’t quite place.

“How much time did you get?” Claudia asked, turning around to look at them in the back.

Sonya scrunched her nose. “Huh?”

“A month.” Newt’s stomach churned. “Then our time would… be over.”

“What does that mean?”

“Alright, then.” She turned back to sit right in her chair, sitting too straight. The tension in her posture was clear as glass. The woman swallowed hard. “We’ll just say you’re exchange students. We can go further from there.”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Just another lie. At least they would be safe for as long as it lasted. But then again, exchange programs weren’t life-long. It would only postpone the inevitable- No. Don’t think about that. We’ll find a way.

“Context, please?” Sonya asked, looking from one to the other.

Claudia sighed. “Well, you’ll live with us.”

The blonde blinked. “Right.”

“And well, you’re only visitors, according to documents. So after a month, it’s illegal for you to still be here.”

He didn’t even want to say anything, and it still felt like the words were cut out of his throat.

“Oh.” Sonya intertwined her own fingers tightly, to hide the shaking in her hands.

“We’ll manage.” Newt somehow got out.

Silence followed again, this time heavier. The previously comforting wind whooshing past the car suddenly became just another burden, like it wanted to mock him too. Fifteen years of torment. Almost sixteen. And it still wasn’t over. Just a little lighter. And yet, he couldn’t help but wonder. They were mostly safe, now. But how was he supposed to just forget every habit and instinct that burned itself into his brain? How as he supposed to just leave the addicting thrill of danger and illegality behind, when it was even harder to quit than a drug?

An awkward chuckle came from the driver’s seat. “You know, our son, Minho, is around your age. You two should manage to get along pretty well with him. He seems like a mean boy at first, but he’s a sweetheart.”

The man continued telling them about this Minho for the rest of the car ride, and it turned out that Newt would end up sharing a room with him. From all he said, he sounded enjoyable to be around. It was only left to find out if he was actually as great as his father made him out to seem. 

***

An Asian boy around Newt’s age ripped the door open.

Minho, probably. He guessed.

“Hi-” Minho cut himself off. He glanced at his parents, before back to the two. “Uh, what?” His hand fell from the doorknob like it would’ve helped making sense of anything.

Newt looked him up and down once. He was wearing loose, grey sweatpants and a black tank top, displaying his muscles like set on a pedestal.

“Minho, Newt and Sonya.” Claudia said, motioning at the brits and entering the house.

“Uh-huh,” the boy stepped back from the door, letting them in. “So who are they?”

“Exchange students.”

“What?”

“They’re exchange students from England and will stay here.”

Minho whipped around to them with wide eyes and back to his mother, pointing vaguely in their direction. “You signed me up for an exchange?” He sounded more in disbelief than angry.

Newt looked around the hallway, and the family pictures hung on the walls. The stairs to the second story were just to the side. Warmth seemed to reach every corner of the house.

“Minho, don’t be rude.” The woman warned.

“I’m not trying to be rude, I just didn’t know we had… an exchange.” He shrugged, turning to the siblings. “Whatever. British, you said?”

“Yeah,” Newt placed his shoes in a corner, still eyeing the pictures on the walls. “Don’t worry, we’re not as bad as people keep saying.”

Minho chuckled, and only then did Newt notice that Tobias was already gone. “As long as you don’t act like you’re better than us just ‘cause you’re European.” He joked.

“We’re not that type of people.”

Sonya cleared her throat dramatically, taking a step forward. Minho blinked confusedly at her. “I’m Sonya.” She started, extending her hand.

Oh bloody no.

“Hi?”

“And I’ll be your annoying little sister too from now on.” Her smile was way too wide to be casual, and something on Minho’s face looked more confused with every word that came out of her mouth, despite shaking her hand. “Don’t worry, I don’t break stuff, though. And do you play cards?”

“Uh…sure?” Minho arched a brow. “You’re, uh, very British.”

Newt covered his mouth and turned away, silently wheezing. Sonya frowned. “Is that an insult?”

“No, no, no,” The Asian boy said quickly, putting his hands in the air in surrender. “I was just saying it’s a nice breath of fresh air.”

“So now I’m air?”

“No! I, uh, didn’t mean it like that, I meant that it’s nice.”

“Calm down, she’s just playing you.” Newt said, the laugh still in his voice.

“Oh.”

Claudia smiled fondly, arms crossed, like she knew that everything would end well. “Alright, you two,” She said. “I bet you’re tired from the flight. Sonya, sweetie, would you want to take the guest room?”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “I get my own room?”

“Well, of course, unless your brother minds sharing.”

Newt waved his hand. “Anything’s alright with me.”

“In that case, yes, you could have the guestroom all to yourself.”

Sonya squealed and threw herself at the woman. “Thank you so much!”

“Of course, a young lady deserves her privacy. Min, could you please show them where they’ll be sleeping? They’ll go to school too, tomorrow.”

Minho nodded, and grabbed the suitcase before Newt got to stop him. “Let me take that, don’t want your twink bones to break, right?” He winked and went up the stairs.

Pardon me?

“He’s right where he’s right.” Sonya giggled and followed quickly.

“You’ll regret that!”

“Doubt I will!”

After he showed Sonya her room, which she couldn’t have loved more, he showed Newt theirs. It was bigger than back in London, with track medals and pictures with people he guessed where Minho’s friends, on the walls. And a bunk bed. For some reason. Clothes laid on the floor, draped all over the chair at the desk and at the foot of the unmade bottom bunk. A faint smell of salty chips hung in the air.

“Sorry for the mess. I wasn’t expecting a roommate anytime soon,” Minho placed the suitcase in a corner, and started picking up a few clothes off the floor and tossing them in the closet. “The bottom bunk is mine, by the way.”

Newt’s eyes wandered through the room again. “How come the bottom bunk? You don’t seem like the type of guy.”

“Well,” the bed squeaked as he dropped down with a leg folded under him. “I love the top bunk, and used it a lot as a child. It’s just fun. But lately I’ve kept hitting my head on the ceiling. I can proudly say that I’m growing. But you shouldn’t have any problem with sleeping up there.”

“What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Look at yourself.”

Newt looked down at himself once, before back to the other boy. “What’s supposed to be wrong with me? I’m tall.”

“You just don’t look like you’re strong enough to knock yourself out. With a ceiling.”

“Rude, much.” He rolled his eyes, and dropped down next to Minho. “At least enlighten me why you’ve got a bunk bed.”

“Boredom.”

“Pardon me?”

“We went bed-buying, and I threw a tantrum to get this one. I was… oddly obsessed with bunk beds.” He sounded weirdly proud of the story. Minho’s father was wrong about him. He was even better than he made him out to be. “But it really paid off,” he continued. “When we were kids, me and Thomas always played pirates or other things like that on this bed.”

The blond tilted his head. “Thomas?”

“Yeah, he’s my best friend. You’ll love him. He also has a little sister, you know? But I won’t spoil anything. You have to meet him tomorrow.”

Thomas, huh?