Fingerprints

Thirteen

Newt shot a last grin at the two boys as he limped away from the car. He crossed the road and wandered up his drive. Placing his hand on the door handle, he took a deep breath. He creaked it open slowly, praying that Mark was asleep, or not in. The blond slipped into the dark house, closing the door as softly as he could, before turning back around. He jumped back in surprise to see Mark sat at the table, staring at him intently.

"Where have you been?" He asked.

"With some friends. We went into town." Newt swallowed, trying to calm his shaking hands.

"Who?" Mark stood up, forcing his boyfriend to look up.

"Thomas. My...my partner, and his brother." He breathed. Mark circled him like a shark, staring into his soul.

"You're very close to that Thomas." He hissed. Newt stared at his feet and gave him a teeny nod. "Are you cheating on me Newt, is that what's happening here?" He asked, clearly looking for any excuse to raise his voice. Newt shook his head. "I'm sorry?"

"No Mark." he whispered.

"Speak up!" He ordered. Newt looked up at him.

"No Mark." he repeated more firmly. Mark growled and grabbed him by the throat.

"Don't lie to me you fucking whore." he spat into the blond's face, who just squeezed his eyes shut and tried to squirm away. The huge man threw him to the floor, his back cracking against the kitchen counter. Newt yelped in pain, falling to the hard, cold floor. He curled up and prayed that it swallowed him up. Mark soon had him dragged upward by the arm, shoving him toward the table he'd previously been sat at. A vase was knocked off, shattering on the ground with a defending crash.The brit found himself on his back, staring up at his furious boyfriend, leering over him. Large hands grabbed at him, pushing him and shoving. Newt tripped over his foot, falling face first into a wall. He felt it crack beneath the weight, warm liquid starting to flow downward. Blood trickled from his nose, and he looked up helplessly at the mark of red he'd left on the wall.

"You idiot! Look what you've done!" Mark pulled him upward, grabbing him by the chin and forcing his face upward, fearful eyes meeting enraged ones. The blood trickled into his mouth, dripping down into his throat. He kicked out, scrambling away from the angry man. Crawling away, he managed to make it a few feet before he felt an impact with his side. He gasped in shock and pain, glancing around for anything. A piece of glass from the vase lay next to him, and he scooped it up with shaking hands. Newt gripped it tightly, lashing out toward the leg. Mark growled and slammed his heavy boot down onto Newt's hand, trapping it between the floor,the glass and his boot. The blond cried out in pain as the glass sliced into his skin, immediately curling up inward on the ground. A boot met his stomach again and again, knocking more wind, and more fight out of Newt with every strike. He gave up. 'You deserve this Newt. He's doing you a favour. You don't deserve anyone better, anyone who will make you happy. You don't deserve to be happy. You-'

The kicking stopped, and Newt risked a glance up. He saw strong hands pulling Mark away. The violent man turned on his heel, his face met with Thomas's fist. Mark stumbled backward, before taking a blind swing back at Thomas, who easily dodged it and punched him again. This time Mark stumbled, and kept stumbling. He fell to the floor, bloody nose and unconscious. Newt stared with wide eyes at Thomas, the light behind him making him look like some holy god who had just created world peace, who carefully and slowly, came over to him, crouching down to his level.

"Hey, it's ok Newt. Your ok. Go get your shit. We're leaving in two." He said sternly, helping his friend to his feet. New just shook his head, bewilderment turning to rage. "Yes, come on Newt, before he gets back." He urged.