Sacrilege (Newtmas AU)

Chapter 14

Once Thomas was back in his room, he quickly shoved the amulet in the back pocket of his jeans and made his way out of his room, into the corridor. As he downed the stairs, he stared forward, jaw clenched and hands turned into a tight fist. Before he even got to the last step of the staircase, he leaned back against the soft, white, designed concrete wall and inhaled a deep breath.

What could he even say? How did he feel? It was like he was living in a lie his entire life. Ever since he was little, he was always taught of how angels were always carrying, and how there was no trace of wickedness within them. That was the person that he wanted to become; A caring, loving guardian angel. But how could he, now that he finally found out that all that he believed in was lies?

What did you expect? His subconscious screamed at him. In return, he winced as hot tears started to moisture in the corner of his eyes. His idol, the only guardian angel that he looked up to was wicked to the core. At first, he didn't believe Newt when he said that he was the one in charge of everything in the prison-like hell, but when he actually showed him the marks that he had left. . . How could he ever doubt him? How could he have ever trusted Michael? How could he lecture Newt for not trusting him when he didn't trust him himself?

He let out the breath he had previously taken through the nose and reopened his eyes. When out of the shadowing comfort that the staircase offered, he walked towards the light of the kitchen, his stomach a tight knot, where he saw his mother sat across the round wooden table drinking her usual coffee. His hands played with the hem of his shirt, filling the black fabric that Newt had given him the previous night full of stretch marks.

As nervousness kicked in, Thomas swallowed hard. The knot on his stomach seemed to co-exist in his throat as well as every swallow seemed equally as hard as digging. He had no plan. He didn't know what to say for an explanation as to why he had gone missing for a night. Everything seemed to be a messy knot in his head through which it was impossible to see, but what he did know, was that he craved for an answer. And with a little bit of luck and a little bit of hope, he would manage to get an satisfying explanation he knew his mother had.

The moment he had taken one single step into the tiled floor of the kitchen and into his mother's sight, he regretted it on an instant. His mother's eyes stayed glued to his; no sigh of emotion—rage, sadness, relief, even worry—was registered on her face and to be completely honest, that was what scared him the most.

Thomas didn't loose his posture. His mother pulled the cup filled with coffee away from her lips and waved to a chair. "Sit. We need to talk."

Thomas did as he was told, but not without gripping the pentagram amulet in his hand. To him it was sacred; it was protection. It was like having a part of Newt comforting him right there and then.

"What is it?" He asked in a monotone and low voice. He seemed to have a clue on what the conversation might have been about and that was more upsetting than anything that had happened both this morning and the night before. More upsetting than the butterflies that he seemed to get in his stomach when Newt would hug him to his body when he slept. His mother remained quiet. "Mom?"

"Are you seeing someone?" His mother blurred out. Her fingertips gripped the porcelain cup of tea tightly but her face remained emotionless.

Thomas' eyes widened in horror. "W-What?" He stuttered. His heart started to beat a thousand times per second and no matter how hard he tried to keep her calm, he failed dramatically. "What makes you say that?"

"You snick out at night." She said. "You've been absent in most of your classes, I don't see you in home most of the time." She continued with a big frown. "They called me from school, Thomas. They say that you've been acting strange. Everything points to that direction."