He felt upset and exhausted and angry, but mostly guilty. Newt might have been feeling bad before he got to the bakery, but he felt even worse when he left because he didn't like being the cause of the sad look in Thomas's eyes, he didn't like to make the boy feel worried. He had tried to act like normal when he arrived at the bakery, he had tried to feel better, because the reason why he had gone there was because he knew Thomas would be able to make him feel better (and also because he had to get away from home), but he hadn't been able to do it. He tried so hard, but was too upset to even fake being happy.
The guilt was making him feel sick in his stomach and he wished he could go back and tell Thomas everything but he wasn't able to talk about it yet. He was too upset and exhausted to talk to anyone about it. All he wanted was for it to disappear like it never happened.
It didn't disappear. When he stepped into his house, the voice he heard before he left was still there. A voice that reminded him of his childhood, a voice that used to tell him what to do and how to be like, a voice that reminded him of the yelling and the fighting, a voice that reminded him of the way he used to hide under his blanket with his baby sister in his arms.
He wanted to run. He never wanted to face the person who sat in the kitchen, but he had to get inside to see if his mother and sister were alright. He had already been gone for twenty minutes, who knows what might have happened while he was gone?
Walking into the kitchen, he found his mother by the coffee machine, her shaking hands pressing a button to start it, and Newt noticed the small sigh that escaped her when she saw that the barely used coffee machine worked.
Newt walked over to her and helped her get a cup, not wanting to risk that she might drop it due to the shakiness of her fingers. She gave him a smile and Newt examined her for a while, seeing the hint of nervousness in her eyes, and a confusion because just like Newt, she was probably wondering what the man by the table behind them were doing in their house after not showing his face for five years.
Newt pressed his lips to his mother's forehead before he turned to leave the kitchen. He ignored the man. He didn't give him a single look. He treated him as if the man wasn't there, as if he was nothing, and that was all he was to Newt. Nothing.
Just as his foot took a step outside the kitchen, the man spoke, his voice dark but with a hint of amusement, as if he knew he was annoying his son, as if he knew he wasn't wanted and thought it was fun to mess with the boy.
"Where did you run off to?"
Newt didn't turn because the man he once called dad didn't deserve a single percent of his attention, not even a single look.
"That's none of your business," Newt replied in a hiss, gripping the doorframe with his hand.
"I think you've forgotten who's in charge here, boy. I'm your father and it is my business to know where you disappear to."
Newt wasn't able to keep the anger inside of himself. His patience was at its breaking point. His veins were swelling, getting closer to the edge of exploding. He spun around, looking for the first time since he came back home at the man who sat leaned back in a chair with a devilish grin on his lips.
Jaw clamped tight and teeth grinding, Newt took a step closer to the table, ready to burst. However, when he glanced at his mother who stood watching them with big worried eyes, her hands covering her mouth, he calmed down a little. He knew she didn't want any fights, he knew she wanted them become a normal family again. That's what she had told him yesterday night before he went to bed, that she wanted him to give his father a chance because maybe he had changed. Newt knew how much his mother wanted them to be a happy family again, but their family had never been a happy normal one so he didn't believe it was possible for them to become one. Truth to be told, he didn't want them to become one. He never wanted to see the face of the man he was supposed to call father ever again.