All Over Again

by tomfl0ps

Summary:

The blue haired man was so deep in thought he didn’t hear the door to the cafe swing open, or the little tinkling of the bell above it, he didn’t feel the gust of wind swish around him and neither did he hear the footsteps clicking against the wooden floor, but he certainly heard the awkward cough and the deep, stammered “Hey.. excuse me-”.

 

Or alternatively, Sal and Travis bump into each other for the first time since high school and decide to put their past behind them. What will happen between them now that they are older, more mature and more confident?

Notes:

hihihi thanks for clicking on this fic !!

i lowkey started writing this 2 years ago and then completely forgot about it

but i have had the entire storyline planned out in my head for years so i hope you enjoy :P i haven’t written in a while so forgive me if im a little rusty

Chapter 1: meet

He drummed his fingers on the sticky oak counter that he leaned against, waiting for the familiar gentle ring of the bell above the door to signal a new rush of mothers and young children in pushchairs entering for a cup of coffee and a rainy Tuesday afternoon gossip.

He felt a bit embarrassed really, being nearly 24 and still spending his days cleaning down the stained wooden tables of the same cafe since he was in college, whilst other people his age were getting married and having children, but at least Sal knew he could make a good coffee. Over the years he’d come to the conclusion that having a fucked up face and one, half-working eye made it the only somewhat suitable job for him, despite his many close-calls with being fired. 

It seemed to be an exceptionally quiet day, as opposed to the usual hustle and bustle of the little green shop, but today there was only a group of elder women sitting by the front window and a student at a corner table, eyes glued to a withering textbook, with faint music spilling from their headphones. Sal decided to busy himself by restacking the shelves of coffee beans behind the counter for the eighth time today, hoping none of the customers could see him using a mini step ladder to reach the top shelf. Being five-foot-six really did not help his case in convincing every new person he met that he was in fact , an adult man, not a fourteen year old girl. 

He let his mind drift away as he continued his stacking, thinking about the reunion with his highschool friends that was coming up in a few weeks. Some of them he still saw often, like Larry, obviously, his brother who he shared an apartment with on the outskirts of the city, and Chug and Maple with their adorable little daughter, Soda, who he saw every couple of weeks everytime he and Larry visited their parents back in Nockfell. The others, he did not get to see at all, save the biannual meet-ups and the occasional surprise visits. After college, Todd and his boyfriend Neil moved out of their shared house with Sal and up to Washington, as Todd had taken up some secretive sciencey job for the government that no one really understood, giving the two almost no time to visit their friends. Ash had gone to an art college two cities away straight after highschool and made the decision to continue living there after she finished her course. Sal was looking forward to it, the friendgroup’s reunions almost always ended with the seven of them blackout drunk, and he was in need of a good drink with his favourite people.

The blue haired man was so deep in thought he didn’t hear the door to the cafe swing open, or the little tinkling of the bell above it, he didn’t feel the gust of wind swish around him and neither did he hear the footsteps clicking against the wooden floor, but he certainly heard the awkward cough and the deep, stammered “Hey.. excuse me-”. 

Sal could recognise that from anywhere. He swallowed thickly, turning around to face the figure stood at the counter, eyes unblinking under his mask, and sure enough, stood in front of him was Travis Phelps.

Travis had the same reaction as the man opposite him, his beady black eyes were so widened that he was sure they were going to pop out of their sockets. 

Sal was the first to speak, his Jersey accent clouded with shock. “Holy shit- um- Travis?’ He paused. ‘Sorry, God, um, can I take your order?”

The man just stood there momentarily, blankly staring. He looked quite different to the last time Sal had seen him, he was a little less gaunt-looking than he remembered and there was a lack of bruises on his face, which made Sal sigh a little bit in relief. The curls on Travis’ head were soft looking and better cared for compared to the brushed out bush that he used to walk around with, though they were still clearly bleached blonde. He was still dressed fairly smart though, a blue and white pin-striped shirt paired with a grey tie and slacks adorned his body, perhaps he’d just been at work.

Travis snapped out of his trance after a few seconds and cleared his throat. “My apologies.” His voice was significantly more quiet. “I’ll take an americano with hot milk please.” The man asked, reaching a hand up to nervously play with the golden cross necklace on his chest, looking at Sal intently, seemingly having several different emotions flowing through his face. 

The blue haired man turned around to start making the coffee, eternally grateful for his prosthetic mask that was hiding his reaction. He could still feel Travis staring at him as his back was turned, making him feel all the more uneasy as he took his time making the drink. Sal finally finished, placing the lid carefully on top of the hot paper cup, before spinning back around to give it to the tall man. 

That was another thing new about Travis, he’d grown into his height, no longer looking like the gangly awkward mess that he was back in high school, Sal noted. 

Travis swallowed, mumbling some sort of thank you before pulling a brown leather wallet out of his coat pocket and rustling through it before placing $2.50 on the counter. He still stood there for a few seconds, clearly debating what to say in his head, before settling on a quick “Bye.” and speed walking out the door, hot coffee spilling a little on his hand as he picked it up, leaving Sal to feel whiplashed as the bell on the door signalled his exit. 

All he could do was stay still, confusion swarming him. They hadn’t properly talked since the bathroom incident, or seen eachother since the older one had graduated high school for that matter, if he was entirely honest with himself, Sal had somewhat forgotten about Travis Phelps.

He only moved once he could sense his manager behind him. She was leaning against the doorframe leading to the kitchen, her eyebrow raised quizzically.

“The fuck was that about?” She asked, tucking a loose strand of her ginger hair behind her ear.

Sal turned to face her, a grimace settled on his lips behind his mask. “Dude I don’t fucking know. I mean I went to high school with him but-“

She nodded slowly. “Poor guy looked like he’d seen a ghost, were you guys friends?” She asked.

“Nope.” He said blankly.

“Huh..” The woman still looked at the man curiously, before changing topics. “Anyway, it’s a slow day today and respectfully I don’t wanna pay you anymore than I need to. You can go home now, I can handle any more customers if we get them.” She suggested, patting Sal on the shoulder.

He grinned and chuckled a little at her honesty. “Aw sick, thanks Kate!” He exclaimed, taking his apron off to hang on the wall before pulling out his flip phone.

‘Hey Lar.. Finished early today plz come pick me up.. 2 cold to walk home :( + have crazy shit 2 tell u!’ He messaged his brother.

Sal’s mind returned to Travis Phelps as he walked out back to grab his stuff, the interaction playing over and over in his mind as he slipped on his jacket, scarf and earmuffs, bracing himself for the cool late September air. Despite how awful Travis had been to him in high school, Sal couldn’t help but want to see him again.

Notes:

hey i hope you enjoyed !! pls let me know what you thought it would be mucho appreciated

just a warning i can’t promise the chapters are gonna be out too regularly as i am in my last year of school so i am drowning in exams, coursework and portfolios rn T^T

but i will try and give you guys a schedule of release days soon , and its christmas holidays rn so i should be able to write a little more over the next two weeks

tysm for reading baiiii

Chapter 2: visit

Notes:

hi everyone !!
thanks for all the kudos i honestly did not expect anyone to read this loll , apologies for the late update, its been a very rough and stressful month but WOOP WOOP its nearly 2025 !! lets hope my absolute impending doom is wrong and that it will be a great year

anyways here you go a late christmas present for you all, enjoy x

Travis couldn’t stomach it. 

It had been almost three weeks since he walked into that coffee shop, almost three weeks since he saw the man who had changed his life all those years ago, and the idea of stepping a foot back in there made his stomach turn.

He was a very different person now. No longer the bitter, spiteful, mean and repressed pitiful excuse of a boy he had once been. Travis had grown into a respectable man, somewhat. He worked in an office, he had an apartment, he dressed how he wanted, even if he didn’t really know how, and most importantly, he was dictating his own life, even if he had no clue what he was doing. But he was figuring his shit out.

Travis had gotten used to his little routine. Wake up, eat, go to work, eat, get home, rest, pray, eat, sleep. It was monotonous, but it was what worked for him, distracting him from the eternal dread that rattled his bones. It was all screwed up now though, ever since the day he saw Sal again, now Travis felt himself slip back into his old teenage routine. He thought of him when he woke up, when he ate, when he worked, he couldn’t even pray anymore, guilt seeping through his veins every time he even glanced at his Bible. He was still undeniably the same Sal, with the same mask, more or less the same build, the same electric blue hair, now just tied back in a bun and it plagued Travis’ mind. Maybe if he looked a little different, it wouldn’t be hurting him this much, undoing years of mental progress. But no, it was the same old Sal, haunting him once again.

 

It was 6am, Travis shot out of bed like clockwork, the urgency still programmed into him from his militant-like upbringing, a dream of blue hair and olive skin still lingering in the air. He stretched and pulled on a pair of brown slippers, rubbing the sleep out of his bleary eyes as he walked into his small kitchen, heading straight for the coffee machine.

It was supposed to be his day off today, which he usually spent sitting lazily in front of the TV, stuffing his face with snacks he would’ve been beaten for eating as a child. But no, today he would have to do his least favourite activity, visiting his Father.

Once upon a time, he was able to limit these as much as he could, using work or friends as scapegoats. It was different now though, now that his Father had cancer. 

He didn’t care that much, not really, given that the man had beaten the empathy out of him himself. No, Travis more felt like he had a duty, a need to visit his old man in hospital, just for closure, to allow him to cut the final tie holding him to his trauma. So he woke up early once a fortnight, he put on his best clothes, he drove down to that hospital and he saw his dad, for no one else but himself.

Travis took a large sip of his steaming coffee and groaned. He had a migraine again, like he often did when he had to see his Father, his skull splitting at just the thought of the man. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Travis leant against the kitchen counter, not bothering to sit down as he drank from his mug, letting the bitter liquid burn the roof of his mouth. Once he finished he returned to his bedroom, changing into a smart maroon sweater and a brown pair of pants, the colour palette seeming fitting, it being well into October now. He stepped into his bathroom to brush his teeth, staring at his face in the mirror, dainty fingers brushing over the scar on his lip. He hated how much he looked like him, his eyes, his nose, even his expressions. Aside from his skin tone, the only difference he had from his Father was his dark curls, which he’d forced him to bleach anyway. Travis often thought about stopping, it’s not like the man could do much to him anymore, now he lived an hour away. He couldn’t quite bring himself to do it though, as if it was a part of him somehow.

Toothpaste sunk down the drain, washed away by the tap as Travis corrected his appearance once more in the mirror before leaving, slipping on a pair of brown loafers and locking his apartment door behind him, walking down the several flights of stairs to his car. He unlocked the vehicle and sat in the driver's seat of his grey Ford Taurus, resting his head on the steering wheel for a moment, taking a deep sigh before starting the engine and beginning his commute to the hospital.

Of course his mind returned to Sal as he drove, thinking of him and that stupid cafe. He’d be working that day, Travis realised, he may or may not have memorised his schedule, staring into the little cafe everyday after work like some sick pervert, noting down the days he was in there. The man mulled over whether he would dare to find him again that day, whether he would have the time, how Sal would react, the same conversation he had with himself everyday. He continued to toss this mental coin in his head as he drove, possibly to distract him from thinking anymore about his Father as he drove to the hospital. 

The roads around him grew smaller, his surroundings becoming long strips of forests and fields, the city life dissolving behind him, Travis was getting closer now, finally entering Nockfell. He noted everything he recognised as he drove through his childhood town, the park his classmates used to go to afterschool whilst he had to go straight home, the cafe he took shelter under the time he ran away, the lake he once fell in on the walk to school, all of these places washing back unpleasant memories, causing Travis to frown a little as he drove. 

Finally, Nockfell Hospital came into view, and the faux-blonde pulled into the parking lot, finding a space to park in and then cutting the engine, waiting for the hands on his watch to strike 9am, before slowly dragging himself into the hospital, mentally preparing himself.

His Father was on the third floor, laying in bed, hooked up to an IV drip, his body frail and his face pale, his well kept blonde hair gone, Travis couldn’t help but have a pang of guilty triumph in his heart, seeing the man that ruined his life in such a vulnerable state. Kenneth looked up at Travis, an unintelligible expression on his face.

“My son.” He spoke, his voice a little wheezy. “It is a pleasure to see you.”

Travis nodded, walking over to sit on the chair beside the hospital bed.

“Hello Father.” He responded, trying his best to keep his voice strong and sturdy, refraining from falling back to the timid one he had always used around the man in the past.

They stared at one another in silence before Kenneth spoke again.

“Look at you, you’ve become such a fine young gentleman, I raised you so well.” He stated, making Travis clench his jaw.

“You look so much like I did at your age, what are you now, 21?” 

“I’m actually 25, sir.” Travis said quietly, bowing his head a little.

Kenneth's gaze darkened. “Ah, still have that foul attitude towards your Father though, I guess some things never change. You are very lucky that I am too weak to teach you a lesson the way I used to, boy."

The younger man took a deep breath, trying his best to contain the rage bubbling in his blood. He tried his best to change the subject, telling his Father about his life, and letting him ramble on about something or another, checking his watch every few minutes, praying for the hour to go by. To avoid his Fathers eyes he looked at everything but, intently staring at the cracks at the top of the white walls, counting the objects on the trolley opposite the bed over and over until the number 53 was practically carved into his brain, just waiting to go back home.

His visit time was finally up and Travis struggled to not leap out of his chair with joy. He said his farewells to his Father, pressing a kiss onto his wrinkled forehead, before heading out the door back down to his car. 

Travis flicked on the radio as he began driving, the classical music filling the car and allowing the man to sigh with relief as he exited the town. Soon enough, Sal entered his mind once again, after having to deal with his Father for an hour, he was starting to feel pretty reckless, maybe he could see Sal again? His watch read 10:12am, He knew the man had the morning shift that day and would finish at 11. Shit, Travis cursed to himself, it was still going to take another hour for him to get back. The absolute desperation to see the man boiled inside of him now, he needed some sort of closure in his life, he needed some kind of proof that he had changed, that he was going to make it out, and he decided that Sal was the key for that. He moved up a gear, pressing his foot a little harder down on the accelerator, he needed to get back in time. 

Everything around him was a blur as he drove, barely focusing on the road. He was usually a very careful driver, but he had no time for that now. Travis’ mind was a whirlwind, was he making a mistake? Maybe Sal hadn’t even forgiven him for how he had treated him back in Highschool, he had seemed startled in the cafe. Why was he making such a big deal out of this? Travis knew it wasn’t exactly a life or death situation, but the sinking feeling in his gut guided him, he simply had to. The city started shaping itself around him, the large skyscrapers and rows and rows of grey buildings came into view. He stopped at the red traffic lights, the time was now 10:57am and he still had at least another 5 minutes until he got there. His heart thumped in his chest, blood swirling in his ears, zooming off quickly again as soon as the traffic lights turned green. He finally got there, outside that little green cafe, parking his car outside on the street where he definitely wasn’t supposed to. He jumped out of the vehicle, the time on his watch now reading 11:03, he craned his neck through the big window of the cafe.

Sal wasn’t there.

He gulped, before sprinting round the back of the building, and sure enough there he was, walking in the opposite direction. Electric blue hair now down, swinging over his shoulders, big green puffer jacket masking his frame, fluffy ear muffs around his ears.

“Wait!” Travis called out, unable to catch up with him, out of breath and bending down as he panted.

Sal turned around, staring at the blonde man through the deep slits in his mask, head tilting to the side a little, not moving any closer.

As Travis somewhat caught his breath, he looked up at the other with desperate black beady eyes. “I’m sorry I- I just needed to talk to you!” He shouted once again as there was still a large distance between the two of them, his heart aching as he looked across at Sal, looking the same as he did all those years ago.

 

Notes:

hope you enjoyed :33

idk if you can tell but as a brit i’m rlly struggling using american terminology to be more fitting 😭😭 if i accidentally slip in the word trousers pls don’t bully me x

apologies if it is a little rushed, i have been a busy boy and i wanted to get it out as quick as possible, i promise the next chapter will be thick and juicy tho :P

adios

Chapter 3: reconcile

Notes:

hi i'm back from my break !!

a new chapter for you all <3

Sal came to a halt, goosebumps trickling down his skin as he heard his voice again. 

He stayed still for a moment, staring at the empty grey parking lot ahead of him, mentally preparing himself for the inevitable conversation that awaited him. Then, taking a sharp breath, he spun around to lock masked eyes with Travis’ beady black ones, his dark brows furrowed more than usual in distress. Sal didn’t move any closer, feet frozen in place as he waited for whatever the other man was about to do, though he wasn’t feeling particularly anxious, just a sinking feeling stabbing his gut that this was going to be a needed interaction.

The other man's breath was heavy, clearly he had been running. “I’m sorry, I- I just needed to talk to you!” Travis shouted, the volume probably unnecessary, but Sal appreciated the sentiment, being deaf in his right ear and all.

He nodded gently, eventually walking forwards until he stood about a metre away from the taller figure opposite him. He slipped his earmuffs off and rested them around his neck, his remaining eye still heavy from his early rise. Sal still did not speak, signalling back over to the cafe with his head, Travis got the hint.

“Yeah ok, uh- I just need to park my car. I don’t wanna get a ticket, sorry-” The blonde man said, still a little frantically, cutting himself off to run back to his car, making Sal chuckle to himself, having always found Travis’ unnecessary distress rather sweet.

Sal walked back into the cafe, through the front doors this time, earning him a confused look from his co-worker who had just watched him clock out a few minutes prior. He ordered two drinks, and took the steaming mugs to his favourite table. It was a small two seater, one of which being a green window seat, looking out to a park in the distance, which Sal slipped onto, setting the drinks down and placing his coat next to him. He stared out the window as he waited for Travis, watching the blur of trees and wishing he’d put his contacts in that morning.

 A certain tranquility had found its way to Sal, he had expected this conversation to make him sick to his stomach, but all he felt was peace, an acceptance in his fate. He knew this was meant to happen, why, he couldn’t put a finger on, but letting Travis back into his life felt right.

The other man finally walked into the cafe, eyes scanning the room for a moment, before a small smile settled on his face as blue hair caught his eyeline. Travis walked over, sitting on the chair opposite to him and looked down at the mug in front of him, his polite smile twisting into an inquisitive smirk, an expression Sal didn’t think he’d ever seen on him before.

“Americano?” He asked, looking back up at Sal.

“With hot milk, yeah. I remember your order.” He responded casually, as if he hadn’t played that memory of their first meeting in the cafe over and over in his mind for almost three weeks.

Travis’ smile returned as he took a sip of his coffee, peering over at Sal’s mug. “Thank you. What did you get?”

“Hot chocolate.” Sal replied, tilting his mask up to gain access to his own drink, not enough that the other man could see his face though. Travis smirked again, looking as though he was holding back a laugh.

“Hot chocolate, what are you four?” He chuckled, appearing to be extremely amused by his drink choice in a way that Sal couldn’t quite grasp, the idea of his highschool bully teasing him in such a friendly light-hearted way all these years later a little mindboggling. 

“I- wha- because I like it, what the fuck is wrong with a hot chocolate? Can’t a guy have a sweet tooth anymore?” He said defensively, clutching his hand to his chest in mock offence, still finding their casual banter slightly insane.

Travis laughed again, holding his hands up “No, not at all I’m not shaming you or anything, I just didn’t pin you as a hot chocolate guy, that's all.” 

Silence fell upon them once again, only for a minute or so, smiles still resting comfortably on both of their faces as they sipped at their hot drinks. Sal felt some comfort in Travis not being able to see his facial expressions, oblivious to the mild state of shock that resided with him throughout their entire conversation. Travis had calmed down a little now, certainly not as frantic as earlier, but his right leg still bounced up and down under the table, and his long brown fingers tapped either side of his mug, making a subtle clinking noise. He studied the man a little longer, noticing how alive he looked. When they were in highschool, Travis had always looked a little like a zombie. Grey, raw, looking skin clutching to his bones like vines to a tree, under-eyes practically blue from lack of sleep, often paired with a sickly, infected looking bruise, not to mention the unexplained scratches and marks across his body. It had provided solace for Sal back then, knowing there was someone almost as fucked-up looking as how he felt, but now seeing the other man look so healthy gave him an overwhelming sense of pride, despite barely knowing him at all anymore.

He was brought out of his trance by the blonde man clearing his throat, looking a little nervous by the way he had just been staring at him blankly through his mask. Sal nodded back, allowing him to talk.

“Anyway, I- most of the reason I wanted to talk to you today was to apologise.” He started, sighing a little as he began to peel back the bandaid, clearly too scared to entirely rip it off.

“Like.. I know I said sorry to you in the bathroom that day, but- you know now I’ve matured and everything I thought I owed it to you to give a proper apology.”

He gulped a little, leg starting to bounce a little quicker, and Sal guessed thinking back to highschool probably was not a particularly pleasant experience for him, so he nodded encouragingly, pressing him to continue.

“So, I’m sorry Sal, really and truly. The way I treated you, and Todd, and Neil, and your friends as a whole was fucking awful. It’s taken me a while to realise the gravity of my own words, to accept myself for who I am, and.. a lot of that I have you to thank for, I suppose. I know we never really spoke after that incident, but I always kept your words in the back of my mind. As I accepted that I’m gay, as I moved out of my Fathers house, as I grew up and moved on - I probably never would have done any of that if you weren’t so.. nice to me, when you really shouldn’t have been. So, thank you, and I’m sorry that it's taken me so long to say this, and that it all turned out this way.” He said, barely pausing to breathe as he rambled on. 

A wide beam spread across his face beneath his prosthetic at the words he didn’t think he’d ever hear. He reached his arm out, placing his hand on the other man’s reassuringly, who flinched a little before settling into the touch.

“Thank you for apologising, man. It means a lot to me, seriously.” He paused, tilting his head a little. “I’m so proud of you, you’ve come so far.” Sal’s voice was a little softer as he spoke, and he wondered if Travis had ever been told that before.

Conversation ignited once the apology had been accepted, the two men chatting away about the ongoings of their lives from the past seven years, Sal explaining the directions everyone in his highschool friend group had taken, Travis rather embarassedly detailing his first experience at a gay club, making the other choke on his own tears with laughter. Talking and laughing with the blonde man so freely still felt exponentially odd, something he’d never even imagine happening. Yet everything felt like it had fallen into place, the absolute monotony of his adult life was finally breaking its cycle, finally meeting its inevitable fork in the road, and Sal was without a doubt taking the path of reconciliation.

“Do you still see your Dad? Sal had asked, as Travis was telling him about his solo apartment downtown, wincing a little after the words left his mouth, hoping the question wasn’t too personal.

Travis faltered for a minute, a slight flicker of something in his beady black eyes before disappearing again. “Uh yeah, I drove down to Nockfell to go visit him in hospital this morning actually.” He said rather nonchalantly, then saw Sal tilt his head in mild concern and added, “He has cancer.”

Sal paused, the man’s lack of emotion behind his voice as he uttered those words left him unsure on how to respond.

“Shit, I’m sorry man.” He settled on.

“No honestly don’t be, I can’t wait to have him out of my life.” Travis laughed abrasively.

He nodded and didn’t press further, getting the impression that he should change the subject. Travis’ jovial response felt off. Sure his Father was an awful person, and Sal himself knew if he was in his position he would feel the same way, but his reaction somehow felt like a facade, he pushed those thoughts away anyhow.

They continued to talk for at least another hour after, the conversation a little dryer as the two were growing tired, ultimately deciding it was best to go home. Travis offered Sal a lift home, which he accepted gratefully, not particularly fancying walking home in the cold late-afternoon weather. Once they had walked back into the parking lot and sat in the car, Sal realised that a small part of him was rather uncomfortable with Travis knowing where he lived, as the blonde man asked him what street he lived on, but he forced himself to push that thought away, still desperate for this new era of his life, and to not have to walk nearly an hour outside in the middle of October. 

“Have you ever actually been in a relationship?” He asked Travis, after a minute or so of silence. Whilst the man had already told him about coming to terms with his sexuality and experimenting, he hadn’t mentioned his love life at all, and it left Sal a little curious.

Travis scrunched his face a little at the question, making the other smile behind his mask, his overexaggerated mannerisms somewhat endearing to him. “Uh.. yeah I guess I’ve had a couple, nothing that was proper or particularly fulfilling though.” He then grinned and sighed with embarrassment. “And.. you can’t tell anyone this or I will actually hunt you down, but I was also a bit of a slut when I was 21, so, I’m not like a prude or anything.” 

This made Sal cackle, tears forming in his eyes at the idea of Travis being a ‘slut’, leading the man to look slightly bewildered in return.

“What?!?! Wh- why is that so funny to you? I don’t understand.” He stammered, a little flustered, eyes darting as he tried to focus on the road, struggling to understand the other’s outburst as he practically convulsed.

Sal eventually managed to control his laughter, lifting a hand up under his mask to wipe his eyes. “Nothing, nothing, I’m sorry- It’s just never in my life did I expect Travis Phelps to be described as a slut.” He giggled, making Travis roll his eyes in response.

“Oh fuck you, it wasn’t that many people, I knew I shouldn’t have told you that.” He retorted, though chuckling a little himself. Then switching the conversation to Sal, he asked, “What about you then, any luck in your love life?”

Sal was humbled a little at that, sighing. “You got me there, not really no. I did have a girlfriend who I started dating when I was 20, but we broke up two years ago now.” 

He tried to think of more examples, “Uhhhh, my manager and I are kinda flirty with each other, and I guess you could also count that one time Ash kissed me to see if she really was a lesbian or not.. Spoiler alert, she was.” 

“Ok you absolutely cannot laugh at me when that’s the entire summary of your romantic endeavours.” Travis snickered, earning a middle finger raised at him in return.

The car finally took the familiar turn, whatever the blonde man was about to ask getting interrupted. Sal’s apartment block was on the left hand side, the red brick building standing out among the orange leaves on the trees lining the street. Following the blue-haired man’s pointed finger, Travis pulled up on the side of the road, engine still running.

“Ok here we are, thank you so much for willingly spending time with me this afternoon, it's been so great catching up with you.” He said, an earnest smile on his lips.

“Ah no worries, thank you so much for the drop home. But why don’t you come in, have a little rest before you have to drive yourself back? I’m pretty sure Larry’s home and he’d want to see you.” Sal offered, gesturing for Travis to follow him.

The man winced, tilting his head a little. “Oh no, honestly it’s fine don’t feel as though you have to, I should probably get going anyway.” 

“What? No, seriously it’s not a problem at all. I promise I’ll make sure he’s not too overbearing. Just for a few minutes. Please?” He reassured him, placing a hand on Travis’ shoulder until the other relented with a sigh, turning off the engine and following Sal out the car.

“Are you sure he’s going to want to see me?” Travis asked, scratching his head as Sal fumbled for his keys in his coat pocket to unlock the front door of the apartment building. “I mean lets be honest, he was never a huge fan of me in highschool, and he hasn’t heard the whole apology I’ve just given you and I don’t know if I can deal with anymore awkward soci-”

His nervous rambling was cut off by Sal finally unlocking the door and walking towards the stairs, beckoning for the other to follow. “I promise you, it’ll be fine, Travis. If he says anything out of line I’ll tell him to shut up.” He reinstated, holding onto the staircase as the two of them walked upstairs, his visibility not great with the prosthetic mask and one (barely) working eye.

Luckily, the two only lived on the second floor, and Sal once again unlocked the wooden door, stepping into his apartment along with Travis trailing behind him.

“Larry, I'm home!” Sal called out, waiting a few seconds for a response, and then nodded expectantly at the deafening silence that lay crisp in the air. “Ok, that means he’s playing videogames.” He grinned up at Travis as both of them took off their shoes.

Sal did slightly struggle to understand why Travis was so put off about seeing Larry. Sure, they’d never exactly seen eye to eye, but they were 25 years old with real life problems now, to him at least, any teenage beef should have been squashed by that point. He mulled that over in his head as he and Travis walked into the small blue living room, and sure enough Larry was sitting there, greasy brown hair tucked behind his ears, eyes fixated on the television screen, clicking aggressively at the grey controller in his large palms. The blue haired man snickered slightly at his step-brother's lack of acknowledgement, before stepping in front of the TV, blocking his view.

“Dude! What the fuck?” Larry groaned, chucking his controller next to him on the weathered leather couch as he died in his game. He stared at Sal in an accusatory manner, waiting for him to say something.

When Sal did not respond, the man felt another presence in the room, and his brown eyes widened at the man stood to his right, scanning over his large frame, a mix of confusion and nostalgia washing over his face.

 

“Travis?”

Notes:

i hope you enjoyed that

my break took a little longer than expected mb about that i just needed time to relax and bounce on sum dick
JOKE !!! i actually had my exams and they were absolutely harrowing, I got 2/3 grades back so far and i got B's on both of them though so yayayay yippee and i am having to create my portfolio for uni UGHGHRGHHHH
i also went to see dan & phils tour at the weekend and im not even exaggerating when i say it was one of the best nights of my life (idk if their is much of an overlap of sally face fans and phannies, i just wanted to yap abt this)

anyways hopefully i can have a bit of a better upload schedule now thats all out the way, i kinda chose the most busy year of my life to write a slowburn fanfic in but oh well

if you have read this far follow my twitter @t0mt0pia, im fairly active on their so you can find out updates n stuff ok baiiii

Chapter 4: tension

Notes:

writers block is my worst enemy 😵

Travis felt frozen in place as Larry stared at him, brown eyes fixated on him, his thick, dark eyebrows furrowed into an expression he was unable to read, causing anxiety to stab him like needles across his long gangly body. 

The man in front of him too had changed since highschool, maybe not as much as Travis himself, but he was somehow even taller, standing at least at 6’3, the acne had gone from his face, patchy peach fuzz now well kept stubble, his dark hair still long, still a little greasy, but it actually looked brushed now, and he looked a whole lot cleaner in general. He felt like he was back in highschool again, Larry snarling at him like vermin, hurling well-deserved insults at him. The blonde just had to pray silently that he, like Sal, had moved on, and didn't still hold a grudge against him.

“I- what the fuck?” The brunette said, eyes flickering bewhilderedly between the two men, Sal clearly trying to hold back a snicker behind his prosthetic. “Why the fuck is Travis Phelps in our apartment?”

An awkward silence thickened in the air, the three stood in a circle as they looked accusatorially at each other, Travis wanting nothing more than to leave this conversation.

“Larry, chill out dude, he’s a cool guy now, I promise.” Sal said slowly, patting his step-brother's arm in an attempt to diffuse the stifling tension. “Travis.. Do you have anything to say to Larry?” 

He took the hint and finally made eye contact with the man opposite him, a very awkward grimaced smile plastered on his face as sharp, beady eyes locked with dopey, brown ones. “Yeah I uh- I’m really sorry about how much of a dick I was when we were younger, I was a fucking mess and projected it onto you guys, which you didn’t deserve in the slightest.”

Cogs began to turn in the other man’s brain once again, his thinking visible by the rapid movement of his eyes. Larry had always been the one he hated the most for some reason, even though he was the straightest, most ‘normal’ one out of the entire friendship group. Travis just couldn’t stand him, the way he was so protective over Sal, the way he always made him feel like a repulsive cretin. It was just his own jealousy, he realised now, but a small part of him still couldn’t help but want to curl his lip in disgust at the sight of him.

“Ok..” Larry finally huffed, straightening up a bit and reaching his hand out to shake the blonde’s. 

He took in reluctantly, Larry’s grip firm, crushing his gangly hand slightly.

“But I quite rightfully don’t fucking trust you, I’ve got my eyes on you.” He added quietly, before letting go of his hand and standing up straight again, a vacant grin on his lips.

“Anyway, what are you up to now man? Still a church boy I’m guessing?”

Travis felt a little startled by the sudden switch in demeaner, but tried to follow suit, snorting a little at the man’s comment.

“Uh, no, journalist actually. What about you, got a job or do you just sit on the couch and play videogames all day?” He retorted, smirking in fear that Larry would take him seriously and punch him in the face.

“Okay, okay, my bad, you got me there.” The other chuckled, raising both hands defensively. “And no, I’m a graphic designer for independent cinemas, actually. You think we’d be able to afford this apartment on Sal’s coffee money?” He teased, earning him a jab in the side from the blue-haired man to his left.

Travis snickered, and as the men opposite him began to bicker, he used it as another chance to glance at the apartment around him. From what he had seen so far, it was a little smaller than his own, but they had clearly made it into a home. The blue walls were covered in posters for those horrid metal bands they loved that Travis had always hated, a few paintings done by Larry, and a photo from their parents' wedding hung from behind the couch. To his surprise, it wasn’t that messy either, a few packs of cigarettes and cups dotted around the room, but it was a lot tidier than he expected. It certainly felt more homely than his own apartment, where pretty much everything was a dull brown, black or white, and he had no real interests to display, and he couldn’t afford a piano to keep him company. 

A pang of loneliness hit Travis for a moment, the bond between Sal and Larry reminding him how truly alone he was.

He cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the other two as they were attempting to put each other in a headlock.

“Thanks for having me, it’s been great to catch up with the both of you, but uhh, I should probably head off now.”

Sal’s smile faltered. “What, can’t you stay a little longer, you  just got here?”

“Honestly it’s fine, it’s getting dark anyway and I want to get home before the sun sets. Sorry to be hasty, I had a great time today though Sal.”

The other huffed. “Fineee, but. wait-” He then looked at Larry, and the two seemed to be communicating something with just their eyes that Travis couldn’t quite figure out, after about 30 seconds or so, Sal spun back around.

“Do you wanna come back here for Halloween? We do a little get-together every 6 months or so with our friends from highschool, it would be great if you could make it.” He said earnestly.

Travis scratched the back of his head and his face twisted a little. “Uhh, I don’t know if that’s the best idea Sal, I mean I’d love to but-”

“Oh for God’s sake it’s gonna be fine man.” Larry interrupted him in a rather exasperated tone. “If I, of all people, got over it, I promise you everyone else has.” 

He knew he had a point, but Travis’ stomach still churned at the idea of having to be around people from his childhood any longer. Making amendments really was harder than he thought.

“Ok.. I guess I can.” He said slowly, face still unsure.

“Travis I promise I really want you to be there.” Sal reassured him with a nod, which just made his stomach flip more. “Here, give me your phone. I'll give you my number if you need any more info.”

He added, stepping in closer and holding a hand out.

Reluctantly, he pulled out his flip phone and unlocked it, opening the contacts and placing it in Sals outstretched hand. The other man looked down at the device and typed out his phone number on the plastic keys, then handed his phone back to Travis. He’d given his contact a name too, ‘Sal :3’, using one of those stupid emoticons that Travis didn’t understand.

“Great thank you, I guess I’ll see you guys on Halloween then?” He said, beginning to walk towards the hallway.

“Yeah!” Sal said in response, catching up to Travis before he could leave.

“Bye man.” The blue haired man said, giving him a quick awkward hug that made him freeze up for a split second.

Larry also walked over to say goodbye, shaking Travis’ hand once again and nodding a goodbye. He waved to them once more before letting himself out of the apartment and heading out of the building.

For fucks sake, he thought to himself as walked towards his car. More interactions with people he so desperately didn’t want to deal with. He was doing it for Sal though, he didn’t want to upset the other man, and he truly did want to be his friend.

He let out a deep sigh as he plopped himself down in the driver's seat of the car. Considering it had been his day off, it had been a long fucking day, and he couldn’t wait to get home and reheat his shitty pizza and watch trash TV. 

Notes:

kind of a short chapter mb, this one i had to rewrite about 8 times bc i was nawt sure what to write.

also for context, ive decided that Nockfell is in Pennsylvania and Lar Sal & Trav live in Pittsburgh so do with that what you will.

Chapter 5: anxious

Notes:

YAYYYY NEW ALL OVER AGAIN CHAPTER YAYAYAYAY

actually quite like this one, feel like now we're getting more into the storyline i'm able to craft sal & trav's personalities a little more and give you guys better insights to like their feels n that

enjoy xx

Sal lay anxiously at the end of the bed for what felt like an eternity, hoping the green duvet would swallow him whole as he absent-mindedly picked at the ginger fur of his cat that lay on his chest. He’d given himself the simple task of trying to be normal about the situation, which was proving to be a lot harder than he initially thought, as he picked up his phone for what must’ve been the millionth time that week, opening his new messages just for them to still be empty. Sal threw the small device back down on the bed with a groan, bringing his hands up to drag down his face, fingertips feeling the deep grooves of his scarred skin, dipping into the gap in his cheek where his reconstructed gums and partial dentures were visible, the familiar wet sensation of his saliva on his fingertips grounding him somewhat.

Why he cared so much about whether Travis was going to show up to the get-together or not, Sal wasn’t quite sure, but that didn’t stop his stomach from churning everytime his back pocket buzzed. That asshole still hadn’t messaged him, and Sal knew how incompetent he was at communication. Why he hadn’t just asked for his number instead of trusting him with his own remained a mystery to him, and now it was the day before Halloween, and he had received no message from Travis, he hadn’t even shown up at the cafe. He disappeared from his life just as quickly as he reentered it. It seemed the blonde had a knack for that.

His train of thought was interrupted by a familiar knock at his door, which he just responded to with a grunt. Larry opened the door and loomed in the room, resting his palm against the top of the doorframe. Sal didn’t have his contacts in, so he couldn’t quite make out the expression on his brother's face - but he could only guess, most likely laced with concern.

“You’ve been in here sulking all day Sal, what’s up?” He said softly, walking over to sit next to him on the small bed.

“Ugh nothing.” He sighed in return, flipping over to face his brother, making Gizmo, his cat meow loudly, with far too much irritation in his voice for a cat, and scurry off of him, out of the room. “Just stressed about tomorrow.”

Larry quirked an eyebrow. “Why? We’ve been doing this every six months for the past like, five years, there's nothing to be stressed about, it’s just our friends.” He reassured him.

“It’s not our friends that I’m stressed about.” 

This made Larry smirk a little, a playfully look settling on his face. “Ah, your boyfriend’s ignoring you, huh?” He teased with a wink.

Sal groaned, reaching an arm up to lightly shove Larry. “Fuck off he’s not my boyfriend.” He retorted, Jersey accent growing thicker in irritation as he rolled his eye. “But yeah, he hasn’t fucking messaged me at all. I knew I should’ve just taken his number instead.”

“Yeah.. he’s never been the most socially inept guy in the world, has he?” The brunette nodded, before adding. “What does it matter anyway? Either Travis shows up tomorrow or he doesn’t, I don’t get why it’s making you spiral like this dude.” Larry shrugged simply, giving his brother a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

Sal shrugged in return, huffing slightly. “I dunno, I think I’m just starting to feel all protective over him like I did back in highschool. He’s got a really fucked up life Lar, I worry about him a lot.” His voice was a little quieter as he said this, gaze returning to the ceiling as he spoke.

Larry passed for a moment, face twisting in thought momentarily. “Dude- look, I get you care about the guy, and that’s really sweet of you, seriously if I was in your position I would’ve killed him with my bare fucking hands by now, but.. He’s not the only one with problems, Sal.” He said slowly, gesturing to the several orange prescription bottles that sat on the nightstand, which made Sal snort a little. “Travis Phelps is a grown man. He doesn’t need you mother-henning him.”

The blue haired man pressed the working side of his lips into a thin line, not saying anything, just nodding his head in agreement. 

“Anyway.” Larry cleared his throat and stood back up. “Get your ass up off that bed, it’s Halloween tomorrow and you need to help me put the decorations up instead of moping about.” 

Sal just groaned in response, flipping back over onto his front, face buried in the green duvet as he flipped his brother off.

With one swift movement, the brunette brandished a packet of cigarettes from the back pocket of his jeans and waved them at his brother with a knowing look. “Smoke first? Then you help.” He bribed.

Predictably, Sal fell right into the trap, and practically jumped up from the bed quicker than his brain had prepared for, making his vision turn black for a split second. He steadied himself momentarily, grabbing onto the bed frame to stop himself from collapsing, before following Larry out of his bedroom and out onto their tiny balcony that was connected to their living room.

Sal had gotten a lot more comfortable with his appearance over the years. He’d learnt to live with the constant reminder of his mothers death marked across his face, accepting that he’d never be ‘normal looking’ ever again. But he also had days where he felt like the most vile, hideous and revolting looking abomination to walk the planet.

Today was one of those days.

He stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, it was still slightly steamed up after his shower. His blurry gaze traced over his slimy, seeping empty eye socket, the red and purple deep scars that hollowed out and twisted the structure of his face, the stretched hole in his cheek that bared his fake teeth and gammy gums and constantly leaked with his saliva, how it tore his lips into a permanent snarl, the thick white lines that trailed across his skin from where the doctors had stitched his face back together. Sal gulped back tears, taking deep shaken breaths as he took his glass eye out of its cup of water, carefully popping it into his socket, blinking aggressively until it moved into place. The same daily guilt washed over him as he bandaged up the hole in his cheek, carefully stretching the band-aid, trying to suppress the shame that his Mother had died instead of him, that he had to live with that reminder every single day.

With a large sigh, Sal straightened himself up, wiping the tears from his cheek and ruffling his hands through his damp hair, bringing it to rest down over his shoulders. He left the bathroom, towel around his waist, and returned to his own bedroom to get ready for the party.

Pretty much the only good thing about needing to wear a prosthetic mask, was that Sal was always prepared for Halloween. This year, he decided to go as a clown, and his eyes skirted through the chest of drawers where he kept all his prosthetics as he rummaged for the one that he needed, which he and Ash had designed together once upon a time back in highschool. Once he finally found it, he placed the mask down on his bed, smiling fondly at the black triangles and exaggerated smile painted onto the white silicone, a wave of memories hitting him as he did so. Although Sal was dragged away from his thoughts as a loud buzz echoed through the room, he snatched up his small flip phone from his nightstand, and sighed with relief at the new message, the bright screen light reflecting onto his face.

‘ Hello, It’s Travis Phelps. Sorry for the late message, I was very caught up with work and honestly was not sure if I would make it or not, but I am messaging you to let you know that I can come to your Halloween Party tonight. All the Best, Travis.’

Sal snorted at the formality of the message, a relieved grin spreading sloppily across his face as he typed out a response immediately.

‘lol u text like my dad.. c u @ 7 ;)’

About a minute later, the mobile vibrated again, another message returning to Sal.

‘At least my writing is legible, you text like a 12 year old. But yes, I will see you at 7 then, Travis.’

Sal couldn’t help but find it endearing how Travis signed each message off with his name, always talking like he had stepped out of the 50’s, though his vocabulary had modernised slightly as he’d gotten older. The confirmation from Travis had put a little pep in his step, made the eternal dread that constantly doomed his mind shut up for a while at least. Maybe the party wouldn’t be so bad after all.

 

Having had to fly across the entire country to visit, Todd and Neil were the first to arrive. They were staying in a hotel a few blocks away, and would be staying for an extra week like they always did whenever Sal and Larry held the reunion. It was 18:18 when they arrived at the apartment, and greeted the boys with hugs, although Todd’s were hasty and firm, him not particularly being the affectionate type. The two were also dressed up, Neil as a zombie and Todd as a pumpkin, which Larry was quick to tease him about, making sure to slip in a ginger-related insult too.

“At least I’m on theme, what do pirates have to do with Halloween?” The freckled redhead had argued back, making Larry scoff and readjust his eyepatch, standing up a little taller as if to honour his costume.

The other two shared a knowing look with each other as Todd and Larry bickered, both smiling and shaking their heads, before Neil clapped his hands together, directing everyones attention to him. 

“How about we get this party started, hey?” He suggested, his deep but soothing voice making the others act like clockwork, all cheering in agreement and heading towards the living room to start drinking before everyone else arrived, Larry playing the CD of spooky songs he’d burnt especially for that night.

Everyone else arrived closer to the planned time of the party, Chug and Maple turned up at 18:58, dressed as a witch and a ghost, arm in arm as they joined the others in the living room, and Ash at 19:24, who came dressed as a werewolf, popping her motorcycle helmet down on the coffee table, along with a bottle of vodka, and replacing it with fluffy ears, and her usual leather fingerless gloves switched out for furry brown ones. She seemed to have put the best effort into her costume, having painted her face to match and having realistic looking fangs glued to her teeth, outshining the usual plastic tat that got used during the Holiday.

Sal was filled with overwhelming joy to see his friends again all in the same room, dancing, drinking, laughing, just like they used to as kids, but he couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Travis still hadn’t arrived, and it was already 8pm at that point. Usually he wouldn’t care, but it wasn’t exactly like it was a huge party where turning up an hour late unannounced was expected, and the blonde wasn’t the type to do that anyway. He drew himself away from the group for a few minutes, standing in the corner of the living room to obsessively refresh his messages, still no answer from Travis. 

Sal didn’t really notice how anxious he must have looked, stood away from all his friends, silent when he was usually fairly chatty, subconsciously lifting his hands under his mask to bite his nails with nerves. However, when Ash walked over and joined him in the corner of the room, with a concerned look on her face, Sal got the slightly embarrassing reminder that he may have been making a big deal out of nothing again.

“What’s wrong Sally?” She asked, leaning against the wall and tilting her head to the side like a curious puppy.

He groaned. “Ugh I don’t even know how to tell you this honestly it’s kinda massively humbling for me if I’m honest.”

Ash grinned, nodding eagerly for him to talk. “Ok well now you have to tell me, I love watching men get humbled.” She teased, sticking her tongue out a little.

Sal rolled his eyes in return, before clearing his throat. “So.. around a month ago now, Travis Phelps from highschool came to my work, and it was like, so fucking awkward at first, but since then we’ve caught up and.. sort of become friends? Well- I don’t know but.” 

Pausing for a few moments, Sal questioned whether he should even consider Travis a friend, whether he was getting his hopes up too quickly. They’d only now seen each other twice, and he wasn’t even sure if the man truly did like him. But he tried to push those thoughts out his mind.

“Anyway- he came here about a week ago, and I invited him to come here for Halloween. He was very hesitant about it, but Ash, he is genuinely really sorry about how he treated us all back then. Seriously he practically grovelled at my feet the way he was apologising, he’s changed so much, more than any of us I think. But yeah, he is absolutely dogshit at texting, he only told me this morning that he’d come, but he’s gone absolutely radio silent again.” He huffed.

Ash stayed silent for a moment, Sal guessing she was digesting what he said, but she looked at him inquisitively, eyes squinting slightly as she tilted her head to the side, which he knew was the face she made when she drew conclusions about people. What she was drawing conclusions about, he didn’t know, and it made Sal a little tense.

“Right..” She finally said. “Well I’m glad you guys have.. Made amends. I’m sorry he’s not messaging you though, that sounds so frustrating. But don’t let it ruin your whole evening Sal, it's Halloween! Come dance with me, you’re making me miss my favourite song.” She said with a pout.

Her last sentence made Sal chuckle and shake his head, realising he maybe shouldn’t seek advice from a woman who was very clearly a little tispy. So he let himself be dragged back over to the middle of the living room, grabbing a red cup filled with mysterious liquid from the coffee table, and began dancing with his friend, trying with best efforts not to spill any of his drink down his white and black striped costume. Sal drank enough to forget about Travis for that moment, letting himself have fun with his childhood friends like he had been waiting to do for half a year, relieving himself of the constant anxiety bundled up inside of him.

Notes:

ash is like .. i know what you are ..

N E way i love projecting onto sal fisher saur much omg i fear these chapters may start to get a little more depressing as the story progressive and just a warning i may have to add a dead dove tag en el futuro

also i really struggle writing group scenarios, just one or two ppl is easy but when theres a whole bunch of people ITS SO DIFFICULT hope i didn't fuck it up too badly this chapter but ughhhh im gonna have to do it again the next one.

Chapter 6: party

Notes:

hey so sorry its been *checks notes* like 3 weeks since the last chapter ??
ik im not exactly the best at updating this fuckass fic but thats pretty poor even from me. basically i'm in my last year of school so i've just had MORE mock exams and i am so busy all the time that i didn't even have a moment to even THINK abt my sweet baby all over again.
here's a longer chapter for you all though to make up for it <3 i tried to start weaving some actual lore into ts and also make all the romance tags actually start to have a purpose ;) (you guys are better than me thank you for being so patient)
enjoy !!

Travis scrambled around his apartment, furiously trying to pull on a pair of black pants as he searched for those stupid, uncomfortable plastic fangs that would undoubtedly leave stinging cuts along his gums for the next day, tripping over and banging his forehead on the rock-solid wooden floor in the process, making him whine in agony.

It would’ve been fair to assume that he had the worst possible luck in the world, and in that moment, Travis whole-heartedly believed that. After his harrowingly long 8 hour shift, his boss had decided it would be fit to spring an “absolutely necessary” hour long meeting on him about a case he “desperately needed him to write about.” Travis hadn’t been listening of course, trying to message Sal rushed apologies for his inevitable late arrival to the party, and then trying not to curse out loud when none of them were going through, just “yes”ing and “oh wow”ing when he felt was apt as his boss rambled on, the few words he did catch such as “paranormal” and “church” somehow not ringing alarm bells in his head.

Once he finally did get home, it was already past 7pm, and the blonde was in a frenzy, sprinting to his bedroom, slamming his small wooden closet doors open, wincing as they made a thwacking sound against the off-white walls. Pants, shirts and various socks flew out over the back of Travis’ head and onto the beige carpet like he was in a cartoon as he frantically searched for his Halloween costume, only for it to be still neatly folded up in the white plastic ‘Goodwill’ bag that had been sat at the bottom of the closet since he purchased it. He groaned in irritation, turning around to see the completely unnecessary mess he just had made around him. Travis didn’t have time to pick the clothes up though, instantly stripping himself of his work clothes. He was going to have to get ready faster than any quick-change he’d done in the shitty little Church Nativity plays his Father had forced him to be in as a child, but with his complete lack of athleticism and long, gangly limbs, Travis was left with the balance of a baby giraffe, which was how he landed face-first on his kitchen floor. 

After giving himself just a moment or two to sulk and wallow in his own pity, the man picked himself back up, returning to his bedroom to finish getting dressed as quickly as he could, before quickly smearing white face paint across his skin and pushing red contacts into his eyes, trying to make himself look as vampirey as possible.

In hindsight, Travis probably didn’t need to be rushing around and making a fool of himself the way he was just for some party that he’d only decided he wanted to go to that morning, but by God was he anxious. Not only to try to salvage and continue Sal’s newly found positive image of him, but to have to see all the man’s friends again, to apologise for his embarrassing teenage actions, to likely have to beg for forgiveness. He was the most nervous to be face to face with Todd again, who’s life he’d made a living hell. Travis didn’t think he’d ever forget that moment. That fateful day in 8th grade, a couple weeks after Todd had come out, where the ginger had simply smiled at him, after the weeks of shit he’d put him through. He still remembered the sincerity in his voice as he said, “One day you too will learn to love yourself, there’s nothing wrong with being gay, Travis.” Worst of all the way he’d responded, the sound of the crunch as he broke Todd Morrison’s nose still played over and over in his mind. 

Once he was finally ready to go, Travis took a deep, steadying breath, before rushing out of his apartment door and down to his car, turning the engine on with lightning speed and setting off to the city centre, where Sal and Larry lived.

He sprinted up the apartment building staircase once he arrived, leaving him embarrassingly out of breath, eyes scanning across the coridoor, vision slightly blurred by his shitty contacts, before landing on their door. He rang the bell, silently praying to himself that Sal would be the one to open it, but to his dismay, a slightly tipsy Neil appeared in front of him, his face still recognisable under all his zombie makeup. Travis remembered him as a very calculated and calm man, yet he still struggled to hide his shock, his eyes just widening, not saying a word.

There it was. The guilt. Already washing over Travis as he swallowed thickly. “Uh.. hey. Did Sal not tell you I was invited?” He said, trying to sound as chill as possible, cringing internally as his voice cracked and his false vampire fangs gave him a slight lisp.

Neil stood still for a few more seconds, taking a moment to process everything, making Travis extremely thankful for his pasty white face paint covering the way his face burnt in shame, before just nodding and gesturing for him to come in, stepping out the way of the door. 

Walking down the thin hallway towards the living room made Travis wish the dusty carpet would swallow him whole, and sure enough, as he entered the room, all eyes turned to him, and Travis could’ve sworn he heard a record scratch. 

No one spoke for a moment, everyone just staring at Travis in drunken confusion, and he began anxiously tugging at the golden chain around his neck, letting the sharp corners of the cross pendant dig into his fingertips. What must’ve only been about five seconds felt like minutes, dragging slowly and excruciatingly by. Travis hoped that maybe they didn’t recognise him, that his vampire costume was a good enough disguise and their memories of him were too distant, but the sheer shock on everyone's face were too distinct for them not to know.

After what felt like an eternity, Sal finally walked over to him, his clown costume making a swishy noise as he did so. “Travis!” He exclaimed, voice already slightly slurred, Travis remembered him saying he was a lightweight. The blue haired man pulled him into a quick, polite hug, that took him by surprise slightly, before turning back round to the rest of the group.

“So I’m sure you guys remember Travis from high school..” Sal began, gesturing to him in a way that made him feel like a zoo animal with an abnormal birth defect. “We reconnected about a month ago and he’s really chill now. I just didn’t tell any of you because.. Yeah. Apart from Larry obviously.. And I literally just told Ash but.. Uhhhh yeah! Come get yourself a drink, man.”

Sal’s drunk ramble just made him feel even worse, he kind of just wished he could’ve hidden in the corner and observed the entire party, and now he was the centre of attention. Travis made his way over to the coffee table, pouring himself a drink, adding a considerably higher amount of vodka than he normally would. He was going to need a lot of alcohol to get himself through the evening, he decided. Luckily, eyes had already diverted away from him, and everyone went back to chatting and dancing again, making Travis sigh with relief, although he figured he should probably begin making his round of apologies. 

He made his way over to Sal first, placing a hand on his shoulder to gain his attention as the man talked to Ash and Larry. He flashed a quick smile at the other two, before looking back down at Sal. From this close, and in the dimmer evening light, Travis could just about make out Sal’s piercing blue eyes from behind his prosthetic, one slightly brighter than the other, and he wondered whether it was real or not. He watched as the blue eyes traced over him, taking their sweet time observing his outfit, making a tiny shiver run down Travis’ spine. 

“Thanks for inviting me Sal. I’m so sorry I was so late, I didn’t get let off from work until like half six and then I was trying to find my costume and then it takes like half an hour to drive over here and I was trying to message you and tell you but these stupid, piece of shit mobile phones that are supposed to be so great for communication are really hard to-”

His apology was interrupted by a slight chuckle from Sal, who just patted him sympathetically on the arm. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m just glad you showed up.” Sal replied, and Travis could hear the smile in his voice. “I like your costume by the way.”

 

With a little alcohol in his system, Travis felt comfortable enough to mingle with the others. Just simple, slightly awkward conversations, apologising for his teenage idiocy, and explaining where life had taken him after high school over and over again. He had been talking idly with Chug and Maple on the couch until they’d gotten a message that their taxi had arrived, and they quickly departed. Travis had learnt they had a young daughter, Soda, a little four year old who was waiting for them back home, still in the same apartment building in Nockfell. It was insane to think that people his age were already having stable long term relationships and even children, doing all the grown up things that Travis didn’t think he’d ever feel old enough to do. He was so different than he was as a child, yet he still felt just as clueless, still just as scared of the big bad world that surrounded him. He didn’t think he’d changed very much at all.

Once the two had said goodbye to everyone and left, Travis found himself on his own again, as Sal, Larry and Ash had stepped outside for a smoke break. He felt a little awkward, sitting by himself on the couch, so he wandered into the small red kitchen, on the hunt for more alcohol. Expecting the room to be empty, Travis practically yelped as he walked into the room to see Todd and Neil with their arms wrapped around each other, Todd’s back pressed against the kitchen counter as they kissed each other with fervour. He immediately ducked his head down and went to leave the room, but it was too late, the two pulled apart from each other and whipped around.

“Shit, sorry!” He called out, still refusing to look up, his thick blonde curls blocking his view. “I didn’t know anyone was in here- I’ll leave-”

“Relax, it's ok man.” Neil laughed heartily before Travis had the chance to scurry out the room. He looked up, Todd still stood against the counter, looking disgruntled and a little pink with embarrassment, and Neil was walking towards him.

“I was just goin’ to use the bathroom anyway, I’ll let you two catch up.” He said with a smile, patting his dark hand sympathetically on Travis’ shoulder as he walked past him and out the door, still chuckling quietly. 

Travis sighed, cursing to himself under his breath before walking over to Todd and standing next to him, his lower back pressed against the red counter. He hadn’t spoken a word to him that entire evening, hadn’t quite mustered up the courage to face more guilt. Tension was thick in the air.

“Hey.” He said simply, staring down at the tiled floor.”

“Hello Travis Phelps.” 

After several more slow and painful seconds of silence, he spoke again.

“You were right about me by the way. After all this time.”

Todd looked up, finally making eye contact with Travis, tilting his head slightly in confusion. “Right about what?”

“I’m gay.” He said, popping the years of built up tension like a balloon. “I’m not quite at the loving myself part of your prophecy yet but..”

The other smiled, pushing his glasses up his nose, correcting their wonky position that had been left after his fleeting moments with Neil minutes prior. “I’m proud of you.” He said simply.

Travis practically scoffed in response, shaking his head. “You really shouldn’t be. I was an asshole to you, Todd.”

“Yeah well, it was only for a couple years, Sal replaced me as your punching bag pretty much as soon as he moved to Nockfell, if anything I got away scot-free.” He joked, voice slightly weary sounding, although that could’ve just been the alcohol.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Travis breathed, the remorse swallowing him alive. “You really didn’t deserve any of that. I don’t care if it was just internalised homophobia or whatever they call it, I treated you and Sal and all of your friends so awfully, I don’t deserve any of your forgiveness, but I’ll literally do anything to make it up to you guys.”

Todd sighed. “Thank you for your apology, I’m just glad you’re more comfortable in yourself.”

Travis nodded, chewing at the corner of his lip anxiously. Silence filled the room once again, and he noticed Todd staring at the golden cross that lay around his neck.

“Are you still a part of the church from back home?” Todd asked rather bluntly, startling Travis slightly.

“Uhh.. n-no, I gave up all my duties when I moved down here.” He stuttered, before furrowing his thick brows slightly. “Why?”

“I- there's no easy way to say this.” Todd began, confusing him even more. “I work for the FBI up in Washington, as a researcher on paranormal activity, more specifically.” He paused.

Travis’ heart plummeted in recognition, immediately starting to thump against his ribs. Surely.. Surely Todd couldn’t know? Surely he wasn’t about to say what he thought he was going to say.

“Travis I know. I know about the Devourers of God, I know about your Father, I’ve figured out nearly everything now. Do you promise me you’ve left?” Todd whispered, eyes wide.

Blood began to whirr in Travis’ ears, his breath becoming short. The Devourers of God, the cult he was forcibly brought up in, the thing that had lost him his Mother and his sisters, forcing him to unknowingly bare witness to all the awful things conducted by his Father that he couldn’t even think about without throwing up, the years of physical and psychological abuse he faced from him. Travis had spent years trying to suppress the memories, he’d left The Phelps Ministry, he built a new life for himself, but there was no escaping it. He was bound to it by blood.

“I- wha- yes I promise you, I’ve left, h-how do you know about? What?” Travis’ mind was racing, memories of yelling, hitting, dark caves, blood, all of them spinning round and round in his mind.

“I’ve seen the ghosts in Addison Apartments with my own eyes, I’ve talked to them. I saw the corpses in Mrs Packerton’s freezer. I’ve been researching this since I was 14, this is ten years worth of work and I’ve finally-”

Travis cut him off, panic coursing through his veins. “Wh- Todd, the FBI? What the fuck? This is just personal research, right? Tell me it’s just personal research, please- I- I know I’ve left the cult but- I’m still legally the heir and everything! If the FBI are involved then- and oh fuck oh fuck, it’s already spread to news outlets hasn’t it? My boss was saying something about a church and paranormal activity this morning, I-”

He was interrupted by Todd placing both of his freckled hands on his bony shoulders. “Hey, Travis, I’m going to need you to breathe okay. I promise I’ll leave you out of it, most of this I haven’t even shared with anyone , okay? I just needed to know you weren’t a part of it anymore and see if I could get any more information about it from you.”

Pinching his nose bridge, Travis took a deep shaky breath. “Ok, um. Look, I’m really sorry Todd, I don’t think I’m going to be able to help you with any of this. I can’t even think about the stuff I saw without throwing up, I just- I’m not going to be able to help.” 

Todd nodded, slipping his palms off the man’s shoulders. “That’s okay, I won’t make you think about it anymore and I won’t ask you anything if you don’t want me to. I’ll keep my research purely about the cult, nothing about the people.” He said in an attempt to be reassuring.

“He’s got cancer anyway. My Father that is. And he’s not going to make it, the doctors say he’s only got a few months left in him, so I have no idea what’s going to happen to the cult once he’s gone, ‘cos I’m not going anywhere near that fucking place.” Travis mumbled, once again tugging at his necklace.

Before Todd could say anything, Larry popped his head around the door, a beer in hand, his pirate's eyepatch missing, clearly very drunk.

“Can you guys stop being so boring and come have another drinkkk.” He whined, attempting to use the door to balance himself.

“We’ll be there in a minute!” Todd called out to Larry, who lifted a thumb up and stumbled back into the living room, making the both of them chuckle.

The ginger ripped a blank post-it note off the corkboard behind the two of them, taking the pen on the counter too, scribbling something down quickly before handing it to Travis.

“That’s my number, just in case you do want to give me any information. Or if you just need someone to talk to about it, I can imagine it's pretty isolating having no one who knows.” Todd said sympathetically, before exiting the kitchen.

Travis stuffed the note in his pocket, swallowing thickly and giving himself a moment to recompose his scattered brain, and then walked back into the living room.

He was instantly greeted by Sal gracelessly staggering over to him. “Yay you’re back! I thought you had left me.” He said with an audible pout, words slurring together in a string of incoherency.

Travis chuckled and shook his head. “You are so drunk.”

“And you’re not drunk enough!” Sal retorted, before holding out the red cup in his hand to the blonde, motioning Travis to take it.

“Sorry, I’ve just had a very sobering conversation.” He said, before glancing down at the cup and raising an eyebrow in amusement at the neon yellow shade of the drink. He obliged however, removing the cup from Sal’s grasp and taking a sip, before immediately widening his eyes and coughing.

“Holy- shit, man. What the fuck did you put in this?” Travis spluttered, wincing as the liquid burned its way down his throat.

Sal giggled. “Relax man, it’s not laced or anything. It’s just got a healthy mixture of liquor. C’mon drink it, you got a lot of catching up to do.”

Travis just rolled his eyes affectionately, taking a slightly larger gulp of the drink.

 

By the end of the night, Travis had successfully ‘caught up’. Though he wasn’t nearly as gone as Sal, he was inebriated enough that his normal reserved nature had gone. He lay sprawled across the couch with Ash, as Larry and Sal lay on the carpeted floor all grumbling drunken goodbyes to Todd and Neil, who set off back to their hotel.

“How are you getting home, man?” Larry asked him once the others had left, and Travis’ eyes widened.

Shit. His original plan had been to sober up by the end of the party and drive himself home, but the watch on his right wrist read 1:12am, and knew he would not be sober anytime soon. A taxi was off the table too, he’d left his wallet at home. Instead he just looked back up at Larry with a pained expression.

“Weren’t expecting to get this drunk, huh?”

“Never expect that from a Sal and Larry party.” Ash chimed in from next to him on the couch.

Larry snickered. “I mean hey, you can stay here. It’s just.. Ash takes my bed, I sleep on the couch, and we don’t exactly have a spare room knockin’ around. So unless you wanna take the tub?-”

“You can share my bed.” Sal piped up, lifting up a finger like he was volunteering himself for war.

When everyone else raised their eyebrows, the blue haired man scoffed.

“Oh my god.. Not like that, you freaks. Don’t worry, I’ll build a pillow wall and face the other way like a good Christian boy.” He teased, exaggerating his New Jersey accent. 

Travis felt his cheeks heat slightly, and he prayed his white face paint was still masking his face. “Uh. I mean if that’s fine with you Sal.. I’d rather not take the tub..” 

Sal just gave him a thumbs up in response, before pulling himself up from the living room floor and beginning to stumble towards the bathroom. “Goin’ for a piss.” He grumbled, leaving the others alone in the room.

One thing that Travis had learnt about Sal that night, was that he was very flirtatious when he was drunk. The entire night, the shorter man had been stealing glances at him, eyes visibly lingering even from behind his mask, making cheeky comments and finding any excuse to touch his arms. Travis couldn’t help but feel flustered, he’d been head over heels in love with the man for the entirety of high school, and though he’d moved on years ago, a small part of him liked the lingering eyes, the flirty jokes and the touchiness.

Ash poked Travis in his side, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Don’t you dare try anything with him tonight.” She warned. “Don’t let his flirting fool you, one drop of alcohol in that boy’s system and he’d probably fuck a tree if he could.”

He shook his head furiously. “Wh- No, I am not that kind of guy, first of all, and I do not like Sal like that.” He quipped, and Ash just raised her hands defensively, before pushing herself to her feet.

“Right, I’m going to bed, see you losers in the morning.” She slurred, exiting the room and leaving just Larry and Travis.

“D’you wanna borrow some sweatpants or something? That doesn’t look too comfortable to sleep in.” The brunette offered, gesturing to Travis’ tight vampire suit.

Travis accepted the offer gratefully and soon was by himself in Sal Fisher’s bedroom, sighing in relief as he stripped off the uncomfortable suit that had clung to his skin all night and freed his eyes from the red contacts, folding the frilled shirt, pants, vest and cape into a neat pile and placing them on a chair on the other side of the room. He felt a little cold, just in the grey sweats Larry had leant him, that were sitting a little loose around his waist and bunching up at his ankles, considering the man was a good couple of inches taller than him, so he climbed into bed, pulling the soft green duvet over him, protecting his bare torso from the biting October cold, too tired to wait for Sal. 

Just before he fell asleep, the sound of the bedroom door opening caused him to stir. Travis could feel a presence in the room with him, but he couldn’t muster the energy to open his eyes or lift his head from the pillow.

“Travis?” He heard Sal call out in a soft whisper.

“Mm?” He hummed in response, voice slightly muffled from the pillow.

“Please don’t look at me.” Sal murmured, hiccupping midway through. “I don't have my prosthetic on.”

“My eyes are closed, I promise” Travis murmured back. He felt the presence move towards him, then the dip in the bed as Sal climbed in next to him, the covers rustling.

“Goodnight Sal.” He whispered after about a minute, but soft snores had already begun to fill the room, so Travis followed suit. 

 

He woke up the next morning to birds chirping outside the window, a crack in the curtains shining early morning light onto his face. Travis groaned, not sure of where he was, unaware of anything but the shooting headache ricocheting through his skull. He pinched his nose bridge in an attempt to reduce the pain and reached an arm out to the bedside table next to him, long gangly fingers searching for his watch. Once he felt the cold metal against his fingertips, he picked the watch up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and squinting to read the time.

It read 7:28am. Travis groaned once again, and flipped over to fall back asleep, treating himself to a lie-in to rid himself of the cracking headache, except he was greeted to the warmth of a body radiating onto his own skin. Travis mentally cursed to himself, finally remembering where he was. In Sal's bed, the man asleep peacefully next to him, his soft breath reverberating around the room. 

After several minutes of mental tossing and turning, Travis finally got up, deciding he didn’t fancy the inevitable awkwardness of Sal waking up next to him, slowly and silently peeling back the warm green duvet and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He crept across the bedroom, the beige carpet working in his favour to muffle his footsteps, and then grimaced when he realised his only choice of clothes was his sweaty vampire costume from the night before. But just as he was about to begrudgingly move to the bathroom to get changed, his eyes landed on a black hoodie that lay over the back of the chair that his clothes were on. Although Sal was a lot shorter than him, the hoodie looked relatively large, and comfortable too. Surely Sal wouldn’t mind if he wore his clothes, Travis basically had no other choice, and it would at least give him the excuse to see him again. 

He finally decided to pull the hoodie over his head, it fit him just perfectly, and sent instant warmth through his body, the goosebumps finally leaving his skin. Before he left, he turned around to look over at Sal. The man was still fast asleep, wrapped tightly in his duvet, his long blue hair shielding most of his face. The light through the crack in the curtains shone down on him so perfectly, basking him in gold, the olive-toned skin of his arm glowing as it stretched across the bed. From where Travis was standing, he could only see a little of Sal’s face, seeing patches of deep purplish-red from behind his hair. But he wasn’t going to pry, wasn’t going to go and get a better look as to what Sal truly looked like, he couldn’t break that trust. Instead he just admired what he could see, the Sal he knew. Maybe deep down Travis Phelps still was a little bit in love with Sal Fisher, he wasn’t too sure, but for now he was just happy to relearn him.

Notes:

hope you liked thattt
sorry if it was kinda dogshit im not exaggerating when i said i wrote 99% of this all in one sitting its 3am now oh my god i'm so tired i am going to have the fattest snooze of my life.
lmk what you thought, all your comments are super appreciated <33

Chapter 7: bond

Notes:

hey guysssss scratches head
so .. sorry it’s literally been over a month now but unfortunately for you all i started talking to a girl so suddenly all my free time ever is taken up :P
still have time for you loser virgins though 🫶 eat up papa has made you food
(in all seriousness this chapter is super short sorry i just felt so bad for not posting in so long so here’s a head cannon i’ve had for years - also ACTUALLY READ THIS BIT ITS IMPORTANT : i am probably going to have to go on hiatus with this fic for about 2 months, my exams start in less than a week and i am so stressed i actually have no time to write ever , im really sorry !!! i will be back when my exams are over though)

Weeks passed by and Sal and Travis grew close by the day. Meeting up after work, going to each other's houses, teasing each other, talking and laughing for hours, making up for all their lost time together. Sal had come to realise it was different with Travis, a different kind of friendship to what he had with any of his other friends, a bond between the two of them that he couldn’t really describe to anyone else. The blonde man really just got it. Got the way he lived in constant shame, got the way he was stuck in a never ending cycle of terror, no matter how much he healed. The two were so different, had lived such different lives, hell, they probably should’ve still hated each other, but it worked.

 

It was a Saturday afternoon in November, Sal and Travis were sitting on the blonde's brown leather couch, a pile of CDs between them as the two were swivelled round to face the CD player on the stand behind them.

Travis shook his head in disgust and pressed the pause button on the cd player, causing Sal to pout from behind his mask.

“Hey! You mean to tell me you don’t like Cannibal Corpse?” He teased, feigning hurt in his voice as he ejected the disc.

“How can you even listen to that shit? It’s not even good, it's just assaulting my ears.”

“Hey fuck you, Tomb Of The Mutilated is a great album, you didn’t even even get through the first song! You would’ve loved ‘I Cum Blood’!”

Travis’ face scrunched and he pretended to gag as Sal just cackled at him, attempting to recompose and sort through more of the CDs next to him on the couch.

“Ok, so far you have literally only liked The Smiths, and even then you said Morrisey was too whiny.” He added before Travis could interject, and popped open a red CD case, sliding the disc into the player and waiting for it to load. “Belle and Sebastian, If You’re Feeling Sinister. I think you’ll actually like this one y’know.” 

As the opening track started playing through the speaker, Sal turned his head slightly, sneaking a glance at Travis’ reaction. The man’s usual resting frown had softened as the song played, brows raised ever so slightly instead of furrowed, fingers tapping along to the rhythm against the back of the couch. Sal grinned under his mask in silent victory, proud of his own ability to predict the other’s music taste.

Once the opening track died out and the next one began to play, he reached his hand up to eject the CD and replace it with one of the others from the couch pile, only to be stopped by Travis’ hand clutching his wrist, brown slender fingers linking together with ease around Sal’s olive-toned skin. It made his mind short-circuit for just a moment, the little movement he had left in his face working to make his eyes widen, before he shook it off and turned back to face Travis.

“No I actually like this one, don’t change it.” The blonde said softly, letting go of Sals arm and bringing his own hands to rest in his lap. Sal mirrored him, shuffling around to face Travis and sitting cross legged on the couch, small hands resting on his thighs . 

“Keep it.” He said after about a minute of comfortable silence, handing the plastic red case over to Travis. “I have all 3 of their other albums anyway.” And after some enthusiastic reassurance, Travis accepted the gift gracefully, getting up to walk around the couch and place the case in his collection, all lined up neatly in alphabetical order on a little wooden shelf next to the CD player.

They sat there just the two of them, on that leather brown sofa, listening to the rest of the album, mostly in silence, Sal letting the other man be entranced by the music. But it wasn’t awkward. It was a different kind of comfort that Sal felt around Travis, he didn’t know what it was, or why, it just felt right, and he was willing to let that be.

Notes:

haiii i hope you enjoyed :3

plsplsplspls feel free to leave any comments or ask me about any of the characters or the story in general whilst im on hiatus i still wanna give you guys aoa content as much as i can this fic is literally my child that i love with all my heart but also neglect sometimes

ok baiiii

Chapter 8: face

Notes:

GUESS WHICH FIC IS BACK OFF HIATUS (its this fic) (this fic is your favourite fic)
i was hit with the dreaded AO3 writer curse literally as soon as i started writing this chapter and got laryngitis for TWO WEEKS!!!!!!!!!!
but i have written a slightly longer chapter (by my standards anyway) to make up for it :3

Time continued to pass, flying by as Travis’s friendship with Sal Fisher blossomed further and further. He’d never really had a close friend before, just awkward aquaintances he’d slapped the label ‘friend’ over to make himself feel less lonely. And Travis was still lonely, of course, he didn’t think that was a feeling that would ever go away, but at least with Sal he wasn’t alone.

He’d known since the morning after Halloween that those feelings were returning, the same ones his teenage self had once developed, lurking in the dusty shadows of his mind. But he still wasn’t ready for that, didn’t want to ruin the connection he’d spent so long building. Sal was just his friend, he could deal with that.

 

Autumn rolled into winter, going deeper into November, and Christmas time was approaching. It was one of Travis’ least favourite times of the year, not that he particularly enjoyed any other time either, but Christmas made his fucking skin crawl. Foul, supressed memories crawling back to him and filling him with relentless nausea during a period that was supposed to bring joy to the world. It often made him a bitter and spiteful person, gut-churning jealousy residing in him to anyone and everyone who was able to have fun during that time of year, yet he knew he couldn’t do that this time round. Sal loved Christmas, and he couldn’t bring himself to spoil the man’s happiness.

Travis had even managed to feign enthusiasm when the blue haired man had suggested going ice-skating, nodding along and grinning as he groaned internally at the thought of the gleeful families and the twinkly lights, the wretched, repetitive festive songs blasting through crackling speakers and the cold, hard ice that he’d inevitably be bruised on. He knew he couldn’t act like this forever, couldn’t let his trauma rule his life, but fuck was it hard not to.

“C’mon, it’ll be so fun!” Sal had begged him one afternoon, as the two of them and Larry were splayed across the Fisher-Johnsons’ leather couch, clutching their stomachs in exhaustion and pain after devouring enough greasy pizza to feed a small village.

Travis had grumbled some excuse about not being able to make it out of work in time, but Sal was a persistent man, and Travis struggled to say no to him, feigning a smile and finally agreeing to come in the end.

He’d had to drive straight from work to the other’s apartment to pick the brothers up, still in his grey work suit, although he’d brought a spare change of clothes with him. Work had been pleasantly boring that day, to the relief of Travis, Todd had kept his promise, and had somehow managed to restrict all media attention from the Devourers of God, his boss telling him they’d been told by higher-ups that it was a ‘false alarm’. Whatever bullshit Todd had spun, Travis was eternally grateful, much preferring writing dull columns about local arrests of vandalism and shoplifting across Pittsburgh, rather than his deepest darkest trauma.

The three men stood outside the ice rink, already having bought their tickets and Travis having changed out of his work clothes into a blue sweater and grey jeans, waiting for Chug, Maple and their daughter to arrive, as their bus had been a little late. Travis was a little nervous, he hadn’t met the daughter yet, and he wasn’t the best with kids, his own experience with childhood not particularly providing him with the best examples of how to act around them.

He could tell Sal had noticed his nerves as they waited, as he nudged his arm with his elbow gently and looked up at him. “Hey.” He said when Larry had left momentarily to go to the bathroom. “Soda’s great I promise, she’s very intelligent for a four year old, she’ll know how to talk to you.”

“Aww you’re saying I’m so clever that people struggle to talk to me?” Travis teased, but smiled as a thank you, always feeling more comfortable when he was conversing with Sal.

“No, I'm saying you’re so awkward that a child has to be the one to lead a conversation with you.” He retorted, the smirk audible from under his prosthetic. 

Travis rolled his eyes and flipped him off, before reaching over to lean his arm on top of Sal’s head, knowing how much the other hated it. “You’re talking too much for someone who makes the perfect arm-rest.” He said casually, in a tone that wound Sal up more.

Sal squawked as Travis leaned the weight of his arm onto his head, lifting his arms up trying to pull him off, instead just making the fabric of the taller man’s sweater ruffle up his blue hair.

“What the- oh fuck you man- Get off me!!” He exclaimed, clearly fighting his own laughter as Travis uncontrollably cackled. He loved moments like that so much, where Sal brought true joy out of him. Where, just for a few moments, he didn’t have to think, just a few moments out of his long and dreary 25 years on earth where he wasn’t plagued with shame.

Though he was quickly pulled back to reality when Larry returned from the bathroom, clearing his throat as he stood next to the two of them again. Travis removed his arm from Sal’s head and stood up straight, stuffing his hands in his pockets and flashing Larry a quick and polite smile. It wasn’t like what he and Sal were doing was anything crazy, they were just two friends messing around, yet he felt sinful somehow, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

After a few minutes more of waiting, the others finally arrived, Maple holding the tiny hand of a very excitable Soda, who pulled away from the grip and came hurtling towards them.

“Uncle Saw, Uncle Lawry!” She shrieked over and over with excitement grabbing onto the two mens legs and bounding up and down as the both of them bent down and greeted her with a hug, making Travis silently sigh with relief that he wasn’t included, until the small girl turned to him.

“Hi there, I’m Soda, I’m 4 and a half!” She beamed up at him, stretching a hand out.

Travis stammered a little, unsure how to talk to a child, and turned to Sal in a panic, who just nodded encouragingly. So reluctantly he bent down a little and took her hand, even more taken aback when the handshake he received was oddly firm for a 4 year old. “I- uh-, it's nice to meet you Soda. I’m Travis, I’m 25 and five-sixths.” He replied awkwardly, earning a snort of laughter from Larry.

Once the hellos were over, and Chug had bought himself, Maple and their daughter tickets, everyone went to change into their ice skates and waddle their way onto the rink, Travis, Sal and Larry going onto the main rink whilst the other two took Soda to the childrens rink. 

Something that Travis quickly learnt, was that Sal was surprisingly decent at ice skating, zooming off on his own across the long stretch of ice whilst he and Larry clutched for their dear lives onto the railings, trying not to slip and bang their heads on rock-hard, frozen floor beneath them as they slowly pushed themselves along.

“For someone that only has one eye, that man can skate scarily well.” Larry said, after the both of them had given up their attempts to skate and leant against the barrier to watch Sal instead.

Travis chuckled, “It makes my twenty-twenty vision and I feel pretty embarrassed for not even being able to stand up right on these things.”

That earnt a snort from the brunet, followed by another few moments of silence until he spoke up again. “You know, you’re okay, Travis Phelps.” Larry looked him in the eyes momentarily, a small smile on his face, and he continued before Travis could reply.

“I mean- Sal hasn’t had it easy in life, y’know, and as much as he hates it, I’m protective of him. Like, so many people, including yourself in the past, have tried to make his life even more of the hell that it already is, and I try to do everything in my power to stop that, but you-.” He cleared his throat, awkwardness heavy in his raspy voice. “What I’m trying to say is you’re not like that, at least not anymore. Sal is so clearly happy around you and you’re so good to him, so I uh- I just wanted to thank you- basically.”

Travis felt warmth in his chest as he returned Larry’s smile. “Thank you, that seriously means a lot.” He murmured, never really sure how to respond to compliments, as he was so rarely given them. The new friendship formed between him and Larry was bizarre, good nonetheless, but foreign. Hate was something that he knew well, like an addiction to fall back on, a suit of armour to protect himself, and unlearning it was frightening and refreshing all at once, all he could do was hope that it would never come back to ruin his life like it always did.

Before he could let the panic set in, start spiralling at the thought of being consumed by hatred once again, a pair of boots came to a screeching halt at his and Larry’s feet.

“Ugh y’all are so boring, did you even attempt to skate or have you just stood here people-watching?” Sal teased, having to move quickly to stand next to Travis against the railing as a kid with more skill than the three of them combined sped past on the ice.

“Dude I’m surprised you can even move on these things!” Larry huffed. “If I let go of this barrier right now I’d fucking break my nose.”

“Okay well at least one of you needs to come skate with me.” Sal groaned.

With a wink to Travis, Larry feigned a pout. “Oh what a shame, I was just about to go help Chug and Maple with Soda on the kids rink, I guess Travis will have to join you instead.” 

The man already began shimmying himself across the ice rink towards the exit, gripping onto the metal railing to keep himself from falling on his ass, leaving a helpless Travis to inevitably make a fool of himself.

“Oh absolutely not.” Travis exclaimed, shaking his head once Larry had left. “I’m gonna break my neck.”

“Oh please, Trav.” Sal begged, tilting his head up to look at the blond, knowing exactly the way to bribe him. “We’ll go slowly, I promise. Here take my arm.”

Sal moved in front of Travis and outstretched his arm, and he reluctantly held on with one hand, grabbing onto it tightly as he slowly moved away from the barriers, wobbling violently as Sal laughed at him. The two gradually began to move, Travis still holding onto Sal’s arm for dear life, realising how comical looking it probably was to others, considering how he was at least 7 inches taller than him.

Blush dusted Travis’ cheeks as they continued to move around the ice rink, holding onto each other each time he stumbled, giggling together as Travis shrieked at every little movement. It made him wonder whether it could’ve been like that in high school in an alternate universe. If he had befriended Sal back then, properly worked through his feelings, could moments like that have happened back when it wasn’t too late?

Travis was soon dragged out of his own head as someone suddenly cut across him at lightning speed, knocking their elbow into his chest and sending him flying backwards, ultimately dragging Sal down with him. It was a painful landing on the solid, stingingly-cold ice, his head and ass throbbing in pain from the contact, and he just lay there for a few moments, staring up at the night sky, before bursting into laughter. He couldn’t contain it, clutching his stomach as he cackled, and pushed himself up off the ice to get out of people's way, expecting to see Sal laughing with him.

But Sal was already standing up, hair pulled out of the bun it had just been in moments ago, now covering his face as he stared in horror down at the broken prosthetic in his palms, shattered into 3 pieces.

Travis gasped, panic seeping into his veins as he frantically looked around for the others for help, but they were all still on the kids rink with Soda. “Holy shit- what? How did that even- are you okay? Fuck Sa-”

“The buckles undid when I hit my head on the ground. It fell off and it got skated over.” Sal's voice was quiet and shaky, a tone Travis had never heard out of him before, making him all the more anxious.

“I- Sal I don’t know what to do- fuck I’m sorry um- Larry’s all the way over there but I can go get him- or maybe we could find some superglue to fix it or-”

Sal cut him off again, his voice a little louder this time, his hair long enough to still cover his whole face, but Travis could see a sharp blue eye cut into his soul through the sea of hair as he spoke slowly but sternly. “Travis. I’m gonna need you to calm down, and take me home. Right now.” 

Travis nodded and immediately shuffled over to the railings, pushing himself along as quickly and carefully as possible to the exit, in too much of a rush to spend much time thinking about how Sal talking to him that way made his stomach flip. The two scrambled back onto the concrete floor and ripped off their ice skates, Travis telling Sal to sit down on one of the benches as he rushed over to hand back the boots and retrieve their own shoes from a locker, he also pulled his Nokia out his coat pocket, typing a quick message to Larry to explain the situation and promise him a lift back home. Soon enough, he returned to the bench Sal was sitting at, passing the man his blue converse, and slipped on his own black work shoes.

The drive home was completely silent, Sal sat in the passenger seat with his knees pulled up to his face, the remains of his prosthetic chucked in the backseat, Travis driving, eyes nervously darting over to Sal every few seconds. He decided against playing any music, letting the five minutes back to the Fisher-Johnson apartment wait out, not wanting to cause the blue haired man in his car any more distress. He was unsure of what to do or what to say, unsure of how to approach making Sal feel better, wishing he could understand the things going through his head. 

After the uncomfortably long five minutes were over, Travis parked his car in the parking lot behind Sal’s building, they walked up the flight of stairs to his apartment, Sal quickening his pace, trying to get inside as fast as possible, fumbling with the keys as he unlocked the door, hair still over his face, gesturing with his hand to let Travis inside, and walking straight over to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Travis sighed, taking that as a sign to leave the man alone for a minute, and walking over to the kitchen. He was worried for Sal, although the incident did not seem that monumentous in the grand scheme of things, he could tell how visibly upset he was, and wanted to provide at least a little comfort for him. Travis’ mind immediately wondered back to the day they reconciled, and he had lightly teased Sal for his choice of drink. He praised himself for his quick thinking, pouring milk into a random Star Wars mug and putting it in the microwave, then routing around the red cabinets for the hot chocolate powder that he was unsure they even had, silently cheering when he found it at the back of the dusty old cupboard in the corner, alongside some mini marshmallows, just to his luck.

Once the drink was done, Travis poured himself a glass of water, and carefully treaded across the hallway, balancing the drinks in each hand. With the knuckle of his left index finger, he knocked on Sal's bedroom door.

“Sal.” He spoke softly, “can I come in?”

From the other side of the door he heard some shuffling and a loud sniff, followed by a croaky “Yeah.” 

Using the same knuckle, Travis pushed open the door handle and stepped inside to see Sal sat on his bed, knees pulled back up to rest under his chin, facing the other way. He’d only been in his bedroom once or twice before, the pair usually opting to hang out in the living room instead, but this time it was a lot messier than what he had seen previously. Orange pill bottles, at least 15 of them, lay across his nightstand, seriously outnumbering Travis’ lousy sertraline that he even struggled to remember to take every morning. His wardrobe doors were wide open, following a trail of strewn clothes and underwear, and the top of the chest of drawers to the right of where Travis stood was covered in bandages and creams and saline solution.

“Um, I brought you hot chocolate.” He murmured.

Sal turned around, hair tucked behind his ears, and for the first time in his close-to ten years of knowing him, Travis saw his face.

Almost the entire right side of his face was a deep reddish-purple, like a perfectly ripe nectarine, carving deep lines across his flesh that Travis wished he could run his fingers through. Many parts of him were missing, his top eyelid gone, a glass eye, ever so slightly brighter than Sal’s other lightning blue eye, lay in the damaged socket. The cartilage in his nose was not there either, leaving a deep dent where it had once been, and a bandage was plastered over his cheek, covering what Travis could only assume to be a hole in his skin that was unable to be stitched up, possibly due to its close proximity to his jaw. The right side of his mouth was warped also, his lip twisted up and bearing his sharp, fake teeth. The left side was mostly undamaged, despite the missing nose and the scars that ran over to the other side, he even had a silver bar pierced through his eyebrow. His remaining skin was olive toned, but a lot paler than the rest of him, and his working eye was locked with his own, streaming with tears. Travis felt as though he was staring at a painting, the kind you’d find at an exhibition and spend hours being entranced by, and he had to try with all his might not to gawk at him.

Instead he walked over, sitting next to Sal on the green bed and handing him the mug of hot chocolate, taking a large gulp of his own water.

“Thank you, Travis. And sorry about how messy my room is, I wasn’t really expecting guests over today.” Sal sniffed, sipping his hot chocolate.

Travis mouthed back an “It's okay”, still stunned at the sight of Sal’s face after so long, especially up close. He remembered the rumours that were spread back in high school about the scars being from a dog attack, yet they looked too deep, too malicious intending to be from that, but Sal had never really talked about his face, and he didn’t really want to ask him about it.

Sal took a deep shaky breath and wiped his eyes. “God, I’m sorry Trav. I know the way I reacted to all this probably seems so crazy it's just..” He paused for a second, looking at Travis once again for reassurance, who nodded gently for him to continue. “It’s just, my face holds so much awful shit in my life. It’s the reason my Mom’s dead, it’s why my Dad resented me for so many years, it’s the reason I got bullied, it's the reason I have to take like twenty pills a day for shit that I don’t even remember happening. Every time I see myself in the mirror, I feel sick. No matter how many shrinks they send me to, no matter how many meds I swallow, no matter how much I try to move on, I can’t look at myself. My prosthetic gives me the tiniest amount of control that I so desperately want, so whenever an incident like this happens I feel like I’m back in that hospital, and I feel like a monster.”

He was crying again, left eye flooding with tears, and all Travis could do was shake his head and put a hand on Sal’s shoulder, shuffling closer. He couldn’t help but spot the similarities in his own life with what Sal said, despite the different circumstances. The disappearance of his mother and sisters, the treatment from his father, the reminders of it through his own appearance, and the gut wrenching feeling that all of it was his fault.

“You don’t need to apologise to me, you don’t need to apologise for anything. Sal, your face is beautiful, and I mean that. It’s not the reason for anything that’s happened to you, it’s the reason you’re alive, and that’s all that matters.” Travis whispered, eyes still locked with Sal’s.

In that moment, he could’ve sworn Sal’s gaze moved down to his lips, causing him to swallow thickly and feel a heat rising up his neck. It was painfully silent all of a sudden, the only sound being their soft breaths, and Travis’ heartbeat thumping in his own ears, waiting for whatever the other was about to do, before Sal spoke up again.

The man cleared his throat and straightened up, shuffling back on the bed a little. “Um- you should probably go pick up Larry now, it’s been like an hour and a half, Chug and Maple will be taking Soda home by now.”

Despite defeat and embarrassment for even thinking something might happen filling inside him, Travis nodded, and sure enough, pulling his phone from his back pocket, he could see a message from Larry asking him how long he’d be.

“Gosh, you’re right.” Travis said, standing up, trying to mask the disappointment in his voice as he headed towards the door. “Well I should go then.”

As his hand grazed the brass handle of the door, he heard the mattress behind him creak slightly, and a voice called out, “Wait!”

He paused, turning around to see Sal suddenly right in front of him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Travis froze for a second in shock, the two of them having never really hugged before, before embracing him back, letting his long, dark, gangly arms wrap around the smaller man’s shoulders, his dark chin resting on the sea of blue hair, holding him delicately and exhaling in peace.

“Thank you for being so good to me.” Sal whispered against his collarbone.

“It’s okay.”

“You’re such an amazing friend.”

Notes:

kicks my feet and twirls my hair ooooooooooo these boys are gayyyyy
did anyone notice the difference in description of Sal's face from Travis' and his own pov guys im rlly hoping someone picked up on that
also sorry i feel like most of this chapter was quite shittily written i got crazy writers block and i am finishing this at 4 freaking am GUYS IM SORRY GUYS PLEASE SPARE MEE!!!!

okay bai ^^

Chapter 9: comfort

Notes:

hey guys… sorry for disappearing for over a month again scratches head

I promise I have been trying to write this chapter literally the entire time but i got really stuck with writers block for a while AND i’ve just had a really busy summer so i have just not had the time to write at all, but ANYWAY i am back from holiday now and have a plan for every single chapter left in this fic so it’s looking good

After that evening, their dynamic shifted. It took Sal a while to even realise it, the intimacy blossoming naturally into their relationship. It wasn’t that kind of intimacy, obviously, he and Travis were just friends, and he wasn’t gay either. Instead it was the emotional kind, the kind where they spent more and more time in each other's apartments, watching films or playing videogames, not really going out to do normal Christmas time activities in big social groups like most people their age. They talked to each other about pretty much everything, the barrier between them had been broken. The two had a bond, a bond that was so different to the one Sal had with his brother or any of his other friends, it was something they didn’t even need to discuss with each other, the acknowledgement simply existed between the both of them, and that was that.

On one particular afternoon, Sal had gone over to Travis’ after a particularly bad episode, appearing at his door with a meek knock, unable to talk, an unpleasant handicap that often came with his flashbacks. Travis didn’t judge him for this though, didn’t drag an explanation out of him, didn’t even force him to speak, instead he just closed the door behind him and beckoned him to his bedroom. Travis sat down on his bed cross legged, Sal following suit, sighing heavily as he lay with his head in the blonde's lap, a habit that had become pretty regular in their hangouts. 

Long, soft fingers ran through Sal's electric blue hair as the two of them sat in silence. He wasn’t quite ready to take his prosthetic off yet, the lingering anxiety from his episode still sending the need to hide from the world plunging through his body. Travis was getting better and better at understanding the little unspoken needs and mannerisms that Sal had when he was like this, he knew when to leave him alone when it was all getting too much, knew when to talk his ear off about something or other to distract him from the racing of his mind. Deep down he felt a little embarrassed that the man would see him like that. Now they were older, Travis seemed a lot tougher than he was, a lot better at concealing his emotions, it wasn’t like he was super private, he’d often tell graphic, stomach churning stories of his father that made Sal want to burst into tears, but he couldn’t help but feel like there was something else, deep beneath the surface of scarred brown skin that Travis hadn’t yet told him, something he hadn’t told anyone.

It took about half an hour of Travis nattering away about irritating coworkers and the mess of his last hospital visit with his father until Sal felt comfortable enough to remove his prosthetic, straining his neck up from the man’s lap a little as his stout fingers reached for the buckles, making a muffled clicking noise as he undid them and lifted the mask off of his face, scratching an itch in the corner of his eye before delicately placing it down on the bed. He looked up at Travis with a closed-eyed smile, yet he could feel the other staring back down at him. He’d noticed him do that a lot, especially when he wasn’t wearing his prosthetic, but it was never with a look of invasive disgust like the thousands of relentless eyes that gave him that same look everyday, it was soft and warm, it made Sal feel safe, safety was good. 

“Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.” Was the first thing Sal said, mouth feeling sticky and hot after being shut for so long. “C’mon, you’ve been extra pissy recently and this is supposed to be a happy time of year, what’s up?” 

Travis scrunched his face, his thick, dark brows knitting together as he looked down at Sal, looking as though he was about to retort, before sighing, removing one hand from its tangles in the blue hair on his lap to itch his nose with the heel of his palm.

“It’s just- ugh, I don’t know Sal. I kinda fucking hate Christmas time, i don’t have the best memories associated with it I guess.” He sighed again, looking up out the window before continuing. 

“My mom and my little sisters left around this time of year, when I was 11.” Travis swallowed thickly. “They were pretty much my only lifeline, made me feel slightly more safe in my own home, but I haven’t seen them since, so.. yeah.”

Sal winced, the frosted pain in Travis’ dark eyes making a lump form in his own throat as he tried to articulate his own thoughts. “Fuck man, I don’t even know what to say, I never even really thought about you having family aside from your dad, I can’t believe they left you with him.”

“Me neither, although.. I don’t know, I think my mom saw too much of my dad in me, didn’t want to have me around- I, nevermind. Can we talk about something else? Sorry, it’s just still really difficult for me to talk about.”

Anger rose in Sal's chest, he wanted to protest, defend Travis, no way a mother could leave her own son, let alone with an abusive man. How dare she make him feel like it was his own fault for looking like him, he was a child! But he didn’t dare voice his thoughts, just nodding apologetically, and placing his hand on Travis’ in his hair for a second, reassuring him.

“Oh god- my fault for pushing, I’m sorry. Tell me about something else instead.”

Travis smiled gently, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill from his sockets, before clearing his throat and straightening up a little, Sal still on his lap. “My dad’s dying, so there’s that too.” He began.

“I’m going to visit him on Saturday, I haven’t been in about two months now, couldn’t bear to face him. But I think I’ll go this one last time, for closure or whatever they call it.” Travis sniffed, but Sal couldn’t detect any sadness in him. His face was dark and brooding, it was so specific, an expression Sal didn’t think he’d ever seen on him, a deep mixture of emotional turmoil bubbling deep beneath his skin.

“It’s so weird, Sal.” Travis continued. “I hate him, hate him more than anyone else on the planet, and as fucked up as it sounds I cannot wait for him to die.. but then at the same time, all I’ve ever known is him. Although I moved out years ago, managed to scrounge up enough money to move out of Nockfell, was able to shake off some of the control he had over me, I’ve never truly escaped him. I’m still held down by his shackles.” He lifted a hand up to his head, tugging at a tuft of curls and gesturing to them, his natural dark roots more exposed than usual, clearly being allowed to grow out for the first time in years. “I mean- up until a couple months ago I was still bleaching my hair for him, forcing myself to see him every time I look in the mirror even more, and the misfortune of my facial features already do to me.”

There was a brief moment of silence, aside from Travis’ short and sharp, spiralling sounding breaths. Sal let him take his time, locking eyes with him, lightning meeting chocolate, and running a thumb over his with a gentle nod.

“It’s just.. I think I’m scared for what life is going to be like without him. His death really feels like cutting that last string, and I don’t know what’ll happen to me, I’m just really fucking scared.”

After a pregnant pause, Sal responded, thumb lightly tracing Travis’s hand. “Dude dads are fucking complicated, aren’t they? I mean, yours is like the most evil person on the planet, obviously, and I’m so sorry you had to put up with that your whole life.”

Travis snorted at that remark, grinning dryly, letting Sal continue.

“Grief really fucked up my relationship with my dad too. It was weird, I mean, we became a lot less close, when I got old enough to be able to fulfill my basic needs on my own he basically just became drunk, like all the time, and I honestly think it was because he deep down blamed me for my moms death. But then also our shared grief for her created such a strange bond between us, like, I don’t know, it was a weird time.”

“Gosh, I always thought you and your father were pretty close, that must’ve been horrible to go through.” 

Sal shrugged, his shoulders brushing against Travis’ knees, still laying in his lap. “I mean, we are now, he sobered up when he and Lisa got together, it was just middle school and early high school that were kinda hell for a while.”

They continued to talk for a little longer, there on Travis’ bed, the rest of the world a novelty to them, Sal’s episode earlier in the day forgotten about entirely. He finally left the apartment at about 6pm, remembering Larry would be back from work, probably wondering where he was, so he bid his goodbyes to Travis and walked himself to the bus stop on the next block.

By the time he got in, it was almost 7pm, due to his bus being delayed, and he could hear Larry in the living room, no doubt stretching himself out over the entire large leather couch, on the phone with Ashley.

“Hey Larry, I’m home!” Sal called out from the hallways as he kicked off his shoes and chucked his keys on the shelf, calling out even louder for his friend on the phone to hear him, walking over into the living room. “Hey Ash!”

“And where were you? Thought you didn’t have work today?” Larry quizzed when Sal entered the room, one thick dark eyebrow raised.

“At Travis’, obviously.” He replied matter of factly, earning him a chorus of “ooo’s” from the other two. 

“So how is your boyfriend?” Ashley teased, voice slightly crackled through the shitty Nokia speaker.

Sal rolled his eyes. “Fuck off Ash, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yeah Ash.” Larry joined in, continuing the teasing. “There’s nothing gay about going round to your friend’s apartment and kissing him all day.”

“We do not- ugh, I hope both of you die awful deaths actually.” Sal retorted, raising both of his middle fingers, even though Ash wasn’t able to see it through the phone.

As the other two cackled, Sal shrugged. “You guys just don’t get it, we just like hanging out a lot, is that allowed?”

He wasn’t actually offended by the jokes his friends would make about him and Travis, he found it funny in fact, but it definitely didn’t help the inner turmoil that was already circling round his mind, sparking new found panic in him that he wasn’t sure how to get rid of. 

Sal was straight, he always had been, and Travis was really just his friend. But why did everyone think otherwise? Even if it was just a joke, what had caused it in the first place? Sure, the way he felt about Travis was different to how he felt with any of his other friends, that was for certain, but it felt different to how he felt with any of the girls he’d ever liked too. He felt too old to be worrying about his sexuality, wasn’t it shit that people normally figured out when they were like 13? Why was he even worrying about it in the first place? 

Sal knew he was straight, Travis was just a friend, a very close friend.

 

 

Notes:

hope you enjoyed !! ALSO THANK YIU SO MUCH FOR OVER A THOUSAND HITS THIS IS CRAZY I NEVER EVEN THOUGUT THIS FIC WOULD GET 100

if i hadn’t decided to be all cryptic and make each of these chapter titles one word i would’ve called this ‘the calm before the storm’ take that as a warning ^0^

see you next chapter x

Chapter 10: goodbye

Notes:

oh boy… i warned you last time, we are getting deep into the lore i have meticulously designed in my head for months now.. i am never taking writing a lighthearted chapter for granted ever again

TRIGGER WARNING !!! : this chapter contains racism and graphic depictions of physical and verbal abuse. This is between paragraphs 16-29, if these topics affect you heavily please skip over this i don't want to give anyone a freak out :( in general, this is gonna be a very difficult chapter to read, so please all take care, safe reading everyone <33

December 12th 2000, the day before Sal Fisher’s 24th birthday, that was the day Travis visited his father in the hospital one last time.

It was as though the world around him had frozen as he got dressed that morning, unusually quiet, the eternal hum of the city outside his window muffled by Travis’ whirring mind. He was unsure of what he would do or say, how he would react to seeing the man who held so much power over him so meek and frail in his final form.

It was a weird realisation for Travis, something he’d first begun to comprehend over a year previously, when his father was initially diagnosed with cancer, that the man would always be looming over him. Moving away from home didn’t get rid of him, so why would his death make any difference? Kenneth haunted every corner of his conscience, oozing through every nook and cranny of his brain like slick, black, blinding tar, he lived within him, and Travis wasn’t sure whether he’d ever really leave.

He tried not to think about it as he got dressed, settling for a grey cashmere sweater and dark blue jeans. He didn’t want to wear black, couldn’t give his father the satisfaction of believing he would be grieving him. The mirror was unbearable that morning, the low lighting of his bathroom highlighting the deep grey sacks under his eyes and the furrowed crinkles of stress between his brows, he scrubbed extra hard when he washed his face, as if it would erase his likeliness to his father, who glared at him unwaveringly through his own reflection. Travis supposed that growing his hair out had helped a little. It wasn’t exactly intentional, he didn’t necessarily mean to avoid the barbers every time he walked past it, yet he was glad that small difference altered his similarities to the man just a bit. 

The locks of blonde did look a little more unruly than what Travis was used to, the harsh contrast between the yellowy bleach tone and his natural deep brown roots that now took up at least a quarter of his hair, paired with the way ringlets sprouted out the sides of his neck and almost formed a halo around the top of his head felt weird in comparison to how short cut he’d always had it before, but he wasn’t complaining.

The drive to Nockfell Hospital was painfully quiet, but Travis couldn’t stomach the thought of dealing with any sort of noise at that moment. It was as though he was in a trance, his body completely still, both hands gripping the steering wheel, knuckles whitening at the force, eyes so locked on the road he was unsure if he was even blinking. He felt like he couldn’t move, didn’t know how maybe, so he just kept driving.

Getting out of the car was extra hard that day. Once he’d pulled into a parking space and cut the engine, he stayed in the position he’d been sitting in the entire time, hands gripping the steering wheel, staring blankly at the big grey building ahead of him for an extra five minutes. He wasn’t even thinking about anything, wasn’t panicking about seeing his father, his brain was coated with such a thick fog he didn’t even have the capacity to think. Travis was shocked that it had been only five minutes, once he’d yanked himself back into consciousness, he couldn’t really tell whether it had been thirty seconds or an hour. He sat back in his seat and blinked aggressively, trying to bring life back into his eyes, before taking a deep anticipatory sigh and stepping out of his car, slamming the door a little harder than he meant to behind him.

Once he’d checked in at the reception and taken the rickety old elevator up to the ward his father was in, he was stopped by a nurse before entering his room. She was relatively tall, with dirty blonde hair scraped back into a tight bun at the back of her head, she looked no older than Travis did, and he could’ve sworn he recognised her from high school, he prayed she wouldn’t do the same as she flashed him with a quick smile.

“I’m assuming you're the son of Kenneth Phelps?” She asked, before reaching round the door frame back into the hospital room to grab a clipboard of information that was hung on the wall.

“Um yes, I booked to visit him, I just signed in at reception.” Travis responded in his usual awkward fashion, pointing over to the elevator.

“Oh cool, cool, no that’s fine I just need to double check a few things”. She didn’t look up at him as she flipped through the pages of the clipboard, eyes moving side to side as they skirted over the bullet points. “So.. just to check you're all up to date, can I confirm that you are aware that he decided to stop his chemotherapy last month and that he’s being moved into a hospice in the next couple of days?”

Travis relaxed a little as she said that, glad it was something he already knew, having braced himself for some sort of new problem he’d need to be involved in. “Oh yes, I’ve been made aware.”

The nurse's face softened a little as she gave him a sympathetic smile and lowered her tone in a way that pissed Travis off an unreasonable amount. “So you do know he’s very likely not to make it more than a few weeks? I’m not sure how involved you are in this process yet, but I do know he had people visit to sort out the will last week, so I’m guessing you’ll find out about that soon enough.”

When he nodded darkly in response, she flashed him another polite smile and placed the clipboard back on the wall. “Well sir, I hope you have a wonderful visit, I’ll just let you know he’s just taken his pain medication, so he will probably be unconscious for most of your time.”

Travis exhaled loudly once she left, mostly in relief that she didn’t seem to recognise him, before entering the room. Like he’d been told, his father was asleep, crackled snores echoing through the blindingly white room. He walked over to the maroon chair in the corner of the room, falling back into it with an “oomph” , forgetting how low down it was. After spending several minutes trying to avoid it, looking around at every item he could see in the room instead, Travis finally looked over at his father. He did not look well in the slightest, his skin was practically grey and looked paper thin, wrinkles carved deep. It felt so wrong to see him so vulnerable, despite the amount of control he still held over Travis’ life, and, as much as he tried to push the memories back, his mind wandered back to the most scared he’d ever been of his father.

It was the morning after his mother and his sisters had escaped, a week before Christmas Day, and the house was covered head-to-toe in wreaths, fairy lights and religious memorabilia that he and his sisters had spent an entire day helping his mother decorate at the start of Advent. Travis had woken up to a deafening roar that made even his walls tremble. He’d leapt out of bed in a panic, clutching his small teddy bear tightly for support as he slipped on his blue slippers that matched his pinstriped pyjamas. It had become clear that the noise had come from his father, as he heard doors open and slam, glass shatter and heavy objects be flipped over, all while the man bellowed incoherently. Mustering all the courage he had, with a little extra strength from his teddy, Travis had crept out of his bedroom, tiptoeing across the hallway to see his father in his sisters’ room, knelt on the floor, whispering prayers to himself, a smashed family photograph beside him, shards of glass scattered on the floor. It was the one and only time Travis had ever seen his father cry, and it made him start to panic, little chest heaving as he took in his surroundings. The curtain rail had been pulled down, chunks of plaster torn off with it, leaving gaping holes in the baby pink walls. One of the desks on the right side of the room had been flipped, and a doll house had been kicked through, the flimsy plastic left with a slipper-shaped hole through the middle.

He couldn’t slow down his breathing as tears began spilling down his face. “Father, what's happened? Where's Mary and Madeline? Is Mommy here?” He began, gripping his teddy tighter than ever as tears continued to run, biting at his cheeks.

Travis could remember the gaping pit that opened up in his stomach as his father had finally looked over at him, he remembered the way his face darkened as his grey eyes landed on him, staring right into his, thin lips quivering in anger. It was still a few years before he’d hit puberty, so Kenneth towered over him as he slowly stood up, eyes unwavering.

“You.” He’d said, and those words were enough to make Travis start shaking violently, trying with all his might to stop himself from crying, but the stinging tears gushed even heavier. 

His father had let out more barely coherent screams, repeating his words over and over, accusing him of being behind it all.

He shook his head furiously, breath growing quicker as he stumbled backwards into the doorway. “N-n-no Father, I promise! I don’t know what's happening, I- Where did they go? Why have they left us? I promise they didn’t tell me anything. It's not my fault, it's not my fault!” He shrieked.

“BULLSHIT” His father boomed back. He’d never heard him swear before that, having always preached about it being a sin, and Travis was so stunned by that that he did notice his father’s arm swing. And that was when he took his first blow, large, boney knuckles colliding into his jaw.

Travis barely even had time to react, other than letting out an echoing yelp that made his throat go raw, the sound bouncing off the walls. His father grabbed him by the collar of his blue pinstriped pyjamas and dragged him forwards, right up to his face as he crouched. His ears were ringing so loud he struggled to hear anything else, the world moving in slow motion, everything around him frozen in time.

“Look at you.” He snarled, spit spraying onto Travis’ chin, though he didn’t dare wipe it off. He recalled thinking how much the man looked like a stray dog in that moment, the way his lips twisted, sharp teeth bared as his hot, rotten breath clouded his nostrils. “You look exactly like her, this is all your fault!” 

A second blow. Kenneth removed a hand from Travis’ collar, slapping him hard around the cheek, the sound ceaseless in his ears, stinging far harder than his tears which still poured down his face.

“You’ve got her disgusting genetics.” He barked, more spit leaving his mouth. “You’ll never be pure in the eyes of the Lord. Never!” His father's eyes glistened with a rage Travis would never be able to erase from his memory as he stood up slowly, still gripping onto him by the collar as he dragged him backwards. 

It was sudden, the moment the man in front of him yanked him by the hair and slammed his head against the wall. Burning hot pain pierced his skull, the wet feeling of blood pooling on the back of his head. Travis tried to scream, but the sensation was caught in his throat as a hand wrapped tightly around his neck, causing a shrill wheeze to leave his mouth instead. His eyes widened, thrashing around frantically, trying to escape the hand.

“One. And I mean one , wrong move from you and I am drowning you in bleach until you are the same colour as me.” His father growled. “Do you hear me boy?”

Travis nodded with all his might, and the hand was finally removed from his neck. He immediately collapsed to the floor, choking and heaving as air scorched his lungs, curling himself up into a tight ball as he sobbed, praying over and over his mother would rescue him as he held his teddy bear so tight he thought it might shred.

He didn’t realise it, but tears were spilling out Travis’ own adult eyes as he pulled himself back into reality, knee bouncing up and down vigorously as he counted his fingers over and over again to distract himself. 

Too busy trying to calm himself down, Travis didn’t notice his fathers eyes open for a couple of minutes, ultimately jumping out of his skin as he heard a weak voice croak a hello.

“Hello, Father.” He replied, quickly wiping away the tears from his eyes and sighing shakily.

“I hate this medication these people are making me take, Travis.” Kenneth spoke, turning his head to face his son, grey eyes unfocused, clearly very high. “I try to tell them that I am in God’s hands, alas they do not listen. All these do is cause me more pain.”

The man continued to babble away, the effects of his medication not wearing away, and when Travis did not respond, he tutted and turned his attention back to him, his voice making a whistling sound that made him want to claw his ears out.

“I know that I do not have much longer left to live.” He began. “It’s time you stopped disrespecting me and acted like a proper son. Your lack of involvement with the Devourers of God has been astonishing that I feel you do not even deserve this opportunity, but it is ultimately the case that you will become the new leader when I pass on.”

The way he worded it like he was doing him a favour made Travis’ lip curl in anger, infuriation filling him to the point where his leg began to bounce up and down with the same vigour as before.

“Don’t you dare give me that look Travis.” His voice was still packed with venom, despite how fragile it was. “You’re the heir, you know you have no other choice. My people will come for you once you have come to your senses.”

All he could do was stay silent, rage bubbling beneath his skin. He wanted to lash out, wanted to scream in the man's face, but once again, he found himself stuck, unable to move.

By the grace of God, the nurse whom he'd met at the door walked back into the room, gently letting him know that his visiting hour was over. Travis thanked her and immediately stood up out the chair, walking towards the door.

“Goodbye Father.” He said simply, he could not bring himself to bid the man a proper fair well.

Yet he stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway, swallowing thickly as his fathers voice mimicked that same tone from that morning all those years ago that echoed the walls of Travis’ brain.

“Look at you.” He began. “You are the most pathetic excuse for a son a man could ever wish for. I don’t deserve to have a disgusting faggot like you as my child, oh how you plague me.”

Travis didn’t even turn around, hand gripping onto the door frame, his back teeth grinding down on each other as he responded quietly. “You’re going to get an awful shock the day you find yourself burning in hell for eternity, Kenneth Phelps.”

And he left.

Notes:

i dont really have much to say tbh, just want to give poor travis the biggest hug ever :(