Chapter Text
Travis growled, his face snarling in frustration. Fucking Larry. Fuck him. Travis sat there, on his knees, trembling. The stupid note crumbled into the shape of his fist as he tried to calm his breathing. Sal. I need to talk to Sal. The dial tone startled him, rocking back violently.
“Travis?”, his phone crackling to life.
“I found a note, baby blue. You want to know what it says?” His voice catching slightly.
“Trav, are you okay?”
“Shut the fuck up! I asked if you wanted to know what it says!” Travis’s voice raised without his permission.
“What does it say?” Baby blue asked quietly.
“Goodbye, Blondie. Fucking...goodbye, blondie!” His hand tugging through his hair.
The other end went quiet. “Where are you?” he asked after a long moment.
“Treehouse”, immediately hanging up on Sal.
Travis gathered the jacket on the floor, breathing in the dusty scent of cigarettes and leather. With the lining already ruined, Travis took his knife and cut out the scrapped fabric, his elbow holding it down. Folding the note in the pocket, he slid on Mr. Johnson’s jacket, awkwardly using his one functioning hand to put it around his other arm. Frowning softly, he glanced around; the feeling that Larry will burst out of the treeline to cuss at him wrapped around the treehouse. The feeling of smiling disdain. The leather felt cool against his skin, making him shiver. The Puerto Rican stared at the aged walls, but his thoughts were everywhere. The only interruption of his thoughts was caused by the creaking of the steps outside.
Sal’s blue head popped into view, his pigtails waving ‘hi’. If you were looking closely, the corners of his eyes crinkled to his smile. Sally clambered up the rest of the way, stepping into the little house. He sat down next to Travis, staring at his new black jacket. His small hand drifted across the sleeve as he laid his head down on Travis’s shoulder.
“Is this Larry’s….?” The question is left hanging in the air.
Travis didn’t know how to answer; he only nodded his head. Sal let out a choked noise and buried his mask into Travis’s neck. In any other context, Travis would be blushing like a bride-to-be, but it was hard to swallow Larry’s disappearance.
“Do-Do we stay home from school tomorrow?” Travis blurted out, disrupting the stony silence. Sal found it within himself to start giggling. The giggles started to increase in volume until it was choking laughter emitting from his belly, but it started taking on a darker form. Travis fell backward, landing on his ass. He saw his father behind those dark chuckles and could feel each scar being dealt. Sal wasn’t laughing anymore.
“Where is he?” Sally asked under his breath, his tone wistful and subdued.
“Did you ever finish checking the woods? The temple?”
“The temple was quiet, only some movement from the skeletons. We covered most of the woods, but not all of it. Honestly, we’ve searched most of the town.”
“Come on, let’s keep looking just a little longer.” Travis was already halfway out of the tree and rapidly descending. Sal followed after him, eyebrows furrowing.
They spent hours walking around, asking and calling for Larry. Nockfell isn’t a big place, but the boys acted like it was. The sun had sunk below the horizon by the time Sally Face called it quits.
“Trav, we should go home. This is getting us nowhere.”
“Well, he has to be somewhere! Don’t take that fucking loser tone with me, bitch.”
“Hey Travis, what the fuck? I’m trying to help you out, man, so could you chill out for two fucking seconds and look around? We haven’t accomplished anything and we have looked for hours. Let’s go back.” Sal pleaded.
Travis was fuming, “Yeah. I know we have done nothing! But this is my fucking fault, I dragged you both into this. Maybe instead of jumping up my ass, you leave me alone. This isn’t your problem anyway.”
Sal had to take a deep breath, struggling to respond. “Trav, how is this your fault?”
“You guys...wouldn’t be a target for my dad. You guys could just enjoy each others’ company, not have to help me, Larry would still be here. You guys would be better off without me. I’m sorry for bringing you both into this.” Travis couldn’t meet Sal’s eyes.
“It is okay, we want to help you. Not just now, but in the future too. You’ve grown already, so much, and we want to help you continue. We would probably be a target for your dad anyway. Come on, let’s head back and get some sleep.”
“Actually, I’m gonna go for a walk. I need to clear my head. I’ll meet you at your place in an hour or so, okay?”
“I- okay...Stay safe, man. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Travis pecked Sal’s mask and walked off, leaving Sal concerned and conflicted. He turned back towards the apartments and screamed, anguished. The grass felt soft on his skin and the stars looked beautiful. His emotions distracted him from the view. His therapist told him it was better for him to try to identify what he was feeling when he felt overwhelmed, so he laid in the dark and recounted his day.
Frustration
Anxiety
Loneliness
Abandonment
Pain
He closed his eyes, focusing on the reasons why. Why was Larry gone? Was he feeling this way too? They were so close, they often shared the same sentiments at the same time. If he was still here. Sally Face shot up, eye wide. He can’t start thinking like that. Larry won’t be dead. He needed Larry, his brother. Sal didn’t know if he could survive this disappearance if it resulted in Larry’s death. Sally Face brushed himself off and walked back home. He needed to find Gizmo and get some rest.
Travis was surrounded by darkness as he walked to the baseball field. The air felt colder the longer he walked, or maybe that was just him. He deserved the cold. He knew he could never recover his bat; his dad had taken and destroyed it, but he can at least remember the joy he got from playing. What he wasn't expecting was finding Philip in the back corner of the dugout. "Philip? Can I bum a cigarette?" Travis called out.
Philip jumped up and lifted his arms, ready to fight. “Travis?! What the hell are you doing here?” He looked taken aback, enough to relax his stance.
“Honestly, I’m not sure. I just needed some air. So, can I have one?”
The blue-haired boy scoffed. “You still don’t have any manners. I thought your dad was against that shit.”
“Yeah, my father is, but are you him, shithead? Wanna bring up my daddy right now, really?”
“You are still so hot-headed. And here you were asking me for a favor.”
Travis fell silent, cursing in his head. “I-.. May I please have a cig?” He looked like he had just swallowed an entire peeled lemon.
“Sure, man. God, how have ya been?” He asked, handing Travis a cigarette and flicking his lighter.
Travis leaned in and lit up his cancer stick, “Survivin’ man, got me a boy though.” Philip looked up with a partial grin, clapping Travis on the shoulder.
“You’ve grown, dude. The kid I met in the youth group is nothing like you now.”
“Is that a good or bad thing?”
“A good one. You seem more comfortable in your own skin, my guy. It is all I ever wanted for you.” Travis winced at that.
“No hard feelings, right? I shouldn’t have toyed with you like that.”
Philip was already shaking his head, “Nah, I got over it years ago. So tell me about your man. You must feel pretty strongly about him to tell me that quickly.”
Travis got a distant look in his eye as he talked about Sal Fisher; it made Philip smile faintly. He remembers when Travis used to talk about him like that. Philip crushed the itch of bitterness that crept up. He knew that Travis was emotionally unavailable when they were together. It was only two or three times, he can’t remember. They had shared warmth in the tents at bible camp. They had been paired as a troublemaker and saint, ironically Travis was the saint. Of course, the troublemaker made the first move, asking if it was okay if he got off in the same space that Travis was sleeping. Travis then proceeded to try to block out the muffled groans of his tentmate. Too bad he had his own tent to handle. Travis had waltzed over and demanded help from Philip, thus beginning their weird relationship and future sexuality crisis.
“Anyway, what about you? Why’d you stop comin’ to youth?” Philip was pulled from his memories.
“I-... I hate your father. He made me hate the church.”
“....yeah, me too.” Philipp looked up at him, curious and slightly concerned.
“Man, your whole life is that church. I never thought I’d hear you say that out loud. Are you okay?”
“I mean...no? I’m getting better, but damn, dude, my life has been so shitty.”
Philip just bobbed his head in agreement. “Cheers to that.”
“You don’t have a drink, dumbass.”
“Fuck you, cheers with me using your cig.”
Travis laughed, pure and unfiltered. He raised his cig to Philip and took a deep inhale.
“Give me your number, blondie.”
Travis felt his elevated mood crash. “Don’t call me that.”
He took a long drag before responding, “Sorry, man. I won’t. Give me your phone number, Travis. Please?”
Blondie gave a resigned sigh and handed over his flip phone.
Contact added: Other Blue Bitch <3
Travis wanted to chuck his phone desperately. The other finished off his cigarette, stomping it into the dirt. “Later, altar boy.”
“You know that doesn’t work because we were both altar boys, right?”
“Shut up, Phelps.”
And he did.