Denial (Salvis)

You Don't Know Anything About Me {9}

Tw: Mentions of abuse, homophobia, religious trauma

A/N

I rewritten this multiple times because I felt like it wasn't good enough, so I apologize if it seems off, I almost gave up on this chapter but I told someone I'd post it today so I pulled through :). I'd also like to ask for your feedback, what I can do to make my writing better. I often feel as though I add too many details and make it longer than it needs to be, if you disagree or agree with this please comment and tell me, I'll adapt my writing style to the reaction! I'm also Canadian, and all the spelling suggestions are in American English so sorry if I spell words slightly differently! Also please lmk if I make any grammar, spelling or punctuation mistakes!

        The pit in Travis's stomach was slowly eating away at him, with every passing second, he lost more and more of himself to the endless void of anxiety. His breaths came in short, choppy waves, his throat seemed to tighten as he stepped closer to the large, brick building. Travis lowered his head, desperately trying to hide his face from his peers. By the time Travis had returned home from the Addison Apartments the night before, his face was thoroughly soaked with tears, his eyes bloodshot, his heart wreaked with panic. Nobody was meant to find out about his self destructive tendencies, and the thought of someone knowing, especially Sal, more than mortified him. Kenneth wasn't happy with his son's demeanor, his tainted belief in proper masculinity only made Travis's situation worse. Travis looked up for a moment to scan the crowd for Sal, silently praying that he wouldn't notice the new injuries to his face. The punishment for his unmanly behavior was severe, his lip was split open, dried blood darkened the open wound, dark bruises trailed from his neck to his left cheek, the broken cartilage in his nose had only worsened after the most recent beating, his eyes were still inflamed from his violent sobbing the previous night. Travis ducked down again, quickly moving to the now open doors to the school. Sal was no where to be seen, maybe he wasn't at school? Any hopes of Sal not attending that day dissipated, as Travis locked eyes with shorter, blue-haired boy standing in front of his locker. His stride faltered, Travis considered returning later to put away his things, but decided on a different solution. He approached the locker, standing next to Sal.

"Travis! I'm so sorry about how things ended, I'm just concerned about- oh my god! What happened to your face?" Sal's tone of voice changed drastically after noticing his heavily damaged face.

"Look who's talking." Sal stepped backwards, allowing Travis to open his locker and dump his unused books into it.

"What? I thought you were trying to change? Why are you acting like this? I'm sorry if I hurt you, but you know that was never my intention!"

"Why am I acting like this? Why are you snooping through my business, freak? Leave me alone already." Travis slammed the small, metal door shut loudly, making Sal flinch away.

"Please just talk to me, we're friends."

Travis scoffed in amusement, "Friends? Why would I ever want to be friends with someone like you?"

The pain in Sal's eyes sent waves of guilt rippling through his chest, why was he acting like this? Maybe because of the vulnerability he faced, it was nothing like Travis had ever felt before, or perhaps the immense amount of self hatred due to his sexuality, the blame of which, he'd shifted onto Sal. He was why he felt like this, Sal was why God would never love him. 

"I-, Travis, you don't mean that. Please stop, please talk to me. I only want the best for you, you need help, Travis."

"Don't tell me what I need! You don't know anything about me, you're nothing but a filthy, fucking faggot."

"Look who's talking." Sal mimicked Travis's earlier words quietly, nobody else in the crowded hallway could hear him, but Travis could. His face contorted into pure rage, without thinking, he reached out towards Sal and gripped the back of his head, grasping at the hairs which were tightly tied into pigtails. He forced the shorter boys face into the lockers to his left with his entire body weight. Sal cried out in pain, sinking to the floor once Travis released the firm grip on his hair. Blood began to drip out of the eye holes of Sal's prosthetic, his screams of agony silenced the rest of the students in the hallway, all eyes drawn to the two.

"What the fuck did you do?" A voice broke the stillness, a tall, long-haired metal head emerged from the mix of people. Larry's voice was furious, his face was twisted into an enraged glare. He approached Travis faster then anticipated, grabbing him by the throat and shoving him against the same lockers used to bash Sal's face. Travis attempted to speak, but the only noises that came out were pathetic croaks, Larry's hand was cutting off oxygen flow. He gasped hopelessly for air, digging his fingernails into the hand around his neck. His vision started to become blurry, when a different voice spoke, slightly muffled.

"Larry, that's enough. Make sure Sal is okay, violence won't solve anything."

Larry hesitantly did as he was instructed, freeing Travis and kneeling down over Sal. Travis steadied himself against the wall of lockers, vigorously gulping air. Once he'd regained enough oxygen to properly function, Travis looked up to his savior, Todd. They made eye contact, Todd was never easy to read, but he could tell that he wasn't even mad, just upset. 

"What happened? Jesus Christ, Travis! What did you do?" Phillip joined by Travis's side, looking at Sal in shock. Travis didn't bother responding, the situation seems pretty self explanatory.

"Hello, Phillip. You should take Travis to the nurse, he probably sustained a decent injury from Larry." Oddly enough, Todd's monotone voice offered some sort of comfort to him. 

        "Hello, is this Mr.Phelps? Yes, Travis got into an altercation this morning and must be sent home, we'd like to discuss punishments first, however. Would you be available to come into the school? Thank you." The nurse hung up the phone, scanning the school phonebook for Sal's father's phone number. Travis glanced to his side, making eye contact with Sal, who was across the room from him. He must've been staring at Travis before he looked, Sal's mask had been taped back together. The force from being smashed into the locker broke his prosthetic into two pieces, his blood dried on the mask, making it look like he was crying blood.

"Boys, I'll be right back, don't kill each other while I'm gone!" Her joking tone didn't land well in the tense room. The door shut behind her, signaling Sal to speak.

"What the hell was that for, Travis? Even if we weren't friends, we were something!" Travis frowned and looked away, shame bubbling in his chest.

"Say something, man!"

Travis looked back to Sal, a tear running down his face.

"Why do you care so much about what I do with my body? You've never given a shit about me before, so don't act like you do now."

Sal paused before responding, "I used to struggle with my mental health, I wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone, I already told you, I don't hate you."

"You should." Travis sniffled, blinking the tears from his eyes, letting them fall down his cheeks.

"Why?"

"I'm disgusting, Sal. I'm going to hell and everyone knows it."

"If this is about you being gay, Travis, then I'm sure God can find a way to forgive you. You can't help who you love, and I think it's wonderful that you've discovered this part of yourself."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you knew the whole story." Travis mumbled his words, unsure of if he wanted Sal to hear his them.

"Can you tell me the whole story, then?"

Travis stopped, he couldn't tell him, but what if he did? Sal already said he cared, he was an accepting person, maybe he'd also accept Travis's affection?

"I think I- oh god," his voice was shaking, making it hard to speak, "I think I-"

The door to the nurses office swung open, she'd returned. 

"Travis, Sal, please come down to the main office, we'll be speaking about the little incident this morning. Your fathers are here now, we'll be calling Larry down as well shortly."

Word count: 1411