my dreams are just dreams // sally face x travis phelps

Chapter I

1:39 am: Unknown number: can i come over?

Sal stares at his phone sleepily, trying to figure out who this number was. All his friends were registered on his phone, so it could only be... Travis, the new kid. Sal heard he got into a fight and got expelled from his last school, a private one.

All of his friends thought Travis was a stuck up brat, but Sal saw him differently. He could see the way Travis' demeanor crumbled whenever his father was mentioned. He saw the way the blond always came to school beat up. Most importantly, Sal noticed the way his stomach would start doing cartwheels and his heart would start beating faster any time he saw Travis. Why? He didn't know. Certainly, he can't have a crush on the same person that bullies him everyday. The easy part was slipping in his phone number into Travis' locker. The hard part was waiting to see if he'd respond. Sal celebrated quietly and texted back.

1:42 am: Sally Face: yep! apt number is 402. r u okay?

Sal tapped his foot against the floor as he anticipated the next response. He changed the contact information to Travis' name as he waited.

1:43 am: Travis: im fine, ill be there soon

Sal quickly stood up and strapped on his prosthetic. He rushed to the bathroom to find a brush and two hairbands which he could use to tame his frizzy hair. Putting on a t-shirt and shorts, he waited anxiously next to his door, watching the minutes tick by on his phone.

Knock, knock. Sal jumped at the sound, and regulated his breathing until he opened the door. There he was, Travis. The same person that had plagued his mind over the course of the past days. As his eyes trailed around, he spotted wounds and bruises on his arms and face.

"Are you okay? Here, come in, I'll make you some tea," Sal grabbed Travis' arm, only to let go as Travis flinched hard. Sal's eyes widened but he said nothing.

"I'm sorry," Travis whispered.

"Don't be, you have nothing to be sorry for. Follow me," Travis staggered after Sal, which made Sal notice the limp on his right foot. He directed Travis to the couch and ran to the bathroom to grab the first-aid kit. He came back to the couch to find Travis quietly crying, trying to cover up his sniffles. Sal sat next to him slowly, trying not to make him flinch.

"Can I... hug you?" Sal carefully asked. Travis hesitantly nodded. As Sal put his hands around Travis, he made sure not to let go even after Travis flinched. Suddenly, Sal felt hands grasping at his t-shirt as Travis hugged him back, sobbing onto his shoulder. Sal's own eyes watered, sensitive to seeing people cry. He whispered reassurances to Travis as he held him. Slowly, Travis had calmed down and steadied his breathing before pulling away. Travis felt uncomfortable, crying on someone.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have came," Travis looked away, suddenly embarrassed by his tired state. He felt Sal's eyes staring at him as he picked his scabs. Sal hand't noticed his behaviour until he looked down. He grabbed Travis' hands to stop him from picking, only to make him flinch in the sudden movement. He held Travis' hands as they both stared at each other.

"Don't be sorry. I have my aid-kit here, so I can treat your wounds. Don't pick at your scabs, I know it's hard but please don't do it," Sal whispered as he squeezed Travis's hands. He felt Travis stare at him, and oblivious to the boy, Sal was flushed under his mask. He felt giddy, holding Travis' hands. He gulped and released his hands and thoughts.

"Here, give me your arms," Travis looked at Sal as his eyes widened.

"M-my arms are fine, I'll be okay," he muttered through gritted teeth, imagining scenarios as Sal found out about his addiction.

"No, Travis, it won't be okay. Please let me see them, I don't want wounds to get infected," Sal softly said. Travis breathed in shakily and turned his arms outward toward Sal as he looked away. Sal softly gasped.

Travis' light brown skin was covered in scratches and cuts. Tears sprung in both of the boy's eyes, one from embarrassment and one from pity.

"Oh, Travis," Sal's hushed words woke Travis from his thoughts.

"Don't," Travis said as he gulped air into his lungs. He tore his arms away from Sal, hiding them behind his back. He flinched as Sal hugged him, trying to calm him down. He took Travis' hands into his own and squeezed them.

"It's okay, Travis. Honestly..." Sal hesitated. "I used to do that too. It took a while for me to stop, but I promise it gets better," Travis sat there in silence, processing the information. Sal grabbed the aid-kit.

"Can I?" Travis nodded and gritted his teeth as the hydrogen peroxide hit his skin. Every time the cotton ball touched his skin he would flinch, but his eyes remained closed as Sal cleaned his wounds. He gingerly opened his eyes as he watched Sal roll gauze around his arm, concealing the wounds. He took a deep breath.

"Is there more?"

"On... my thighs," Travis gulped. He braced himself as Sal watched him roll his shorts up. The sting of the peroxide was familiar and he stopped flinching as much. Sal put bandaids on and asked, once again.

"Is there more?" Travis searched for any emotion on Sal's hidden face.

"Yeah. But not from me," Sal raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything.

"Where?"

"Under my shirt," Sal could see that Travis was hesitant to show him the wounds on his chest, but Sal had all the patience in the world.

"Do you want me to take it off or...." Sal blushed at his own question. Travis seemed to also be surprised, as a pink tone took his cheeks.

"No, I can do it," Travis took the ends of his shirt and slowly rolled it up until the shirt was off. Sal audibly gasped at the sight of his chest and back. He saw bruises, cuts, cigarette burns, and so, so many scars.

"Shit, Travis. Who the fuck did this to you?" Travis mumbled something.

"What?"

"My...dad." Sal saw red. What kind of father would do this to his own son? Sal took deep breaths and waited for the nod of consent before cleaning the wounds. After he was done, Sal went to his room to get a t-shirt for him to wear. He returned to the couch and gave Travis the t-shirt.

"I don't think a bloody t-shirt is very comfortable," Sal tried to make a joke. It worked, as Travis smiled a little and waited for Sal to retreat into his room as he changed.

"I'm done!" Travis said. Sal came back and sat with Travis.

"Anything else?"

"My ankle feels funny and my head is a little dizzy, but otherwise I'll be fine." Sal nodded. He helped Travis up into his room and locked the door, incase of any intruders.

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