A/N: I know, I know. It's weird. But think about it. Think about all their little "moments" together. Plus, they're my two favorite characters. v
Warnings: slash (Trally), minor, lime, a few fuzzy bunny moments, AU and reasonable OOC; and, of course, the required angst.
Summary: Losing Lily, and then Bridget (twice) has changed Travis. The constant cut-downs from a domineering father don't help much either. Bit by bit, he began to drift from Lily, Robbie, and Ray into his own world. Soon, he changed the outsides to match the insides. Who can save him, and look beneath what he's become?
Beneath
by HoldenHitHollywood
Chapter One: The Freak In The Mirror
It's seven AM, and he's staring into the mirror. He realises that he never used to care this much about his appearance, not until... three months ago. He shakes his head and wonders, Has it really been that long?
The reflection staring back at him is a face that has evolved slowly since the day he broke. He studies himself. Black hair with a vibrant blue streak running through the right side of his bangs. Eye's lined heavily with black, eyelids shimmering grey, making his eyes appear wider than before; an openness he craves but can never quite reach. His lips are black too, as are most of his clothes. He touches his face, the one he's not entirely sure he recognises, and sees black nailpolish covering his fingernails.
He sighs and looks at the clock. He's spent fifteen minutes staring into the mirror. He'll probably be late for school. He grabs his book bag with no great enthusiasm, and heads for the door. Today is going to be a great day.
He approaches the attendance office cautiously, lining up behind two other people. The line progresses quickly, and he plays with the silver mood ring on his right ring finger. It can't decide between black or blue. Then the person in front of him walks out of the office. The woman at the desk looks up at him, one eyebrow quirked. She smiles faintly.
"So, Mr.Strong, late again, I see?" She say this as she writes his name down on a chart that Travis is very familiar with.
Travis grins and replies, "Late again, Mrs.Johnson. Maybe I'll start coming in early, mix it up a little."
"It would make my job easier," Mrs.Johnson says, looking up. "Okay, now, what's your reason for being tardy?"
"Overslept." This is said by the both of them; it's the excuse Travis always uses. Mrs.Johnson had given up asking him what the real reason was about one month, a week, and two days ago. The truth is that he wakes up each morning not believing he's even real. It takes him a while to get used to himself. And he's counted exactly how long ago it was that she stopped asking; he likes to keep track of when people stop talking to him, or caring about him. It's his own little special form of masochism.
"Alright, m'dear, you are all set." She hands him a hall pass, and shoos him out of the office, grinning. "Now leave, and I never want to see you back here. Got it, Mr.Strong?"
He nods and grins as he exits. When he reaches his locker, however, his grin fades into a resigned frown. He should know better than to think that today might actually be different from any other day. He touches the black writing there, and his hand comes away clean. Great, he thinks, it's probably permenent. Usually he'd just sigh and shrug, and start putting his books away, but today he just drops his book bag, and falls forward to lean against the word. FREAK. Normally, he doesn't care because he's used to it. But today is different for some reason. No matter who he is, he will never fit in. It's shallow, yes, but nice too, if you find the right people. And he wants that back, for just a moment.
The bell rings, signifying the end of first period, and knocking him out of his daze. He picks his book bag up, and opens his defaced locker. He has just begun putting books in it when a voice sounds from behind him.
"Some people in this school are dumb." He turns to face Parker, who's looking at him with that perpetual smile of hers. Unnerving, and at the same time comforting. He doesn't say anything; it's been so long since one of his peers really spoke to him, he doesn't know what to say. Parker seems to get this. "Don't worry about it. Whoever wrote it is obviously too chicken to say it to your face. They're not even worth thinking about."
"Thanks." And it comes out so easily that he surprises himself. But only for a moment. "I'm used to it, anyway." He closes his locker door, and the garishness of the word hits him again. It shows in his eyes.
"Yeah," Parker says, lightly touching his arm, "but that doesn't make it hurt any less."
He turns to look at her again, and her smile hits somewhere deep inside of him. As she walks off and waves at him, he thinks about it. Just one small moment of true human connection, and he's practically undone. It's pathetic, but at the same time comforting. At least he knows that there's someone there, just off in his peripheral vision; someone he didn't completely push out of his life. He walks to class.
World Civ is boring for once. Usually Travis would enjoy learning about ancient civilizations, but today his own problems are occupying his mind. Thoughts buzzing around his brain like bees, poised to sting. He's chewing on the end of his mechanical pencil when the announcement comes on the loudspeaker. "The following students please report to the Principal's office immediately: Margaret Gelbart, Simon Brown, Ashley Owens, Travis Strong, and Horace Green." The ooohs and aaahs annoyed Travis, and nothing more. The only ones who didn't really comment were Robbie and Lily. Ray had opted for US History, seeing as he had failed it last year. Travis gathered his things and made his way down the hall to Wally's office. He had been calling him Wally ever since Maggie had used the name. He found it amusing, especially when he called the Principal "Wally" to his face. He loved that flustered look of indignation and confusion.
He checks in with the secretary, and takes a seat between Ashley Owens and Maggie. Maggie merely nods at him with music blaring from her headphones. It's The Beatles, and Travis finds himself bobbing his head to the music. Other people find it odd that Maggie listens to The Beatles, but Travis knows and appreciates that she is an enigma wrapped up in a riddle. He patiently waits for his name to be called. Finally, after Horace is released from the office, it's Travis's turn. Waller appears at the doorway. He smiles in his sardonic way.
"Ah, Mr.Strong. So nice of you to show up. Shall we?" Travis gives Wally his own half smirk and follows him into his office. They both sit down, Travis sitting up straight as always, and staring at Mr.Waller.
"So, Mr.Strong. Do you know why you're here?" Wally has his hands folded on his desk. Travis copies him, earning a 'so you wanna play that game?' look.
"I'm not exactly sure, no."
"Well," Waller says, lifting a piece of paper up in front of him and studying it for a moment, "it seems you've been late five times in as many days. No to mention last week. And the week before that. I'm sure you get the picture." Waller puts the paper down and looks at Travis.
"So, Wally, what's it gonna be? Saturday detention? Suspension?" Travis leans back slightly in his seat, staring at the older man sitting in front of him. As he stares, he can't help but notice the exhaustion that emanates from him. The tan skin is smooth and tired, and he wants to touch it. What? He stops thinking, and Waller starts talking.
"Travis. I'm concerned. Your grades have been slipping, and I have noticed a distinct lack of socialization. Are things going well at home?" Travis just looks down. He wants to tell him everything, and he can't figure out why. He's not really concerned, anyway, just doing his job. And Travis doesn't begrudge him that. But he wants to.
"What can I say? Nobody wants to hang out with the school freak." It comes out harsher than he thinks he feels it. And Waller just sits there for a moment.
"And what's going on at home?" He has a knowing look in his eyes that absolutely infuriates Travis. He just barely hides that anger when he replies.
"Nothing much."
Waller nods, seeming to concede for the moment. "Alright then. I'll be seeing you the next three Saturdays, Mr.Strong. You may return to class."
They continue to stare at each other for a full minute before Travis finally break the gaze, collects his things, and leaves the room. As he walks down the hall to math, he silently simmers. He somehow knows. And it's unnerving, to say the least. And he wants to touch him; touch Wally. Waller. Mr.Waller. That's right, he thinks, Mr.Waller: your PRINCIPAL! He stops screaming at himself in his head when he reaches the classroom. All he does is sit in the back left corner of the room, and try not to be too obvious about his confusion. And he knows it's ridiculous to think that other people can see what he's feeling, but he does it nonetheless; it's just a silly little human characteristic.