Travis barely noticed the ticks of blood hitting the floor and the sopping wet feeling of his jeans. All Travis could do was stare blankly at the wood where his hand used to be. Silence was the only thing brave enough to meet his shuddering sobs. Weak. Baby.
Sal and Larry were panicked, to say the least. When Sal had to trace back to look for Travis, he had found the kitchen empty. With varying levels of fear, both boys began to search intensely for Travis. They finally concluded that he was gone. Sal felt his heart in his feet as they took a walk of shame with all of Travis's things. Larry was just confused. Why did he disappear? He was only gone for a few minutes. Unless…."Sal, we need to get back to Addison Apartments, fast. I think I might know where Travis may be."
Two fast paced footsteps echoed against the bright sky. Within minutes, and two rather out of breath people, they reached the front door of their home. The elevators could not go fast enough. They fled down the stairs in a confused state of worry. When they reached the open chasm, nothing really struck them as off. Without words, Sal and Larry divided into the two paths needed to open the main doors.
Sal felt as though he had seen every single corner of the cult's den. Exhausted, he slumped down against a wall. He felt as though he could hear the blood rushing in his veins. Suddenly, he caught something faint. A noise, delicate and sad. Leaping up, Sal blindly moved towards the sound. Weird, he hadn't noticed that panel on the floor before. Once he stepped on it, a small opening presented itself. Without a second thought, Sal entered the foreboding hallway.
Larry felt pretty useless. He dragged Sal down here and he had no idea where Travis is. All the puzzles where a blase mash up of dusty wall. All he could do is hope for something to change. Larry clenched his teeth and drove his hand through a wall. Now, when you punch a wall, you expect a hard punch back, right? To Larry's surprise, a satisfying crunch opened the wall up enough to peer through it. Are these….tapes? The old fashioned block tapes laid before his. There were roughly ten from what he could see. Suddenly, Larry felt very nauseated. Words from Travis himself struck him. His father….no. Bile raised in his throat as he staggered back like he had been shoved. That didn't make sense, how had Mr. Phelps gotten into the wall? Relief washed over him. There was no way, right? It was most definitely videos of the cult activity. Larry could use this for proof. Grabbing one, Larry headed towards the place that he always met with Sal.
Travis felt more and more light-headed as the echoing steps of his father neared him. His gut had jumped out and ran away a long time ago. His breathing labored as he felt a panic attack rising in his chest. Head curled into his chest, his hand pulsated in reminder of what was to come. Travis closed his eyes in anticipation, trying not to hear the clatter of footsteps. A gasp rang out before him, making his head fly up in fear. Sal. Instantly, he lurched forward, trying to break his bonds. He had to get to safety. To Sal.
Sally Face felt as though the world had dropped from under him, making him freeze. Travis struggled forward, but the thing that caught Sal's attention was the searing red stump in place of the boy's hand. The blue-haired boy shook himself and raced over to Travis. The captured boy began to cry tears of relief as the leather loosened from his wrists. Sal whispered consolations in his ear as Travis's good arm was slung around more slender shoulders. Hoisting Travis up, they awkwardly staggered towards the exit.
Larry felt so relieved when Sal came into view, but the view of Travis made him do a double take. Relief vacuumed itself away once he took a good look at the couple. "We need to get home and get that treated." Larry said as he helped shoulder some of the weight.
Travis tried to help them as much as he could, but his legs were essentially useless. All he could do was give his life savers directions. With Larry carrying as much of the weight as he could, the trio made their way up the stairs. Travis had never felt more relieved to see the Addison Apartments. Sal and Larry sat Travis down on a chair at the table of Larry's apartment. Larry grabbed the first aid kit and a small lighter.
"W-what is that for?" Travis said, wearily.
"Well, to stop it from getting infected, we will….well we need to burn it close."
Immediately, Travis felt tremors throughout his body. His heartbeat elevated to those of a hummingbird's as Larry's words began to take effect. Travis flung out his injured arm and turned away, he couldn't watch. Sal got him a cloth to bite down on and held his hand. The smell curled outward, making Travis's legs jerk out. He felt as though he was back on that table, gasoline and all. The cloth concealing the shrieks of pain emanating from the broken boy. Larry finally pulled back and added salve to the burn. He then grabbed some gauze and tape to wrap up his wrist. Travis let out soft, cracking sobs, covering his face with his hand.
Sal had never been so mad at himself. How useless could he be?! He promised to protect this boy, but all he could do is fuck up. He wanted to tear at his hair and throw up. His golden boy had certainly lost trust in him. My golden boy? Sal reached forward, clasping onto Travis's good wrist. He leaned forward and gently removed the clawed hand away from the other's red face. Sal felt his heart ache as Travis dug his head into the blue boy's chest. Dampness slowly spread throughout his shirt, but it didn't matter. Travis was out of harm's way, certainly in pain, but safe. Larry cleaned up the materials, feeling like the scum of the earth. He made Travis cry like that. Honestly, he felt like a total ass. He knew burning the wound close was for infection, but the man just underwent actual torture. He internally vowed to never make Travis hurt like that again, not on his watch.
"Hey man, if you want to stay at Sal's, I completely get it. I am sorry, dude." Larry glanced down at his feet, guilty.
"N-NO!" Travis got out, his voice heavy from crying. "P-please, c-can I sleep h-here? With S-sal too?" Larry felt a minimal piece of guilt fly away.
"Sure, I can sleep here with you and Larry, if it is okay with Lisa." Sally Face said, internally grinning. He still felt bad, but at least he had a chance to make amends.
Travis felt elated for the first time in his life. His protector and his crush were going to help him, someone that deserved nothing of the sort. Though, he was mildly surprised that Larry hadn't commented on the faint scar lines that he must have seen while wrapping his arm. Unfurling from the two, he gingerly balanced on his two feet and raised himself up. "Can I please have a shower?"
Larry jumped. "Of course, dude. The towels are in the bottom cabinet and the shower runs hot. Sorry, dude. I should have offered."
The Puerto Rican clumsily walked off to the bathroom, leaving Sal and Larry to discuss their very, very tiring days.
"Oh! While I was in the temple, I found this tape. It might have evidence towards what the cultists were doing. I was thinking we could watch it while Travis was in the shower so we don't show him something too early, y'know? I don't want to scare him."
Sal hesitantly nodded. Larry was right, the cultist activity should be kept away from Trav for a while. Sally followed Larry into his room and flopped into a bean bag. Larry put in the tape and screwed around with the buttons, cursing mildly. Stupid technology. Within an instant, a grainy image flashed onto the screen, then disappeared when Larry pressed another button. "What did you do?!" Sal practically screeched, giggling.
"Shut up, Sally Face, I bet you can't get it to work either!"
With a frustrated smack of his hand on the TV, the video began to play. "Ha! Suck my dick!" Larry cried, war-like.
Sally rolled his eyes and focused on the screen. A blurry image of a blonde man chained to an altar appeared. He was lightly covered by a white sheet, face squished against the stone. Another man, the one who had presumably started the recording device, walked onto screen. He had a long black robe and a hood. The strange figure walked up to the stone and lash at the victim with a whip. Surprisingly quiet, the other man barely struggled. It appeared that the figure wasn't pleased. From the folds of his robe, he pulled out a broad knife and drew it across the wrist of the tied down body. Blood was collected in wooden bowl until it was nearly full. Then, the hooded man laid down the bowl and the knife off-screen.
The man on the altar finally moved his head, staring towards the direction of his tormentor. Something struck Larry as familiar, but he couldn't place it. The singular man remained on screen for a few more seconds until the robed man came forth. However, the robe was barely done, giving the camera glimpses of khaki underneath. The dark figure grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled up the head of his victim. A sharp intake of breath was the only sound for a moment. Then, the chained man nodded reluctantly. Facing away from the camera, it appeared as though the robe was begin loosened, along with a belt? The sheet was pulled away, making the man shiver. Suddenly, a very sick feeling merged into Larry's stomach. "Turn it off! Stop the video!" Larry began to shout.
However, that did not stop Sal from seeing the initial movement and a pained expression across Travis's face. Sally felt very much like throwing up. Dizzy, he slumped down, barely able to process what just happened. Larry was anxiously pacing, unsure of how to react. Should he tell Sal about Travis's 'switch' to help explain this? Will Travis literally ever trust us again? Finally, Sal spoke up, "What the HELL was that? Was that really T-Travis? Whaa?"
"S-sal, I don't know if it is my right to explain this. This is up to Travis. Do you realize how much we invaded his privacy?"
Travis couldn't believe what he was hearing. That crack in the door really saved us, huh? Now you know who you can trust. Daddy will always welcome you back with honesty. These liars will keep on digging until you have nothing left. As much as he hated to admit it, the voice had a point. Larry had betrayed him is a very severe way. He had known Travis had been taped, but he found them and took them for his viewing pleasure. He felt the urge to go shower again. Self-loathing burned its way into every other emotion available to him. Travis stood in the opening of the door, wrapped in a towel. He needed clothes from Larry, but he never wanted to see the disgusted looks directed at him. It was his father after all. Larry had picked one of the more conservative ones though. Sally spotted Travis through the door.
In all of Sal's life, he had never wanted to disappear so badly. And that is saying a lot. Travis looked at Sal with such hurt and betrayal in his eyes. He might as well have been taking Sal's heart out himself. Larry quickly noticed how quiet Sal had become. Curious, Larry peaked out, only to find the most enraged eyes meet. He could have sworn for a second that they had been soft, but he couldn't tell anymore. Larry widen the door and grabbed Travis some fresh clothes. The clothes went from one shaking hand to another. Travis began to feel horribly uncomfortable, remembering his back was exposed. He turned away towards the bathroom, making the spectators remember that he was still freshly wounded.
Needless to say, when Travis got back into the room, things were a little bit tense. Sal and Larry's conversation died and an uncomfortable silence clung to them. Larry grabbed a bag from under his bed and rolled a joint. Travis gasped at him, mildly horrified. He had been taught to never even consider drugs. Larry lit it up nonchalantly and sucked in the thick smoke greedily. Sal sat down beside him, slipped his mask up, and held up his fingers for a hit. Travis was utterly puzzled. Who solved an awkward, tense moment with smoking a joint?
After multiple minutes of the joint going back and forth between Sal and Larry, Travis began to feel left out. God knows he could use something to help him relax. He sat down on the carpeted floor below them and held his fingers up, a silent plea. Larry resisted the urge to giggle and handed the poor boy the last few puffs of the joint. Within the next hour, the three boys giggled hysterically. After two hours, Sal had passed out on top of Travis, who was snoring. Larry, as softly as he could, (which by the way isn't very softly) unclipped Sally's mask and laid on the floor beside him. He knew how much Sal's skin will get irritated otherwise. Finally, Larry laid his head down and went into a fitful sleep.
