(fight/wound tw)
From Clarksburg to Parkersburg is when the real anxiety set in. For several reasons, really, this might be the last bus able to take him there, and he did not want to walk the ten hours to get to Ravenswood- he wasn't fit enough. It would be early morning when he got there. Thirty-seven minutes by car. Maybe he could find a bike to steal?
He strolled around Parkersburg, figuring out what to do. On 4th Street, a blue cadillac rolled up to him. A rottweiler was driving.
"Where you headed, kid?"
Lewis jumped. Should he answer, should he run? He had a weapon and he could always jump out if he tried to do anything, right?
"...Ravenswood." he said, quietly.
"I was just heading to Ravenswood. You like a lift?"
He slowly shoved his hand in his hoodie's pocket and held his scissors, nodding.
In forty minutes, he was in Ravenswood. The rottweiler headed toward a strip mall, parking in front of a building labelled Foodland.
"Here you are, kid."
"Th-thank you, sir." Lewis nodded, not looking at him, getting out of the car as soon as the could. He walked backwards around the car so he wouldn't have to see him. He let go of his breath too soon.
He was suddenly grabbed by the driver and shoved down. His shoulder hit the tail fin, his body then hit the concrete, screaming. He feebly reached into his pocket, grabbing them and stabbing them into the closest part he could reach.
The rottweiler shot up, staring at his stomach. "Why you little-!" he looked up before finishing and looked terrified. Quickly, he stood and ran, his car starting and driving way. Lewis coughed as exhaust went in his face. He looked up to thank whoever scared him, and heard himself gasp.
"You alright, kid?" he said, voice just like the cartoon.
"Yo-you're Underdog!" said Lewis, loudly, unable to contain his excitement.
"I haven't… heard that name in years."
He looked better in person. His muzzle was dark and gray, his whiskers frayed, his ears frayed and tangled, he had bags under his eyes and the veins in his eyes you could see faintly. The big U on his shirt was peeling off, and the collar was frayed. His cardigan was the cleanest part of him.
Underdog squatted town, helping him up. "So are you alright, kid? I saw you stab that guy- smart move."
"Th-thank you."
"So… who are you, kid? I haven't seen you around."
"I'm Lewis and-and! I'm so excited to meet you!"
"I'm quite honestly surprised you know who I am- are you from around here, Lewis?"
"No I-I heard you lived out here and wanted to meet you! I love your cartoons!"
"Right the cartoons…" he cleared his throat, "It's getting late, and you need somewhere to stay, right?"
Lewis nodded, smiling.
"Well… I guess you don't have the money for an apartment, and neither do I so…" he breathed deeply, and sighed, "You can stay with me, I guess. That guy's in the management of the apartments anyway, don't trust you to be alone…" he groaned, "Be talking to them in the morning."
"I'm surprised you didn't fight him- you're Underdog!"
"You had it handled. Not like I have much muscle mass anymore anyway. C'mon."
He led Lewis to his car, old and beat up. Pastel yellow, chipped horribly. Lewis was a bit surprised. Not like I have much muscle mass anymore anyway? What did that mean? He was a superhero.
Underdog drove past a police station, then turned onto a road full of houses. Lewis was staring out the window trying to figure out which one was Underdog's. Then Underdog turned on a road with bigger houses, then turned past one of those into the forest. Lewis heard a sound come out of him. He parked next to a partially-moss-covered cabin a bit away from a green pond.
"So I wasn't expecting to have a uh, guest tonight so my house looks awful. And I also don't have an extra bed so you can take mine and I'll make something out of blankets. I know I have a sheet somewhere," said Underdog, forcefully opening his door and walking inside
Lewis nodded but didn't hear. It was a living room, maybe? He stepped in. There was a dusty desk on one side of the room and on the other what Lewis could only guess was a kitchen. It seemed to have faint painting of mint green and big, white diamonds, cabinets as light white too. No table to be found. A fridge, a microwave and a sink where all next to eachother, the only tabletop was right under the microwave- if it weren't covered in dishes he couldn't tell were clean or not. The only light bulb he could see was there.
There was a couch, torn up, but a couch. It sat half on top of a dark shaggy carpet, and faced toward a window. There was an old possible radio on the furthest cushion.
"You wanna set down your bag, take off your shoes anywhere?" asked Underdog, who had already removed both shoes and vest.
Lewis nodded, looking down and taking off his shoes. Almost immediately he slid on the floor. He caught himself shaking. He then felt himself crying. He wanted to think it was because he did something stupid in front of his idol but deep down he knew it was everything that led up to now and doing something stupid in front of his idol.
"I'm-I'm sorry-" he started, but Underdog cut him off, holding him close, kicking his shoes against the door. He then quietly led him into a smaller room from the living room-kitchen, with a bed in relatively good shape, and a drawer next to it. The only light source seemed to be the one from the previous room.
"I believe I have a sheet somewhere- set down your bag." Lewis did, sniffling. Soon enough Underdog found a sheet, also in fine condition and a nice soft blue, and attempted to put it on the bed. He sighed, stepping back.
"I never was good at that. It'll work though, yeah? Well, Lewis, I'm gonna let you- oh wait." He skidded over to the drawer and picked out three different pill bottles. Holding them in his arms, he went on, "I'm gonna let you rest in here, and I'm gonna leave the door open because it gets way too dark in here without it. Close it if you want, I don't care, I'll be in here if you need anything. Night, kid."
"Night," said Lewis, quietly. He slowly made his way over to the bed, pulled up his hood, covered himself in the fluffy blanket there and balled up.
This was it, he made it! Why was he so sad?