(eating disorder tw)
"Well," said Underdog after a bit, suppressing sniffles, standing "Neither of us have eaten in twenty-four hours, and we can't survive on just what you brought, let's go get something."
Lewis was a bit startled by his sudden change in attitude, but nodded. "Where?"
"The strip," he said, dusting himself off, "There's a Pizza Hut there. We aren't going there."
"I'm alright with that, Pizza Hut just has the worst pizza."
"You really are from Manhattan," he muttered, smiling at him, "I agree, but that's not why we aren't going there. You see Lewis," he went on, offering a hand to help Lewis up, "I can't keep a job, I am not in the mental nor physical state to. So I don't have money."
Realization spread over Lewis face.
"But-but you're Underdog!" he said, loudly, "You can't steal you-! You-you!"
"Lewis…" he said softly, holding on to his shoulders as he quietly panicked, "I haven't been Underdog for fourteen years. And you know, Lewis? I'll never truly be that Underdog again. I don't have powers anymore. I have horrible mental problems that I've had for a long, long time, and they've gotten worse!" he laughed, but it wasn't happy in the slightest, "I can't survive and obey the law."
Lewis was distraught and he looked the part. He couldn't tell what he was more distraught about- that Underdog was like this, or that Underdog was like this.
"...Lewis I'm not going to leave you in this cabin alone, I'm sorry, and food is important, I'm not starving myself again."
"...what?!" said Lewis, startled. What the hell did that mean? "Under-"
He sighed, "I'll tell you everything once we get back, we need to get food."
Lewis agreed, reluctantly. Now he was nervous. What did he mean again- if he was so intent on getting food why would he ever starve himself? Not unless- oh no. An eating disorder paired with everything else already up with him… that sounded awful.
After a while of silent driving, Underdog spoke.
"So what foods do you like, Lewis?"
"..garlic bread, apples and cheese. Not all three at the same time." he said, softly, still a bit shaken.
"...what are you eating together?"
"...cheese and apples…" he whimpered, looking at him.
"Oo!" he suddenly became excited, "What kinds of each?"
Lewis felt his shoulders relax, unaware until then they were even tensed. "Just… regular red ones and um… either mozzarella or cheddar but like, not those pre-cut ones."
Underdog chuckled, "Yeah, those are absolutely disgusting. I used to eat those straight out of the packaging," he went into full laughter. Lewis laughed quietly.
"Did you used to eat cheese and apples too?"
"Yeah! Well-" he paused, all past happiness draining out of him, "My brother and dad did, I just stole a bite every once in a while. If my mom ever found out I did…" he laughed a bit, but it wasn't happy.
"Was your mom not… good?" his voice went even quieter.
"She was fine…" he shrugged, "She was sad which was probably mostly my fault but… what can you do? I'll… I'll finish this story later, we need food." His eyes seemed to drop for a moment, he then took a deep breath and got out of the car, Lewis quickly followed.
"So Lewis, you're on look-out. You stay close to me. You notice someone tap me. You stay calm and natural as possible- you're a teenage boy, right? Pretend like you hate being there and are looking around like you have nothing else to do, alright?"
Lewis stared blankly at him for a minute, processing the instructions, before nodding, but Underdog didn't move.
"You've got pockets. You try and stuff whatever food items you can in those, alright? Get soft stuff, it's less obvious."
He stared blankly and nodded again after a few moments.
Underdog sighed nervously, "Alright, here we go."
They stepped in, no one was at the counter. Lewis felt a weight lift off his back. Underdog didn't seem so confident. He led Lewis into the snack aisle, whispering to him.
"Grab something small."
He then went on to the tiny freezers to make his own thefts. Lewis starred at the shelves. Nothing was small and soft. He stared a bit, just grabbing. Small pretzel bag. Tiny Nutella. Sack of M&Ms. Underdog turned back, nodding for Lewis to come closer. He did, Underdog grabbing his arm, leading him around into a middle-aisle, pretending to look at a journal. Someone was at the counter, Lewis could see them. He looked back away, hoping he didn't look too suspicious.
Underdog set the journal back down, walking down the aisle, pretending to get distracted by a pencil bag. It was kind of cool, Lewis admitted to himself, but he fakely sighed, pretending to hate being here. He kinda did.
Underdog went on, tapping Lewis' arm and making his way toward the exit, humming to himself. The cashier didn't seem to notice.
Back in the car, Underdog let out a breath Lewis didn't know he was holding.
"...that went much better than I thought it would."
"Can I take this food out of my clothes now?"
"Oh, sure. I do put food in your seat though, so you're holding this." He pulled a few frozen foods from under his shirt, Lewis couldn't make out what they were. Lewis just nodded after everything was handed to him.
"...now you have to tell me about your parents and about you starving yourself."
Underdog stopped mid-key turn.
"...I guess I sure do, don't I?" but then he was silent.
Lewis sighed as he started driving, "Underdog, come on, you just forced me to shoplift it's the least you could do!"
"The least I could do was even get you food and shelter in the first place," he snapped defensively. He then sighed, staring at the road pained, "It's like my radio. I don't want anyone to touch it because they'll either end up breaking it more or hating it, and those absolute piece of shit memories don't need either of those!"
Lewis was silent for a moment.
"...things need to be touched so they can be fixed." He said, quietly. Underdog didn't say anything for a long time.
"Not everything can be fixed, Lewis," he said, just as softly.
"Maybe not," Lewis conceded, "But they can get into better shape."