Denial (Salvis)

A Numbed Mind {15}

Tw: domestic abuse

A/n

I'm thinking of making the update schedule every Monday and Friday, but we'll see! Also, in this chapter I refer to Indigenous people, and as a Canadian, the most common term in the USA is pretty offensive here, so I'm just gonna say Indigenous.

        In a loss for words, Sal and Travis quietly walked beside each other. Travis was weakly mumbling something under his breath, his arms wrapped tightly around his torso for both comfort and warmth.  The grass beneath their feet was dewy, and slowly seeped into the fabric of Sal's worn our blue converse. Sal had managed to convince him to leave the ministry with him, but hadn't thought of where they would go or what to say. He was typically good at comforting those close to him, but this situation was foreign to him. Sal never actually had someone who liked him in any other way than platonically, and as much as he loved the feeling, he had no clue how to process this development, let alone support the culprit. 

He cleared his throat and began talking, "So, uhm. How- uh, how are you today?" Travis responded by staring daggers at Sal, before returning to his undecipherable murmuring. This was not off to a great start. The strained quietude resumed, the two were standing several feet apart, mostly due to the fact that whenever Sal attempted to close the gap, Travis would retreat even further. The form of a large red maple grabbed his attention, it's branches hung low, and looked barren without it's usual lush, carmine leaves; an idea lit up in his mind. 

"Trav, how about we go sit by that tree?" The fake blonde didn't respond, he merely nodded his head. 

        Water from the ground began to bleed into the denim of Sal's red jeans, though he didn't seem to mind nearly as much as Travis did. Sal watched as he shifted uncomfortably, until he decided his efforts were futile and gave up, leaning his back against the thick bark of the tree. 

"Can I ask you some questions? I totally get it if not, man, I'm just curious." Sal turned his face, if you could even call it that, towards Travis, who continued to stare into the dark sky above. Menacing clouds that filled the sky threatened rain, Sal could only hope there wouldn't be thunder. The sounds of thunder always frightened him, and tugged at the excruciating memories buried deep within his mind. 

"I guess so, what do you want to know?" Travis's voice was cold and oddly faint.

"Did you mean all that? The things you wrote about me, I mean."

"Yes." His reply was quick, like he didn't even have to think about his answer. 

"Why do you like me? Sorry if this is weird, I've never actually had this happen before." Sal apologized after his question, believing it to be insensitive. 

Travis scoffed, "Why wouldn't I like you? You're perfect! You're funny, kind, understanding, you gave me a chance when nobody else would, and you're so charming. Everything about you is perfect, you're what I wish I was, Sal."

"And what about my face? You have no idea what I look like, if you knew, you would never feel this way." Sal tried to stay composed, but the anxiety in his voice was clear.

"I don't need to know what you look like, to know that I love you. I mean- I don't like, love- no that's not- it's not like I'm in love with you, right?" Travis visibly started to shake again, his words wavered with uncertainty. 

"It's okay, Travis." Sal slid closer to Travis, and gently held the shaking boy in his arms again, "We can stop talking about it, it's okay, I'm here for you." Travis sniffled softly, unable to calm himself. Sal tenderly squeezed his shoulders, every fiber of his brain was begging him to tell Travis the truth, and admit his feelings, but a small voice protested. It wasn't the right time, telling him now would be too much for him to deal with, he was getting panic attacks just by thinking about his own homosexuality.

"Do you have anything you do to calm down?" Sal asked, not releasing him.

"N-no" Travis huffed through quick breaths.

"That's alright, personally, I like to either cuddle Gizmo, or listen to music. Do you like music, Trav?"

"U-Uhm, I guess s-so?"

"Cool! What kind of music do you listen to, man?"

"I don't r-really know. I only l-listen to my M-Mom's old records." Travis stifled out a sob, Sal had never seen anyone so vulnerable in his life.

"That's sick, I've never heard you talk about her before."

"N-no you probably haven't, I don't t-talk about her much."

"Wanna tell me about her?" Sal could hear his heart rate had begun to slow, this was a good sign.

"She was really nice, not just in the Mom ways e-either. We used to go to the planetarium down in Salt Lake City all the time, it's only an hour drive, she loved th-the stars. Mom always told me stories about them, she said they were passed down from our family. She loved me more than anything."

"She sounds great! What's her name?"

"It was Tala."

"That's really pretty, and unique!"

"Yeah, she was Indigenous, from the Grey tribe, I th-think?"

"Sick, dude! I have to meet her sometime." Travis went silent after Sal spoke.

"You okay, man?" Sal pulled away from Travis, who was avoiding eye contact. He stayed quiet for a moment, "You can't. Meet her, that is."

"Why not?" He inquired, innocently.

"I need you to promise me that you won't tell anyone this, not even Larry. Nobody can know, understand?" Travis's voice was stern, changing the mood of the conversation drastically.

"Okay, you got it. My lips are sealed." 

"My parents never really got along, they weren't good for each other. My Father hated how independent Mom was, he said it was  "'not the way a woman should behave'". They would argue a lot, most of the time it was about me. One day, I guess Father had enough of it, at the time I didn't understand what happened. I was told that she had to get surgery done, that she was ill. She came back, but she wasn't herself. Her eyes were dull, she spoke in short sentences, she didn't seem to love me the same way, or at all. We stopped going on road trips together, we stopped talking entirely. Mom used to sing me to sleep, but all that stopped as well. She was an emotionless husk of the person she was before, she was like a zombie, her head kind of looked like it too. He had her lobotomized, and for what? Obedience? A bit of extra silence? She would aimlessly walk around the house, opening and closing doors, knocking things off shelves, moving items from one place to another. She would constantly forget stuff, where she put things down, what she was doing, she even forgot me, her son. Eventually, my Father got tired of her in this state too, and took action again. I don't know exactly what he did, but I do know that she isn't alive. He must've thought I was asleep when he dragged her away, all I can tell you for sure, is that he took her to the church, and she never came back." By the time Travis had finished his retelling of the story, tears were spilling from his eyes. 

"Holy shit. I'm so sorry, oh my god." Sal placed his hand over Travis's, uncertain on how to help with such trauma.

"Yeah, it's whatever." Travis wiped his tears away with his free hand, it was then that he noticed the placement of his crush's hand. He glanced up to Sal, who squeezed his hand reassuringly.

        "How was your first taste of holiness, Saint Sal?" Larry's gruff voice welcomed him back. Larry's room was constantly messy, but Sal never judged him for it.

"Meh, kinda boring, but I got to hang out with Travis after!" Sal threw himself down on Larry's unmade bed.

Larry groaned, "Ughhh, don't even say his name."

"He's getting better, Lar! at least give him a chance."

"Nah, I think I'm good." Larry turned back towards his painting, the scene gave Sal a weird sense of Déjà vu.

If only Larry knew Travis's struggles, if only he could see Travis through Sal's eyes. 

Word count: 1391