Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

    Madeline sighed, gently rubbing Travis' back as he sobbed into her arms. She felt the anger coursing through her veins. She had no doubt their father was the culprit of her baby brother's current state.

Just as she had no doubt anger was the only thing anyone in this family ever felt.

Perhaps she could try cheering Travis up? It wouldn't hurt.

"Last time I held you like this, you were a baby," Madeline smiled sadly, looking down at Travis and where he had buried his face between her shoulder and neck.

There she could vividly remember it, her baby brother wrapped in a shroud their mother had finished sewing only a few hours before her death. Back then, he was a bundle of joy. He rarely cried, except for when their father would shout, curse, and cry himself to near death when he was too drunk.

The cycle seemed to go further back then Madeline thought.

"It's a sin to feel like I do," He choked out.

She let the words sink in. A moment's silence felt like a million minutes, and she tried to understand what Travis meant. Was he upset about his relationship with Phillip? It wasn't hard to see the younger boy share a deeper affection with the blue-haired boy. What if he was upset about their father's distinct lack of empathy? She couldn't blame him; Kenneth was a horrid human being.

"What do you mean?" Madeline frowned, gently pushing Travis to sit up before wiping the tears from his cheeks.

Travis visibly bit the inside of his lip and she could see the cogs turning in his head. Often she wished she could read his mind.

"I... it's hard to explain."

"I know."

The younger boy fell back into her embrace and cried once more, disgust welling in his stomach at such a raw, vulnerable show of emotions.

-

      Travis didn't go to school the next day, and neither did Madeline, she started to develop a cold. She sniffed and coughed. Travis would often deter himself from being too close to her, as much as he hated it. But, he hated the germs more.

Madeline wandered the house, cleaning slowly as she danced to the melody of her Ana da Silva record.

Mary hadn't gone to work, so she chose to stay home to watch Madeline, yet she still wandered out to her garden to tend to her fruits and flowers.

Travis slowly walked to the back porch, through the screen door and onto the verandah. He watched Mary flutter around the garden, seemingly beaming with joy at the domestic hobby.

"Travis, come here my hanwi," She hummed from the pumpkin patch.

The blonde-haired boy looked over to the large orange and yellow pumpkins. That was a nickname he hadn't heard in quite some time, "I'm coming."

The patch was filled with exquisitely grown fruits of her labour, and Travis nearly cringed at how she did this all by herself and he hadn't had half the mind to ask if she wanted a helping hand.

"How do you feel about pumpkin pie?" Mary asked, before turning back to prune the leaves of the plants and humming a tune to herself.

"That'd be good."

"I fear you've had a run-in with someone, or something, akin to the Unktomi?" Mary continued to ask questions. She always seemed to know everything, maybe because she was his older sister, and she had known him much longer than he'd known himself.

She handed him a pair of pliers and motioned to the pumpkin near him.

Travis frowned and did as he was instructed.

His sister always had an air of authority and wisdom surrounding her. Perhaps, she was the same? Maybe she heard the voices and whispers, the dances of emotions and memories in the air. Travis had never confided in her about his experiences, and he never told her about the creature in the woods.

Maybe he should.

"Uh, yeah... At Phillip's house, there was this- coyote?"

"We have plenty of those in Minnesota, Travis."

He sucked in a deep breath and started, "No, no. It wasn't normal... it's skin- it sagged! And, God, it moved so strangely... It wasn't-"

"Wasn't what?"

"Normal?"

"Perhaps a trick of the light."

"You know better than that."

"I do, but I will refuse to. They hear us, you know."

Travis looked from the pumpkin he'd started pruning to his sister.

"What?"

Mary didn't continue and Travis didn't want to push her, she was sensitive (to an extent).

"Who's they, Mary?"

"There's no they," She smiled, returning to her work and refusing to answer him.

Travis frowned before placing the pliers down and wandering back to the porch.

"Oh, Travis... be careful who you ask next. You don't know what they want," Mary called from the pumpkin patch.

The blonde boy let out a deep sigh before nodding.

He was going to figure out who they were.

-

      Sal sat staring at the ceiling while beaming. He was fucking gone. Larry was rambling on about something next to him.

"What?"

"Dude... the plants right, those small tiny holes are actually- their eyes! Dude, the plants see us every time we jack off..."

Sal turned his head slowly, "What? Dude that's... that's fucking gross."

Larry giggled, "I know right?"

Sal sighed, before passing the joint back to Larry and walking to the bathroom.

Larry kept talking to himself.

Once he entered, Sal took the time to shut the door and hobble over to the sink slowly.

His mask hung from the bathroom railing.

He couldn't stop thinking about Travis, in that bathroom stall.

Sal hoped he'd reach out if he needed to. He didn't hate Travis, no not at all. He's dealt with worse. But, hearing how he sobbed broke Sal's heart for no reason.

Larry would say he's too nice and forgiving.

Sal would say he's been through enough to be empathic.

Larry would then go quiet, feeling bad for even saying anything. That's why Sal wouldn't talk to him about it.

So, here he was high as a kite, staring at his torn, scarred and ruined face in the mirror wondering how different his life could be.

No changing it now.

Sal wanted Travis to try to reach out to him. After he read the note Travis' talk about monsters in the forest scared him. The poor guy was going through so much more than Sal imagined.

Whether he was using it as an allegory for his mental health, or whether there were actual monsters on the loose in the forest, Sal wanted to help.

So he quickly exited the bathroom and to the lounge.

Sal leaned against a wall and slid down to sit by the wired telephone.

He waited for it to ring.

But to absolutely no avail, so he decided to go for a walk to sober up.

-

     Travis let out a deep breath, looking at the dial before turning away and biting his tongue. He didn't need to call Sally, to burden him like that. He just wouldn't. Maybe, he could go talk to Philip, and ask for his opinion. Ask for help, maybe for the first time in years.

The things he'd seen recently, the whispers and echoes of voices and memories in the air truly terrified him as they became much more violent whenever he was alone. Objects were starting to get knocked over more often, lights would blow, and the doors would ominously start opening.

Travis knew that ghosts were real, there was no other explanation for the noises he'd hear or the faces he'd see in the dark.

They were real, as real as perception would allow him to perceive.

Sometimes he'd see them wandering the halls, no matter where he was.

He'd find that where they walked it was always so much colder, even in places with no breezes or gusts.

Maybe he just needed a cigarette.

With the lighter and the two darts he had left in his bag from Philip, he snuck out to the backyard, past the fence line and into the forest. There wasn't a real necessity to sneak, it was just habit. Travis walked for about five minutes before finding the old tree swing he his and sisters would play with back when they were much younger.

So, he climbed onto the overly-sized tyre swing, sat down, and lit a smoke.

He inhaled with no problems now, he was used to the sensation. However, the small headspin he got was still strong and it was so fucking addicting.

Travis came to this place often, there was an old owl's nest nestled in the hole higher up in the tree where he kept his book, full of writing. Whether it be a short story or him complaining in prose or pastoral format he often found it was only ever quiet enough to do so out here.

Plus, private enough.

So, he took a drag and quickly climbed up onto the top of the tyre to reach for his book.

There was a pen stuck somewhere in there as well so it took him a moment to get a grasp on it.

Once both items were acquired he sat back down in the tyre, opened the book to a new page, and began writing.

God, he didn't even know how long had passed by the time he heard someone walking down the path.

He assumed it was Mary or Madeline.

"Travis?"

That was not Mary or Madeline.

He shot his head up and quickly stuffed his book into the crook of the tyre, stamping out the cigarette and shoving the lighter in his pocket.

It was fucking Sally Face.

"What the fuck."

Travis stared down at the blue-haired boy from the swing and felt like shooting his brains out.

"What the fuck, what?" Sally asked, adjusting his footing and walking closer.

"What are you doing here?"

Sally just shrugged.

"Nothing much, what are you doing here?"

Travis scoffed, "I live five minutes away."

"Ooh, can I come over?"

Travis blinked, "What?"

"Can I come over?" Sally repeated the question, adjusting his mask.

"Uh..."

"I'm joking, dude," Sally giggled before sitting down at the base of the tree.

"Dude? Are you high?" Travis rolled his eyes before stuffing his notebook back into the crook of the tree.

Then, he hopped off the swing and walked over to Sally.

"You know you can call me if you need to, I don't tell just anyone that."

"I asked if you were high," Travis said condescendingly.

"I know that. But, yeah no I am. I was getting there," Sally adjusted his mask more.

The two were stone-still in awkward silence.

"You can sit down next to me, I don't bite dude."

Travis looked skeptical and Sally just shrugged before patting the spot next to him.

"Fine."

"Cool."

"You talk with your hands a lot," Travis said.

"You're observant, Sherlock."

"Huh?"

"Sherlock?"

"Uhm, yeah?"

"Sherlock Holmes?"

"Oh, yeah... Nevermind."

They say in silence once more.

"Who was the note about?"

"What?"

"The note."

"Oh."

Sally leaned back into the tree, brushing past Travis' shoulder and making him flinch.

"No one in particular," Travis swallowed.

"Blue-haired boy? Who's that?"

"Why are you asking me so many questions?"

"Because I'm curious... and because I can," Sally shrugged.

Travis sighed before leaning further back into the tree too, his shoulder now touching Sally's, it wouldn't hurt to talk. It's not like Sally would be someone who'd judge him.

"Uh, well, it's about Philip."

"Are you two dating?"

"What? Fuck, no."

"Do you want to?"

Travis swallowed and frowned. He wasn't sure, did he want to? It was wrong. It was sinful. He'd been doomed for an eternity of flames and scorn.

Yet, dreaming of mornings wrapped in Philip's embrace, nights spent in each other's company under the stars, or the days where they'd hide away from the world. It'd be them, together.

The idea seemed peaceful, even though it went against everything his father had taught him.

Everything he knew was so right, but knew it felt so wrong.

"Maybe?" Travis choked out.

"Maybe?"

"Yes. Maybe." Travis repeated, a little more clear now.

Silence.

"How you wrote about him made it seem like you were in love with him," Sally stated.

Travis scoffed, "How do I write about him?"

"Like he's your world."

Travis stopped, and his mind seemed silent.

"He is my world."

Sally looked at him, and his eyes crinkled, "That's cute, dude."

Travis scoffed again before leaning his head back and looking up through the branches. He then dug around in his pocket for his last smoke. Once he found it, he quickly lit it and took a puff.

"I didn't know you smoked?"

"I do."

"Since when?"

Travis shrugged.

Sally shrugged as well.

The two sat in rather comfortable silence with one another.

There was a click from the blue-haired boy's mask and a hand reaching for his dart. Travis handed it over to him and watched as he took a deep breath.

"You're already high, do you need that on top of it?"

"Yeah, dude. Of course," Sally gave Travis the dart once more.

Travis chuckled before taking another hit.

They then sat, passing the dart back and forth, exchanging a few more words before Sally came down from his high and decided to head back to the Addison Appartments.

Travis took a deep breath before heading down the trodden path to his house. He didn't pay much attention to the bends and curves in the path. His mind wandered to the afternoon's events, while his path wandered the wrong way.

Travis eventually stopped. He had turned right instead of left, that was all.

He retraced his steps, which were obvious in the trodden mud.

Travis frowned when he came back to the crossroad.

He must've taken the wrong path.

But, then everything was different.

The bushes were no longer similar and Travis found himself to start panicking.

He ran back along the track, only to find himself exactly where he started.

What the fuck was this?

Just as he felt his mind was going to break, he was standing back at the turn just before the quick walk to his house.

It was similar once more.

Travis quickly looked around in a cold sweat.

What was that?

Seemingly, with no reasonable explanation he quickly exited the forest.

That had never happened before.

Ever.

He might need to see Philip for some help.

-

      Philip sat at the kitchen table, staring at a small zip-lock bag filled with white powder, and lazily sipping on a cup of black tea he'd made about five minutes ago before he heard the frantic knocking at the door.

Sighing, he placed his cup on top of the bag, hoping it'd be enough to hide it.

Philip wandered to the door, opening it to find a dishevelled and rather terrified Travis.

"Holy shit, dude, get inside," Philip grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.

"Sorry," Travis stuttered, stepping aside as Philip closed the door.

"What happened to you?" Philip asked as he led the younger boy to his bedroom.

"I don't know, I just..." Travis trailed off, sitting down on the blue-haired boys' mattress and making himself comfortable as he groaned into his hands.

Philip closed the door softly behind him, leaning on the dresser opposite the bed.

"Uh, do you have any?"

"Do I have any what?"

"Smokes?"

"No."

Travis ran a hand through his hair before picking at the skin around his thumb.

"I do have something else, but it'll get you fucked up."

"I don't care. I'll try it."

"Are you sure?"

"Fucking positive."