||The Secrets We Keep|| - Salvis

Chapter I

||(authors note) Hello! Welcome to my first posted fanfic, The Secrets We Keep. I will provide trigger warnings in the beginning of the chapters if there are any. This does contain some spoilers to the game, as well as the following:
              •angst
              •death
              •blood
              •suicidal thoughts
              •breakdowns
              •cursing
              •religious trauma
              •trauma in general
I will try to provide music that I feel fits with the story, though it is not guaranteed. Proceed with caution, and enjoy my story! :) ||

            2:57 AM–Travis: Can I come over?

It was a simple question, though it makes Sal sit up in his bed quickly, perking up, half asleep as the moonlight shines through his window. His room is messy, clothes around by his bed and his empty medication bottles stacked on his nightstand. Gizmo lays, nestled up in his lap, asleep peacefully. It was a sudden question, out of nowhere, and yet it holds so much meaning to him. He rushes to formulate an answer, seeing the time on his phone before he gets a chance to. 2:57 AM. Why was Travis messaging him so late at night to come over?

3:01 AM–Sal: yeah, sure. Is everything okay?
seen

      Sal watches as the thought bubble comes up, to indicate Travis is typing, and he fumbles to grab his prosthetic off of his bed frame, strapping it on and trying to tame his frizzy hair. He gently picks up gizmo and puts the sleeping cat beside him, standing from his bed and walking out of his room, past his discarded math homework he swears to finish before his math class starts up in the afternoon. He gets to his closet, putting on a plain burgundy t-shirt, and seeing that Travis had responded.

3:05 AM–Travis: I'll be there in ten.

      Sals heart jumps at the sudden message, noticing how he had avoided the question in the message, grabbing a hair tie off of his desk and leaving his room. He fixes his black shorts and puts his electric blue hair into a ponytail, staring at the message as he does so and walking through the hall to the living room. He flips on the switch to see, momentarily being blinded by the flood of light, and he hears a meow from behind him. He turns to where gizmo is walking in the hallway, smiling under his prosthetic. "Hey Giz," He laughs dryly.
      Gizmo meows, clearly having been disturbed from his sleep, and sal crouches in front of him to pet him, looking to the kitchen and seeing the note that was left by his dad the day before, the one that had mentioned him leaving for the next few days. Sal stands up, walking over to the note and throwing it away, fixing his bangs as he stares at the time in the oven. 3:09 AM. he counts down the minutes in his head, just cleaning up around as he could. Gizmo follows him around stealthily, interested.

      He hears a quiet knock on his front door, instantly stopping everything he is doing, admittedly worried. He rushes to the door, looking through the peephole, his eyes widening and quickly opening the door. "Travis! Are you okay?" he asks, seeing the bruises and wounds littering down his body.
      Travis shifts from one foot to the other, anxious and holding a small bag slung around his shoulder. He is slightly slouched and leaning against the doorframe, almost seeming as if he can barely hold himself up and will collapse at any moment. "I– yeah, i'm alright, sal." he stumbles on his words, laying his eyes on the worried bluenette staring up at him.
      Sal quickly lets him in, ushering him to the couch and being quick to get to the bathroom, coming back with a first aid kit a couple minutes later, sitting both him and Travis down on the couch to tend to his wounds. "Dude, what happened to you?! You look like you got hit by a bus!-" Sal says, clear concern laced into his voice as he opens the kit, examining the bleeding cuts around and up Travis's body.
      A moment of silence falls upon the two of them as Sal digs through the first aid kit, getting out hydrogen peroxide, gauze, and bandages. "If my dad is a bus then technically you wouldn't be wrong." Travis says quietly, looking around sals apartment instead of at Sal himself, never having been here before.
      Only last week Sal had made it his mission to help Travis, from both his dad and to be a better person. He hasn't reached out since then when Sal gave him his number or address except for when he had greeted him, saying that it was Travis's number. Sal pauses what he is doing instantly once the words fall out of Travis's mouth, and immediate regret as well as nerves fill Travis as Sal stares at him with an almost horrified expression. "Your dad did this to you?" sal asks, the bandages in his hands though unmoving.
      Travis freezes, realizing that he had said something that was never supposed to be spoken, his face flushing as a lump forms in his throat as he scrambles for an answer. "I, yeah, but it was my fault...!" he says way too quickly, his eyes darting away from Sal and staring at his bruised wrists instead.
      Sal stares at him, unbelieving of his words, and his gaze softens upon seeing Travis's panicked expression. "Why do you think it is your fault?" he asks quietly, fixing the bandages  and holding out a hand so he can start bandaging travis, the hydrogen peroxide by his side so he can clean the cuts.
      Travis stares at sals hand, reluctant and not moving his arm for a moment before slowly taking his hand, almost retracting it once their hands come in contact before stopping himself. "I talked back to him when he had answered a question of mine, and got caught sneaking out as well." he whispers, unable to wrap his head around why he had chosen to reach out, to have sal, of all people, to help him.
      Sal stares at the marks and the minor cuts along his forearm, grabbing the hydrogen peroxide and putting it on a cotton ball. "This might sting; just a heads up." he informs, holding his hand up to check for anything in the cuts before putting the hydrogen peroxide against them gently.
      Travis winces, looking away and spotting the orange striped cat watching them from the kitchen, curious but saying nothing about him to Sal, noticing how concentrated he is at the moment, a small pang of guilt hitting him for making Sal feel obligated to take care of him. "What did you get hit with?" Sal suddenly asks as he lifts up the cotton ball, cleaning multiple other cuts, sometimes getting another cotton ball to replace the old one.
      Travis hesitates to answer, taking a sharp intake of breath as he stares at sals hands working on cleaning the cuts. "I'd assume something glass, I didn't see because I was too focused on getting out of there." he states blandly, as if it's any normal Tuesday.
      Sal double checks the wounds once more to make sure they don't have any spare glass, realizing how Travis is used to it, though not commenting on it. The cat starts to cautiously walk over from his spot in the kitchen, stopping by the table in front of the couch, staring up at Travis.
      Sal follows Travis's eyes as they wander to Gizmo, and his eyes seem to light up. "Oh, this is gizmo," Sal says, a ping of excitement in his voice.
Travis carefully holds the hand that isn't being taken care of out to gizmo slightly, hesitant but curious in his movements. Gizmo moves closer, and Travis instinctively pulls his arm away quickly. "He is friendly, I promise." Sal chuckles, finishing cleaning the cuts and starting to bandage his forearm.
Travis nods, holding his hand back out, and gizmo sniffs his hand. Sal continues to work on his injuries as gizmo jumps onto the couch carefully, walking to travis. "He seems to like you," Sal says, noticing how closed off Travis is, how one-sided the conversation is.
Travis looks up at Sal, almost seeming to look for approval as his free hand hovers over Gizmo, wanting to pet him but unsure if he is able to. Sal nods to him, and Travis takes it as an okay, petting gizmo. Sal finishes bandaging Travis's one arm, looking to his upper arm to make sure there aren't any cuts, seeing a mix of black and blue bruises, and he decides to ask later. "Your cat is very soft," Travis mumbles quietly, gizmo meowing at him as he lays into Travis's lap.
Sal smiles under his prosthetic, securing the bandages before moving on to Travis's other arm, repeating the process until there are bandages there too. "Are there any injuries on your chest or legs?" he questions, noticing the gash along his forehead, noting to deal with that once everything else is done.
Travis lets gizmo jump down from the couch, looking at his well bandaged arms, before looking up at Sal, giving a small smile in appreciation before answering his question. "There are a few minor ones, but I will be fine. Thank you." he replies, his vision a bit blurry, feeling the dried blood along his eyebrow.
Sal notices the slight dullness in Travis's eyes, and how he slightly sways as he is upright. "Of course. Are you feeling alright? Any dizziness, blurry vision, headaches? You have some head trauma after what had happened earlier," Sal nods, scooting a bit closer to inspect the head injury.
      Travis thinks for a moment, leaning a bit back once he sees Sal getting closer, looking away. "It's a bit blurry and I guess I'm a bit dizzy, and my head hurts, but it's okay." he mutters, feeling his cheeks flush a soft pink in embarrassment.
      Sal nods in response, fixing gauze next to them and putting the hydrogen peroxide on a cotton swab. He lays a hand on the side of Travis's face to keep him still, Travis jolting in surprise and sal instantly pulling his hand away, it now hovering a few inches away from him. He waits patiently until Travis gives a nod of consent, before slowly putting his hand back and cleaning the cut gently with his free hand. Travis winces as the familiar stinging hits his head, it coming and going as Sal finishes. "What happened to your head to be cut up like this?" Sal questions calmly, showing no signs of panic as to not freak out travis.
      Travis doesn't answer him, shifting uncomfortably and grimacing, almost combing a hand through his hair before stopping himself. Sal stares at him, patiently waiting as if he will get his answer, starting to put gauze on the wound that had now stopped bleeding. Eventually, the silence hangs in the air, almost suffocating Travis, and he finally breaks the silence. "I hit my head sneaking out of my window, my dad caught me and I freaked out. Afterwards I fell out of my window. I'm okay though." Travis assures, sal grabbing pain killers and putting the first aid kit supplies in the kit, standing.
      "I don't suggest you go to sleep anytime soon in case you got a concussion or anything, and i am unsure as to how hard you hit it.'' Sal runs a hand through his hair, which was already starting to frizz again even though he had brushed it beforehand.
      Travis groans quietly, already extremely tired from running over to sals and getting beat the shit out of. Sal stands up, letting Travis be alone for a couple moments to put away the first aid kit. Meanwhile, Travis shrugs off the bag on his shoulder, putting it on the floor and looking at his bloodstained sleeves on his shirt in disapproval. As if on cue, Sal comes back with a black shirt, seeming to be a bit big for himself. "Here, you can put this on, it's a bit bigger on me so i'm sure it'd fit you fine.'' Sal says warmly, showing a smile in his eyes.
       Travis can't help but give a small smile back, taking the shirt from him and changing into it quickly and standing, putting his shirt now in his hand in his bag. Sal stares at the bag for a moment before picking up gizmo and gesturing to Travis so he has his attention to chime in with,  "Here, I'll show you to my room, you can put your bags down there."

Word count: 2135 (with authors note) 2043 words without