Chapter Text
Sal’s head sat heavy against the window pane. Every out-of-place rock, slight groove, and bump in the road jostled him ever so slightly, causing his prosthetic to tap the glass.
“Don’t do that, bud. You could damage your prosthetic.” Sal sighed, letting all the air in his weary lungs leave him.
Had he been a typical teenager, something as simple as leaning his head against the car window wouldn’t have inspired any commentary at all. It was yet another reminder of who he was… and he had had enough of those these past few weeks.
Henry cleared his throat. “If you really want to, you can, just not with the prosthetic on… thing isn’t cheap you know.” His dad chuckled; it was all too tense to be natural.
Henry’s words dug a pit in his stomach. Sal brought his hand to the back of his head, tracing the buckles that secured the annoying mass to his mangled face. He couldn’t just ‘take it off’ too many people had already seen what lied beneath, whether he intended to expose that part of himself or not.
If another driver on the road were to see him without his prosthetic on, he would have no choice but to grab the steering wheel and veer both him and the offending driver off the road. If only to save them from living with the image of his barren face for the rest of their now miserable life.
The absurdity of the idea brought a smile to his face. Sal knew he was being dramatic, but sometimes that was something he needed to be, if not for his sanity then at least it was entertaining.
“What did your aunt say to you? Is it— was it something she said?” He really didn’t want to be talking about this right now.
“She said a lot, Dad.” Sal cleared his throat after noticing how the usually clear tone wavered. “It’s fine. When are we getting back?”
Henry hesitated. Sal knew he was contemplating whether to comment on what he had said or move on. Sal hoped for the latter. “Well, we’re coming up on Katersville right now, so about two hours? One and a half? Somewhere around there.” Sal sighed in relief.
“Hang in there, bud.” Henry glanced at him before his eyes drifted back to the open road in front of them.
“Yeah...” Sal let his head press into the uncomfortable seat, his back slouching unnaturally. His heart squeezed, like someone had placed a clamp in his chest cavity, restricting blood flow. He searched for any means to escape the heavy thoughts clouding his mind. Maybe imagining more scenarios involving a car accident where his body went up in flames would help. It always seemed to offer a sense of peace, one wrapped in guts, blood, and gore; Sal tended to take what he could get.
He closed his eyes, picked at his hangnail as he conjured up the image of a front-end crash behind his eyelids. He desperately wished that when he opened them, he would be someone else, someone normal: anyone but himself.
—
The rusty elevator doors creaked open. Had Sal not taken the thing countless times before, he might’ve shown more than a semblance of concern towards the unusual grinding noise when the doors shut behind him.
“Someone there?” A masculine voice called from the basement’s shoddy laundry room. A voice Sal didn’t hear all that often. It seems they had heard the mechanically questionable elevator doors open, although it was quite hard to miss.
It took Sal’s tired brain longer to process the voice; he mulled the sound over in his foggy head. The hours of driving with nothing to do but think completely exhausted his ability to do so.
“Uhhh… N-Neil?” He hoped his brain hadn’t completely failed him.
“Salio!? I didn’t know you were back! How was Jersey? Any scary Mid-Atlantic ghost adventures?” He wished. Instead, he only had adventures that consisted of a judgmental family that obviously tried to ostracize him and his father, but insisted it was never their intention.
“No, not really. But I could do you one scarier: tales of a dysfunctional family.” Sal walked towards the laundry room. It was beginning to feel weird just talking into a wall with a door ajar.
He leaned against the doorway, watching as Neil loaded wet clothes into the dryer, a couple of quarters sitting atop the machine.
Wait a minute, why was Neil doing his laundry in the apartments? And why did he own so many Sanity’s Fall t-shirts?
“I think a shiver just ran down my spine, Salio.” Neil smiled at Sal, a big toothy grin. Sal smiled back, something genuine, the type that made his eyes crinkle up into small slivers.
“You getting into some new music? A fine choice, I must say.” He pointed an index at the shirt Neil was currently pinching between his fingers.
“Nah. Nooo way man, you wish. This is Larry’s stuff.” Sal squinted, further inspecting the items Neil was throwing into the dryer. It became an obvious truth once he further inspected the clothes; he had never seen Neil wear anything remotely close to any of them.
“Ah, makes sense— or— actually no it doesn’t? Why are you doing Larry’s laundry!?” An unexpected laugh tumbled from him at the sheer oddity of the situation. Neil only smiled, shutting the dryer and inserting a quarter to start the cycle.
“We were playing truth or dare, and Larry dared me to do his laundry… Sal, this is like the third load of clothes, man. It’s like he hasn’t done his laundry in years!” That sounded like Larry, alright.
Sal laughed harder once he heard Neil’s explanation. “What’s more surprising to me is that Larry has enough clothes for three loads of laundry? Dude, he practically wears the same outfit every day!” Sal continued laughing, soon to be joined by Neil.
“Yeah, I can see that! I thought I was going crazy when I washed the same exact shirt about six different times!” Neil brushed past Sal as he walked into the hallway. He looked over his shoulder as if to signal Sal to walk beside him. A signal Sal's tired brain did catch, fortunately.
“I didn’t hear anything about you coming back today though. Everyone’s gonna be so excited.” He nudged Sal with an elbow.
“Yeah… uh, things in Jersey went on longer than um planned.” He shook his head. “Well, anyways! It’s good to be back!”
“We’re glad to have you back, Salio.” He looked up to see a warm smile on Neil's face. He hadn’t asked Sal to elaborate which meant one of two things, either Todd told him something or he could tell Sal didn’t want to discuss anything right now; maybe a combination of both.
Either way, it truly was nice to be back. And as Neil turned the knob to apartment 1B the unrelenting clamp around Sal’s heart remained but a small weight began to lift itself off his shoulders.