Blind Faith(Wirik and LynxAmelia)

Wirik

Wirik

Hero in the Making
"Get moving Unbeliever, no one wants to see you." Unbeliever thats what they called him. The bile and hate that dripped from their words hung to the air heavily, further impressing upon Travis Quinn his position in society. When you are called something constantly you start to think maybe it's true. But of course it was true, Travis refused to believe. And for is refusal he was greeted with harshness at every turn. Not even an hour ago a few well off boys from the Priest side of town decided to show him the love of God. Or that's what they called it. Travis called it a beat down. For as the group of boys pumpled and kicked him he thought he was going to die, and maybe his life would finally be over. But no such reprieve was in store. With a final kick they took turns spiting on him before throwing that hateful phrase at him again, Unbeliever.


His clothes were in ruins, well they hadn't been much better before, but the boys had been merciless in their beating. Barely able to call them rags, now he wasn't even sure if he could call them that. Strips of cloth clung to him, dirty and bloodstained, reminding everyone of his disbelief. Not that they needed a reminder. He was forced to duck behind the nearest building and peel the strips off his body. Which wasn't an easy task to accomplish. He had been wearing these clothes for so long, some part of them had begun to sink into his flesh. The peeling off tore bits and pieces of skin, and made him gasp aloud in pain. He looked around, hoping that no one heard him. Satisfied that he was still alone, Travis carefully weaved the tattered strips together to form a makeshift pair of pants. His nearly naked body would no doubt cause him more shame, cause the people to say even more about him as they passed by. But it didn't matter, not as long as he was able to live another day.


His new outfit only highlighted the rough treatment his body had recieved. Cuts and bruises adorned his chest, legs, and arms. Some still bleeding from the days beating, while others were merely scars from a time gone by. His bones were visible, the lack of food he had to eat lead to a serious case of malnourishment. Sometimes, as he sat underneath a building, hoping to be alone, he would trace his finger along the line of his ribs. Travis was sixteen, but a man on the street would not be able to tell just from seeing him. Dirt seemed to cling to almost every part of his skin, and his once brown hair was so matted and dirty that the original color had been lost long ago. He had stark blue eyes, perhaps the only part of his body not covered in dirt.


Travis hated the people that had forced this life upon him. The so called 'Believers'. His Mother had been a believer, but that hadn't stopped her from being brutally murdered. Her killer was never found, and the Angels claimed she had died of natural causes, a believer would never kill after all. Yet despite everyone saying she died natural, Travis knew otherwise. He had gone to see his mother that night, to ask her a question. Wwhat he got instead was a man standing over her, an evil grin plastered over his face. The man held a knife, covered in blood, and drove it repeatedly into the woman's chest. How could mulitple stab wounds be called natural causes? His Father had been a believer to, but not as much as his Mother. After her death they lost their house and were forced to move to a lesser part of town. Because his belief was not great enough, Travis's father was forced to work to provide for himself and his son. One night his Father never came home, and the angels showed up at his door. Natural causes they called it, they overed condolonces, even the word of God. But Travis didn't want any of it. Because he refused to believe that Angels would call such things natural causes. He refused to believe that God would let both his parents die. The reward for his refusal was to live on the street and be called and Unbeliever.


If only he could believe. Believe enough to be provided food and shelter. But he knew that there was no way he could bring himself to sink that low. A low rumble in his stomach brought him out of his stupor. It was a constant reminder to how little he had to eat. The only times he was able to eat was when he stole scraps of food from the garbage as the Believers threw out what they didn't need. But the last bit of food he had been able to grab had been two days ago. Travis felt weak, and a little lightheaded. A quick check told him that his scalp was bleeding, no doubt from when he had been beaten up moments before. The world started swirling, and try as he might Travis couldn't stay awake. He collapsed against the wall, his body thumping to the ground in short order. The fall wasn't hard enough to wake him up, and so Travis laid there, unprotected from even the most basic of elements.


@LynxAmelia
 
Elizabeth Benson was new to town. She didn't know why though, she was never told these things. Things were being moved into their new 'home'. Her parents insisted on it being called a home, and not a house. Makes them adapt easier, they said. Her pale lips frowned as she looked up at the building from the porch. "I don't like it," she said, her voice soft and almost delicate, "It's too big."


"Shh. You shouldn't say such things, Betty," her mother admonished, "We should be grateful that our Lord has given us such comforts."


Watching her mother walk past her, Betty stuck her tongue out almost childishly. "Praise the Lord indeed," she muttered under her breath, "All she wants is the money."


After a few minutes of contemplation, the little girl, and by that it is implied that she is of short stature, decided to step into the house. It was large and spacious. Too large and spacious. Especially when it was going to be just the three of them. Try as she might, she couldn't get her parents to buy a smaller one. "Just be thankful to the Lord, Betty," was all they would say.


To be honest, she'd never truly felt that she had to be thankful. Not to the 'Lord' anyway, whoever that was. She'd never met him, so why should she be thankful to him? She'd met her parents though. As rich and snobbish as they were, she was thankful to them for feeding her and giving her a home and just an ounce of affection. She was grateful to her tutor who'd taught her everything she knew now. She had been the brightest girl in her hometown, thanks to him. But the Lord? She didn't see any reason in it.


As she passed their aging maid arranging her living room, she told her, "Tell mother that I am going to town," she said before striding off. She realized that she was even grateful to the maid for the many many meals she made and the way she kept the house sparkling. She turned around mid-step with a genial smile. "Thank you," she said.


Her smile vanished when she heard her reply. "Don't thank me, miss, thank the Lord," was what she heard. "Ugh!" was out of Betty's lips before she could do anything about it. She knew better than to voice her thoughts, that too in front of the maid. As she strode out of the house, she muttered once more, "Praise the Lord? Never."


She'd been walking with such a pace that she didn't even realize how far she was from her 'home'. At the age of 15, she had the curiosity of a cat. She was still in the residential area but all the buildings in this town seemed so queer to her. Stepping around a corner, she found herself in a slightly dark alleyway. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, just enough to make out the form of a man there. "Hello?" she called out, noticing he was on the floor. She picked up her skirt carefully and stepped closer, "Are you alright?"
 
Travis was dreaming, he knew that much at least. His Mother was still alive, and she smiled at him as he entered her room. Everything was just as it had been when they used to live together in the good part of town. Light drifted in through the window, casting long shadows across his mothers face. Curious, he leaned in closer to get a better view of the Mother he so dearly missed. Travis regreted it instantly, for as he leaned in his mothers face warped. No longer did she have the peaceful smile of a moment ago, no she now had that awful face of pain that she had died wwith. Her body was limp, blood stained her clothes, he had returned to the scene of her death all over again. A laugh rattled through the room, and he looked up. In the corner was the man that had killed his mother, and before Travis could do anything he lunged forward, driving the knife into Travis'es heart.


"Noo!" He yelled as he thrashed himself awake. It took him a few moments to realize that it was indeed just a dream. Pain wracked his body, as he attempted to drag himself into a sitting position. It was about that time that he noticed he was no longer alone in the alley he had collapsed in. A girl stood not to far away, and he remebered the faint sound of someone talking in his dream. Perhaps her words had broken sleeps harsh grip upon his mind. He took a moment to assess her, to see what kind of person she was. Well, it was obvious before he even looked at her. She was a believer, here to throw scorn and disdain upon him. Perhaps she wanted him gone out of her alley, such an eye sore would cause any well to do young lady distress.


"Run along Miss Believer," He spat as he tried to back peddle away from the girl as much as possible. Unfortunatly his body wasn't immediatly responding, and he instead ended up flailing in place. He hated it, hated showing weakness to someone who knew nothing of it. Hated being in such a situation where he would be force to take whatever sort of abuse that was about to be dished out. "This is no place for the likes of you." He added as he flinched away. He knew it was coming, a slap, or a verbal assault. Of course, thats how they always respond. Its what made them so easy to hate after all. And Believers love to be predictable if nothing else.
 
As Betty took another step closer, she could see the man starting to move. Startled by his cry, she took a step backwards and continued watching the man, her big blue eyes fill with curiosity and nothing else. "Hello-" she started but she was quickly cut off by his words. Her eyes went wide in surprise more than anything else. For never had she heard that word being used with such hatred.


Then her expression turned to one of sorrow. She was being hated by a stranger for being something that her parents were and she wasn't even sure if she was. Watching the man trying to get away from her, she wanted to comfort him if nothing else. "Please, please calm down Mister," she said, taking another step closer. Through the darkness, she couldn't make out his physical state, only that he was probably the thinnest person of his size that she had ever seen. "I'm not going to hurt you," she said soothingly, much like how she would talk to a wild animal she intends to tame.


"I don't know why you hate Believers, I honestly don't. But I don't think you have any reason to fear me," she said, "After all, I am probably not strong enough to cause a man like you any physical hurt." Her words were calm and measured, but behind that they were laced with sorrow, "Please don't fear me. I only wish to help."


It was her habit to do things that her parents consider 'strange'. Like talking to a man in a dark alley. Her parents would consider it dangerous too. "Curiosity kills the cat, Betty," they would say. But it was her curiosity that has made her wiser over the years. She pushed a long black lock that had tumbled down her shoulder. She'd always thought such things were a hassle. Like her long yellow dress for example. And her long hair. Betty shook her head a little to bring her attention to the man before her. She put on a small smile as she continued, "May I know your name, Mister?" she asked, her delicate voice a tad apprehensive, "So that I may have something to refer to you as."
 
Travis continued to try and back pedal away from the girl, slowly dragging his battered body inch by inch further into the alley. Unfortunately the alley ended in a wall, no where else to go. With his back against the wall he felt bad memories of past beatings surface. One such time, not to long after his father had died, he had gotten chased into an alley by kids almost twice his age. He had been barely ten at the time, and was unable to even put up a fight. The boys pummeled him, and kicked him, like they did on any occasion, but that time had been different. Behind the violent youths stood a man with a drawn hood. Travis recognized what he was immediately, an Angel. He didn't believe that either of course, all though when his Mother had been alive Angels used to bring things to their house all the time. After all they were the Lord's messengers, and they carried out his will. Supposedly they wore hooded robes because a normal man could not look upon their face without going blind. But he just sneered at the thought.


"Ready to believe now?" The Angel asked asked as he stepped forward and parted the mob. Travis stared defiantly at the man, not wanting even the most savage beating to break his will. Without warning the Angel whipped out his hand and grabbed hold of Travis'es face. The man leaned close placing his hood mere feet from the injured boys face. "You will believe, and you will beg forgiveness. Or else you will die, just like your parents." These last few words were a hissed whisper, barely audible even to Travis. Having delivered his message the Angel lifted the poor boy high into the air and tossed him heavily against the wall. With a nod the kids returned to there beating, making sure that there was no way that Travis would forget this particular set of events.


The mysterious girl's words drifted to him once more, breaking him from his past memories. Her words promised comfort, and he had nowhere to go. Surely if she had wanted to dispense some kind of beating upon him she would of done it already. Believers were not known to toy with them, rather they immediately acted upon him when the opportunity revealed itself. Shakily he dragged himself to a sitting position and rested his injured head against the cool alley wall. "How do I know I can trust you?" He queried as he watched the girl with mistrusting eyes. Even if she hadn't taken the opportunity, she still could. There were no depths the Believers weren't willing to sink to. She could even be baiting him, trying to get him to let his guard down so that another group of thugs could pounce on him and beat him further into the ground.


Even so she was a bit peculiar. He had never seen her before, and he had seen everyone in the town at one point or another. Particularly when he was rounded up and paraded in front of everyone, so that the Believers could get a peek at what would be waiting for them if they lost faith in God. Perhaps he could trust her. But even if he were to believe that she meant no harm, he would refuse to let his guard down. "My name is Travis." He said as he tried to keep a hard stare in his eyes. "Travis Quinn. I would get up and bow for you, or whatever Believers are doing these days." Once again he made sure to pronounce the word with obvious hate. "But I don't quite think I could manage in my current state." He wasn't lying, if he had been hurting before, the attempted escape had just made matters worse. No matter what he wanted, it looked like Travis was in the hands of this girl.
 
The girl had steadily drawn closer to the man. Once she was close enough to see the man's features, her expression turned to one of fear. For never had she seen anyone so battered and bruised. To her, it was almost painful to even look at the scars, the fresh wounds only made things worse for her. She clapped her hands around her mouth as she exclaimed, "Oh my!" She was terrifyingly close to tears, not from how unsightly he looked but from sorrow, with a fair amount of pity thrown in. For a few long moments, she stood still, not once taking her eyes off the mess of a man before her.


She was afraid, not that the man would be savage or he might attack her, but for his health and safety, but most of all, for his life. She could not imagine anyone taking so much of a beating and still staying alive. Added to that was the fact that he was severely malnourished. The poor thing probably hadn't eaten in days, months even. Her eyes remained wide with shock, tiny pearls of tears threatening to spill down her face as she stood stock still.


Finally, his words penetrated her seemingly deaf ears. "My name is Betty," she said, bunching up her skirt a little and crouching down to his height. She knew it was highly un-lady like and probably would earn her a lot of spite from this society of Believers, but she, she thought that belief lay in the heart of those who are willing to help those who needed it. "You don't need to bow to me, Travis. I don't think anyone who is of equal status needs to bow to another." The amount of hatred being thrown at her upset her greatly, but she had to remind herself that the hatred was fixated on that particular word and not to her in specific.


Her voice dropped an octave as she continued speaking, "From what you say, I can see that you despise Believers. I don't know why, nor am I anyone to judge. However, you can relax knowing that I am only one by birth and not one by belief," her face formed a small smile as she attempted to talk further without sobbing, "I do wish to help you. I hope you will accept, now that you know that I am not one of those who say a person's character is determined by whether he wishes to 'praise the Lord'." Her voice was warm, as she attempted to soothe his pained form at least with words.
 
Travis tried to portray a calm exterior as the girl came closer. For once he actually got a good look at her, as she was no doubt getting a good look at him. She looked like she had perhaps never seen a day of hardship in her life, not unbelievable considering her Believer background. Surely she had a nice comfortable life planned out for her, but yet here she was talking to an unwilling Unbeliever in a dark alley way. If anything this girl surely had guts, and he had to applaud her for it. But as she got a good look at him her face changed, and he flinched back. Surely she was afraid of him, afraid of the beaten man that sat in front of her. Any minute he expected the girl to turn tail and run, probably bringing back the nearest knuckle-dragger she could find to beat him further into submission. Despite her words to the contrary, he still was not ready to let down his guard.


As she introduced herself, Travis took on a look of shock. It didn't help that immediately afterwards she crouched down to his height. Not only was this girl introducing herself, but she was practically sitting on the ground with him! As if she had no regard for the dress she wore, or what others might think if they had walked by and saw her there talking to an Unbeliever. This girl was crazy! Or perhaps she was a figment of his imagination. A walking, talking fever dream. It was the head injury for sure. No doubt he was still laying in a pool of his own blood, waiting for some passerby to wake him up and send him on his way. Still dreaming, that was the only answer after all. For he had never encountered someone who had even attempted to treat him in the same way this girl was treating him now. And even in the midst of this stark revelation the girl kept talking, revealing that she wasn't a Believer herself, and then offering him aid. Definitely a dream. Perhaps if he closed his eyes and just waited she would disappear and he could go on with his awful miserable life.


But something nagged at him, demanded to know the truth. Was she really a figment of his imagination? Or a living, breathing girl, who really wanted to help him. Shakily he reached out his hand and grabbed a hand full of fabric of her dress. Cautiously he rubbed his finger together, feeling the texture of the fabric. A look of shock passed over his face as he looked the girl in the eye. "Your real?" He almost whispered, but loud enough for the girl to hear. For a moment he sat there, until he realized he still held a piece of her dress. Quickly he released it and profusely regretted ever doing so. If the girl had dirtied her dress a little by crouching down beside him, then he had just made it worse by smearing dirt upon the small piece he had grabbed out of turn.


"I don't know what to say." He started, trying to set his mind straight. Here was a girl, definitely real, claiming to be a Believer by association only. She was so close to him that he could reach out and attack her if he really wanted to. But he knew that he couldn't even muster the strength to run away, let alone attack this supposedly willing to help girl. "I don't believe you," He continued, "Not yet, but I will accept your help." He needed her help, in a bad way. If it meant something to eat, and maybe, just maybe a new set of clothes. Well Travis would probably do anything. Without those things he was sure that he would die, or be forced to take the handout from the Angel that still showed up every few weeks. "Are you ready to Believe?" It was always those same words they asked, and always the same response they received from Travis. They would toss him a stale loaf of bread and a half empty jug of water and then disappear. He half expected this girl to do that, just another test from the Angels to see if his spirit had finally broken.
 
Betty remained still, waiting for some sort of response. During her wait, endless possibilities wracked her mind. Would he attack her and try to kill her? Or should she just leave and be a 'good girl' like her parents wanted her to be? This line of thought was quickly interrupted by another. She had begun thinking where she was to accommodate him as well as how she was to keep him away from the prying public eyes. This too was quickly interrupted as the man began to move. His face had grown relaxed for a moment, though confused.


And then he moved. Betty could barely believe her eyes for she never thought the man would place so much as an ounce of trust on her. It made her happy, very happy to see that she was making some sort of progress with Travis. Even if it was to just touch the edge of her skirt. She knew she shouldn't be so optimistic, as she tended to get disappointed easily due to the same. But she couldn't help the small smile on her face as she watched him feel the soft yellow silk and lace of her dress. Nor could she stifle the soft laughter at his exclamation and the expression of disbelief.


"You don't have to be a Believer to believe that I exist, Travis," she said. Then she realized that she was probably offending him by referring to him by his first name. "I mean, Mr. Quinn," she added quickly to rectify it. "And it is alright," she said, watching his apologetic look, "In fact.." Betty stood up. Quickly, she ripped off a long piece of her dress from the lower end and smaller bits to make it look even all around. Then she approached him once more. She had noticed him bleeding a long time ago, but she had been afraid to move closer. Now that he had made an initiative, her hesitance had wavered somewhat. She scrunched up the long piece and pressed it hard onto the bleeding spot on Travis's head. "It may hurt a little bit, Mr. Quinn, do bear with me though. I do not wish for you to die of blood loss."


With her other hand, Betty began wiping the man's face clean of blood and the grime that seemed to have accumulated over years. Soon, she had begun scrubbing his neck down with some of the scratchier parts of the lacy cloth to get rid of the dirt. She had become so engrossed in it, that she had quite forgotten that she hadn't asked his permission to touch him. Perhaps he would tell her if she was crossing any limits. "Ugh, I need water," she muttered under her breath as she continued scrubbing.
 
Travis waited for the dream to end. Oh he had already confirmed it was no dream, that this impossible girl really existed. He almost wanted to touch her, to feel if there was a real person underneath the fabric of her clothing. But he wouldn't dare, not if it meant potentially driving away the only person who even attempted to treat him as a human being. Just sit there, sit there and take it like a man, or at least that was what he kept telling himself. What exactly take it like a man meant wasn't exactly clear to him. He just knew that, as long as she continued to mean no harm, he would allow Betty to help him to the best of her ability.


Her laughter drifted to his ears. A strange sound, one he hadn't heard for some years. People had laughed at him plenty, to be sure. But it was always filled with malice, or at his own expense. They would laugh as they beat him, or laugh as they ate food in front of him. Anything they could do to make his life more miserable. But this sound seemed to have no hidden meaning behind it, no dagger waiting to thrust into his pride. Then she referred to him as Mr. Quinn. Even as she could clearly tell he deserved no title she bestowed one upon himself. As if she was trying her hardest to make him feel welcomed and unafraid. He begrudgingly had to admit it worked, if only a little, otherwise he would have never let her get so close. A response, that's what he needed, he needed some polite way to respond to her, to let her know that she didn't need to worry with the pleasantries. But he had forgotten how, or perhaps never even knew. It was hard to tell when the only real memories that come to the service were his years of constant abuse by the general public at hand.


She continued to surprise him. At first he thought she was tearing her dress to rid herself of the part that he dirtied. But then she kept tearing, a weird action for a girl that had defied his expectation of how a person acted. To close. He thought as she leaned toward him, her hand outstretched. He closed his eyes and flinched slightly, afraid of the blow that she was surely about to deliver. It was foolish of him to have ever let his guard down. And yet it never came, well it did, but not as a blow he as expecting. She was tending to his most obvious wound, and attempting to bathe him. Or at least get some of the caked off grim off his face. Travis was embarrassed at this turn of events. He suddenly became aware of the state his body was in. The torn pieces of cloth he had carefully woven into a pair of shorts still held, but that was the only piece of clothing he wore. Yet she didn't seem bothered by his lack of clothing, in fact that never seemed to have even been an issue in the first place. Nevertheless it wasn't his proudest moment to have a girl he had only just met, and only knew her name, cleaning him off.


He wanted to tell her to stop, to leave him alone. But those words wouldn't come. There was something oddly soothing to this, despite the fact that she had to use a small bit of force to remove the layers of dirt from his skin. So he sat there, with his eyes closed, and allowed this girl to continue on. And then his stomach decided to speech up. The growl was rather loud, and if Travis had been embarrassed before then he would rather be dead now. It had been a long time since his last meal, soon the Angel would of shown up with the stale bread. Now though, he was almost entirely positive that Betty had heard his stomach growl. To make matters worse it decided to growl again, as if it knew the frustration it was causing and wanted to create more. He could feel his face turning red, the embarrassment reaching critical mass. Quickly he searched for a way to divert attention away from his rumbling stomach. "Please," He start. "Just call me Travis." Oh right, real smooth. Telling her to call him by his first name would definitely make her forget the whole stomach thing.
 
Betty wasn't making much progress with the dirt. It seemed to have formed a second skin over him. A quick look around the alley told her that there was no clean source of water, only rats and vermin. Putting the cloth down momentarily, she brushed back the hair that threatened to fall over her face. Damn the society. And damn her appearance. Turning back to Travis, she realized just how embarrassed he was. She would be, if someone was doing to her as she did to the man. Her hand faltered as she went to pick up the cloth to begin scrubbing once more. If she was offending him, he would say so, she told herself. But the man hadn't uttered a word, not one.


She smiled softly, noticing the man closing his eyes and relaxing into the scrubbing. Glad that he wasn't trying to run or pushing her away. Glad that she was capable of being of some real help. Now that some of the dirt was off his face, Betty was rather stunned at how young he was. Despite being starved, she could make out that he was probably about her age. And here she was thinking that people her age were hale and healthy, not this thin, weak and just battered. Even though her own form was petite, she was never this starved. She was well fed, she was given good clothes, a place to live that was too huge. Probably 10 people could be accommodated in her new 'home'.


Then she got an idea. She practically grinned at the thought. Then she heard a soft growl. And another. With a giggle, she said, "I could call you Travis, yes, but what shall I refer to your stomach as. Clearly, it wants to converse with me more than you do." Slowly she pulled the cloth she had pressed to his head, now rather soggy with his blood. She seemed pleased with the outcome though, the bleeding seemed to have stopped. Then she spotted a small opening in the walls of the alley. Squinting her eyes, she spotted a brass knob with a lion engraved in it. Just like the one that was in all the knobs of her new 'home'. "Stay right there," she said before standing up and walking into the opening.


The door opened into a room of her house indeed. But the room was far too small, much smaller than her room but it was rather spacious for one person. Opening a door that led into her house, she noticed that it was right next to her own room. Then she decided to go back out, walking through the dark alley once more. She hoped against all hopes that Travis would stay there, that he would choose to let her help him, that she could actually help one person, even if it is just one person.
 
Great she definitely heard the rumbling of his stomach. No surprise that she took the opportunity to take a jab at him as well. But at least is was accompanied by another laugh. Surely if she were going to make good natured jokes at his expense then he would just have to take it. It was just all so odd though. Never had he been in a situation where he would have to be nice to someone and try to carry on a conversation. He knew for sure that was why he couldn't seem to find the right words. Perhaps if this girl were to continue to insist on further interactions he would slowly grasp the concept of human interactions. Until then he would just have to do his best, accept that for now he was powerless even to show her a proper thank you. Travis was surprised when Betty stopped doing everything and got up, leaving him alone with just the words 'Stay Right Here.' Was she finally done with him, satisfied that she had helped him a little but tired of her act. Surely she would return soon enough with someone to move him out of the alley and back on the street. No, he shouldn't think that way, not with the way she had acted toward him thus far.


"Kind of interesting situation I find you in Unbeliever." No sooner had the girl left when the Angel appeared. No doubt he had watched the entire exchange from some hidden vantage point, taking whatever sick pleasure he could gleam from Travis'es discomfort. The Angel looked exactly as he always did. Well Travis was unsure if the Angel was male or female, but the way it carried itself, and the pitch of its voice, definitely heavily favored male. The Angel wore a white colored robe that covered its form entirely, included covering its face. "I suppose you wont be needing this." He continued holding up the Bread and Water that had barely kept Travis alive in the past several years. Had it truly been that long ago since he had received his last pity meal from the Lord everyone worshiped so heavily? The Angel threw the bread on the ground and dug his heal into it, grinding the precious sustenance into barely noticeable crumbs. He followed this action with upending the bottle of water, spilling it out and making sure that not even a single drop remained. "We really hope you enjoy your newly found situation, Because its going to be so fun to watch." With that the Angel was gone, giving Travis no chance to even retort.


He was devastated. Betty had only meant well, but now he was sure that he was truly dead. The bread was to far gone, the few crumbs he was able to gather together wouldn't even satisfy a mouse, let alone a boy who hadn't eaten in a rather long time. No water either, and without either of those things he wouldn't last longer then a day or two more. Tears came to his eyes as he realized for the first time just how hopeless his situation had been. Betty had been a nice little distraction, if only for those few minutes, and he could die in peace knowing that just maybe one person would miss him. Sure she didn't know him that well, but she genuinely came off as a nice girl, and he would hate what his death might do to the poor girl. That would be the scene that Betty would come back to. A Travis that had given up, small tears sliding down his face as he grasped the last remaining crumbs of bread in his hand.
 
Betty stopped short, her mouth open in a gasp yet again. Travis was... crying? The crumbs in his hands were so few that she barely noticed it. She took a tentative toddler-like step towards the man. Has she truly hurt him so? But how? All that she thought she did was to help him to her level best. 'Thought' being the understatement here. Her eyes lowered to her feet. Perhaps it was her remark from earlier. Betty gulped once as she lifted her big blue eyes back up to Travis's face. The expression there was heartbreaking. She bit her lip hard, truly remorseful now. She had never meant to hurt him. "Travis," she began, "I.. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have spoken the way I did. I apologize for being a snob and offending you. I truly am sorry," she said, tears welling up in her own eyes.


Never once did she think that someone else had been there. After all who would want to walk by this strange little alley the way she did. She took yet another step towards Travis before crouching down once more. "Hit me if you wish to," were her words, spoken ever so softly, almost hesitantly. Though she didn't exactly look forward to a smack on her face, she wasn't going to go back on her words, however poorly thought they were and however painful the outcome may be.


She scoffed at her own thoughts. Travis had probably taken a lot more hurt in one day than she had all her life. All she could do was hurt him even more. And what better way to get back at the Believers than to show the daughter of one of the richer ones just how much he had gone through? She squeezed her eyes close, clutched her hands into little fists and braced herself. "I promise not to make a sound," came her voice, even softer now. That probably wouldn't be that difficult. It.. It wouldn't hurt that much... Would it?
 
Travis had never once thought was his actions would mean to others. There was never any reason to. He didn't matter after all. An Unbeliever like him had no way to affect anyone in society, much less a girl like this. So he had no clue that a few simple words, and a grand gesture of kindness could lead to such a dark future. Now he had to deal with Betty taking his imminent death harshly. How cruel was the world that would place a person such as Travis upon it. With the inability to believe in what everyone else does he seemed almost tailor made to a life of cruelty and punishment. Betty came upon him in his broken state, and he honestly had no clue how she would take it. Why was she sorry? She didn't directly cause this. It was the cruel Angel performing the Lords will that had crushed the bread, not her. And now she wanted him to hit hurt, to somehow right the wrongs that he had suffered. He knew that no matter how much he might want to hit someone it would fix nothing. Much less take out any kind of anger on this girl who just wanted to help.


Instead he reached his hand in the air and place it upon her head lightly. "I won't hit you." He admitted. "You've shown me kindness. This isn't your fault." He let the crumbs fall from his hand, useless anyway. No point in holding onto the constant reminder of his looming death. Slowly he wiped his tears away, it was obvious that his mental state was having a rather adverse reaction on the poor girl. "I'm going to die. Maybe not today, but surely tomorrow or the next." He sounded sure of it. The finality in his words clinging to the air heavily. He released his hand from her head and sat heavily on the ground. If someone had told him this was how the day would of gone, he would never have believed them. Such a swing between extremes had almost given him emotional whiplash.


The pain still wracked his body, and he found the exhaustion of the day getting to him. So he just laid back, and stared up at the sky. Strange, he hadn't noticed that stark blue of the sky before. He had never had the opportunity to just look up and enjoy the view. Always to worried about how he was going to survive the day, or where he was going to sleep at night. "It's funny," He started as he glance over at Betty. "I'm going to die and not a single person on this planet will miss me." He let out a bit of a laugh. A hint of desperation clinging to it. He was sure of it, no way he could survive this now. To think all the things that he had survived up to it. Savage beatings, weeks upon weeks of starvation. His refusal to accept the status-quo had long set him on this path.


"I'm sorry," He added, for this was truly his fault. "Sorry for involving you in this, causing you to worry about me." He shook his head and let out a large sigh. "Life is just to cruel." He only wished that he would of gotten a chance to get revenge against the Angels. To show them what he thought of their forced Believer crap. IF he somehow survived, which he highly doubted, he would make it his goal in life to somehow topple the Angels and their Lord, and show all the Believers that what they believed in had truly been a sham. It would take time, and a lot of work. But he knew not to even worry about it, he was dead anyway.
 
The young girl had been shaking a little by now, so much for bracing herself. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, waiting for a blow that never came. Instead there was a gentle touch on her head. Hearing his words, she opened her eyes and lifted them to him. Here she was attempting to help him and he thought he was going to die. Like she would let that happen! "No," she muttered but he would just go on and on about it. She knew she ought to be sad about this but instead she felt a strange new emotion. Fury.


He didn't seem to see it. His words pierced into her mind, with the intent of causing her optimism to waver. Except that it didn't. She knew, just from the look of him, just how much he had suffered, how hurt he was. She certainly couldn't imagine herself living such a life. To put bluntly, it was the life of a tramp, only much worse. She would have sought her own end a long time ago if she was in his place. She would've allowed herself to die. Despite her understanding of his situation to at least this minimum extent, her fury remained. She did not like doubts. She did not want anyone to question her optimism and her decisions, her plans and her actions.


His successive words sought to crush her once more. "I care because I choose to care," she said vehemently, "I decide my own actions, Travis, as well as my emotions. If I feel sad, it is only because I allow myself to feel it. If I am hurt, it is my own doing as well. I worry because I wish to." Her words came on strongly for such a fragile little girl, "Nothing you say will make me go back on my own choice, on my will. However," she continued, "If you do not wish for me to help you, you can deny it outright. I cannot stop that, I cannot thrust my will on you, only on myself." Then she let out a long sigh and shook her head a little.


"But before you choose to deny, I think you must know something," she said, and, strangely, she smiled too. Not a proud and cheerful smile, but a small fluttershy one, one that was hesitant and threatened to disappear any moment. She lifted a small hand and pointed it down the narrow opening she'd gone through. "My house is right there," Betty said, "And there, I have a room for you. And food. And medicines for your injuries. And if you wish it, anything you would want. Clothes, footwear, a warm bath, all of it. But.." At this her smile wavered a little, as she was forced to face this possibility, "But.. Only if you want it. Only if you want my help. Only if you allow me to help you." Then Betty stood up, her hand extended in offering. Offering all that she had just promised, as well as help to stand up, "Only if you let me," she repeated.
 
At first her words didn't reach him. He was in his own little world of self pity after all. There was a brief second where he imagined what his funeral would be like. Pretty pathetic no doubt. No one would come to his funeral to mourn him, no instead they would use it as an opportunity. This is what happens when you are a Unbeliever. You will die alone, and no one will care. Awful things were in store for him, and if there were some way out he would, without a doubt, take it. So it was a bit of a surprise that this girl that had been nice to him, that he had hurt with his impending death, would offer to become his savior. If he had been a believer surely he would of viewed the girl as an Angel, but since he was not, she was merely the best thing the world had ever brought to him.


"Really?" He hesitated as he looked at her outstretched hand. It was hard to believe, and deep down he was skeptical. This girl had already done so much, but to go so far as offer him a home, food, clothes. Almost to much of a good thing, but he had to believe, for in his belief lie a chance for revenge. Travis reached up and took a hold of her hand gingerly, as if by touching her she would finally disappear into a cloud of smoke. "I... I want your help." He conceded as he allowed her to help him to his feet. Once standing he found that his balance was way out of sorts. Almost immediately he started to feel his legs beginning to collapse. Without asking he draped his arm around the girls shoulder, steadying his weight against her. He barely weighed anything at all, but he hoped that he wouldn't cause her to much distress by suddenly grabbing onto her like that.


"I can't seem to stand right now," He admitted as he held onto her for dear life. "So please forgive me for suddenly attaching myself to you." He definitely wasn't looking forward to the short trip down the alley. Standing was already taking the last reserves of energy he had, walking might just be a little to much out of reach. But he would try, and try as hard as he possibly could. Betty wanted to save him, so it meant he needed to be a person worth saving. No more pity party, or dwelling on the potential of his death. Travis needed to live in the now, to only worry about what the next few minutes held. Perhaps after he had gotten settled he could look toward the future. But he had no idea how long it would take for him to regain even a semblance of normal life. If a normal life was even what was in store for him. Either way he knew one thing was for certain, Betty had saved his life, and he would be in her debt, if she liked it or not.
 
The smile on Betty's face grew as she felt Travis grab her hand softly. She nodded a little to his skeptic question as she helped him up. Only then did she fully appreciate how thin he really was. He weighed next to nothing! Of course she didn't mind him holding her for support. In fact, she wouldn't even mind him asking her to carry him home. But she knew it would be far too embarrassing for him though, he would probably decline her help then. She walked slowly, attempting to wait for him at each step. She gently wrapped a hand around his waist to hold him up as she did. Once at her door, she turned it open slowly.


As she flicked on the light, the room came into view. Though Betty herself wasn't especially pleased with the room, the walls were painted a pale blue with a table and a couple of low set couches, strewn with cushions. Apart from that, there were little bits and bobs in the room, the floor was carpeted, the walls filled with showpieces, a couple of closets and a pile of trunks in the corner. It was rather spacious though, spacious enough to throw a small party in.


Setting him down on a couch, she walked to the bathroom attached to the room. She filled a tub with warm water and a soft sponge out with her. Walking past the mirror on the wall of the room, she realized just how messy she looked. That won't do. "Excuse me for just a moment," she said as she left the room and walked up to her own. Once in her room, she changed out of her now dirt covered dress and pulled on a new one. She piled her hair up on top of her head and held it together with a few pins. Donning an apron on her new and rather short blue dress, she walked back into the room and rolled up her sleeves. The smell of food drifted into the room through the slightly open door before she walked in. "I know you're hungry," she said with a smile, "But you need a bath first," she said, indicating to the tub next to her, "Hop in."
 
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The walk was every bit as hard as he imagined. Every step jarred his battered body, making him want to scream out in pain. But he bit it back, not wanting to show this girl that had helped him how weak he truly was. He was a bit surprised how gently she treated him, perhaps as if he would break if she held him to tightly. There was something comforting about it though. Having a real life person to lean on for support, someone who didn't mind helping him in the here and now. Even through his pain and exhaustion he couldn't help but smile, and allow himself for once to hope. She was as sincere as they came, and he hoped that he would not fail her when the time came to pay her back.


Once she helped him inside and left him on the couch he was shocked. When she had mentioned a room he had expected something small. Maybe big enough for a bed and a chair. Heck even a closet was something he had expected to be his new home. But this exceeded his expectations. Not only was the room probably the largest he had ever seen, but it was stocked full of various things that he had only glimpsed from afar. When he had been a kid his parents had not been devout believers, not enough so to have a house of this size. He could only imagine what the rest of the house would look like. What kind of furniture, or the size of the rooms. Travis was even more curious of Betty's room. He wandered how large of a bed a girl of her size would need. It was probably massive, maybe big enough to fit three or four Betty's rather comfortably. Perhaps he would get a chance to see this bed, even sleep in it one night! The thought was almost to much to bear. Even if there was no bed waiting for him in his future, the couch he sat on would do just fine. Already he was more comfortable in these few minutes then he had been in years.


Travis waited patiently for the girl to return. She said just a moment and he was almost certain she meant it. In the mean time he continued to wonder at the things around him. He felt like a kid again, amazed at the sights around him. Not once in the past few years had he ever felt so light hearted as he did now. But something still nagged at him, warning him that to let his guard all the way down would lead to disaster. The Angels were watching, and whatever he did, Travis did not want to ruin Betty's life. She really didn't take a long time, reappearing wearing an entirely different set of clothes. He decided to sneak a peek at her new wardrobe, hoping she didn't see his interest. If she had looked good in the previous ensemble that he had unfortunately dirtied, she looked even better in this new one.


She had been right about the hunger, and the smell of food drifting in almost made it worse. But she insisted on a bath, which almost made Travis make a weird face. Yet another thing he hadn't the privilege to have in a long time, to make matters worse he doubted his own ability to take a bath. Surely she would need to help him, which would be embarrassing, probably for both of them. Yet she was willing to do it, to help him become closer to the person he should of been all along. He attempted to push himself off the couch, momentarily achieving success. Unfortunately he could feel his legs giving out almost immediately. With a thrust of his body in the right direction, he stumbled a few steps before taking a fall directly into the tub. His fall created a decent sized splash of water, no doubt getting everything wet in the process. He winced, hoping that the unintended fall hadn't just ruined Betty's blue dress.
 
Betty was thankful for the apron she wore, for otherwise her dress would be soaking by now. With a light-hearted laugh she wiped the water off her face. Then she pulled out a small soft towel to wet the portion of Travis's body that wasn't already wet. And then she set to work with her sponge. The water had seemingly loosened the dirt on his body, for in just a few moments, the water had turned murky, almost opaque with the dirt that had accumulated on his body. With every stroke of the sponge, more of the dirt left his body. She took special care on the parts that bore a wound. It took her a good 15 minutes just to be done with the torso that was exposed above the water. His head and neck seemed a little easier, thanks to her scrubbing earlier.


Wiping her brow with a rolled up sleeve, she set to work on his arms. And then his legs. Glancing at the ancient grandfather clock that sat in a corner, she knew she was taking up a lot of time. Lunch had probably gone cold, but she hoped he wouldn't mind. She didn't think he would though. Anyone in his position would probably pounce at any morsel of food he found. Betty began smiling a little, she seemed to like this, helping Travis. Her mother would consider it the work of a maid, not a 'beautiful young lady' as her mother would say. Betty sighed a little. Vain as it seemed, she had never thought of herself as beautiful. Very often she would envy another girl her age, sometimes younger ones too, that had a fuller form. Hers was just thin. Some said it added to her charm, but she never thought so.


She lifted one of his legs out of the tub and rested the heel on its edge. The motions of her hands were steady and measured but almost involuntary by now. She began wondering how Travis would've been if he had been well fed. Her typical female mind responded : Rather handsome. She would probably have had no chance of meeting him then. He wouldn't even deign to look at her. She could almost imagine him taking her for a 10 year old and scoffing if she approached him. As it had happened with many others earlier. Probably why she lost interest in gathering suitors. "Who would want to marry a girl who looks like a 10 year old even if she has a developed body, mother? It is just absurd." That is what she would usually say, mostly to console herself. But that had been a long time back. Right now, she didn't care much for it. As much as she thought all this, she truly wished Travis had grown up like the rest of the boys she'd met. Even if it meant that he wouldn't have met her, she would rather have him well fed and clothed than the state in which she found him. Perhaps everything happened for a reason....


Betty began wondering how she could get clothes for him. She could make them herself, yes, but that would take time. Her gaze drifted to the trunks in her corner. Filled with memories of her brother. A brother who was killed by an animal when he was out hunting. At least what they told her. She had been completely broken, for her brother, whom she dearly loved, died at an age of 18, when she was just 11. She shook her head a little and brought her thoughts back to the present. His clothes would fit Travis quite well, even if it was a little baggy. And now that Travis was somewhat clean, she truly thought the clothes would suit him well.


Then Betty faced another problem. His nether regions. They were clad in his make-shift trousers, she called them that as she knew that no one would decide to wear it permanently. And even if they weren't, she certainly wouldn't dare try to scrub them clean! "Um.." She lifted the hand with the sponge to him, hoping he would take it. Her face was red with embarrassment, "Could you...? I'll go get some food for you." With that she ran out of the door, literally.
 
With a sigh of relief Travis let himself relax in the tub. His unfortunate little tumble into the tub had not caused Betty any undue stress, and even got a little laugh out of her. Good, at least it wasn't that terrible of an event. It didn't really seem to bother him, making an utter fool out of himself. The time to be utterly embarrassed had pretty much passed, well, sort of. He knew that he wouldn't be able to look her in the eye as she bathed him, much less say anything in relevance to the task at hand. So he decided to keep his mouth shut and his eyes closed. That way all he had to focus on was the gently caress of the Betty's hands and sponge upon his skin. Oddly he rather enjoyed the feeling as she went about properly washing off years of caked on dirt. A smile played across his face as he marveled at how such a little girl could be so skilled at something she perhaps had never done before. Well, he really had no one to compare her to, not like he had girls giving him baths on a regular basis. But even so, he felt he was in good hands, and that any worry he might of had about her was slowly melting away, just like the dirt on his skin.


No doubt a long time had passed as he relaxed in the tub. He was convinced he might of even fallen asleep under the effects of the almost soothing presence of Betty. Slowly he peeked out of a half closed eye, wondering if she were still there. Sure enough she was still scrubbing away. He studied her while she was busy, confident that she wouldn't notice his prying eye this time. Had she always been this beautiful? No doubt she had, but it must be something to do with the rather compromising situation he found himself. Quickly he shut his eyes, not wanting to give away his appraising look. She had definitely never done this before, not in the society they both lived in. Perhaps she even had someone else bathe her, a maid perhaps. Someone that would treat her the way he was currently be treated. He tried to imagine what it would be like, having someone to talk to as they scrubbed your back, or washed your hair. It must of been wonderful, no doubt she had never had a moment where she was truly alone. But it didn't matter, why would it. In the grand scheme of things he would never wish what he had lived through upon another. Especially not a sweet girl who had only done everything in her power to come to his rescue.


He was a little shocked to here Betty speak up, and at first thought that perhaps his bath had come to an end. Slowly he opened his eyes fully and saw her holding the sponge out to him, her face rather red. It took a moment for Travis to understand the situation. His own face started to redden as he accepted the sponge and nodded preparing himself for more embarrassment. Thankfully she beat a hasty retreat, leaving Travis to finish his bath. The water and Betty's administrations had managed to soothe his tired and aching body a little, perhaps more then anything he would of been able to do on his own. His makeshift pants had to go, and he hoped there would be some way for him to be rid of this one painful reminder of his life until then. Gingerly he took the sponge and preceded to clean the rest of his body that Betty hadn't gotten. At first it was a little awkward, and nothing like the way she had done it. The sponge bit angrily into the softer skin and he let out an almost involuntary gasp. It took a few minutes before he was able to finally grasp the concept. Mimicry, that's what he had decided was the best. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the sensation of the sponge upon his skin as Betty had washed him. By taking that memory he turned the angry sponge into a tool more reminiscent of Betty's performance. Satisfied he attacked the rest of the task with gusto, almost enjoying it.


Travis had unfortunately not thought of the implications for when Betty would return. He had been so ready to rid himself of the shorts he had been wearing that he had thrown the away without a second thought. Quickly he looked around the room until he saw them laying perhaps twenty feet or so from the tub. He could try and dash out of the tub, hoping his legs would hold him long enough to grab the dingy pair of pants. But an image flashed through his mind of the failed task. Betty walking in with his body splayed across the ground, his nakedness visible for all to see. No, he was going to stay in the tub. Hopefully she wouldn't notice, but just in case he modestly placed his hands in such a way that there would be no possible way for her to see. But it was a highly compromising situation, and he knew that if they had both been embarrassed before that it was probably going to get much worse.
 
Betty had simply dashed into the kitchen, startling the maid there. "Are you alright, miss?" the maid asked. It seemed as though she was about to put the lunch out on the table. "Are my parents home?" Betty asked. "No, miss. They are having lunch with the mayor. I got to know that just know," the maid let out a heavy sigh, "After I'd finished cooking this elaborate meal in celebration of your new home." Betty actually felt bad for her and she said, "You know how they are, Marge. In any case, I'll take mine up to my room if you don't mind. I don't see the point in sitting alone at the table." "Very well, miss," the aging maid said, wiping her hands on her own apron. Only then did she notice Betty's wet apron, "Why are you wearing that, miss?"


Betty tried to find an excuse. Mud and water... "I was trying my hand at gardening," Betty blurted, "I've always liked plants." The maid had a confused expression on her face, but said nothing. "I'll be going to do the laundry now, miss, if you don't need anything else that is." "Nothing, Marge." Betty then watched the maid leave. Then Betty put out plates and set about putting the food. First was a lovely cream of corn soup. Then 6-8 pieces of fillet minon. And a couple of omelettes. And finally a large slice of cheese cake. Putting out the silver, her own tummy began growling. On a smaller plate, she put a single piece of fillet and a couple of toasts.


She entered the room with the tray in hand. She actually paid no attention to the awkward way in which Travis was sitting, thanks to the water that was now opaque with mud. But when she saw the trousers lying far away from the tub, she turned red once more. She quickly turned her gaze away from it and headed to the table to set the tray down. Then she went to the trunks that contained her deceased brother's clothes. Picking out a pair of rather small silk trousers and a towel, she extended them to Travis, her back to him, "Take these," she said, still facing the trunks. She closed her eyes with her other hand, "I promise not to look."
 
Travis almost jumped out of his skin as Betty returned to the room. His situation hadn't really dawned upon him until the girl stood in front of him once more. Naked, and unfortunately in a pretty compromising situation. Thankfully the water had been muddy, a thing he had at first ignored. With a sigh of relief he sank into the tub a little more, hoping the cloudy water would serve as a buffer between himself and Betty. But he was stuck, unless she had some idea of a way to get him out of the tub. She seemed to have just such an idea. Just as Travis was wondering how he was going to get out of the tub without dying from embarrassment, Betty delivered a towel and something to wear. At first he didn't pay much attention to what she had handed him.


Instead he waited to make sure her back was turned before slipping carefully out of the tub. The long soak had done his legs some good after all. He was able to stand on his own, something he couldn't of done before Betty had helped him with the bath. Already he felt better then he had in years, and was shocked to see that his skin wasn't a muddy brown color. Slowly he dried himself off, taking extra care to make sure he wouldn't drip water on anything else in the room. Once satisfied he turned his attention to the rather small pair of trousers the girl had gave him. At once he felt himself blushing a bit more, but truly the time for modesty had long passed. Quickly, before Betty had a chance to peek, he slid the trousers on and glanced down at himself. The bath seemed to have highlighted his lack of food. He traced one of his ribs, and frowned as he looked back up at Betty. Travis wondered how she saw him, this freak of nature who shouldn't be alive. Perhaps he scared her, and she pushed herself hard to provide help for him even as she was terrified of his appearance.


Travis carefully draped the now soaked towel over the side of the tub and turned his attention fully to Betty. A smile played across his lips as he attempted to cross the distance between himself and the girl. Immediately the smile disappeared, as he discovered that his legs were still rather weak. While he might of been able to stay standing still on his own, walking seemed to be a task as of yet out of reach for him. He stumbled a bit, and almost fell, but quickly grabbed the side of the couch for support. Not wanting to admit that he was unable to perform even the most simple of tasks, he slowly made his way toward Betty, one piece of furniture at a time. Once he was caught up with her he chose to latch onto her again. The only way he could fully see what she had brought in with her. Just as when she had helped him into the house in the first place, Travis draped a arm over her shoulder and glanced at the food she had brought. He had no choice but to lean into her, his legs giving him no alternative. Otherwise he felt like they would buckle any second, and he would end up back on the ground. "So when do we eat?" He questioned a smile playing over his face as he gazed almost hungrily toward the food that she had brought with her.
 
"Oof.." Betty said as Travis clung to her once more. He looked much more presentable now. She knew she had to work on his hair sometime. As well as his wounds. Not to mention she had to get him fully clothed soon else she would seem as though she intended on ogling at him. And he would probably feel cold. She chuckled softly at his question. "You can eat whenever you wish to, Travis," she said, wrapping her arm around his torso gently and guiding him to the front of the couch. Sitting him down there, she took the plates out of the tray as well as the silverware and set it on the table before him. "Dig in," she said with a warm smile.


Glancing over her shoulder, she realized she had a lot of cleaning up to do. Thankfully, the room hadn't been carpeted yet so it hadn't become too wet. "You go on eating," Betty said, turning to Travis, "I have a little bit of work to do." Then she stood up and walked to the tub with the muddy water in it and the towel hanging over it. After putting the towel over one of the trunks, she set about tugging the tub back into the bathroom. The tub had seemingly become heavier, from the dirt that Travis had shed, no doubt. With a final tip towards the drain, the tub became clear of the murky water.


Then she walked towards the couch and sat down beside Travis. She looked at her own little plate of food but said, "Would you like some more?" pointing to the plate, "Feel free to take it."
 
Travis would wait politely until it was properly time to eat. With Betty's help he was able to sit on the couch, no easy feat to be sure. In fact he had a feeling that he might not be able to get back up. But that didn't seem to bother him, in fact he was perfectly content to sit on the couch and gaze hungrily at the food that Betty put in front of him. Once she had given the go ahead he practically dived into the plate. The food was incredible! It certainly helped that he hadn't eaten in such a long time. Yet he could tell that the person that had cooked the food had been quite skilled. Travis knew he was probably eating in a rather rude manner, but at the moment he really couldn't help himself. He attacked the food with such gusto that he was sure there wouldn't be any left. But then he came across the real problem, even though it hardly looked like he had eaten a large amount his stomach was starting to hurt. No doubt from the long time of exist on much less. The food was almost to much of a good thing, and he felt that if he were to eat to much, well the food might not stay down.


Betty returned from whatever task she had walked off to do. Travis glanced up at her, bits of food plastered all over his face. No doubt he looked ridiculous, but after being starved for years, he just couldn't stop. He kind of wished that she hadn't been there for this. Or any of the string of rather embarrassing events he had recently been subjugated to. Yet there was a warmth that seemed to radiate from her, a warmth that made Travis want to stay closer to her. The world was a cruel place, he had learned that for sure. But Betty continued to defy his expectation of what the world had to offer. Even now as he greedily gobbled food she seemed concerned for his well being, going so far as to offer even more food to him. Strange he hadn't noticed her eating at all. That concern became a bit of a problem, he didn't want to feel like he was eating all of her food. Even if he wasn't he couldn't bring himself to eat anymore anyway.


Travis shook his head as he looked at Betty. "I can't." He said plainly. "You haven't eaten yet have you?" It was a simple question. Not once had he seen her worry about himself. In fact he had been to worried about potentially dying that he had almost forgot she was a person to. She had needs and wants, just like him. But out of her kindness she had set her own personal requirements to the side to help him. He had desperately needed the help, but now he felt rather bad for taking some much of her time without offering anything in return. "Please eat something to. It's not right that your ignoring yourself for my sake."
 
Betty smiled up at Travis before picking up a napkin and wiping his face clean of the bits of food. "I'll eat sometime later," she said softly, looking down at the plate, "I brought that for you as well." She knew she was lying, she probably shouldn't. But she didn't want him to feel bad and not want to eat more just because she hadn't. She pushed the little plate towards him. "Eat up," she said, still smiling, "I have plenty more in the kitchen."


Almost as she said kitchen, her stomach rumbled loudly. She chuckled wryly in embarrassment a she placed a hand over it, saying "Shh.." softly, as though her stomach would understand her. Then she looked back up at Travis, "My apologies," she said, standing up once more, "Would you like some water? Or juice? Or tea?" she asked, bending a little with her head bowed, her hands clasped before her, just as her maid usually did, "Do let me know if you need anything Travis."


She probably did look like a maid right now, except without the apron that wasn't wearing at the moment. She would never be in this position usually, she didn't know why she was letting herself do it. Perhaps to make him feel better? To show him that she cared? Or to somehow make him feel as though her was finally taking the revenge he seemed to seek from the Believers? She did not know. But she hoped that she would appear pleasing to him, that he wouldn't hesitate to ask anything he needed from her.
 
"Stop." He said holding up his hand and looking straight at Betty. He shook his head in disbelief at the lengths Betty seemed to be going to. Unsure of what her motives were now, Travis was a bit concerned. "You don't have to do this anymore." He plainly stated and patted the seat next to him. They were equals, if that was Betty's intent to show him. No, she seemed to be implying that she was somehow lower then him, and that he should just start demanding things of her. Not only did that feel extremely wrong, but it almost made Travis want to run away. The situation seemed to be devolving into a series of miss communications. Each one of them wanting something different from this new dynamic they found themselves a part of. He had to do something, or else he felt that Betty would continue to demean herself in such a way until she had been satisfied. Perhaps she was still waiting for him to hit her, or maybe yell mean and ugly things at her. But Travis knew that he would never be able to do anything of the sort.


Carefully he arranged himself into a better sitting position. It was a failed attempt, for no matter how hard he tried he couldn't make himself look like anything but a boy unused to sitting on such a soft couch. Not so much discomfort, but more like a look of confusion as to how soft and easy it was to sink into. Well he didn't sink much, no doubt Betty herself would sink more into the couch then Travis could. It was hard to convey his feeling through body language, and he was unsure if he could find the right words. Years of isolation had no doubt stunted his social growth, and perhaps that had something to do with the way Betty treated him now. Was this the way all women treated men. In such a sub-servant manner where the expected the man to demand for everything they might want. If it was, well, Travis was glad he hadn't been a part of society up to that point. Betty had done nothing but show him kindness, even as she went to vast extremes in her attempts to do so.


He grabbed her hand and pulled gently. There was no real plan spinning in motion in his mind, he was just making it up as he went along. He only hoped that she would allow him to pull her onto the couch next to him. Otherwise it would be a little awkward as he hung onto her hand and attempted to pull her. There would be almost no strength behind his pull, so unless she weighed even less then him, he had no hope of ever actually pulling her down unless she wanted it. Either way he needed to correct her misconceptions. "Betty, I appreciate what you've done for me." He stopped as he glanced as the food in front of him. "But I can't do this, treat you like your wanting me to treat you." He looked her straight in the eyes. "Were equals, and I want you to know that. I owe you everything, and the way your acting now makes me feel even worse."
 
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