Story 13

Posted: November 13, 2015 in Uncategorized

Got this done. It didn’t take too long at all, and was a little too much fun to write. Takes place sometime after book 3.


Another day, another chance for things to go horribly wrong. At least, that seemed to be Travis’ experience, much of the time. This was a man that had been through more physical trauma than most people his age…possibly more than most people ever, if one were to ask him. It wasn’t like this was self pity and exaggeration, either. The man had been shot, stabbed, burned…name it, he’s probably experienced it. He had even come back from the dead a handful of times. He was pretty sure it was five. Maybe four, maybe six…either way, it was still way more than just about everyone, and was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it was great. He enjoyed his life, nobody had to worry about attending a funeral for him… But on the other hand, he resented being taken to and ripped out of the Afterlife over and over. Not to mention the random pangs he might get in those areas he’d been stabbed (or in one case, bisected).

And he should have figured that today would suck when he woke up. The first thing Travis had been aware of upon awakening that morning was a figure standing over him. There was a hissing whisper of a female voice, stating “I own you, monkey…” and the feeling of cold hands all over him.

And he couldn’t move.

He could, however, scream.

The scream had been enough to wake Travis up from his nightmare, and he fell off of the couch. He lay on the carpet, drenched with sweat.


The woman that was responsible for his nightmares had been in prison for a few months now. And he’d stopped having those nightmares around that time. So why was he having one this morning?

Looking outside, he saw that it was snowing out.


He started to get up from the floor, tripping over the blanket and slamming face down on the floor. It took a moment, before he managed to detangle himself from the blanket in question.

Okay, time for breakfast.

He shambled into the kitchen, the rugburn from his earlier fall healing.

Nobody else was home for now. Did he get up earlier than Spence or Gemmy?

The phone rang as he started to raid the fridge.

He blinked, before going to answer it.

“Yeah, this is the Abbot house?”

“Travis, is everything okay?” asked the voice of his boss.

“Well…I kinda had a nightmare and tripped when I got up this morning. What’s up?”

“What’s up is that you should have been here fifteen minutes ago.”

Fifteen minutes ago…

“Fuck! Sloane, please, don’t be too mad at me. I think my alarm clock died!”

“Don’t worry about it this time,” she said. “But just know that Tony’s getting whatever pay I dock from your check. The sooner you get here, the more you’ll get. Got it?”

“Yeah, of course. Be there as soon as possible!”

He hung up the phone. Okay, so he would forego the shower this morning. And the hair care regimen.

Trav ran to his closet to grab his usual work uniform. And right there in the living room was where he chose to change into it. Black tee with the Batman logo and a pair of khakis, along with a belt. He made sure his nametag was clipped to the shirt before charging for the door to pull on his boots. They were more like soled mittens, to accommodate his opposable toes. Before standing up to grab a coat, he took a moment to tie his hair back. Or at least try to.

Today, the elastic hair tie he generally used had decided that it was its time to go. It snapped in his hand, and he punched at the door in frustration.

Okay, FINE, then!

Travis stood up to grab his coat, rushing outside. He was ready to go. Mostly, anyway. Still hungry, but he could grab a breakfast sandwich somewhere along the way. He knew he had enough in his wallet.

And so, at a quick walk, he began to make his way in the direction of the comic shop. The trek through the residential area was uneventful, thankfully. But when he got closer to the stores, restaurants, and labs, some speed demon had charged past him and managed to splash some road slush on him. And he had just cleaned those khakis recently, too!

He grumbled, before coming to a stop at a fast food establishment. He didn’t care what he ordered as long as it had bacon, egg, and cheese. And the line here didn’t seem very long at all. Okay, then. Time to wait.

After five minutes, the line had not moved at all. As it turned out, the person at the counter was paying for a large meal in pennies.

In. Freaking. Pennies.

Travis sighed as he waited. He could hear his stomach begin to growl, shifting in his spot. The person in front of him turned around.

“Got a problem?” he demanded, standing a good 6 inches over Travis’ height.

“No…” Travis replied, staring up at him.

“Well, it sounds like you’ve got an attitude problem here. That lady not moving quick enough for you? That it?”

“I never s-”

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, now does it?!”

Travis blinked, raising an eyebrow at this inexplicably angry man.

“Well, no…”

“Then what’s your problem?!”

“Right now, it’s the fact that you’re screaming at me because…well, I don’t know why!”

The woman up front eventually finished paying for her meal (which was well on its way to being cold by now) and the angry dude in front of Travis moved up to order.

Great. It was almost his turn.

He waited patiently for Mr. Confrontational to finish ordering, relieved when it was finally his turn to go up there.

“Hey. Could I get three bacon, egg, and cheese bagels please?”

The cashier shook her head. “I’m sorry, we’re all out.”

“Ah. Which one?”

“Eggs, bacon, and bagels. We still have some breakfast burritos, though, if you’d rather go with that.”

“Yeah, I’ll take four of those.”

“That’ll be $8.77.”

Travis went to grab his wallet, only to learn one thing…

It wasn’t in his pocket. He must have left it at home. And at that point, his face turned redder than his hair.

“Oh…uh, I think I forgot my wallet at the house…” he admitted.

He looked to the long line behind him, wondering if anyone would be willing to pitch in. And as nobody volunteered to do so, he had a feeling that would have been a stretch.

“Okay…just cancel the order, then,” Travis said, resigned to his hungry fate.

He left the restaurant, tail between his legs. He was late enough as it was.

Travis rushed down the sidewalk, only stopping when he had to wait for the signal to cross the street.

He waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

But it refused to change.

“Hey, you!” someone yelled.

Trav looked around, wondering who was shouting and at whom.

“I’m talking to you, monkey boy!”

And soon, he found the man yelling at him.

“Light’s broken! You’ll have to take the detour.”

“And where’s the detour?”

“Other side of this block!”

Other side of that block.

Okay, then.

He began to follow this other person’s instructions. There was only one more street to cross between here and the comic shop. Just one more crossing and it’d be at the end of that block.

He got to the end of that block, preparing to cross. The light to cross was lit. Finally, something would work out for him today… Sure, this part of the road was a bit icy, but as long as he managed to cross carefully, he’d be okay.

He was in the middle of the crosswalk when the ambulance tore down the street. He tried to speed up his trek to the other side, but managed to slip and fall on his ass.

Travis tried to scramble out of the way in time, but he wasn’t so lucky.

The ambulance slammed into him, breaking a number of bones along with it. Among them were some of his ribs, his neck, both shoulder blades, an arm, his pelvis… It might have been easier to determine which bones he hadn’t broken, really.

Travis landed on the ground, his vision already darkening. His breath was shallow, his lungs having been punctured by his broken ribs. There was a good amount of internal bleeding.

Faintly, he could hear the ambulance screech to a halt. Panicked voices pointed out the fact that they had hit someone. He could vaguely feel hands on him, checking his pulse.

They found nothing.

“Okay, call it. Time of death, 10:30am,” was the last thing he heard before everything just…


He was loaded into the ambulance, and they searched him for identification. Without the wallet, it was, of course, difficult. But once they had reached the hospital, the employees recognized him as being Dr. Spencer Abbot’s brother in law. He was called down to the morgue to identify the body.

“Yeah…that’s Trav, alright,” he had said when he looked him over, managing to keep a straight face.

On the inside, he wondered if this was the big one this time. The one from which he would never revive.

Spencer, after half an hour down there, turned to leave. The M.E. was loading Travis into a refrigerated drawer.

Both froze when they heard what sounded like a monkey screeching. Slowly, they turned around to look at the drawer.

“…You don’t think he’s…”

“Pretty sure he is,” said Spencer. “Let’s double check, though. Just to be sure.”

The M.E. put his hand on the drawer handle, slowly pulling it open.

And sure enough, Travis was trying to breathe, his eyes looking around.

“…Seen my pants anywhere?” he asked. “Freezin’ my ass off, here…”

Spencer walked over to hug him, being sure to go as gently as possible in light of the broken bones. Travis grinned slightly.

“Good to see you too, Spence, but I’m still cold.”

Before much longer, a gurney was brought down for him to be loaded onto, along with a backless hospital gown. He’d make a full recovery in a few hours. But for now, it was time to rest.

Spencer made sure to call the comic shop to make sure they knew about the accident. Not that he needed to, really. It had made the 12:00 news.
And of course, Travis was still really hungry.


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