Matthew's eyes fluttered open as the early morning sunlight peeked through his bedroom window. He sighed, his heart already aching as he thought about the day ahead. He turned to look over his shoulder and saw Gilbert fast asleep, Gilbird cheeping softly in his sleep. He turned back over and reached for his glasses on his night stand. He pulled them on and slipped quietly out of bed.
He walked to his closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and an old flannel t-shirt. He tugged a brush through his hair and walked into the kitchen to make some coffee. He leaned against the counter, just waiting for his cell phone to ring. As the coffee finished making, he reached up to grab a mug. He poured him some and sat down at the kitchen table.
He jumped as he brought the hot liquid to his lips as his cell phone did finally ring. He grabbed the obnoxious device and opened before it could wake up Gilbert and pressed it to his ear. He could hear soft sniffles on the other end and swallowed the lump in his throat.
"Hello?" he asked softly, bringing the coffee back to his mouth. The person on the other end took a shaky breath before answering.
"Hello Matthew." Matthew managed a smile and leaned back in the chair as he heard the distinct British accent.
"Hey mama," Matthew replied, setting his coffee cup on the wood on the table. He stood up to walked into the living room to grab his shoes as he waited patiently for Arthur to answer.
"Morning love. How are you?" he asked. Matthew made a small sound in the back of his throat and shrugged.
"Alright I guess," he said, sitting down on the sofa and yanking his boots on. He listened to Arthur talk quietly on the other end between sniffles and soft hiccupy breathes. He went back to the kitchen and finished his coffee when Arthur asked something he was hoping not to hear.
"So... have you... have you been to his grave lately?" the man asked, choking on his tears over the phone. Matthew held back his own and shook his head, making his curl bounce.
"No mom, not lately. I'm thinking about going soon though. Listen... I've gotta go okay, I'll call you later alright?" he said and grabbed a set of keys and walked out of the house.
"A-alright Matthew. I love you dear," Arthur replied. Matthew unlocked the old white Ford sitting in the driveway and sighed.
"I love you too mama." The other line went dead and Matthew rubbed his dull bluish violet eyes. He set the phone in the ash tray, listening to it clink gently against the few coins still setting there. He stuck the key in the ignition and looked at the dog tags dangling from the rear view mirror. He reached out and grabbed the baseball cap sitting on the dash, running his fingers along the A on the front.
He swallowed difficultly and turned the key, cranking up the engine. He switched gears and backed out of the driveway. As he looked behind him out the back window, he could see the 'Go Army' shirt and dirty cowboy boots his brother had always worn when he was home. He could hear a Gatorade bottle bumping around in the floorboard and saw one of the one few Skoal cans he kept around. Alfred didn't chew tobacco much, only if he felt he really needed it.
Matthew pulled onto the road and moved the gear into drive. He pulled forward and rode down the old, unpaved road. He clicked the radio and smiled at the station, not having changed it since the news. He turned it way up, letting it pound against his ears. He bit his lip at the song that was playing and pressed his foot harder against the gas pedal.
Eighty-Nine Cents in the ash tray, half empty bottle of Gatorade rolling in the floorboard. That dirty Braves cap on the dash, dog tags hangin' from the rear view. Old Skoal can, and cowboy boots and a Go Army Shirt folded in the back. This thing burns gas like crazy, but that's alright. People got their ways of coping, oh, and I've got mine
Matthew fought down the onslaught of tears that threatened to overwhelm his vision. It had been nearly five years, and it still hurt. He reached up to wipe his eyes under his glasses and just let the tires take him. He didn't even care where he was headed, he just wanted to drive. He smiled, imagining Alfred sitting right next him, cracking a joke and nudging his shoulder. He watched the road in the rearview mirror turn to dust as he drove.
I drive your truck. I roll every window down and I burn up every back road in this town. I find a field; I tear it up, til all the pain's a cloud of dust. Yeah, sometimes I drive your truck
Matthew turned this way and that down the old back roads, rolling the windows down and letting the wind pull and tangle his hair. He almost felt like he could sense Alfred on the wind. He smiled, listening as the past went whirring by him in a blur. The two of them had run down these roads when they were younger, chasing and stumbling down the dirt. They would get scrapped up together and play together, always there for one another.
The Canadian looked up as he saw where he was at. Old John's farm. It was overgrown and no one lived there anymore. No one tended the fields and it was just sorta there. Matthew pulled forward, his tears finally starting to slip down his cheeks.
"I'm trying Al, I really am," he whispered, seeing his older brother rolling his eyes and punching his arm. He wiped his eyes as he drove into the field, changing gears and spraying grass and wet dirt everywhere. He spun in circles, driving all over the unkempt field. He drove and drove and the sun steadily got higher in the sky, making the huge cloud of dust sparkle in the light. He didn't even care that the gas tank was almost empty; he just had to get it out somehow.
I leave that radio playing that same ole country station where ya left it. Yeah, man I crank it up, and you'd probably punch my arm right now if you saw this tear rollin' down on my face. Hey, man I'm tryin' to be tough, and momma asked me this morning if I'd been by your grave, but that flag and stone ain't where I feel you anyway
He stopped the car, throwing the door open and stumbling out. He dropped onto his knees and buried his face in hands. He sobbed uncontrollably, gasping and hiccupping in the dirt. He clenched his fingers in his hair and let his tears fall freely. They fell and ran down his cheeks, leaving tracks in the dirt that had coated his face.
"Why?! Why did you leave?" Matthew demanded through his tears. "Why did you take him?" he demanded, looking up at the early morning sky as the sun beat down on him. He wished someone would answer him just so he would have something to yell at. His heart ached and throbbed as he bent over, practically crying into the fresh dirt. Why? Why does it still hurt so much? Why did you have leave? He pounded the ground with his fists, trying to calm down as he thought of his older brother.
I drive your truck. I roll every window down and I burn up every back road in this town. I find a field, I tear it up til all the pain's a cloud of dust. Yeah, sometimes I drive your truck I've cussed, I've prayed, I've said goodbye; shook my fist and asked God why. These days when I'm missing you this much
Matthew stood up shakily, not worrying about his legs giving out as he climbed back into the white pickup. He brushed the dirt off the knees of his jeans, and put the truck in drive and got back on the dirt road. His voice cracked as he sang along with the song, letting the music feel the cab of the truck and ease the ache in his heart and chest. Matthew wished more than anything that his brother was sitting beside him.
"I'm miss you Alfred. I can't tell you how much it hurts... waking up every day and knowing you're gone," he murmured as he drove back along the road. "You really were the hero Al. We all wish you were here." He could see the house up ahead and he swallowed, trying to steady himself. "I hope you're doing alright. I'll talk to you later."
I drive your truck. I roll every window down and I burn up every back road in this town. I find a field, I tear it up til all the pain's a cloud of dust. Yeah, sometimes, brother sometimes. I drive your truck. I drive your truck. I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind. I drive your truck
Matthew cut the car off, letting the last notes of the song linger as he pulled the keys out. He sighed tiredly, and opened the door, stepping out. He almost fell, but caught himself on the inside handle. He shut the door and trudged back inside, feeling a weight lifted from his shoulders somewhat.
The screen door banged close behind him and Gilbert looked up from the table as he saw Matthew enter. The slim man walked over to Gilbert and plopped down next to him, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his head in his hands. Gilbert didn't say a word as he simply rubbed Matthew's back soothingly.
"I miss his Gil," he mumbled, pulling his glasses off and rubbing his eyes. The albino sighed and leaned his head against the blonde's. "It's j-just so hard," he whispered. He looked up and saw the only picture of just him and Alfred hanging in the kitchen. They had just come back from rolling around at the creek and were covered in mud and who knows what else. They we laughing and smiling, a perfect picture happiness caught forever.
"I know Birdie, I know," Gilbert said softly, rocking them gently. "But Al vouldn't vant you to be sad all ze time, you know zat." Matthew nodded and looked up at the silverette. "You alvight?" he asked, running his thumb under the blonde's eyes. Matthew nodded and leaned into Gilbert's side.
"Thank you Gilbert," he breathed softly, his body slowly starting to fall asleep. He was just too exhausted to stay awake any longer. "I love you Al. I miss you."
Okay, I was listening to this and this most definitely does not do the song justice. I absolutely adore this song and wanted to do something for it. Lee Brice is an amazing country singer and you should definitely go listen to the song. Gil is simply there for moral support. I made it as unromantic as possible because this is supposed to be about Matthew and the relationship he no longer has with Alfred.
This song is truly touching and just makes me cry every time. I hope you don't all hate me now for writing something sad. I'll do a while bunch of fluff to make up for it, I promise. Please lemme know what you think and I'm going to bid you all Adieu, because it is late. Love ya'll!