Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story!

Anonymous reviews enabled!

Of Different Tongues

For NessaYume. Happy birthday! Sorry your gift is a year late. ^^;

*Edit*

For those of you who were alerted to the story via email and saw that Mogi and L were in it I apologize. I was unfamiliar with the new feature and added them by accident.

I looked from my ticket to the device above me that told the status of flights coming in and out of the airport. I could see though a large window working as a wall to the right of me that it was a full-on blizzard outside. I cursed in Croatian, not wanting to use Slovenian, and went to a nearby bench. I sat down heavily and placed my carryon backpack next to me. In it I had an extra outfit, some painkillers, some snacks, my wallet, and my phone. My phone which had died at least an hour earlier and its charger was in my actual suitcase.

I had provisions, but they were mostly useless. I didn't speak enough English to ask for some very important things. Because of that language barrier, I was rather screwed. I looked up from my seat to the device listing flights again. There was no change. Every one of them had "CANCELED" to the side of the flight number. I let out a heavy breath and hung my head.

I noticed some movement underneath the sign and heard a masculine voice say something in English. I didn't understand much of what he said, but I needed help. I looked up to see an oddly-dressed redhead, whose eyes were covered by orange-lensed goggles, looking up at the device with the flight information.

I reached out and tugged on his sleeve to get his attention. He started a bit then looked at me. "Help please!" I held out my ticket. He took it and inspected it. "When?"

He handed the ticket back to me and shrugged. "I have the same flight so I don't know. Hang on, I'll ask someone who works here." I blinked, not having registered most of what he said. He must have noticed it on my face. "Do you speak English?"

I recognized that question at least. I shook my head. "No."

He hesitated then sighed. I heard him mutter some words I wasn't familiar with. He held up one finger to me. "Wait here." He then turned and left towards a desk to the side. Behind the counter was a woman who looked very flustered as at least twelve other people swarmed around her asking questions and waving tickets. I noticed the redhead waited patiently behind the mob for his turn. About ten minutes later he returned to me.

I looked at him hopefully but he shook his head. He pointed to the window wall. "Too much snow." He pointed to the ticket in my hand. "No flight until tomorrow." I nodded to let him know I had understood. "You should get a hotel." He put his hands under his head like a pillow. "Sleep until tomorrow." I nodded again then groaned and hung my head as more of the situation hit me in the face.

"Don't know! Don't taxi! Don't hotel!" I was exhausted and the little English I did know was getting harder and harder to remember.

There was a pause and the let out a harsh breath and muttered to himself some more. Then he held out his hand to me. "I'll help you OK?" I nodded and took his hand to get up. He sighed as he glanced out the window wall then pulled a phone from his left jeans pocket. He turned it on then pressed some parts of it while mumbling, "Taxi, taxi, taxi" under his breath. After a while he pressed another spot then held the phone to his ear. After a pause, and a few words I didn't recognize very well, he hung up and turned to me. "We need to go outside. The taxi will be here soon." He then paused. "Do you have money?"

I nodded. "Some dollars. If we go to a bančni avtomat I will get more."

He looked at me in confusion. "A what?"

I sighed. "Bančni avtomat. Card goes in money comes out."

His face registered comprehension. "Ohhhh you mean an ATM. Automated teller machine." I blinked then rubbed my left eye tiredly. "Right. I guess now's not the time for English lessons. Follow me." He waved his hand towards him and walked away. I put my backpack and jacket on quickly and followed him. He led me outside and I saw him shiver. I was used to the cold but he only had on a thin long-sleeved black and white shirt and sleeveless fake tan fur and leather vest. He rubbed his arms in an attempt to heat himself. I was wearing a jacket and was used to such weather so I was fine. He noticed I wasn't shivering and turned to me. "How are you not cold?"

I smirked. "I am from a usually cold place."

He tilted his head. "Russia?" I shook my head no and opened my mouth to say Slovenia but he turned and saw our taxi and began waving his arm. "Hey over here!" The taxi pulled up and he went to the other side and opened the passenger door and got in. I opened the door near me and got in as well. He leaned forward a bit to address the cabbie. "You know of any decent but relatively not pricy hotels near here? Or even a motel?" I didn't understand him but I trusted he knew what he was doing. Meanwhile I was struggling not to fall asleep in the seat.

The cabbie replied to him and he nodded and, presumably, agreed to what was said and we took off. I watched the buildings pass by us. They were all hard to see through the thick snow both covering them and continuing to fall. After a while the cab pulled up next to an old-looking small building. I looked at the fare on the price box and pulled out my wallet to pay my share. Unfortunately that meant I spent the last of my dollars, but that was only fair.

We both got out and went inside. It was a generic but cheap hotel lobby that smelled of cigarettes and stale air. The redhead, whose name I felt guilty for not knowing at this point, went up to the woman at the desk and began speaking with her. After a while he approached me and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He then held up one finger. "One room." I nodded that I understood and that is was fine. He then hesitated but kept his finger up and said with embarrassment and reluctance, "One bed." I thought about it for a second then accepted we had no choice. I nodded and went up to the hotel clerk.

"How much is room? I pay." She blinked but rattled off a number. I nodded not really having comprehended what she had said. I was too tired to care at that point. I took out my wallet and handed her my credit card. The redhead went up to me and started to protest but I held up my hand and shook my head. I saw him prepare to retort but I was caught off guard by a yawn. I saw him grudgingly decide to let me pay, knowing it would mean I could get to bed sooner.

The clerk handed me back my credit card then gave us a plastic card key to open our room. The redhead and I went to the elevator then rode it to our floor. I walked down the hallway to our room and opened the door. I was unsurprised at the genericness of it. It had the old wallpaper, ugly carpet that was undoubtedly once another color than it was then, old desk made of particleboard, and a medium-sized bed with horribly firm and crinkly bedsheets that you came across in any cheap place of public lodging.

I dropped my backpack on the table then went to the bed. I kicked off my shoes and lay on the left side of the bed without even removing the covers. I was asleep within seconds.

When I woke up, I heard a shower running nearby. I rubbed my eyes and looked around, unsure of where I was. When I remembered, I sat up and looked next to me. The sheets on the other side of the bed were mussed but empty. I realized that the redhead was the one in the shower. I quickly got up and went to my backpack to check if anything had been stolen. Nothing had and it didn't seem it was disturbed at all. I went back to the bed and sat on the edge waiting for the redhead to be done with his shower. Not much later he reappeared in the same outfit but with wet hair and no goggles.

He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I didn't bring a bag of stuff because I thought I wouldn't need it."

I smiled genuinely. "I do research first."

He raised his eyebrows. "Research? That's a bit of a big English word. Are you able to understand me better after sleeping?" I nodded and he grinned. "Awesome." He moved to the side of the door. "I guess you'll probably want to shower next." I nodded and retrieved my spare outfit from my carryon.

I went into the bathroom, which was still steamy, and turned on the shower before getting in. I was surprised that I didn't have to fiddle with the temperature before it was good to get in. I tried to be as quick as possible, so as not to leave the redhead waiting, but I was reluctant to get out anyway. I used the hairdryer attached to the hotel wall and changed into my carryon outfit. It was pretty much the same as my other one, dark narrow jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt.

I stepped out and saw the redhead looking at his phone. He noticed me and pocketed it. "The flight is still canceled. I'm starving and room service here probably sucks and it's expensive. Do you want to go to a restaurant? On the way there should be an ATM." I nodded and put my dirty clothes in my carryon then slung it on my back. "Good thinking. We can probably check back in if needed but I don't see the point of paying for another day if not." He gave me a half smile at that.

We went downstairs and checked out. He then pulled out his phone again. "I looked up some good restaurants here. There's one not too far walking distance." The snow had let up enough to not be too much of a hassle for me to walk in, but as we were walking I saw him shivering and rubbing his arms. His wet hair began freezing a bit. He stopped and pointed to a building nearby. "Th-that's a bank. I-it sh-ould have an ATM." I nodded and walked in. He followed me and was visibly relieved to be out of the cold.

I went up to an ATM and frowned realizing that I didn't understand the instructions. The redhead noticed. "Here I'll translate if that's OK." I nodded and with his help withdrew money.

We then went back out and eventually got to the restaurant. "It's a pizza place. Do you like pizza?" he asked.

I nodded. "It is good." We went up to a podium and a waitress led us to a table and gave us menus. They had pictures so that made me choosing easier. Both of us decided on splitting a cheese pizza. I asked for a Coca Cola and he asked for a root beer. I noticed the redhead check his phone and mutter about the flight still being canceled. I felt guilty having gotten all this help but not knowing his name. I cleared my throat and he looked up. "I'm sorry this take so long, I am Mihael."

He had put on his goggles before we left but I had the feeling he blinked in surprise before responding. "I'm Mail, but everyone calls me Matt." He gave me another half-smile.

"Matejek. Matt." I nodded. "Good name."

He tilted his head to the side. "What did you call me the first time?" He didn't sound offended but highly curious.

"Matejek. It means 'little Matthew' or 'Matt' in Slovene."

He raised an eyebrow. "Slovene?"

I sighed. Nobody seemed to know much about my home country wherever I went. "Slovenia. Under Austria. In mountains. Often cold."

Both of his eyebrows were raised this time. "I've never heard of it."

I sighed. "Not many people seem to." Just then out food was put on the table. We were given paper plates and straws to add to our glasses of soda pop. Matt used a pizza cutter to cut himself a slice and put it on this plate. I did the same. I hummed in appreciation. After I had finished and swallowed my mouthful I said, "This is good. Not like European though."

"What is the European kind like?" he asked through a full mouth.

"Europeans call this type of pizza Margherita not cheese. It is wood cooked for extra flavor. And it is all handmade." I took another bite then drank some soda pop. "This drink tastes… different."

He shrugged. "It's probably because they use different ingredients here than outside the country. They don't like having the wrong types of sugar and such outside the U.S." He coughed a bit then changed the subject. "So, Mihael, what are you headed to New York City for?"

I smiled then said, "I go to learn Criminal Justice in university. I want to become United States citizen and find a good career. America always sound full of opportunities."

He looked a bit embarrassed. "I… you'll face a lot of discrimination because you're an immigrant here."

I nodded, aware of that already. "I know. I must work very hard to beat that."

He nodded. "Good idea."

"Why are you headed to New York City?" I asked.

He took another slice of pizza to his plate then said, "I'm studying Information Technology. I've always liked computers and anything digital so I figure it will be right up my alley." He noticed my blank look at the last part and clarified, "It sounds like a perfect path for me to take career-wise." I nodded in understanding.

He took a bite of his new slice and checked his phone again. "Oh Snapple the flight is leaving soon! We have to hurry up here." I nodded and ate the rest of my slice quickly. I sucked down my soda pop and paid the bill that had been given to us when the waitress noticed we were leaving. I paid my share and a bit extra since I knew Americans gave tips.

Matt and I rushed outside into the much-lessened snowfall. After speed walking to the airport, and hurrying to get through a security checkpoint, we were able to go to our flight just before they loaded passengers. Matt looked at his ticket and then mine again. "We're not in the same area on the plane" he said sadly. I nodded and held out my hand for him to shake as I recalled Americans doing.

He did so and I smiled. "Nice to meet you then. I hope we see each other later."

He gave a half smile again and said, "Absolutely."

We both got on the plane and took our seats. The flight went smoothly thankfully. I got off and went through another checkpoint then got my suitcase. When it was over I saw Matt briefly before we had to go our separate ways.

After I left the airport, I hired a taxi to a condominium where my father had a friend of his scope out to see if it was good to say in. I went to the front desk and got my key. Once I got to my condo I was shocked by how big it was. It had a full bathroom, small kitchen area which, was fully equipped, and two bedrooms. I unpacked my belongings and set them up. I then got under the covers of the main bedroom bed and slept.

I got up the next morning and went to the front desk. I asked them to call a taxi to take me to my university. I went to my first classes and realized I would need to speed up my knowledge of English even more. Sadly I had nowhere I knew of to learn it outside of my English second language classes; and they were only one hour twice a week.

When I got to my final class, which was required for almost any diploma, I was mentally exhausted. I was about to sit when I saw a head of red hair face down on a foldup flat part desk in the back of the auditorium. I went and sat next to the owner and was shocked to see it was Matt. "Matt?" I asked hesitantly.

His head shot up and he looked shocked to see me even with the goggles hiding his eyes. "Mihael? What are you doing here?"

I tilted my head and gave a tiny grin. "This is university I enroll in too." He chuckled tiredly. "Why are you so tired?"

He groaned. "I had a friend of mine find a good apartment before he graduated. I put down a deposit but when went to it, I saw it had burned down overnight. Some snow hit a light socket or something so now it's gone. I got my deposit back but in the meantime I'm homeless."

I paused and thought then realized in good conscience I couldn't let him be when I had two bedrooms. "Matt, you help me. I now help you. I have two bedrooms. Teach me English and I let you stay."

His jaw dropped. "Mihael I couldn't do that."

"Why not?"

He hesitated. "Because… because…" He gave up and sighed. "I accept. I'll pay you rent though."

I shook my head. "You pay for yourself in English lessons. Saves me money from tutor."

He chuckled. "Alright then. After class is over I'll move in if that's OK."

"Yes. It is good." The professor came in then and I sat down. All I could think about through class, though, was how amazing it was to be able to get together and help each other out with such a large verbal gap. Somehow, however, we found help in each other despite being of different tongues.

This is inspired largely (laaargely) by the frustrations I had in France because of the language barrier. I spoke, and still speak, pretty much no French; so when I saw the word "restroom" at the Normandy D-day cemetery (which is technically American soil so it had English in various places) I nearly cried.