"I can't believe we get to share a room for the whole trip! I thought the selection process was completely random." Matthew dropped his bag by the door and looked around their room. It was a standard cheap hotel room, dated furnishings and a general smell of damp. The twin beds looked older than he was. Still, it was clean and it was their home for the entirety of the trip. He looked over at Gilbert who was still standing in the doorway with a gentle smile and eyes that betrayed a thousand secrets. "You had something to do with this, didn't you?" The German man shrugged, finally entering the room with his own suitcase.

"Maybe I paid a visit to a certain teacher in charge of room allocation and expressed intense concern about me not being able to concentrate with a room-mate that will encourage my bad behaviour...I also had a loud conversation with Francis around her about how I was so worried about you because you were being bullied and I didn't want to say who but they were coming on the trip too and there was a chance you could be paired with them."

Matthew snorted, looking through all the cupboards in the room. "People would have to notice me to pick on me, you're the only bully in my life." The silver haired man gasped, clutching at his chest in mock-hurt.

"Me? How could you accuse me of such a thing? I am nothing but wonderful towards you."

"Oh, so it was wonderful of you to start shaking your water bottle by my ear as soon as I said I needed the bathroom when the seatbelt lights had just come on?" Gilbert made a vague hand gesture and grinned proudly. "And was it wonderful of you to lie to me and tell me that you get a secret food menu for signing up to a free in-flight membership to a club, leading me to ask the air-hostess if I could join the mile-high club mid flight or whether I had to wait until the end?" Gilbert fell onto his chosen bed, giggling maniacally. "See, you're a bully!"

"Ah, you love me really." Gilbert sang, batting his eyelashes at his Canadian friend. The blonde put his finger to his lips in thought, noticing the way his friend glanced over them hungrily.

"Maybe I will if you let me have the bed by the window..."

Gilbert rolled his eyes and got up, sighing heavily. "You're so high-maintenance." He acted like he didn't want to, but they both knew he would always do whatever would make Matthew happiest. The blonde had known about his friends crush for a while, not that the German man realised. It was really obvious. He felt guilty for encouraging it, flirting back with the other man constantly, but he liked the attention, liked feeling attractive. Liked the fact that the most popular and desired guy in school wanted him. It wasn't his fault he didn't return his feelings, it was just that he joked too much and never took anything seriously. Plus he was so loud...and Matthew had never really dated a guy before and even though he figured he was gay he was more attracted to refined people. Gilbert's friend Francis, for example, was more the type that Matthew would love to date. Beautiful Francis...Maybe he'd ask him out at last when he got back...

Got back...

Matthew jolted awake with ice running through his veins. He was still being pressed into the wet bottom of the raft. "Gil, dude get off you're hurting me." There was no response. "Hey..." He tried to sit up, feeling a large weight slide off him and land heavily beside him on the raft meant for 12 people. "Gil?" His usually platinum hair was browned with dirt and grime, and there was something dark on the side of his jacket. He got closer, smelling something metallic in the air. "Blood?" But he couldn't see a wound. He knelt over his friend and carefully turned him. He cried out, not words but a noise of shock and agony. Along his friend's back was a deep gouge, oozing blood. Bits of metal were still stuck in the wound and his shirt was crisp with blood that had already dried. Shrapnel from the explosion must have hit him. He frantically tried to find a pulse, breathing, anything. Any sign that his friend was still alive.

"...Fuck." It was said so softly that the blonde nearly missed it. He gasped and looked hopefully into his friend's face, searching for any sign of consciousness. But he was still unconscious. Still, he was alive. Stupid and vulgar as ever, but alive. The Canadian looked around the raft to see how far they were from land. There was a small bank coming up that they were drifting close to, but the tide of the river would pull them past. The Canadian thought fast, grabbing the end of a strip of rope that had held the raft to the side of the plane, he clambered over the side. There was about a foot drop before he plunged into icy water. It came up to his shoulders, and occasionally splashed over his head. Still holding onto the rope, he pulled and stepped towards the bank. The riverbed was not solid, and wet mud engulfed his feet. He slid on the ground, going nowhere. Now he was starting to sink into the mud. Each pull sending his feet deeper. The water was up to his chin now, occasionally splashing into his mouth and making him cough. He began to panic. He screamed, causing him to breathe in a mouthful of water and choke. He couldn't catch his breath. His feet were sinking deeper. The water reached his bottom lip and he couldn't catch his breathe. He struggled frantically, crying. He tried to just breathe through his nose but his breath was too frantic. He was going to drown. His 21 years of life were over before they had even begun. He pulled on the rope and tried desperately to pull himself up on the raft but he couldn't grip properly. He swallowed water with every breath. His lungs burned, his chest and legs in agony. There was also a sudden pain in his scalp that he was too panicked to understand.

And then suddenly he could breathe.

He grabbed on to his lifeline desperately, clinging with all the strength left in his body. He looked up and saw the pale, pained face of his friend. Shaking, muscular arms clung desperately to his clothing. The older man was too weak to lift him fully out of the water but it was enough. With Gilbert holding him just above the water's surface, Matthew was able to drag them towards a tree poking out at an angle from the bank. He grabbed it with both arms and wrapped his legs around. Using his legs to keep his place he wrapped the rope around the thin tree several times and tied it in place. When he was certain it was secure he clambered out of the water and threw himself down onto the bank, crying. His heart and lungs burned with activity and he began to vomit up some of the copious amounts of water he had swallowed.

"Mat-thew!" An injured Gilbert was trying to make his way out of the raft but he was shaking badly and couldn't appear to stand properly. The younger man got up and ran to him, helping him get to land gently. "There's a first aid pack on the side," He held up a shaky finger pointing to the raft. Matthew understood and ran to it, seeing it tied to the inside wall of the raft. He brought it back and sat behind Gilbert on the sandy bank. "We're going to need to pull that in after, you can use the top to collect water. Plus we can sleep under it if we flip it upside down." Matthew swallowed hard, the reality of their situation finally beginning to dawn.

"We're really stuck out here..." Gilbert nodded but didn't say anything. "Do you think there are people around?" He looked around them. Ahead was the river, wide and strong, and on the other side a small bank that went into trees. The same behind them, trees. Towards the bank they were grouped thinly, foliage growing in abundance, but they thickened as the forest got deeper. Huge 30 ft trees with giant leaves that blocked the sun. Looking into the rainforest was pointless as it was just darkness.

"I don't know. Let's assume not." His words were quiet and suddenly the Canadian remembered how badly his friend was hurt.

"Quick, you need to take your top off!" It was reassuring that Gilbert laughed lewdly at that, turning to wink at Matthew with a pained grimace.

The younger man tried to help as much as he could, but it was hard. The dried blood caused his shirt to cling to the wound, and as gentle as the Canadian was it was impossible to pull it free without hurting the older man. He knew if he ripped it off like a bandaid it would reopen the wound and be a horrible ordeal for his friend, and so he had to gently pick it off piece by piece. Eventually they could pull it over his head and the blonde could see the full extent of the gouge. It ran from shoulder-blade to shoulder-blade. It was lighter at each edge but the centre was deep enough that Matthew could probably fit up to his first finger joint inside. He didn't test that theory. There were several chunks of plane still stuck inside that needed to be removed.

&How bad is it?& He sounded apprehensive, almost scared.

&It's not that bad at all...& The German shook his head, he could always tell when his friend was lying.

"I'm really sorry Gil' but this is really gonna hurt." Gilbert inhaled deeply through his nose and nodded, signalling that he was ready. Matthew wished he had some tweezers or something, the best he could find was some antiseptic liquid in a small bottle in the medical kit. He rubbed some into his hands and carefully began pulling the shards free. Luckily they were close to the surface and came away easily, but each time he pulled on one his friend would let out a little whimper that made his stomach churn. In reality it took no time at all, but it felt like eternity. When he was finally done Matthew wrapped his arms around his friends middle, carefully avoiding his injury with the awkward hug. "I'm sorry."

The silver-haired man rubbed his friend's arms. "Thank you, help me bandage it too? I can see it being a real pain in my ass to try do it alone." Matthew laughed and pulled away, wiping away tears he hadn't realised he had spilt. He felt a little less embarrassed seeing that Gilbert was wiping away tears too.