Once he had traded for the items he felt were necessary, he pulled his pack close and began to make his way over to the large building to the far side of the complex. It was a huge building, although some of the areas looked to be collapsed, but upon entering he found that a pub-type area had been set up in the main area. He looked around for a bit, and then spotted Mathias leaning on the makeshift bar table, talking to the man standing behind it.

He briefly considered just leaving, but it was starting to darken, and the nights were unforgivingly cold. Mathias spotted him as the person behind the bar hurried away, and then grinned widely at him.

"Hey-ya Swede!" he cheered, patting the stool beside him.

Berwald nodded his head to him as he walked over and sat, setting his pack down by his feet, nearly feeling the urge to smile.

"You look like you could use a drink," he smiled at him, and then spoke loudly. "Hey! Tino! Two beers over here!"

Berwald's eyebrow twitched. He hadn't even seen beer since before the end of the war.

"It's home brewed, so it's a little funny," Mathias cautioned as he leaned over the table to stare at him more directly. "But, it's not so bad once you get used to it."

While they waited on the only person who seemed to be working in the makeshift bar, they discussed growing crops in this awful climate and soil, but how successful they had been because of the mine that had once been here. Children were being born, though many older people had been sterilized due to radiation and other awful impacts of the war.

It was a strange thought…children being born who would never even know what the world had been like once before. They would never see a city, a glittering kingdom of steel and glass that their forefathers had built, and they would never see a forest, Berwald was starting to forget what they used to look like, even. No, they had less than nothing to leave for future generations.

Berwald had to take a moment to accept that.

"Sorry, here's your drinks," a soft, light voice suddenly spoke, pushing two old glasses in front of them, filled with a murky colored drink.

All of Berwald's attention was pulled away from his thoughts and lost on the mug when he looked at the one who had brought it.

He was younger, but not by too much. Still, so much more youth shone through his eyes. Bright with purity. It was almost too foreign to process. However, Berwald noticed that this eyes didn't look quite right. They were a strange sort of purple color, and the small, frail figure squinted while trying to cover it with a smile.

"Uh, hi, I don't think I know your name,"

Berwald was just staring at him like an idiot, but Mathias was quick enough to introduce them to each other.

"Tino, this is Berwald. He just got here." He smiled and clapped his shoulder again.

"Oh!" the shorter man said before adorably squinting harder. "Do you mind if I get closer? I can't see very well,"

He grunted softly, but his breath froze up a bit when he leaned in close enough for Berwald to be able to smell him. He smelt clean. It made the Swede self-conscious.

His eyes widened a bit when he appeared able to take in the details of his appearance, but still, he smiled when he withdrew. "Well, it's very good to meet you, but those other guys are waiting on their drinks. See you around!"

Berwald nodded and watched him scamper off quickly, almost as though he were a timid animal that had been spooked.

"Ah, don't worry about Tino. He's just shy," Mathias assured him.

"What's wrong with his eyes?" Berwald inquired, thinking that he had never seen eyes that color before.

The Dane shrugged before taking a pull of his foamy beer. "I think he was born with it. It was happening for a little while. Mothers drinking contaminated water or something like that. It's not so common now that we've found a couple good wells here."

Berwald nodded solemnly. To be so blind in such a terrifying world…he could understand why Tino was so jumpy.

"He's not blind, totally," Mathias explained. "There's these thick, like, ripples in his eyes that distort where things are. So he can see, but he has a hard time unless he's pretty close to things."

A slow memory surfaced, of people being blinded. Berwald hadn't seen anyone that had been effected, but they said that anyone who wasn't far enough away from the explosions in the south would go blind. If they didn't get ripped to shreds first, obviously.

Another blond appeared behind the bar and Mathias immediately perked up.

"Hey, Luke! Luke! Come meet the new guy!" he called excitedly, replacing his hand on Berwald's shoulder.

The touch was so familiar and so strange at the same time. Like a comrade; not someone he was with by choice, but someone he didn't really mind being stuck with. Whether or not he was actually stuck was another matter yet to be discussed, however. Berwald opted to ignore the hand and let the Dane do as he pleased for now.

The man finished fetching something out of a dented tin before he turned. He then handed the small foodthing to an unseen person below the counter. Berwald sat up a bit and spotted a small child, a toddler really, eagerly taking what appeared to be some kind of biscuit from the taller man's hand. This man was only slightly taller than Tino, but had a similar, slender build. His expression was uninterested and perhaps even slightly annoyed, but he approached them and examined Berwald with unnerving attention.

"This is Lukas," Mathias introduced him first. "He's from Norway. And that's Emil, his little brother."

He studied him for a moment before he spoke suddenly. "This the guy who shot off Vash's finger?"

Berwald's eyebrows jerked up in surprise.

"Yep," Mathias snickered. "Sharp-shooting son-of-a-bitch. He's an old Swede, ya know."

Lukas squinted at him judgingly and he held his gaze as best he could. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

They both just stared at each other until he looked down and saw that Berwald hadn't drank any of his beer yet, and then he nudged it towards him.

"Come on then, Swede. Drink to your welcome."

The man seemed to be extremely wary of him, but Mathias appeared to be completely attentive to what he said, so Berwald decided it would be best to comply. He firmly grasped the handle of the large cup, and then brought it to his lips. It smelled strange, but honestly, he couldn't even remember what real beer smelt like anymore.

He took in a confident drink, and then immediately choked on it and nearly spit it out.

Mathias laughed loudly, and to his credit, the Norwegian, Lukas, did smile. Berwald's tongue was still recoiling in his mouth though, almost burning with the extreme bitterness of the drink.

"Ugh," he coughed, replacing the heavy cup on the table. "What the hell is that?"

They both just laughed a little more as Berwald wiped his mouth, rubbing his tongue on the roof of his mouth. Yuck.

Lukas then smiled and picked up the small child at his feet. The little boy looked at them shyly, and then curled up under Lukas' chin and held onto the collar of his shirt.

"I'm going to go give Emil a bath before bed," Lukas told Mathias, appearing to have accepted the Swede for the moment.

Mathias nodded and reached across the bar table, squeezing the toddler's little feet and shaking them, getting the little boy to squeal and kick with laughter. Berwald felt his heart warm at the simple innocence of it all.

They left and Mathias took another drink before turning back to Berwald. He made a face.

"How do you drink that?"

"You get used to it," he flashed a grin at him.

Berwald glanced back at his drink, and took it into his hands, but did little more than slide it around on the table for the next hour. They talked about the settlement, and they talked about the gangs. Berwald told him of the one he had seen ahead of him, and Mathias confirmed they had tried to pass through. Vash shot one of them, and they left.

Berwald felt a little guilty about his finger. Mathias warned him that Elizabeta wouldn't feel guilty at all for hitting him over the head.

When he asked what that was about, the Dane just shrugged and laughed.

"Hey, it's not crazy if it works."

Berwald shook his head, but he was enjoying their conversation.

It was so surreal, to suddenly be among people again. To speak with someone. To be touched. The Dane continually clapped his shoulder, grabbed his arm, and even threw an arm around his neck at one point. Berwald was too stiff to return any of the actions, but he couldn't help want to smile.

Friendly. That was the word. It had just been such a long time, he wasn't sure how to respond to something that wasn't trying to kill him for once.

At some point, Mathias yawned hugely, which caused Berwald to mirror.

The Dane grinned in sleepy amusement.

"Ya tired?"

Berwald didn't want to stop talking, but nodded. He was tired.

Mathias laughed and nodded, standing and urging him to follow. "Come on, I've got lots of places in here. You can come sleep up by me."

The Swede followed obediently, listening to Mathias ramble as they entered through a door off to the side and began to climb up some metal stairs.

"It's nicer up here, ya can't here so much going on below." He was telling him as they climbed.

The building indeed appeared to have once been some kind of mining operation, and was now the tallest building in the complex. They reached the upper levels and Mathias led them into a wide hallway with a few doors on either side.

"You can sleep here, if you want." He opened one of the doors for him. "I'll be on the floor above ya, if you need anything. Luke and Tino sleep up here too, so don't worry about it if you hear them come up later."

Berwald nodded and stepped into the room at Mathias' bidding. The Dane entered further and lit a candle to give him a little light. The room was small, but strangely cozy. It appeared to have once been some kind of office, but now it only contained a bed, a table with a large bowl on it, a towel beside that, and a nightstand by the bed where the candle stood.

He felt his shoulders relax for the first time in years. No windows to cover, no vents to worry about. Just a secure little room to sleep in. He hadn't been sure such a thing existed anymore. Mathias seemed to be eagerly waiting for feedback, so when Berwald sat down on the bed and then looked up at him in a mixture of gratitude and awe, he grinned widely.

"Thank you, Mathias," he said softly.

"'Course!" he laughed and smiled, sounding very pleased with himself as he walked towards the door.

Berwald felt the urge to roll his eyes and began to shrug off his jacket and tug his thick, long-sleeved shirt over his head. But Mathias paused in the doorway and turned back around.

The Swede suddenly felt a little exposed in his tight undershirt as those still-bright eyes blatantly traveled over his chest and exposed shoulders.

"You know," he said in a soft voice, something he hadn't even known the man capable of. "If you wanted, you really are more than welcome to stay here. We've got work you can do, but none of it is too hard. Everyone is really friendly here, and it's safe. We're really trying to rebuild, ya know? To try to start over, before all the old guys like us die off and there's no one that remembers how things were."

There was weight in his voice Berwald hadn't heard before, but it made a little more sense that he was in charge now. Heavy with responsibility, with a vision for the future.

"An' if you don't like it, you can always leave later. We won't force ya to do anything." Mathias shrugged, almost looking shy.

Berwald nodded to him, but didn't affirm or deny anything.

"Just, think on it, will ya?" he smiled a little more.

The Swede couldn't help but smile back, and nodded again. "I will."

"It'd be nice to have someone like you around," he perked back up, apparently satisfied, and winked at him as he looked over his body once more. "That's all I'm sayin'."

Berwald's ears grew hot and he grumbled, but the Dane finally left, shutting the door fully behind him. He listened to those heavy boots walk away down the hall, and then up the last flight of stairs before the blush fully faded. Again, feeling like a windstorm had just passed through the room, he took a moment to compose himself before Berwald got up the courage to tuck his things more purposefully under the bed.

A feeling of security flooded over him and he almost didn't know what to do with it. He sat back down on the bed and then pulled off his thin boots. He would have to look for some new ones tomorrow. As he kicked them off and set them together at the foot of his bed, he lied down and pulled the blankets over his body. It was strange.

Tonight, he would be able to sleep without his boots, without his long shirt, and probably even without his pants, though he couldn't quite bring himself to remove them. He was wrapped up under several blankets, lying above the cold ground on a warm mattress, and resting his head on a pillow. He had almost completely forgotten how wonderful it was to feel safe and warm and comfortable.

He eagerly pulled off his glasses, lying them on the nightstand before blowing out the candle and watching the room fade quickly to utter darkness. With that he lied back and shut his eyes. It was strange, to truly relax. To not fear that creatures would sniff him out in the night, nor worry that he would die of hypothermia in his sleep.

He hardly had any time to consider this, however, before he was completely unconscious.

When he awoke, he was in a state of panic. He couldn't remember where he was and he was blinded by the total darkness. As he tried to shift to see if he could spot any light, he realized he was on a bed, and the memories of the previous day came flooding back to him. Berwald fell back into the bed for a moment, contemplating reality.

He rested in the warm bed for a bit longer before he grabbed his glasses and redressed himself in the dark. He left his long shirt in his bag, and shrugged his jacket on, but didn't close it. He then gathered his things and walked to where he could see the outline of the door in white light. Berwald fumbled for the lock and then opened the door.

He was met with a high-pitched scream.

Berwald jerked back into the room with a cry of his own, nearly reaching for his gun before he realized he and Tino had scared each other by accident.

The shorter man was covering his mouth, giggling and gasping hysterically. "I'm…I'm so sorry, I didn't mean,"

Berwald held up his hand. "'S fine, didn't mean to scare you,"

They both shifted awkwardly, and then Tino smiled at him again. "Mathias wanted me to come get you for breakfast."

He smiled back and nodded, prepared to follow, but then the shorter man tilted his head towards his room.

"You can leave you stuff here, this is your room now. No one will mess with your things, Mathias will make sure of it." Tino grinned reassuringly. "Everyone is really nice here. We take care of each other."

Berwald hesitated. He hadn't separated himself from his weapon in years. It made him want to only cling to it tighter, but something about the soft, convincing tone in Tino's voice made him feel it would be a good idea to set his things down. To just walk around as he was, no weapons, no traveling gear. Like he intended to stay.

He grunted after a moment, leaving Tino at the doorway to set his things down on the bed before returning. The shorter man smiled sympathetically. Berwald wasn't sure how well he could see, but he obviously sensed how uncomfortable he now felt.

So, as they began back down towards the main area of the building, he tried to engage him in conversation. He was decidedly more difficult to talk with than the charismatic Dane, but he still smiled and urged him to speak. Berwald learned that he was a Finn, and informed him that Lukas had been born a Norwegian, and then gingerly added that Berwald thus completed the set.

Tino appeared to want him to stay, but Berwald wasn't certain why. New blood could always just be good in itself, maybe another strong laborer. The tall Swede wasn't as spry as he once was, but he was still completely muscle. A product of such a hard life. Tino spoke often of Mathias, almost as though he were urging Berwald to do something. He gave him things to ask him about, such as his collection of old guns that he kept in his room and some of the machines they worked, and so the Swede noticed that in the entire duration of their talk, Tino had said almost nothing about himself.

"How did you come to live here?"

"I came with Lukas and Emil. Mathias took us in and we all helped build this place. This is a really great place you know, everyone is really dedicated to taking care of each other. And Mathias keeps it all together, he really believes in recreating a society for more generations to grow up in."

"Oh."

They entered into the dining area, and spotted Mathias in the same place he had been last night. The Dane was leaned over the bar, speaking to someone and watching over the morning patrons. There were many people, men and women, and even a few children. No one appeared much older than Berwald and Mathias, but there were a few that seemed about their age. Everyone appeared to be eating before heading off to do some sort of work, and Berwald again suspected he was wanted for such labor.

Mathias saw Tino and him as they walked in and broke off his conversation to walk over to them. He smiled brightly, but then did something Berwald had not been expecting. He bent down and planted a light, intimate kiss on Tino's cheek. The small Finn blushed in front of Berwald, but beyond that didn't seem to bother with the kiss either way.

"I think they need some help in the kitchen," he said, and Tino nodded before moving around him to go behind the bar, calling when he entered the cooking area.

"So, how did you sleep?" Mathias asked him, a hand already resting on his shoulder, guiding him to sit beside him at the bar once more.

Berwald recovered as best he could, and then looked at him honestly. "I'd forgotten how nice it was to sleep in a bed,"

The man beside him grinned as if extremely pleased. "Well, I'm sure Tino told you already, but that room's yours if you want it,"

The offer was tempting, but he had to admit, he hadn't had time to give it much thought. He was so used to being alone, to wandering. Even before the war he hadn't had much to tie him anywhere. It was strange to think of this as a place he would wake up every morning.

Mathias seemed to be able to see the wheels turning in his head and was quick to postpone his deadline for a decision.

"Ah, but it's a lot to think about this early in the mornin', here, eat something first," he gestured as Tino reappeared with a couple of plates for each of them.

They ate and talked together, and eventually Mathias led him outside and took him on a tour of their complex.

He explained what each part of their community was for, and proudly displayed things like their greenhouse, fresh-water well, their various workplaces which included a small mine, several construction sites, storage buildings, something like a hospital, and so on. He talked endlessly as they went, occasionally pausing to speak to those around them.

The people were always immediately at attention when he called, which surprised Berwald. The man was charming, and he had heard the authority in his voice last night, but in his mind, they responded to him in a way solider might respond to a general of extremely high rank. Some even seemed almost nervous, updating him on their progress and quickly explaining any holdups as one might to a strict boss, despite how understanding and laid-back Mathias appeared to be about any situations.

They spent most of the day wandering and speaking about the site, and Mathias constantly questioned Berwald about his skills, abilities, and interests. He told him he had worked wood in his youth, and Mathias shook his head sadly.

"Most of that stuff just didn't survive. Almost everything we have to build with is metal or some crummy cement."

"Yeah, that's all that's left in the cities too," he grimaced.

Mathias perked back up and began to lead them through the market area of the city. "Well, that's why we do what we do. Tryin' to make up for some of what we lost. But hey, I noticed you were looking at boots the other day, why don't I help ya out?"

Before Berwald could even say anything, the man split off and went into a small hut-type stall, greeting the owner and exchanging a few quick words. The tall man wandered closer to the shop, but the owner had followed Mathias so he stood awkwardly outside, unsure and waiting. When that crazy blond hair reappeared, he was holding a pair of sturdy black boots in his hands.

"Here! Take a look at these!" he handed them to him excitedly.

He held them before he smiled. Exactly what he needed.

"What do I owe—"

"Nu-huh, no. They're a gift." He smiled and winked at him before patting his back and waving at the owner as they continued walking. "We take care of each other here."

More like a bribe, Berwald thought, but continued to smile.

The evening was spent trying to get the Swede accustomed to the homemade "beer" they had produced, but he only succeeded in drinking a less than half of a single glass.

Shit taste like burnt rubber.

Mathias laughed loud and warmly at this though, and Berwald was able to relax in a way he hadn't though he would ever be able to again.

When night fell, Mathias bid him a goodnight only after Berwald had assured him multiple times that he remembered where his room was. Then the Dane went into the kitchen, audibly trying to harass his staff for goodnight kisses.

Berwald rolled his eyes but went up to bed, both surprised and pleased to find that his belongings were just as he left them.

He lit the candle beside his bed before shutting the door, and then stripped down to his boxers and undershirt before sliding back into bed. Honestly, he had been looking forward to this all day. However, due to the lack of physical excretion, he found his body didn't ache nearly as much as he lied down.

In fact, he was so unaccustomed to it, that he found it was rather hard to fall asleep. He had a lot more to think about, after all. He had met many people today, when it had been so long since he had seen anyone. Not to mention he had a decision to make.

He could stay here, he supposed.

He could live with these people and help their small community grow. Berwald had never been a social person, but, he knew well that if he left now, it might be a far longer time before he found anyone else. It wasn't exactly an attractive idea to go off and die in the wastelands alone. They were kind, he hadn't got any alarming vibes so far. Everyone seemed like a community, but there were some people who appeared to be more solitary than others. Mathias had introduced him to a rather eerie man who worked alone in the greenhouse, a Russian with a thick accent who seemed to care less for company than Berwald did. He had welcomed them warmly initially, but nearly booted the Dane out after only a few moments of looking around.

The security of always having fresh water nearby was also very attractive, but it came with a particular type of fear. The same fear that came from those strong walls that guarded the town.

He had passed many new settlements since the wars, but almost always he passed remains. People destroy each other just as they always had, and the reality that they all now lived in only made things worse. Murdering for water and food made sense here, in this hellish world. And people turn on each other like animals when they feel they are in danger. Berwald avoided these new communes, villages, camps, and rebuilders because it always ended the same way; with blood in. the dust.

Aside from that, Berwald thought as he rolled onto his back, he had always been something of a loner even before everything changed. He didn't get on with people so well. And now he felt that he hardly qualified as human anymore. After everything he had seen, after everything he had done just to survive...

He almost couldn't stand to look at faces like Tino's and Emil's, he almost couldn't stand to believe there was still sweetness in the world, not when he had seen so much ugliness. A part of him wanted to stay for that very reason, to stay and help protect and rebuild a world for them, like Mathias said. But another part of him couldn't bare the thought of staying only to have everything fall apart, to have to watch their horrified faces when people snapped, like they always did, and tore each other limb from limb for the sake of scraps.

That was a driving force that kept him alone. He didn't want to rebuild. He didn't want things to go back to the way they had been before. Maybe they deserved what they got, humanity, but either way he wasn't about to try to pretend the world could ever go back to the way it was.

Before he was too long into his thoughts, however, he began to doze without realizing it and sleep dragged him down in a silent, safe darkness.