Content warning: human vs human conflict, SpAus puppy love
New challenger! Roderich!
Gooey Ashes
There wasn't much more to stall with, and the procrastination activities came to a halt as the group settled into meals of deconstructed burgers and smatterings of fries. None of them cared at that moment to mess with putting together the burger ingredients to make a solid sandwich. Antonio stared at his lap, fiddling with his insulin pump, then looked up, taking plastic utensils to dig into his meal-
Antonio blinked. Whatever he'd expected, it wasn't the sight of the other three staring at him. "What? I need insulin when I eat." He huffed, and Ludwig was the first to look away. "It's not weird or anything. It's perfectly normal."
"It's... I apologize," Ludwig said, turning his head down to stare down at his food. "It's not that. It's... I suppose...with all that's happened, it's something familiar. I promise, it won't happen again. Will it, Gilbert?"
Gilbert broke his blank stare, whipping his head around wildly. "Wha- hua? Oh, yeah, I agree." He paused, and scrunched his nose. "Wait, what am I agreeing with?"
Ludwig sighed. "It's nothing, Gilbert. Eat your...lunch."
Antonio frowned, and poked at his burger. Feliciano, he didn't mind so much, he'd gotten used to that kid's weird habit at staring at impeding train wrecks. He waved his plastic fork, breaking the Italian's stare, the younger turning to stare at the other two.
"What was it? C'mon, Lud, don't leave me hanging..."
"Eat, Gilbert."
Antonio quietly ate, watching the brothers squabble. He had cousins, but nothing as close as what played out before him. Francis fit in the role of brother with much more ease than anyone else.
Speaking of...
He hadn't seen the Frenchman since before this disaster. Francis was always right at the side of Gilbert and Antonio, providing balance and dynamic as they all did with each other. A third of the puzzle was missing without him. Empty space, meant to be filled with that nasally accent, instead now filled with the huffs and groans of Ludwig. Feliciano, tacked onto the edges, felt like an outcast, an unwelcome wheel that wasn't supposed to be there.
Antonio supposed he had to be glad Lovino wasn't complicating things. He could only guess at the emotions the Italian would display. Strings of swears, silence and gravitating toward Antonio's comfort, or that unnerving cutthroat attitude of wrestling control of everyone. An unpredictable ball of volatile. None of this day needed any more complications.
"Hey," he spoke up, interrupting both his thoughts and the bickering. "Did any of you have any contact with Francis?"
"Oh, yeah. He's fine, he's got some bomb shelter under his house or something." Gilbert jabbed an accusing knife at Antonio. "But you. I couldn't get a hold of you at all! Frannie and your mom said you were out, but what the hell, dude?"
"My phone died." Simple answer. "I forgot to charge it before going out. When did you talk to my mom?"
Gilbert ducked his head, staring at his own meal. "Before last night," he confessed, as if he'd made some mistake. "I didn't think to help her prepare. Sorry, we would've stayed, I really didn't think it would be this bad..."
"I'm sure she found some way to safety," Antonio assured him. Even though Gilbert had only been thinking of his closest friends, and nothing more than that small circle, and certainly had time to add another person to his list of persons to save, Antonio was not bitter. Nope. Not at all. "There has to be something the military set up. Everyone was going that way, she probably went that direction was well."
"You're optimistic," Ludwig noted with pleasant surprise.
He had to be. Hope spurred the revolutions of history. Antonio shrugged. "Well, yeah. It's my mom. I'm hoping for the best." Feliciano's eyes refocused, and he blinked a few times.
"What do you think happened to my grandfather?"
Antonio frowned. The boy needed an answer, but his voice wavered, as if he was unsure about if he should even be asking. He shook his head. "We can't answer that, Feli. Try not to think too much on it." Ludwig shot him a skeptical glance, but he returned it with another shake of his head. Feliciano didn't work well with that false type of reassurance. From how long he'd known the younger boy, Feliciano worked best with the adage of "out of sight, out of mind" for most problems.
Already, Feliciano seemed to accept that non-answer, returning to eating his food without argument. Gilbert and Ludwig exchanged uneasy glances with that route, and Gilbert shot him a look. Everyone loved Antonio. To others, he seemed to know exactly what to do and had the perfect (although some would say worst) timing.
Some would say he could play anyone like a fiddle. Antonio would decline to comment.
Their procrastination only lasted so long. Once ready to leave, but not to confront the horrors that waited outside of the shiny walls of the restaurant, they resumed their journey, trailing out onto the road again. It didn't take long at all for the four of them to focus on their feet, unwilling to see destruction.
"It's raining." Antonio stopped to turn his face to the sky, watching the blue hide behind dark clouds. A few drops speckled his face, mingling with the light sheen of sweat that had formed after the few hours under the sun.
Ludwig grunted, "Not much we can do about it. Keep walking." The blessing was mixed; a brief respite from the heat, but getting wet when they had few clothes to spare wasn't ideal.
Feliciano had other ideas, a bright grin on his face. Even being from a country known for its sun, the Italian could appreciate when something came to cool them off. "We don't have to die!" Antonio chuckled.
Gilbert frowned, stopping in his tracks. Ludwig stopped as well, giving a sigh. "Gilbert, it's just rain. What-"
"I hear a car."
Ludwig stopped. "A...car?" he asked slowly, not understanding. Antonio looked back, holding Feliciano's hand to keep him near.
Gilbert nodded, and looked around, peering down the ends of the road, around the scattered wrecks and abandoned cars. "Ja. One that's actually moving. Like I hear its engine and everything." He squinted into the sun, crawling up the sky. "Make that a bus."
"A bus?" Ludwig shook his head. "Gil, I think the sun is getting to you-"
"No, wait," Antonio said, hopping a bit as he stared in the same direction, trying to get a better look. "I see it, too. A yellow school bus, someone's driving it."
Skeptical, Ludwig squinted into the sun for a long moment, before taking his eyes away with a scowl, closing them shut. Just as he pressed his fingers against them, a rumble reached his ears. Civilization, a chance of salvation, in the form of an elementary school bus. They almost had no strength to raise their arms in wake of the heat and emotional exhaustion, but they managed, waving, Gilbert even jumping up and down. The yellow vehicle, covered in all its glory with dents and dark splatters on the wheels, slowed to a stop, and the doors opened.
Before they could rush aboard, saved at last, saved at last!, a chorus of shouts came from inside. Someone dashed to the front dashboard, and tore the crank back, slamming the doors shut. Ludwig found his smile fading, and Feliciano clung for support to his arm. Antonio and Gilbert were the ones to cling to the door, knocking on it, insisting that they weren't sick/zombies.
One of the windows opened, and a woman stuck her head out. She gave a cry before being yanked back inside, the window hurried to be shut. Antonio gasped. "Mamá!" He pulled at the doors with renewed strength, yelling, "That's my mama! My mom's in there, let us in!"
Antonio slipped into yelling in Spanish, his cries tearing into the air as hands beat against the painted metal. Sweat squeaked on the yellow. While his own ears grew deaf to the efforts of his friends, Antonio would give up nothing as long as that door separated him and his mother.
With a great creak, the plastic glass and metal shuddered under his hands. Antonio wouldn't step away. Hardly. His fingers pried at the edge of the rubber on the door, and pulled it open the rest of the way. A form tackled and pulled him close all at once. Spanish assurances filled his ear, making Antonio tremble, emotions washing over him, relief at the paramount.
Tired breaths echoed around him. With his friends, Antonio's mother ushered him aboard the bus, guiding him to an empty seat. She continued to hug him tight, her voice fading to a raspy whisper, stroking his hair.
Not that he didn't want to stay like that forever, but he had friends to watch out for. Classmates. Antonio squirmed out of her smothering choke hold after the bus had started its steady chugging along, and sat up properly. And almost jerked back.
Another teen stared back at him, suspicion poring from those sneering eyes behind a pair of glasses. He crossed his arms, looking for all the world like a spoiled child of wealth. The boy reminded him of Francis.
Ignoring him for the time being, Antonio leaned into the aisle, peering down to the front of the bus. A few scattered people slept, and he spotted Feliciano leaned against another girl his age, the two of them dozing off. Ludwig and Gilbert talked to someone who looked like an authority, the man dressed in military fatigues. They'd at least dropped those stuffed hiking backpacks for a moment. Glancing around the rest of the bus, not much-
That stare again.
That stern teen still had his eyes glued on Antonio. He raised his eyebrows at the other. "Uh, can I-"
"Roderich Edelstein."
The name came crisp and clear in the bus of battered and ragged. Antonio's eyebrows flew higher, before he smiled at the sign of goodwill. He thrust a hand forward. "Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, nice to meet you."
The other boy, Roderich, smiled, just barely there, a note of satisfaction to it. He took Antonio's hand, and dipped his head, his lips brushing the top of his hand. "Pleasure."
Antonio found himself blushing hot and at a loss for words. He brought his hand back, pressing it against his chest. "I- uh... I..." He giggled like a little girl, and he felt his mother's hand on his head again, threading her long nails through his curls. "I'm 18. You?"
Roderich blinked, apparently not having expected such a question, but his eyelashes fluttered to rest into place with that narrow stare. "I'm 17. I attend a prestigious school of music."
Antonio couldn't help but point out with a laugh, "You sound prestigious." The other teen scoffed, and rolled his eyes as Antonio continued, "I guess that's why I've never seen you at school. It's the public system all the way for me."
Roderich sniffed. "I can tell. Haven't you ever been taught decorum?" At Antonio's shake of the head, he huffed, "Figures."
"No, wait." Antonio shed his backpack, leaving it with his mother as he hopped across the aisle to sit next to Roderich. "Scoot over. Now, go on, tell me about decorum."
"I can't just-" Roderich cut himself off with another huff. "First lesson," he started, giving in. To Antonio's surprise but not disappointment, the boy leaned against his chest, taking hold of the Spaniard's arms to adjust them to hold him comfortably. "You can serve as my pillow. I couldn't get any measure of sleep with all that noise last night."
"I can do that." Antonio murmured, taking to his new task with delight. He looked up, and found Gilbert giving him a raised eyebrow from the front of the bus. He just beamed in response.
Author's Notes
Two updates in a month, wow. I thought I'd be late with updates for a while. After the last update, I was upset with not even one review, or a favorite, for it. It's disheartening, since I thought these chapters were a nice rest from all the action from the first night, and while it's not obvious character development, it's still there, just subtle.
Decided to try out Antonio's POV for a chapter (although it switched around with Lud's POV at times in drafts). It turned out interesting, but Ludwig's perplexed sardonic approach to everything is hilarious, so don't expect more narration from Antonio. On the other hand, SpAus is one of my loves, and I'm a fan of a vaguely manipulative Antonio.
The days, for now, will be hidden in where the action comes from. Night is more overt with the threats.
