Chapter Eight

Matthew was tired. He was constantly in and out of sleep. He wasn't sure how long it had been since they took Prussia. His stomach rumbled reminding him of his hunger. He groaned turning over trying to ignore it. It wasn't working too well. Without coffee to distract him he'd start to feel it more and more.

Canada was mostly asleep when he heard a knock. He ignored it hoping they'd go away. There was a louder knock and he growled opening his eyes. He didn't immediately recognize his surroundings. He groggily rubbed his eyes looking around. He sighed remembering where he was. He heard a knock again and sat up. He got up and ran a hand through his hair. He walked over to the window where Harley was waiting.

"Good morning, Blackbird." The Dove greeted. He just grunted as a response. "Not much of a morning person, noted." He sighed with a small smile. "Are you hungry?"

"No." The Canadian lied. He didn't want them to know how hungry he really was.

"When was your last meal?" Harley asked. Matthew took a moment to think about it.

"About six months? I can't remember exactly." Blackbird shrugged.

"Thought so. That's when we place your last hit." The investigator said. "How do you go that long between meals? Don't you typically need a body a month?"

"I don't." Matthew shrugged. His hunger was at the forefront of his mind now that it was mentioned. "I don't like to eat unless they're a criminal or something. I'm pretty picky."

"I respect you, Blackbird." The Dove said. Canada raised an eyebrow. "I don't like ghouls, but you're different. You only kill other ghouls and criminals. It's more honourable than other ghouls." Harley sighed. "Anyways, let's get down to business. What is your name?"

"Matthew Williams." Canada answered honestly.

"That sounds fake." The Dove said.

"I know." Matthew smiled. "But that's really what it is."

"Alright." Harley hummed and wrote it down. "Date of birth and place?"

"I didn't lie yesterday." Blackbird said crossing his arms. "July first."

"What year? How old are you?" The investigator asked.

"I don't know what year." Matthew shrugged. He was going to tell the truth, but he doubted Harley would believe him. "I'm about four hundredish."

"Okay." The Dove laughed rolling his eyes. "But really, how old are you?"

"Twenty-three." Matthew sighed. He knew he'd have to make up a lie. He'd have to remember and stick too it.

"Right, that's better." Harley mumbled writing it down. "Where?"

"I really don't know where. I know it was in Canada, but past that, I have no idea." Matthew explained. The Dove nodded and wrote his answers down.

"Who do you work for?" Harley asked. "The Canadian government?"

"Would the Canadian CCG have an open case on me if I worked for the government?" Canada asked raising an eyebrow.

"Never know. Could be a cover up." The investigator said with a shrug. "So?"

"I don't work for the government." Matthew sighed. "I don't work for anyone really."

"You do everything by yourself?" Harley asked skeptically.

"No, I have some help here and there." Blackbird said. He already knew the investigator's next question. "And no, I won't give you their names."

"Right." Harley mumbled. He didn't seem to want to push him about the other ghouls. He could tell Harley was treading lightly. He probably didn't want to anger or upset him. He wouldn't get information from him if he was in a bad mood. "How many Blackbird's are there?"

"One, just me." Canada answered.

"How long have you been the current Red-winged Blackbird?" The investigator asked curiously. "Who was before you?"

"Uhh... about ten years." Canada lied. "My Mother was before me."

"Since you were fourteen then?" Harley mumbled. Matthew knew he was trying to catch him in a lie. "That's pretty young."

"I was around thirteen, yeah." The Canadian shrugged. He was committing his lies to memory.

"Hmmm, right. Thirteen." Harley muttered. He went over and grabbed the chair. He sat the same way as the day before. "Your Mother was the Blackbird before you? Thought you didn't have parents."

"Everyone has parents. I didn't know mine well." Canada explained scratching the back of his neck. He really wanted to sit and rest as well, but he didn't have a chair. He could sit on the floor, but it would be awkward to speak with the Dove. "Barely saw them. They were almost never around."

"Guess that makes sense." Harley sighed. "Is It a family thing? Is the title passed down?"

"Pretty much." Matthew said simply. He'd let the investigator come to his own conclusions.

"Is your mother still alive?" The Dove asked meeting his eyes.

"No." Canada shook his head. "Neither parent is."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Harley said. He sounded genuine. The Canadian wasn't sure how to respond. They were quiet for a moment. "Your brother, Alfred, is he like you too? Similar kagune?"

"Not really. He's a ghoul, but he sucks at most things ghoul." Matthew lied. He knew the American wasn't a ghoul. Alfred's deep-rooted hatred and scent was enough to know.

"Why did you give up the only family you had left so quickly?" The investigator asked.

The Canadian growled wrinkling his nose. "Let's just say, we don't get along."

"Territorial thing?" Harley asked. Matthew shook his head not willing to go into detail. The Dove sighed and closed his notebook. "Good, that's all for today. I'll let you rest. Do you want anything? Coffee?"

"That would be nice." Matthew said. He was a bit confused by the kindness, but decided to push his luck. "A book too would be great."

"I'll see what I can find for you." Harley said with a small smile standing up.

"Thank you." Canada said gratefully.

—-❄️" Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony."❄️—-

Matthew yawned as he turned the page in the book he'd been given. He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, but he was guessing roughly a few days. His wounds had mostly healed, but a few had reopened. The suppressants were still affecting him a lot and he was healing as slowly as a human.

Harley had been in and out quite a few times, he'd lost count. It was always him, never anyone else. He asked him about different hits and where bodies were. He answered what he could remember. A few of the people he asked about weren't killed by him. The investigator always brought him a coffee and book. Canada was grateful, but confused by the kindness. American ghoul prisons weren't exactly known for being any level of humane.

The Canadian groaned shifting trying to get comfortable. There wasn't any furniture in the cell, not even a cot. The floor was hard and uncomfortable. He sighed and closed his book. He set it aside and laid down. He was tired all the time and had no energy thanks to the suppressants. He couldn't wait until his body started to build up resistance to them.

Matthew sighed curling up on his side. He missed having Gilbert to sleep next to and cuddle. His scent always made him feel safe and get to sleep a lot easier. Without him, it was more difficult. He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep. He finally managed too, but didn't hear the cell door slide open quietly and footsteps coming towards him.