-Antonio-
The entire van fell silent as the words passed through Matthew's lips. Antonio felt it best he speak up before Lovino flew into an irrational rage. He glanced over at his Italian companion seeing him ready to burst with anger, Antonio spoke.
"Asi no es que algo~ Why didn't you tell us before…?" for the life of him Antonio couldn't remember the strangers name. He dismissed it though, because forgetting things was in his nature. He still felt rude none the less for not knowing his name.
"Matthew. My name's Matthew." Matthew twisted around in his seat to get a better look at the other passengers.
"So, why didn't you tell us before Matthew?" asked Antonio once again, unsatisfied that only one question had been answered.
"I didn't trust any of you, but now I see this as an opportunity. I have information you need; you have the means to get me there." He'd turned back around and now was talking to the windshield.
At first it made no sense to Antonio, then he understood. Ever since the infections began people lied about their being infected, they lied about their infection and that was how the last safe havens had fallen. People lied because they didn't want others to know.
"The 'sanctuary' is in the US. I know which state, but I don't know where. It'll probably have to be somewhere they can depend on the land, reducing the chance of trips out for supply, thus reducing the number of the infected." The windshield held a reflection of determined cold violet eyes. Antonio held his breath, thinking about all the states he knew. He glanced over at Lovino, who'd been sitting surprisingly quiet.
"Which state then?" asked Gilbert up front, Antonio noticed him glance several times at Matthew throughout the duration of their, companion ship? Could it be called friendship? No, it couldn't be called that. Antonio wasn't sure they even had anything with the young stranger.
'Convenience, that's what we have with him. He has the convenience of information whereas we have the convenience of transportation. Whether any of us like it or not, we're stuck together.' These thoughts played across Antonio's mind, they danced across his vision accompanied by blood. So much blood, somehow he found himself thinking back. Thinking back to the day this all went wrong.
He'd been walking with Lovino, they'd been heading back to the van the six had been living in since they sought refuge in Canada. Groceries in hand the two were talking, and wondering if the people back home had found refuge. When they'd left there were rumors of a sanctuary in Poland, England, and in Germany.
They were speculating if their little brothers had survived as they neared the van.
"There is no way that sweet little Feliciano would go around chopping these things heads off. No way at fucking all, do you hear me? No way." Lovino was arguing with Antonio if Feliciano, his little brother, was still alive.
"You never know Lovi. Near death situations change people, especially people as sweet and bubbly as Feliciano." Antonio sent a kind smile to the back of Lovino's head, trying to ease the worried look in his eyes as he got into the van. Antonio looked around and was disappointed to see that two of their friends weren't there.
"Where're Gilbert and Elizaveta?" his eyes searched Francis', but Francis simply stared at him. He was too mesmerized in the feel of the Englishman asleep against his shoulder.
"They started to fight again, then Liz just stormed out of the van. Gilbert went after her." A voice with an English lilt responded sleepily. Antonio did nothing more than put the groceries away, and make sure they had enough money to buy some dinner that night.
"-I'll need a map of the US, so I can tell where we're headed…we should probably stop somewhere for the night." The voice leaked through Antonio's memories, and brought him back to the present. Away from his daydreams of times simpler, of times before Canada's fences broke and everyone believed they were safe, from that peaceful world, to the cold harsh reality that his life had become since the infections started. A reality of killing and killing, just so he could survive another day.
-Gilbert-
They drove a couple more hours before everyone dropped off, after stopping at another gas station and getting a road map of course. Francis leaned his head against the window, muttering something about eyebrows, he was missing Arthur. Lovino was leaning against Antonio, the Spaniard had on the happiest face ever. Gilbert would glance over from time to time to look at Matthew, to study the bridge of his nose for a few seconds. Watch the way his fringe moved as he breathed out in his sleep, how his eyelashes fluttered over his cheeks.
Gilbert glanced over at around 12:30 am and was startled to see Matthew looking right back at him. Ruby catching violet, before ruby had to correct the car from going off the road and into the woods. Violet chuckled, Gilbert gulped.
"So Matthew where're we going exactly?" asked Gilbert without straying his ruby red eyes from the road. He heard the rustle of paper as Matthew consulted the map they'd managed to scrounge up around sunset.
"Take a right here, and in another day we'll be at the border." Gilbert didn't like the way Matthew talked as if automatically. As if he wasn't human merely a machine, a machine made to kill Them.
Gilbert chanced a glance. Tearing his eyes away from the darkened road, he looked over to see Matthew concentrated on the map. Brows scrunched, a frown pulling his lips down. He seemed to be constantly pushing his hair out of his lavender eyes, adjusting his round wire framed glasses.
"So Matthew, why don't you tell me something about yourself?" Gilbert was tired of guessing at who Matthew was. He wanted to know something about the blondes past, about how he knew what he knew.
"Like twenty questions?" his voiced sounded reluctant
"Yeah! Lets start, where're you from?" he could feel his palms getting sweaty from nerves at what he planned to find out. It was underhanded and sneaky in some ways, but who knew when he'd get a chance to find out more about the mysterious young man.
"Ottawa, Canada. Nineteen more questions to go." The blonde had answered rather sarcastically.
"Okay… Do you have any siblings? What're their names? How many?"
"Yes. Alfred. One sibling, my half brother. Sixteen questions left"
"Parent's names? When's your birthday?"
" I don't remember. July 3rd. Fourteen more questions."
Gilbert let himself think for a moment, trying to think how he'd word the question that had been tugging at him since they rescued him. Matthew resumed looking out of the windshield.
"How did you get to that place where we found you?"
"Pass"
"No you can't pass such an important question!"
"Pass."
"C'mon, I think I have a right to-"
"A right?! A right to ask me questions that I don't want to answer? Are you fucking kidding me?!" the blonde's outburst startled Gilbert and the van swerved slightly on the abandoned road, Matthew's voice was beginning to rise from anger (though Gilbert had no idea why), "I said pass, because obviously I don't want to answer that question! What the fuck makes you think I would answer that?!"
Someone began to stir in the back. Matthew clamped his mouth shut and froze. Gilbert pouted to the road ahead. Mumbles were heard, than more contented sleeping breathing. Followed by an exasperated one.
"I'm sorry." the apology wasn't anticipated on Gilbert's part. He glanced at Matthew, ruby eyes wide, then quickly turned his attention back to the road ahead of them.
"What?"
"I said I'm sorry. Now shut up and drive…" Gilbert chanced a glance at Matthews' evidently embarrassed profile. He was met by the image of a dusting of pink on a normally pale face, violet eye downcast causing long eyelashes to become even more distinct. His wavy long fringe was pushed behind his left ear. Lips pulled together in an obvious attempt at trying to hold back a smile.
"I should be the one apologizing not you."
"You're making it exceedingly difficult to take this seriously."
"Take what seriously? I see nothing to be serious about, all I see is a Frenchman who'sclothes still look to nice to have gone through a bunch of 'Them'. An irritable Italian, and a happy-go-lucky Spaniard."
"What about you?"
The question caught Gilbert of guard. Startled scarlet looked at violet filled with myrth.
"What do you mean?"
"What do you see when you look at yourself?"
Gilbert blinked, wide eyed, at the forwardness and unexpectedness of the question. The man actually was genuinely interested in Gilberts insecurities, really?
"Nothing much, just some guy with a birth defect-"
"Is that how you see it?"
"See what?"
"Your skin, and hair, and…eyes…" Matthew trailed off and began staring at him. Gilbert looked over at him in time to see a blush spread across his cheeks. Gilbert smiled, in this small moment it would've been easy to forget what had happened to the world outside the van. To simply drive, and drive. With nothing in mind but Matthew.
The thought of this was disturbing of course, how could he get so attached to someone within a 24 hour period?
-Matthew-
He watched as the trees surrounding them cleared, and he saw the skeleton of a black fence in the distant. They were a good 50 miles from it; that was just how tall the government had built it.
He studied the sun slipping across the horizon, sky going from pitch black to pink a matter of moments. He observed the clouds, and the shadows cast from the light radiated from millions of miles away.
A sunbeam fell on Francis' face and he stirred. Groaning, and mumbling about French breakfasts and beds so soft it was like clouds.
Matthew felt the ghost of a smile pass across his face.
"Morning sleeping beauties! We're at the border, now where do we go Matt?" Gilberts voice rang though the van of awakening people from the bliss of sleep to the cold harshness of their reality.
"South. Keep going to south, I only have an idea of where this place is okay."
"South…"
"Yep. South."
If they went south Matthew was sure he'd be able to get their bearings and find his way to where ever his brother was.