Maybe its because he knows that Mathew is Alfred's brother, and despite himself, Peter trusts Alfred, but Peter relaxes, just the smallest bit, around Mathew. He's still tense and uneasy about their prison, about the tens of people all crowded into the basement together with him, and the door that hasn't opened yet, even though it's getting closer by the moment to afternoon.
Peter traces Mathew's form with his eyes, a body of toned muscles curled into itself, like Mathew was purposely trying to look weak and mild. Peter can tell that Mathew is just as strong as Alfred, if not stronger. It doesn't make sense how he got caught, not without a single obvious injury.
"Mathew, how did you get caught?"
Peter regrets his words immediately, and flinches subconsciously, expecting a blow that never comes. Questions aren't welcomed in Peter's world. Mathew falters. When he speaks again, he lowers his voice to the point it's almost inaudible, even as a whisper in Peter's ears, and Peter has to stay very still so he can hear.
"Actually, I got caught on purpose."
Peter jerks back, whipping his head up to stare down Mathew in disbelief. To do something so crazy, to endanger his life, for what? Mathew flushes a little at Peter's look, and tries to explain.
"We're trying to take down the Human trafficking ring." He admits the words in his barely audible whisper, "I got caught to lead my brother to the place, but somehow he lost sight of me."
Peter is frozen, trying to process it.
"Human traffickers?"
The words slip out in a tiny voice, but Peter is so bewildered he doesn't care. Human trafficking was common in the world after the apocalypse, where the only rules where made by the guy who used a gun the best. There was a thousand others like the ones who had captured them, and the only justice that could be dealt was death. Mathew misreads his expression and shrugs.
"It can't be helped. We can't just track them down because they could be anywhere, they just hide in underground whenever we get close. This was the only way."
Peter is beginning to understand what kind of people Alfred and Jet and Mathew are, and they're the type who should have died a long time ago. They're nice, and good. In Peter's opinion, those are the kind who died first. The only reason Peter can think that they survived despite that is that, like Alfred and Jet, Mathew is strong, much stronger than he looks. Peter thinks that Mathew is probably the kind of person who can pull the trigger without hesitation in a life or death situation. Peter also thinks that Mathew's the kind who won't pull out his gun until it gets to that point either.
It should be a scary fact, but Peter takes comfort in it instead. Mathew's kindness makes him weak to the weak, and Peter knows that he looks weak. In some ways, he is weak. And Mathew and Alfred are on the same side, And Alfred Has already taken Peter in. No matter how foolish or stupid his brain screams that his decision is, Peter feels like he can trust Mathew. Either way, he knows he wants Mathew on his side, not against him.
"Oh."
Peter wiggles back up against Mathew, pretending his skin doesn't crawl at how close they are. Mathew is silent for a moment, and Peter leans his back against Mathew, taking comfort in the feeling of his breathing, and the refreshing coolness of Matthew's skin, and pretending his heart isn't going a thousand beats a minute. After a moment, Mathew speaks to himself in a faint voice, and Peter knows Mathew doesn't expect him to hear.
"This wouldn't happen if not for the bunkers."
Peter doesn't understand what Mathew is saying, how their current captivity relates to the bunkers. Did their captors come from inside the bunkers? Peter knows some of them had come from the outside. They were the most dangerous. He hesitates. In the bunker, questions were never welcomed. No one could answer why, or how long, or how, and no one wanted to think about it. Peter was used to the sharp looks and misdirections the adults would give to those in the bunkers.
But a part of Peter is beginning to understand. The race known as "humans" had changed, and Peter had thought they were all gone. But then he'd met Alfred, and Jet, and now Mathew. Peter thinks that he was wrong, and maybe there are still "people" left. He thinks if he asks, Mathew might answer him, like Alfred answered all his questions. So Peter responds questioningly, but his courage won't allow for more than one word.
"Bunkers?"
Mathew shifts slightly, obviously startled that Peter heard, and Peter freezes, but Mathew only huffs a small laugh.
"You're probably too young to know, eh? It's okay, I'll tell you."
Peter knows that Mathew only thinks he's young because he doesn't know the truth, the secret Peter is hiding. Peter knows more than Mathew thinks, and a part of him wants to say that, but years of instincts and hiding don't go away that easily. So Peter stays quiet as Mathew explains.
"It started with the weather. There was something wrong with the rain, it was-" Mathew struggled, then rephrased his words, probably to make sense to a child, "the rain was bad. If you touched it, you'd get sick. But most animals and plants weren't affected. The problem was that the rain soaked into the ground and the plants absorbed it, so people kept getting sick, and were dying at a really fast pace."
Peter thinks he remembers hearing about this on the telly, a long time ago. Stay in, out of the rain. Don't go near lakes or water sources. Filter your water. If you're sick, report it immediately. Peter also remembers what happened next. Barely a year after the sicknesses started, celebrities started to disappear to "safe places". Then other important people. He thinks that his mama had complained about it, but Peter can't remember for sure. Then-
"So they built bunkers, all over the world, wherever they could."
Mathew continued, sounding weary, and Peter's heart pounds at the words.
"But the bunkers were made too fast, too quickly. They didn't keep a proper record, not with the panic and the world going to shit. They didn't have proper communication between them either."
Something about Matthew's voice sounds heartbroken, and Peter feels like something in him is breaking too. Peter is beginning to understand why Alfred and Jet are so weird, why they think he's strange. Why they said the outside was safe and were so surprised to see him. Mathew confirmed his suspicions.
"And when it was over, not all the bunkers were found and opened. Some of them-"
Mathew cuts off, and Peter knows it's his fault. He's sobbing, choking and struggling to breathe, finally understanding what he'd been too afraid to entertain the idea of before. The reasons that no one who left came back. The reason the power went out, the way Alfred and Jet had real, fresh food. Mathew seems panicked, not expecting the extreme response, and tried to gather Peter into his arms. Part of Peter wants to resist and fight, a part of him still screams that its not safe, he can't trust them that it will end with him hurting and in pain, but Peter is already hurting inside, and he's tired of being scared. He's tired, and sad, and overwhelmed, and he misses Alfred, so he clings to Mathew like he's never letting go.
Flustered, Mathew pats his back and tries to comfort Peter, but his words don't bring Peter any comfort at all.
"It's alright," Mathew soothes, "after all, that's been over for almost a hundred years now."
Peter thinks he might suffocate on his own sobs and die.
