Camping in the Cold

      Gilbert panted as he ascended the slope. How on earth had he let Matthew convince him to do this? Sure, it'd been fairly warm the last few days, but that was no reason to drag him out into the Canadian winter for a camping trip. I swear sometimes, the guy's obsessed with the outdoors. Sometimes I think he should just move to the United States. There's plenty of warmth there. "Maaaatt, when are we gonna stop and rest? It's getting colder.. And cloudy.." Now that he thought of it, the temperature had started dropping in the last half hour and they'd gone from sun glaring off the snow to the bleak white making up both the ground and the sky. In fact, he was pretty positive he'd seen a few flakes in the last few minutes. 

         "Don't worry about it, we'll stop soon. I just want to get to that ledge." Matthew motioned up towards the location he was talking about. The slope went up quite a bit more before turning right and curving around the mountain. A little after the curve there was a ledge that jutted out pretty far, almost as if part of the mountain had been cut off, making room for the path to continue as well as a forest. Gilbert shivered. It really was getting cold now, and the flakes were starting to fall at a faster rate. "Mattheeew," he whined. The Canadian chuckled. "Almost there. A little ways into the forest on that ledge is a good place to set up camp." The cold albino sighed. "Fine.." 

             Within a few minutes, it'd really started snowing. "Camping.. Incredible idea, Matt," he grumbled rather loudly. No answer. He'd been staring at the ground to avoid the sharp white flakes stinging his eyes. Gilbert lifted his head in confusion to find that the gentle snowflakes had transformed into a full-blown blizzard. Great. Just great. He couldn't say he was surprised, at the fact that there was suddenly a blizzard or the fact that he wasn't overreacting. If he knew Matthew, he was sure to soon be found, considering that this had probably happened to the incredibly outdoorsy Canadian before. His best bet was probably just to sit tight and wait to be found.

Scratch that, it was cold and he was bored and hungry. 

Too bad Mattie's got our lunch and our breakfast for tomorrow.. And the damn tent.. I had to say I wouldn't carry anything, he thought as he stood back up, beginning to pace back and forth. Sure Matthew was a fan of being outside and was experienced with it, but it really wasn't Gilbert's style. In fact, he stayed inside if he could. Only Matthew could get him out into the so-called 'great outdoors.' So it was no surprise that he had absolutely no idea what to do in this situation. "Matt, when we get home I'm hiding you're gonna have to make this up to me.." Great, now I'm talking to my-

Suddenly there was an enormous crashing sound. Gilbert immediately tensed up, jumping and taking a defensive stance. "Matthew? Hello? Anyone?" The albino tested. Nothing.. But is that.. There was another crash. This one was much smaller than the first, but that wasn't what caught Gilbert's attention. What caught his attention, the thing that made him grow ever more tense, that turned his blood to ice, was the fact that the noise was followed by a cry of pain. 

            Gilbert honestly couldn't see much at that moment. In fact, you could say he could see nothing at all, considering the fact that his vision was being hindered by the unending snowfall and he already had naturally bad eyesight. But that yell.. It was in a painfully familiar voice, one that he'd been listening to for years. A voice that rarely rose above a whisper, even when he was 'yelling.' A calming voice that comforted his worst nightmares, helped him rebuild his confidence in the rare event that it failed, tinged with a strong Canadian accent that made it obvious where the male was from. The voice belonged to Matthew, and that was why, seconds later, he launched himself blindly into the snow. "Matt! Matthew! Answer me!" There.. A blurry shape on the ground.. Gilbert collapsed knee-first onto the ground, hands flying out to brace himself and wincing when the almost hardened snow stung his hands. In front of him Matthew was laying on the ground, arms crossed underneath his chest, and a mass of rubble had landed on his right leg. His face, typically holding that adorable smile, was contorted in pain, teeth gritted to prevent himself from crying out again. "Matthew!" Gilbert exclaimed again, his own teeth beginning to chatter due to the cold. 

        He was only answered by a pained grunt, but that was enough to tell him that Matthew was alive and conscious, and that was all he needed. "Matt, I'll get you out of here, alright?" The words were more to convince himself, but he was glad to notice that Matthew strainedly nodded his head at the promise. The task itself, however, was proving to be more easily said than done. It took at least 15 minutes for Gilbert to move away the bulk of the rubble, and only then could he pull Matthew out from under it. He winced when he heard Matthew gasp in pain from the remaining rocks shifting as his leg moved out from under it. "C-come on Matt, we just g-gotta get you somewhere we can t-take shelter until this stupid unawesome storm b-blows over." 

         Gilbert slowly began hauling Matthew up the hill, both because he was stiffening because of the cold and because he didn't want to further injure the Canadian who was already quickly bleeding out into the snow. Let's see.. Last I know we were at least fifteen miles away from, well, anything.. It looks like Matthew lost the pack in that avalanche.. I don't have anything.. Do we just take cover and wait to be found? He glanced down at Matthew, who was almost fully concious. I guess so. Maybe I'll ask him. Suddenly he gasped. "Hey, Mattie! Look, a little l-ledge over there, it's p-poking out of the mountain and we c-can shelter under it!" He was only rewarded by a weak, almost forced smile, but it pleased him to see the Canadian was at least reacting. 

           By the time they made it under the ridge, Matthew was fully conscious, replying through his pain. He's always been really strong about stupid stuff like this. "Ok-kay, Matthew," Gilbert started through chattering teeth as he scooted both of then back up against the wall of rock. "T-there's patrol guys out here, right? As s-soon as this storm b-blows over, they'll find us and we'll be p-perfectly fine.." The odds didn't seem to point to much chance of both of them getting out alive. Matthew's leg was already slowly staining the snow around him with bright red liquid, and Gilbert was beginning to lose feeling in his fingers and toes. "Yeah, s-sure. Not to be a burden or anything, but could you perhaps wrap.. Wrap this?" Gilbert winced. Matthew was breaking off mid-sentence because of the pain. He shouldn't complain. 

         "S-sure. What can I.." He thought about it for only a few seconds before pulling off his coat- it was more of a thick jacket, really. "G-Gil, you need that to stay warm. Y-you can't-" 

          "I'm not-t Not in the j-jacket, at least. I'm gonna use m-my shirt. Idiot." He meant the term affectionately, actually smiling as he pulled his short-sleeved navy blue t-shut off. The German inhaled sharply as the cold air hit his skin. It's bad enough in the jacket.. Admittedly, neither of them were all too prepared for the sudden change in the weather, but there wasn't much they could do. He quickly shrugged his jacket back onto his shoulders and got to work on Matthew's leg.

           For the third time that evening, Gilbert winced. The wound was worse than he'd originally thought. He'd pulled Matthew's boot off and pushed the pant leg up to reveal a ragged, wide and deep cut that stained the paled skin around it red, as well as Matthew's clothing. Due to the stiffness of his fingers, Gilbert wasn't actually able to rip his shirt to wrap it properly, but this would have to work. He wrapped Matthew's injured leg until the shirt was tight before messily tying it off and collapsing back against the rock with a sigh. He couldn't very well shove Matthew's boot back onto his foot without hurting him, but he'd at least been able to pull his pant leg back down over the half exposed skin. He's gonna get some serious frostbite or something in that foot.. "Matt? You s-still conscious?" He'd suddenly gotten a great idea. "Yeah.. What is i-it?" Gilbert promptly curled his knees up towards his chest and  scooted up against Matthew. "Body heat." What? It was an excuse to get close to him as well as maybe keep them warm. He felt at least a little warmer with another person pushed up against him. Matthew answered with a silent nod, snuggling into Gilbert's chest with his foot stuck out at an awkward angle despite the fact that Matthew was taller. Gilbert was content to curl his arm around the other male's shoulders, pulling him closer like some sort of teddy bear.

             For at least fifteen minutes they stayed like that, huddled against each other. Gilbert murmured encouragement when Matthew would wince as a sharp needle of pain shot through his leg, and Matthew in turn comforted him when he hissed from the cold. "It's really s-surprising how q-quickly it got c-cold," Gilbert sighed. "I know.. It was s-supposed to be warm all day." 

"Weather reporters are w-wrong a lot."

       That was followed by more silence broken only by the exchanges comforting words. Within another half hour, Gilbert was pretty sure he was becoming delusional. 

"Ey Mattie.. I-is that Al? Y-you think he c-came out here to g-get us?"

"No.. That's a tree, G-Gil. But that might be A-Al."

"That's a r-rock."

"Isn't Alf-fred on vacation right now?"

"O-oh. Right."

  

Another fifteen minutes passed. The need to comfort each other was getting even more frequent. Gilbert gritted his teeth in constant pain from the cold, not very well able to move his fingers any more, and the cold wasn't doing wonders for Matthew's leg which had already soaked through Gilbert's crude wrapping. Maybe he should've kept moving, but he was definitely not leaving Matthew there by himself, and so Gilbert may as well have been just as disabled as Matthew in this situation. "Matt, we'll be fine," he assured the Canadian as Matthew attempted to shift his position and only managed to cause a wave of pain to roll up from his leg to the rest of his body. He was now positive the limb was broken. Distraction.. "Gil? What do you want to do when we get home?"

Gil opened his eyes in surprise. He'd closed them a while before to keep away the stinging cold of the snow, but was partially pleased to realize the storm had ended a while ago. The evening had plunged into darkness, though, and left them frigidly cold with a sea of stars to look up into. 

"Well, for s-starters, you're g-gonna have to pay me b-back for making me go c-camping," he smirked with chapped lips, only half joking. 

"Well, how do you expect me to.. To do that?"

"You know."

"... Oh. Well, I can promise I'll pay you back then. I want.. T-to eat pancakes."

"Y-you always want pancakes."

"Pancakes are p-perfect. Also.. Warm."

"I want hot ch-chocolate and c-coffee and blankets."

"And to c-cuddle in front of the fireplace?"

"Mmhmm."

"Seems f-fair."

They chatted back and forth about what they'd do when they arrived home for another fifteen minutes. It was pleasant conversation, really, even if both of them occasionally trailed off, forgetting what they were saying, or even fell asleep for a few seconds before being shocked awake by the other's voice. They didn't even have to comfort each other any more. It'd been long enough that Gilbert was too numb to feel cold at all and Matthew couldn't feel the pain in his continuously bleeding leg.

     "I think w-we should adopt a dog," Gilbert suddenly suggested. 

"A dog? We have a dog. K-Kumasomethin."

"Really? Hmm. We sh-should get him a f-friend then."

"Okay."

"I'm g-getting tired.. It's p-probably like.." He yawned mid-sentence. "At least eleven."

"No w-way, Gil. It's only like.. S-Seven."

"I'm st-still tired."

"I d-don't think it's a good idea to fall asleep."

"Well.. Al-alright. I'll.. I'll try not t-to. I p-probably still will though. Promise me y-you'll stay awake w-with me 'till I fall a-asleep?"

"Oh, alright. I p-promise."

A good fifteen minutes passed before either of them said anything. "Matt? Do you think the sun'll come up soon?" Maybe it was a bit delusional.

No response.

"Matt?"

Silence. 

"Matt? Mattie? Matthew?!" He couldn't move his fingers much, but Gilbert could move his arms enough that he could shake Matthew a little. "Matthew!" He placed his hand underneath the blond's paled nose to find only the faintest puffs of breath. "Matthew.. M-Mattie, wake up. You're going to.. I d-don't know." He honestly couldn't say he did know much right now, about their situation or reality in general. 

Five minutes passed, and Gilbert was unable to wake Matthew. 

"Matt?" He murmured hopefully again, holding his hand under the Canadian's nose. Nothing. "Matthew?!"

For the first time in more than two hours, he shifted Matthew off of him, holding his ear up to the blonde's chest. 

Th-thump. Thuuuu-thump. Thu-ump. Thump. 

A long stretch of silence.

Thump.

"Matt? Mattie? Matthew?" Gilbert, fueled by the delusion of the cold, was becoming panicked. He shook Matthew again, more roughly this time. "Matthew! Wake up!"

No response whatsoever. 

"Wake up, dammit! You promised y-yours pay me back! You p-promised you'd s-stay with me t-till I fall a-asleep!" He could feel hot, salty water running down his face, stinging the cold flesh. "MATTHEW!"

The taller man had fallen still, not even the occasional shudder of breath racking his body. The pool of blood beneath his leg had stopped expanding at least thirty seconds before. Gilbert wouldn't, couldn't admit it to himself. 

"Matthew! Wake up! Q-quit kidding around, you idiot! I-it isn't funny!"

Matthew was gone, vanished from this world.

"M-Matt! Plea-" He was cut off by a sob that racked his body. More hot tears stung at his eyes, threatening to spill over. He let them. The awesome, incredible, amazing Gilbert reduced to a sobbing mess over Matthew's.. body, on the mountain in the wilderness. Who would've thought.

He cried for at least another hour. By that time, he wasn't even sure why he was crying any more. Who was this man that was dead in front of him? The jerking movement of his sobs gave him just a tiny bit more warmth, kept him alive a tiny bit longer, but there was no point. He cried himself to sleep with his favorite Canadian, under a cruelly beautiful sea of Canadian stars in the Canadian wilderness. Gilbert cried himself to sleep, and never woke up.