Matthew wimpered as another flash lit up outside his window, lighting the white curtain in a brief electric-blue light. He hid his head under the blanket fisted tightly in his hands as the crash of thunder struck, crackling loudly as if it had rent the earth. The blond Canadian squeezed his eyes shut as the rumbling continued, sometimes clashing, sometimes banging, sometimes rolling. The lightning was almost a constant, consitent strobe. Then the lights flickered out as the next bang of thunger hit, loud and unforgiving.

A cry escaped Matthew's lips, quiet and desperate. The others in the room didn't seem to be as bothered, no, most of them were either asleep or gossipping in low tones, ignoring the Canadian boy's plight. Fear stabbed violently at his heart, fear and a sort of thrill that he was loathe to admit to having.

Fear outweighed the thrill, though. Immensely so. Matthew released his blanket to hug himself, and the stuffed bear, Kumajirou, that he had brought along. He whimpered quietly as the storm continued to rage, escalating and beating at the roof with droplets of rain like long, steely fingers tapping at the shingles.

Why did I ever agree to come along on this Retreat? Matthew asked himself angrily. Yelping quietly as the bed seemed to shake with the next bombardment of thunder. It was as though the cabin were under canonfire!

Matthew felt his mattress dip and a slight weight alight on his head, "Hey, Mattie...?"

Matthew squeaked, more at the two crashes of thunder, one on either side of the cabin, that had just hit the ground with a startling crack-bang sort of noise. Why could he still see the lightning through the blanket? Why?

"Mattie, hey..." Matthew felt the blankets being peeled back. He covered his face with a yelp as the darkened room was lit up with the startling blue-white he was loathing more by the second. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to block everything out. It wouldn't stop. It wouldn't stop.

Why won't it stop? Why won't it just stop? Matty felt hot tears lining his cheeks and violent- yet muted- sobs running though his body, shaking him horribly and making him feel sick with the way he was trying to be quiet.

"Mattie..." came the hushed, if a bit harsh, voice.

Matthew felt himself being pulled up and his arms being pried gently from his face. He kept his eyes tightly, painfully closed, jumping as thunger rolled and continued to roll for five seconds that reminded the Canadian of years, years and years even. Then the deathly silence in which he could hear his heart. And then the cycle started again, the low rumble, the lightning, the crash! of thunder.

"Mattie... don't cry..." he felt his tears being wiped away. But he didn't respond to the kindly touch, to wrapped up in the horrific sounds going on outside the godforsaken cabin. "Mattie, Mattie..." he opened his eyes when he felt himself being embraced, though, shocked at the contact, especially from anyone not being Alfred. He blinked at the albino currently holding him close. He didn't respond to the touch, though, at least... not until the next round of thunder.

The dots of light around the room- nightlights and little orange lights showing where phones were chargin- flickered and went out. A murmur of notice went through the others who were still awake, but it was otherwise disregarded. But Matthew, Matthew responed violently, arms flying around the red-eyed, pale-haired albino- Gilbert- and locking firmly in place as he whimpered into said German's shoulder.

"Shhhh... it's okay," Gilbert soothed, rubbing Matthew's back comfortingly, "It will all pass... it will all pass..."

Matthew only shivered in response, seeing the room light up with too-bright not-day pre-thunder light. Then the next stroke of thunder rolled in, shaking the floor enough for Matthew to feel it. He felt a quiet sob escape his throat again, just loud enough for Gilbert to hear it.

BAAANG!

Another rolling spot of thunder, louder then all the rest and leaving a dead, hollow silence in its wake.

Matthew was able to ignore it, partially, in favor of focusing completely on the elder Beilschmidt boy. Said albino was still whispering soothing encouragements and rubbing Matthew's back comfortingly. "It's alright, Mattie... it's alright..."

xXxXx

Matthew didn't even remember the rest of the storm, though he remembered a good deal of the fear that it caused. He woke up feeling much better, comfortable even. The cabin was lit with a soft sunlight from the East, warm and pink-orange. It was early. The after-rain sunrise would probably be gorgeous, but Matthew didn't feel like going and looking at it. He was content where he was.

"Whoa!" an obnoxious, recognizeable voice hissed.

Matthew glanced up at Alfred, his twin brother, who was presently leaning over the head of the bunkbed currently occupied by the Canadian, "Dude, don't look now, but you have a monster in your bed!" Alfred said conspiratorially.

"Eh?" Matthew blinked at his brother, then glanced off to his left, where Gilbert was sprawled, his arm was under Matthew's head and, under the blanket and sheet, Matthew could feel that their legs were entangled. He blushed lightly, turning back to look at Alfred, whose crooked grin was only the least bit unsettling.

"Mattie's got a boyfriend, Mattie's got a boyfriend~!" the American twin whisper-sang. He giggled quietly.

"G-go away, Al," Matthew demanded.

"Fine," Alfred grinned, "Breakfast is first come, first serve anyway! I need to get there and eat all the donuts!"

Matthew shook his head as his enthusiastic twin disappeared into the bathroom, a knot of clothes in his hand and a groggy, grouchy Englishman about a pace and a half behind him. Arthur- the English boy- had his clothes all neatly folded, all his bathroom supplied piled neatly on top of the folded stack. It would be a wonder if Alfred even managed to bring both his toothbrush and toothpaste into the bathroom.

Matthew turned his attention away from Arthur- who had glanced over at the Canadian's bed and acquired a look of confusion upon the notice of the albino occupying the Canadian's bunk. Gilbert was snoring quietly, mouth wide open and head leaned far back. One arm hung down the side of the bunk while the other continued to be Matthew's pillow. Matthew snuggled closer to Gilbert contently. "Thank you," he whispered.

The light snoring stopped and Gilbert's right arm, the one Matthew had been using as a pillow, came up around the blond, pulling him close while its owner grinned, Matthew squeaked at the unexpected embrace, a light pink dusting his cheeks. "No problem, Mattie," Gilbert said sleepily.