Just Over NY - [Hetalia] Uncle!2p!Canada x Bratty!Reader

Chapter 6: A Little Hope, A Little Smile

You'd cried a little during your trip from Winnipeg to Matt's house. But a sigh of utter relief washed through you as the trees parted to the sight of Matt's cabin with the wrap-around porch.

Carefully parking Regina's car, you notice not only that your gas tank couldn't get you much farther as well as the fact Matt's red truck was nowhere to be seen.

Your heart sinks, but you can only hope that he's out on an errand. Maybe if you look around there will be clues as to whether or not he's still around.

Stepping up the front steps to the door, you go to the wooden deck chair ones again and lift up the seat. Thank God, Matt's key was inside again.

Picking it up, you stuck it in the door and went inside, although with a pang of worry realized the door hadn't required the key. It had already been open.

It was eerie, how strangely untouched everything felt. In fact, it appeared nothing had moved since your kidnapping. Even a glass of water you'd sat on the kitchen counter was where it remained, although it's content's wasn't something you'd drink anymore. A thin film of dust seemed to cover everything once again.

Matt hadn't been here.

You want to cry again, wanted him or Regina to be here. You just wanted a home again. But now was not that time for tears. There was still searching to be done.

Wanting to do what home you had a little justice, you found the utility closet, pulled out a broom and duster, and went to work. First you swept the kitchen, having to kick a few insects into the dustpan.

Looking in the fridge was disappointing. But at least Matt had taken his food with him, wherever he was now.

You are tidied up the living room next, although as you did so the whole concept felt a little melancholy. What, it's not like you'll be having company. But at any rate, you continued on your way since, in a way, it simply felt right.

Slipping on your boots from the department store, you slip out into the woods. They're green with summer again, just as when you left. The poachers would be out and about.

And Matt wasn't here to scare them off...

You tread through the trees in a direction you've done so before. And soon the shed Matt had been ambushed in came into view. Discomfort found you all over again just like the first time you saw the bloody hand prints in to window. Even though you'd known Matt was alive, a flash of horror went through you as you imagined him laying where he'd been when you left. Untouched, but rotting alongside the poacher he'd killed inside the same building.

With sudden urgency, you flung one of the doors open. These doors were not locked either. Matt must have left in a hurry to have left this place open as well as his house. He must have known no one would come.

You stepped inside carefully, instantly bringing a hand to your face. The poacher lied there, his face sunken in from decay. You looked away from him, not daring to look much longer than those few seconds. On the floor where Matt had been laying was a puddle of dried blood on the cement floor of the shed as well as the Team Canada hockey stick Josh had given him. It hadn't moved an inch from last you saw it, the blood spattered on it blending in with the country's bright red color eerily.

The wood had splintered, and with a pang you remembered Regina's lack of hope Josh was her son. You hoped so, and with a little frown you picked up the pieces of the now twice broken stick. Such a shame, really, since Josh had prized it so much. Quietly you decided to fix it up yourself before leaving. Matt should have the supplies somewhere to do just that.

Turning to the also bloodstained work table, you lifted your shirt up over your nose as you read a yellowed note laying on the wood. It was Matt's handwriting, and some blood had dripped onto the paper. It had been written a year ago, obviously, as the ink had been worn a little and the paper discolored from sunlight coming in the window.