Tʜᴇ Pᴀᴛʜ Tᴏ Hɪɢʜɢᴀᴛᴇs

Tʜᴇ Mᴀɴ Aᴛ Tʜᴇ Sᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 40

"Hurry up ve have to go."

You rolled your eyes for what felt like the millionth time that morning.

You were seated at the counter in the kitchen eating Hopple Popple that Reich had made for you. From the moment you had woken, he had been urging you to do whatever it was faster. He wanted an early start to your day.

The two of you had made the decision to have an excursion to the train tracks, where Reich was hoping to see something paranormal. Anything at all that could quell his monomania that there was something beyond life threading through his existence.

"Lemme just finish this, my God." You mumbled, stuffing the last of your breakfast into your mouth, before scraping the leftover onto your fork, downing that too.

"Vu're zo slow," Reich muttered, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes like a petulant child being told to eat his veg.

You drop your silver fork onto your plate, wiping your lips against the cuff of your sleeve, staring at him. "I would rather have choked eating that slowly than eating it quickly so I could end up in the passenger seat of your shitty driving faster."

Reich's eyes widened, his face drew back. For a moment he looked almost betrayed, before he lessened his tight arms and placed them on the countertop. "I am ein great driver how dare vu zay zat!" He spat defensively, watching through glared eyes as you took a sip from your glass of water. Aggravation descended deep as he perceived your nonchalantness as mockery.

You placed the glass down with the tips of your fingers, crossing your arms atop the countertop before smiling vainly at him. "You are a nightmare in the driver's seat, you don't actually drive, you just fail to crash."

Reich's eye twitched.

He opened his lips to say more, before Soviet, who was standing off to the side with a plate of Brötchen balanced at his chest, spoke suddenly. "I kan drive."

The both of you turned to face him with different expressions. Reich seemed utterly defeated, whilst you were overjoyed to hear you wouldn't have to be put through Reich's reckless driving again.

"Can you actually?" You asked, earning an honest nod from the Russian.

You turn back to Reich with a smile, pointing a single finger at Soviet, your back erect. "I appoint him driver, you're banned from the steering wheel."

Reich huffed and reverted back to his protective stance of crossed arms. His hat lowered over his eyes, though he was too busy pettily sulking to pull it back up.

You reached into your bag, which was hanging on the back of your stool, and fumbled through it. You felt the tingle of cold metal and folded your fingers around it. Fishing out the key Prussia had given you a while ago. It had slipped your mind to give them back, but he never mentioned it to you so you assumed he wasn't in a hurry to need them. Which was lucky for you. You would never have gotten very far in your ghost-hunting escapade if you hadn't a car.

Holding out the key you gestured for Soviet to catch them, to which he did smoothly, before tucking them safely into his pants pocket.

"Oh cheer up Reich, you can drive once you learn how to not kill your passengers." You assured him earnestly. Before you stood to your feet you took your bag off the back of the chair, then looped it over your shoulder and made your way towards the doorway. The others got the memo and began walking towards you.

Both caught up in a moment's notice, walking in stride beside you. Soviet to your left, Reich to your right. 

"Right, so it's the train tracks we're going to now right?" You implored, clapping your hands together for emphasis.