It was almost a surprise to Ethan the kind of man who stopped on the side of the road to pick him up as he stumbled his way slowly towards the outskirts of Chicago. He was gruff and silent, pulling over and throwing the door open for him with hardly a glance in his direction. If he hadn't known full well that this man would never hurt him, Ethan might never have gotten into the car. It was a small, neat, two-door Honda with comfortable seats, a small crack in the window that looked like a songbird, and a mess of stuff in the back. The man did not speak to him at all, other than to ask how far he was going. Once he had been informed that Ethan needed to go as far west as possible, he turned up the music, a wide collection of classic rock, and devoted himself to driving. He hardly looked over at Ethan for the rest of the drive.

Ethan's decision to go west again had happened more by instinct than from any real logic. He was running away again, and somehow Bree had changed from a person to a whole organization, looming from the east. His only thought was to get away, and somehow the peace of the northwest, the trees and mountains and general lack of hordes of people, felt more safe. He certainly wasn't going to travel towards Virginia, that place where this whole nightmare had begun. He didn't even want to pass through Virginia, which automatically ruled out almost all of the northeast. The fact that his silent chauffeur was heading towards a town in Oregon sealed his decision.

They had a rather strange arrangement, this quiet man who Ethan eventually got the name Matt out of, and himself. Despite his attitude, Matt was a surprisingly sympathetic and gentle man. He spent the two nights they were on the road in different hotels, and since each of them had a double bed he gave Ethan a place to sleep. Ethan did his best to help out by paying for gas with the small roll of bills he had found shoved into the pocket of his hoodie. He had to break the hundreds carefully, when Matt wasn't looking, as he didn't really want the man wondering from where Ethan got the cash. But Matt hadn't really expected the help from his unexpected traveling buddy, and he didn't question Ethan at all. After a wary first night in which neither man slept particularly well, the silence between them started to become almost companionable. Neither knew anything about the other except for a first name, and the fact that they both had an appreciation for Stairway to Heaven. Driving through the middle of the Nebraskan fields the song came up in shuffle. Ethan started out only humming, but when he heard Matt's husky voice he couldn't help but throw in his own accompaniment. Their voices mixed fairly well, considering neither of them could really hold a tune. But it cracked the last of the ice between them, and they started to trade a few words with comfort.

Matt dumped him with no ceremony on the outskirts of Bend, OR. He pulled the car over as soon as the houses started to rise about them, and turned to look at Ethan. He had been expecting the dismissal for over ten minutes, and he opened the door without any prompting. He offered Matt a brief smile, which the large man returned hesitantly a moment later. And that was it. Ethan closed the door and Matt drove away.