~ Third Person P.O.V ~

Katsuki slowly turned in his seat, unlatching his seatbelt and making direct eye contact with a certain yellow-haired soldier in the back. "Kaminari," He grounded out, "Did you do the oil change like I told you to this morning?"

The other male's eyes enlarged, the sclera mainly noticeable as a lump makes its occupancy known in the substructure of his throat. ". . . No?" He squeaked out, grimacing backward as Katsuki prepared to lunge at him.

In Kaminari's defense, some babies were dropped on their heads when they were born-- whereas he was clearly thrown at a fucking wall. It's not his fault.

"So, we're in the middle of fucking nowhere, with a car that decided to crap out on us," Sero heaved a sigh, smacking his cheek with a little too much force as an insect landed on him. "And there are bugs . . . everywhere,"

"Just out luck," The pink-haired woman voiced in, his face scrunched up in distaste as she sunk lower in her seat.

While the other's continued to place there dislikes about the ordeal they were now all affixed in, Shoto rested his head against the steering wheel. A prominent vein throbbing on the side of his head below his temple, mouth hardened into a grim, clean-cut line. Obviously, this is now how he envisioned this mission going, it hadn't even been a full twenty-four hours yet and everything was going to shit. Regardless of him slaving away all night devising the almost perfect plan to make sure nothing like this happened on the drive to Florida.

There that word was again: perfect.

A pestiferous reminder of everything he was not and his screwed-up plan was the unblemished example of that very notion. If he ever did things the correct way nothing like this would happen if he were not such a fucking . . . fuck-up then all of this could have been avoided. Maybe his father was right, he would never achieve anything great in his life-- he would never be anybody in his life.

Then, of course, there was the more rational portion of his brain that told him otherwise. That all these thoughts were just the saddening result of years, on top of years worth of abuse, emotional and physical alike. And that they didn't mean a single thing, that he shouldn't allow a minuscule setback send him spiraling down a hole like he habitually does-- if he put his mind to it he could figure a way out of this mess they all were in.

"Todo," Katsuki's voice crept into his ears, pulling back down into reality, "There's a hotel a few miles ahead of here--" he said, pointing on his map; using his other hand to shine a flashlight down onto the paper. "--maybe we can either all walk there or push the car over. But walking sounds better,"

"What would I do without you?" Shoto snickered, albeit it came out breathy and almost like a sigh of relief rather than laughter.

"Well for starters you'd have nobody else left who puts up with your bullshit," The blond said, shooting his best friend a wink.

"So did you guys figure out what we're doing, because the kid back here is passed out on Kirishima and we're all cold . . ." Ashido chimed in, leaning her arms on the backs of their seats.

And so, the group ended up trekking two miles that night-- only taking what they could carry to the hotel with them; which wasn't much. They'd all stay there for the night, find a nearby gas station that hopefully has oil for an oil change, then go right back on their way. In culmination, this would set them back at least ten to thirteen hours-- meaning Shoto would most likely be driving for a long time after that so the passengers would have to suck it up and sleep in the car. It was somewhat of a good plan, hell, it was the only plan they had so it was going to work one way or another.

Izuku ended up on Kirishima's back on the way to the hotel, the poor guy was unquestionably fatigued, and Kirishima just couldn't bring himself to wake him up. So instead he carries a ten-pound bag in one hand and a somewhat light Izuku on his back.

The hotel was severely worn down, a diluted green sign that read Driskill Hotel flickered prominently on the front. Dirt, grime, and rust adorning the sides of the building as well as the sign-- the hotel was nestled in between rows and rows of trees and forest, right off the side of the road. It looked like something out of a horror movie.

"Is it too late to turn back and sleep in the car?" Ashido hummed, her eyes darting from the hotel before them and the deserted road behind them.

A smug smirk managed to edge its way onto Shoto's lips as he pats the woman on the back. "I mean no, you can go back if you want . . . just watch out for the coyotes," He snickered, leading the group to the front entrance.

"Asshole," She muttered under her breath, lightly jogging to catch up with the rest of them.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The inside of the hotel was just as worse as the outside, old, dusted rugs aligned every inch of the flooring. Muck and mold dripped down a few of the walls-- how this hotel is still in business will forever remain a mystery to the group.

Kaminari and Kirishima managed to snag a room with two beds, Sero joining them and would most likely be sleeping on the floor. Of course, Ashido got a room to herself-- leaving Shoto, Katsuki, and a now semi-awake Izuku to get there room.

"Hi, Uhm, can we get a room with two beds?" Katsuki asked the front desk lady, seeing as though Shoto was too busy trying to violently shake Izuku awake.

The lady slowly peeled her eyes up from the books she was currently engrossed in, eyeing the male up and down with an obvious look of annoyance as she began sifting through the drawers. After about a good minute or so she looks back up at the blond.

"I have room for you, but not one with two beds-- those are all gone. Would guys each like individual rooms?"