Chapter Text
“I bought a horse,” Arthur says, smiling nervously.
“What the fuck?” John demands. This was supposed to be a business meeting.
“I bought a horse,” Arthur repeats, “for Tommy. There’s the ones at the shipyard, but I’ve been looking for an old, gentle horse, one that’s good with kids, and I found one, she’s slow, not very big, and I talked to a lady who has land out in the country. A rich widow, she likes charity, all that sort of thing, she told me it’s alright if I keep the horse there and someone- you know, just someone, whoever- could bring Tommy to ride it, whenever.”
John just stares at him blankly. Finally, he clears his throat, trying to stay calm. “Tommy can’t ride horses anymore, Arthur. If he falls-”
“It’s one of them horses at the fairs, you know, the ones just walk in a circle all day. Used to going slow, being led about on a rope, so you or Finn could be right there. And it’s small, almost like a pony.”
“You’ve already bought this horse.”
“I don’t have to go with you, John. I just thought it might be good,” Arthur mutters. “It’s out in the countryside, too. Fresh air and all that.”
“I’ll talk to Polly.”
It takes several days, but Polly finally agrees, and the more he argues for it, the more John thinks it’s a good idea after all. Tommy loves horses, he’s thrilled just to pet them, but he’s been so nervous about the shipyard since he was kidnapped, and fresh air will be good for him.
“We have a surprise for you! Yes, we do!” Lizzie coos as they settle into the car. Tommy yawns and curls up against her; this widow lives out in the middle of nowhere, they’ve gotten up before dawn to start driving. Lizzie dressed Tommy and wrapped him in a quilt, and John carried him to the car, worrying about his weight the whole time- he’s hardly gained any weight since leaving the hospital, outright refuses to eat most days.
“Broth, he can manage,” Polly said the night before. “But nothing else. They had a feeding tube, at the hospital, I’ll have to take him back if…”
Maybe fresh air will help with his appetite. Probably not, but there’s always a chance, isn’t there? John glances into the backseat, where Tommy’s fast asleep, and smiles at Lizzie. “Hard at work, I see,” he teases.
“Oh, he’s a handful, alright.”
By the time they get to the estate, Tommy’s awake again, sucking on his shirt sleeve and watching the scenery with wide eyes. “Pretty,” he breathes, staring out the window. “Liz- Li-Lizzie, pretty!”
“Yes, it’s all very pretty, isn’t it? Look at that big house, that’s where we’re going!”
“Pretty!”
“So pretty! Just like a castle!”
John keeps a firm grasp on Tommy’s hand as they walk towards the house, and a beautiful woman meets them halfway there, wearing a beautiful, expensive dress. “You must be the Shelbys,” she calls, smiling. “I’m May Carleton, a pleasure to meet you. Which one of you is Arthur?”
“Arthur’s not here. I’m John, and this here’s Tommy.”
“Hello to you both. Come along, I’ll show you the horse.” She’s remarkably proper, and John wonders if she knows what they do.
“Horse?” Tommy asks hopefully.
“Yes! Let’s go see the horse,” Lizzie croons. May leads them to a stable, brings out a lovely, smallish gray horse, and Tommy gasps, looks to John for permission to approach her.
“Here, have a look.” John leads his brother over, and Tommy pets the horse’s mane, grinning.
“Pretty,” he says softly. “Pretty, pretty horse.”
“There’s her name, then,” John decides. “Pretty Horse, how about that? Now, Tommy- look here, Tommy. Tommy, hey, over here.” It takes a minute to grab his attention, but once he’s got it John leads him to the horse’s side and mounts the horse, to Tommy’s delight, if his excited squeaking is anything to go by. “You wanna get up here with me? C’mon, up you go.”
Lizzie helps Tommy up, and John immediately wraps an arm around his chest, already nervous. “Very good,” May says primly, taking the rope. “I’ll walk her around, then, and you just keep hold of him.”
“How about that, eh, Tom? You excited?” John puts both arms around his brother, squeezes him playfully, and Tommy laughs, squirming, reaches to scratch behind the horse’s ears.
“I think everyone should ride horses,” May says as she leads the horse slowly toward the field. “The mentally deficient, especially. They’re wonderful creatures. Has he always liked them?”
“Oh, that’s an understatement. Used to run off and sleep in the barn when we were kids. Here, let’s show her your pretty tattoo, eh?” John tightens his grip on Tommy’s waist with one hand and pushes his sleeve up with the other- all his clothes have gotten so loose it’s easy to expose his bicep- to show May his tattoo of a rose and a horseshoe.
John hates seeing his tattoos, being reminded of who Tommy used to be. He stares at them, sometimes; once, he sat with his sleeve rolled up, looking at the star tattoo, then took Lizzie’s arm and pushed her sleeve up, stared at her in confusion when she didn’t have the same thing.
“That’s lovely,” May says. “Did you- let him get that?”
“He used to be normal. Hit his head.”
“Oh! I’m sorry, I hadn’t known-”
“Nah, it’s fine. Arthur wouldn’t’ve told you. Why’d you let us come out here, anyway?”
“I try to be charitable. Seemed a small enough thing, anyway. My husband’s sister was paralyzed, I used to help her when I could, before she passed.”
“Horse,” Tommy interrupts, apparently unintentionally. He’s been playing with the horse’s mane, hopelessly tangling it, John notices.
“Yes, we’re riding a horse. Don’t tangle her mane, okay? She doesn’t like that. No, Tommy, don’t play with that. No.”
“Horse. Pretty.”
“Very pretty, that she is. Give me your hands, no more braiding.”
“John.” Tommy relaxes against him, sighs contentedly. “Pretty,” he says again, and looking at the blue sky, his brother happy in his arms, John has to agree.