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“Gyro?” Johnny asked as he stared up at the night sky. The stars twinkled in a way that almost reminded him of morse code. It was as if the Heavens were trying to tell him something. He blinked. The stars blinked back.
“What’s up, Johnny?” Gyro responded, not turning to look at him. He, too, was taken by the stars.
All Johnny could think about was how close his friend was to him. If he reached out, he could touch him. Gyro had laid down next to him, placing his hat on his chest as he settled down for the night. If Johnny looked at him now, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to look away.
No, he knew he wouldn’t.
Johnny’s words faltered as he realized he wasn’t sure what he wanted to ask, “...Are you struggling to fall asleep too?”
There was silence. Johnny couldn’t tell what Gyro was thinking as he sat up and stretched, putting his hat aside, “Hm.. A little. Why? Something bothering you?”
There were many things Johnny could reply to that with. He could talk about the constant battling that was becoming his new norm. He could talk about the stress of the race or the daunting task of taking on the president when the time came. Their near death experiences were building up, little by little, and Johnny couldn’t find the words to describe how that felt. His chest constricted as he thought about it. Today was one of the days he didn’t have to fight to survive. Today, he didn’t have to push poor Slow Dancer to make the finish line. He glanced towards his horse's sleeping form before looking back to the all-seeing stars.
What would they say if they could speak? Who would they cheer for? Who would they curse?
In Johnny’s introspection, he didn’t notice Gyro scooting closer. It wasn’t until he felt the other gently lifting him to rest his head against his lap that he realized Gyro was doing… that.
“What’s this?” He asked with a soft voice. Was he supposed to find an issue with this?
Gyro pulled Johnny’s beanie off, brushing his fingers through his hair, “Doesn’t it hurt to sleep with this on?”
Johnny chose to ignore the lack of answer. He continued to stare up, “Sometimes I get a horseshoe imprint on my forehead, but I don’t notice it.”
“Really?” Gyro rubbed his thumb against Johnny’s forehead.
“Bad habit. It’s often we have time to relax before sleeping.”
“And you’re having trouble doing that?”
Johnny was quiet.
Gyro returned to messing with his hair, brushing up against his scalp gently. He found himself closing his eyes as he grew used to pressure against his head, trying not to focus on the implications of Gyro doing this.
“I’m worried,” Gyro spoke up, “About all of this. I think I’d be crazy if I said it didn’t get to me, but…. I think we have a good chance of coming out of this alright.
“I agree.” Johnny lied.
If Gyro could tell he was lying, he didn’t indicate it. Maybe he was lying too. Johnny wasn’t sure if he wanted to know that. It was nice to believe that Gyro genuinely believed they were going to be alright. Then, maybe, Johnny would believe too and maybe that meant things would be just fine. Instead, Gyro smiled at him, “Good! After all of this is over, we’re heading to Italy.”
“We?”
“Of course! There’s so many places you have to see. I’ll show you around, got it?”
“Don’t make promises you don’t plan on keeping.”
Gyro chuckled, “Nyo-ho~ Who do you think I am, Johnny? When we get there, you’ll see. Just a few more nights like this and we’ll be at the finish line before you realize it.”
“It’ll at least be an hour before I fall back asleep.”
“Why don’t I sing you to sleep?” Gyro offered after a moment. Johnny had heard his friend sing before. He was often humming to himself or singing something when the moment was right. Maybe he was just biased, but he thought it was nice.
Johnny’s instinct was to say no and make some comment about it, but instead, he found himself getting comfortable in Gyro’s lap, “Sure.”
“What? Really?” He sounded like he didn’t believe Johnny, but he didn’t waste a second. Gyro cleared his throat before he began his song, “Pizza Mozerella~ Pizza Moz-”
“Not that.” Johnny opened to see Gyro’s shit-eating grin. He enjoyed the song, sure, but not as a lullaby.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m going to kick your ass if you-”
“Okay, okay.” Gyro closed his eyes and started again.
It was a song Johnny didn’t recognize. Gyro’s voice was low as he sang the lyrics, his hands moving in rhythm with the song. For a moment, Johnny wished he knew Italian so he knew what Gyro chose to sing at him, but he didn’t mind it. There was something special about the way Gyro slipped into his native language to lull him to sleep. For now, he would only imagine what his companion wanted to say that he had to hide.
Maybe, one day he would be able to find out.
As he was falling asleep, he felt Gyro’s lips on his forehead. If he was awake enough, he would have said something, but he found himself not able to do anything to show he was awake. Johnny would enjoy the few signs that he was something special to Gyro. After all this was done, he would say something.
Unfortunately, he would never be given the chance.