Chapter Text
FROM WHAT you could remember, you had started to fear a lot of things when your mom died. Before then, you had never gotten a clear perception of death was and even then, your eight-year-old, pea-sized brain had taken a good month to fully understand what it meant. At the end of that month was when you saw the incredibly nice casket being lowered into the ground and suddenly, your older brothers had been in front of you and your two younger brothers to tell you three that you wouldn't see your mom anymore.
While both little ones had started sobbing, you had nodded, walked over to your father who had been carrying your infant twin brothers and stood there in silence, knowing the last person he'd want to see was you. After all, you had always been told you took after Momma.
Around five years later, your father had announced that his business was going under and that your family was now in debt. While your little brothers had been confused, you had sat there in silence like you had the day of the funeral. The whole service had always seemed out of your family's price range to begin with. Now, with this sudden revelation, you finally understood the reason for the grueling hours your father had subjected himself to.
Immediately though, your oldest brother had declared that he would win some horse race that had been in the works. The prize money wasn't much compared to what it would be five years later but it was just enough to bring your family back up and running. Everyone was ecstatic. You could still remember the way you all had decided to celebrate, even though there was nothing to really celebrate for just yet. It was just around this time that the fears had started to pile up.
Tom was the first to attempt to win— and the first to get seriously injured. You hadn't witnessed it firsthand but you were certainly there as he was pulled away on a stretcher, face indistinguishable. Later on, you had come to find out he was mauled by a bear. As most were, you had already somewhat feared them, but seeing your brother's destroyed figure had been enough to spike that fear.
As a result, the family debt had almost doubled. The prize money that Tom had promised for you all wouldn't be enough to save your family from its debts and had it not been doubled for the next race, maybe Micheal wouldn't have gone and attempted to do the same as Tom.
In comparison to Tom, Micheal had always been a very outdoorsy person and therefore knew far more about the wilderness and how to survive in it. This, however, didn't help at all when he got trampled by horses in the first part of the race; it also didn't help that you had watched it all take place. You had seen it all— how he was flung off his horse and into the unforgiving hooves of the other horses behind him.
You could remember his body twisted and bent in ways that the human body should never be able to do, all the while hearing his faint screams. Your father had been the one to place a hand over your eyes and had he not, you knew you would have ended up far more traumatized than you had been so far. After that, being trampled had gone on the list of fears.
Paul, the third oldest brother, was a religious fanatic. Although he was nice sometimes, he had a cocky side to him that usually led to him having a bunch of enemies. Despite warnings from your father, Paul insisted that he follow the path God had set out for him and join the race. Paul had also made the incredibly kind statement that he'd be keeping all the money for himself.
When you watched someone throw a wasp's nest at his face while he was riding, you were both happy and terrified. Happy that your stuck-up brother had finally gotten what he deserved but terrified at the mere thought of going through what he was going through. In the end, Paul had decided that he had been punished by God and spent every night praying in hopes he'd be forgiven.
Al decided to go through with the race next, knowing well he could die but figured if he just stuck to a set of rules he had given himself, he'd be fine. He had, of course, not been fine when they dug him out of the snow, half-dead and with an extreme case of hypothermia. His guttural screams still stuck with you to this day while the doctors were amputating parts of his body.
When they were done with him, he was missing an entire leg, half an arm, a few fingers, some toes, and his right ear. The way parts of his skin had remained blue and sickly for days after people found him was frightening in itself. And amputation after amputation, the already increasing debt your family had racked up grew worse. You found herself fearing such a thing happening to you as well.
But your fears had become crippling when Robert had left for the races.
Unlike your other brothers, Robert was the one you were closest to. Robert had been a shoulder for you to cry on when your mother died and there to soothe you when you'd see your brothers get injured to the point where you were paralyzed with fear at the mere thought. When Robert had decided that he'd be the one to win the race and save your family from debt, a part of you wanted to throw a tantrum and beg him to stay, despite being seventeen at the time.
Yet, another part knew that compared to your other brothers, Robert was the most well-rounded and had the highest chance of winning. So despite being against it, you found yourself supporting him from the sidelines. But what a fool you were.
Robert's death was one you would replay in your mind so often you thought you might go insane. With his death came the foolish declarations of your younger brothers that they'd get their revenge for him. That they'd honor his name once they were old enough.
But you wouldn't allow it.
You wouldn't see your younger brothers die at the hand of the terrifying race that had taken almost all of your family away from you, brother by brother. The one whose prize money rose as your family fell into an almost unplayable debt. The one that had taken Robert away from you, leaving only a tattered old hat with his name embroidered on the inside rim. You, like all your other brothers, decided you'd do the same and join the race.
In sum, it was a terrible idea.
The second you woke up in your tent, you were screaming. No, it wasn't because you remembered that you were going to actually take part in the race (although you were definitely anxious about it), but because you realized you had pulled the most idiotic move and fallen asleep in your tent. Yes, you had fallen asleep.
The night before you had sworn to yourself that you'd stay awake and make sure you wouldn't get secretly ambushed but clearly you had done anything but that. And screaming didn't help either. When you had gotten out of the tent with rustled and frantically put on loose clothing, the first thing the men outside had done was chuckle to each other.
"Hey, Speedwagon! When'd you manage to go sparrow catching, eh?" Your face burned as they walked up to you, one of them putting an arm over your shoulder and suffocating your senses with must and liquor. "Sounds like you gave her a hog-killin' time this morning~" You had gone silent; they thought you were doing something with another girl? Your face burned again and you sneakily slipped out from under the man's arm with a fake grin.
"Y-Yeah, I caught me a fine-looking lady and I guess she couldn't be too quiet, haha..." you trailed off awkwardly while pulling the rim of your hat down to cover even more of your face than already had been. It went quiet for a moment but before you could freak out, you were slapped on the back roughly, the men cackling around her. You, although grossed out and terrified, joined in on the laughter.
"Hey, where'd she go though?" You froze, beginning to tremble under the ill-fitting dress-shirt Robert had once owned. The men who had once been laughing and congratulating you for bagging an imaginary chick were now serious, looking at you in a way that made you want to die right then and there. "Maybe she's still in the tent!" Your heart dropped; you had found that your brothers had packed some of your skirts and you had left them next to your bag before falling asleep.
"H-Hold on! Um, she left a few minutes ago!" The men had brushed the thought off, saying that they would have known if a woman had run out of the tent. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as they walked in anyways. "Wait a minute...ain't these girl clothes?" Your thoughts raced as you stood at the entrance of the tent, racking your mind for some kind of excuse. Then it hit you.
"Er..." you coughed into your hand for some dramatic flair, "...she took some of my clothes. I didn't know what to do with 'em so I left 'em there. Figured I might see her at the finish line so I left 'em by my bag to give 'em to her. Can't have a lady run around in men's clothing after all." The men looked between each other as you coughed into your hand again.
"It'd be a shame to hide those curves." They slowly began to nod and grin, mumbling to one another about the way they'd get to sleep with hundreds of women once they got the prize money. All you could do was stare in disgust as they talked, hoping that something would come to save you from your misery.
"Attention all participants, it is currently nine-thirty. Each of your numbers is your starting grid number. For fairness, please be at your corresponding grid by two minutes to ten."
"Oh would you look at the time! I should probably get my stuff together now! See you folks on the starting line!" you said with fake cheerfulness as you ushered them out of your tent, collapsing onto the dirt when they were finally out. A familiar whinny came from outside the tent, leaving you to sigh.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll be more careful, Thunder," you mumbled as you crawled over to your belongings, sorting out the things you would need for the trip across the country. While picking some items to leave behind, you readjusted your ill-fitting clothes, making sure that nothing too obvious would make you look anything but a man. By the time you were done sorting and packing, it was ten minutes to ten o'clock.
"Guess it's time to go, huh?" you muttered as you approached Thunderstruck, your somewhat temperamental yet experienced palomino horse. You looked over your companion, making sure all the harnesses were in the right place and that the harness was sitting correctly. After helping Robert set Thunderstruck up for about a year, you had gotten to know the way things had to be set up on a horse as well as how to take care of them. It was a nice step in the right direction considering you still had a fear of being trampled but it wouldn't really help you now; especially since you still didn't know how to ride a horse.
Thunderstruck whinnied again, giving you some form of judgment through her deep black eyes. Your face flushed and after looking back and forth, you brought over an empty crate so you could pull yourself onto the saddle. It had taken a few moments of struggling but you had finally made it onto Thunderstruck who immediately made her way to the starting line. It wasn't until you both reached the grids that you had actually steered Thunder.
"B-359...B-359...B-359!" An anxiety-riddled smile pushed its way onto your face as you came to a stop inside the grid, listening to the chatter around you. Thunderstruck scuffed at the dirt with her hooves, clearly annoyed that you both had to stay still for two minutes. With every movement Thunder made, you gripped the reins tight enough to make your knuckles white, all the while your brain wracked itself for the worst possible scenarios.
Maybe you'd end up dead, trampled beneath the hooves of the other racers' horses. Or even worse, someone would find you were a girl and push you off Thunderstruck. The men from earlier were probably already suspicious of you and the shitty excuses you had given.
"Fuck, why'd I think I could ever do this, Thunder?" Her horse huffed below her, ignoring your grumbles as you eyed the other competitors. Thunder hooved at the dirt some more as you sat under the burning heat. You could hear the murmurs of the people around you, staring directly at your smaller form.
Even in the baggy clothes you wore, people seemed to be catching on. Cursing your luck, you tilted the loose hat you wore to block your eyes and the relentless rays of the sun. "Think that's a lady?" You bit your lip harshly, gripping the reins in your gloved hands even tighter than before. "Well, if that's actually a gal, I wouldn't mind—"
"YOU BETTER WIPE YOUR CHIN BOY OR ELSE... WE'LL HAVE A PROBLEM...Y-YOU AND ME!"