Archive of Our Own

Gaby’s first impression of Pin is that he doesn’t trust easily. If at all. 

And the truth is, he’s right to be skeptical. Holloway may have given him a shot, but such breaks are as easily taken away as they’re given. He’s gotten extremely lucky, and luck alone won’t let him last here.

Still. The uniform might not fit quite right, and he’s still got a frisson of nervous energy on him, but there’s no denying that he’s good . Very good, if not the outright best rider they’ve seen in years.

It’s the kind of talent that’s forged from being constantly underestimated, and learning to build something out of it, anyways. Something she’s quite familiar with, and then some.

But it’s not just that, of course. There’s so much more to this newcomer. It’s somehow both everywhere and nowhere, written plainly onto his face and simultaneously hidden beneath that careful exterior of his.  

Gaby doesn’t know where to begin, but she does know one thing -- against all odds, she’s rooting for him. He deserves a win, and she wants to be there to see it.

As for the rest -- well, she looks forward to taking this specific puzzle apart. One day at a time.

They become fast friends. Okay, maybe friends is a strong word, this early on, but they come together as easily and unassumingly as she’d expected, right from the start. 

That he’s been through his own personal hell and back is obvious from his countenance. She’s more surprised, however, by how little it seems to have warped him -- well, on first glance, anyways. For all the absolute shit he’s been through, he maintains a mostly gentle, unassuming exterior. 

That’s probably for the better, all things considered. Pin’s arrival had come with its own set of complications, too. There is, for example, the lingering presence of Bright Fields on everyone’s mind. Of Mia and some money that’s conveniently gone missing.

Any other person would have flown into a rage, but not him. Revenge isn’t his style, or so he claims. 

But there’s a dark side lurking in him, too. There always is, with these types. 

(She sees it for just a moment, clear as day, in the way his eyes briefly flicker with something hard and defensive and fierce . It’s a look that suits him, actually.)

For the time being, Gaby lets it slide.

“We’ve got your back now,” she tells him smoothly. I’ve got your back now. “And Mia might wanna watch hers.”

He doesn’t believe her, quite yet. She doesn’t fault him for that, either.

But she’s got time. They both do.

They’re always the first on and the first off practices. Both of them, it seems, have something to prove.

Eventually, they start to do their sets together. It was inevitable, really.

Engaging in some friendly ribbing is entirely her idea, but Pin takes it to it just as easily as he had everything else that’s been thrown at him, lately.

“Is that the best you can do?” she calls out, but there’s no real bite to it, just a slight tease on the edge of her tongue.

“Alright, challenge accepted,” he calls back, and she sees him give his first truly unguarded grin. “Let’s go again.”

Happiness looks good on him. Really, it does.

She finds herself grinning back, despite herself. He makes it so easy .

And, well -- it’s been a long time since she’s had that.

It’s somewhere in between early-morning practices on the field and late evenings at Hawthorne Cottage that she realizes -- 

She’d do just about anything for him. No questions asked.

The next big encounter with Brightfields comes at the Maid of the Island event, a few weeks later.

Holloway’s here, and they’re here to make an entrance , at that.

In a split second decision, she loops her arm easily through his. Second nature, by now, but it’s never felt quite this public .

(But then again, aren’t they putting on a show?)

If Pin is surprised, he quickly wipes it away and goes along with her little act. Beyond them, she can feel the other team’s eyes on them. Watching, waiting. Putting it all together, first slowly, then all at once.

The ruse continues when she pulls him away from Zoe a little later. No, Gaby doesn’t really need his help with her dubiously-styled medieval uniform. But it’s worth it to see Zoe watch as he zips her up, his fingers on the chainmail, his breath lingering on her shoulder.

“Don’t do anything crazy.” he mutters, voice low and quiet. 

Pin’s concerned, genuinely. The worry on his end is cute, endearing , even.

She doesn’t need his warning. He knows that. But still.

“Don’t worry ,” she murmurs. “I’ll go easy on your girl crush.”

A half truth, again. He’s worried about her, too, of course. She knows that.

But that’s a bit of softness she doesn’t feel like engaging with right now. Not when she’s got something else on mind - 

“But the Bright Fields captain? She’s mine .”

In her periphery, she catches Pin smile at that. He’s well aware of her penchant for ruthlessness, her competitive streak. Has had enough chances to back away, if it truly scared him.

But it doesn’t, because he and she are one and the same. And he knows better, by now, than to try and dissuade her from anything she wants.

She knocks Mia down easily. It’s far too satisfying, on her end. She almost wants to do it again. 

“ That was for Pin.” she huffs out, and she can’t help the feeling of victory that washes over her.

 Because yeah, it absolutely was. And it was definitely worth it.

Gaby gives him the key to the safe, when the dust settles. He meets her gaze when he recognizes just what it is, a slow, careful look of surprise crossing his features.

“I told you .” she admonishes him, though half heartedly at that. “I’ve got your back.”

“ What ... what do I do with this?”

Pin looks suddenly hopeful, cautious. Free , for the first time in a long time.

She finds herself breaking into a proud grin. He’s come so far. And he’s still got so far he can go.

“You can do whatever you want,” she tells him.

Because sometimes, it really is as simple as that. 

Things are comfortable, though quiet, for a little bit. 

Gaby sees him around, and though they never talk about what she did for him, there’s that warm, unspoken understanding between them. 

He seems lighter, freer , these days. The best he’s been, yet.

Then he invites her over to the cottage to help clean out his Bright Fields stuff, and things explode once more. Though not even remotely in the way she expects.

She’s going through his things when she sees it. A letter that nearly makes her jaw drop in surprise. 

Nope, her eyes don’t deceive her. That’s admission papers for Hamilton Academy . The boy’s full of secrets, it seems.

He jolts to attention when he sees what she’s got in her hands.

“ Give that to me ,” he snaps, and ah yes, there it is. That flash of darkness she’d suspected he’d had in him, all along. 

She’s glad he’s still capable of it. Hell, she likes him better for it.

“Touchy,” is all she says, and he --  well, for a brief moment, he says nothing at all.

(He doesn’t have to explain himself to her. She already knows the answer, anyways.)

The immediate aftermath of finding the letter is something entirely unexpected, however.

She tells him about her dad and her fear of thunderstorms, growing up. Purely by accident, at that. 

It scares her. It’s a little too raw, a little more real than she’s ready to be with him.

No. That’s not true. The truth is she is ready, and it’s come a lot faster than she’d thought it would.

But the conclusion is the same, and it’s something she knows he needs to hear -- 

“The past sucks for people like me and you.” She keeps her voice low, neutral. “So you keep moving forward, and you don’t get too attached.”

He nods, then, and she knows she’s gotten through to him. It was only ever a matter of time , after all.

Detaching himself from Bright Fields -- from Zoe , really --  is the only way he’ll be ready to win. 

Gaby knows this. Which is why, if she sees it fit to help speed it along, well, that’s for the better.

That, of course, is why she ends up taking Zoe’s tiny radio back to Bright Fields. He doesn’t need it anymore, anyways.

Zoe, predictably, is furious . All but shoves his hoodie at her. Which she’d hung onto presumably for sentimental-yet-firmly platonic reasons only . Of course.

This won’t be the last stand for these two, for sure. Even she’s not ludicrous enough to believe otherwise. 

(It’s important to keep moving forward, yeah, but the past has a way of fighting back, sometimes.)

But until then, Gaby’s not worried. She gets some free clothing out of it, so that’s a fun bonus.

They’ll be crossing paths soon enough, anyways. With those two, it’s practically inevitable.

Soon comes far sooner than she expects. A trip to the shore with a run-in between the rival camps ends up ensuring just that, and how .

The tension is immediate and overwhelmingly obvious -- Pin watching Zoe, Zoe watching Pin. 

Those two have got issues a kilometer wide. At minimum. She can’t say she’s envious, exactly.

Gaby routinely gets Pin at his best, and she likes him just as much at his worst. She’d take both over... whatever this is, any day.

Enough is enough. She’s got to be the one to step in. As per usual.

“So,” she says, in an attempt to break the ice. “Who wants to play Spin the Bottle?”

Gaby likes drama, but even she couldn’t have planned this out better if she’d tried. 

The first spin is from her to Pin. With Zoe there to watch. Oops.

She doesn’t miss the look on his face when the bottle lands on him. The micro-changes in his expression, subtle and fleeting as they are. The way his eyes drag over her mouth, in the space between two seconds. It says everything and nothing, but it does make her suddenly wonder . 

(It’s a dangerous thought, she thinks. A rabbit hole she’s not sure she wants to go down.)

But there’s more , of course. There always is, with him.

Gaby can practically see his brain going at a million miles an hour, now. As he tries to assess the potential damage involved, here.

(People are, of course, complicated like that. Pin isn’t entirely deserving of the blame, either.)

To be clear -- she has no intention of frenching him in front of a dozen strangers. 

It’s just going to be a friendly peck. If that.

Much like the events at Maid of the Island, it’s another performance . Of a similar and yet entirely different type.

But this won’t work if he psychs himself out, first. 

Which is why she chooses not to lean in, right away. Chooses to draw close and whisper, instead -- 

“ Hey .” 

It’s just one word, but it’s all he needs to snap out of his thoughts and back to attention, his gaze coming back to her.

And for a moment, there’s a much-needed pause. It gives her the space to think , as she makes her decision once more, the ocean wind in her hair, his warm breath on her cheek. 

It’s almost beautiful, almost perfect -- two people drawn impossibly close, but both with someone else entirely on their mind.

(Zoe Philips is such a lucky girl, she thinks, and she doesn’t even know it.)

“Pin,” she murmurs, voice suddenly low and breathless, “give her a show , will you?”

Gaby doesn’t even have to look at him, but she knows that he grins. Just the slightest upturn of his lips, but that’s enough.

She grins back, right before she crushes her lips against his. Lets one hand tangle briefly in his hair.

He plays his part, too. The kiss is brief and fairly innocuous, but she can feel his hand on her waist, holding onto her for just a moment before they break apart. 

Behind them, the group is quiet, tense. In her periphery, Gaby can see that Zoe looks silently furious .

All in all -- seems like it was stellar performances, all around.

(It’s almost a shame, she thinks later, that that time had to be their first.)

The kiss is the start of much, much worse.

What’s supposed to be a friendly few hours of communal relaxation goes south and fast . The rival camp, it seems, is not in a particularly fraternal mood. 

One thing leads to another, and soon enough it’s Mia hurling barbed accusations of a superiority complex at Pin. He thinks he’s a better rider than everyone at Bright Fields, doesn’t he?

She doesn’t miss the moment as it happens -- Pin glances at her briefly before he gives Mia his answer, words coming out low yet surprisingly confident -- 

“Yeah, Mia. I am a better rider.”

Gaby feels a surge of sudden fondness, of warm affection for him. 

His skills are his own. No one can take that away from him, now. 

She throws him a wink, a reward for this little victory. Well done . 

He meets her with a small, proud grin. She tucks the memory of his face away for another time. 

Bright Fields, predictably, loses their goddamn minds.

Of course they’re going to race now. It’s Bright Fields versus Holloway, Zoe versus Pin.

Ah, yes. Who could have seen that coming?

Gaby sees them, after. After a race gone horribly wrong and then some.

Their faces are a little too close and somehow, she knows exactly what went down. 

She’s not upset. Neither party looks particularly happy about it, either. 

She does, however, manage to meet Pin’s eyes. He looks angry, and more confused than ever before.

A regression, then. A significant one at that.

She feels a sharp twinge in her chest. Even though this has nothing to do with her.

God . Some pair, those two.

Heaven help them all.

She helps him find Raven, after the fact. The poor thing is frightened out of his mind. 

That he’s got some underlying trauma is obvious. That Zoe was the one to re-trigger it is just downright unfortunate.

“He’s not quite himself,” Pin observes, voice low and hushed. 

(Neither, of course, is he , but Gaby keeps mum on that.)

“Hey, boy.” she murmurs, and in a moment she can’t make up ,  she swears they both look at her. 

It would be funny, almost, except it also really isn’t. Not after all that’s happened.

She’s talking to Raven, but she’s looking at Pin when she says -- 

“It’s been a long day. Let’s go home .”

They drop Raven off at Bright Fields together. Explain the situation, in brief.

“I’ll stay,” she offers quickly. It’s on impulse, mostly. She’s not sure what pushes her to do it. 

Her brother casts her a short warning look. Don’t give it all away. Not when you’re so close .

To him, this is probably skating the line of danger. He’s not wrong on that front. 

But Raven needs her. And she can’t be around Pin. Not now.

So if his careful gaze lingers on her a little longer, well, she ignores it. 

Because he’s got questions she can’t answer. Questions she doesn’t want to answer.

(Maybe they can keep some secrets between them, after all.)

She’s back from Bright Fields just before nightfall. Stops by Pin’s place because, well, where else would she go?

Papa Hawthorne, it seems, is out. Pin greets her with little more than a dark look. 

The events of the day have finally caught up to him. She feels for him, in that moment. 

He’s really had a shit time of it all, and none of it is his fault to blame. 

(But he still pays the price, every single time.)

Pin guides her wordlessly up to his room. She settles comfortably on the corner of the bed, and he sidles up next to her, his thoughts clearly still a million miles away.

She has to broach the topic. But God, where does one begin ?

“I’m sorry about today,” Gaby murmurs. She keeps her tone low, quiet. “I mean that, Pin.”

Carefully -- oh-so-carefully -- she lets her fingers interlace with his.

Pin lets out a sharp exhale, and for a brief moment, she wonders if she’s overstepped her bounds. But then he relaxes into her touch, his thumb coming to run briefly across her own.

“ I just -- I don’t get it.” he starts, and the look on his face is dark, angry . “I don’t know why I bother trying, sometimes. It seems like it always ends the same way.”

It’s not just about Zoe that he’s talking about anymore, that much is clear. He’s talking about everything -- daring to want more than what they’ve got is something they’ve both been punished for, again and again and again .

She can hardly fault him for his current state of burnout. It’s all so exhausting .

(But then again, the only place from rock bottom is up .)

“Hmm,” she murmurs in agreement. “Want some advice?”

It’s her job to look out for him. Since apparently, no one else will.

He looks too dejected to say anything , and for a moment, she worries that he might not. But then, slowly, he nods, and she can tell that he’s ready to listen. 

“Stop punishing yourself, Pin.” she murmurs. “It’s okay to go after what you want.”

(There’s a hypocrisy in that statement, and she knows it, but she can’t engage with that. Not now.)

As it turns out, she doesn’t have to. Pin does it for her. 

Because suddenly he’s squeezing her hand tightly. When she looks up in surprise, the sight in front of her knocks the air out of her chest. 

He’s looking at her in a way she’s never seen before. There’s something incredibly vulnerable and simultaneously unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

His next words are short, but precise -- 

“What is it, exactly ,” he starts, “that you think I want?”

And there it is, again -- the same look he’d given her on the beach, that hungry , split-second one-over.

But this time, there’s none of the reservations from earlier. This is not him looking angry, scared, or confused. 

No. This is him at his best , she thinks, as she’s seen him become over the last few weeks. 

(Always -- always -- when they’re together.)

He looks like he knows exactly what he wants. Something she wants, too.

And just like that, she knows . 

Something in the back of her mind, the very thing she’s been firmly denying, finally clicks into place. She’s falling face-first down that exact rabbit hole she’d been trying to avoid all along.

( How could she have missed this?)

To be clear -- Gaby has no hang ups about this. About what might happen next.

She’s not Zoe. She can’t be.  

She knows she can’t have him. She’s okay with that, actually.

But this doesn’t work if he’s not fully in it. She has to be sure.

“Do you know what you want?” she murmurs. The words come out soft, but deadly serious.

(She needs to hear him say it, all else be damned.)

He meets her gaze, then, and something in it sends a shiver down her spine. It’s that tell-tale darkness of his, always lingering on the periphery. 

It’s a look that would probably give anyone else pause. But she likes him better for it. Always has, and probably always will.

“ Yes .” he says simply. “I know exactly what I want.”

He lets his free hand come up to her cheek, now. The motion is just slow enough that she could still back out, if she decided against it. 

But Gaby lets him draw close, until she can feel the familiar press of his calloused, work-worn hands against her cheek. 

She leans into his touch ever so slightly, then, holds it there for a moment. Watches, with satisfaction, as he follows the movement with his focused gaze.  

“Well, if you want it,” she starts slowly, carefully, “you can have it.”

(All you have to do, she thinks, is take it .)

So she lets him come to her. At first slow, hesitant, and then none of those things. 

For once, there are no audiences to cater to, no performances to put on. There’s nothing except a deep-set, inexplicable sense of relief when he presses his mouth to hers. 

He kisses her like he’s starved, the tension leaving his frame and being replaced with something else entirely . 

She’s familiar with the feeling. When you finally hit your stride, make the high jump, find yourself drowning in the heady sensation of getting it right .

This is all that and so much more . 

So she pulls him into her freely, now, wraps one hand into his hair and tugs . Not too hard, but just enough.

The effect is immediate . Pin groans breathily at the sensation, one hand coming down to grip at her waist like a vice. 

(She always figured he’d like that.)

In retribution, he pulls away from her briefly. She almost protests the sudden separation, but he simply leans back onto the mattress and pulls her onto his lap, any lingering vestiges of self-consciousness long gone. 

This, she hadn’t seen coming. Gaby has to admit, she’s impressed. 

“ That’s my boy ,” she croons, equal parts teasing and genuine. Pin’s full of surprises. 

Even better, she catches him smiling at that, a look on him that is absolutely, undeniably gorgeous. She files that memory away for later, just in case they ever have... this again.

(If not, well, this is more than enough.)

And she’s seconds away from leaning down and kissing him again, when another thought strikes her -- 

“Pin -- how long are we alone for?”

He shakes his head, then. “Not very long.”

No real shocker there. But then again, it can’t all be perfect. They’ve never had it that way.

“ Well ,” she whispers, “Better make it count , then.”

And, well, Gaby thinks later on, he certainly does.