Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Aziraphale Z. Fell had grown up around horses on a farm.  

As a kid, just like as a teenager, his whole life had been turning around horses, he had the chance to do so because his parents had their own ranch, they had horses, cows, chickens, dogs and even some sheep.   

When he was old enough to be on his own, he left to go live in the city and took the lead of his grandpa’s antique bookshop.  

He liked it for a while but when his dad died unexpectedly, he didn’t have the heart to sell the stable he inherited from him, not the place his father put everything he had into. Ever since his mother’s death, the man had been deteriorating and wasn’t able to care for the animals that were there anymore, leaving the place empty excepts for some wildlife.  

So, when he left everything, closed the bookshop and decided to go back to where he grew up, he could have sworn he was right where he was supposed to be. That it was his destiny.   

It took him a few weeks to adjust to not being in the city anymore, put his things where they were supposed to be, he kept most of the books he had in the bookshop, and he renovated the place a little bit to make it more functional.   

One day while he was searching through his parents' old stuff, he found old video tapes of him as a kid with their horses. The one he was shown with the most was his own, a little Halfinger named Honey which he learned basically everything with. They were both born the same month of the same year, so they were really close but unfortunately, he had to be put down after he fractured a leg at 28-years-old. At least he lived a great life being the most spoiled horse on the ranch.   

Seeing all of this really made him sad about the fact that the ranch didn’t have any horses anymore. The place felts almost dead now, it was pretty but it’s like there was always something missing.  

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Antony J. Crowley on his side had always had a bumpy road in the equestrian world.

The first he stopped was when he lost his heart horse, an ex-harness racer, Nebula, the one he had owned for almost five years and known for about twelve years in total. He hadn't had any other choice at the time because neither he nor his family had enough money to keep her, so he rehomed her and just wished she was getting taken care of well because he couldn’t even visit. He knew for sure that she was his heart horse, and that no other could even begin to compete with her on that. She was unique and would always be his one and only.

But after two years without horses in his life didn’t really make much sense anymore, and it was getting worse every day. He didn’t see himself doing anything after school, hadn't ever imagined himself in the future, and to be honest he didn’t think he would have one and still doubted it.

So, he went back to the only consistency he ever had in his life, horses.

Originally, he wanted to be a jumper, but it was too expensive and there wasn't any stable close enough to his house, so he went back to racing. After all, that was what the world revolved around in those days.

He wasn’t a fan of harness racing, even less with all it reminded him of, but he had always loved mounted racing, so he decided, against everyone’s opinions and better judgments, not like it ever mattered to him anyway, to get back into the horse word directly into the racing industry.

So, from all the way he could have regained contact with horses he decided that racing would be the right thing, probably because it was after all what he grew up with and he wouldn’t let it go to waste. It was pretty easy to get into in the early sixties, especially where he lived, there was almost a stable at every corner.

So that’s pretty much how it all started, and if you forget all the hard work he had to do to get where he was, some could say he got lucky to build himself up from nothing with no contact in the industry.

He became rather famous around the tracks. He was good and as unexpected as it was, he knew how to do his job and to do it right. At least mostly.

He earned the name of “The Snake” for his habit of sliding between horses to get to the front on his own during races.

It was a relatively easy job, not really associated with anyone; he just took contracts where they were. By doing that he got the chance to ride and win with some great horses but also with some less great but all great experiences and way to always make improvement.

The only time he took a long-time contract with a horse was when he accepted to do all the races of the upcoming season with rising star filly Give Me Faint, undefeated until then with eight wins in eight starts.

It was the first and only time he did because the worst happened right during that.

One day, when he was alone at the stable with a bottle of wine to celebrate their last win, people came for the horse. They held him at gun point while they kidnapped the horse, putting her in a trailer and disappearing.

They never really knew what happened to her after that, never had news. They didn't even ask for a ransom. Most people though she got killed and they were probably right.

He probably could have done something more if he hadn't been drunk off his feet. He blamed himself for it, most people did too. Some even believed he was in cahoots with the abductors.

He stopped again after that, races, horses, bets, riding. All of that he left behind and started doing small jobs here and there and he started to lose himself again for the second time.

He had gained enough money to live well, not total luxury but still great enough to have a good bunch of economies. At least that would have been if he knew how to properly spend his money instead of buying expensive useless things like his watch and sunglasses.

Now he barely had enough money to pay his rent, having spent way too much on alcohol, and he once again stopped seeing a future for himself.

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It didn't take him long after the realization that he truly wanted to bring the ranch back to life.

And that’s all it took to encourage him to repair the meadows where the fences had begun to rot or fallen apart. After about a month of hard work the place was ready to potentially welcome some horses and looking just like it did when he was just a kid.

He grew a garden and had fun just returning to his roots and just not working for a while, picking in his economies to pay what he needed to. His family had always taught him to live modestly so with his own economies as well as his parents’ he could live comfortably without working for a little while, the time he would need to get his marks back. The only things he had to pay for being electricity, food and some material to renovate the place since the land had been paid cash about thirty years ago.

That’s only when he started reexploring the town and the closest city that he discovered the racetrack. He had, of course, heard of horse racing just as much as everyone and seen it on the telly, but it was his first time seeing it in real life.

While he was passionately looking at the third race of the day another man pushed through to get to the railing and by the same time to him.

“-Which horse are you betting on?” He yelled for his voice to be heard on top of all the other noise around, turning his head toward Aziraphale. Before he could answer he was interrupted by the announcer announcing the names of the winners.

“-Winner by two length is Lean On Me followed by second Catch Me If You Can with almost nose to nose Too Soon To Celebrate. Four lengths away, ending up fourth, it was the favourite Hold On Tight, and finally in fifth place Handle With Care!” The older man took a quick glance at the small booklet in his hand frowning lightly before looking back at him still expecting an answer.

“-No one, I'm just watching.” He answered nonchalantly.

“-You’re not a regular, are you?” He asked.

“-No, no, it’s huh, my first time”

“-If you want to see some real races, come tonight. That’s when the real ones are out. They keep the bests for later.” On that he left, probably on his way to bet on the next race.

What did he have to lose anyway, he could watch some of the races now and then come back later when it would be darker outside.

He had to admit that seeing racing horses is a whole different thing from having cow horses at home, these ones are beasts. Ready to start at any moment, barely even containing themself at the starting gates and detonating as soon as the gates open and they hear the bell.

Adrenaline is heavy in the air, coming from everyone, the betters, the owners, the horses, the jockeys and even the ones that are, like him, just watching for the fun of it.

Hearing and seeing people yelling and moving their arms around with passion right at the railing is always give a certain ambience that you can’t feel anywhere else. It was definitely something.