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you must’ve been about two hundred miles till kansas city — the next stop in your long, perilous journey across the american frontier, and the finish line to the fourth stage of the steel ball run. yet, here you, and your two companions found yourself holed up in a rundown barn a couple miles from fort hay.
despite the burning urge working its way through your system, you knew it was best to stop for the night— at least for the horses sake, who were closed up in the barn along with you. their soft snorts sounded from their stalls, as you laid along the hayloft. the smell of stale hay, and the prickling of its flakes stabbing your wet, exposed arms left more to be desired.
your two companions resided on the ground floor. you gazed down lazily towards gyro, who was pacing perpendicular to the door leading out of the barn, carrying a scrunched, stained map between his hands. you could hear him curse under his breath, his brows scrunched together under a nappy, wet mess of hair — his hat long discarded.
you found it funny how his hat proved useless against the torrent you found yourselves in.
you glanced around from the loft. you didn’t see johnny anywhere. he was probably with the horses. with a sigh, you picked yourself up, and clambered down the rickety ladder attached to the loft. you were careful with your steps— your boots still slick with mud and the muck that you halfheartedly cleaned out of the stalls. gyro looked towards you, breathing a sigh through his nose.
“ ya’ seen johnny? is he with the horses?” you rasped, flicking a piece of hay from your hair.
gyro cocked a small smirk, “still worried about him, bella? he’s tougher than you think.”
you rolled your eyes, “don’t matter if you’re tough, a bullet to the head is still a bullet to the head. ‘gotta make sure he ain’t going looney on us.”
gyro stifled a laugh, map wrinkling in his hands as his body shook. your chest warmed. “i suppose you’re right.”
”woman’s intuition," you smiled, “what would you do without me?”
you didn’t mean anything by it, it was simply a joke, but by the way gyros eyes seemed to warm, the light off the lantern nearby flickering in his gaze — it said the words he couldn’t speak — you understood enough. “horses?””
”yeah,” he looked down back to the map, seemingly uninterested in it now. you turned away, not breathing another word to him.
dead. or in kansas city. his eyes spoke.
you treaded through the dusty hallways of the rundown barn, chest warm at the thought of gyro. you have made it your job to keep these boys going — a sidequest in your journey to independence. you were a woman making a name for herself, but that couldn’t stop you from making friends along the way. gyro and johnny had made the journey more perilous, but you wouldn't change it for the world.
acting as their nurse, you keep them patched up and fed. in return, they kept you protected. it was a trade, and so far it had proven beneficial, all until your run-in with ringo roadagain. just the thought of him filled your chest with dread. you had been unconscious for the most of it, but had awoken during the end of it — seeing the bloodbath that had ensured. if it wasn’t for gyro, you weren’t sure him and johnny would be alive. that, and with the help of hot pants.
you peeked into slow dancers stall, seeing the the broody mare nestled down in the stale bedding. johnny sat before her, running a dandy brush down the nape of her neck. his other hand traveled down her legs, prodding at the muscles. the appaloosa mare seemed at peace, her eyelids heavy as she dozed under his ministrations.
you knocked on the stalls doorframe to alert him to your presence, watching as the mares ears twitched before a soft, aggravated snort sounded from her. you giggled softly, “sorry, ‘dancer,”
you trekked through the shavings, making your way down to her rear, directly opposite of johnny. his blue eyes rose to meet yours, a soft question lingering in them. you sat down, “pass me your comb.”
he handed you it with his free hand. you picked up her tail, starting to comb out the tangled mess.
“gyro’s out there tryna’ figure out how to shave time tomorrow. figured i’d come bother you,” you admitted, working the comb expertly between your fingers.
“just makin’ sure she didn’t pull nuffin’,” he rasped, “all that rain— couldn’t see where she was steppin’. started walkin’ funny.”
”poor girl,” you hummed, “lucky she's got ya’ to look after her. someone all experienced.”
johnny flushed under the dim lighting, the lantern hanging from the door growing dim. you’d have to check your saddle bag and see if you have more oil. you were growing low— this trek between colorado to kansas having been brutal on your supplies. you all had to get to kansas city tomorrow.
you looked over to the mares owner, watching the way his lashes fluttered when he looked down to the temperamental mare. when you first met her, she had been a absolute menace to you. you ran a hand down her hindquarter. “hard to believe shes all sweet — remember back in colorado, when i tried to ride her that one morning?”
johnny smiled, shaking his head, “hard to forget, think she sent ya’ about two feet in tha’ air.”
“i think i was about up in the trees,” you agreed, giggling softly, “think she's sweet on me now, whatchu’ think?”
“ya’ honestly wanna know what i think?”
you nodded, quirking an eyebrow with a grin.
his gaze rose to meet yours, and silence fell over the two of you. the only sound present was the rain pattering across the roof, along with valkyrie whinnying softly from the stall over. you huffed softly, your chest growing warm. he didn’t have to say anything — his point had been communicated.
”you’re silly,” you dropped the comb, reaching into your pocket to pull out a hair tie, putting yourself back to the task at hand, albeit with trembling hands. his sultry gaze didn’t leave your mind, despite the way you buried your attention into slow dancers flaxen tail. he chuckled softly, cheeks rosey.
”ain’t nuffin’ that ain’t true,” he rumbled. you parted the tail into three sections, and ran a braid down the locks, tying it up at the end with your hair tie.
“there,” you huffed, “all tied up and pretty.”
slow dancer flicked an ear lazily over to you, and snorted. you handed johnny back his comb, before hopping over her hindquarters, and laying your back up against her belly. she flicked her tail.
johnny, having finished what he was doing, shimmied over to join you. slow dancer snorted, flopping her head onto the ground. offering a shoulder, you curled up into his side comfortably, before turning to face him.
his gaze met yours wordlessly, and you offered a reassuring smile, “let me have a look at that head of yours.”
his eyebrows creased, “ya’ ain't gotta worry ‘bout that. i’m fine.”
you steadied a glare with him, matching his equally.
when you first met johnny, you had immediately noticed the look in his eyes– how he steeled himself with that hot, burning determination that would flare up in his eyes. stubbornness too, you would come to realize the more you traveled with the two.
stuck in their own way, you had first thought of the two. you still do, but they had warmed up to your presence quickly, despite gyro’s initial disdain– claiming you would hinder their luck.
“fine,” johnny huffed, “but ya’ wasting your time.”
“ain't no waste for you, johnny-boy,” you smiled, causing him to erupt into a heavy blush. with gentle hands, you peeled back his beanie, and brushed away the hair from his temples. his eyes fluttered shut during this. you gently brushed the pads of your fingers across his frontal bone, and down to the temporal bone.
it was still by some miracle johnny laid before you. your hands started to tremble against his warm skin. letting out a weak puff of air, you pressed your digits in the soft skin, rubbing soft circles into his temples, down around his ear, and into the apex of his cheek bones. the skin after using cream starter had been exceptionally squishy, but now it seemed to blend into his seamlessly. as if it didn't happen. as if you didn't wake to see johnny lying lifeless, face full of bullet holes.
you closed your eyes, and for a moment, your hands stilled in their ministrations. you felt the clawing, choking grasp of fear grabbing hold of you– it's ugly claws ripping shreds of you from where you sat. you jolted slightly when you felt johnny's hands on you, replacing those cold, invisible hands as he pulled you closer to him. you easily gave in, falling into his form, curling back up into his side.
you didn't open your eyes. he brushed your hair back behind your ear, picking out a straw piece of straw that was sticking out. his hands were warm, you thought. warm and calloused, just as your expected. just as you knew.
“let me get a look at you,” he whispered softly, his breath fanning against your face gently. trembling, you opened your watery eyes to meet his. you watched as he bit his lip, stuck in-between knowing and wanting to say something.
“you okay, doll?” he whispered, “you’s always taking care of us– did we forget about you?”
you swallowed thickly, “just thought i’d lose you. both you and gyro. i feel almost pathetic that i couldn't have helped during that moment– if i could have done more, i-”
he shook his head softly, causing your rambling to still, “at what risk? your pretty life over ours? hardly seems fair. i ain't got nothin’ to lose,” he gestured down to his legs, “already done lost it.”
you looked up, trying to still the tears that were dripping down your face. you felt yourself choke up, “now, don't you say that about yourself, johnny.”
“ain't said nothin’ that ain't true,” he drawls, reminding you.
“you gotta win this. you gotta win this, and with gyro’s help, we can get you right. i mean, i’ve seen what the two of you can do, and it really don't make any sense to me– so what's stopping you from gettin’ any better?” you mumbled, meeting his eyes once more. his eyebrows dipped down, and he seemed to almost pout. you hated he had to see you like this. it broke your pride, and left you in tiny, microscopic pieces – yet here he was, willing to pick those very pieces back up. it infuriated you, yet, you couldn't help the longingness that lingered in your chest. the loneliness that clung to your bones every night you tucked yourself into your bedroll, or the wanting to impress the two of them – to make them think, “that's our girl.”
how come you had changed so much? wanting to impress yourself, and make a name for yourself – america's independent woman. see, women can do it too!
but now, it has changed. you wanted to be their woman. shared between the two, in a perfect, loving and harmonious bundle. you wanted to win, but the need for them to shine surpassed any of your own needs.
seeing johnny walk again, or getting that troubled look out of gyro’s eyes – you would do about anything to see those two realities meet.
the way johnny looked at you now, you think he may feel the same way too. maybe he too, wanted you to be that strong, independent woman. did he want you to himself, too? could he feel that selfish pull between you two?
you settled back down against him chest, curling up into his side comfortably. his hand trailed down your back, rubbing soft patterns through the skin of your shirt.
selfish. “everythin’ will be alright. we gonna get to kansas city ‘morrow, and before ya’ know it we'll be in manhattan,” he rumbled, “but between now and then, we gotta keep each other goin’. can't be stoppin’ for nothin’.”
“i know, johnny. you know i’m with you.”
the sound of thunder shook the barn, causing the horses to stir. slow dancers' legs twitched, and johnny instinctively reached his free hand around to rub her forearm soothingly. she settled back down easily.
he turned his attention back to you, yet you kept your eyes closed as you rested against him, “i know it's gonna get worse too. feels like somethin’ is going wrong every other day,” you rumbled.
he laughed softly, his chest bouncing with effort, causing you to grin, “that sounds about right. it's gonna be alright though. we all got each other.”
we all got each other. you could feel yourself lulling off– eyes heavy with exhaustion. when was the last time you rested so comfortably? sharing a spot with another person– you could get used to this. this companionship, your heart squeezed.
soon enough, you were drifting off, leaving johnny to his lonesome. slow dancer wasn't any help, she was long pasted out- her chest rising in soft, huffy snores. he glanced back down to you, and your mess of hair that tickled his jaw. he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.
everything will be alright. he had to convince himself. had to do it for your sake, as he looked up to the roof, listening to the heavy striking of the rain. must've been hailing now too, from the ugly sounds of it.
perhaps here, in this stall, with you laid up so prettily beside him, he would be alright- despite the fear that strangled his heart, and the uncertainties of the road before you all. he had to maintain that bravado, but maybe now, he can be at peace. just for a little bit- as he let out a shaky, stuttering breath. the trembling fear that shook his hands seemed to rattle against your clueless form. a little secret; a man that's not as brave as he seemed.
that's something for only him and the rain to know.