Chapter Text
It is an unusually bright day in Overton. The sky, most days perpetually overcast and heavy with rain, is completely clear and blue– almost as though it’s compensating for the darkness that seems to lurk around every corner in town. Even so, the streets and sidewalks are nearly empty. Perhaps it’s not surprising so few people are out to enjoy the sun.
Not when there was a murder two days ago.
But not everyone is deterred. Least of all a girl striding purposefully at the edge of the village, down a well-worn dirt path in the direction of the stables. A bad idea to be out on her own? Maybe, but bad ideas have never stopped her before. Fallen orange and yellow leaves crunch beneath her shoes as she walks.
Though she has taken this specific path dozens of times since first arriving in Overton, this is the first time she actually feels nervous. Anxiety twists her gut, making her question every other step she takes, but she continues on, determined to tamp it down. There’s nothing to worry about, she tells herself over and over. You’re being stupid.
Interestingly enough, that doesn’t help quell the feeling.
She hasn’t actually seen Eli since the news about his brother broke– no one has, as far as she knows. Part of her had wanted to come find him as soon as it had happened. The other part, perhaps the more logical part, had argued against that, and won out in the end. She’s learned quite a lot in the few months she’s lived here, and one thing she was taught very early on is that when Eli Bray is having big feelings, he really prefers to be left alone. Right now, he’s probably having the biggest feelings of his life. That’s why she’s finally decided to try and find him– and it’s typically a sure bet he’ll be in the stables.
Yes, he’d likely rather be alone, but she knows from her own experiences with grief that the last thing someone should do is isolate themselves– especially in the wake of such a sudden, violent loss. She’s given him his space, time to start to process, but now it simply doesn’t seem right to leave him to stew.
She approaches the stable, a slightly worn but ultimately well-kept building, and pauses just in front of the door. The smell of hay, horses, and leather is strong, but she’s always found it strangely pleasant. After another moment of consideration, she shoulders the door open and steps inside. The worst that can happen is he tells her off because he really would rather be by himself. No need to worry. And anyway, he might not even be here.
The dirt floor is covered with straw that has come loose from bales over time, which are stacked high to the left of the door. Horses watch her from their stalls– but it doesn’t seem like there are any other people here. She’s about to turn to leave when she hears the clatter of something being dropped and a string of grumbled curses.
About halfway down the row of stalls, one of the doors is open. Bingo.
She carefully approaches the open door and peeks inside. Eli is there, combing Crowley. The horse seems incredibly unimpressed as every few strokes, the brush slips from Eli’s slightly shaky hands and falls to the floor, resulting in more cursing under his breath. He looks… not great. His messy curls, always slightly unkempt, are even wilder than usual, like he’s been running his hands through them– something he often does, when he’s deep in thought. That green hoodie he regularly wears is fairly dirty. All his clothes are, actually. She wonders if he’s showered, or even changed, since it happened.
Gently, she raps her knuckles against the stall. Immediately Eli’s shoulders tense.
“Don’t,” he mutters sullenly as he glances over at her, before she can even say a word. “I don’t want pity.” It seems like there’s the beginnings of a bruise around his left eye.
“I’m not here to pity you.”
That gives him pause. “Then why are ya here?”
She shrugs. “I thought maybe you would want some company.”
“I don’t.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
Eli doesn’t answer for a long moment, suddenly seeming to find Crowley’s matted hair more interesting than her. The horse snorts at him. Finally, he sighs. “If you’re gonna hang around, might as well make yourself useful, city girl.” He shoves a brush in her hands unceremoniously, deliberately ignoring how their fingers lightly touch as he does. “Got a knot in his tail.”
That’s about as close as he will ever get to saying ‘I want you here.’ In fact, for Eli, it’s practically a love confession.
They work in silence for a while. Eli’s hands seem to steady just a bit; maybe because she’s here now, or maybe just because he’s actually gotten into the flow of things. She chooses to believe it’s the latter, but a small part of her hopes it’s the former. Every few minutes, Eli mutters under his breath about how she’s getting in the way, as though he’s not the one deliberately standing closer to her than he needs to.
“Crowley likes you,” he says abruptly. “You… you’re good with the grumpy horses.”
She’s quiet for several seconds, trying to absorb the fact that it sounds like he just gave her a compliment. “And grumpy people,” she teases lightly.
Eli’s brows furrow. “Shuddup,” he mutters, but it lacks any genuine annoyance. In fact, she could swear she sees the ghost of a smile flicker across his face, gone as quickly as it came. “S’lucky he didn’t kick your face off. Probably would've, if you were anyone else.”
“I suppose he doesn’t think I’m worth the effort.”
“Or, y’know… he actually likes you.” Eli glances at her briefly before returning his attention to a particularly stubborn tangle in Crowley’s dark mane. The gelding huffs, as if in agreement.
Are they still talking about horses?
She gives Crowley a gentle pat on his hindquarters, which earns her a soft whicker of approval and a flick of his ears. His large brown eyes meet hers. He blinks slowly at her.
“See? Means he likes ya. Case closed.”
A comfortable silence falls between them. Eli continues to work at a persistent snarl in Crowley’s hair, seemingly determined to avoid eye contact.
“I know you don’t want pity,” she starts. Already, she can see Eli stiffening. “I know you don’t, but… but I truly am sorry about Cal.”
For a breath of a moment, everything is completely still. Even the horses seem aware of the tension.
Then Eli sighs, resting his forehead against Crowley’s strong neck and closing his eyes. “...Thanks.” A beat. Then– “I was… supposed to protect him.”
She doesn’t know how to respond to that in any way that matters. It isn’t like words could make it better, anyway. Nothing can. So she does the only thing she can think of.
She strides over to him and pulls him into a hug. He almost pushes her away instinctively, but then relaxes against her. It takes a handful of seconds for him to hug her back, arms loosely wrapping around her. Eli takes a shuddering breath by her ear.
“Are you going to be okay?” Dumb question.
“I don’t know.” Reasonable answer.
It feels like forever before they pull apart. The moment he steps back, Eli averts his gaze to stare at the horse, but not before she sees the slight wetness of his eyes. He clears his throat roughly. Still not actually looking at her, he gruffly says, “I.. am glad you came by. I did need the company.”
When it comes to Eli Bray, that’s the equivalent of him dropping to one knee and proposing.
“What?”
“I’m not sayin’ it again, city girl. Don’t go gettin’ a big head.”
“Too late.” In spite of it all, she chuckles.
Eli scoffs… but he’s smiling. Just barely. “Look, uh…” He starts. Crowley rests his large head on Eli’s shoulder with a snort, brown eyes wide. “Oi, ya big lug–” he mutters, but doesn’t try to move him. “Anyway. As I was sayin’, before I was interrupted. I know you got places to be or somethin’... but… if you wanted to. Er. You could stay a bit longer. This furry bastard’ll appreciate another set of hands to give him attention.” The horse stomps his hoof indignantly.
“...Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
So she does.