Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a brisk late-summer morning when Scars alarm went off.  After letting it ring for 30 seconds, lazily covering his head with a pillow, he finally rolled over to grab the phone that was buzzing on his nightstand.  Luckily the bunk house, where he stayed while on grounds, was almost empty aside from the bottom bunk parallel to his, where Mumbo was laying.  Despite the mustached man's head being a mere few feet from where Scar’s alarm was just blaring, he was still sleeping like a rock.  That man could truly sleep through anything.  Scar turned off his alarm and checked the time.

7:01am, his phone read.

Dang it, Scar thought to himself, I promised Bdubs I’d help him work with his new project horse today.

After sluggishly dragging himself out of bed he changed into his barn clothes, nothing special, just a worn pair of jeans and a green-and-tan button-up flannel shirt, before heading to the barn.  

The barn wasn't far from the bunk house, about a 5 minute walk on the dirt road that ran through the rodeo grounds. That would take you right up to the front of the old thing.  And an old thing it was.  The barn had to be at least 50 years old.  It was sturdy, with rough cut dark wood, and the typical large sliding door on the front.  Even though the outside looked rather aged, the inside had a rather new feeling.  Wooden panel stalls lined both sides as Scar walked in.  He could tell his brother had already fed and took care of the horses this morning as he could hear the happy munching of the several horses that were in the barn at this time.  Not all the horses were in, but that was typical.  It was very rare that all the horses were in at one time.  Between alternating turnout times for the creatures, and horses like Ghost and Gluestick that were needed to move stock in the mornings, the stalls were almost never all full at once.  After walking about half way through the barn he finally spotted the shorter man, hay sticking out of his hair every which way.  He was in a stall brushing a stocky bay mare.  

“Well, look who finally decided to show up.”  Bdubs said when he noticed his brother walking up to the stall he was working in.

“Sorry Bdubs, I forgot to set my alarm earlier.” Scar said, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Ok then sleeping beauty, if you're not too sleepy, I already have Lullaby tacked up and tied out on the hitching post.  I figured you could ride her while I work with Crastle on the trail.”  Bdubs said, exiting the stall to get a saddle to use on the new project horse.  “I just need an extra set of eyes in case something happens, ya know, just in case.” 

Lullaby was the epitome of the perfect trail horse.  Anyone could ride her.  Bdubs had poured his entire soul into that mare and her training since he got her.  She was his first project.  She was a pretty sad, but pretty typical find at the first auction Scar and Bdubs had ever gone to.  Her mane and tail matted from neglect and her beautiful dun coloration was hidden under a coat of mud.  She shied from the hand he tried to offer her direction.  Bdubs refused to leave her there.  After winning the auction to buy her, he took her home and showed her what it meant to be loved.  Brushing her til she shown like a glassy lake under a perfectly gray sky.  She didn't shy from his touch as she did at the auction house.  She knew she was home.  She might let anyone ride her, but she was Bdubs' horse, and Bdubs was her person.  

“Sure, sure.  I got you.”  Scar says before walking out the other side of the barn to see the grullo mare stood at the hitching post.  

He patted the mare on the neck before moving back to focus his attention on the stirrups.  In no world would Scar ever try to fit in Bdubs stirrups where he has them.  After moving the stirrups 8 holes down on each side, he steps back to look and see if they appeared even.  Sure enough they do.  Not that there isn't a chance they feel completely wrong once he gets on, but that was a later problem.  Shortly after he got his stirrups seemingly handled, Bdubs was walking out the barn with his prospect in hand.  

“I messed with your stirrups.” Informing his brother.

“Did you memorize where they gotta go back to?” He questioned.

“Yep, all the way up for your little legs.”  Scar teased.  

“They most certainly do not!”  The shorter man defended. “You take that back!”

“Yes I remember where they go back,”  He said laughing at his brother's big reaction, “I couldn't ride with your stirrups if I wanted to.  I’d look like I was getting ready for the Kentucky Derby.” 

“Just because you have longer legs than me does not mean I have short legs.”  He says with a sort of finality, gathering his reins and swinging himself onto Crastle's back.

“Whatever you say, man.”  Scar unties Lullaby from the hitch and follows suit.  “Lead the way, little brother.”

*~~~~~~~~~*

It had been a while since Scar had a horse of his own.  Her name was Minnie, and she was his heart horse.  She passed away 2 years ago, on a mid-winter night.  He was crushed.  That mare, his mare, the creature that had taught him everything that there was to know about caring for and riding horses, was gone.  For a year after her passing, Scar refused to go with Bdubs to the barn, a place he used to love, but he knew there was nothing for him there anymore.  

It wasn't until he started to worry about his brother handling the animals on his own that he finally brought himself to go back.  Though there was almost always someone around the grounds if something were to happen, it wasn't a guarantee.   The rodeo grounds was a busy place, everyone going all different ways.  There was always the chance that something could happen and no one would find Bdubs til it was too late.  So, Scar dragged himself along to the grounds one day.  

He would help Bdubs with his projects the best he could.  After his brother was confident in the horses training he would let his brother ride them.  Deep down he really hoped that Scar would click with one of the horses he had trained.  That Scar could finally have that special bond again.  The bond between a person and their horse is one far stronger than most people will ever experience.  It’s different then the bond you would have from your cat or your dog.  It's a mutual trust that is earned over time.  And it was obvious that he missed it.  But no matter how many horses Bdubs got trained and let Scar ride, none of them were what he lost that mid-winter night.

*~~~~~~~~~*

The ride was pretty quiet so far, well, other than constant bickering that occurred whenever the brothers would ride together.  But, both horses were behaving well, though Scar expected nothing less from the sweet girl he was riding.  He was more impressed with how Bdubs was doing with his new horse.  He had been working with Crastle for about a month now, and has already made so much progress.  When he first got her, the bay mare was quite the handful; constantly pushing her limits to see what the man would let her get away with.  But, for every stubborn horse there's a strong willed, stubborn man who can be just as bullheaded.  And, folks, that man is Bdubs.

They had ridden about a mile out when they came to the creek.  The entry point was hidden between two trees, bushes and shrubs thriving being so close to a source of water.  The edge of it was about 2 or 3 feet high and about a 55 degree slant down into the shallow water.  The bed was lined with smooth round rocks, some large, some small, that the water would trickle over.  It was always a good place to go to get horses used to the idea of crossing water.  Scar had ridden Lullaby out here many times, always leading the way into the water to show whatever new horse that the water was safe.  Sliding down the edge of the creek he could tell it was a little muddy, but nothing they hadn't ridden in before.  After a little coaxing, Bdubs finally got Crastle in, also sliding down the muddy bank.

“Good job, sweetheart!”  Bdubs praise the horse.  “That bank was a little slicker than I thought, but it should be fine.”  He asked his horse to go in a little farther so her hooves were fully submerged in the slowly running water, patting her neck as reassurance that she was doing well.  

“Yeah, I noticed that coming down.”  He also leaned over to rub his mounts neck.

“Look at how good my babies are!”  Bdubs gloated with pride, looking at Scar who had Lullaby standing quietly at the one side of the stream, giving him and Crastle room to work. 

“They’re saints, Bdubs,” Scar chuckled. “Their owner however…” 

“Hey! Very freaking funny.” Bdubs snapped playfully. “You wait til I teach her to splash, then you'll be sorry!”

“I’m sure I will.” Scar couldn't help but grin.

They didn't spend too much time in there, Bdubs didn't want to overwhelm the horse by pushing her too far on her first time crossing water, so he turned her back towards the way they got in and let her climb out.  She didn’t have too much trouble getting up the muddy bank, but it was more than the horses normally do.  

Scar turned Lullaby to follow suit and she started up the bank.  She was doing fine until she lost her footing, toppling to the side as her feet folded under her, sending Scar’s leg to bash against one of the trees beside the bank.  She tried to regain her footing but only slipped more, causing him to lose his stirrup in the commotion.  Trying to cling to the horn, Scar pulled the mare's head up to get her feet under her, which thank goodness worked.  The grullo horse was then able to stabilize herself enough to hoist her body the rest of the way up the bank in one big heave.  Unfortunately, as the horse jerked forwards, he became massively aware of his lack of stirrups.  As the horse pulled herself from the creek,  Scar fell backwards, landing hard on his side in the rocky bed of the stream.  

Bdubs didn't realize Scar hadn't made it up the bank until he heard a splash and saw his other mare steady herself on the dry ground above the entry point.  

“Scar!” He cried out, getting no answer as he rushed back over to the edge.  He saw the other man laying in the water on his side.  He rushed to dismounted and tied his horse to a tree and hurried down into the creek.  

“Scar, come on dude, say something!” He knelt in the water by Scars side, trying to get him to say something.  Nothing.  The fall had knocked him out.  

No, no, no, no, Bdubs thought to himself, doing his best to get the larger man out of the water and back up the bank.  

After dragging him back up the bank and laying him gently down in the lush grass, Bdubs pulled his phone out to call for help.  He called Cleo, knowing that they would be around and probably would be his best bet at someone answering the phone.  The phone rang twice before he heard a voice on the other line.

“Hello?”

“Cleo! I need help!”  Bdubs was frantic.  “Scar fell off of Lull at the creek. He's not waking up, I don't know what to do.  I can’t get him back onto her to take him back! I can’t lift him up that hig-” 

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down Dubs,”  Cleo said from the other line.  “I’m going to grab the grounds’ truck and drive over to get you guys, just take some deep breaths and stay with your brother, I will be there as fast as I can.”

“Okay, okay,” he panted, trying to breathe. “I’ll stay with him, you’re on your way.”  He restated over the phone, more to remind himself.

“Yes, hang tight, I’m coming,” He heard the door of the ancient farm truck open and close on the other line.  “Keep talking to me, how did he fall?  Did you see how he landed? Is he bleeding anywhere?”

“I wasn't looking, he was taking Lull back up the bank.  His leg is cut up real bad, but I don't see any blood coming from his head.”  He said, failing to calm his ragged breathing. “I think she slipped and he lost his balance and fell back into the water.  I was able to get him out of the water, but not back onto the horse.”

“Ok, don't move him anymore, if it's spinal, moving him more could cause more damage.  You made the right call getting him out of the water, drowning is the worse of those two evils.”  Cleo directed, their phone picking up the low rumble of the vehicle she was driving.  “The truck has a backboard in it for emergencies.  Are the horses still with you?”

“Yes, I tied Crastle to a tree when I noticed Lull came out of the creek riderless.  And Lull has ground tied herself since she got off of the bank.”  Bdub informed as his hand shook the phone next to his ear.  Crap, how are we gonna get the horses back. We are a mile out and there is no way we are gonna be able to get them back with the truck because we need to rush Scar back to the hospital.  He thought, before he heard Cleo's voice on the other end of the line.

“Ok, Dubs, I need you to tie Lull with Crastle so she doesn't wander.  I'm letting Skizz and Impulse know where they are.  They just finished moving stock onto the hill pasture.  They are gonna come get the horses and take them back.”  She delegated as if she had heard his thoughts.  

He did as he was told and tied his sweet mare next to the bay he had been working with before everything started to fall apart. Then he sat back next to Scar, bringing his knees to his chest, still clutching the phone to his ear.  “She’s tied, I'm sitting next to Scar.” He reported, squeezing his legs with his free arm.

“Ok, I’m almost there.  I should see you any second.”  They kept their voice steady, despite everything that was happening.  “I’m going to hang up and call Skizz, I will see you in a couple seconds.”

“Ok,” he breathed out with slight relief as he could hear the engine of the truck approaching.  “Ok, thank you, Mom.”

“Of course, Bdubs.”

Chapter Text

The first thing Scar was aware of was the harsh, rhythmic beeping. He scrunched his face, testing the muscles before blinking his eyes open.   Slowly coming to his senses, he takes in his surroundings.  Blank white walls burn his newly opened eyes.  He was in the hospital.  Head aching as the world around him began to spin slightly.  As he scans the room his eyes land on the scruffy man sitting in the chair beside his hospital bed.  His head was in his hands looking down, feet planted on the floor, giving Scar a good look at just how much hay was still in his brother's hair.  

“Dubs?”  Scars voice rasped, turning his head to try and look at the man sitting beside him, causing his vision to start spinning more, not appreciating his movements.  

“Scar,”  Bdubs voice is soft as he lifts his head and shifts towards the man laying in the bed.  “You're up.”  His eyes started to shine with tears, as he smiled weakly.

Scar grunted, trying to clear his throat, “I never fixed your stirrups.”

The smaller man chuckles through tears, “That's alright man, I’ll fix them later.”

“All the way up?” 

“All the way up.”  Bdubs caves, wiping a tear from his cheek messily with his hoodie sleeve, leaving a small streak of dirt in its wake.  

“For your little legs.”  Scars voice still rough from involuntary sleep, slipping out an airy laugh.

“I'm gonna message Cleo and tell her you're awake.”  He pulled his phone out and typed out the message, sending it to the other.

“What happened?”  Scar questioned, rubbing his head trying to get his vision to stop swirling.

“Stay still, would ya!  What do you remember?”

“I remember leaving the barn, riding to the creek, Lull was having a tough time getting up the bank.  Then I'm not sure, if I had to guess, I’d say I didn't stay in the saddle.”

“You fell off, into the creek, and somewhere along the line, you took a beating to your leg.”  Bdubs informed.  “Doc says you likely have a concussion too.  There’s no way you didn’t hit your head when you landed with how uneven that creek bed is. But the scans didn’t show a spinal injury.” 

That would explain why the world feels like a merry-go-round, Scar thought to himself, not wanting to alarm Bdubs.   He looked rough.  Bags formed under his eyes, and lines pleated into his face, making him look far older than he was.  

“How long have I been out?”  Scar asked, knowing his brother wouldn’t have left his side since he's been here.  

“A day and a half, I think.”  

“You should get some sleep.”  Scar pressed, closing his eyes in hopes of easing his pounding head.  “You messaged Cleo, they should be here soon, so why don't you go home and take a nap.  And for goodness sake, please wash your hair.  It looks like you have half the hayloft up there.”

“I’m not tired,” Bdubs countered, still not wanting to leave Scars side.  “And my hair has the normal amount of hay in it, thank you very much.”

“At least close your eyes in that chair, you can hold my hand to make sure I won’t walk out on you.”  Scar gently slides his hand in his brother's direction, an amused smile faint on his lips.

“You better freaking not.”  Bdubs snickered slightly, reluctantly taking Scars hand and leaning back in the chair he was in.  “Fine, but just because you asked me too.  It's not because I'm tired, not even a little bit.”  He yawned mid sentence.

“Nope, not sleepy at all.”  Scar rolled his eyes.  

Bdubs was not one to miss sleep.  He was the biggest advocate for taking naps, he always had a rather strict bedtime, and he took pride in getting a full night's rest.  You would never see that man with bags under his eyes.  Scar knew that if Bdubs was missing sleep, something was up.  What had happened to him after he fell off that horse?  It wasn't until the door to his room opened that he was pulled from his thoughts.  Cleo stood in the doorway, quietly entering the room, being careful to not let the door slam, which Scar was grateful for.

“Hey, Scar.  How are you feeling?”  Cleo’s voice was calm, gentle, like she was talking to a scared animal, trying not to frighten it away.  

“Groggy, my head hurts, the world is slightly spinning.”  Scar answered honestly, looking to his side to the man that was still holding his hand.  

Bdubs was out, hand still loosely around Scars.  The stress lines fading from his face as sleep overtook his body.  He knew he was tired.  His brother never has been a good liar.  

“Good, he’s finally asleep.”  Cleo said, briefly turning her attention to the man sleeping in the chair.  “I’ve been trying to get him to go home and sleep since we got here.”  They sighed, before gingerly sitting on the edge of Scars bed.  

“I think going home would stress him out more.  If he hadn’t said my leg took a beating, I would’ve invited him to lay with me in bed.  When he used to get nightmares, I would let him climb in bed with me.  Haven’t seen him this sleepless since those nights.”  He stretches toward the big red button, but wasn’t able to reach it without having to drop the hand in his.  “They should know I’m awake, can you hit that for me?”

Cleo nodded, leaning to press the button next to the bed.  “Fair enough, but once he wakes up, I don't care if I have to carry him kicking and screaming, he's getting a shower.”  She said with a gentle firmness and a slight smile.  

Scar chuckled to himself at the image of Cleo’s built frame hauling Bdubs over their shoulder, much to his chagrin.  While Cleo wasn’t their biological mom, she had been there for them in ways no one has been in a long time.  Since the boys started at the rodeo grounds, Cleo was always working to keep them out of trouble.  She was always there if something went wrong.  She was always there when something went right.  And in turn, Cleo got really used to hearing, “Mom, watch this!”  Whatever followed that exclamation would vary WIDELY.  But regardless, the brothers were forever grateful for them.  Especially in moments like this.  

“Grian’s been asking about you.”  Cleo said, leaning to pluck a strand of hay out of Bdubs hair.  “He tried to come in and see you, but the nurses wouldn't let him in.  ‘Only family’ they told him.  Hell, they barely let me in.  It took Bdubs 20 straight minutes of convincing them that I was the closest thing to family you guys have.  He was this close to forging adoption papers.”  Cleo holds her fingers up as if pinching the air.  

“Do you think they’d let him in now that I'm aware?”  Scar asked, a faint flush spreading over the bridge of his nose.  

“Possibly,”  They said, turning their attention back to the man laying in the bed.  “Now that you’re up, I don't see any reason why they wouldn't.  Do you want me to text him, let him know you’re awake?”

“Yes please.”  He said, a little too hastily, reaching slowly to itch his nose with the hand he was sharing with his brother.  Despite the movement, Bdubs didn't stir.  He hasn't stirred since he fell asleep in that chair next to Scar.  Stubborn, persistent, headstrong Bdubs, always trying to take care of everyone but himself.  

Cleo pulled her phone from her pocket to type out the message before sending it with a tap.  There was a sudden knock on the door, before a man in a white doctor’s robe with short black hair entered.  

“Hello folks, I’m Dr. Cub, I’m glad to see you are awake.  It’s Scar, correct?”  The doctor introduced himself.

“Yep, that's me.”  He said with faux cheerfulness, to try and disguise new found dread that entered him when the doctor walked in.  

“Alrighty, Scar.  Your brother tells me you had a nasty fall off a horse.”  He said, loosely holding a clipboard and pen.  “Can you tell me what you remember of what happened that morning?” 

“Well, I remember leaving the barn and riding to the creek.  We took our horses down the bank, into the shallow water,” he motioned to the sleeping man in the chair next to him, “He took his horse up first and I followed, but my horse slipped and lost her balance.” The events of that morning start to rush back to him all at once.  “I think she toppled to the side into the tree by the entry point.  I must have lost my stirrup in the madness, because when she finally regained her footing, she went up the bank, and I did not.”  

“Ok, then,”  The doctor briefly scribbled something on his clipboard before looking back at Scar.  “Would you like them to stay for the news?”  He motions to Cleo and Bdubs, Cleo still stilling on the bed at his side, and Bdubs still sound asleep.

“Yeah, Doc,”  Scar said with finality, looking at the two people that say to each side of him, “They’re my family.”

“No problem.”  He looked down at his clipboard before he started talking again in a very practiced voice.  “That tree really dinged you up good.  It shredded a lot of the muscle in the leg and tore nearly every tendon in your knee.  We did what we could for you when you came in, but based on the extent of the damage, the possibility of you using that leg again normally is slim.  Especially as the scar tissue forms around the reconstructed sites.  Though that will be looked into more as you go through physical therapy.”  

That was when it all came crashing down, it all became real.  Until this moment, Scar could have convinced himself that this was all just a dream.  He hadn’t woken up yet to help Bdubs work the horses.  He hadn’t ridden Lull down the muddy bank.  He hadn’t fallen off.  But the weight behind the doctor's words made it real.  Everything he knew of his life was crashing down around him, leaving him surrounded by heaps of rubble.  This can't be happening.  Please, say this isn't happening.  

“Now that you are awake, we still have a few tests we need to run.   But, I will give you folks a moment before the nurses come back in.”  The doctor's voice softened a bit, “I’m very sorry.”  

Cleo had turned to look at Scar, whose eyes had started to well up with tears.  They leaned down and wrapped their arms around him, he did the same in turn, though he didn't dare drop Bdub’s hand.  He held her as tight as he could, letting out soft sobs into her shoulder through her curly red locks.  

*~~~~~~~~~*

Scar spent the next few days in the hospital, nurses checking on him every so often, running tests and scans to ensure he would be safe to go home once released.  In his entire time at the hospital, he was never alone.  Even when Cleo finally convinced Bdubs to go home to shower and sleep, they made sure to stay with him until Grian showed up.  While Grian stayed with him, they passed time talking or making up games, anything to keep Scars mind off of the situation at hand.  Grian was good at that.

Grian and Scar had been friends since G had started rodeoing.  Pearl had been trying to get him to ride rodeo for years.  When she finally dragged him to the grounds, he fell in love with it.  Moving his Arabian Mustang mare, Pretty Bird, onto the grounds only solidified his choice to rodeo more.  Their first meeting was when Scar was looking for someone to trail ride with him and Minnie, Grian volunteered, and they just clicked.  Conversation flowed so naturally between the two of them, never having a dull moment.  The two of them alone, during all of their time of friendship, had probably ridden 1000 miles worth of trails together.  They had some of their best conversations on horseback.  After this fiasco, would he even want to go back to riding rodeo?

How was this going to affect us?  What if I can never ride again?  What if we could never hit the trails again together?  And if I could, would I?  Or would the fear of something happening again stop me from the life I used to love?  Scar spiraled, sitting in his hospital bed, awaiting Grain to take his turn for the game of Uno that Cleo had brought up for them.  Is this going to be the end of my rodeo career?  Or worst, the end of the one friendship that I hold most dear?

“Your turn, Scar.”  Grian’s voice tore him from his thoughts, as he rushed to gain his composure and place a card.  “You doing alright?” 

“Oh, yeah, yeah,”  Scar waves indistinctly at the bag of liquid attached to him, “They have pain killers or something or other in the IV drippy thingy.”  

“No, Scar.  I mean like, mentally.”  Grian placed another card, making Scar draw two more, before giving him a soft look of concern.  “You’ve been distant.  I know this has been hard, I can't even imagine what has been going through your head with all this.  I guess I just wanna say, I’m here if you wanna talk about it.”

Scar sucked in a breath before letting out a sigh, knowing he had been found out.  “I just…  I don’t know.”

“We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.”  Grian laid another card on top of the plus two before looking back to Scar.

“No, it’s ok.  I need to talk about it.”  He let his hand fall exposing his cards, but Grian didn’t say anything.  This game was pretty much over anyway, nine rounds of Uno is more than enough for anyone, no matter how bored you are.  “I’m just, I don't know what I'm gonna do.  My rodeo career might be over before I even find a horse again.  And if I could find a horse, what’s gonna stop me from chickening out at the idea of riding again.  This happened on the most capable, reliable horse to ever walk the rodeo grounds.”  He motioned with the hand that held his card to his leg, though it was covered with a blanket.  “If this can happen on Lullaby, it can happen on any horse, no matter the training.”

“Scar, slow down.”  Grian put down the cards in his hand to grab Scar’s free hand,  meeting his eyes.  “You are still a long way off of riding again, if or when that does happen, we can decide those things.  Your feelings and emotions on it right now are skewed.  You're in the thick of it at the moment.  You just need to take it one step at a time.  And that first step is getting out of here and through recovery.”  He squeezes his hand reassuringly.  “Plus, I’m not letting you come to cheer me and Birdie on until your leg is no longer at risk of infection.  And that’s a promise, buddy.”  Grian smiled warmly at the man laying in the bed, face looking to be contemplating his words.  

“Your right,” Scar exhaled, finally setting his cards down with Grian’s.  “You’re always right.”  Scar looked back at the smaller man, his light brown hair falling softly around his face.  

“I try.”  He says light-heartedly, causing the injured man to giggle quietly.  

Scars head had been bugging him since he’d been at the hospital.  Dr. Cub was eventually able to diagnose it as a concussion.  But the constant lightheadedness he had been experiencing was likely the meds he was on to ease the pain, though the concussion probably didn't help.

“Dang it,”  He hissed under his breath as a spike of the ever-constant pain coursed through his head, “Stupid meds, Stupid concussion.” He brought a hand to his temple, rubbing in hopes to ease the pain.

“Can I help? Is there anything I can get you?” Grain went to get up to get whatever the other man needed, but he felt the hand in his tug him back.

“No, please stay.”  Scar said, rushing his words out his mouth. “Everything feels foggy.  I just need something to ground me.”  

“Can I help with that?”  Grain asks slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to understand what the other needed.

Scar was quiet for a moment, “Could you…  Can you, hold me?”  Scar asks gently, reddening slightly, “Just until this dizzy spout passes.”

Grian puts his free hand over the hand Scar had in his other, “Scoot over.”  

They let go of each other's hands while Scar shimmed over, careful not to disturb his head or leg, giving Grian enough room to lay next to him on his good side.  The smaller man laid carefully next to the other, allowing Scar to lay his head on his chest while his arms wrapped around him.  Grain's hand found his back, holding him around the shoulders with one arm, while the other found his deep brown hair, carding through it sweetly.

“I’ll stay as long as you need.” Grian said softly, his fingers dancing gently across Scars scalp.

“Grian?”  Scars voice muffled into the smaller man's chest.

“Yeah, Scar?”  His thumb rubbing comforting circles on the other's back.

“Thank you.”  His eyes close, nuzzling his head impossibly closer.

“Anytime.”  He said before letting the world fall silent around them.

*~~~~~~~~~*

After a few more days in the hospital, Scar was getting ready to be released, with strict orders.  Keep the bandage fresh every 24 hours, don't let the affected leg sit still for long, in order to keep the scar tissue from settling around the joint, and physical therapy would start in a week.  The doctor gave him a few light exercises, just to keep his leg moving till he was healed enough for actual physical therapy.  Even though Scar had thought leaving the hospital meant he might start to feel better, boy was he mistaken. 

Though his concussion symptoms were starting to waver, the pain in his leg was only getting worse.  As the days led on in the hospital, they were starting to cut back on the pain medication they had in the drip.  Though he was getting medication to take orally, it wasn't as good.  Moving his leg was agonizing.  It felt like his skin was tearing itself from his body, and his knee felt as though it was being stabbed with a steak knife.  

It was a type of pain Scar had never felt before.  Ever present, even when it wasn’t prominent, the pain was always there.  When it was bad, it felt like the muscles were on fire, the spasming keeping him from decent sleep.  And when the worst of it would fade, it dimmed to a dull, unfailing pain.  One that never slept.  Though this pain was less than the former, it still rattled him in a way that pain never had before.

Going home was different.  Bdubs wheeled him out of the hospital, Cleo following close behind.  They helped get him into Cleo’s truck to take him home, folding the wheelchair and putting it in bed to get it back to the brothers shared house.  

The first week at home was rough.  The boys were lucky enough to live in a ranch style house with all the important stuff on one floor.  However, Scar learned pretty quickly that the doorways were not well suited for his wheelchair.  Being unable to stand on his own, trying to reach shelves and cabinets was frustrating.  

Scar hated having to rely on Bdubs for such simple things.  If he needed to get something out of the fridge, he needed Bdubs.  If he needed a plate from the cabinet, he needed Bdubs.  He couldn't even use the bathroom with his brother having to help him.  

It wasn't that he was upset that he couldn't do it on his own.  Well at least not entirely.  While it was infuriating that everyday things were now ten times harder than they had ever been, he felt bad that his brother had to do it all for him.

Scar had always been the one to take care of Bdubs.  His little brother shouldn't have to be the one to take care of him.  Scar could always take care of himself.  But now he couldn't.  Now he relied on his little brother.  That wasn't fair.  Scar was supposed to be protecting Bdubs, not the other way around.  While he was stuck recovering at the house, his brother was still working at the grounds.  And he couldn't even go with him to watch after him.  

Working with and around horses came with dangers, Scar knew that, even before what happened to him with his leg.  Everyone at the rodeo arena knew that every ride could be their last.  Especially when working a horse with an unknown history.  For those reasons, he tried to keep an eye on Bdubs when he would go to work with his projects.  Even though he knew Bdubs took all the safety precautions and was smart when it came to understanding the animals behavior and body language, it didn't keep him from worrying.  

But he knew that this was what made Bdubs happy.  What made him feel whole.  He couldn't take that from him.  No matter how much he worried.  So, during his recovery, he sucked it up.  He still had his brother message him upon entering and exiting the grounds, just to know that he was still safe.  However, he couldn't hover over him as he would in the past.  He had to yield some of his control.  As if he hadn’t done that enough already.  

Chapter Text

As the months dragged on, Scar started physical therapy, learning how to rebuild the muscles in his leg.  The pain still lingered, pulsing under his skin as his leg circulated the blood to his muscles.  Scar began to hate going to physical therapy.  Pain, disguised as progress.  It felt like he would take one step forward and immediately be thrust 2 steps back.  Every win came with a loss.  

The frustration overtook Scar.  He began to act short with his brother, snapping at him for every little thing.  He would blow up at Cleo for the stupidest reasons.  Deep down, he knew that they were just trying to help, but that didn't stop the fact that he was in pain.  It wasn’t even that he was angry at his loved ones. Realistically, he knew he was bitter that it’s him who got hurt on the most reliable horse they all knew. His attitude began to shift.  

Before he knew it, everyone was walking on eggshells around him.  He hated it.  He didn't want to be this way.  He wanted to be himself.  Carefree, playful, crack jokes.  He felt so disconnected.  It was like he wasn’t himself anymore.  Merely a husk of his past self, built on the pain and frustration that now controlled his every waking moment.  He was left shaky and nauseous, sometimes seeing things that his brother couldn’t.  Eventually, Cub refused to fill his prescription, leaving him in agony as he tried to get on without the assistance he had relied on. 

They had just finished eating, Bdubs was cleaning up and doing dishes, his face illuminated by the setting sun through the window above the sink.  That was the first time he saw it, it was at the edge of his vision. A flash of gold against the sunset, too fast for him to register what it was, but Scar swore that it was an animal he saw out the window.  He looked to his brother, who had stilled his hands, dropping the plate he was scrubbing back into the sink full of suds.  His face showed a mix of shock and horror.

“You saw that too, right?”  Scar pressed, rolling away from the table and towards the large sliding door window that looked into their backyard.  “I’m not seeing things again?”

Bdubs was unmoving, “No Scar, I see it too.”

Out the large sliding door, Scar took in the sight that was in their backyard.  

In Scars garden, which had fallen to disarray during his recovery, there was a skinny horse grazing among the sunflowers.  Its coat gleamed golden in the sunset, shining amidst the flowers.  Dapples covered its large frame, as though the animal was covered in sunflowers itself.  He was beautiful.

It wasn't until he took a closer look that he realized why his brother looked so distraught.  The horse's back left leg was covered in drying blood.  What happened to him? Scar thought gazing at the troubling picture that stood just outside of the house.

“I’m calling Cleo,”  His brother finally spoke up, his voice edging on haunting, “See if she can bring the trailer over so we can take it to the grounds and get it help.”  Bdubs pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed the number.  “Stay here and keep an eye on him.  I'll go grab a halter from the car.”  With that Bdubs disappeared out the front door.  

Scar didn't know what to do.  What could he do?  He couldn't help his brother catch this horse, no matter how much he might want to.  

He felt a tug, deep in his chest.  How badly he wanted to go to the wounded animal and just console it.  He looked scared, on high alert, constantly checking his surroundings.  Scar stared through the glass of the door.  There was a peculiar type of yearning stirring in his gut.  That's when the creature met his eyes.  Something felt familiar about the horse.

He had never seen the beast before today, but somehow it was as though he could understand what it was thinking, how it was feeling.  He was on the porch before he realized he had even moved from his spot at the window.  The sunflowers in the garden shifted as the animal moved, tilting away from its bony frame.  It limped as it moved, favoring the injured leg, as it cautiously wandered towards the porch.  Its ears twitched and flinched around as it approached Scar, who watched quietly and sat still so as to not spook the already frightened horse.  

After whatever happened to this animal, why it was still willing to grow nearer to a Scar, he had no idea.  Slowly it made its way to him, sticking its muzzle between the spindles of the porch to sniff his wrapped leg.  Very taken aback by the animal being so close, he didn't move, letting the horse take him in.  When the creature stopped smelling his leg, it moved to nose to try and nudge his hand, which Scar offered in an instant after realizing that it would likely not be going anywhere as it had decided to willingly get so close.  Feeling the warm, damp breaths on his skin brought him back to a happier time, a simpler time.  Before the accident, before he lost Minnie, before his life as he knew it all crumbled around him.  He let the creature's soft nose graze his hand before gently placing his palm on its face.  The palomino leaned into his touch, and Scar could feel something stirring in his chest.  What was this feeling?

“Scar.”  His brother's voice was soft but stern.  “I wish you hadn’t come out here when it could have been dangerous.  But that being said, whatever you are doing here seems to be working.  So keep doing it while I get this halter on.”  Bdubs had come around the side of the house in one hand a rope halter with a lead and in the other, the treats that he always had in his car.  He crept around the side of the porch, talking in a low tone to let the animal know he was there in order to not startle it by just appearing.  

Upon seeing the smaller man creeping towards him, the horse pulls his head from Scars hands and bolts out of their yard and into the wood at the edge of their property line.  As the animal's golden coat disappears into the dense oak forest, Scar feels that feeling in his chest dissipate.  

“Blast!”  Bdubs says, shoulders slumping. “There’s no way I can catch him in there.  Even injured he can out pace me in there if he really wants to.”

“But we can just leave him!” Scar contested.  “He’s hurt! What if he doesn't make it!”  

“We can't help him if he won't let us catch him, Scar.”  His brother said firmly.

Scar knew he was right, but that didn't stop the ache in his chest.  That horse let him close.  No.  He freely went up to him, and let him touch his face.  The first horse he has seen, much less touched since the day at the creek.  Why would the animal let me near, but not Bdubs?  Scar thought, still battling with the reality of the creature being gone.  

“I'll keep an eye out, I'll leave him a feed pan with grain in the yard, hopefully he’ll come back.”  Bdubs tried to reassure his brother.

“Ok,”  Scar sighed, “Fine.”

*~~~~~~~~~*

Scar didn't sleep at all that night.  This time, it was not his leg that kept him up.  While the dull pain pulsing through his affected leg wasn't the cause of his sleeplessness, it certainly hadn’t gone anywhere.  His mind raced with thoughts of what had happened to the animal he saw earlier that evening.  He was hurt, back leg tore open, as though he had gotten it caught on something.  He put some weight on it, but he definitely moved with a limp.  What would happen to him out there in the woods on his own, especially with an open wound?  Scar wanted to do something about it, but what could he do?  He had started to learn how to use the crutches to stand, but he still relied on his wheelchair to get anywhere.  

He wanted to help Bdubs catch the horse, take care of it.  But he knew that was unrealistic.  Something he can't have, just out of reach, just like everything else is for him right now.  Something he can watch but never do, he can observe but never help with.  Something that's just out of his grasp.  Another thing to add to his long list of things he used to be able to do.  

Why wasn't he scared when the animal came up to him? After what had happened, Scar expected to be terrified when the creature approached him.  But he wasn't.  Instead, he felt like he had found something he had lost.  He felt warm inside, like a piece of himself he thought he had long lost had been returned to his soul.  Could this horse, with a coat that shone more golden than a sunset, and dapples that blended against his garden's sunflowers, be what he has been looking for, after all these years?

*~~~~~~~~~*

Scar saw that beautiful horse nearly every day for the next month. It seemed that every time the horse was spotted, he was skinnier, despite the grain they left out.  Scar was getting restless, the wound on that back leg looks infected, he needs a vet desperately before it’s too late to save him.  No matter what Bdubs tried the horse would never let him near enough to halter him. 

Scar was getting more dejected in physical therapy, focusing more on gaining independence than walking again.  He was standing on his good leg regularly, but not putting much pressure on his throbbing knee.  The doctor had said that walking unassisted is basically impossible with the damage to his knee, and that Scar isn’t ready for regular assisted walking yet.  He understands where the doctor is coming from, not wanting Scar to rush his knee and cause more damage.  That didn’t help that he wanted to walk.  He wanted to go back to how he was before the accident; running and riding.  Riding is something he hasn’t found much enjoyment in since he lost Minnie, it made him miss her too much.  In the recent years leading up to the accident, he rode for his brother, not for himself.  Even still, he was starting to yearn for time in the saddle again.  This time, it was for himself.  

One morning, while Bdubs was out at the grounds, Scar was by himself.  Grian was on his way over to hangout, but he was stopping on his way over to get the both of them coffee.  He was still about 15 minutes out when Scar saw the horse again, grazing just at the bottom of the porch stairs.  Scar couldn’t help it as he wheeled himself out the door to see the beautiful animal.  The horse didn't even flinch as he opened the door and approached him the best he could from the porch.  

“What are we gonna do with you?”  Scar questioned, voice slightly strained.  “You come up to me and let me see you, but the second Bdubs tries to catch you, you run off.”

The gelding lifted his head slightly to look at the man on the porch, ears flicking attentively as he spoke.  His leg wasn't getting any better, while the scabs had healed, the scarred tissue was tight, making his leg hard to move.

“Bdubs just wants to help you.  I just wanna help you.”  Scars eyes find the halter that his brother had left of the deck after weeks of trying to halter the creature, to no avail.  What if he could help him?  What if it was only him that could get close enough to help?  It’s just so risky.

“I promise we would take care of you.  You would have herd mates, and good feed.  We could take care of your leg.”  He slowly grabbed the halter that sat beside him on the porch.  Is he really about to do this?

Was he really about to be this reckless?  Possibly put his healing on the line for a horse he hardly knew the history of?  Everything in his body screamed at him not to try, his leg, his muscles, the pain that pulses through them.  But his heart ached.  His soul pushed him.  He needed this horse to be ok, even if that meant he was not.  With that he stood on his good leg, holding the railing as he went upright.  He had to put all of his effort into not screaming out the first time he put pressure on his leg.  He couldn’t scare this beautiful sunflower away.

Slowly, he shifted as much of his weight to the rail as he went down the first step.  Though he tried his best to favor his bad leg, it still bore a little too much of him as he guided himself down.  His knuckles went white around the halter in his hand.  It hurt.  But still, he had to do this.  

He went down another step, pain shooting through his affected limb.  He looked up at the horse.  He was watching him, but he didn't look as though he was thinking of fleeing.  In fact, the creature took another step closer, waiting right at the bottom of the steps.  Why did he not run from him like he ran from Bdubs?  Could he tell that they were both injured? He struggled to blink the tears of pain out of his eyes so he could catch his horse.

 No, not his, this. This isn’t his horse.  He’s clearly gelded, and he isn’t scary skinny.  He clearly just escaped a little bit before the first time they saw him and his owner is very worried about him. He kept repeating that to himself as he took one last step down the stairs, arm reaching out to find something to steady himself on.  After a rushed stumble forward he finds the animal's neck.  Despite the hurried nature of the movement, the horse does not move, standing firm as if to not rattle Scar.  The beast that had been running from his brother every day for a month, was trying his best not to rattle Scar.

When he finally got his bearings, he was shocked to realize the horse hadn't stepped away.  He offered him the halter to sniff.  The gelding was letting him lean on him as he checked out the halter.  The switch in behavior was night and day as to what Scar would often watch from the window with this horse with Bdubs.  When he had finished examining the rope halter, the horse lowered his head into it as if to say, “Go ahead.”

With this, Scar gently leaned his body into the horse as he used both hands to slowly put on the rope halter.  Once it was on, Scar couldn't help the sigh of relief that left his lips.  After a month of seeing this horse, hurt and alone, evading capture, Scar was so happy to finally have the palomino in a halter.  There was one issue though.

Scar had left his phone inside on the dining table, and there was no way he was getting back up the stairs in his current state when gravity heavily aided him in the first place.  Much less with a horse in hand.  After this realization, Scar decided to take a seat on the last step of the porch.  His leg was throbbing, every part hated the decisions he had made.  But this was overshadowed by the joy and relief he felt having the animal he had been so worried about in hand.  The horse just stood there, head level, eyes half lidded as Scar loosely held the lead while slowly finding his seat on the stairs.  Scar smiled at the creature.

“Looks like you’ll finally be staying out of my sunflowers.”  Scar reflected on the first day that he had seen the horse grazing among his sunflowers.  At the mention of the flowers, the animal nuzzled its nose into his chest, Scar lifting his hand to stroke his neck.  “Sunflower, I think that suits you nicely.”

*~~~~~~~~~* 

To say Grian was upset when he arrived would be an understatement. He was very obviously pissed that Scar had risked himself over a horse. He kept his tone light and soft, trying not to spook the horse. 

“Now before I go and do something reckless, I’m going to call Skizz to get down here with a trailer, preferably with a very calm horse in it.”  Grian turned his back on Scar and Sunflower, hand in his hair. He came back out after a minute.  “Skizz is on his way with the two-horse trailer, Mumbo offered to let Buttercup ride along as a travel companion, since she hauls well.  We are going to get you and your friend out front so the transition of getting him to the barn is fast.  Gem is getting everything ready to treat the leg while waiting for the vet to be available.”

Scar points to the chair.  “Do you think he’d follow if I held the rope and you pushed the chair?  I’d suggest the other way around if he hadn’t run from Dubs so much.” 

“I don’t know.  Why don't you ask him?  Apparently, you’re the only one who he’d let catch him.”  Grian said with a slight edge, going up slowly picking up the chair and carefully taking it down the steps towards Scar.  “You realize how stupid that was, don't you?  What would have happened if he spooked or pulled away and you fell or he trampled you?”  

“G, I had to.”  Scar combated, verbally standing his ground.  He knew what he did was pretty dumb, but no one else had been able to catch this animal.  He was his only hope. 

“We will talk about this more later.”  Grian huffed, knowing if he went on anymore, his heightened emotions could spook the horse. 

If there is one thing that people who work around horses get good at, it's managing emotions.  You can’t risk wild emotions when working with these animals.  If you're scared, your horse is scared.  If you're stressed, your horse is stressed.  Horses are prey animals, they synchronize their heartbeats to their herd mates in order to sense danger around them.  The same applies with the humans around them.  Grian knew he had to keep heartbeat still and easy, so he wasn't about to get into it with Scar right now.

The rest of the transition, getting Scar from the steps to his chair, and getting Scar and Sunflower to the front yard was silent other than a few low coos Scar was making to the animal.  When Skizz arrived, he opened the trailer and got the slot next to Buttercup ready for the new horse.  Grian wheeled Scar and Sunflower as far as he could take them before Scar handed off the lead attached to the gelding's halter.  Calmly and careful he led him up the ramp and into the trailer.  And by some miracle, he was able to get the animal on with no issues.  What a strange creature.  For the first time, Scar noticed the mess that was this horse’s hooves.  Overgrown, with a long toe that had started to curl up into a crescent shape.  That will be a lot of work for whichever of the resident farriers was available.  

Scar and Grian followed Skizz back to the barn, driving carefully, but still quick.  Gem jumped into action the moment the trailer pulled in, already gloved, with the med stall prepared for a resident. She was the one that walked into the trailer to pull Sunflower out, letting him walk at his own pace toward the stall.  The horse got antsy, stamping his front hooves and trying to turn around when Scar was out of his sight. Scar had to wheel himself to be by the door of the med stall for him to go in without a fight.  Of course, once in the stall, he was perfectly content to chew on the haynet while Gem washed his weeping leg off.  The infection in the wound looked worse than anything Gem had experienced. 

“Skizz, call the vet, I don’t care that he doesn’t work on Saturdays.  If he doesn’t answer, go to my office and call his wife’s number.  Tell him it’s a critical 12 infection.  He’ll understand.” Gem pulls out her notebook, frantically scribbling down what Sunflower needs.  “Grian, move Buttercup to a quarantine stall until we get a culture on this.  We don’t want this to spread through the barn.”

“I’m going to be honest with you Scar.  I haven’t seen a horse with an infection this bad on its leg survive.  Even if the infection heals, there’s damage to the tissue, his leg could have permanent damage, and you know what has to happen if he can’t walk after it heals.  I’m not going to give up on him, but I need you to be prepared to let him go, if that’s the kindest option.” 

Scars heart dropped at Gems words.  The glitter started to fade as he looked at the horse in the stall.  His stunning Sunflower.  No not his.  This stunning sunflower was no longer the wild thing he had finally caught from his yard.  He was hurt, really hurt.  He might not make it kind of hurt.  The leg Gem was working on was beyond infected.  The animal in the stall might not make the night.  

No.  He couldn't think like that.  Gem promised her best, and Scar knew she would do anything for an animal, even if it was beyond saving.  It was out of his hands.  But somehow that made it worse.  Nothing he could say or do was going to help this beautiful beast.  He didn't know what he would do with himself if this horse didn't make it.  Back to square one.

That's when he felt a hand on his shoulder.  He turned his head from his view of the stall and met the eyes of the man beside him. 

“Scar,” Grian’s voice was heavy, “I’m sorry.”  

Scar froze at Grian’s words. No. No, no, no, this wasn't happening.  The horse was going to be fine. He had to be.  His mind raced as his heart rate started to rise. 

Scar shrugged the hand off his shoulder and turned sharp to wheel away as fast as he could.  He didn't want to hear this.  He didn't know that he was physically able to hear the news they were providing him.  Grian’s voice faded as he willed himself to stop listening.  

He had already lost so much.  His mare, his leg, his only way of life, now this.  The only chance he had at going back to normal.  This horse was different from any animal he had seen before.  The gelding could almost predict Scars every move, like he knew his thoughts.  But there was a high probability that he wasn't going to be able to survive his afflictions.  Why?  Did this keep happening to him?  Why couldn't he just be?  Why did the rug keep getting pulled from under his feet?  Why couldn't anything just go right?

Chapter Text

When Grian finally caught up to Scar, he was in the main barn’s tack room, sitting beside a saddle he knew all too well. His head was in his hands, his own fingers grasped through his dark brown hair. Scar had yet to move his mare's old stuff from his area in the tack room. Not that he couldn't keep it there anymore after she passed, no one minded it staying, but anytime Scar would walk in there he would remember what he missed the most about the rodeo. That was part of the reason Bdubs would often tack up for him. He couldn’t bear to see her gear fall out of use.

“Scar?” Grian asks softly, standing in the doorway. “Can I come in?”

Grian saw Scars head nod messily between his hands before he walked towards the other man, pulling up a chair to sit in front of him.

“You miss her.” The smaller man's voice was gentle.

“Everyday.” A sob racked his body, lifting his head just enough for Grian to see the tears roll down his cheeks. “She was the one good thing I had going here.”

“I know.” He cautiously lifts a hand to the other man's forearm, knowing last time he tried to give him a comforting touch, he was rejected. But this time, Scar leans into it, accepting Grian’s touch, allowing it to try and ground him.

“It’s been years, why can’t I just get over it?” He lamented.

“Because you loved her. She was your baby. That mare would do anything for you, because she knew you would do anything for her. You two were a team.” Grian had begun to thumb careful circles onto Scars arm. But his words only made the other man cry harder. “You gave her a good life.”

“What if we fail him?” Scar stilled his sobs to the best of his abilities.

It took Grian a minute to process what he just said. Then he started to understand.

He knew things had been tough after he lost Minnie. He stopped hanging around the barn, he didn't come to see him ride, he didn’t really even talk to him for a couple months after she passed. Losing that horse caused a domino effect across Scar's entire way of life. And just as he had started to get back into it again, he got hurt. That just uprooted him more. Now, he has finally found another animal he cares about, the way he cared about Minnie all those years ago, and they don't even know if he's gonna make it.

“Whatever happens to the horse in the med stall, we will not have failed him.” Grian pulls his chair closer to Scars side. “As mad as I was that you risked your healing to catch him, I know that you couldn’t sit there and watch him die if you knew you could do something about it. That's the kind of man you are. You’re selfless, caring, and you love beyond reason. Scar whatever happens to that horse, we will have tried. And that is what matters.”

With that, Scar turned at the waist and wrapped his arms around him. He clung to him like a vice. Grian pulled himself closer, allowing Scar to weep into his chest. While one hand traced soft circles on his back, the other held his head to his chest, fingers woven between locks of his hair, gently massaging his scalp. They stayed like that until they got word that the vet was about to arrive.

*~~~~~~~~~*

The vet’s arrival was probably heard the next county over, tires screeching to a halt, door slamming and pounding steps.

“Gem, what do we know?”

“Has had the wound about a month, living in the woods behind a residence, only just got caught 30 minutes ago, wound weeping something milky in color, but doesn’t seem like normal pus, skin around very irritated and smells of decay, fever 40.5° Celsius, 105° Fahrenheit but has an appetite when he can see the one that caught him. I have an IV started with fluids, with an access port for antibiotics. I plan to get a culture on the fluid to see if it’s something that can spread without wounds, as one of our other horses was exposed to him to help haul him quietly.” She rattled off the emergent symptoms, only mentioning the important factors.

Once the care was handed off, Gem changed to sterile gloves, grabbing a Petri dish and a large cotton swab, collecting the fluid and spreading it evenly. She quickly moves the culture to a warm, dark box specifically for this function. Once everything was secured, she took her gloves off again.

“Tell Mumbo that Buttercup has to be quarantined for at least two days as the culture develops. Maybe longer if it’s something that can infect eyes, mouth and nose.” She points at Skizz, who was already dialing him before Gem stopped speaking. This was gonna be a long next couple days.

*~~~~~~~~~*

Scar insisted that he and Bdubs stay in the bunkhouse while Sunflower was in the med stall. It was difficult to get his chair through the tight quarters, opting instead for his cool new crutches. His physical therapist had been saying he was ready for them, but he wasn’t emotionally prepared for how free he felt.

The third day, the culture was inspected. The infection needed a wound to spread, so Buttercup was released from her quarantine. It also was a strain that stuck around even with most antibiotics, the count would improve, but liked to come back the moment antibiotics were stopped. This was going to be stubborn to kick, but luckily, Sunflower was already improving a little.

Impulse and Skizz were working together to contact people in the area who had any palominos. They were trying to find Sunflower’s true owner, despite knowing it would break Scar’s heart.

So far, no one has stepped forward. Whatever happened to the horse was either unknown or someone does know and doesn't want to claim a horse in that bad of shape, knowing it would look bad on them. And if that was the case, Sunflower didn't need to go back to the likes of them. But, they could keep looking nonetheless. If someone were to claim him, there would be extensive questioning. That could be said for sure. However, the laws concerning “stray holds” for any domestic animal found living outside without identification stated they were to wait two full weeks after capture before the town would legally call the horse Scar’s.

Scar began to put his crutches to good use, constantly making his way down the gravel drive from the bunkhouse to the barn to check on the injured horse he had grown to love. At this point, Gem could recognize the sound of the man and his walking aids as soon as he got into the barn.

“Nothing’s changed, Scar.” She raises her voice just loud enough that she knew he could hear her as he approached. She had just finished cleaning and redressing the horse's wound, as she left his stall to see Scar closing in.

“How’s he doing?” Scar said as he got closer to the stall, peeking in at the stunning dappled gelding. Always happy to see him, the creature poked his soft nose out for him to pet.

Scar smiled at Gem, who rolled her eyes, very annoyed at this point. “He’s not any better than he was twenty minutes ago.”

“But he’s getting better?” His attention did not leave the horse in the stall, who he was now sweetly scratching the neck of.

“Slow progress. This bacteria is tough, it’s going to stay in his system for a long time. But he’s better than he was two days ago.” Gem started to pack all of the cleaning and dressing stuff away till next time the wound would need to be tended to again.

“Well, slow progress is better than none. I would know.” Scar leans on one crutch to slightly lift the other to get his point across.

Gem softens a little, a smile faint on her lips. “Yeah, I suppose.” She pauses her packing, just for a second to watch Sunflower lift his head through the open part of the stall to rest his forehead on Scars chest.

“You know, you are the only one he willingly lets around his face.” Gem continues putting stuff away, tossing the vet-wrap back into her bag.

“Hm?” Scar looks over at the vet tech properly for the first time since he got there.

“Yeah, he doesn’t even really let me halter him unless I get a lead around his neck first.” Gem looks around to make sure she hasn't forgotten anything, zipping up her bag. “He’s been quite the shy patient.” She says towards the horse, in a cooing tone.

“Huh.” Scar stops to think about it. “I guess we just get each other.” He smiles down at the horse who was actively falling asleep in his arms.

“I would say.” Gem says slinging her vet bag over her shoulder. “I have to get this stuff put away, and myself disinfected so I can go work with Artemis. Are you gonna be ok here on your own?” Gem turned her attention to the man now sitting in front of the animal’s stall, the geldings head resting just over his. Bdubs had brought chairs over to leave in front of the med stall when Scar graduated from his wheelchair, knowing if he didn't, Scar would end up standing there for hours.

“Oh yeah, I'll be fine. Bdubs is just out in the round pen with Crastle. He knows where I am.” Scar reassures the woman.

“Okie dokie then, see ya later, Scar!” Gem bid him farewell as she exited the barn, vet bag in hand.

Scar watched as she left. The barn was truly lucky to have her around. She had aided so many of the animals in her time with them. When Tango’s mustang Flame first arrived at the grounds, he had been involved in a disastrous barn fire. She took care of his burns and made sure his lungs were treated from all the inhaled smoke. She has patched up Jimmy’s quarter horse, Sheriff, on several occasions. Gem swears, that horse just looks for things to get cut up on. Not to mention the amount of times she has caught a horse colicing in the early stages. Gem has truly saved so many lives at this barn alone. What would they do without her?

Scar was content just sitting in front of the gelding's stall. The golden creature made for good company, resting his head out of the stall with his lips pressed on Scar’s shoulder as his eyes fluttered shut. He knew his brother might be a while in the round pen.

After Scar had his accident, Bdubs had lost a lot of time with his projects in order to take care of him. Crastle had taken several steps back in her training, losing some of her ground manners and reverting back to her pushy ways. Scar felt bad that he had caused his brother to lose progress with the animal. At the original rate he was working with her, the mare should have been rehomed by now. The guilt gnawed at him day and night, knowing that because of him, the younger man would be stuck with the horse for longer, causing him to delay the sale and pushing his brother back another month before he could get a new horse in to start working with.

Bdubs had assured him that it was ok. That Crastle only needed a refresher and would be right back on track. But that didn't ease the shame he felt. He hated being a burden, not being able to take care of himself, having to rely on others, getting in the way of their lives. Would he ever be able to go back to being as independent as he had been before? He wanted so badly for the answer to be yes, but he knew that it was improbable.

So caught in his thoughts, Scar almost didn't notice the sandy-haired man approaching the stall he was sitting in front of.

“I thought I might find you here.” Grain says, standing by the stall door, offering his hand to the horse that had retreated back into the stall upon his arrival.

Scar smiles softly, “What are you doing here? I thought you and Mumbo had plans.”

“He cancelled yesterday, something came up.” He gave up his efforts of trying to coax the gelding over and sat in the chair next to Scar.

Mumbo had canceled yesterday. Why was he even here? He wasn't scheduled for any feedings or chores for today. Bdubs wasn't given any notice to leave Pretty Bird in. Every possible reason for Grian to have come to the grounds today was accounted for. All except one.

“You didn’t have to come here just to sit with me.” Scar looked at the other, knowing exactly why he had gone out of his way to swing by the rodeo grounds.

“I wanted to.” Grian smiles, a faint blush dusting over his freckled cheeks, not looking directly at the brown haired man.

The pair fell silent, not knowing what to say next. What was there to say? Scar was happy to have the company, especially since it was Grian’s. But he couldn’t help but feel like he was being a hindrance. Surely the other had stuff to do today. He didn't have the time to just sit and do nothing with Scar.

“G, you really don't have to sit with me.” Scar broke the silence, turning his head to look at the sandy blond, who met his gaze. His dark eyes questioning. “I totally get it if you have stuff to do. Did Bdubs put you up to this? I told him I’d be fine, I'm just sitting here.” Scar rambled.

“Scar, slow down.” Grian cut him off. “Bdubs didn’t send me in here. He’s been chasing that project mare of his around the round pen since I got here.” He chuckled, recalling the scene he had passed on his way in. Bdubs covered in dirt and a bay mare prancing in a circle, still full of piss and vinegar.

“I stopped to put Birdie’s saddle back. Pearl took it home to clean and treat it. It has been sitting in our living room for the past 3 days, clean as the day I got it. I kept forgetting to bring it when I would come over, so I just decided to make it it’s own trip.” Grian grinned at Scar, seeing some relief wash over him. “Plus, I figured I could hang out with you for a bit.”

Scar felt his face heat up. Grian just wanted to hang out. Bdubs didn't send him. He just wanted to sit and be in his presence. At least he didn’t go out of his way just to sit there. He didn't know what he would do if he had inadvertently screwed up his schedule because his brother told one of his friends to keep an eye on him. He loved his brother to death, he just wished he wouldn’t go around inconveniencing people with the idea of ‘keeping an eye on him.’

“You're sure I'm not being a burden?” Scar checks on more time, just to settle the last of his uncertainties.

“No, Scar, for goodness sakes. You're not being a burden!” Grian turns to face the other man, shouting in a whispered tone as to not disturbed Sunflower, who had gone back to picking at his hay net. “I told you I’m here because I want to spend time with you. Why don't you believe me? What makes you think you're being a burden?” He couldn’t believe Scar thought that he was burdening him.

“I don’t know. Ever since I fell in the creek and hurt my leg, I feel like I’ve held people up because they were trying to take care of me.” Scars eyes fell to his hands, that he had started to wring in his lap. “Cleo missed a rodeo that would have gotten her a ton of points. Bdubs called her as she was loading Arson up that I had fallen and was unresponsive. Bdubs fell behind with Crastle because he was too worried about me in the hospital. And even farther behind when he brought me back home because he had to make sure I didn't hurt myself trying to get food out of the cabinets. And because Bdubs was out taking care of me, you got stuck with all his feedings and chores. All that time you could have spent working on drills to improve your pole-bending times, was gone, because I got hurt. On Lullaby, of all horses.” Scar couldn't bring himself to look Grian in the eyes.

“Cleo didn't have to miss that rodeo. Skizz and Impulse were closer. They could have sent those two over to get you, they would have gotten there faster. But they didn't, because they care about you and wanted to make sure that you were ok. Bdubs could have let you figure out how to navigate the house on your own. That way he wouldn't have fallen behind with Crastle. But he didn’t do that, because he's your brother, and he wants what's best for you. And I didn't have to pick up Bdubs shifts, Jimmy wouldn't have minded a couple extra chores. But you know what Scar, I offered. I wanted to help in whatever way I could to make sure you were taken care of. If that meant a couple extra hours of sifting manure, then so be it. Scar, look at me. ” Grian put a still hand over Scars restless ones. Dazzling green met deep dark brown. “You are not a burden to us. We want to take care of you. We want to make sure you are ok. We want to be here for you, because we love you. You're always so worried about what you can do for others. For once, let us do something for you.”

Scar feels the tears start to well in his eyes. “I’m not used to being so dependent.” The tears start to roll. “I’m so used to doing everything on my own, never asking for help. I’m not built for getting help. It's like my entire world got unrooted and flipped upside down. It's killing me, G! I don't know how to cope.”

“Scar, right now, you need to focus on getting better. I know you hate relying on us, but, as of right now, there are no other options. Now listen, when you start getting more mobile, we will figure out as many ways as possible to get you doing stuff for yourself. But, until then, I want you to know, and I speak for everyone when I say this, you are not a burden.” At this point, both of Grian’s hands are on Scars, gently rubbing at his knuckles.

“It's not gonna be fast.” Scar warns through a half-fought sob.

“However long this takes, I'll be here.” He lifts a hand to his face, using his thumb to wipe a tear from under his eye.

The two men had almost forgotten about the horse in the stall behind them until his head poked out above Scar, lip tussling his hair.

“I think he's saying that he plans to stick around. Both of us will be here whenever you’re ready.” Grain says, a soft laugh leaving his lips.

“However long?” Scar places his hand over the one already on his cheek.

“However long.”

Chapter Text

It finally happened, Scar was riding almost at his pre-accident level and Sunflower was rehabbed to near perfect fitness.  He felt confident enough to sign up to compete in mounted shooting on Sunflower, his first time competing since he lost Minnie a few years back.  His elation was mirrored in Bdubs, who was helping prepare them for the pressure of everything.  He still needed help getting on and off, he had his fair share of less than graceful dismounts before agreeing to use the mounting block to get off.  These days, his wheelchair was retired to the feed room in case someone falls off and gets really hurt.  He instead used forearm crutches or a cane the majority of the time.  Only on his best days at home he could walk unassisted, something believed to be near impossible after his accident.

The competition day was a month out, plenty of time to retrain his aim from a bouncing back instead of steady ground.  He always had someone supervising his rides, at his physical therapist’s insistence.  Today, Grian had volunteered to watch so Bdubs could go out on the trails with Etho.  Having Grian nearby made Scar feel the best, he was the only one that pushes Scar past his goalposts for his sessions, but still knew when to call it off. 

Today, the indoor arena was set up in a complex pattern that Scar had to run on Sunflower, pointing his revolvers, loaded with blanks, at balloons in strange patterns with a few tight turns.  It would be a nice challenge, but nothing he hasn’t done before.  They were always changing the patterns, because they don’t let competitors know the specific pattern until the day of the event.  It also helped him and Sunflower to stay sharp without weekly events to work together like he had experienced with Minnie.

Scar felt like he was flying, hitting every balloon in the beat of his horse’s canter.  He knew his left foot was loose in the stirrup, always was after rehabbing that knee, but never causes any problems.  Until he was going around a sharp right turn. He lost both stirrups, landing harshly onto the freshly dragged arena.  It was a little sore, but Scar was immediately up, calling Sunflower back to him, gently grabbing the reins.  The dirt was fluffy (thanks Mumbo), cushioning his landing.  Sunflower spooked a bit, and looking for the cause, Scar made eye contact with Grian, running full speed at the rider.

“I knew this course was too hard.  I told you, you can’t get that turn without a more secure stirrup.  Here.” Scar’s crutches were shoved into his hands, Grian’s eyes wild and swimming in tears.  Scar drops the crutches, limping away with Sunflower back to the mounting block.  He could hear Grian running after him.  “No. Scar, stop!  You can’t do that again.  Let me do Sunflower’s cooldown, you go sit down.”

Scar only stopped when his arm was tightly gripped, wrenching him backwards. 

“I’m trying again, I almost had it.” Scar twisted his arm.  “Let go.” His voice goes cold on the last part. 

“Scar, please, I’m not letting you get hurt again.” Grian begged.  Scar scoffed, pinching Grian’s hand just hard enough for him to let go. 

“Good thing I’m not asking you to let me do anything.” Scar stiffly climbed the mounting block, getting his left foot into the stirrup, then threw his other leg over.  “You know, usually, you’re pushing me to go harder, not the other way around.”

“Scar.  I won’t watch you do this.  It’s too risky!  Can we just talk about this before you go off being reckless?” Grian stood in front of the horse, preventing the pair from moving. 

“G, I’m not made of glass.  I’m made of flesh and bone, just like you.  It’s not any more risky than what we do every day.  Anyone else you’d be encouraging them to get right back on so the fear of falling again doesn’t fester.  Why am I so different?” Scar shouts, Sunflower spooking a bit under him at the noise.

“I can’t see you fall.  I just can’t.  It’s not because of your leg, I swear.  I felt the same whenever you fell off Minnie on the trails, but I couldn’t stop you from getting on again because that was the only way out.” Grian gently pats the gelding’s shoulder, calming him down.

“Unless you want to see if Sunny can jump over you, I’d recommend getting out of the way.” Scar clucked for Sunflower to move, pressing him to go around the man on the ground.  He set off with an initial posting trot, just to make sure everything really was okay after his fall.  He was pretty sure he was fine when walking to the block, but it never hurts to do extra checks.  After making sure that all his pains were normal for him, the pair set off at a canter, flying through the course perfectly.  At the end, he even asked for Sunflower to spin on his haunches, going the same direction he fell off at.  Yes, it was mainly to be petty, but it was the most fun he’d had in ages.

“See Grian, I told you it was fine, I know my limits.” He laughed out as Sunflower came to a stop.  His laugh cuts off abruptly, seeing an empty arena.  His chest tightened in a way it hadn’t since seeing Sunflower dying in the med stall.  Grian had actually left him.  He can’t get off alone.  Literally number one rule from PT: you’re allowed to ride, but only with help with any part that requires stairs or controlled drops, and listening to his leg was rule two. 

He sighs heavily, urging Sunflower out of the arena, towards where the stalls are.  Grian was nowhere to be seen, but Bdubs and Etho had just arrived back from their ride, if seeing them carrying their saddles to the tack room was any indication.

“Can one of you spot my dismount? I didn’t notice Grian leaving.” He knew he messed up the moment Bdubs turned to him.  Those large eyes full of barely contained fury.  “Dubs, he might’ve just snuck out to the bathroom, thought I’d be riding longer.” 

Bdubs puts his saddle down in the alley, grabbing a rein and leading Sunflower back to the mounting block.  He puts his arm around the back of Scar’s bad leg, supporting it as he swings his other one over to the block.  Once his bad leg is on the block, he steadily makes his way down the few steps, but it feels like a skyscraper’s worth after riding so hard.  He sits down on the block as Bdubs wanders the arena to find his crutches, eventually finding them on the ground by the wall, coated in a small layer of dirt.

Untacking is a process that Scar still struggles with.  A few months ago, Mumbo surprised him with a cart that was basically a saddle holder on a walker.  Mumbo was always coming up with the strangest good ideas.  The cart also has a place for his cane or crutches to lay, a hook for his bridle and pockets for his brushes.  It’s perfect for Scar to move his stuff around, so he doesn’t need people to carry his saddle for him.  He couldn't stand letting people do things for him if it was possible to get himself a way to do it.

The tack room was shockingly tidy.  Scar has toured countless barns, and every single tack room except for this one was an absolute disaster.  Everyone had their own locker with enough space for a saddle, bridle, helmet or hat, and a grooming kit.  It was perfect for everyone but Bdubs, who needs at least 3 saddles, one for Lullaby, one western for his projects and an english saddle, and Scott, who has his trick saddle and a regular riding saddle, so they get to use the spare lockers.  Everyone is welcome to use those lockers for alternate hats and all the less used grooming equipment as long as they’re labeled. 

Scar gets Sunflower’s tack put away in his locker, sitting down on the bench.  His breath is labored, wheezing on the exhale.  The tightness in his chest has worsened, it feels like there’s something constricting his ribs.  Scar frantically unbuttons his flannel, but that only makes him shiver on top of the tightness.  The compression will suffocate him, he knows it.  That’s the only explanation, he broke his ribs in the fall, and didn’t feel the pain before, now his lungs were collapsing, he’s going to die, Grian was right. Why was Grian always right?  The pain in his knee flares, just how it does every time he gets worked up like this.

*~~~~~~~~~*

After leaving Scar to untack, Bdubs went looking around for Grian.  Pretty Bird was in her stall and Grian’s car was still out front, so he couldn’t have gone too far.  Bdubs initially checked the bathrooms, but finding them empty, just started wandering the grounds calling for Grian.  He gave up after doing a full lap of the building complex, he would’ve been visible, it’s hard to hide on the grounds unless on a horse going far onto the trails.

Bdubs walked back into the main stable, checking in every single door.  He felt very silly checking all the stalls, when Grian should’ve been visible from most angles.  Cookie had almost bowled him over when he opened the door just far enough to poke his head in, he really should get on BigB to teach her some ground manners.  He already had checked Pretty Bird, but looked anyway. He immediately knew how he missed finding Grian.  

The dark blond hair was the only thing he could see other than his clothes, knees tucked up to his chest, making himself as small as possible in the corner.  Luckily, his horse seemed to be giving him space, Bdubs very gently haltered Pretty Bird, putting her into the cross-ties.  While she might be okay with Grian sitting in the corner, she wouldn’t be okay with anyone else. After slipping Birdie a mint, Bdubs went into the stall and sat next to Grian.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bdubs knows that Grian knows what he’s talking about.  The mass of hair, very clearly mussed by the horse grooming him, shook out a no.  Bdubs hums his understanding, wrapping his arm around Grian.  “I wanna talk, but I don’t need you to say anything.  I helped him dismount.  I saw the dirt on his pants, and I know that wasn't there this morning.  It’s scary, seeing him fall when falling almost killed him only a year ago.  It’s bittersweet.  I haven’t seen him this happy since Minnie, but I’m terrified to lose him.  We worry because we love him too much to lose him, but trying to stop him from riding would be losing him in a different way.  He isn’t Scar when he’s stuck out of the saddle.  He’d only be a husk if we prevented him from riding to protect him.  One misplaced hoof can kill him.  But it could happen to any of us.  I worry anytime one of us is on one of the broncs and bulls.  I worry when horses spook.  It’s part of life in the rodeo.  I know that you understand that.”

He touched the back of Grian’s head, it moved easily, turning his tearstained face to Bdubs. 

“I thought it was going to happen again.  He went flying.” His voice is shaky and hoarse.

“He seemed off when I helped him down.  I don’t think it was his leg, but I know he won’t tell me if it was, because he doesn’t want me to worry.” Grian was up before Bdubs finished the statement.  He ran to Sunflower’s stall, finding him happily munching on his hay.

He frantically ran toward the tack room, Pretty Bird flinching in the cross-ties.  He finds Scar in there, clutching his chest, shaking, shirt completely unbuttoned, exposing his toned chest to the chill air.  His face is scrunched, eyes pointed toward the ceiling, sweating but with goosebumps all over, wheezing heavily. 

“Scar? Are you alright?” Grian asks softly.  Scar seemed so far away that his voice didn’t register.  “Hey buddy, can you tell me anything right now?” Upon receiving no answer again, Grian crouches between Scar’s knees, laying one of his hands over Scar’s, bringing it to his clothed chest, his other hand resting over Scar’s thrumming heart. 

“Hey Scar, I’m here, can you feel my heart?  Good job.  Can we try breathing together? Can we do in for four, out for six?” He counts off with his breaths, Scar trying and failing to get on the count.  “Good try, let’s do it again.” It takes seven more attempts for Scar to get through the counts.

“You left.  You actually left me.  You promised you’d never leave unless you really needed to.  I needed someone to see that I could do it.” Scar’s voice is still wheezy, with little substance.  Grian pats his leg, walking backwards to Scar’s locker, pulling out the rescue inhaler he’d had ever since a hit to his ribs a few years ago.  He takes the cap off, placing it in Scar’s hand and pulls it to his lips. 

“I think you only need one puff this time.” He takes it back after Scar has inhaled the medicine.  He puts it back into Scar’s bag, then sits right next to him on the bench. “I was so scared seeing you fall off.  I haven’t forgiven myself for not being there that time. I know that it was a brothers training trail ride, but getting that call asking if I could pick up some of Bdub’s barn chores because he wouldn’t leave your side in the hospital was terrifying.  I pray to every possible deity that you never need to get one of those calls.” Scar lays his head on Grian’s shoulder, and Grian presses a soft kiss to his hair before he can think about it.

“You didn’t trust that I could do it.  I’ve done sharp rights since it happened, just got unlucky on that one.  I knew I could do it.” Scar whined.  “I think that’s the first time I trusted myself, but you didn’t trust me.  It hurt more than the fall.” 

“I think it is too.  Most of the time, it’s me knowing that you can do something once you get out of your head.” Grian gently rubs Scar’s back, letting him get comfortable.

“I did it the second try.  You didn’t ask, but I know you wanted to.” He laughs quietly. 

“I know you did, Scar.  I’m proud of you.  The most important thing after a fall is trying again, because the next time can only be better.” Grian combs his hands through Scar’s ride tangled hair.  “I’m not treating you like glass with this, I’d ask anyone this.  How are you feeling after that fall?”

Scar chuffed quietly. “Little sore, been more sore from physical therapy.  Knocked my shoulder a little.  Maybe ribs, but I think that was because of how you found me, not the fall itself.” He winced at Grian rubbing his shoulder, but relaxed quickly.  “Meanie.” 

They lapsed into silence, Grian massaging the pain out of Scar’s shoulders and back, slipping under his unbuttoned flannel in the process.  Scar tried to keep his head on the other’s shoulder, but it was difficult with his exhaustion.

“Hey Scar?”

“Yeah?” 

“Put your clothes back on.”

Chapter Text

The sound of metal on metal filled her ears, as the bronc was directed into the chute. Its hooves pounding the footing resounded around her. She’s a beautiful thing, stout and tall, with a bright red coat that looked as though she was made of fire.

Reputation. She was a bronco that Gem knew well. She belonged to the rodeo company she grew up riding for. This would not be her first ride on this animal.  

In all her years riding rodeo, she had just recently started to try her hand at the rough stock events. It had been a year now since she started, and she was starting to get really good. She rivalled most of the guys in the bronc events, and was even starting to get the hang of riding the bulls.  

 Gem had ridden Reputation at 3 other sanctioned events, out of those rides, she only had one qualify. On the back of an animal like that, 8 seconds felt like an adrenaline fueled eternity. Relying on your balance, strength in your legs, and a single hand to grip the handle on the harness, was no easy feat. And by no means was it safe.

 Though, as any good rodeo company does, they took the right precautions to minimize any possible injury, you’re still getting on a 1,200lbs animal with a mind of its own, trained and bred to try and throw anyone and anything from its back. Gem knew that.  

 Clad in her bronc vest and cage front helmet, she knew what dangers faced her, and that excited her. The rush of adrenaline she got when the chute would open, when it was her against the beautiful beast under her, was unrivaled by any feeling she had ever known in her life. Even running barrels didn’t pack the intensity that the roughstock events did.  

She was perched on the top of the chute ready to get on and situated. Martyn, who was balanced next to her, prepared the horse for her ride, adjusting the bucking strap before turning his gaze to Gem.  

“You ready?” Martyn said, offering her a hand to help lower her onto the horse in the chute. 

“As I’ll ever be.” She said with a nervous, but excited, twinge.  

Martyn helps her get adjusted. Her fingers found the harness handle before fixing her grip. Leaning back, she gets her heels above the animal's shoulder. Her free hand rises above her head. A curt nod, and the chute is opened, Martyn pulling the flank strap taught as the animal starts out.  

 One

 The bronc lowers her head, pulling her back legs up and bucking out erratically. Gem’s hand grips the harness's handle tight.

 Two, Three

 Gem rocks back and forth with the unpredictable movements of the animal underneath her. 

 Four, Five

 Reputation twists her body in tight circles all the while continuing her irregular motions. Gem focuses on her free hand, Don’t touch her rear, don't touch her neck, she reminds herself, knowing that simple touch could cost her the ride.

 Six, Seven

 Surely I’m nearly there, Gems mind starts to race. Her legs are beginning to cramp, her hand on the handle is starting to grow weak, and her free hand is getting to feel heavy. Even though she is growing weary, the bronc is not. The bucking mare is still going strong, if not picking up her pace.

 Eight

 The buzzer sounds letting Gem know she made it long enough to qualify. She brings her free hand down to meet the one clinging to the harness trying to hang on to the still wild mount. She has to bail.  

 She spots Skizz getting his horse, Gluestick, to her side, ready to pick her up. She tries to reach for him but the mare she's on does not slow her movements. Skizz keeps his mount close and tries to reach out for her. Finally he gets her, but it's short lived as Reputation cuts Gluestick off, trapping Gem inches from the metal panel fence. Lucky, she's able to hold on just a bit longer till she's clear of the fence before she lets gravity take her to the ground.  

 It didn't hurt too bad. Gem has gotten used to taking a tumble, you have to if you're gonna ride the roughstock, that's kinda the whole point of the events. She’s to the point where she doesn't even wake up sore the next morning. Her body is used to the frequent falls she takes. What does rattle her a bit is what she sees when she goes to get up from the ground. 

 She was not as far from the fence as she thought she was when she let go. Not a few inches from where she landed, was one of the panel gates that made up the rodeo arena.  

 Welp, that could have been bad. She shrugs it off in her head. Quick to move on, she makes her way to the gate to get out of Impulse's way, who is now actively trying to chase the bucking mare down on his own horse to get the flank strap off of her.  

 She could hear Oli over the speakers announce her score, as she perched herself briefly on the top of the metal fence. “A beautiful ride for Gemini Tay! Judges give her a 78!”  

 Not bad, room for improvement, but not bad at all. Gem thought as she scaled back down the gate to Etho and Pearl, who were waiting to congratulate her on her ride.  

 “Way to go, Gem!” Pearl says bouncing up and down, giving her a congratulatory hug. “You looked so good out there!”

 “Yeah, Reputation is a hard bronc. She gets scores in the high 40s most of the time.” Etho fist bumped her, clearly blown away by her incredible ride.  

 “Thank you,” she says, drawing out the vowel on ‘you,’ smiling, "There's still room for improvement, but I’ll get there.”

 “Gem, only you would successfully ride one of the roughest bucking horses on the grounds and say that you need improvement.” Pearl giggles, playfully poking the other girl.  

 Gem just smiles. She never had such good friends when she was barrel racing. All the girls she used to ride with were pretty fake, to put it nicely. Never had it out for anyone but themselves. Ever since she started riding the roughstock events, she made friends who rooted for her, not her downfall. They were always looking out for her, always by her side after a ride, good or bad. She couldn't ask for more.

 “Gem!” She heard a familiar voice shout, “Are you ok?” She looked over her shoulder where she found Skizz, still in the ring, though he had dismounted his large black horse. His brows were furrowed and his eyes were wide.  

 “Yeah, I'm fine.” She said, unconcerned. “Did you see that ride?”

 “Yeah, I saw that ride. You fell inches from the fence!” Skizz scolded through the panel. “How many times do I have to tell you to bail away from the fence!”

 “I thought I was farther away.” She could feel the excitement from the successful ride slowly seep out of her. Why was Skizz so upset? This wasn't the first time she had bail towards the outside of the arena. But this is the biggest reaction that it has gotten out of Skizz.

 “I don’t care if you thought you had enough space, that doesn't mean you risk your life! What if you landed on the fence? You could have gotten really hurt!” His voice was slowly getting louder. Gluestick started to get antsy, no doubt due to his rider's heightened emotions.  

 Gem was starting to get frustrated. “But I didn’t, Skizz!” She bit back. “I just had my second qualifying ride on the hardest bronc this grounds owns and you didn't even come over here to say good job! No, all you can focus on is something that could have happened, but didn’t!”

 She couldn't believe him. Skizz was the one who taught her how to ride bronc. After years of coaching she was finally competing, keeping up in a predominantly male sport, nonetheless. But instead of happily congratulating her, her mentor was pointing out everything she had done wrong. She couldn’t deal with him right now.

 “I would be if you weren’t so careless with your own safety!” He argues, trying to steady the restless draft cross gelding he held on a tense rein.  

 “Whatever. I can’t deal with you right now.” She puts her hands up in mock surrender, before turning towards the group she had been chatting with seconds prior. “I have to go get Artemis ready for team roping. I’ll see you in a few, Pearl.” She steps away with a huff, leaving Pearl and Etho unsure of what they had just witnessed. Etho pulled down the camera he had been filming with for Gem and Skizz, stopping the recording.

 Skizz inhaled sharply, knowing she probably wouldn't be talking to him for the next few hours. He just didn't want to see her hurt. He had been looking out for her since she started riding with the company. Him and Impulse had both watched her grow up in the rodeo scene. He had mentored her in both Bronc and Bull events knowing if he didn’t help her figure it out, she would try and figure it out on her own. And that was something Skizz could not let happen on his watch.  

 Gem was the closest thing Skizz ever had as a daughter. He would do anything for her. He didn't know what he would do if something happened to her. Sure, he could be tough on her, but it was for her own good. Part of him knew that he saw a lot of himself in her. That was what truly scared him.  

*~~~~~~~~~* 

 The rest of the events went off without a hitch. Gem and Pearl killed it in team roping, for once. Etho took first for Bull riding and Pearl came second in Pole-Bending, only preceded by Grian. The siblings were constantly competing to best each other, but that's about what she expected from the rowdy pair. Gem even ended up taking 3rd in Bareback Bronc. The ride itself was a personal record. She couldn’t bring herself to enjoy it though. She hadn’t meant to upset Skizz. Why was he so upset anyway? He should’ve been relieved that she wasn’t hurt, not angry that it got close. 

 Gem couldn't bring herself to talk to him in the days following the argument. She skipped their coaching sessions, avoided him around the grounds, and on the off chance she couldn’t keep her distance, she would give him the cold shoulder. She could tell it was driving the older man crazy.   

 One afternoon, a week after Skizz and Gem had had their tiff, Pearl was able to convince Gem to go out with her to ride some trails. Though, she didn't have to do much convincing. Both girls loved to trail ride. The grounds had hundreds of acres of beautiful trails. Some were through gorgeous clearings. Others were through dense forest. But no matter what trails they would ride, it was the only time they truly felt free. The troubles of the real world couldn't reach them when they were out on the land, upon the backs of their horses. Well, most of the time.

 “What's been going on with you and Skizzlely?” Pearl’s voice breaks through comfortable silence the two had been riding in.  

 “What do you mean?” Gem says, trying to sound nonchalant.  

 “I don't know, let's see; you have been avoiding him, you haven't been talking to him, oh yeah, and Etho mentioned that you missed your coaching session the other day.” Pearl lists, using her free hand to count them out on her fingers. “I know you, Gem. You never miss an excuse to practice for bucking events.”

 Gem curses under her breath. Of course Pearl can read her. Why did she think she could lie to her?

 “It's nothing, really.” Gem's hand finds Artemis’s mane, fixing the few strands of her liver chestnut mane that had migrated to the other side of her neck.

 After a brief pause, Pearl pressed, “Is this about the tumble you took after your PR ride, during the rodeo?”

 There it was. Shame on her for thinking she could keep anything from Pearl. Gem fell quiet, trying to figure out what to say. She didn't want to say she was mad at him, that wasn't it. Not entirely. Yes, she was a little hurt about the comment he made about her being careless with her own safety. Though, she couldn’t deny that the fall she took was pretty close to the wire, and it definitely could have been avoided.  

 Gem knew what she did was reckless, but something in her refused to let it be admitted, be it pride or just plain not wanting it to be true. Overall, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had let him down. After everything he and Impulse had done for her, she went and did something to let them down. How could she be so stupid.  

 “He didn't even care about the ride. All our hard work and he didn't even care.” She lashed out, words sharper than razors. She knew she wasn't angry at him, but she didn't know how to tell Pearl the truth.

 “You're right. He didn't care about the ride.” Pearl rolled her eyes, unbothered by Gem's harsh tone, encouraging Tempest to slow down at the edge of a large, open field. “He cared about you, and wanted to make sure you were ok. And, to be fair, the dismount wasn’t exactly graceful. You were inches away from the fence! Me and Etho were worried too for a second. So what if he worded it poorly, he was so worried. I could tell, and you know how he is near rough stock ”  

“Yeah, yeah, no emotions until everyone’s dismounted and far from the judges. I know, he taught me that.” Gem tries to brush it off, even though part of her knew she was right. Skizz was worried about her, because of her. She bailed to the wrong side, she almost got hurt. Skizz was upset, because of her.  

“So why have you been avoiding him?” Pearl finally pulled her mare to a stop, her eyes meeting Gem’s. Her beautiful blue eyes felt as though they were piercing her soul, searching for something, anything, that could explain why she had been acting so distant.  

“Pearl, I'm telling you, it's nothing.” She felt her jaw tighten. Her hand felt tense on her mare's split reins, pulling Artemis to a stop parallel to Tempest. She knew the dirty blonde saw her body stiffen. Her mare began to dance in place, eager to go back to moving.

“And I’m telling you, I know that's a lie.” Pearl swung her leg over the back of her saddle, slowly guiding herself to the ground before tying her Brumby mare to a sturdy tree just inside the treeline. Pearl found a seat on a downed tree, months of sitting had caused some rotting on the edges, but it was otherwise stable.  

“Pearl, what are you doing?” Gem said, annoyance thick on her words. Though she still followed suit, tying Artemis with Tempest, and joining Pearl on the makeshift bench.  

“We are not leaving this stump ‘til you tell me what is going on.” She said with finality.  

“I don’t know what to tell you!” Gem snapped, voice sounding more frustrated than truly angry, standing up from where she just sat down to take a few steps away from the other woman. “I’m fine!”

“But you're not, Gem!” She stood but didn’t move from the tree to shout back, eyes glazed in the tears she was successfully holding back. “You’re clearly not! You haven't been you. You’ve been isolating yourself. We haven’t really seen you in a week! You haven’t been practicing. We normally have to force you to take breaks from practice. And you haven't spent time with poor Artemis since the rodeo. You always make time for her, even when you have crazy long shifts at the clinic.”

“I don’t get it, you say you're fine, but we both know you're not. Something's eating at you, you just won't tell me what! Please, Gem, I just want you back. We've missed you. I’ve missed you.” Somewhere along the line, the tears had started to roll slowly down Pearl's cheeks. Gem noticed the tears that now stained the others' faces.

Was she crying? Over her? She made Pearl cry. She had to be the worst person in the world. All over what? Her pride? Her reputation? No, this wasn’t fair. Not to Etho, not to Pearl, and especially not to Skizz. Her bullheadedness had hurt the people around her, the people she cared about the most.  

She silently sits herself back down on the fallen tree. Pearl watches tentatively as the redhead fusses about with the fraying ends of her sweater sleeves.

“Do you think he feels like I let him down?” Finally, it comes out. The words slowly fell out, her head hung down, staring holes in her riding boots. Her pride shattered, her reputation put aside. Unveiling her true feelings to one of the only people in the world she knew she could trust with them.  

 “Oh, Gem.” She sat back down on the tree, her hand finding its way to the shorter girl's knee. “The only thing that would let him down is if you quit just to not confront your issues.”

Gem huffed. She knew Pearl was right. Those twins, both of them, always know the right path in everyone’s lives but their own. It takes a few moments of Pearl rubbing her knee before the sobs start to shake her body.

“I don’t want him to hate me, Pearl, I can’t have him hate me. It took so long before he let me onto the rough stock, I don’t want him to try to stop me, because then I’d have to go behind his back and he’ll hate me.” She tucks her head before Pearl can actually see the tears.

“Skizz is not gonna hate you for a silly mistake. Come on, you know him better than that.” She tilts her head towards the smaller woman, trying to meet her eyes, but she can’t get a glimpse.  

“Have you even talked to him since it happened?” She could see Gems turned head shake slowly. “Welp, that would probably be a good place to start.” Her voice was gentle in a way that only Pearl's voice could be.

“What if he resents me? What if he doesn't want to talk to me? What if the damage is already done?” Gem spirals, head finally turning enough for the dirty blonde to see her emerald eyes spilling with tears.  

“Gem,” She finally gets the red-head to make eye contact with her. “I promise you, he doesn’t”

The smaller girl searches her eyes for confirmation of her words. She knew Pearl was right. Skizz wasn’t the type to hold a grudge or to hate you, even if you really deserved it. He cared about everyone on the grounds, wanted what was best for everyone. Always there if you needed him.  

“I don’t know how to talk to him after that. I’ll stop running from him, but I can’t start the conversation about it. You were there. He was so callous after that ride. I just wanted him to be proud of me.” She sniffled.

 Pearl moved her hand from Gem's knee to her shoulder, lightly pulling her to her side. The other accepted the touch, leaning her head on the taller's shoulder, letting the tears roll quietly. For a while, they just sat, letting the emotions come out as they appeared. They would eventually have to ride back, but for now, they just were.

*~~~~~~~~~* 

Skizz was losing it. He hadn’t gone more than a weekend without talking to Gem since she arrived at this barn. How could she just ignore him instead of talking and hugging it out like they always did. Could she hate him that much for caring about her safety? He wasn’t even that harsh with her. She could've gotten really hurt. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if Gem got herself killed doing a skill he taught her. They worked so hard to get her ready for riding broncs, they both knew the risks, and both deemed what they did as worth the risk. But bailing that close to the fence? That's never worth the risk. 

Skizz knew how it felt to be her age. You feel invincible. You fall, you shake it off, you get back on. All that for the rush you feel doing something that could easily kill you and walking away with a few bruises. Teasing death from the back of a half ton bucking machine, with a one track mind to get you off your seat. It was all something he had known. At one point, that had been his entire life. But he had experiences caused by carelessness. Experiences that he hopes for the life of him, Gem would never have to.

At this point, he couldn't even bring himself to care that she could’ve gotten hurt. Now, he was worrying that she’d get onto a bronc without continuing her training, just so she didn’t have to confront him. That is more reckless than bailing so close to the fence.  

“You gonna brush your horse or are you just gonna stare into space?” Impulse's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He was in the stall with his horse, getting her tacked up and ready to ride some drills in the outdoor arena.  

“Yeah, yeah dude. I just kinda spaced out a little.” Skizz, who was in the stall with his horse, Gluestick, continued to brush the tall black draft cross, making sure his girth area didn’t have any bumps or cuts that could cause him discomfort.  

“I could tell.” Impulse hoisted a hefty black saddle gently onto his mare's back, sitting it evenly on the thick saddle pad he had previously set up there. “Everything ok?”

“I don’t know, man.” He sighs, grabbing his own pad and evening it out on Gluesticks back, then following it with a dark brown saddle that looked as though it had seen its fair share of use. “Gem’s been avoiding me after her close call at the rodeo last week. If I walk into a room, she walks out. If I try to approach her, she disappears. She even missed our coaching session.”  

 “That doesn't sound like her at all. She never misses a chance to practice around the roughstock.” Impulses furrowed his brows, tightening his cinch before taking the bridle from his horn and slowly approaching his grey mare's face. “What happened when you talked to her after her ride?”

 “I made sure she was ok and reminded her that she needs to fall to the inside of the ring. Then we got into an argument and she stormed off.” Skizz adjusted his saddle to make sure it sat correctly before tying his latigo into a Texas T and cinching it up.  

 “Do you have a video of her fall? I didn't really see it because I knew you had her, and I needed to focus on getting Rep back into the chutes.” Impulse says before he gets Ghost's bridle on her, cooing to her about how good of a girl she is. The grey mare struggled letting people near her face, though she was getting better with Impulse, he still liked to let her know how brave she was when she let him bridle her.

 “Yeah, I had Etho record her ride so we could watch it back after the fact. That way we could see if there was anything she needed to work on.” The taller man buckled up his geldings breast collar, before digging his phone out of his pocket to pull up the video, tilting the screen towards his friend.

 As the video played, the two men watched the qualifying ride followed by the fall. Between the angle it was filmed at and the fact that the depth perception of the camera could only do so much, it looked really bad. Gem looked like she was a hair’s breath away from the fence, not the little under a foot she was realistically. When the red-head landed, Impulse gasped.

 “I will admit, the video makes it look so much worse. But it still scared the crap out of me.” Impulse had taken the phone from the other man's hands to see the video closer.  

 “Yeah, that was a close call.” The brunet rewound the video a couple times before letting the video play through well after the fall. “Why is there another minute of the video?” He let it play.

 “Etho must have forgotten to stop it after Gems rid-” He’s cut off by his own voice through his phone.

 “How many times do I have to tell you to bail away from the fence!” His scolding tone blasting in his ears.

 “I thought I was farther away.”  

Her voice sounded so small, it hurt Skizz’s heart.

 “I don’t care if you thought you had enough space, that doesn't mean you risk your life! What if you landed on the fence? You could have gotten really hurt!”  

His words rattled in his head. He didn’t remember sounding so angry. He knew how he felt when he said the words that sounded so harsh. He was scared, worried about his friend, not mad.

 “I just had my second qualifying ride on the hardest bronc this grounds owns and you didn't even come over here to say good job! No, all you can focus on is something that could have happened, but didn’t!”  

Did he even say good job? He can’t remember if he did. The ride itself was fantastic, other than her arm getting a little sloppy here and there, and the spurring getting a little out of sync towards the end, it was a perfect ride. The dismount was what scared him. And that in and of itself was partially his fault for not pulling her off in time. But it was what he heard next through the speaker of his phone that truly made him sick.

 “I would be if you weren’t so careless with your own safety!”

 The words felt like acid in his ears. What was wrong with him? Had he really said that to her? She was so proud of that ride. A PR ride, nonetheless. She just wanted him to be proud of her for the thing he had taught her to do. The thing they trained together. But no. He went and called her careless for something that was just as much his fault as it was hers.  

 She had every reason to be avoiding him. He had been overly harsh for no good reason. Letting his emotions take him over while still in the rodeo arena. He knew better than that. And now, it was poor Gem who had to suffer from his carelessness.  

 Sometime while Skizz was in his thoughts the video had stopped. Between him, Impulse, and both of the horses that were just about ready to ride, no one made a noise. Neither man tried to say anything for what felt like minutes. Both horses stood patiently. The dark haired man finally looked up at the other.

 “Impulse,” Skizz could feel his throat contracting as it set in as to why Gem had been avoiding him. “Man, I think I messed up bad.”

*~~~~~~~~~* 

 It had been a day since the girls had gotten back from their trail ride. Gem had agreed that she would stop avoiding Skizz, but she couldn’t promise she would know how to talk to him about all that went on. He probably didn't want to talk to her anyway.  

Bdubs was out with Cleo and Scar at a mounted shooting event his brother was riding in. She hadn’t seen Impy or Skizz, thank goodness. So that left Gem and Pearl to take care of things around the barn. The two didn't mind. It takes everyone to keep that place up and running. Everyone does their part one way or another. But some things were easier with a couple extra hands.

“Hey Gem, can you help me out here? Some feed got delivered and the strong ones aren’t here to carry it in.” Gem could hear her from the tack room where she was sweeping up. Pearl sounded out of breath. Those feed bags were a two person job unless you were double their size. People like Impulse, Skizz, and Cleo could carry those suckers with no help, but Gem and Pearl had to work together whenever they got stuck unloading feed. Gem hurried into the feed room, if Pearl sounded like that, she’s already close to hurting herself. She didn’t bother closing the door, no horses were loose in the barn to steal food. Gem noticed a few seconds too late that Pearl wasn’t holding a bag. Instead, stood beside her was the tall, dark haired man she had promised she’d stop avoiding.

Pearl turned on her heel, slipped out the door, and flipped the lock over, cackling. “Talk it out. You won’t get out until I hear everything I want from both of you.”

“Hey! That was not part of the plan you told me. You said you’d get her so I can apologize, not that you’d lock us in together.” Skizz was indignant, pounding on the door. 

Upon realizing the door wasn't gonna open anytime soon, the older man turned to look at the girl who was leaning against a few hay bales stacked in the corner. Her shoulders were hunched around her, she looked so small. Skizz opened his mouth to speak but was cut off.

“Are you disappointed in me?” Gem’s voice was meek, almost a whisper. She braced herself for the worst.  

“Oh honey, of course not.” He sighs, touching Gem’s shoulder, trying not to wince at her big flinch. “Alright, Gemmy, how about we watch the video of your ride.” He pulls it up, angling it towards the small girl so she could see, but doing his best to keep a physical distance, knowing by his attempt at comfort that she wouldn’t like him too close. He played the 8 second ride, pausing right after the buzzer, before her fall. “Good job on this ride, sat well, pretty clean, I only have 2 notes, can you guess what they are?”

“My spurring got a little out of sync and my free hand started to get tired towards the end.” Gem nods to herself shakily. 

“Yes, those are the only places I see any improvement for you.” Skizz sighed again, throwing his head back against the wall. “I’m always so nervous seeing people I care about on those mounts.” He took a brief pause. “Did I ever tell you why I stopped riding bronc?”

“Becasue you got old and smart?” Gem giggles stiffly, repeating the words that he had told her the last time she brought up the topic.  

“Well, yeah, but that’s not the only reason.” He lets out an airy chuckle, forgetting about the excuse he made up for when Gem brought up the end of his rodeo career when he first started coaching her for the bucking events. “I was young, felt like nothing in the world could bring me down. I got into rodeo and fell in love with the roughstock events. That hit of adrenaline was everything. At first it was just fun to try and ride the whole 8 seconds. But then I started getting good. My best ride on bronc was in the high 80s. It was the week before nationals. Man, that had to be 8 years ago, now.”

“I was riding one last event on the grounds just for fun.” He started to unbutton his flannel as he continued the recount of his story. “I didn't even need the points to qualify, but I wanted a little more practice before the big leagues. It was an amazing ride, but I wasn't thinking about where I was bailing.”

He shrugs his flannel off, leaving him in his undershirt, Showing the extensive expanse of silver scarring all over both arms. “Fell on the fence, compound fracture, scared the pickup men’s horses with how much I screamed. All of my dreams were gone in an instant.” He pointed to the biggest indented scar, surrounded by smaller surgical scars. “Seeing you headed to the fence like that, I couldn’t help but think of you in the same position as me. You have such a promising career ahead of you, and I couldn’t stand it if it was ripped from you in the same way it was ripped from me. I was so worried and I am so sorry I lashed out like that. Nothing excuses the way I acted that day, and I will completely understand if you want a different rough coach.”

The feed room was quiet for a beat before Gem said something. “I don’t want a different coach.” Her eyes were glazed in tears that she refused to let fall. “I just want to make you proud. Ride the best I can. I'm sorry I scared you. You have always been there for me, through everything. I don’t know what I would do if I ruined that because I can't follow simple instructions.” 

“Gemstone, I promise, you won’t lose me over a silly mistake.” He leaned down to meet her eyes. “We just need to work on bailing. That's partly my bad that we didn't work on that more before we started you on the harder broncs.”

“You promise you don't hate me?” Gem looks up from her sweater sleeves that she had been picking at, to meet Skizz’s eyes.

“Promise.” He smiles softly. “You can't get rid of me that easy.” They chuckle. 

Gem smiles back, before asking one last question. “After all those years of riding bucking events, just to get hurt, why didn’t you leave? There was nothing for you here anymore. You could have moved on and got into a less dangerous line of work. But you didn’t, you stayed.”

“You're right, I stayed. After my fall, I told myself that I wasn't gonna let what happened to me happen to any one I care about.” His eyes looked sad. “Impulse was still riding for a little while after my incident, Martyn had just joined and was eager to ride the bulls, and Cleo was about to start bulldogging. I had to make sure they were safe. Then the company grew. The bigger the company got, the more I wanted to stay. Then, when you joined, to ride in the gaming events, you just had that spark. The more I watched you ride, the more I thought of the old days. You wanted to ride the roughstock and I tried and tried as much as I could to talk you out of it, but you wouldn't have it. So I figured if I couldn’t talk you out of it, I might as well coach you. Because I might not be able to compete myself, but hell if I'm gonna let you try and go in blind.”  

Skizz slid his overshirt back onto his scared arms. He was almost finished buttoning it when Gem began to speak.

“Skizz,” She hesitated, “Thank you. For everything.” Her voice sounded beyond genuine, like she had been meaning to say those words forever.

“Of course, Gemmy.” He grinned. “Can we hug it out?” Skizz asks, not wanting to push the younger girl too far out of her comfort zone, especially after not talking to her in nearly a week.

Gem nods, standing to let him wrap his arms around her, squeezing him back as tight as she could. He was the best hugger. She felt like she could melt. All was well again. She was so glad to have him back. The only person who she truly cared about what they thought of her. Skizz didn’t hate her. That was the best news she could get.  

After they had both let go, they heard the lock to the feed room door flick open. Looks like the talk was up to Pearl's standards. They were free to go.

“What should we do with our new found freedom?” Skizz says, opening the door, motioning for Gem to go out first. 

“I say we catch Pearl and have a talk with her about locking people in the feed room.” Gem says, playfully looking up and down the empty barn for any sign of the other girl.

“Sounds like a solid plan.” Skizz laughs.

“Oh, Pearl!” Gem practically sings before running down the aisle.

“Hey! Wait up!”