Shattered

[Mads ♥]

So... yeah. This is something I've worked on on and off since I was about seventeen. Long time in progress, and most of the original stuff needs to be stripped down and fixed up. The later stuff is what I like better.

This is where Jesse Adams started. As a depressed teenager, born out of a particularly nasty, dark patch in my life. Most of my close friends know if I'm in the mood to write Jesse in his darkest moments, it's not a good thing. Thankfully, that doesn't happen too often anymore. But this is still something I've worked on for a long time. It's something I need to finish, for my own peace of mind.

This is a later excerpt of it, and I hope it makes sense as a stand alone, as I'm really not going to post the whole thing. <3

~

19

What makes you think something’s wrong?

“Jesse?” Elliot poked his head into his friend’s room. Jesse was sitting up, deftly picking through a series of small bits of paper scattered about his bed. Upon closer inspection, Elliot realized that they were playing cards. Jesse glanced up, that same masked smile on his face.

“Elliot! C’mere! Keith brought me something. But don’t let the nurses see ‘em, ‘kay?” Elliot arched an eyebrow as he approached Jesse’s bedside. His doctors wanted to keep him in for a bit, to ensure that his leg was healing before he was allowed to bang around at home. The biggest problem now was the fact that his broken wrist kept him from crutches. Once he was home, he would be stuck in a wheelchair, or else confined to bed rest until he was healed enough to use the crutches. Elliot slid into a plastic chair and dragged it closer to the bed.

“What could you possibly have that you need to keep it from the nurses?” If it came from Keith, he couldn’t rule out anything. Jesse just flashed an impish grin and held out the messy stack of cards.

“Shuffle ‘em, but don’t look at the other side. Not yet.” Elliot obliged, though somewhat baffled, shuffling the cards as best he could.

“So how are you feeling?” Elliot couldn’t help asking. He worried for Jesse constantly, wondering if he was in pain, or lonely, or bored. So far, nothing seemed to be able to penetrate his newfound upbeat attitude. Jesse shrugged, pushing his hair away from his eyes.

“I’m okay. Hurts like a bitch some days though. But the drugs are pretty decent. They take the edge off, at least. Here, let’s do Go Fish, it works the best.” Elliot rolled his eyes, but dealt the cards anyway.

“I’m glad to hear that you’re so nonchalant about the whole thing. And Go Fish, really? You know that we stopped playing that in grade school, right?” Jesse just grinned.

“I’m telling you, it works the best.” He flipped over his cards, scanning them eagerly. Elliot fingered his cards, trailing across the glossy surfaces. He didn’t even have a chance to pick them up before Jesse requested his first card. “’Kay, dude. You got a blonde?” Elliot had to do a double take.

“I’m sorry, what?” Perhaps he had misheard. Jesse smirked.

“I said, do you have a blonde?” Elliot still looked baffled. “Dude, look at your cards.” Hesitantly, Elliot flipped over his cards. His face flushed a dark red. Printed all over the cards were pictures of women. Very, very naked women. In very, very provocative positions.

“Jess!” The cards fell from his flustered hands. Jesse just began to choke with laughter.

“Oh my God, Ell. You should see your face!” He howled, beating the thin blanket over his hips with his good hand. Elliot glanced at Jesse from over his glasses, trying to appear a little more composed.

“Oh, grow up Jess. It’s not that funny.” But Jesse wasn’t stopping. He was cackling now, resembling a blond hyena.

“It totally is, dude. Your face!” While Elliot tried to keep up the indignant act, he was secretly happy. This was so much more like how Jesse used to be. Merciless teasing, finding humor in the small things. This was his best friend, the way he remembered him. It was a relief, to say the least.

“You’re such a creep.” Elliot scowled, but his expression quickly changed to a smile. “Come on, don’t you have any normal cards we could play with?” Jesse shook his head, a smug look on his face.

“Nope. It’s these or nothing.” Elliot rolled his eyes, making an exasperated noise in the back of his throat.

“It’s degrading,” he protested, but the expectant look Jesse was giving him was effectively ebbing away his defense. Sighing, Elliot picked up his cards again.

“It’s not. It’s just fun. Come on, lighten up. Any other seventeen year old would be happy to have these.” He began matching up his pairs and laying them down on the bed. Two brunettes, two redheads. “You got a blonde, or not?” Elliot rolled his eyes and handed over a card, trying not to look at it.

“You’re such a child, Jess,” Elliot said with a little smirk. The blonde just shook his head and laughed as he paired up his blonde cards.

“That’s what I aim for. Growing up blows. I’m movin’ to Neverland and hangin’ out with Peter Pan.”

“That… sounds like a plan.” Elliot worded his response carefully. This was Jesse, sure, but the things he was saying, it was like he was trying just a little too hard. Sure, the drugs and, hell, the mere fact that he was in the hospital would be enough to alter anyone’s mood. But something wasn’t adding up, making sense. But trying to pin it down was like trying to grasp one of those old water snakes. The moment you thought you might have the toy, it would slip through your hands.

“Damn right. It sounds like the life.” Jesse chuckled and brushed his hair from his face. “Yeah, maybe that’s what I’ll do afterward. Go to Neverland.” His eyes closed as he rested back against his pillows for a moment. He looked so peaceful, anyone walking by might mistake him for sleeping. But something he’d said was bothering Elliot. He’d said “afterward.” After what, though? After he was released? After he was better? Or was he up to something?

“Jesse,” Elliot said softly, his hands grasping the plastic bed railing. Jesse didn’t immediately stir. “Jess,” Elliot repeated, his knuckles turning white from his grip. Finally, Jesse opened one eye.

“Just practicing,” he said with a little shrug. For what, Elliot wasn’t so sure he wanted to know. “Anyway, what?” Elliot bit his lower lip. He didn’t want to ask this question. But if he didn’t, he was sure it would rip him apart from the inside out. His eyes closed for a moment, and he rested his head on the bed rail.

“Jesse… you aren’t… planning anything, are you?” When he looked up again, his blue eyes were shining with unshed tears. “Jesse, promise me you aren’t going to do anything.” He made a grab for Jesse’s free hand, but the blond jerked it away. A shimmer of what he had been hiding seemed to show in his eyes, just for a moment. Then the mask slipped back into place as the momentary drop in his façade was corrected.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Ell. I’m just planning on getting out of here, and getting better. That’s all there is to it.” He picked up the remaining cards in his hand hastily, trying to shut the door on their conversation. But Elliot wasn’t done. He didn’t move to pick his own cards back up.

“So you can go and try again, Jess? Is that it?” He glanced up, almost forcing Jesse to meet his gaze. “You’re going to get better just so you can die all over again?” He shook his head. “I know you, Jess. This isn’t like you. You should be throwing things, swearing, trying to get around even though you know you shouldn’t. That is why I can’t help but wonder what you’re thinking.” He almost looked like he was in pain, the expression on his gentle features. Jesse scowled, staring at his lap before pulling his hand back and shoving the pile of playing cards off the bed. His green eyes were sharp as he glanced back up at Elliot.

“Is that what you wanted? Because it’s sure as fuck not what I want. I thought everyone liked my whole ‘positive outlook’ views. You seen my mom lately? She’s happy, Ell. And she’s happy because I’m not acting like a moron, okay? Why can’t you just accept that maybe, just maybe, I’m better in the head? That maybe I don’t want to put a gun to my head anymore?” He balled his fists in his blanket. Elliot visibly flinched away from the harsh words, closing his eyes.

“No,” he said softly, shaking his head. “That’s not what I meant.” How the hell did you word it? “I just… we’ve been friends so long, Jess. I thought I understood you. Every part of you. But this…” Jesse looked away.

“Well you thought wrong then, didn’t you? Because like it or not Ell, this is me. I changed. And you can either accept that, or you can go the hell away, because if you can’t accept this, I don’t want to talk to you.” Elliot’s heart plummeted. How could something he’d intended to go so right… turn out so wrong?

“J-Jess… I didn’t mean…” Elliot was at a loss for words. Jesse shifted as best he could in the bed, rolling his face to the wall. “Jesse, I’m sorry.”

“I know. But that doesn’t take it back, Ell. I worked hard to get out of that black hole. You think I wanna go back in? I don’t. It was cold, Ell. Cold and dark. I hated it.” He curled one knee to his chest, leaving the broken one stretched out. “I won’t go back.” If he was acting now, Elliot failed to see the disconnect between reality and the lies. Hesitantly, he planted his hand on Jesse’s back.

“I’m sorry, Jess. God. I wish I could take it back. It’s just… after everything… I just don’t want to lose you again. And I know that’s really selfish, but I can’t help it. You’re my best friend, Jess. I love you.” Under his hand, Jesse twitched. He didn’t answer. What could you say to that?

“Get out of here, Ell. I’m tired and I feel like shit.” He pulled the blanket up and over himself, the last few cards from the deck sliding to the floor. Elliot froze. This whole situation was a painful reminder of those hellish months where Jesse had been so painfully depressed. One wrong move, one wrong word, and he would shut down. Was this what he was hiding from them all? The thought alone made Elliot’s stomach twist.

“Jesse… just promise me one thing.” Elliot’s voice cracked halfway through. Jesse tensed on the bed, obviously in no mood to listen. But Elliot didn’t care. “Jess, promise me you won’t do anything stupid. Because right now, I’m scared. I don’t want to lose you, Jess. I don’t want to even think about it.” He didn’t get any further in his request. Jesse rolled suddenly, violently, and reached out. His fist smashed into Elliot’s jaw before he could react, his eyes blazing.

“Don’t fuckin’ talk to me. I don’t want to hear it.” Elliot stumbled backwards, holding his hand to his jaw. His glasses were askew; he didn’t bother to fix them. His expression was hurt, surprised.
“Jess…”

“I said don’t,” Jesse snapped. “Get the hell out of here.” His hand hovered near his call button. “I fucking mean it. Go.” Elliot stepped back, trying to comprehend the situation. Was this really what he was hiding? Had he struck just a little too close to home? He closed his eyes.

“Goddamn it Jesse.” Elliot backed against the wall, his hand still pressed to his jaw. “What the hell was that for? I’m on your side, or did you forget that too?” But Jesse’s back was to him now. He wasn’t going to get an answer any time soon. This was dangerous. He wondered who he could tell, who would care? Even if he did tell someone, Jesse would know who spilled the beans. He was scared, and for good reason. The last time he’d been faced with this, it had ended with his best friend face down in a pool of his own blood. He couldn’t do that again, he couldn’t deal with it. And for the first time since Jesse had first lost himself, Elliot understood. He understood what it was like to be stressed and emotional to the point where that one forbidden door would suddenly seem so tempting. But he wasn’t like Jesse. He was stronger than that. He’d once hoped that Jesse was that strong, too. He couldn’t lose his best friend again. But what could he do? What could he say? Just because he was starting to understand didn’t mean he could condone it. Without a word, Elliot left the room, the lingering ache in his cheek serving as a reminder. He had to do something.

[Mads ♥]

This is a secondary part to this. Fast forward to university years. Jesse's got all this bad stuff behind him. He's living with his best friend/casual boyfriend, and he's working his way through school, and up the ladder of his riding career. It's a piece of the story I always found interesting. <3

~

Three

If I tell you the truth, will you hate me?

“Oh God…” The groan came from Elliot, who, in spite of himself, had done just as Jesse had wanted last night. Eaten pizza and drunk beer until he’d puked. But not before he’d made a fool of himself by dancing, in his underwear, to Spice Girls. He made a mental note to delete all Spice Girls from his hard drive, and burn any tapes and CDs that might be hanging around.

“Sorry to tell you, Leprechaun, but when you’re that hung over, even God looks down and says ‘what an idiot.’” Jesse’s voice came from somewhere, but Elliot couldn’t tell his exact location. He sat up, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. While he recognized that he was in bed, he started at the realization that he was naked as a jay bird. Jesse laughed from the doorway. “Yeah… you had a good time last night.” The Irish boy’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he pulled the comforter around himself.

“Why did you let me do that?” Elliot groaned, not bothering to look for his glasses as he covered his face with his hands. Jesse snickered quietly, shrugging.

“That’s what happens when you don’t have a lot of fun. You pack it all into one night. And you did. I mean, I didn’t know that if I turned on the Spice Girls you’d strip down and dance so fast.” Elliot moaned, sliding sideways so he was lying on the mattress again.

“I hate you.” His head hurt, his stomach was in knots, and he had the feeling that was just the tip of the iceberg. “How am I supposed to go trailing with you when I feel like this?” Jesse moved from his post by the door and sat on the edge of the bed, gently rubbing Elliot’s bare back.

“You needed a night off, Elliot. You had fun, don’t deny it. Besides, the more you go out on benders like that, the better you feel. Heck, I probably out drank you three to one, and I’m fine.”
“Yeah… but I’m a lightweight.” He didn’t dare question how much he actually drank.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby. Take some Pepto-Bismol or aspirin and you’ll be fine. Now come on. Move your butt.” He gave the aforementioned body part a loving smack before springing up. “Come on, come on, we haven’t got all-” The doorbell rang. “-Day. I’ll get it. You get dressed, Leprechaun.” Elliot pulled a face, silently cursing as he forced himself out of bed. He showered and brushed his teeth, still feeling somewhat ill from his “bender”, before dressing in old jeans and a plain black t-shirt. After finding his glasses with one arm snapped, he resigned himself to wearing his contact lenses.

By the time he was finished, Elliot had to admit that he was feeling marginally better. At least he was clean now. After he had taken the required dose of Benadryl, he opened to door to the rest of the apartment and stared at the situation that presented itself. Sixteen year old Sasha was sitting on the countertop in the kitchen. Jesse was standing in front of her, his arms crossed and a deep scowl etched onto his face. Elliot’s heart stuttered when he saw Sasha. He hadn’t seen her for some time now, and she was certainly growing up. Dressed in flattering fitted jeans, low heeled black boots, a black and white chequered hoodie, and just a touch of makeup, she looked far older than her sixteen years. Her dark brown hair was swept back with a red headband, the glossy strands cascading down to the middle of her back. Sasha had always been Jesse’s kid sister, but more recently, Elliot was beginning to see her for the young woman she was becoming.

“Uh… am I missing something here?” The siblings glanced his way. A moment later, Sasha squealed happily.

“You blinked!” Jesse growled quietly.

“Way to go, Elli-man.” He bonked his sister on the head and hauled her off the counter. Looking at Jesse now, dressed in beige jodhpurs and a black turtleneck, a dark green padded riding vest, and his legs from knee to toe encased in black leather boots, he certainly didn’t look the punk he normally tried to portray. Even his normally spiked hair lay flat today. “Now we have to listen to her music in the car.” Sasha grinned, running up to Elliot and hugging him, proclaiming him her favourite “brother.” Bewildered, Elliot hugged her back while Jesse lugged Hero’s heavy dressage saddle off of the kitchen table. “Okay Chickadee, Leprechaun, let’s go. Load up.”

“Wait… Sasha’s coming too?” Elliot looked to Jesse for confirmation. The blonde nodded, switching Hero’s saddle to his hip as he opened the door.

“Yeah. After what happened to me, our mom won’t let her take riding lessons. So I’m going to teach her while I teach you. Oh,” he paused. “She’s staying here for the week, too. Checking out the university. So give up your room and bunk with me.” He hadn’t needed to tack on his last phrase for anyone except Sasha. Elliot simply shrugged, pretending that it was just easier to go along with whatever Jesse said.

‘What happened to a trail ride? Now you’re going to teach me how to ride properly?” Elliot’s heart pounded slightly. Going on a trail ride, following nose to tail, didn’t worry him, but having to actually control the horse was something entirely different. Especially if he was going to be riding a mare three months away from having her first foal. Jesse had assured him that it was safe to ride a mare up until the day she foals. In fact, being ridden was good for them. The activity kept them fit, and the birthing process was easier on them.

“Changed my mind. Hero needs arena work. We can have a trail ride afterwards. Now come on. Both of you.” Sasha giggled and skipped behind her brother. Elliot trailed behind them, dragging his feet slightly. As much as he loved to visit Wildwood, and especially Shiloh, he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread over learning to ride a horse. He suspected it had something to do with the fact that the first time he had ever seen Jesse ride, it had ended with his best friend in the emergency room, unconscious and broken.

The trio piled into Jesse’s forest green Ford Explorer, Sasha insisting on sitting in the front. After a brief ensuing sibling squabble, Sasha was relegated to the back. The drive was peaceful, save for Sasha’s insistence that it was necessary to listen to Katy Perry over and over again. By the time they made it to Wildwood, both Jesse and Elliot had had the lyrics to the irritating songs burned into their memories. As Jesse was parking his SUV, Sasha piped up with a question.

“What are you going to call the babies?” It seemed to catch him off guard as he punched down the parking brake and turned the ignition off. He turned in his seat and stared at her.

“Why do you want to know?” She grinned.

“Dad said I might get to have one. If it’s not born with ‘potential’, it’s mine.” Jesse rolled his eyes, fingers curling into loose fists.

“It’ll be impossible to see their true potential until they're about three and start training. So start dreaming, Chickadee. Anyway, I only have names picked out for one foal, and that’s Shiloh’s. If she has a colt, we’re naming it Shiloh’s Hero. And if it’s a filly, Shiloh’s Song.” Sasha pulled a face.

“Those are awful, Jesse. Pick better names! Like… Black Magic Mystic, or…”

“You’ve been watching racing too much. The whole goal of the Thoroughbred racing industry is to come up with the most obscure names. These babies are going to have normal names.” He unlocked the doors. “Come on, let’s go before those mares actually drop their kids.” He climbed out of the Explorer and retrieved Hero’s freshly cleaned saddle from the back. Elliot and Sasha followed suit, trailing behind Jesse as he led the way to the stables.

Wildwood was well maintained, with a troop of well paid employees tending to its’ every need. The pastures were kept free of debris, the fences in good repair. The horses were always well groomed, their stalls cleaned twice a day. It was evident that the animals were happy here as six heads popped over the stall doors at the sound of human company. Seraphine let loose a deafening whinny of greeting, kicking at the door. Jesse sped up to a lurching run, lugging the heavy saddle with him as he called out to the horse.

“Seraphine, shut UP!” The young mare squealed and bounced on her front legs, pushing against the stall door. He reached her stall and grabbed her halter, forcing her back to all fours. “Big trouble, ‘Phine.” Putting the saddle on the ground, he gave her lean neck a smack. “Behave.” Her ears flattened, but to her credit, she backed away from the door and snorted. Jesse pushed his blonde hair out of his eyes, cursing softly under his breath. “Stupid mare.”

“Bravo, Jesse.” A deep, yet feminine voice seemed to float from behind the twenty three year old. He didn’t even have to turn around.

“Morgan,” he responded in a cool voice. Morgan Gayle was the women Michael had hired to run the operation. With her usual business attire of daringly short skirts, low cut tops, and stiletto heels, she hardly looked the part, but she had horse sense. Jesse had to give her that.

“She’s been pining all day long, the poor girl. One would think you neglect her, Jesse. I’ve had Jamie and Reese let her out in the fields, but she still comes in wound up. She’s hot headed, like her father. I dread to think of the foal she’d make if your father bred her to Forward.” Jesse shuddered. When you bred two “hot” horses together, you almost always ended up with a horse that was damn near uncontrollable.

“She’s just bored. She likes training. Maybe I’ll take her out after I’ve stretched Hero’s legs a bit.” Morgan nodded.

“Good idea. I just have to wonder… with Seraphine being so spirited and distractible, will she really be worth it in the end? She’s got potential, but she’s still young.” Morgan waved her hand. “Never mind me. I’m just thinking out loud, that’s all. Get Hero out and ready for the next competition.” Jesse looked across at her.

“Hey, that reminds me.” He dug in the pocket of his coat. “Can you put this in on the PA system out there? It’s potential music for the show. I want to see what works best with Hero.” Morgan took the jewel case gingerly and turned back for her office, swaying her hips in the familiar, almost seductive way she always moved. Sasha pulled another face.

“Does Dad keep her around for her brains, or her boobs?” Elliot snickered quietly, knowing the same thought had passed through all three of their minds. Jesse just rolled his eyes.

“That’s rude, Sash. Come on, if you’re going to ride, pick a horse. It’s either Seraphine, Rose, or Faith. Elliot’s riding Shiloh.” He glanced at Elliot. “You know where her stuff is, right? Her bridle should be hanging on the ‘Shiloh’ peg. Same with her saddle. And I know Morgan ordered a few elastic girths. They’re white, and should be in the tack room on the wall.”

“I want Rose!” Sasha announced. Jesse rolled his eyes. Neon Rose was obnoxious, with the air of a superior show horse, despite the fact she had bulldozed through just as many jumps as she had cleared. But if Sasha wanted to learn the hard way, so be it.

“Fine, ride Rose. Her tack is labelled too. If you need help, Reese and Jamie are skulking around somewhere.” With the instructions given, Jesse turned and brought his saddle to Hero’s stall. The stallion was standing quietly, watching the commotion but making no noise. His ears pricked as his master approached, but rather than putting on a display as Seraphine had, he simply stepped quietly away from the stall door. Hero was what was known as a “push button” horse. He would do exactly as you asked, no fighting or protesting. He was perfect for dressage in that respect, but he would never have made a good jumper for exactly that reason. If he was asked to jump, even if he knew it wouldn’t work, he would do as he asked, aiming to please his rider. Jesse patted his neck. “Hi, boy.” The stallion woofed out his breath and tickled Jesse’s neck with his inquiring muzzle.

Elliot disappeared into the tack room, retrieving Shiloh’s bridle, saddle, and an elasticized girth. Butterflies continued to dance in the pit of his stomach, entirely different from the sick, hung over feeling he had experienced upon waking. He was nervous about riding Shiloh in a “real” lesson, and he was nervous about talking to Jesse. Frightened as he was, he knew he had no real choice. He had to push on. Gathering all the pieces he needed, Elliot dragged the lot to Shiloh’s stall.

The mare was standing quietly, her elegant head bobbing in greeting as she spied her favourite person. Elliot couldn’t help himself as he placed his hand on her velvet muzzle. She had gotten bigger since his last visit, but she still looked ever inch the regal lady he had always seen her as. She huffed softly, turning to gaze at her side before looking back at him. He smiled, stroking her cheek. “It’s okay, Shiloh. You’re still beautiful. And your baby will be beautiful too.” Elliot settled into the easy rhythm of talking to the mare as he slipped into the stall with a brush. “Jesse’s so excited about your baby, girl. Not Faith’s, or Rose’s, but yours. Because it’s Hero’s baby too, and that makes him happy, I think.” Shiloh nickered softly, leaning against the pressure Elliot’s brush made on her neck. “You’re such a good girl, Shy.”

Down the aisle, Sasha fought with Neon Rose. The mare had decided that today she wanted to be difficult. Elliot could hear her frequent squeals and shouts as the mare moved about. He couldn’t stop the smile that spread as he heard Jesse eject her from the stall and send her down to Faith. “Rose is stupid, Sash. I’d rather you safe than sorry.”

“But Rose is so much prettier!” Sasha whined, to no avail. Elliot laughed softly into Shiloh’s glossy mahogany fur. She might have started to look grown up, but she did not act like it all the time. Elliot continued to brush until Shiloh’s coat seemed to glow. Then he tackled the daunting task of tacking her up. He still worried about hurting the tiny foal, about hurting the mare. But Jesse was so well versed in horses that he had to have been speaking the truth.

Shiloh stood quietly for the saddle, even as the girth was tightened around her belly. She opened her mouth willingly for the bit, nudging Elliot as if to tell him that all was well. He wished he shared in her confidence. “Hey,” Jesse called from the aisle. “Are you guys ready?” Elliot peeked out, his eyes widening at what he saw.

Jesse was already aboard Unsung Hero. The stallion’s legs were wrapped securely in black wrap around medicine boots. He wore his double bridle and dressage saddle. The way Jesse sat on him, so still and quiet, brought a lump to Elliot’s throat. To anyone on the outside, Jesse looked calm and professional. He made the ride look effortless. But Elliot knew the inside story. He knew that Jesse would have taken strong painkillers in the morning. He knew he would have some on him now. He knew that every second his friend spent in the saddle was borrowed time. Eventually, he would exchange it for anything from mild discomfort to extreme pain. His doctor and his psychiatrist were always at odds with each other. From a medical point of view, Jesse’s leg was healed, but there was a limit as to what it could do now. Riding not only bordered that line, it smashed right through it. He had been banned from jumping ever again, but that didn’t stop him from riding on the flat. While his doctors had gone on to admit that riding had improved the strength of the limb, he could never do what he had been able to before the accident.

His psychiatrist was thrilled with his involvement in riding, insisting that physical activity was one of the best ways to help Jesse avoid a relapse in depression. Thus came the debate. What was more important – Jesse’s body, or his mind? Neither entity held the answer, but Jesse didn’t care. As long as he was in the saddle, he was free.

“Jesse,” Elliot whispered softly. Sometimes he wasn’t sure the trade off was worth it. He knew how much riding meant to Jesse, but the nights he couldn’t move without experiencing an influx of pain, he wasn’t so sure. If Jesse was going to put Hero into heavy training in preparation for the upcoming shows, Elliot could only imagine the agony he was going to witness. From Hero’s back, Jesse appraised Elliot with one eyebrow arched.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Elli-man. Come on. And Sasha, hurry up!” Hero stood quietly, ears flicking back and forth as he listened to his master. Sasha muttered several words Elliot wasn’t sure she should know, loudly, complaining as she worked. “Come on, Elliot. Let’s get you up on Shiloh.” He nudged Hero’s sides with his heels. The stallion moved forward willingly, his eyes bright at the prospect of being ridden outdoors.

Elliot led the elegant mare from her stall, following Jesse and Hero from the ground. Shiloh glanced around with interest, flaring her nostrils to capture the scents of the outside world. He patted her neck as she snorted, shaking her head. “Good girl, Shy.” She followed willingly, bumping Elliot with her nose every few steps, as if she was encouraging him to keep moving.

Jesse led them to the large outdoor arena. The autumn sun shined bright between the trees. The pristine white fence housed a large gap, negating the need for a gate to walk the horses through. From Hero’s back, Jesse instructed Elliot in pulling his stirrups down, adjusting them, and finally, mounting from the mounting block. Between Jesse’s coaching, and his own determination, Elliot found himself on Shiloh’s back, his feet tucked safely into the stirrups, and the reins in his hands. He heard Jesse’s quiet snickering.

“Dude, I’ve seen baby hippos with more grace than you.” He shook his head. “That was pathetic. Count yourself lucky I’m not going to make you get off and do it again.” Elliot scowled, brushing his hand up and down Shiloh’s neck. But he couldn’t get mad. Not if he wanted his chance to talk to Jesse, one on one. Something that now, with Sasha, wasn’t so easily done. Tentatively, he lifted his head.

“Hey, Jesse?” The blonde boy was fidgeting in his saddle, a look of intense concentration on his face.

“Hold on,” he muttered, his fingers moving deftly on his reins. Elliot realized quickly what he was doing. He was tying the lower set of reins in a knot. He hated using the double bridle, but it was a requirement for the high level competitions he did with Hero. “There,” he breathed, tilting his head back. “Sorry, Ell. What’s up?” Elliot watched as he stroked Hero’s glossy neck. His train of thought had crashed.

“Uh,” Elliot tried in vain to get the train moving again. “I wanted to… ask you something.” Jesse looked amused.

“Uh, well… I’m right… here.” Jesse imitated Elliot’s accent. He chuckled. “Ask me anything.” Elliot stared down at his hands, the faintest traces of pink coloring his cheeks. Jesse grinned. “It’s got to be good if you’re blushing, Ells. I’m dying now. Ask me.” The pink darkened as Elliot slowly allowed his gaze to meet Jesse’s.

“Jesse… I…”

“Geronimo!” Sasha yelled in excitement as she and Faith charged down the pathway at a trot. The teenager bounced the entire way there, clinging for dear life to the mare’s mane. The reins flopped uselessly about Faith’s head. The mare didn’t seem bothered by the bouncing child, but Jesse’s eyes grew rapidly alarmed.

“Sasha!” He screamed out her name. Hero responded to a near invisible cue from his master, wheeling on his haunches and breaking into a flawless canter. Jesse sailed to where his sister rode haphazardly down the path. She seemed amused as he leaned over, snatching the loose reins. Hero spun, matching his pace to Faith’s before slowing to a stop. Jesse’s chest heaved as he inhaled. His green eyes blazed. “If you can’t prove to me in the next five seconds that you are capable of being responsible, so help me Sasha, I’m never bringing you here again.” Sasha’s eyes widened, but Elliot had a difficult time telling if she was genuinely surprised, or just playing innocent.

“Jeez Jesse. You’re such a grump. Lighten up.” If looks could kill, Sasha would have been dead ten times over.

“Sasha, not only are horses big, they’re dangerous. Faith could have spooked coming down the path with you hanging on like that. The reins could have gone over her head and tripped her. She could have fallen and broken a leg. She could have crushed you. If you think for one second that what you did was justified, think again.” Faith and Hero touched noses, snuffling gently, as if their riders were doing no more than discussing the weather.

“But Jesse…” She trailed off, protests losing momentum as they travelled from her brain to her mouth. Something in her brother’s eyes silenced her. “Fine, I’m sorry,” she mumbled, averting her gaze.

“Sasha,” Jesse cautioned. His voice was calm enough, but it still held a dangerous edge. “Look at me.” Her lower lip trembled; she seemed to anticipate what was coming. “Sasha.” Reluctantly, she peered at him out of the corner of her eye. “Sasha, do I need to show them to you? To remind you what can happen?” Mutely, she shook her head. Elliot slowly processed the cryptic words, coming to realize what he meant.

Jesse was talking about his scars. The ones that marred his left leg. The ones he had covered with tattoos, to hide them. The same ones he had received after he, too, had been a reckless rider. Elliot shuddered, chills creeping through his veins. That accident had left Jesse with fifteen breaks to his lower leg. His knee had been pulverized. He now had metal plates and screws embedded in what little bone there had been left to work with. Being pieced together like a puzzle, Jesse had been in surgery for hours. It made Elliot’s weak stomach turn at the memories.

“Don’t,” Sasha begged softly. Her eyes shone with the threat of tears. “Don’t Jesse, please. I’ll be good.” She remembered all too well what it had been like for her brother after the accident. Elliot felt sorry for her. She had been so young then. Ten, at the most. Too young to really understand. He shook his head. The history being brought up now only made him think of his assignment, and his interrupted conversation with Jesse.

Jesse eyed his sister before sighing, dropping Faith’s reins. “I’m giving you one more chance, Sash. That’s it.” He clucked, touching his heels back to Hero’s sides. The stallion responded with a light, floating trot. Sasha organized herself, looking thoroughly put out. Elliot was torn between saying a few comforting words to her, or leaving her to stew over Jesse’s warning. Deciding that it might be good for her, Elliot turned his back on her, giving Shiloh a small nudge as he followed Jesse into the ring.


The lesson went as well as could be expected. Sasha was surprisingly subdued, following Jesse’s instructions to the letter. Elliot could see her gaze shift uncomfortably to his leg every so often. Shiloh was well behaved, moving out gracefully beneath him. By the end of the lesson, Elliot was beginning to gain confidence over his control of the mare. She didn’t’ stop to graze, she didn’t shy away when a bird flew into her path. Even Faith seemed to be taking special care.
“Okay, the mares have had it. Sasha, Elliot, fall in.” They stared. Jesse rolled his eyes. “That means gets your butts over here as soon as humanly possible.” The mares ambled over, looking longingly into the pasture next to the arena. “You guys did good, for a first time. Really good. Now, I’m going to work Hero for a while. The girls are cool, we didn’t do a lot, so you can untack, brush, and turn them out into the pasture together.” He nodded his head, dismissing the two. Elliot caught the somewhat smug look on his face. He was proud of himself for having conducted an entire lesson without anyone being bucked off. As Elliot passed by, he reached out and gently squeezed Jesse’s hand. Their gazes locked momentarily, and they both offered smiles.
Elliot was quick to pull the saddle and bridle off of Shiloh, looking forward to the time he was going to spend grooming her. Outside, he could hear the PA system come to life, piping the familiar music through the speakers. Shiloh tugged at her hay net, looking relaxed as Elliot dragged the brush over her body. He liked this time together, one on one with the gentle mare. She had given him half an hour of freedom on her back. The least he could do was make sure she was groomed well in return.

Down the aisle, Sasha was silent. Elliot wondered briefly if Jesse might have gone too far with his warnings. She was usually bubbly and bright, a little ball of sunshine. He heard her begin to mutter, too low for him to make out the words. Her pessimism dampened his elation somewhat. Completing Shiloh’s lengthy groom, he clipped on her halter and led her into the aisle. “Sasha?” Her mumbles had ceased. In response, he heard a feminine sniffle. “Sasha? Are you all right?” Elliot stepped forward, Shiloh moving with him.

“I’m… no. I’m not, Elliot.” Her voice sounded strained. Elliot tensed, recognizing the tone. Shiloh nudged his back, almost pushing him forward. He didn’t need another invitation. Taking a moment to tie Shiloh’s lead rope to a post, he moved quickly into Faith’s stall. Sasha was seated on an overturned bucket, her eyes on the ground. Faith’s black coat gleamed like satin in the overhead lights. She turned to nicker softly at her visitor before turning back to her hay. On the bucket, Sasha looked a wreck. Her eyes were rimmed with red. Her nose ran in a steady stream.

“Sasha?” Elliot approached her with caution, only too aware that one wrong move could send a person over the edge. Slowly, he knelt before the girl, taking her hands in his. “What happened? Are you hurt?” She turned her face away from him, shame clouding her expression.

“No,” she whispered. A half smile tugged at her lips. “Is that the only kind of pain men understand? If we’re bleeding, they can understand tears?” Elliot smiled and gently swept her wayward bangs away from her eyes.

“That goes for most men, yes. I’m a little different though, Sasha.” He looked at her very seriously. “I’m very in touch with my feminine side.” It worked. A genuine smile crept over her face. “I mean, you won’t find me pawing through you closet for the perfect skirt, or begging for a makeover slumber party. I’m just… I don’t know. A little more in touch with my feelings?” He squeezed her hands. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Sasha seemed to think about it for a moment before wrenching her hands away from Elliot’s, throwing them around his neck instead.

“I don’t know, Elliot. And don’t you dare blame it on ‘Aunt Flow’, because I will kill you.” She mumbled the words into his shoulder. “I’m just… I don’t know. I came to stay with you guys to check out the university, because Dad’s starting to breathe down my neck about choosing one. I came to get away from all that. And then Jesse has to tell me that he won’t bring me back here again, and reminds me about what he put the family through. It’s just… it’s all a little much.” Elliot rubbed her back, attempting to comfort her. Sometimes he forgot how rough it was for Jesse’s family back then. He forgot that other people had suffered just as much, if not more, than him. “I didn’t mean to scare him… I was just having fun. Faith loves me. She wouldn’t hurt me.” Elliot drew in a long, deep breath.

“Sasha. I know you didn’t mean to scare him. But think about it from his perspective for a minute. When he started riding, he was good. He got arrogant, and he paid for it. Despite what it looked like, he knew what was doing to your family after that. He just couldn’t stop it. He doesn’t want to be responsible for it happening again. Besides,” he hugged her. “You’re his kid sister. He loves you. If you got hurt on his watch, he’d never forgive himself.” She tensed slightly in his arms, slowly sliding out of his grip.

“How much does it hurt him?” She peered up at him through her dark curtain of hair. “And don’t lie. I’ll know. You’re a bad liar, Elliot.” She toyed with the sleeve of her hoodie. “How much medication does he have to take, to do this?” Elliot pursed his lips, looking away. He didn’t want to answer. “Please, Elliot.”

“I don’t know,” Elliot answered, truthfully. “It depends what he’s doing. The next little while is going to be tough on him, with Hero going back into training.”

“And after?” Her eyes pleaded with Elliot.

“It varies. How much medication he takes doesn’t matter. That just helps when he’s up there. When he’s back on the ground… if he’s done a lot of work… it’s bad, Sash. We still have his old crutches, and they get used on the bad days, much as he hates it.”

“Is he still going to therapy?” Elliot knew instinctively that she wasn’t talking about physiotherapy.

“Yes. He’s got a new therapist now, and he’s a little happier.” He shook his head slightly. “He really hated Roman. Probably because he associated him with the lowest point of his life. It was a weekly reminder of his own personal Hell. But this new one… she’s okay. He likes her. He talks to her.” He hated discussing Jesse behind his back, like a nervous wife. “What do you say we turn the girls out and watch Jesse’s training?” Sasha seemed to sense his discomfort, because she stood and walked across the stall to catch Faith.

“Elliot?” She wasn’t looking at him. “Thank you. For everything. Not just the talk, but… for being there for Jesse. I know you love him. And you’re special to him, too. So… thanks… for taking care of him.” She clipped the lead rope to Faith’s halter and led her out into the aisle. She didn’t stop to look at her Irish friend. Elliot sighed and untied Shiloh, leading her to the field silently. Sometimes he wondered if Sasha resented him for being the one to save Jesse. She was his sister, his family. In the end, he knew she was grateful to him, but he suspected that she wished she had been able to sway her brother the way he had.