bakerstreet | pic prompts.

John broke off from Kieran and Arthur for a bit, to go spend a little time with Abigail, wrapping his arms around her and telling her about the little trip. She teased him about his affinity for horses, his spending more time with Arthur, and his picking on Kieran so often. He sassed her about her cooking, her being mean to him, and her not seeming to care overmuch about the spending time with Arthur.

As they sat down to eat, John looked over at Arthur and agreed. "We'll get to workin' on 'em tomorrow. Really get a feel for their tempers and attitudes." He sipped a bit of beer, and pointed over at the stable with a free couple fingers. "He's shapin' up to be a damn good asset to our little experiment here. Almost makes me feel bad about holdin' a gun to his head." Only almost.

Dutch had been over at the paddock before eating, having a look at the new horses his boys had brought in. "Good work, boys," he praised as he returned to grab some supper. "The horses seem to be of fine stock. That foal looks like she might grow up to be stunnin'." Once he clapped them both on the back, he looked over at Arthur, and gave the man a nod. "Now you gotta teach the O'Driscoll boy how to approach my horse." Whether it was half a joke or a genuine order couldn't be told from his tone, but he was more than happy to have a task for Arthur. Keep the man busy.

Arthur chuckled at that. "Yea, he's become a good help. Who knew?"

He looked up at Dutch when he spoke, agreeing, "We'll see, foal will be easiest to train for sure." He laughed again at the order, "You should be teachin' him that Dutch, The Count barely listens to me ya know!" Like the horse remembered he tried to ride him once and still didn't forgive him for such indecency.

After dinner and clean up, everyone went about their separate schedules. Arthur lit a cigarette and went up to the paddock where the new horses were, watching them shift about, still nervous but they'd settle in time. The tiger striped stallion was quite a beast and after some observing, figured him and the mare with the foal to be the leaders of the herd.

"Got a lot of work ahead of us still" he sighed to himself. Even though they were far better off than they'd ever been, ranch life was proving to be an unending stream of tasks.

Arthur put out his smoke and went to his room, closed the door and shifted to sleep on the floor.

Morning came to the ranch well and comfortably, and things started picking up again. John had gotten ready for doing the two things they were setting out to do. It would take a while to put in fences, so instead of doing that the whole day, John suggested they do part of the property for fencing and the other part of the day could work for calming and training the horses. For now, though, he stuck to hauling the wood to the edges of the property, having Uncle come by to dig holes for the posts.

Uncle, unsurprisingly, kicked up a fuss about helping. Lumbago was left out of the discussion, minus the once when John threatened to beat him if he said that word again that day. Even though he never would do such a thing to the old man, Uncle relented.

Hauling the posts was the hardest part of the job, having to bring them out so far, one at a time. John had considered taking a cart and horse to deposit the wood, but it gave him time to set his mind to working, to getting used to this life, now that they had it.

When he was taking a break, having a cigarette as he leaned against a tree, John looked over at Arthur. "You know where the next town over is? Might need to go there to see what they're lookin' for in terms of horse stock."

Arthur slept like shit despite remining in bear form. Charles not being there beside him was more detrimental than he thought it'd be. He'd come to rely on the man, especially since returning to the gang. But it was hard to say if it was good or bad.

He said nothing of it of course, he had his breakfast, a second cup of coffee to help wake him up and then he and John went out with Uncle to begin work on the new fence. Uncle dug holes while they hauled the posts. Tomorrow he resolved they'd get a cart and move all the wood that way. The back and forth pace was really tiresome, and made things go too slow.

Arthur sat down and drank deeply from his canteen, looking up at John at the question.

"No, ain't really explored much of this area" Once he and Dutch set their sights on this place, they hadn't talent the time to scout the rest of the surrounding country much. "Can go to Fairview tomorrow, find out where the next town is"

John nodded to that. He figured they could both scout around once everything was settled enough that they had the time to. John was getting antsy; his life was such that he hadn't spent much time in one place in his life, and his restlessness had become a little too much to bear. No pun intended.

He looked around them and had a thought. "I think I'll take one of the new ones out," he said of the horses, "Get it acclimated to bein' rode. Scout around here a little, see what's in the forest." Of course, he'd be armed to the teeth on the off-chance that old bear MacDougall wasn't the one out in Big Valley, and was actually still around.

"By yourself?" he asked, partly because, yea, he was worried about the other bear too, but also...

With Charles gone, Arthur looked for any distractions he could find.

While Uncle's, Hosea's and Dutch's assurances were grand and all, he was still new to it all and, for the first time he was reaching out, holding tight to the gang, as if they'd slip through his fingers if he didn't spend every waking hour with at least one of them.

"Come along." It didn't take more than a second of thought on John's part. Truth be told, he was hoping Arthur would want to come along. After his disappearances, John had come to realize that there was a lot of things that could have been going through Arthur's mind when he'd fucked off for that year. The worry, pain and sadness itself had stabbed him in the heart. This man was his longest, closest friend. He wouldn't deny him the company.

Besides, having two around would be safer. As if he needed an excuse.

"Alright" he nodded, a smile tugging his lips, he then sighed and looked at their work thus far. "Let's go back and load up a cart, I'm tired of hauling posts all the way out here one at a damn time."

They returned to the wood pile and did so, filling a cart with all the posts they figured they'd need while Uncle hitched up one of the drafts to it. Progress was far quicker and they got a significant more done before calling it a day, with minimal Uncle complaining.

The next day, the two men resolved to go to Fairview, find out where the next town was and then have a gander about the area. Arthur would leave Edelweiss behind in favor of also beginning to break in one of their new horses.

Getting saddles on their new mounts was the first struggle, the animals were wild as could be and did not like having things on their backs. Arthur's chosen one was the stallion, whom he'd come to name Khan after Shere-Khan the tiger from The Jungle Book.

"Come on, it's just a saddle, ain't gonna hurt yea none" he said finally getting the girth strap around his belly. Khan gave an annoyed snort in response.

The lucky part of it was that it would make the next time's effort in putting in the fencing was going to go infinitely faster with that effort. Of course, had they listened to Uncle in the first place, they'd be twice as far finished - or at least that's what he said as they brought the posts to the cart.

But once at the pen, John knew that the brindle would be Arthur's favored horse - it was tall and strong, and beyond spirited. John, for his part, was taking a more firm approach to the blue roan mare. He was still careful, still gentle, but his voice was sharp as he said "Calm down!" Not that it helped, except for to have the horse do little dances around him.

Eventually, though, John figured the way to do it. He got her calm, brushed her down, speaking to her the whole time, gave her a little snack, and finally managed to get the saddle blanket on her back. It was only a matter of putting the saddle on after that. Bribery seemed to work on the pretty lady, who he named Peggy, another very bland name.

"That's my girl," he crooned to her as he slowly mounted.

Once that drama was finished, John led the way out of the pen, and trotted out, a rifle over his shoulder, his revolvers and knife at his hip.

Once they were off property, John relaxed his shoulders, and headed up a deer path into the trees.

Arthur had long since stopped questioning John's taste-or lack thereof-for naming animals. He idly wondered what Kieran would name the one he tamed. Maybe he'd have one by the time they got back.

They bid folks good day and rode out with John, loaded up as well. When they hit the main road they headed on to Fairview, checking in with the clerk at the post office about any mail and then asking about where the next town was located.

They got some basic but easy to follow directions and continued their trek. Would take them a couple hours to get up to Aberdeen but they could assume they'd be back to the ranch before dinner depending on how much exploring they did in between.

Was nice to ride out, just for the sake of it. Since they got here it seemed like most rides were into town or to hunt. Arthur quickly found Khan to be a stubborn bastard of a horse, and while he didn't spook when a flock of birds took flight, he made every mile a fight it seemed. They stopped for a rest midday by a creek.

Arthur recalled training Edelweiss to be easier, but then again Khan was a herd leader, a fighter and protector. Edelweiss he'd found on her lonesome in the Grizzlies, taking to the saddle easier because she saw Arthur as a leader, not to mention maybe a ticket to a better and warmer life than the snow she'd wandered or been born into. He'd not give up, not by a long shot, Khan would learn, slowly if necessary, but he would.

Peggy was, for the most part, a bit of a brat, but seemed to only be kicking up a fuss when Khan did. John figured it was her way of showing deference to her leader - something to which John could relate, even if begrudgingly. She had the propensity to delicately dance away from the edge of the road, taking as close to the middle of the path as she could, and gave him a bit of a hassle when he tried to get her to take turns. Patting her neck and praising her every time she took to a new command easily, John found her a quick study.

There hadn't been many horses like her, in John's life. Old Boy was a stubborn cuss, and his horse before Old Boy was damn near perfect, save for he wasn't quite fast enough to sprint away from wolves in the snow.

Man, he missed that saddle.

But he put all the thoughts of horses aside when they had a rest, John pulling out some smoked, cured meat, handing some strips of it over to Arthur as he ate, drinking deeply of his water.

"I've been thinkin'," Always a bad plan, "I know you've gone back to havin' trouble in sleep. Do you need someone near? Kinda like Charles'd done."

Arthur would have grabbed the saddle on the way back from rescuing John as he knew just as well as anyone in the gang that a saddle was a pricey thing to lose, but, wolves. Less worries about money now though.

How much had changed since Colter...

He was drawn out of his thoughts of what sort of town Aberdeen might be at John's statement and he narrowed his eyes. He'd hoped that had gone unnoticed but he must be making enough of a fuss at night in his sleep for John to notice let alone bring it up.

"Don't know." he said shortly, a subject he was tense about talking about, but, after a moment he continued. "Charles was the first to come to me after what happened at Vetter's Echo, no idea if my...comfort in him is exclusively to him or not. Why? What you have in mind?"

"I don't know, I just..." John bowed his head then nodded it, looking back up at Arthur afterwards, having to sort out how to articulate what he was thinking, "I could look after you 'til you get to sleep. At least 'til you get more comfortable. Abigail knows I don't get much sleep at nights anyhow, and she don't expect me in bed with her 'til late. She'd be likely to be okay if I looked after you a while."

He turned to look at the stream, strangely serious. He had vague memories of having been looked after by Hosea just after getting pulled in by the old men who'd saved his life. John was no stranger to nightmares, to memories that plagued him in his unconsciousness. Having Hosea looking over him at night made him rest easier. Maybe he could pass on the favor to Arthur. Maybe it'd work.

Arthur cocked an eyebrow, not expecting that from John.

After a moment he nodded, "Okay."

Maybe it'd help.

He finished his dried meat and had another sip of water from his canteen. "Alright, let's push on to Aberdeen." he said

Edited 2021-08-14 23:01 (UTC)

Taking to his feet, John nodded again, walking to the horses. It was another bit of a trial to get Peggy calm enough to mount her again, as she tiptoed in a side cant away from him, snorting in opposition to the idea of going anywhere she didn't feel like. "It's okay, none of that," he said, and finally got up on her.

"Pretty sparse out here, people-wise. I could get used to it."

"Out here or you mean by the ranch?" he asked as they rode.

Both were true but he was glad of the location their new home was too.

Arthur figured when they decided to settle on some land they might have some nosy neighbors or the like, but so far, the formally MacDougall ranch-they still hadn't collectively decided on what to call the place-was pretty remote. Made sense really when he thought about it. If MacDougall had been a bear before burying his wife and babies, a place set away from most other folk would allow him to transform and wander with minimal interaction with locals.

"Both." Once John knew Peggy wasn't about to veer off into the tall grass, and was just fine with her pace on the center of the road, he lit a cigarette and sighed out that first cloud of smoke. "It's nice to have somewhere close enough to civilization that it's got the creature comforts, but it's far enough off where I don't think we'll be messed with."

He may have been born and spent the first years of his life in the city, but there was no goddamn way he wanted to live in, or near one. Being in the sticks had become the most comforting place to be. Hardly ever did they have problem with folk when they camped well away from a town. And hopefully that held true with the ranch itself.

It felt like a camp, but now that there were buildings there, it felt... A weird, comforting sort of different. That his misgivings in Dutch had been mostly unfounded.

Maybe it was because he knew that there was no reason to fear men anymore. Sure, if they were found by federal agents, or Pinkertons, or even just some idiot bounty hunters, they had the guns, the fortification, and Arthur all there to defend what they worked so damn hard for.

"How's your new boy? He looks like a stubborn one." he said, motioning with his cigarette at Khan.

"He's being stubborn as hell but we're workin' through it" he said, patting the stallion's neck. Khan tossed his head with a snort.

After a moment Arthur asked, "Say, you uhh, you really mean what you said? About lookin' in on me?"

It was unusual, even at the height of their comradery, to be so open with each other. Course they'd looked out for one another, apart from when John first returned. Arthur was so bitter for what he'd done to the gang and to Abigail and the kid, he kept his distance, thinking he might sock him in the jaw-again. But things had changed. A lot.

John turned to look at Arthur, a bit shocked that it was even in question. His expression neutralized a couple seconds later, and he nodded once. It was another few seconds before he responded verbally.

"It's been rough between us. Probably always will be, given what I done." He took a drag from his cigarette, then looked down the road, and continued, "But we looked out for each other before that, and I don't see a reason why that's gotta stop."

Looking back over at Arthur once more, John lightened up a bit. "I'm a little offended you even have to ask."

Arthur nodded, it had been rough. And while he might one day be able to forgive John, he would never forget. But he also knew some of that internalized hate towards what John did was his own problem. He'd put the gang before Eliza and Isaac, before his own damn child. At times he knew he weren't much better than John for walking out, but he had the benefit of hindsight, and therefore hoped he could knock some sense into the man.

John had been making an effort, a serious one at that, especially since settling at the ranch. Hell, he and Abigail now slept in the same room again.

At the statement he chuckled, "Yea well, neither of us ain't been good at the whole bedside manner thing." Arthur had stuck beside John while he recovered from his wounds from the wolves, but while he worried while he slept-infection a serious concern up in that cold-he prodded fun of him when he was awake.

"You don't say." John kept the dour expression but his voice spoke amusement. "We don't gotta be. You known me since I was twelve, Arthur, you know I was never so good at comfortin' words. But it ain't about the words. Bein' there. That's what matters."

Something that fed into John's entire mindset - actions speak louder than words - also fed into this one. What mattered the most was the act of care, no matter the bullshit everyone always spewed. They lived with a bunch of bullshitters, professionals and hobbyists alike, and John wasn't the type. They could paint all the pretty pictures they wanted, but he was honest. Brutally so. And actions could never lie.

"You been here for me. Why's it that you feel I don't gotta repay the favor?"

Edited (salad is delicious, word salad not so much.) 2021-08-17 00:34 (UTC)

"Don't know, maybe its because I'm used to looking out for the gang so much it feels strange to get so much back, I mean so much so quickly" he answered. "Charles coming to find me, Dutch listening to me, Hosea comfortin' me, now you...When I first found out what I was, I weren't sure if I should stay with the gang, not only because I thought I might hurt someone but that they wouldn't accept me."

True, some hadn't, the reality that shifters existed and one was now one of them was likely hard to swallow, but the majority had.

"Anyway, I'm just glad you are."

"I know how that feels. Not... the bear thing, obviously, but the worry about acceptance." John took a final drag from his cigarette and flicked the remains out towards the road. "I woulda been back three months before I showed up again if it weren't for that. Milled around, drunk, worried to even consider returnin', on the chance that I'd be turned away, shot, or worse. I knew not everyone would accept it, would want me to be welcomed back."

He turned to Arthur. "I knew I hurt a lotta good folks by my leavin', and that was on my own free will. You didn't have much a say in what happened, Arthur, and besides, no matter how much folks give me hell over bein' Dutch's favorite, his pet," Bill had fucked him up with that one, "I ain't. Never been. You're his first son. Ain't nobody shine brighter in his eyes than you." There was no animosity in his tone, no jealousy. It was just a matter of fact.

"Besides, everyone knows you. Knows you ain't gonna go off on some wild tear, 'cause despite what we do - did - for a livin', you're a gentle man."

Arthur listened, wondering if he would have been less hard on him if he'd returned even a couple months sooner. Impossible to say really, but he could guess not. Abigail had already begun to rely on him to help with Jack when it was clear John's leaving was no short vacation. More than a few times he considered taking Abigail's hand in marriage to make it official and not allow the boy to grow up without a true father. But every day he saw she loved John in a way he could never understand, nor break through.

So he'd remain "Uncle Arthur", and when John returned and continued to ignore the boy and Abigail, he felt more than a bit bitter and regret not at least asking her.

Now though, the amount the little family loved one another and the effort John had put in to make it work had impressed him, and made that bitterness less so.

Arthur knew he was Dutch's favorite, he, Hosea and the old man had been the first to come together. The Old Guard. But up until the bear incident he'd started to feel like he'd become the errand boy.

As for being gentle, he laughed, "That sounds so strange coming from you."

That love, despite their two-way screaming matches that still went on, even after they'd moved onto MacDougall's plot of land, was soul-deep. John had no intention of leaving Abigail, and had come back solely for her and the boy (really, more for her.) There was something there between them that he knew he'd never find with anyone else in the world, even if he went everywhere in the world to find it. He'd lucked out, and he knew it. And she managed to find someone who, despite his frequent lack of charm, cared enough to consider her dreams, her wants, her desires, and try to fold them into his own.

But Arthur had done the honorable thing. As usual. And John wasn't particularly displeased by it. Sure, it gave him a bit of a complex regarding needing to live up to the standard Arthur set, but he couldn't fault Arthur his stand-up behavior. In fact, he hadn't said anything about it, but he'd admired Arthur for stepping in.

It was one of the many reasons he'd been trying so damn hard these past few months; for one, he'd worried Arthur wouldn't be coming back. He realized that without that safety net there, he had to do what was required of him, as a man and father.

But secondly, and really more truthfully, he really did want to do right by the older man. Arthur didn't just lightly step aside once John was back. John got one of the sharpest lectures from him upon his return, and John took his lumps from it, both figurative and literal. Hell, Dutch didn't even go so far. Sure, Dutch had him unnerved and rattled for the weeks that followed, but Arthur's lessons were the harder pill to swallow, and the better pill to take.

"Don't get used to it comin' from me," John said immediately in response, his own tone taking a more lighthearted path. "You're a pain in the ass and a shithead, but you're gentle in the ways that matter." Something that John could never be, or at least not something he felt he had within him just at the moment. He had absolutely no plan for changing who he was to do what was required of him, even in this not-so abrupt shift in the gang's lives. He could change what he did, but he could never change who he was.

"It's that gentleness that gets you walked all over, anyway. Gets you..." Strung up. But John waved his hand in refusal to finish that sentence. It would bring up fresh, stinging, still bleeding memories for Arthur, he knew. "Point is, you don't got it in you to be as wicked as you act. Everyone who stuck around knows it. Even Kieran Duffy."

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