Shame On The Night

So This Is Goodbye...

"Oi, Jojo."
Diego calls him as he comes down the stairs, his voice a bit too loud for the late hour. The children had all been tucked away in their rooms for a good couple of hours already- much to the protest of the older boys- and Hot Pants had turned in for the night around the same time. Then Gyro followed a couple of radio broadcasts after that. So it was just the two of them awake, and though Johnny had been trying to quiet his mind enough to get settled, it was clear from the way he was tugging on his riding boots that Diego was far too riled up to even consider heading to bed.
"Come outside, take a ride with me, huh?"
He didn't really have much reason to say no, and he figured if Diego had bothered to ask he probably needed the company.
"Where're we going?"
"There's a pond nearby. It's not far."

Silver Bullet is a bit more energetic than Slow Dancer while they prepare for the ride, though in truth both of them are getting up there in years. He had been a runner since the day he was born, but Dancer always seemed happier to stroll. Lately she'd preferred just to stay in, occasionally meandering across the pasture tailed by her now-grown foals. Age hadn't taken away her stubbornness though, and she kept up fine as the four of them all make their way quietly up the path.

It's still quiet as they watch the glassy surface of the lake. Just the shift and sigh of their horses and the occasional sounds of naturalistic nightlife- an odd owl from the treeline, a scattering of crickets, the thrum of cicadas against the uneven chorus of frogs. It doesn't sit right. Something about all of this makes Johnny's stomach turn uneasily. It's all too familiar. Like when they were back in England. When they were younger. When they were friends. Before the kids, before the ranch, before the race, before the rivalry- before everything. He can't stand the way the silence is creeping up the back of his neck, burning like a sumac rash.
"Diego... why'd you ask me to come out here? Why to this pond? Why with Slow Dancer and Silver Bullet, why not Switchfoot and All Shook Up or any of the other younger horses?"
He means for it to just be one question, but they all tumble out at once, fumbling over one another in his rush to escape that endless uncomfortable quiet.
"Why did you call me Jojo ?"

Diego shifts in his saddle, repositioning himself to better meet Johnny's tense gaze with his own. It's difficult to make out with the long shadows across his face, even though the two of them are sitting close together, but the calm of his expression seems somehow forced. There's a resigned grief in his voice when he answers.
"Johnny... I think we should leave."
"...What?"
"Me and the boys. I think it's time we go."
"What do you mean go? You just got here-"
"Five years ago! That house was built with... what? Six people in mind? There's eleven of us. We're all tripping over one another, it's too cramped. I have Vadim and Zemfira to think about now... And the way things are going..." he shakes his head slightly, running a hand through his hair to clear his mind.
"Did you think we were going to stay here forever...?"
Johnny falls silent for a moment, swallowing hard as he tries to process the sudden news.
"What is this about?"

His companion almost laughs, the sound becoming a huffed chuckle in his throat.
"Why do you say it like that?"
"Like what ?" Johnny shoots back, confusion and hurt turning his question into an accusation.
"Like it's some big problem you can fix. Johnny, I'm not-"
"But last time-"
"This isn't like last time! We aren't kids anymore and I'm not doing this because of some stupid guilt-fueled rivalry your father started!"
Diego curls his hand into a fist before unfurling again, a heavy sigh shaking free of his chest.
"I'm not doing this because of anyone else. I'm doing it for me. I have a few plans I need to set in motion and for those to happen I need to get to London. I'm not leaving the boys here, I can't."

The swell behind Johnny's ribs reaches a breaking point and a sob forces its way out of him, tears streaming across his face as he closes the gap between them, grabbing Diego by the front of his shirt.
"You better write me! I mean it! I'll hunt you down Dio! And you're still coming back to visit! You know that right!? Nichole and Wyatt need to see their cousins! Don't just think you can get away from us that easy-"
Dio wraps his hands around Johnny's wrists, hissing to stop shaking him.
"Let go of me- you're going to make us both fall!"
"W-what about Moses? Is she supposed to just not have her father!?"
"Moses is seventeen, Johnny! I think she'll be fine without me here. She's got her mother... And you, and Gyro."
He unwinds his fingers from fabric, leaving his curled, empty fists against Diego's chest. Diego doesn't let go of his wrists. That god awful quiet sets back in. A few tears drip down Dio's face, landing on Johnny's knuckles as he tries to start again.
"Jojo..."
"...Why does it have to be an ocean...?"

***

"Go ahead, I'll take care of the horses."
Johnny doesn't have the energy anymore to argue about it; and the weight on his shoulders is begging him to crawl under the covers next to Gyro and let everything melt away.
"Goodnight, Dio."
"Goodnight, Jojo."
"You aren't going to disappear to England overnight, right?" he smiles, though the fear isn't really hidden in the joke.
"From Kansas? Not unless I'm suddenly crowned the queen. Now go, I'll see you in the morning."
The reassurance of a bit more time seems to calm him enough to finally get him out of the barn and heading back towards the house.
"We're coming with you to see you off! All of us!"
"Go to bed!"

The work is finally done, the stables closed up again as the first few pink shades of sunlight peek over the horizon. Diego settles, still sleepless, at the table. He clicks a nail against the scratched wood as he runs everything through his mind again and again until the thoughts blur together. By the time the water is done boiling for coffee, the decision is made.
"Alright, Jojo." he says softly, the words for nobody's ears but his own, "You win."

***

"You all really didn't have to drag yourselves all this way with us. We could've just said our farewells on the ranch." Diego huffed, untangling himself from his sixth hug of the day.
"And let you get lost?" Gyro teased, ruffling Diego's hair much to the latter's chagrin.
"Or miss the boat?" Hot Pants added, the smile on her lips a much more common sight than it had been years ago.
"Besides, the kids wanted to see the ocean."
"Johnny, you're lying through your teeth, everyone can see those tears of yours. Sentimental prick."
Johnny elbowed Diego's hip from his chair.
"Whatever. Sue me because I wanted a real send off."

Eventually the time came to board, wrapped up in final goodbyes and far too many hugs and well wishes. The children continued to wave to one another as long as possible; Dio's boys still shouting from the deck down to Moses, Nichole, and Wyatt on the dock- though they couldn't be heard between the distance and the other clamor of all the other people around. The ocean liner pulled away, heading across the Atlantic and leaving the U.S. behind.

Gyro gave a low whistle, stretching his arms over his head.
"Gonna be kinda weird without the troublemakers around... Should be heading back now, shouldn't we?"
"Go ahead, Johnny and I will catch up soon. Gyro, why don't you take them all to get some ice cream?"
Once Gyro had led the trio of remaining children away, Hot Pants reached into her jacket, producing a folded piece of paper.
"Here. It's for you."
"What?"
Hot Pants shrugged, turning her attention to watching the ship continually fade into the distance.
"It's for you. I don't make a habit of reading other people's mail."
He nearly dropped the letter in his hurry to open it, hands shaking slightly as he read over the scratchy, deep blue script.

Johnny,
I told Hot Pants to give this to you after the goodbye waterworks were over, so at least keep the faucet stopped long enough to finish reading. Don't blame me if you smudge all the ink with your crying.
I'm returning to London to meet with Vadim and discuss things. I left a sum of money in the usual spot. Between the two of us, the inheritances should more than cover expenses for renovations. Enjoy the extra space while you have it. By the time we return, I expect there to be room for the lot of us and then some.
I told you I'd write.
More letters to follow,
~Diego Brando