Realistic or Modern Second Chances

[Cindella]

Setting: Modern
Genre: Drama, Angst, Romance

General Plot:
She’s from a small ranch, 20 miles away from anything. Surrounded by her family and animals, she is completely oblivious to the lives of most of the people from the city. She can ride, and rope and in almost every way she is a perfect cowgirl.

Three years ago, her mother died, and she inherited the family ranch that her mother had turned into a sanctuary for injured horses. Since then, every month she’s headed to a different horse sale, saving one or two who are destined for the meat market. Until one month she meets Storm. Half mad and completely distrusting of humans. Even with her expertise she isn’t sure what to do with him. Until she recognises him from a poster on her wall.

Four years ago, his name was everywhere. A 19-year-old who along with his horse Storm Struck was winning almost every competition going. It seemed that together they would concur every Show jumping, Dressage and Cross country competition in the world. Nothing was too much for the two of them together. Until he was invited to the Olympic Eventing Trials. Despite his age, it was no surprise to anyone when he came out of the Dressage at the top of the score board and going into the second phase it looked like he would finish far ahead of anyone else. However, as the final jump approached, Storm spooked and took the jump wrong. Horse and rider landed in a tangle of limbs. The accident left him with a damaged spine, at least five other broken bones and other injuries it took him almost two years to get over. While in hospital, he sold Storm who was relatively unharmed by his ordeal.

Now he’s now your typical bad boy living in a cramped apartment in the center of the city. But then out of the blue he gets a call from a girl who claims to have his horse. She wants him to come and see Storm, to try and help rehabilitate the horse he abandoned four years ago. The problem is he’s determined not to be around horses ever again and she’s not the sort of person who ever gives up on anything. And if he’s the only way to help Storm heal, she’ll do everything in her power to get them together.

Ranch Layout
​

 

[Celestiel]

You didn't ask for this, nobody ever would, caught in the middle of this dysfunction Matthew West

Dean Corey
24 years old
Male

Black hair
Striking blue eyes
6'4 ft tall
Athletic build

 

[Cindella]

Blake Whitlocke
22 Years Old
Female

Blonde | Green Eyes | 5'5 | Lean Build​

 

[Cindella]

Blake frowned as she sat on the top rail of the pen where the horse auction was taking place. Currently there was a sorrel mare being rode around, and her mind was elsewhere. She was thinking about her mother again, and the reason why she was here. She was here in memory of her mother, who liked to attend these auctions on the off chance of finding a horse who needed to be saved. Black wasn't sure that she was going to ever live up to her mother's legacy, but she definitely had a knack for reading horses. It had only been three years since her mother died, but she was determined to keep her dream alive. So when an aggressive grey stallion was brought into the arena, she didn't hesitate to place her bid on him. Hardly anyone took chances on them except for Baldy Owens, the man who bought and sold horses for meat. By the end of the auction, she had three new horses to take home; including the grey stallion.

A sigh escaped her as she laid on her bed that night. Every day she'd tried to earn a little trust from the stallion, but nothing seemed to be working. He was so angry, and she didn't understand why. When the vet came out to check him, he was healthy so there wasn't any physical cause for his aggressive behavior. Sighing, she rolled over on her side and glanced over at her wall where posters, pictures, and show ribbons were pinned. Her eyes raked over them, wishing her mother was here to give her advice when she stopped on a old calendar from 2014 that she still had up. The picture was a grey stallion and she bolted upright in bed, surprise on her face. She flung herself out of bed and over to the picture and snatched it off of the wall. Was this aggressive horse Storm Struck?

She quickly made her way back into the living room and booted up their old towered desktop computer. While it wasn't new and fancy, it got the job done for what she needed: to research the whereabouts of Storm. She had already known that his owner sold him after winding up in the hospital for so long, but after that she lost track of the horse's whereabouts. Eventually she was able to piece together a vague timeline. Since he was unharmed in the accident he was sold to another competitor to continue his Eventing career, but he just lacked the will to perform as well as he used to. With such a negative review on his career, no one wanted to take a chance, and slowly the horse started to get more and more aggressive with each new owner.

Sitting back in her chair, she wondered how to help a horse that was so angry with the world. Briefly she wondered if his first owner would be able to help. They had a beautiful bond and perhaps that would be enough to at least get the horse to trust her... It was worth a try. By the end of the night, she'd made many phone calls and finally got quite a few dead-end numbers for people claiming to have Storm's old owner's number that she'd decided to give up and start again tomorrow.

The next morning she was sitting in her dining room, sipping her coffee when an angry whinny sounded out behind her grandfather's house, followed by the thudding of hooves on the ground. From her position in the dining room, she could see out the window and across the back yard to the round pen where a grey stallion paced anxiously around the small pen. He had only been here a couple weeks, but the horse was not settling down any. She couldn't believe that she owned this horse, Storm had been the number one horse back in 2014 in 3-Day-Eventing. Remembering why the horse was with sent a pang of pity through her.

Sipping her coffee, her phone lit up with a notification of a new text message.

Here's the number. Good luck.
515-088-1964

She'd tried everything she could think of to get the horse to calm down, but nothing seemed to work and he was terrified of even being touched. Her shoulder still ached a bit from where he had bit her when she first approached him. Steeling herself, she tapped on the number and pressed the call button. Hopefully this wasn't a bad idea. When the line picked up, she wasted no time talking.

"Hello?" She asked, "I'm sorry to bother you. My name is Blake Whitlocke, I'm trying to reach Dean Corey. Is this the right number?"​

 

[Celestiel]

"Martin, Martin, Martin...", Dean hummed softly, the tip of his knife running down the smaller guy's cheek just lightly enough to cause no injury.
The look in his his eyes was weary, but his true mood was covered by a cold smile.
"I told you how often to stay away from my brother?"
"T-two times...", The other guy whispered while he dug his fingers into the small bag of white powder in his hand.
"And why", he whispered, his voice dangerously soft "are you still here then?"
"I-i-i don't know sir-"
Dean nodded slowly, like a parent who was tired of hearing their teenager's lame excuses.
"Didn't I make myself clear the last two times?"
"N-no-"
"Did I maybe ask you too nicely?"
"N-no-, i-"
"Sh-sh-sh-shh", Dean whispered, holding his knife sgainst Martin's lips as if it was his index finger.
"How old is my brother, Martin?"
"F-fifteen-"
"Should fifteen-year-olds be offered drugs?"
"No sir..."
Dean nodded. His knife was slowly running down Martin's lips and chin, leaving a thin, superficial cut on his bottom lip and chin.
"This, Martin, is my last warning, okay? Next time I won't be so nice. Now, what are gonna do now?"
Martin was shivering by now, eyes closed as he suppressed a silent sob. "I'm going to leave and never come back."
"Good boy."
Dean put his knife away and let go of Martin's neck, who immediately dashed away in an impressive speed.

Martin was the local drug dealer, and ever since Dean had bought some stuff from him a couple of years ago, he was trying to get Connor, his little brother, hooked on stuff too.
Dean knew first-hand how hard it was to stop, once you had started taking stuff, so, after he had finally done it, he was doing everything to prevent Connor from going down the same road.

The rest of the day went by relatively eventlessly.
A fight with some ass in a bar, but nothing serious. A black eye basically was his number one signature trait by now anyway.

When he was laying in his bed that evening, listening to the show Connor was watching downstairs, he rewound the past few years, as almost every evening.
The accident...
It had taken him over two years until he had been fully recovered, and only about one year later, his and Connor's parents had disappeared during a holiday trip to Columbia.
Back then, he had taken Connor in and their aunt Miranda hat moved in as well, to help the two. and ever since, they were living together.
Sure, it was hard work, living with a teenager like Connor while Dean himself had more than enough problems on his own, but what else was he supposed to do? Connor was his brother, after all.

And as almost every evening, Dean caught himself wondering how Storm was doing right now. Was he okay? He had never seen him compete anywhere again. Was he even still alive?
He sighed, turning on his other side, but his night was, as always, overall sleepless.

It was early, too early on the next morning, when his phone rang.
Groaning silently, he picked up- internally swearing that he'd chow the caller out if they weren't calling for a really DAMN GOOD reason.
"Yeah... Dean Corey", he grumbled into his phone. "Whoever you are, I hope you have a friggin good reason to call me at a time like this..."

 

[Cindella]

Blake startled at the gruff tone on the other side. However that was soon forgotten as the person identified themselves as who she was looking for. Her surprise at actually getting in contact with them caused her to drop her phone to where it clattered on the table before she managed to get it back up to her ear.

“Oh! Sorry about that... I dropped...” she mumbled as she trailed off before starting again, “Uh, like I said, I’m Blake Whitlocke and I run a horse rehabilitation farm and.. well to cut to the point, I have your horse Storm.”

She wasn’t even sure that he would be interested in hearing about his past so she got everything else out and a quick rush.

“He’s really aggressive and not safe for anyone to be around. I’ve had him for a few weeks now and he’s not getting any better. Your my- his last hope.”

After getting her speech out she waited with bated breath for his answer, he heart beating wildly as she hoped he would not reject her plea. She couldn’t imagine letting them put the horse down, and she knew her grandpa would would if the horse posed too much of a threat to her well-being. Which he had voiced more than once about the crazy stallion.​

 

[Celestiel]

Dean clenched his teeth as he held his phone a couple of inches away from his ear when suddenly all that came from the other side was a commotion.
"Jeez, what-" but then she already apologized, explaining she had dropped the phone.
He just rolled his head while he slightly so his head.
What a great way to start his morning.

The name 'Storm' however caught him off-guard.
Yes, he had given up on riding after his accident, but he had never blamed Storm. He hadn't sold him for revenge or because he saw let in him than he was, but for the mere reason that he didn't want a house like him to end up rotting in a stable. He had so much potential. That shouldn't go to waste.
No, the reason why he had stopped riding was that every time he had tried to approach a horse after his accident, he could feel panic building up inside him.
He knew there was no reason too feel like that, but people also knew that they didn't have to be scared of house spiders and still were. Fears weren't rational.

But Storm...
While part of him wanted nothing more than to go and help his horse, no, his friend, another part of him was breaking into cold sweat at justvthe thought of working with a horse again.

He knew it was pathetic, to refuse helping this once amazing horse he had loved like a friend and still cared deeply about, but he knew he literally couldn't help.
He'd just stand there Frozen in place.

"I can't help you", he simply said, his voice cold before he- cowardly as he was- simply hang up.

 

[Cindella]

She sat there in stunned silence, unsure how he could be so cold-hearted. A spark of anger rooted in her and she felt her face flush. No, she wouldn't let him ruin the last chance this horse had for surviving. However, calling him abruptly back and yelling at him would probably cause him to block her number. So she sat and stewed for a good half hour before going outside and standing outside of the pen that Storm was in. A sheen of sweat had broke out over his body again, both from the heat and the anxiety she was sure he was having. She attempted to coax him to her with feed, but her presence only seemed to upset him more. Eventually her turned and charged at her, causing her to drop the bucket of feed as she jumped back. Sighing, she left him along and went inside the barn to finish her morning chores.

"Hey guys." She said as four heads popped over their stall doors as she entered the barn.

Blake walked up to each of them and gave them a good scratch before going about and filling their feed bins. Around this time, one of the ranch hands made their appearance.

"Mornin' Blake." He said, tipping his hat as he walked into the tack room.

"Morning, Tim." She responded.

Tim was her Grandpa's lead ranch hand, who helped him run the place when her grandpa couldn't since he was getting older. Her brother, Jackson, would have been the person in that spot had he not decided to go to college out of state. She couldn't blame him for that, but she knew that college just wasn't for her right now. Maybe farther in the future, but right now she wanted to focus on helping horses; both her and her mother's dream.

Once the stalls were cleaned and the horses were brushed and turned out into the front pasture, she pulled her phone back out and dialed Dean's number again.​

 

[Celestiel]

Right after Dean had ended the call, Connor had stumbled into his room, cold sweat in his forehead.
He had looked as if he had just been chased through hell by a serial killer, but Dean could tell from the wetness in his brother's eyes that he'd had another nightmare.
Every since their parents had disappeared, Connor was being haunted by dreams of their death.

"Did it happen again?", He asked carefully, whereas the boy just broke down into tears and sobs.
Dean carefully helped him stand up and let him to his couch, where he, once they were sitting, wrapped one arm around his younger brothers shoulders.
Yes, he was a bastard and a no-good and an asshole in basically every kind of way, but when it came down to Connor, Dean's personality made a 180 turn and he turned into a big brother who cared deeply about his sibling.
"Connor... You should really get professional help with your nightmares... You know, there are resorts where traumatized people can rehabilitate and-..."

He was caught off-guard by his brother's reaction, who shook his head.
"I don't want to leave you alone, Dean. Miranda would be so worried for me she'd want to come with me. I don't want you to be all alone here. You lost your parents, too..."

Dean bit his lip at that. Yes, what Connor said was true, but no matter what, he couldn't keep watching how the nightmares slowly drove his little brother to the breaking point. He'd have to find a way to convince him, no matter what that meant for him. Dean had always been the tougher one anyway. But he knew, Connor wouldn't take some crap phrase like 'don't worry about me, I'll be fine'. The hot knew him far too good to believe that.

For just a second, he considered telling him that he'd go and help out on a ranch to convince him, but he knew that wasn't enough.
when his phone rang again, he recognized the number immediately.
"I'll be back in a second", he mumbled, still thinking.
Connor didn't want him to stay at this place alone when him and Miranda would go to that resort.
so basically, he needed a place to stay where he'd be around other people for that time, to hopefully convince his little brother.
He however couldn't afford a shared apartment and also wasn't interested at all to live with someone he didn't know.

"Dammit-", he mumbled, staring at his phone for a while before he picked up.
"Blake it was, right?", He sighed defeatedly.
For his brother, he'd even go and seek Atlantis with nothing but scubas and a snorkel.
"Fine. I have two conditions though- I won't ride. And I need a place to stay."

 

[Cindella]

"Yes, and I-." She started to speak but was cut off by him listing off his requirements.

She had prepared a speech about how Storm would be put down if Dean didn't agree to help, and that he wouldn't be required to do anything but stand there. Banking that he wasn't as cold inside as he had sounded on the phone at seven in the morning. Thankfully, she didn't have to resort to begging him to come, since he was giving her stipulations for him coming. Once again, she was stunned into silence by him and it took her a few seconds to recompose herself.

"Deal." She said quickly. "I won't require you to ride him or any horse for that matter. And we do have a place for you to stay on the ranch."

It was in the stable, up in the loft they had a bed and small room cut off from the barn, but it was better than nothing. Besides, she had no reason to believe that he wouldn't have a problem with the living quarters. They had renovated it a year ago, so there was electricity up there, along with an older television that picked up a few static channels through their old satellite.

"Did you need a ride here, or are you okay finding the place on your own?" She asked, giving him the address of her family's ranch.​

 

[Celestiel]

what did I just get myself into..., Dean wailed internally while he wrote down the address Blake gave him.
"I'll just take my car", he answered her question, and while he was glad that he now had a point in his discussion with Connor about going to a resort, he was also, well... completely and utterly freaking out internally.
Thank god he was a good actor.
"I think I should be able to make it to your ranch around noon. See you."
After saying goodbye to Blake, he went to tell Connor and Miranda the news.
Connor seemed sceptical, but Dean could see he was relieved that he was finally able to go and get the treatment he needed, as well as Miranda.

Within one hour, he had packed a duffel bag with a couple of his belonging.
He'd better pull this off quick, like a bandaid, or he'd just leave himself time to freak out.

During the car ride, Dean busied and distracted himself with singing along his favorite song; mostly Linkin Park, Shinedown and Three days Grace.
The ride was over far too quickly, in his opinion, when he pulled over to park his car a couple of feet away in front of what seemed like the main house.

Only now that he was walking up the dusty driveway, carrying his duffel bag on his back, one could see that, even after four years, his injuries still hadn't fully healed, and probably never would.
A long, thick scar cut through his skin from his elbow all the way down to his wrist, and he still was limping slightly.

"Blake?", He asked, a faint frown on his face. "We talked on the phone, I'm Dean."

 

[Cindella]

After getting off the phone with Dean, she couldn't help the smile on her face. Perhaps Storm had a chance after all. There was still a couple hours to go before noon, so she decided to busy herself with working one of the other horses that was afraid to go over jumps. The horse had been spooked after a nasty fall and didn't have the confidence to attempt another jump. Luckily, Blake's reputation on rehabilitating horses was locally known and the owner decided to give her a chance. She was often the last resort people took. Most didn't believe that she had the ability to do what licensed trainers charged them an arm and a leg for.

She quickly warmed the horse up by riding him around to loosen him up before riding near the fences. For a solid forty minutes she did this, until the horse didn't shy away from walking near the jumps. Eventually she felt confident that he could stand to go at a fast pace around them and let him lope around the arena and between the jumps. It wasn't until she tried to steer him towards a jump that he locked up and she went sailing over the jump by herself. She heard an anxious whinny and the sound of hoofbeats making their way towards her before a prickly muzzle snuffed her hair. She groaned from the wind being knocked out of her and stood up.

"Okay, maybe another join-up session and you might trust me enough to go over one of them again." She said with a smile, stroking the horse's forehead as she got up and dusted off her jeans.

The sound of a vehicle approaching caused her to look towards the house then pull out her phone to look at the time. It was noon, and she couldn't believe how quickly time went by while working with the horse, but she decided to leave the horse inside the arena with the jumps. Perhaps it might help him overcome his fear on his own. Until then, she walked up the side trail towards the car port as the male exited the vehicle. He looked a lot different from the four year old calendar she'd had with his and storm's face on it, but she didn't comment on it. She stopped a few feet away and let him get out before introducing herself after he spoke.

"Yes, I'm Blake." She said with a smile, "Thank you again for coming. I can show you to your space unless you want to see Storm first?"

Truthfully, he'd see Storm on the way to the Barn, but she wanted to give him the option of actually going up to him or not. From his comment of "I won't ride" she assumed he'd gave up his passion for the animals, but as to why she didn't know.​

 

[Celestiel]

Dean took a moment to take in his surroundings. No asphalt too be seen anywhere, no traffic, no skyscrapers...
Even back when he had still been actively riding, his family had always lived in The city. They just had never been able to afford living in the countryside. Back then, Dean had taken three underground trains and a bus to leave the city and get to Storm to train and see him.
He had spent the weekends sleeping in the hay with Storm, knowing that this horse would never cause him any harm.
They had trusted each other so deeply, had formed a bond that even went beyond those of some human friends... And then this one accident had taken it all from them.

Dean had never denied that it had been his fault, though.
He knew, if he had found someone to take care of Storm for him while he was recovering, if he had had the strength and courage to sit back in the saddle, their friendship would still be the same today.
And that he had refused to help just a couple of hours ago made him just feel even more guilty than he did anyway.

He just wanted to answer Blake's question, when he heard a far too familiar neighing in the distance.
Storms voice had always had something... Rough and raspy, like a man who smoked too many cigarettes.
The sound sent the strangest sensation through his very core;
On the one hand, a happiness and relief suddenly washed over him that he had almost forgotten; but on the other hand, fear and panic gripped his guts with I've cold claws.

"No, i- I think it'd be better if I put my stuff away at first...", He muttered, his face even paler than usually.
"So...", He sighed silently while waiting for Blake to lead the way "... What's wrong with him? Are you keeping him in a pen or paddock with a sand or sawdust floor? He needs hay or grass or something similar; something that doesn't raise dust. It makes him anxious. And when he's outside, try to provide his food and water on a higher position. The height of his chest should be enough. He's scared to lower his head all the way to the ground. You know, Storm is... He's special and he isn't easy, but-"

Dean faintly shook his head as an expression of embarrassment too over his face.
It probably seemed totally bonkers how he refused to go near Storm while he obviously still cared deeply about him and knew him better than anyone else.

 

[Cindella]

Blake smiled at his explosion of questions and information about what Storm does and doesn't like. Listening to him speak about the horse, she knew that he still cared about the horse more than anything. From that, she concluded that there had to be something else going on that caused him to sell his horse. However, that was not her place to ask... unless the horse needed it to recover, then maybe she'd ask him.

"You don't have to feel embarrassed talking about him like that. I do that to just about every horse here so... I won't judge." She chuckled, then settled into a more serious tone, as she led him around the right side of the carport, across the back yard, and towards the barn. "Storm has been highly aggressive since I, and his last three owners, had him. He won't let anyone near him, and when I try he gets so worked up that I thought he was going to pass out from over-exertion. Nothing seems to be calming him. I've tried using Valerian in his feed to help calm him, but it works for a few minutes and then he's back to pacing the arena."

She gestured towards the tall round pen that he was currently trotting around, agitated. A breeze had picked up and the horse slid to a stop and gave a loud, confused snort. Blake also stopped, stunned at the horse's reaction to them. It was the first time the horse seemed to acknowledge anyone, and she knew he hadn't stopped on her account. Her green eyes flicked over towards Dean.

"Ever since he got here, we haven't been able to get near him to properly brush or handle him." She commented quietly, her eyes back on the horse. "He's never even acknowledged one of us unless it was to charge at us. You may not think so, but you're already making a difference."

She started forwards again, leading the way towards the barn, looking back to see if he was going to follow or go to Storm. ​

 

[Celestiel]

Dean, despite of course hearing Blake's attempt to make him feel less awkward, just remained silent as the stars as he followed her, caught in his own mind.
He honestly wasn't sure about what he should get worked up first;
Connor's psychological problems, Miranda's obvious insecurity about how to take care of a kid like Connor, or his panic whenever he was near a horse; that seemed to get worse with every passing year, by the way.

His attention was drawn away from his sorrows when Storm's presence washed over him like a wave, cold and hot at the same time, calm and agonizing and exciting and terrifying.
He froze in his tracks, staring at the beautiful, dapple grey stallion with the dark grey mane and tail streaked with hints of white.
"Storm...", He breathed while his stomach tied into a knot and the lump in his throat became almost painful.
Just as back then, he could feel Storm's feelings, anxiety, surprise, he was a mess.

Taking a deep breath, he took a slow step closer, but the pictures flashed back into his mind, the accident, the pain, all those months spent in agony and fear, praying that the sensation would return into his legs, that he'd be able to leave the wheelchair behind...
It had been a nightmare, and it had begun on the back of a horse.
He had tried, had really tried to get back into the saddle, but every time he came closer to a horse, he almost fainted.

His hands were trembling badly as he just stood there, staring at Storm, who stared back. Only when he started to feel nauseous, Dean realized that he had stopped breathing, and gasped silently for air.
It took him a few seconds until he managed to torn his heel and pace past Blake without looking anywhere but forwards, hands still trembling badly.
"Didn't you want to show me where I will be staying?", He mumbled reservedly, still not looking back.

 

[Cindella]

Blake could feel the energy polarizing between Dean and Storm and she opened her mouth to speak, and let him know it was okay to go up to him if he wanted. However the moment passed and Storm gave an angry snort and started pawing at the ground. Blake bit her lip as she watched him toss his head and start pacing around the ring again, seemingly more upset than he’d been before catching Dean’s scent.

Her eyes moved from the horse and back over to his first owner. His slight tremble didn’t go unnoticed and she found herself wondering if he was upset at what happened to storm, not knowing the full truth of what being around horses was like for him. She cleared her throat slightly as Dean turned and walked past her, following their original path across the yard, asking about his quarters.

“You’ll be staying in the loft.” She said catching up to him. “There’s electricity and an old television that picks up a few channels now and then. But the only bathroom is in the house, unless you want to find the outhouse off down between the campground and front pasture.”

She gestured towards each place she spoke of, unsure if he was really listening to her. His voice had sounds closed off and guarded when h asked about where he would be staying. Briefly she wondered if he’d reject the place. It may not be a five star hotel, but it did the job it was meant for.

“Usually it’s pretty quiet in the barn at night, so you shouldn’t be keep up too late by the horses.” She continued, walking up to the entrance of the barn.

Two horses poked their heads out fo their stalls and gave her a vocal welcome. There was one on each side of the five-stall barn; a palomino and a chestnut paint, each with their ears tipped forwards as they watched the two humans approach.​

 

[Celestiel]

Dean stopped in front of the barn doors like a vampire who hadn't been invited to come in.
His face, white as chalk, was frozen in an expression of despair.
If it hadn't been for his little brother and Storm, Dean would've turned his heel and hit the road back home right now, but the well-being of those two was in his hands right now; and that mattered much more than his fear.

"The b-barn...", He sighed while he wiped a few pearls of cold sweat off his forehead, eyes wide as he stared at two horses looking at him.
He knew it wasn't their fault, hell it wasn't even Storm's fault what had happened, but he just couldn't get his mind to control his heart.
That had always been his problem, even back with Storm. Back then he had known that keeping Storm would mean years of exhaustion, pain and throwbacks, but he just didn't have the lack of heart to give up on this horse.
Back then, it had been Storm who had been in his place- scared, anxious, unable to let go of his fears.
But, Dean realized, Storm had moved past it and had become a horse that had left entire audiences baffled.

Didn't he owes him to be brave enough to move past his fear now?

"Okay I'll just- I'll just get my stuff up there and-"
He took a deep breath while walking in, past the two horses, but his heartbeat picked up, the lump in his throat took his breath, he was dizzy, so dizzy-

Dean stumbled, leaned on the wall for a moment before he pushed on, but by now he could hear some hissing in his ears, while his knees lost their last bit of stability.
He could feel his spine aching again, and though he knew it was only psychosomatic, it only made his growing panic worse.

"This was a bad idea...", He whispered to himself, looking back at Blake with wide, terrified eyes, like a scared puppy looking for the support of its owner.
"I eh- we might have a little problem-"
But before he could end his sentence, one of the horses pushed its nose against Dean's back, just where his spine had been broken years ago, and Dean finally lost his consciousness to his panic for good, his head making a painful whacking sound as he got the ground.

 

[Celestiel]

[you still there...?]