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Prompt: Turnt down in the snow.

[A day has passed since their last catastrophic set back and while Gyro's words had cut some of the pain there were still a lot of wounds to nurse. In fact, Johnny hadn't said anything after they finished the wine. It had been a painfully long day and retreating to rest and quiet was, at the least, not unexpected.

But it was well into the afternoon and Johnny still hadn't spoken up again. Miles in the cold with dull pain throbbing through gun shot wounds and silence. They should have talked. They had to plan their next course of action (further out then surviving the day) but he just didn't have the energy. They had found and lost two corpse parts in the course of one day. How was he supposed to think about the next ones yet?

However, no matter how foul a mood there was no way he would ignore the needs of Slow Dancer. He had been waiting on Gyro to force them to stop and set up camp but it looks like he couldn't be completely checked out forever. And the afternoon wasn't getting any longer. It took some throat clearing before he was sure his call would carry through the wind and the snow but there it is.]

Gyro. Camp?

[Ugh. His voice was still raspy from all the ~~crying~~ shouting yesterday. His face was perfectly emotionless though. As always.]

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[Johnny's silence is nothing new to Gyro, at this point. He's no stoic, but it's usually Gyro doing most of the chattering and Johnny chiming in when it suits him, and falling silent to ignore him until he shuts up or whatever other attitude problem Johnny has on a given day. It's just the way he is - Gyro is used to it. It's usually funny, to wheedle Johnny while he sulks about little things like Gyro knocking their pitiful food stores into the dirt, or whatever.

He's used to those silences. This one is new, and different, and uncomfortable. It's a heavy silence, and Gyro has stopped trying to break it with comments that vacillate between meaningful metaphors and off-color gags. As the night dwindled he eased off to give Johnny some thinking space, but now that it's the next day-- he'd rather have the guy at least call him an asshole instead of whatever he's doing.

There's no easy way to breach the subject of how much they gained and lost in such a short time. Gyro keeps thinking about it, but everything he comes up with is stupid and irreverent, so. Here they are.

He almost doesn't respond when Johnny speaks, but blinks himself out of his thoughts as if he just remembered they're still riding. Camp. ... Alright.]

... Yeah. I can't see a thing through this goddamn snow... [He reins in to a stop and squints through the storm, then motions for Johnny to look at what might be an abandoned cabin worth crawling into.] How about there?

[The silences of the wild Johnny Joestar: angry or depressive.

Either way, the normal response seems to relieve him and he actually continues the conversation past a grunt. Not like nonverbal responses would go far in this weather. He raises a hand to shield his eyes, as if that will let him see further.]

Worth a shot.

[And with that decided Johnny promptly turns towards the splotch in the distance without another word. Thankfully as they near it actually does prove to be a cabin. Albeit an obviously abandoned one. Old drafty walls were still better than camping out.

Now, if this were a normal day Johnny would tell Gyro to start a fire already, he's freezing his ass off. But today still wasn't normal and the words die on his lips even as he turns around. He just can't bring himself to yell at Gyro so soon. Instead he sighs (just slightly!) and busies himself unfastening their freshly stocked packs from Slow Dancer's back.]

It should do.

[Where Gyro would usually facetiously complain about Johnny going ahead without waiting for him, there's another silence. He thinks of the words too late and then says nothing, making no sound but a sigh the wind carries off as he turns Valkyrie after Johnny and follows.

This is bullshit, for the record. Now he's acting all fucked up, as well! What gives! He makes a face, one that mercifully has passed when Johnny turns around to tell him--more nothing. Alright.

Bullshit. He pulls Valkyrie up next to Slow Dancer and slides out of the saddle with a snowy crunch. Well, now's the best time to say something...

But nah he's just going to tend to his horse, his horse who wouldn't ignore him for like twenty hours like a whiny fuck. Eventually, he peers past the horse to look at Johnny.]

It's too windy to start a fire next to this piece of shit cabin.

[The worst part of this shitty mood is that Johnny isn't even aware of how much of a corner he is forcing Gyro into. Not even aware that Gyro is two hundred percent less chatty than he normally is. He's just that trapped up in his own head, debating every choice he did and didn't make. He should probably have at least thanked Gyro for getting them out of there alive but it's pretty late for that now.

Horse care is first priority though and Johnny wasted no time in starting at the same time as Gyro. Although because of the snow he does make sure to throw one of the least important bags down first to give himself an almost dry landing point. Oversized parka or not there was no need to sit on the fucking snow.

He is almost done rubbing Dancer down when Gyro voices his complaint. Johnny looks at him and then at the cabin and... the shitty place really didn't have a chimney. Who the hell builds a cabin this far north and doesn't include a fucking fireplace? Finally some emotion! Irritation.]

Guess we're eating cold tonight. Is it even big enough to act as a wind break for them?

[If they actually have to still build snow structures for their horses this is the worst cabin in the world.]

[Bitching about their crappy home for the night and also horse care is a good enough start to get talking again, at least. Gyro welcomes the full sentences but purposely doesn't let it show on his face - which isn't hard, considering he's just as irritated about the cabin's shittiness as Johnny is. But it's either this or crawl into a snowbank...

He looks up; the storm's more wind than heavy snow at this point, so there isn't enough snow collected on the roof to risk falling down on their poor horses. The wind itself is still a problem, but they'll have to deal with it.] From this side, I think so. If it changes, we'll just have to come out and move them.

[Rather than building snow houses in such an erratic storm... This should work. When he finishes up with Valkyrie he'll come around to where Johnny is to grab the food bag and stick his face in it. Aggressively forcing some normalcy here, maybe, shh.]

Do we even have anything that's good cold?

[Baby steps are welcome. It's just a good thing that Gyro didn't actually show such a face. It'd only make Johnny feel even worse.

No way around it. At least the storm seems to be dying down. [He gives Dancer a fond pat, she's stayed outside through worse. At least they were in a stable last night to rest.

With the utmost subtly as well. Johnny shrugs at the question, it's not like he even remembers what is in the bag since they bought everything in a flurry yesterday.]

Can't really see the stores with you head in the way. [Uh. That didn't come off as his normal sarcasm did it? He is so off tempo. He really doesn't want Gyro to think he is actually mad or something. UH.] We should talk about it inside. We have to bring everything in anyway.

[Wow thanks Johnny... at least his head isn't part of a tree right now... Thankfully Gyro mostly ignores that, as he really would like to know what they have to eat that won't be dreadful and depressing like their last non-meal of shitty wine was. Hmm!

That said,] Yeah, yeah, I'm going.

[He hoists that bag over his shoulder and stoops a little awkwardly for another one with his arm still minorly messed up. Bags into the cabin, then some crappy food, then sleep. That's a good enough night, right?

No, it's bullshit!! Gyro makes it to the cabin door before his shoulders slump just for a second - the next he's upright and pushing the door open with a flourish, and turning back to face Johnny and speak in a made up "fancy" accent:]

Welcome, sir, to our finest chateau! Freezing your ass off thanks to drafty doors is included free of charge!

[And he goes headfirst into half of a bow (so he doesn't spill the bags, he thought this through), waving his arm again. Take this half-gag. Take it. Tell him in a dead voice he's funny.]

[Honestly, it was a miracle that Gyro was letting Johnny dictate the pace of their conversations for as long as he did.

Johnny was right in the middle of thinking he fucked up again when the little show started. He sits in shocked silence through the entire joke. Gyro had done that yesterday as well, continually try to lighten the mood after everything that happened. He couldn't even keep track of how many times he tried to make the wine less soul crushing than it actually was. This was another one of those life lines right here. A stupid bit about a chateau. Whatever that was.

The silence lasts longer than normal. Maybe long enough that Gyro might actually second guess the gag. But Johnny will hold up his end of the bargain. With his schooled expression he points up at Gyro.]

Ah- Good one. The drafty door part was especially good.

[Gyro holds his pose for that pause, only looking up at Johnny when it's gone on long enough to be awkward. But ah- he got a reaction. That's better than nothing. He straightens up and turns on his heel to actually go into the cabin now, waving his free hand like no, no, you're too much!!

He's almost convinced. They'll have to talk about something inside, that's for sure - Johnny was right about that.]

You think I should take it on the road? You can be the unwitting guest who always finds the worst places to stay.

[Which is sort of like real life! Anyway, let's go, little guy.]

[Johnny will regret the mention of talking instantly when they start becoming Talks. Dammit, Gyro.

But in his blissful ignorance he will follow into the cabin. Wow! The winds are reduced by at least half! How amazing. It's truly a sad affair though with only an old table and a few chairs. The only saving grace is that a mattress was still on the frame and it wasn't rotten through. Quality doesn't even matter.

There is a small hum as if Johnny is really thinking the offer over.]

Yeah, you could. The audience would eat it up. [He pushes one of the chairs and watches as it rocks on uneven legs.] I'll need a fifty percent cut, of course.

Fifty? [Gyro, incredulous, like this is a serious business deal they're making over here. He watches Johnny move the chair and then tests the table with a nudge - it doesn't tip over, so he'll put the food bag down and start rifling through for something worth eating. Oh, and,] If you really pull your weight, I couldn't say no.

[As for food, they'll have to settle for cold canned sausage on bread. The sausages would be better warm, but the bread won't keep on the road that long and it needs at least some flavor. This is culinary art. Or, Gyro busying himself preparing some shoddy sandwiches without consulting Johnny, because shut up Johnny.]

Ah-- damn, we can't make coffee. [honestly the worst. well, come get a sandwich.]

[You're saying this isn't legitimate business talk? Preposterous! Johnny pulls himself up onto the uneven chair once it settles and takes the sandwich. Look at this full concierge service, bag carriage and dinner to boot.]

It's a deal.

[Maybe this would be fine. To just keep talking nonsense and not bring up anything that happened yesterday ever again. Just treat it like another fight long enough and maybe he'll even be able to look back at it normally like every other near death experience they've survived already. The same way he will think back ruefully to this cold, greasy sandwich.

The lack of coffee is really a moral hitter though, so after a few more thoughtful bites (chew) he speaks up again.]

Maybe the wind will die down enough for a small fire tomorrow morning?

[It's not the most optimal use of time trying to start a fire out in that snow but no coffee... That would just be the crowning moment of shit in an already super shitty week.]

[What a beautiful snowang. This feels like a picnic!

Now that he's mentioned coffee, he really would like some. That's not as much of a punch in the feelings to Gyro as it is to Johnny, but damn... they really are just barely above rock bottom right now, aren't they? Gyro shrugs as he settles into the other rickety chair and picks up his lame sandwich.]

It can't snow forever.

[Which he honestly doesn't mean to be symbolic or anything, so don't get weird about it. They're just eating dinner now, and it could be worse - they have food, and a good enough shelter, and even some sort-of-okay furniture. The possibility of fire is gone, which would be fine, if the fire in Johnny hadn't gone out with it.

God fucking damn it, Johnny. Gyro eats half his sandwich almost robotically, not caring about the food much at all. Then he puts the rest of it down on the table and sort of flicks at the crust, which is as dismissive of a sandwich he can probably be.]

Johnny. This sucks.

[There is nothing more that Johnny can say to that so he just nods. Coffee will happen soon and he will be able to just breathe and look forward again. Gyro's still here, both of them alive, and they are still in the race. Nothing about their goals has changed. They just have to get back all the corpse parts including the ear and arm again.

It shouldn't be so hard to be happy. Something he's told himself for how many years now?]

Yeah. [..........] You could have at least used the cheese.

[Johnny shakes the sandwich a bit. Please, don't go into it. He didn't get this far in life by talking about his problems out loud.]

[Fuck the cheese. Gyro gives Johnny a look; his usual at first, a look that says Johnny can make his own sandwiches from now on if that's how he's going to be-! But then his mouth flattens into a thin line, and he picks up his sandwich again to have something else to look at.

Thanks for putting the responsibility of starting this all on him, you little whiner.]

The cheese sucks. [So there.] All of it sucks.

[He takes a bite, thinks about how much he'd like to punch Johnny in the dick, and resolves to grow up and do something about this heavy, miserable stasis they're in. They've come this far, and even if the corpse parts mean less to him than winning the race, if Johnny...

Well. Gyro speaks without looking at him, because he suspects he won't be able to get the words out at once if he does,] Johnny, do you still want to solve the mystery of the 'corpse'?

[He's said almost these exact words before, and it's a similar response he's seeking; something, anything from Johnny that sounds like there's something left in him. Gyro can't go on going through the motions of his jokes like those conversations mean anything--after the way Johnny was when he returned yesterday? As if.]

Why are you still 'here'?

[For the briefest of moments it almost looked like Gyro would let it pass. That they could end that conversation before it even began, for however many times Johnny started to doubt himself during this race. But he never did. It was probably one of the best things Gyro ever did for him.

That didn't make the question any easier to face, of course. With it so blatantly thrown at him there was no way for Johnny to ignore it. But what exactly could he say to Gyro? That he was scared? Scared of all the times he has almost lost everything in so many different, horrifying ways. How many times has he come face to face with all of his ugliest sides during this race already? Could he handle much more? He almost sacrificed Gyro for some mummified ears! He might not have much experience but that didn't seem like the way back to 'zero'.

And yet he can't lie to himself. No matter how much he screws up his face, the prospect of stopping here smarts even more than everything they've lost. A blast compared to the still quiet, Johnny slams his fist against the table. For the first time that day he finally makes direct eye contact with Gyro.]

Of course I do! There's no way I'm giving up now!

[And yet.

The anger drains as quickly as it came and he can't keep up eye contact. Coward. It's his fault for underestimating how far the president and his men would go, but he still should never have hesitated. Their brush with failure was his fault so he owed Gyro some words.]

I almost ruined everything.

[For all that fist hitting the table is a surprise, Gyro doesn't flinch. He holds that eye contact like a lifeline and waits. It's good that Johnny still has that "hunger," Gyro thinks -- the "hunger" he himself supposedly lacked. He can only do so much for Johnny from the outside, after all, and if there's no spark left in him to kindle, Gyro doesn't know what he'd do.

So. Good start. But he doesn't feel the weight in his chest ease up yet.

Then "I almost ruined everything." Gyro frowns. He doesn't need to ask what that's about - the fool he'd be if he did, honestly, it's the crux of the whole thing. So Johnny almost let him turn into a tree. He didn't in the end, but by his own admission the corpse parts have given him purpose, and he had to throw them away for Gyro's sake.

So what does that make Gyro in the grand scheme of things? His stoic expression crumbles; he sighs and leans his elbow on the table and his head against his hand. It's the ball hitting the net, sort of, and it's abundantly clear that Johnny should never have to make that decision. Gyro isn't sure if he feels more worried or guilty at this point - he is the one who threw all that stuff in to get the parts...

Although Johnny did almost let him turn into a tree. Gyro tilts his head on his hand to look at Johnny again.]

Almost. Only 'almost.' [That's not much, but--for now.]

We're not down and out yet.

[What did he ever do to deserve Gyro? He had been an asshole his entire life and yet here he was given that final shred of hope to cling to and it all revolved around some Italian weirdo. Maybe only Johnny was aware of this, it's definitely something Gyro would deny, but that only made the current state of affairs worse. Well, he already started before and he couldn't let himself stop now.

Another sudden movement, doing it before he can think it through, he grab's Gyro's arm. As if a physical connection will help him get his point across.]

Listen.

[Just talk. After all they've been through this isn't the thing that will make Gyro hate him.]

Only 'almost' isn't good enough. I was completely useless back there! You beat the terrorist, you spent all the money! I would have died caught up in grabbing a gun even when you had everything figured out! Hell, I would have died months ago if not for you! And even after all that- [He finally falters here. On reflex he turns his head down, in a vain attempt to blink pinpricks of tears from his eyes.]

And I would have let you go. I really almost did! Not down and out? You were almost fertilizer! Just get fucking mad already!

[The vice grip remains. A blatant contradiction as Johnny desperately holds on, almost testing to see if Gyro will shove him away. He knows the answer. They've traveled a full day together anyway. Hell, they shared that shitty wine. But Johnny has never called himself smart before.]

[it's like johnny forgot the time sandman left gyro for dead in a fucking lake and johnny had to do all the work

Anyway. Gyro listens, like he has a choice at this point. This was the point, to make Johnny actually talk to him - it's working. He remembers the idea of "hunger" again and thinks this must be the honest difference between Johnny and himself; where Gyro can say but you didn't, Johnny can only say I would have.

Still.] Moron. [Of course he doesn't push Johnny away - he was never going to. He does lift his free hand to reach over and flick Johnny in the forehead, though, for emphasis.] You really think I'm not mad at you?

[He can feel more than one thing at once, really. He can. It's just that he's worried about Johnny this past day more than he's been angry--sure, Johnny almost let him turn into a fucking tree, but Johnny's been moping around and practically catatonic since then. That alone doesn't inspire Gyro's unconditional forgiveness, but it's a bigger concern than cursing him out.]

Well today's your lucky day, Johnny! I think you're a prick! [He pokes him in the forehead this time, a very aggressive and angry action that isn't just silly. Look, he's great at this.] But--

[annnnd fuck.]

When you were just sitting there... I thought, 'What if he doesn't get back on his horse again?'

[He worried about you, you ungrateful fuck. Take his meaningful horse questions.]

[That time in the river also had Johnny desperately crying and screaming that he couldn't do it. Another day he thought they were dead for sure.

Johnny is braced for much worse than childish name calling and forehead flicks. Even if he flinched at being called "moron". Gyro will never just give him a good punch, will he? And yet some of the tension fades. Mild as it is, he is angry. Anything is better than the ceaseless worrying and carefully considered jokes to lighten the mood. Hopefully Gyro doesn't start calling him a masochist or something similar soon.

And then worrying tone comes back but it's fine now. Even if the first emotion it elicits is confusion. So much so that Johnny looks up again and Gyro should be smart enough to not comment on the tears. But... Not get back on his horse again?]

The thought never crossed my mind...

[What would he be without this race and Slow Dancer? A pathetic cripple doomed to die alone. The corpse was his final hope to be more than that, but he still had Slow Dancer to get him there.]

You seriously thought that?

Do you know what you looked like, sitting there? [That's only kind of an answer, but it tumbles out of him before he can stop himself all the same. It's honestly good to know he was wrong, as much as Johnny's reply makes him look like the idiot here.

He will not comment on the crying because he wants to live through the night. But he sees it. That's not helping Johnny's case at all.]

Fuck, Johnny! Are you serious? [Well, at least it's easier to just talk now that they've started something-] You wouldn't say a word to me all day, you asshole!

[That is not cooperative race buddy behavior! Still, Gyro believes without question that Johnny means it - now that he's heard it, anyway. He feels that gap between them again; people like Johnny, and Diego even, with that drive they have... Even after figuring things out for himself, Gyro doesn't think he'll be able to relate to that drive anytime soon. His own drive is too different.

A look crosses his face that betrays some of his thoughts; that distance, uncertainty. But it's overtaken a moment later by a hard frown. Oh yeah, he's angry!!]

I said you could come with me on this race, not drag your ass behind me.

[The conversation almost breaks down right there. Johnny almost got defensive about his shitty behavior until he realized that Gyro was completely right. He wasn't by himself any longer, hadn't been for a while, and he completely excluded his friend for a while there. This wasn't the time to retreat back to being an asshole. Not yet.

So he lets out a sigh as he really sits and thinks about it from Gyro's perspective. Yeah, okay. There is no defense. It's not like he should expect Gyro to read minds or something, even if Johnny thought he was a lot more put together. He taps his fingers against Gyro's forearm, agitated about forcing those harsh walls around his feelings down.]

I'm sorry.

[Be a man! In another totally didn't happen moment Johnny uses his free hand to swipe any lasting tears away because this is a serious conversation. He can't be all weepy and whiny right now.]

I'm really sorry about everything, okay? I am an asshole. [And then the faintest smile, Johnny's version of a joke.] But this is what you signed up for by letting me tag along.

The biggest asshole. [Hmph! Gyro's apparently satisfied enough with that apology to nod seriously, like agreeing that Johnny is a rude asshole makes everything less aggravating. It kind of does, but at the same time... No, this isn't what he signed up for at all when he told Johnny to come with him. Company and the occasional Spin lessons sure aren't anything close to corpse parts and--this. Almost turning into a tree.

Well, he's not in over his head yet. Johnny should probably leave the bad taste jokes to him, all the same.]

Listen, just-- [use your words like a big kid next time? don't go off the deep end and make him worry like that? breathe??] focus on the path ahead, right? We've still got shit to do.

[And what is this using his arm as a prop? He moves his arm to swat at Johnny's hand - stop poking him, you weirdo.]

[It was only a day... A one day ~~depressive state~~ sulk is perfectly fine. Honestly, Gyro worries more about other people than he should. It was a good point most of the time but Johnny had no idea how he kept up that level of caring all the time. Maybe it was a doctor thing. This high level of compassion. After all, if their places had been switched he probably wouldn't have taken almost being a tree this well.

Even with the loud emotions out of the way Johnny was not ready to let go. There was a wound rawer than any bruise and even with all this frank talk he can barely look at it head on. He had said that the thought had never crossed his mind, that he would never stop racing but that was because Gyro was still here. Because he didn't go through with that almost. He still seizes up when faced with the option that his companion would not be continuing on with him. He can't lose Gyro.

So after that swipe he grabs again. It's the only point he will not concede. He has to hold on to him, just for tonight, since he almost let go of him before. This time he makes contact with that impossibly soft hand and it only takes a second to switch his grip from desperate to something more appropriate. Accept these turbulent emotions, Gyro.]

Yeah. I have to win second still, after all.

[He was only almost a tree for like, a few minutes... Let's just not talk about the actual, literal feeling of almost being a tree, because that's honestly freaky and gross.

Johnny grabbing his hand is not what he intended to happen just now, but after that moment of lingering desperation, Gyro finds he doesn't have it in him to shake him off again. Maybe he really is too compassionate... But they're both here, no one is turned into a tree, and things might just be looking up a little after losing it all yesterday. He'll hold hands in a shitty cabin for that.

He'll also wisely not say anything about it directly. Leaning his other arm on the table again, he points at Johnny with a little bit of his usual overblown seriousness about the race coming through.]

That's right. If you let that bastard Diego take second, I'll kick your ass.

[The very thought of his winner's position being soiled by proximity to dinosaurs...! Disgusting. He leans a little to poke Johnny in the head to punctuate "kick your ass" and subtly squeezes Johnny's hand at the same time. Unruly emotions... accepted.]

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