Jack stared up at them for a long time, something about them aching with familiarity. Right where the conference was, there was statue of two black horses, forever frozen in battle, heads tossed skyward. At least, it looked like they were battling, but Jack'd known more than one cry for affection that hadn't looked too different than the horses' battle-pose. And who was to say they weren't trying to climb into the sky on the backs of each other, teeth bared in determination instead of held forever in snarls? Yeah, he liked that version better, he decided.
And from that day forward he wanted to believe those horses could have made it up there, and if he looked hard enough at the stars he'd find them someday, grazing contentedly side-by-side.
'Cause the truth was he knew they were locked in a battle, but it didn't matter what he knew, as long as he chose to believe something better.