A/N: If you're interested in learning about the delay, check my profile. Thank you so much to everyone who's been in my DMs, encouraging me, and praying for me. It's what I need right now.

Rain pelted me in the face as I struggled to follow Cyclone's hoof prints. The rain came down harder with each passing minute, blurring the hoof prints and dissolving them into nothing but muddy indentations. Soon, the rainwater would wash all traces of Andy away.

I could feel panic slowly setting in, my heart racing faster as I realized I was losing the trail. Alamo puffed loudly and I suddenly became conscious of just how hard I was running him. It didn't matter, I was a man on a mission and Alamo rarely had to work up a sweat like this, one good run couldn't possibly hurt him. The canopy of pine trees above me started thinning and I looked up, watching the dark storm clouds swirl ominously. We emerged from the woods and looked out onto the farthest pasture from our property. My eyes scanned the tall grass and I made out a darkened area where the dry grass had been flattened.

Andy.

I urged Alamo forward, cautiously following the trail; I knew very well how many abrupt drop-offs there were in this pasture. We'd lost many a steer in this one, falling to their deaths in the most terrifying way possible. I prayed to God that the same fate hadn't befallen Andy. I cursed him out under my breath, ready to clean his plow for running off. He was mad at me, (rightfully so, I lamented) but he sure did have a way of making things difficult. Since when did running away from your problems ever solve them? In all honesty, I didn't really believe I'd end up scolding him, I just wanted him to be okay. I was too scared to be mad at that point.

I jerked my head up as I heard an unusual noise through the racket of the raging storm. I pulled Alamo to a halt and listened carefully. It sounded mournful, like a wounded animal. Was it…? Sobbing?

Oh my god, Andy!

I followed the sound of his wailing into the woods on the other side of the pasture. As I approached his hunched over figure in the grass beneath a ponderosa, I spotted Jonesy's contraption laying haphazardly in the grass, visibly broken. Cyclone was nowhere to be found.

Rain soaked my jacket and my hat as I quickly dismounted and ran over to my distraught brother. He looked okay from a distance, but when I finally found myself kneeling in front of him, I realized his face was scratched and bloody.

"Andy," I cried out, "Say something, boy. Are you okay? What were you thinking, running off like that, you could've been killed!"

Andy looked up at me, tears in his eyes and staining his gaunt face. His chin trembled and his teeth were clenched. He tried to speak, but he kept shaking and crying.

I grabbed his shoulders and held him steady.

"Hey," I said gently, "Hey, it's okay Andy. Just calm down, take a deep breath. You're okay. It's alright. I'm not mad at you."

He finally uttered a few words, broken, somewhat incoherent. "Cy…cy-cyclone. He..he g-got scared…of the th-thunder an he, an he…he dusted m-me and I lost him."

Oh boy, a lost horse. One of our favorite steeds no less. Well, now was not the time to worry about the spirited animal. He'd keep himself safe in the meantime.

"Andy, it's okay," I reassured him, "Cyclone will come back. He knows where home is. Don't worry about him."

"Its all my fault," Andy sobbed.

I sighed and hoisted him up, carrying him like a tired toddler towards Alamo. I placed him in the saddle and held him in place, brushing the rain and tears from his face; he'd lost his hat as well and had nothing to shield his face from the storm. I grabbed my own stetson from my head and placed it on his, looking him in the eyes.

"Listen to me," I started, raising my voice to make myself heard over the wind, "None of this is your fault. You were only reacting to my poor decisions. If anything, I caused this. Jonesy spoke some real sense into me back there and he's right. About everything."

Andy steadied himself and held my stern gaze. I could tell he was mulling over the things I said. He never used to do that. He'd always take everything I said the second I said it, he'd never have to weigh whether or not I was telling the truth. That's what I did to him. I challenged his trust in me, his faith, his sense of belonging, his bond with his own family. Because I was so, so selfish. I shut him out, I lied to him, I became bitter, negative. All he wanted was someone to lean on and turn to in a dark time and I wasn't someone he could open up to. Me…his own brother. I then understood just how much he was hurting. He'd been hurt physically, unable to walk and do the things that he used to love, and me treating him like something inhuman had hurt him emotionally as well. How could I have let my own issues with Jess cause me to neglect my brother like this? Lost in my own personal hell, while he was living in one all by himself, something no boy his age should have to go through. I could lament for ages, but there's no point in pretending I can go back and change the things I've done. The best I could do was move forward, and change things for the better. Show Andy and everyone else that I can do so much better. That I'm still the person they used to believe in…I'm Slim fucking Sherman and I'm gonna fix this mess.

"Andy," I started again, "I'm here for you. For real this time. I've been a horrible older brother, but I promise you, things are going to change around here. I'm gonna try my best to do whatever I can to make things better for you, for everyone. Pride is a hell of a drug and I never should have held onto it for so long. I want you to be happy, I want you to walk again."

Andy nodded, but as I spoke the latter, he shook his head.

"Slim," he choked out, "I'm never going to walk again."

"Bull," I said shortly, "Jonesy has a surefire way for you to regain movement in your legs. He had the right idea, having you ride Cyclone. You need to get out, you need to move, you need to be happy. There's risks involved with everything, but if you have to do this to get better, I'll help you every step of the way."

Andy looked at me steadily, and pursed his lips. "Okay," he murmured.

I mounted behind him and grabbed the reins, turning Alamo towards home.

"Come on," I said, "We've got work to do."