AN This entire chapter is just a gross self-indulgence. Like...seriously. It's all Horsemen and their horses and I love it.
Jenny's new home was a small cabin in the woods. It apparently had been a Hessian's summer home, or at least, it had been up until the day before she had been turned. Since then, it had undergone an intensive purging of the owner's possessions. When Jenny first walked in, the place was bare, gutted of everything but basic furniture and kitchen accessories. The cabin was small, a solid rectangle that had been divided into four rooms. The front of the cabin was a long swatch that acted as the living room, with a small bedroom sectioned off in the far corner. The kitchen was next to the room, a miniature space with a small chunk of wall separating it from the living room that created two large entrances on either end of the kitchen. The bathroom was nestled between the kitchen and bedroom.
Jenny chuckled to herself, seeing just how little there was in the house. The living room had a bookshelf, a couch, and tv at one end, with a table at the other. The bedroom had a bed and a night stand, while the kitchen had a mini table. And that was it.
"This place is practically Spartan," Jenny sighed, giving a light kick to the bed frame. It was probably a good thing the place was so empty. Otherwise, it might have reminded her of Corbin's place, the good old fashioned and rustic Americana vibe gently clawing her insides out.
She sighed again, wondering how the hell they expected to furnish this place, when all she had for transportation was a horse.
Outside, her horse gave an indignant whinny, making her jump.
"Alright, so the thing's in my head, too."
Jenny wasn't sure if that was very helpful, or very creepy.
She leaned against the door frame to the main living space, eyeing down the place. The other Horsemen had at least been able to go to their roots, Abraham to his family's carriage house, Henry to the place where he had been born. Jenny, however, was left alone in a stranger's house.
Jenny had been in and out of mental wards, and sometimes even restricted to solitary confinement, yet she had never felt quite so alone.
Jenny worked around the problem of not having a car by stealing one. She could have certainly asked a Hessian for one, as they seemed to exist to do the Horsemen's bidding, but she wanted to be able to do something by herself.
When she left the house, her horse immediately came out of the small single car garage that was his new stable, eager to go somewhere. Jenny compulsively reached out and stroked his neck, her distaste from before vanishing.
"We just went riding," she murmured, almost laughing at his disappointment. "I'll be gone for a few hours, just hold tight, okay? I'll bring you back a whole bag of apples."
The horse snuffled at her neck, making her laugh.
"Yep, I know, sounds amazing. We can eat apples and go play until the sun goes down when I come back, alright? Go graze in the pasture over there, if you get hungry. And if it smells bad, don't eat it." Jenny smoothed her hand over the horse's nose once more, trying not to feel like a fussy mother. The horse had been possessed by the forces of evil, he would know not to eat something that would kill him.
Jenny walked down the path away from the cabin, glancing back occasionally. Her horse stayed still for a few long moments, then slowly walked to the pasture on the far side of the house.
Within twenty minutes, Jenny had found a car and was driving into town. She composed a list of things to buy in her head as she drove (bread, apples, soap, potatoes, printer paper, a thing of Oreos…two things of Oreos…), and tried not to think about what would happen if she ran across the Witnesses while grocery shopping. She made quick work of the grocery store, powering through the aisles and crossing items off of her napkin checklist.
"Stocking up?" the cashier asked when she reached the check-out line, casting an eye over her purchases.
"Didn't you know? World could end any day."
"Certainly what it's starting to feel like," the cashier grumbled good naturedly. Jenny laughed, because he had no idea.
Jenny left the store shortly after, smiling and waving the baggers away as she worked her cart to her car. Her groceries filled up the trunk and the middle seat, but she managed to fit everything alright.
On a spur of the moment decision, Jenny found herself wheeling the car up the lane to Tarrytown Psychiatric. It was honestly the last place she wanted to go, and completely out of her way, but she had said good bye to Ichabod and Abbie, she might as well say it to Frank.
The woman at the reception desk looked exceptionally surprised to see her, but one look at Jenny's cold smile said she was not there to stay.
"Mills," Frank said, surprise coloring his tone as he walked into the common area. "Didn't think you'd come here."
"Yeah, definitely the last place I want to be," she sighed, the place already setting her teeth on edge. Frank settled into the chair opposite her, looking like he was bracing himself for something.
"So…why're you here, then? Did something happen?"
Jenny gave him a tired smile, and did not answer for what seemed like a long time.
"No, nothing new. I just… I know how hard it is, being in here. Abbie's busy with work, and Ichabod can't drive anywhere with Reyes cracking down, but I've got time."
"That's nice of you," he said, clearly trying to decide if she was speaking in some sort of code. Jenny shrugged, and ran a hand through her hair.
"So, how is it? I see you're not getting beaten up anymore."
"No, but the doctors are surprisingly intolerant of patients that see demons everywhere. They're not actually doing anything, but—" He broke off, then glanced up at her. They didn't say anything for a long moment.
"Sorry I didn't take you more seriously before," he mumbled, rubbing his hands over his face. Jenny put a hand on his shoulder, and gave it a quick squeeze.
"It's alright. You don't really…" She trailed off, frowning slightly.
"Don't really what?" Frank asked, glancing over his shoulder, wondering if something had stolen her attention. Jenny shook her head, smile coming back. She hoped he didn't notice just how forced it was.
"You don't really have it as bad as you think. Once you get over the pity party, you start seeing how good things are. You're not in a straitjacket, you get to talk to the other patients, get to choose what you have for lunch."
"Oh, please, that food is a whole 'nother type of torture," Frank sighed, leaning back in his chair. He seemed to have missed the false air of brightness in her voice. Jenny gave him another smile, this one entirely sincere.
"You'll make it out alive, Irving. I just know it."
Jenny cantered up the drive to Frederick's Manor, flinging herself off of her horse the moment she didn't think she was in danger of breaking her neck. War's horse gave a high whinny, appearing from around the other side of the house as she stalked to the door.
"Back off," she snarled as the horse came nearer, looking ready to bite her for invading its master's territory. The horse slowed, then gave a rough snort when Jenny's own horse approached. The two seemed to converse, and then the red horse settled at the front steps, a warning to Jenny.
She ignored the horses and shoved the front door open, yelling out, "Henry!" as she stormed through the house. She found him on the second floor, sitting on a stool in front of a miniature version of Sleepy Hollow. He looked over at her, the now typical smile on his face.
"Ah, Famine, I didn't expect a visit."
"You stole Irving's soul," she spat, not having time for his mind games. His expression lightened in mock surprise, then turned into an even darker smile.
"So you went to see our dear captain, did you? I hope you were careful with what you told him."
"You stole his soul," she repeated, glaring at him. This was all War, now, the haughtiness and well-earned pride simmering through to the surface. He sighed and turned to face her fully, a gesture more condescending than his politeness.
"Yes, I did."
"Why? How did you do it? Irving clearly doesn't know what's happened, when did you—what could you possibly gain from this?"
"I took it in exchange for my services as his lawyer," he explained.
"His lawyer? Some kind of lawyer you are, keeping him from a death sentence only to drop him into Hell on earth!"
"If he has problems with it, then he should have read the fine print," War countered, the twisted levity in his face dropping like a stone. He stood, and Jenny found herself clenching her teeth. She hated the dread in her stomach caused by this old man.
"You come here in all of your self-righteous glory, the new Horseman of Famine, mighty in ways the other two couldn't possibly dream, but you are still just a child playing at these games of war."
"War is not a game, these people's lives aren't just toys for you to take when no one's looking!"
"War is my game, Famine, and I will play it in any way that will assure we win. Taking Captain Frank Irving's soul ensures another soldier, one to fight with Lord Moloch when he finally comes! I have deprived the Witnesses of another ally, one of perilously few, now, making them desperate and weak. You are new to this, you might still be blinded by those human trappings that you call a former life, but I, oh I have had all of that stripped away, I can see more clearly than either you or Death."
"All's fair in war, then," she said, not even bothering with a sneer. War gave a black laugh.
"Is that supposed to reproach me, make me feel guilty for the things I have done in the service of our master?"
"What are you doing for Moloch, then? Because from here, it looks like a heaving mess, meant to just make people suffer for no reason!"
"Oh," Henry said, face resolving into another wicked smile. "Oh. Do you not know, then? Has Lord Moloch not deemed to visit you, to show you his plan?"
Jenny glared at him, because he knew he was right. Jenny hadn't really thought about it before now, her brief time as a Horseman used for other ponderings. But now it felt like a trick, a cruel joke that showed just how inferior she was to the man standing before her. Why hadn't Moloch come to her, why had the only time she had heard his voice was when she had bargained for Abbie's life?
"War may be your 'game'," Jenny said, voice all ice, "but famine is mine. It is my job to starve the Witnesses of their hope and their power, not yours. Play how you want, but don't over step your bounds."
"So this is all a matter of fulfilling your role, I see."
"As opposed to what?"
"Nothing, specifically. Only…it wouldn't be the first time a Horseman acted for personal gain."
"No," Jenny said, casting a glance around the room as if she could encompass the whole house. "It wouldn't be."
She turned around and stalked to the front door, slamming it shut behind her.
As if spurred by her argument with Henry, Moloch visited her.
It was horrible. All of Moloch's might, all of his terrible glory had been cast upon her soul, turning her small and weak. She had only caught a glimpse of him as a child, but now he was before her, towering and imposing enough to send her to her knees. His voice was a roar in her ears, speaking a language she couldn't decipher, but somehow understood. This was not the becoming whisper that had spoken to her before, this was Moloch casting aside all pretense to command his Horseman.
Jenny refused to brace her hands against the ground as his plans rushed into her head, hating that she was practically hunched on the ground. She tried to straighten, tried to look up, but some intense instinct told her do not, so she kept her eyes averted.
It didn't last long. Within an eye blink, Jenny was back in her cabin, slumped against a wall. Every part of her felt numb.
She stumbled to the bathroom, and ran the shower without adjusting the temperature. She took her clothes off and stepped in, struggling to process the overwhelming knowledge that had been crammed into her brain.
The Witnesses knew so little. It was almost laughable, how unprepared they were. She was only aware of the outline and then the fine details that concerned her, but even that made it unmistakable how ill off they were. She had called them a reactionary force, like the other Horsemen hadn't already known, but seeing seeing this, seeing it all laid out in her head, it was glaringly obvious. That was one of their primary weaknesses, not having the guile to work things to their own ends. And so Moloch had devised a plan that would keep them running around clueless until it was too late for them to do anything.
Jenny leaned her head into the corner of the shower, not feeling the cold water as she closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the horror that still clung to her skin. Moloch. She had been afraid of him since she was a little girl, had tried to hide it under a big front and a dead set determination to become strong. But now the old fear was coming back, and then being consumed by a new one.
She had never felt quite so small in all her life.
Time was slow to pass. Jenny began to look for anything that would eat away her days. She found things for her cabin, cooked all of her meals from scratch, watched tv shows and movies to use up hour blocks of time. She also found a good deal of her time being spent on compulsively learning about horses.
She knew her horse was a smart beast, more self-aware than practically any other creature on Earth, but the persistent worry of accidentally killing her mount never really went away. Jenny barely managed to give basic friendships enough attention and support to last a few months. How the hell was she supposed to take care of a horse?
The horse, however, turned out to require very little care at all. As long as she provided somewhere for him to sleep and brushed him every day, he seemed fine. He, in turn, came and went as he pleased, exploring the pasture and the woods around the cabin. Jenny's only real requirement was that he not be seen by other people, and not go to the bathroom in the garage.
"I am not cleaning up horse shit," she told him frankly, the first night he had spent with her. "Either you hold it, or you take yourself outside to the woods."
There must have been something crazy in her eyes, because they didn't have a single incident.
As Jenny came to know her horse, she felt supremely awkward about him not having a name. Granted, she didn't have anyone to talk to him about, but she wanted to mark him as her own, wanted to show that he wasn't just a tool she used, but was something she cared about. The first contender was Black Beauty, which made her snort out loud, and then turn so she could tell Abbie. She had slowly turned back around, because she had somehow managed to forget that Abbie was no longer there to roll her eyes and crack a smile over her sister's antics.
(saving her life seemed a lot more bittersweet, now that Jenny realized it meant never seeing her sister, until the world actually ended.)
Jenny sorted through names, until she finally settled on the name 'Zubin'. When she had first called him that, he had shuffled and stared at her, as if asking what on earth she had just called him. Then Jenny had put her hands on her hips, because she was absolutely not about to bicker over names with a horse. He had huffed and walked over, as if resigning himself to her will.
"It's a good name," she had whispered, stroking his cheek. "I knew I guy named that, when I was in Turkey for the first time. He was just about the only thing that made me smile for those whole two weeks. It's a good name."
Zubin gave a long blow, and nuzzled her shoulder. Jenny smiled, and then said, "See? You're already living up to him."
It made Jenny feel a little less lonely.
AN I love Henry I love Henry I love Henry. I literally care not what anyone else says, he is the best character on there and he could probably do anything and I would still love the slimy little snake.