Years.
It had been years since Bash felt the soft mane of a horse beneath his hands, braided or otherwise - and he missed it.
He missed the calming effect horses had on people, but most importantly, he'd missed their company. Horses weren't so different from humans, they judged a person from how they made them feel, the very same way humans did. They excel at judging peoples characters, and that was why Bash enjoyed their company as much as he did.
The first friend he had ever made as a small boy, was bad news and Old Faithful knew it.
It wasn't long before the boy was caught stealing from Arthur Senior, and of course that reflected back upon Bash. He definitely didn't bring many friends home after that incident.
So when the reminder that Bash had promised Charlie that he'd take him down to see the horses was brought up, it filled the Shelby boy with apprehension and an ounce of dread. It wasn't so much that he didn't want to know whether or not his horse liked Charlie, it was more so the fact that he'd been thrown off and kicked by Old Faithful when he could see - and now without his sight, he hadn't quite convinced himself that he was ready to do this alone.
"Are all of these horses yours, Bash?" Charlie asked, leaning half way over the wooden fence that probably needed repairing in places.
For a moment, Bash paused. He couldn't quite remember how many horses he'd stored away in the back field opposite the shipyard, but he knew it couldn't have been more than six.
He didn't remember buying more than the six originally in the field, anyway.
"Two are, the rest are either my uncles or my brothers. Ada hates the things, but I paid her tenbob to look after Old Faithful and Sparta during the war. Sparta's this old lump of a horse, used to be in the races, was a fantastic jumper..." if given the chance, Bash would drown Charlie's brain with horse information but he was able to cut himself short of giving the younger boy a headache.
Nodding to himself, as he absorbed all of the new information he was given, Charlie kept watching as the horses in the field strolled around - looking as free as he now felt.
He hadn't been much of an animal man before the war, but there was something about them, how they cared and showed very little bias, that made him realise that maybe, just maybe he could find a friend in a beast.
Though, maybe he'd start off small, with like a dog, or a rabbit.
"Can you tell who's who? I mean— now you can't see a whole lot of anything." Charlie asked, breaking the short but pleasant silence that had fallen upon the two.
For a moment, he cast his mind back to 1913, days after his birthday - when an heavy and thick fog had swept across most of the Midlands. There were certain things that horses did to make themselves stand out amongst the rest, and the one that came straight to mind was Spartas inability to not bite the hand that feeds him.
Old Faithful was docile, but he always nudged his head against Bash's, like a dog trying to bury his treats.
The others... he hadn't known well enough to be able to figure those little niches out, but in time he knew he'd hack it.
"Spartas a fat fuck, who bites... but he's the one with the chestnut colourings. I'm pretty sure his mane is as close to yellow as a living being could get.." a small paused followed, wondering what would be the best way to phrase what he wanted to say next.
"And when you think the suns gone out, that's how you know Old Faithfuls about."
As if on cue, the sun began to dip just behind a horses head. The curious beast plodded along until he stopped right in front of Charlie and Bash. Charlie could only guess that this friendly giant was the infamous Old Faithful.
Not long after the old beast had a pet on the snout, did a second horse make its way towards them, though it's movements were definitely fuelled by something other than curiosity.
"You weren't wrong when you said Faithful was tall and Sparta was ... chunky."
Unable to contain his laughter, Bash began to let out some strange noises, it was as if he was choking in his own breath, but when Charlie noticed that he didn't look in any way worried, he, too, joined in with the laughter.
Or rather, wheezing, in Bash's case.
"He's as friendly as they come, but -"
"He just fuckin bit me, the daft prick."
Sparta made some huffing sounds, rattling his head about as his beady little eyes followed Charlie.
Perhaps Bash would get use to the idea of this, not everything needed visual aids, not everything needed colour. The outlines were just as good, if not better - allowing his creativity to run rampant.
The pair stayed there for an hour more than they should've, indicted by a frazzled Finn who'd looked half whipped by the wind and half disheveled by a soft push from one of the brothers.
Finn was the only one who didn't mind helping Bash, but he wasn't allowed to help completely by himself. His attention span was shorter than Johns, and that was quite the achievement.
Bash hadn't quite got the hang of walking around his own house without a vital sense, but with the help of Finn- since he was the only who could bare to be in the same room as him, he'd gotten better. No longer did he find himself slamming into walls, or door frames, or others- instead it was just the chairs, tables, desks- the movable items. Usually, Bash would find that certain pieces of furniture would be moved the moment he had gotten comfortable with where they had originally been.
To his brothers, it was so he was always used to change, but to Bash it was setting him back days- maybe even months.
Whilst Bash tried, tirelessly, to transition back into civilian life, his Aunt Pol had made it her mission to spend as little time with him- instead, sat on a pew at the church praying for something that would never happen. It was fruitless, pointless- nothing would ever come of it and she knew it.
She prayed for the return of her children, and now she prayed for the return of sight.
"Ada, take Bash out for a walk." Thomas ordered, breaking the silence that had fallen upon the Shelby's kitchen.
The kitchen that they all sat in had become an impromptu meeting point, for a very unnecessary meeting about things Bash was almost certain Arthur and Ada just didn't care for. Finn on the other hand, just liked being around them all again. As did Bash, but he was a grown adult so admitting that aloud would've been a little bit strange.
Bash had wanted to reply that he was not a dog and didn't need to be taken out for a walk- but a change of scenery (that he couldn't even see), would be a nice thing. He did hate the stuffiness of the den, and seeing his horses again would cheer him up.
"Why can't Finn do it?" She argued back, not wanting to wait on the blind one.
Finn had once been given the opportunity to take his brother out on an adventure, but as the poor boy was only eleven, he had gotten a little too distracted when it came to the horses near the shipyard... Bash's horses.
This had meant that the men Thomas had made to follow the two had to involve themselves in an issue they didn't want to get involved with.
To say that Bash was embarrassed was a little bit too on the nose.
The fact he hadn't been able to make his way through a journey he had done every day before being shipped off to war— was a big hit to his already deflated ego. The sound of newspapers- and Bash knew it was newspapers from the way he no longer heard them crinkle in Tommy's hand- had gathered everyone's attention. Silence filtered through the room like fire to wood, not even Finn spoke.
His siblings may not have meant to, but they had a very refined skill of making him feel like an outsider in his own home as of late. He knew it was because they hadn't had the proper amount of time to process it like he had. They hadn't been given enough of a warning, and he understood.
But that didn't mean it didn't hurt him just a little bit every time they refused to do something as simple as walk beside him.
"It's not contagious, you know? It's not the Spanish Flu, and I'm not a bastard dog! Plus, if you hadn't noticed, I've already been out for my daily dose of fresh air." Bash snapped, not bothering to wait for the second eldest male to speak.
A short, cut off chuckle came from Arthur, but Bash knew Tommy had a faint attempt of a smile on his face.
It was the little things that Bash had been able to pick up on in the short time he had been back in Small Heath with his brothers. Voices changed dependant on facial expressions, they lighten or they become heavy. The atmosphere changed too- it did the exact same thing as the voices, how he hadn't realised when he was able to see was astounding.
"As I was trying to say," Thomas paused, simply to cast a useless glance towards the third child, "If you won't let him walk with you, I'll take him with me."
No one, in the history of ever, had ever been allowed to go with Tommy on his secret rendezvous to God only knows where. Growing up, Bash had always wanted to, but now? Given the chance to, he didn't want it.
"No, Sebastian, this isn't out of pity. The house is getting the fire place fixed and everyone needs to be out. Not a pity thing." Thomas added, sensing that his brother was thinking the worst of a very strange situation.
John groaned, he had waited almost a lifetime to be able to go with Tommy, but of course! Since he was the youngest out of the four, he'd have to wait. He hated waiting, it was of no use, all it did was make him feel anxious and made his mind run a mile a minute. Arthur on the other hand, was just happy he didn't have to sit with the three in the Garrison.
They all did cramp his style a little bit.
"Stop whinging, Johnny Boy! Maybe Charlie has something for you?" Arthur snarked, knowing full well that Charlie had been on a canal boat heading to London for the past three days.
Had this come up in conversation six days ago, then perhaps their uncle Charlie would've had something for him.
"Ada— can I just say?" Bash started once the temperamental duo had calmed down. The girl scoffed, not wanting to hear what her brother had to say but the others encouraged him with verbal cues for him to continue. "Could— I mean, don't spend too much time down at the Cut, you come home stinking."
Ada squeaked in response, though she allowed no time for her siblings to ask questions, before any were raised- she stomped off in a hurry, scoffing to herself as she went. How he had even known was beyond her! Freddie let her keep a spare change of clothes in his house and she had always changed in the Garrison before coming home. If anything, she should've smelt like alcohol and cigarette smoke.
"Did you— can you really smell it?" John asked in a hushed voice, genuinely curious if he had been able to smell the sludgy waters from the cut, or if he had this all seeing eye he had heard so much about.
"Nah, I was just winding her up. But- I am pretty sure she actually has been sneaking off to the Cut. Based off her reaction, anyway."
The Cut was one of Bash's favourite places to loiter as a kid, throwing stones in- and or at passing canal boats, watching the water splash in reaction.
"Sebastian." Johns voice called out, causing an almost train of constant groans and exhales of angry air.
No one, but Thomas and their Aunt Pol, ever called Bash by his full name. He hated it, and oftentimes he'd refuse to reply to it, but as everyone- bar their Aunt Pol, was in the room he had decided it would best to at least acknowledge him.
So that was what he did, he turned his head in the direction of Johns voice, cocking an eyebrow in irritation. Johns face contorted in confusion, how he had known where he was- was beyond him. But, alas, he now had to deal with the hellish argument Bash could cause given the chance.
And said chance had just been handed to him on a silver platter.
"Yes, Jonathan?"
"Oh, nothing — just wanted to see your face twist like you'd eaten one of them sour sweets."
Yet again, the brothers were forced into silence- but that didn't seem to last very long. It rarely did in that house, they had all grown far too use to that- though.
"Can I go outside and play now?" Finn asked, which was followed by an almost synchronised chorus of yes's from the others. Saying no to that boy was far too difficult, especially since most of them were trying to make up for lost time.
Well, two of them were- anyway.
The other two? Well, they were trying deal with their own things... John with the kids and Arthur with his booze. Mainly Arthur and his affection to the booze (and women).
"Right! Off you go, Finn. Meeting adjourned."
Chairs scraped against the floor, and in seconds Finn had grabbed his hat and ball, and was gone with the wind.
It was no surprise that he had the energy he did, when the elder boys were young- they were just as bad, but at least Polly knew exactly who Finn was about to go and play kick-about with.
And surprisingly, it wasn't who he'd been playing with for the last six years.
Charlie Burton had become Finns number one best friend, and Bash was just grateful he didn't have to play goalie anymore. Plus; it gave Charlie an excuse to practice moving his leg like he used to...
Should've given Bash an excuse to move more freely on the open fields but, he'd get to that... one day.