Just to clarify, I don't this is how 10x10 is going to go. I just had an image of this in my head and tried to get it out. I wrote this in one day after seeing the episode once, and it's really different from my usual writing style, so I'm not sure how I feel about it. I've just been looking for a way to flex my Heartland writing skills again and this seemed to be the perfect way to do it. I hope you enjoy it anyway!
I don't own anything recognizable.
~TLL~
Amy keeps one hand on the top of her stomach, trying to keep her breathing even. Georgie and Spartan aren't even a cloud of dust anymore; she doesn't know what happened to her dad. The last thing she wants to do is think about it. She's not Lou. She's not going to sit here and think of everything that could possibly go wrong. She sits in the truck, listening to the horse in the trailer. She should help him. She should be able to help him but she can't. There's pain and she hurts and all she can think about is her baby, Ty's baby, and how keeping their little nugget alive is all that actually matters right now. She won't have their baby die.
Amy closes her eyes and she thinks of Ty. She hopes he's happy and he's with a Gobi bear and he's thinking about them, thinking they're safe and happy. By the time she gets to speak to him again, she wants nothing more for that to be the reality she's in. The horse neighs and Amy thinks back again, a neighing horse, a car accident, pain she can't describe. She opens her eyes and for the millionth time since he lost her, all Amy wants is her mom.
The horse goes quiet and so does she. She wonders how long it's been since Georgie set out; since Dad set out. Spartan coming back alone was one of the most horrifying moments of her life. She had no idea if her dad was going to be okay. She hoped Georgie found him. She hoped Georgie was well on her way to help. Even better, that Georgie made it to a main road and help is already on their way for all of them.
She doesn't want to cry, but she's scared and she's desperate and one tear slips out before she reins herself in. There's nothing to cry about. Everything's going to be fine. Her belly contracts. Braxton hicks. Lou lectured her on everything that could go wrong in a pregnancy it seems, as much as Amy tried to avoid hearing it. Now, it's comforting to think that women go through Braxton hicks all the time. There's nothing wrong. She's just pregnant.
Amy suddenly feels something warm on her legs, and she can't help but thinking it feels like she's peed herself. Pregnancy, she all but sighs in her mind, and it's a normal realization. She's pregnant. This is her first baby. Despite Lou's best intentions, she can't anticipate everything that's going to happen. She struggles to sit, thinking about the days without the baby bump when she could have just sprang up, and she reaches between her legs. If she's really peed herself, she wants to find something to clean it up with, at least a little, before it dries and gets cold, wet, and itchy. There are ways for her to be more miserable.
Amy lifts her fingers from the inside of her thigh and they're red. Panicked, she puts a hand on each side of her thighs and bends as far as she can go, heart sinking. This isn't pregnancy. This is an emergency.
"DAD!" she yells. "Georgie!? HELP!"
Her baby is in trouble.
She hears something – a rock skittering, something muted that could be steps.
"HELLO!"
Amy slides out of the truck. Should she be standing right now? She doesn't know. She doesn't even know what's wrong. She rubs her hand across the taunt skin of the top of her belly, and she feels something pressing at her. She can still feel her baby moving. Her baby's going to be fine. She's overreacting. Turning into Lou and panicking at nothing.
"Hello?" she tries again.
A whicker; a snort. Not the horse stuck in the trailer. No. She knows that horse's voice and she vomits, because her baby is hurting and weighing on her, because she's scared, and because Spartan is standing in front of her again, without Georgie. He huffs and walks over to her and she grabs onto his halter. He's warm and alive. It's grounding. She starts to run her hands over him, lost in the systematic repetition of making sure that nothing's wrong with Spartan.
She doesn't find anything and that only worries her more. Dad and Georgie had each fallen or dismounted and she had no clues as to why. She grabs onto Spartan's mane as her stomach contracts again and she's forced to bend at the waist, trying to alleviate the pain.
What do I do?
She can't stay. She's bleeding. It could be days before anyone finds them out here. She wonders if her family knows she's missing yet, but she doubts it. There's no reason for the three of them to be home by now. Grandpa has no reason to worry. She can't stay here and risk bleeding out; she can't stay and wait for someone to find her. But her only way out is Spartan. Her horse shook his head slightly, jarring her. She doesn't know what the accident's done. Her baby could be dying. Braxton hicks might not be Braxton hicks.
She forced herself to stand up straight and keep her mind clear. She needs to think through this like she isn't a worried, injured mother. Amy knows that if she leaves here, she can't go in the direction that Dad and Georgie did. There's something there. Something bad that's spooking Spartan. The decision tears at her. She needs to know they're all right, but if she gets up on Spartan, she can't risk coming off. She won't be able to check on them, and that decision is wrong. It's completely and utterly wrong. She's Amy Fleming. She's the miracle girl. She should be able to do it all.
"Ah!" She hold her stomach and feels another trickle of warmth down her legs. More blood. She can't stay indecisive.
She'll come back for Georgie and Dad, the moment she can. She won't leave them. But it's now down to her and Spartan to go out and find help. She just needs to find a way up. She needs to figure out how to mount him without a saddle and with her baby. Her heart's racing in her chest and she can't stop thinking about her early pregnancy nightmares. She can't fall. She can't be left in the dust while she loses her baby. She can't.
"Spartan." She holds his head in her hands. "Don't let me down now, okay?"
He lipped at the front of her shirt and Amy gave him a gentle forehead rub.
"All the treats you want when you get us home, okay?"
She held onto his halter and reins tightly. She needed to be high up. She couldn't let her stomach drag across his. She couldn't do anything that would hurt her baby.
Spartan is an obedient as he's ever been as she stands him in front of the truck. She manages to get herself onto the hood of the truck and get one hand over him. Keeping her legs spread across Spartan's back is harder than she thought it would be. There's a dull ache between her thighs and she knows it's going to get worse over time.
The horse in the trailer cries again and Amy winces. She's never left this much behind before, never let this much go. If she weren't carrying her baby, she'd get the horse out. She'd get Georgie and Dad. They'd all get out together. That's not a choice she can afford to make now. She and Spartan, together like this, are the only hope for any of them. As far as she knows, Dad and Georgie are both together in a ditch, injured from the accident out of their control, or they're sitting pretty in a comfy car, organizing help for her. Fear clutches at Amy again. If she's gone and they come back for her …
No. She'll stick to the road. No dumb traipsing through the woods. If they come looking for her and they didn't find her here, she would be easy to find.
"Okay, Spartan, let's go."
It takes more effort than it should for her to squeeze her legs around Spartan. Has he always been quite so round? She wraps her hands in his mane, like she's a little girl on her first ride.
"Nice and slow," she murmurs, guiding him in the opposite direction that Dad and Georgie went.
Georgie and Dad were able to gallop off. Amy can't remember the last time that she was so nervous on a horse. Not just any horse. Her horse. Spartan won't let her down. He won't. He knows she won't.
The pain gets worse. The day gets longer. Amy knows that someone is missing them by now, and that brings her comfort. She hadn't thought they were so far from the main road, but there's a reason Dad and Georgie went the way she did. Spartan plods on, slow and steady, and Amy's dizzy and ready to faint when she feels something. A small ping in her pocket. A text message. She has service here!
"Whoa, boy."
Spartan halts and he heaves out a breath. Amy rubs his neck. Today has been as long for him as it has been for her. His dark coat has become slick with her blood, but Amy's sure most of it has dried now. She hasn't felt the terrible wetness of fresh blood in a while, but she's felt her baby move. Her baby is okay. Her heart wants to call Ty first. She wants to hear him, morning cheerful, answering his phone and reassuring her. She can't.
She calls Grandpa.
"Amy!"
"I need help!"
In the background, she hears Lou call her name and ask about Georgie and Dad.
"Where are you?"
"I'm almost back to the main road. There was … We were driving and rocks just …"
"Take a deep breath," Grandpa commands, and for once, Amy is all too happy to listen. She's not alone anymore.
"Where are you? Where are Georgie and Tim?"
"I don't know, Grandpa. I'm almost to the road. I'm on Spartan. Grandpa, I'm bleeding."
"What?"
"The baby. There's blood. Grandpa –"
"I'm hanging up. You're calling an ambulance."
"I can't leave Spartan!"
He's her baby too.
"Peter, Mitch, and Caleb are driving around. I'll see who's closest to you and then I'll head out with a trailer for him."
"Where's Georgie? Is everyone okay?" Lou demands again.
"They're further up. I don't know what happened. Dad left on Spartan and Spartan came back alone and then Georgie left on Spartan and Spartan came back alone and so we went in the other direction."
"Okay. Amy, hang up. Call an ambulance. I've got you from here."
"Okay, Grandpa." She hangs up and gets Spartan walking again. It's best if she gets as close to the main road as possible and she calls them as she walks. The woman she speaks to is nice and wants her to stay on the line if she can, but Amy's barely got out her location and her details before she loses cell phone service again.
They're coming for her.
"We're going to be all right, Spartan. We are."
It isn't long before she hears the rumble of wheels, and then there's Peter in Lou's car, and Amy doesn't think she's ever been quite so happy to see Peter before, but here she is, holding back tears of joy as he gets out of the car.
"Amy!"
She doesn't think Peter's ever been so happy to see her either.
"Here, let me help you down."
Peter is careful as he reaches up to her, careful to not touch her belly or her breasts as he helps her slide back first down Spartan's belly. Her legs are weak and he catches her in his arms.
"Over to the car, come on." He opens the back door for her and she sits gratefully before reclining completely, curling up on her side. She can see in Peter's face that he's spotted her mottled jeans, and she's glad he doesn't say anything. They're not friends. He can't comfort her. He fishes a water bottle from the front and hands it to her.
"Spartan."
"Oh, right!"
Spartan is tied to the car door and he settles down to graze. Peter slides in the driver's side.
"Where's Georgie and Tim?"
She's surprised it's taken him this long to ask, but it's also the first moment when there's nothing else for them to do but sit and wait for the ambulance. Amy can't watch her parental agony when she admits she doesn't know what happened to Georgie and the only thing that she could offer to comfort him was that Georgie wasn't hurt in the original accident. He accepts this and checks his phone for service. They must have it again, because he's able to send a text message. They don't speak again, but it would have been weirder if they had spoken. She rests her hand on her baby bump and smiles as Spartan attempts to eat the ends of her boots.
She hears the sirens.
"Peter, hold him," she says, trying to sit up. Spartan's bomb-proof, but shrieking sirens and a speeding ambulance might be too much for him after the day that he had. She manages to get a hand on his halter and hold him close. She wants her mom and she wants to take Spartan with her to the hospital and, miracle of miracles, she wants Ty there when she gets there.
Peter gets a hand on Spartan's halter too. He rubs Spartan's neck and she's managed to forget that Peter loves animals, that he knows what to do with a horse.
"I'll stay here with him. Lou says Jack's on his way with a trailer. She and Katie are going to meet you at the hospital. Caleb and Mitch are going to find Katie and Tim. It'll be all right, Amy."
She nods, and the ambulance bursts into sight. Spartan doesn't like it: his ears go back and his tail swishes. Peter looks apologetic as he unties Spartan from the truck and leads him away from Amy to give him space and to give the quick-moving paramedics room to look at her. Their names are Morgan and Lance and she babbles out her story as they check her pulse and blood pressure. She's not surprised when they rush a stretcher over to her. Morgan stays in the back with her. Lance drives.
"My baby?"
Morgan has an ultrasound in her hand, but it's hard to get a good look with the movement on the ambulance. Her face is hard to read. She knows how to keep her dark cheeks smooth and her thick eyebrows remain nicely concerned, but not overly. The gel is cold and Amy stares at the monitor. She doesn't know what it means, she just knows that's her baby, and it really looks like a baby.
"Your baby is alive. I don't see any damage."
"The bleeding?"
"We'll be to the hospital soon and the doctor can give you a more definitive answer. I know it looks scary and it looks like a lot of blood, but there are a lot of reasons a woman can bleed during pregnancy. Not all of them mean you're going to lose your baby. I have hope."
Amy has hope too, but it's nice to hear a medical professional say it. She's still so relieved when she gets to a hospital. She's quickly taken out of her bloody jeans and her worn top and into a green hospital gown. Dr. Spires has a warm-tone but she's very quick to have Amy's legs up and a better ultrasound pressed to her belly.
"It's not placenta praevia," Dr. Spires says to the nurse in pink scrubs.
"What's that mean?"
"It means that it's not the worst it could be," the nurse says soothingly. "If it were placenta praevia, we'd probably have to deliver early."
"I'm not ready to deliver," Amy says. "My sister's supposed to be here."
"What's her name?"
"Lou."
"I'll send someone to find her," the nurse says.
Amy waits. Neurotic Lou who believes she knows everything and almost does will be able to guide her through this.
"We just need to rule out some other causes, like the accident itself," Dr. Spires says. "I'm also going to order a blood transfusion for you and we need to monitor your kidneys."
"Do you think you know what it is? You have to tell me if you know."
"I'm assuming placental abruption, but that's diagnosed through process of elimination, not its own tests, so we need to be extra cautious to make sure we don't make the wrong diagnoses with it."
Placental abruption sounds worse than placenta praevia and Amy keeps her mouth shut as she has blood drawn and more nurses come in to help Dr. Spires prod at her. They give her IVs and other fluid. Her heartbeat is monitored and so is everything else they can think of. They diagnose her as fine, but they're still playing with her baby and she hates it. Her skin is crawling and she's grateful when Lou is finally bursting through the door, saying her name and 'what's going on' and Amy's name all at the same time. Katie's in tow, her pigtails in disarray and her chubby cheeks bright red.
Lou stands by her head and takes her hand.
"Aunt Amy?" Katie asks. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay."
"What about the baby?" Lou asks.
Dr. Spires strips off her gloves. "I was right. It's a fairly mild case of placental abruption."
"And what does fairly mild mean exactly?" Lou demands. She picks up Katie and holds her tightly against her hip. "What does all of that mean?"
"Placental abruption means that placenta is no longer attached to the uterine wall. Yours is still partially attached, Amy, but not as much as we'd like. Placental abruption isn't a common thing, but given the trauma you went through today, we're not surprised that it did occur. We're glad you got in on time. Placental abruption can deprive the baby of oxygen and nutrients but we've got your little g –
"No gender," Lou blurts
"Guy," Dr. Spires says. "Very gender neutral. He's stable, but there a couple of steps we want to take."
"What kind of steps?" Lou asks.
"Early delivery is often a complication with placental abruption."
"I'm not ready to deliver!" Amy protests.
"I agree. And because your baby is not in immediate danger, I'm not even going to try. However, we would like to give the fetus steroids to help his lung development so that, in the event that something happens, he can be delivered with a better chance of survival."
"Steroids?" Amy repeats.
"It won't affect him in the long run. It just increases his chances of being okay if something else were to occur."
"Oh, something else like what?" Lou asks.
"After an accident, we can't be sure of the complications that will occur. With placental abruption, we'll need to monitor you closely and keep you on bed rest to make sure that everything is going all right."
"I need to go home," Amy says. "You can't keep me here forever."
"And I don't think we will. We'll keep you here for a few days, likely. Your bleeding has stopped completely, your baby looks fine, we'll give the fetus the steroids, make sure everything's going according to plan, and then send you home. But you must be on bed rest and come in for very regular appointments. How does that plan sound to you?"
"It's the best chance." Amy looks to Lou as she speaks and Lou nods. "I like the plan."
"All right. I will leave you in the hands of some very capable nurses and you'll be ready to go home in no time."
Amy waits patiently as she's prodded again. She'd rather watch Lou settle Katie into a chair with a gift shop colouring book and pack of cheap crayons. Katie pulls on her pigtails and asks for Georgie, and Amy wants to ask about Georgie too, but she's not sure how. Lou's lips go tight as she assures Katie that Georgie's fine, that Caleb and Mitch and Daddy are looking for her.
"What about GG?"
"GG is at home, taking care of Spartan." Lou looks over at Amy and Amy knows there's questions Lou wants to ask that she doesn't want Katie to hear.
Katie colours. Lou sits at Amy's bedside. They whisper, but not about anything scary, which means nothing important is said either. Amy thinks about how Georgie and Dad should have been discovered by now unless something awful really was there, and Caleb and Mitch and Peter have fallen victim to it too.
The door flies open and there's Georgie, wild haired and in Peter's coat. She's like Amy. She doesn't cry quite so easily, but she's just a little girl when she curls up with Lou and the tears fall. "Georgie! Are you all right? No one called me!"
Katie puts down her colouring book and slowly toddles toward Georgie. She's hesitant, and then she wraps her arms around her big sister's waist. Georgie lifts one arm and tucks Katie underneath of it. Amy's jealous. Lou can look at her children and kiss their wounds and make sure nothing is going to happen. She can hug them all better. Amy can pat the taunt skin of her stomach and whisper words that her baby doesn't understand and wait for her baby's birth, so that she can inspect her little one herself.
"I'm okay. Dad found me. Mom, I'm cold."
Lou wraps her arms tightly around Georgie.
"Georgie, did you fall of Spartan?" Amy asks.
Georgie shakes her head. "No. I found Tim. He was just lying there and he looked dead so I got off to make sure he was okay. Then Spartan spooked and I couldn't catch him! I walked back for you, Amy, but when I got there you were gone so I kept walking and I found Dad and he was on the phone with Caleb and Caleb had Tim and he brought me here. I don't know what happened to Tim." Georgie buries her head in Lou's shoulder.
"Shh, shh," Lou soothes. "It's okay. You're okay. Don't you worry."
"Is the baby all right?"
"The baby is going to be fine." Amy reaches over and touches Georgie's arm. "You did the right thing."
"Is Spartan okay?"
"Yeah. Grandpa took him home."
Satisfied, Georgie hides in Lou again. It doesn't seem like that long of a wait when Grandpa knocks in the door. Amy doesn't want to look in his eyes. She hates the pain she sees every time he walks in on her in a hospital bed.
"Tim has a bad concussion. He's unconscious still, which concerns doctors, but not me."
"Grandpa," Lou whines, but Amy likes it. The rivalry is familiar. If Grandpa's not worried enough about Dad to avoid picking on him, Dad's not really in danger.
"He'll wake up and expect us to baby him," Jack comments. "Speaking of babies …"
"Everyone is absolutely fine," Lou says.
She and Grandpa lock eyes and exchange a look Amy doesn't think she's supposed to see. Grandpa gives a little nod and Lou's satisfied.
Nighttime is uncomfortable. Amy's alone but for the constant rotation of nurses that come in to check on her. They're all sweet, but they're disruptive. Every time she thinks exhaustion is going to take her, another one pops up to make sure her blood pressure or heart rate or her baby's heartrate is holding. She finally passes out at around five a.m. When she wakes up, Lou is there, ready with a breakfast tray.
"Where's my phone?" Amy asks.
"Over here. Why?"
"Been too long since I talked to Ty," she mumbles, still half asleep and rubbing at her eyes.
"Oh. That. Um. Right. It's Mongolia. I'm sure he's just busy. Saving bears, right? He'll call you. Maybe it's best to just send an e-mail or something about this so he can read it."
Amy frowns. "Lou, what is it?"
She almost doesn't want to know. She can't handle anything else.
"Nothing. Nothing. What makes you think there's anything? Here, try the toast. You need to eat something."
"You're an awful liar, Lou."
"Eat the toast, Amy."
Amy grabs a piece of toast and takes a bite. She chews slowly, her eyes never leaving Lou's. It doesn't take her older sister long to crack.
"Um. Grandpa has been trying to call him since we realized you were missing. He hasn't answered yet."
Amy puts the toast back on the plate.
"I'm sure it's nothing, just Mongolia. We'll hear from him soon. You've gone a few days without hearing from him before."
It's not just any few days, though. She doesn't want to show him happy ultrasound photos or bounce ideas off him about a difficult client horse or just close her eyes and imagine he's lying next to her instead of being so far away. She needs to tell him everything and hear him tell her that everything will be okay and hold her. That's all she wants.
"Yeah. I'm sure everything's fine."
"It will be. Don't worry." Lou kisses the top of Amy's head. "Oh, good news. Dad woke up about an hour before you did this morning. Doctors say no brain damage and he should be fine. Grandpa's disagreeing with that assessment, but there's no reason why other than the fact that it's Dad and Grandpa."
"Good. I'm glad."
"He should be up to see you later. There's no reason to keep him cooped up here. Plus, he's driving everyone a little nuts and I think he'd rather be home bothering Grandpa, so …" Lou took a breath. "Are you bored here? I'll find you a book. Something to do."
"Will you bring me Mom's journal?"
"Sure. I'll bring you a couple things. Anything else you want from home?"
"If you could smuggle Spartan in, that would be great."
Lou's pursed look of shock was well worth the comment. "You should have bought me a big enough purse for my birthday."
Amy laughs, a little. "I'll remember that."
"I can't stay long. Peter and I are supposed to, um, be meeting at the dude ranch soon."
"Oh?"
"Divorce papers. Now's not the time to be having mixed feelings but …" Lou shakes her head. "I shouldn't be worrying you."
"I'm your sister, not an invalid. You can tell me things."
"I think it's just hard to let go. He's Katie's and Georgie's dad. We built a life together." Lou looks down. "We tried to build a life together. We never got off the ground the way we should have and this separation thing just proved that we can be parents and not be a couple. I shouldn't hang onto something that isn't here anymore. If it ever really was."
"Are you going to hang onto Mitch instead?"
Lou scoffed. "That … is not the point right now. Mitch is good for me to spend time with. So, I'm going to spend time with him as long as he's good. And it's not hurting Katie and Georgie because that's not something that I want to deal with right now. Oops, the ink on the divorce paper is still fresh but Mom's found someone new!" Lou threw her hands up and sat in the chair.
"Amy! Amy!"
"Dad," Amy says as he pops into her hospital room. "I'm fine."
Right behind Dad is Grandpa. "Tim, let's not fuss."
"I'm not fussing." Tim bends low over her hospital bed. "Honey, how are you?"
"I'm okay. Baby and I are okay." She's sick of repeating it. She wants it to just be accepted fact. She's okay. Her baby is okay.
Dad doesn't let things go easily. He takes the chair that Lou has to vacate while Grandpa hovers nearby. He's not as annoying as her fatherly watchdog, but he's a watchdog nonetheless. They're still sitting with her when Dr. Spires comes in with good news.
"If you're stable through the night then we'll let you go home tomorrow, how does that sound?"
"It sounds really great. Thank you."
Dad's head hurts. They have to leave. And Amy's alone again. She plays with her phone, but it's not really of any interest to her. Scrolling through Facebook and playing Candy Crush for a few hours has never been her idea of a good time. She twiddles her thumbs and decides to ask the next nurse if she might be able to get a magazine or something. She's surprised Lou didn't come armed with that already, but she can't blame Lou for having bigger things on her mind today.
Amy rests her head back on her pillows and decides to sleep out of sheer boredom. She's saved by another visitor.
"Caleb!"
He won't coddle her. It's just not what Caleb does. His arms are full and he's tracking mud through the room.
"Flowers from me," he says, laying the wildflowers on the table next to her. "Books and bowling balls from Lou." He places a bag next to her feet and she feels the thin mattress sag.
"Bowling balls?"
"I don't know what else is heavy enough to make the bag feel like that. Horseshoes, maybe, Not sure what you'd want with them in here." Caleb shrugs and places a stuffed bear on top of Amy's bell. "From Cass. She's swamped at the clinic, says she'll come see you when you get back to Heartland."
"Thanks, Caleb. You didn't have to bring all this."
Caleb shrugged again. "Yeah, I did. I did bring you something else, though, but it was a little big and it took me a while to figure out how to get it in here."
"Did Lou tell you I wanted to see Spartan?"
Caleb winks good-naturedly at her. "Something like that. I'm just going to go make sure the coast is clear. I don't want any nurses around to kick me out."
Kick him out?
Amy's confused and incredulous as he sticks his head out the door, making a show of checking around. He steps out of view for a moment. She hears Caleb's whisper, but no returning voice, and there's a second sound of footsteps. It's not a horse, and Amy's relieved, because, given the right situation, she knew Caleb wouldn't hesitate to bring a horse to a hospital.
"Close your eyes, Amy," Caleb says, sticking his head around the door.
Obediently, she places her hands over her face. She hopes it's something good. Like cake. Caleb would definitely have someone smuggle her some sweets. Maybe he's brought her a bag of clementines. And cake. Georgie would help him with such a scheme. Someone's standing next to her bed and she sniffs. Someone smelly. Then, a kiss is pressed to her forehead and tears leak from between her fingers.
"Ty."
"I'm here, I'm here."
And truly, he is. Reeking of Mongolia and dessert and airports and planes and people and not showering for who knows how long and he is the best thing she's ever seen in her entire life. His arms are around her and she's allowed to be scared as he pets her hair and holds her. She's forgotten how good it feels for him to kiss her.
"How are you?" she asks. "Mongolia?"
"Was good, great. Being home is better. How are you?"
"I'm okay." She runs her hand through his hair. He needs a shower. She doesn't care.
Ty bends over her, resting his forehead against her stomach. "And baby? How's the nugget?"
"We're all okay. We're okay."
He kisses her, lips on hers and hands impossibly soft in her hair. She wraps her arm around his neck and just holds him close. The heartrate monitor speeds up and it feels as if the baby is spinning in circles inside of her.
"I love you," he whispers.
Ty's home.
Everything's okay.
Ty's home.
(-.-)
Ty comes back at seven a.m. He's only been gone for two hours to go home and shower.
"Here's something you're not going to like," he says. He's smiling.
"What?"
"It's best if you, we, stay in your old room in the house until the baby comes out."
She pulls a face and she knows she's pulling a bad face when Ty laughs. "It'll be easier on you than the loft steps."
"If I'm supposed to be on bed rest, what's the difference?"
"The difference is everyone in the house making sure you're on bedrest instead of down in the barn doing this and that."
"You know me too well."
"You bet I do."
He lays down next to her, smelling like home again. He knows her.
"I like our loft."
"I like our loft too." Ty kisses her forehead and Amy giggles, because she's in love and here in front of her again. "I like you being safe even more than that."
His hand rests against her belly.
"Okay," Amy says with a small sigh. "I won't fight you about it."
Ty grins. "First time for everything. Maybe I should leave me often."
"Don't joke. I missed you."
He buries his face in her neck. "I missed you too."
She gets released around one with an appointment for the next week. Ty drives her home. As much as she likes driving the old blue truck, there's something more right about Ty in the passenger seat, talking about the heat Mongolia and admitting that he'd left thinking of more glamour than there was to be found in Mongolia.
"I'm sorry I dragged you back early," Amy says.
"You didn't drag me anywhere. You know, it's the weirdest thing. Ten minutes before Jack calls me I'm dehydrated and a little delirious and I see this white flash. So I turn around trying to figure out what kind of animal is that large and white in the middle of nowhere Mongolia and crossing my fingers it's not a poacher, and then … I see Ghost."
"Ghost? You saw Ghost?"
"Yeah. And I thought it meant I was going to die because bad things always happen to me when I see Ghost. So," Ty laughs about it, though Amy's face goes deadpan at the thought of losing him, "So I spend the next few minutes walking with Bob totally somber, and he's asking what's wrong with me. Then Jack calls and I realized dying in Mongolia wasn't the worst thing that could happen to me right now. The moment I thought I saw him I knew it was time. I'd already been feeling it was time. You know, I loved being there, especially when I first went. But I missed you too much."
"I missed you. We missed you." Amy feels the baby move. "We're almost home."
Grandpa and Lou are on the porch when she and Ty pull in. Both of them are at the truck immediately. Jack takes her bag. Lou helps her out of the truck, even though she doesn't really need it.
"How are you?" Amy Asks her.
"I did it," Lou says in a low tone. "It's the best thing for all of us, including Georgie and Katie. We can move on."
Lisa's in the kitchen, and she hugs Amy tighter than ever before. It doesn't quite soothe the ache that Amy constantly feels for her mother, but Lisa loves her, and she loves Lisa. Amy's not completely without a motherly figure in her life.
"Lou and I've been cooking for you. Katie helped!" Lisa adds.
"I helped!" Katie calls from the kitchen, though she looks more like she's rolled in flour.
"Let's get you to bed," Lou says. "It's not called bed rest so you can stay on your feet in kitchen."
Amy keeps her eyes on Ty and doesn't complain. Today. She won't complain today. But she's not about to give birth tomorrow. She's not staying in bed until her baby's born. Ty opens her bedroom door for her and she frowns. She knew her room couldn't stay a shrine to her teenage self, but she hadn't completely finished going through it yet, and she looks at Lou. The whole thing's been re-arranged. Her desk has moved walls; her bed is now under the window.
"Why?" she asks.
"I was restless last night," Lou says.
Georgie pops in the window, as if she's got a cue. "And it's so we can visit!"
Spartan's hanging over her shoulder, trying to eat the paint off the window. Amy sits in bed willingly and Georgie passes her a carrot. Spartan's ears prick and he sticks his entire head inside the window, nostrils flaring. Amy rubs his forehead and feeds him the carrot.
"What do you think of the house, boy? Do you like it?"
Spartan finishes off his carrot. Amy wraps her arms around him as best she can. She has to be thankful to him for saving her life again. They'll never stop saving each other. Spartan huffs a breath against her stomach.
"Thank you, Georgie."
"We'll visit every day," Georgie promises. "Otherwise he'll miss you too much."
Amy believes it. She slides a hand under his mane and scratches, resting one hand on her bump. Ty sits at the end of her bed and places his hand on her knee. She can sit and look at her family, and Amy feels whole. It's all going to be okay.