Mallory had insisted that she should be allowed to join the group going to get the injured mustangs since she had missed all of the previous 'excitement' and shockingly, Jack had reluctantly agreed. If nothing else, to avoid the inevitable pouting that would follow rejection. So, since Mallory and Amy were riding with Jack, Ty rode separately with Scott. He wasn't disappointed by it. Scott was talking easily, and somehow Ty was managing to keep up with the conversation. And yet the whole time, writhing inside of him was an impossibly equal measure of peace and dread. Peace because he would finally be addressing the things that had kept him awake for nights. The things that had troubled his thoughts when he couldn't sleep. And dread because with them came pain. It would bring pain that stabbed him with all of the things he should have done differently. Regrets in particular had always seemed to haunt him. It would bring pain that squeezed him with blame. A vice of guilt always squeezed hardest just before it broke. And it would bring pain that drug at him with misery. Heartache because things that shouldn't have happened did.

He was thankful for the few minutes he had alone, away from Amy. He needed to gather his thoughts before he had to express them to her. Even if they would not have been able to talk had they rode together, Ty knew the closeness would distract him. He wouldn't be able to stop thinking about her heat next to him. He wouldn't be able to listen to his thoughts when his heart was beating so loudly through his ears. He needed these few moments of quite, aside for Scott's talking, to ready himself for everything he needed to soon tell Amy.

She watched the landscape slip past her, slowly blurring as it was pulled and stretched by her moving sight. Her grandpa's words played through her mind so many times that they started to sound strange. "Your mom would have done the same thing." For days she had been trying to validate what she had done. She had tried to arrange it all in her mind so it somehow came out alright. She had been searching for a reason, an excuse, that would convince Jack, and herself, that she had done the right thing. She knew she had. Every part of her knew she had to save those horses, and no matter the danger, it was the right thing to do. But even if she knew it, she didn't know why she knew it. She didn't understand why she believed it with such conviction. She didn't know how something that had cause so much pain for both her and Ty could hold no doubt about it's rectitude. Or how something that had initiate so much guilt could feel so absolutely correct. They didn't seem to work together, and Amy had spent much of her recovery trying to decided why they did. In the end it was her grandpa that had answered it for her. Her mom. Her mom would have done the same thing. No matter how dangerous it was, no matter what everyone else would have said about it, Marion would have done anything to save a horse. And that's why it felt so right to Amy, it made her feel like her mom. What Amy had done was impulsive. It had been dangerous. And most would argue that it was also stupid. But to Marion, and Amy, it was worth it. Her mom was committed to saving each and ever horse she had the ability to save. And Amy realized with pride and appreciation, that she did too. She had saved those mustangs with the same commitment her mom had always shown, and in that moment, Amy felt closer to her mom than she had since the accident that claimed her life. Marion had told her to never give up on a horse, and she hadn't. With this sudden knowledge, Amy couldn't stop the smile that slowly inched across her face.

Before she realized it, they were there. At first it was shocking to see the smoldering, crumbled ruins where the barn had stood, knowing that everything had all started there only a few day ago. Amy felt disbelief and a strange sense of astonishment mixing inside of her. She wondered if Ty could feel it too, the emptiness that now held so much of so many things for them both. Jack's eye rested on his granddaughter's face as she climbed out of the truck, wondering what thoughts could be racing through her mind. When he looked at Ty, he saw the same drawn expression coupled with a look of incredulity in his eyes.

After they had all gathered in a sort of circle, Scott took charge. He had previously arranged for some others to help, and they were already setting up the corral near the mustangs.

"The horses are that way," he said pointing towards where the back of the barn had faced, "not too far. I figure the best way to do this is round them into the corral, then we can work on trailering them." Everyone nodded their agreement, but Jack didn't miss the pained look that crossed Ty's face as he shifted his weight on his crutches.

"Is your leg hurting?" Jack questioned. Ty felt everyone's eye move to him.

"No," he said quickly, "I'm fine." It was a lie. His leg was aching in protest to all of his sudden movement. But he was glad to be there and didn't want to give anyone, especially Jack, a reason to doubt or worry about him.

"Well, even so I think it would be a good idea if you rested it for a little while before hiking back there," Jack said as he waved behind him.

"Jack, really I'm-" Ty started to object.

"Besides," Jack interrupted, "It'd be safer to stay away until the horses are rounded into the corral. They may be hurt, but they're still wild animals, and if one decides to act up, you wouldn't be able to get out of the way quickly enough." Ty couldn't argue with that.

"And I don't want you to stay alone," Jack said, his voice full of sarcasm, a hint of a smile on his face. He was accusing Ty of being unable to stay out of trouble.

"I can stay with him Jack," Mallory quickly volunteered.

"Oh no, I want you with me so I can keep an eye on you." Jack immediately insisted.

"But Jack," Mallory started to whine.

"You're just lucky you got to come at all. I could have left you behind," he said pointedly, "with Lou." At that, Mallory quieted.

"Amy, you can stay with Ty. That head of yours could probably use the rest anyway. You two can join us after we have the horses penned," Jack told them, the knowing smirk on his face suggesting that he hadn't just now came up with the idea.

Suddenly they found themselves alone. An uncomfortable silence rang around their ears as they tried to look anywhere else, only to finally find each other's eyes.

"Hey," Ty spoke first, "if you want to catch up with them it's okay. You don't have to stay back here because of me. I'll be fine."

"No, I want to stay," Amy was surprised instantly by what she had said. "Grandpa's right anyway," she rushed on, now with a smile, "you shouldn't be left alone."

Ty laughed at that. "Me? What about you?" he recanted and drew a laugh from her too. And then again there was only silence between them. For Ty, his emotions strangely resembled the ashes kicked up by their feet, being drug high on the soft breeze, twisting through the air, and then falling slowly back to the ground. They weren't motionless long enough to grab and force out of his mouth.

"It's strange isn't it," Amy finally said quietly as she walked closer to the charred ruins, "to think the barn was just here a few days ago." Ty nodded. It was different for her. She had fallen unconscious before the flames started, and had only woken after they had fled. Unlike him, she didn't get to see the faded, almost gray boards being swallowed by an inferno of red and orange. She didn't watched the flames leap through the air as they were jerked by the wind that night. She didn't see the glowing beads of light climbing high into the sky as embers flew. She didn't watch the fire stretching through the doors, licking for air as it tried to consume the dark around them. She didn't feel the heat clawing into his breath as death reached out and touched them, inviting them to follow. She didn't feel the darkness pushing down, pushing the living existence out of them. For her it was there and then it wasn't. There had to be some kind of shock in that. Damage to what tried desperately to pass as constant reality. Ty knew it must feel strange and wrong to suddenly see it all gone and vanished with nothing to put between then and now but time. But seeing it destroyed was different. Seeing it crumble, fall, be buried by growing fire, heated until is disintegrated, with nothing left but ash was so much more than strange, it was terrifying. The power that climbed in those flames was enough to smother his life without effort. It was terrifying to know they were so close to losing everything. All that now remained was cinders, fleeting glimpses of red where buried embers still burned, and smoke, slow and gentle. Such a calm and peaceful remainder of what had ripped opened the sky just a few nights before.

Amy watched as Ty limped on his crushes to follow her so they were standing in the pile of burned wood near where the middle of the barn had been only recently. He was focused on his task of moving without falling over anything, and he didn't notice her watching him. A sudden wave, so unlike water rushed over her. It wasn't cool or smooth. It didn't touch her whole body, reaching between her fingers and pulling through her hair like liquid did. And it didn't come and then retreat. It was hot, burning, and sharp. It dove at one place, her heart, and twisted and pried relentlessly, refusing to retreat. It came with physical traces too, burning in her throat and eyes, and an aching in her stomach. Desperation, that's what it was. Desperation to relieve her guilty conscious, and at least voice her failures to the one it had hurt the most.

"Ty," she said, struggling to force strength into her speech but absolutely determined to say the things that had drug through her mind and stolen any possibility of happiness for days. He looked up at her face, and could immediately see the serious tone in her features. Instinctively his body began moving forwards her, wanting to be closer to easy her pain if possible. Amy waited until he worked his way over to her before continuing. She wasn't sure if she could speak above a whisper, like the guilt and shame were drowning out her voice.

"I'm so sorry."

It came out on the verge of her tears, so by the time she met his eyes, hers were already pooling with water. She rushed to continue before he could talk, though by the confused and perhaps shocked stare he gave her, he probably wouldn't anyway.

"I sorry for everything. You were right, you were right about everything and I should've listened. It's my fault you got hurt and I…I'm sorry." The tears rolled down her face freely now.

Shock comes when something unexpected happens. Horror comes when something terribly wrong or unfair happens. And both best explained the feelings lurching up Ty's throat and out his mouth in sharp breaths. It was wrong for Amy to blame herself, solely herself. She was no more the cause of this then him, and still, he was more to blame. Because he more than she had the power to stop it. And he hadn't, not in time to save either of them from pain. Words rushed to his lips and thoughts rushed in his mind. Every kind of rebuke or rejection of her words almost can out. But they didn't make it to voiced words, his shock and horror keeping them locked down.

"Amy, no. None of this is your fault," he finally said as he reached out and grabbed her shoulders, letting his crushes loose. One remained standing against his rids, the other fell into the ashes.

"This is my fault. If I had done something different, if I…" he didn't finish. His eyes dropped and silent words moved through his body like blood, thick and dark like they themselves were accusing him, declaring his failures. If he had done better. If he had reacted differently. If he had tried harder. If he had behaved smarter. They all collided together to taunt his. If he was different. That thought was truly were his doubts and regrets emerged from. If he was different he would be better. If he was different perhaps they wouldn't have gotten hurt.

Through her watering eyes Amy could see the turmoil in his features. She knew Ty was blaming himself. She knew he was taking the blame that was hers and gathering it to carry alone. And in a moment she suddenly understood his distance the past couple days. He was pushed away by his guilt, guilt that was rightfully hers. He hadn't been angry with her. He was angry and disappointed at himself for what he couldn't keep from happening to her. How could he be so mistaken? She felt pain at this new knowledge, pain that pressed in her lungs, weakening her ability to speak. He was stealing the blame. It wasn't his to take.

"Ty," Amy breathed in a whisper, her voice melting into the breezes so there was hardly a difference in their sound. He only knew she said it because he looked to her face again and he saw her lips form his name.

"Amy, I.." He kept going, ignoring her protect.

"Ty," she said again, not being so easily ignored, "You saved my life." He could feel her arms shaking under his hands.

"I messed up Amy, again," he insisted, "You got hurt and if I had-"

"If you had done anything different, I could have died," she said. The effect of her words were immediate. To hear her say she could have died felt like the ground had fallen out below him. In that instant he suddenly realized how utterly terrible it would be, how completely devastating it would be, how painfully crippling it would be to lose her.

But she hadn't died. Whatever injures she had received, it was nothing next to death. He had saved her from that. And he finally understood what she and Jack had now both told him. What he had done was somehow good enough. He was somehow good enough. They were both alive. He hadn't seen it before, or accepted it. But now, at the same time that it felt like the ground was dropping out below him, he felt like he was standing on solid ground for the first time in days. Maybe he didn't have as much a reason to hold on to his guilt as he'd believed. Maybe despite all of his mistakes and failures, he was capable of doing enough right.

"You have no reason to be sorry. It was my fault. It was my idea. You told me not to go and I didn't listen. I'm sorry," Amy told him, her wet blue eyes holding his.

"You only didn't what you thought you had to do," Ty said gently.

"So did you. And it was perfect. You got us both out of there alive," she said back. There was a pause, a silence that bounced off the ground and up into the sky above them.

"Will you forgive me?" Amy suddenly asked quietly.

"Yeah," Ty answered in and equally soft tone. "If you forgive me." Amy nodded as relief collapsed over her.

To share in such relief and happiness was too much of a pressure urging them together. Wordlessly they leaned into the space between them and folded into each other arms.

"I never thanked you," Amy breathed into Ty's shoulder, "for saving me." Pulling her head away from his body, she looked into his face. His green eyes were studying her, and then as her words soaked in, his lips parted in a grin.

"You're welcome," he said gently, his voice touched by the sound of a ready laugh of happiness.

They stood there, on the smoldering ruins where so much had happened. Where the cool breeze did nothing to reflect any of the destruction that had burned there not long ago. Where the moving clouds above them caused a war between sunlight and shadows to be cast on the ground. They were standing close enough to feel each other's breath on their face, and they knew they were breathing each other's air.

Ty felt joy, for the first time in days as he watched Amy smile at him, beautiful and natural. He cared for her, as he had know for longer than he realized. And now, with the assurance of her smile, he wasn't afraid to care. He knew as he watched her face, and her kindness and goodness shined in her eyes, that he wasn't good enough, he didn't deserve her. But no one did. Someone would just be so very lucky, and he wanted that someone to be him.

Amy stared into Ty's green eyes, and in that moment she could finally identify the confused emotions she had been feeling for him. There wasn't a word to contain it, but she liked him. She liked him in a way she had never liked anyone before. And it was clear, and obvious, and unexpected, and it was welcomed. She was glad, so glad he was there. She knew with certainty now that she liked the boy in the loft.

The space between them was smaller than before, though neither remembered moving closer. It was just a pair of eyes consumed with each other, a pair of smiles, a pair of lips, and a temptation to meet them. And just as they both moved to comply,

"Amy!" Mallory's voice broke into their breathless moment. "Ty!" it called. Pulling back Amy laughed, finally letting her eyes drop. Laughed at Mallory's perfectly wrong timing. Ty laughed also. It had been too perfect a moment to complete. Amy glanced towards the source of their interruption.

"We should go," she whispered.

"Yeah," Ty agreed reluctantly. But before they completely drew away, he leaned in and pressed his lips to her cheek. It was enough for now. With a smile he stepped back and was thrilled with the mirroring smile on her own face. Wordlessly he gathered his crushes, and together they walked away from the ashes towards the little voice calling them.

Well, that's it, the end! A HUGE thank you to everyone who has read, followed, or favorited this story. It means everything to me. I still want to know what you thought of this chapter, and the story. Please review! I hope you guys like it, and again a huge thank you. God bless you all!