Snapshot
Summary: One second can change everything. In this case, it's more like one point three seconds. AU
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine if you know them from Heartland, but the story itself is mine. Yes, I'm claiming creative license on it.
Distribution: Write your own story. Please do not post this anywhere.
A/N: Read and review. Thanks!
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"There is something about jumping a horse over a fence, something that makes you feel good.
Perhaps it's the risk, the gamble."
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One point three seconds. In her mind, she scoffs at the number. She doesn't really remember, doesn't really know how long it was when she heard the blare of a horn before the twist of metal.
Marion Fleming purses her lips as she glances at her younger daughter and then back at the road. The rain hisses as it hits the pavement, and the sky looks almost black, with the exception of the streaks of lightning.
"Amy, can we talk about it? Please." A note of desperation fills her voice. "Amalia, you need to get your grades up. You're already qualified for the Youth World show, and you're ready for Nationals. You're pushing yourself and your horse too hard." At that, Amy looks up and frowns.
"Everything would be fine if you would get off my back about school. It's not like I'm failing." Amy bites her lip and leans into the door. She lowers the window slightly and lets the rain sprinkle across her face.
The smell of the crisp fall air barely registers before she sees the lights and hears the horn.
Maybe it was more than one point three seconds. Maybe it was less. The number doesn't matter now, now that her mother is dead.
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The cards all say the same thing. Amy wants to rip them up and throw them away, but Lou insists on sending notes to everyone who sent them flowers and cards and food.
"She's not flying with the damn angels, Lou! She's dead. Do you get that? Mom's gone, and all you care about is sending people thank you notes."
"Amy, I'm just trying to-"
"Well, stop! Stop trying! You can't fix this!"
She remembers how the tears started spilling out of Lou's blue eyes. Lou's tears are like a dagger in her own chest. Amy knows that she's not devoid of feeling, but she feels numb inside. Not for the first time, she wonders if she has forgotten how to cry.
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The funeral service is simple and short. Family friends join them for lunch after, but Amy wants nothing to do with it. People continue to come up to her and tell her how wonderful her mother was, but she wants to scream at them to shut up. Instead, she retreats to the barn and sits with Storm.
"Come back in the house. I'm tired of fighting with you. You need to say goodbye before Grandpa leaves." Amy shakes her head stubbornly.
"I need to be with Storm right now."
"Amalia Fleming, the damn horse will wait! If Dad has it his way, he'll be gone soon anyway!" Lou's scream fills the air, and her cheeks tinge with color as people glance at them.
Amy stares at Lou, momentarily paralyzed. Words fill her mouth, but she can barely form a coherent sentence.
"I hate you."
Amy leans back against Storm's stall, replaying the scene in her head. The barn's familiar scent used to be calming, but now it only reminds her of that night.
And the tears begin to fall.
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The scent of manure hits her nose first, as her eyes try to focus in the half light. A shadow falls over the chair, but Amy can only make out the silhouette of a guy.
"I'm sorry to wake you… I just, uh, your sister sent me out to look at the horses." Briefly, she looks him over. His green eyes stand out against his dark shirt and jeans. She almost laughs to herself, noting that he could have walked out of a horse catalogue, but he still seems at ease in their old barn.
Amy freezes when he says his name. He holds out his hand, but Amy stares at it blankly.
"It was your family. You and your brother were in the moving van, and your parents were following. You were in the truck that killed my mom." He steps back, but their eyes meet and lock. "If you hadn't moved here, she would still be alive. You should leave. Why are you here anyway?" He hesitates to speak and runs his fingers through his hair first.
"Your dad and I have worked out a deal for Storm. Look, I'm… I'm sorry you had to find out this way."
"No, you're not. You're not sorry at all. And now you're taking the one thing I have left," Amy snarls, pausing before she continues, "Ty."
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A/N: The end. Just kidding. Review please – reviews are lovely. Let me know what you think.