Amy's got the letters I wrote

My picture in a frame

She's had a year to let go

She's still wearin' my ring

It hasn't left her finger since the night that I proposed

When I promised her forever before I took her home

I look in on her every day. Sometimes she is with Spartan. Sometimes she is on the couch with Jack. Mostly she is in her bedroom. She goes there to cry: I don't think she wants anyone to see her. She sits on her bed, looking through the text messages I sent her, the postcards I had carefully printed her address on because they needed to get to her. She has my picture next to her bed. She keeps my face turned down against the wood of the nightstand until it's time for her to go to sleep. Just after she's tucked herself between the covers, she reaches for that framed photograph and tucks it in next to her, kissing the glass above my face goodnight.

Her engagement ring clinks against the frame sometimes in the middle of the night. It always wakes her up. She was never a light sleeper, but now even the sound of her own breathing will make her jump at three a.m. Sometimes I wonder if she will ever take her ring off and a part of me hopes she doesn't. The night I proposed she smiled my favourite smile of hers – I had it catalogued in my brain and I thought of it every day, just to make sure I wouldn't forget what she looked like when she smiled because of me.

I wonder if I'll ever get the chance to see her smile like that again. It was so pure, filled with raw joy, that night. I slid that ring on her finger and I hoped I looked as happy as she did that night, underneath the stars.

But I never made it home that night

Part of her died too

I've watched her losin' her mind

And there's nothin' I can do, oh

Sometimes she goes crazy screamin' out my name

Saying "baby please come save me"

I don't remember why we went off the road. I don't remember feeling any pain as I died.

I remember being worried about her.

She was okay, physically. The first thing I heard when I became aware again was her screaming. It was a high pitched keening noise that I would never have believed could have come from her if I hadn't seen it myself. Lou was with her, gripping her arms, trying to keep her anchored to the hospital bed.

"Amy!" Lou screamed, trying to get her to listen, but she wouldn't. "Amy, please!"

There were tears streaming down Lou's face but she wasn't crying. I remember that part clearly. I knew better than to try to reach out to her. Somehow, I already knew that I had crossed to somewhere that I hoped she wouldn't follow me to, not for a very long time.

"Ty!" Amy burst out, hands going to her face to hide her features. "TY!" She shouted my name again.

My heart was breaking because she was breaking and I couldn't put her together.

"I'm so sorry, Amy," Lou breathed.

I don't know if she heard Lou. I don't know if she wanted to. If someone was sorry, that meant accepting the news as the truth. And I don't know if she was ready for that. I didn't blame her. It was the second time she woke up in a hospital bed, hearing that someone she loved was gone.

I was so sorry for doing that to her.

"TY!" She yells again, tearing at her hair and scratching at her arms. "Ty," she whimpers. "Please, I need you. Come back. Come here. Please, come save me."

Oh, how I wanted to.

I wish she knew I'd do anything

To kiss the tears right off her face

Tell her everything's okay

Feel her heart beat next to mine

And make up for lost time

Oh but God I know I can't

I would move heaven and earth, hell and high water, to make her stop crying. I wished I could take my thumb, run it across her soft cheek, tearing away the tear tracks. I wished I could bend my head to hers and follow the path my thumb had just carved, before finding my way to the gentle curve of her lips. I wished I could have her kiss me back, smiling into my embrace like she had so many times before. I would hold her close, so tight that she wouldn't be able to breathe but that would be okay because I could hold her again. I would lean and whisper in her ear that it was okay, that there had been some kind of mix-up because no one could possibly play this cruel of a joke on us.

I wish we could lay next to each other again. I wish I could open my eyes and she would be there, the sunlight tracing along her curves. I wish I could feel her skin against mine, tangled in a mass of sheets, our fingers threaded together as our limbs became intertwined. I wish she was able to fall asleep against my chest, where if I closed my eyes and concentrated, I could feel her heartbeat, a perfect echo of my own.

I wish I had another chance to live it all over again. I wish I had a chance to steal back every tear I ever caused her, every heartache we ever had, every moment we were apart. If I had known that a day would come where I couldn't be next to her anymore, I never would have left her. No life experience was worth not being by her side every day.

I wish I could take it all back and do it all over again, and do it right.

But You can't let her live this way

It's too late for savin' me

But there's still hope for savin' Amy

For a long time, she didn't live. She existed day to day, going through the motions. She said what she was expected to say, but everyone noticed that she wasn't right. It was obvious she wasn't who she was supposed to be. She was being lost to herself. She lost weight and hardly left her bedroom. She refused to ride, simply standing next to Spartan (when she did go to the barn) and running a brush over the same spot over and over again. She was a ghost, more so than I.

I was not a religious man. I was on the other side but I hadn't changed my mind yet. All I can say is that it felt different on this side than it did over there. Looking at her, looking at how she wasn't even half of her former self, I closed my eyes and I prayed. I prayed that she would be saved. It was much too late for anything to be done about me – the root of her agony – but that didn't mean there was no hope for her.

I prayed that she would smile again. I prayed that she would laugh. I prayed that she would ride. I prayed that she would heal. I prayed for her to be saved.

Now 3 years have gone by

She's finally livin' life

And I still watch sometimes

Just to make sure she's alright

She knows I'll always be there

In her heart and in her dreams

Cause God, I promised her forever and that's one promise I intend to keep

It's been a long time. She smiles now. Katie makes her laugh more than anyone else. She rides. She and Heartland are still going strong, many successful horses leaving the gates. She was healing. She was going to be okay. I check in on her as often as I can, although I don't think I'm supposed to be this preoccupied with the human life this long after my death, but I can't help it. I worry about her. I need to make sure she's all right.

She hasn't gone on a date yet. I, for one, am in no hurry to have that happen. If there is someone out there who will treat her right and ease her heart, I can only hope that he finds her and makes her happy. I will never let her go. I will always be there for her. I will make myself known in the roar of a motorcycle, in the sound like footsteps that she hears coming from the barn loft. I will let her know that I have never, will never, abandon her.

I hope she's confident in this. I hope she knows that when I said I would love her forever, I meant that I would still love her on the other side. I hoped she lived life. I hope she did everything she could to the best of her ability (and I firmly believed that she was; she was not one to hold back once she got going). She was going to be okay. She was, if nothing else, a fighter.

She still wears my ring though.

And kiss the tears right off her face

Tell her everything's okay

Feel her heartbeat next to mine

Make up for lost time

God I know I can't

"TY! TY! TY!" She wakes herself up, screaming my name. Her hands scratch at the blankets, looking for me, but I'm not there.

I wish I was. I wish I didn't let her down every time she reached for me, realization coming like a tsunami over her again and again. She's stopped sleeping with my photo but it hasn't left her nightstand.

"Ty," she cries into her hands, tears leaking down her cheeks.

I'm standing in her bedroom, though I don't think I'm allowed to be. I have no way of letting her know that I am here, but I hope she senses it. I hope she realizes that I'm here, trying to stop her tears, trying to let her know that it's okay. I move to sit on the end of her bed. I hope I make some kind of dent in the mattress and I hope she feels the weight change, how her toes are now being drawn toward where I sit.

She looks up from her hands, eyes searching the room.

"I'm here," I whisper, unsure if she can hear me.

"Ty?" She asks the darkness. "I miss you."

"I miss you too."

She looks to the spot I am sitting, stretching out her hand. "Are you there? I love you, Ty. I'll love you forever. Don't forget it."

"Never, Amy," I swear, as I feel myself being pulled back to the other side. I don't want to go. I don't want to leave her again. "I love you forever."

But you can't let her live this way

It's too late for savin' me

But there's still hope for savin' Amy

Savin' Amy

Six months after I had gone, when she had been in the darkest place of her grieving phase, she turned to alcohol. I wished there was some way I could knock the bottle out of her hands, demand to know if she knew how stupid she was being. Somehow, I don't think it would have mattered. She knew exactly what she was doing. She was drowning her sorrows in a bottle, like her father before her.

Jack had discovered her little secret pretty quickly, and I don't think I'd ever been so thankful for that man. He had helped shape her into the woman she was. She would listen to his strong voice and take his help the moment he offered it. She cried as she poured the whiskey into the toilet and flushed, hands shaking from withdrawal only hours after.

I wished that I could shake Jack's hand, thank him personally for saving her from herself. She was drowning and it would take everyone she knew to pull her back to the surface.

I'll kiss the tears right off her face

When I walk her through these gates

Feel her heartbeat next to mine

Make up for lost time

And God I'll thank you everyday

It took sixty-three years for me to see her again. She died without marrying, without having children. All she left behind was a legacy of her horse abilities that she had engrained in Katie as soon as Katie showed an interest in horses.

I was waiting for her to come to me. I had felt the electric shock, deep in my bones, the moment her heart in her physical body had stopped. Perhaps it was wrong of me to smile when I knew she was gone from that world, because it meant so many people on earth would grieve, but I didn't care. I had missed her for sixty-three years.

She didn't see me when she first arrived. She stumbled around, eyes struggling to take in every detail of the gates set before her. I now knew why I had been allowed to cross so easily between the barriers of the human world and this one – I had never entered those gates. I hadn't allowed myself to: I had to wait for her. She was staring in wonder at the gates when I spoke.

"You look lost."

She jumped, her hand going to her chest as she spun around. Her eyes met mine and her beauty made my knees go weak, my insides turn to jelly and my heart run like a horse on the track; a motorcycle out of control. Her eyes took in every detail of my face, before her mouth twisted and she burst into tears, sinking to her knees.

I ran to her side, bringing her to my chest like I had been waiting to do for decades. She grabbed onto me, her grip strong and tight. I held her back, hand rubbing along her spin, lips to her ear.

"It's okay, it's okay. I'm here now, we're together again."

"You're real, this is real," she gasped against my sweater. "Oh, Ty!" She tilted her wet face up so that she was looking at me. "You'll never believe how much I missed you."

"You'll never believe how much I missed you," I countered with a breathless laugh. Tears were coming to my own eyes, though I hated to cry. She was here, in my arms again, and I couldn't contain the beauty of the moment within me.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

I slid my hands along her jawline so that I was cradling her face. I brought it to my own, kissing her like it was the first time I had ever kissed a girl; soft, slow, savoring every inch of her lips, of her touch. She brought one of her own hands up, taking mine away from her face, just so she could hold it. As we embraced, I could feel her heartbeat, a perfect echo of mine.

For giving her that house of faith

That led her right back here to me

And most of all for savin' Amy

For Amy

Savin' Amy

Thank you God for savin' Amy

"I like to think I'll see you again," she tells my headstone. "I know I will. It's the only thing keeping me sane. I know that you're gone, but I don't think you'd ever truly leave me. I love you, Ty, and I know that you loved me too. You said you'd love me forever and I'm going to hold you to that."

She tries to smile, but fails.

"I remember the accident," she admits. "And I want you to know that it's not your fault, if you were thinking that at all. It was just a stupid accident that took you away from me and that's what really gets me some days. There is no blame to lay; it was an accident and we couldn't avoid it. It just happened so fast and one second you were there with me and the next second Lou was telling me that you were gone.

"I already knew that. I don't know if you'd laugh at this or not, but I always imagined that I could feel you, in my heart. No matter where I went, or what I did, or what sort of terms we were on, I could always feel another beat in my heart, one that I always believed belonged to you. Maybe that's silly. It probably is. I'm just a ridiculous head case, as always."

Here she touches my name on the stone and I close my eyes and believe that I can feel her fingers brushing along my face.

"But I don't remember feeling it before I met you – I swear it was there the first day we laid eyes on each other even though I thought that I would hate you forever after that first meeting. That extra beat is gone now. I can't feel you anymore."

Tears start streaming down her face, and I make a move to wipe them away before I remember that I can't touch her anymore; I can't make her feel better.

"I wish I knew you were here," she bawls.

I wish I could tell her.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," I respond, hoping that my words are carried into her ears, no matter how impossible it may seem.

Savin' Amy

Thank you God for savin' Amy

Savin' Amy yeah

Savin' Amy

Savin' Amy

Savin' Amy

Thank you God for savin' Amy

I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my awesome beta: noble6. The song is Saving Amy by Brantley Gilbert.

~TLL~