Recovery

Chapter 48

Quick A/N

Just wanted to say that my favorite comment including a magestic baby narwhal was written by: @Just_a_Meow_Monster . I'm sorry you cracked your phone.

After I eat dinner, I head out to the barn to see Trigger. He's in his stall, as I bathed him this evening and don't want him to roll tonight. Besides, it's a lot easier to get him from his stall in the morning than from the paddock.

I slip into his stall, and press my hand to his cheek.

"Hey boy," I coo, rubbing circles onto his face with my thumb.

His eye meets mine, a chocolatey pool of warmth.

"You know, Trig," I whisper. "You've changed a lot. When I met you, you knocked me into a puddle. Completely ruined my favorite shorts, you know."

I chuckle lightly at the memory, my lips curving upward in a smile.

"I couldn't even catch you, let alone stand beside you in your stall. You almost knocked me out when I tried. I'd never be able to do this," I say quietly, running my hand down his neck.

"I can't believe I'm going to have to leave you," I say, water appearing in the corner of my eyes. "I mean, I knew from the beginning I was going to leave, Hell, I wanted to leave when I got here. But now- god, I can't stand the thought of leaving you."

I reach my arms around his neck, lying my head down against his shoulder. I sit there silently for a while, waiting for my breathing to calm down.

"God," I snort, letting go of Trigger, "Chey would tease me so bad if she saw me getting choked up over a horse."

I pause, waiting for the sharp pain that always comes when I think of Chey. But it doesn't come.

Instead, a warm feeling of safety comes over me. The feeling Trigger gives me.

I smile, and place a kiss below his forelock.

"Goodnight Trig," I sigh. "I love you."

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"Where the hell is my sweatshirt," I mutter to myself, tearing through my suitcase.

It's about 11:30 and I can't sleep, my mind clouded with worry for Avery, wherever he is.

I am looking for my favorite, soft purple sweatshirt to sleep in. Despite the hot weather outside, the house itself is chilly, and my tank top just isn't cutting it.

I close my eyes for a minute, trying to retrace my steps to the last place I wore it.

My eyes snap wide open when I remember.

I wore it to bed the last night I slept in Avery's room. I got hot in the middle of the night and took it off, tossing it under the bed.

I groan, and make my way to his room.

At least he's not home yet.

At that thought, a sinking feeling appears in my stomach.

He's not home yet.

I can't imagine it taking him more than two hours at the cemetery, and that's being generous.

But he's been gone all day, without a trace.

I enter his room, frowning at the sight of it.

The only light is from that of a lamp on his nightstand that he forgot to turn off. His bed is made up perfectly, although there is a slight indentation in the center of it, as if he layed down without pulling the covers back.