He could hear her already; hear the judgment and the 'I told you this would happen' that would find itself interwoven in that concerned and caring tone she had always had for him. Yet, still his feet had basically carried him on autopilot to a place of comfort - to the stables he had found her working at months ago.
"Jen?" He called out quietly, bracing himself against barn door frame letting out a small, sharp breath. "I... don't know why I'm here. I just started walking..." He tried to explain - as if that would provide any answers at all for the visibly fading blackened veins spidering across his neck and disappearing beneath his shirt collar. Or the hand that gingerly held the deep bruising on his ribs beneath the shirt's fabric.
( @traegics - Jennifer )
