I wake up with the sun, with the first beam of early morning light to spill across the bed.

A confused, tangled burst of worry wakes up with me. In my half-asleep haze, I don’t know what to put it down to. Then I remember that Aiden went missing, disappeared for days and days.

For a horrible moment, I’m scared that I only dreamt of getting him back, that I’m about to open my eyes and find myself alone.

Before that fear can fully take hold of me, I become aware of a warm body curled around mine. A quiet breath, slowly breaking, withdrawing, and breaking again on the back of my neck.

Aiden is sleeping with his nose buried in my hair.

One muscular arm is tucked around me, holding me close against him. One of his legs is resting partially over one of mine, as if to keep me weighted there.

The wave of anxiety that had started to rise up in me dissolves and draws away, swallowed back up into the ocean of my bigger, more powerful feelings. Security, comfort, closeness, intimacy. Aiden’s fingers are curled up, his knuckles resting against my lower stomach, and even this one little touch feels so good. It feels like love.

I carefully roll over, easing our intertwined bodies apart, but not pulling away. Just moving so that I can see him for myself.

Aiden has one arm threaded through the space between my neck and the bed. He's deeply asleep, his dark lashes touching the highest curve of his cheekbones. He trimmed his beard before we went to bed, and it's cut close enough to his face that I can make out the chiseled line of his jaw, see that it’s relaxed and untense. His breaths flutter the glossy strand of chestnut hair that's tumbled down into his face.

I lay there for a long time, just looking at him. I close my hand around his, and in his sleep, he lets out a quiet sigh, strokes my fingers with his thumb.

I write him a note so that he doesn’t worry about me when he wakes up, then get dressed as quietly as I can. Aiden's bronze skin is the only warm color in the pool of deep blue shadows that is his bedroom right now, which means that the sun is a long way from fully risen. I don't want him to wake up this early. I want him to stay here and rest until his body, at least, doesn’t remember what he went through over the past few days.

When I slip into the bathroom to brush my teeth, I stop and look at the shower, the place where Aiden put me up against the wall and loved me until I couldn't speak, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but feel him and love him back.

The vetiver scent is still floating through the air.

I bend down and press a soft, lingering kiss onto his cheek before I go. I tease the connection open with my lips. I let the way I’m feeling about him spill through very gently. A preventative measure against the nightmares, just in case.

Aiden smiles in his sleep, his toes curling.

The bed looks soft and inviting. Aiden even more so. But I have someplace I need to be.

I step out into the blossoming dawn and head for my car. It feels so fucking good to stick the key in the ignition, not press a button. It means that this isn’t a rental, a colorless replacement for something that means a lot to me.

I turn it on, and the engine kicks to life without complaint. I settle my fingers into their indents on the wheel, and my heart warms at the feeling. Thank you, Noah.

I go directly to the shop. I don’t need to be here until the afternoon for my shift, but I’m not here to work. I just collect a few items, then go back to my car, where I tuck it all away in my bag. My gloves, some diluted herbicide in an applicator, a bigger cutting tool.

This time I have everything I need. This time, experience has left me prepared.

It’s a cold, clear morning. No storm clouds on the horizon.

I put my car in gear and head for the mountain.

~~~~

Here I am again, walking alone through the deep forest.

The last time I was here, it was the darkest part of the night, and I was panicking well before I even set foot into the trees. But right now, the sky is starting to brighten with the strengthening light of dawn, and the forest around me is gorgeous, glowing.

This time I can set my own pace. I can stop to look at the pretty things around me.

Drops of dew shimmer on every surface, glittering as the growing sunlight pushes down through the treetops. The evergreens stand tall, surrounding me on all sides. Sleepy birds flutter around in their branches. The snow, eaten up by the rain, has left swaths of the forest floor exposed. Everywhere I look, I see rich green, clay brown, honey, olive, peach - all the cold-brushed coloration of winter nature. Yellow witch hazel is blossoming happily in the frigid temperature. Long, cascading strands of tiny white flowers hang down from silk tassel bushes, rippling in the breeze as I go by.

The forest is vocal, but not in the scary way it was at night. I hear the distant whisper of a hidden creek in movement, the warbles of the birds splashing around in it.

There’s a rosy tint to the cold air. It’s all sun and wind, just stirring to life for the morning.

I keep waiting for my fears to come up and swallow me, but they don't. The contrast between the forest of now and the forest I rushed through to reach Aiden’s Tree… it’s just way harder to be scared, when it looks like this. This is actually kinda peaceful. Welcoming. Beautiful. I feel calm enough to wander into my thoughts.

I've been wondering if my internal path to the Tree would be temporary, if the magic that Aiden used to give it to me would wear off after I found it. Now I'm certain that it hasn't, and won't. I’m easily following the same intuitive sense that guided me before, and I know that I’m going the right way.

I hope it means that the knowledge Aiden gave me is permanent, because I’ll be walking this path many more times in the future.

I stop in the clearing, gazing up at the Guardian Tree.

Pale pink sunlight pours down the silver bark very slowly, like syrup, moving in time with the slow pace of the sunrise. The leafy canopy shifts and dances in the breeze, an ocean of green in all its shades.

I walk up to the Tree, place my palm on the trunk, and pop a kiss onto the bark.

“Don’t mind me, babe,” I tell Aiden, lifting the strap of my bag over my head and setting it aside. “You keep sleeping. I’m just making sure that everything looks okay, alright?”

When I go to pull on my gloves, I realize that the bruises on my hands look worse, unfortunately - almost black, now - but that’s okay. They’re going to look worse before they look any better. At least the swelling is starting to go down. It’s gone down a lot, actually.

The physical reminders of what happened are already starting to fade, but the memory is crystal clear in my mind, and I know that I won’t forget it. Not ever.

As I get to work dealing with the stump of the choking vine, I remember what it felt like when I thought I might lose Aiden and not get him back.

There was a particularly horrible moment when I was four towns past Greenrock, way farther than I hoped I’d have to go to find him. I got back into my car after searching the bus station there, finding nothing. The sun had set, and I was worn down to my bones. I was so dazed, scared, and exhausted that for a second, I forgot what was going on. I only understood the sense of urgency, nothing else.

“Aiden, come on,” I’d said loudly, when I looked over and saw his seat empty. I got back out of the car, my voice about to crack with despair. “Aiden, we don’t have time, get in the car-”

And it was only then, when I was standing there, alone in the bus depot parking lot, that I remembered he wasn’t there at all. That he was what I was looking for.

I got back into my car, sat there in a miserable heap, and caught sight of myself in the rearview mirror. I was paler than someone who had bled out, looking like one more hit would be the death blow. My eyes were startlingly wide, as were the dark circles around them. I was painfully aware of what a wreck I was, but still, I could barely think about myself. All I could think of was Aiden, and the yawning space in my car where he should have been.

What I’m thinking about now is the terrified look on Aiden’s face when I found him.

I never want to see that look on his face again.

I draw back from the stump of the choking vine, take a look at my work, and nod to myself, satisfied. This thing is not growing back. I slip my gloves off before I go back to Aiden's Tree, on the off chance that any herbicide got onto them.

I gather up the cuttings of the vine that I broke off of the Tree, scatter them around its base. They’re dead, and I know that they won’t be brought back to life, even with steady rainfall and good sunlight. They’re going to break down and decay, give everything back to the forest. I’m placing them in the hope that they’ll give the Tree back the nutrients that they stole from it.

When I'm finished with that, I do a slow, careful lap of the Tree, examining the bark, trailing my bare hands over it very lightly as I go. My eyes are narrowed, searching for any signs of bugs, unnatural growth patterns, spores, or wounds to the wood. I lean all the way up and examine the lowest hanging leaves, searching for any signs of discoloration.

I speak quietly to Aiden as I examine his Tree. Little nothing words, just whatever's on my mind.

The leaves show no symptoms of sickness. The beautiful silver bark is soft and pliable. The earth at the base of the Tree is loose enough to let oxygen reach where it needs to go. So far as I can tell, the choking vine was the only problem.

But I want to be absolutely sure that nothing is amiss with the Tree, so I take a second pass. I go slow. My fingers move all over the Guardian Tree, inch by inch, everywhere I can reach, pressing and feeling for any soft places that might indicate internal decay.

I let out a heavy breath when I’m sure that I’ve found none. I step back from the Tree and realize that the sun has risen. I’ve been here much longer than I thought.

I gather everything back into my bag, settle the strap across my chest, and step back to take one last look at the Guardian Tree.

It’s so powerful, so beautiful and special that I almost forgot it could be brought down at all. But even the strongest things need love and care, support and nurturing. As with all living things, interdependence is vital to its survival.

This Tree stands at the center of my garden, and from now on, I plan to take care of it. No matter what happens, I’ll be back here to check on it, to make sure that it’s blossoming and growing and breathing. I’ll never go too long without returning to tend to it, with all the gentleness I can draw into my hands.

“Guess I’ll finally have to cave and buy some hiking boots, huh?” I say to Aiden, through the Tree.

No answer, of course. Nothing besides the wind rustling in the leaves. It's a soft, tranquil sound. It feels like the Tree is telling me that all is well.

“I’ll be back soon,” I answer, and leave the clearing.

And so a new ritual is born, one I intend to keep for life.

~~~~

The familiar routine of ordering from Mugshot feels especially good today. Two coffees, not one. Two breakfast bagels, one without poppy seeds, one with extra hot sauce.

It’s icy cold outside, so I stop in front of Kent’s brightly burning fireplace and hold the coffee cups out to the flames for a moment, making sure that they’ll be toasty warm when I get upstairs. I want everything to be nice for Aiden when he wakes up. He’s had such a rough last few days.

I quietly let myself back into Aiden’s apartment, unsure if I’ve woken him up with all the little touches I placed on his Tree this morning. I don’t know how powerfully he feels them, or if he can feel them at all when he’s sleeping. Just in case, I leave the food and coffee on the kitchen counter and pad into his room in my socks, trying to make as little noise as possible.

As soon as I see Aiden, I come to an immediate stop.

He’s smiling so happily that for a second I think he must just have his eyes closed, but he’s still very much asleep. He looks melted into the blankets. His head is tipped back, his arms thrown up over it, his cheek smushed against his bicep. His legs are stretched all the way out. One is hanging off the side of the bed at the curve of his knee.

The total knockout sleep, the unsurpassably blissful, contented look on his face - he makes me think of a puppy who just got a really good belly scratch, or a sleepy child carried to bed in the warm arms of someone who cares about them. His hair is sticking up at silly angles, his jaw slack, the blankets kicked half off. He looks completely unwound, at home, serene.

Such a heart-stoppingly sweet look on him. I feel it like a sugar cube dissolving on my tongue.

Did my work on the Guardian Tree affect Aiden like a long, thorough massage? And can he hear me, when I talk to it? I’m not sure. I wonder if I’ve accidentally been murmuring in his ear all morning.

I just stand there, looking at the smile on Aiden’s face. Something gathers and gathers in my heart, and it pulls me in towards him.

I go to the bed and sit down next to Aiden, pulling up my socked feet.

I don’t know if he smells the forest on me, or the coffee aroma probably clinging to my flannel. Maybe both, or maybe he just senses me there, somehow. Whatever it is, it draws him from his sleep. He blows out a soft rush of breath, and his blue eyes slowly blink open.

He stirs in the rumpled blankets, stretches, and pulls his leg back up onto the bed. I press a kiss onto his bent knee, then gently stroke my knuckles down the side of his face. “Hi.”

He’s still waking up, but his eyes find mine and hold fast to them.

“Mmmm…. hi,” he says dreamily, his low voice raspy with sleep.

I can't help but smile to myself. I thought that I should probably get Aiden's opinion on my new ritual before I make it permanent. It’s his Tree, after all. But I’ve already got my answer. I know exactly how it made him feel, even if he doesn't know what I did.

It shows in his eyes, in his body language, his voice. It shows in the soft golden light radiating out from him, a subtle shimmer haloing his bronze skin. He’s smiling so brightly that I thought I was imagining the glow, but now that his eyes are open, I know that it’s real.

I can see it reflected there, flickering against my favorite shade of blue.

Actually - the love in his peaceful eyes as he gazes up at me is fully more than I can handle.

"Just - honestly," I tell him, blinking hard and fast, a crimson blush spreading over my face. "The way you look at me, it's - it's too much, man. My heart can't take it. Will you please stop?"

Aiden smiles, pulls me down into the bed with him, and presses his nose into mine.

"Nope," he says firmly. "I will not. Couldn't even if I wanted to, so. Get used to it, pretty boy."

I let out a sputtering, startled laugh - my cheeks burning even more than they were before - and cozy up into Aiden's arms, smiling up into his face.

The Guardian Tree is safe and happy, and so is my Companion Plant.

I intend to keep it that way.