"Well done, Captain Crane."

With a nod, Ichabod gave the General a small smile.

"I'm just glad I could fulfill my duty, Sir."

"With these documents, the future of this war seems closer to an end."

Ichabod listened intently to the General's words. It had been an arduous journey he'd been sent on in the retrieval and delivering of the documents the General now held. To what they pertained, he knew not, only that the impact of them would land a welcomed help to their cause. His mission had taken the better part of a month and he was exhausted. The General hadn't trusted anyone to accompany him, resulting in little sleep on his part as he'd had to remain constantly aware of his surroundings. The enemy had been closing in as of late, making his nerves regarding capture all the more frayed. To make matters worse, his route home had been blocked. At every corner it seemed the enemy had an encampment, forcing him to backtrack and take a detour that delayed him by a little over a week.

"I'm sure you are tired, Captain, but I'm afraid I cannot grant you much time to rest. We'll be moving camp tomorrow."

Ichabod frowned. "To where?"

"We need to replenish our supplies. The food is low, as are the men's spirits." The General turned to face him. "We'll be moving into New York."

"New York?" He felt his heart skip a beat.

The General nodded. "Yes, more accurately, Sleepy Hollow."

At those words, only one thought filled him.

Katrina.

"Though, I must inform you before you retire that I'm afraid we sent a letter to your wife."

Ichabod stood straighter, a sense of dread filling him. "My wife?"

The General shifted in an uncomfortable manner. "Yes, upon your failure to return in the allotted time, we feared the worst."

His heart began to beat faster as he whispered the words he was sure he didn't want the answer to. "What sort of letter did you send her?"

"I'm afraid it was a letter of condolence."

Condolence. A letter of condolence. His mind searched for a response as he felt himself begin to breathe heavily. Hyperventilate. That was the word. That's what he was doing. Hyperventilating. His Katrina thought he was dead.

Bringing a hand to his head, he blinked a few times.

"Captain Crane?"

"I need-" Reaching out for the table in front of him, he braced himself. "When did you send the letter?"

"Four days ago."

She had it. There wasn't a possible way she wouldn't have received it by now. Sleepy Hollow was a three day journey from their current location. By the time he reached her, she would have already thought him dead for days.

"I'm very sorry, Captain Crane." He paused a moment before patting Ichabod on the back. "We'll be departing in a handful of hours. You should rest."

Nodding, Ichabod wordlessly stumbled from the tent. No, he would take no rest this night. It would allude him as it certainly alluded his beloved.

Rain. Of course it would rain today. Of all days to be covered in mud from traveling, it had to be today. The last day of their journey and a slight storm had to set in, slowing them considerably.

Making his way down the street, Ichabod wiped at his eyes, his hat doing little to stop the rain from draining into them. As he paused to direct one of his comrades toward the inn, he did his best to keep himself under control. He needed to find her. Every moment he delayed was another moment she suffered.

Turning to address another soldier, his breath caught. She was standing beneath the porch of the bakery, speaking with the Reverend, seemingly waiting out the rain. Her eyes were on the ground, her stance off.

Feeling his heart pick up its pace, he took a step toward her, but was pulled out of his stare by a voice.

"Captain Crane?" Ichabod tore his eyes from his wife to look to the soldier at his side. "The inn?"

Doing his best to gather his senses and focus, Ichabod nodded. "Of course, it's..."

His eyes glanced back to the bakery, but he frowned when he found she was no longer there. A slight panic filled him. Where had she gone? Scanning the walkway that led down the street from the bakery, he felt his pulse begin to quicken as every dart of his eyes failed to find her. How had he lost her so quickly?

"Ichabod..."

Spinning around, he found her standing not ten feet from him, a disbelieving expression on her face. She was completely drenched, the rain splattering across her face and sliding down her in droves.

"Are you really here?"

Before he could answer her, she was in his arms, having vaulted herself at him. As he held her to him, her hands found their way to his face, her fingers dancing from his eyes to his nose to his lips.

"You're real."

Finally finding his words, he caught her eyes. "Yes, my love. I'm here."

A moment later her lips were crushed to his, her hands sliding into his hair as his hat had been knocked from him. As she pulled him as close as possible, he could feel her desperation, her need to ascertain that he was in fact real and here. Wanting to assure her, as well as feel every part of her, he flattened his hands across her back, pulling her fully against himself.

He'd been visualizing this moment, the moment she was in his arms once more. It had been months since he'd last seen her. Months. And for the last three days, since learning of the letter, his patience at being parted from her had vanished completely.

The clearing of a throat forced him to pull his mouth from hers, but he refused to release her from his arms. As his eyes fell on the soldier standing beside him, he realized he'd completely forgotten about the men in his company.

"I'm sorry, but...the inn, Sir?"

He attempted to speak, but his voice croaked slightly. Clearing his own throat, he nodded. "Yes, it's-it's there."

The man followed his indicated direction before tipping his head in thanks and moving away, the other men following him.

Turning back to Katrina, he found her eyes darting over his entire person, taking in his soaked self.

"My love?"

Her eyes shot to his, blinking rapidly to keep the rain from them.

"I don't understand. The letter...it said-it said you were..."

Her words fell away as a sob escaped her. Taking her hand in his, he led her toward the walkway. Upon attaining shelter, he turned back to her, his hands reaching up to push her wet hair from her face before cupping her neck, his thumbs stroking along her jaw line.

"I am so sorry, my love. It's my fault. I took too long in returning from a mission and they assumed and I...Katrina, I..."

"I thought you were dead," she whispered. "I thought you were gone forever."

Leaning his forehead to hers, he released a shaky breath. "No, my love. I'm here."

Her hand reached up to lay against his cheek. "Don't ever do that again. Don't ever leave me, Ichabod. I won't survive."

As she spoke, her voice cracked, tears streaming down her face.

Wiping them away, he closed his eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"Are you home?"

He sighed. "We'll be camped here for a few days to replenish our supplies."

"Can you-Can you stay with me?"

Catching her eyes, he noticed her desperate hope, and promised, "Nothing could keep me from you." Lightly brushing his lips over hers, he whispered. "Let's go home, my love."

With a nod, she conjured a small smile as he slid a hand down to claim hers. Stepping back out into the rain, he finally allowed the cloud of darkness that had been hovering over him slip away, content to simply be with his beloved.

This may or may not have a second part. It was originally almost 5,000 words, but we shall see...