So, this was my little blurb in the aftermath of the distastefulness we call "deliverance".
As the dawn rose outside of the quaint cabin that Lieutenant Mills had let to the man-out-of-time, Ichabod watched his wife. Centuries ago, he had developed this habit. His soldier's instinct woke him early; his wife had no such instinct. Though fully awake, he would allow himself to relish the warmth of their bed, watching the sun rise and awaiting his wife's waking. With all of the obstacles that had been laid between them, such a relaxed moment was one he ought to cherish. His mind quickly went to Ms. Mills' behaviour during peaceful times. When circumstances allowed, the Lieutenant would always seek to expose him to some interest of the 21st century. Some were met with distaste, others renewed his wonder in such an awful time. His thoughts unwillingly strayed to the experiences which the Lieutenant had been so kind as to provide for him, made all the more tangible by his eidetic memory. He smiled.
Through the walls of the cabin, he heard a great crash, as though a person had fallen to the floor. He was quickly struck by concern for Lieutenant Mills who, after a session of deep study of Moloch's plans, had stayed to rest in one of the other bedrooms. For the first time in centuries, Ichabod left his bed before his wife had woken.
Leaping into proper clothing, Ichabod crept to the door of Ms. Mills' room. He knocked.
"Ms. Mills? Ms. Mills? Are you well?" A shuffling noise inside furrowed his brow. He began to turn the knob slowly so as to allow the Lieutenant time to warn him of any indecency. No such warning came.
Opening the door, he was immediately aware of sniffling, gasping sobs coming from the corner of the room. The small figure huddled therein was the most obvious source. He crept toward it, unsure.
"Ms. Mills?"
The figure was indeed his Lieutenant, and when her head rose at his call, he knew something was wrong. She scuttled away from him, with wide, panicked eyes. He stepped closer so as to understand her fear.
"Stay away from me, Crane!"
Though not retreating, Ichabod paused, confused.
"Ms. Mills, what ails you? If I may, I shall try to aid you in it's resolution at-"
"You sold me! You gave me to him!"
"Ms. Mills, I have not any idea of what you speak but I can assure you, I haven't perpetrated any betrayal-"
Tears began afresh in her wide eyes. "Not yet. I was dreaming. And in my dream I saw you. You threw me at his feet. Offered my soul to him."
"To whom?" Ichabod questioned, fearing the answer.
"To Moloch." She whispered.
He threw himself down, locking her gaze to his. "I know he told of this betrayal but I swear on my soul that shall never, never do this thing."
Her eyes were guarded now, and he could see that she hadn't relaxed at all. He reached a hand out.
"Abbie…"
Her hand darted out, reaching behind her, and searching the bedside table. Within seconds, she had located her service pistol and pointed it at him.
"Get away from me…" She growled.
"Abbie, you must-"
"No!" She shouted. "You sold me to Moloch! I saw it."
A fierce gleam appeared in her eyes. "I'm never going to let that happen."
"Ms. Mill's, please, we can talk about this."
"No." She said in a sob. "Move. Backwards."
Slowly, Ichabod put his hands up, backing away from her. He pleaded with his eyes, for her to consider a reconciliation but a hard edge had appeared in her countenance which struck him. She really considered him harmful.
She sidestepped him, going for the door.
"Ichabod? Ms. Mills?" Katrina's voice heralded her presence, mere moments before she appeared in the doorway.
Lieutenant Mills whirled, positioning herself expertly so as to focus on both of the Cranes.
"You!" She exclaimed, pointing her gun toward Katrina. "I thought you wanted to save the world but no…you would destroy it for your own wants."
Katrina laid a hand on her chest, the picture of puzzlement. "I have not the ability to understand-"
"You're going to help Moloch. You're going to ruin us. You-" Just as quickly as her tirade had begun, the Lieutenant's mouth snapped shut as though she was physically unable to speak more. She tried again, then gestured with her gun.
"Move." She gasped.
Katrina slowly moved into the room, giving the agitated woman a wide berth. The Lieutenant began to edge toward the door, still pointing her pistol at the couple.
"Don't let her leave." Katrina whispered, looking up at Ichabod.
Though puzzled, he took a half-step forward. "Miss Mills, Abbie, please, listen to me."
She lifted her gun, pointing directly at his chest. "If I see you again, Crane, I'll kill you. I won't ever let you sell me to Moloch."
With that, she backed out of the room. Ichabod didn't move to follow her, too stunned, too hurt to try to follow after her.