Sleepy Hollow
A/N- Hello all, welcome to my first foray into the fandom of Sleepy Hollow! I'm pretty excited about not only this show, but this story. Majority of the time when I write I'll be shipping Ichabod/Abbie unless I otherwise state so. I will never write a story with Katrina fully involved (the way she is on the show) and have Ichabod sleeping with Abbie thus implying an affair, because let's face it, for now he's still madly in love with his wife. Can you blame the guy? He did just wake up after a 250 year nap. I am also in the process of writing an M rated one shot series much like my others so if you have any suggestions feel free to PM, email, or tweet (That_Broad_Chic) them to me!
Am I the only one who simply melts at his using the proper term "Leftenant"? So much cuteness there I feel as if I'll spontaneously combust! So of course, he'll continue to call her that. For those of you who don't know why he calls her that and thinks he completely idiotic: According to the Oxford English Dictionary, leuf is a variant spelling of lieu, tracing the pronunciation back to its Old French and Middle English usage around the 12th century shows that both the English lef-tenant and the American lew-tenant were both in use. So, when Ichabod Crane says leftenant instead of lieutenant, the simple answer is, it's the British pronunciation. Why Americans say lewtenant instead of leftenant is because of reformers like Noah Webster, who wanted not only to iron out the inconsistencies in English spelling and grammar, but also to create a distinctive, American language. Why no one has corrected him is simple as well. A handsome, quirky, well mannered gothic hero who talks in poetically archaic English and wears a romantically puffy shirt is absolutely more interesting than someone who talks like everyone else. ( .au/filmtv/sleepy-hollow-lieutenant-leftenant-and- the-american-revolution/)
Lastly, reviews make us writer's feel as if we aren't wasting our time and you enjoy our work. So please, for my sanity, R&R!
ENJOY!
Jazz
Pocantico Grove, Sleepy Hollow 1882
A stout farmer idly whistles a tune as he tethers his horse to a tree.
"Easy, Amy." The Clydesdale whinnies and rears back, breaking free of the rope and galloping away. Its frantic neighs echo discordantly through the otherwise peaceful woods on the early Sunday morning. Gathering his wits, the farmer begins to untie the rope from the tree, but quickly decides that his efforts are futile and the broken rope is useless; so instead, he runs after the fleeing Stallion. Pausing for breath, the farmer - let's call him Mr. Everson - pants as he scans the woods for his horse.
"Ammmy!" he yells, his voice coming out in a hoarse croak. Staring at the sight in front of him, he backs away and allows his eyes to scan the woods.
"What-" he whispers to himself, unable to finish his sentence as a creature suddenly appears in front of him. Mere seconds earlier, this same creature had been far off in the distance, between the four white trees. The creature was unearthly and grotesque, the stuff of nightmares. It appeared to be at least half man, with claws three inches long and the horns of a goat. Its voice, low and decidedly un-human, was perhaps the most disturbing part of the whole being. Poor Mr. Everson, you see, could have no way of knowing that this awful monster was called Moloch. All Mr. Everson would know was the agonizing, searing pain as the creature drove its claw slowly across his abdomen.
Sleepy Hollow, Present Day
The fire crackles and the woman tending to it howls with laughter. Seven school-aged girls all dressed in black, circle the fire in a trancelike dance. The sound of drums and flutes resonate through the forest, and the girls seem almost possessed by it. Overhead, the sky is such a deep, dark, and endless black that it appears starless. The half moon hangs low in the sky, its orange glow making the fire appear brighter. The woman drops the hood of her red silk robe, revealing her face. She is beautiful, with hair as bright as the fire and eyes as green as a cat's. She smiles deviously as she looks at the woman in front of her.
"Esther, Esther, Esther."
The woman called Esther, with brown curly hair and piercing blue eyes, snarls fiercely, contorting her delicate features into something demonic. Her body, completely naked, hangs from a stake with no nails, pins, or other restrictive forces. She seems suspended in the air, as if by magic.
"Nu me ador dews thsan." (You will burn for this.) She howls spittle on her lips. With a flick of her wrist, the red cloaked woman incites the fire, its flames lapping at her toes. Taking a dagger from her cloak, she draws a crescent shaped moon on the forehead of her victim.
"Esther, your sacrifice is one needed for our cause. The blood coursing through your veins is the only blood strong enough to summon him. But don't worry, dear one," she tells the woman, a grin etching two deep lines into the writhing witch's cheeks.
"Your sacrifice will not be the only one for our cause. The ritual, as you know, requires seven sacrifices. One," she carves another crescent moon on each thigh. "A week." She throws her head back in ecstasy as the flames consume her screaming captive.
Westchester Police Department, the next day…
Sitting at her desk, Lieutenant Grace Abigail Mills takes her time typing up her last DD-5 and pointedly ignores the brooding Brit sitting next to her. Feeling particularly ornery, she shifts her typing speed yet again, fingers no longer flying across the keyboard. Now, she pecks at the keyboard, much like a novice computer user, and peers over at him. Crane. His name alone, unspoken, causes her to snarl. Forcing herself to look away before she does something not-so-out of-character (like choke him), she goes back to obnoxiously pecking at the keyboard.
"L.e.t. h.i.m. k.n.o.w." she pecks, inwardly grinning at his growing distress. She knows she really shouldn't be angry with him. It had been weeks since their last Moloch encounter and even that wasn't as bad compared to their initial attacks. What the hell is he waiting for? she thinks, pecking harder. Crane cringes and puffs his cheeks out. Checkmate. She grins. Continuing her one fingered typing; she allows her mind to drift to the cause of the ache in her heart.
…
The woods are ablaze. There is a thick smoke in her throat and eyes, making it impossible to see even an inch in front of her.
"Crane!" she coughs, her voice hollow sounding in her own ears. Dropping to her knees, she waves her hand in front of her. It's a futile act, but it's one she performs regardless in hopes of gaining a little sight. Instead, she is reduced to crawling on all fours, her only escape from the air-stealing smoke. All around are the sounds of a battle, her senses hyperaware even in her state of reduced breath. The only thing keeping her going is the thought of finding him. Seeing him, tall and regal, with his arm held behind his back and a lazy grin igniting the magnanimous blue of his eyes.
"Crane!" she croaks, her voice giving out. Coughing, gasping, fighting for air, she crawls an inch further. Her body, every bone and every organ, is aching and bruised.
"LEFTENANT!"
She stops. Is it him? It can't be. Her mind is playing tricks on her.
"Crane!" she screams back, somehow findingher voice, finding air, finding the strength to stand and look around, eyes search the surrounding woods. She tries; oh she tries, to see past the dense smoke. She sees Moloch and his demons swinging from the trees, igniting everything they touch in their wake. And then she sees him, ragged high collared coat dirty and torn at one sleeve, circling as he shouts for her. HER.
"I'm here!" She starts to sprint to him until another figure appears, causing her to falter, unable to look away.
"Ichabod!" she hears the figure sing with a voice as sweet as melodic rain. The woman runs to her husband, almost knocking him over as her body collides forcefully with his.
"Quickly, we must hurry. There isn't much time left. If the demons destroy this forest, Moloch will have free reign over Sleepy Hollow," she urges, forcing something into his hand. "You must use this on Iosis."
Crane is preoccupied with kissing her eyes, her sooty cheeks, and her beautiful lips before he looks at the object in his hand.
"How will I know which one, my dearest?" he asks, holding her close. He knows they only have but a moment. Always but a moment. The pair, lost in this moment of their own, drift away from her.
"He is the one with the markings of the beast on his chest. You must strike him in the ab-" her voice cuts off abruptly as she is torn from his arms and thrown back through smoke and flames.
"Katrina!" he screams, running after her.
Abbie stands, as if rooted to the spot by a force not her own. Her strength, just a moment ago so resolute, leaves her body and she falls. When she opens her eyes, she notices she's flat on her back, something heavy, so heavy, on top of her chest. This force, whatever it is, cuts off what little circulation she had. Gathering strength, she begins to raise her arms when she feels something wet and tongue-like on her cheek.
"Ande aoskg ndneifk jeh Abigail." (You belong to me Abigail.) She screams and begins to fight harder. Crippling fear penetrates her body, locking her extremities and leaving her vulnerable to the attack of this unseen demon on top of her. She hears the whistle of the wind as its claws make contact with her skin before she feels the pain of the blow. Screaming with equal parts fear and pain, she blacks out only to awaken in a hospital bed.
"Crane?" She croaks, her entire left side burning with pain.
"Shh, rest Abbie," he croons kissing her forehead. She wills herself to open her eyes and address the speaker, surprised by how hard she must concentrate in order to perform this one, simple motion. After what feels like an eternity, she succeeds.
"Crane," she whimpers, throat still burning from the smoke. Her eyes slowly focus and she looks up to see Detective Luke Morales.
"No Abs, it's me." He smiles, folds a straw and offers a cup of water to her dry lips. She welcomes it, the cool liquid soothing her irritated throat.
"Where is Crane?" she asks, trying to sit up. Instead, she lets out a howl of pain, her left arm giving out. She looks at her left shoulder, only to see thick gauze with patches of red covering her entire shoulder.
"Abbie. Rest," he instructs firmly, yet in a gentle tone. "You and Crane decided to run into the woods in the middle of a forest fire, for reasons unknown to me. Somehow you must've got snagged on a tree branch or something, because you have one hell of a set of scratch marks, Abs. If Crane hadn't carried you out, I don't think firefighters would've found you in time. You scared me," he whispers, stroking her cheek.
A forest fire? What?
"Did we kill him?" Her eyes close and she sees the entire experience again, feels the agonizing terror of that unseen thing on top of her and begins to shake.
"Kill who? The fire was an accident. Rest Abbie, I think you're a little delirious from the medicine. I'll be here when you wake up."
"Crane?" She whispers again.
"He's… I don't know. He said he must go to the place where he last saw Katrina. He must free her, whatever that means."
"What place?" Her voice takes on a dreamy tone, her body overexerted.
"I don't know. Good riddance is all I have to say. Now rest, Grace." And with that, her mind full of feelings she isn't quite sure how to describe, she falls into a deep sleep.
…
"LEFTENANT." Fingers snap in her face bringing her back to the present.
She flinches, her fingers typing an unknown word on the keyboard. She looks over to see not only Ichabod Crane, but her Captain and Morales staring down at her. To make matters worse, her fellow officers are looking over at them in bemusement.
"What?" She keeps the snarl at bay.
"Have you heard nothing I've just said to you?" Captain Irving eyes her suspiciously, and then leans down to speak directly into her ear. "Is it too early to be back, Mills? Maybe two days wasn't en-" She cuts him off with a shake of her head so fierce she feels a headache start to come on.
"No, sir. I'm fine. I was just daydreaming. Won't happen again, sir." She stands and grabs her coat. "What's going on?"
"Let Crane fill you in on the way. Sleepy Hollow Cemetery." Nodding, she bites back a moan of pain as she lifts her left arm to slide her jacket on. The wince doesn't go unnoticed by Crane - he moves to take the jacket from her right hand and assist her.
"I've got it," she bites, trying not to feel anything when he gives her a wounded look.
"You seem to still be in much pain, Leftenant." He says calmly, his eyes a storm of emotion.
"I'm fine, Crane. Tell me about the scene." She needs a change of topic or she's going to lose it. Too much too soon. Her shoulder throbs and she gives it a slow roll to prevent it from locking up. It's becoming clear pretty quickly that today is going to be a bitch.
"Leftenant, I believe I'm a tad bit behind. Is there something you wish to tell me? Your behavior is rather, bellicose." He stops to give her his full attention, eyes boring into hers.
He knows, is all she can think. But what is there for him to know? She doesn't even know what she knows, so how can he know she knows something she isn't telling him? She shakes her head, confusing herself. Maybe Irving was onto something. Clearly, she shouldn't be at work.
"What? Crane. No. You going to tell me about the crime scene or not?"
"Very well, Leftenant." He nods, opening the door for her. "There seems to have been some sort of ritualistic killing last night. A few residents who live near the north edge of the woods reported hearing drums and other strange music. A woman named Esther Newcastle is the deceased." Nearly tripping, she grabs his arm just in time to catch herself. He studies the peculiarity of the look on her face as he steadies her.
"Do you know Ms. Newcastle?" He inquires.
Her fingers tremble as she reaches into her pocket to retrieve her car keys.
"Um, yeah, that's Mayor Newcastle's wife. This can't be happening right now." She unlocks her Jeep and climbs in, mind racing with possibilities. Sleepy Hollow will never be the same.
A/N- BIG, BIG thanks to Persephone Price for beta-ing this for me! I thought it was pretty good, but she made it great. Everyone thank her! I'm working on chapter two right now so it shouldn't be long before it's up!