a/n: My first Sleepy Hollow fic and it's angst... *sigh*. I may or may not continue this, but it was an idea that just wouldn't leave me alone~ Enjoy.
The shot reverberated throughout the forest, loud and true, causing the inside of Abbie's head to vibrate. Her ears rang and a dull ache grew within them. For a brief moment, she wondered why the pain was so minimal, so minor.
And it was only then that she realized that it had gotten harder to breathe.
Three seconds.
Abbie attempted to open her mouth to speak, but the only noise that came from her was produced by her choking on her own blood.
Five seconds.
Rivulets of red leaked over her lips, dripping down her chin at a rapid rate, and the metallic taste that filled her mouth almost made her gag. This happened all while Abbie stared straight into the eyes of a now - fully aware, horrified Jenny.
Seven seconds.
"NO!" An anguished cry could be heard somewhere to her right, but she just couldn't seem to match the voice with the man's (he was a man, she was sure of it, even in her hazy state) identity. Her brain desperately tried to cling to consciousness as she arranged her thoughts to find the answer.
Though, she never really had the time to think about it, because before she knew it, the world was spinning and dimming. The edges of her vision was becoming black, causing the image of her sister's face to begin to fade. And at that time, other troubled shouts and panicked calls filled the air, however, this time what they were saying was much clearer.
Ten seconds.
But Abbie felt herself start to sway. The sky seemed to take over her entire world, for that was all she could see.
"No – NO!" A woman's strangled yell reached her ears. Unfamiliar.
"Shit! Mills!" A man this time. Unfamiliar.
"NO! LIEUTENANT!" Familiar. This one was… different. It was accented. British? Yeah, British, no doubt about it. Who did she know that was British?
Oh. Right.
Thirteen seconds.
Crane. Ichabod Crane. She was certain it was him; that it was he who reached out to grab her, only managing to brush the sleeve of her jacket, before she went down. It was he who cradled her limp body in his arms, staring at her with bright blue, concerned eyes. It was he who begged for her to wake up while he pressed his forehead into her chest and sobs wracked his lanky frame.
Though, she wouldn't really know all that.
She was gone before she could even touch the ground.
Fifteen seconds.
Ichabod Crane had seen the shot before he heard it. He had noticed the way that Miss Jenny's finger was twitching, how her eyebrows furrowed deeper with each word the Lieutenant spoke. The darkness inside her caused her teeth to clench together, her jaw set in a firm line while her mouth was curved downward into a frown.
They, he, the Lieutenant, and Mister Hawley, had finally managed to track down the younger Mills before she delivered a fatal wound (which they originally presumed was meant for Abbie) to Captain Reyes that could have life-altering consequences. So when they had located her, Miss Mills stepped in front of her gun, thinking that it would prevent Miss Jenny from firing the weapon.
But no one anticipated how much the coin had twisted Jenny's mind.
And so when Abbie's sister fired the rifle, he saw everything.
The way the Lieutenant's body jolted backwards, blood beginning to seep into the fabric of her shirt almost immediately. The instant her eyes glazed over, locked with Jenny's wide ones. The moment that Abbie stopped breathing. And even as he rushed over to his partner's side in efforts to catch her before her body hit the dirt of the forest floor, he knew that she was gone. The gun was shot from point blank, going clean through the Lieutenant's small figure, spraying crimson all around the autumn leaves and speckling the ground with flakes of red. And even if she didn't suffer a slow death from bleeding out, the bullet went straight through her heart. She was gone.
He knew.
He just didn't want to believe it.
Ichabod remembered the words, "NO! LIEUTENANT!" leaving his lips before his mind and eyes completely zeroed in on the woman's unmoving body on the ground. He fell to his knees beside her and brushed away the stray hairs over her forehead. "Lieutenant…" He pleaded quietly, knowing that she wouldn't hear him, but he went on to pulling her gently into his arms, holding her limp body close to him.
She was gone.
He pressed a trembling hand to her neck, trying to feel for a pulse, only to have dread and devastation roll against his heart in waves, each one growing stronger with each second gone by. The pain he felt in his heart was nothing compared to what he felt in his soul. It muffled out Jenny's screams and Hawley's futile reassurances, allowing him to fully comprehend the magnitude at which his heart was aching. However, he did not need to be reminded. He knew.
She was gone.
"Please, Lieutenant - Abbie," he begged, stroking the sides of her face, letting his thumb wipe away some of the blood that remained on her chin. "I am lost without you; please, do not leave. You must wake up." But he knew she wouldn't and it just wasn't fair. Hot, burning tears filled his eyes as he bowed his head, letting his forehead rest near the crook of her neck and Ichabod cursed himself for not being more careful. He should have stopped Henry when he had the chance—but really- he should have known. The bible said the Witnesses would go through seven years of tribulation.
However, never did it say anything against one of the two Witnesses dying during that time. But the unthinkable had occurred. And now…
She was gone.
The strong, fiery young woman that helped him eat, live, and breath in this strange new era, was gone. Her scent would slowly fade from the archive room, leaving a stench that was so very him and so very alone. He would never get to hear her laugh at his new discoveries of the twenty-first century, nor would he get to see her smile at the absurdity that was baseball games. Never again, would he utter the words, "Lieutenant Mills," and expect to see her deep brown eyes lock with his questionably.
Every day he would be alone, only encouraging his mind to linger on thoughts of her and how his partner, his companion, his one and only friend in this new world was dead. And with these realizations hitting him all at once, a choked, wet sob left his lips, grieving for all he had lost.
However, what caused the first tear to fall was the thought of what she had lost.
Her life.
Her fire.
Their spark.
She is gone.