More than anything, Abbie wanted to believe that it was over. She had spent the last year fighting a war with the forces of Hell, losing friends along the way and living in a constant state of uncertainty about her future. The part of her brain that knew that Santa Claus wasn't real insisted that the lull that had occurred since Katrina and Henry's deaths two months before was a temporary one.

A tiny voice in the back of her mind kept reminding her how much she relished the thrill of combat. Despite the fear and pain that the rise of Moloch had inflicted on her life, she couldn't deny the fact that she lived for this shit. Nights spent huddled in the Archives with Crane, researching arcane languages and coming up with strategies to defeat the latest ghoul that besieged the town – all of it was fuel for her inner adrenaline-junkie.

Every time she felt that familiar itch coming on, she forced herself to remember the anguish that Crane must be going through. It was bad enough that he had lost the only family he had left – as warped and fragmented as that family was. What made it infinitely worse was the fact he had driven the knife into his wife's heart. He had killed the woman for whom he had risked everything.

She sat at her desk, wading through stacks of reports on suspicious activities around Sleepy Hollow in the past few weeks. An unexplained electrical discharge at a substation on Fremont that threatened an inferno in the nearby forest park, in addition to several reported cases of telekinesis and a large number of petty crimes that had "a distinct odour of brimstone" as Crane would say.

She longed to drive out to the cabin and tell Crane to suit up and ready for battle, but something stopped her. The more time that went by, the more she became convinced that her feelings for him had changed forever. Looking back, she realised that she had been squashing her emotions since Katrina's return. She was awash with guilt – ashamed to think that she had once secretly considered Crane a burden.

Now all she could think was how she wanted him. More than that, she wanted to take care of him. She knew it was partially his grief that she recognised. As a fellow survivor of unbearable loss, she felt his pain almost like a physical wound. The sense of intimacy was so strong that she felt compelled to keep her distance. She could see the hurt and confusion in Crane's eyes when he saw her back away from him.

'Hey there, Abbie.' A soft voice interrupted her thoughts. She looked up and saw the familiar blue eyes and handsome face that made her heart leap.

'Joey!' She jumped up and flung her arms around the broad shoulders of Joe Corbin. 'What are you doing here?' she demanded once she deemed him properly hugged. 'You're supposed to be in Quantico!'

'Yeah, about that…' he scratched his head distractedly. His military buzz-cut had grown out and he now wore it in a messy style that suited his defined features. 'Can we go somewhere and talk – maybe grab a drink?'

Abbie grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair. 'I've got a better idea,' she said, finally biting the bullet.

Crane place cups of freshly-brewed coffee in front of Joe and Abbie before sitting at the table. Though both of his guests preferred their favourite caffeinated beverage in its natural state, he took his with a splash of milk.

'It is a pleasure to see you again, Joe, but I assume you intended more than just a social call?'

'You could say that,' Joe replied grimly. He regarded them both solemnly. 'I need your help.'

'Whatever you need,' Abbie said immediately.

'You guys went above and beyond the call last time, and I have to ask you to do the same again.'

Abbie looked at Crane for the first time, a sense of dread sinking in.

'The same?' Crane uttered with a tone of trepidation.

Joe looked as if getting the words out required a huge physical effort. 'It's back,' he finally said, the hint of a sob barely concealed. 'The wendigo – it's back.'

'How is that possible?' Crane asked. 'The shaman ritual worked – did it not?'

'It did, for months it worked. Until a week ago, a few of us were doing a five-mile run one morning before class. One of my friends, Rachel did a face-plant right in the dirt. It messed up her face really bad – blood everywhere. It wasn't until later that I started to feel it.'

'Oh God,' Abbie groaned. 'Tell me nobody got hurt.'

'Thankfully no – other than a deer. I woke in the middle of a forest next morning. Didn't remember anything, but there was a hollowed-out carcass not ten feet away from me. That's why I'm here – I didn't know who else I could turn to.'

Crane stood up and began pacing with determination. 'We must contact our Shawnee friends again.'

'No,' Abbie countered. 'There's something bigger going on here. The last two weeks I've seen dozens of unexplainable events like this all over Sleepy Hollow and beyond. It's weird – it's almost as if something is awakening supernatural powers lying dormant here.'

Joe looked somewhat relieved. 'Then there's a reason for this. It's not just me.'

'Yeah, it's not just you.' Abbie smiled affectionately. 'And I swear we'll do everything we can to help figure this out.'

'Thanks,' Joe stood, his military bearing still evident after all this time. 'Meantime, I want you to lock me in the Masons' cell like last time. There's no way I'm risking innocent people's lives.'

Abbie wanted nothing more than to go home and sink into a hot bath, but Crane's voice arrested her as they exited the tunnels.

'Lieutenant, may I ask if there is something amiss?'

She sighed and faced him. 'Nothing's amiss, Crane. We're cool – I'm just tired, that's all.'

'Are you sure? It seems that for some weeks, our interactions have been somewhat… strained. I wonder if I have done something to offend you.'

She turned to look at him, seeing for the first time the depth of the pain in his eyes. 'It's nothing you've done, Crane, honest. I just figured I'd give you your space, let you sort stuff out.' She winced at the half-truths she was uttering.

'"Stuff" meaning the deaths of my wife and son. Believe me, Lieutenant, I shall recover all the quicker once normality returns – though in our world normality is anything but.'

Abbie allowed herself a wan smile.

'Your friendship is invaluable to me, Abbie,' he said with a hint of emotion creeping into his voice. 'I beg your patience during this trying time.'

Reaching forward, Abbie touched the edge of his cuff in a gesture of solidarity. She felt ashamed for having neglected him all this time, and knew that she would have to push her feelings aside and be his friend and partner, just like always.

Her phone rang, making her start. 'Lieutenant Mills?'

'Hey Abbie, it's Donna.' Donna was the young dispatcher at the station. She was in awe of Abbie and secretly longed to be her best friend. 'Sheriff Reyes wants you back at the station. They've brought in a suspect in a murder – a twenty-year-old female. The victim was her roommate, but apparently there are weird aspects to the case so Reyes had me call you. After that cult a few months back, you're like the go-to gal for freaky stuff, right?'

'I'll be right over.' Abbie ended the call and looked Crane in the eye. 'Time to go to work.'