CH 1: A Minor Hiccup

"How many?"

"Will, you can't go in there – we're monitoring the activity from around front, and he's got his daughter in a headlock."

Slowly lowering his weapon, Will brought his walkie talkie to his lips and said, "There's an entrance out here, Jack – I'm going to take it."

"Will, you can't. You're risking everyone involved!"

Dropping his communication device, Will crept through the back door as Jack Crawford continued negotiating out front. As he slunk through the halls, he could hear the older man's deep, commanding voice through the megaphone. Hobbs was distracted – he was surrounded. There was no way he would be able to run.

From this vantage point, Will could hear the sound of soft sobbing. With one arm around her waist and the other holding a knife to her throat, Hobbs continued to face the front door while his daughter struggled vainly. Will was approaching to their left, able to see their shifting profiles as Hobbs continued to shout out negations. Jack was trying to solve this without any violence, but it clearly wasn't working.

Abigail's eyes slid toward Will then, wide and blue and all encompassing. He'd never seen such pure terror before. Will was just a damn freak wrangled into the FBI by force, not someone who actually had the stomach for this sort of thing. Admittedly, he had a sound mind and a good head for problem-solving, and yet everything suddenly seemed to be tangling up in his thoughts. Unfortunately, Hobbs chose that moment to look toward him.

Panicked, Will raised his weapon and shouted, "Garrett Jacob Hobbs, this is the FBI! Lower your weapon – we've got you surrounded!"

Naturally, Hobbs did not lower his weapon, and instead turned it on the very girl Will was trying to protect. As Hobbs hacked away at Abigail's windpipe, Will managed to empty two chambers – one bullet went into Hobbs' shoulder, and the other into his side. He collapsed and Abigail went sprawling across the floor.

Wheezing, the girl feebly reached for her neck just as Will dropped down to her side, his hands applying pressure to the gushing wound. In her eyes, he could see his own panicked reflection gazing back at him, trembling and flustered just as she weakly pointed over his shoulder. It was too late.

Hobbs grabbed Will and wrenched him away from Abigail, leaving her unprotected as the two began grappling on the floor. As Hobbs struck him across the jaw, Will could hear the girl gasping – struggling for breath – alongside them.

Will reached for his weapon, but the pop pop pop of gunfire froze him up on the spot, stunned as Hobbs collapsed on top of him. Overhead, Jack stood in the doorway with Zeller at his side.

"Christ, Will, I told you not to come in here!" Jack seethed. Attention diverting toward Abigail, he quickly pocketed his gun and rushed to the fallen girl. But as he slipped his hands over her slashed throat, he discovered that she was unresponsive. "Goddammit..."

"What?" Will asked, fearful as Zeller helped him out from underneath Hobbs. "She can't be-"

"Dead? 'fraid so, Graham. We lost the whole lot of 'em today."

"But it doesn't have to be-"

"No," Jack cut in, pointing a finger. "You're not wasting your gift on this girl. The last time you went over 60 seconds, you killed off a very prominent member of society. Besides…" He looked down at Abigail regretfully. "This poor girl's death isn't a mystery. We know how she got to be in this predicament."

Will tensed his fists, swallowing sharply. "Should we call it in?"

"There's an ambulance out front," Zeller said.

Nodding, Jack added, "I'll just alert them that instead, we're going to need a coroner."

Will felt sick. When he'd volunteered to be on the field that day, this was not the type of experience he had envisioned. Heroics and accolades, perhaps, but instead, he'd gotten this girl – this young, vibrant girl – killed.

"Pull yourself together," Jack told him, "and then report to the car. You're going to have to give a detailed account of what happened here."

Pale and practically unseeing, Will nodded. He needed to speak with Beverly Katz… She would know what to do.

"Why her? Why this girl?"

"I dunno, I just-"

"Look, Will, I know you feel guilty, but bringing someone who's supposed to be dead back to life just to make yourself feel better is not the answer."

Will watched Beverly with injured, shadowed eyes, his hands flexing as she hovered over the clothing from the De Salmo case. With her forceps in hand, she began inspecting the garments for stray fibers.

"I'll admit it sounds a bit unorthodox, but-"

"What would you do with her, Will? You don't even know this girl, for one, and two, there will be a demand for the body. Her death has been recorded, and her mother will wish to bury her."

"Which is where you come in," Will said. "If you could just draw up an order to get the body in our custody, we could create some fake documentation saying she was cremated."

"That's a federal offense and immoral."

"And what we're doing isn't? I'm pretty sure it's unethical to break into tombs to solve cold cases."

"That is completely different."

"Is it?" Sighing, Will moved in closer. "I just want to help this girl, Beverly…to give her the chance at life she never had growing up. Is that really so horrible?"

"Well-"

"She never went to prom, or got to have any real friends, or even truly live because of fear. I want to give her back what was stolen from her."

Twisting her mouth, Beverly set down her forceps with a sigh. "Fine," she agreed, "but just this once. I swear to God, Graham, if this turns into a regular occurrence with you…"

"It won't," Will quickly assured her. "Just…one more thing."

"What?"

"I'm going to need your fiancé to sew her up and give her a blood transfusion."

"Are you kidding me? Charlie has no idea about any of this!"

Will winced, nodding. "I know, but…are you capable of doing these things on your own?"

"I am. It's not a medically advanced procedure, and I can falsify some of Charlie's documents to get the blood." Her eyes narrowed. "You owe me big time for this. You know that, right?"

"No argument there," Will agreed. "A steak dinner, maybe?"

"More like ten, but it's a start." Taking off her gloves with a snap, Beverly said, "Meet me down in the morgue in about ten hours. It'll take at least that long to get all this documentation and supplies together."

"Deal. Oh, and Beverly?"

"Yeah?"

"You're the best."

With a grin, she gave him a cheeky, "I know," before heading for the exit.

Will was nervous. In most cases of reanimation, he was relatively subdued. After a negative existence of having this gift of returning life to the dead, it was very difficult to be fazed. But now, as he regarded Abigail Hobbs' pale, unmoving body, he found himself wondering just how she would respond to this second chance. It wasn't that he feared she would disapprove – no, how could she? – he simply just didn't know how to care for another person other than himself. All his life, he had been alone. The uniqueness of his gift had led Will to a life of intentional solitude. But as he gazed down at this girl, he knew he wanted to give all of that up, if only to see the light return to her eyes – a light that may have otherwise never even existed.

"Well?" Beverly asked. "Are you going to get to it, or what?"

"Oh, uh…yes. Sorry." Releasing an even breath, Will hovered his hand over Abigail with a moment of uncertainty. A touch to her face seemed far too intimate, a tap to the shoulder too cold and informal, so by instinct, he reached for her freshly stitched throat… The one part of her he had failed to save.

With his fingers gliding over the uneven mark, Will jerked back as Abigail took in a large, startled breath.

"Wh-what?" she choked, looking in between both Will and Beverly with large, panicked eyes. Her voice was hoarse from both misuse and her injury. "Where am I?"

"A morgue in the Quantico branch of the FBI," Beverly informed her. "You and your father were in an accident of sorts."

Shakily, Abigail attempted to sit up, but when she realized she was only wearing a white sheet, she flushed and clutched at the thin material. "What are you saying? What's going on? Why am I naked in a morgue?"

"W-well, uh…" Will cleared his throat, keeping his distance in case she decided to lash out. "You kind of just…"

"You died," Beverly cut in. "But it's okay, 'cause Special Agent Will Graham brought you back, and as soon as we get you some clothes, you can move on, start over, and live a real life."

"But my mom…?"

"She can't know you're alive," Will said. "I know it's hard, but you're not allowed to contact anyone from your past. As far as they're concerned, you're gone."

Abigail blinked, far too overwhelmed to properly process everything. "But…where will I go?"

"I thought maybe you could stay with me," Will offered. "I know we've only just met, but I know how to keep you safe."

Abigail swallowed. "You killed my dad."

"What? No, I-"

"You shot him."

"I incapacitated him, yes, but he was ultimately slain by another agent. Abigail, please try and understand… I'm just trying to help," Will said. "I want to help you."

"I don't want your help," she seethed. "You assumed I wanted to be brought back, but I don't. I have nothing…" Looking to Beverly, she pleaded, "Get me some clothes and take me to my mom."

"Look, kid-"

"Please."

Torn, Beverly glanced at Will before turning to make her leave. He didn't bother to stop her. Perhaps while she was gone, he could talk some sense into Abigail. When they were alone, Will grimly began to pace.

"Will you help me down?"

He abruptly stopped his nervous movements, sparing Abigail a startled glance. "I can't…"

"Pushy and rude? Wow, just my luck," Abigail muttered. Holding tightly to her sheet, she grumbled a terse, "Fine, I'll do it myself," before sliding off the metal table.

Will winced. "No, no, it's not that I don't want to, I literally can't."

"Why not?"

"I can't touch you, or else…" He gestured uncomfortably between them. "…or else you'll die a second time, and never be able to come back."

Abigail's mouth pursed. "And does that apply to everyone and myself, or just you and me?"

"Just us."

"Hmm. Doesn't sound like this'll be much of a problem then."

Will moved to respond, but Beverly chose that moment to burst through the double doors.

"Good going, Graham!" she hissed. "You know that little caveat of yours?"

Anxiously, his eyes flickered toward Abigail.

"Yeah. The girl's mom was here to give us a statement, and now she's dead!"

"W-what?" Staggering a moment, Abigail turned her fearful eyes to Will. "What's she talking about? What caveat?"

Will swallowed. "W-well, um…any time I bring someone back, someone else has to die – a life for a life."

"And you chose my mom?"

"No, no, it's a random selec-"

"You son of a bitch!" Charging him, Abigail immediately found herself apprehended by Beverly, a scream catching in her throat as she clawed at the air. "How could you do this to me? Now I really do have nothing!"

"I-I didn't mean…"

"C'mon, Abigail," Beverly cajoled. "I can take you back to my apartment for a while, okay? It'll give us some time to figure things out. In the meantime, here's some clothes, as promised." With a gentle nudge, she urged, "Go out to the bathrooms and I'll meet up with you when you're finished. Just give me a couple minutes, okay?"

After Abigail left the room, Will immediately moved to speak on his behalf, but Beverly held up a hand. "No," she told him, "I'm not letting her go with you. She just lost her parents, and in essence, herself in one day, so I really don't think it's wise to leave you two alone. At least not yet."

"You're probably right," Will agreed. "I just thought-"

"No, you didn't think, and that's the problem. Charlie's out of town all week, so I can keep her 'til then – or hopefully, 'til she cools off and can accept the idea of staying with you."

"Thanks, Beverly."

She nodded. "In the meantime, you should probably work out how you're going to tell Jack. He's already suspicious thanks to Mrs. Hobbs."

Will exhaled. "Right. Um…same time tomorrow?"

She huffed, but nodded as she headed off for the bathrooms. So far, this was not how Will had envisioned his day going.

A/N: Honestly, I've been sitting on this idea for months now (thanks to Tumblr user lilypottering), and I figured it wouldn't be worth it since the show's over and fanfiction seems to be on the decline. But the idea just kept badgering me and badgering me, and then one night, I ended up writing an entire chapter, and here we are! Namely because I just could not believe that nobody had ever written a Pushing Daisies AU bringing Abigail back to life.

In this particular story, the circumstances are entirely different, and much closer to book canon. I figured it would help take out some of the show complications of the Will/Abigail dynamic, because in the book, they were on friendly terms. I admittedly did throw a wrench in that in this chapter, but hey, what's a story without a little bit of dissent? ;) That basically means that Abigail did not help her father, and that Will is only guilty of shooting Hobbs (so no paternal antagonizing). So far, not much has been revealed about Will's gift, other than the basics of how it works. More on that will come in later chapters.

Anyway, I really love the idea of bringing Abigail back (even though I chose Apéritif instead of Mizumono, because again, less complications). Regardless, I hope you enjoy! And hopefully I can get more written soon, though significant interest naturally helps that along. :)