Ichabod is a shell of a man. Rarely eating, rarely sleeping, he is as single-minded as the berserkers they once faced, searching for the means to return his Lieutenant, his Abbie to him.
Jenny is nearly as bad, working tirelessly at his side. Joe makes them eat; he forces Jenny into her bed where he wraps himself around her to keep her there and keep her nightmares at bay while she fitfully sleeps. He can't do the same for Crane, but he would bet a large sum of money that when Ichabod Crane does return to Abbie's home to sleep, he is sleeping in her bed rather than his own. Oftentimes he just winds up crashing on a cot in the Archives.
Abbie told them to take care of each other, and they are, but only emotionally. Joe has shouldered the responsibility of seeing to their physical needs, since neither of them seems to remember or care about things like food or sleep.
The only thing outside of this mission that Ichabod has done is to complete his citizenship test, which he only did because Jenny and Joe had the presence of mind to make him keep his appointment. He breezed through the tests, having already read the necessary material, and didn't even bother with the rant he had been preparing about the historical inaccuracies in the text, the deplorable levels of bureaucracy through which he had to wade to complete this task, and how the founding fathers are surely spinning in their graves over this entire process.
Zoe didn't understand the sudden change in him. She knew he was close to Agent Mills, but didn't – couldn't – understand the depth of their relationship. She was shocked to see how broken he was, and tried to console him with soft words and affectionate gestures. He spurned her attention, rapidly losing patience with her attempts. They felt hollow. Platitudes meant to make him feel better only sharpened the sting of Abbie's absence until he finally exploded at the hapless young woman. After that, their relationship changed to a detached professional acquaintance, and once he gained his citizenship, she congratulated him with a handshake and wished him luck.
He never heard from her after that.
He hardly noticed her absence.
The old Ichabod Crane would have felt guilty about it. The old Ichabod Crane would have apologized to Zoe, likely with some sort of grand gesture. The old Ichabod Crane might have continued their friendship to see if it would indeed have evolved into something more.
The old Ichabod Crane disappeared when Abbie did.
The new Ichabod Crane retreated further into himself, burying himself in research and failed attempts at breaking through to the underworld. He was willing to try anything – anything – no matter how dangerous if it meant getting his Lieutenant back.
Agent Reynolds came around with Questions. Questions they could not – or would not – answer. Jenny and Crane were adamant Abbie was still alive, so Reynolds dispatched search parties. Looked for clues, leads, anything that might lead them to Abbie's location.
Jenny and Crane knew the search parties would yield nothing, but they didn't deter him because it kept him out of their way for the most part. They were very careful with the information they gave so the FBI wouldn't encounter the crypt containing Pandora's tree. That would only lead to more questions.
The most curious thing was Agent Reynolds seemed almost as desperate to have her back as they were, which immediately made both of them very suspicious.
"He still has feelings for her," Crane had snarled one evening in the Archives, spitting the word "feelings" like it was poison as he pored over Orpheus and Eurydice. Again. This time he was reading it in Greek, looking for clues within its words.
"Maybe, but I think there's something more there. He seems scared, but not for her. For himself," Jenny countered. "I think he was planning something – and not in a romantic way," she clarified, seeing Crane look up at her with his eyebrows at his hairline, "but… I don't know. Like someone higher up than him is pulling his strings. I just have a weird feeling about that guy."
"Indeed," Crane muttered. Then he thoughtfully nodded, knowing Jenny's instincts in this area are often frighteningly accurate.
xXx
A month passes. A month of research and digging and a couple of random, easily dispatched demons. Pandora and her husband seem to have mostly retreated for the time being. It makes things easier, but keeps Crane, Jenny, and Joe on edge because they are just waiting for their foes to make their Big Move and they want Abbie with them when it happens.
One night, Crane goes to Pandora's lair with his axe and tries to hack his way into the tree. Jenny and Joe find him the next morning, bandage his hands, and put him to bed.
Another night, Jenny slips out with Grace Dixon's journal and Katrina's grimoire and recites spells at the tree until she is hoarse. Crane and Joe find her the next morning, give her tea with honey, and put her to bed.
Joe hangs on as best he can. He is desperate to have Abbie back as well, but also knows he is the only one who has mostly kept his head through all of this. But he does have a few moments where he allows himself to fall apart, quietly and alone, wanting to remain strong for Jenny. Crane finds him in such a state once, and the two of them get drunk until they pass out on the floor of the Archives. Jenny finds them the next morning, but doesn't say a word about it. She merely cleans up the bottles and quietly works until they wake up.
One month without Abbie feels like an eternity. Jenny and Crane cry on each other's shoulders countless times, often brought on by frustration and exhaustion. Crane tells Jenny he feels she is truly his sister, and Jenny tearfully returns the sentiment.
Then, one evening at 11:24 p.m., Jenny's phone rings. Jenny screams and falls out of her chair, bruising her hip on the hard floor of the Archives. It's Abbie's ring tone, Beyoncé's "Flawless". She leaps to her feet, ignoring the pain, and swipes a trembling finger across her screen.
"…H-hello?" She answers cautiously, just in case it isn't her sister.
"Jenny…" Abbie's voice is weak, but definitely hers.
Jenny's eyes widen and she looks across at Crane. His expression mirrors hers, and he looks rather unsteady. "ABBIE! Where are you?" she yells into the phone, tears streaming from her eyes.
There is a scrape, a clatter, and a soft thump as Crane faints, knocking over a chair as he collapses to the floor like a marionette whose strings have been cut. Joe runs over to him, but his eyes are mostly on Jenny.
"I'm not sure… in the forest…" Abbie answers. "Can you track the GPS in my phone?"
"Yes, yes, of course… Abbie, oh my God…"
"Just come get me… bring Crane," she says.
"You think he'd let me not bring him?" Jenny says with a watery laugh. "Are you… are you… all right?" she asks, looking across the table at a very pale Crane, who is now conscious and seated in a chair.
Abbie laughs a little. "You're really asking if I'm still me," she says. "I don't know if you'll believe me, but I am."
"I believe you," Jenny says. "I have to."
"I'm cold," Abbie responds.
"We're on our way."
They drive like the very hounds of hell are on their tails. Crane wanted to drive, but Jenny told him no, not after he just passed out, and proceeded to drive with very little regard for the posted speed limit, easily following Crane's directions as he gave them.
Crane is still visibly shaken, his fingers twitching madly, and when he manages to still them, they tremble. All he can hear is her name in his head, over and over, like a mantra.
Abbie. Abbie. Abbie.
He has never wanted something more in his life than to see her face, hear her voice, to just be near her again. Even if she suddenly hates him, she is back. She is here.
"Turn here! Here!" he shouts.
"There's no road!" Jenny says, squealing to a stop, pulling her truck to the shoulder. The three of them tumble out and begin walking, flashlights in hand. Jenny has a blanket. Crane has a thermos of coffee. Joe has his medical bag.
They don't yell her name, not knowing what else they might encounter in the forest. Best not to draw any more attention than necessary. Their feet crunch on the frozen ground, making prints in the dusting of snow over the crispy leaves and undergrowth. Crane leads the way, head bent over his phone, following the signal leading them to Abbie. He prays it is truly her. He prays that this isn't some trickery from Pandora and The Hidden One. He prays she is whole and uninjured and truly herself.
"How much further?" Jenny asks, her quiet voice edged with desperation.
Then they hear it.
"Jenny… Crane… Joe…"
Abbie's voice. They break into a run and find her sitting against a large tree. She appears to be in one piece, but she is shivering. When she left, it was during an unseasonably warm November, and now her leather jacket is no longer adequate protection against the cold.
"Abbie!" Jenny gasps, dropping next to her and pulling her into a tight hug, never wanting to let go. "Oh, God, Abbie… what were you thinking? Why did you do that?"
"It had to be done," is all Abbie says. She leans back and looks at her sister. There are tears streaming down her face and Abbie realizes her own cheeks are wet as well. They wipe each other's tears, and Jenny wraps the blanket around her sister.
"Here," she says. "We didn't stop at your house to get you a coat or anything. This was in my truck."
"Thanks," Abbie says. She looks up at Joe, lingering nearby. "Joe," she smiles.
"Abbie," Joe kneels down and hugs her. "Are you all right?" he asks, looking her over as best he can by flashlight, checking for injuries.
"I think so. I don't remember getting hurt in any way," she says. "I'm hungry though."
Joe chuckles and digs into his bag. "Here," he hands her a bottle of Gatorade. "You're probably dehydrated. Best I can do right now."
"Thank you," she says, opens the bottle and takes a long drink. When she lowers the bottle, she sees Crane hovering about six feet away. "Crane," she whispers.
"Abbie." His voice is tight and hoarse as he croaks out her name. He takes a tentative step closer, suddenly hesitant in the face of being reunited with her. He is too overwhelmed. His limbs feel like they are filled with lead, but he isn't sure if they will support him if he moves.
When he sees Abbie pass her Gatorade bottle back to Joe and begin struggling to stand, her uncharacteristic vulnerability causes Crane's feet to remember how to move and he runs towards her, absently passing the thermos of coffee to Jenny before his long arms reach out and pull Abbie to her feet.
She tumbles into him and he staggers back a few steps as they find their way into a desperate hug. Her arms are around his neck, holding tightly, her feet dangling near his shins.
He feels her body trembling as he holds her. At least he thinks it's her; it is quite possible that he is shaking as well, overcome with joy at being reunited with her. His Lieutenant. He's not sure if he's laughing or crying or a bizarre combination of both, but he is indeed trembling and his eyes feel wet.
He adjusts his hold, shifting her a bit higher, and his lips are suddenly on hers, kissing her with a passionate ferocity that surprises them both. When she kisses him back, matching his intensity with her own, he clutches her more tightly, pulling her closer until he feels her legs wrap around his waist, just to hold on.
"Abbie," he breathes her name between kisses. "Abbie. Abbie." He can't stop saying her name. He can't stop kissing her. He can't stop the tears pouring from his eyes. They roll down and mingle with hers, and the only reason they stop kissing is because their lips are sliding messily against each other, salty and wet. "You have returned to me."
She slowly slides down until her feet hit the ground again. "Yeah," she replies. "I have. Apparently, I'm needed here."
"Indeed you are," he agrees.
Jenny clears her throat behind them. She's not surprised at their actions at all, but she is eager to leave the forest. "Much as I love the woods at night, I'd really like to get the hell out of here," she says.
"Let's get you some food and a bed," Joe agrees. "We can wait till tomorrow to hear about what happened to you."
Crane opens his mouth as if to protest, but decides against it, as he knows Joe is correct. He bends down to retrieve the fallen thermos, takes Abbie's hand, and leads the way back to the car.
Jenny catches up to them and drapes the blanket over Abbie again before falling in step beside her. Abbie offers her sister her other hand, and Jenny gratefully takes it.
In the car Jenny and Abbie sit in the back, huddled together, talking quietly. They even sing together a little. Crane wistfully smiles when he hears the chorus of "You Are My Sunshine," remembering the significance of that song.
Joe is at the wheel this time, (Crane was declared Still Unfit to Drive) and pulls through the Taco Bell drive-thru because it is the only place open. Then he heads for Abbie's house while she scarfs down three chicken soft tacos in the back seat.
"Call me when you get up tomorrow," Jenny says. "Like, the second you wake up. We'll bring over some breakfast."
"Okay. Love you, Jenny," Abbie says, hugging her sister once more. Jenny replies in kind, then reluctantly climbs into the front seat before Joe drives off.
"I have kept the house tidy, as you prefer it," Crane says, escorting her up the stairs. "Your laundry is clean, and I have—"
"Crane," she interrupts, waiting while he opens the door. "Thank you, but it doesn't matter right now. All I want is a hot shower and my bed."
The door closes with a soft click behind them. "I have been sleeping in your bed," he quietly admits.
She looks up at him, gives him a sad smile, and reaches up to lay her hand on the side of his face. He leans into her touch, and she brings her other hand up, holding his face as she lifts up on tiptoe to place a small kiss on his lips. "I'm sorry," she says.
Then she turns and heads for the bathroom and a shower.
Crane changes into his sleepwear and prepares himself for bed, then waits while she showers. She takes so long she drains the tank of the water heater, and he does not blame her one bit. She emerges, clean and tired, wearing flannel pants and a soft t-shirt.
When she finds him waiting in her bedroom she says nothing. She expected him to be there. She knows he won't sleep because he's afraid he'll wake up and she will be gone again.
She sits on the bed and pats the mattress next to her.
"I merely wish for the reassurance of your presence," he explains, sitting.
"I understand," she replies. "I kind of want the reassurance of yours, too."
"Kind of?" he asks, smiling for the first time.
"Okay, more than kind of," she admits, smiling back. It feels strange to smile. Like she's almost forgotten how. "Come on," she says, standing and flipping the covers back.
She climbs in and he slides in beside her. They immediately meet in the middle, Crane wrapping her in his embrace and placing a kiss on her forehead.
"I love you, Abbie," he whispers into the darkness.
"I know," she answers, snuggling closer.
He is not stung that she didn't reply in kind. He didn't expect her to do so. "I regret not telling you sooner. I suspect your actions would have remained unchanged by this knowledge, but it pained me to think you had possibly gone to your death without knowing."
"You knew I wasn't dead," she replies after a moment.
"I did. I refused to believe otherwise. But you are avoiding my point."
"Yeah, I am." Her voice is soft and sleepy. "I'm tired, Baby. I promise we'll talk about this tomorrow, but right now, I just want to sleep."
Baby. His heart leaps, encouraged by the endearment, even if it just slipped out. "Of course. Forgive me," he whispers, kissing her forehead again. He says nothing more, lying awake until her body relaxes and her breathing grows slow and even. Only then, when he is certain she will not turn to vapor in his arms, does he allow himself to drift off as well.