A/N: Thank you all so much for your kind reviews. They really make my day, like you don't even know. Here's the next installment. This one is a little more angsty and is set after 1x06 The Sin Eater. Please don't be afraid to tell me if you think I'm doing characterization wrong or this one bit of description didn't work. I read all reviews :) I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!
Disclaimer: All characters and everything related to Sleepy Hollow belong to Fox and the show's creators.
Abbie put the car in park and opened her door before Crane even had the chance to blink. let alone have him try and open it for her. It was one of the few old-fashioned, gentlemanly things she usually let Crane do. Usually.
Not now. Now she strode to the back of the SUV and heaved open the hatch, riffling through until she found her duffle bag of emergency overnight stuff. Always prepared, like a damn boyscout.
Crane was waiting by his car door, obviously too stunned by her ice-cold demeanor. The Lieutenant usually let him open the door for her. She usually smiled and laughed as he almost always got the seat belt buckle caught in the door. Usually came in for a cup of tea or coffee or simply to watch a different movie because as she had so calmly explained Crane you need a damned crash course on pop culture, but let's just marathon the Pirates of the Caribbean to start. Never was she so agitated. Movements jerky and sharp like staccato piano notes.
"Miss Mills, I am confused-" he began, but when she looped around him, she could see that he knew something was up.
Good. This was no time for usual. Not when Crane was being so reckless, so stupid, so selfish. No, not selfish. The idiotic bastard was unselfish to a fault, when he considered-when he didn't consider...well, Abbie needed to talk to him, and since she couldn't form words right now, she would just wait by his side until she could.
Abbie's blocky heels clicked against the worn wood of the cabin's porch and the door didn't even creak when she unlocked it and stepped inside. She didn't even hold the door open for him. Why should she spare him any courtesy when he couldn't do the same for her?
"Miss Mills,what is that bag for?" Crane tried again, getting a whole statement out this time.
Again, she ignored him. Abbie wasn't sure she wouldn't just start screaming or sobbing-or both-if she opened her mouth right now. Better not risk it. She got out the classical teapot Crane has insisted on getting.
I refuse to drink this dishwater that passes for tea, he had said, I will require a proper teapot, with proper looseleaf, if you please. His stupid British tea with its stupid looseleaf and idiotic strainer that tasted so stupid good. It almost made her angrier, remembering when he actually cared about something relating to himself.
Crane stood awkwardly to the side, not knowing what to do with himself. Abbie didn't care. She just needed something in her hands, so she wouldn't strangle him. The step stool she had bought to help her reach the upper cabinets he so enjoyed taking advantage of just wasn't unfolding correctly, and she nearly pinched her finger off when it finally did snap open.
When she turned to climb the steps, she had the tea canister shoved into her face.
"Here, Miss Mills, I retrieved it for you," Ichabod said, looking so much like a puppy dog that didn't know why it was being punished. He knew damn well what he did. Abbie just grunted instead of saying thanks, and measured out three teaspoons into the teakettle.
One for you, one for myself, and one for the pot, Ichabod had explained the first time he showed her how to make proper English tea. He had seemed so pleased, so happy to be sharing that experience with her.
Abbie turned from the teapot, letting it steep.
"Miss Mills, please explain to me what you brought that bag in here for," Crane said, standing directly in front of her so she couldn't step to the side and not respond, again.
"I'm staying the night," Abbie said, looking up into his eyes.
"But that wouldn't be proper," Crane said, stepping back. As if impropriety was the one demon he actually cared about.
"Well I don't trust you to be alone right now, so the nightwatch it is for me-" She held up her finger when she saw his mouth opening. "No if's, and's, or but's about it Crane. I'm staying, so just keep your mouth shut."
Abbie set her bag over by the foot of the couch, moving pillows off to the side before going to Crane's-Corbin's-linen cabinet and grabbing a blanket. When she came back to the living room, Crane had already poured their tea and prepared it just the way she liked it, a splash of cream one sugar. Why did he have to keep being so nice? Couldn't he be mean, be rude, ungentlemanly just once? Maybe get pissed back when she was so obviously pissed at him. But no, he sat stiff and still on the couch, preparing for the storm that would inevitably hit. Abbie only got angrier.
"Miss Mills, please, sit. Drink some tea," Ichabod said, moving over to the opposite arm of the couch. She dumped the old patchwork quilt unceremoniously on the middle cushion.
"Don't tell me what to do, Crane," Abbie said, trying to figure out the best way to say what was on her mind.
"I was simply thinking of you, Lieutenant. You look like you could use some tea to calm you down," he said, holding up her teacup. There was hope in his eyes that she would just let this go, that she would accept the teacup, put her feet up and they would start back up on the pop culture lesson. Like usual.
Abbie took the cup and saucer with shaking hands before setting them aside.
"How about once, you think about yourself, Crane," Abbie said as slowly and calmly as she could, hands fisted at her sides.
"Pardon me?"
"That stunt you pulled tonight, Crane. Not okay," Abbie said, drawing herself as tall as she could, trying to look intimidating and angry as was possible for a five-one woman.
"I understand you're upset, Lieutenant, but everything's fine now. I'm alright," Crane said, standing too, as if to show that everything was working properly. Without even meaning to, he towered over her, making her feel inferior, small, weak.
"Fine? Everything's fine? Everything sure as hell is not fine, Crane. You tried to kill yourself tonight, and you're trying to say that since it didn't work, that you walked out of that place alive, after you'd been kidnapped, that everything is fine?" Abbie was yelling now and she didn't even care. How dare he try and brush it off as if it were nothing, as if one hug would make everything all better.
"It didn't work, Miss Mills, and that's the important thing. Mr. Parrish got there in time. I'm alive. Not 'kidnapped',and certainly not dead," he tried again.
"If you had your way, you would be," Abbie said. "You would be dead and I would be left all alone again because you can't for one second think about what you dying would do to the plan, to-"
Ichabod's temper finally flared. "If I were dead, Lieutenant Mills, then so would the Horseman of Death. I didn't swallow that poison for the enjoyment, there was a purpose."
"You dying is not your purpose here, in this time! If dying was what you were meant to do, then the big man upstairs would've let you die on that battlefield two centuries ago! Your purpose is here, in the now. Do you know what you dying out of a false sense of responsibility would do to the plan? Do to me?" Abbie yelled, not realizing until it was too late what she had let slip.
Ichabod's face immediately softened, "Oh, Miss Mills. I'm sure you would feel a sense of loss, but you could've carried on without me."
"Carried on alone, you mean?" Abbie said, fear and adrenaline still choking her throat.
"Yes," Crane said, clenching and unclenching his fists at his side. "Alone, but you could do it alone, Miss Mills. I have every faith in your capability."
"My capability?" Abbie sputtered, and then Ichabod silenced her with a flash of his blue eyes.
"I don't think it's me, you're angry at Miss Mills. I know my fellow brothers have angered you by taking me, but-"
"Every single person I have ever cared about has left me, Crane. My mom, my dad, Jenny, Corbin, Andy. Every single one. Then you have the nerve to try and kill yourself and leave me here alone, again. And you think I'm angry at the workload? At you silly secret society? No, I'm pissed at you, because I thought you of all people would know how important it is for us to stick together, so I don't have to do anything alone again," Abbie said, the dam finally breaking, and she could feel her voice cracking with every word, but she swallowed back tears. Crying once in a day was enough for her.
"Miss Mills, I deeply apologize. I wasn't thinking-"
"You weren't," Abbie said, heaving a sigh. "But just promise me, promise that you won't try that ever again, okay? Never. We're a team, we make those big decisions together."
"I promise," Ichabod said, then she was wrapped in his strong arms for the second time that day. "I promise I will never leave you alone and broken. I will forever be by your side, Abbie."
Abbie laughed and choked back a sob, hugging him back fiercely. Her anger had passed, and now she was just tired.
"This doesn't get you out of having a bodyguard tonight," Abbie said, breathing in his scent of pine trees and old paper.
"I simply wouldn't dream of it," Ichabod said, pulling back and giving her a smile that she finally returned. "Now let's drink our tea before it gets cold, and we can watch that Terrance Potter?"
Abbie chuckled and wiped the corners of her eyes. "Harry Potter, and yeah. Sorcerer's Stone is up first."
She changed quickly into her long-sleeve button up pajamas, printed with little horses and horseshoes she got on sale at Macy's a few Christmases back.
"You like horses, Miss Mills?" Ichabod said when he saw her return and again offered her the cup of tea. This time she actually drank it.
"As much as anyone else I guess, why?"
"I will take you riding, then," Ichabod said. "I will finally be able to teach you something."
"Alright, Crane. But now, let's get ready for some magic." Abbie hit play, and settled back into the couch.
She had barely seen Quirrel and Snape arguing before she began to fall asleep.
Hours later, she woke to the dawn light, wrapped in the quilt, her head nestled on Crane's shoulder. His head rested atop hers.
Abbie could tell he was awake when he shifted minutely beneath her.
"Why didn't you go to your bed?" Abbie said, slurring her words a little with a yawn and sat up.
Ichabod looked her in the eyes and gave a small grin. "Did I not promise a few hours ago to never leave your side?" He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
She felt warm all over, and it wasn't the quilt. When Crane took her hand, and rubbed circles on the back, Abbie knew she never would be left alone again.
Thanks again for all the likes and favorites, and please review!
Bliss
