A/N: Trying to fix this finale because nothing is okay and everything hurts. This is a two-parter.

She stands and takes a few steps away from him. He begins to panic, even this absence too sharp, too painful.

Then she turns, closed fist extended.

He rises, but instead of bumping his fist against hers, he gently takes it between his two hands, marveling how there is not enough of her tiny fist to fill his large mitts. He lifts it to his lips, and bestows a kiss on her knuckles for far longer than would ever be considered proper.

"My, my..." she says, false bravado firmly intact. "Be still, my beating heart."

He moves her hand, holding it to his cheek and closing his eyes as though her touch both soothes and burns him.

But when she gently tries to pull away, he tugs until she is in his arms.

"Crane," she says, trying to make it sound like a warning, but her voice wavers.

"They were right, you know. Betsy. Pandora," he murmurs, not sure if Abbie would know about Pandora's words or not, but he doesn't much care at the moment.

"I know," she whispers, staring up at him with her beautiful dark eyes. "I've known since I came back."

"Abbie," he says, his voice thick, "before I go... please..." He lets the question float, hanging in the mere inches of space that separate them.

She smiles, reaches up, and cups his cheeks, her small, strong hands framing his face, her fingers in his beard for the last time.

It is all the answer he needs, and he drops his head to hers, kissing her with heartbreaking softness and breathtaking languor.

When he reluctantly lifts his head, there are tears in both their eyes.

"My heart will forever belong to you, my lieutenant. My Abbie," he murmurs, kissing her forehead.

"You'll find me again. My soul is out there somewhere," she whispers, lowering her hands. She knows she has to go. She wants to go. To rest. She wants to, yet she doesn't want to.

"She won't be you," he insists in a low voice, squeezing his eyes closed, unwilling to face reality. "She may have your essence, but she won't be this you. Never you."

Her lips brushing against his causes his eyes to open again. "We will be together again one day, Ichabod. As us. Just... not right now, okay? It's not your time yet."

He clasps their joined hands against his chest and nods, strengthened by her words, by her promise that he will be able to join her, Grace Abigail Mills, wherever she is going, some day. That promise is enough to keep him surviving until that time comes.

"Until that time, my lieutenant, my treasure," he softly intones, reluctantly releasing her to step back and grant her one final bow, one final gesture to show her she is, and always has been, ruler of his heart.

"I'll be waiting for you, Captain," she replies.

When he stands again, she is gone. He closes his eyes, and whispers, "I love you, Grace Abigail Mills." He was never brave enough to say the words aloud, even to himself, but they come spilling out of him now.

An unlikely breeze blows, and he closes his eyes, a tear escaping as the soft, jasmine-scented air caresses his face.