She's falling, emotionless, declining into a everlasting pit of nothing. Her heart beating, chaos, her ears ringing, that memory of the piper crossing across her thoughts.

She's scared, no terrified, but his voice reassures her brings her back. She follows it, that voice, into the light, into her own being. He reminds her that she is enough. That by relying in them, her own light, this battle could be won. She had to believe in herself in them together as a whole, as two witnesses. The big man upstairs didn't make mistakes and placing them together, dealing with this burden as one, did make the load easier to bare.

She awakes breathing, sweat ridden, little tendrils of hair clinging to the side of her face. She should be use to dreaming of darkness, but, as hard as she pretends to be she could never get used to it. You got use to school, or got use to working, this is something that would take much more practice.

She wipes her bits of hair out of her face sighing. She had fallen asleep on Crane's couch. Something that's become more habit, as if she truly does belong here.

She checks her phone that is lying on the small table by her. She flips it open disregarding the text from her sister Jenny, explaining how she should learn to text back. Sometimes all she wanted was to be alone to take the time to explain her feelings and thoughts. In these moments she didn't want to talk to anyone because for so long she had taken care of herself.

Crane had found her in one of those moments. She was in the bathroom, door closed, finally alone sobbing by the bathroom door. Tears streaming down her face like the rainfall prickling the window seal. It was after her sister was possessed by that coin. It was after she found out her mother died for their safety, it was a mix of all those emotions combined and she lost it. She fell down to the bathroom floor pulling her legs up to her chest and sobbed. She burrowed her face on her knees and her pants collected her tears staining the fabric.

Crane heard her and without propriety, without knocking, he barged in kneeling beside her. For a moment he is quiet contemplating if he should touch her, comfort her, or leave her be. For him just being by her side was enough for her. It showed her that he cared, cared more than anyone else had. Despite his teachings or his knowledge from his time he softly, delicately, smoothed his hand against her hair. It was the simplest of gestures but it helped so much. More than she could begin to explain.

"Grace Abigail Mills, understand you are not alone in this."

She smiles as she thinks about him saying her name. She could count on one finger how many times he had said her name, and each time seemed to give her butterflies. It's ridiculous really, how something spoken everyday could be so beautiful when he says it. Maybe it's because it's so sacred to him as if speaking her name is like poetry, or kissing intimately, reserved for those who are worthy.

She must be worthy...

She sits up on the couch pushing the small blanket off of herself. He must have placed it on her body before she fell asleep. The small fire is crackling in the fireplace. The embers are burning brightly in her caramel eyes.

"Leftenant,"

It's Crane's soft voice that causes her to turn around. She smiles as she stares at him hair a mess. It's not tied up but flowing along his shoulder like blades of grass. This is the only time he'll conform to her society by wearing regular sleep attire. His white cotton shirt hugs against the defined creases and lines of his muscles. Maybe it's a good thing he doesn't dress like this everyday because she doesn't know if she'd be able to think straight if he did.

Stop it Abbie, get yourself together he's married, you're not a homewrecker.

"Can't sleep" She asks.

He nods his head but stays firmly planted in his stance. He doesn't move because he has to admire how lovely she looks with the flames dancing along her lovely skin. Or the way she seems so comfortable for once in her life. No crime, or duty as a witness plagues her thoughts. For this moment she's Abbie, a piece of her before she was touched with baggage, before he came into her life, remains now.

"It seems we both have harrowing thoughts plaguing our mind."

Abbie nods her head and begins to turn around. This is Cranes cue to walk towards her. She can barely hear him for once because he's barefoot. He's slowly changing metamorphosing into the modern man, a man learning about the world around him. He's slowly beginning to believe that this is his new home, that being here with her, is where he's always belonged.

He had even learned to drive a car, her car, despite the fact she told him that he drove recklessly and that she'd have to arrest him. He liked trying for her, showing her that she didn't have to always worry about him. He could learn about this strange world. She is a wonderful teacher always explaining things kindly to him. She'd even indulge him on his mindless banter about how certain actions displeased him.

He sits down next to her but they hold a decent distance from one another. They both stare ahead into the fire. They are silent but it brings comfort to their ears. They are comfortable enough to be quiet with each other to listen to the crackle of the fire together.

It is Abbie that breaks the silence. She turns to face Crane smiling,

"Thanks for earlier,"

Crane raises his eyebrow slightly as she places her hand on top of his. Such a small notion in his era would be considered only appropriate for courting. However, he'd allow her to touch him, heck, some parts of him, the darker side, wanted her to touch him all over.

Her fingers are warm and causes his body to dance with a beautiful sensation. As she rubs the top of his hand his senses erupt like thunder throughout him.

"I will always be at your side leftenant, until the end of days."

Abbie smiles at the notion the flames of the fire blazing, gleaming, against the darkness of her hair. He'd never noticed before but there are traces of auburn inside her tresses. He allows himself this indulgence and he takes her hand into his. Both their fingers bend to each other pressed together as if they are sharing each other's affections. The pit of his stomach bursts with butterflies. Almost as much as earlier when she wiped the delicious cream off of his face. Just the ideal of her hand being that close to his lips made his insides go haywire like a unrelentless fire.

"That sounds like wedding vows," she teases.

She doesn't realize the weight of that statement until she feels his hand slowly unclench hers. She was stupid to say so, especially, when his wife is still very much in their lives. Only a week before he had seen Katrina. Tried to get her out of the clutches of the horseman of death. Abbie had never been a woman to claim someone else's loved one but there is something about Crane that causes her to question all her morals.

"I believe that statement holds some truth leftenant, it is apparent that our destinies seem to marry or forge with one anothers."

She sighs in relief happy that he hasn't taken her comment as being rude or offensive. She did respect him for being married and she would never, despite her thoughts, make him choose between her and his wife. Well, least not in a sexual way. When it comes to their mission, to the common good of humanity, she'd ask him to choose. As much as it scares her she feels as if Katrina will cause Crane to question his judgement.

"Why can't you sleep?"

She decides to change the subject immediately before she makes him run away from her. She couldn't share these feelings with him because that would complicate things and the world couldn't handle any more complication. He sighs shrugging.

"It seems there are too many issues to ponder."

"Can I help?"

She turns back towards the fire and they both stare at it.

"I wouldn't like to burden you any further leftenant,"

"You never burden me, besides, like you said we're a team."

She nudges his shoulder with her shoulder. She believes it to be a playful approach but he finds it oddly romantic. He longs to touch her skin again feel her warmth underneath is these thoughts swimming through his mind that keeps him up at night. How can he tell her that he just dreamed about her. Feeling her skin underneath the tips of his fingers, grazing his hands through her hair, or sharing her breath with his. How can he explain that he had to come out to check on her, to walk off the dream that stays fresh in his mind. He couldn't ever tell her that because he shouldn't have these feelings. These beautiful disaster of feelings.

"I merely contemplate the notion of our lives after the apocalypse."

"Hmm, I think about that often as well," Abbie yawns.

She leans her head against his shoulder nuzzling closer to him. He knows he should move her...but he doesn't because this is as close as he could ever be to her. "I think about us finally living happily. Maybe vacationing somewhere, someplace warm. God, I miss warmth."

"Should I fetch your blanket?"

She shakes her head he can tell that sleep is taking her away because her voice is warm slowly ceasing. Maybe it's because he silences her thoughts causing her to relax. Her muscles unclench her breathing becomes steady and regular.

"Think of how beautiful it'd be," she murmurs.

He looks down and notices her closed eyelids perfectly sewn together. "The beach and the sand under our toes…" She nuzzles closer her petite body forming perfectly alongside his.

"I'd love to witness what you profuse Miss. Mills,"

She doesn't respond and this confirms his thoughts accurately. Sleep has in fact whisked her away. He wonders what she dreams about as he stares down at her peaceful facade.

"Oh Ichabod," she murmurs.

For a second he believes she's speaking to him calling his name. Yet, he notices her eyes still shut her breathing still steady. Maybe, she's just answered his thoughts. Maybe she dreams of him just as much as he dreams of her. He smiles softly,

"Sweet dreams Abbie," he whispers as he gets up wrapping a blanket around her. Showing her he cares in the only way he knew how.

Hope you all enjoyed this little fun chapter! I have to say last nights episode was SO beautiful. The slow burn of ichabbie from that episode made me inspired to write this fic. I love them together so much and I believe these are the thoughts inside their minds. I don't condone cheating, so, until Katrina is out of the picture all they can do is think about each. *hopefully, she will be gone soon!* Crossing fingers. Enjoy please comment :]]