Most days, if he'd forgotten something at home, he'd have been right livid with himself. The car ride home would have been filled with a curse here and there, a hand or two slapping the steering wheel, and maybe even a foot stomp due to his lack of remembrance. Bella would have called it a tantrum and he'd have been forced to agree.
Today, though, he found he didn't quite mind. In fact, he even wondered if he'd subconsciously done it on purpose. For a while now, he'd not had anything so alluring as to make him anxious to return home with the swiftness he was now using. Katrina was enough of a lure that he thought he might have to bring his work home more often.
The taste of her lips had become somewhat of an addiction; the kind for which he hoped no cure would ever be found. Then, there was the increase to how close they'd become over the past few weeks. It was like a breath of fresh air to be so open with her; to begin to understand the inner workings of her mind; to how she felt about certain things and why she'd made so many of the choices she had.
In return for the growing feelings between them was the physical aspect to their love. More and more, he found himself desperate for her. The way she touched him, her every caress setting him ablaze, left him frustrated in more than one way.
Every night had become a struggle to maintain the vow he'd made to himself the night he'd decided to accept her; the vow to keep their relationship from that ultimate completion until they were truly ready. Sex was something he loved and it was something he wanted only with Katrina. However, he simply didn't want them to become so involved in the sex that they never actually talked of the how's and why's. That reason was the idea behind waiting. He intended to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he and Katrina could make this new family of theirs last for a lifetime before taking that final step in reigniting their marriage.
The problem was that an idea was just that: an idea. Actually lying in bed with Katrina at night, her body warm and firm against his, was another matter altogether. It took every ounce of willpower he imagined he possessed to keep his hands from roaming too far, too fast.
As he pushed the front door open, the scent of the vanilla candles lit on the kitchen counter mixed with the leftover smells from breakfast captured his attention and reminded him that he'd yet to eat lunch.
"Katrina?"
No answer.
Setting his briefcase on the sofa table, he ran a hand through his hair and wondered where she could have gotten off to without letting him know.
It wasn't that he wished to keep tabs on her so much as they seemed to be in constant contact via text message. Of late, Katrina had taken more warmly to the idea of the modern means of communication and had allowed Bella to take her through a tutorial of the various uses of her iPhone, which, to his delight, had been very amusing to watch.
Needless to say, since she'd learned she could voice her any thought to him with a few taps here and there, no matter where he was, she did it more often than he would have guessed her capable.
The last he'd heard of her, she was cleaning up the kitchen and wondering where the strainer was kept when not in use.
"Odd," he murmured, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of water.
However, before he could get it open, Bob was suddenly scurrying around his feet, the little ball of energy seeking the kind of attention he wasn't in the mood to give.
"I believe you have your wires crossed, Bob," he greeted as he eased the puppy away from his pants leg with the tip of his shoe. "If you recall, you and I are not friends."
Since Bella had brought the puppy home, they'd had one ordeal after another.
The corner of the couch had been destroyed, his best boots chewed, poop and pee in every room. How such a small creature could wreck so much havoc was beyond his imagining... and he could imagine a great deal.
Katrina, bless her soul, did her best to take the puppy out as much as possible, but the stubborn fur ball would stand at the door whining until let back inside. Then, without hardly a minute passing, it would relieve itself anywhere it knew it shouldn't.
Due to his attempt at teaching Bella a lesson in responsibility, he'd been forcing her to clean up the messes that weren't too horrible. However, he'd learned that when it came to his daughter and her attempts at cleaning, he was better off finding another area to teach responsibility as she tended to make most of the messes worse than they'd started.
Not having any luck tearing the puppy from his pants leg, he set his water bottle down in order to reach for him, but he was halted by a light crackling noise behind his bedroom door.
"Katrina?" he called, a little louder than earlier. "Are you here?"
The door became a sort of draw to him as he found himself moving toward it. As he neared, he noticed it already cracked open and took hold of the knob to push it wide enough to walk through.
Her name was nearly out of his lips before the scent of something burning caught his nose and stopped him, the sight before him holding his feet like cement blocks in the doorway.
Blood dripped from between her fingers as she held her hand out over a bowl, various herbs and candles set out about her in a circle.
Magic had become somewhat of a common occurrence in their household of late. However, this wasn't the regular sort of spell he usually walked in on her teaching Bella. This was different.
It was blood magic.
Memories of milky white eyes accompanying the dark magic she'd used in her attempt to kill him surfaced, choking him under their weight.
The step he took back wasn't even a conscious choice. It was instinct, pure and raw. He had to get out before she saw him; before she knew he'd discovered her.
However, before he could fully get out the door, Bob had scurried past him toward her cross-legged position on the floor.
The moment her head began turning, he spun and bolted for the front door.
"And you don't know what the spell was?"
Head in his hands, he slouched over Abbie's desk, all his dreams in ashes.
"I don't-" His voice trembled as he shook his head. "I don't understand."
"It's gonna be okay."
Snapping his head up, he met his friend's eyes. "Okay? My wife has betrayed me again. How is that okay, Abbie?"
"I know it's hard to accept," she went on, her hand laying over his. "You wanted this to work for Bella and you."
"We have to put her back," he whispered, hardly able to believe he was uttering such words. "I just- she's too powerful. We'll never manage to get near her."
"We'll figure it out just like we always have."
"It'll crush, Bella," he began, only to snap his head up as his daughter's name sparked a thought. "Bella. I have to pick her up from school. If Katrina knows I saw her-"
"I'll drive," Abbie said, already grabbing her keys and heading for the door.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Crane, but your wife checked your daughter out fifteen minutes ago." The elderly secretary pushed her glasses up her nose. "She was on the list of people who could check her out."
The woman looked worried she'd done something wrong.
"Did she mention anything about where she was going next?"
The secretary looked between them with a confused expression. "I didn't think it my business to ask."
The last ounce of strength he had left him as he sunk to the floor against the large desk. "She's gone..." He stared blankly ahead. "Bella's... I'll never see her again."
"Crane-"
"I trusted her, Abbie." His body began to shake, his circumstances overtaking his rational thoughts and leaving him with panic. "She said she loved me. She said she wanted to be with me."
"She manipulated you," Abbie whispered, her hand on his arm. "But none of that matters because we're not going to stop until we find Bella." She patted his shoulder encouragingly. "Now, get up."
"Abbie-"
"We don't have time for you to fall apart. We're going to your house to see if we can find anything that might tell us where she would have taken her."
Despite his urge to protest, he pushed himself up and fell into step behind his friend, certain his life was at its end.
"There's nothing amiss," he said, his eyes combing Bella's room. "Everything's just as she left it this morning." He picked up Trigger and held the stuffed animal close. "This isn't right. Katrina knows how much Bella loves this thing."
Abbie continued to look around the room. "I doubt she had time to make a clear cut plan."
"No," he whispered, his eyes on the dresser, taking in all of Bella's favorite things. "That's not Katrina. She wouldn't have left this."
"Crane, I think you're putting a little too much stock in knowing how Katrina thinks."
"Abbie-"
"Daddy?" His and Abbie's heads snapped toward the hallway as the front door closed. "Where are you?"
"Bella," he whispered, as he began running toward the other room, his heart thudding in his chest.
As he rounded the corner, he found Katrina helping Bella out of her coat as she balanced an ice cream cone in her other hand.
"Bella, you're-" He tried to assess the situation, but couldn't find the words. "You're here."
He quickly made his way toward her and all but collapsed to his knees before pulling her into his arms, relief flooding his system at having her close and safe.
"What's wrong, daddy?" Bella asked, her small hands cupping his face as she stared at him. "Did you stub your toe?"
"No," he chuckled, while smoothing a hand over her hair. "I-"
The slightest movement behind Bella drew his attention up to find Katrina staring at something behind him with a pinched expression, her fingers tightly wound around the keys in her hand.
"Mommy and I went to get ice cream," Bella bragged, taking that moment to lick at her dripping cone. "Why are you home so early?"
"I-" He chanced a look behind him to find Abbie standing a few feet away, her expression quite similar to Katrina's, if not more intimidating. "I was worried when I went to get you from school. The secretary said you were checked out."
He turned back to Bella just in time to see her smile up at Katrina. "Mommy said we were going to surprise you at work."
"Did she?" He, too, looked to Katrina, who finally met his gaze, her eyes softening as she did so.
"Yes, but as we passed, we saw Abbie's car here." Her eyes cut back to Abbie. "So, we stopped."
"Lucky you," Abbie voiced behind him, her tone even and all business.
"Bob!" Bella exclaimed, leaving his arms and darting past him toward the kitchen. "I missed you all day."
Lost in her joy over being reunited with her friend, Bella's absence gave him the opportunity to rise to his feet and fully face Katrina.
"I know what you're thinking," she began, taking a step toward him, her intent to get the first word in clear. "And it's not true."
"You have no idea what I'm thinking," he bit, his voice laced with malice. "What I went through when they told me you'd taken Bella."
"My love." She reached out to him, her plea a cracked whisper. "Please-"
"Don't!" he growled, snapping a finger in her direction. "You took my child."
"Our child," Katrina corrected, her brow furrowed, the expression on her face suggesting she couldn't believe he'd called her anything else; as if it was a foreign concept to her that he was angry enough to do so. "And you're acting as though I stole her away. She's right there, Ichabod." She gestured to Bella, who was still oblivious as she wrestled with Bob. "I brought her home to you, every hair on her head in place."
"Katrina-"
"I knew you would jump to conclusions," she interrupted. "And I knew you would never give me the opportunity to explain."
"Explain?" Abbie asked, the tension in the room rising as her presence intruded upon the conversation. "You're dabbling in blood magic, again. There's not much there to explain."
"Don't pretend as though you know anything about what I do," Katrina snapped, her eyes dancing dangerously at Abbie. "You're just elated because you think you've been proven right. You've been waiting for an opportunity to attack me since the moment I was released."
Mind spinning, he brought a hand to his head as he leaned against the back of the sofa. This day...
"I think it's time you leave," Abbie said, causing him to lift his head just in time to see her lay her hand to the butt of her firearm.
"Abbie-" he began to object, not wanting to see this situation escalate to a violent level.
However, Katrina's eyes flickering between Abbie's hand and face gave him panic. Just as he moved to intercede and step between them, Abbie's pistol snapped from her side and flew into Katrina's hand, the sight of it prompting his heart to falter.
"Katrina," he whispered, stepping between she and his friend, his eyes now trained on the weapon she was holding before her, every muscle in his body rigid. "Don't." He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender; not wanting to give her any cause for premature action. "Whatever the case, this will not happen with Bella in the house."
As her eyes danced between he and Bella, she shook her head, tears building around her gold-green orbs. "Just-" she choked on a sob. "Please, just allow me to explain. That's all I ask, Ichabod." With trembling hands, she held the pistol out for him to take. "I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want you to listen."
The way she could pull his heart from his chest and tear it to shreds terrified him. Here he was, on the verge of a breakdown because he'd thought she'd stolen his daughter, and now he was feeling the urge to give her another chance. How was it possible for such feelings to occur within him so quickly?
As he took the weapon from her with a measure of care for how quickly she could move, he whispered, "Tell me."
"Crane-"
He held his hand up without ever breaking eye contact with Katrina.
"Tell me," he repeated, his heart ready to burst from his chest.
Allowing Abbie to speak over Katrina in this situation would not help matters. That he knew for certain. His friend's life might very well be in danger if he didn't handle this situation with a delicate hand. Letting Katrina have her say may well be the only way to calm matters enough to settle this situation entirely.
"It wasn't anything dangerous or insidious," she quickly assured, wiping a hand under her eyes. "It was a simple spell any which would perform without fear of retribution."
"Katrina," he whispered, his eyes hardening as he considered the lie she was seemingly trying to spin. "I know what I saw."
"Yes, I used my blood," she hurried to explain, her eyes wide. "But it wasn't anything for me. It was gift for you, my love."
Perplexed, he narrowed his eyes at her.
For him? What on earth could she have been doing with something so against what he stood for in his name?
"A gift?" he asked incredulously, sure she'd lost her mind. "You thought blood magic was an acceptable gift? And, yet, you ask me to trust your judgment?"
"It was a memory; a recollection of the day of and following Jeremy's birth." She shook her head. "I wanted you to be able to experience his life as you expressed wanting to do so; to give you the better memories you said you wished you had. My blood was required as a part of the potion I was making. It replicates my memories for you to see."
It was too much to comprehend. She'd done this for him? That's what this entire day had been about since the onset?
Drawing away from her, he turned to Abbie who was still on guard behind him, seeking her opinion on the matter.
However, one look from her told him all he needed to know.
"You don't actually believe her!"
Mouth moving without sound, he glanced back at Katrina, who looked ready to fall to pieces, before once again facing his friend. "It- I did express such a wish to her."
"Crane," Abbie urged, taking his arm and pulling him away from Katrina, as though a few feet would make a difference. "Do not let her manipulate you."
"I can prove it," Katrina interjected, as she dug in her coat pocket before producing a small vile containing a purplish liquid. "It's ready. All you have to do is drink it and you'll see the truth."
There was a certain desperation about her as she held the small offering out to him; one he couldn't say he'd associated with Katrina on too many occasions. She was always so sure of herself; so in control. To see her on the verge of falling apart spoke volumes to her case in his opinion.
To convince Abbie of that, though...
"There is no way in hell he's drinking that," Abbie objected, her eyes shooting daggers at Katrina. "We don't have any proof that whatever is in that vile is even legit."
"If she wanted to hurt me, she could have already done so," he defended, taking the vile from Katrina; the small thing that was causing them so much strife.
"Are you out of your mind?" Abbie reached for the vile, but he snapped his hand away, making sure to keep it safely tucked against his palm. "Ichabod-"
"Abbie," he interrupted, giving his friend a pleasing look. "There's no reason to distrust her."
"No reas- Are you kidding me?" Abbie flung her hands up. "There're dozens of reasons."
"None that have come to light today," he argued, more sure than he'd been since this nightmare had started. "She brought Bella home-"
"After kidnapping her!"
A heavy breath left him as he considered his words; one's he knew would come back to bite him. "After taking insurance to make me listen to her."
"Oh, so Bella's insurance, now?" Abbie shook her head as she began pacing. "Don't be so gullible, Ichabod. Just wanting to believe something doesn't make it true."
Twisting the vile between his fingers, he stared at it; attempting to find reassurance for what he was feeling.
"Tell me something," he whispered, his eyes seeking out his wife. "Tell me something I can trust; that both Abbie and I can trust."
"I-" Katrina's eyes flickered between them, hesitancy clear in them. If she didn't say something quick he wasn't sure he'd be able to maintain this situation much longer. "Bella."
"Bella?" He turned to look at his daughter, finding her chasing Bob up and down the hallway on all fours. "What of her?"
"Perhaps, even after everything we've spoken of, you still don't trust my love for you, but you cannot deny my love for her." Katrina's hand rested over his on the vile. "I would give my life to see her continued happiness and you make her happier than anyone." Her touch burned through him. "Trust that."
There wasn't anything in her words he could dispute; nothing in which he could find fault. All he really had was his gut feeling which was telling him she was being honest.
At the end of this debate, he popped the cork on the vile and downed its contents before anyone could object, the foul taste hardly a blip as the effects established themselves from the onset of the liquid touching his tongue.
It was like watching a movie without being able to move or speak. Images flashed through his mind without warning, too out of focus to register. There was nothing he could truly latch onto as a foundation to know his time or place. Voices rushed past him as he struggled to understand what they meant with no success.
Then, without warning, everything became clear as day. He and Katrina, the night before his departure, tangled in their bed together; no regard for anything other than their lover; making love as though they each knew it would be the last time.
Seeing them together in such a way hurt him more than his own memory. It was the actuality of seeing how in love they'd once been; how close, both physically and emotionally.
She'd been his everything and it was completely obvious in the way he touched her; in the way his body moved over her. Her reciprocation was equally as telling; her eyes trained on his every move as though he were the very air she breathed; one thing that could not exist without the other.
Before he could really take them in, the scene change to one of utter chaos; cannon and musket fire all around him. Then, Katrina was hovering over him as he lay sliced open, his body exposed as she begged for him to stay with her; pressing kisses to his face and hand as she wept. Then, the Reverend Knapp was there, urging her to complete the spell.
Her devastation as she looked up at the man took the air from his lungs.
"No," she whispered, her tears leaving muddy streaks against her skin. "There must be another way."
Knapp leaned over his body and pressed Washington's Bible to his chest. "This is your mission; your duty. Preserve him as you vowed you would."
Katrina's eyes shut tightly as she bowed over him, her body wracked with sobs; her hands clutching at his ripped vest.
"Ichabod, please," she pleaded, her voice as broken as his body. "Don't leave me here."
"Katrina," Knapp pressed as a soldier bumped into him in a hurry to escape the tent. "He's beyond our aid. See your duty done. Preserve him." Knapp placed a hand to her arm and tugged her up. "The time is nearly passed."
He wanted to intercede and berate the man for his treatment of his wife. He had no right to place hands on her in such a way; to speak to her as though her husband wasn't lying their on the edge of death.
Katrina's hands shook as she placed one to his head and the other to Washington's Bible. He wanted to go to her; to tell her he was fine; that this moment would not be their last together, but, then the scene changed once more.
Now, he was in a house, one decorated lavishly.
"Perhaps, this tonic will help."
He turned to find Abigail Adams looming in his vision as she hurried forward with a tray.
"I have nowhere to go," Katrina whispered, her voice choked and breathing labored as she hunched over herself. "Nowhere, they won't find me."
"You'll remain here," Abigail assured, taking a seat beside Katrina and placing a hand to her back. "I will speak with my husband-"
"No," Katrina interjected, standing from the bed, her belly giving way to her condition. "It's not safe, now... with the baby."
Seeing her full with child caused him to lurch toward her.
"Katrina?" he called, but, to his disappointment, she never acknowledged him.
"Is there no sanctuary you know?" Abigail asked. "What of Frederick's Manor?"
Katrina shook her head, defeat overtaking her features. "It's too far. I'd never out run them, not in my condition."
Abigail stood from the bed. "I will gather supplies for you to take with you and my fastest carriage to carry you there."
As Abigail departed the room, Katrina sank to the bed, her hand resting over her belly. "Forgive me, my love."
The defeat in her gaze brought him to a kneeling position in front of her.
"My love," he whispered, desperate to see her eyes. "I'm right here."
Her eyes opened, revealing that brilliant color he so loved just as the world began changing around him again.
Next, he was surrounded by darkness with only the moon overhead to light his way.
Heavy breathing drew his gaze around to find Katrina fleeing an unknown assailant, her face a mask of terror as she stumbled between trees; Fredrick's Manor looming in sight just ahead.
Then, screams assailed him as he was suddenly in a room, lit with candlelight and servants rushing about in a frenzied manner.
"I cannot do this," she begged, fisting the sheets beneath her. "Not without Ichabod."
"You must," Grace urged, her hand brushing Katrina's hair back in comfort. "Now, push."
Screams filled the room as Katrina gave herself over to bringing their son into the world.
Then, he was there, in Grace's arms as she carefully handed him to Katrina; red and furious to be separated from his home.
His heart skipped a beat as he caught his first true sight of his son; of the precious life he'd been; of the child born of his parents' love.
And Katrina... she was the image of a new mother; thrilled and proud. He'd never seen her so delighted with anything.
"Ichabod would be overjoyed, Katrina," Lachlan assured, as he looked on at mother and child.
Katrina nodded through tears, her hand stroking their son's cheek. "He will be." She smiled. "Your father will be so proud of you, Jeremy."
Glass shattered, drawing everyone's attention from the new life amongst them to the crows beating themselves against the window. Panic ensued as Lachlan urged Katrina and Grace to leave and he felt himself reaching out to her, wishing to protect her.
However, before he could react, he was standing in a church watching Katrina speak softly to their son, tears streaming down her face.
Quickly moving closer to them, he heard her soft whisper.
"You are my heart and soul, Jeremy Crane, and always will be."
While she continued to speak to their son, he looked over the blankets and took in the face of his son; so innocent; so pure. What he wouldn't give to reach out and touch him as Katrina was now doing; to assure him that he would protect him; that evil would never know his name.
As she moved to hand Jeremy to Grace, he matched her step for step, not wanting to miss a moment of what she'd seen of their son's life. To his surprise, Katrina did not linger and procrastinate her separation, but, instead, hurriedly turned and began briskly walking in the opposite direction.
It was only when she was halfway down the aisle of the church that he heard her pained sob. The moment she reached the tree line, she collapsed to the ground, her grief wrecking her body as she clutched at herself.
What he wouldn't give to comfort her; to touch her. Coming to kneel beside her, he observed the way she dug her fingers into her dress, attempting to gain control of her emotions.
A flash of light swept him into her next memory and suddenly he found himself surrounded by cloaked figures.
"Give us the witness, Ichabod Crane, and you may return your son."
Katrina stood taller as she looked between The Four, her jaw clenched as she remained silent.
"She will not tell us anything," one of The Four foreshadowed.
"Her heart is too intertwined with the witness'," another said.
"Traitor."
"Insolent."
"She will be banished."
"Crane!"
"What's wrong with my daddy?" Bella whispered, her voice panicked. "Why isn't he waking up?"
"I swear to God," Abbie whispered. "If you've done anything to-"
"He's experiencing my memories," Katrina answered, her voice tinged with frustration. "He will not awaken until it's finished."
He felt as though he were awakening from a long sleep, much like the two century long one he'd endured prior. Everything felt odd; his fingers tingled and his mouth felt dry. Then, there was the ache to the back of his head.
"Katrina," he breathed, eyes cracking open to find the three of them hovering over him, worried expressions permeating each of their faces.
"Crane," Abbie called, her hand tugging at his shoulder. "Talk to me. Are you alright?"
It took him a moment to realize he was on the floor. Of course, like an idiot, he hadn't foreseen he might collapse. At least, that explained the throb to the back of his skull.
"Daddy?" Bella's hands cupped his face, her eyes worriedly looking him over. "Are you sick?"
Conjuring a smile, he pushed himself up and pulled Bella into his lap. "Not at all, angel."
"Well, you fell down like you were," she argued, her face quickly moving from concern to disdain. "You gave me a heart attack."
With a chuckle, he stood her up and regained his feet. "I assure you, I'm fine."
"Did it work?" Eyes seeking out Katrina, he found her fidgeting nervously with her shirt, her gaze searching for answers.
"Did it work?" Abbie echoed. "Are you kidding me?"
"I've never mixed this potion before," Katrina defended, her eyes flickering between them in agitation. "I'd meant to go through the process with him before he took it to explain what would happen. I didn't think he'd just-"
"It worked," he whispered, his eyes never leaving her. "I saw..."
What had he seen? Her memories were so clear to him now; as though each of them were his own. It truly was a gift she'd given him. Never before had he been more sure of her love; of her devotion to him.
"I saw everything."
It was like watching the waves roll back from the shore; as though years of weight had suddenly lifted from her shoulders. "Then, you know I was telling the truth. You know I'd never-"
It wasn't a conscious thought, but a natural next step for him to take her face in his hands and kiss her. His love, his wife, had endured hell in his name, yet, he'd done nothing but doubt her, accuse her of things he, himself, had never fully understood.
Yes, she'd been telling the truth. She'd done so much with so little credit.
"You sacrificed everything for me," he whispered, his emotions torn to shreds as he slid his hands down her arms to take her fingers between his. "I could never repay such devotion."
The glisten to her eyes was the least of the evidence to how truly relieved she was. "You don't have to repay something that's freely given."
"I-"
"Excuse me," Bella muttered, squeezing her way between them. "Why are you whispering?"
With a roll of his eyes, he bent to muss her hair. "None of your concern, nosey."
"Whatever," she groaned, before turning to the puppy gnawing at her shoes and lifting him from the floor. "Come on, Bob. Grown-ups are weird."
When he turned back to Katrina, intent upon further discussing what had just transpired, he found her expression more reserved as her hands slipped from his person.
"I'll go help her change."
As she walked past him, he noticed her avoid all eye contact with Abbie, her gaze completely on Bella as she guided her to the back of the house.
"Just like that, huh?"
A heavy sigh left him as he turned to his friend, knowing full well he was about to face a storm. "She wasn't lying, Abbie. Everything she said was proven truthful. I saw every memory as though it were my own."
Abbie nodded, her lips tightly pursed. A storm, indeed, he thought as he observed the tale-tale signs of her working to keep herself in check.
"Go on, attempt to make your next case." He couldn't take much more of the tension between all of them. "She's my wife and I've chosen to forgive her. That's between she and I."
"Alright, well, then, the next time you start doubting your wife again, maybe don't come running to me for help." She started for the door before spinning back to him with her hands in the air. "Why am I surprised, though? You and her are both the same; selfish to the core and only available when you need something."
"Abbie, that isn't-"
Abbie's eyes flashed at him. "I raised that little girl with you, Ichabod. Every step of the way, Jenny and I were there, giving you any and all of the time you required of us."
"And I'm grateful for that-"
"No," Abbie countered, her hand the one pointed at him this time. "You're just one of those people who want what they want and are willing to blindly go through life acceptpting everything they have to in order to keep it."
He moved to refute her, but she held up her hands, not allowing it.
"No, I'm done." She shook her head. "I'm done listening to you make excuses for Katrina and I'm done watching her hurt you over and over only for you to forgive her at every turn." She pointed to the door. "Other people don't get the kinds of second and third and tenth chances she's been given. Most people have to suffer the consequences for attempting to commit murder and harboring fugitives and covering up deaths and God only knows what else she's done."
The knot in the back of his throat would not budge.
"I love you, Crane, and I love, Bella, but I'm not a fool and I will not be treated like one. Katrina has no remorse for the people she's hurt and I've lost too many friends and loved ones to the skewed and one-sided ideas she harbors. She's a manipulator and you are her best puppet." She pulled the door open. "I'm here for Bella, but I am done with you."
With that she pulled the door closed behind her, leaving him with the feeling that his heart had just shattered.
What had just happened?
"I'm sorry."
The unexpected sound of her voice prompted his eyes to shut tightly.
"I never meant to-"
"I'm going for a walk." He reached for his coat and headed for the same door his friend had just slammed, a perfect example of how he'd just been shut from her life. "Don't wait up for me."
"Ichabod-"
"Katrina," he begged, as he turned to find her staring after him, worry present in her eyes. "Just don't."
The nod she gave him was hesitant, but it was her assurance nonetheless. Trust her as he now did, he knew she wouldn't follow.
With that, he open the door and departed.
Walking.
Once upon a time, such a luxury had been a wonderful past time. No matter the time of day, or the circumstances of life, he'd take a walk and sort his thoughts out; allow his mind to work through and grasp onto whatever it was he needed to wrap his mind around at the time.
However, this evening, he found the crisp evening air to be of little service in the matter of determining just what had happened in the events which had transpired in his home.
How was it possible for one day to take him through so many emotions? He'd gone from hopefulness to despair to anger to grief to relief then back to despair.
Katrina had gone from losing his trust to regaining it in ways he'd yet to fully comprehend while Abbie had gone from determined to help him fix his life to walking out of it.
A cool breeze brushed his skin as he paused, attempting to allow his muddled thoughts to dissipate. Whatever had happened earlier, he knew one thing for sure: his life was never going to flow easy.
It always seemed to be something; some end of the world catastrophe that swooped in and stole his peace from him. No matter what he did, how hard he tried to make everyone important to him happy, he seemed to always fail in the worst ways.
At the end of what he considered a walk with no resolution, he turned on his heel and started back toward his house. A glance at his watch told him Bella's bedtime was fast approaching and she couldn't afford to miss or be late to anymore school.
By the time he was walking through his front door, he was exhausted from the mental exertion the walk had taken from him. He expected a fight with an earlier bedtime than usual, but he was too tired to extend this night any longer.
However, to his surprise, only the light above the stove was on, leaving everything else shrouded in darkness.
Laughter pouring from his bedroom caught his attention. Following it, he crept up to the door and peeked through the crack, much as he'd done earlier in the day.
This time, though, there was nothing from which to flee. Quite the opposite really. This time, he found Katrina propped up on pillows in his bed with Bella right beside her, the two of them completely wrapped up in whatever movie they were watching.
"I love her dress," Bella giggled, her voice a tale of her excitement. "Don't you, mommy?"
Katrina chucked as she nodded along with Bella. "I do. Actually, I've worn a dress or two quite similar to that one."
"You have?" Bella stared up at her wide eyed. "That's so cool!"
He could have watched them for ages; mother and daughter, content with simply watching a movie together as though they'd been doing it for years. Just the sight of them calmed his nerves considerably, but it wasn't enough to cure his tiredness.
Clearing his throat, he pushed the door open and smiled as both of their heads whipped toward him.
"Daddy!" Bella pushed herself up on her knees. "Where have you been, silly?"
"Oh, I just went for a short walk."
"Short?" Bella scrunched up her face at him. "You've been gone forever!"
"And you hardly look ready for bed," he countered, his eyes narrowed. "You have school tomorrow."
She fell back with a pleading expression. "It's almost over."
Stepping further into the room, he noticed Sleeping Beauty playing on the TV.
"Is it, now?" he asked, well familiar with the animated princess and just how long this particular movie had left. "Best I can tell, it still has half an hour."
Bella tucked in closer to Katrina, who accepted their daughter's squirming attempt to avoid his eyes.
"I'm sleeping with mommy, tonight."
"Are you?" he asked, his eyes finally meeting Katrina's.
The way she was looking at him, a thousand questions in her gaze, left him wanting to avoid her. He simply didn't have the energy for that conversation tonight.
"Finish your movie," he relented. "I'm going to change."
Bella gave a small squeal of delight as she bounced back into her previous spot in the bed. "Ok, Bob, no more hiding."
Out of nowhere, the puppy popped out of the blankets causing him to groan. "Bella, must you allow that dog in my bed?"
Bella gave him a perplexed look. "But this is mommy's bed." She lifted her chin with a bit of defiance. "And she said I could."
About to open his mouth and reprimand the smart remark, Katrina butt in, "Your father works very hard to give us all beds to sleep in, Bella. If he says Bob shouldn't be here-"
"It's fine," he cut in, too tired to argue with them. "I'll be right back."
After he'd shut the bathroom door, he leaned over the sink and sighed, his head pounding. What he wouldn't have given for just one more day of peace.
Amidst changing into some clothes to sleep in, he heard them start giggling again. More than anything, he wished he could just relax and share in their joy. He simply wasn't sure he had it in him this evening.
Finished changing, he open the door and noticed them once again enthralled with the movie.
"All right, angel." He made his way over to the bed and bent to kiss her forehead. "Straight to sleep as soon as this is over, understood?"
"But aren't you going to watch it with us?" Bella sat up and tugged on the covers. "There's room for you, too."
Chancing a small glance at Katrina, he found her observing him again, leaving him completely unnerved. "Bells, I-"
"Please, daddy," she begged, latching onto his shirt. "It's almost over. I want you and mommy here."
It was as though she knew just what to say to tear out his heart, no doubt something she'd inherited from her mother.
Murmuring under his breath, he relented and slipped under the covers beside her.
Without wasting a moment, she burrowed into his side, leaving Bob to curl up in Katrina's lap.
"It's your favorite part."
"Is it?" he asked with a chuckle, more than a little pleased he rated higher than the dog tonight.
"Mhm."
"Why is this your favorite part?" Katrina asked, her brow furrowed as she tended to Bob's need to be scratched. "It's quite sad. She died."
"Because, daddy's Beauty and you're his prince." Bella yawned. "He said he went to sleep for a long time and you saved him."
A little hot under the collar that his sappy story had now been shared, he shifted in discomfort. "Well, it's-" He shrugged his shoulders. "Similar."
"See," Bella pointed at the TV. "He woke her up with true love's kiss." She turned to Katrina. "Is that how you woke daddy up?"
Katrina smiled and nodded her head side to side. "Not quite, but... Our true love did save him for sure."
Unable to help himself, he finally looked at her, meeting those eyes he so loved. There was no discord or sadness in her gaze this time; only love.
"For sure," he whispered, reaching out and threading their fingers together.
He could have gotten lost in her eyes had not the volume of the next scene picked up. However, he never took his hand from hers.
It was like an ocean of warmth had flooded him. Just touching her calmed his nerves and reminded him of all she'd been; all she was. How had he ever survived a day without her?
Turning his eyes back to her, he observed how drawn into the movie she was. It made him smile to think of how innocent it was for her to be here, simply watching a movie with their daughter.
For so long, there'd been so much hidden behind those gold-green eyes and, now, it felt like a wall of iron and steel had collapsed around her, revealing her deepest wounds to him.
"I believe she's out," Katrina whispered, as she ran her fingers through Bella's hair, brushing it from her face.
"Oh, yes," he said, finally noticing the movie had reached its conclusion.
Katrina smiled as she eased Bob over to curl against Bella. "That was fast."
"She was fighting it," he whispered, making sure she had a pillow under her head.
Once he had her adjusted, he nodded toward the door and added, "I'll just-"
"Stay with us," she cut in, her hand reaching out and clasping his.
"Katrina-"
"I think it would make her happy to wake up between us," she quickly added, her fingers pulling him closer. "Please, don't go."
Shaking his head with a small grin, he remarked, "The two of you and your power of persuasion."
"Does that mean you'll stay?" she asked, hope clear in her voice.
"Did I truly have a choice in the matter?" he asked, as he eased down in the bed to rest on his side.
As she followed suit, facing him on Bella's other side, she laid her arm around Bella to hold her close. "I suppose not. I've simply become so accustomed to having you with me at night."
It would have taken a tremendous amount of willpower to keep himself from touching her; the likes of which he didn't possess.
In moments, he had an arm over Bella's head, stroking Katrina's hair.
"I'm sorry I left so abruptly," he whispered, true remorse present. "I just-"
"I understand." She pressed a kiss to his wrist. "It's been a very long day."
"It has," he replied, before meeting her eyes. "I want to discuss it."
"Discuss...?" She searched his gaze before adding, "My memories?"
"I've traded doubt for regret where you're concerned."
The furrow of her brow was to be expected as he was sure he was making little sense.
"Regret for what?"
"For everything we lost; for everything I abandoned you to endure alone."
"My love," she whispered, her eyes momentarily falling closed as she took a moment to respond. "I've carried so much anger and resentment all these years..." She met his gaze again. "But I've never suffered the idea that you abandoned me. It's simply not true."
She lifted her hand, her fingers smoothing over his cheek. "You, Ichabod Crane, are the great love of my life. No other in this, or any world, could take your place in my heart."
"Even after everything that's happened?"
She smiled, her eyes creasing with mirth. "Truest love, indeed."
Joining her in her amusement, he glanced down at Bella who was deep in her dreams by this point. To see his daughter in such an innocent state brought to mind his eldest child.
"He was a beautiful baby."
Her fingers paused only for a moment before he felt them slip under his chin and tilt his face to her. The contentment in her eyes settled his soul.
"I love you, Ichabod Crane."
"As I love you."
