One week later

Approaching the triage tent, Ichabod groaned as he held his hand tightly. "I can't believe you don't know how to stitch."

"Do I look like a nurse to you?" asked Thomas.

Glancing at Thomas, he quirked his eyebrows. "You just want an excuse to visit the nurses."

With an appalled expression, Thomas brought a hand to his heart. "How could you possibly think such a thing? That I would allow my friend to suffer through such pain all to see a few pretty ladies."

Rolling his eyes, he noticed the particular tent they needed come into view and sighed. He and Katrina had been avoiding each other since the meeting. Moving camp had been an easy enough distraction, but now he was in need of stitches and he had no choice but to venture into her area. He only hoped she wasn't there. As he entered, he took a seat on one of the cots and breathed his relief at not seeing her after glancing around anxiously.

"How may I help you?" asked one of the nurses.

"I-"

"Captain Crane here just needs a little help," Thomas cut in with a smile. "I thought I'd bring him to a professional such as yourself."

The young nurse's dark brown eyes raked over Thomas momentarily before jerking away, a slight blush creeping into her features. Wishing he were anywhere else, he held up the hand that was pouring blood, hoping to gain a bit of medical attention.

The young nurses eyes widened. "Oh! Of course! One moment."

As she moved across the tent, he observed Thomas watching her go. "Thomas, leave the nurses be."

His friend gave him an innocent look. "I haven't done anything yet."

"Yet," he punctuated. "It's always yet, with you."

"Tabitha? Have you checked on Mr. Kent lately?"

Her voice pulled his attention from Thomas. Jerking his gaze to the place it originated, he found her only a few feet away, her notice having not found them. Holding his breath, he hoped she would move on, remaining oblivious to them.

"Not yet, but I will just as soon as I help Mr. Crane with his injury."

Releasing the breath he was holding through his teeth, he rolled his eyes. Perfect.

Katrina's eyes were already scrunched in confusion as she asked, "Mr. Crane?"

The young woman nodded and gestured in his direction. "Yes. He's there."

Katrina's gaze followed the woman's hand and landed on him, a look of confusion clouding her features for a moment before her eyes fell to his hand and a slightly panicked expression coming to her face as she quickly stepped to him. "Ichabod, what happened?"

While she grabbed his bleeding mess of a hand and inspected it, he answered, "My knife slipped. It was a clumsy accident."

"It's deep," she whispered, bending close to take in the full extent of the wound. "You'll need stitches."

She was too close. Attempting to pull his hand from her, he cleared his throat. "This young lady was just about to attend to it."

As his hand slipped from hers, her green eyes flickered up to his. How so many emotions could pass across her face in a moment always amazed him. With a terse nod, she backed away and spoke in her more official manner, rather than the soft one she'd just been using with him. "Tabitha, Mr. Crane is waiting."

She then moved to stand by Thomas, her arms crossed, and made conversation with him while Tabitha stepped in front of him. She was new. He could see it in her nervous body language and imagined she couldn't have seen too many days in this manner as she appeared completely at a loss for what to do as her fingers fumbled with the needle and thread.

"It's alright, Tabitha," he offered gently. "Just take your time."

She looked up at him with wide eyes before pushing her dark hair from her face and nodding. As she looked back down, he wondered when she would realize the wound needed to be cleaned first before she started stitching. The cut could barely be seen past all the blood and dirt that was caked over it. Tabitha cast another nervous glance back up at him before turning to Katrina. "Maybe you should do this. I haven't yet gotten much experience with stitching."

Katrina was about to speak, when he interrupted, "You can do this, Tabitha. You simply need to clean the wound first."

He knew Katrina was watching him, knew her green eyes were glued to his face, but he avoided her gaze. Grabbing a towel, he dipped it in some water and began cleaning the wound himself. Once he was finished, Tabitha picked up the needle and thread again and attempted to thread the needle, but her hands were shaking quite noticeably, her efforts reaping no reward. By the third attempt, Katrina stepped forward. "Here, let me help you."

Her nearness had him immediately set on edge. She was so close, her skirt brushing his legs as they hung over the cot. Sucking in a breath, he watched her thread the needle on her first attempt before trying to hand it back to the nurse. "No," Tabitha began, backing away. "You should do it. I...I have to go check on Mr. Kent."

As the young woman rushed away, Thomas leaned against a post and chuckled. "Why is it that girls always run from you, Crane? Remind me to leave you behind the next time I visit a tavern."

At Thomas's words, Katrina roughly squeezed his cut, prompting him to attempt jerking it back, but she held it fast. "Ow! Katrina!"

She kept her eyes on his hand as she wiped the excess blood away. "There was something in it."

"I'm sure," he muttered with a glare.

She caught his eyes for a moment as the corner of her mouth gave way to the wisp of a smile. "It's going to hurt. I'll do my best to be gentle, but you have to remain still."

Nodding his understanding, he watched as she searched for a place to begin. A part of him was quite grateful she'd taken over, not that she was going to hear that from him. She was as skilled at nursing as she was at her craft as a witch and he knew she would take the utmost care of him. Adjusting himself, he clenched his teeth as she stuck the needle through his skin. Free hand gripping the cot as stinging pain shot through him, he searched for a distraction and found it in the steady pulsing of her chest. Why she had to be so beautiful, so blessed with such smooth skin, was beyond his reckoning. Gaze wandering up her slender neck, he thought of all the times he'd had his mouth there, teasing her skin with his lips, the way she would moan as her fingers clutched at his shoulders and hair.

Before long, she was setting the needle down and lifting his hand to check her work. "It'll be sore, but I'm sure it will heal fine."

Eyes taking in the way her lips moved as she spoke, he found himself mesmerized. That is, until he realized she'd stopped speaking and his gaze left her lips to meet her eyes, which were focused on him with an intense stare. Mentally cursing himself as a slight blush crept over him, he looked to Thomas who was doing a poor job of pretending he wasn't watching them. Clearing his throat, he stood and rather awkwardly maneuvered himself around her. "Well, thank you, Katrina. You... did a lovely job, but, uhm, we should- we should be going now."

"Anything for you," she whispered with the hint of a smile.

The look she was giving him was not lost on him. She knew exactly what his thoughts had been and she obviously was enjoying his moment of discomfort. All but running from the tent, he welcomed the fresh air outside.

"The two of you grate my nerves."

"Excuse me?" he asked, turning to Thomas with a frown.

His friend shook his head. "You should talk to her. All of this dancing around is draining on me. I can't imagine what it must be like for the two of you."

"You know I can't. We've been strictly forbidden from having any sort of lengthy contact."

His answer was spoken almost robotically. When had his denial of his love become such an immediate thought?

"I won't tell," Thomas quickly countered. "Besides, she misses you. I visit her every now and then and all she ever does is ask or talk about you. I swear she's worse than you are."

Sighing, he looked back at the tent that held his love. "No. This is for the best. There's no use in tempting fate."

"Well if you ask me," Thomas offered. "Fates been screaming for the two of you to be together for years, but you're both too busy worrying over things that may never even happen to listen."

"It's more complicated than that, Thomas," he answered tiredly. "You know that."

Thomas shrugged. "The way I see it, everyone's scared that their decisions are going to screw up the future. Whether it's their children, their marriage, their jobs, the fate of the world. But you can't let fear stop you from living." His friend fixed him with the most serious look he'd ever seen grace his face. "You only get one life, Crane. Do you really want to spend it without her?"

Kicking at the dirt beneath his feet, he muttered, "It's getting late. You should get some rest, Thomas."

With that, he began making his way through the trees. He needed more air and less of the feeling like everyone was watching him, a feeling that had become quite normal as of late. After a time, he found himself at the shore of the river. It was places like these where he always enjoyed doing his thinking. The moon reflecting off the water's surface, the sounds of nature as all activity fell still for the night. There was no one here that would interfere with his thoughts, thoughts that always somehow found their way to her.

Thomas' words were weighing on him. Of course, he wanted to be with her. He wanted it more than anything in the world, more than anything he'd ever wanted previously in his life. To be with her and their children, to have more children...he dreamed of it nightly.

Once more kicking at the dirt beneath his boots, he sighed. No. Katrina was right. It was never to be.