Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Harry Potter or Sleepy Hollow. All properties therein are those of their creators. I am just a writer working on my skills with characters and worlds that I love.

Note: While I love Sleepy Hollow, there are some episodes that seem to drag on a bit, and others that could be glossed over. I know that is an unpopular opinion but there it is. As such, certain events will be moved around to create a more fluid narrative. If I skim over someone's favorite episodes I apologize, but I'm here to tell the story I want to tell.

Note: I actually really like Captain Irving, so I'm making him a more current member of the group than the show did at this point.

Note: I have a few new story concepts bumping around my head, and I'm curious if there is any interest from the fans for them. So would there be any desire for a Harry Potter / Percy Jackson crossover, a Harry Potter / Downton Abbey crossover, a Zuko centered Avatar fanfic, or an evil Naruto fanfiction? If so let me know in the reviews.

Part Three - Sins Of The Past

Harry stared down the two squirming individuals sitting in front of his desk in his office at the FBI RA office. He'd just returned from a short trip and the things he saw on his drive back had him slightly… concerned.

"Would either of you like to explain to me why I saw a literal fleet of medical personnel leaving the border lines of Sleepy Hollow on my way back?" He began.

Silence reigned for a moment before Ichabod said, "Agent Potter, I assure you this was not a problem worthy of your attention at the time."

"Crane." Harry's tone made it clear he didn't buy the excuse.

"I mean it, Harry. We had everything at hand."

"Crane."

"The danger has passed now so there is no reason to get into it."

"Crane!"

"Fine!" The revolutionary man groaned. He just knew the English cowboy was going to be a bother about this. "There was a 'small' plague that took root in the town, but we very quickly excised it."

Harry stared Crane down for ten long seconds, then did the same with Abbie. Finally, he sat down behind his desk, took off his hat, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "One week." He groaned. "I was gone for one week, to redo my firearms tests at the bureau after they lost my original certifications paperwork. Do you realize what that means? I turn around for just a bit and a gods-damned plague takes effect. What's next? A wendigo coming out for a bite to eat?"

"Well this is Sleepy Hollow." Abbie muttered, only realizing she'd spoken aloud when her FBI compatriot gave an overly sarcastic laugh.

"Yeah, don't remind me that my supposedly 'sleepy' duty post has become a hotbed of supernatural activity, please." He took a moment to orient himself and then placed his hands on his desk, staring his friends in the eyes, "Next time something like this happens, you will call me. Please. I'm not being degrading or trying to take command, but I do have years of experience dealing with shit like this. You don't have to handle it alone."

Abbie nodded, "You got it, Potter. But that isn't why we're here today."

"Yeah, why would I expect you to come to my office and apologize for not letting the US government know a world ending plague was starting?" Harry groaned. That had certainly been an annoying conversation. When he'd reported to Booth what he had found out about the town, its history, the biblical witnesses, and the potential battles for the end of the world, Harry had received a second phone call from someone much higher on the federal food chain. It was actually one of the reasons his 'recertification' had taken so long. After the firearm's testing he'd been taken to a secure facility, and there he'd met with the heads of three separate federal agencies. Each one promising him the full support of themselves and the US government in this battle against the forces of hell. Apparently the supernatural was known to them and they were used to empowering certain individuals to deal with it. They only wanted him to try and keep it quiet and keep them informed. Now he had three of the most powerful people in the country on speed dial, but he planned to just let Booth work as his go-between. The man was good at that kind of thing.

For her part, Abbie had the grace to look a bit sheepish as she nonchalantly slid a folder over the desk toward him. "These are the official transfer orders. Captain Irving received orders from people in much nicer suits than his, and you've been officially placed in charge of any investigations that seem out of the ordinary. I'm to serve as your official liaison to the sheriff's office."

Harry looked the documents through for a few seconds before nodding and moving them into one of his many desk drawers. "Good. So we won't have to deal with anymore red tape or bureaucracy. It's good to see a government system actually working for once. The one in place where I grew up was absolute shit."

Crane perked up at that. "You were raised in England, were you not? Has it truly changed so much in the time I was asleep?"

Harry thought about it for a minute and shrugged. "There's cars now, electricity and all that. But otherwise the only changes you would recognize are a few less inbred nobles. People are still shitty, the government is still corrupt, though the one here is too, and the people do what they can to get by. I imagine it's similar to everywhere else."

He slid his chair back and made his way to the door, "Elizabeth?" He called to the front desk, "What's on the agenda today?"

The dark haired woman entered the room, smirked at Abbie, and said, "Per your instructions I've gone over the town records and diagrams, and I have found no less than eight perfect summoning areas. I believe we should start with paving them over as a way to limit potential incursion grounds. They will-" She was cut off by the sound of Abbie's radio going off with a burst of static.

"*zzz* All units, be advised we have a possible jumper at 5th and main *zzz*""

"That's two blocks away!" Abbie exclaimed before clicking the receiver of her radio, "Lieutenant Abbie Mills and Agent Potter enroute." She clicked off and the trio set off at once, Elizabeth falling into Harry's shadow."

They ran as hard as they could and eventually found their way blocked by a police cordon. Mills and Potter quickly showed their badges and were let through. Crane followed before the uniforms could tell him he couldn't. Ahead of them was the stoic form of Captain Irving.

"What's the situation, Captain?" Harry asked without preamble.

Showcasing once more his incredible professionalism, the man answered without questioning the Fed's presence on his scene. "A woman on the tenth floor is on her balcony, threatening to jump. We've identified her as Doctor Vega from the children's ward of Tarrytown psychiatric hospital."

Harry took note of Abbie's suddenly blank face, but carried on regardless. "Has she asked for anything? Given a reason for why she wants to end her life?"

Irving shook his head. "No to the second. But she has asked to speak to Lieutenant Mills here."

"Copy that, captain." The woman nodded before taking off for the building doors.

While his partner made her way to the suicidal woman, Harry addressed the captain again. "What else can we do?"

"I'm open to ideas. Right now we've got a line of communication going, and we're sending Abbie as she requested. But there's no other good way to get her down."

"Hm." Harry stroked his goatee before a lightbulb went off in his head. "What would you say if I told you I could ensure the fall wouldn't kill her?"

Irving gave him a pointed look. "Your… magic?"

"Still having issues adjusting to the truth of the world?" At his nod, the wizard smiled warmly, "Give it time and it'll be as normal as apple pie. In the meantime I'm here to explain things for you if you need it, but yes my magic can halt her forward momentum if she leaps."

Once more the experienced captain took the information in stride. "That would be incredibly useful. I didn't have time to tell Abbie before she ran off, but something seemed strange about that woman when she made her demand. Her voice sounded… off, almost like she was talking in her sleep. I'm not sure talking would stop her at this point. Just, make sure no one sees what you do. This town apparently has a bad enough history with witches already."

"I'm a wizard." Harry groused as he began to move off. "I have a pipe and everything." He set himself around the corner of the building, held his hand over his shadow and grimaced as Elizabeth sent up a staff of black wood from the darkness to his waiting palm. He'd lost his wand ages ago, and the knowledge still pained him, but he'd replaced it rather excellently, if he did say so himself, when he'd carved a replacement. His staff was six solid feet of ash, stained black, and covered in intricately carved runes of power. At the tip was securely held an orb of black onyx. True Harry could perform most of his magic wandlessly at this point, but more precise casting was always enhanced by the addition of a focus.

Five minutes later his preparations proved necessary as the woman in question stepped off her ledge. Harry quickly cast a levitation spell just beneath her, and smiled as her fall was halted and he gently let her skim the rest of the way to the ground. He thought that would be the end of it, so he was too surprised to act when Dr. Vega simply spun around and slammed her skull into the brick wall of her building hard enough to crack it open. "Shit." He muttered.

Ten minutes later, Abbie was finally out of the building and ready to tell them what she saw.

"What happened, Lieutenant?" Crane was the first to speak.

Abbie shook herself for a moment, then said, "It was weird. Like, really weird. The entire time it almost seemed like she was sleep walking, and her eyes were completely white."

Irving groaned, "Sounds like another supernatural event." He looked at Harry, "Seems like your jurisdiction, Agent Potter. Command is yours."

As they were speaking, the foursome had made their way to the ambulance where the body was being wheeled. at a word from the captain, they stopped and pulled the sheet back so they could examine the corps. Her eyes were indeed white, and surprisingly they melted into a pile of sand within a few seconds of their perusal. Irving instructed the medics to keep others away from the body, and the group moved off once more.

The wizard asked, "What did the good doctor say before taking her leap?"

"She said she had it coming. That 'we all have it coming'. She also mentioned my sister… I guess she was her doctor and psychologist for a while when she was a kid. It would explain how she knew who I was. She said she 'knew Jenny was telling the truth, but didn't do anything to help her.'"

"So you think your sister might know something about what happened here." Harry nodded. It made sense. "Where is she now?"

Abbie looked away, "Tarrytown Psychiatric. I… don't like to talk about it."

Harry frowned, along with Crane and Irving. "Abbie, I can understand having a rough childhood, believe me, but if your sister knows anything about what's happened here then we need to know. Even the circumstances of how she ended up in the institution could give us some info."

The lieutenant visibly struggled with herself for a few moments before caving. She suggested they talk on the drive to the psych ward, and Irving was quick to agree. The captain got behind the wheel, Crane took shotgun, and the agent and Lieutenant sat in the back as Irving pulled them out from the crime scene into traffic. The straight-laced captain was slowly getting used to how his colleagues acted. The fact that Potter had informed him of the support his actions had with the federal government had gone a long way toward mellowing him out.

Abbie was quiet for a few moments as she visibly organized her thoughts before speaking them. "My sister's name is Jenny, as I said before, and when we were younger, we spent a lot of time in foster care. We'd been to almost a dozen homes before we finally found a good one. The adults there treated us well, actually fed us, and even put up the money to send us to a good school in town. For the first time in a long time, things were going well for us. Then… we saw it."

Irving looked back at his lieutenant through his rearview mirror. "Saw what?"

"It was ten years ago now. We were fifteen and just… walking home from school. We took a shortcut through the woods, something we must have done a hundred times already by then, but that time was different. Off in the trees we saw 'something' crawling its way from the grass. It was bone white, had horns, and when it saw us it screamed, 'Come and see!'."

She fell silent again. "What happened next?" It was Harry this time.

"Nothing." Abbie muttered. "We passed out, and when we woke up again some hunter was standing over us and screaming that he'd found us. Apparently we'd been missing for a long time." She shuffled back in her seat, the stress of dredging up old memories starting to get to her. "We were questioned of course, and I told Jenny to keep her mouth shut about what we saw. I 'told' her that no one would believe us and we'd just get locked up for being crazy."

Harry sighed, "She didn't listen did she?"

"No. I told the investigators I couldn't remember anything, that I'd just gotten lightheaded in the woods and fell unconscious. They were willing to believe that. But Jenny… she told them everything. Every strange detail, and when she said I saw it too they looked to me for corroboration. I knew what the result would be, they'd lock us both up, and I couldn't lose the life I had. We'd lose our current home for sure, and who knew where they'd send a couple of crazies after we'd been sufficiently medicated. So I buckled down, denied everything again, and they took Jenny away. I thought she'd calm down after a while, wise up and admit there really hadn't been anything in the woods that day. I guess, over time I convinced myself it was nothing too."

"So," Crane broke the silence that followed, "you lied to the police, and your sister was committed against her will. I suppose it's safe to say she isn't going to be happy to see you."

"No." Abbie agreed. "She never forgave me for not backing her up that day. I tried to mend bridges several times over the years, but she never met me halfway. She just kept asking if I was finally ready to tell the truth. Eventually I learned my lesson and stopped trying. I kept track of her though. She's got a list of crimes a mile wide."

"Well, it's a good thing we have a charming Brit in the car." Harry pointed lazily at a rather indignant Crane. "Women love charming Brits. I'm sure Jenny will see him even if she won't see you."

Latching on to his brief moment of levity after discussing her past, Abbie smiled and asked, "Aren't you a Brit too?"

"Indeed, and the ladies love me. Don't they, Abbie?" He waggled his eyebrows at her beneath his hat, and the woman couldn't help but chuckle.

"Perhaps they do, Potter."

Twenty minutes later they pulled into the Tarrytown parking lot and made their way inside. Abbie asked to see her sister, but was instantly denied. Apparently Jenny had placed her on a list of people that were never allowed to visit.

"See?" Abbie waved her arm toward the locked door in exasperation. "What did I tell you? This is a waste of time."

Crane, as composed as ever, simply said, "Perhaps I'll give it a try." He walked back to the caretaker of the front desk and said, "Please inform Ms. Mills that she has a guest besides her sister present and wishing to speak to her about the death of Sheriff Corban and some strange going ons in the town of Sleepy Hollow." The nurse gave him a strange look, but nevertheless went off to relay the message.

"You really think that's gonna work?" Irving inquired, a wary look on his face.

"I do." Crane said. "For a variety of reasons. Chief among them, when I went to speak to the aid at that station I got a look at the visitor's log for Ms. Jenny. The only name on it was Sheriff Corban, and it was listed there several times over the last few months."

"What!" Abbie exclaimed. "That can't be right."

"It is, Lieutenant. My eyes are very good and I have a photographic memory. That was the former sheriff's name. That combined with her story, and his files, lead me to believe that he himself believed Jenny's words and may in fact have told her something of importance."

By the time he'd finished speaking the nurse's aid had returned and said, "The Englishman can come through. Jenny doesn't want to see anyone else."

Crane gave the others a slight shrug that he copied from Mr. Potter's repertoire of nonverbal cues, and carried on after his impromptu guide into the bowels of the mental institution. A few minutes of twists and turns later he found himself before a door marked with a nameplate denoting, Mills J. The nurse nodded his way and moved off to return to her station leaving him alone.

The time traveling soldier took a deep breath and pushed open the door. He was met with a sight he did not expect. Jenny was clearly Abbie's sister. They had the same hair, eyes, ear slopes, and jaw bones, but that was where the similarities ended. As the afore mentioned woman continued to stoically rep out pull-ups on a makeshift bar in the corner of her room, Crane had a front row seat to view them all. Where Abbie was of average height, beautiful, functional and flattering in her build, Jenny was tall, lithe, had more angular facial structure, and looked deadly as a jungle cat.

The man couldn't help but gulp, alerting her to his presence as she dropped from the wooden bar to meet his eyes. As he continued to watch she stalked over to her bed, grabbed a spare towel off the sheets and wiped the sweat off her face.

"Greetings, I am Ichabod Crane."

"Sure. You have ten minutes. You said Corban was killed? Tell me how." Her voice was slow, deliberate, and powerful.

Ichabod couldn't see any harm in beginning their dialogue this way, so he acquiesced. As succinctly as he could he informed her of the horseman, the sheriff's unfortunate run-in with him, and the subsequent revelation of the supernatural threat facing the town. When he got to the part about Harry's involvement, the woman held up a hand to stop him with wide eyes.

"You're telling me a Fed is working with you to stop an encroachment from hell, and that his superiors not only know about it, but are actively aiding him?"

"That is correct, Ms. Jenny."

Jenny blinked at the rather formal term of address, and took further note of her guest. He was in a very antiquated form of dress, with a buttoned coat, britches, and open collared shirt. The tone of his voice was cultured, deliberate, and well educated. Though the oxford base was slightly different than what she'd experienced in her travels. It was as if even his syntax's and enunciation were antiquated as well. Finally, she came to his posture. Straight back, chest slightly pushed forward, and hands held behind the back. A gentleman's posture. A slow grin made its way onto her face. Her mystery man was tall, dark, English, and mysterious. Just how she liked them.

Deciding to speak before the pause of her observations became too unbearable, she said, "Then I guess Corban was right. He always believed the supernatural existed and that the government knew about it. Something about too many strange cases getting taken up by Feds and agents that had no jurisdiction over them. I suppose that makes things easier."

"What do you mean?"

"This war won't be on me alone for once." She glared at a space on one of her shelves, and when Crane followed her gaze he took note of a framed photograph of Jenny herself. Half of it had been ripped off. It wasn't that hard to figure out who had been in it.

"Ms. Jenny, your sister works with myself and agent Potter on these cases. She told us about what you saw in the woods that day."

Jenny rounded on him so fast Ichabod was barely able to perceive the movement. "Oh so she can talk about it with you people but whenever it really counts, like when we were fifteen, or every time my psych condition came into question with my parole boards and they looked for character witnesses it doesn't matter to her?"

Ichabod raised his hands, hoping to placate the irate woman. "Very well, that is a touchy subject and I shall happily drop it. For now." When the woman voiced no complaints to that statement, he continued, "All other topics aside, I came here to talk to you about Dr. Vega." He quickly described her time on the ledge, her final words, and finally her death to the increasingly shocked woman before she finally waved him off and took a seat on her bed.

"So she believed me, the entire time." Jenny whispered before clenching her hands into fists, "and she just left me here to rot. Like everyone else." Crane stayed silent, sensing the veritable minefield before him. The woman visibly struggled with her anger for several seconds more before saying, "I haven't seen Dr. Vega since I was sixteen. But what you described, white eyes, focus on regrets, seemed to be sleepwalking… if I had to guess you're looking for a dream spirit. A mean one at that."

Crane stared at the woman, "How could you possibly know that?"

She gestured to the plain white walls around her. "You think I spent the last ten years just sitting around in here? I got released once I turned eighteen, and Corban was there waiting for me. He said he'd reviewed my story and found three other records of people saying they saw what I had. He offered me guidance, training, and the chance to fight back against the supernatural forces that had already made a mess of my life."

"He made you a soldier." Crane could hardly believe what he was hearing.

"Perhaps." Jenny shrugged. "He funded me. Got me arms and munitions training in South America, counter intelligence training in Africa, and introduced me to some of the best contacts you could ask for in the criminal underworld. I went to the places Corban couldn't, retrieved dangerous artifacts before the wrong crowd could get their hands on them, and dealt with conflicts that 'normal and civilized' people don't want to believe even exist."

"If you were so well trained and funded, then what landed you back here?" Ichabod was curious, and the stormy look gathering on the woman's face showed he was right to be.

"My 'darling' sister arrested me. I was in Kuwait, following up on a lead on one of Judas Iscariot's silver coins, when Corban sent me a message. He said things were getting hot in Sleepy Hollow and he wanted his best gun close in case the worst should happen. So I hopped on a plane and made my way back as soon as possible."

"What happened then?"

"Abbie was a cop by then. That's what happened. I was walking out of the airport, and she was apparently waiting to pick up a witness for a trial or something, and she saw me. You see, I technically wasn't supposed to leave the state as a matter of my parole from the asylum, and when the good, normal, Officer Abbie Mills saw me she drew her gun and told me get on the ground. I've been here ever since."

Crane floundered for some way to respond to what he'd just been told, and eventually settled on, "Things are different now, Ms. Jenny. Abbie has seen a great deal, and experienced more. I'm sure if you told her everything you've just told me she would-"

"She would what? Apologize? Admit she was wrong? Would she be able to say or do anything to erase the last ten years of her lies? No." She got back up and made her way back to her bar. Get out, Crane. If a dream spirit is on the rampage then you and yours are gonna wanna stay awake until you've dealt with it. The world of dreams is their domain after all. I'd recommend vast amounts of coffee." Having said her piece, the angry woman went back to her workout, and Crane hastily left the room.

The man didn't say anything until he was safely back in the car with the others. Then once they were on the road he divulged everything that he had heard, earning a great deal of gasps and awes. It was even enough for Elizabeth to bring her head out of Harry's shadow long enough to ask if he was being serious.

"Indeed I am, Miss Elizabeth."

She nodded and returned to the depths of her man's shadow. Ichabod often found himself wondering how no one else had figured out the two were together yet.

Abbie was deceptively silent as the others discussed the Mill's interview until she finally broke in with, we should probably go back to the archives. There might be information on dream spirits there."

Before anyone else could agree, her radio went off. "Calling all units! We have reports of shots fired at the Gillespie farm!"

Abbie immediately clicked her receiver, "Lieutenant Mills and Captain Irving responding!"

As the captain hit the gas she informed the others, "Garrett Gillespie is the one that found me and Jenny in the woods that day."

It took the group almost thirty minutes to make their way to the farm, and by the time they got there nearly a dozen other squad cars were already set up on the road.

Potter got out, flashed his badge at the nearest officer and said, "What's the situation?"

"By all accounts, Garrett went crazy sir. He fired off a few shots into the air and now he has his wife hostage in the kitchen. None of us have a clear shot, sir."

"You have the area completely surrounded?" The officer nodded. "Good. Has Garrett made any demands?"

"He wants to see Lieutenant Mills, sir."

Harry gave the woman a questioning glance. She didn't even need to respond. She just moved over to don a bulletproof vest and radio. "Captain Irving." The man in question came over. "Abbie is going to enter through the front, so I'll cover her from the exterior of the house. I need you to take over command here while I'm gone."

"Of course." Irving couldn't say it, but he was definitely glad the younger man was taking point on this. With his abilities he served as the best chance of getting his lieutenant out alive. But of course, his moment of relief just had to end moments later. Harry and Abbie had gone off to approach the building, and Irving's view was cut off by the arrival of one of his detectives.

"Detective Morales," Irving began, "you had better have a good reason for taking my attention away from a potentially explosive situation."

For his part, the decorated detective certainly looked uncomfortable at what he was doing, but nevertheless he answered. "I'm sorry sir, I've been trying to get a moment with you for a while now, but you've been out of the office so much I haven't been able to pin you down."

"Well you have me now. What is it?"

"It's Crane sir, and Potter. What are they doing here exactly? I mean, Potter shows up, and sure as a Fed he has a reason, but not even a week after he arrives we have reports of headless guys on horses, immolated bodies and explosions. Then he starts taking command of our crime scenes? And Crane doesn't have any paper trail at all that I've been able to find. Sir, it's not just me. A lot of officers have come to me with questions about them and I don't have any answers for them."

Irving looked around for a moment to make sure no one else was listening too close before saying, "You don't need answers, Morales. I know why they're here and what for and that should be good enough. But just to assuage the worries of yourself and others I'll say that Agent Potter is here at the will of no less than three government agencies. You don't have any reason to worry about him or Crane."

Detective Morales clearly wasn't one hundred percent convinced, but he seemed on board enough to back off for now. "Yes, sir." He backed off and Iriving took his eyes back to the house. He didn't know why, but he had a bad feeling about what was about to happen.

Inside the building, things were a little different. As she made her way through the entryway, Abbie took note of shattered mirrors, broken picture frames, and thrown over tables. Clearly Garrett had been in a rage. As she carefully made her way to the kitchen, she found herself face to face with the man in question and his captive wife. The woman told her he was crazy, that she needed to run, but Abbie wasn't listening. All she could see were the solid white eyes of the man as he held the gun barrel lazily near his chin.

"Mr. Gillespie?" She asked slowly, keeping her distance and displaying as non-threatening a posture as she could. "I'm Lieutenant Abbie Mills. You wanted to talk to me?"

Just like with Dr. Vega, his voice was light, airy, as if he were talking in his sleep. "He's coming for you next. You and Potter. He wants you to know that."

"Who?" Abbie demanded. "Who's coming? Why me and why Potter?"

"The sandman. The next time either of you falls asleep, he'll be waiting." The gun moved to his chin. "We all need to pay for our sins."

"Wait! You don't need to do this!"

Garrett's eyes found hers, "I saw that creature in the woods when I found you you know. It's horns and eyes still haunt me. I should have spoken up, but I just… couldn't. I deserve this."

He moved to pull the trigger, but before he could the gun was ripped out of his hands through the window and out into the open air. Garret immediately tried to bash his head into the counter's corner, but once more he was interrupted by a red streak of light flying from the now broken window into his chest. The suicidal man fell unconscious.

Out of the window Abbie heard Harry's voice saying, "Not falling for that twice in a row."

Later that night found the uniformed officers processing the scene, Mrs. Gillespie being taken to the hospital for her mental trauma, Garrett being taken for suicide watch, and Harry giving orders for anything 'strange' to be brought directly to him. So it was that his group ended up staring at a blood covered rag displaying a very particular symbol.

"Anyone know what this is?" He asked.

Everyone was silent for a moment before Crane raised his hand. "I can't be sure, but it looks very familiar. We should head to the archives. There is probably a record of it."

As one the group took off back the way they'd come, downed nearly a gallon of coffee in the precinct break room, and then pillaged the archive for any information they could find.

"Eureka!" Ichabod crowed as he placed a book on one of the many tables scattered around the vast archive space. "I knew I recognized it. This is the symbol of a Mohawk spirit, known as Ro'kenhronteys. According to this passage, he haunts the dreams of sinners and makes them face their lies and failures until the shame and guilt forces them to commit suicide."

Harry nodded, "That would explain was happened with Vega and Gillespie."

Abbie frowned, "And he's coming for me and Potter next." She pushed Crane aside to look at the book herself. "Does this thing say anything about how to fight it?"

"Not exactly. But I worked with many natives during my time in the war, and I am sure that if we were to find a shaman, then they could direct us to the best possible method."

Captain Irving cringed at those words. "That… might be hard to do, Crane. After the war there were a lot of hostilities built up along both sides. The American's claimed the natives territory for themselves, and the natives fought back. There aren't that many of them left here."

"What?" Ichabod looked absolutely devastated at those words. "How could that be? We were close. We fought together many times. They… they were my friends."

Harry rubbed the man's shoulder, trying to convey what comfort he could. An action that Abbie was quick to emulate. When an appropriate amount of time had passed, the wizard spoke once more.

"Finding a shaman might not actually be logistical issue. Just an annoying one." He muttered. Seeing the questioning looks of his companions, he elaborated. "The United States government knows about magic. It always has apparently. Many magic users go about their lives like everyone else, but they are still registered at birth for census purposes in case they have any latent abilities. Plus every country likes knowing what size its magical population is, or so my contacts have told me. Additionally, quite a few of them have ended up working with Macusa and the Secret Service." He pulled out his phone, "Give me a minute to make a call and I can probably have a shaman, or a skill equivalent practitioner, on a plane."

"Why would that be annoying? Having a veritable army of magical adepts at your disposal sounds quite useful?" Crane noted.

Harry's gaze grew dark, "Yeah, but I hate dealing with the magical world." He moved off to make his call, and the others looked back and forth between themselves with worried gazes. What could have happened to sour their normally sarcastic, yet playful, partner against an entire group of people? They didn't have long to think on it though before the man himself came back to them.

"I spoke to my liaison in the Secret Service. They seem to have several shamans, exorcists, and the like on staff. Go-figure. Anyway the closest one is about a two hour drive from here, so if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go work out. This precinct has a gym right?"

At Irving's nod he started toward the door, but before he could leave, Crane inquired, "This seems a poor time to absorb yourself in excess movement, Agent Potter."

The tall man looked back at him, "You already said that book has no information on how to fight this thing, so there isn't anything I can do until the shaman gets here. On that note, I need to to stay awake to keep myself from dying. Exercise tends to work well in that regard. Hard to fall asleep when you're pushing something heavy away from your body after all. So this is exactly the time to, how did you put it, absorb myself in excess movement."

Silence reigned for five whole seconds before Abbie nodded and crossed the room. "You know, a solid workout and not dying both sound pretty good right now. I'll join you." They left the others with surprised looks on their faces and wide smiles on their own.

A Short Time Later

Precinct Gymnasium

Abbie often thought that calling her precinct's gym a full gymnasium was a bit of a stretch. The word implied a vast facility with a ton of equipment. When in reality all they had was a row of dumbbells, a couple free benches, a bench press, squat rack, treadmill, and pull-up bar. It was barebones but it got the job done. Plus, she didn't think Potter would have liked to find any fancy pants equipment here. He gave her the impression of a man used to working with what he had, and not wanting to waste effort wishing for more.

So she wasn't surprised to find him already doing dumbbell curls by the time she made it into the room. What did stop her cold though, was his appearance. The man had changed into sweat pants and a grey tank top that exposed his arms, shoulders, and parts of his chest. It was enough to show her two very important things. First, he had a muscled yet lean physique that was clearly built for power. Second, his arms and chest were completely covered in tattoos. From her limited experience, the majority looked like runes and symbols, except for one area.

Not able to help herself she walked over to him, began to stretch, and asked, "Who are Caroline and Erza?" Their names were tattooed in the visible space over his heart. Whenever his arms curled his shirt moved just enough to display them.

Harry stopped moving, the dumbbells hanging limp in his hands as a look of unadulterated sadness and loss came across his face. It only lasted for a moment or two before he gulped and turned away to rack his weights. For a moment the Lieutenant didn't think he was going to answer, but like so many times before he surprised her.

"This Earth isn't the only one. Did you know that?" Harry muttered, suddenly surprised he hadn't already covered this with the woman. "This isn't even the only physical plane with intelligent life. They all exist together, inhabiting the same space but separated by differing wave lengths of reality, thought, and active consciousness. I was born on this one, but through a series of events I'm not ready to go into just yet, I ended up in a different world entirely. The place I arrived was called Colombia. A city in the sky. It was there that I met Elizabeth. She was a prisoner, an experiment, able to travel between the folds of reality at will. I saved her life, freed her from her cage, and after she insisted on traveling the worlds with me on my journey to get home."

Abbie could hardly believe what she was hearing. Indeed, years of built up cynicism and logic made her want to throw out everything the man before her was saying. But then she reminded herself that she was currently working to stop the literal apocalypse with a time traveling revolutionary soldier and a wizard at her side. What was alternate realities on the scale of strange she currently found herself living in? So instead of arguing she simply finished her stretches, leaned against the squat rack and waited for Harry to continue. She didn't need to wait long.

"We fell in love. How could we not? Our shared travels, struggles, distrust of authority figures, similar childhoods… we were a match made in heaven."

For some reason she could not explain, Abbie was… disappointed to hear that this man was married. But she guessed she should have known. Even if he didn't wear a ring, he and Elizabeth had seemed very close in the interactions she had seen.

"She became my first wife."

Abbie blinked at that. "First? But she's still alive."

Harry nodded, still not looking at her. The entire time he'd been speaking his eyes had remained on the weights. "You have to understand, I did not have a good childhood. I was abused, alone, separated from others, often times quite forcefully. By the same token, Elizabeth was completely isolated in a controlled environment so her captors could monitor her development as a test subject. We were completely starved for affection, love, and human contact. We found it in each other, but over time we discovered there was room in our hearts for others as well. It was blind luck that we eventually ended up in a world where multi-relationships weren't exactly uncommon."

Abbie was enthralled by what she was hearing. It was almost as if the plot of a real life soap opera was being spun before her eyes. And the knowledge that he was willing to be with multiple partners was rather fascinating. "Where?"

"The world was, ironically enough, called Earth Land, and we arrived in a country called Fiore. It was there that we made the acquaintance, and eventually earned the love, of a mighty warrior mage named Erza Scarlet. Or rather, Erza Potter. She took my name after the wedding."

"She didn't mind that you were already married?"

"As I said before, Fiore wasn't unused to such arrangements. But… Erza's background was surprisingly similar to our own, and just like us she craved close relationships and love. We provided both, and she returned our feelings ten-fold." He turned his head slightly as if in thought, and Abbie believed she could just make out the beginnings of a smile on his face. "It was the funniest thing. Most of the time she was so cool, collected, and stern. But give her a rose, offer to dance, or put a slice of strawberry cake in front of her and she melted into the cutest woman you ever did see."

He sighed, and the melancholic look returned to his face. "Shortly after we wed, our little trio carried on. We visited several new worlds. Fought in some battles, saved a few people here and there, even averted a couple genocides if you'd believe it. But then, we came to a very specific earth. For a while I even thought it was the one I'd come from, though that was easily disproven by the lack of a magical government."

Abbie was further intrigued by this bit of news. "What happened on this earth?"

"We met a vampire by the name of Caroline Forbes, and eventually our family gained a new member." He sighed and closed his eyes as he forced himself to remember, "Caroline was… blonde. She was bright, bubbly, and she spent so many days and nights teaching all of us how to really 'enjoy' life instead of just living it. To her credit, she was a lot more open to our relationship than we thought she'd be. I guess, in her own way she felt pretty isolated too."

The pieces were starting to fall into place now, and Abbie found her regard and sadness for the man before her growing. "They're…. dead, aren't they. That's why their names are on your heart and Elizabeth's isn't."

Harry shuddered, but nodded nonetheless as he moved to sit on the bench press. "Yeah. Elizabeth tended to stay safe in my shadow. They didn't." Without another word he leaned back on the bench and started repping out sets. Abbie silently moved behind him to offer support and a spot on the bar.

The Archive

Having received a text that the shaman was entering the building, Abbie and Harry had quickly freshened up, changed, and made their way back to join the others. For a moment the Lieutenant found herself wondering where the cowboy was getting all his clothes, but then she remembered the man could fit an entire person and a shit-load of C-4 in his shadow. For all she knew he had an entire house in there.

For his part, Harry was just glad the woman wasn't bringing up what they'd spoken of before. Talking about his wives was not an easy thing for him to do at the best of times. But he was nothing if not practiced in burying his emotions, so when the others greeted him along with their guest, he simply smiled and shook hands with the newcomer.

"Agent Potter, thanks for coming on such short notice."

"Clark Olafson." The blond man said. He was tall, but still needed to look up to meet the Englishman's eyes. Though his frame was wider and he maintained a well groomed and braided beard.

Crane gave the man a wary look. "I'm sorry, sir, but I was under the impression we were to receive a Native American shaman? You… don't seem to match that description."

Contrary to Crane's awkward observation, the big man just started guffawing out laughter as he slapped the thinner man on the shoulder. "Aye, you were. But at the last second our resident shaman got redirected to deal with the demonic possession of a senator's daughter. I won't tell you who, but let's just say I wouldn't recommend a vacation to Nevada for a while. Anyway, I'm a skald. Typically my kind work in the same way you 'witnesses', or Christian prophets do. We observe and document supernatural phenomenon. That being said, my mother was a witch, and I myself am an avid practitioner of Seidr. Trust me, I'll be able to get the job done."

Abbie broke into the conversation then. "That's good then. What do we need to do? Is there a special ceremony or holy weapon we need to get ready?"

Clark blinked, looked ready to start laughing again, but then he realized the officer was being serious. "Uh, no. No. This isn't a full scale exorcism or incursion into the spirit realm. Such things would require much preparation, research, and a great deal of risk as you would be vulnerable in the spirit's world. This situation is far more simple. You see, we know what is haunting you, and we know its name. Thus, we should be able to summon and trap it. Think of a genie in a bottle, but we are going to stuff that genie into it then toss that bottle into the Mariana trench."

Abbie smiled, "I like the sound of that. How do we start?"

Clark took a jar of salt from one of his many pockets and began to pour it on the ground as he moved about the open floor space. "There are three parts. First, the invocation. I will make a connection with this spirit and force it into our presence. Do not worry, it will be safely contained as long as no one here breaches the barrier." As he spoke, his captive audience could see he'd outlined the symbol of their spirit contained within the wide circle of his salt. "Second, the battle of wills. This spirit is an avatar of retribution. It wants you to face your lies and regrets, so you must acknowledge them to its face, and claim your faults for yourself. Own them, and he will no longer have the power to use them against you. Third, the sealing." He looked at Harry, "Once you have broken its hold over you the being will be vulnerable enough to be contained in a material object as long as I maintain the barrier. You two are what is holding it here to begin with after all. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, and Clark smiled wide. An expression that seemed to be his default setting. "Very good then. Is everyone ready to begin?" The only one that seemed at all hesitant was Irving, but after a couple moments he managed to ready himself enough to nod his own acquiescence. "Then sit before the circle, my chant will start in a moment."

The others did as instructed, and a moment later they were witness to a truly unique sight, a user of Seidr in motion. Clark began to chant words in a foreign language that only Ichabod was able to identify as ancient nordic. His pace began slow, but quickly began to rise in volume and intensity, and as it did the very air around him began to crackle with power and light and his hair braid began to dance in an unseen breeze until finally his eyes snapped open, displaying pure blue electricity in his gaze as he exclaimed, "Ro'kenhronteys!" Immediately the space within the salted circle filled with acrid smoke, enough to surely consume everything in the archive if released, but the northman's barrier held, and the roiling mass of darkness could do naught but bash against the invisible walls of its cage for several minutes before slowly condensing down on itself to reveal the form of an unnaturally tall, pale, stick thin figure with no mouth. It was shirtless yet wore a ceremonial high skirt around its waist. The being was staring straight at Abbie.

"Alright," Clark had a bit of sweat on his forehead by then, and the electricity had left his eyes, but the power in his voice had not lost its intensity. "Now we are at the second stage. Abbie, own your guilt."

The woman in question stood tall and stared the creature in the black expanse it called eyes. "Ten years ago I saw a demon in the woods. It spoke to me and then disappeared. I lied to the police, to the psychiatrists, to my sister, and even to myself. I lied to protect myself! I was a coward, and I betrayed my sister. I turned my back on her when she needed me and I will not do it again. I own my lie." The spirit shuddered, jerked bodily in place for several moments, and then snapped to attention in front of a now standing Harry.

For his part, the wizard only stood in place for a while before finally shuddering as he began. "I wasn't there to save my third wife, Caroline. When she needed me, when that monster Klaus showed up in Mystic Falls and decided he wanted more than she would ever give him, I was somewhere else, helping her friends in their time of need. I should have made another plan. I shouldn't have left her on her own as I did. Her blood is on my hands. I know that. I own that. You cannot use my guilt against me, spirit!"

Ro'kenhronteys released a keening wail (not so little a feat for a creature without a mouth) and fell limply to its knees. As it did, Clark started up with his chanting once more, only this time when he reached his crescendo, he placed an open urn before the circle and screamed, "Jeg binder deg!" The spirit screeched anew, and before the eyes of the astonished group, it reverted once more to smoke before its entire being seemed to siphon into the freshly presented container before the big man slammed the lid on top of it. Almost immediately he pulled out a large roll of duct tape and began wrapping it around the object, severely securing the lid in place until he was satisfied.

"Whew, the creature is safe." Clark had barely managed to finish his words before Harry was bolting out of the room, a worried Elizabeth staring after him.

"Is he gonna be alright?" Irving asked. "Because I already have enough problems without our resident magical badass going off the rails."

"Talking about Caroline is especially hard for him." Elizabeth said, a slow tear working its way down her face. "What happened to her was not his fault, but he can never stop blaming himself."

Abbie stepped up, "I'll go check on him."

"Lieutenant, he didn't look like he wanted to talk right now-"

"I'm not going to talk to him, Crane." Abbie cut him off. "I'm going to be there for him. He's our friend and he's hurting, and sometimes all a friend really needs is someone to be there for them when they are in pain." Having said her piece, Abbie took off after the man, never noticing the small smile growing on Elizabeth's face as she watched her leave.

The world hopper had a feeling that spending more time with Abbie was exactly what her Harry needed.