Ichabod stepped into his small, unkempt garden. There were plants growing out of control, and he didn't know what half of them were. He hadn't even stepped foot in here since Katrina died. He sighed, leaning against the brick wall that incased the garden, letting his thoughts roam free. He thought of the woman he met yesterday. What was her name? Catherine. Yes. She was French, or at least knew how to speak the language. He sighed again, returning back into the cool shade of the house.
"Mr. Crane! Hurry up! We're leaving!" Jonathan called from the front hallway. Ichabod hurried to the door, grabbing a hat on the way. He followed Joseph and Elizabeth out the door and down the street to the church for Sunday Service. He only went in memory of Katrina and the events of Sleepy Hollow. Ichabod still believed in reasoning. But witchcraft was still possible. He sat down in a pew, waiting for the priest to start his long boring speech about God.
Ichabod looked about him, spotting a familiar woman sitting in the pew across from his. He smiled when she looked his way. A surprised look came across her face, but she smiled. She opened her mouth partially, as if she was going to say something, but the priest stepped up to the altar. She shut her mouth and turned her attention to the priest. Ichabod did the same, a bit disappointed. He tried his best not to fall asleep during the long duration of the service. The service ended, and the church goers filed out into the church courtyard where they lingered, the children playing.
"It is a surprise to see you here, constable," Catherine said, suddenly appearing on Ichabod's right side. Ichabod blinked and smiled.
"Well, I'm not really a religious man, but sometimes, religion is the best way to explain things," he said. Catherine smiled.
"Most constables don't come to church. They'd rather be inventing new torture devices," she said. She sighed, watching Isabelle.
"How do you know that?" he asked.
"My father was put into jail multiple times. He told me," she whispered. She closed her eyes briefly before opening them. She swayed slightly. Ichabod held her elbow.
"Catherine, are you alright?" he asked. Catherine's legs suddenly gave way and she fell. Ichabod crouched down next to her, looking around to see if there was anything that could've caused her to faint. Nothing.
"Must've been a thought," he muttered. William and Isabelle ran over.
"Sissy! Sissy! Are you alright?" they asked in unison. Isabelle took her sister's hand.
"Katie! Wake up! Please!" she said. A crowd soon formed around the fainted woman.
"Give her space to breath," Ichabod barked. Catherine stirred, her eyes cracking open. She raised a hand to her forehead.
"What h-happened?" she asked.
"You fainted," Ichabod said. He looked over her face. She frowned and sat up.
"Katie! You're alright! You scared us!" William said, hugging his sister. Catherine hugged him back and ruffled his dark hair.
"I'm sorry, mes petits. I don't know what made me do it," she said. Ichabod offered her a helping hand. She took it and stood.
"Merci," she whispered, brushing off her dress. "We should be going now."
"Wait. I'll escort you home," Ichabod said. Catherine shook her head, sending her long dark hair flying.
"No. I am fine," she said. She suddenly swayed again. "On second thought, please. I must have caught something."
Ichabod nodded and hailed a cab big enough for himself, his daughter, the Blanc's and young Masbeth. He let the ladies climb in first, and then climbed in himself after Jonathan.
"Where will you be going?" The driver asked through the open door. Catherine murmured her home address. The driver nodded and climbed into the driver's seat taking the reins. The carriage lurched forward. Isabelle and Elizabeth started to talk. Ichabod looked at Catherine, who seemed oddly pale.
"What did you see that disturbed you so greatly?" he asked quietly.
"You'll think me mad," Catherine whispered.
"I have seen many strange things in this lifetime. Tell me," Ichabod said, with a small smile.
"I am… a medium," she whispered. "I saw a woman in a beautiful blue dress that was bloodstained. She was tortured by her husband. Her husband killed her with the Iron Maiden. She was connected to you some how. Her appearance was so sudden and grotesque, I fainted."
Ichabod felt the blood drain from his face and weak kneed. He looked down at his scarred hands.
"That woman… She was… my mother," he whispered, not looking up. He heard Catherine shift and place a delicate hand on his shoulder.
"I am sorry," she whispered. The carriage suddenly hit a pot hole, causing Catherine to fall onto Ichabod. She blushed furiously as she found herself clinging to him. She pulled away and looked out the window.
"Sorry," she murmured.
"No need to apologize. Most of the taxpayer's money goes into making torture devices," Ichabod said, with a small smile.
"How true," Catherine said. The carriage stopped. The Blanc's got out and waved good-bye. Ichabod watched silently as the carriage carted them off to home.
I feel so special! So many reviews. I know I'm making Ichabod a bit more masculine in this fanfic that he is in the movie. He was kind of... girly.
Ichabod: I'm not girly.
Err. Right. You're still hawt though.