Chapter 3 - Ichabod's POV
At first, Ichabod reasons that acknowledging his attraction to Abbie – he's taken to calling her by her given name in his thoughts – will help him prevent the feeling from deepening.
He really should have known the folly of that line of thinking.
The more time he spends in Abbie's presence, the more he finds to admire about her. The way she wrinkles her nose when she's trying to hold back a smile at one of his witticisms makes him want to cheer when he elicits it. And he cannot help but love the surprised twinkle in her eye when he extends to her any sort of courtesy. It saddens him to think that such surprise must come from a lifetime of substandard suitors, but Ichabod takes pride, too much of it, perhaps, that he can please and impress Abbie so.
And, yet, the more his feelings for his partner grow, so does his guilt by equal measure. The facts in this case are clear: he is still bound to Katrina while there is at least the smallest possibility of rescuing her from the Purgatory in which she is trapped. And he still cares for Katrina and misses her every day, though the ache lessens with moment that passes.
So Ichabod is caught between two extremes, the joy of being in Abbie's presence and the guilt of his betrayal to his wife. He has always considered himself to be an honorable man and to be conflicted in such a way tears against the grain of that honor. In his lowest moments when the strain of it is too much, Ichabod wishes he'd never woken up from his grave at all. But then he remembers his Higher Purpose and it renews him until the mood passes.
To his relief, Abbie treats him as she ever has: a friend and a comrade-in-arms in the fight against the Apocalypse. If he ever suspected she returned his feelings, Ichabod knows he may not be able to hold himself back from openly courting Abbie and proving himself to be the worst kind of cad: an adulterer.
The stress of his conflicting emotions wears heavy on Ichabod and the tension that brews in the air does not provide any favors.
It is June, nearly 9 months since Ichabod woke up in the year 2013. In a week, it will be the summer solstice and Ichabod and Abbie have it on good authority that Moloch is planning something to coincide with that day, when the amount of supernatural power will be at one of its yearly peaks.
With Abbie and Miss Jenny in the midst of final preparations, Ichabod feels like nothing more than an interloper and the knowing looks Miss Jenny gives him whenever she catches him looking at her sister unnerve him every time. So Ichabod excuses himself from the Armory where the two sisters are knee-deep in cataloging weapons and magical artifacts and heads outside. He hopes a walk will clear his head.
The mid-June air is humid and Ichabod feels the sweat begin to bead on his skin beneath his shirt and coat as he walks down the street. He is aimless, walking nowhere in particular, simply moving to keep from collapsing beneath the weight of his thoughts.
A half an hour later, Ichabod finds himself in front of a church, and a Catholic one, no less. He is not particularly religious – to be sure, he was raised in the Anglican faith like all good men of breeding, but reason has always been his guiding light, not something he could neither see nor touch. The turns his life have taken have forced him to reconsider what he once thought superstitious and so instead of walking past, Ichabod finds himself on the path leading to the church's steps.
Ichabod pauses before he ascends to the front doors. The church is small, yet majestic still. He is used to the grand cathedrals of the continent – Notre Dame, Cologne, and the like – but there is something appealing about this edifice that draws him inward.
The inside is stained glass windows and wooden pews, a large crucifix hanging over the apse, and vaulted ceilings that swallow the sounds of his footsteps. Ichabod feels more at ease, there on hallowed ground, than he has in some time. He sits down in the front pew and folds his hands in his lap.
The urge to pray to a God he doesn't know if he entirely believes in is strong, and Ichabod is so very in need of guidance.
The sound of footsteps draws Ichabod's attention up from his folded hands and he sees the church's priest approaching. The man is perhaps in his late 40s, older than Ichabod – well, older only depending on one's definition of living – and is dressed in the black vestments and white collar of his order. Ichabod is distantly amused that black trousers and a black button-down shirt have been substituted for what once was black robes. It appears not even the church is immune to forward progress.
"I didn't mean to disturb you," the priest says, his voice calmly pitched from what must be years of practice of tending to his flock.
"You do not disturb me, Father," Ichabod says. "I merely came in here seeking solace and guidance, two things which are very much lacking in my life of late."
The priest sits down next to Ichabod and angles his body to face him. "What disturbs you, my son?"
Discomfort immediately skitters up the back of Ichabod's neck. "Oh, I am not baptized, Father."
The priest's smile cuts through Ichabod's discomfort. "Nobody's perfect," he says and the sheer honesty in the man's voice compels Ichabod to speak.
Ichabod looks down to his folded hands and takes in a deep breath before speaking words he's not dared breathe aloud before. "I fear I am in danger of betraying my matrimonial vows, Father." Ichabod glances out the corner of his eye and sees the priest wave a hand in a gesture to continue. "I've fallen in love with another woman of my acquaintance."
"I see," the priest says. From the even tone of the priest's voice, Ichabod cannot tell how harshly he is being judged. "How long has this been going on?"
Ichabod sighs. "Near on a year. I did not mean for it to happen. I feel I am the worst sort of man, but I cannot deny that I feel strongly about Abbie in a way I have never felt about Katrina. And I know not how to reconcile my feelings. My friendship with Abbie is something I do not feel I could live without, but I do not know if I can be near her without hurting Katrina in the process."
"And does Abbie return your feelings?"
"I do not believe so," Ichabod says, letting out a pitying chuckle in the process. "No, she looks upon me as a friend, nothing more. This struggle is mine and mine alone."
"And your wife? Does she suspect?"
The thought of Katrina knowing about Abbie clenches Ichabod's heart in a way that makes it difficult to breathe. "No. Katrina and I have been…apart for some time. She does not suspect my infidelity, I am sure."
The priest is silent for a few moments. "The vow of matrimony is a sacred one. You promised your wife, Katrina, undying love and fidelity."
Sharp anger unfolds within Ichabod. "The vows of matrimony also speak of honesty, do they not? If that is the case, then both Katrina and I are sinners."
"She has been dishonest with you, then."
Ichabod nods. "She did not disclose her true nature to me before we spoke our vows. It was not until we were separated that I discovered her true nature."
"And how did that make you feel?"
"I still do not know," Ichabod says. "I know the bible preaches forgiveness, but I fear such a feat is outside my reach."
"God does not demand perfection, my son," the priest says. "He simply asks you to be honest with yourself and be honest with those you care about. Practice the art of forgiveness. Admit your sins and repent for them. There is nothing more you can do."
The words are not what Ichabod wanted to hear, but he smiles at them anyway. "Thank you, Father."
The priest stands and makes to walk away, but pauses and places a hand on Ichabod's shoulder, instead. "I pray you find the peace you seek. The road ahead of you will not be easy. Go with God, my son. Go with God and he will lead you to the answers you need." The priest walks away and leaves Ichabod alone once more.
Ichabod looks up at the crucifix, at the image of Jesus hanging from the cross. Is this what you died for? So your Witness to the End Times could live trapped between his desires and his duty?
Then Abbie's voice sounds in his head. Don't worry about things you can't control, Crane. That's just inviting trouble you can't afford. Regardless of the emotional tempest that surrounds him still, Ichabod smiles. Even when she's not with him, Abbie comforts him. Somewhere along the way, his conscience adopted her voice.
Ichabod sighs and stand from the pew to begin making his way out of the church. He may never be able to change the way he feels about Abbie, no matter how much he still loves Katrina. He also may never be able to free Katrina from the Purgatory she's trapped in. Whatever happens in the coming days, Ichabod knows now that there is no point in worrying what the future will bring until it is at his doorstep.
He just wishes he knew what he wanted to happen.