Disclaimer: Sleepy Hollow belongs to Washington Irving and FOX
Chapter 4 - Abbie's POV
The world will never know how close it came to ending on June 21st, 2014. And Abbie's not sure if she can keep doing this for another 6 plus years.
The wreckage of the battle in the forest lies all around them. Abbie takes a moment to catalog her injuries while she catches her breath. She immediately winces when she draws air deeper into her lungs. Right, cracked ribs. Excellent. Abbie moves on, noting the gash on the outside of her upper thigh and the claw marks on her forearms. Looks like she's wearing long sleeves for a few weeks. And in July. Just fucking great.
With her own injuries noted, Abbie looks around the battlefield, heart in her throat, for Jenny and Ichabod. On the other side of the forest clearing, Abbie spots Jenny leaning against a tree. Jenny gives her a thumb's up and a weak smile, but otherwise makes no move away from the tree.
Jenny's accounted for and Abbie looks around for Ichabod. She almost panics for a moment when she can't find him. Oh god, he can't be dead, he just can't….
Then, the smoke clears from the center of the battlefield and Abbie spots him, kneeling on the ground. Ichabod's covered in soot and the ground around him is burnt and cracked.
Abbie approaches him with caution. There's something about the curve of his shoulders that sets off warning bells in her mind. "Crane?" she asks when she's close enough. She edges around him so she can see his face. The look she finds there is an empty one, numbed and shocked. Despite the pain in her leg and ribs, Abbie kneels on the ground in front of him. She hesitates for a moment before reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. "Ichabod," she says in a rare use of his given name. "What happened?" She makes sure to keep her voice soft. She doesn't want to shock him more than he already is.
It takes a couple of seconds for Ichabod to respond, but he raises his head to look at her. Abbie gasps at the look in his eyes. Edging around the shock, she sees the beginnings of sorrow, deep and cutting, boring into her. "I-I do not know," he says just above a whisper. His voice is hoarse, like he's been screaming.
Abbie really wishes they hadn't gotten separated in the heat of battle because she's not sure how coherent Ichabod's going to be right now. "Ichabod…."
Now that he's focusing on her, her use of his given name seems to jolt him. Into what, Abbie doesn't know. "Katrina. She – Moloch was close to success and she did something, a spell. She said it was the only way, that she could not let the demon go free when she had the power to stop him. She said Moloch drew power from her and that if she could sever their connection, his efforts would be thwarted. I knew what she meant, but I could not stop her." Ichabod pauses and he looks down at the ground, slack-jawed. "She is gone, Abbie, lost to me forever."
Abbie feels the words like a punch to the chest, hearing him use her first name notwithstanding. And before she can say anything, Ichabod leans forward and rests his forehead against her shoulder. Abbie freezes, unsure what to do, as Ichabod grabs her upper arms and fists the fabric of her sleeves in his hands. After a moment, Abbie realizes that his shoulders are shaking and, even though no tears soak through her shirt, he is sobbing. Slowly, she leans into him to keep from letting his weight push her to the ground and her arms come up around him in return.
Out of the corner of her eye, Abbie notices Jenny coming up to them. She's grateful when Jenny says nothing, but just kneels next to them and lets Ichabod have his moment.
Katrina's dead, her soul lost, sacrificed to keep Moloch from having his victory this day. Abbie doesn't know how to feel about that. She never got the chance to get to know Katrina very well, so most of the sadness she feels is for how lost and broken Ichabod is. But a tiny part of her, a very tiny, tiny part, but still notable, is glad that she's not lusting after a married man anymore. It makes Abbie feel sick that she thinks that – like what kind of horrible person thinks that when her best friend is inconsolable from the loss of his wife? So Abbie ignores it and folds the shameful feeling into the same pocket where she keeps her feelings for Ichabod most of the time.
Abbie ignores the strain in her ribs from holding Ichabod up right and when she feels him begin to slump even further against her, she turns and looks at Jenny. "Help me get him up," she says in a quiet voice.
Jenny comes over and, with a gentle touch Abbie wouldn't normally think her capable of, wraps her hands around Ichabod's upper right arm. To his credit, Ichabod only lets out a low groan and lifts his weight off from Abbie enough so she can get up and grab his left arm. It speaks to how exhausted and shell-shocked he is that he doesn't even bother with his usual, flustering apologies.
Eventually, Jenny and Abbie get Ichabod back to the cabin and into bed. With Ichabod tucked in, Jenny and Abbie begin the task of tending to their wounds out in the living room. "Pants off," Jenny says, eyeing the nasty wound on Abbie's leg.
"What about you?" Abbie asks. She kicks off her sturdy hiking boots, the best thing she could think of to wear for averting the Apocalypse, before working on the fly of her ruined jeans.
"Mostly scratches. Sprained my knee, I think, close to the end there. Saw you go up against some sort of hellhound."
Abbie snorts before she winces at the feel of denim stiff with blood pulling away from a swollen wound. And she can't help the little whimper of pain that escapes as she lifts her leg to push her jeans the rest of the way down. She shoots Jenny a look. "Some sort of, is right," she says. "Scratched up my arms pretty bad and one of its talons gave me this thing on my leg." "This thing" turns out to be a 3 inch long gash that's covered in dirt and coagulated blood and a little ragged around the edges.
Jenny winces as she sits on a small stepstool next to where Abbie sits on the one the couch, clad in nothing more than her tee shirt, socks, and panties. "This is gonna leave a nasty scar."
Abbie looks down at her right leg and sighs. "Yeah, I figured. Guess my bikini days are over."
That earns Abbie a grin and a raised eyebrow. "Have you ever had any bikini days?"
Abbie chuckles a little. "Not really."
"Then you're not missing anything."
Abbie's eyes water as Jenny cleans the muck out of her wound and she looks away when Jenny pulls out a needle and thread. "You have done this before, right?" She wishes she could keep the tremble out of her voice, but she's not looking forward to what's about to happen.
"I know what I'm doing," Jenny says. Moments later, Jenny's pushing the needle through Abbie's flesh and Abbie grips the edge of the sofa cushion so hard, she's surprised she's not cutting holes into it in the shape of her fingernails. The endorphins hit and the pain settles to a cringing buzz. This is when Jenny chooses to speak again. "So, what happened to Crane?"
The question brings a hitch to Abbie's breath and her injured ribs scream in response. "His wife is gone. Sacrificed herself to stop Moloch. Ichabod wasn't overflowing with details, but it's clear he saw it happen."
Jenny looks up at Abbie with one raised eyebrow. "So, she's-"
"Dead, gone forever," Abbie says.
There's a pause, a telling one. "Man, that sucks," Jenny says with a shake of her head. "How do you feel about that?"
"Sad?" Abbie sighs. "I think…I dunno." She looks over at the closed door to the bedroom, where Ichabod's hopefully sleeping. "I don't feel like a good person, right now."
Thankfully, Jenny understands. "Give it time," she says. "Everything'll work out."
Together, they finish patching each other up. Abbie hands Jenny the keys to her car. "Could you get my duffle out of the trunk? I have some spare clothes in there."
"Sure thing," Jenny says.
And when Jenny returns with a black duffle and tries to give Abbie back her keys, Abbie shakes her head. "Nah, you take them. You can crash at my place."
Jenny cocks her head to one side. "What about you?" she asks.
"I'm going to stay here," Abbie said, jerking her head in the direction of Ichabod's bedroom. "In case he needs anything. Besides, I don't know if he's up to making himself food."
"All right," Jenny says with a smile. "Thanks."
Before Jenny can move to walk away, Abbie steps forward and engulfs her little sister in a hug. She waits until Jenny hugs her back and is aware that they're both trembling. "I love you, Jenny-bean."
Jenny's breath hitches and Abbie just holds her tighter. "I love you too, Abbster." Nicknames their mom gave them when they were kids make her feel closer to her sister than ever and all Abbie knows is that she never wants to let Jenny get so far away again.
They stay like that for several moments, clinging to each other before, as if by telepathy, they pull apart. "See you tomorrow?" Jenny asks.
Abbie notices, but pretends not to, the glassy sheen in Jenny's eyes; she's sure her own eyes are suspiciously shiny as well. "Yeah, not too early, though. Noon?"
Jenny nods. "Sure."
When Jenny's gone, Abbie pulls a pair of grey sweats out of her duffle and slips them on, careful of the large bandage on her thigh. She grabs a large afghan off the back of an armchair and curls up beneath it on the couch, careful not to jostle her ribs too much. Her eyes slip shut. God, she's tired. The sun's not entirely set yet, but Abbie feels like she could sleep for years.
The feel of tears curling down her cheek and soaking the pillow is what alerts Abbie that she's crying. The realization breaks the floodgates and Abbie has to bury her face in the pillow to muffle her sobs. She can't stop shaking and can't keep her emotions on an even keel.
Her crying slows and her head pounds, her throat sore, but Abbie stays put.
Eventually, she falls asleep, face still half buried in the pillow, wondering what tomorrow is going to bring.