The baseball field was quiet and somber at night, swallowed almost whole by long shadows reaching out like eerie fingers. Not much could be made out – save for a speck of white here and there where the bases were. Gone were the laughter and squeals of playing children, the sharp crack of bats and the festive ire of an umpire. At night, it seemed depleted of its energy and vigor and was simply a darkened patch of grass filled with nothing but the remnants of memories; hollow and dim. Ichabod breathed in the musky smell of earth and grass as he wandered past home plate on his way to the bleachers.

Halfway there, he glanced skyward and saw that the moon, tinged slightly with orange, hung low and huge in the night sky. A hunter's moon, his father would have called it; a harbinger of autumn. Ichabod stared up at it and before he could stop it, he wondered if Abbie could see the same moon from Purgatory?

He felt tears threaten at the thought of her and halted his steps. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing deeply. How could it be a hunter's moon already and still no sign of her? Not one clue. He could not imagine the torture she was going through in Purgatory all this time. What was Moloch doing to her? What was he making her believe? What was she becoming? Did she even remember who she was and that he loved her?

Four months since he had left here there a second time! Four months since he had awakened in the hospital to find only Jenny and Katrina standing over him. Ichabod pressed his fingertips into eyes, rubbing, and tried to calm himself. If he didn't stop the emotions from overwhelming him, he knew very well where it would lead: a complete breakdown into endless tears and wracking sobs. It had happened more times than he cared to count.

Ichabod opened his eyes and willed his feet to move – to start walking again – intent on his destination. He finally reached the bleachers and crawled beneath them, finding it a struggle, as always, to contort his lanky frame to fit. Once there, he sank down, feeling the dewy grass soaking the knees of his trousers. He made sure his back was to the field. He had learned early on that looking at the field only brought up memories that were too powerful to control. Instead, he closed his eyes and reached into his pocket, pulling out Katrina's amulet. Even though it had originally belonged to her, he now only associated it with Abbie. He was uncertain how it was possible, but when Jenny had found him in that coffin, somehow he had the amulet clutched in his hand. Now he looked upon it and allowed his feelings for Abbie to flow from deep within himself.

If he was quiet he knew he would feel her tiny spark hammering against his heart; steel striking flint. It was always there when he was at his lowest and needed comfort; just as she had always been. He focused on just breathing and finally let her face fill his mind, his breath hitching when he saw her in complete.

"Abbie…" Her name slipped from his lips in a sob. He missed her more than the earth would miss the moon; much more than he had ever missed Katrina when they were separated. It was a different kind of missing: an absence of a part of one's soul. He could feel the anguish rise within him, threatening to snuff out that little spark of her as it rested near his heart, when suddenly, a rush of warmth spread over him. As always, that bit of her soul knew when he was at his breaking point and moved to protect and envelop him in its strength and tranquility. That spark grew quickly into a bright ember and warmed his frostbitten heart with her very essence. It was almost as if she were there with him. He could almost feel her small hand on his shoulder, always offering friendship, support and what he now knew was love.

Almost.

He shuddered and wondered if he would ever feel Abbie touch him again in the mortal world. Four miserable months had gone by without one word from her. Not a message or even a fleeting glimpse through a mirror. There had been nothing since that first night in the hospital when he had seen her sitting at the kitchen table of the dollhouse; Moloch looming in the background. He could not erase the terrified look on her face from his memory. It haunted him whenever he tried to sleep, making sleep nearly impossible, and that is why he inevitably ended up at the baseball field every night, where he could feel close to her and try to find some measure of peace.

Since he had awakened in the hospital, he and Jenny had managed to forge a new relationship born out of their mutual desire to rescue Abbie. At first, Jenny had been unable to look at him without anger and betrayal burning in her eyes. In her mind, he had abandoned Abbie in favor of bringing Katrina back to the mortal world. He believed that what finally allowed her to trust and believe in him again was that he never denied his grave mistake. Instead he simply told her over and over that he wished he could take back that decision a thousand times and that he had discovered in Purgatory that he loved Abbie more than anything else. He told her enough about what happened when he was in Purgatory that she believed he did not want to leave Abbie that second time. Abbie forced him to go because she thought she was making him happy and now Ichabod had to live with her sacrifice.

Once their friendship was stitched up and on the mend, Jenny had suggested that they should work together to try and find a way to release Abbie from Purgatory. They spent every waking moment in the Archives. There was nowhere else to turn. Henry had never resurfaced since he had revealed himself as the Horseman of War and Katrina's powers were meek at best and her focus wanting. So, Ichabod and Jenny combed through every book and scrap of paper and had exhausted every resource trying to find a way to get Abbie out of Purgatory. They had spent countless hours in the Archives researching possible "loopholes" and had found none. The only thing of any import that they had discovered – hidden away in one of Corbin's books – was that Moloch needed "the soul of a Witness" to complete his journey into the mortal world. Ichabod knew without any doubt that Abbie would never allow such a thing and so he was terrified that he would never see her again.

During this time, Ichabod's health – mental and physical - had steadily worsened and the pain of being without Abbie nearly incapacitated him. He found he was unable to sleep for more than 30 minutes at a time and barely able to find the desire to eat. Jenny usually forced some food into him every day, but he only ate to appease her. Ichabod remembered asking Abbie in Purgatory how it could possibly be right for them to be separated when it would cripple their hearts and now he found himself living out that exact fear. He felt like a hollow shell simply going about the motions of living. There was no desire or thrill inside; no real life.

"Crane, I'm worried about you," Jenny had said to him two months after he had left the hospital. They sat in the Archives pouring over large tomes and her eyes had roamed over his entire frame, head to boots. "I know you miss Abbie. So do I. And I know you love her, but this is more than a broken heart. It's a physical debilitation."

He had looked at her sideways, one eyebrow raised and said, "I assure you I am well, Miss Jenny. I will not let you down should it come to a physical confrontation."

"That's not what I'm worried about, Crane, and you know it," she had replied, sighing. "The rate you're going, you won't be alive when we DO get Abbie back. You gotta pull yourself out of this tailspin."

"I told you before that I was not certain I would survive without her," he had answered softly, the pain slicing at his heart mercilessly. "However, I am trying to hold on."

Jenny had reached over and covered his hand with hers. "Try harder, Crane. For Abbie."

He had promised he would try, and so began their routine. During the day, he and Jenny worked together in the Archives, while at night, Jenny would retire to try and get some rest and Ichabod would go to Corbin's cabin, ostensibly to do the same. Katrina had stayed there for a fortnight upon her return, but she was no longer there and for that, Ichabod was grateful, for he could no longer bear even the sight of her.

Soon after he had escaped the hospital, Katrina had tried to reconcile with him, but she had quickly ascertained it was hopeless. Ichabod knew from the moment he had awakened in the hospital that his heart was completely given over to Abbie and there was no longer any room for Katrina, except possibly as a friend. He had tried to treat her as an ally in his and Jenny's fight to save Abbie, but a month into their search it had all gone to pieces.

They had found nothing of any import and Jenny was worried that the trail was growing cold. So, in a moment of desperation, Ichabod played the card he had been holding close to his vest since Katrina had come back and asked her to try and return to Purgatory; to exchange places with Abbie as had been planned.

But Katrina had flatly refused, saying it was no longer possible because of what Abbie had done. She had insisted that when Abbie made her decision to give Ichabod her mortal strength, she had sealed her fate. There was no way around it, nor a way to reverse it. She could not simply exchange places with Abbie again and she did not believe that Abbie could ever leave Purgatory. Ichabod remembered staring at her and never feeling so cold in his entire life. He had always thought Katrina a kind and caring woman, but there had been no emotion in her eyes when she had spoken of Abbie's plight. Looking into her green cat's eyes, any small scrap of sentiment he had still felt for her had died in that moment; trampled by her utter callousness. In a desolate rage, he had demanded that she remove herself from his presence and told Jenny that he wished to never speak to her again. He had barely been aware of Jenny quickly rushing Katrina from the Archives.

Ichabod only remembered the vagaries of Katrina's life after that moment. He supposed Jenny had told him, but he had barely been listening. Those conversations were merely the blurred background strokes in a portrait where Abbie was the sharply drawn subject.

Apparently, even though Jenny had held a great dislike for Katrina initially, in the end, she had taken pity and helped her rent a room at the local motel and got her a job at an eating establishment as a barmaid of a sort. He also recalled Jenny mentioning that Katrina had been reticent at first, but soon the utter boredom of life without purpose had her climbing the walls and she agreed.

Ichabod had not seen Katrina since and had no desire to do so. Just the sound of her name and all he could picture was Abbie being tortured by Moloch and screaming his name. Ever since she had rejected his idea of her returning to Purgatory, the very sight of Katrina only reminded him that Abbie was there in her stead and he had been the one to help place her there. A decision he feared would haunt him forever.

So at night, he was almost always unable to find any rest and inevitably, he would set out on foot to the baseball field – "their field." It was there that he felt closest to Abbie and the place where the memento of her that he carried secreted away inside could commune with him most easily.

An owl hooted in the distance, and Ichabod started, brought out of his reverie. He opened his eyes and was not altogether surprised to see Miss Jenny standing in front of him. After all, she seemed to come here most every night to collect him and return him to the cabin.

"Crane…" Her tone was admonishing.

He sighed deeply, annoyance hiding behind his breath. "Miss Jenny, it is not your responsibility to seek me out every evening and return me to my humble abode."

Jenny raised her eyebrows and bent down, hands resting on her knees, trying to make eye contact. "Maybe I wouldn't have to, Crane, if you stopped hiding under—"

"I am NOT hiding," he interrupted, his voice sharp, eyes focused on a point in the distance. "I am…meditating."

She smirked. "Okay, I wouldn't have to come and get you if you stopped meditating under the bleachers in the middle of the night. I don't think that qualifies as normal behavior. If Abbie were here, she'd never let you…"

Jenny trailed off, apparently realizing her error and her face twisted into a painful mask, eyes shining with tears. She stood back up, running her hands over her face quickly and exhaling a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I'm just…worried about you. I feel like it's my job to look out for you while…" She broke off in half of a sob and took a deep breath. "You know…"

Ichabod looked at Jenny, trying to be so brave in the face of agony and suddenly felt a great kinship with her. Abbie's captivity was traumatic for both of them. They were both navigating the same disaster in different ways, but still, there was a camaraderie born of a shared journey. They were not much different than soldiers surviving a war together.

"I understand, Miss Jenny. I do not mean to cause you any unease."

Jenny nodded. "Anyway, I came out here for another reason tonight. I've got some news."

At her words, Ichabod scrambled out from under the bleachers as quickly as his height would allow and tried to fix his appearance, smoothing out his coat and trousers. "Have you found something? Is there a way to reach her?"

Jenny's face fell and she looked away for a moment and that's when Ichabod knew that whatever she was about to tell him was nothing good. In fact, he was almost certain it would be something quite awful. He felt as if his heart seized in mid-beat, its next actions waiting on her words.

"No, no, I wish that were the case. I got a call tonight from the new Sheriff. Her name is Reyes. Anyway, she told me that as of tonight, they are officially calling off their search and rescue operation for Abbie."

She looked back up at him, and he knew she was waiting to see what affect her words would have. But he found that what she had told him was not as bad as he had been expecting and his heart went on beating. What did the police search for Abbie truly have to do with them? They were looking for her in warehouses and rivers and culverts and she was in none of those places. She was not in the mortal world, but only he and Jenny knew that. If they called off their search, it did not impact his and Jenny's work. He looked back at her placidly and told her as much.

She nodded, her eyes sad. "There's more," she said, her voice hesitant and wobbly. "Sheriff Reyes isn't just calling off the search. She's declaring what happened to Abbie an 'accidental death,' Crane. I guess she's being pushed to explain her disappearance somehow. You know, public relations and all. It'll be handed over to detectives. So, what this means is that, as far as Reyes is concerned, Abbie is…dead."

Ichabod felt like his world had been knocked off its axis and everything around him spun and careened wildly; a morbid kaleidoscope. His eyes swam shut as he fought to maintain his balance. Instantly, he felt a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Take it easy, Crane. Just breathe."

Jenny's voice was soft but firm and he latched onto it – like a rock in a raging river – and tried to keep his head above water. He was horrified at the idea that everyone else would think Abbie was dead. The piece of her inside him wailed at the very notion, crying out in agony; its warmth frozen over into ice in moments and he felt his heart and soul doing the same.

"I wish you had never found me; never saved me from the coffin," he said, opening his eyes to look down at her brokenly. He leaned on her for support so his knees would not give out.

"Crane, you don't mean that." Her voice was rough with shock.

He nodded. "I do. I do mean it. I wish I had died before you found me so that I could be with Abbie. You've said it yourself I am…withering without her – both in body and mind. I shall never forgive myself for leaving her there to suffer and be tortured by that demon, simply due to my selfish wish to save Katrina."

Jenny touched his hand. "You told me yourself you didn't want to leave her."

"The second time," he amended. "But the first time, I never even looked back at her. I simply made her an empty promise I hoped I could keep and took Katrina's hand and walked through the portal. I was so blinded by my need to try and do right by Katrina that I willingly stranded Abbie there and I shall live in torment the rest of my life because of my folly. And you wonder why I cannot be in Katrina's presence? Katrina is a permanent reminder of my betrayal of Abigail. The mere sight of her sickens me! She is here because Abbie is not and that is a violation of all that is good and right."

Jenny took hold of his hand then, her grip firm and looked right into his eyes. "Now you listen to me, Crane! None of that matters now! Nothing Reyes does matters. We have got to regroup and try and find Abbie, no matter—"

Whatever she was going to say next was cut off by a thunderous crash and the sounds of shattering glass from the middle of the field. They were both knocked to the ground from the force and when Ichabod opened his eyes, he was surprised that all he saw was the darkness of night. He had been expecting a fire of some sort or rubble lying all around them. They had their back to the pitcher's mound and did not see what caused the noise. Ichabod scrambled to his feet, helping Jenny as best he could and they both took off running towards the direction of the noise.

As they came around the bleachers, it was obvious to Ichabod that there was a body lying in the field between third base and home plate. He could not imagine how it had gotten there. The night was dark and he could only make out the silhouette, but the body was small and feminine and somewhere deep inside that tiny speck of Abbie flashed to life and cried out.

He knew it was her.

He sprinted the last few yards and fell to his knees on the ground next to her, turning her over. What he saw terrified him and he felt his body go ice cold – as if he had jumped into a winter river. Her face was covered in a hideous mottling of bruises and cuts that barely hid her sunken cheeks and sallow complexion. His eyes were next drawn to her left shoulder and the wound there that he remembered only too well. Only it looked worse than before – perhaps cut down to the bone now – and endless rivulets of blood were running down her arm to soak the ground beneath. Bending down closer, his cheek almost touching hers, he waited to feel a puff of air as it exited her nose and was stricken to realize she wasn't breathing.

"JENNY!" he screamed. "She's not breathing!"

"I'm here," Jenny rasped, pushing him aside to start CPR. As she did the chest compressions, Ichabod watched as tears ran down her cheeks. "Don't you DARE give up now, Abbie!" she shrieked. "Breathe!"

Jenny bent down and puffed two breaths of air into her sister's mouth, waited, and then began the compressions again.

Ichabod knelt behind Jenny and watched in an almost detached state, his hand covering his mouth in horror. He felt as though everything was moving slowly. He knew with perfect clarity that if they lost Abbie at this moment, nothing would stop him from returning to the cabin and using one of Corbin's guns to follow her. And if he could not find a gun, then a sword would do, or a rope. The method did not matter; only the destination. Losing her three times would be the end of him.

All of a sudden, Abbie choked and sputtered and coughed and Ichabod felt the world lurch back into normal speed. He was beside her in an instant, her hand in his.

"Abbie, can you hear me?" he asked softly, but her eyes weren't open. She was barely breathing. "What do we do?" he asked, looking up at Jenny. "Should you call the 'mobile doctors?'"

Jenny smoothed some hair back from Abbie's face gently and shook her head. She was shaking. "We can't chance it. We don't have Irving on our side anymore. Reyes would have too many questions that we don't have the ability to explain if she found her like this. I have Abbie's Jeep. We'll take her to the hospital ourselves and come up with a cover story on the way."

Ichabod nodded his assent and bent down, easily scooping Abbie up in his arms. He looked down and saw the large red stain on the grass and was panicked at the amount of blood she had lost. Even though she was breathing, he knew they didn't have much time. Her body felt cold and rigid against his and the relic of her that hid inside him was dismayed to say the least. They rushed across the field and over to the Jeep. Jenny opened the back door for him and he placed Abbie inside first and then got in, cradling her against him, trying his best to also hold pressure against her wound.

Jenny was already in the driver's seat and turned the key, firing the beast to life. She caught Ichabod's eyes in the rearview mirror. "You got her?"

He nodded solemnly, his arm tightening around her. "I do and I shall never let her go again."