A/N: I am SO sorry for the insanely long timespan between chapters, but I just ran into a block with this story for awhile. I could NOT figure out where it was going. But, I'm back and I have my outline figured out and I'm determined to finish it!
For those who don't remember, a short primer on this story:
-Takes place directly after Season 1 finale
-Ichabod loses consciousness in the coffin and journeys to Purgatory, meeting up with Abbie.
-Abbie believes that by giving Ichabod her "mortal strength" she can keep him alive in the coffin long enough for Jenny to rescue him. By doing this, she is cut loose from life and essentially dead. She does not realize that when she does this, she also gives him a piece of her soul. Ichabod can sense this piece and sees the "real" Abbie.
-Ichabod is rescued by Jenny and wakes up in the hospital, heartbroken to realize that Abbie gave her life for his. He vows to try and save her and exact his revenge upon Moloch.
-Abbie is offered a choice by Moloch through Andy Brooks: give him her soul or he will send her back to the mortal world where she will be incomplete since Ichabod possesses a vital part of her soul. She will be unable to feel love for anyone in her life. She will be in constant agony.
-Ichabod and Jenny have spent four months trying to find a way to save Abbie, without any luck. They are at the baseball field one night when Abbie suddenly reappears. They rush her to the hospital. At the hospital, Ichabod confesses to Katrina that he no longer loves her, but Abbie.
And here we go!
Abbie awoke with a start, as though from a nightmare, and gasping for air. Immediately, she looked around for Moloch, thinking he had to be lurking nearby. Her heart pounded against her ribs like a jackhammer, so intense was the fear flooding her body. She knew she couldn't withstand another encounter with him right now. She was far too weak.
Cover. She needed to find cover. Taking a deep breath, she tried to get a bearing on her surroundings. The last thing she remembered was Moloch flinging her towards the wall of the dollhouse. Where was she now? Definitely not the dollhouse – that much she knew. The room was dark, and it was then that she realized she was lying down. The longer she took in her surroundings, the more she knew she was in a hospital of some kind. Or rather, a place that appeared to be a hospital. Was this another trick of Moloch's? Abbie blinked furiously and was frustrated to find her vision hazy at best.
Immediately, she wished that Ichabod were there with her. His face flashed in her mind, and she had to choke back a sob. At times, it amazed her how quickly she had come to depend on him and count on him to be at her side. Being without him was extremely jarring and just felt wrong to her in every way.
She turned to the left and was shocked to see the young version of Jenny sitting in a chair against the wall next to her bed, her head at an odd angle, eyes closed. Her skirt was perfectly pressed, pleats neat and tidy and her shirt was crisply white in the dark room, almost as though a spotlight were shining on her. An odd mixture of happiness and terror swirled within Abbie, for she truly had missed the girl, but if she was with this Jenny, it could mean nothing good for her soul. Had she truly died, then? Had Moloch finally killed her? Abbie could think of no other explanation for being back with the young memory version of her sister.
She tried to reach out to Jenny with her left hand, but stopped short when searing pain shot through her shoulder. It felt like someone was jabbing a hot poker into her shoulder all the way to the bone and it took her breath away. She gasped and shut her eyes tight against the pain, unable to focus on anything else. Abbie wondered if she was in another realm besides Purgatory, because her injuries had never been so excruciating in the dollhouse. This pain felt too immediate; too real. Breathing slowly, she waited, hoping the pain would subside enough for her to be able to concentrate on more important things. When it became bearable, she forced her eyes open and as her vision cleared, she found herself looking at the adult version of her sister sleeping in the hard plastic hospital chair.
The real Jenny.
Though less than before, her shoulder still throbbed painfully, and for the first time, she looked down at her body and saw that her left shoulder was heavily bandaged all the way down to her elbow and in a sling. Numerous IV's snaked into and around her and she could feel bruises and cuts on her face and body.
But anything physical paled in comparison to the emotional tumult that suddenly crashed over the shores of her soul. She felt the most all-encompassing agony right in the middle of her chest where her heart should have been. It felt like a huge wrecking ball had smashed into her and stolen her heart, leaving only jagged rocks behind that were ripping and tearing and shredding her soul to pieces as she watched. An intrinsic and crucial part of her soul was missing from her and though she could not give that part a name or had ever noticed it existence before, she knew that it was gone.
Abbie seemed poised on the verge of huge, wracking sobs at every moment, but somehow she knew that she would never find the release that tears bring. This was what Moloch had foretold: a living death in the mortal world. There was a raw, gaping anguish thriving inside her, pulsating with hurt and terror. So immense was the effect that she felt paralyzed by it and had to take a few moments to compose herself enough to be able to breathe normally and withstand the constant onslaught.
Suddenly, Jenny sighed and her eyes opened slowly. They looked glassy and faraway to Abbie – as if she were still caught in the last twilight moments of sleep. Jenny looked around slowly, rubbing her face with her hands and finally her gaze came to rest on Abbie. The moment it did her eyes went wide and she scrambled from the chair to kneel by the bed.
"Oh my god! Abbie! You're awake! Thank God!" She leaned in and hugged her gently.
The instant she felt the contact, Abbie's whole body went rigid and she was overwhelmed by the urge to pull back – if only because Jenny's closeness made the ache in her chest explode like a sunburst into searing pain. Abbie would have done anything to make it stop. The pain obliterated every other sensation and because of it, she couldn't feel the same relief and happiness that Jenny obviously did. All Abbie could feel was hopelessness and emptiness – the deep sorrow at the missing part of her. It was as though there was a great wide expanse of desolate prairie inside her that was tearing at her soul and there was nowhere for her to hide and nothing for company except a cold wind.
She knew Jenny felt that something was off – something was wrong. She pulled back to look her in the eyes, searching. "Abbie, what's wrong?"
Before Abbie could begin to even formulate an excuse, the door swished open and Ichabod was standing in the doorway, his body outlined by the light from the hallway. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. She hadn't seen him in so long – what felt like years.
"Abbie!" he gasped, dropping the cups of coffee he had been carrying. They plummeted to the ground, coffee splashing all over the floor and his trouser legs, but he paid it no mind. He was by her side in two strides, and took her hand reverently. His eyes were filled with adoration and unshed tears and his face was lit by a bright smile.
"You don't know how I've missed you," he said, kissing the back of her hand softly.
Abbie flinched at the contact, the pain she had felt at Jenny's touch multiplying exponentially at his. If Jenny's touch had felt like a sunburst, then Ichabod's felt like she was being consumed by the sun. Tendrils of pain shot through her body from where his fingers touched her hand and she almost lost her breath at the sheer power of it. The longing and desperation his touch conjured was unlike anything she had experienced in her hard life. Abbie was certain she would die if he continued to hold her hand – if only because she had missed it so much and the sting of knowing she would never fully be able to appreciate it again was more than she could handle.
Ichabod looked at her with suddenly wounded eyes, obviously noticing her reaction, and placed her hand on the bed. He took a step back, giving her just enough air and space to wrest control back from the dark feelings that had threatened to overwhelm her.
"I've exceeded my bounds," he said softly, his voice pale. He took up his protective stance – a soldier at ease. "You have just returned, Abbie. I apologize."
Abbie shook her head quickly, squeezing her eyes shut to hold back hot, stinging tears. This is what she had wanted, wasn't it? To be near Ichabod, no matter the cost? "No, no, it's ok, Crane. It's just me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she said, rubbing her eyes with her shaking hands.
Ichabod looked at her in shock, his expression pained. "Crane?"
Abbie did not understand his meaning, but before she could reply, Jenny moved quickly and put a hand on his arm. Jenny looked at Ichabod, her creased brow the only giveaway to her concern.
Abbie looked away, barely hearing what she said. Just looking at the two people who meant the most to her was like a knife in her guts. How would she ever be able to be around them every day? Already it felt like she was dying inside and it had only been a few minutes.
"She did kind of the same thing when I hugged her," Jenny whispered to Ichabod. "I don't know what's wrong."
Abbie felt a light touch on her elbow and looked back to Ichabod. She noticed anew how incredibly handsome he was: high cheekbones, perfectly straight nose, tousled hair and piercing blue eyes. He was so beautiful to her that she feared her heart would stop at the sight of him – as though an arrow had been shot through her chest.
But then, as she looked closer, she saw that his skin was pale, he had dark circles under his eyes, and his face was thinner than she had ever seen it. As was the rest of him, judging by the way his clothes hung on his frame. He had always filled out his Revolutionary-era garb quite nicely and now he looked as though he'd been off at war for years. Why did he look as though he had been right with her in Purgatory this whole time? Hadn't Jenny been taking care of him? As soon as she was able, one of her first orders of business would be to get him looking healthy again.
But even through all of that, she still saw the beautiful soul that lived within and could sense immediately that he loved her. She would have known it even if he hadn't declared his feelings when they were in Purgatory. It exuded from his entire body like an aura, and she knew she had loved him, as well, and told him as much. Just moments ago, it seemed. Seconds, it had to be. But now all she could feel when she searched inside was the same grief and emptiness she had with Jenny – only with him it was even worse because she was dying to feel that love again. With him, it was far more painful. It felt like his very face was a bullet ripping through her heart. It was as though she had lost something very important and could almost remember what it had felt like, but the memory was just beyond her reach. Their love was a phantom limb that only bore the pale memories of what once was – not the true brilliance. She wanted that love back more than she wanted her next breath, but at that moment, Abbie couldn't figure a way to find it no matter how hard she tried. All she knew for certain at that moment was that she would do her best to never hurt him and would do anything he asked of her, if only to keep that sad expression from his face.
"I'll be ok," she finally managed. "I just have to get used to it again…being here…in the mortal world. Just give me some time."
"Of course, of course. How do you feel?" Ichabod asked, moving closer. He hesitantly picked her hand up again, but this time, there was no gallant kiss. It took all the meager strength she had to weather the waves of anguish that rolled over her as their hands touched. She managed somehow to stop herself from recoiling, for his sake.
Abbie swallowed dryly. How could she answer that question? How did she feel? She felt lost and broken and buried deep and so, so hollow of any sensations except pain. She was terrified it would overpower her and drive her to take drastic action to alleviate it. And that was just what Moloch wanted, but she couldn't tell them any of that yet. They wouldn't understand; weren't ready for it. She needed time to find the best way to explain it. So she did the only thing she could at the time: she told them part of the truth.
"I'm just tired and my shoulder hurts like hell. How long was I gone?"
At her question, Jenny and Ichabod exchanged glances and she knew that the answer would be bad. She braced herself for it.
"Ahh…you were 'missing' for just a little over…four months," Ichabod answered softly.
Abbie felt like she had been punched in the stomach and her heart monitor began beeping at a frantic pace. Her breath came in short gasps that were quickly leading to hysterical sobs. "Four months? Four months?!"
Ichabod looked at the monitors, his face panicked. "Please try to remain calm, Abbie. It will do you no good to become distraught."
Unknowing of what it did to her, he stroked her cheek gently and her heart rate increased, tears filling her eyes. She could not bear for him to touch her because it only reminded her of what she could not feel. She wanted to feel love when he touched her and she knew that was the one thing she couldn't do. It was more misery than she had ever experienced. It was like drowning in a cold, black expanse of water, her heart hungering to feel love the way her lungs would hunger for air.
"Should we call the doctor?" Ichabod asked, looking to Jenny, his eyes wild with fright.
"I'll go get her," Jenny said, rushing out the door.
Unable to handle his touch any longer, Abbie pulled her hand from his under the guise of trying to push herself up to a sitting position. But the moment she put weight on her left shoulder, fiery pain shot through her, points of light exploding before her eyes. Strangely she was thankful, because at least the physical pain was a distraction from her inner emotional turmoil. She sank back onto the bed, tears streaming down her face, her whole body shaking.
Ichabod wiped some of her tears away and looked at her sadly. "I cannot bear seeing you like this, Abbie. You are tearing my heart to pieces. Please, please try to calm yourself. I promise you that you are safe now. I shall never let Moloch hurt you again."
His words grabbed her attention somehow and it was then that she remembered that she was there to protect Ichabod. She was there to stop Moloch from hurting Ichabod so that he would be able to avert the apocalypse. If she allowed Moloch's prediction to come true and let these dark emotions control her, then Moloch would win. She would end up committing suicide to escape the regret and desolation that the loss of her ability to love wrought. She had given Ichabod part of her soul freely and would do so again if it meant he continued to live. If she let her courage desert her now simply because she wanted that piece back so she could love him again, everything she had sacrificed would be in vain.
Ichabod deserved better. If she couldn't truly love him, she could still do right by him and do everything in her power to keep him safe. If that meant she had to suffer the rest of her life, so be it.
Abbie looked at him, watching her so fondly, and felt a tingle in the middle of her chest – her phantom heart fluttering wildly – the only memento she had left telling her that there had been something wondrous between them. She had to let that be enough for her and she had to learn to deal with the excruciating pain his nearness and touch engendered.
Ichabod was silent as she composed herself and a few moments later, he said, "Feeling improved?"
Abbie nodded and by the time Jenny burst through the door with the doctor in tow, all of her monitors were back to normal. Jenny was huffing from being out of breath and looked at the monitors then back to the doctor, who was obviously perturbed.
"I swear, doctor, her blood pressure was through the roof when I came to get you!" she said, dismayed.
"We got this. Crane helped me remember," Abbie said softly, looking up at him sadly. He looked back at her quizzically, but did not let on in any other way that he was confused.
The doctor crossed her arms, her face stern. Her dark hair was pulled up into a tight bun and her green eyes were hard. She moved towards Abbie and quickly scanned the monitors, then turned back to Jenny. "Miss Mills, please make sure there is an actual emergency the next time you drag me away from my duties."
The doctor turned and with a swish of the door, she was gone.
Ichabod looked immediately to Abbie. "I am glad to have been able to assist you, Abigail, but I am at a loss as to what I actually did," he said. He reached for her hand again, but she deftly moved hers to gingerly touch her wounded shoulder, pretending to inspect the damage.
"Isn't it enough to know that you did help me?" she asked absently, as she looked up at the ceiling and chewed on her bottom lip – anything to avoid seeing what she knew would be Ichabod's crestfallen look. She knew that he knew she didn't want him to hold her hand and she was afraid he was coming up with his own reasons why. If only she could tell him the truth!
But she had quickly come to the realization that she could never tell him the truth. If she did, he would move heaven and earth and all of Purgatory to try and set things right – even if it meant his ultimate demise. Crane would never let her languish in torment because it meant he would be safe. So, she could never tell him what was really wrong. She could never tell him that because he had a part of her soul locked away inside his own, she was incomplete and not truly alive in the same way he was. A part of her lived inside another and that fact rendered her a ghost of sorts and ghosts could not love in the way a truly living person could. She only hoped he didn't remember that a remnant of her was a stowaway inside his heart. If he ever found out that her gift of life to him meant a living death for her, he would never stop trying to set things right and that was a dangerous path.
Sighing, she finally looked back to Ichabod and her earlier vow to never hurt him came back to her as she saw pain shining in his sky blue eyes. She had broken her promise already and she had only woken up a few minutes ago. Her gaze flicked over to Jenny and she saw the same wounded expression in her eyes, as well.
"I'm sorry. I know I'm screwing everything up and I'm not acting right-"
"Abbie, don't you dare," Jenny said, cutting her off. She moved one step closer to the bed and Abbie had to fight hard to keep from curling into a ball. "Crane and I can't begin to imagine what you've been through," Jenny continued. "You don't have to apologize for anything."
Ichabod moved to stand beside the bed again, but did not try to touch her in any way. He lowered himself to one knee, the hem of his soldier's coat brushing the floor. He looked at her gently, but earnestly, and Abbie felt as though his eyes were searching her soul. He was gazing at her as though she were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen and that he would do anything for her and Abbie could not understand why she deserved such admiration.
His fingers had moved to clench the sheets of her bed and she could tell it was taking a great amount of control for him not to touch her or, even worse, pull her into his steely embrace. But his voice was forgiving and gentle when he spoke and it seemed to Abbie that he was trying to caress her with his words when his hands could not.
"Abbie, what happened in Purgatory after you returned me to the coffin? What evil did Moloch perpetrate against you?"
Tears immediately filled her eyes at his soft-spoken question and the sweet concern displayed in his eyes. She looked away, not wanting to crumble in front of Ichabod and Jenny. Bits and pieces of her time in Purgatory flashed in her mind and all the fear she had felt there swept back like a tornado, rendering her breathless. She could feel that both Crane and Jenny wanted to rush forward and hug her and it only made the internal battle she was fighting even that much harder. She felt almost suffocated by the pain of wanting to make them happy and knowing she could not. All they wanted was her love and it was the one thing forever out of her reach. The complete wretchedness of that revelation was too much to endure.
"It's not…he…Moloch…" She dissolved into tears then, doing her best to turn away from them, but her wounded shoulder would not allow much movement. Sobs wracked her body and she felt the desolation and despair threatening to devour her again. Abbie hated to admit it, but if she'd had a gun at that moment, she would have pulled the trigger and ended her torment.
"Abbie, please forgive me for distressing you," Ichabod cried, his fingers fluttering over her face and smoothing her hair. "Please let me help you."
Each touch of his fingers felt like the prick of a needle to Abbie and agony exploded in their wake. The pain ebbed a bit when he pulled his hands back, apparently having noticed her unease.
She wanted him to pull her close and hold her and allow the comfort and safety she always felt in his arms fall around her like a warm blanket. Selfishly, she almost begged him to do it. But Abbie knew that nothing good would come of it because she would not experience those emotions she remembered so fondly. She would only feel regret and sorrow as they gnawed at the battered remains of her heart and that was not fair to Ichabod. Savagely, she pushed that need down, crushing it into dust.
"You deserve…so much better…" she whispered through her tears as she looked up at him. Her relic of a heart trembled a bit, but it was merely a shadow of what once was.
"What?" Ichabod asked, dumbfounded, brow creased. "Better than what?"
Abbie took a deep breath and tried to reign in her raw emotions. She had to get herself back under control. How did she ever think she could protect Ichabod if she was a complete basket case around him every time he stood close to her?
"Better than me," she said, her voice wavering on the last word. She shook her head sadly, tears slipping down her cheeks. "There's barely anything left of me."
"Abbie, don't say that," said Jenny, stepping forward. She reached out a hand, but then must have thought better of it and let it fall to her side.
Abbie shrugged, never feeling so worthless in her entire life, and looked up at her sister. "It's true, though," she said bitterly. "Moloch made sure of it." She turned back to Crane, who looked like all the blood had drained from his face. His eyes were twin indigo mirrors of grief. She couldn't remember ever seeing him so bereft – not even the first day she met him when he didn't know when or where he was. She hated herself anew for making him look like that and causing him more hurt.
"I don't know what you see in me," she said, self-loathing laced within her words like arsenic.
A single tear fell down his cheek at her words. "I see the woman I love," he answered.
His words cut her open and she felt the agony and heartbreak slipping between the cracks, soaking down to the very marrow of her bones. "I'm not worthy of your love," she replied. "I want nothing more than for you to be happy but you'll never be happy with me. Not now."
"Abbie, don't say—"
She held up her good hand to stop him. "It's true, Crane. I'm all used up. I'd be no good to you. I promised myself that if I came back, I wouldn't hurt you. I could watch you being happy in your life and it would be enough to just be near you and make sure you were safe. But I'm breaking that promise already."
"If you came back?" Ichabod repeated. "You had a choice?" he asked, his voice hushed.
"You should be with Katrina," Abbie blurted, ignoring his question. Even though she knew she was right, the words felt bitter and wrong in her mouth.
"Excuse me?" Crane asked, bewildered. "Abbie, I refuse to believe that you are sincere in that statement. You can't be…"
She choked back a sob and nodded quickly, gnawing on her bottom lip. "I am. It's pretty obvious I'm worthless like this. Look at me: injured, messed up, haunted. I'm a freak. I'm nothing."
Crane dared to inch closer to her and she could feel his breath on her cheek. "You are everything to me. I cannot contemplate my life without you in it. We belong together. You must know this."
A tear slipped down her cheek and she did her best to steel herself against the panic that rose within her at his nearness. If he touched her, she could only imagine the anguish that would rush through her body like a wildfire. But, even so, Abbie knew she could never be truly parted from him. She had to be near him in some way – as a guardian, of sorts. She just wasn't able to summon her love for him and he deserved better than a hollow wisp of a girl who used to care for him. He deserved someone who loved him more than her own life and she knew that Katrina did love him. How much and to what lengths were up for debate, but at least it was something.
"I'll always be right here, Crane," she said sadly, echoing her goodbye in Purgatory. "But you deserve more than a placeholder. You deserve someone who can love you without any baggage. That's not me. Moloch's made sure of it."
Crane looked at her for long moments, his eyes shining with unshed tears. She could see him trying to understand what was going on inside her. She was a puzzle he was trying to solve – the way he solved their cases. Finally, he turned his gaze to Jenny, eyebrows raised, and Abbie got the distinct impression he was asking her a question.
Jenny wiped away a tear of her own and shrugged.
Looking back to Abbie, his question apparently answered, Ichabod stood up and cleared his throat. His whole persona changed. It solidified, turning to steel. It seemed to Abbie that he was pulling the veneer of a soldier over himself as one might a mask; protecting himself. And he was giving her the distance she needed, even though she had never voiced it.
"I'm not sure what you are experiencing, Lieutenant," he said, his voice cool, but with a fervor just beneath the surface. "I do not purport to have the ability to even imagine what you suffered in Purgatory. But know this: I shall NOT return to Katrina, nor will I leave you to suffer further in isolation. I will help you through whatever is plaguing you. You are not some solitary shepherd destined to watch over me from afar. We are the Witnesses and we are meant to stand together against the apocalypse. I can feel that you need some time unaccompanied, so I will leave you now to get some rest. However, I will return in a few hours and we will continue our discussion."
He turned and took two steps towards the door, and Abbie watched him go, eyes wide. He stopped, suddenly, and looked back to her, his eyes full of love and adoration.
"Perhaps you do not recall this, my dear Abigail, but I carry a piece of you within me. It lays curled against my heart at all times, warming it. This piece of you has been my constant companion these last four months. You were always there when I had lost hope and needed comfort. You never abandoned me, so how can you ask me to do exactly that to you?"
Abbie was shocked that he did know he carried part of her within himself. "Crane, that's not the same—"
He held up his hand to stop her. "Your words will make no difference. This vestige of you that I carry inside allows me to see who you truly are. You are far from 'nothing' and 'worthless.' You are the bravest and most beautiful woman I have ever known. It's as true here in the mortal world as it was in Purgatory. I could no more let you go than I could stop myself from breathing. You are a part of me forever and we will be together again. I will not lose you to Moloch. I will help you to remember what we feel for each other or die trying."
Abbie was struck speechless. There was not one coherent thought in her mind in the face of such an epic declaration. She could almost see the love he felt for her coming off him in waves and as they cascaded over her, an answering surf of regret and despair rolled off of her. Regret, because she could overcome the agony and heartache within her to summon the love she knew she once had for him. Despair because she was terrified she would never be strong enough to defeat the curse Moloch had cast against her and that her love for Ichabod was forever lost to her.
Before she could string a few words together, he spared one more look for Jenny, and then turned back towards the door, leaving the room in a quiet whisper of coat and boots.
The moment he was gone, Jenny stepped closer to Abbie, her arms crossed. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes looked fierce. "That man loves you more than I will ever understand."
Abbie sighed. "Jenny, that's just it. You don't understand—"
"Nope," Jenny said, cutting her off. "You don't get it. If we hadn't found you last night, I don't know how much longer he would have lasted."
"Lasted?" Abbie repeated, confused.
"He was withering away, Abbie!" Jenny shrieked. "He spent every waking moment in the Archives trying to find a way to save you. He barely slept and only ate if I made him. There were days he could barely stand up straight. He was totally lost without you. Every night – every damn night – he would go and sit under those stupid bleachers at the baseball field because he said he felt closer to you there. He said he could 'talk' to the part of you he has inside better there, whatever the hell that meant. I'd have to go find him and force him into your Jeep and take him home. That's why we were there last night. I looked after him because I thought it was what you would have wanted me to do!"
Jenny shook her head, expelling an angry breath. "You can't do this to him. You can't just brush him aside because you think it's for the best. I don't know what happened in Purgatory or what Moloch has you believing, but Crane loves you and he's not just going to walk away and into Katrina's arms."
Abbie shook her head sadly. Jenny didn't know what Moloch had stolen from her. She didn't know that when she gave Ichabod that part of her, she'd lost her ability to love or feel anything good. She was lost in a dense forest of grief, pain, despair and anguish, with razor-sharp thorns blocking the way to the petrified remains of her heart. In her mind, the only right thing – the only honest thing – was to push Ichabod towards someone who could love him. She had to at least give him a chance at happiness. She would forever be his friend, but trying to be anything more was only fooling herself and cheating him. Just attempting friendship would probably be the death of her.
"There is always another way…"
Her own words echoed back to her by Crane when she had told him she was staying in Purgatory the first time flashed in her mind. She had told him their destiny was to sacrifice themselves so humanity could endure and she had been ready to do just that. Even as he had held her and vowed to return for her, she knew it would never happen. She knew she would never be freed from Purgatory and that Crane would never come back. But then…he had. When she'd been at her lowest and so, so close to giving in to Moloch, Crane had reappeared in Purgatory, ready to stay by her side, as always.
If there was another way out of this mess, then maybe out of all of the people in the world, he was the only one who could find it.
Abbie only hoped she could hold on long enough for him to find it.