Author's Note: OMG. So like, first Sleepy Hollow fic. I can't, these two are driving me KUHRAZY. I haven't even FIcc'd in like, a year but I had to after this week's ep. Set slightly before it happened, I just feel like something changed with the dynamic between the two. Maybe this was a lost moment? I had fun with it. Not beta'd, errors are in there, first story I've written in months, yadda yadda yadda the usual excuses. Enjoy!
The door to Crane's room stood open every night, like an open invitation that she knew she couldn't accept.
While the man drowsed into slumber beyond that open, trusting doorjamb, she sat at the dining room table, her head cradled in her hands, trying to stop her mind from racing. She hadn't slept for 3 days. Dark circles were getting harder and harder to cover up in the mornings and one time she hadn't managed to escape into the relative safety of her room before he'd caught her, hand trembling as she put the coffee pot down after almost overfilling her cup and scalding her hand.
She kept up a brave front, even though she knew if anyone would understand, he would. He knew best the horrors she'd had to face, the tortures she'd had to endure. And suddenly, like a flash in the night, she realized she hadn't thought about how that month she'd been gone had strained him. She knew the house had been a wreck when they'd come back that first night, all over papers and scribbled notes taped to walls, the last vestiges of a frantic and desperate man that he hadn't had the chance to sweep away.
But it had all been gone by the time she'd come back out of her room the next day, after spending hours rocking in bed, eyes wide open, seeing nothing, refusing to believe it was real. Refusing to believe she had really made it out of that monotonous hell hole in one piece. Honestly, if the actual hell was anything like that, she'd never wish it on any of her worst enemies and detractors.
"Leftenant…It's nearing sunrise. Is there anything the matter?"
She jumped, having not heard him slip quietly into the room, his long, pale and very bare feet making no sound on the hardwood. Her heart skipped and then slowed, almost relieved to see him standing there in little more than baggy plaid pajama pants and a t-shirt. He admitted the comforts of "modern nightclothes" was something worth indulging in.
"I'm alright…just…can't sleep. Still a bit on edge." She forced a quick smile that probably looked more like a grimace. Ichabod nodded, seemingly not surprised in the least. He pulled out the chair next to her and made to sit, but she got up before he could. They both stood and faced each other. My God…when had he gotten so tall? For some reason, the illusion of Crane she'd imagined in her mad ravings hadn't been quite as imposing.
"I should…try and sleep. Gotta get back to solving these cases. If what you and the others say is true, and monsters are swarming on Sleepy Hollow for some reason, we have our work cut out for us." She made to go to her bedroom and swipe past him, but a sudden wave of exhausted dizziness hit and she stumbled.
"Damn it!" She hissed, just as Ichabod's long fingers and warm hands wrapped around her arm and left side, keeping her knees from connecting harshly with the floor.
"Abbie…You're not alright." His voice was almost a rumble, it was so low and serious, his hazel eyes flashing between blue and green in concern.
"I'm not." It slipped out before she could stop it, two traitorous words that broke the shield she'd built up around herself since they'd come back.
She slid gently to the floor, Crane still holding her waist and hand. She felt the emotion hit her like a punch in the gut, a loud resounding roar of protest at all this input after 10 months of monotony and nothingness. She hadn't cried like this since her childhood. The teenage years are never kind to anyone and she definitely wasn't spared.
The tears just kept coming, her throat slowly going hoarse from the whimpers, the mumbled sounds that were meant as words, but never came forth fully formed. And the whole time Crane was there, holding her tightly to his chest, burying his aquiline nose into her curls, holding her as if he was holding her pieces together, keeping her from shattering completely. Whispering sounds she didn't immediately recognize and was beyond trying to comprehend.
Just the rumble of his voice in his chest soothed her, the warmth of his breath on her cheek. The force of his fingers around her arm, squeezing tightly but not too tight. He was scared, he'd never seen her like this. He'd never had to actually see her break. She'd worked so terribly hard to keep it that way. To show him she was too strong to let anything get to her. But in the end, through all the supernatural occurrences they dealt with on a daily basis, They were still only human beings.
They didn't have powers beyond what being witnesses entailed, solving cases with merely their intel on the arcana of the world, learning a lot as they went along. But sometimes in the darkest moments of the night, Abbie wondered seriously what her life would be like if Ichabod had never entered it.
Her sobs lessened in intensity, her sniffles growing louder as she struggled not to reach up and wipe away the natural liquids like a child. But Crane was on it, tugging up the hem of his shirt and running it firmly but gently over her cheeks, even giving her nose a tug, which made her start and give him 'the look'. But he just smiled warmly back at her and squeezed her shoulder.
"I have lost track of how many times I have told you this in different ways, but…I feel it bears repeating still. You are not alone, Leftenant. And you never will be. As long as I can pull air into my lungs. We are in this together. To the end."
She nodded, eyes downcast, suddenly shy after the entire episode. Things would be different now. They always would be. Her eye strayed to the damp spot on the bottom of his shirt and her heart lurched into her throat. This man…loved her.
"Ichabod…"
"Come, it is a very late hour. You need to try and get at least a bit of sleep if we're to be back at the archives tomorrow. We'll only go if you feel ready, of course." He stood up and gathered Abbie's tiny but robust body into his arms and carried her gently to the door of her room. He laid her in bed and bowed low, like he used to when they first met. She smiled, the last of her tears stinging the corners of her eyes.
"I bid you goodnight, Leftenant. I hope rest can find you before the sunrise."
He turned to leave.
"Wait."
He froze.
"Stay with me?"
The question was so subtle she wasn't even sure if it was a question or a command. Her voice was soft, broken. There was no shame left to feel.
"Leftenant, I don't-"
"Please. Crane."
His eyes swept over the scene, her weak and tired from the breakdown, vulnerable and alone in the large bed. If anyone knew the wonders of human contact in moments of distress it was him. But this…
He took a deep breath and sat next to her, rubbing her back gently, cautiously.
" I thought of you so much while I was there. You were all I could even process. That and getting out. Getting to see you again."
He was silent, letting her ramble. Still rubbing her back. He wanted so badly to say that he'd felt the same way back here, but that it couldn't even be quantified the same since the passage of time was so vastly different.
"Sometimes…sometimes I would take the King from the White chess set and the Queen from the black set and put them together in the middle of the board, and…the others would surround them in a circle. The Witnesses, come to save the world." She chuckled. "I'm really, really surprised I didn't completely lose it in there."
Crane stopped rubbing.
"You're a strong woman, Abbie. It takes much more than the monotony of an alternate plane prison to stagger your sanity. But to be frank, I'd be quite surprised if it hadn't at least been jarring. You'll be fine. I'm sure of it. You just need time. Don't rush it."
Abbie turned to face him. "You still think that? Even after what just happened?"
Ichabod sat up straighter.
"I am honestly honored you felt safe and comfortable enough in my presence to release the emotions you must have been holding back for those ten months and more. I pray it is a sign you trust me enough to tell me when something is truly troubling you."
Suddenly, exhaustion hit her all at once. Without anything left to cry and unable to feel anything else, It was a default reaction. She slumped against him, eyes fluttering closed.
He held her, stretching his mile long legs out next to her, adjusting the pillows so they were both comfortable.
When her breathing had finally evened out into true sleep, Ichabod released a shaky sigh.
"I love you so much, Grace Abigail Mills…" he whispered, just as the beginnings of the anticipated sunrise started to trickle in through the balcony window.
Things would be different now. They always would be.