There's Always Another Way (Sleepy Hollow Ichabbie)

Chapter 2 - Loophole

The funeral for FBI Agent Abbie Mills was front page news in the Sleepy Hollow Gazette. Close to three hundred people attended the memorial service. Nearly the entire Sherriff's Department came to show their support as well as the countless people whose lives she'd touched in one way or another over the years.

For Ichabod Crane, however, the whole thing was more or less a blur.

He had tried to write some words to say but after cutting out the parts about their bond as Witnesses and anything else that might not have an easy explanation, it simply didn't feel right. He gratefully let her father deliver the eulogy.

After the last of the guests had dispersed and Jenny had returned to the hospital to check on Joe, Ezra Mills found Ichabod sitting on one of the folding chairs near the grave, staring into the distance.

'Let me tell you a story,' the older man said, sitting down beside Ichabod.

When the lonely Witness said nothing, Ezra continued, 'Now, when I was in boot camp we were on a training maneuver way out in the woods, hadn't slept in two days. And on top of it all there was this steady cold rain, the kind that chills you to the bone. I was ready to quit. I wanted to walk away and be done with it all. Then my instructor told me something I'll never forget.'

'Stop feeling sorry for yourself and go help someone else.'

Those words became Ichabod's mantra in the following days. He repeated them in his head, summoning the fortitude to walk through the foyer of Abbie's house with another stack of flattened cardboard boxes under his arm.

The living room and the non-essential kitchen items were already packed, so he walked up the stairs and continued walking past the closed door to Abbie's bedroom. Today he would work on her office. She had quite a collection of books and CD's and movies in addition to all her saved textbooks and notes from school.

Ichabod popped open one of the collapsed boxes and expertly pushed the flaps into place. The whole thing was a marvel of ingenuity. He looked around the small room, deciding where to start.

His eyes fell on the framed picture beside the laptop on the desk. He picked it up, blew off the dust, and stared into the past. It was a candid moment, most likely snapped on Jenny's cell phone.

The two Witnesses were at brunch. Ichabod had a smug little smile and a twinkle in his eyes and Abbie's face was lit with a brilliant grin, clearly caught mid-laugh. He couldn't remember now what he'd said, but it must have been something absurd.

'How am I supposed to do this?' he thought now.

He looked around the room miserably. This house represented everything that was important to him, everything that he'd come to love about his life in the 21st century. And now he was supposed to dissect that life, box up each little piece of himself, and pack it away. Never to be seen again.

"Abbie..." he said aloud, his voice catching in his throat.

Then he blinked and his resolve hardened again.

"No, I'm not doing that," he said softly.

Ichabod had promised himself that he would only talk to her at her grave. If he allowed himself to give in, he would never be able to let go. And he had to let go, because he had no other choice.

So he placed the photo back on the desk and turned to the first bookshelf and got to work.

...........................................

Light shining through the window and onto her face woke Abbie from a deep sleep. She rubbed her eyes tiredly. Her surroundings slowly came into focus.