There's Always Another Way

A/N: Obviously this is a fix-it fic for the S3 finale. As far as I'm concerned, Sleepy Hollow is over. But I still love these characters and this is what I'm going to imagine happened instead of all that nonsense.

…

Chapter 1 - Waiting

Abbie Mills sat alone at the booth in the diner.

Seeing Sheriff Corbin again had been a pleasant surprise. She felt guilty that she hadn't been able to tell Jenny goodbye, but after her bittersweet farewell with Crane, she was sure that seeing her sister would have been too much to handle.

There was nothing else to do so she ate the rest of her apple pie, savoring the now mushy dessert. When it was gone, she absently pushed her spoon around the sticky plate. The quiet of the empty diner settled around her.

"I guess this is it, then," she said aloud.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let it out slowly. Everything felt still and quiet. A long moment passed. She felt the same. Nothing was happening.

Abbie opened one eye, then the other. She was still in the diner.

"Any time now…" she prompted.

…..

Meanwhile on another plane of existence, Jenny Mills was also waiting for the unknown.

She sat on the hard plastic hospital chair next to the bed and held Joe's limp hand in hers. The steady beeps and hums of the life support equipment were reassuring, she supposed. Although it would be far more reassuring to see Joe open his eyes.

Even so, the mechanical ticking was preferable to the panic that had gripped the room earlier. Joe's heartbeat had slowed and stopped, a shrill alarm had sounded and a group of doctors rushed in, pushing Jenny aside as they worked the defibrillator. Ultimately Joe was revived and his vital signs stabilized and the doctor had said something about keeping him in the coma a while longer.

Jenny felt like she was in a coma herself, barely able to process anything that was happening around her. All she could do was hold his hand and watch his pale face, desperate for a sign of life.

She'd already lost one person that she loved – if Crane was right, probably forever. She couldn't bear to lose anyone else, especially not Joe.

Ezra Mills watched his daughter from the other side of the room, wishing that he could do more to help, wondering what he could have done differently. There were a lot of things in his life that he should have done differently.

A knock on the window behind him broke that familiar train of thought. Ezra turned his head to see a uniformed officer standing outside the small room.

"I've got this," he said to his daughter, who didn't seem to hear.

…

Abbie felt like a ghost, walking around the deserted streets of the otherworldly version of her home town.

The place looked and felt real. It should, since it was created from her memories. The town was eerily quiet without people or cars but it wasn't oppressively silent. A breeze rippled through the trees and her footsteps padded along the sidewalk.

Whatever was going to happen to her was evidently going to take some time, so Abbie decided to take a walk and say goodbye to Sleepy Hollow.

She said goodbye to her beautiful office at the FBI headquarters, then the Archives, her favorite Starbucks even though she'd given it up after the Catacombs, and the park where she and Crane used to watch the Minor League baseball games on the weekends.

Eventually her feet grew tired and the shadows grew longer. Daylight seemed to be fading, which Abbie decided was very considerate. She walked down the familiar streets until she arrived at her house.

Abbie felt at peace, which was remarkable because she'd spent the past months feeling conflicted, like she was being pulled in a hundred different directions at once. Everything had worked out in the end, more or less, and she had fulfilled her duty as a Witness.

So it was okay. It really was, she told herself. She was ready to let go and move on.

Any time now.

….

"Sir, I'm Lieutenant Tom Roberts from the Sherriff's Department. I'm sorry to bother you at a time like this, but I need to ask you a few questions."

"Of course. I understand," Ezra said cautiously.

He'd expected this would happen sooner or later. The hospital staff was required to call the police when a patient showed up with a gunshot wound.

"What's your relationship to Joe Corbin?" the officer asked.

The young man's expression made it clear that he knew exactly whose son was lying in the hospital bed and he was taking his assignment very seriously.

"He and my daughter, Jenny," Ezra glanced at the couple, "are together."

Lieutenant Roberts looked through the window as well and, after a brief moment of confusion, recognized the young woman sitting beside Joe.

"Is that Jenny Mills? Abbie Mills' sister?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes," Ezra confirmed.

"I'm so sorry, sir. About what happened. I didn't know her well…She left shortly after I joined up. But everyone said real good things about her. I'm really sorry," the officer said sincerely.

He was embarrassed for not putting together the pieces sooner.

"Thank you," Ezra said.

He appreciated the young man's condolences but he did not wish to dwell on the loss of his daughter right then. Not when he had a job to do and another daughter to protect.

"It was a hunting accident," Ezra explained, changing the topic back to Joe's injury, "I could have sworn I checked the rifle, but…It all happened so fast."

It had happened fast and he did feel a good deal of guilt for it, so his lie was mostly truth, in that respect. The officer seemed sympathetic.

"It happens more often than you think. I'm sure he'll pull through. These doctors are some of the best," he tried to strike a hopeful note before closing his notebook and taking his leave.

….

"Where is she now?"

August Corbin glanced at the monitor on the wall.

"Still sitting on her front porch swing," he confirmed.

The Sleepy Hollow Sherriff's Department was a near exact replica of the real one. The only differences being that there were only two occupants in the entire building and the computer monitors on the desks had been replaced with stone tablets and ancient scrolls.

Corbin sighed and then turned his attention back to the task at hand.

"The answer is here. It has to be," he said, as much to rally his own determination as to encourage his companion.

"Yes, but what I don't understand is why it all has to be in damn Sumerian! If you ask me, the wrong Witness got called up," Frank Irving did not hesitate to express his frustration.

Corbin didn't answer. They were supposed to be impartial, but both men had a soft spot for Abbie Mills. And Frank was right about one thing. If Crane were there with them, it would make this whole job a lot easier.

"Are you sure we didn't miss anything?" Corbin asked, peering over his glasses at the younger man sitting across from him.

"We've been through it all several times over!" Irving said, gesturing to the mess of artifacts and documents strewn across the long conference table.

A packing crate sat in the corner of the room, by the coffee machine. The inventory receipt was titled 'Rules and Regulations Pertaining to Witness Transcendence'.

Captain Irving pushed back his chair and walked over to the coffee station. He picked up a cup and set it under the gurgling coffee maker. He knew that caffeine had no effect on his body in this dimension, but he liked the ritual of it. And the coffee tasted better here than it did in the real office.

He looked through the window at the empty rows of desks.

Sleepy Hollow. He'd only spent a few short years in the place but he'd come to think of it as home.

"What is it about this place?" Irving wondered aloud, not for the first time.

August Corbin frowned.

"Maybe that's it," he said, thinking.

"What?" Irving turned around to look at him.

"Maybe she's not transcending not because there's something wrong with the process, but because there's something wrong with this place, how it works."

Irving thought about this for a moment and then decided that his friend might be on to something.

"I'll go get the crate for the Fundamental Rules for Witness Limbo or whatever it's called."

…

TBC!