First they were everything.

Then there was nothing.

Now she was alone. In her mind, in her soul, and in...whatever the hell this place was. Mostly, it was white. Bright and shiny, like a dentist's office. White arched overhead and spread out beneath her feet and rolled away in every direction. That was all.

"Crane?" Her voice was swallowed by the brightness. No echo. She took a step forward, hands outstretched. There had to be a wall, had to be a something. But no matter how many steps she took, nothing. Just quiet. Just white.

She began to run with silent steps. There had to be an end to all this, didn't there? Or was this what happened when you gave your soul away? No heaven, no hell, only emptiness?

She kept running. Kept yelling. Maybe for minutes, maybe for days. Panic grew and grew until it was screaming in her ears, bursting from her chest, pounding in her veins. Then something grabbed her arm and she lost her balance, only just managing to swing around with her fist raised.

"Abbie, Abbie!" Crane shielded his face with the hand not wrapped around her wrist. "It's me. You sleep always with one knee raised, your foot flat against the bed. You hum to yourself as you read, particularly research which bores you. You respond most favorably when I press my lips against your-"

She launched herself at him, clinging to his neck with every goddamn thing she had. And he was right there, catching her, sweeping her off her feet, crushing her close. His cheek rasped against hers like sandpaper but she couldn't possibly care. He was here and he was real and he was hers. There was no mistaking any of that. Once you've been all mixed up with another person's soul, no cheap knock-off can fool you ever again. "But where did you come from? Where have you been?"

"Here. Searching for you. And then quite suddenly, without the slightest warning, there you were." He set her on her feet, but kept his arms tight around her waist. She didn't mind. "And now that we are reunited, we can combine our forces to divine a way out of this wasteland," he said with the usual Crane confidence. Of course there was a way out. Of course they would find it. Of course.

So how did she tell him? How could she tell him what she suspected, what she was pretty sure was true? That sometimes there isn't a way out, that sometimes the road just dead-ends? Literally?

"I don't know that it's gonna be quite as easy as you think it is," she stumbled.

"Have a care not to place words in my mouth. Never once did I say such a feat would be accomplished with ease, only that it would be accomplished. General Washington once said-"

"Crane." She placed a hand on either side of his face, stroking his cheeks like she would pet an overexcited puppy. "I don't think General Washington can help us right now. Because I'm pretty sure we...well, I think we died."

It was hard to know, since she didn't have a ton of experience with dying. But all they'd given so much of themselves. How could there have been any animating force left to keep a body going? And there was that yawning nothingness that loomed large in her memory, that time that just wasn't. Even when you're asleep, even when you're unconscious, there's still a faint heartbeat, a primal knowledge that you're still there. Still you. But there was only a void. And here they were, in a literal white light situation. Add up all the pieces and it equals dead.

"Ye of little faith," he said with a cocksure smile. "We couldn't possibly be dead. Well, not yet, to be quite precise about it. We've still five and one-half years more to go. This is merely a minor detour. We shall-"

"No, she's right." Reyes was a sudden dark blot against the searing whiteness. "You're dead."

"Impossible," Crane said.

"Perfectly possible. It's impressive, really. You two can't even manage to die at the right time." She cut them both a disgusted look. "What did you think was going to happen when you started tearing off chunks of your souls and throwing them around like confetti?"

"I thought we'd stop the Horseman of Pestilence," Abbie said. Worry bloomed in her stomach. It was okay if they died. Were gonna die eventually anyway. But if they'd done all that and he was still riding, then- "We did, right? Stop him?"

"That you did. And stopped yourself right along with him. Mazel tov."

"In the absence of stronger guidance, we did what we thought best. If there was a simpler solution, the time to have provided it was yesterday," Crane spit. "Rather than jeering at us after the fact."

"I underestimated both your resourcefulness and your stupidity. You're right, my fault." She shrugged. "Anyway, thanks for your service. We all appreciate it. We'll get you processed and on to the next step here shortly. I've got things to do." She turned on her sensible heel and raised a hand in goodbye.

Abbie dashed forward to snag the back of her jacket. No way she was just walking—or poofing—out of here and leaving them. "Wait. Jenny, Macey, all of them. Are they okay? Did Irving survive? The plague, is it manageable? What's happening in Sleepy Hollow?"

"You can check in on them when you get upstairs. But they're not your concern any more." Reyes sounded as gentle as she ever had. "It's time to let someone else handle it."

"But we are the Witnesses. This charge was given us for a reason. We can't merely relinquish our responsibility because something as trifling as death got in the way." The ends of his sentences lilted up. Jesus. First Reyes being nice, now Crane being uncertain. She couldn't deal with everyone around her cracking up.

"When the torch falls, someone else takes it up. That's the way of warriors. You know that," Reyes said.

"That's not our way. Nuh uh." Abbie didn't know many things for sure. Couldn't even say if tomorrow the sun would rise over Sleepy Hollow. But she knew beyond any shadow of doubt that they were not done. "You have to send us back. Pull some Lazarus voodoo, do what you gotta. Just get us back in the fight."

"Look, I thought you'd be...not happy about dying, but relieved. Whatever happened to Little Miss Take This Cup Away from Me?" Reyes folded her arms across her chest, one foot tapping impatiently on the ether.

"I still don't know why I was chosen. But I was. And you can make fun all you want, but we got shit done." Her voice broke. She wasn't expecting that. And she wasn't going to fall apart in front of goddamn Reyes. She closed her eyes for just a moment, blessed relief against the glaring brightness. She saw Sleepy Hollow, nestled in its little valley beside its little river. She saw Jenny and Macey and all her brothers and sisters at the police station and Millie at the diner and all the people beyond them, people she would never meet who counted on them without knowing that they did. And she fastened a firm stare at the angel. "It's my town. My world. My fight." Crane's hand fell heavily on her shoulder. "Our fight. Let us finish it."

"You still wind up here. Old age, white picket fences, that's not in the cards for you. You go back down there, it's only gonna be harder when it's permanent," Reyes warned, her eyes bright and black like a bird's.

"Please," Crane said softly. Reyes quirked a brow at Abbie. She drew in a deep breath. Knew she was gonna regret this decision ten times a day for five and a half years. She could be up here, safe and peaceful and sipping on piña coladas or whatever the fuck people did in heaven. She was going back to blood and mud and pain and exhaustion and loss. But she would do it. And she would do her best to be glad for every second of it.

"Please," she echoed.

Reyes laughed. It was one of the most disturbing sounds Abbie had ever heard. "You surprised me. I woulda just shipped your asses right back down regardless of what you wanted, but my Lord said you had to have the choice. Had to ask for it. I wasn't sure, but Lori and Katrina, they said I was crazy if I thought either one of you would say no."

Abbie and Crane exchanged a quick, puzzled glance. "This was some kind of test? And you—you talked to my mom about it? And Katrina?"

"It's always a test." Reyes began to draw in the air with one finger, trails of light following her movements.

Her mom was in heaven. And that meant... "Can we see them? Before we go?" It'd be awkward with Katrina, but from the faint shine in Crane's eyes, she knew it would mean so much to him, even for a second. And there were things she could say, things they could talk about and make clear-

"Not yet." More light now. Moving faster and faster. She didn't think it was possible, but the whiteness seemed even whiter. "But they see. And they know. And they're okay."

The light concentrated around Reyes, growing and growing, so bright Abbie threw up a hand to shade her eyes as Reyes—as Uriel—burned, as she stretched tall over them like a pillar of flame.

"Tell us what's to come!" Crane shouted, but the light ignited his words and sent them spewing into the air like ash.

The angel extended a fiery sword, heat and light pulsing over them in agonizing waves. They clung to each other as the flames devoured them, and just as the light tore them apart, one word pounded in their ears and in their hearts:

"Victory."

She never knew souls were so big. Being resurrected was like trying to shove ten pounds of shit into a five pound bag. Her body felt like it was going to shred apart and leave a steaming pile of intestines and soul shards lying right there on the scuffed floor of the sheriff's department.

But somehow, she came back together, and the pain ebbed. Oh, it didn't go away, but it faded to the point that she could pry her eyes open and survey the scene. Which was the chaos she had predicted. Only minutes had passed—bodies littered the hallway, most moving feebly. The unafflicted officers dashed around in a disorganized shambles, checking pulses, screaming into walkie-talkies, stumbling blindly.

One body, only feet from her, was notably still. Irving.

Crane stirred. She gave him a quick once over; he looked like hell, which was ironic enough to give her a little smile. "You okay?"

"Marvelous," he groaned. "And you?"

"Never better." They staggered to their feet. "Get Jenny and Macey. Get them somewhere safe and start figuring out what comes next."

"And what will you do?"

She leaned up and kissed him for not nearly long enough. "Take care of my town. See you soon."

But it wasn't soon. Abbie—her name miraculously cleared by a certain captain-cum-celestial-being—coordinated first response all over the county. The plague was milder, human, treatable, but ERs and intensive care units were still swamped. Many of the mysterious cops who appeared in town at Irving's command disappeared, leaving them short-staffed. A few demonic flare-ups had to be put down; they were half-hearted and leaderless, but still took time and an ungodly amount of artillery to deal with.

Crane had his own business to tend to, playing nursemaid to Jenny (who didn't take kindly to being nursemaided) and reuniting Macey with her mother. The child mourned her father and her legs, though the former earned the lion's share of her grief. Then there were endless hours of research, advising Abbie from afar and casting his gaze to the future; it appeared that the Antichrist would be making his debut in short order.

Days sprinted by. If they were lucky, they saw each other for a few moments before collapsing into exhausted sleep. If they weren't, Abbie bedded down on a sagging cot in the Sheriff's department, and phone calls and text messages had to do.

Until one day, without any real warning, things were normal. Ish. Okay, so there was a troll living under the Tappan Zee Bridge and a ghoul camping out in Philpse Manor, but that was just kinda par for the course. Jenny was up and about and Macey was back in the city.

Abbie came home from her shift—she'd never thought she'd be so glad to give Bob Joosten a ticket for public urination—and held out her hand to Crane. "Will you take the air with me?" she asked.

He scowled down at his reading. "As soon as I have uncovered the meaning of the petrogylph you discovered on Sylvan Road. I suspect it may be-"

"Walk with me," she said. "Please."

He looked up, lips parted. The annoyance seeped from his features as he recognized his own invitation from a lifetime ago. And he took her hand.

They walked a familiar path, through the abandoned lot, winding through Douglas Park, and down to the Pocantico. Even though they had scarcely seen each other for days, they were silent. That felt right. Once Crane would have babbled about any and everything to avoid the quiet. Now, they both knew that a glance or a touch could say more than all the words in all the world ever could.

They sat under a canopy of fall-touched leaves and dangled their feet over a river that had once turned to blood at their command; that had once borne witness to their greatest act of courage.

"We've not spoken of the events of that day," Crane said as the sun slipped below the horizon, turning the world to shades of silver and gold. "How, for a moment, you and I became as one."

"What did you want to talk about?" She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"I had thought—I had feared—that perhaps you were discomfited at the closeness such a thing required." His fingers trickled through her hair.

She hadn't had time to think about it, let alone be "discomfited" by it. But now that she had the luxury of time the answer was clear. "No. I'm still scared of lots of things. Letting the world end. Letting down the people I care about. Bats." His soft laugh rumbled through her. "But I'm not scared of you seeing me. Knowing me. Loving me." Despite her bravado, that last word still caught in her throat. But she got it out. It sounded true. Felt true.

"I am pleased to know that my affection for you is less frightening than a flying rat," he teased. And he kissed her. And she kissed him. And one thing led to another which led to a pile of clothes on the darkened river bank.

"You ever hear of skinny dipping, Ichabod?" They lay limp and languid in the grass, the cool breeze raising thousands of goosebumps.

"It sounds rather unpleasant, to be quite honest."

"I promise it's not." She grazed her teeth against his neck and she grinned as even more goosebumps erupted.

"Mm. Very well. What must we do?"

She tugged him grumblingly to his feet. "We jump."

He eyed the chilly river below. "Are you certain?"

"Yeah. I am." She extended her hand. He took it. Together, they leaped off the edge and into the unknown.

The End.