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The first thing she feels is the light. It hit her like a truck, blinding and disorienting. Less than a moment before she was in complete darkness and now her entire body aches from the light like it is trying to force its way not only into her eyes, into every pore of her skin, into her spirit too.
Then there’s the piercing cold. She remembers the water. The water in the well had no substance, it was like swimming through bad air, but here it prickles and burns at her skin, and it seems endless. The slippery walls of the well are gone now and there is only cold, empty space and harsh light.
As she starts moving her limbs, disoriented, blinded and skin burning cold, she feels the light become brighter. She feels like an eternity in the shadows had made her forget how powerful it is. Despite it all, she keeps swimming towards it, working on instincts. This pain is better than the numbness of the eternity she just broke free from. She relishes in it. She breaches the surface, taking in her first breath, harsh and desperate and ecstatic. It feels like a rebirth. The pain and pleasure of feeling, one blending into the other, making them indistinguishable at times, is a gift she savors with every fiber of her being as her body readjusts to a world that isn’t in a state of infinite stagnation.
Time did not exist in the abyss of the catacombs. Neither did life or death. It was impossible to know whether she'd been imprisoned in it's emptiness for days or years. The sudden realization of this as her vision begins to adapt to the light and she makes her way towards what she believes is the shore fills her heart with dread and guilt: "How long have I been gone? How long has my family been looking for me? Are they still alive? What threats was I not able to protect them from while I was missing?". All these questions clouding her mind as slowly, she starts to take in her surroundings.
She doesn’t even question her use of the word “family”. The one thing that is clear to her now: Everyone around her, everyone who has helped her survive this long, and fight this fight is her family.
She recognizes the Hudson River; Abbie Mills is home.
“Oh thank God.” she says it without much of a voice. It comes out in a hoarse whisper. Her relief is only temporary because, just as she says it, the doubts and guilt make their way back to the forefront of her mind.
Out of the water, shivering, Abbie starts making her way towards the nearest road, pushing away her fears. She cannot allow herself to entertain even the possibility that Ichabod hasn't followed her back. She tells herself that he would surely be at the Archives waiting for her. This is where she needs to go. This is where she will find him.
…
“The candle is supposed to be a tether. It should have snapped him back.” Abbie recognizes Jenny’s voice right away.
She doesn’t need to wonder what her sister is talking about. The feelings she's been keeping at bay resurfacing and she feels like a fist is closing around her heart. She keeps on walking nonetheless and enters the room.
“It was cut.” is the only thing she can think to say. She tries to sound strong but her voice comes out weak and trembling. Jenny spins around at the sound of Abbie’s voice. “Abbie!” she shouts it, a bit louder than intended. It also comes out shaky. Like her body is finally allowing her to let go of the constant dread that has been pulling at her for the last few weeks.
The younger Mills sister rushes forward to grab her big sister and hug her. She cries silently in her arms. Holding her like to make sure that she’s really there and it isn't just a dream or a ghost. Abbie holds on as hard as she can. She want to lose herself in her sister’s love. Her body almost forgot what love feels like and it hit her like a wave. She wants to stay this way forever. But she knows it has to end. She welcomes the loss of the moment, the finite nature of it, as another proof she is back in her own world. She opens her eyes and sees Joe and goes to him as soon as her sister let her go. She truly feels grounded in reality now that she is with her family, now that she can see them, and touch them and smell them.
Then she sees Ichabod, still unconscious, sitting in the big, ornate chair. She moves fast towards him
“No, no, no… you were supposed to follow me back.” she says, her voice is filled with worry.
She brushes his cheek with her fingers.
“I told you to stay with me, Crane.”
The hand she had put on his cheek, is now under his chin, propping his head up. The light pouring in from the windows shines on his face, painting his skin golden. The image, almost like a living painting strikes her. For the first time she seems to realize how beautiful he is. She’s always found him good-looking, but this is different. It’s like she’s seeing him beyond his physical appearance. In a small moment she finally understands the meaning of their bond. She already knows they are soulmates, they’ve been told often her and Crane. But she never really understood what it meant until now. It’s not about two halves of a soul finding each other, but two complete beings, in all their glory, finding each other. Together defying time, defying god and the devil himself. And those two beings as they collide become divine.
Abbie takes Ichabod's left hand in her free hand, holding hard.
She pushes her forehead up against his, trying to push back the feeling of tears stinging her eyes.
“Please, come back to me. We were supposed to make it out together” she says, her voice breaking slightly.
He’s warm against her skin.
She takes a breath, steadying herself.
“I need you Ichabod.” It escaped from her mouth, a whispered prayer for him only to hear.
There’s a spark and a flash of light that, unlike Joe and Jenny, she ignores. Next to them the candle had lights back up. She ignores it too, instead keeping her eyes locked on Ichabod.
A moment passed, then Ichabod awakes, Taking in a sharp breath, like Abbie had done when she reached the surface of the Hudson.
…
The first thing he sees once his vision returns and his eyes become accustomed to the light is her face, her brown skin glowing in the sunlight. He thought her a heavenly messenger before he recognized her. He looks at her like she is a godsend, he truly believes she is, always has. Her eyes are wide; she looks more vulnerable than he’s ever seen her before, even in the catacombs.
“Abbie?”, he pauses, taking in the sight, hoping it’s real. He reaches out, trying to touch her. He doesn’t even see Joe and Jenny until they are on him. Nevertheless, he keeps looking at Abbie. “In the darkness, I heard your voice… I followed it”
Abbie’s voice is trembling again “We made it.”
Ichabod acknowledges his friends who helped him find Abbie as they both exit the room to allow the witnesses to have a moment.
Abbie can barely look at him now, pointlessly trying to look strong but her eyes darting away when the emotion become too overwhelming; he can’t look away from her. He loses himself in her, her face, her vulnerability, her soul; he sees her like he's never seen anyone before. His love for her is clearer than anything else has ever been in his life. Every challenge and all the obstacles he has gone through has brought him here, soul bared and pure. In front of his soulmate, the woman he loves more than he has ever loved anyone or anything in his entire existence. He caresses her hand softly and refuses to let go.
...
Abbie starts crying. For the first time allowing herself to be seen without barriers as her small hands are enveloped in Ichabod's. He looks at her like he’s trying to memorize every single detail about her: her hands; the length of her fingers, he brushes his fingers over her nails to feel the texture and admires the shades of brown of her skin.
He looks back at her and brings one of his hands to her face, wiping away a tear. Their eyes locked on one another.
Time stops, or that’s what it feels like until Ichabod breaks the silence.
“May I kiss you?” he asks, his voice raw and desperate
“God, Yes.” she answers, her voice breaking again and as tears started to roll down her cheeks again.
With his hand still on her face he brings his face close to her. Their foreheads touching and their lips brushing slightly, sending shivers through them. All of their nerves light up like a fire as they press their lips together.
Abbie Mills and Ichabod Crane are one. Bound together for eternity.