#abe x reader

Not since before the cold, wooden floor of the manor was firm against your back, blood splattered across the oak and your shirt. Wilford's disheartened look and the detectives body the last thing you'd seen.

Space doesn't have time, always too dark to know what's night and what's morning or when lunchtime truly is. It's unnerving in a way, how quickly you lose ingrained routine for the vastness of space. But how different is the inner city from space? Times comes and goes and you wake and you sleep and the world moves on with or without you.

A too-loud rumble of a car startles you from low murmur of the TV - some rerun of an old show you've never seen before yet have seen a million times - and the coldness of the seat next to you. An army of throw blankets swarm around your waist, disregarded by their other - better - half, and missing the warmth he provided.

Abe.

Pushing the comfort of the blankets away from you, you stood from the worn, leather couch. The deep brown reminding you of the jacket Abe had been wearing when you'd found him again; the reason you'd insisted you just had to have it.

Many a night had been spent curled on that couch: a book, a movie, a shitty rerun of a tv show and some good snacks and company. Not tonight though, Abe's smell withdrawn from the blankets and his warmth gone from your hold.

Padding through the kitchen, past the small island littered with unopened letters, house keys and empty takeout boxes, you pull your sleeves down and the window up. Slipping through the cracked open window, you closed it behind you - not wanting the crisp air to invade the warmth of the apartment that you had been so preciously holding onto.

Rain drips over the ledge of the roof, splashing against the metal of the fire-escape balcony and beginning to soak through Abe's shirt. How long had you let him be out here?

Sneaking closer to the broad-shouldered man, you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head against the back of his shoulder.

"You shouldn't smoke; it'll kill you, you know." Abe looked down at his shirt-clad chest, his trembling hands coming to rest against and smooth out the fabric.

"Too late for that." He snarled, immediately apologising for his bitter tone and moving away from you. What was going on?

You often struggled to come to grips with the reality you found yourself in: the warped perception of life a side effect of falling through wormhole after wormhole. You'd awake from a dream that felt too real, just another reality you'd been briefly trapped in, sweating and screaming and crying out for Abe. Who was at your side, thankfully.

Night after night you dreaded the day would come where you'd awake to no Abe by your side, back in that cryopod with a glowing crystal in your hand. And Abe did everything he could on those nights to assure you it wasn't real.

He'd hold you, sooth you until you were fast asleep once again; promise he was here and not going anywhere while consumed with guilt at the white lie. Abe could not guarantee you that he'd come home each night, the work of a detective hard and demanding, so when he was there he made it count.

Except for on nights like these.

Abe constantly worried about you; worried you'd disappear again, die again, wake up alone and panicked because of his job. Fully driven by the idea it was all his fault, he'd made a point to tell you all of his partner had died, gone, been left behind - and yet he'd given you the title as though he was okay with that.

Letting out a deep sigh, he sat down on the steps of the fire escape that lead up to the next floor, taking a long drag from his cigarette before turning to face the sky, white smoke puffed into the black night.

Though your eyes had not left him, you now turned to face him, taking small almost meek steps towards your beloved detective. Taking one of his hands in your own, you caress the side of his face; a silent plea to talk to you.

Abe placed his other hand atop the two connected ones, giving them a gentle squeeze. The lit cigarette balanced between rosy lips, chapped by the cold and wind.

Slowly, he lowers his hands, his firm grip coming to rest on your hips. Gently he pulls you down onto his knee; your legs slotting between his own and an arm coming to rest across his broad shoulders. Resting your hand at the nape of his neck you begin to lightly scratch at the stubble there.

Abe's long-lost look dissolves from his face, his forehead knocking lovingly against your temple as he turns to face you, faces far too close for friendship.

But were you more then friends? You'd been friends when you met, and he held you like a lover. Looked at you as though you were his reason to go on and joked with you like a friend. You'd been everything and nothing entirely - something too complicated to put labels on; labels you'd love to see. But knowing Abe was yours was what mattered, and that he was.

"A penny for your thoughts dear?" Abe shakes his head, taking another drag from his cigarette then harshly blowing it out. "Don't give me that, I know something is wrong."

Taking his lit cigarette from where it was loosely held between his fingers, you took a long drag - holding the fumes in for a brief moment before teasingly blowing it in Abe's face. You move the cig back up to his lips and allow him to take a drag, then swiftly move it away from his face. Shuffling closer, you lean down; almost too close, a hairs length separating the two of you. You knock your nose against his, waiting for him to meet your eyes before you clumsily slot your lips against his own.

Abe instantly melts into the kiss, the smoke leaving his lungs as he brushes chapped lips against soft ones.

"Talk to me." You plead, wanting to know what was going on in his head. One hundred thoughts at once and you were ninety-nine of them; that one unused was reserved for whatever case he had been working on in that moment.

"Do you ever wish we were just the detective and the district attorney? And nothing more."

A daunting question. Life had been simpler then, sure, but the whirlwind of emotions Abe maybe you feel you wouldn't change for the world. Sometimes you don't think you were ever truly alive until you walked into the manor; Abe leaning against the doorframe of Mark's house while you were lounged across once of his many loveseats. It was like you were living for the first time meeting his eyes; as though you'd been born just in the doorway and he was the first thing you ever truly saw.

"What about less?" You asked, hoping and pleading that Abe got the sentiment behind your words: you didn't want less with him, you wanted security.

That's what Abe and you both lacked in this lifetime; knowledge that you would wake up beside the other everyday and that everything would be okay, safe and the same.

You would try and give him that, no matter the cost.

"Less is fine; good even. It's safe." Running your fingers along the back of Abe's neck lovingly, you lulled him into your touch, letting him really feel the heat radiating from your palm and know you were there. Right now. With him. Safe and sound.

The murmur of whatever you had been watching on the tv fades away and in its place is some 70s song - slow and relaxing - it's tune instantly making sleep sink into your bones and fill you with comfort.

"Dance with me?" You asked, barely above a whisper, Abe's head still resting against your own. "While I'm awake enough to."

Abe grunts displeasingly, and you think for a moment he's going to say no, then pushes you from his lap and the idea is almost confirmed. Though he pulls you close to him as he stands; you resting your head against his soft shirt and muscular chest beneath it. The brisk night air was harsh against your exposed skin eliciting a shiver - the cold quickly soothed from your skin by Abe's arms atop your own. Keeping you close and keeping the cold away.

Abe's hand snake away from yours: one reaching for your hand and pulling the intertwined pair up to the side of you, the other curling around your lower back and trying to pull you impossibly closer. Your own free arm is tucked under his, laying flat up against his back, allowing you to tuck yourself into his side slightly, hiding you away from the cold night air.

The pair of you move slow, in sync with the other and simply stepping from side to side, relishing in the moment of simplicity with the other.

"I'm glad it was you - this version of you - I found." You admitted, sheepish blush hidden by the dark of the sky and the way your head was tucked beneath Abe's. "All the other you's I encountered, they didn't have your eyes. Sure, they had your face, your smile or your charm; but they never had your eyes."

"I'm glad it was me too sweetheart." Abe chuckled, voice becoming raspy with need for sleep, night slipping further and further into day under the lights of the city. Rain became drizzle, the occasional pitter patter against the metal staircase reminding you it had rained at all.

You continued to sway to the lull of the song, recognising it to be the same that had played when you returned to Wilford's roller-rink , but choosing to keep that a secret for only yourself to indulge in. The only two times you had slow-danced with Abe were to this song, and you hoped it would be the only one you'd ever slow-dance to and he'd be the only one you'd ever slow-dance with.

As the song came to a sullen end, Abe pulled away from you, but only enough to look at your face. His eyes scoured across your features, taking across your face from your lips to your eyes and back: whatever he was thinking he settles for a chaste kiss against your forehead that makes you crinkle your eyebrows up at the ticklish sensation.

"You know, I'm glad that - even in another life - I got to travel the stars with you." Abe whispered his admission, something shy about it. You'd never mentioned how Gunther specifically looked like Abe; the ADS lead having you wrapped around his finger in ways you didn't even realise.

You'd almost called him Abe the first time you met him; everything about him all to similar to someone else. However, the first time he took off those sunglasses in front of you, you knew he wasn't your Abe, just some lookalike.

Though Abe had recalled your words at the roller-rink, in fact he thought of them often. About how somewhere out there you'd already found him; and somewhere out there you'd do it again. Somewhere, somehow - just like you'd half promised him before your forced departure from the disco.

"You'd have hated it up there. It's lonely."

"Not when I'm with you; never when I'm with you." Abe had always had a way with words; from your first meeting till now, he never failed to make you turn red at his sweet sentences.

"Whatever you say, pretty boy." You teased, pushing away from your detective and heading back towards the window, sliding it open enough to creep back inside and turning to face Abe. Palm outstretched you waited for him to take your hand, moving deeper inside the warmth of the apartment with Abe now in tow.

Pulling him by your connected hands, you led him through the messy room; ignoring the coat that had fallen from the hanger and the mess of blankets and pillows you had left on the couch, deciding they were all things that could be dealt with come morning or sunshine, whatever came first.

Arriving in your shared bedroom, you began to undo the buttons of his shirt, his tie already hung loose enough to slip over his head and onto the desk, ready to use tomorrow. Abe stood there, looking at you in complete admiration as you took him through the motions: helping him get out of his work clothes and into his pyjamas as though it was routine.

Falling back into the mattress and mess of a duvet, still unmade from the morning before, you pulled Abe with you, shuffling up the bed to meet the pillow and letting out a deep sigh; sleep seeping into your bones once again as you finally, truly, relaxed. Shuffling about you made yourself comfortable, leaning into Abe's warmth though giving him enough space to get comfy himself.

It didn't take long for sleep to overcome you, time warped and unusual under the bright, city lights. But Abe watched until gentle snores left your chest, scratching his fingers against your scalp lovingly as he waited for you to fall fast asleep, dream of lands far away. Though not far away enough that you'd wake with a start worried he was long gone and this was all a dream.

Abe often found it hard to come to terms with the fact you were actually here, next to him once again, and that you wouldn't be gone the next time he woke up like the you he saw in his deluded drunken stupors and after a particularly shitty nights sleep.

And though Abe had never been a religious man, he thanked any God out there that you had been returned to his side.

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Hello my lovies!! This brings us to the end of this little Abe series I had planned. I love Abe and there's so little about him so I decided to be the change I wanted to see in the world.

You were upset with him, in a way. But instead of letting him catch a glimpse of your frown, you turned back to look out the window at the expanse of the new planet. Taking a long sip from your 'no.1 captain' mug, filled with coffee just the way you liked it.

Easing out of cryosleep, you'd heard, was difficult. And you hoped that the steaming liquid would help ease that process.

It wouldn't help ease your racing thoughts.

You wished you could go back, stop mark from pulling the glowing crystal from your palm. You can remember the searing pain of the objects being pulled from flesh; a part of you taken. Both in the physical and emotional.

With the removal, and later destruction, of the crystal, you lost all hopes of ever finding Abe again.

It was a good thing you hadn't promised your safe return. Or your return at all for that matter.

"Thank you." You finally spoke, letting Mark hear your voice for the first time. You were well known for your choice to stay quiet upon the ship - talking could build an attachment that would be ripped from your hands before you knew it.

It wasn't a risk you often sought to take after the events of the manor.

"Thank you for sticking by my side, believing in me; even when I didn't." Mark's eyes widened, then softened at your gentle tone and soothing words - more and more in awe of the beloved captain. "You're the best head engineer I could've asked for."

"Friend." You quickly corrected, turning and placing the cup of coffee on the ledge of the bridges console. "The best friend I could've asked for."

"Why captain-" Raising your hand, you silence Mark, placing your hand on his shoulder and squeezing it gently.

Removing yourself from him, you nodded a goodbye - one that felt more of a permanent then it should have - walking away from the bridge and into the bowels of the ship, hoping to find something to distract your aching heart with.

You'd left Abe behind yet again. How many years had he spent fighting to avenge you? Keep your memory alive? To find any remainder of you that there was out there? And how quickly had you given up on finding again him in return?

Wondering the corridors of the ship, you trailed your finger along the raw flesh of your palm, one bound to scar - a slight reminder that this was real. Not another wormhole you'd fallen through and would inevitably leave. Not a reality you could so easily escape and potentially find Abe again.

Sometimes you felt as though you missed the ever-falling wormholes; the limitless edge it gave to life. There had been no permanence in your torment - every gunshot, explosion, death being undone just as quickly as it had occurred. Though you supposed, after all, it was still torment you were going through; limitless or not.

You wince at the notion; an echo of an old saying about things seeming better once long lost rather then in the moment. Maybe it was true.

In all your memories Abe was encased in glimmers of gold; a spectre of a person. A sight to be seen. He encapsulated every thought he was a part of, every room he walked into. However, you knew Abe was equally as good in the past as you knew he would be in the present and future - if you could ever find him again.

The halls of the Invincible had never seemed so lonely - so quiet and lifeless. Even when you'd first stepped on the ship it'd been full on from the get go and roaring with life, but now it was so, so quiet. So many members of your crew were already bound for the new planet, pretty much only you and Mark remaining.

Sometimes you pitied the man you would call your closest friend; he appeared to fawn over you often, though you knew his affections would never be returned: your heart too concerned with the likes of another.

Bitter and broken by a love never flourished, never allowed to live in the sunlight, breath in the crisp, spring air.

So when you noticed the flashing of lights from underneath the door separating you from the tunnel to the warp core, you were very surprised. Maybe even slightly scared.

Thoughts raced through you mind; maybe this was all, indeed, another trick of of a shimmer and swirl of hues of blue. Rubbing your finger against the flesh of your palm, you assured yourself that wasn't true.

Approaching the door with caution, you leant into it, listening Intently for any sign of who - or what - would be waiting for you on the other side. When your ears were met with the melodic beats of some random 70's song, you pressed your hand against the scanner opening the door as quickly as you could.

"You're not supposed to be here yet!" Wilford. You had never been happier to see the man before you; clad in a bright orange shirt and swaying from side to side in time with the music. The same as when you'd left him, though missing the bubble-gum pink curls from his head. "Or are you?"

Wilford's dancing came to a sudden stop, questioning the thought seeming to take up all of his focus and energy. Tapping his forefinger against his chin, he took occasional sips from whatever fruity cocktail he held loosely in his grasp. "Time is a tedious thing isn't it."

That was the biggest understatement you'd ever heard. Tears began to well in your eyes at the notion - terrified that this was just your mind playing tricks on you, and scared for what his appearance could truly mean.

It was always hard to tell; your old friend filled with tricks up his sleeve you swore not even he knew of.

"Will? What are you-"

"I've heard I owe you a favour." He groaned, throwing his hands up into the air in defeat, a frown settling on his face. Always the dramatic; something you finally came to appreciate as you stood before him in the warp core tunnel. "From me - or someone else; perhaps even you, my dear. I was told it was the least I could do."

Abe.

You remembered the moment as clear as day; though how could you forget? Falling through universe after universe, you couldn't stop thinking about the devastated look that creased Abe's brow when he pleaded - begged - Wilford to do something, anything, to keep you with him.

The man who he hated more then anything, the man who he blamed for your death - his own death too - had had Abe at his complete and utter mercy. If only he had been able to do something.

God, how you wished you had done anything, tried anything, to stay by his side while you had the chance. A certain, honest chance.

But you had a duty to your crew: to get them to the new planet safely.

Now though, your duty was done, colonists and crew alike headed for the safety of ground. A new planet, that you weren't needed on; one that could easily be governed by Mark or Celci. One you hoped you wouldn't be joining them on, especially if Wilford had given himself the chance to intervene.

"Well, come on!" Wilford whined, stomping his foot against the ground as he gestured for you to come closer. "I don't have all the time in the world."

You let out a short laugh at Wilford's words. Almost ironic from him. Though you doubted that he had as much time as you liked to think, he certainly had more then you - him seeming to come and go as he pleased.

Taking off your red beret, you placed it against the door to the corridor, rubbing the soft material with the tips of your fingers. You had been through so much together; you and Mark, you and the Invincible II, you and that silly little beret.

It was time to let go: it was okay to let go. And so you did, with a whisper of an apology to Mark you stood and faced Wilford. It was okay to be selfish for once, just this once.

Wasting no more time, you sprinted to the other end of the corridor, right before the entrance to the finally calm warp core and into Wilford's open arms. Colliding into the taller man, you wrapped him in a hug, standing on the tips of your toes to throw your arms over his shoulders.

He pulled you in tightly to his side, an arm snaking around your waist. Wrapping your own arms around him tighter in return, you braced yourself, not knowing what would come next. At a cry to 'hold on' you squeezed the tipsy man even tighter, buzzing with a mix of fear and excitement.

As you tightly closed your eyes, you didn't see the swirls of pink, white and sparkles open beneath you, however you did feel the wind sweep through your hair as you fell downwards at an alarming and increasing rate.

Even as you came to a standstill, you held tightly onto Wilford. Allowing yourself to slowly become adjusted to the flashing lights and streamers that filled the corridor you'd landed in.

"It still- it looks the exact same as last time." You muttered, slowly pulling away from Will and looking at the four walls of the white corridor.

"It's not been long since you've gone; maybe for you, but not here." Wilford explained another fruity drink appearing in his hand at the click of his fingers. "He's been dancing, taking a break. Though he looks for you in everything."

Your heart warmed at the thought you'd have such an effect on the handsome detective; you'd have never imagined you would. He knew you loved him, as you knew he loved you. Never having said the words out loud don't change that fact.

"The wind would blow and he'd hear your call, the song would change and he'd swear it sounded like someone he knew. You're all he thinks about. It seems as though you’ve completely and utterly consumed him."

Even in the daze of disco, he kept looking for you in everything, everywhere. Fuck. How could you have ever been so willing to give up on finding him?

Though willing wasn't a good word, how else could you explain it? You had believed it wasn't achievable and you had resigned to that fact.

"What if I'm not what-"

"No time for doubtful thoughts." Wilford mused, stepping closer to you and putting a gentle, guiding hand on the small of your back. "You've done your duty, as a good captain should: a mighty fine duty if I might say. Take this moment."

Wilford slowly moved you closer to the streamers, wherein you could push through at any moment and make your presence know to Abe; find him once again. Will never pushed you through, knowing this was not something to rush, you'd already served your time apart and he wouldn't be one to force you back together.

This was a choice you needed to make alone. Braving the unknown of the roller rink behind the multicoloured streamers. For who knew what really rested behind their shroud?

After all, life was now yours to choose.

With a deep intake of breath, you pushed through the streamers, running out into the midst of the roller-rink disco dancers. Scanning the room, you finally made eye contact with the back of a suave leather jacket, clad on broad shoulders. Opposite him was the pink-haired Wilford you'd recognised from your last visit to the disco, a wide smile on his face and a cocktail in his hand.

This was it.

Standing firm in your place, you called out to the charming detective, your voice a whisper in the wind amongst the volume of the music and the chatter of the crowd. Abe still heard by some magic, and turned as he always did when he thought he'd heard any kind of resemblance of you: though this time there you were, at the other end of the call.

The detective whispered out your name, a crooked smile curling onto his face as he stopped dancing for the first time since returning back to the disco.

You'd come back for him - to him - and in that moment he can't imagine that you didn't promise your return. Even when you weren't sure yourself he knew, that somehow, somewhere, you would come back to him. You had ensured that to him after all. And God, was he thankful you’d chose this time, this place, this Abe to come back to.

Closing the distance between the two of you, you crashed into your lovers arm, your hands twisting into the leather jacket and holding him tight against you. At the momentum of your impact, Abe lifted you off of your feet and into the air, twirling the two of you around as a boisterous laugh came from the caverns of his chest.

A wide smile settled on the detectives face as he caressed your cheek, his hands guiding both body and face closer to him. He drunk in the sight of you; forehead pressed so close to his own that he could only see the reflection of the strobe lights in your eyes and feel the outline of you against himself. Breathing, heaving, alive enough.

Placing your hand on top of Abe's, you leaned deeper into his touch, closing your eyes and absorbing the feel of him - the blaring music of the disco drowning out and away as you relished in his touch at last.

Slowly the two of you began to sway to the music, it becoming more slow and sensual since your arrival at the roller rink disco. Wrapped in each other's arms, you let yourself get lost in the song and each other; the warmth, the smell, everything.

When had you last seen him so happy? You couldn't quite place a time - maybe at the manor, before things went down how they did, or maybe as he died right in front of you thankful it was him who'd been caught in the crossfire, not you.

That didn't matter now though, what mattered what that he was safe, in your arms and alive enough. And that you'd found him again; somewhere, somehow.

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Hey guys!! Thank you for all the love on part 1. part 3 will be coming soon!!

"Stop stalling! You're under arrest for the deaths of way too many people to even count." Abe. You hadn't heard that voice in what felt like eons - not since the manor, and however many years you had spent falling through wormhole after wormhole.

Your eyes filtered over to the other William, or Wilford as he had referred to himself as, that stood before him - near identical to the one who stood next to you now, bar the cocktail that he sipped from occasionally- boring down the barrel of his gun.

"Well that's just ridiculous I would never kill anybody." Wilford drawled, his speaking slurred as he tried to get the straw of his drink into his mouth; struggling severely besides the simplicity of the task.

Turning to ask the Wilford that stood beside you what was going on, you found him to have disappeared - like magic. Maybe there had only been one Will after all.

Were all those wormholes making you lose your mind?

Probably. You were seeing Abe after all. Abe who you'd watched die at the hands of the Colonel, shortly followed by yourself, after he'd spent so long, and tried so hard to solve Marks murder.

Although, if this is what losing your mind allowed you'd gladly embrace every twist of your imagination and echo of your past.

"Is that right?" Abe asked the pink haired man who stood in front of him, slowly lowering his gun with a twinge of anger in his voice. How long had he been so bitter?

Gently lifting your heavy helmet from your head, you lowered it to your side, holding it loosely between your fingers. You suddenly felt underdressed in your Captains coveralls - as though you'd have ever had time to change - that the outfit was too odd, too unlike the you Abe knew.

That wasn't you anymore.

The District Attorney who had worked hard in Damien's office, who tried to help solve their friends murder, who died trying to protect the people they loved, was long gone. Yet, was your new role of Captain much different from that?

How many times had you jumped into the wormhole? Jumped out of the airlock? Let yourself be consumed by the vastness of space? - to try and save your crew? To try and save Mark? Too many to count.

Perhaps Abe would love you, and your silly, little beret, all the same. Besides, you deserved to be a little selfish for once.

"Well..." Abe pulled a small, grey taser out of his holster, slowly stepping closer and closer to Wilford: who was still entirely focused on the straw in his Martini. "Whatever you say buddy."

The way Abe had spat out the words - as though they had soured on his tongue - did not befall you. Had he been through so much hurt since you saw him last? More than you knew.

Abe's heart ached for you; longed for you to still be by his side, be his partner (in every sense of the word). He kept himself awake at night in anguish, thinking and thinking about what he could've done to save you. After all, he had survived a bullet to the heart hadn't he? Yet, like always, he couldn't save the one who mattered most, his partner - you.

Was it his fault? Probably. Every partner he'd ever had at his side had left, been left behind, died - and he supposed by giving you the title, he had doomed you to such a fate.

He often wished he'd told you to run far away from that goddamn manor at the first sight of danger - but he hadn't, and he would have to live with that.

As Abe stalked towards Wilford, taser in hand, you let out a ghost of a sound - something between gasp and a whine - hoping to stop Abe before he took it too far, but not knowing the words to say, where to begin.

"Abe." You mustered out, hushed words coming out barely above a whisper, though it halted the detective in his tracks all the same.

Lowering the taser, Abe looked to the floor, tears welling in his eyes at the sound. Many times he had heard you calling his name, usually a whisper in the night - a comforting presence when he struggled to sleep - but this time felt too real. As though you were actually stood mere feet behind him and not 6ft below him.

He knew he shouldn't look - knew he would just be getting his hopes up over nothing. You were long, long gone. And a voice in his head is all you would be: yet like every other time he turned his head.

Though this time you were there. Standing, living, breathing mere feet away from him. At least he thought. He'd never seen the ghost of you before, only heard the echos of his past - but if this was him finally going crazy from your haunting presence, then crazy he would be.

"Abe." You chocked out, tears beginning to well in your eyes at the sight of the man before you. A hand came up to clamp over your mouth, to keep the pathetic whimpers in, letting your helmet clatter to the floor - the sound resounding around the near-empty roller rink.

Now Abe turned to fully face you, his eyebrows creasing together as he attempted to keep up his stoic appearance - this wasn't real, and he knew it. You were but a figment of his imagination; his own little secret only he had the joy of being privy too.

"You're not meant to be here!" Wilford slurred, his straw now loosely held between his lips and his martini almost gone. "I thought I told you to stay put y/n."

Will could see you too. Fuck.

Tears begin to rapidly fill Abes waterline as his eye raked up and down your figure - clad in a beige coverall, a little red beret resting disheveled atop your head and a discarded, cracked helmet on the floor. He doubted that it was in such condition minutes ago.

"I just couldn't help myself." You whisper breathlessly, your gaze never breaking away from Abes as you spoke. Finally getting to see him again, you doubted you'd ever be able to look away - not that you'd want to in the first place.

"Well, I guess I can it allow it for the mean time." William huffed folding his arms tightly across his chest, a sulk forming on his face. With a snap of his finger his martini began to refill. "But don't take too long, we've got to get back to our regularly scheduled programming soon."

You let out a teary laugh at Wilford's outlandish wording - ever the dramatic - a trait he and the him you knew seemed to share. Taking a few, small steps closer to Abe, you didn't speak, not wanting to get too close, or say the wrong thing, and startle him into disbelief.

This whole thing felt unreal enough to you, you couldn't imagine how it felt for him. Not only to see you now: but to wake up after being shot and finding you dead, and to spend years dedicating his life to finding your killer only to have you standing before him now.

"Partner?" Abe finally asked, his taser slowly being sheafed into his pocket as he finally took a step in your direction, not moving too fast as though that would make you disappear from his vision - gone like a wisp of smoke.

"Partner." You repeated, somewhat confirming his notion and somewhat using the term of endearment on him too. Talking larger and larger steps across the roller rinks wooden floor, you met each other in the middle, neither touching the other and both heaving in air.

"Are you- are you real?" Abe chocked out, his eyes flickering over every part of you he had been blessed with seeing again - free of blood and injury, filled with life and soul.

"I hope." Not the reply he has wanted, but it suited well enough. It was true, honest at the least - after falling through a myriad of wormholes you didn't quite know yourself, though you hoped now more then ever you were.

Taking another step forward, you were now chest to chest - close enough to feel the other breathe but far enough it could still be a dream.

A twisted dream at that.

Abe raised his hand to ghost above your cheek; almost too scared to touch you, to have you melt away under his finger tips. Though you didn't give him long to worry, leaning into the heat of his palm - skin meeting skin. Abe stilled at the contact, unnerved by the warmth that pooled in his fingertips and sent shivers up his arm and down his spine. You were once again in his arms - or were you?

Abe wasn't going to allow the prying hands of choice to drag you away from him again - in his arms, you would be safe this time. So, his hand swiftly moved to the back of your neck, pulling you against him and tucking your head into the crook of his neck; his free hand snaking around your waist and keeping you tight against him. Twisting his fingers into the fabric of your coveralls, he pressed you as tight against himself as he could.

You couldn't feel the beating of Abe's heart, but you hoped he could feel yours, assure himself you were real. He couldn't. Whatever resemblance of a heartbeat either of you had, had left you as you hit the floor of the manor many moons ago.

"Oh God, I missed you Partner." Abe's voice cracked as he spoke, the flood of emotion overtaking each of his senses. He pulled away slightly from you, enough that he could now clearly see your face - meet your eyes. Slowly, his hand moved from the back of your neck, coming to caress the side of your face. "But what's with the outfit?"

The two of you let out bittersweet, teary laughs, neither surprised by the capability to find such humour in the moment of upset and turmoil. It felt right to laugh in the others arms after all you'd been through.

You gently rested your forehead against Abe's, relishing in the moment and committing every detail of his face to memory - not knowing when you'd get to see it next. Though you hoped you'd see it today and tomorrow, and every day for the rest of your life - you couldn't exactly trust that would be the case.

Not when the crystal in your palm could start burning against you and whisk you away down another wormhole at any moment.

"I have so much I want to say." You spluttered, leaning into Abe's hand as you hiccuped out a sob. Abe's thumb brushed gently across your cheek, wiping away the escaped tears, hushing you soothingly. "I don't even know where to begin."

"Take your time gorgeous, we've got worlds of time." You didn't. Abe didn't know, you couldn't blame him for the way his words made you sob harder then before. Dropping your head into the crook of his neck, you grabbed fistfuls of his leather jacket, hoping a tight hold on him would keep him there with you.

"A captain doesn't leave their ship when it's sinking; now do they?" Wilford asked, his Martini once again empty and the straw still evading his tongue. "I believe our little y/n's time here is up. No?"

The warm-burning sensation in your palm only confirmed Williams words. Fate was not on your side; though when had it ever been?

"No." You commanded, though Will was right: you couldn't leave your crew to die by your lack of attention, because you were selfish enough to let the wormhole fester for your own peace of mind. "It's not fair."

"When is life ever fair?" William near spat - anger of a life he had once lived consuming him and leaving him just as quick. "When has life ever been fair to any of us? You're not special! You need to do what's right."

"Don't listen to him partner." Abe pleaded, his hands holding onto the fabric of the our coveralls tighter then he had previously; as though you'd slip through his fingers at the mention of going anywhere but with him. "I just got you back, I- I can't lose you again."

It was selfish of you, to want to heed to his words. To stay in his arms now you'd found them. And in all your lifetimes you'd never put yourself first, at least that you could remember. You'd given up your life, your body, your soul for the sake of your friends, for the sake of making things right - why couldn't you be selfish for once?

You had a job to do.

"He's right." You sombrely answered, removing yourself from Abe's hold with little struggle. His arms didn't chase after you, hold you close to him so you couldn't go - be taken away by things out of your control. He didn't fight this, didn't fight for you. "I have no choice in the matter."

"Life is ours to choose." Abe spat, the words bitter on his tongue. How many time a had you heard that phrase? In how many bodies? Tears welled in your eyes once more at the wave of grief that washed over you; grieving the life you'd never get to live with Abe, a life long taken from you. "Choose to stay."

Choose me.

"I would, if I could. I would over and over again." Your voice trembled as you spoke, leaning down to pick up your discarded helmet, not breaking eye contact as you did.

"Don't make them leave." Abe begged, turning towards Wilford - William, the colonel - pleading with the man he had spent the last decade, decades, chasing after. As though he had any control over the matter. "It's the least you could do."

Wilford didn't answer the man, instead he fiddled with the straw inside of his drink, idly sipping the liquid.

"Abe, it's okay." You soothed, taking a step closer to your lover, in some lifetime or other, though not daring to touch him. You'd already let go of him twice, and to do so again might kill you. "I'll find you. Somehow, somewhere."

"You promise?" You couldn't promise, that would be cruel. To have him lead his life in hope, in wait. You loved the detective far too much to subject him to such heartbreak.

"No. But I'll try my hardest." A bitter laugh left your sore and scratched throat, tired of the crying. "It's the best I can give you."

A hot white burn flooded your senses, the crystal that was buried deep into your palm glowing brightly.

"Ive seen so much more than you know, and it's means I know things. Like somewhere out there I've already found you; I can do it again. I will do it again." You reassured, wincing as the pain in your palm became unbearable, fighting against leaving becoming harder and harder. It was futile to resist.

"I hope you know I don't like this, not one bit." Abe seethed through his teeth, his eyes red and raw from both the tears he'd let flow and the ones he was trying to keep within.

Taking a step back from you, Abe stood closer to Wilford, giving you one last look over - relishing in the sight of you alive and breathing for what well could be the last time.

"Be safe, partner."

"I will, partner." A swirl of blue and white began to form behind you, the wind picking up inside the roller rink despite all the windows being closed. This was goodbye. Turning to face it, you had just about accepted your fate: but you knew you needed to be selfish for once. To have some peace of mind to get you through whatever mayhem was to come.

"Wait, Abe, I-" With a flash of bright light you were gone. Gone from Abe's grasp once again, slipped through his fingers like grains of sand.

"I know," Abe whispered, his glazed-over expression fixed on the spot where you had just stood. "I know."

"Well, better get back to our 'regularly scheduled programming.'" Abe sardonically spat, turning to Wilford and slipping the taser out of his pocket. "I have a job to do after all."

Abe would return to the roller rink before he knew, before he was ready to really. Though this time he wouldn't feel the heartbreak, dazed by the flashing lights and groovy music, he'd become entranced by the disco-loving Warfstache's antics and join in.

He'd dance to the upbeat music, moving in  slow circles with Wilford and his mask-covered friends; deluded by the knowledge that you couldn't survive a bullet to the heart.

And he'd constantly find himself looking over his shoulder, a whisper in the wind calling his name, and a strange feeling that one day, he'd turn around and a person would be waiting at the other end of the call.

a/n : There's not enough Abe content so I decided to make my own.

If one single person wants a part 2 I'll make one because I already have ideas lol.

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“Go now, shoo! Shoo! That’s all for tonight folks!” You could hear Wilford’s voice above everyone else’s as he clears out the bar for closing time. It was very late into the night, and even though Wilford didn’t adhere to the normal rules of time, you did, and you were starting to get tired. 

You focus your attention on pouring out any half drunken drinks that were left on the bar, and started wiping the counter. As the club quieted down, Wilford sauntered over to you. “Welp, tonight was quite eventful.” He said, plopping down on one of the bar stools in front of you.

“If by ‘eventful’, you mean you stabbed three people…I guess so.” You sigh, remembering all the blood you had to clean up.

“Three? I could have sworn it was more…Oh well, they deserved it for not playing by the rules. I have a strict, ‘no creeps’ policy.” You can’t help but chuckle. It’s not like they could die here anyway. Death wasn’t as permanent in this establishment as it was in others.

[ Hey you, don’t think about it too hard, ok, trust me. ]

The mood lights in the club were still on, colorful spotlights gliding across the dance floor in a dazzling display of colors. You usually loved the vibe of the lights and the music, and even the dancing people. But it had been a long night of breaking up bar fights, mostly ones Wilford inadvertently started, and dealing with just one too many drunken ‘accidents’.

You could feel a headache coming on, so you went over to the control box, flicking off the energetic music and light show. “Hey-!” You could hear from the other side of the bar, but you just rolled your eyes as you turned on some smoother, less headache inducing music, changing the lighting to move a lot slower and less intensely.

The mood of the club changed to that of a slow dance, and as you turned back to Wilford you could see him pouting.

“I’m sorry Wil, but my head is killing me right now… Come on, some jazz music isn’t gonna kill you.” He was still pouting, but he drops the issue, mumbling to himself that ‘it wasn’t bad, but it also wasn’t as good as disco.’ 

You chuckled to yourself, already feeling the pounding in your head die down almost instantly. You have to wonder if that was really the your doing, or Wilford’s, but you return your attention to polishing some more glasses, humming to the smooth tunes coming through the speakers.

Wilford gets up, and to entertain himself, starts slowly dancing around the dance floor as if he had a partner. Arms out in a sort of waltz, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

After a few minutes, you suddenly hear the door open. “Sorry, we’re actually closed!” You call out, not looking up from the glass you were cleaning.

“Yeah, go away- Wait…do I know you?” You hear Wilford call out. Curiosity gets the better of you as you look up to see who had entered the club at such a late hour. But as your eyes register what, or rather who you're looking at, they widen in shock. You freeze, and apparently drop the glass you were holding because Wilford was suddenly beside you, catching it before it could hit the floor. I guess that weird teleporting thing he could do actually came in handy sometimes.

Wilford points a finger at you, and says, “Well, apparently he knows you.” He looks at the man who had  just entered the room, and finally a look of realization dawns on his face. He turns to point at the newcomer now, “Dave? No…wait...Dave?” 

“God fucking dammit Wilford, not this again. Abe! My name's Abe, you know this.” The man runs a hand over his face as he rolls his eyes at Wilford. “And who the fuck is tha-” He finally takes a proper look at you, and his expression shifts from annoyance, to realization, then to horror. 

You finally snap out of your frozen state as you slowly make your way out from behind the bar, getting closer to him, never breaking eye contact. You had long since given up trying to make sense of everything that was happening at any moment, spending time with Wilford desensitizes you to the madness…but…

The rugged detective, your partner, was standing there, right in front of you. The man who had been shot in front of your very eyes-

You shake your head. 

[ Remember y/n, thinking about it just makes it more confusing. ]

You push those thoughts out of your head, instead you reach out a hand ghosting it to the side of his face. You touch his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin on your hand, the warmth that ment he was alive. And that’s all that mattered.

He finally spoke, “Partner? How-” You shake your head.

“Does it really matter how?” You ask him, smiling. He slowly brings up one of his own hands and places it on your cheek as he chuckles, a deep, almost tired sound.

“I guess not.” You stay there for a moment, the fact that the other was really, actually, there, starting to actually sink in, until an eccentric voice brings you back to reality, and you both step back from one another in embarrassment. 

“Well, I better be off! You make sure you remember to close up. Oh, and get some rest.” He says, looking at you, before turning to Abe. “Nice seeing you again, detective! Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone!” Wilford swung his jacket over his shoulder, and with a wave, disappears through a closet door.

Abe’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “That’s not the exit-” You laugh. Interrupting him.

“It’s Wilford.” Abe sighs, laughing as well.

“Yea, I guess you're right.” You smile at him cockily.

“I always was, still am.” He snorted and smiled back at you, but there was a sad look in his eye. One that was thinking of a time long past, when life was simpler.

You cleared your throat. “Come on, let’s have a drink. It’s on me.”

You move back to your place behind the bar and start to pour two glasses of whiskey. Abe makes his way to a seat across from you.

I couldn’t believe it, he was alive. My handsome partner I’ve been trying so long to avenge was standing right in front of me, pouring me a drink. Working for the very same man who shot him, and myself, not so long ago. Why was it always the attractive ones that end up going batshit crazy.

You laugh as you make your way over to the seat next to him, whiskeys in hand. He looks at you confused. “You're doing the thing again.” You tell him, but his face just grows more confused.

“What thing?” He asks, taking a sip of the drink you hand him.

“Monologueing out loud? Projecting your thoughts? I don’t know what it’s called! The thing!” His eyes widen in realization, and he chokes on his drink. His face flushes slightly, as he coughs, trying to maintain his composure. 

His attempt to cover it up just makes you laugh harder. “You know, you don’t look so bad yourself.” You wink. “Especially for being dead.” He rolls his eyes, but you see the blush start to get to his ears.

“Well, I don’t feel dead, that’s for sure.” He says, taking another sip from his drink. You raise your eyebrows, you could never tell if he ever realized how suggestive the things he always said were. You decide to play into it, even if just to tease him.

You turned in your seat to face him directly, making it so your knees were touching, and put your head in your hand, leaning forward, elbow on your knee to face him. 

“I feel pretty alive right now too~” you look him right in the eyes and wink again. His face becomes as red as a tomato, and you silently cheer, proud of yourself. 

“Thats- thats not what I-” He stutters. You laugh again, downing your drink in one go, and slam it against the table. “God damn it man-” You chuckle, getting up. 

“I have to count the register, but as soon as I finish, would you want to take a walk and catch up?” He shrugs, avoiding your gaze as he tries to calm down his heartbeat and the blush on his face.

“Sure, I don’t know if I have much to say, though. I can’t really remember much.” He frowns.

“If it makes you feel any better, i dont either- Aw dammit.” Abe looks up at you as you scowl, looking at the state of the money in the cash register. This is why you always told Wilford to leave it up to you!

“Wil fucking doesn’t know how to sort cash into the god damn drawers and-” You grumble trying to reorganize it. “I know he doesn’t have to worry about money, but some of us have bills to pay!”

In response to your words, Wilford suddenly leans out from the front door, “Sorry about that, my cherished employee and dear, dear old friend-” Even though you had no idea how he heard you, you decide to ignore that and just glare at him. He shoots you a smile that no one could stay mad at, and closes the door again, disappearing with a, “You know you two love me!~” You and Abe both roll your eyes as you finish counting the cash in the drawer. Then you go to grab the keys for the front door, from the back room.

You were still in your bartender uniform suit, and it was always pretty stuffy in the club. The collar of your shirt starting to feel like it was suffocating you, so as you make your way back over to Abe, you untie your bow tie and unbutton the top few buttons of your dress shirt. You take a deep breath, feeling better already, and look up at Abe to see if he was ready to leave. 

He was shifting awkwardly, not being able to keep eye contact with you for longer than a moment, and you just stared at him, confused. “Are…you ok?” 

“Wh- what? Yea! Of course!” He blinks, “Walk-” He spins on his heel and heads towards the door. 

I guess my Partner and I are cut from the same, ‘does-a-suggestive-thing-without-noticing’, cloth. But I try to play cool, calm, and collected at their actions. I don’t think they’ve noticed anything.

You chuckle to yourself, still a bit confused, but follow him anyway. He holds the door open for you, and the two of you step into the warm summer night. You start walking in a direction and Abe follows.

“So, what parts do you remember.” You ask him. 

He sighs shaking his head, “I remember chasing after Wilford, trying to hunt him down for ages...but…that’s about it. Even the details of that are all fuzzy.” You put an arm on his shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance. He clears his throat, “Well, how about you? What adventures has our D.A. been on?” You laugh, nudging him with your shoulder.

“You’d be surprised. I robbed a museum, went to space-” He stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening and his attention snapping to you.

“You robbed- Space-? What-?!” You laugh at his reaction and stop walking as well. 

“I don’t know what to tell you man! I guess I’ve been busy. But in my downtime I work at Wilford’s club…and that’s about it. That’s…all I really remember, at least.” He stares at you incredulous for a moment, but then shakes his head chuckling.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You were never one to back down from a challenge” he says.

Turning to a life of crime and then going to space. All while working a side job at the same time. I really do only fall for crazy people…

You smile looking at him. And for a moment the two of you just stand there, looking at each other. The slightly sad look comes back to Abe’s eyes.

…I can’t believe he’s still alive… If this is a fucking dream- …I-

You hug him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding on to him tightly. He hesitates for only a moment before wrapping his arms around your waist. His head falls onto your shoulder as you gently rub circles into his back. He practically melts into you, clinging onto you as if you would disappear if he ever let go.

“I’m here… I’m real, and I’m not going anywhere.” You press a soft kiss to his head. “You're not gonna be able to get rid of me that easily. Even death couldn’t keep us apart.” He chuckles into your chest and the two of you stay like that for a little while. The warm air of the night cocooning the both of you in a safe and comforting feeling. A feeling you haven't truly felt since the last time you saw him.

Finally, Abe lets go and takes a step back. You grab his hand, and pull him so the two of you can continue your walk. “Come on…Partner.”