FIC: To What End? [PG, 1/1]

Title: To What End?
Author: [info]dmitchell1985
Beta: crazyfoolstiney
Fandom: Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter
Pairing: Abraham Lincoln/Henry Sturges
Rating: PG – for allusions to sex.
Summary: Some decisions about one’s life are not theirs to make as Abraham eventually finds out.
Word Count: 1,863
Disclaimer: I don’t own any part of Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter.
Author’s Notes: This was written for Gufetta’s prompt to thank her for her wonderful fan art that she drew for my OT4 fics. As I said before, I’ve never had anyone draw fan art for me before. Thank youuuuu! Heads up, I misremembered the latter part of the prompt and just knew that you wanted ‘old Abe’ fic. So, only in passing, do I mention book verse events. The fight that you dislike isn’t a major part of the fic. Also thanks to Stiney for irl betaing this for me on my first vacation. :D

The thing no proud vampire would tell you about fangs is that they give you a lisp. At least, they do when you first discover your misfortune of having been turned, whether you wanted it or not.

It had been two days since he had awoken in the cellar of Henry’s current home more than a tad surprised to have done so. The last things he remembered had been Mary’s smooth hand in his, the shock of pain, darkness, and a fuzzy memory of glowing warmth calling out his name. Although Abraham could not say for sure where he had been, he knew that it had felt comforting and just like home.

Now, he was here in what had to be one of the coziest sitting rooms that he had no desire to enjoy. He had been so close to what he wanted all of these years and Henry had cruelly snatched it away. Even as they fought and argued, even when he received that one last letter from Henry, even when he had turned Henry away that final time, Abraham did not allow himself to believe that Henry would follow through on his threat. Henry had told him once, in the late hours of the night as they lay beside one another searching for their next breaths through the delighted haze following an exuberant round of lovemaking, that he could not bear to exist without Abraham.

He had lovingly curled his fingers around Abraham’s all those long years ago and drew the back of Abraham’s hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. Henry set his gaze upon Abe with such a ferocity that he had felt exposed and uncomfortable, despite what he had just let Henry do to him. Despite what he had done to Henry in return. It was all still too new, too much for him to handle from someone he had loathed only a short time before.

“Abraham,” Henry whispered softly in the dimmed light of his bedroom, “a time will come when I will have to let you go. Long after you are done with your training here, you will give your heart to others. You will fall in love, get married, and have beautiful children.”

He paused then and Abe could see his Adam’s apple dip slightly as he swallowed what Abe could only guess was his hesitation to continue speaking.

“Even though I will release you from any obligation to me and gladly encourage you to live your life away from me, there will also come a time when I will not let you go. When you have served the purpose that we both know that you must, I will call upon you one last time to go further beyond yourself than you could ever imagine.”

Abraham had held his breath then, so anxious to and yet terrified to hear what Henry would say next. He had had an inkling of what was to come, but he could not believe that his mentor would ever utter those words to him.

Henry lightly pursed his lips and continued, “One day, Abraham, I shall make you like me. When you have enjoyed the fruits of old age, I shall call upon you to return to my side and finish what we began.”

Abraham’s ability to breathe deserted him. Henry had said the one thing that he did not ever want to hear, the one thing that he never wanted for himself. Even though Abe had found it in himself to accept the vampire’s friendship and his invitation for more, Abe had sworn to himself that it was only a passing phase. He would glean what he could from this most unlikely of alliances and then move on. He would think no more on how it felt to be held in the cool embrace of Henry’s arms or how Henry’s mouth would claim his with no want for heady enthusiasm that neatly crashed through Abe’s resolve not to allow Henry another opportunity to disrobe him. He would force himself to forget about much of the summer they spent together and that would be that.

But if what Henry said was true, if he honestly intended to turn Abraham whether he willed it or not, Abe could not see any use in pretending at their friendship any longer. Because that is certainly what it must be, a parody of friendship and mutual respect if Henry could find it in himself to do such a thing to Abraham knowing what he did about Abe’s mother and how he felt about Henry’s kind. There were no clear words to convey the horror that he felt eating his tender heart and mind.

Abraham sat up in the bed and drew away from Henry. He felt the resistant tug of Henry’s fingers on his own, but disregarded the silent plea to slip from beneath the bedcovers. He could feel the edges of a scowl overtaking his face and his contempt for the creature before him seizing control of his mouth.

“Is that so? You would do that to me, even though you know I have no desire to be like you? I could never in all my life want to exist the way that you do!” Abe’s voice rose higher the longer he spoke. He could hear himself losing control and the disgust that crept into his voice between the cracks of anger and indignation, but he was powerless to do anything to halt their progress.

This went beyond ‘unacceptable’ and right into betrayal. Henry had manipulated him, gained his trust, took from him that which he could never offer to anyone else, and this is how he planned to repay him? To force a cursed existence on him and bind him to some future cause that Abraham could not yet fully see for himself? How could Henry think that he would agree to live as his puppet until he was ready to claim him?

Abraham’s body shook with his rage. He could feel it destroying every bit of reason he had left to his name. In an instant, Abe snatched his clothes up from the floor and glared at Henry as he shoved his arms and legs into place. He could not stop his ire from burning that much hotter when he noted the utterly placid look on Henry’s face. It was as though he couldn’t understand why Abe would be angry or why it was downright villainous to even suggest what he intended to do.

Abe waited a moment longer for Henry to say something, anything, any word or phrase to defend or explain himself. Silence over took the room, for Henry did not so much as twitch an eyebrow in concern as Abe stared him down. The realization that there would be no response from Henry, apologetic or otherwise, descended upon Abe like a greedy ocean wave intent on pulling him under.

Finding no other words to say, Abe retreated to Henry’s spare bedroom to sleep little and fume tremendously for the rest of the night.


He had debated leaving. He truly had. But, that was the one true opportunity Abe had to make himself familiar with his intended targets. The person sharing the knowledge might not be ideal, but he was still a valuable resource that had been hard to come by the first time around. He hadn’t had a single hope for once again finding such a treasure trove of lessons and tips to help him on his way.

Realistically, Abe understood through the blinding threads of fury that attempted to obscure his view of the larger picture, that he might have never found another source of information. However, it did not curb his growing outrage nor the overwhelming sense of revulsion. It did not change the fact that he was now an old man with hollow fangs that needed filling with the blood of someone else. It did not change the dead eyes that took in every detail as though it were a soul-crushing obsession. And, it certainly could not change the fact that he would never see his sweet Mary or his beloved mother in whatever place he had to look forward to after his life was done. He was well and truly stuck, and there was nothing for it.

He pondered his reflection in the mirror over the mantel and wondered how long he could go on like this. He wondered how long it would take before Henry left him be and he could gladly walk out into the sun to slowly burn the flesh from his bones. Or, even to set himself ablaze. He was concocting every torturous means he could imagine to rid himself of this new existence when he saw him. Henry was standing on the final stair reflected in the mirror.

Even in the minimal lighting, Abraham could see Henry perfectly. He could see every eyelash, every woven thread of his clothing, and most importantly, he could clearly see the hint of love and affection gleaming in his eyes. Quicker than Abraham thought possible, the traces of affection vanished under a look of superficial boredom. Abraham knew that he might not be the smartest man the world had to offer, but he knew what he saw in the moment their eyes met.

With deliberate care, Abraham slowly turned to face his once-more captor. He examined every inch of him and searched Henry’s mind with his own. Through the noise of plans and regrets, rang the gentle hope that Abraham would come to accept their new existence together. The hope for more was such a fragile thing that flew on paper thin wings inside of Henry. Abraham almost felt as though it were his own desperate longing struggling to survive when everything around it was intent on squashing it into little more than an ugly smear.

He sighed around the regret he felt at staying the remainder of the summer by Henry’s side. Though he had never again invited Abraham to his bed, Abraham suspected that his staying there, and later filling Henry’s errands, had somehow given Henry false hope. It had allowed him to believe that Abraham would appreciate what Henry considered to be a gift beyond measure.

He stood completely still as they sized one another up and inwardly marveled at himself. He found the persistent doubt that always lingered in the far reaches of Abraham’s mind surging forward to suggest that he might have silently given Henry permission to take his mortally-bound death away. He didn’t think that he had, of course, but here they were nonetheless.

Taking a steadying breath, Abraham looked Henry directly in the eyes and asked, “What next?”

The barest quirk of Henry’s lips said all that Abraham needed to know. He allowed himself several more seconds to consider what Henry was offering and speculated as to whether he would ever be able to move past such cunning treachery to seize his own hope for more. As he stared at his former lover and mentor, Abraham’s still heart and racing mind found that they could not be sure either way.

At least, not quite yet.


April 2015

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