July 2nd, 2006. Odessa, Texas.
It should have been a pleasant July night. The air is humid and thick and it suffocates their skin, feeling much like a blanket tucked too tight around their shoulders. Lightning bugs dot the darkness, like miniature stars. Firecrackers pop in the backyard nextdoor and children scream in delight.
The weight of the situation between them seems to press in and mute everything around them. Or maybe, that is just how tonight is, the heat heavy and lethargic.
"Don't go." Henry says in a small voice. Cicadas drone somewhere behind him, the noise makes his ears buzz.
It's the quietest, most broken thing Abe has ever heard from him. It's a tiny thing, a desparate croak and it's sad. So sad.
"Please. Don't leave."
"Henry…" Abe hesitates.
Henry has known Abe for over 100 years. Ever since he encountered the young Mr. Lincoln being drowned by the frail, elderly vampire. When they'd met, Henry had had a good 300 years under his belt and yet a mere 100 with companionship is enough to soften him, make him fear loneliness. Henry does not know what he will do without his friend by his side.
They stand on the front walk, just outside their home. They'd decided the small dwelling was perfect. The yard, big enough to be comfortable, the porch wide and accomodating and the windows small enough to be covered during the day. And at night, they would be illuminated yellow by the light within.
The house was wonderful, it was home. But the house was Abe. And Henry knew that when Abe left this place, so would he. They would not leave together.
"I just…we can't work this out, can we?"
"I'm afraid not."
Henry nods, closing his eyes for longer than is necessary. "Pro-." His throat closes and he has to swallow to keep from choking, "Promise me that wherever you go, you'll be safe."
"I promise."
"And if you ever need me, I will always be available."
"I know."
Abe turns and walks away, down the street and disappears from sight around the corner at the end of the block. Henry does not watch him go, however. Instead, he goes inside to pack.
The streetlight in front of their home flickers and burns out, leaving the yard dark but for the dim light emanating from the windows.