Disclaimer: First, I am not Jewish and know no Jews that I may ask about holidays or customs – this was entirely from my poor research and so all mistakes are mine. I apologise. However, corrections are welcome. Also, I have only used the general research into the time and the situation – none of these characters are real, and this is not set in any specific ghetto. I will not narrow it down – this, I fear, I will not try to make geographically/historically accurate. It is more of a tribute/memorial to all of them.
December c. 1940
Ba-ruch A-tah Ado-nai E-lo-he-nu Me-lech ha-olam a-sher ki-de-sha-nu be-mitz-vo-tav ve-tzi-va-nu le-had-lik ner Cha-nu-kah.
"Papa! Papa! Jakob will not let me my turn! Papa! Papa!"
"Maria, please wait a moment – I am busy."
"Jakob! Share with your sister!
"Yes, mother – here, take it. It's your turn now anyway."
"Hold Hadassah."
"No – Maria! Stop it! Don't touch that!"
"Jakob – stop making your sister cry..."
"I didn't do anything, Mother! She was trying to reach the menorah!"
Ba-ruch A-tah Ado-nai E-lo-he-nu Me-lech Ha-olam she-a-sa ni-sim la-avo-te-nu ba-ya-mim ha-hem bi-zman ha-zeh.
"I assure you that the apocalypse is not upon us child – you are neither hurt nor is your creature. Please cease sobbing."
"I am...sorry."
"Child – Maria! Where has that infernal cat gone now – and it is nothing to laugh at, missy."
"Haddassah doesn't like it out here – it's too cold. Why is your room warm, sir?"
"I heat it. And I do not care if the creature is cold – find it. At once. And remove it."
"Yes, sir."
"You are not looking."
"Where is your menorah? It is too dark in here! You do not have a menorah?"
"You may cease looking for the candelabrum and resume looking for the cat that has vanished – no. I do not have a menorah as I was unable to bring it with me."
"How are you celebrating Chanukah? You need a menorah."
"I have found the creature. Do you feed him – he was in my pantry."
"Don't hold him like that – you'll hurt him. What's a pantry?"
"He is a cat – you named him 'Haddassah'? - and all kittens are carried by their necks. My pantry is a small box that holds my dry food."
"She was a great queen! And pretty, mother says."
"Exactly – here is your animal. Now go back to your room and play with Jakob – and let your parents cook."
"But...you don't have a menorah!"
Ba-ruch A-tah Ado-nai E-lo-he-nu Me-lech Ha-olam she-heche-ya-nu ve-ki-yi-ma-nu ve-higi-a-nu liz-man ha-zeh.
"But he hasn't got a menorah or a dreidl or geltz or anything, Mother!"
"Maria, I asked you to stop bothering that man – he prefers to be left alone. Jakob – why were you not watching your sister?"
"It's not my -"
"Jakob. Listen to your mother. Maria, please stay out of the kitchen. Take Haddassah with you."
"Yes, father..."
"...we do have enough – he hardly ever goes out. I can't imagine he has anything to celebrate with."
"You only just said that he preferred to be alone – he would hardly thank us for surrounding him with rowdy children. Have Abigail or Gabriel returned yet?"
"Go. Ask him. It is enough that he has lost everything – he should not have to lose his heritage too."
"And if he does not practice?"
"He still should not be alone – take Maria. Jakob can help me here."
"Maria. Come – leave Haddassah."
"Where are we going, Papa?"
"We are going to invite Mr. Eilam to eat with us."
"Will we share our menorah?"
"Yes – perhaps he will want to light it."
"Yes. Everyone wants to light it. Hello – I didn't bring Haddassah this time. Papa wants to ask you something. I want you to say yes."
"Cease prattling, child."
"My apologies – my wife and I wished to invite you to dinner with us; and yes, our daughter does wish you to come."
"I-"
"Please, please, please? I'll keep Haddassah out of your room forever and ever!"
"For such a low cost I am rid of the creature? Very well, Daniyel – I am at your disposal for the evening. Come child, let me carry you before you strangle your father, hm?"
December 1967
He walked slowly through the forest, following the river. There was a biting night wind blowing over him, but he scarcely noticed it other than to be grateful to it for grounding him in reality. His hands were clenched at his sides, but they still hung loosely as he strolled. Beside him, the river gurgled softly, background noise beneath the rustle of leaves.
He treasured the nights he had without nightmares, and even more so the precious sleep without any dreams at all. Enough was locked away within his head to feed the endless nightmares of even Sleeping Beauty, but he almost preferred the nightmares to the gentle memories. The nightmares would inevitably repeat themselves again, renewing all the pain and fear they had carried the first time – but the dreams? The child's laugh and innocent ability to ignore every hint he dropped that proclaimed he wanted to be alone, and a family's simple joy at being together – that was something precious. The sentiment may reappear – but the players? There is no encore.
Maria was a pretty child – but then, most children were – with her dark hair and eyes and her ever bubbling personality that demanded attention. She didn't know what she was missing in the ghetto, too young to remember a larger house and more food – she only knew that her brothers and sister and parents were there and that was all that mattered. And that there was a poor man in the room next door that didn't have a menorah and it was Chanukah and everybody has to have a menorah and please come with us you can light it and the creature won't bother you and please come in...
He smiled, relaxing slightly in the night. The kitten had invariably found its way back into his rooms when she wanted someone to play with though – and he never understood why her parents allowed her to name to creature a girl's name... She certainly saw nothing wrong with it – Haddassah was her darling pet. Heaven forfend any should try to take it from her.
He almost didn't know why he had accepted the invitation, except he knew that he would give a child anything. She had seen him as her...friend, or playmate after – always ready to run to him after school and show him what she learnt. Her sister and mother tried to apologise, to keep her away – but he never told her to let him be and she was never able to understand the vague hints he would drop. He was never willing to truly chase her away.
He finally folded his hands into his pockets, turning to stare down at the water. He could easily have escaped the ghetto – the walls were never centred around lakes or rivers. One slash of a knife, or the complete sacrifice of his food and drink – he would have gone. He could have walked out of Europe, hidden away in the depth of Africa or perhaps Russia until the war was fought out – until the winner walked away. He had no illusions that it would be Hitler or...his Axis Allies. Perhaps he would defeat the Allied Powers, perhaps he would reign over the world – but would he win? The world was too dedicated to its freedom, to its life, to allow him his rule – he might have won the war, but he would have only won destruction.
He had known that none would survive – there had already been executions and mass murders in Europe, and it was only a matter of time before the Angel of Death stopped by their house rather than passing over, and it would not be content with just the firstborn. And yet, he stayed. He let Maria laugh her way into his heart, and came to render assistance to the rest of the household – although he would not admit accepting it.
He knelt, lightly touching his hand to the surface of the water. She loved the rain, the water – could never understand why Haddassah and he would much rather remain dry indoors. He smiled slightly, remembering the cold he had come down with after going out to fetch her when she had fallen asleep in the streets after playing in the rain. Of course, she had been perfectly well and then demanded to know why he could not leave his bed the next day.
All of the times he should have simply died, leaving them behind. All the pain he could have spared himself then – all the nightmares... Perhaps Mengele would never have found him, perhaps he could have fled Europe with all its prejudice against any looking of the Jewish heritage. Perhaps he would not have died again with Maria or Jakob – perhaps he would not feel so much...
He stood, turning back to the house. This Abigail was blessed with the looks – if not the discretion – to have survived the Holocaust. She was a bright blonde – in more ways than one – and she would have been smuggled into other families until she was safe and could escape. She would have lived if she could have kept to herself and kept quiet. The other Abigail didn't – too darkly beautiful to hide. To obvious and too loyal to her family. She did not survive – he couldn't even remember if she had reached the train, or if she had fallen before the cars...
It did not matter now, not anymore. Maria had fallen like so many others before her had, and Abigail was lost like so many more in his future would be. This Abigail knew of another Immortal, but he knew she would never lead him to the other – too loyal and too kind to consider it, and he would not press her.
Goodness knows that he was well acquainted with nightmares. He had seen those he had both willingly and unwillingly come to care about fall around him – he would watch another fall here, and he would not wish that memory upon another.
Translations: Blessed are You, Lord our G-d, King of the universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments, and commanded us to kindle the Chanukah light.
Blessed are You, Lord our G-d, King of the universe, who performed miracles for our forefathers in those days, at this time.
Blessed are You, Lord our G-d, King of the universe, who has granted us life, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this occasion.
AN: The first section is Adam's dream/memory – my apologies if it is confusing. This is sort of a carry on from Remember, Remember (thus Maria and the kitten...) because answering a million (sort of exaggeration – someone else needs to research the World Wars...) questions about Veterans/Armistice day and the World Wars and treaties and death tolls and whatnot got me thinking about it way too much. And Henry doesn't like me writing him anymore at the moment, so I absconded with Adam again. I really need to go rewatch the series to fix my ideas back to canon... But I have no idea what happened to this one – I think that I think too much by far. My apologies. Also, I said the date for the memory was about 1940, but that's just for reference. As I said, I'm not narrowing it down – I just know that he was placed in the Camp in 1943 with those in his building, so it's before that. 11-12-2015
