Title: Hide and Seek
Summary: The memories of those summer days spent hiding in the woods, just the two of them, stayed with him long after the games stopped.
Spoilers: The whole series. If you haven't seen the show in its entirety, read at your own risk.
Rating/Warning: T for some language and creepiness.
Disclaimer: Harper's Island belongs to CBS. They left the toy box open, but I'll put the characters back when I'm finished! Dialogue and action in the last section are taken from episode 13, but the inner monologue is creative license on my part.
Author's Note: Yeah, I know, plotbunny number four, but you guys, this one was so much freakin' fun to write. I actually came up with the end first and then had to figure out how to get there, and I had an almost frightening amount of fun doing so. The idea for this came from that little smile on Henry's face after Abby runs out of the room the first time in "Sigh", like the whole thing is nothing more than a game to him. I wanted to do something that turned a childhood game on its head, and hide and seek provided me with the most opportunity. Enjoy!

By the time Abby Mills was three years old, it was quite obvious that she and Henry Dunn were two halves of the same whole. When Karen Dunn came to collect her son at the end of each day, Abby would cry for an hour. Karen confessed to Sarah Mills that Henry would frequently cross his little arms over his chest during the car ride back to the cottage the Dunns rented for the summer and refuse to speak to anyone.

"You think that's normal?" Karen would ask occasionally, casting a wary eye on her five-year-old.

"Maybe not normal, exactly, but natural," Sarah would answer, although the children's fierce friendship worried her as much as it did Karen.

Perhaps they would grow out of it as they got older, but even if they didn't, what could it hurt? Kids needed friends, after all. Or so the mothers told themselves.

As time went on, the friendship deepened. When it rained, Henry was practically a fixture in the Mills household, and on the sunny days, they played in Abby's back yard from dawn until dusk.

The summer after kindergarten, Abby's parents decided she was old enough to play outside with the other kids on the island. She brought Henry with her and introduced him to the friends she'd made in school by saying, "This is Henry and he's playing with us." Though she was far from the leader of her little group of friends, they all welcomed Henry because she'd made it clear that she and Henry were a package deal.

Hide and seek was the most common childhood game on a small, wooded island simply because there were so many great places to hide. The sound of little voices shouting, "One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand …" and "Ready or not, here I come!" permeated the summer air. Abby could find Henry in about three seconds flat and Henry always knew where Abby liked to hide. After a while, the other kids banned them both from being It because it made for a very boring game for everybody else. So Abby and Henry started hiding together and the person who was It only found them when they became so wrapped up in conversation they forgot they were even playing a game.

After a couple of years, Jimmy Mance discovered that he really liked to scare Henry and Abby. They would always hide somewhere far away, somewhere no one would ever think to look for them. Sometimes Jimmy thought that Abby and Henry didn't really want to play hide and seek with the rest of them anymore but didn't know how to tell them that, so they used the hiding time to disappear together instead. For some reason, that annoyed the crap out of him.

So while Nikki and Kelly and Trish and everyone else hid in earnest, Jimmy followed Abby and Henry. He listened to their conversations, which he never understood because it always seemed like they were speaking in code. He recognized the words, but none of them made sense. Figures the two of them would have some kind of secret language, he would think with a roll of his eyes while waiting for the perfect opportunity to jump out at them.

He always waited until it was quiet, when he could hear nothing in the woods but the low murmur of their voices. Sometimes he'd just sneak up on them to give them a startle, and sometimes he went for the all-out scare. The frightened look on Abby's face never failed to make him wince, but the combination of terror and anger on Henry's satisfied him enough to make it worth it. It was always Abby who furiously chased him, though, yelling that she would get him good.

One day when Abby was eight, she managed to catch up with Jimmy and knock him down, marking the last time the kids played an organized game of hide and seek on the island. It also marked the first time Henry saw something in Abby's eyes when she looked at Jimmy, something he didn't like in the slightest.

-----

The memories of those summer days spent hiding in the woods, just the two of them, stayed with Henry long after the games stopped. Now they spent their nights on the wicker loveseat on Abby's porch, sipping lemonade while staring up at the stars. They tried to spot various constellations, but neither of them was any good at astronomy and the only thing they were able to recognize was the Big Dipper. Or perhaps the Little Dipper. One of the Dippers, at any rate.

One night, Abby found Orion. Actually she found Orion's belt and from there, Henry picked out the rest of the constellation. He'd had to squeeze in close to her in order to point out the other four stars in a reasonable approximation of her perspective. While she squinted up at the sky and said, "Oh, yeah …," Henry locked his gaze on her and could tell she didn't see the other stars at all.

"Remember those games of hide and seek we used to play?" he asked without taking his eyes off her.

"All I remember is sneaking off with you when we were supposed to be playing hide and seek," she said with a light laugh, her attention still focused on the sky.

"We were hiding," Henry argued playfully. "We just hid really well."

And there it was again, that tiny giggle of hers that made him grin like a four-year-old on Christmas morning. God, he loved being around her. He could be himself when he was with her, and she accepted him for who he was, not for who he could be someday. He was fifteen now and she was thirteen, and they were still inseparable. Well, as inseparable as they could be now that he had to spend his days working down at the docks.

Her excited voice brought him out of his reverie. "Hey, did you see that?"

"See what?" He hadn't taken his gaze off her since she found Orion, so no, he hadn't seen a damn thing in the sky.

"I just saw a shooting star!"

The twinkle in her eye made him smile. "We should watch the meteor shower when the time comes. The Perseids peak in August. Tons of shooting stars." He finally forced himself to look up at the stars but whatever Abby had seen was long gone.

She dropped her head to his shoulder and sighed dreamily. "Ooh, I like that idea. Don't we have to be outside in the middle of the night, though? Think our parents will let us?"

"Why wouldn't they?" he asked while resisting the urge to run his fingers through her hair.

She shrugged and they fell into a comfortable silence. Soon they heard footsteps on the gravel driveway and Henry felt his hands clench into fists when Jimmy Mance stepped into the soft light coming from the porch. What the hell was he doing here? He had all the time in the world with Abby! Henry didn't get as much time with her now that he worked during the day, so when he did get to see her, he wanted her all to himself.

But Henry knew that to keep the peace he had to be welcoming, so he simply gave Jimmy a smile and tried not to let the jealousy show when Abby leaped off the loveseat to give him a quick hug. Henry discovered with a jolt of sadness that he was still hiding, but Abby was no longer hiding with him.

-----

He started going out with Trish Wellington that same summer. He knew that Trish liked him (because, as Shane Pierce noted on more than one occasion, she'd been throwing herself at him) and one day while he was working on her dad's boat, she asked if he wanted to go for dinner when his shift was over. There weren't a lot of nice places to eat on the island, but her family had a standing reservation at the Candlewick Inn's dining room; all she'd have to do was place a call and they'd have a table. Abby wasn't going to be home since she and Nikki were getting together for a girls' night, so Henry decided he would go but he insisted that he pay.

That was their first official date, though neither one of them called it that, even when they ended the evening with a hot and heavy kiss. Trish wasn't Abby (but then, no one was) but Henry began to realize that was okay. Abby was a little younger than him, after all, and Trish liked to do different things. More grown-up things, like going to parties and having make-out sessions. With Abby, Henry could play games and stare up at the stars and hold onto his childhood, but with Trish, he could lose himself in growing up.

The only time things got confusing was when they were all together. Henry knew he should pay attention to Trish, especially since Abby was spending more and more of her time making eyes at Jimmy (of all people!) but he could never keep his gaze off Abby for too long. He tried to tell himself he was just looking out for her. Though she and Jimmy were the same age, he was a little more--okay, a lot more--rough around the edges and she was squeaky-clean Abby, and Henry liked her that way.

He wasn't afraid of Jimmy corrupting her, per se. He just didn't want Jimmy turning her into one of those girls who primped and preened in front of the mirror and changed outfits nineteen times and blushed when a cute guy smiled in her direction. Henry liked Abby with her torn jean shorts and smudges of dirt on her palms and knees because she landed wrong when she jumped down from the tree she'd climbed.

Even still, he knew there was some kind of underlying interest in her that went beyond "She's my friend and I'm worried about her," but it also didn't matter. He couldn't do anything about it. Trish was his girlfriend now and Abby was just a little too young for him, not to mention the matter of Abby's interest in Jimmy Mance.

"Earth to Henry!" he heard Trish holler. He blinked and realized for the first time that she'd been waving one of her hands in front of his face. She giggled when his eyes met hers and then she snuggled up against him before turning her attention back to the small campfire they'd made on the beach. "Where did you go?"

"That would be telling," he replied, the teasing lilt coming easily into his voice. He picked up a stick and speared a thick marshmallow with it. No way he was about to tell Trish that he'd been watching Jimmy make Abby a s'more and then wipe the melted chocolate off her cheek with his thumb when she bit into it. But hell, if Jimmy could make Abby a s'more, he could sure make Trish one.

He idly wondered when he started this little one-sided competition with Jimmy and decided it went back to when he'd had to start fighting him for Abby's attention. Henry could even pinpoint the day: when Abby tackled Jimmy to the ground, sat on him, and refused to let him up until he apologized for scaring the crap out of them all those times.

The sound of Abby's giggling traveled across the campfire and Henry stole a look at her. Jimmy had told her some kind of joke and she had raised a hand to cover her mouth and muffle the laughter. Henry narrowed his eyes at Jimmy as he clenched his fist so tightly that the stick snapped in his hand. He was the only one who was supposed to be able to make Abby laugh like that.

Just as suddenly as the jealousy attack came on, it was gone, and he dropped the broken part of the stick in the sand before Trish even knew what happened. Once the marshmallow was properly heated, he slid it off the stick in a sandwich of graham cracker and pieces of Hershey bar and handed it to Trish. When Trish proclaimed the snack the best s'more she'd ever eaten and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek, Henry smiled. Not because he'd made Trish happy but because he'd spent the night paying attention to Abby and Trish never once figured it out.

Damn, he was good.

-----

Over the years, he got even better. By the time he and Trish graduated from high school, it was pretty much a given that they would get married someday. Henry was completely on board with the idea because he found, to his complete surprise, that he did love her.

He had two lives, one with Trish and one with Abby. He always felt some kind of pretense when he was with Trish, though she never seemed to pick up on it. It wasn't even something Henry himself could put his finger on; he just knew that he felt more at home and more … himself when he was with Abby.

But he and Trish were perfect for each other, so everyone said, and Henry eventually started buying into the hype. He loved spending time with her and liked challenging her father in his own quiet way. No one was more shocked than Henry when he discovered he'd stopped thinking of Abby every time he kissed Trish.

Besides, Abby and Jimmy had started going out at some point during the school year. They'd been dancing around it for years so it wasn't a huge surprise, but the knowledge still stirred up that familiar jealousy in Henry. He kept suggesting double dates--him and Trish and Abby and Jimmy, all together--just so he could keep an eye on her. It was actually Jimmy he didn't quite trust, but no one needed to know that.

To his immense relief, Abby never turned into a complete girly-girl and still retained that little bit of child-like innocence. Every time he looked at her, he remembered those hot summer days and long summer nights when they were kids and the centers of each other's world.

But then, in one twenty-four-hour period, everything changed. John Wakefield turned all their lives upside down.

Sarah Mills and five other people were dead. Abby was practically catatonic with grief, and Henry had no idea what the hell to do to help her. At first she didn't even want to see him, which shattered his heart, but he took small comfort in the fact that she didn't want to see Jimmy, either. Henry could never stay away from her for too long, though, and after a couple of days, he stopped over with some food since that seemed to be the thing to do when someone died.

Abby let him into the house, stowed the food in the refrigerator, and almost immediately broke down in tears. He wrapped her in a tight embrace and just held her until her wracking sobs dwindled to choked hiccups.

He led her out onto the porch and sat her down on the wicker loveseat they used to lounge on when they looked up at the stars. They were both slightly uncomfortable this time, and Henry found himself longing for the days when she lazily leaned against him, rested her head on his shoulder, and talked for hours about nothing at all. Neither one of them spoke, but they knew each other so well that they didn't need to talk. Abby didn't need conversation, anyway; she just needed company.

Eventually, Henry slipped his arm around her shoulders, a silent invitation for her to snuggle against him like she used to when they were little. To his absolute delight she complied, turning slightly to make herself more comfortable. After a little while the restless nights and emotional exhaustion caught up with her and she fell into a light sleep.

While Henry ran his hand up and down her arm to soothe her, his mind wandered to John Wakefield. He wanted, with every fiber of his being, to hate the man who had done this to Abby, but for some reason, he couldn't. He just kept thinking about that look they'd shared and that little spark of … something. Recognition, maybe? He supposed it didn't matter. Something about that split-second had caused Wakefield to spare him, and Henry knew deep down that even though the Sheriff insisted the nightmare over, it wasn't.

It was nowhere near over.

-----

"You have to learn to hide it, son."

John Wakefield had uttered those words countless times, but he didn't know that Henry had spent his life perfecting various ways of hiding. He and Abby used to hide so well that no one could find them. He hid his feelings for Abby from Trish and even Abby herself. He'd pretended for years that he felt normal and that there was nothing wrong with him or those … impulses he had. Henry Dunn had certainly grown quite adept at hiding.

And now he was hiding his real plan from the man who had taught him everything he knew. His father kept impressing upon him the importance of killing Abby along with everyone else, but no matter how he explained it, (a cleansing ritual, he would never be free so long as she was alive, blah blah blah), Henry thought it was just plain idiotic. How the hell would killing Abby set him free? Killing Sarah Mills had certainly not set John Wakefield free, and now he was just a vicious killer who had to live his life without the woman he loved. Life wouldn't be worth living to Henry if he couldn't have Abby.

So Henry had started forming a new plan behind his father's back. He nodded and agreed and said, "Yes, Dad, I'll kill Abby. Let's leave her for last, though. I want her to suffer," even though he didn't mean a single word of it. And when his father grinned and slapped a proud hand on his back, he wanted to smack the satisfaction off his face.

It was in that moment Henry realized this was going to come down to a choice between Abby and his father, and really, that wasn't even a contest. John Wakefield would never see Abby as anything but Sarah's daughter, a Mills, a loose end that needed to be tied up, but Abby was Henry's whole world. She was the reason he got up in the morning and the last thing he thought of when he went to sleep at night. She was his whole reason for planning this! And he knew she wanted it as much as he did and that she had wanted it her entire life, just as he had wanted it for as long as he could remember.

"I was thinking we should do it on the island," Henry said to his father, knowing the idea would thrill him. Everything coming full circle, the irony of so much terror happening under the guise of a week of celebration … John Wakefield had that perverse sense of humor. The thought of having to put Trish through the wringer before killing her did give Henry pause, but every great plan required sacrifices. It wasn't fair, but it was the way it had to be. "I'll propose to Trish and invite Abby to the wedding. She'll come back to the island for me."

Wakefield gave him a proud nod. "A wedding will bring everyone together nicely. Make the pickings easier. Brilliant."

Oh, it was a brilliant plan, all right. Too bad his father wouldn't live long enough to see the outcome.

-----

Abby was his now, and here in this house, they would be happy. He expected it to be hard at first; she'd lost so much and would be grieving, but he would be there to comfort her, just like when her mother was killed. And after a while, she would see that he loved her and that they belonged together, that those days of hiding out in the woods when they were supposed to be playing with the other kids were just practice for the real thing.

Because they didn't need anyone else. They just needed each other, and she'd come to see that eventually.

He heard tentative footsteps from upstairs, and he held his breath, unsure if he should believe it. He'd heard what he thought were footsteps a couple of times before but when he went upstairs to check on her, she was still out cold. He longed to wake her because he was so eager to start their life together, but she needed the sleep. She hadn't had any in days. Besides, he figured, what was another day or two? They had forever.

This time, though, the footsteps were real and when she gingerly crept into the kitchen, Henry's breath caught in his throat. She was here, with him, finally! And even though her hair was tangled and she appeared to be both confused and terrified, she was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. "Hey there," he said to her once he worked up the courage.

She whirled around to face him and he couldn't hide the wide smile on his face. But that was okay, because he didn't have to hide anymore.

His heart throbbed in his chest and his palms were sweating, and he could hardly believe his reaction. "I didn't think I'd be this nervous!" he blurted out before he could stop himself. Idiot! he thought.

Hey, she was probably hungry, right? When was the last time she'd eaten anything? "You want something to eat?"

"No."

The word was terse, her tone clipped, and Henry just looked at her, confused. Why was she being so short with him? "It's okay," he said in an effort to calm her. "I'll explain everything."

And he tried to explain, but she kept looking at him like she didn't even know him, and she was doing everything in her power to keep a healthy distance between them. Before he knew it she was trying to escape, jiggling the handles on the doors, but Henry had already taken care of that. He hadn't wanted to believe that she'd want to get away from him, but he was realistic enough to consider the small glimmer of a chance she'd try to run. "Abby, there's nowhere to go," he said, trying to keep his voice light but he couldn't help but sound confused and even a little hurt.

She barreled past him, barely looking at him as she tried the other door before tearing into the kitchen drawers. Again, he was one step ahead of her. He'd been hoping it wouldn't come down to that, but he'd hidden all the knives and utensils, too. And now, seeing the terror and helplessness in her eyes, he realized this was going to be a lot harder than he anticipated. "I-I'm not going to hurt you," he tried to reassure her.

She stared at him for a beat before closing her hand around a glass he'd left in the sink and pitching it at him. He dodged it (her aim was off a little), but when she ran from the room, he smiled and decided it would be okay to give her a small head start. Because even though she was running from him as if her life depended on it, all he could hear in the back of his mind was her little seven-year-old voice chanting, "One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand …"