Abraham Lincoln was 12 years old. Three years after his mother's death he was still finding it hard to be around his father and, for his part, Thomas found it hard to be around the boy who reminded him so much of his radiant wife, lost forever to the evil bloodsucker, Jack Barts. Abraham was so like his mother in many ways. He was intelligent, caring and loved with the infinite love that only youth and purity grant. He had eyes like hers, and who would fail to be reminded of Nancy by the beautiful boy's beautiful curls, the same exact shade as his mother's. The way he read to the family from the bible every night, the same way that Nancy had.
Abe also bore an unsettling resemblance to his namesake, Thomas's own father. The lad was growing up tall and strong, with broad shoulders. Another reminder of another loved one Thomas had lost to the curse of vampires.
However, Abe was also similar to Thomas. He was stubborn as a mule – once he had made up his mind to do, not do, like or hate something, then one could move heaven and earth for him, but there was no changing his mind. Abe also understood the value of hard work. For this, Thomas had every right to be proud. He had instilled within his son a work ethic that would last a lifetime and shape history.
All told, Abraham Lincoln was a fairly unremarkable young boy. However, as far as Thomas Lincoln was concerned, Abe was the most amazing young man ever to grace the planet with his presence. It was as though he had been created by god purely to remind Thomas that everything he loved would ultimately be taken from him. How could he stand losing the boy if the universe saw fit to once again punish him? Thomas knew the only answer was to not love the boy. The only way to keep him safe from the revenge of the universe. And so he maintained the stony silence. Allowed his beloved son to grow to hate him. Because Thomas could not stand to lose the beautiful boy like he had lost so many before.