He stood upon the beam, balancing in the cool breeze as he looked down upon the lights of the New York City. A particularly gust of wind cause him to stumble on the beam; but he righted himself, uncaring of whether or not he fell or stood - it would matter little.
He missed the quiet of the country, the peace of a time when the strongest worry was whether or not the gods would bless him, or whether he would displease his Lord. He missed the days when he trusted without question, and feared fire and water only for being filled with demons. He missed the terror a sight such as the one he saw from this beam should inspire - the fear of death in itself.
He missed mortality. The stories of his people told of Titans and gods ruling forever, , of prisons and captives toiling for eternities upon eternities - but eternity is always abstract until it became a real possibility. Two thousand years of fears, mistakes, loves, and lives made 'forever' a looming nightmare.
Even more so when the only option is to face them alone. He had hoped to befriend Henry - to at least meet him on equal footing; but it seemed that the past two millenia and the Dark Ages had done little to improve his social interactions. When he extended an opening for a meeting, or offered his help, it was suspected as though he had threatened the boy. He was almost at a loss as to where he went wrong, but he felt it was likely that they spoke two different languages in a way...
Perhaps it was with Abigail? He had no true excuse for threatening the woman - even two millenia of witchcraft, and heresy, and fire, and water was not enough to justify his actions. Having known Henry as she did, she would never have turned him in nor used him - and he had known that she was acquainted with immortality when he had spoken with her. She would likely have even welcomed the companionship for her husband for after her passing, and perhaps knowing her and Abraham would have allowed him to trust again in some small amount.
But perhaps it could never have worked with Henry - perhaps it would never work. At first glance, they seemed the same. Both were immortal, untrusting, hurt by the world they lived through; but when truly compared, differences became obvious. Henry had grown up in an advanced civilisation - in a world that was much more alike to the present when compared to Adam's own. Much of the superstitions and persecution of the Old World that had shaped his own life had disappeared by Henry's birth, and all that remained was the curiosity of a few scientists that had stumbled into his secret; and while in that circumstance they were the same, how could either think the other shaped by the same circumstances.
Having been betrayed by one of the few people he had allowed close to him and his secret, he had learnt his lesson quickly from Nora; and now he seemed to think that Adam should treat the world the same as he did - that he should be able to trust and forgive the world a bit more. But it wasn't as easy to be accepting when years of people suspicious of anything, and killing him for his own good had built up walls around him for his own protection.
Farber had the advantage, could act as a mortal should. While Farber, he could feel again without worry and conditions - forget that when he was hit by a car that the damage would never be permanent. When he stood as 'Adam', he still expected the people he daily interacted with to suddenly realise what was wrong with him, and to execute him. He still expected to be dragged before an emperor and crucified when he would not serve his 'god' and give the secret of his immortality - a secret he did not understand himself. Mengele had been the most recent to hold him in his power, but he had certainly not been the first.
While he had approached Henry in hope of a friendship, perhaps it had been more in the hope of a family rather than just a friend. Henry doubtlessly felt exhausted and aged after his two centuries; but the Adam, he was still a child. A small boy toddling around the peristyliam, clutching at the columns and plants as if he owned them; wandering around the exedra and pulling at the paintings, oblivious to the adult following them, ready to catch when the child falls. The child grows up secure in his belief that he can depend upon himself, never realising that the adult is there for them to depend upon.
And was that where he went wrong? Jealous of the innocence and purity of the babe, he tried to take it from him - dragging the boy down to his level instead of lifting the child up on the shoulders of experience and helping the boy grow until the years had grown so long that a small two thousand year difference became nothing. He envied the ability of this child to still love and die for others, to still risk his secret for the safety of others that would not exist for long. He envied the boy's ability to live, even when reason said it wasn't worth it - he looked at the happy child and wanted to break him, wanted to make the child grow up faster than was ever natural.
Was he his brother's keeper? Cain took the child's hand and dirtied it instead of plunging his own hands into the mud and the blood to keep the other's hands clean. Cain lifted his hands and struck at the younger brother in envy - and now Adam was left to mourn the mistakes he had made. He was his brother's keeper, but he had failed in that as in all else.
Perhaps time would heal the scars, granting him peace and the young wisdom until both understood the other. Perhaps immortality would weaken the pain and make equal those so different at the moment. He had made many mistakes; but if his immortality had taught him nothing else, then it was to learn from them.
AN: I was styling my sister's hair - which has never been cut off and is very long and beautiful - and as always I feel oddly like chopping it all off. Because I've felt the same about children that get to play and bechildren, it got applied to Adam somehow... I don't really recall how. This is set directly after the scene in the episode where Adam calls Henry from the beam on the roof, talking about the clock and ticking - it's a sad scene for some reason... 8-26-2015