Abel had settled himself at the small table in his room. A few of the pictures Solomon had given to him were out on the table, tucked to one side, but he held the one which showed him with his sons not long after he had adopted them. It had been so long since he had a picture of his boys when they had been children. He had many of Aran and his family before all but Aran's eldest had been killed. There was only one image of Azul, his wife, and son.
But none of his boys as they had been children and teens.
All these pictures were spread out on the table.
These images were as close to seeing his sons as Abel would ever be able to get again. He traced his sons' faces one at a time. An ache settled in his heart. Like with so many he had lost, it was hard to remember their voices. He could grasp their personality, see their smiles and remember many moments with his sons, but he couldn't remember the sound of their voice.
Abel closed his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to remember the sounds of Aran's soft; yet, stern tones when he had gotten older. Or even the timid nature he had as a child which had been reflected in his voice. Every time he tried to grasp at the sound, it trickled away.
The same went with the energy Azul had always displayed.
A soft knock cut through Abel's thoughts and attempts to remember. He let out a breath and set down the framed picture in the center of those spread out on the table. Perhaps it was for the best he didn't try to dwell on this matter. It could be he was only attempting to remember because Elizabeth and Lilly were alive in the other reality.
Abel crossed the room and opened the door. He blinked. This was the last person he had expected to see. The Lilith of the other reality stood before him.
"We need to talk." She gestured into the room. "May I?"
Abel stepped to one side.
Lilith strode into the room. She crossed over to the table and settled herself in the chair Abel had abandoned. He moved to the bed and sat there. "What did you want to talk about?" Abel kept his voice even. Pain sliced deeper into his heart.
His gaze flickered to one of the pictures on the table. It was more than half hidden by the others, but it showed Lilith with a child Aran. He had pulled it out from behind the one which had Abel with the boys. It was where he had hidden it centuries ago. The only picture of his love with one of their sons. Lilith, his Lilith, had never met Azul because of the war. But Aran. Little Aran had followed Abel to one of the meetings with Lilith. He had joined Abel a few more times, growing close enough to see Lilith as his mother.
"I know Lilly and Cain came to you over what's happening and while I appreciate what you've done, I need to know if you're doing this because you want my daughters to see you as their father." Lilith's gaze was even as their eyes locked.
The words cut through him. Not because they came to him from Lilith's voice, but because he had thought he had no right to know the two girls as it was. Abel forced himself to continue looking into the same eyes of the woman he had loved. They were colder than the ones he had known so well. This wasn't his beloved. She was what her reality had made her. What 02 had made her. His failings in that reality had destroyed the gentle, warm, compassionate woman who had held his heart for centuries even in death.
Abel forced himself to breathe. It was true then. They wanted nothing to do with him. To them he was still the man who had caused them so much grief. He had no right to know the girls. He had no right to know any of them.
"I understand," Abel stated after a moment. "I won't intrude on you or your daughters. I only acted because Lilly requested aid." It was a lie. He had acted for both the fact she had asked and because she was what his daughter might have been if she had been given a chance at life.
"You," Lilith cut off. A frown appeared on her beautiful, pale features. "What?"
Abel took a deep breath. It shuddered through him, mingling with the pain swelling in his heart. "I lost you and my children long ago," his voice cracked. He swallowed back the rising pain. She didn't need to hear his regret and pain. All she wanted was assurance he wouldn't interfere with her family. "I know they aren't my children," his voice was now steady, "and you aren't the Lilith I lost. Neither am I the person you knew," he continued. Her eyes were daggers piercing deeper into his own. He couldn't look away.
The frown deepened on her features. "I figured I would have to argue with you over this matter. At least you understand to stay away from my daughters." She touched the table as she made to stand. Her gaze slid from Abel to the pictures her hand now touched.
"I do." Abel stood.
Lilith's fingers trailed across the top image, her gaze locked on it.
"If there's nothing else," – he gestured towards the door – "perhaps you should rejoin your daughters and Cain."
"Who are these two?" she asked as she lifted the image. It was the framed one of Aran and Azul a month after Abel had adopted them.
Abel stiffened. A chill trickled down his spin. "My sons," he responded, tone terse.
"Your sons." Lilith looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "They look like Zoe's and Ron's boys."
His jaw ached as it tightened. "They're my sons, not Zoe's and especially not Ron's," the words slipped from him as a growl. "I raised them, not that—" he cut off and took a deep breath. The fire which had flared through him eased back. There was no need for him to get upset. This Lilith wasn't excepted to know any of this.
Lilith set down the framed picture a small frown on her face.
His heart froze. She was looking at the barely visible one which had her in it.
She made for the image. Abel moved forward to try and snag it, but too late.
Lilith lifted the image. Her eyes widened. "This is," the words came as a breath.
Words lodged in his throat. She looked at the image as if it were foreign which to her it would have been. There was nothing in her which reminded him of the woman who held Aran in the picture.
His lungs tightened. He couldn't breathe as he watched her. The picture not only showed Lilith but the table behind her which held his imperial cape with her cross over it and his hat resting off to the side. It was the one picture Lilith had let him take at their secret meetings so when the war was over and if they were ever to be together again they would have one picture of her with one of Abel's sons as a child. Such dreams had vanished when Cain had killed her.
"Please," Abel let the word out as a strained breath. He held out his hand. "Please, give me the picture." It couldn't get damaged. His heart lurched. If it was he would lose the only image of his beloved with Aran. The only image he had of her from those peace meetings. The last picture ever taken of her.
The Lilith from the other reality tore her gaze from the image.
"Please," Abel repeated. He took a careful step towards this Lilith. He held out his hand.
She hesitated. Her gaze moved back to the image.
Abel's lungs screamed for air.
"It's really that important to you?" she asked.
Abel nodded. His gaze lingered on the image held in her hand.
Lilith held out the picture to him.
His hand shook as he took the image from her. "Thank you," the words slipped from his lips with the pent-up air from his lungs.
"Why is it so important?"
Abel took the framed picture of him with his sons and slipped the picture of Lilith in behind it. "It's the only one of her with Aran," Abel told a half truth.
Lilith raised her eyebrows. It was a clear sign she didn't believe him. "Really? Is that the only reason you were freaked I was holding it?"
"Does it matter?" Abel asked. He tucked the image in behind the one of him and his sons. He started to pick up the pictures, careful not to damage any of them. He lifted the painting of the girls.
"What is that?" The image was snagged from him faster than he could react.
A small breath fled Abel. It seemed this Lilith wasn't going to just be content he had agreed to leave them alone. "A painting," he retorted. "If you won't mind," Abel held out his hand for the painting.
"You said your daughters died and there is no way you could commission such an image so fast. Did you lie?" Lilith glared at him over the framed picture of the two ten-year-old girls.
"No," Abel stated. "I painted that image a few weeks after the tenth anniversary of their death." He forced himself swallow back the pain. "Please, give it back." He didn't want to tell her he had just placed another, even more faded painting the girls behind the frame.
Lilith made no move to give it back. She shifted her hand and frowned.
Air froze in Abel's lungs as she pulled out an almost identical painting which was framed behind that one. She must have had grabbed both when she had taken them from him. This one showed the girls but they were slightly different from the older painting. It had been by request of his beloved he had painted both with his eyes instead of giving Lilly her eyes as he had done in the original painting. Lilith, his Lilith, had learned he had once drawn and painted images of their daughters to coup with losing them. She had requested one such image from him at one of their secret meetings. Abel had recovered the painting upon being taken as a slave to the Vatican. Or more over, Pope Gregory had given Abel the painting along with the rest of his beloved's personal affects.
"Blue eyes?" Lilith breathed as she looked at the image Abel had so lovingly painted for his beloved. For the Lilith he knew and not this one.
Pain stabbed deep into his heart. There was nothing of his love in this woman.
"Please," Abel repeated.
"Why do they have blue eyes in this one?"
"Because Lilith requested it," Abel whispered the words. "I painted that one for her."
She set down the image Abel had painted for his Lilith. There was no move to set down the other painting. "Would you mind if I took t his one?"
"Yes, I would." Abel's eyes narrowed.
"Not forever, just to show my girls." For the first time since meeting this Lilith, she looked at him and gave him a warm smile. A smile he remembered from his Lilith.
His heart flickered. Yet, she had told him he had no right to know them. So why should he let them see a picture he had painted?
"No. Give it back, please." Abel held out his hand once more.
Lilith made no move to pass it to him. She clutched the image closer to chest.
Abel let out a breath. "Please." He locked gazes with hers.
"Just for a day. I will return it," she promised.
Abel's heart flickered. "Fine," the word fell from his lips as a pained breath. "Just a day." His hand lowered. Each beat of his heart was someone ripping deeper into his chest. His gaze lingered on the image clutched to the alt Lilith's chest.
"Thank you." Lilith bowed her head to him. Strands of her far too short hair fell around her face. She strode from the room.
The sound of the door closing echoed through Abel, piercing deep into his heart.
x – Elizabeth – x
Elizabeth stared at the ceiling of the small room she shared with Lilly and her mother. The three beds were evenly spaced in the small room. It opened up a little closer to the door with a small space for a toilet and bathroom. It wasn't the best of rooms but all they could be given on such short notice, according to Solomon at least. It was either that or they would be sleeping with the yeniçeri or servants. Neither option applied much to her mother.
"This is so boring," Lilly complained as she stretched on her bed. The sound of her shifting came to Elizabeth. "Bethy, why don't we explore the ship?"
"No." Elizabeth watched the shadows shift across the ceiling.
"Mom might be awhile while she talks to alt dad. We could be back in the blink of an eye."
"You go."
Had their alt father done all of this out of the kindness of his heart? If not, then why hadn't Elizabeth seen him again? Could he be after something from all of them? It didn't seem like the man she had met a few times now. He was kind where 02 was bloody. Silent where 02 would have raged. There was nothing of 02 in him when she spoke with him. Even the scent of blood when he drank it was mild in comparison. He smelled more of the earth and the raw ionized air of lightening than the blood 02 had smelled of.
"But it's no fun by myself," Lilly complained. "Come on!" The sound of her leaping to her feet filled the air. "It will just be for a little while."
Maybe this alt father wanted to get to know Elizabeth and Lilly. Elizabeth's heart fluttered. Her lips twitched into a smile. It would be a dream come true if this was so. She would be able to get to know how her father should have been and not the man who had been consumed by 02.
After so many centuries of wandering and trying Elizabeth could at last get to know the version of her father he should have been. The smile grew on her face. Given he was acting to protect them, perhaps, just perhaps he viewed them as family and not just a family from another dimension.
The soft sound of Lilly moving came to Elizabeth. "Come on, before mom gets back."
Yet, Elizabeth would have to wait until their mother had spoken with their father, alt father. No, she should call him father. He wasn't alt at all. He was what their father should have been. The father who would have loved them rather than 02 who had viewed her as only a tool to aid in his destruction of the world.
Lilly's footsteps were close to the door now.
The door opened.
Lilly yelped. "Mom!"
"Where do you think you're going?"
"To see the ship," Lilly stated without hesitation.
"I told you to stay here."
"I'm not a kid anymore," Lilly groaned.
Elizabeth tilted her head back to see her twin and mother.
Pain flickered over Lilith's face. The words had always affected their mother.
"Just let me explore a little. Promise I won't go back down to the others or anything like that."
"Not right now." Lilith gestured to Lilly and crossed the room to where Elizabeth lay. "I have something to show the both of you."
Elizabeth's gaze flickered to the painting in her mother's hand. It was moved such that Elizabeth couldn't make out much outside of the back.
She straightened to make room on the bed for her mother sister. "You went to see fa- the father of this reality," Elizabeth corrected herself. "What did he have to say?" her heart flickered. Perhaps he wanted to speak with them.
Lilith's eyes darkened. Pain flickered over her eyes. She settled herself next to Elizabeth on the bed. "Lilly, join us." She patted the spot on her other side.
"Fine." Lilly settled herself on the bed. "What's that?" she pointed at the painting Lilith held.
"What I wanted to show you." Lilith turned the image, so they could see it. It was a painting.
"It's us!" Lilly exclaimed. "Where did you get this, mom? I've never seen a painting of Bethy and I at this age."
"The Abel of this reality."
"From alt-dad?" Lilly frowned. "But he said we died in your womb, right? So, how did he knew what we looked like?"
"I guess he lied." Pain glittered in her mother's eyes.
"Lied?" Elizabeth stared at the painting. He had seemed so earnest, so heartbroken when he had spoken about what had happened to the two of them in this reality.
"I'm so sorry, Elizabeth." Her mother drew her into an embrace.
If he had lied about them dying, then just what else was he lying about?
"May I," Elizabeth swallowed passed her horror, "may I see the painting?"
Lilith passed her the painting. Elizabeth's hands trembled as she took it. The image was old. She could tell this much by the wear on the frame alone. Had he really lied to them?
Her eyes burned as she ran her hand down the frame. She blinked. Her hand brushed something smoother than the back of the frame. Elizabeth turned the image over.
Unfamiliar handwriting was painted onto the back of the frame.
"'Never forget August eighth twenty-one eighteen,'" she whispered the message. That was less than a month before she and Lilly had been born. "'The day light died.'"
Below this was another message: An imaging of my little lights.
This wasn't what had drawn her to the back of the picture however. She looked at the corner hand rested at. There was a piece of an old photo sticking out from the frame. Elizabeth carefully pulled the picture from the frame.
In her mother's handwriting were three names: Abel, Lilith, and Seth, July 2118.
Below this, written in the same unfamiliar handwriting were the words: My lights due September 9, 2118.
Elizabeth flipped the photo. Her mother opened. Abel stood, holding their pregnant mother in his arms. Their aunt grinned as she touched Lilith's belly. Seth wasn't looking out of the photo at all.
"What is it?" Lilly demanded, drawing Elizabeth from the images.
"Mother, was there ever a photo of you while pregnant with us with dad and Aunt Seth?" Elizabeth asked.
"No, why?"
Elizabeth held out the photo to her mother.
Lilith took it and stared at the image.
"You look so happy, mom," Lilly commented. "As does alt-dad."
"My light?" Elizabeth whispered the phrasing on the back of both the painting and the photo. Her eyes widened. "He wasn't lying."
"What?" Lilly asked, frowning.
"On the back of the photo, there is handwriting I think is from alt father," Elizabeth started to explain. "He calls us his lights and there is a due date. Granted we were born premature, but still. Then on the back of the photo there is another message saying to never forget another date with the words the day the light died and the last stating this painting is an imaging of his light. We weren't born at all. He didn't lie."
Their mother didn't look away from the photo.
"So, alt-dad really did loss us in this reality." Lilly's smile melted from her face. "I'd hoped it was a lie. It just seems too depressing to loss a child, let alone two and then to also loss mom." She glanced at the photo. "Especially with how happy alt-dad looks in that photo."
Their mother's eyes widened.
"Did you forget he mentioned you died, mother?" Elizabether asked, voice soft. She touched her mother's arm.
Lilith stood. "We should all get some sleep."
"But—"
"Neither of you have been sleeping well since this started. We could all do with one night's rest."
Elizabeth hesitated. Her gaze locked onto the painting. "Mother, did father paint this?"
Lilith paused and bowed her head. "He said he did."
Elizabeth held to the painting even as she got back into bed. Even if this had been painted years after their death, it had to have been painful. Their father would have been drawing up what had to have been pain filled memories. She clutched the painting to her as if it were stuffed toy and she a child once more. There was no need for their father to be in pain anymore. She wouldn't leave him alone.
He had a family now.
(Author's Note: The Lilith of the other reality is supposed to be different from the one we all know and love. Much of her motivations are rooted in keeping her daughter's safe rather than the world. I don't know why, but I am having Abel calling the girls his light.)