TW: Mentions of suicidal thoughts
New York-1985
Over the years Henry and Adaline's friendship remained and grew. They visited each other when they could. They wrote letters and made phone calls when they couldn't. They began their relationship with an almost fevered enthusiasm. After being alone with their secrets for years they had finally found someone who could truly understand them. They could relate to each other in ways they couldn't with anyone else. Henry especially, after over a century alone, felt he would never catch up on all he wanted to say and Adaline was more than willing to listen and learn all she could from his experience.
It hadn't taken them long to realize that the conditions they had were most likely different but that didn't keep them from still having a lot in common. They each continued their research and shared their findings with each other. They had yet to find anything that answered any of their many questions but just having each other to share the quest with made all the dead ends seem not so bad anymore. They had shared many good and bad times together over the years.
Today was going to be one of the bad ones.
Adaline had come as soon as she'd gotten Abe's call. He'd been nearly inconsolable by the time he'd finally reached out to her and told her that Abigail had left and Henry had lost it. Adaline had been shocked to hear this had been going on for a year but she couldn't say the news itself was a surprise. Poor Abe had reached the end of his rope and was desperate for her help. She had reassured him that she would be there as soon as possible and would do everything she could to help. He was relieved, saying he'd done what he could think of and had only made things worse. But they both knew that she could relate to Henry in a way no one else could. She only hoped it wasn't too late.
As she stood on Henry's doorstep she hesitated before knocking and going in. She had no idea what would be waiting for her on the other side. From what Abe had told her, Henry was in a very bad state, worse than any she'd ever seen before. She wondered, not for the first time, why it had been so long before she had been told what was happening. Why had Abe waited so long to reach out to her? More importantly, why hadn't Henry called her himself? They were best friends and had been through so much together over the past 30 years. And yet, Henry had been going through the worst experience of his life for more than a year now and he hadn't sought out her help or support.
It hurt that he hadn't told her about this. Henry and Abigail had been the first people she had sought out when she had decided to end things with William. In fact, they had even let her stay with them for a while during that difficult time. Their support had been invaluable to her and being with them had helped heal what she had felt at the time was a heart too broken to be mended. Because of them she had been able to move on after that loss. She had loved William and had wanted to marry him and Henry and Abigail had been the only ones that could understand why she couldn't allow herself to do that.
Unfortunately, Adaline would have to admit she had seen this coming for a long time. Adaline knew that Henry had eyes for no one but Abigail. It had always been obvious how painfully he was in love with her. She had watched them through the years and she could see that his complete adoration of Abigail had never changed or failed through the years that had altered Abigail's appearance. She knew that Henry had never stopped loving Abigail.
But as a woman herself, Adaline could understand things that Henry could not. She could appreciate the insecurity that Abigail had felt with the appearance of wrinkles and gray hairs. She noticed the embarrassment that Abigail felt when her and Henry were out in public, when she noticed the stares of strangers who were surely judging their relationship. Adaline hadn't had to struggle with the effects of aging but as a woman she knew how important looks and beauty were. Lots of women may deny the importance of such things but they all felt it.
Henry couldn't understand that. He loved Abigail regardless of her appearance. He reassured her of that constantly and he thought it was enough. He didn't care what other people thought about them and he felt she shouldn't either. Still, Adaline was confused about Abigail's decision to leave because she had always been sure that Abigail still loved Henry too. In the end, Adaline wasn't sure that there was anything Henry could have done to make Abigail.
Adaline had failed in this too. Even though she was a woman and could better understand Abigail's feelings about growing older, she still couldn't understand completely. Adaline would always be 29 so she couldn't relate to Abigail anymore. Over the years she had noticed that things were changing between her and Abigail as well. While Henry had been trying to save his relationship with Abigail, Adaline had been struggling to save her own. It must have been terrible for Abigail to not only have her husband remain young while she got old but to also have one of her best friends remain unchanged by the years. Adaline understood it was painful for Abigail but it had been hard for her too. There was nothing to she could do to start herself aging again and it broke her heart to feel herself losing one of her best friends because of something she couldn't change.
Henry and Adaline's approaches to Abigail had been different. Henry had missed or ignored a lot of the signs but Adaline had acknowledged them all for a long time. But the end result of both was the same; Abigail was gone and neither one of them had been able to make her stay.
Adaline had expected this day for a while but she was still ill-prepared for it. With a looming sense of dread she knocked on door. She tried that several times with no answer before she used her key to let herself in. The house smelled stale and musty like no one had lived in it for a while which she supposed, in a way, no one had. It was dark even though it was the middle of the day because all the blinds were drawn shut and no lights were turned on.
"Henry?" she called out. She was afraid of the state she would find him in, reassured only by the fact that he couldn't do the unthinkable. Or, at least, he couldn't do it and still remain here.
"Henry?" she called out again, making her way to the living room. Abe had told her that was where Henry spent most of his time these days, even eating and sleeping there, though now that Abe had removed Henry's creepy evidence board and all his research there was no way of knowing if that would still be the case.
Even though he hadn't answered her when she'd called out that's where she found him lying on the couch, stoic and unresponsive. He looked terrible. She had always known Henry to be a man who took pride in a good appearance and it was unnerving to see him so unkempt. His pants and shirt were wrinkled and even from a distance they looked like they had been worn too many times. His hair was longer than he normally kept it and he looked like he hadn't shaved in weeks. But it wasn't any of those things that bothered her the most; it was his eyes. He stared off in the distance like he wasn't even there. She was certain that he hadn't even heard calling or saw her standing there.
She had been worried about scaring him with her sudden appearance but he looked so numb she was now afraid she wouldn't be able to get a response from him at all. She walked over to him and laid a hand on his arm as she bent down to speak to him. "Henry."
It still took a couple of seconds but a look of recognition finally appeared on his face. "Adaline?" he asked looking very confused to see her.
"Hi Henry."
"Wh-what are you doing here?"
"I came to see you. Abe called me."
Understanding passed over his face and then annoyance. "Oh," he said sounding displeased. Henry was clearly still angry at Abe.
She squeezed his arm to give him a nudge and he sat up so she could sit down on the couch next to him. Up close she could tell how skinny he was and she wondered just how little he was eating these days. She could also tell he hadn't had a shower in a while. It broke her heart to see how deeply the depression had taken hold on him. Grief had so altered the friend she knew.
"He shouldn't have bothered you," Henry said rubbing his eyes like he was trying to wake up.
"He didn't bother me. Hearing from him or you is never unwanted or inconvenient," she stressed since apparently it needed saying. "He's worried about you."
Henry only shook his head and gave a skeptical grunt like he did not believe that. It bothered her to see that he doubted it; Henry had never questioned Abe's feelings about him before. "Henry, Abe loves you. You know that."
"He has had a funny way of showing it as of late."
She knew he was talking about the incident where Abe had thrown out Henry's research on Abigail. She could understand how that would upset Henry but she didn't want him to push Abe away either. He needed him. "He's having a hard time. He's trying to help but he doesn't know how. His heart was in the right place."
"Did you come here just to take his side?" He could have said it in anger but instead it sounded as though he might cry.
"Of course not. I care about both of you." She reached out and took his hand. "Henry, why didn't you tell me what was going on?"
Henry hung his head and it was a long time before he spoke. "I…it's just temporary. I didn't feel you needed to know."
"We're best friends. You can tell me anything. I wished you had told me you were hurting."
He whipped his head around quickly to look at her. "She will be back," he said intensely.
Adaline wanted to agree because she knew that was what Henry wanted. But Abigail wouldn't be back and they both knew it. He clearly sensed she didn't believe it and it was almost like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince her. Abe had said Henry was in denial and Adaline could see that now for herself. But she also sensed he was close to admitting the truth. She could see he didn't really believe what he had just said either.
But she didn't want to make it worse by forcing him to make an admission. She wanted him to come to the truth in his own time. At a loss for what to say she wrapped her arm around him but he still knew. They always had been like that after all. They were such close confidants that they often didn't even have to say what they were thinking or feeling to get the point across. In her touch alone he could feel her doubt.
He looked hurt and maybe a little angry. He pulled away from her and stood up and started pacing the room before he spoke.
"O.K. fine. You want the truth? I was embarrassed. I didn't want to tell you that she had left. I didn't want to say…how could I say…"
"Say what?" she asked quietly.
"My wife left me," he said with a sob and she realized it must be the first time he'd ever said it. "My wife left me! Happy now?"
Of course she wasn't happy but she was relieved that he had finally admitted the truth of what was going on. Abe had said for a year Henry had kept saying that Abigail would be back. Now that he was no longer in denial he could begin the healing process.
Henry was crying and Adaline felt tears in her own eyes as she watched him. She wished he would come back and sit with her so she could comfort him. Physical comfort had been the very reason she had come; it was the thing she couldn't do for him at a distance. In those painful weeks and months after William it had been the only thing that had helped her feel better at all. There were really no words that could be said that would help in a situation like this but having someone hold you while you fell apart really made all the difference. She had wanted to do that for him like he had done it for her all those years ago.
Also, she wanted to share the grief with him. She felt the loss of Abigail too. She knew it was nowhere even remotely close to the depth he did but she was still hurting. She wanted to mourn with him the loss of her friend. For so long she had felt Abigail slowly slipping through her fingers but now she also had to face the facts: her friendship with Abigail was over and she would never see her again.
Henry stood across from her and cried with his face buried in his hands. He looked the most pitiful she had ever seen him but she would wait until he came back to reach out to him since he had gotten up to get away from her. But he didn't come back. Even when he stopped crying he just stood there looking back at her to the point that she began to feel uneasy. She had wanted to help him face his new painful reality but she had also wanted to help him through it. He had admitted the truth of his situation but now the look on his face was a hard one, not one ready to accept comfort.
Finally, she was forced to speak. "I'm sorry. I know this must be terrible for you."
"No, you don't. How could you? Me and Abigail were together for forty years. Forty years," he stressed. "And now, she's left me. Have you ever had the love of your life, your companion for four decades, decide she doesn't love you anymore and never wants to see you again?"
It really did sound so terrible when he put it that way. She had feared not being able to say the right thing and obviously she hadn't. "No, I haven't," she said quietly.
She would never admit it out loud and she hated that the thought had even occurred to her but ever since hearing about what had happened with Abigail, Adaline felt she had made the right decision with William. Over the years she had questioned herself so many times. She had regretted leaving him over and over again. But seeing how things had played out between Henry and Abigail, Adaline finally felt peace about the choice she had made. If she hadn't she might have eventually gone through this very same scenario. She hated that such a selfish thought could occur to her at such a time as this but she couldn't deny it was in her mind.
Henry continued to walk back and forth and she wished he would stop and let her take care of him. She couldn't relate exactly to what he was feeling but she had lost a husband herself once. They hadn't had nearly so many years together but that didn't mean she had loved him any less. In fact, she'd been so in love and so convinced they were meant to be together that she'd agreed to Clarence's proposal only a few months after meeting him. She'd loved him so much and their time had been so short. She was still thankful for Flemming and the reminder she was to Adaline of that brief life she'd lived with Clarence.
She tried to think back to that time when she had lost him and what she had felt. What had helped her through that time? What could she share with Henry now that might help him? Unfortunately, everything that came to her mind sounded hollow and painfully cliché. Really, you had to learn those lessons of healing through time. Having someone tell you wasn't enough; you had to experience them for yourself.
"I can't bear this, Adaline," he said wrapping his arms around himself as if he were trying to hold himself together. He sounded tormented. Things had been bad enough before but Adaline realized until now that denial had been a kind of protection to him. Now it was gone and he was in agony. "How am I supposed to live without her? I wish I didn't have to."
He sounded like he wanted to end things. Would he? Of course, it didn't really matter because it wasn't an option. But even though he couldn't end his life she worried very much about a mental and emotion state that wanted to. If anything, she should feel more concerned; Henry couldn't act on his feelings so they could only fester over time.
She got up and walked over to him. She put her hands on his arms and rubbed gently. She needed to get him to focus his mind on better thoughts. Thinking about wanting to die and being unable to would not help him. She wouldn't deny that his situation was grim but there were definitely thought processes that would make it even worse.
"You have people who still care about you," she said gently. "Think of Abe. You still have him. You still have me. I know it doesn't replace Abigail but you're not alone. We're going to help you get through this."
"I can't live with myself and I can't end my life. That makes me a monster."
The anguish in his voice made her ache and she feared he had fallen into a place she wouldn't be able to reach. She desperately tried to hold herself together. His look practically begged her to understand and she did but she couldn't let him fall any farther down into this pit. "No, it doesn't. It makes you a grieving man with a broken heart. I know it doesn't seem like it right now but it won't always hurt this much. I know that sounds like a line but I know from experience that it's true."
"Even worse."
"What?"
"The only thing worse than what I'm feeling right now is imagining that there might be a day when I could be capable of forgetting her or not loving her anymore."
"I'm not saying you'll forget her or stop loving her. I'm not saying that at all," she stressed. "When I lost Clarence I thought my life was over forever. I couldn't imagine anything good ever happening again. But then only a few weeks later I met you for the first time and being friends with you has been one of the best things in my life. I still love Clarence and I will always remember him. But it doesn't hurt as bad as it used to. Good things can still happen."
Her words didn't seem to have any positive affect on him. Henry pulled away and collapsed onto the couch. He looked so exhausted like he might faint at any moment. She went and sat beside him but something held her back from reaching out to touch him. "Maybe I don't want it to," he said quietly, his tone alarmingly cold. "Maybe I don't want life to 'just go on.' Abigail is irreplaceable. Any life without her is no life at all. The only thing holding me together was the hope that maybe she would come back; that maybe this was just some big misunderstanding. That maybe I would see her again. Now, that's gone."
And she was the one that had taken that away. Henry had wanted to remain in his denial but she had made him face reality. He felt she had taken away his last bit of hope, his lifeline and she began to feel afraid. She had wanted to help but she seemed only to be making matters worse.
Henry had been her lifeline in the darkest times of her life. They had first met when she had been drowning in grief, unable to believe she was a widow so young. She'd met him again when she was lost and terrified by the prospect of what she was becoming. Then him and Abigail had put her back together when she was certain her heart would never recover from the loss of William. All those terrible times he had been there for her. She wanted to help him like he'd helped her. Why couldn't she seem to? She wasn't making it better. It was like her very presence was making it worse.
"I know I'm not doing a very good job here but I'm trying to help," she admitted. "Please, just help me understand how I can help you."
"Don't you get it? Nobody can help me." He paused and gave her a look she had never seen before. "Least of all you."
"What does that mean?" she asked, startled.
"I can't even look at you," he said turning away from her, sounding disgusted.
Adaline felt her breath catch in her throat. She had never heard this tone of contempt in Henry's voice before especially not directed at her. "What? Why?"
"I look at you and all I see is the problem."
"I don't understand."
Henry was growing angry now. "I look at you and I just see what we are. I see what we aren't. If it weren't for that, for what I am, Abigail would still be here."
Adaline didn't know what to say. She had expected Henry to need her, to want her to be with him right now. She had thought their shared affliction would help to comfort him since she was the only one who could understand what it was like. She hadn't expected him to try to push her away and she certainly hadn't expected to be to him a symbol of the problem that had been the reason for Abigail's leaving.
"You and I we're not even the same," he added.
Adaline felt her heart start to pound in fear. This was something they didn't talk about and for good reason. Her and Henry were alike in that neither one of them was aging but they were different in one major way: Henry could die and come back to life but Adaline could not. Adaline had never died and, though they weren't certain, they both felt very strongly that if she did she would stay dead. They both knew it but they had an unspoken agreement not to talk about it. In a world where they were different from everyone else they needed each other. They needed to be alike. It had been best to overlook this difference in favor focusing on those things they could share.
Still, she had always known that it was a difficult subject for Henry. He had experienced death, many times but it was something she could not empathize with. She tried her best to understand but it wasn't something they could share. He did his best to accept this but she knew it hurt that in this area he was still alone. They knew it could have caused a rift between them so they never really went into it all that much. Adaline could see that not addressing this problem before had been a mistake because now, when Henry was depressed and feeling he wanted to die, was the very worst possible time for it to come up.
Adaline felt a sense of dread she never had around him before. He was envious of her. He wanted death and he resented her for her possibility of having it when he could not. "Henry, don't," she whispered as she shook her head. She couldn't do this, not right now. "Please, don't."
It was bad enough that she had already lost Abigail over the fact that she couldn't age. She couldn't lose Henry too over the fact that she could die. Losing Abigail was hard enough; she could not bear to lose Henry too. She needed him. She couldn't bear this terrible secret life without him. She'd always been able to count on him ever since the beginning. How would she make it in the world if she was all alone?
But it was all too easy to see that Henry had made up his mind and when he spoke the certainty in her voice confirmed it. "You know nothing about what it's like to be me. The dying, the coming back, the knowledge that no matter how terrible the world gets I'll have to be here to see it. You understand none of that."
"Please, don't do this. I'm begging you."
"You don't have to suffer like I do. It could all be over for you today, if you wanted. I'm in so much pain all the time and you don't understand it. I can't even talk to you about it. You've never even died once. You don't know how that feels. I, on the other hand, know exactly how it feels. I have to feel it over and over yet it's always out of my reach."
Adaline could see now that she had failed Henry, not just today but for a long time now. Henry had needed to talk about his death experiences more often and she had let him down. She could remember Henry talking more of his deaths back when they had first met. Adaline had listened but she had never known what to say. She'd always wanted to help but she didn't have the experience necessary to give good advice or comfort. Her silence hadn't been for a lack of caring but Henry must have taken it that way because he talked of it less as the years had passed. Abigail's leaving had not caused this particular issue; it had just brought to the surface in intensity what Henry must have felt for a long time. It was true that Henry was miserable and seeking a way out but this was obviously not a new thought for him.
"If I was like you I could be done. All of this would be over."
"You don't really mean that."
"That's the thing though; I really do. Not that it matters because I can't have it."
"Stop it! Stop it!" she said firmly. This needed to end. There was too much between them to have him just be willing to throw it all away over this. Could he really sacrifice their 30 years of friendship over a single fight? She felt herself growing angry that he was trying to do that. "I know you're hurting and tired and experiencing unimaginable pain. I know that and it breaks my heart. But pushing me away isn't going to make things better. I know our conditions are different but we still have so much that we share and most importantly we care about each other. I know that I don't have experience when it comes to dying but that doesn't mean I don't care very much about what it's like for you. Please…we need each other."
Henry stared at her a long while and she had begun to hope maybe she'd gotten through. But when he spoke all those hopes disappeared.
"You need to go." His voice was firm and there was a finality in it that ripped her in two.
She wanted to fight for him but she could tell now was not the time. He was closed down and unreachable. She could stay and tell him all he meant to her but she couldn't make him accept it. She wanted to help him see all they had instead of focusing on what they didn't share but she couldn't do that when he refused to look. She knew that only damage would come from pushing right now.
"Can I come back tomorrow?"
"I don't know." He wasn't even looking at her now.
She stood, accepting defeat and used everything within in her to hold herself together until she could at least make it out the door. She stopped to write her number on a piece of paper and left it on the coffee table.
"I'll be in town for a few days. This is the hotel where I'll be staying. Call me when you're ready. Anytime."
She walked slowly to the door and she couldn't help but feel like this would be the last time she'd ever be here. Maybe even the last time she ever saw Henry. She knew she shouldn't but she decided to add one more thing before she left. She feared she wouldn't recover if he didn't reciprocate this but she had to say it.
"Henry, you're one of the best things that's ever happened to me and I would hate to lose you."
She wanted him to stop her; she hoped maybe he would say he changed his mind but he remained still and silent. She finally left, crying before she made it to the door. She had come here to help Henry, to try and do what she could to make things better for him. But now she feared she'd only helped to push him over the ledge on which he'd been hovering.
Over the following days she visited Abe. She thought about doing some sight-seeing but her heart wasn't in it at all. Mostly, she sat in her hotel room by the phone and waited for it to ring. She hoped that after Henry had some time to think that he would feel differently about what had happened between them.
After four days of silence Adaline got on a plane and headed home. She had what Henry felt he wanted and she could see that he despised her for it. She didn't want to believe that this was the end of their relationship but if there was something she understood all too well it was endings. And this felt very much like an ending.