Abe couldn't imagine who might be knocking on his shop door when it was this late at night and pouring buckets. He had just been about to turn in when he had heard the knocking on the front door of the shop. As he headed downstairs he grabbed the baseball bat he kept around to scare off the trouble makers. You were certain to get when you lived in New York and Abe was sure that was exactly what he would find this time too. No one would have any respectable reason for being here so his mind jumped to the worse. When he got down into the darkened shop he saw a man in a jacket with the hood pulled up and hunched over close to the door to try and escape the rain.

Abe's grip on the bat tightened and he cautiously opened the door. "Can I help you?" he asked gruffly, prepared for a fight if need be. But his mouth dropped open in surprise and his hands fell slack on the bat nearly dropping it when the man pushed back his hood and looked up at him.

Abe had not seen that face in years, in decades, actually. But that didn't matter; he would recognize that face anywhere. It was the only face that had looked exactly the same every day of his life.

"Dad?" he asked quietly, his voice a mixture of shock, awe, and confusion.

"Hello Abraham," Henry said as he squinted through the rain that ran down his face.

Abe felt like he was looking at a ghost. Despite the fact that Abe had seen Henry die countless times this was actually a feeling he'd never felt before in relation to Henry. He may have watched his father die many times as he grew up but he had never lost him. That was until mom left. In the end it wasn't death that had stolen Henry from him, it was life and circumstances. It had been so long since he'd seen Henry he was almost just a memory to Abe. He was a ghost from Abe's distant past, someone he thought he'd lost forever. He was a stranger to Abe now.

Abe had not seen Henry in nearly thirty years. Soon after Abe had confronted Henry about his mad search for Abigail Henry had left. Abe had thought about that exchange many times over the years. He knew he'd done the right thing. Henry had been going crazy, spending every second of an entire years chasing every wild lead he got that might lead him back to Abigail. It was a path that would only lead to destruction. But while Abe knew he had been right to do it, he also knew it was the very reason Henry had left. While it was exactly what Henry had needed to hear, Henry had not been ready to accept it. It hadn't stopped Henry from continuing his crazy search; it had only pushed him into doing it from afar. When Henry had left it had been partly a relief but it had also been a terrible blow to a heart that was already broken.

While Abe had not seen Henry in all of that time he had heard from him occasionally. Abe had gotten letters from him usually coming every few months and a very rare phone call even more infrequently than that. The letters were always polite and vague and pretty brief only skimming the surface of Henry's day to day life. From them Abe knew where Henry was and what job he was working at any given time, but not much else. Henry didn't stay in one place for long and he had never come back home. He spoke of the places he had seen and of his job as a gravedigger but he had never alluded to the dark subjects of his life that Abe had always seen in between the lines. The phone calls had been terribly strained and they had stopped a few years ago.

Abe had wanted this day to arrive for so long. For years after Henry had disappeared Abe had hoped he would come back home. Abe might have wanted some relief from Henry and his grief but he had never wanted him to leave. He hoped that after a little time away he would eventually start moving on and return home. But as the years drug on Abe had resigned himself to the fact that Henry was never coming home. In addition to losing his mom he had lost Henry too. He had given up the idea of ever knowing his father again.

With all of that behind them it was a little more than a shock for Abe to finally come face to face again with Henry. Henry made a move to come inside but Abe didn't step aside to allow him. "Wh-what are you doing here?" Abe asked holding out a hand. He was still trying to make sense of the fact that Henry was here, right here, in front of him after all of this time. It was a shock, one he needed a few moments to get past. There must be a reason that Henry was here; it wouldn't be normal for him to just 'drop by' after all this time. And Abe wanted to know what that reason was.

Henry looked confused and a little hurt by the motion. "Can't I come in?" he asked, his voice sounding broken, his tone conveying how lost he felt.

Henry looked like he hadn't slept in months. The bags under his eyes were deep, his hair and clothes were a mess and he had several days of growth on his face. His breathing was ragged and his pupils were dilated.

"Are you...are you on something?" Abe asked in disbelief when he took it all in.

Henry looked at him, the shame in his eyes enough of an answer for Abe.

Abe rolled his eyes. He shouldn't be surprised. Henry had been heavily numbing his pain with alcohol the last time Abe had seen him; it would make sense that he had moved on to something harder in the many years since then. Not a surprise, but a disappointment to be sure.

"What are you really doing here?" Abe asked frustrated by this turn of events.

Even in his altered state Henry picked up clearly on Abe's tone and the emotions behind it. He looked hurt. "I...I think I took much. Please...I'm afraid I'm going to die."

The shock of Henry's presence was fading and was replaced by anger and all those old disappointments. Of course, Henry wouldn't be here for any good reason. He wasn't here for Abe. He was here for his own benefit and to cause a mess Abe would have to deal with. He didn't want to see Abe; he only wanted him to fish him out of the river if need be.

"Yeah, so what do you want me to do about it?" he asked. He knew it sounded harsh but it was hard to contain.

"I'm tired of doing it alone," Henry said, closing his eyes in pain. "So many times...alone," he said almost to himself. "I don't want to do this anymore."

Abe looked away, unable to look at Henry for a moment. He clenched his fists at his side. "Please, don't turn me away," Henry begged.

That's exactly what Abe wanted to do. Henry had left him when he'd needed him. Why shouldn't Abe do the same? He was so angry, so hurt. But he wasn't heartless. Henry looked so pathetic and helpless right now and he was still Abe's father. No matter how angry he was at him, that would never stop being true.

Abe sighed in frustration. "Come in," he said stepping aside and waving Henry in. Henry started to walk in but he tripped on his way in. Abe reached out quick and grabbed him before he could fall to the ground. He was just resisting to the urge to roll his eyes in irritation when Henry looked up at him.

"Thank you," Henry said. He said it so sincerely that it made Abe pause and feel a sudden rush of guilt for being so frustrated. The way he looked at Abe made him feel a shot of compassion towards Henry. It was like Henry wasn't used to receiving kind gestures. He looked as if he couldn't quite believe it. Abe couldn't help but wonder what kind of torment and loneliness Henry had been through in the past several years. It was of his own doing of course but that didn't stop Abe from feeling sympathy for him. What must he had been through that he didn't even believe in small gestures of kindness?

"Come on," Abe said a bit kinder tightening his arm around Henry's shoulders and leading him through the shop and upstairs.

Abe lead Henry to the guest room. It was sparsely furnished since Abe was not one to have much company but it had a made bed so it would do just fine. He led Henry over to the bed and sat him down before going to the bathroom. Abe brought a towel back and helped Henry out of the sopping wet jacket he was wearing. He started to dry Henry's hair but then he wondered why he was doing it for Henry; he should just let him do it for himself. He handed the towel to Henry, remembering that he was angry with him. It had been so natural for him just to fall back into the habit of caring for Henry. He hadn't even thought about it.

Home. He finally came home.

Abe was struck by the thought but he was alarmed by the shift inside of him. He started to walked away from Henry, trying to stop the entanglement he already felt forming between them.

"You are such a good boy," Henry said with admiration and then he was pulling Abe into a hug before he could get away. Abe always hated it when Henry got sentimental. Even before this mess he had always brushed off Henry when he had gotten too touchy feely. But right now it was hard. Henry's defensives were clearly stripped away, leaving his emotions, raw as they were, out in the open.

But more than that, it was hard to do because Abe wanted this from Henry. It had always been a difficult balancing act through the years, finding out how much or how little attention Abe needed from Henry as he grew older. Abe knew that Henry had always tried his hardest to treat Abe like an adult. Immortality aside, Henry was like all other parents and he would always see Abe as the child he once was. Henry would try his best to treat Abe as an adult while still showing him how much he cared for him. Most parents just didn't have to do that when their children were as old as Abe was.

And a child never full grew out of wanting their parent either. No matter what anyone said, it was still there, maybe deep down inside, but still there. Abe was just the only one who was fortunate enough to have his father remain the same person physically that he had always been throughout the years. Henry's arms were strong around Abe. They still felt safe and secure as they once had, having never changed from the ones that held when he was a child. They could still make him feel protected and unconditionally loved, if he let them. He'd been without it for so long but he did still want it, despite the fact that he felt he shouldn't.

It surprised Abe how quickly it all came rushing back. But it wasn't just the good that came back. It was the pain and the questions too. Why had Henry left him? Why had he been absent when Abe had needed him the most? Why hadn't he been there to help Abe through his own pain? Abe knew how hurt Henry had been after Abigail had left but they could have gotten through it, together. But Henry and forced them both to have to deal with it alone. Remembering those questions opened up a wound Abe had thought had healed better. But it opened up freely and made him resent the arms around him.

He pushed Henry away gently, breaking the hug as naturally as he could. He didn't want to be cruel but he needed the space.

"The first time I saw you, I just wanted to give you everything," Henry said his eyes taking on a distant look back into the past as Abe pushed him back against the bed and pulled the covers around him. "I've been such a failure to you. All the secrets and lies, all of the moving...you deserved so much better," Henry moaned.

"I didn't mind all of that," Abe said quietly as he sat down on the edge of the bed beside Henry and looked down into his lap. He meant it too. Sure, he'd had his moments, especially when he'd been young, when Henry's secret had felt like a burden. But for the most part he really hadn't minded. The secret keeping and the running had been hard to deal with at times but it had always been worth it. Abe loved Henry so he'd been willing to do it. What he had minded, what he couldn't deal with right now, was the years Henry had voluntary spent away from him. He couldn't bear the abandonment.

"Look at you," Henry said looking up at Abe, placing his hands on his cheeks and stroking them with his fingers. His eyes studied Abe's face as if seeing it for the first time since he'd come home. He took it in like he was looking at a new man and, in a way, Abe supposed he was. He'd looked very different the last time Henry had seen him.

"Yeah, I got old. That's what happens to normal people when almost thirty years passes," Abe said, nearly squirming under Henry's gentle touch and scrutinizing stare. It made him uncomfortable to have Henry's attention so focused on him. Part of him wanted to lean in to the touch and affection Henry wanted to give him but the other part of him felt somehow embarrassed to be seen. He knew Henry was looking at him now, for the first time, as an old man. It wasn't as if Henry was doing it negatively; it was just a way he'd never looked at Abe before. It was no longer just the expression of parent who was watching his child as he grew up; it was also the expression of a parent who was watching their child near the end of his days.

Henry's face crumbled after a few moments of taking him in. Abe knew he could see all the years that had pasted written on Abe's face. Abe was the undeniable proof of how much time they had spent separated. It was easy for Henry to lose track of time with his ageless face but Abe with his ordinary one had kept a record. It was like the reality of it all had just had hit Henry. "I've missed so much. What have I done?" he cried.

Henry tried to pull Abe closer but Abe had had enough. He pushed Henry's hands off his face and got off the bed, walking a few feet away. He could see in Henry's expression that the gesture hurt Henry but he didn't care. He was glad even. Henry had sure hurt him enough. "You left. That's what you did," Abe said, his voice bitter and matter of fact, his back turned to Henry. Abe was unable to ignore the pain he was feeling any longer; it was winning out among all the other emotions.

"Abe, I didn't want to leave. Believe me."

"Then why did you?" Abe said crossing his arms and turning around to glare at Henry. He was done with all of Henry's reminisces and caring remarks. He wanted answers.

"I was such a disaster after your mother left. You were moving on but I couldn't...not yet."

"So, you had to disappear to do that?"

"I kept in touch."

"It's not the same thing and you know it. Dad...you've been gone for almost thirty years. I don't even know who you are in anymore."

"I know," he agreed sadly. "I just didn't want to bring you down with me. I thought it would be best if I removed myself, if I took myself and my grief somewhere else where they couldn't hurt you."

"Why was that just your decision? Why didn't I get a say?"

"I'm your father. I wanted to protect you from that."

"I wouldn't have minded. Dad, I wanted to take care of you," Abe said, his words catching in his throat unexpectedly.

"Abe..." Henry started sympathetically.

"No. No," Abe said stopping him. "I was there for you. You weren't alone. I was right there. And it didn't even matter to you!" Abe was shouting now but he didn't care. He wanted the anger to win. Better the anger than the pain. He would much rather feel how angry he was at Henry instead of the rising grief he was starting to feel.

"Abe. That is not true," Henry insisted.

"It is true. Mom left and I didn't matter to you anymore."

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Henry asked, shocked at the words. It was like this was a completely new idea to him.

Abe felt his frustration grow. It was so obvious; how could Henry be so dense about it? "Of course I really believe that. You just disappeared off the face of the earth. You didn't care about what happened to me."

"I've always cared."

"No, you didn't," Abe said, turning away again. He suddenly grew tired and very sad. The anger was fading, replaced by the feelings of abandonment and betrayal. He wanted to remain tough but it had not taken long for these emotions to win out.

"If you cared you would have seen. You would have thought about the fact that maybe...maybe I needed you."

"Abraham...I'm sorry."

"How do you think I made me feel to be abandoned by not one but both of my parents?"

"Oh Abraham..."

"No. No. Just stop it," Abe said finally holding out a hand towards Henry to stop him but still unable to look at him. He could tell by Henry's voice that he was crying and Abe couldn't bear to see that right now. He had to bite back his emotions for a moment before he could speak again. "I don't think you're going to die tonight. Just...try and get some sleep," he said with finality, leaving the room without another word.

He closed the door behind him and leaned against it hanging his head. The anger was completely faded now and he allowed himself to feel what was left in its place. He now felt what he would not allow Henry to see: just how much he had hurt him.

Abe had not slept a wink all night long. He hadn't even attempted sleep. He was where he had been all night, sitting on the roof staring at the sky. He had watched the stars all night, battling with his own thoughts until the stars had faded with the morning sun. Even after thinking about it all night, Abe wasn't sure how he felt about it all.

He knew he was happy to see Henry. If he were honest he knew it was the truth. But it was so tainted and covered up by the pain of the past he couldn't feel it. He had worked a long time to come to a place of acceptance at not having Henry in his life and to be pleased with his life as it was now. But just by showing up on his doorstep, Henry had managed to undo all of that, leaving Abe feeling like he was at square one again.

"Abraham."

Abe heard Henry's voice behind him and he turned. Henry stood there, looking very much better than he had last night. He had obviously cleaned up and he must have already been out because he was wearing new clothes he hadn't been wearing last night. He was wearing nice pants and a shirt with a vest and tie and he looked better than Abe had seen him look in a very long time. Especially on top of the state he had been in last night it was a surprise to Abe.

Abe made a move to get up but Henry held out a hand to stop him and walked closer sitting in the chair across from Abe. He kept a respectful distance between them and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he looked seriously at Abe. Abe was relieved to see that Henry's face was composed and his mind seemed to be clear.

He took a deep breath before speaking. "Abraham, I owe you a huge apology for last night-"

"Dad-" Abe began but Henry held up a hand.

"No. I was very selfish last night. I shouldn't have come to you when I was...like I was last night," Henry said, looking ashamed and not even able to admit it. And I am truly sorry."

It was a lot more difficult to be angry with Henry now than it had been last night. It had been easy to be angry with him when his brain had been messed up and his emotions heightened by the drugs he'd taken. Now that he was calm and in his own mind it was hard to be so off putting. It had been easy to believe that Henry's words weren't sincere last night when he had been under the influence. It was harder to discount them now. Abe knew he should say it was alright but the words were caught in his throat.

"I thought about coming to see you so many times and that wasn't at all how I wanted it to happen. I just, I was afraid to see you again and I suppose my altered state pushed me into finally doing it. But it was wrong and I'm sorry."

Abe didn't know what to say. Henry had been afraid to face him? He had assumed all these years that Henry just hadn't cared enough to come home. He had unfairly thought that Henry had only been concerned with his own problems. He had never really thought Henry might be nervous about how he would be received once he did come back home.

"It seems I'll never be able to stop saying sorry for all the ways I've failed you," Henry said with a smile but it was humorless and heavy with sorrow. "The things you said last night..."

Abe felt embarrassed when he remembered. He really hadn't meant to be so forthcoming with Henry and he had hoped maybe Henry wouldn't remember it in the morning. "I, I was angry-"

"You don't need to apologize. You have every right be angry. And you have the right to feel the things that you felt. But I want you to know that I never stopped caring for you. I can see now why you felt that way and you're right to feel that way. But I never stopped loving you, not for one second and you need to know that."

Abe averted his eyes. He didn't quite know who this rational man was. Henry was being so sensible and so loving. Abe didn't know how Henry's words could be true after all of this time but he couldn't deny them.

"I never wanted to hurt you. Never. I never wanted to abandon you. I'm so sorry," Henry said looking at Abe. There were tears in Henry's eyes now. He may have been more controlled than he was last night but he was still a very sensitive person. And he was terribly remorseful. Anyone could see it and it was so potent that Abe had to look down. Abe had never seen a man hold out his heart in his hand more than Henry was to him right now.

"I have missed you so much. I made a real mess of everything...but I want to change. You are the most important thing to me and I want to be a part of your life again. I want you to be a part of mine."

Abe slowly shook his head, looking down again. "Dad...I don't know," he said pressing a fist to his mouth, overcome by the hurricane of emotion he felt inside. He felt so many things all at once. Anger, betrayal, love, fear, compassion. He didn't know how to deal with any of it. He hadn't seen Henry for so long and he had not expected any of this. He had wanted Henry back for so long but he'd also given hope of it happening, long ago. Now he was here telling him the things he'd wanted to hear for so long.

"It will be on your terms," Henry insisted. "Whatever you want. And I promise there won't be any more drugs, no more drinking. I'll get a job and I...I won't do anymore investigating. I promise you I'm done with that," Henry paused. Abe knew that last part was the hardest of all. He had to admit that he was very surprised to hear Henry offer up such a large sacrifice. He knew how important finding Abigail had been to Henry. But Henry knew how much that pursuit had hurt Abe and he was willing to give it up. He was actually putting Abe above that. Abe could scarcely believe it.

"And anything else you say," Henry continued, nearly begging now. "Abraham...I know I could never change the past, but I want to try and make it up to you. If you'll let me back in."

It took Abe a while to answer and Henry was patient waiting. "Listen, Dad...all this time's that pasted. It's been so long...I'm not...we aren't...," Abe started, stuttering over his words. He took a deep breath and looked down, avoiding Henry's gaze. "I just don't think I can do it."

The words left Abe's mouth and they were followed by several moments of silence. He finally chanced a look up at Henry. He could tell that his answer was not the one that Henry had expected or the one he had hoped for. Abe felt his heart contract in...guilt? Pain? He wasn't sure what it was that pained his heart as he saw Henry's reception of his answer.

Henry quickly put on a smile, a brave but very strained one, meant for Abe's benefit and Abe could tell that it just barely contained the agony that Henry felt. "I understand," Henry said bravely, no doubt using all of the strength he had left inside of him. "I will respect your wishes."

Abe was surprised and he looked at Henry curiously. He couldn't believe it. Henry never dropped anything. He never let anything go even when you asked him to. He never gave up on people even when they gave up on him. It's just who he was. Abe wondered if Henry really had changed. He would have had to if he meant the words he'd just said.

Henry sat in defeat and silence for a few moments, maybe hoping that Abe would change his mind, before he stood up to leave. "Well," he said, still with a brave face. "I guess I'll get out of your hair. I'm sorry again for inconveniencing you last night...truly I am. I assure you it will not happen again. I just...I hope someday you will come to forgive me for everything I've done. And I hope you know how much I love you."

Abe felt like saying something; he should say something. But he didn't know what so he watched in silence as Henry turned and left. Abe felt guilty as he sat there alone. He shouldn't feel guilty. He'd earned the right to be angry. Henry had left him when he had needed him the most. He'd only cared about his own grief when Abigail had left. He'd not stopped to even think about what Abe had been going through. He hadn't been a father to him ever since then so why should Abe allow him to be one again now?

But despite all those reasons why Abe felt he was justified in his anger, it didn't take away from the feeling of emptiness he felt in Henry's absence. He stood up and walked to edge of the roof and looked down at the street below. He saw Henry walking away from the shop, his walk determined but his shoulders notably slumped. No one could say that he hadn't earned the right to be angry at Henry. He could be angry but that didn't mean he couldn't forgive Henry. It didn't mean he couldn't let him back into his life again. And it certainly didn't mean he didn't still love him. Abe had buried those feelings deep over the years but just this short encounter made them spring up anew.

He felt sympathy as he watched Henry walk away. He knew Henry would torment himself forever, quite literally, over this. Abe could practically hear the inner lashing he was giving himself as he walked away from Abe's life. Was that fair? Was it really right that Abe should make him pay for this mistake for an eternity? His anger didn't have to fade all at once. It and acceptance could come gradually. It wouldn't have to after all this time; Abe knew if couldn't come all at once. But Abe could give him forgiveness right now. Henry was only human after all. A very sensitive and loving one at that. He was flawed and messed up and made mistakes just like everyone else did. And the mistake Henry had made was only because he had been hurt himself, terribly so.

What must it have taken for him to come here? Sure, it was fear and the inhibition of drugs that had finally pushed Henry over the edge to coming back to Abe. But it was not a new idea. Coming back into Abe's life, seeking forgiveness and acceptance, and cleaning up his life, was something Henry had surely been thinking about for a long time now. How much humility would it have taken to come back against the awkwardness of so many strained years, on his knees, begging Abe's forgiveness? Abe wasn't sure he would strong enough to do it, if he were to find himself in the same situation.

Hadn't Abe worried about his increasing age? Hadn't he thought about growing old and feared doing it all alone? But if Henry were here he wouldn't have to do it all alone. He could have family and companionship again. He tried to fight the desire in him that wanted that. What if Henry left again? What if Abe let him into his life again and got a place of dependence on him, only for Henry to up and leave again? Abe wasn't sure how he could bear that. He didn't trust Henry not to do that again. Henry was practically a stranger to him now, with nearly thirty years between. How would they even begin to grow close again?

But as Abe watched Henry get more and more distant on the side walk he couldn't help but think that this could very well be his last chance. Henry had been gone for nearly thirty years. If he were to do that again Abe knew he would not be around to see it. He didn't think Henry would stay away for so long the next time, but then again, it had been Abe who had sent him away this time. Henry might never come back if he thought that's what Abe wanted. Abe knew he'd hurt Henry, that he'd made sure Henry knew how much he had hurt him. At the very best, it would be a long time before Henry would try and chance another visit with Abe. Abe got the haunting feeling that this would be his last chance to have a relationship with his father. If he did not take it now, he would never have it again.

Abe was running down the stairs through the shop and outside before he knew it. Well, he came the closest to running that he could manage. It was not at all fast enough to catch Henry who he could just barely see ahead of him. He took off after Henry as fast as he could, huffing and puffing along the way. "Henry!" he shouted after him but Henry didn't seem to hear him and at this rate Abe knew he was never going to catch up with him.

Sorrow already threatened to overcome Abe. Henry had come back, he'd finally come home after all of these years just as Abe hoped he would. And Abe had sent him away. He'd gotten the chance he'd longed for and he threw it away. He would never forgive himself if Henry got away from him again. He already felt despair and tears fill his eyes at the loss of this relationship that he could have had again.

How could he get Henry's attention? An idea occurred to him but he hesitated. It all came back to him so easily; that need to protect Henry's secret, the lies and secrets they kept. Never mind all of that though; he was just going to go for it. It was early and nearly deserted and people had certainly said stranger things on these streets.

"Dad! Dad!" he shouted. The name had been so long neglected, something that had been all too foreign to Abe but it felt good to say it now.

He watched as Henry's head popped up in surprise. He halted and turned around. Abe stopped running and slumped over a little relieved when he saw the look of recognition pass over Henry's face. Henry didn't hesitate; he came back running to Abe. Abe was unprepared for what that did to him. To have Henry come when he called for him, stirred up years of memories and emotions, almost transporting him back to a younger time. It had been so long since Abe had called out for Henry and Henry had come running back to him dropping everything to see what it was his son needed.

"What is it Abraham?" Henry asked when he got back to where Abe was standing on the sidewalk. Henry looked like he wanted to reach out to Abe but he hesitated. Abe could tell that Henry had been distraught and upset from their previous conversation. But the distress he'd been feeling just moments ago had been pushed to the side. Abe could barely see the traces of it as it was replaced with something else. Henry looked at him with such concern, his attention completely focused on Abe. It was then that Abe saw a man he hadn't seen in so many years: his father. And it wasn't just the man who had been physically missing for decades. No, this was someone that Abe hadn't seen since before Mom left. This wasn't just Henry, a man who had been abandoned by his wife and thought of nothing else besides it. This was his dad, a man who cared about him, who was focused on him, who loved him.

Abe was frustrated that the tears blurred his vision. He didn't want to get emotional but he couldn't help it. He had missed Henry so much and he was powerless to stop his heart from reacting at finally having him back.

"Don't leave," Abe begged. "Please don't leave." He blinked and the tears spilled over. He looked down and Henry finally reached out for him. Abe finally let himself be held. "I don't want you to go away again."

"Never Abraham. Never ever again," Henry soothed quietly. He rubbed Abe's back with one hand and held Abe's head against his shoulder with the other. "I promise you I never will."

It didn't matter anymore, everything that had passed between them in the past thirty years. It didn't matter that Abe was a grown man or that his father was impossible. The only thing that mattered was that he was Henry's son and he always would be. He wasn't going to throw that away.

"I love you Abraham," Henry whispered.

It felt so good to hear it. For someone who had an immortal father, losing his dad was something Abe thought he would never have to experience. He'd been foolish to think that just because Henry couldn't die that meant he would never lose him. That's exactly what it had felt like. Ever since he's lost Mom, he's also lost his dad. He had lost him for a time and he thought he would never get him back. But they'd been given a second chance. He had long given up hoping for it anymore, but Henry meant what he said; he really did want to change. Abe could feel he already had.

Though everything in Abe wanted to reject Henry, to never believe him or trust him again for all he'd done, he couldn't.

"I love you too Dad."

Of all that had changed, this was the one thing that hadn't. Maybe it was the one thing that couldn't. Abe wasn't sure how they were going to do this. He knew there were going to be growing pains and that wound would be opened up time and time again. He had no illusions that it would be easy for them. Life with Henry had never been that, even before all of this. This was only the beginning for them to find themselves back into each other's lives. But Abe knew this was the right thing and he knew it would be worth the effort. He knew he wanted this, this second chance, their last chance.