A/N: Welcome to the epilogue. I hope this makes up for the sadness I put you through in the last chapter. Most of you were supportive and I thank you. So, a huge thank you to: Makrciana, ihaveacoolname, PrincessKanako, the joker lover, 88dragon06, tonidepp16, nuckythompson, catnaps, dionne dance, CandiLand95, Jay D. Moore, ForeverACharmedOne, Labyfan23, XantheXV, just a reader, Leyshla Gisel, CharlieCats, smilin steph, Obsessive Compulsive Fangirl, TinkerbellxO, Balder Rask, Frenzy In Delirium, runs with myths, xDarkxShadowsx, Destiny Xavier and IgnitingFireworks.
Review replies to the unsigned reviewers:
Just A reader: Well, thank you for softening the blow by telling me I am a good author. It's your choice not to like sad endings or any kind of endings but if you had waited or really gotten my hints through the chapters you would have realized that the ending is not really tragic. Also, I do not make sad endings all the time. If you had read my other stories, you would have known that. Vampire stories are mostly tragic; even if moviemakers these days decide to make them into comedies. (Dionnedance, I stole this line from you. Sorry). I was not going to turn this into something cliché so I preferred to kill off my favorite character ever in order to take it into a different direction. Thank you for taking the time to read this though. And sorry if I have lost you as a reader. That's your choice to make, not mine. I write the stories I want. Whether you enjoy them or not is up to you. I hope you enjoy the epilogue nonetheless if you decide to read it. :D
The joker lover: Hello and thank you for reading. What is the definition of a happy ending? To me endings have to be emotional. To break through the reader because they are the most important part of the stories. So, I don't think this ending is sad. I hope you think the same. As for Age of Innocence; I will write the story as I had planned it. If the ending satisfies the readers or not is up to them. Happy endings are not always the best endings. Hope you enjoy the last chapter, dear! :D
Sorry for the long a/n but I could not reply to my guest reviewers differently.
Now on with the epilogue! ;o)
Epilogue
Three years later, Boston
Her shoes clicked hollowly as she walked down the corridor that led to her office. In her hands, she held a large bouquet of flowers; red roses to be exact. Her fingers curled tightly around the vase as she pushed the door open with her hip. As she walked in, she inhaled deeply. The scent of her latest painting was still heady in the air since it was still fresh and the colors were not dry yet.
With a small sigh, she placed the vase on her desk and then leaned against it. Her hand reflexively went to the necklace on her neck, the platinum heavy and cold on her skin; just like he had been. At soon as she touched it, her eyes glazed over and her fingers tightened almost painfully around the jewel. Her hand trembled slightly around it and then she squeezed her eyes shut. She took a deep breath and remained like that, trying to push the memories of that night out of her mind. When she had left that night she had thought that she had not been wearing the necklace. She hadn't put it on. Only when she was in her small room at the local inn did she realize that she was wearing it and that he must have put it on her while she had been asleep next to him. Her fingers traced the design and she took a deep calming breath.
A sharp knock on the door startled her so much that she gasped. She turned quickly around and stared at the door with wide eyes.
Stop it. They are gone. All of them. She is gone…And he…He is gone as well.
Shaking her head, she inhaled deeply and then straightened.
"Yes?"
The door opened and Tanya, her assistant, walked in.
"Hey, Abby. The cleaning's done. Should I open the doors now? There is that guy who wanted to buy the mansion painting due to come today." She said while flicking her black hair over her shoulder.
"Um," Abigail rubbed her forehead, "Yeah, sure. But I already told him that it's not for sale." She muttered with pursed lips.
Tanya shrugged, "He was insistent…But we might convince him to buy something else if you wish to keep that one so badly." Tanya winked and Abigail chuckled.
"Yes, of course." She nodded and Tanya beamed.
"Great." With that she shut the door and left her on her own.
Abigail gently shook her head and walked around her desk. Leaning down, she shut down her computer and grabbed her cell phone and wallet from her purse. Leaving her jacket behind, she walked out of the door and headed for the back door.
The coffee house was just across the street and as she went out, the morning chill made her shudder. It also made her feel alive though so she welcomed it with a small smile. As she entered the coffee house, she brushed her hand over her knee length dress, smoothing it out. The barista smiled at her and he started preparing her coffee without asking her. He already knew what she liked.
When she had paid, she headed back to the gallery with her coffee in hand. Walking through the main entrance she paused and looked around. A few people where inside and Tanya was already talking with a tall, black haired man. Turning towards the other direction, she took a sip from her coffee and headed towards the east side of the gallery where her sketches where. No one was usually there and she liked looking at them, trying to figure out what she had thought and how had she felt while creating them.
As she entered, she paused. A man was standing with his back to her, staring at one of the sketches. His blond head was tilted slightly to the side and he did not seem like he had heard her coming in.
As she approached and looked at his profile, she frowned.
"Excuse me, sir. There is no smoking allowed in here." She said gently as she stepped even closer and saw the cigarette between his fingers. His thumb was brushing over his lower lip as he stared at the frame.
At her voice he startled and turned around to look at her. Abigail froze when she saw his face. Her breathing hitched and her eyes widened.
"I am so sorry. Force of habit." He chuckled as he gazed at his cigarette with regret and quickly looked around for a place to dispose of it. Abigail stared still at him and he finally noticed. The smile slowly fell from his face and he cleared his throat.
"Miss?"
Abigail blinked and quickly offered him the lid of her coffee cup for the cigarette, her hand trembling.
He took it out inside the lid and smiled, "Thanks."
Abigail watched as he threw it in the nearest garbage bin and she took the opportunity to study him. He wore dark pants, a grey turtleneck and a thick coat. His sunglasses were tucked into his coat pocket and his pack of tobacco was peeking through the back pocket of his pants. But beside all that; she knew him. Or rather, she had dreamed of him. A lot of times.
When he turned around to face her, her gaze went back to his face. Her breath hitched even more, her heart constricting inside her ribcage.
It couldn't be…It cannot be him. She thought while he smiled nervously at her.
"Are you alright? Is it the cold?" he frowned and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Excuse me?" She blinked out of her daze, but she found Barnabas' eyes looking back at her, a hint of amusement in their dark orbs.
No, not Barnabas' eyes. The stranger's eyes. Ben's eyes. She quickly corrected herself.
"The cold. I hate the cold." He pulled his hand away from his neck and gazed at her steadily.
"I used to hate it too." She sputtered and his lips broke into another familiar smile.
"What changed your mind?" he asked as his eyes quickly flickered to the cup of coffee in her hand and then to her dress. His eyes finally settled back on her face and they locked with hers. He gazed at her with deep intensity. It made her fidget for it was so familiar, but so impossible.
She shivered, "Um, the circumstances." She smiled a bit and turned to look at the sketch he had been looking at. She froze.
The man followed her gaze and he pursed his perfectly shaped lips.
"This one is peculiar." He said in a murmur and Abigail looked at him. The resemblance made her knees buckle. Even his voice was the same…Only a bit deeper.
"Why do you say that, -…?" She stopped before she could make a fool out of herself. It was impossible to think that he was him.
The stranger turned towards her, his eyes roaming her face before he outstretched his hand.
"It's Ben. Ben Callahan. " He said with a smile and Abigail slowly took his hand in hers and shook it gently. His hand was soft and smooth and warm. It was almost impossible not to collapse in front of his feet, but somehow she managed it.
She pulled her hand away and swallowed, "Um, Abigail."
He grinned, "Nice to meet you. So, back to the sketch." He turned to the framed drawing, "I find it peculiar because it is remarkable, of course, but also because it…" he laughed incredulously, "He looks like me." At that he turned to her and narrowed his eyes in deep speculation, "I am sorry, have I met you before? You…" he took a deep breath and shook his head, "You seem familiar." He finished quietly and Abigail licked her dry lips, slightly confused by his disconnected thoughts.
"I don't think so." She whispered and he frowned, the familiar furrow on his brow.
"Is there a chance for me to meet with the artist?" he asked, changing the subject, and she gulped.
"I …don't think so." she whispered as she took a step back, "Excuse me." She muttered before she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving him confused.
As she walked into the lobby of the gallery, she took a deep breath and placed her coffee on the desk. She leaned against it, trying to regulate her breathing, but the image of the man would not leave her mind.
"Abigail? Mr. Miles is here. Again." Tanya spoke up from behind her and Abigail slowly turned around to face the middle aged man.
"Mr. Miles." She nodded her head and he inclined his own in return.
"Before you say anything, just look at this." The man told her as he outstretched his hand and showed her a check.
She inhaled sharply, "Mr. Miles, I am sorry, but the Collinwood painting is not for sale."
"Won't you at least consider it?" he asked her in his formal, businesslike pleading voice.
She pinched the tip of her nose and looked up at him, "No. I simply do not wish to sell it. Why is it so important to you?" she asked and she saw that the man from before, Ben, the one who had been haunting her dreams, walked behind Miles, a small frown on his face. Between his fingers was resting a new cigarette.
She almost smiled. Almost.
"I am a collector, Ms. Aston. That painting is the last surviving evidence that the mansion ever existed after it was destroyed by the fire. It is a painting that miraculously appeared in the gardens while the fire was still burning the estate. As if someone had thrown it there. And you claim that you did not save it." Mr. Miles said as his eyes shone with thrill and greed.
Abigail tensed and took a deep breath, "I am sorry, but like I've repeatedly said before it is not for sale. That's my final word." She handed him the check back and Tanya who was standing in the background shook her head and threw her arms up in the air.
Miles didn't take back the check. He simply stepped back, "Keep it. Staring at it might make you change your mind." He smirked before he turned and walked away.
Abigail gazed at the check and the obscene number of zeroes made her gasp.
"Jesus." She laughed as she looked up.
Ben was still there, even closer than before. He took a few steps towards her and plucked the check from her hand. She shivered when his fingers brushed hers.
He smirked, "Wow, that painting must really have a hold on you. This is a crazy number." He handed her the check back and smiled before he lit up his smoke and leaned against the desk.
"It does." She snatched the cigarette from between his lips and placed it in the ashtray, "No smoking, sir." She muttered and he grinned.
"You didn't mention that you are the artist." he noted and she flushed, "Why is that? Oh, right. Because then you'd have to answer my question."
She looked up at him and his face made her stagger for a moment. It was like someone was playing a cruel joke on her. What were the odds of someone looking exactly like Barnabas? What were the odds that the man from her dreams was standing right there in front of her?
"I used to know someone…" she trailed off and he nodded his head.
"Someone who looked like me? I thought that you've been stalking me there for a moment…" he laughed and ran a hand through his short hair.
"No." She shook her head, "This was done like… four years ago and I didn't live here then." She murmured as she ripped the check and scrunched it up in a ball.
When she looked up she found him watching her. Her breath left her like three years ago. She was at a loss.
"That coffee must have turned cold." He motioned towards her cup, "How about I buy you another?" He cocked his head to the side and grabbed his sunglasses from his coat pocket.
Abigail stared, "Um…Okay. But I only have an hour." She said quietly and he grinned.
"I can work with an hour." He chuckled and she grabbed her coat before she followed him out of the gallery with small hesitant footsteps.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Abigail wrung her hands as Ben placed the cup of coffee in front of her and then sat down next to her.
"Thanks." She whispered as she hugged the cup with her hands, trying to warm them and at the same time trying to stop them from shaking.
"So, Abigail." He smiled as he shrugged out of his coat and looked at her, "I take it your last name is Aston?" He cocked his head to the side and smiled at her playfully.
It caused her to relax, "It is…How come you were at the gallery so early in the morning?" she asked and he rubbed the back of his head.
"Well, art is inspiring to me." He replied cryptically and she narrowed her eyes in deep thought.
"Why? What do you do?" she asked and he smiled before he shook his head.
"I knew my name wouldn't ring a bell." He chuckled and she frowned, "I'm a writer." He muttered and she paused.
"Oh. Wow. That must be awesome." She smiled and he winced.
"Not so awesome since you do not recognize my name." he laughed and she flushed in return.
"Sorry…I haven't read a lot the last four years." She murmured and he frowned.
"Any particular reason for it?" he asked quietly, curiously.
She looked up, "Um…I did not have the chance…And I stray from anything remotely romantic lately." She said and he smirked.
"Good thing I haven't written anything remotely romantic then." He laughed.
She shifted in her seat, "What do you write?"
He paused and actually flushed a bit, "Well, children's books. Mainly." He replied and she gaped at him, "So, if you don't have a child you wouldn't know me…Actually, I am not even sure if parents look at the author's name when buying a children's book." He shook his head and smiled.
"Was that a trap for me? To find out if I have a child or not?" She narrowed her eyes and he grinned before he shrugged one shoulder.
"You caught me." He replied and she couldn't help but chuckle.
"I guess I did. No, I do not have a child." She shook her head.
He locked eyes with her and pointed at her, "Shame. I think it'd suit you." He murmured and she flushed.
"Well for that you need a willing participant." She joked and he laughed.
"I am guessing there have been many. Maybe you're just picky." He winked and took a sip from his drink.
"Or just unlucky." She replied and he paused.
"So, why do you detest romance?" he asked her and she looked at her untouched coffee.
"You're being a bit curious." She replied as she raised her eyes to his.
"Does it border on rude or annoying?" He joked as he leaned forward and regarded her keenly.
She took a deep breath, "Just painful." She smiled a bit and he frowned.
"Oh." He murmured as he rubbed his top lip in thought.
"I just…um, lost someone very important to me…Three years ago." She replied and he winced.
"I see. I am sorry. I guess that year was not very lucky for most of us." He chuckled and she looked at him curiously.
"Why do you say that?" she asked and he stared at her for a moment.
When he opened his mouth to reply his phone rang, cutting him off.
"Ah, I am sorry. That's my boss." He grimaced and she had to laugh.
"I thought you were a writer,"
He smiled, "I am. But at the moment I am working as an editor at a publishing house." He replied as he put his lighter into his pocket and started sitting up.
"So, um, miss Aston." He put on his coat, "Since we have been severely cut off," he smirked when she chuckled, "How about we continue this another time?" He cocked his head to the side before he grabbed a napkin and a pen from his pocket. He wrote something on it and then pushed it towards her.
Abigail picked it up and then looked up at him, "I don't usually call strangers." She smiled a bit and he grinned.
"Well, maybe you'll make a exception for a struggling fellow artist." He winked and then stepped back, "Hmm?"
With a last look at her, he turned and walked out of the coffee shop.
Abigail stared after him until he was gone and then her eyes fell on his forgotten cup.
With a shaky hand she reached out and pulled it towards her.
She chuckled and shook her head at the improbability of it all. He had ordered a tea not coffee.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Days later…
The line was long, but she waited patiently. She had nothing better to do anyway that morning. She raised her hand and pushed back the sleeve of her coat in order to gaze at her watch.
"It is rude to leave a gentleman waiting for your call for ten days." A smooth, familiar voice murmured into her ear and every hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She closed her eyes briefly and then turned her head slightly to look at him.
"Hi." He smiled and she couldn't help but smile back.
"You scared me."
"Did I? You don't seem scared…Your eyes are too wise and mature to show that kind of emotion. I wonder what you have seen." he murmured and when she stiffened he smiled, "I am sorry. You just look embarrassed."
She swallowed hard, "I guess I am. You caught me." She said and then she raised her hand that held a bag.
He frowned and reached inside at her invitation. He pulled out the book and then started laughing.
"Okay." He chuckled as he looked up from his book and smiled at her, "It's that what you've been doing all these days? Reading my childish books? Now, I am the one who is embarrassed." He said and she plucked the book from his hand.
"Good." she said as she put it back in the bag, "So, I think it's my turn to buy you a drink." She smiled softly and he quirked an eyebrow, "Make amends for not calling you and all." she said and she stepped forward as the line moved, "Earl Grey?" she quipped and he flushed before he burst into laughter.
"Sure." He nodded his head and slipped his hands deep into the pockets of his thick coat. While they waited to get their drinks, he did not take his eyes off of her.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
"Come on! You've never had cotton candy? That's a crime." Ben laughed as he plucked some from hers and slipped it in his mouth.
Abigail shook her head at him and took a bite of her own. The candy melted on her tongue and she sighed.
"Surprisingly enough, I am learning lots of things with you." She chuckled and he turned his eyes on her, his gaze deep and intense.
"Really?"
She smiled but then her eye caught something. She stopped walking and grabbed his arm. He startled and looked at her hand. His eyes softened and a glimmer of a strange emotion passed over his gaze.
"What's that?" she asked as she reached up and touched a spot near his temple.
He stiffened and winced at her touch.
"I am sorry! Did I hurt you?' she exclaimed guiltily and he shook his head before he grasped her hand in his.
Abigail staggered at his touch.
"No. The scar itches sometimes…" he murmured as he fingered the scar that was almost hidden by his hairline.
"How did you get it?" she asked and he pursed his lips before he bit his lip.
"I was in a car accident…Three years ago." He replied and she froze.
"Three years ago?" she whispered and he nodded.
"Um," he nervously rubbed his forehead, "Yeah. I was in a coma…for like three months." He said and she felt her heart dropping to her stomach.
"I am so sorry. Were you alone?" she whispered and he looked up.
"Um, yeah. I survived, but the guy who ran into me wasn't so lucky." He shrugged, "I am just glad that I woke up." He said as he continued walking.
Numbly, she followed him, cotton candy forgotten.
"Since then I've suffered from mild amnesia. I don't recall a lot of things from that night or my life before. So…" he trailed off as he looked up into her eyes, "Did I freak you out just now?" he laughed nervously and she shook her head quickly, breaking out from her daze.
"No. No. I am just shocked. How did your family handle it?" she asked quietly as she slipped her hand in his. His fingers tightened around hers securely.
"My mother died while I was in the coma. She couldn't take it I guess." he murmured and then groaned, "Jesus, I don't talk about this and for a reason." He turned and looked at her, "I am sorry. I don't like to bring it up because then everyone starts acting weird around me." He muttered.
"Ben, when was your accident?" she asked and he turned to look at her.
"Ah, 2001…December 15th." He replied and her eyes widened while her breath hitched.
That date. That date was the night Barnabas died.
"Abby?" Ben shook her hand gently and she blinked.
"Yes?"
"Are you alright? I am sorry. I freaked you out. Let's just forget it, okay?" he murmured softly, a pleading tone in his voice.
"You did not freak me out. It's only fair. I told you…I told you what has happened to me so… Please, don't worry about it." She replied with a shake of her head and he seemed relieved.
"Are you sure?" he asked and she nodded.
"Hmm. So, I have leftover lasagna back home. A whole pan…They're just looking for someone to eat them. Want to come and help me accomplish the task?" she smiled and he chuckled deeply.
"Do you cook well?" he asked dubiously and she smiled.
"Beggars can't be choosers so, come on." She rolled her eyes before she pulled him forward.
He laughed and it sounded like a relieved sigh.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
"Is that me?" Ben asked as he munched on a piece of lettuce and Abigail froze.
"Um…"
"Okay," he laughed and raised his hands up in surrender, "I was probably not supposed to see that." He pointed at the sketch on her couch.
"No, it's alright. It's been a long time since I made one…Sketch that is." She murmured as she put the salad on the table and came to stand next to him.
He turned towards her and leaned down. His nose skimmed up her cheek as he inhaled deeply.
"So, when are you going to tell me that your boyfriend looked like me?" he asked her and she froze.
Slowly, she turned and locked eyes with him, "Um…"
"I know you never said it, but it's obvious from the way you stare at me sometimes. That and various pictures you have of him around the house." He whispered and she took a deep breath.
"That's not the reason I am around you." She said quickly and it was sincere.
He grinned, "Little relieved I've got to say." He whispered as he exhaled slowly.
She flushed, "I am sorry if I gave you that impression." she whispered back earnestly, "It is actually quite…hard for me to look at you sometimes." She admitted and he gazed at her in silence for a minute before he turned his body so that he was facing her.
His hand reached up and he traced her cheek with the back of his fingers before he leaned his forehead against hers.
"So, how many more months are there going to pass before I am allowed to kiss you?" he asked and she stilled.
"You want to…kiss me." She stated with mild disbelief and he laughed huskily.
"Hmm. Maybe that will distract me enough in order not to ask you about the bite mark on you palm." He murmured with a small frown as he grasped her hand and traced her palm with his fingertips.
Abigail blinked rapidly as his familiar lips got closer and closer to her trembling mouth. The bite mark; the bite mark Barnabas had not healed because he had believed he'd need to drink from her again.
"Never?" she whispered and he furrowed his brow as his eyes gazed away from her lips and into her eyes.
"Hmm?"
"You won't ask me ever?" she asked and he paused, biting his lower lip as he thought it over.
He took a step closer and that caused their bodies to touch.
He took a deep breath and shook his head, "Did it hurt you? Whatever did this." He asked and his eyes held such intensity that she almost staggered from the force of it. The last person who had looked at her with such worry was nothing but ashes by then.
"No, never." She murmured and he let out a shuddery warm breath before he nodded.
"I won't ever ask." He breathed and it was as if a huge weight had been lifted off of her chest. Some things were better if they were buried deep into someone's soul anyway. Sometimes it was better for someone to know half the truth.
"Okay." She murmured with a small smile and it was like his entire body froze.
"Okay? You won't run screaming?" he asked and she placed her hands on his waist.
"You're not that ugly. Or scary." She whispered and he grinned, his smile so different and yet at the same time an original replica of the grin of the pale, cold-skinned man she had lost three and a half years ago.
"That's a relief." He murmured against her lips before he pressed his mouth against hers.
She exhaled through her nose at the first touch of his mouth and when he parted her lips with his tongue she felt her knees giving out from under her.
His arms were there to hold her to him and when he enveloped her in them it was like coming home.
As they embraced tightly, a cold breeze blew through the open window of her apartment and if one listened carefully they'd hear the ethereal, relieved sigh of a man that was no longer visible, but still there, watching over the lives of two humans that were meant to be.
The End.
Author's note: Still here? Good. Thank you for reading. This was the end of this story and don't tell me it was sad! It was at least hopeful, right?
A huge thank you to all the readers and reviewers who have supported me through this. You are all gems! I hope I will continue hearing from you in my other DS story and not only.
Until the next time!
Xxx Lina :)