EVERYTHING HAS YOUR MEMORY
"Sunday rain, Texas plates, silver cross on a chain, cloud of dust leaving me - everything has your memory."
inspired by: Everything Has Your Memory | Wade Bowen
fandom: Abigail (2024)
characters: Ana Lucia Cruz (Joey), Caleb Cruz, Kristof Lazar, & Abigail Lazar
dedicated to my abigail: @evildarliing
It was relentless. She was relentless. Just like that night.
The night Joey left her in the shadow, the clutches, the reign of Kristof Lazar—covered in blood with eyes so blue they overpowered such a majestic vibrancy that complimented vampires so well. But not her.
That she-devil who was as quick as a pistol, as smart as a whip, and was perhaps the cruelest, most vile little girl that had ever lived. But every devil was once an angel, weren’t they?
This was a question Joey had been contemplating for weeks. Ever since she left the mansion, ever since she walked away, ever since she traded one name for the other, anyone would think her reset—her second chance—would’ve been the only road to go down. She’d gotten Caleb back, she’d stayed clean, and she’d started a new life. Everything was different. Or at least… it was supposed to be. There was one thing she couldn’t let go of.
Abigail was literally haunting her. She was everywhere and in everything. Even with Caleb back in her life, blue eyes and soft caramel hair always managed to get between her and him. This wasn’t to mistake that she couldn’t love him like she wanted, because she did. But there was an empty space that she was struggling to fill. An vacant void that left her feeling cold and guilty, like she’d felt after shooting up morphine in the field. It kept her up at night and disrupted her in her sleep. It woke her up in the morning and left her always looking over her shoulder during the day. And every time she’d look, her heart stopped.
Abigail was in every crowd, slipping in and out of view among walking people. She was perched on every balcony, surveying the freedom she’ll never have. She was by Caleb’s side every morning when his mother would send him off to school and every night when she’d kiss him goodnight. She was in every mirror and in every window reflection, just staring at her with that same small smile that she’d given when she’d said,
That same sad smile that Joey wasn’t able to shake. Fuck, she wasn’t even able to shake her code name. Joey had grown on her, and had definitely given her some definition between the life she’d had before meeting Abigail and the life she’d made after. If anything, she’d choose to refer to herself as Joey rather than Ana Lucia Cruz. But above everything, that was because all she could hear when she thought of her name or when someone said it was Abigail’s voice and the way her name came off her venomous tongue—how it had destroyed her.
How she had destroyed her…
And to this day, it was so painful. Not the embarrassing or guilty kind, it was the regretful kind—the inability to console the side of her that knew something was missing.
Caleb would wave to her. “See you later, Mom!”
Abigail would echo in her ear. “See you around, Joey.”
Caleb would hug her. “I love you, Mama.”
Abigail would remind her. “You promised, Joey.”
She’d relive Frank dropping her from 3 stories high in dreams only to shoot up in the dark solitude of her room, never reaching the ground, but instead, missing being caught by Abigail.
That nightmare haunted her like the mansion Abigail stalked. Her panting reminded her of the adrenaline that fueled her for hours during the race. Her loneliness reminded her of her inexhaustible will to survive out of the 6 criminals they started out as. And her inability to fall asleep cursed her with the memory of that bloodied pinky that was held out to her in the desperate hold of a promise that was slipping through a lattice of selfishness.
But promises weren’t intended to come and go within a time-frame—they weren’t intended to be made one night and then gone the next. They weren’t supposed to be something you willed to keep temporary peace or a fake truth in the belly of the beast.
A promise was a promise. It was meant to be set on forever—a symbol of trust and bond. And as a mother, Joey knew better than to mistake the meaning of one for something else. Because paying the price for doing so was Hell.
Everywhere she went, she saw Abigail’s face. Even if there was nowhere to make out a face, she was in Joey’s head. It wouldn’t leave her alone. She wouldn’t leave her alone.
And the worst part was that she was only a drive away.
It was around 11:00 at night when Joey locked up the front door and hit a dirt road in an old Chevrolet. She’d promised Caleb she’d be home before dawn. She trusted him enough to leave him alone overnight, and he trusted her enough to be okay with it. It wasn’t the first time he’d been left alone after all, and while that made her feel even more guilty, she knew for a fact she’d be back.
She just needed to see her. That was the only solution that seemed to haunt her more than Abigail’s memory.
The same forest. The same night sky. The same anticipation. The same racing mind.
It was Deja Vu. And that was what kept her from turning back.
In front of the mansion she once walked out of with no intentions of ever returning, she forced the gear stick in park. Her heart hadn’t stopped pounding since she left her house, and now, it seemed to double. But on the outside, she remained composed. She got out, slammed the door, and locked it behind her as she stalked towards the door, where everything began…
Joey didn’t even bother to knock, testing the locks first and foremost, which was wise in not wanting to be caught by the wrong vampire. Kristof Lazar wouldn’t dare leave a front door locked to keep out any lost toy that might wander into the wrong shelter. She held her breath in the shadows, seeming to relive that night alongside the rest of the former Rat Pack’s presence. Maybe they were still here, haunting an already-haunted mansion.
Nothing had changed since she’d been there, with the exception of all the bloodshed that had been cleaned up. Possibly licked up…
She shuddered at that thought and continued into the library. Abigail had recalled quote-unquote painful memories having taken place there. One of the most painful was probably when her own father turned her into a bloodlusting killer. Joey could now say the same about that room carrying a lot of pain, trauma, and hate.
“I never thought you’d dare return here… Ana Lucia Cruz…”
The cold, heartless voice of Kristof Lazar sounded behind her, sending her fight-or-flight into motion. She forced it down. She wasn’t going to run, no matter how bad she wanted to. She couldn’t explain it, but he put the fear of God in her. That was something that she wasn’t able to shake alongside his daughter.
But Abigail was more important than he was. She knew that more than anything.
Joey turned around to meet glowing eyes and a venomous smirk, just like the first night. “Where is she?” she asked coldly. “I need to see her.”
Lazar tilted his head ever-so-slightly. “What for?”
A deep growl rumbled in his throat as he moved closer to her in one fluid motion. His hand moved to hold her jaw, forcing her to look up at him. He felt her muscles immediately tense up, hard enough to know she was clenching her teeth, all while her black eyes bore into him with a mixture of rage, caution, and defiance. “Hmmm…”
It took everything in her being not to yank away from his touch, for picking and choosing her battles were extremely imperative while in this man’s realm.
Lazar bowed at the interest in the sound of her pounding heartbeat. He could smell the blood pumping rapidly, healthily, heartily through her, which also became visible in the light flush of her complexion. “Bold of you to come at night alone,” he mused. “Oh, yes… so very bold, you are.” Then he lowered himself to hiss into her ear, “But also very stupid.”
Joey didn’t think as she pulled away from Lazar and whipped around to the voice she’d only heard in her head for weeks. It was like second-nature, an involuntary response to a stimulus that was impossible to ignore.
The soft caramel hair, the blue eyes, the fair skin, and most elegant disposition. Where it all began hadn’t changed. And who it all began with hadn’t changed either. If anything, Abigail looked more alive than she’d been beforehand.
For a moment, Joey was speechless as Abigail came off the last step to meet level ground.
So, the girl’s father spoke for her. “She desires to see you, Abigail,” he spoke.
The young vampire never took her eyes away from the newcomer. She almost looked relieved, like she’d anticipated false hope, just to be ironically mistaken. And she smiled. It was small and subtle, but Joey could see it. Then, she raised her face to acknowledge her father. “Can we be alone?”
Objection to this request was expected, but it took the only human by surprise when Lazar’s footsteps started to distance from her.
“Very well,” he granted and disappeared into the shadows of another room.
There was a small silence that strayed between the two left alone. There was a heavy tension of words unsaid and words wanting to be said. It hadn’t been very long, especially to a vampire, but it wasn’t exaggerated when they both silently deemed their separation to be a lifetime.
Joey was caught up in a million words, thoughts, and feelings, wanting to ask a million things and apologize for a thousand reasons. They both weren’t what the average person would call an angel. They were devils, demons, monsters, and entirely tragic mysteries. But maybe there was something beautiful in that. “I—”
She hadn’t even noticed that Abigail had moved, but she wasn’t able to get anything out before she felt arms wrap around her, followed by a head on her chest. It silenced her, even though she didn’t know what to say in the first place.
The girl’s embrace was tight, like she’d harbored so much pent up love that was only real for the woman before her. And it was the first time in centuries that she could let it free. “I missed you,” was the only thing she said.
Even though her voice was just above a whisper, there was such a strong sense of warmth that came with those words. It seemed to fill the cold void that had followed Joey around for weeks, like she wasn’t being hugged by a vampire, but a normal 12-year-old girl. The vampire made it sincere.
Joey held her close. Maybe it wasn’t strictly guilt that haunted her. Maybe it wasn’t fear. Maybe it wasn’t what-could-bes and what-could’ve-beens. Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing. Maybe it was simple, just like Abigail had said.
Maybe she just felt the same way.
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i don't like the way this came out.. i feel like i could've done so much better and drug it out more, but then i know that i wouldn't have been able to stop. it would've gone on for a while..
i'm sorry @evildarliing that i couldn't do something better for you 🩶
