Title: In Loving Memory
Rating: General-ish
Fandom: Ikemen Vampire
Characters: Theodorus van Gogh, Abigail Clarke (OC)
Summary: Theo helps an aged Abby work on a portrait she’s making.
Notes: Original Character; Bittersweet Fluff; implied/referenced character death; not explicitly noted but this take place long after Vincent’s endings in canon; references to another fic I’ve written with Theo and Abby (I’ve Waited For This) ; Originally the ‘Old’ prompt from my 100 Themes Challenge now brought to completion. And thanks again to @dodomindraws who did the lineart for the banner!
WC: 945
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Theo sat by Abby's side, the pair looking at a medium-sized canvas. Abby, older now with her short hair almost completely white, held a long paintbrush towards the canvas in her small, wrinkled hands that were dotted with age spots. Theo, still as youthful as when Abby had first met him with his reddish-brown hair and familiar blue eyes that had gentled somewhat with time, watched patiently as her hand moved, graceful in the memory but a little clumsy now with age. The younger van Gogh held a palette filled with colorful paints in his lap.
"Just a little longer," Abby said, her voice cracking.
"Take your time," Theo said gently. "No need to rush."
Silence overtook the two of them, sunlight peeking through the nearby window. Where she needed it, Theo held up her elbow, keeping her arm steady as she made her short, careful strokes.
"…Talk about him, Theo." Abby asked, squinting her eyes.
"Hondje, you sure?"
"A happy memory… for me, please?"
Theo closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh. He looked up towards the ceiling, thinking for a moment.
"Back when we used to live in le Comte's mansion, he often painted outdoors. He'd taken you with him one day. By all accounts, it should have been sunny all day. But, there was a pop up shower."
"Ah, yes." Abby's eyes lit up with the memory. "Vincent had wanted to teach me about plein air painting. But then it started raining half way through what he was teaching me."
"I was just getting back from selling his work. I got caught up in it too. Soaked to the bone. I had to run all the way to the mansion after the carriage dropped me off nearby."
"So were we. We had to pack up in a hurry!" Abby laughed.
"Clearly." said Theo. "Broer had you in his arms and you had all the supplies in your lap, trying desperately to keep the canvases from getting wet when I saw you two. You looked like a couple of idiots, running in the rain."
"I don't doubt we looked very silly. Vincent kept saying I should put his painting apron over my head so I wouldn't get wet, but I was so focused on protecting the paintings, the paint hadn't even dried properly. But, both of canvases got smeared with rain water anyway, despite our best efforts. I was so upset then because I had been so proud of my painting and thought it was ruined."
"Broer just smiled," Theo said, "and gladly told everyone and anyone they were twin paintings. It was probably the first time I’d seen him genuinely proud of something that wasn’t his own artwork."
"I remember Vincent held onto those paintings for a while. I was a little embarrassed on how long he kept them, messed up as they were."
"From what I remember, Comte had them put up in the parlor after you two had left. Even had them framed and properly sealed so they’d last longer."
"That's even more embarrassing!"
Abby lowered her elbow, setting her brush down, her smile lifting the wrinkles on her face.
"Thank you, Theo. For cheering me up. For staying and putting up with me. For everything, really."
"You'd be lonely if I didn't, and Broer hated leaving you alone for long."
"…I miss him. So much."
Theo reached up to her cheek, smearing a little bit of yellow paint on it.
"When you came around, he was happier. More than I had ever seen him, I'll admit. He shined brighter than before. Blindingly so some days. He cleared looked like a man in love whenever he was around you. I was a little jealous—okay, a lot jealous—of how this little pup once scared of her own shadow that came out of nowhere had managed to capture my Broer so completely, so quickly. It was almost unfair how quickly you changed him when I couldn't over a lifetime."
"Theo…"
Theo patted her elbow again.
"Remember when I came to the house the first time? Because your aunt had sent those pictures of his paintings?"
"Yes," Abby said, "I showed you all those pictures of Vincent and me… of the kids when they were little…"
"You showed me that he had lived a good life and that's something I can't thank you enough for. I had failed in that regard, even in our second lives. You gave him something that I couldn't without even trying."
Abby sat her paintbrush to the side, reaching up with both her hands to hold Theo's face.
"Your wish allowed us to meet, Theo, so don't sell yourself so short. My happiness was thanks to you, after all. You didn't fail in anything. You did what you could for him. We both did."
"Hondje…"
Abby cleared her throat and rubbed at her eyes, refocusing on the canvas before her and trying to pointedly ignore the matching paint smear she had put on Theo’s face.
"He wouldn't want us to be sad for long anyway. He'd be worried if we were."
"Right. And you have a portrait to finish."
Abby nodded and picked up her brush again, filling it up with some light blue paint, something that was quite close to Theo’s eye color, but not an exact match. It was a blue that was more familiar to her, the one she had known and loved the most over the years. Theo lifted her elbow once again, helping her reach the soulful eyes staring back at them, his gentle smile endearingly etched into their memories now coming back to life on the canvas once again.
I catch myself thinking about Who holds the devil when my mental stability is falling apart. Your story helps me to stay afloat.
Thank you
I'm so sorry to hear that you're struggling and, if I could, I would definitely give you a big hug. But, since that's not possible, I'm glad that I can still offer some comfort through my fic.
I've said it before, but knowing that my writing can give people hope, stability, or even just a distraction is the reason why I post. I will always write, but I choose to post it online because, just maybe, it can brighten someone's day.
And so please remember that. Even if I might not be able to update as often as I used to (due to my own health problems) I will always keep posting as long as there are people like you. As long as people enjoy what I do, I'll continue to share it.
I do it for you 💜
And while I don't have any snippets and such that I can share to maybe help you along, here's a simple sketch I just finished of Yo Han, on the subject of "You want to fuck that old man so bad it makes you look stupid."
As I said to my friends:
Benefits of drawing: If I want to know what Yo Han looks like in the black Henley outfit I gave him in Who Holds the Devil, I can draw it
Downsides of drawing: I now know what Yo Han looks like in that black Henley outfit
... and now you all do too. You're welcome.
So yeah. Hang in there, darling, and do whatever you have to do to get through the day. I'm so glad that my writing helps. And even if I don't know you — and even if it may sound cheesy — please remember that I care about you. And, if I could, I would take all the pain away.
