Note: This story is for the "Let Me In" version of the movie and will be moved there once a spot for "Let Me In" is added.
Twenty-seven years had come and gone already - years that had passed like weeks…
It was hard to believe, difficult to imagine, but it was still true and she had warned him about this.
Nearly thirty years ago, he had asked her about him – the old man she had arrived with, the one who had posed as her father, the one who had gone into the night – night after night – to hunt and to kill for her.
"How could you live with such an old man?" Owen had asked. "When you will always be young and beautiful?"
Abby had smiled, with a sadness he hadn't then understood, and she answered him.
"You forget that I am over two hundred years old and that Håkan was, and shall always be, young to me.
Owen had read somewhere that vampires cannot cry but that night had proved otherwise, for he had seen the tears in her eyes.
She had loved Håkan and the other men before him, as she was loving Owen now.
And Håkan, like the others, must have loved her too. Back in those early years, Owen could not imagine the kind of love that would drive a man to burn away his own face with acid, to sacrifice himself to shield the one he loved. But, after nearly three decades with her, Owen knew…
It was impossible to say who walked the harder road – for Abby to love a man who would inevitably grow old and die, or for that man to give his short life to one that would always remain a young girl.
But then again, as she had often reminded him, she had been twelve for a long, long time…
So far, things had gone well for Owen and for Abby – much better than they had for poor Håkan and, from what little she had told him, the others as well.
That bus ride had brought him back to his father's ranch – the one his father had loved and couldn't leave, the one his mother had hated and wouldn't accept.
The ranch itself was a big property with plenty of hiding places and he had found her a home in what had been a root cellar years before. As far as Owen knew, his father never did find out although there were occasional things that Abby had said that made him wonder. But his father had been dead for nearly two years now, and the ranch and all its secrets were safely in Owen's hands alone.
Although she hated the taste and blandness of the stuff, for Owen's sake Abby had willed herself to live on animal blood alone. Since the ranch raised cattle, and plenty of them, there had been no further need for human prey, and she could be safe in a way she had never been before…
Abby lay sleeping beside him and Owen reached out to stroke her cheek.
She awoke and smiled at the human she loved. "What are you thinking about?" she whispered.
Owen laughed, a quiet yet melancholy chuckle.
"Nothing much," he said. "It's just that the mirror is telling me that I'm starting to grow old."
Abby's smile sweetened, eyes first.
"But I'm already old, and you're only thirty eight - we have years before us yet."
She paused. "And the mirror tells me nothing at all…"