Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lucas stretched his long arms in the air and restrained a yawn. He rotated his chair to look at Henry, who was moping the floor of the lab.

“All done,” he said tiredly, rubbing his eyes. “Wanna re-read it?”

Henry put the mop away and glanced at the computer screen over his assistant’s shoulder. “I dictated the report. I trust you didn’t make any typographical errors.”

“I know better than make your report look any less than perfect, Henry.”

Henry nodded. The truth was, he was too tired himself to proofread the report now. “All right, send it as it is. It’ll be good enough for the investigation to move forward. Our job here is done, let’s call it a night.”

He and Lucas had been pulling extra hours to finish up the autopsy of a body that arrived late in the afternoon – a drug mule who surprisingly enough didn’t die from the foreign contents of his belly but from a bullet to the head – and they were both exhausted. They'd completed their post-mortem half an hour ago, but it was apparently a high-profile case, and Reece had required them to send their report before the end of the day. Lucas being the faster typist, they had agreed that he would log in the report while Henry would quickly clean the lab.

Collecting his jacket, Henry wished his assistant good night and headed out. The sun had set a long time ago and it was now pitch dark and rather quiet outside. Henry was fighting with the rusty lock on his bike when a van pulled over right at his level. He barely had the time to look up to see the two men wearing ski masks who jumped out of the van, one lean and tall, the other shorter, sturdy and a gun in hand. With a calm and assured hand, he pointed the weapon directly to Henry’s head.

“Get in the van,” he said, his voice low and menacing.

Henry’s heart started racing. Not fearing for his life didn’t mean he was immune to any fear. Externally though, he did his best to keep his composure. He slowly raised his hands and turned to face the man holding the gun.

“Look, gentlemen, if we could just –“

But the masked men had no time for talk. “Get in the van,” the armed one repeated.

Henry quickly thought things over. Naturally, he had an expedite way out of this situation. Jump on the gun, make them kill him, and voilà, he’d be free. Violent, but efficient. This would, however, risk exposing his secret, should the men stay long enough to see his body disappear. The best course of action for the time being was to comply to the men’s demand and get into the vehicle. Hopefully he would find a better opportunity for his disappearing act later.

With a sigh, Henry was about to step into the van when the sound of the OCME building’s door opening made him freeze. His heart missed a beat.

Lucas.

“Henry, you forgot your sca-“

Lucas’ voice died in his throat and he stopped in his tracks, his boss’ scarf floating in his outstretched hand. Henry and his two menacing goons turned around at once, surprised by the interruption. The arm of the man with the gun swung as he redirected his aim from Henry to Lucas and the young man’s eyes widened in fear. The goon’s finger twitched on the trigger and Henry didn’t hesitate, he jumped on the gun, placing his body between his assistant and the weapon.

“Lucas, run!” he shouted, just as the shot went off.

Shot point blank, Henry fell heavily to the ground.

“Henry!”

Lucas’ scream tore the night. Ignoring the danger, he raced to close the distance and fell to his knees.

Lying on his back on the sidewalk, Henry was trying to assess the damages. He attempted to take a long breath, but an excruciating pain immediately radiated from his right side. A perforated lung. He carefully brought his hands to his chest. Blood, sticky and warm, was soaking his shirt and vest. Massive blood loss. He didn’t feel any blood on his back though, so there probably was no exit wound. The bullet was still inside of him, somewhere. Judging by the pain in his ribcage, he probably had a fractured rib or two as well. This was going to be a painful agony.

“Henry,” Lucas called him softly, as he pressed the scarf to his boss’ chest, in an effort to slow the bleeding. “Henry, everything’s gonna be okay. Hang in there.”

“I know, Lucas, don’t worry about me,” Henry said between his teeth. “And stop pressing on my chest, I can fell a cracked rib ripping through my lung.”

Lucas turned pale and quickly reduced the pressure. Henry glanced at the scarf that Lucas was now more gently holding against his ribcage and which was getting soaked with his blood. It was the bicolor one – blue and burgundy – that Abe had gifted him for Christmas a couple of years ago. He was rather found of that one and felt sorry that it was now used in such a crude manner.

Above them, the two men were arguing.

“Why did you shoot him, we need him alive!”

“He’s the one who jumped on me!”

On the ground, Henry grabbed Lucas’ lapel. “Lucas, run,” he whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere, Henry.”

“Lucas, please, I’ll be fine.”

Ignoring him, Lucas pulled his phone from his shoulder bag, but the second man knocked it out of his hand.

“What do you think you’re doing,” he growled. “Get in the van.”

“He needs a doctor!” Lucas protested. “Call 911 yourself, then!”

Overcoming the dizziness and the excruciating pain in his ribs, Henry laboriously got to his feet, not without an undignified groan or two. Keeping a protective hand against his chest and leaning heavily on Lucas, he turned to face the tall man.

“Let him go,” he said, as commanding as he could manage. “It appears you are only interested in me.”

“Just get in the van, both of you,” the short man repeated menacingly, swinging his gun in their direction.

They were shoved unceremoniously into the van and the side door was slammed shut behind them. The back of the vehicle had no windows, leaving them in the dark. Feeling his way around, Henry looked for the side and back door handles, but they all appeared to be locked. He searched some more but the compartment was devoid of anything that could help them escape or fight back. They’d have to wait for a better opportunity. Resigned, he sat down on the cold and dusty floor of the vehicle, stretching his legs in front of him and leaning back against the side door. He had to spare his forces as best as he could. He put two fingers against his throat, searching for his own pulse. It was rapid, but regular, and somehow still strong enough. Whatever blood vessel the bullet had hit, it wasn’t too close to the heart. He’d still very likely die from major blood loss, but he probably could still hold on for at least a couple hours. And he had to stay alive as long as he could. Had he been alone, he would have simply let go, now that the kidnappers weren’t watching. But he couldn’t leave without Lucas. He couldn’t die just yet. In the darkness, they could barely see each other. Lucas was seating in the corner at the far back of the vehicle, his arms tightly holding his knees against his chest. Usually so talkative he was uncharacteristically silent now. The only noise was his rapid and shallow breating.

“Are you alright, Lucas?”

“Am I alright?” Lucas said in a joyless chuckle. “Henry, you’ve been shot! You’re bleeding all over and they’re not letting us call for help.”

Henry leaned over and reached for Lucas’ shaky hands. They were cold and mated by his own blood.

“It’s going to be okay, Lucas, I promise,” he said in a low voice. “Right now, I want you to focus on the road. We need to figure out where we’re going.”

A plan was beginning to form in his mind. Inevitably, Henry was going to disappear on Lucas. But that would give him the opportunity to call the cavalry. All he needed was to be able to tell them where to go.

But Lucas wasn’t listening. “Why did you do that, Henry?”

“He was about to shoot you,” Henry said simply.

“So, you decided it was better if he shot you instead?” Lucas retorted. The harshness of his voice was hardly covering his worry.

"Honestly, yes, it was better if he shot me instead. Everything’s going to be fine,” Henry repeated once again. “I’ll explain later. But for now, we just need to know where we are and then we can get you out of here.”

“Us, we need to get us out of here, Henry!”

Henry bit his lips. Between the urgency of the situation and the gunshot to the sternum, he had a hard time keeping his mind as clear as usual. “Yes, sorry,” he breathed. “We need to get us both out of here. How long have we been driving?”

“I don’t know,” Lucas said in a shaky voice.

“By my estimate, I’d say, about ten minutes,” Henry stated. He paused,listening attentively. The vehicle was shaking under a fierce wind. “Listen, it’s a strong side wind, so I presume we’re crossing a bridge.”

“We’re going out of Manhattan.”

“Right, and ten minutes from the office, that’s either the Queensboro bridge or the Williamsburg bridge. Though ten minutes to the Williamsburg bridge is a bit of a stretch. Did we go North or South?”

Lucas whined. “I don’t know…”

Henry closed his eyes and tried to remember the moments of their abduction. The van came from the South, and they didn’t make a u-turn, so they must have been heading North.

“North, we headed North, now we’re crossing the East River toward Queens.”

The wind subsided and the road they were traveling on sounded less hollow – Solid ground.

“Okay, we’re off the bridge,” Lucas said, his voice a little more assured. “Queens it is.”

The van went to a stop – probably a traffic light, and when it resumed its course, they were projected toward the right wall of the van. Lucas toppled over Henry, who groaned under the pain.

“We’re making a left, we’re going North now,” Lucas said. “Nope, East again,” he added as they made a right.

“Very good, Lucas.”

They drove for another fifteen minutes or so, both captives taking notes on each turn, and any indication of traffic. The characteristic smell of manure indicated they approached the Queens zoo. Then, they seemed to be driving slower, taking a series of turns, in an area with sparse traffic. It hadn’t been long enough for them to get out of the city, but they could be in a quiet residential area. And at this hour, there were certain areas, even in New York City, that did sleep.

To be continued...

Chapter Text

This had to be the scariest thing that Lucas had experienced in his life, and he would have been a hundred percent fine if he could’ve spent his entire existence without having the terrifying ordeal of being kidnapped at gun point. If he had to, though, part of him couldn’t help but feel reassured to have Henry by his side. If anyone could get them out of this alive, it was the ever-resourceful Dr. Henry Morgan. Poor Henry, though, who had taken a bullet for him. And yet, even with a gunshot to the chest, Henry was still calm and composed. Because unlike Lucas, the doc wasn’t one to lose his cool simply because of a little kidnapping.

“Lucas,” Henry breathed, “when they take us out of the van, try to look around you, notice anything that could give us a clue to our location. A street name, a monument, a particular house, anything.”

Lucas wasn’t completely sure why that was so important. If they managed to escape, then they’d easily figure that out. If they managed to place a call to the Police, or 911 or something, that call could easily be traced. But focusing on directions did seem to ease his growing panic, so he played along. It gave him a semblance of control over the situation. Maybe that’s all Henry was trying to achieve.

The van came to a final stop and the side door slid opened. Swinging the gun under their noses, the two masked goons made them step out of the van. Lucas offered Henry a hand and the doctor stoically stumbled to his feet and exited the vehicle. Lucas had seen enough dead bodies to know that such a gunshot wound to the chest, with the amount of blood staining Henry’s shirt, was very serious. Henry wouldn’t complain though, and on the contrary, was attempting a reassuring smile for Lucas’ benefit. Yet, his tight grip on the young man’s shoulder was betraying how much pain he really was in.

As instructed, Lucas looked around but he didn’t see anything special. It was a boring residential neighborhood, with identical brownstone houses on both sides of the street. Before he had time to pick up on anything more, he and Henry were forced into a house and down a flight of stairs into a small basement. Losing his balance, Henry fell to his knees next to Lucas. His breathing had become dangerously laborious and erratic.

“He needs a doctor,” Lucas pleaded once again.

“We’ll find you one in the morning,” the tall guy grumbled. “Just try and keep yourself alive till then.”

For a brief moment, Lucas caught a hint of worry crossing the eyes of his kidnapper as he glanced at Henry on the ground, but he shrugged it off and turned away, shutting down the door on his way out. They heard the key turn in the lock and a bolt being pushed. They were trapped, alone in a gloomy and silent basement. A dirty window at street level, above their heads, was casting the dim light of a street lamp.

Henry crawled his way to the wall opposite the door, and leaned against it, with barely enough energy to sit up. He closed his eyes for a moment. Lit sideways by the weak light coming through the small window, he looked terrifyingly pale, his chalk white skin a stark contrast with the dark red blood staining his clothes and hands. Lucas took off his jacket and knelt down next to him.

“Do you want to lie down?” he offered.

Henry opened an eye and shook his head. “I think I breath better sitting up.”

Lucas placed his jacket behind Henry’s head, so that it wouldn’t rest directly on the dirty concrete. Henry smiled weakly, as Lucas helped him find a comfortable position.

“Thank you. You’re a good man, Lucas.”

“Doc...,” Lucas started. But a painful lump in his throat prevented him from asking out loud the question that was gripping his heart. Do you think you can hold on till morning? With his immense knowledge about anything and everything, combined with his solid pathologist experience, there was no doubt Henry had calculated a precise estimate of how long he had.

But you didn’t need to be Henry Morgan to know that he didn’t have until morning.

As if to prove him right, Henry was suddenly shaken by a bout of coughing and he spat some blood, which made Lucas’ own blood drain from his face. He was used to blood and wounds, but he wasn’t used to people dying, and certainly not Henry Morgan dying. Henry wasn’t just his boss. He was his friend and his mentor, even if he would probably deny both titles. Henry Morgan was the smartest and most fascinating person Lucas had ever met. A bit eccentric, a hard nut to crack, but a fair boss, always generous with that endless knowledge of his, and a good human being. Lucas was damned if he was going to let him die on his watch.

Determined to find a way out, Lucas started studying the small room they were in. There was only one door – the one they came in through – and it was locked from the outside, by the lock and an additional bolt. It was a lot of safety for the door to an empty basement.

It wasn’t completely empty, though. A corner was filled with old and dusty cardboard boxes disorderly piled up. Maybe there would be something in there that could either help them escape, or defend themselves against their kidnappers. Allowing a glimpse of hope, Lucas started searching through the boxes. The first one was full of Christmas ornaments of all sorts. Another was filled with a variety of old magazines, eaten away by mold and humidity. In other circumstances, Lucas might have had the curiosity to look through them. He would have tried to figure out what kind of men their hosts could be only from the papers they read and how they ornated their Christmas tree. But right now, he would rather have found a baseball bat or a knife. If it came to it, maybe the Christmas string lights could be used to strangle his opponent. Lucas winced. He really hoped he wouldn’t have to resort to such extremes.

“Any chance you could climb through this window?” Henry slurred from across the room.

Lucas reached out for the window above his head and tried to wipe it. His hands were still mated with Henry’s dry blood and they left a gloomy smear on the dusty glass. “There’s bars. We won’t be able to get through it. And even if there weren’t, how would you climb up there?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

Lucas turned on his heels to face Henry. “Don’t you give up on me, Henry Morgan.”

Henry shot him the saddest smile. “I’m not. I promise you, I’m not giving up. I have a plan.”

“You do?”

“Please, come here.”

Henry’s voice was barely more than a murmur. He was doing his best to keep a calm facade, but Lucas could tell that every breath was a painful struggle. The young man sat next to his boss, barely refraining the urge to wrap his arm around his shoulders.

“Did you notice anything in particular when we got out of the van?”

Lucas shook his head. “I’m sorry, doc. I tried. But all I could see was a line of brownstone houses. Some cars parked in the street.”

“That’s right. There was a grey Fiat parked to our left, and a red Ford Taurus to our right. The street had trees on the opposite sidewalk. I didn’t manage to see a street sign.”

And all this, while shot and barely able to stand on his two feet. “Wow, doc, that’s impressive.”

“Sadly, not very specific.”

“So,” Lucas asked, hopeful, “now, what do we do with all this?”

But Henry didn’t answer. On the contrary, he remained silent for a while.

“There is something I need to tell you.” he said finally. He moistened his lips and took a breath as deep as he could in his current state. “I have this... unusual... sort of a medical condition. I’m going to vanish. But I’ll come back for you, I promise. I’ll get us some help and I’ll come back for you.”

Lucas’ heart felt suddenly heavy. That was Henry’s plan? He’d magically disappear and come back with the cavalry? This sounded so ridiculous and so not Henry that Lucas wanted to cry. Was the mind of the brilliant and kind Henry Morgan starting to fall apart? Was that it, then? Was this the end?

“Henry, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” That’s all he found to say, and it felt both terribly flat and horribly erroneous.

“I’m sorry, I’m not making any sense,” Henry said. Somehow, he seemed to have found a literal second breath. His voice sounded more assured. “I’m not used to talking about it. I haven’t actually told anyone else in over half a century.”

He shifted slightly to look directly at his assistant.

“I’m immortal, Lucas.”

To be continued...

Chapter Text

Henry clenched his teeth and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. His heart was racing in his broken ribcage, but it had nothing to do with his wounds. Sharing his secret had always been something he dreaded with every single cell of his body.

Lucas was looking at him with a mix of disbelief and pity. Henry couldn’t blame him. If he wasn’t immortal himself, he would probably not have believed this was at all possible. People don’t magically disappear and teleport back to life in a nearby river. Not as a rule anyway.

“I know you don’t believe me,” he sighed. “But I guess you’ll see for yourself soon enough. I’m sorry you have to find out this way.” Henry paused to catch his breath. “The problem is that I do die, temporarily, and I disappear. But I want you to know, Lucas, I’m not abandoning you. I will come back.”

Henry paused and closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the rough concrete wall. He had passed the point of exhaustion half an hour ago. His right lung had collapsed and his breathing had become excruciatingly difficult. He was fighting for every single second to explain this to Lucas, but he was dreading the moment he would be forced to leave him, alone, probably in shock, in this dark basement, and at the mercy of their kidnappers. What if the men came back before he could bring in a rescue team? Surely, they would not take it too kindly that one of their prisoners had managed to escape, and Lucas wouldn’t have any sane explanation for it either.

On the other hand, they would likely not come back until morning now. This gave them a good window in which Henry could disappear safely and come back with the Police to rescue Lucas in time.

“You have to promise me not to tell anyone,” he breathed.

Lucas shook his head in disbelief. “Tell anyone what? That you’re immortal?”

“Yes. That you’ll have seen me die and disappear. I know it’s a big favor to ask. But no one must know. It’s… It kind of sound foolish to say it like this, but it’s a secret. I need you to promise me, Lucas.”

“Henry, I…”

“It’s important, Lucas,” Henry pressed, his voice barely a whisper.

“Yes, Henry, anything. I swear,” Lucas finally caved in. Henry wasn’t convinced he believed him, but the young man wasn’t one not to indulge a man his dying wish.

Henry’s body was now feeling terribly heavy, and his movements, when he reached for his watch in his pocket, were sluggish, approximative, as if his body and his mind were disconnecting. At least the pain in his chest had subsided. It was only a matter of minutes now.

He put the watch in Lucas’ hand.

“Keep it for me,” he slurred.

“No, no, no. It’s not over yet,” Lucas protested. “You just hold on a little longer. I’ll hide behind the door. When they come back I’ll... I'll figure something out.”

The despair in Lucas’ voice broke Henry’s heart.

“I’m sorry, Lucas.” Even talking had become laborious. “It’s going to happen anytime, now. Hopefully, they won’t, but if they do come back, try to buy yourself as much time as you can. Don’t do anything harsh.”

“Please, Henry. Stop.”

“Stay safe,” he whispered. “I will come back.”

His heart beat one last time, and Henry’s life flashed before his eyes.

Thirty seconds later, he broke the surface of the East River and took one long breath of air at the full capacity of his lungs.

Stunned, Lucas was staring at the empty spot beside him where, a moment earlier, his boss was still sitting. What had just happened?

“Henry?” he asked tentatively.

But only the deafening silence of the night answered him.

He jumped to his feet, span around, looking all around him. There was no trace of Henry. Not even a blood stain. Only the scarf that he had dropped when they first came in was lying in the middle of the room, crumpled and abandoned. It was as if he had never been there in the first place. It was maddening. How could Henry vanish like that?

And yet, Henry did warn him. I’m going to disappear.

It made no sense. People’s bodies didn’t just disintegrate when they died. Not instantly. It was a whole process, that Lucas understood. They slowly and methodically decomposed. First, the soft tissues, in a matter of weeks. Then, the skin, the hair, the nails. Finally, much later – years, sometimes centuries later – the bones would disappear too. But not within mere seconds. Henry’s body couldn’t have evaporated like that.

Then what?

Had it all been in his head? Could it be that, in his panic of being kidnapped, Lucas had made it all up, that Henry had actually never been with him?

It had felt so real, though. He could still feel Henry’s weight as he was leaning on him, a moment ago. He remembered the thick and sticky blood between his fingers, as he had tried to contain the hemorrhage. And yet, now, his hands were full of dust, devoid of any drop of blood.

Lucas slowly sat back on the floor. His back against the cold concrete wall, he brought his knees to his chin. A shiver ran through his spine. Was he losing his mind? This was a terrifying thought.

His eyes fell on the pocket watch, tightly squeezed in his clenched fist. He slowly opened his hand and gently swiped the shiny surface. Henry had put his precious watch in Lucas’ hand a few minutes ago. It was a solid proof that the doctor had indeed been here. Lucas breathed. At least he hadn’t completely lost his marbles.

But that meant Henry had… teleported? Maybe Henry was a superhero. Lucas wouldn’t put it past him. This would explain the secrecy, the mysteries. Henry’s reluctance to let anyone close. Maybe his roommate Abraham was his Alfred. Henry did have a secret cave hidden below the antiques store.

Or, maybe Henry disapparated , like they do in Harry Potter. Henry was a wizard. It would fit him better than being a superhero. It was probably all this Britishness. You’re a wizard, Henry.

Lucas felt the tears rising. He shook his head and wiped them away with the back of his sleeve. It was a nice thought, except There was no such thing as magic, in this real, muggle world.

“You’re a fool, Lucas,” he whispered to himself.

Except… Henry knew he was going to disappear. He was right about it. So, maybe he was going to be right about coming back? But Henry had been fatally shot and was now – literally – gone. Could it be that on top of disapparating, Henry was also immortal?

Lucas stood up and started pacing in circles in the small room. None of it made sense. People didn’t come back from the dead. But then, people didn’t vanish into thin air. How did Henry even know this was going to happen? Were there other people like him, who disappeared upon dying?

Maybe Henry was an alien. Aliens are more probable than magic. Lucas sighed. Many hypotheses, none of them believable, and no answer, for lack of… Henry.

There was also something else, nagging him at the back of his head. Henry said something about not having shared his secret for half a century. Half a century. But Henry was 35. Lucas had seen his passport, he was born September 19 ^th , 1979. Not that Lucas was stalking his boss or anything. He had just been looking for the date of Henry’s birthday, in the hope of inviting him for a drink or something. Lucas wouldn’t have taken Henry for the kind to have a fake passport. Though he supposed it would be an inevitable inconvenience of being immortal. Notwithstanding the fact that Henry certainly didn’t look over 50.

And there it was again. Immortal. Everything, every clue, every word Henry had said pointed toward the same conclusion: that he was, indeed, immortal. Lucas put his head in his hands. This made no sense. It was crazy, infuriating, inexplicable.

He wasn’t even sure what to believe, nor what to feel. Should he keep hope that Henry would be back, like he promised? Or should he accept that Henry was really gone?

No, that was too painful to think about. It couldn’t be. This was too unfair. Henry Morgan didn’t deserve to die in a dark and creepy basement by the hand of two morons who didn’t know what they were doing. Not Henry Morgan, the man who would politely decline an offer to grab a drink for his birthday but would absolutely cover for you in front of the Precinct lieutenant without batting an eye. Henry Morgan, the man who pretended not to need any friends, but who would take a bullet for you. Literally.

I will come back. Those were Henry’s last words. If he was right about disappearing, he must have also told the truth about coming back. This was the most logical thing in this completely insane situation. Lucas had to hold on to that.

So, now all he had to do was wait.

Right on cue, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Someone unlocked the bolts, and the door swung opened. But the figure that materialized wasn’t Henry’s. It was one the kidnappers.

Lucas turned pale. This was going to be hard to explain.

To be continued...

Chapter Text

Henry swam to the shore as fast as he could, all the while hatching the rest of the plan. He had to call Jo so he could lead her to Queens. Hopefully he’ll manage to recognize the street and the house where Lucas was being held captive. But first he needed clothes, so he needed Abe.

The one good thing about being murdered in the middle of the night was that the East River park was empty. Henry found his way to his usual phone booth without making any unfortunate encounter.

He picked up the receiver and placed a collect call to Detective Martinez. The phone rang for what seemed like forever and he thought the call would go to voicemail, but finally Jo picked up.

“Who is it?” She asked sleepily.

“Jo, it’s Henry.”

“Henry?” She suddenly sounded a lot more awake. “What’s going on?”

“Lucas has been kidnapped. Actually, we both were, but we got separated.”

“Where are you? Are you safe?”

“Yes, I’m fine, but we have to go back, Lucas is still there.”

“What happened?”

He could hear the muffled sound of Jo hurrying to get dressed and ready.

“I’ll explain later,” He pressed, ignoring her question. “Bring back up, but we’ve got to be discreet. If they hear us, they might decide to move and we’d lose them. There were at least two of them, and one was armed. I don’t have the exact address but I think I can find it if I retrace the route. Meet me at the South corner of the zoo in Queens.”

“The zoo?”

“See you there,” Henry said.

He disconnected the call and got through Abe’s Antiques.

“Abe, it’s me.”

“Henry! Have you seen the hour? I was worried sick!”

“I was kidnapped,” Henry explained again. “I got away but they have Lucas. I’m at the river, please bring me clothes – one of my navy blue suits. I don’t want Jo to wonder why I changed since this morning. It’s urgent. I need to go back. Please, hurry, son.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

Henry put down the phone and hurried, shivering, to his usual hideout. True to his words, Abraham arrived in a record time.

“We’ve got to go to the Queens Zoo,” Henry said, as he slid in the passenger seat.

“The zoo?”

Henry rolled his eyes as he grabbed the towel and stack of clothes his son had prepared for him. Why did everyone sound so surprised about the zoo?

Getting dressed in a car was always an acrobatic exercise, but Henry had acquired a certain technique through practice. He dried his hair as best as he could, hoping Jo wouldn’t notice.

“What happened?” Abraham asked, unfazed by his father’s contortions.

“We got kidnapped, I got shot,” Henry summarized briefly. “We were brought in a house somewhere in Queens. But then I died.”

“Wait – you died? In front of people?”

“Thankfully, it was just Lucas who saw me disappear.”

“So, he knows?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Are you at risk to being exposed? Do we need to run?”

“I’ll worry about me later, right now I need to find him.”

Focused on the present mission, Henry didn’t really answer his son’s first question, but he already knew the answer to the second one. He really hoped he wouldn’t need to run. He had unexpectedly gotten quite attached to his few acquaintances here – Lucas and Jo in particular – and it would pain him to leave them all behind. As for the first question, it was more complicated. He certainly wasn’t comfortable with someone else now being aware of his secret, but if someone had to know, Lucas wasn’t too bad of an option. Lucas was a good man, and Henry was confident enough he wouldn’t do anything to endanger him.

“Shouldn’t you call the cops?” Abe asked

“I’ve already called Jo, I’m meeting her at the zoo.”

“Why the zoo?”

“That’s the last certain location I have. But I’m hoping I can retrace the route we took from memory.”

“And how are you going to explain to Jo that you got away?”

Henry winced. “I hope she won’t ask too many questions,” he said, mostly to convince himself.

This late at night – or early in the morning – traffic was light, and it wasn’t long until Henry recognized the smell of manure indicating they were approaching the zoo. He instructed Abe to drop him a street away from where he had planned to meet Jo, so that the Detective wouldn’t see them. It would be hard to explain to her why Henry had brought his roommate to a rescue mission.

Jo was already there, waiting as instructed, at the South corner. Mike Hanson and another cop who Henry only knew as Ben were accompanying her. All three of them were wearing bulletproof vests and carrying their service weapons at their side.

Jo spotted him first. “Henry, are you okay?” she asked, scanning him from head to toe for any sign that he wouldn’t be.

Henry nodded reassuringly. “Got any spare for me?” he asked, pointing at the Jo’s vest.

He had had his gunshot quota for the night.

Jo shot him a disapproving look. “We’re not taking a civilian to a potentially dangerous takedown. You said they were armed.”

Henry wanted to protest that there was no way he’d stay behind, but he was saved by Mike who wasn’t keen on useless chitchat when there were more pressing matters at hand – or possibly because he had been dragged out of his bed at an inhumane hour.

“So, Doc,” he grumbled. “Where are we going?”

“I’ll know when I’m there,” Henry said, more confidently than he really felt about it all. “Where’s your car?”

Henry got into Jo’s car, while Mike and the other cop, Ben, followed from the second vehicle. Henry instructed Jo to drive steadily. The whole plan sounded great in his mind, but now that he was there, he realized it was much more complicated. He remembered the number of turns – left, right, two left – but how many crossroads had they passed in between?

They still had to chance it. This was their best shot at finding Lucas quickly. Hoping he wasn’t making a complete fool of himself, Henry indicated to Jo what he thought was the best estimate of the route. Jo patiently complied, following his instruction without comment. The street they were looking for should now be on their left, somewhere. Henry’s heart was racing. He asked Jo to slow down as he scanned each street they passed. They all look desperately identical. Lines after lines of residential brownstone houses.

“Wait –“ he said suddenly. Jo stopped and Henry dashed out of the car, jogging back to the street they just passed.

There it was. The red Taurus. And the black van. God blessed amateur kidnappers who didn’t bother hiding their vehicles.

“Henry, what the hell?” Jo was cursing behind him as she was catching up with him.

Henry pointed to the house. “This one.”

Mike and Ben had joined them, and Mike had the presence of mind to bring Henry a bulletproof vest.

Jo shook her head, but Mike countered. “Better safe than sorry.”

Henry eagerly wrapped himself in the vest and was ready to rush into the house but Jo caught him by the arm and forced him to step back.

“You stay behind us,” she ordered sternly.

Doing his best to contain his anxiety, Henry nodded and complied. The van was still there, he reasoned to himself, so there was a good chance Lucas was still there, too. Jo commanded Ben to go around the block to check for a back entrance, and she led Mike and Henry into the house.

There was no light and no sound coming from the inside. It was taking Henry all his will power not to rush in.

Jo cautiously checked the front door. It was locked. To Henry’s growing despair, she decided to pick the lock – which was quieter but slower than simply tearing down the door.

Finally, they got in. In front of them was a staircase to the upper floors, but they heard voices rising from behind a door to their right, which Henry knew to be the way to the kitchen, but also the basement. In a silent gesture, Mike indicated he would check the upper floor. Jo took the ground floor. Following the voices, and with Henry on her heels, she cautiously progressed along the corridor and listened through the door to the kitchen. She slowly turned the door knob and pushed the door opened. The kitchen was empty. It was now clear the voices were coming from the basement. Without giving it any second thought, Henry ran down the stairs and charged through the door before Jo had any chance to stop him.

“Henry!” she protested angrily but way too late.

Down the stairs, Henry slammed the door opened and his heart skipped a beat as he took in the scene before him. The tall man was holding Lucas arms locked behind his back, while the short one had his hand raised, ready to hit him across the face. Judging from Lucas’ bloody cheekbone, it wasn’t the first punch. Surprised by Henry’s sudden irruption, the three of them looked up at once.

“Henry!” Lucas exclaimed, a bloody smile illuminating his wounded features.

Taking advantage of his captor’s distraction, Lucas fiercely stamped on the man’s foot, making him cry in pain and release his hold. Free for the man’s grip, Lucas threw himself at Henry’s neck.

“Henry! You’re alive! I was so worried! But you’re here.” He pulled back a second to look at Henry. “And so… normal. Unhurt. Safe and sound. Perfectly handsome, as usual. Alive.” He pointed at Henry’s bulletproof vest. “That would have been handy earlier. Would have saved us a lot of grief.”

He wrapped his arms around Henry once again, squeezing him hard. The doctor wasn’t used to so much effusion, but he, too, was very glad to see his assistant again, and he hugged him back, patting him lightly in the back.

“It’s good to see you too,” he said with a smile.

From the corner of his eye, Henry noticed the short guy reaching for the gun tucked in his belt, but behind him, Jo was faster.

“Don’t even think about it,” she shouted fiercely, her own gun drawn and steady in her grip. “Hands in the air, both of you.”

“I kept my word,” Lucas whispered Henry’s ear.

Henry gently pulled him back to look at his face. He had a deep cut on his eyebrow and another one on his right cheek, both bleeding profusely. But what worried Henry’s expert eye more was the bruise starting to color the jawline. Just looking at it was painful and he was sure Lucas was hurting. He hoped that at least he didn’t have anything broken.

“I’m so sorry, Lucas,” he said.

Jo had made the two crooks go back upstairs where Ben cuffed them before escorting them to his car.

“The house is empty,” Mike reported. “We’ll bring those two to booking. I’ve requested the crime scene unit and an ambulance. How’s the kid?”

“A bit shaken up, but in one piece.”

She turned back toward the basement. “Henry! Come here.”

Henry was about to climb back the stairs but Lucas caught him by the arm. He picked up the abandoned scarf and handed it to his boss.

“Don’t forget your scarf,” he said with a grin.

“That bloody scarf…” Henry chuckled as he dusted it off. He quickly inspected it. While all trace of his blood disappeared at the same time as his body, sometimes it left things somewhat oddly deformed. Luckily, it didn’t seem to be the case for his scarf. It would definitely need a good dry cleaning, but to his relief, it seemed salvageable.

They joined Jo upstairs. The detective turned to Lucas and gave him a warm smile. “The ambulance is here.”

Lucas straightened up and shrugged. “I’m fine,” he assured. “It’s just a bruise.”

“You need to go to the hospital to get your jaw checked,” Henry stated.

“Let the EMTs check you at least,” Mike offered. “Come with me.”

Henyr wanted to follow them but Jo called him back.

“Henry, stay here.”

Her tone was significantly less friendly than a minute ago with Lucas. Contrite, he slowly turned to face her. She was furious, and Henry couldn’t really blame her. Hands on her hips, she waited for Mike and Lucas to have left the room, shooting at her incorrigible ME a deadly look.

“What the Hell, Henry! I told you to stay behind. You could have been shot!”

“I had a vest,” Henry tried, offering his most irresistible smile.

But Jo was not in the mood. “This is not a joke, Henry. You have to learn to listen. It’s a dangerous job.”

Henry was tempted to argue she wasn’t the one that had just been kidnapped and shot but he thought better.

“I’m sorry, Jo,” he said instead. “I was just worried about Lucas.”

“We all were. But there’s no need for you to be everyone’s hero.” She took a deep breath to force herself to relax. “What did they want from you?”

Henry shrugged. “I have no idea. They mentioned briefly that they were after me. Lucas was merely an unfortunate bystander. I’m guessing the plan was to hand me over to whoever ordered the kidnapping. I doubt either of them were masterminds.”

“Okay. You can go. I’m going to wait for the CSU. I’ll need you and Lucas to come by the precinct later today to give your statements.”

Henry nodded. “Of course, Detective. Thank you.”

He will have to give it some serious thinking to come up with a coherent story. His main worry was about the two kidnappers. While they didn’t see him disappear, they still knew way too much. If either of them admitted shooting Henry, he would have a hard time explaining being miraculously unharmed. And what would Jo think of him if it appeared Henry had escaped while leaving Lucas behind?

To be continued...

Chapter Text

Lucas was perched on a gurney inside the ambulance while a paramedic was attending to his wounds. The whole right side of his face was hurting and the after-effects of the night had left him completely drained. He wanted nothing more than to go home, curl up under his thick and fluffy blanket and finally sleep. But the paramedic insisted on taking him in and Lucas just shrugged in resignation. He caught movement outside the ambulance and he glanced without moving his head. It was Henry, talking briefly to Mike and handing him back his bulletproof vest. Lucas couldn’t help but feel relief to see him nimbly climbing into the ambulance. His vigor and the earnest smile he offered Lucas were such a stark contrast to the pale dying figure he was not so long ago.

“We were waiting for you,” the paramedic told Henry. “The Detective informed us you might need a ride to the hospital.”

“I’m unharmed, thank you. But if it’s alright, I’d like to ride along with Lucas. I’ll finish him up,” Henry offered. “I’m a doctor.”

The paramedic left them alone in the back of the vehicle and informed his colleague behind the wheel that they were good to go. As the vehicle started moving, Henry put on a pair of sterile latex gloves and, taking a clean gauze, he gently finished cleaning away Lucas’ blood before putting some steri-strips over the deepest cuts.

Lucas kept staring at Henry – his face, his chest. Part of him just couldn’t compute what had just happened. The image of Henry bleeding out on the sidewalk, his daunting chalk-white face and his raspy breathing were still haunting him. And yet, Henry was standing there, as if nothing had happened, wearing the same suit and vest, smiling and looking warmly at Lucas while fixing him up.

“This will do for now,” Henry said, “but I’m afraid you’re going to need stitches. My goodness, Lucas, I am so very sorry. I came back as fast as I could. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Lucas stated bravely. “I knew you’d come back.”

Henry tilted his head and looked at Lucas in the eyes. “No, you didn’t.”

“Okay, fine, I didn’t. But you can’t blame me for doubting your words. Henry, this is insane.”

“No, I really can’t blame you.” Henry said fondly before turning serious. “After what happened, it’d be perfectly normal not to be okay. You got kidnapped at gun point and you saw me die. And disappear. And to top it all, you were left to deal with the wrath caused by my little vanishing act. That was quite a lot for one night.”

Lucas looked down. “I’ll admit it was a bit scary. And I thought for a second that I had lost it. Or that I had lost you. Either way, it was a rather gloomy perspective.” Despite himself, a shiver ran through Lucas body at the memory of Henry’s pale figure and he had to look up at him to be reassured again that it was all behind them. “But I’m so glad you didn’t die. I’d rather have been knocked about protecting you than being left with your corpse.”

“Oh, Lucas...” Henry said, his voice unexpectedly breaking.

His fingers were now cautiously and expertly palpating Lucas’ jaw.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

“Like hell,” Lucas admitted. “Is it broken?”

“I don’t think so. It’s swollen and a bad bruise is developing but I don’t feel anything obviously wrong. I’d still prefer you had an X-ray to be sure.”

“So, you know how to take care of living patients, too.”

It was meant as a simple tease, but Henry paused and looked Lucas in the eyes. “I used to practice medicine,” he said, and Lucas could tell it was an important admission.

Lucas tried to contain his excitement but he couldn’t suppress the glitter in his eyes.

“We can talk about it later,” Henry said quickly, eyeing at the paramedic in the front.

Lucas winked. “Sure thing, Doc.”

In the cramped back of the ambulance, it wasn’t easy to find a place to sit, and Henry resigned himself to sitting on the gurney next to Lucas.

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow?” he offered. “We’ll be more free to talk over a cup of tea.”

Lucas beamed. It was like he had acquired a whole new status, now that he was in on Henry’s secret – The incredible fact that Henry Morgan was immortal. Lucas had a million questions but he knew better than abuse his newly found position as Henry’s sidekick – cause that’s what he was now, wasn’t he? He’d make sure to be worthy of it. He’ll be Watson to Henry’s Sherlock. Sam to his Frodo. Robin to his Batman.

But right now, the dynamic duo had a more pressing matter at hand, as Henry said, “Later today, we’ll have to give our statements about what happened.”

“Does Detective Martinez know about your… condition?”

Clenching his jaw, Henry shook his head. “She doesn’t, and she mustn’t know. The less people know, the safer.”

This sounded quite definitive and Lucas didn’t argue. But that was going to make their recount of the night a little bit delicate.

“I had to tell those goons something,” he admitted, feeling a bit guilty about it now. “I said you picked the lock and went looking for an escape.”

Henry winced, following Lucas’ trail of thoughts. “So it looks like I left you there.”

Lucas looked down. “Sorry.”

“Well, I kind of did.”

“But it wasn’t your fault.”

Henry seemed to zone out, lost in his thoughts, as he was doing sometimes, and from the look of it, they were not happy thoughts.

“Henry,” Lucas called softly.

Henry startled and quickly shook away the sadness that had been clouding his gaze.

Lucas reached out with the watch that he had safely kept in his pocket and handed it back to its rightful owner.

Henry brushed the finely engraved lid and a smile reappeared on his lips. “Thank you for keeping it safe,” he said warmly, putting his treasure possession in his own pocket. “Everything I keep on me disappears too, so it hasn’t been easy to keep my possessions over the years. And yet somehow, I’ve managed not to lose my father’s watch all these years.”

“Anytime, Henry. And thank you for saving my life.”

Henry smiled. “Anytime.”

“I know you’re a very private person and this is probably not the way you would have wanted to tell me – if you’d ever wanted to tell me. I promise your secret is safe with me. I’ll be silent as a tomb.”

Henry looked fondly at him and Lucas felt his heart melt a little. “Your life is worth a lot more than my secret. I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”

Despite Lucas’ protests, Henry insisted on coming with him to the hospital and waiting for him to come back from radiology. It was only after being reassured that it was nothing more than a nasty bruise and that no bones were broken that Henry reluctantly agreed to leave Lucas and finally head to the precinct.

If he was perfectly honest with himself, it wasn’t solely worry over Lucas that had made him reluctant to get to the precinct. He was also postponing the moment he would have to face his PD partners and, at best, face their disapproving looks, or at worst, have to explain the explainable.

By the time he arrived at the police station, the sun had risen, putting an end to this endless night. Neither Jo nor Mike were at their desks, though judging from the pile of folders and the pictures taped to the white boards, they had been quite busy already. As he searched the precinct, he found them in the tech lab, watching what appeared to be surveillance footage from a street camera. They turned around and stared at Henry as if they were seeing a ghost.

“Henry, why didn’t you tell us you were shot? Are you hurt?” Jo asked.

Forcing a smile, Henry did his best to appear casual, despite feeling his anxiety rising by the minute. “No, of course not.”

“The footage clearly shows you jumping on the gun.”

“I was merely trying to divert them from Lucas. But clearly, they missed, since I’m perfectly unscathed.” This seemed obvious enough and Jo relaxed a bit. Henry went on. “I pretended to be shot in the hope they’d panic and let us go. Sadly it didn’t work and they forced us into their van.”

This all sounded logical enough in Henry’s mind. It would be unlikely that his kidnappers’ version would contradict his too much. There wasn’t any evidence that he had actually been shot. Luckily, it seemed plausible enough for Jo as well.

“Why don’t you come with me, I’ll take your statement.”

Henry followed Jo to her desk and gave her an account of the night’s events as close to the truth as he could – only omitting the part where he had actually been shot, and his midnight bath in the East River. He even managed not to fumble too much to explain how he found himself at the zoo after escaping.

“I made it out of the house. I guess I panicked a little as I was searching for a phone. I got lost for a moment.”

“But why did you leave Lucas there? Wouldn’t it have been easier to run together?”

“In retrospect, that would have been a better choice, indeed,” Henry admitted.

“This doesn’t sound like you.”

“A momentary lapse of judgment, I suppose.”

She shot him a rather reproachful look but she quickly caught herself. “I’m sorry, Henry” she said sympathetically. “It must have been a difficult night. I’m just glad you and Lucas are okay.”

“It’s alright, Detective.” In the hope to divert the conversation from him, Henry pointed to the files on her desk. “How is the investigation is going?”

“Pretty fast.” She pointed to a picture on the board. “This one, Arthur Wild, is a small fish. His rap sheet is mostly minor demeanor. It’s his first kidnapping. But Robert Lang,” - she pointed to another picture - “the one who tried to shoot you, is a known associate to Luis Pearson, a serious drug player. I think it’s no coincidence this happened right after a drug mule landed on your slab. My guess is that they wanted you to bury the evidence. But this turned out to be a mistake because now we have a lead on Pearson for this murder case.”

It was a small consolation that the whole thing had proven useful. Now if only Henry could warn Lucas about the footage so that their testimonies would match, everything would be fine.

“Very well,” he said, getting ready to leave. “Now if that is all, Detective, I would like to go home and rest for a few hours. I’ll be back at the office this afternoon.”

to be continued...

Chapter Text

As so often, Jo found herself the last one still at her desk. Mike had called it a night two hours ago, apologizing that he had to relieve his nanny from his kids. Even Lieutenant Reece had left. But Jo had found herself facing an unexpected conundrum.

She hadn’t meant to question Henry’s statement. She was merely trying to build a proper case against Wild and Lang for armed abduction. It was part of her job to collect and double check evidence. She hadn’t given it any particular thought when she had pulled her own phone records to see from which public phone Henry had used. But now she couldn’t ignore the fact that Henry had called her from a phone by East River Park, miles away from the house he had escaped from and the zoo where he had asked her to meet him. What on Earth was he doing there?

Based on Henry and Lucas’ statements, Henry had jumped on Lang’s gun when Lucas exited the building. Somehow Henry had managed to avoid the bullet but had tricked his abductors into believing he was hit. Despite the forensic team sent to the scene, the bullet hadn’t been recovered. Land and Wild had forced Henry and Lucas into their van and conducted them to that house in Queens where – they finally admitted it – they were planning on handing them over to Pearson. So, on the one hand, you had Henry who very bravely jumped on the gun at the risk of being shot to protect Lucas, which was a bold move but not completely out of character for Henry; Jo had seen him act rather recklessly to prevent a suspect from escaping or to deter an armed man from her. But on the other hand, you had Henry escaping at the first occasion, living Lucas behind. Which was very much out of character.

Then, there was the fact that Lang claimed he’d bolted the door behind Henry and Lucas – a bolt that couldn’t be opened nor picked from the inside - and hadn't returned to the basement until he found Lucas alone. And yet, Henry had managed to escape.

Jo wasn’t sure what to make of this. This would certainly not matter much for the case she was building against Lang and Wild, but her gut was telling her there was something fishy about Henry’s behavior, though she couldn’t understand why.

Jo opened the top drawer of her desk and after rummaging through the mess, retrieved a small unmarked notebook. She looked at the list she had established.

Survived the subway crash – unbreakable?

Fell down a roof. Denied it – able to fly?

Arrested for skinny dipping in the East River – repeatedly – ????

Watch found again in the subway. Denied being there – can teleport?

The old photo. Pretended it was a ringer. - time traveler?

She picked up her pen and added two new lines.

Unscathed from GSW – healing powers?

Escaped a room locked from the outside – teleportation?

This was a silly list. Jo was perfectly aware of it. None of her hypotheses were reasonable. And yet... She couldn’t help but think there was something about Henry. Something that would explain everything, his eccentricities, his occasionally strange or reckless behavior or his apparent magical powers. Jo closed the notebook and put it back at the bottom of the drawer. One day, hopefully, she would find a way to ask Henry about it all.

After a day and a half of sleep, only interrupted long enough to go to the Precinct and give his statement, Lucas was feeling a lot better, the ordeal of the previous night now merely an unpleasant memory. He showed up at Abe’s Antiques at five on the dot, and was warmly welcomed by Abraham, Henry’s roommate. Lucas had seen the inside of the store before, and Henry’s secret lair in the basement, but it was the first time he was invited upstairs. It was a cozy apartment, surprisingly spacious, with even a terrace on the second floor. It wasn’t Wayne’s manor but in the real world’s New York City it was still pretty cool.

Henry was comfortably settled with a book in the living room. He stood up and greeted Lucas with a warm smile, inviting him to take a sit and offering him a drink. Having swallowed a good share of painkillers, Lucas declined any alcohol but accepted a tea and happily took a seat.

Sipping on his warm beverage, Lucas was wondering how soon would be too soon to ask all the burning questions that had been spinning in his mind endlessly for the few hours he hadn’t been sleeping.

“How is the jaw?” Henry asked, pouring for himself a glass of Cognac.

Despite the meds, it was still quite painful and Lucas had to be careful not to open his month too wide nor chew too hard.

“I’m vaguely jealous of your power, right now,” he said, cautiously refraining a grin. “I wish I could reset like you did and erase it.”

Henry grinned. “It has its perks.”

“So, what are you exactly? A superhero, a vampire? Surely you’re not a zombie?”

“What’s that?” Henry asked, looking vaguely afraid.

Abraham, who had joined them, chuckled. “It’s like a living corpse, rotting but walking.”

Henry grimaced. “Ew, no, I am certainly not that.”

“But you can’t die,” Lucas countered.

“To my great despair,” Henry admitted.

“Really?”

Now this was just like Henry, to be unhappy of a superpower.

“But you have a superpower. That makes you a superhero, or a mutant at the very least.”

“Let it go, kid,” Abraham said. “I’ve been trying to make him consider his condition as a superpower for fifty years. It’s a lost battle.”

Lucas stared at Abraham, then Henry, and back again. So Henry was actually older than Abe. Abraham was probably the person Henry told his secret to, half a century ago.

“How old are you exactly?”

“Two hundred and thirty-five.”

If they were in a cartoon, this was where Lucas’ jaw would have dropped to the floor. And that wasn’t even the best part.

“Abraham is my son,” Henry said quite naturally. “But except for the fact that I don’t age, and can’t die, I’m a regular human being. I’m not a superhero, or a vampire or anything magic. I’m just... Henry Morgan.” He sent a pointed look at Lucas. “And I don’t have a secret identity.”

“So… no fighting crimes at night?”

Lucas meant this as a joke, but Henry, apparently oblivious of who he really was, took it seriously.

“I’m no hero, Lucas,” he sighed.

This was so ridiculous, coming from the man who had just saved his life that Lucas stared at Henry, for a second dumbfounded.

“You do realize you are fighting crime everyday, don’t you? Maybe your real superpower is that incredible brain of yours. You see things nobody else does. You’ve helped solve hundreds of crimes and contributed to put behind bars as many criminals.”

Henry paused and looked up at Lucas. “I suppose that is true.” He put down his glass on the table between them. “Lucas, I do have a favor to ask, since you are now my second confidant.”

Lucas straightened up. Confidant, sidekick, whatever name Henry would give him, he was ready to fulfill his duty.

Henry took a deep breath. “See, when I disappear anywhere in New York City, I re-emerge in the East River, naked.” He put a somewhat embarrassed emphasis on that last word. “I usually call Abraham, who comes to pick me up and brings me new clothes. I was wondering if you’d accept to keep a change of clothes at your place, so that in case Abe isn’t available, I could call you.”

“Of course, anything you need. You can call me anytime.” That’s when it hit Lucas. “So that’s what happened when you were arrested for taking a swim in the River!”

Henry made a contrite face. “Yes, that is a side-effect rather difficult to conceal.”

The rest of the evening flew by, with Henry and Abe sharing a few stories about their life together. Henry didn’t expand much on his life before Abraham, but he did explain how he first discovered his “condition”. Naturally, Henry had the coolest origin story. He was shot on a ship crossing the Atlantic as he tried to free a group of slaves. This sounded exactly like Henry, though Lucas still had a hard time picturing Henry as a gentleman from the 19 ^th century. His body was thrown overboard, but he came back to life in the middle of the ocean and was rescued by West Indies pirates. Later, Henry became a doctor and practiced medicine for most of his long long life, while trying to find a way to end his “curse”. This seemed to be quite an obsession, though one that Abraham didn’t approve. Life before Abe sounded like a lonely existence but everything changed when he met Abigail, soon to become his wife, and Abraham, whom they adopted together. As a medic enlisted with the US troops sent to free Europe from the Nazis, Henry had witnessed his share of horrors from World War II. By his own admission, the vision of the young woman with the child in her arms had struck Henry like a miracle and it had been love at first sight.

Watching the seventy-year-old antique dealer and Henry – who looked thirty-five at the most – interact together was quite surreal. Henry talked very fondly about his son, looking at him with a familiarity and a tenderness that Lucas had never seen before. He remembered quite clearly Henry telling parents of a victim he had no children of his own. He also remembered how pained Henry had been when they had found the remains of Abe’s mother – Henry specifically calling her, repeatedly, Abe’s mother, unable to say who she really was to him – and he could only guess the agony Henry had been in, and how isolated he must have felt.

When Lucas finally went home, a duffle bag with a change of clothes for Henry on his shoulder and his head full of imaginary pictures of an eternally young Henry Morgan seeking adventures all over the world, he realized what his new duty would be from now on. After all, Henry didn’t need a crime-fighting sidekick – he had Detective Martinez for that. No, what Henry needed, and who Lucas would be, was a faithful friend.

The End