A little more than a year ago, Henry had received the gag gift of red speedos and swim goggles from Det. Mike Hanson in the bullpen outside Lt. Reece's office. While the detective and the unis had peppered him with taunts, he had good-naturedly endured them and accepted the gag gifts. Reece had remained in her office, allowing it, and Jo had stood back a few moments before stepping in to rescue him.

It had all been in good fun, they'd told themselves. None of them had meant any harm when someone had suggested that a public shaming by his co-workers might shake the quirky ME out of his strange habit of supposedly sleepwalking nude near the East River. Who in their right mind would find that to be a pleasurable way to recreate, anyway? Most likely, they all thought, his genius-level intellect sometimes drove him to exhibit mild signs of madness. Geniuses were like that, weren't they? And in the course of a year, the ME had still managed to rack up three more arrests for public nudity in the vicinity of the polluted strait. It was beyond comprehension how he'd kept his job, let alone been allowed to continue working with the 11th's homicide unit.

An impromptu gathering in the bullpen included the said Dr. Henry Morgan and his young assistant, Lucas Wahl, from the OCME. As they listened to Reece proudly read a proclamation of praise from the Mayor for their unit's high solve rate it quickly turned into a nightmare. A young man entered the precinct under the pretense of thanking Jo and Mike for spearheading the new investigation that helped his father, who'd served thirteen years of a life sentence for murder, only to be exonerated by DNA evidence. However, his father had died a week ago in a prison riot the day before his release and the young man was really there to get revenge against the Lieutenant. It was she who had been the original arresting officer. Somehow he managed to yank the firearm from a distracted uni's holster and hold all of them at bay while threatening to shoot the Lieutenant.

All efforts to reason with him failed. Even those with stellar negotiator skills found themselves silenced by his angry threats and obvious intent to follow through on them. A stoic Joanna Reece stared him down, ordering her armed personnel to lower their weapons, which they reluctantly did. The patrolman whose gun was now in the hands of the angry young man was mentally beating himself up, wondering how it could have happened in the first place.

Reece stood just outside her office with Jo and Mike two desks away, midway between her and the gunman, Artie Mason. Both of them, like all their other armed co-workers, were looking for the right moment to jump into action even if that meant taking him out, something they all knew their Lieutenant wanted to avoid. Years ago she'd only done her job by arresting the senior Mason. All the evidence had pointed to him as the perpetrator. She'd only done her job. She wished now, desperately, that she'd done more. That she'd seen more. When word had come down of Mason's exoneration, she'd been torn between feelings of relief, elation, and guilt. Lots of guilt. But still elated that the man would get his freedom back and the right perpetrator would be brought to justice. Her hopes had turned to ashes after his death behind bars. The guilt had returned with a heavy dose of sorrow for him and his family. When the younger Mason had contacted her wishing to come to the precinct to thank Jo, Mike, Henry, and Lucas personally for their help in winning his father's release, it had never entered her mind that his true motive was revenge. Revenge against her. He'd sounded so sincere when he'd told her that he harbored no ill will against her. The Lieutenant wished now that she'd handled the stituation a different way.

Henry and Lucas stood a little closer to the gunman with Henry only two feet away from him. His four colleagues who had come to know him best, sensed, much to their dismay, that he was going to try to defuse the situation himself. The fact that he had repeatedly exhibited his lack of self-preservation grieved them no end. They were worried that he was exhibiting it right now and Reece ordered him to stand down. He was a civilian, after all, and not a trained law enforcement officer like they were. He just didn't seem to understand that jumping in front of bullets and moving cars to take down a suspect was not required of him. Immobilizing suspects and gunmen like young Mason was what they were trained for, not medical examiners.

They watched in horror as Henry attempted to engage young Mason in conversation, to reason with him, all the while inching closer to him. The gunman took a few steps back, shakily pointing the gun at Henry, who now faced the man with his back to the group.

"Back off, man. I'm here to shoot her! Nobody else!"

"I don't believe you want to shoot anyone, young man," Henry calmly told him, inching closer with both hands up. "You're grieving and you want her to see your pain."

"I ... you don't know, you don't know anything! Stop talking. Stay back! I will shoot!"

"Then shoot me," Henry quietly instructed him, ignoring the gasps of incredulity and desperate pleas that rose up from the others. He shut his ears to Jo's pleas of "Don't do this, Henry!". To Reece's and Mike's orders to "Get out of the way!". And to Lucas begging him to "Please do what they say, Doc!"

"You ... you're crazy," Artie told him. The gun was shaking more as he now gripped it tightly with both hands. "J-just stay back!"

Maybe he was finally crazy, Henry thought to himself. Maybe two centuries of living in the shadows of bright society had finally pushed him over the brink. For he felt no qualms about his secret of non-eternal death being revealed in front of them if it would save the Lieutenant's life or anyone else's. Unlike any of them, he would survive. The need to protect his secret at all costs was no longer there. Not at this moment.

"Get out of the way, Doc!" Mike blared at him again. His hand was on his weapon itching to raise it, ready to use it with or without his boss' approval.

"Henry, please!" Jo begged. Her hand rested on her weapon, too, but Henry was in the way.

"Everyone just shut up!" Artie loudly demanded. He was sweating profusely. He thought he could do this. It was the right thing, right? An eye for an eye and all that. It was in the bible. His dad was dead. He'd been railroaded by the system and the cop who'd arrested him had gotten a promotion out of it. Somebody had to pay. Somebody had to pay!

The elevator dinged, causing Artie to jerk his head to the left toward the sound then back at Henry, who had taken advantage of the moment and lunged toward him. The ME wrapped one arm around him and grabbed Artie's wrists with his free hand, pushing them down in an effort to wrest the gun from him. Taking advantage of the moment, themselves, Jo, Mike, and the others advanced quickly toward the two struggling men when the gun went off. Henry froze for a second then sank to his knees. Another shot was fired, this time from Mike's gun, hitting Artie in the left shoulder causing the gun to drop from his hands and clatter onto the floor. As they converged on him and cuffed him, Henry now lay on his back, staring up at Jo, Lucas, and Reece as they hovered over him. Lucas did his best to staunch the bleeding from Henry's abdominal wound with the ME's wadded up scarf but it was doing no good.

There was no time, Henry thought. He knew the wound was fatal. The blood gurgling up into his throat made it difficult to speak. Under any other circumstances, he would have instructed someone witnessing his death to call his son, Abe. But there were too many witnesses. It was no use to try to hide any longer. He managed to tell Jo, "Let Abe know."

She tearfully nodded and took out her cell phone. "I have to call 9-1-1 first, Henry. You need an ambulance," she chokingly replied.

"9-1-1. I'm on it," Mike said, his cell phone to his ear. Silently, he was berating their odd ME. 'Crazy cracker! Taking a bullet like that. Of all the crazy things.'

Henry looked at Jo as her tears fell on his cheeks. He tried to touch hers to brush her tears away but his arms wouldn't work. "Don't worry, Jo. I'll be back." His now rattling voice was weak and barely audible. She leaned down closer to him.

"Henry, don't speak. Help's on the way," she tearfully told him. She wasn't embarrassed at all letting the others see her tears. Letting him see her tears and how much she cared for him. Damn dating pool! They hadn't had a chance to even get to a first date!

He shook his head. "For Mason, not me. East ... River," he said before he exhaled one last time, his eyes wide open, and vanishing in a flash of brilliantly white light.

Although stunned beyond belief, the phenomenon triggered something in Jo's memory, halting her tears. The day she'd followed Henry to the subway and found his pocket watch along with an aged, black-and-white photo of a smiling couple with their baby, she'd also been aware of a flash of white light right before that. She jumped to her feet and looked at an equally stunned Reece, telling her that they had to get to the East River ASAP. She reached Abe on her phone's speed dial and alerted him to the situation.

"Who else saw him disappear?" he asked, car keys in hand and hurriedly locking up the shop.

"Everyone in the squad room, including Lt. Reece," she replied. "Abe, what just happened?"

"I'm sure he'll tell you everything later but right now we gotta get to him before he's arrested again," he replied as he wheeled his car to the location of his father's reawakenings. He ended the call before she could ask any further questions and gunned the accelerator.

Arrested again. Arrested for ... ? "Oh, my God!" Jo exclaimed. The many mug shots of him in his personnel file flashed one after the other in her mind. "He ... he must have died right before each of those arrests," she told Mike as he drove Reece, Lucas, and her to the East River as fast as he could with many of the unis who'd been present, in their wake.

"I don't get it," Mike said. "What is so special about that dirty river?"

"Who cares?" Lucas replied excitedly. "Henry's the one that's special! He's ... he's ... I don't know, what is he? Some kinda ... hero who dies and disappears afterward only to return to fight another day."

"Lucas!" the other three said in unison.

They soon found themselves, along with many of the others who'd witnessed Henry's death and vanishing, standing at the location of his many arrests for public nudity and watched in hushed disbelief as he sheepishly emerged from behind a bush, alive and already wearing an NYPD sweatsuit and running shoes. He handed a towel he'd used to rub over his damp hair to the man they all knew as his elderly roommate, Abe. The two men walked together to Abe's car but instead of getting in, Henry stood and looked at them with a pained but hopeful look on his face.

Troubled thoughts now ran through their minds laden with deep regret and guilt over that day they'd taunted him in the bullpen and how he'd uttered not a word in his defense or any in retaliation. Finally putting two and two together and realizing for the first time that a death had preceded each of his arrests, they could only look at him now in awe. Unspoken apologies began forming in each of their minds threatening, needing to be spoken aloud.

An apprehensive Abe shut the driver's side door and returned to Henry's side as the group closed in on them. He was ready to fight for his dad. Army Ranger veteran and all. He wasn't going to stand by and let anyone hurt his father or haul him off to a jail cell, or worse, a laboratory. Henry, on the other hand, cast a worried and dejected eye over each of their faces as they slowly drew near. He'd been in this same type of situation before; suffering at the hands of those he'd previously counted as friends or even lovers. Disgusted and appalled after his secret had been revealed to them, they had only sought to harm or destroy him.

Jo was at the forefront of the group and was now closest to him. Her eyes were reddened and puffy from recently shed tears, color reaching her face pale again. As she opened her mouth to speak, Joanna Reece suddenly burst forward from behind her and rushed up to him. Her eyes glistened and her lower lip trembled, detached professionalism abandoned. She grabbed both of his hands with hers and squeezed them tightly.

"Doctor. Dear man," she said in a shaky voice. "You put yourself in harm's way for me."

"Unlike you and others," he began, relaxing a bit into a smile, "I would survive."

"But now your secret is out," she pointed out. "And to so many. What will you do now?"

His eyes roamed over the faces of the group and replied, "It's up to them what I do next." At least no one was arresting him. That was good. What did he see in their eyes, though? Guilt? Maybe ... acceptance? Was it really possible? As remarkable as that seemed to him, there was only one person besides his son, whose opinion mattered right now: Jo. Their gazes met and locked. Reece released her grip on his hands and stepped back, allowing Jo to step in front of him. Neither of them said anything only speaking with their eyes as they grasped each other's hand. She placed her free hand on his cheek, tenderly caressing it. He placed his hand on top of hers, squeezing it. The others, although realizing that this was a private moment, found it hard to look away. They knew that they were witnesses to a miracle. This man had come back from the dead. He'd sacrificed himself for them and actually came back from the dead!

Abe crossed his arms, smiling as he looked at his father and potential stepmother, then away. 'About time, you two,' he thought to himself. But they couldn't stand there all day. Dad was still damp from the river and the breeze off the river was a bit more than nippy.

"Uh, Pops, we'd better be getting home," he said, loud enough for the others to hear and causing them to collectively gasp. Abe turned his attention to them and asked even louder, defiantly, "Anyone got a problem with that? This is my dad and I'm taking him home."

The others converged on the three of them and reached out their hands to pat him on the shoulder or shake his hand. A disjointed chorus of apologies and thank you's rose up from them as Abe once again crossed his arms and smiled. They were going to be okay. Not have to run. Dad was going to be okay.

vvvv

Two days later, Henry and Abe emerged from the elevator, headed to an informative meeting in Lt. Reece's office. As they entered the bullpen, the unis cheerfully greeted them, patting both of them on the arm as they passed by. Jo and Mike came to stand closer to Henry as the unis surrounded Abe and peppered him with questions.

"Are you here to tell everyone your long story?" Jo asked Henry, smiling up at him.

He tilted his head to side, smiling, and with his hands clasped in front of him. "No. It appears that that honor has fallen to my son." He, Jo, and Mike laughed at that as they watched Abe interact with the group. Henry beamed proudly at his son.

"Well, you see, I'm Henry's kid. Yeah. He and Mom adopted me when I was a baby at the end of WW2. Yeah ... "

vvvv vvvv

Notes:

Slight reference to "Forever" TV show episode "The Last Death of Henry Morgan"

S01/E22.

Thank you to Celest38 for allowing me to borrow heavily from "Sand Through the Hourglass", a great Forever one-shot.