Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

AN: This is a continuation of Samsquatch67's story Life in a Fishbowl, specifically Chapter Three. Also, inspired by VanillaJ1967's review on that chapter. I don't think reading the story is necessary to understand this one, but just a warning.

Henry entered Abe's shop, calling out to his son as he made his way over to his desk. He took off his coat and hung it up, carrying his scarf to the sink to rinse away the remains of vomit on it. He could hear Abe coming down the stairs behind him, and he smiles softly.

"Henry. You're back early."

The doctor nodded. "Yes. I met someone at the park and came home afterward to clean my scarf."

"That explain the smell then," Abe muttered as he poured a cup of coffee for his father. "Who did you meet that you let get sick on your scarf?"

Henry hesitated before answering. "A young man named Jerry, single father of two children."

"Oh. And the scarf?"

"He suffered a panic attack and made himself sick in the process. I was there to help calm him and my scarf was the most available material to substitute for a napkin or washcloth." He wrung out his scarf and carried it to the washing machine to be cleaned thoroughly later.

Abe moved to the sitting room and called after Henry, "And how did you know him before?"

The doctor returned to the sitting room. "Why do you assume that I knew him?"

"It's in your mannerisms, voice, words..." Abe gestured at his father. "Well?"

Henry moved to his desk and began shifting through the papers. "It's a long story..."

Abe looked at him, not changing his mind.

"Very well." Henry sat down with a sigh. "I met him last night, on the street."

"You met him on the street – he killed you?"

Henry nodded.

"And you helped him? Are you going to call the police?"

"And tell them what? That I was murdered? Abe, please. They think I am 'creepy' now; that would do nothing to improve relations."

"So you're just going to do...nothing? Just let him go free?"

"Well, I gave him something to help the children..."

Abe stared at his father. "This man brutally murdered you and you're going to let him go scot-free – no, you're going to give him money?"

"Abraham. He was desperate, and sorry. He didn't do it for himself, but for his children."

"So you would murder for me?" When Henry hesitated to answer the question, Abe rushed on. "No. Don't answer that."

"Abraham – he was terrified. To have thrown him away now would do nothing save ruin the children. Giving him a second chance is the better way, and he will not squander it."

"Well, what about the mother? The children can stay with her – they shouldn't be with a man who would do something like that to an absolute stranger."

Henry sighed. "She was dead, probably for less than a year; and the children are too young to look after themselves. They still need a parent's love and guidance."

"Fine. But what about your secret? And how do you know he won't kill again?"

"I don't know that, but I am fairly certain."

Abe tried again to convince his father. "Henry! He murdered you! In cold blood, with no motive other than greed. And you're just going to forgive him? Let him go? Henry, he doesn't deserve that!"

The doctor sighed, leaning forward on his desk. "Abe, does anyone deserve forgiveness, mercy?"

"Of course! Some people do, and other don't."

"Abe, if it was deserved, then it wouldn't be mercy. If it were deserved, then it wouldn't be grace. Everyone deserves one chance, but some need a second try. Yes, I forgave him; and no, he didn't deserve it – but that doesn't make a difference. You think that I made a mistake, and perhaps I did. But I do not think I did – he will raise his children with new appreciation and wisdom, and he will learn from his mistake."

Abe frowned, but the surrendered with a sigh. "Oh, fine. You're right, of course. But I don't think I could have forgiven him."

Henry smiled, returning to his papers on his desk. "Perhaps not. But if we are ever to make an error in judgment, may it always be on the side of mercy."

AN: Apologies if Abe seems off - I still cannot write him, but he was the only character this scene would work with. Thank you to Samsquatch67 for permission to continue this. Gramercy! Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! God bless!