It was never simple any more.
Henry Deacon gloried in complexity, in the endless surprising puzzles of science. He was surrounded by complex people, each locked into their own detailed worlds. Perhaps only Allison noticed how different he was, how he danced in and out of all the glorified cubicles Global Dynamics had to offer, not chained down to one pet theory or all-consuming project.
Watching the shadow of his best friend move across the floor and out the door of his shop, Henry felt entirely consumed. Guilt at stealing anyone's memories – as his Kim had had so many of hers stolen. Gnawing bitter anger that felt like a volcano on the Ring of Fire, power enough to rage for centuries… thousands of years… epochs even… Grief that felt like emptiness, and how could something that felt like a lack, like a dry well, also feel like a crushing sea? Grief that keened and wept and beat useless wings against the bars of the cage in his mind. He could not turn it loose. He must sort out all of the emotions as he would sort out his tools, then carefully, dispassionately, shut the door on them.
Hate. Love. How could you hold these feelings so strongly for the same person? He could have killed Jack for tackling him before he could save Kim. He could have killed him in the moment but never after, and something in his heart twists at that knowledge.
Hate. Love. So he chose. Somewhere out there, there existed a foe Henry was free to hate. That left love for simple Jack Carter. An uneasy friendship, for who could think with the weight of words unspoken poised to fall over their heads? But it always took Jack a little while to remember to look up. For Henry Deacon, nothing was forgotten.