Disclaimer: The concept, canon, and canon characters belong to Forever creator Matt Miller and Warner Bros. Studios. All other characters, the plot for the story, and Henry's flashbacks are my own creation. I have posted my story here, and I don't profit from it. (Translation: I don't own Forever, but if I did, we would get to see something like this.)
Author's Note: This story came to me right before I started to work on a(nother!) novel-length fan fic. I hope you will enjoy it.
(P.S. If you see a story named "Son Refuge Sur", it's the French translation of this one. I fell in love with the French language back in high school, but I didn't study it until I stumbled upon the French fan fics here and upon Duolingo on the web. Since I've started my studies, I've wanted to write a one-shot in French. I had thought of translating "Light in the Darkness" last year. I, however, chickened out due to the medical vocabulary needed to write from Henry's point-of-view. This one was a bit easier to translate, so I went for it.)
The corner of the shop emerged from the busy intersection just as Jo had begun to think that she would never arrive home. She smiled at the golden letters and the ship silhouette glistening under the street lights. After the long day that she had had, all she wanted to do was to get a bite to eat and to find some rest and comfort.
And to check on Henry. During a re-enactment with Lucas at the OCME the week before, her slightly accident-prone husband had managed to fall off a clean autopsy table and break his ankle. Instead of slipping some aconite into his tea to recover immediately, Henry had chosen to endure the pain and misery of wearing a cast and using crutches like everyone else. Since it was his first time with this type of injury in more than a century, Jo had found herself waiting for either Abe's call saying that his father was in the river again or the unis parading him through the bullpen to Lt. Reece's office.
Jo unlocked the door, stepped inside, checked the sign, and flipped the lock. She wove her way around the tables filled with Henry's souvenirs from his travels and Abe's various finds from estate sales. Once she reached Abe's desk, she slowly spun around and took in everything. It was still hard to believe that it had been four years since she had stepped up to Henry's autopsy table for the first time. Three years since he had told her that he was immortal. Two years since he had swept her off her feet and had taken her on their much-talked about romantic trip to Paris. One and a half years since she had accepted his proposal. One year since their wedding in Central Park with Abe, Lucas, Mike and Karen, Lt. Reece, and her mother and sister as witnesses.
She laid her hand gently on her abdomen. She had been feeling nauseous lately, and she had been more moody than usual. Was there a chance that she could be pregnant with their first biological child?
The smell of Abigail's lasagna, Abe's garlic bread, and Sean's chocolate chip cookies wafted down to the shop. Jo eased through the double doors and, feeling a little more energized, she climbed up the stairs. They, and likely a salad and some wine, would a perfect way to wind down for the night.
The moment she crossed the landing and into the kitchen, Abe appeared in the corner of her eye. She smiled. If someone were to have told her that she would be a seventy-three-year-old man's stepmother, she would have never believed them. From the first time that she had seen Henry and Abe playing chess, though, she could feel a pull toward him, almost like the universe or fate had intended for her to care for him as though he were her own son.
Abe pulled off his oven mitts and popped his head up. "Hey, Jo, how was work?"
She set her purse on the island and huffed. "I'd rather not say."
"One of those days that you would rather talk about it with Pops." He hung the mitts on the hook.
"Yeah." She peered toward the bedrooms. "How was he today?"
Abe scoffed. "He kept trying to call Lucas to see if he could bring over a sample of some tissues from your victim. I finally had to disconnect the phone and hide the cell phone from him. You can imagine how upset he was when he found out. Or when I suggested that he spend the rest of the day reading."
Jo laughed at the image of Henry giving his son one of his murderous glares. "He's ready to go back to work, huh?"
Abe nodded, turned to the cabinets, and pulled out a couple of plates. "Be glad you weren't living here when he was autopsying rats in our basement. If it weren't for Marco's call…."
The sights and sounds of their most recent case flashed before her. Jo closed her eyes in an attempt to erase them from her mind. "Abe, don't remind me of that now."
He pulled his lips together. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize…."
She waved a hand in the air. "Don't worry about it. You'll find out later."
"Are you hungry?"
She peeked at the food laid out and ready to head to the table. As the mouthwatering smells filled her nose, her eyelids grew heavy.
She patted Abe on the shoulder. "Maybe later. I'll warm it up in the oven if I want some."
He studied her expression. The next thing she knew, he wrapped his arms around her. "Whatever happened, you'll be okay. You're a strong woman, and you have Pops to support you."
She returned his embrace. You too, Abe. You too.
She closed her eyes and soaked in Abe's support. He didn't know how badly she needed it.
A few moments later, she remembered their breakfast conversation and pulled away. "Aren't you going to be late for your date with Fawn tonight?"
"Thanks for reminding me." He marched over to the living room, jerked his coat off the table, and slipped it on. "I'll be back early. She's taking care of her grandsons tomorrow, and she doesn't want to be half asleep when they come."
Jo caught his eyes. "Have fun at the movies."
"Have fun dealing with Pops." Abe gave Jo a grin before easing around her on his way out.
She hoisted the lasagna off the island and put it in the refrigerator. Sometimes Abe acted more like a teenager than a senior citizen. She couldn't see how Henry could keep up with him at the "ripe old" age of 238.
Several scenarios raced through her mind. She opened her mouth. What if…?
She leaned around the railing. "Don't do anything your father and I wouldn't do!"
The only response was the bell over the shop's door jingling. She shook her head. Abe was exactly like his adopted father. Both men had the tendency to ignore her whenever they wanted. In Henry's case, though, he was frequently following a lead that only he could find. With Abe, it was an entirely different story.
Her weariness grew stronger. She finished putting away the rest of the food, found her purse, and headed for the bedroom. She hoped that Henry could give her some comfort before the day was over.
Jo entered the bedroom, gingerly shut the door behind her, and laid her purse and cell phone on the drawers beside Henry's pocket watch. As much as she wanted a plate of food, she was too tired to eat.
The room was uncharacteristically quiet. She glanced in the mirror to see if Henry was all right. She bit back her smile as she saw his book's reflection.
She strolled over to the bed. Henry's head rested on a couple of pillows. His book had fallen to his bare chest, his eyes having ignored it and sliding shut long ago.
She gently tugged the book out of his hand and closed it. Curious as to what he was reading, she turned it over. Her lips lifted up, and she bit back her laugh. Pride and Prejudice. She had known that he had read it long ago when it was the talk of London, but she never imagined that he had a copy on his shelves.
She opened the cover, and her jaw fell open. He had bought it when the book had first come out. She wrinkled her eyebrows. She didn't remember seeing it on the shelves, and he hadn't said anything about owning a copy. Was this a recent discovery among Abe's finds?
She laid it on her end table, careful to not wake him up. She didn't know if she should read it herself or convince him to watch the BBC version on her laptop. Either way, it would give them something good to talk about.
Feeling her legs threatening to give out from under her, Jo climbed into bed. Henry, almost sensing her presence, turned over onto his side. His eyes fluttered open, yet they didn't focus fully on her. She smiled as she met his gaze.
"How was work today?" His voice dripped with sleep.
"I'll tell you in the morning." She smiled at him. "Go back to sleep."
He obediently closed his eyes. Her lips parted. She still could not believe how much influence she had over him. From the moment that he had laid eyes on her, he was always willing to do anything for her. Even to the extent of revealing his true self to protect her.
Her fingers found his scar, and they traced a path along the ancient wound. Her heart quickened with each pass. She was lucky that he didn't die for all eternity that fateful day. She could not imagine her life without him.
The case passed before her eyes. Although he was asleep, she broke her gaze and studied the small space between them. She, Mike, and Lieu had recently found the body of a young widow, a detective with the white collar crimes unit, not far from the apartment where she was last seen. They had initially suspected that the man with whom she had left a nearby bar had killed her in frustration. When she told Henry about the case, he had suggested that the woman had drunk herself to death and that she had collapsed outside the building as she was leaving. Today's interviews with the other detective's parents and sister had convinced her that Henry was right.
Jo took a deep breath. Their victim could have been her years ago. Back then, she had missed Sean so much that she had spent countless nights trying to drown the pain of losing him or wanting the comfort of being in someone's arms for the night. It had grown to the point where Mike warned her to talk to someone about her grief. To come over and spend time with him and Karen. To do something other than the path that she was on.
She, however, ignored him. He didn't know what he was talking about. He was married. He had kids. He did not know the pain of coming home to an empty house. To no one to talk to about the rough day that he had had. To feel that the world was doing everything in its power to destroy him.
Not wanting to lose herself in the memories, she found her husband. Her jaw dropped again as the ones from the past four years flashed before her. She had long thought that she had spent their first two years together nursing him back to emotional health. While she had been focused on him, though, he had saved her from herself and had protected her from her negative tendencies.
Henry slipped his arm over her waist. His warmth flowed into her, melting all of the tension that she didn't know she had. She smiled and rested her hand on his chest. She didn't know how, but he always seemed to know what she needed.
He snuggled closer to her, and his cast brushed against her leg. She closed her eyes. As she drifted off to sleep, she knew that, with him, she would always be safe.
Author's Note: It's a little fluffy and quite a bit shorter (for me), I know. I, however, noticed that I haven't done a married Jenry fic before. This was a fun one to write. Fun fact: The second half of this story, up until Jo's thoughts, is the first thing that I had thought of. Everything else just flowed from it.
The reason why I say two years of Jo nursing Henry back to health: In my head canon for this story, there is some fallout from his revelation to her at the beginning of Season 2. They realize that they both need to adjust to her knowledge of his condition. It takes them another year to fully rebuild what they have right before Adam's confession in "The Night in Question"…and then some. By the time Season 3 starts, the Henry in Season 1 would not recognize the guy who returns from Paris with Jo if they were to meet.