Okay, so, my lovelies, I promise you I haven't died and I haven't forgotten about you all! I am still working on chapter one of my new multichapter fic (working title, "The Hardest Cases) but I'm a tad blocked, so I wrote out this idea to give you something to hold you over! I suggest, to understand this a *little* better, you should read one of my other one-shots, Ticklish. But other than that, this is stand-alone. Enjoy!

*DISCLAIMER* RV makes no claim to own Forever or its characters. They are the property of Mathew Miller and ABC. No profit is made from this writing.

Ever since the moment he realized that the tiny bundle in his arms was, in fact, destined to be his son, Henry Morgan knew he was setting himself up for the greatest loss he would ever experience. Greater than the betrayal of the wife he loved. Greater than the slow, untimely death of his best friend. Deep down, he knew that one day he would lose his child and it would tear him apart.

And then he was gifted two more children. He knew one day he would lose them too. And like the looming mortality of his elder son, it also haunted him.

But he had always expected to lose Abraham first. Never once did he expect things to happen like this.

Things had seemed to slow down around Henry when the attacker appeared out of the shadows around Abe's antique store. It was night and the three Morgans had been about to enter the store, Abby going through the rings on the keys to find the correct one, when her father had paused mid-sentence in his good natured debate with both his children on the importance of jazz as an American art form. The dark-haired, twenty-something woman had turned to see what had happened, when her eyes fell on the darkly dressed figure with something pressed into Abe's back.

"If you are really a big enough loser to shoot an old man," Abe said, voice still dripping with his usual sarcasm despite his age, "do it already."

"Abraham," Henry said in a biting tone before turning his eyes to the the attacker. "What do you want?" he asked the man, fear evident in his voice as he eyed the weapon- a pistol- in his hand.

"I want you, Dr. Morgan," he responded. Henry tried to see if he could recognize the voice, but it was only vaguely familiar, and his face was obscured by the darkness. "I know who you are. And I know the way to you is through the people you care about."

Henry was about to readily offer himself up in exchange for Abe's safety, but the shadowy figure raised his gun up towards the back of his head.

"No!" Abby cried, taking a step forward. "Don't hurt him! If you are going to take anyone, it's me."

Henry stared in surprise at his daughter, a look shared by Abraham. "Abigail! That's not necessary! Just take me. Do not hurt anyone."

"Oh, it's very necessary, Doctor." There was a smirk in the man's voice. "I don't want to take you, I want to hurt you." He pressed the barrel of the gun to the back of Abe's head, but Abby leaped forward and grabbed for the weapon, pulling it towards her.

A shot sounded, and Abby Morgan staggered back.

As suddenly as the man had appeared, he was gone.

"Abby!" Henry cried. "Abigail, oh, Abigail!" He rushed to his daughter, lowering her slowly to the ground, hands hovering over the hole in her stomach that was quickly saturating her clothes with blood.

"D-dad," she stuttered, pressing her own hands against the wound. "Abe? A-Abe, are you okay?"

The elderly man knelt down beside her with the creek of arthritis-ridden joints, intense worry clouding his features. "I'm fine. I'm here. Henry?" he looked up to his father, an unspoken question on his face.

The doctor tore his scarf off his neck and applied pressure to the gushing injury without answering.

"Abby," Abe said, brushing the curly hair back from her face, "Why did you do that? You shouldn't of. There's no need to save me when you've got your whole life ahead of you."

"You promised..." she said weakly, wincing, "that you'd dance with me... at my wedding. I'm sorry I'm going to... break it anyway. 'Sides, wise old man once told me... it's something special to... die for what's important to you." Abe smiled sadly at her.

"No, Abigail Estrella Morgan," Henry said sternly, "you are going to be fine."

She shook her head. "My father's a doctor. I know I'm not going to make it." As if to solidify her words, she coughed a bit and a trickle of blood fell from the corner of her mouth. "Could... c-could you..." she trailed off, struggling to form the words as she gripped at Henry's hands.

"What, my dear?" he asked softly, just noticing the tears streaming from his eyes.

"Ask... Sean... take care of..." as her words tapered off into little more than labored breaths, Henry leaned in to hear what she wanted him to tell her twin brother. "Of Abe, 'n Dad."

"I will, Abby," Henry said, holding back the sobs he knew were coming. "I will." He felt as if his heart were being shredded as he watched the life leave her eyes. He wanted to scream.

But then her body vanished in a shimmering wave of light.

Henry's eyes widened and he just stared for a long moment at where his daughter had been only a heartbeat before. He then turned his gaze to Abe. "Did that really just happen, Abraham?"

"Either it did or I'm finally going senile in my old age," he responded, beginning to struggle to his feet. Henry got up immediately and helped his son. "Are you driving, or am I?"

"I think it's better if I do," Henry admitted. "Do you still keep clothes and towels in there? Because, if she did indeed reawaken, she will need it."

"Of course, old habits die hard."

"Do you see her, Abraham?" Henry questioned worriedly as he exited the car, eyes scanning the water. He wasn't used to being on this side of this rescue, and it had been quite a while since he had died in New York. His hands twisted the large towel nervously until he saw a feminine figure climb out of the black water. He didn't hesitate in sprinting towards her.

He wrapped the towel around her shivering body and pulled her into a tight embrace in one motion. He kissed her forehead and her wet hair repeatedly, stumbling over his tearful words of how he thought he'd lost her.

She squeezed him back, burying her face against his chest. "I'm fine. Dad, I'm okay," she assured both him and herself. When she pulled away she tightened the towel around her, and Henry ushered her back towards the car. Abe was standing outside it when they got there, and Abby practically fell into his arms as well.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again, kiddo," Abe said, voice thick with emotion as he pushed her back enough to look in her face. "Now go, get in. There's some clothes in there for you."

The young woman nodded and climbed into the back of the car. She was quickly followed by Henry and Abe, and she looked in them at surprise. "These are Dad's clothes."

"Of course," Abe answered. "You know I always keep those back there when Henry's around because you never know when he's going to decide to get hit by a car."

"We wanted to get here quickly," Henry explained. "I apologize for not bringing your own attire. Hopefully mine will do until we get home."

Abby was already pulling on the dark pants and buttoning up the crisp, white shirt. She even put on his coat and wrapped the provided scarf around her neck, partially covering her face. "Could you turn up the heat? I'm freezing."

After that was done, the car fell into a long silence as the woman stared out the window at the city passing around her. "Dad?" she finally spoke, and Henry looked at her in the rear view mirror,.

"Yes, Abby?"

"Does this mean that I'm," she paused, swallowing and rubbing subconsciously at the spot on her abdomen where she had received the fatal wound, "like you?"

Henry spared another glance back, this time turning to meet her eyes. "It seems that way, Abigail. I believe you are immortal."

Random baddie is random. Adam wouldn't fit with this so I made something else up, so I don't really know anything about him. (Though, knowing me, I'll come up with something and develop it.) Please, review, they mean so much more than fav-follow-run!