It had all happened so quick.
Three men, all dressed in black, wielded bats and crowbars. Despite his best efforts they forced him into the alley and beat him. Blows that connected with his head, chest, torso, took away his ability to scream, to call for help at all. So instead he lied there, in silent agony, and endured the beating. He assumed they must be muggers. He awaited his journey back to life.
But it never came.
Henry's life flashed before his eyes but the cold chill of the East River never came. What happened next was way different than anything he could have imagined.
Henry was transported to a dark space. He identified it as a 'space' instead of a room because it had a floor but it was lacking walls. He blinked and suddenly the space expanded to reveal lights. City lights. He was on top of a building, dry and clothed. Henry's confusion was evident on his face. He was no where near water and his attire had changed. Now, he was wearing a suit vest and dress pants, the same as the first night he had died.
The building was tall and overlooked New York City. Henry stepped away from the ledge he had previously moved closer to in order to calculate his distance from the ground. After looking around for a ladder, or any way of reaching the ground without dying, and not finding one, he sighed in disappointment. He guessed his only option was clear. Henry took a deep breath and jumped, preparing himself for the bone shattering he was seconds away from enduring, but he never met the pavement.
Instead, he was back on the building.
Henry frowned, not liking the state of confusion he was in. Suddenly, a voice called out to him.
"You haven't died enough in one lifetime?" The voice was definitely a man's voice, but it was unrecognizable. Henry jumped at the voice and searched for the source. He narrowed his eyes as he searched the night. Night? When did it become night?
"You're wondering how the day has gone so quick." The voice told him. Henry's attention was brought back to the voice. He was no longer wondering who it was, but how it was he knew what he was thinking. The man behind the voice stepped into the light provided by the building next to them. Henry gasped at the appearance of his old friend who was taken away nearly one hundred years ago.
"James," He greeted him with uncertainty. "What are you doing here? How are you here?" Henry was utterly confused. Consumption did not have a cure the last time Henry saw him, but here he was, alive and breathing. Even if James had survived the disease, he surely wouldn't look as young as he does now.
"Eh, Death was busy." James shrugged.
He stared at Henry as he walked closer to him. Henry watched him warily, not wanting him to get to close.
"Why didn't I come back in water?" And how is it already night? It wasn't even ten when I died." Henry reasoned. James shook his head at Henry's questions. The man truly was clueless.
"Because you didn't come back." James said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Henry's rapid thoughts halted and he looked at his friend in shock. "What?"
James looked over the city. It had changed a lot since 1906, which was to be expected. He couldn't understand why Henry thought of his immortality as a curse. Henry got to watch cities rise from the ground. He watched as the world evolved and grew. How could he think of that as a curse? Of course, he could probably do without his loved ones dying and him being left in the dust.
"You're dead. For real this time." He didn't look at the doctor and prepared himself for Henry's questions. Henry sure was a curious soul, even in life. He was allowed to be curious now, he had died and was in the afterlife, but when he was alive he questioned everything. But what Henry didn't understand is that it wasn't answers that brought knowledge, it was experience. Henry's experience with death made him a great M.E. His ability to identify poisons was a gift he obtained through experience. Death was a gift to Henry, even if he didn't see it that way.
"Dead?" Henry tried to comprehend what the man was telling him but he simply didn't understand. Henry had been dead hundreds of times before, why was it any different now?
"Yes. Your so-called 'curse' has been lifted now." James replied. He looked at Henry as if to gauge his reaction. Even if James couldn't read his mind, it was quite obvious Henry was confused. Suddenly, the confusion was gone. Another emotion was upon him and James smiled. Here comes the fun part. An ability that had been bestowed upon him in death finally had it's time to shine.
"What about Abe?" Henry asked.
James looked back to the city. "It has been a day since your demise and Abraham is in a state of disbelieving." Suddenly they were in front of the East River. On a bench, sat Abraham. He stared at the water in confusion. Henry pitied him and wondered how long he had been there watching for his father who was never to return.
"Abraham being the only one who knows of your condition has been here since he learned of your death. Everyone else believes that this is his way of coping." James said as he looked between father and son."Jo came by and visited him earlier and he even came clean about your immortality. Jo, of course, thought that he was delirious."
Henry held back tears that were fighting to fall. His son was in denial, and he should be. A life of watching his father die and come back has conditioned him to believe that he would die before his father. The definition of immortal, after all, is eternal life. Maybe eternity isn't as long as it is believed to be.
Henry decided that he couldn't watch Abe suffer anymore. "And Jo?" He said, looking away from Abe. Now they were in the precinct, where a sleep-deprived detective stared at the paper in front of her. Henry, now being able to hear thoughts, and being startled by it, jumped as Jo's voice spoke. When he looked at her he discovered that her mouth wasn't moving.
If I had been there I could have stopped it. Henry didn't have to die.
Henry frowned. She shouldn't feel guilt because he didn't fight back. If this had been any other time, she would have never known of his death. They would go on and Jo wouldn't feel guilty.
"Next to Abe, she mourns you the most. You were the person she was closest to after her husband's death. Now she feels as if everyone leaves her to quick. She won't open up to anyone for a long time." James shook his head. Some people got the worst in life and they didn't even deserve it.
"Why does she feel guilty? She is not to blame for my death." Henry asked as he knelt in front of her desk. The paper she was 'working on' was blank. Jo was staring through the paper as her thought consumed her.
It's my fault. It's my job to protect and I let him die.
"That's why. She feels that, as a detective, she should be able to protect the whole city. She knows that isn't her job. She's a detective, not a cop, she solves homicides. She is too hard on herself." James said.
Jo leaned back in her chair and sighed. Henry could sense that her thoughts were confusing to her. She was unable to work. If she was like this after Henry's death, a man she had only met a few months ago and knew next to nothing about, then how was she after her husband's death? How long was it before she had returned to anything close to normal?
"One's thoughts can be dangerous, Henry. Dive to deep and you may never recover. This is why so many people are convinced that life is meaningless and that hope is a lie. This is why people take their own lives. The mind is a dangerous master and I fear that Jo may soon become an example of that."
Henry's breath stopped. In the back of his mind he wondered why his breath could stop but a more important thought pushed the others out of the way.
"Will Jo commit suicide?" Henry watched her. He studied her every small movement and read to closely into everyone. As a doctor, he examined her wrists, but he knew that she wasn't depressed.
"You ask like that because you know I know the future because I'm dead. You are too. You know the answer to that." James told him.
Henry watched Jo. He worried about her and as the scene in front of him changed, he hoped Jo's future wasn't grim.
Now they were in he and Abe's apartment. Henry hated that he had to observe Abe's suffering again. He could hear Abe's every thought and his next ones made Henry angry.
Where else can I look? He's not at the river, or morgue, or precinct and Jo hasn't seen him. There's no way he is really gone.
Henry wanted to tell him that he was gone and that it was okay to let go, but even if he could communicate with Abe, Henry could never find the right words.
Abe's eyes showed many emotions, confusion, sadness, grief, and Henry wished he could banish all of them. Abe was the man that Henry had always wanted him to be. He cared for others, he loved life, and above all else, he was happy and Henry hated to see otherwise. Why did it have to be now that his immortality decided to reverse? The universe had burdened him long ago and Henry learned to live with it. Now fate had decided to take away the thing that allowed Henry to father Abe, and it crushed the both of them.
"Hello, Detective." Henry was shaken out of his haze by his son's distressed voice.
Henry followed Abe's gaze to the door.
"Hello, Abe." Jo smiled sympathetically.
She was familiar with the pain of losing someone, so she knew that Abe needed a friend. Jo walked over to Abe and sat next to him.
"A parent should never outlive their child." Jo said as she studied his face.
Henry almost laughed at the look on Abe's face, but Jo's idea that they were father and son, with Henry taking the role of the latter, made him frown.
"Yes, but I don't see how that's relevant-" Abe stopped. It had hurt enough when everyone thought they were brothers, but now that Abe looked old enough to be Henry's father...
Abe frowned at the detective. "I'm not Henry's father," Abe couldn't meet her eyes when he knew she'd think he had lost his mind. "He's my father."
Jo would have asked him if he was alright, but she was scared of what would happen if she did. So instead, she corrected him, and that might have been worse.
"Abe, he was only thirty-five." Jo hoped this wasn't a warning sign. She hoped he wasn't going crazy. This was just his way of coping and he would get through it.
Abe scoffed. "Give or take a couple hundred years." He took a drink of the wine that Henry hadn't noticed was there.
Jo tried to justify his impossible claims. "You know, when my husband died, I thought I saw him everywhere. I even talked to him. Soon I realized that what I was doing was crazy. You will get through this."
Abe didn't listen. "He would always worry about the day I would die. We both expected me to go first. Of course, he was immortal, so it made sense."
Jo didn't say anything. She didn't know where he got this crazy idea that Henry was immortal, but with the way Abe talked about him, it was scaring her to think that she might believe him. But immortality was impossible. Her rational mind was lost to her, and she was starting to think he wasn't kidding.
"Henry is immortal?" Jo asked and for a moment she almost forgot what that meant.
"Was." Abe corrected her. "Assuming he didn't come back. I'm starting to think he didn't."
"And you are his son." Jo still had a bit of skepticism in her voice, but she was slowly warming up to the idea. Maybe Abe wasn't crazy. It sure explained a lot: his non-existent self preservation, his knowledge of death and well, everything. It seemed there was nothing he didn't know.
"I'm his son." Abe confirmed. He watched her, looking for any signs that she might believe him. Surely she wouldn't ask these questions if she didn't believe him, right?
Jo nodded, taking the information in. If what he was saying as true, then where was Henry? Something must have gone wrong for Abe to act like this.
Abe smiled. The possibility of having one other person in the world knowing didn't sound like a bad idea.
Henry felt the tension leave him as Jo smiled back at his son. She accepted the fact that he was immortal. When Abe first told her of Henry's never ending life, he feared the worst for his son. Now, he was ashamed that he ever thought Jo could put him in an insane asylum, much like he once was.
As Abe retold Henry's story to Jo, the antique shop faded and they were back on the sky rise they started on.
"They talk into the early morning hours and Jo believes him." Henry almost forgot James was there.
Henry didn't respond. He was glad that his son found someone that he may come to trust.
James turned to him. "Death isn't as glorious as you think. Sure, there's no pain or suffering but when the people you love are back down there, it's lonely. You spent your time in a basement, trying to figure out how to die. But you don't want to die, you just want a reason to live."
Henry knew he was right. Sometimes he thought his immortality was a curse but even he knew it had it's perks. He never had to worry about missing out on Abe's life, he gained endless knowledge in his years and he should be thankful for it.
"Why did we leave?" Henry asked.
"Because it's time for you to go." James responded.
"Go where?" James shook his head again because Henry really didn't get it. Henry was meticulous and observant yet he still didn't see what was right in front of him.
"You are not in the afterlife yet. That is where you are going. It is time to meet the ones you have loved and lost." Suddenly, a bright light shone next to them and Henry shielded his eyes from the blinding white that shone through.
It turns out, paradise does exist.