Two Can Keep a Secret
By: Riley
Summary – Short one-shot set directly after my story 'Stranger like Me'. Henry was told a big secret and now he wants to return the favor.
A/N: I still plan on doing a sequel to Stranger like Me, guys; I'm just working out what the plot would be. So while we wait for that, I have this one-shot that I've been meaning to do for forever. Thanks for the reviews asking about a sequel, guys. It means a lot. :)
"Why are you wet?"
It should've been a very easy question to answer. He could've just gotten out of the shower, gotten sprayed by some water that flew over him when a car drove by on the sidewalk, that he had gotten hit by dirty water that someone had dumped over the side of the balcony. But, he couldn't think of an answer that wouldn't bring it back to his being immortal. For the first time, he was stumped and not because he was afraid of what Sydney's' reaction would be, but because he was afraid of how easily Sydney could tell if he was lying.
The Australian boy was a lot like Henry in many ways; the slight bit of arrogance that came with his perceptiveness and intuition. The only difference was that he didn't have the same sort of abilities that Henry did, only able to do it from his smarts and higher intelligence, not from having lived for over two hundred years.
Now that the teen sat in the seat of the interrogation room across from Henry, he raised an eyebrow. "It's a simple question, Henry. If I thought it would be that difficult to answer, I wouldn't have asked."
Henry gave a wry smile but didn't respond. He needed to change the subject, that way he would have a good excuse for Jo as she would, no doubt, wonder what happened to him at the crime scene with Robert. It wouldn't be long until the man was being brought into the station to be charged and questioned and that process. He needed to focus on what was going to happen to Sydney now.
If what he boy was saying was true, and Henry didn't doubt him, then they needed to find his family in Australia and have them sent out to not only reunite him with them, but also so that they could answer questions that would determine whether or not Robert would be charged through a set of trials. If the evidence held up. As sad as it was, Henry had seen many child abuse cases that fell through or didn't have the sort of consequences that were expected to come from the brutality of the pain.
"Yes, but I don't believe it has a simple answer," Henry admitted.
He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat as Sydney's expression screwed up once more. His dark blue eyes bored into the man as he looked away, trying to find the thing that was keeping him from opening up completely. The same boy that had walked into his medical examiner's office and pointed out what it was that had caused the death of one patient, the same boy that showed he understood Henry in the same ways that Henry could see and understand everyone around him without them knowing how he did it.
"What's wrong?" Sydney asked. "Your face…it just made a distinct change, yeah?" Eyes narrowing, he leaned forward as he continued to study the older man, who stared hard at the boy, hoping to keep his face as neutral as possible. "Did something happen with Robert?"
If you consider getting shot in the middle of the chest something happening, Henry thought. He didn't get a chance to answer as the door to the interrogation room opened and Jo strode inside, her eyes set on Sydney. They flashed with irritation, anger, and most of all confused worry.
"Detective Martinez," he greeted her.
"Dr. Morgan," She replied shortly. Then, crossing her arms, she snapped. "What the hell happened to you? You got shot and I turned around and you were gone."
Sydney's eyes widened. "Shot? Robert shot you?"
Henry held up his hands. "Please don't misunderstand, Detective, but I'm alright." He brought a hand up to his chest, feeling the area that the bullet had broken through the flesh before. A scar had almost immediately popped up. "I was shot, but I wasn't hurt. You see, I was wearing a bullet proof vest as I wasn't sure what sort of situation I would be walking into." He motioned towards her. "Especially after the last few times you have…expressed your worries about me running into a crime scene along with you."
Cocking an eyebrow, Detective Martinez watched Henry for a long moment. "Please, Henry. The next time listen to what I have to tell you. If I want you to stay outside, or stay out of the way as I'm not sure if there will be any sort of danger placed upon you, just do it." She ran a hand through her hair. "It's hard enough that you keep darting off like a little kid with a very tiny attention span, but I'm not going to give you a gun and if you do, you'll just make my job a lot harder."
Now a slightly amused smile slid onto her face as she reached out and placed her hand on Henry's shoulder. "Don't do it again," she said to him.
"I promise, Detective, that next time I'll listen to whatever you tell me," he said. Detective Martinez nodded and glanced at Sydney, who nodded, before she left the room. Henry turned back to the Australian boy as he watched her leave the room.
As soon as the door was closed, Sydney turned back to Henry with narrowed eyes. "You're lying." He said it so bluntly that Henry was actually startled. Not only had he not anticipated the word to drop so casually, but he didn't think Sydney would call him out on it in a matter of seconds after his conversation had ended. "You lied to Detective Martinez about wearing a bullet proof vest," he remarked. "I could see it in your face. Not only that, but your breathing hitched when she came storming through the door as if you knew you had to make a quick excuse." He then crossed his arms. "And if you weren't wearing a bullet proof vest but had been shot, why aren't you dead?" He held up a hand. "Or bleeding for that matter, mate."
Henry let out a long breath, closing his eyes. He slowly sat down in the seat that he had sprung out of when Detective Martinez had entered. What was he going to do now?
"When you were speaking to her, you moved your hand to your chest, as if that was where you were shot. And if you were, then you would most certainly be dead by now. A bullet to the chest is something that'll almost certainly kill you, especially as your lungs would collapse and you'd either be hit directly in the heart or have it grazed. At that trajectory, considering how tall you are compared to Robert, then you'd certainly have gotten your heart grazed. Even if you weren't shot in the heart, even if your bloody heart hadn't been touched, the way your body would go into shock as well as the foreign body aspect in general would most certainly kill you. If not have you be placed in a medical induced coma for a long time. And…it doesn't appear that you went to the hospital either, judging by Detective Martinez's reaction to seeing you."
Henry licked his lips for a moment. "Well, you see—"
"You didn't want her to worry, so you lied. Because you have the hots for her don't you?" Sydney interrupted. A wide, inappropriate smile slid onto his face, dimples appearing in his cheeks.
Now Henry's eyes widened in surprise, but not for the reason he was expecting. "Excuse me?" He asked voice going a bit higher pitched than he thought was possible. "Detective Martinez and I are strictly co-workers. We help each other on mysterious cases and—
"And you have the hots for her," Sydney interrupted. "I can tell. You act differently whenever she's around. And then the way that you two look at each other." He paused. "There's some hesitation, I can understand that, she might be able to crack your bloody head open by one squeeze of her knees around your neck. But there's something going on there."
An amused smile slid onto Henry's face as he listened to the instance that Sydney put into his words. He certainly was aware that Henry was keeping something from him, but he had jumped to the wrong conclusion. A very wrong conclusion. Besides, she was still grieving over the death of her husband, anyone could see that. It wouldn't be the right time, and who knew if she was ready to date again…
Henry shook his head. It's not the right time to think about that. He glanced over at Sydney and saw that the smile had turned to a smirk, as if he could read Henry's mind.
"Nothing, I assure you, is going on."
"Then what's going on?"
"How were you able to afford that antique mirror?" It may have sounded like a strange way to change the subject, but he needed to see what Sydney's answer would be. If he were truthful…then he truly did trust Henry and he needed to do the same.
Shifting in his seat, Sydney thought for a moment before admitting, "I paid for it with the money I got from my inheritance," he said. "My parents…they died when I was very young and they had a big fortune. Not only was my Dad a rocket scientist,"—he smiled at Henry's obvious surprise—"I know, it truly does explain my smarts. But my mum also helped out with his research as well as making some money for her own. Robert knew that, when having heard about our past when we were put into foster care, and basically exploited it, as he was the one that then put in charge of controlling it." He waved a hand. "I don't know how, really. But as soon as we turn eighteen we each get our cut of the money, which is also why he wanted to hold onto me for so long. Since I still have a few years to go and my siblings filed for emancipation, he took me and left Australia as quickly as he could.
"Technically I'm not supposed to be able to touch my inheritance, but I've saved my money for a long time, any money I could get my hands on. I was going to use it to get a plane ticket and fly back home before Robert realized I was gone. But then I met you, saw the antique shop, saw the same mirror of my Mum's that my brothers and I broke, and knew I had to buy it." He shrugged. "So I bought it."
Henry leaned forward, resting his face in his hands. Part of him hoped that Sydney would've lied about the mirror, but he could see, judging by his body language and the earnest expression on his face that Sydney had, indeed, been telling the truth.
Now it was his turn.
He took a deep breath. "The reason…that I hadn't been injured after being shot…why I'm so wet…is because…I'm immortal." There was a brief silence in the room as soon as the last word came out of his mouth and he looked over at Sydney, who stared at him. "I cannot die," he explained. "No matter what happens to me, I will die—"
"You just said that you can't die, mate," Sydney pointed out.
"I can die, but then I come back to life in the nearest body of water. In my case it's the East River," Henry explained. He motioned to his now damp, but quickly drying hair. "Because I can't die…I've been alive for over two hundred years. I've seen and experienced so many things…"
"…and that's how you're able to determine the cause of death of nearly everyone that comes your way, and for the past few cases that you've had come through the NYPD," Sydney remarked, eyes widening. "That makes a lot of sense."
Henry frowned. "You believe me?"
"I don't know any other explanation that would make as much sense, especially as I don't think anyone could even come up with a lie like that." He paused. "So Detective Martinez doesn't know? I'd expect that your father does."
"Actually…Abe is my son. It's a long story, but I trust that you can keep this a secret for me. For the past 200 years I've been searching for an explanation as to what I can do. I can't risk any others that I don't trust to find out about me or my past, so I implore that you try your best to keep my secret."
"No worries, mate, I'll keep it." Sydney then leaned forward and smiled, his eyes flashing. "As soon as you admit that you have a thing for Detective Martinez."
THE END
