Disclaimer: Still don't own the characters from Forever, and don't expect to. I write this for my own enjoyment

Summary so far… Henry tells Jo his secret

Author's note: Bold is used to indicate flashbacks

Starting Over: Chapter 2

Jo Martinez stood before her mirror holding her favourite crewneck blue sweater up to her. "It's Henry. Just Henry," she reminded herself for the umpteenth time. Except that it wasn't. The Henry she was seeing this afternoon was 235 years old, had seen and done thing she might never fully comprehend. She tugged the sweater over her head; it was cozy, fit her like a suit of armor. It was protection from…

"Quit it Jo. You've dealt with Henry daily for the last year. Besides, there isn't anything else he can tell you to top that is there?" She told herself. Her buzzer went, she peeped the eye hole. There he stood handsome as ever, scarf wrapped around his neck brandishing a bouquet of tulips.

She opened the door: "I'll put this in water." He followed her in waiting silently in the doorway. Jo felt his eyes tracing her movements as she filled the vase with water, and arranged the flowers. She knew she was taking longer than necessary. On their way through the hallway Jo grabbed her keys, and jacket and they were out on the sidewalk.

They'd walked a few blocks before she spoke: "Where were you born?"

"London. Mayfair to be precise. My father was one of the city's more prosperous merchants. I was his heir; the only son. He gave me the best tutors in maths, English, history, literature. He was training me to carry on the business. He wanted me to be the cultured son, but I ended up being a little more idealistic, and outspoken than he intended."

Jo smiled. "At last we have something in common. I was described by high-school teachers as 'strong-willed.'

"I can easily see that," he replied, eyes twinkling.

They arrived at a quiet café, and Henry held the door open for her granting him a smile. They chose a secluded table, and he held her chair out for her. They ordered their drinks, and pastries settling into armchairs. Henry looked like he belonged here.

"He became a slave trader." A statement.

"Yes. I found out by accident. He sent me aboard ship as his representative. I was about to start my second year of schooling to become a doctor."

Henry knocked twice, and was ordered to enter. Edward Morgan stood behind his desk speaking with his associate. Seeing the visitor was his son he motioned to the other man to leave. Edward sighed, trying to forestall what was coming: "It's a better life for them son."

"To have their lives sold as nothing; to be forced to work as a slaves for other men. How would you feel if it were you?" Henry asked

Edward nudged a ledger toward his son, and Henry picked it up scanning the figures: "There are ways to make-up the differences here. We don't have to do it" Henry insisted.

Edward slowly shakes his head: "No Henry. I've checked; done them over, and over again. This is it."

Henry stood for a moment stunned by the turn of events. "May I have permission to go aboard as a doctor? Make sure conditions are suited?"

"I had planned on that Henry. It would be as my agent." Edward instructed. Henry nodded, and withdrew.

The story stopped, and Jo looked at him watching the fear and uncertainty playing on his face. How long had it been since he re-told this story? She folded, and re-folded her napkin wanting to show a sign of confidence. If he was sharing his life's story, she would too. "I have a baby sister; Elaine. Lainey for short. She was hit by a distracted driver while playing in front of our house; she's paralyzed from the waist down. We never caught the guy. It's why I became a cop."

Jo started to make more sense to Henry. Her drive came from a personal place; the need to protect human life. He smiled recalling the lectures she gave about putting himself in danger.

A small nod; he'd finish the story. "I boarded the ship and all seemed in order. The cells were cramped as on all merchant ships. Food wasn't always plentiful leading to starvation, and dehydration."

Henry grabbed onto the wall as the ship lurched in the wind. There was a storm coming; he could hear the rain begin pelting the wooden deck. Groans assaulted his ears from the cells. He knew the problem with only a glance at distended bellies. The more he mentioned it, the more it was shrugged off. Sailors shoved him aside and opened the cell in front of him. The man went limp between his captors; no strength or will to respond.

Henry followed the trio on-deck, watching as the guards moved off to the side. Without the support the man dropped to his knees gasping in the humid wind. The captain circled the prisoner picking one arm up to examine it.

"It's not any kind of plague affecting these prisoners. It's simple malnutrition, and dehydration. If they had enough food and water…" Henry was cut off as one guards came forward putting his firearm to the slave's temple. The sound of the gunshot echoed.

"Let this be a warning to you Henry Morgan." Henry's anger bubbled over as he stood in front of the captain.

"My father would've ordered enough supplies for the voyage." The captain looked at Henry, a mocking smile on his face. "He didn't." Henry took an involuntary step backwards. A crowd gathered to watch him as he opened his mouth, and closed it again. A second prisoner was shoved to the forefront; Henry collected enough of his wits to step in front of the trio.

"Move aside boy or you'll find yourself with this man's bullet in ye." The Captain said placing his gun above his heart. Henry didn't flinch; his glare daring the other man to pull the trigger.

He did.

"My life literally flashed before my eyes." Henry started, sub-consciously putting a hand to his chest as if to comfort himself the scar was still there. He closed his eyes lost in the moment. Jo grabbed the other one squeezing it, hoping to ground him in the present.

The feeling of warmth spread throughout his body as he clasped his hands on his chest. They came away sticky, and red. His vision narrowed as he fell. The last thing he remembered was the Captain's face. Briefly he wondered what explanation they'd offer his family. The last thing he remembered was the alcoholic smell on the Captain's breath.

Jo looked around the café. The wait staff were adjusting the mini table-lamps for the evening customers. A couple entered arm-in-arm, and sat down on a corner sofa. They'd talked the whole afternoon.

Henry cleared his throat: "We should go. Work in the morning,"

Jo took her hand back standing up. He held the door for her as they left. "I can't." Henry tried explain his feelings surrounding the first death.

Jo took his hand as they walked noticing how well they fit together. "It's okay. When you're ready you'll tell me about it."

They arrived at her place, standing in front of the steps looking up at the building both reluctant to enter. He turned to face her his brow furrowed worry showing in his eyes. He wanted to get this out; a reward for her eternal patience.

"I woke up in the water inside a body bag. They missed taking the knife from my belt before they threw me in. I was able to cut my way out. My lungs were bursting by the time I hit the surface."

Silence. Jo looked at him, reached up to brush aside an errant curl. Henry closed his eyes savouring the tender gesture.

"Thank you." She told him, heartfelt. His mask slid back into place, and he took her hand again kissing it.

"I'll see you tomorrow." A smile twitched at his lips as he watched her open the door. Jo waved before she shut it signalling him she was alright.