Chapter 4

Author's Note: This was supposed to have been a part of chapter 3. After seeing how long that chapter was getting, I decided to split the chapter in half.

I also want to thank Kythe for pointing out something that was apparently confusing in the last chapter. I know that there is a discrepancy between the age in which Henry first unbuttoned his father's cuffs (age 4) and when he received his first suit (age 6). I will be covering the reason for the discrepancy in a later chapter as it's a plot point.

Jo connected with the line her colleague had mentioned. "Hello?"

"Hello." The man on the other end sounded a little hesitant. "My name is Eric Rowell. I own the apartment complex that caught fire last night."

"Yes. What about it?"

"May I ask what happened? The newspaper said that someone had died in the fire."

Jo held the phone away from her and groaned. The NYPD had not released that information to the public, and neither she nor Mike had seen anyone from the press around the building last night. Lucas would be the most likely member of the OCME to talk to the media. Since his leak to the press about Gloria Carlisle's death, however, he had been much more cautious with the media as he didn't want to sacrifice his and Henry's reputations. Jo realized that the FDNY was the source of the leak.

"How did you find out about it?"

"I saw a link to an article in the newspaper in my Facebook timeline this morning. I've been out of town visiting relatives in Houston. One of my cousins died, and we've been helping with the funeral arrangements."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Jo bit her lower lip in thought for a minute. It seemed inappropriate to continue the interview after that revelation, but Jo knew that she had to. She pulled a notepad closer to her and found a pen. "May I ask you who owned the apartment units that caught fire?"

"I remember a Dean Brewster renting one of the units a few years back. He sublet it to someone else; I don't know who. As for the other, I can't tell you who rented the apartment without looking at the contracts."

"How long will you be gone?" She preferred that Mr. Rowell voluntarily provided them with the information that they needed. That way, all parties involved could be held blameless in case the case went south. Otherwise, she and Mike would have to obtain a warrant, and she knew that they did not have any evidence that would convince the judge to give them one.

"I'll be back on Monday."

Mr. Rowell's response made Jo sigh. That was too long to wait, but she had no other choice.

"Okay. Please call us and let us know when you have arrived back in New York."

After she hung up, she looked at Mike. He was leaning on her desk, his hands spread about shoulder-width apart. "It's going to be a long day, huh?"

Jo nodded before she filled him in on the phone call. Mike went to his desk and began to work on finding contact information on Brewster. She pulled out her cell phone out of her pocket and quickly dialed Abe's.

"Hi, Abe." Jo began when she heard Abe's voice. From the background sounds, she could tell that he was in the hospital's elevator. She sighed before continuing. "Listen, we're not going to be able to make it today."

"What happened?" There was a tinge of worry in his voice.

"We got a lead in the apartment complex fire from last night."

Jo could hear Abe give it a moment's thought. At breakfast this morning, they discussed the team's visit with Henry. As much as it would have embarrassed Henry because of the fuss made over him, Jo and Abe agreed that it would be beneficial for everyone.

"Just make it when you can. If you can't come while he's here, you know where we live."

"Thanks."

The second she hung up, Lt. Reece called her into her office. Jo explained the situation. Both women agreed that, for the sake of the department, Jo and Mike were to begin work on the investigation.

After she returned to her desk, Jo began a background check on Mr. Rowell and began the process of obtaining financial information on his apartment complex. In a way, she hoped that they would be able to uncover information that would allow the judge to grant them the warrant for the contracts before Friday evening. If they could not find anything, Jo knew that it was going to be a long weekend chasing the people who've sublet the apartment.

As Abe settled into the chair, he mentioned something about a few people being unable to visit. Henry wasn't paying attention, though. He felt guilty for his reaction to Abe's entrance into the room; his memory loss gave him no excuse to treat Abe that way. Henry admitted to himself that he wanted the ability to reciprocate Abe's connection with him. Family, both biological and chosen, shared interests and experiences. He and Abe had nothing in common, at least nothing that Henry remembered. That had been stolen from him.

Henry suddenly felt uncomfortable. "Could you please assist me to the WC?" A puzzled look crossed Abe's face. "I'm under doctor's orders to have someone accompany me while I walk today." Abe got up and walked with him to the room.

The need to use it gave Henry some time to think and to compose himself even more. He needed to talk to someone about the issues he had. Honestly, he wanted someone to help him remember, just like the woman had helped in his daydream. As Abe did not much about his past, his parents would know about it. Henry swallowed and fought back tears as he realized that death had stolen that option from him years ago.

A psychiatrist would then be the person to ask if there were no others. Henry did not want to endure another psychiatric evaluation yet; this one had unnerved him. If the amnesia was caused by a psychological issue, he preferred to find the trigger first so that he would not be unnerved by the psychiatric evaluation. That is, unless the trigger was already removed; then, he would need time to recover his memories. He gave his memory issues two weeks to be resolved before he scheduled an appointment with the psychiatrist to discuss his memory.

Henry pulled the IV pole closer to the sink and began to wash his hands, being careful not to soak the dressing. For the next two weeks, he would have to learn about his past on his own by finding something that would remind him of it. He smiled a bit as he realized that Abe should know some things about him. After all, they were roommates. He could learn everything he can from Abe.

Henry became frightened by the thought of his questions and any mention of his daydream upsetting Abe again. Henry resolved to try to act as normally as possible, whatever that was, so that he wouldn't hurt Abe anymore. That meant that he would not ask Abe any questions about his past; he would have to learn about his past by hearing him mention it.

Henry opened the door and saw Abe standing near it. Abe helped him back to the bed. As Henry adjusted himself on it, Abe settled back into the chair. "Are you done with the newspaper? I haven't read it yet."

"Yes, certainly." Henry saw the old man pick it up and read the front page.

Abe read for a couple of minutes before commenting. "It's a shame about the person who died in the apartment fire. Hopefully, they catch the guy who did it." Henry looked at Abe, his eyes slightly widened. Abe was reading one of the articles he had been interested in discussing. In fact, his comment indicated that their residence was undamaged.

"If it were arson. Most apartment complexes here have been built before and during the 1950s. The owners would not replace faulty furnaces and wiring to keep in compliance with the building codes, even when it's necessary. Nor could they control renters' behavior in overloading circuits, leaving hot plates on, or even placing metal in microwaves." How did I know that?

Abe chuckled. "I see that you're feeling better already." Apparently, that was normal for Henry.

As Abe read a few articles, Henry began to relax and to discuss them with Abe. Henry could imagine the two of them sitting at the table discussing current events over a meal. He had trouble seeing their residence, but, for the time being, it didn't matter. In a way, this felt like home already.

Just as Abe picked up the sports page, the cafeteria worker came with Henry's lunch tray. She set the tray down on the table near Henry. Abe stood and pulled it around. Two plates, a wheat roll, a bowl of condiments, and a covered mug with a coffee aroma streaming from it were arranged on the tray as to minimize wasted space. The smaller of the two plates had a piece of white cake with white frosting on it. Henry lifted the lid on the mug and on the plate. The mug's contents confirmed the coffee. On the larger plate were green beans and something which resembled chicken and noodles covered with a white, chunky-looking sauce.

Abe grimaced. "What is that?"

Henry picked up the meal ticket. "According to this, it's supposed to be chicken Alfredo."

Abe reached over and took a sample of the dish just as Henry took his first bite. Abe grimaced after his bite. "I thought that hospitals were about saving lives, not taking them. That bite alone could send my blood pressure through the roof. Too much salt."

Henry smiled. Anything that Abe cooked had to be better tasting than this. That is, unless Henry was the better chef. He would have to see when he returned to their residence.

"I was not expecting this." Henry picked up another bite of the entrée. Abe went back to reading the newspaper.

"Well, emergency departments usually don't know what the food is like on the floors."

Emergency department. That would explain Abe's lack of knowledge about Henry's childhood. The erratic scheduling and the constant flow of patients would have prevented them from having time to talk. Even if they did have time, illnesses, injuries, and deaths refused to stop long enough to allow them to share more details from their lives.

Henry studied Abe for a minute. "Abe, why are you here?"

The old man lowered the newspaper and looked at him with a serious expression on his face. "Some things are more important." He then smiled for the first time since Henry woke up.

"Well, things at the shop have been slow for the past couple of days." Abe paused for a second, and the smile faded. He arched his eyebrows and slouched slightly in the chair. "While you were gone, I sold the Tiffany lamp that you had near the phone, two French porcelain vases, and the late 18th Century game table near the door of our 'office'."

For some reason, Abe's expression made Henry think of a son in trouble with his father. Henry felt he had to say something to calm his thoughts. "Oh, that's great."

Abe raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth in surprise. "No questions about who I sold it to or what they want to do with it?"

"No, I trust you completely." Henry was just as surprised about this conversation as Abe. His question about Abe's presence was to establish the nature of their relationship. To his surprise, Henry had learned that the two men were co-owners of an antiques shop. He had no idea how he balanced running a business with being a nurse in the emergency department. He would find out when he returned to work again.

Henry managed to eat his atrocious chicken Alfredo and the more flavorful green beans. Before he could pick up his roll to eat it, he heard a groan coming from the room next door. Several voices, all speaking a language other than English, surged in volume and intensity. Henry pushed his table away and swung his legs over the bed. Abe quickly joined him, apparently sensing his desire to help the person. Henry used his IV pole to steady himself as he and Abe headed for the door.

They stepped into the hallway. The doctors and nurses seemed to have vanished. A light flashed over a door across the hallway and four doors to the left. Four cubicles with Plexiglas walls sat in the middle of the hallway; their computers and desks were as empty as the corridor itself. Henry walked into his neighbor's room. A man of Latino descent laid on the bed, groaning in pain. Two women, both of European descent, stood beside it, their backs to the door. A young African-American boy, no older than six, sat in the chair between the bed and the wall. The boy had tears in his eyes. In spite of their appearance, Henry could see that they were a family.

"¿Es tu estómago otra vez?" The younger looking woman sounded worried.

"Disculpame." The women turned around and looked at Henry in surprise as someone could speak their language. "¿Pueden Ustedes decirme lo que está pasando aquí?"

"I was playing football in the park with several of my friends a couple of days ago. One of them rammed me in the stomach with his head." The man on the bed spoke each word between pained breaths. "Yesterday, I became weak on my right side, and my speech sounded awful, so we came here. The doctors told me that I had a mild stroke."

"When did the pain start?"

"Yesterday."

Henry swallowed. Certainly, someone in the emergency department should had noticed the man's symptoms. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-eight."

Surprised, Henry looked at the man. He was far too young to have a stroke.

The young boy's sniffles caused Henry to look at him. In some ways, the boy reminded Henry of Abe last night. "Courage. Your father is a strong man, and he will get through this. You have my word." The boy stared at Henry, who offered a smile. The older woman walked around the bed to the boy. He rose from the chair, and his grandmother held him in her arms.

Henry looked back at the man. Abdominal pain never accompanied stroke symptoms. He pressed down on the man's abdomen on the left side between the stomach and the rib cage. The man winced in pain. A couple of more presses in the same area provided Henry with the information he needed. The final one sent a wave of dizziness over him.

Henry turned to see Abe, but the older man was not there. Henry closed his eyes and grabbed the bed rail to fight the dizziness. Abe knew that he was under doctor's orders to have someone accompanying him in his walks. Furthermore, Henry needed someone to assist him in surgery if it came to that.

Just then, Abe appeared in the hallway with a nurse and a doctor. Henry wished that the two were his nurse from last night and Dr. Patel. It would make this easier. Henry clutched the bedrail harder as a wave of nausea came at the same time the dizziness left him.

"This man needs surgery now." Henry was surprised to hear himself. He wasn't sure what was more surprising, hearing himself switch back to English or challenging the doctor's authority.

The doctor spoke up. "Why? He's a stroke patient."

"He has a ruptured spleen, which caused his stroke. Apparently, the nurses and doctors in the emergency department missed the abdominal pain in the upper left quadrant." Henry wrinkled his brows. Nurses never made life-saving diagnoses; doctors did.

The nurse looked at Abe. "Can you do something about him?"

Abe looked at her with the same serious expression he had given Henry earlier. "I've seen this before, and he's usually right. He's a doctor. He's so good that I had to ask the hospital staff to use the medical terminology around him."

The doctor looked first at Abe and then at Henry. He walked over to the man and conducted his own examination.

The nurse's stern voice interrupted Henry's plans to follow the doctor's examination. "It's time for both of you to leave. Now." The nurse waited until Henry reached the door, and she escorted them back to the room. She kept an eye on Henry as he climbed back into bed. "If he dies, this hospital will sue you both for all you're worth."

As she left, Henry and Abe looked at each other. Neither man spoke for a minute. Henry listened as the doctor ordered a stretcher to take the patient to surgery. Henry looked over at Abe and saw the older man watching the threshold now.

The old man's voice broke the silence. "You know, you've just saved his life."

Henry sighed. "Fate may have other plans. Only time can tell."

Henry looked at his tray beside the bed. Because of his nausea, he could not eat any more of his meal. He wasn't sure what had caused it. It could have been related to his other symptoms, or it could have been his worries for the man and his family. He had his life in front of him. His family obviously cared for him, and they did not deserve to suffer the pain of losing their son, husband, and father.

Henry looked back at Abe, who had picked up the newspaper again. Abe was a complete stranger, so it should not matter what Henry thought of him. Yet, he found himself wanting to protect Abe's feelings and enjoying Abe's company. Henry wondered if he had started to consider the old man as family already. Only time would tell if he was.

Lucas looked at the autopsy table. If it didn't already had a body on it, it would have made an excellent bed. He, however, might be mistaken for a corpse if he used it to get some sleep.

Lucas knew that he was well-rested when he came to work this morning. His ten hours of sleep last night left him feeling ready to conquer the world. After five hours of work, he was surprised at how fast the fatigue caught up to him. He was sure that his sleepiness wasn't connected to the past 72 hours.

He and Jeff had been working to determine the cause of a 24-year-old woman who was found dead five blocks from Baruch College. The unis had witnesses who stated that she was drunk, and they believed that she was a victim of a hit-and-run. Jeff agreed with the officers. Lucas wondered why she had no smell of alcohol on her breath. The two men opened her, and Lucas spotted signs of type 1 diabetes on her kidneys and pancreas. He then pitched the theory that she had a hypoglycemic episode while trying to cross the street. Lucas might had been half-asleep, but, at least, he could still function.

Lucas let out a yawn.

Jeff, a middle-aged man with spiked black hair, a goatee, and hipster-style glasses, stopped his stitching and looked at the young man. "You look like a member of The Walking Dead."

"I feel like one."

"You've been working for how many days now?"

"Nine." That explains my sleepiness.

"When's your next day off?"

"I don't know. I have to work with Dr. Washington tomorrow. After that, I don't know who I'll be working with. The schedule had TBD written next to my name." Over the past two weeks, Lucas and his fellow assistants rotated among the medical examiners to prevent backlogs. Jeff's usual assistant was helping Dr. Washington with his self-imposed backlog today.

"Well, you'll be working with Morgan when he gets back. By the way, how is he?"

Wow! Word spreads fast around here, just like it does with NYPD. "His roommate told me that he woke up last night. I was supposed to visit him today."

In a way, Lucas was a bit hurt that Jo and Mike hadn't called him yesterday morning to let him know that the NYPD had found Henry. Instead, Lucas found out from Jo last night when he arrived at the scene. As Lucas pushed the charred body back to the van, Abe called him with the good news. Lucas was grateful for Abe's call as he knew that Lucas had been busy the past few days. It still would have been nice if Jo called too.

"That stinks."

"Yeah." Lucas pulled off his gloves and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He scrolled through his call list to see if Jo or Mike had called him before Abe did. It took Lucas a minute, but he found Jo's call from yesterday morning. That explained the buzzing he had felt when he used the bathroom in a service station. He thought that it was a Twitter notification. Oops.

Lucas' curiosity about the charred body got the better of him. In a way, it looked like a body out of one of his horror films, or one of his horror-erotic films, depending on his mood. "Speaking of bodies, do you know what happened to the body I brought in last night?"

"I've been told that Morgan's supposed to work on it when he got back, though."

"Really?" Lucas could not believe his ears. He grinned. Me and Henry working on the body, like Tonto and the Lone Ranger, Holmes and Watson, Kirk and Spock. Actually, it would be Kirk, Spock, and Bones, but we don't have a third person working with us in the morgue.

Jeff looked at his temporary assistant. "Take an hour-long lunch break. Use some of it to take a nap. I don't need people around here to mistake you for a zombie."

"Thank you!" Lucas quickly discarded his gloves and headed straight for the break room. He could not stop grinning. In just a few days, he and Henry would be joining Jo and Mike on their case.

His excitement, however, could not ward off his sleepiness. The second he reached the break room, he looked at the cot to see if anyone was occupying it. He saw that it was empty, and he sat down on it. He set his alarm on his phone for thirty minutes and went to sleep.

Two hours later, Abe suggested that they should walk down the hallway. Henry agreed to it as it would provide a change in scenery. Their first steps into the hallway revealed that, unlike their last excursion past the room, the hallway teemed with nurses and doctors.

Henry looked over at Abe as they walked toward the other end of the hallway. "So, how do you know Kimberley?"

"I met her mother on eHarmony a couple of years ago." Henry raised his eyebrows while Abe looked forward. "Kimberley had been attending the University of Michigan—Ann Arbor at the time. When she came home, her mother introduced her to me."

"What happened to the relationship?" A female nurse in pink scrubs came from behind them and placed her hand on the IV pump as she passed.

"Believe it or not, her mother didn't think of me as much of a ladies' man." Henry's wrinkled brows silenced the older gentleman before he could give more details.

Henry nodded at two female nurses standing in the entrance of one of the cubicles. As they passed, they heard one of the nurses say "Oh, man" with a pleasantly surprised voice. Both men took a few more steps past the cubicles and stopped. Henry craned his head as far as it could go while Abe leaned back to look where the nurses were looking. The nurse who placed Henry in the gown yesterday had tied the cords properly. A gap in the fabric, however, exposed Henry's posterior. Henry reached his free hand around his back to see if he could close the gap manually. Before he had the chance, his eyes landed on the top of the IV pump. He reached over and picked up a piece of paper lying on it. He unfolded it and saw that it was a phone number for the nurse who passed them earlier.

Henry chuckled. "Apparently, I just picked up a nurse against your orders."

"Well, that charm of yours tends to attract the ladies."

Henry looked for a place to put the slip of paper. He couldn't place it back on the IV pole, so he placed it in his gown's front pocket. He then reached back and attempted to use his free hand to close the gown properly. Out of the corner of his eye, Henry could see Abe smile.

As they walked a little further down the hallway, Henry saw Dr. Patel walking toward them. "Mr.—I should say, Dr.—Morgan, it's nice to see you up and walking around. This must be your father."

"Yes, I am." Abe spoke before Henry had the chance to deny it. Henry glared at Abe, who ignored him.

"Come this way." Dr. Patel motioned for them to join him in one of the cubicles. He pulled a chair around for Henry to sit in. Henry gratefully took it as another wave of nausea threatened to overtake him. This time, it was accompanied with a headache.

Dr. Patel leaned back on the desk. "Well, I read the psychiatrist's notes, and she did not see anything wrong with your memory. As there is nothing wrong with you, I do not see why we need to keep you any longer than necessary. You can go home tomorrow."

Tomorrow. That was too early. "What if I begin to experience other physical symptoms, such as headaches and nausea?"

"I would suggest that you treat them the same way you usually do. If they last longer than a week, then you should follow up with your physician." Dr. Patel looked at Abe. "Do you have any questions for me?"

"No, none." Abe extended his hand to the doctor. Dr. Patel took it and shook it. "Thanks."

Henry wanted to ask the doctor about his neighbor's condition. "Dr. Patel…" The concept of patient-doctor confidentiality stopped him. "Thank you."

"Well, I guess this will be the last time that I'll see you."

Henry rose from his chair and finished his walk with Abe in silence. Apparently, Dr. Patel did not seem to think that Henry's headache, nausea, and dizziness were serious enough to require an additional day's stay to determine their cause.

He sighed as he and Abe walked back into the room and settled down. "Why don't you go home for a couple of hours, Abe? You look like you need some rest."

Abe rose from his seat and put on his coat. "I'm not turning you down on your offer." Abe placed his hand over Henry's as he passed by him. Henry wrapped his fingers around Abe's in return. "I'm coming back later today, though. This time, with clothes."

As he watched Abe leave, Henry sighed in resignation. His headache and nausea was the least of his worries. He was more worried about being released from the hospital tomorrow. He and Abe being together under the same roof could create the conditions necessary for them to form a new family. It could also bring out the men's differences and increase the risk for conflict. Henry hoped that their relationship would survive whatever conflicts did spring up from the close quarters. He had lost so many important relationships already. This was one that he did not want to lose.

Henry felt his headache growing stronger. He did not want to call a nurse for pain medication. He did not even know what medicine would help it. Maybe the best thing that he could do was to sleep it off. He closed his eyes and eventually fell asleep.

Mike finished his phone call and sighed. As far as Mike knew, this case seemed to hinge on their ability to speak with the 14 families displaced by the fire. Usually, in criminal cases like this, the Red Cross representatives would allow them to access a list of those who have been displaced so they could talk to the witnesses. One representative in particular, Ursula, usually refused to let them see it without a warrant. Every time they called the organization, they never knew who they would get. This time, the news wasn't good.

Jo standing at his desk interrupted his thoughts. She was dressed in her coat again. He looked at his watch. It was past eight o'clock at night. Another day had passed, and they still had not seen Henry. The man had been wondering if they were ever coming to see him.

"The background checks that I ran on Rowell and the apartment complex won't be ready until tomorrow at the earliest. I also phoned the FDNY fire marshal, and he had just started his investigation today. How about you?"

"So far, I haven't found anything on Brewster yet, and I just spoke with the Red Cross. Ursula handled the refugees this time."

Jo groaned. They didn't have the evidence needed for the warrant.

Mike rose from his seat and pulled on his coat. "I don't know. We're missing our groove this case." Mike knew exactly why. If Doc were here, he would have already determined exactly who they needed to talk to.

"Tell me about it." Jo bit her lower lip as they walked silently toward the elevator. Even if it didn't involve Henry, this case was obviously upsetting Jo.

Mike looked at Jo. "I don't mean to pry, but where are you staying?"

Jo looked around, almost like she didn't want anyone to overhear her. "I couldn't stay at my place, so I've been staying with Abe. He's been keeping an eye on my alcohol intake."

"So, you're going back tonight?" It wasn't a question; he knew she was.

Jo smiled and nodded. "Abe called to say that Henry will be coming home tomorrow. I'll be leaving in the morning."

"That's great. About Doc, not about you leaving his and Abe's tomorrow morning. So, we'll be able to see him at home then. Have you told Lucas yet?"

"I called him a few minutes ago; he just was leaving the OCME. He yelled so loudly that I had to hold my phone away from my ear." Jo chuckled at the memory.

The elevator came, and they stepped into it, discussing ways to keep Lucas from exhausting Henry or annoying him the next time they saw him. Lucas' talkative nature could do that to anyone.

As Mike drove home, he found himself relieved that Jo had not been by herself over the past few days. After Sean died, Mike saw Jo cut herself off from everyone around her. That is, everyone but Mike, and that was because of their work. Then, Henry came along. He certainly was not Mike's first choice as a friend, or as someone more, for Jo. The medical examiner was just too weird, too cocky, and too much of a know-it-all; Jo was sensible and normal. They, however, connected very well, especially after she learned of Doc's immortality. Mike had to admit that Jo seemed much happier now that Henry had come along. Doc's disappearance had threatened to send her back to that dark place she occupied when she lost Sean. Abe's presence and shared concerns apparently kept her from going there.

This was also one rare time that Mike hugged Karen and their sons tighter every time he came home. The past couple of days were terrifying for Mike, and he was involved in the search. Mike's gunshot scared Karen, and that was a flesh wound. He couldn't even begin to imagine how his family would feel if Mike were in Henry's place. He hoped that he and his family would never go through that.

Mike pulled into his driveway and walked into his residence. Mike greeted Karen with a kiss and the good news about Henry before changing clothes. For the first time in days, Mike could relax and play with his sons as usual. Tomorrow would come in a few hours, and he would not be allotted the opportunity to rest as the need to serve justice awaited him.

Author's Note: Unfortunately, we haven't had the chance to learn every language Henry speaks (yet). So, I decided that maybe he might have learned Spanish at one point in his life. For those who don't understand it, the conversation went:

"Is it your stomach again?"

"Excuse me. Can you tell me what is happening?"

Also, if anyone wants to know Abe's take on the situation so far, it'll be in the next chapter.