"Henry, I know you're grieving, but you need to slow down." She grabbed the bottle from him. Henry's hand resisted of its own volition.
Jo spoke gently as if she were afraid he was going to up and split at the first sign of danger. He was going to be fine, really. He shot back the swirling liquid in his glass.
"Jo, it's alright. I know you are only trying to help, and I appreciate that. But I can handle this." He swallowed another gulp.
"How am I going to write a speech? I can't put most of our life in it. I can't put that he was my son, that I raised him. People would riot; I barely pass as forty! Much less two hundred."
"You'll think of something."
"Nothing would do you justice. I've lived a long life, and this is one thing I've managed to avoid. I've attended many a funeral. I've grieved loved ones. But never you, Abraham, whom I've known the most, cared for the longest." Henry gripped his hair and pulled in frustration.
"You always get through hardship. It's what you do. You endure."
"Not without you. How will I move past this?"
"Henry? Who are you talking to?" called Jo, from the doorway.
"No one!" Henry said, a little too quickly. It was all he could do to not look back at Abraham's spot on the sofa.
"Open casket or closed? Sir? Are you there? Sir!"
A click.
Henry held aloft the gun. The gun that gave him his first death. May have given him his curse.
The gun that Adam used to kill him. The gun that didn't work. The only gun Henry had.
It didn't kill him. But it did stop the suffering.
For a moment. Until his head breach the surface of the East River.
And then it all came back.
"Dr. Morgan… Henry… I know you need time, a loved one is a horrible thing to depart with. Take as much time as you need. But, no more night-time skinny dipping, Henry. This isn't the first time you've been dragged out of the river. Grief comes in many forms; I've seen my fair share of it, experienced too much.
"You know we at the Precinct are here for you. Detectives Martinez and Hanson, especially; they care for you. And Lucas is… Lucas misses you most of all.
"He needs your guidance, Henry. You're his mentor."
Lieutenant Reece's no-nonsense disposition crumbled as she went on. Henry thanked her and told her to have a good night and hung up the phone.
"Boss, I'm worried about you. You haven't left your room in a week except to use the bathroom. I know this not because I'm a stalker or anything. Just, we can help you, and we want to, you know?"
"But this shirt brings out his skin tone."
"It's not the right shirt for a funeral, Mr. Ford. He wore that when he broke his arm."
"And how about this one? It goes well with the coffin's interior. Nice complimentary colors."
"That's a happy shirt. It says I'm glad he's dead. Is that what you want me to say at the viewing? Is that it?" Anger boiled up inside him at the smallest trigger.
Even innocent morticians in funeral homes.
"I've seen death. More than I can count. I've lost loved ones. I've experienced loss and grief and despair. But none like this.
"I've also seen life. Beauty. Grace and humility and love and joy. Harmony. Abraham loved me and I loved him. You loved him. And I will miss him.
"Life is a series of moments, each following the last and leading into the next. Every moment with Abraham is one I will cherish for as long as I walk this Earth.
"To part with a soul such as Abe's is a severance I can barely endure. But Abe always said I embodied endurance more than any other concept imaginable. I will live on. For him.
"But without his support, I will be a shell of the man I once was. Without his presence, I am less of me. He made me who I am today. He is missed."