Ch. 2: The Explanation

I was blown away by the response I received for this story. A special thanks to all of those who left me a review and encouraged me. You guys are the best! Now that the secret is out (kind of ) it is time for an explanation…

Jo waited as the elevator made its way down, eager for its doors to open and let her out at the morgue. It was Friday and the workday was over and though the weekend ahead was enough to put a smile on her face she had to admit the reason for its being there now was something else entirely. Henry had left her a message that he wanted to talk to her and she was glad. She hadn't seen him since last weekend and she'd missed him. Their partnership had always put them in contact regularly, and lately she had even gotten used to seeing him every day.

It had been three weeks since that day she had found him in the park. When she had walked him home after that day and had seen the state of his home she knew he needed some help. Naturally, being the independent man that he was he hadn't wanted to accept help. But he was also a smart man so he knew he needed it and had allowed her to help. So, for the next couple weeks she had visited him every day, going to his place after she got off work. She always made sure he got something to eat and had taken care of any chores that needed doing around his house. She knew he felt embarrassed to let her take care of those things since physically he was capable of doing them for himself. But she understood the difference and had continued to reassure him that it was alright.

She remembered those early days following Sean's death and how it had taken so much energy and effort to do even the simplest of tasks. Some days it had seemed like just getting out of bed was all she had the energy for. She would have liked to have had someone to help her out and probably would have accepted such help had she had a friend as good as Henry at the time. She was more than willing to be that person for Henry in his time of need.

Those weeks had been so hard for Henry. He'd really dug down into his grief and dealt with it. Sometimes, he wanted her there, seeking out her comfort when the darkness came over him. Sometimes, he needed to be alone and he would go off by himself to grieve. It had been difficult for him to do and it had been hard for her to watch. But it was necessary and it was helping. Though he was far from better, and would never be the same as he had been, he was on his way to healing.

After those two weeks he'd told her he thought he was ready and to handle things around the house on his own again and ready to go back to work. As someone who been on the inside and had watched his grieving she knew he was ready. She'd given him a full endorsement to the Lieutenant and he'd started back to work and she'd returned to her life as it was. Mostly as it had been anyway.

Though Henry had been back at work for a full week now she had not seen him. After more than a month off he had a mound of paperwork to deal with before he would be available to go on cases with her again. She had known it would be that way, and it would probably would continue to be that way for a while as he caught up but she still missed him. She had never thought her job boring but Henry left an impression and after having worked with him going back to working without him did seem almost dull.

The doors on the elevator opened and she walked to the morgue. When she walked inside she found Henry standing next to a body deep in notes. She couldn't help but smile as she approached him. It was great to see Henry here again where he belonged. She's known she had missed it but it wasn't until this moment that she realized just how much she had missed him being here.

"Hello," she said greeting him with a smile and getting his attention away from the notes he was scrawling.

He looked up at her. "Hello, Detective. You seem to be in a good mood," he said when he noticed the larger than normal smile on her face.

"I am. It's really good to have you back," she admitted.

"Isn't it though?" Lucas said, breaking into their conversation with huge smile on his face as he walked by. He gave Henry an adoring look, even more so than usual and for a moment Jo thought he might actually hug Henry. But if that was his thought he restrained himself. He walked away still looking as happy as a clam.

Henry smiled. It was the first real, genuine smile that Jo had seen on his face since Abe had passed away. "I missed you as well," he said looking at her a bit shyly. "It's good to be back."

"I think if you're not careful though, Lucas might pounce on you," she said in a jesting tone.

Now he even laughed a little. "He actually already took care of that. He smothered me as soon as I arrived on Monday. I told him it was alright given my long absence but I informed him it was not to occur again," Henry said in a mock serious tone. She could tell he loved it.

"I'm not sure why he would feel that way. Dr. Washington has such a 'sunny' personality. Surely, he's just as much fun to work with," she said joking back. She felt a pang of sympathy for Lucas. She had hated working with Dr. Washington in Henry's absence and she had only had to see him every once in a while. She couldn't imagine the torture it must have been for Lucas who had to work for with the man constantly.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Henry said faking ignorance but he knew exactly what she meant. And he was pleased. He liked being missed.

"Anyway," she said remembering the reason that had brought her here. "I'm getting distracted. You left me a message saying you wanted to see me?"

"Ah, yes," he said nodding. "I know its last minute but I was wondering if you had any plans for the evening."

She smiled. She was glad his question hadn't been work related. She was even happier that it appeared she might get to spend the evening with him. There had been so many times over the past week that she had thought to call him or see him but she had stopped herself. She was determined to give him some space so he could try and resume a somewhat normal schedule. She didn't want to hover or smother him. But it had been difficult. She worried about him a lot and she missed him. She was glad to see that the worries she'd had seemed to be unjustified. She was also glad that they were finally going to get to spend some time together again.

"No, unless you count a few hours with the DVR and some Chinese take-out as plans?" she answered with a smile.

He laughed slightly. "I don't," he said.

"I didn't think you would."

"As enjoyable as that sounds," he said playful sarcasm in his voice, "I wonder if I might be able to distract you from those plans."

"I might be able to be persuaded otherwise," she teased. "What did you have in mind?"

Henry suddenly looked nervous. "I thought you could come over and let me make you dinner. Allow me to repay you for all the help you've been to me lately."

"Henry, I would love to have dinner with you. But there is no need to repay me for anything. I was glad to help."

"Thank you," he said nodding his head, touched by the sincerity of her words. "But my reasons are twofold. I also thought we could talk. You know about…Abe. You know…about what I told you about me and Abe," he said quietly glancing around the room, unable to say more about it at the moment.

If Jo were honest she would have to admit that the questions had burned in her mind ever since Henry had told her that Abe was his son. She'd had so many questions that day and they had only seemed to multiply ever since. But she knew that Henry would have to answer them eventually. She remained confident that he would when he was able. But it had been such a precarious time for him and she hadn't wanted to upset his journey to recovery. He had been so distraught and fragile she just couldn't bombard him with a list of her questions. As much as she wanted answers she cared about Henry even more. That wasn't to say that she hadn't spent a lot of time thinking about it, even tossing and turning a few nights over the questions she'd had.

She was relieved that the time for answers seemed to finally have arrived. True to the faith she had placed in him he was coming out with it on his own. "Alright," she said nodding.

"Good," he said looking both a little bit relieved but also at the same time, much more anxious. She started to feel a little nervous herself wondering what it was that he was going to tell her tonight. "See you at say 7:00?"

"Sounds good," she agreed.

"Henry, that was a fantastic dinner," Jo said as she sat back a little in her chair, thoroughly stuffed. She had eaten entirely too much but that always seemed to be a problem when she came over. It was hard not to when the food was so good.

"Thank you," he said. "You're too kind."

"Not at all," she said honestly. "You must have been getting so sick of all the take-out I brought over if this is what usually have to eat."

"It isn't as if I cook this elaborately for myself all the time. And the take-out was perfect. If it weren't for you I don't know what I would have done," he said sincerely.

She felt her cheeks warm slightly. "Well, my heart is in the right place even if my cooking skills aren't."

"That I do know," he agreed warmly. "And that's more important than cooking skills anyway. I really don't cook that often myself. Abe always-" Henry stopped his breath catching suddenly as he remembered again. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His face turned up in pain and he fell still, trying to fight it off. "It comes in waves," he said quietly shaking his head still keeping his eyes closed.

"It's alright," Jo encouraged gently. She reached out a hand and put it on top of his, running her thumb back and forth across his. Henry had started to heal but he was far from being at the place where the mention of Abe still didn't hurt.

"It just hits me so hard at times, even when I'm starting to feel good."

"I know. It just comes out of nowhere."

Henry was quiet for a few moments and she just sat with him. He seemed determined not to give into it this time though and she was surprised that this wave of pain seemed to pass relatively fast.

He opened his eyes and looked at Jo. "Speaking of Abe, that brings us back to the matter at hand," he said a little stronger but anxious.

"Right," she said agreeing. She had been waiting for him to bring it up ever since she had arrived but he apparently had been waiting until after their meal. Probably that was for the best. That nervousness she had felt in the morgue earlier now returned. Henry seemed so worried about this and it made her think she should be more worried about it too.

"You want to go in the living room? It's a bit more comfortable in there," he suggested as he rose from the table gesturing a hand in that direction.

"Sure," she agreed as she stood up and followed him.

There was already a bottle of wine and two glasses on the coffee table in front of the couch; he obvious thought this was a conversation that was going to need the aid of alcohol. She felt her nervousness grow even more. It felt like this was going to be a pivotal conversation. What would change after they had talked? She hoped it would only be something for the better. It had to.

He let her sit down first and he joined her, sitting close but not too close beside her, as if he were trying to maintain some safe distance. It felt a bit awkward which was strange considering how many times in the past weeks they had sat on this same couch and talked and cried. She hoped that they wouldn't lose the closeness they'd formed recently. Though she hated the reason it had happened she was really happy for the closeness she'd gained with Henry.

Henry sat his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together, looking very serious. "I'm sure you must have some questions, after what I told you about me and Abe," he said hesitantly.

He looked as frightened as a caged animal. She didn't like how afraid he seemed to be around her when lately he'd been so open with her. She didn't want them going backwards in the trust they'd shared. She smiled, trying to reassure him. "I would be lying if I said I didn't. Kind of have to be a curious person to be a detective."

Henry smiled. It was small but it was there. "But you didn't ask. You gave me peace while I was grieving and for that I am most appreciative."

"There are more important things than my curiosity."

He smiled, knowing it was their friendship she spoke of, and glad for it too. "Well, you deserve some answers and I am ready now, to answer your questions."

Every question Jo had had over the past three weeks seemed to fly right out of her head in that moment. Every time one of those questions came to her it seemed too crazy to actually voice and went back out of her mind again. She knew she'd had so many but right now she seemed to be left with only one.

"What you told me, about Abe being your son...Henry, is that really true?"

"Yes," he answered with honesty, looking at her seriously. "He really is. Really was," he amended with a pause clearing his throat.

Jo reached over and took his hand. "He always will be," she said giving his hand a squeeze.

Henry looked at her, his eyes shining with tears but he smiled at her. "Thank you."

There was a pause in the conversation and Jo could tell this was going to be more difficult than she had thought it would be. It was also then that she remembered the craziness of this situation. It was so easy to see how difficult the loss of Abe was to Henry and how he grieved for him that she realized she had already accepted their relationship as father and son as fact. She just couldn't doubt Henry in this.

But she still didn't have any answers about how it could be true. Henry was willing to give her the answers now she just needed to stay on track and ask them.

"How, Henry?" she asked.

Henry took a deep breath and his eyes took on a distant look. He was no doubt looking far into the past. It was a look she had seen many times before but one that only now made sense. "I adopted him in 1945. He was found among the remaining prisoners when Auschwitz was liberated. I was stationed in Poland at the time as a doctor and they brought him to me to check.

Henry paused to smile now. "He should have been hurt or sick. He actually should have never survived that long. They didn't even keep the babies in the camps. But somehow he had survived and he was completely unharmed. Everyone said it was a miracle and he was. He was my miracle."

Jo wasn't really sure what to say. She wasn't sure what she had expected to hear, something normal she had supposed, but this was even farther from normal than she had expected. It sounded like a story one might read out of a historical novel. Or a history book. And yet, somehow this was Henry's life and it had been Abe's too. The timing made sense for Abe's age and she remembered seeing the numbers on his arm. She had known what they were but the subject had never come up and she had never asked. But it was proof that Abe had been in a concentration camp at one time.

She was a detective so she was used to seeing things and needing proof. She was not used to relying on faith or the supernatural to explain things. She needed evidence. And though she would have thought that this story would have required her to just trust Henry at his word it didn't. The proof was there. She had always wondered about Henry and Abe and their relationship. She had never really believed that story they had told her the first time she'd been invited to dinner with them. She knew it ran much deeper than family friends. It had been proof of something else and that something was this.

"That sounds amazing," she finally said shaking her head at the story.

Henry reached for an album that was sitting on the table and held it in his hands. His ran his hand over the old worn cover and it was apparent that he treasured it. He looked a little nervous and hesitant to open it up but also excited to share it with her.

Jo found herself longing to know more about this story. It was like she was getting to see more of Henry's heart, something she had been longing for for so long now. She'd always known him to be a caring man with a great capacity to love. It only made sense that he would have compassion on an infant, who was alone and had already in his short life experienced so much hardship. She knew he would open his arms and heart and to such a child.

The first picture he showed her was a picture of him in uniform, holding the then baby Abe. She found herself smiling at the picture and she saw out of the corner of her eye as Henry smiled too when he saw her reaction. It was Henry, again, undeniably him but in a WW2 uniform. But she found herself focused on the joy in the picture and not surreal setting. Henry was so happy. She was pretty sure she had ever seen him as happy as he was in that picture. Normally, there was always a bit a pain in his eyes, well concealed, but still there as if he was always carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. But for the Henry in this picture everything was right in the world.

It made sense to her now how there had always seemed to be such a depth to his character. All the skills and wisdom he carried around that suggested the years of someone much older than himself was because he had been living much longer than it seemed. She knew him very little, she realized and that made her sad. She knew a lot about him, who he was and his character, the things that really mattered. But she didn't know all the things, all the history, all the stories that made up his life. There were decades at least of his life she knew nothing about and she found herself eager to learn those stories. Right here in this picture was a story that was so much a part of him and she'd never known. She wanted to know what else had made him the man he was today.

She looked at him and nodded down to the book and he flipped the pages. At first the pictures were only of Henry and Abe. But then there was a woman in the pictures with them. Jo pointed at the picture asking a question though she didn't need to voice it and Henry nodded his head. "Yes. That's Abigail. She was a nurse also stationed there at the time. She was actually the one that found Abe and brought him to me. That's how I met her. And she was the one who told me I should adopt him.

"I tried to resist the idea," he said as she continued to look at the old pictures. "But I was done for from the beginning. I still can't explain it. He was my son, even though I had just met him. Somehow I just felt like I was his father. He needed me and I needed him too."

"And then you and Abigail were married?"

"Well, I tried to resist that with a little more persistence. I refused the notion of marrying her for a few years but in the end I saw there had been no battle at all all along. I had been in love with her from the start as well."

Jo flipped through the pages of the album. Most of the pictures were of Abe, some with Henry some without, some with Abigail. She watched as Abe grew older throughout them, the pictures documenting his life from infancy to the near present right before they'd lost him. She could see how Abe aged through the pictures. She also saw how Henry did not. Throughout them all he remained the same, always, never changing. The hair styles and the clothing changed but his face was always the same. The years passed by but they had not left one single mark him.

Almost all of the pictures were from the 1940's and on. But some of them were even older. There weren't many but there were some, pictures he had taken here and there with one important person or another. All of them people who would be long gone by now and yet Henry was still here. Jo studied the last picture in the album which only contained Henry in it. It was blurry and of low quality but she could tell that it was still Henry. His styling made him look different but once again she could not deny it was him.

"That was the first picture I ever had taken," he offered when he noticed her studying it. "Cameras had only recently been invented. They weren't very common and having a photo taken was pricey. But it was an interesting new invention and I couldn't resist."

Jo suddenly shut the album. She saw the slight smile on Henry's face fade. He worried he'd already said something wrong. She slowly set the album back on the table and gripped her knees with her hands not feeling very well all of sudden. She had almost started to believe Henry's story, that he was Abe's father. It was crazy but with the proof in front of her it had started to feel real. She kind of wanted it to be real. But that last picture was very old. Much older than the 1940's even. She was beginning to understand there was a lot more to his secret and that this was about to get even harder to believe.

Henry noticed the change in her attitude and her silence when she came to the end of the album. "What are you thinking?" he asked, worry in his voice.

"You're...not really 35 years old?" she asked chancing this as her first question. It was a stupid question since it was so obvious he wasn't 35 but she just felt she had to ask it. She had to have him confirm it before she could go any further.

Henry didn't make her feel silly for asking the question either. He gave her a straight honest answer. "No."

She leaned back away from him for a moment, thinking before leaning forward in close again. "You're not playing some sort of trick on me are you?"

"What?" he asked surprised at her question.

"Is this a joke? Are you trying to see if you can fool me?"

"No. Of course not. I wouldn't do that to you."

"That's really your grandfather or something right?" she said a bit of desperation in her voice. "It's just someone in your family that really looks like you and you're trying to make me believe it's you."

She was giving him an easy out if he wanted it. He was pretty sure he could agree with her and she would drop it. He knew how hard it was to accept this reality, to give up one that made sense, in exchange for this one that didn't and didn't offer any explanations either. He could see she was starting to believe him but it scared her. She didn't want to face this life and she was trying to turn away. She wanted him to deny it. He hated to make her have to accept this but he knew they couldn't go back. Not now. And for once he didn't want to either.

He took her hands and looked at her. "It really is me."

"But it can't be," Jo said, tears coming to her eyes for some reason. She wasn't quite sure why she felt like crying. She couldn't quite identity anything she was feeling exactly. She was just starting to feel overwhelmed by it all.

"I mean, when you say that Abe was your son…I believe it," she said looking up at him. "I shouldn't believe it but I do," she said disbelief in her voice that she really did believe it. "I see how much you love him and there isn't any way I can doubt it."

She was surprised that there was suddenly so much relief in Henry's face. She felt her distress building as this conversation went on but he appeared to be growing more relieved. "Thank you for believing me," he said sincerely.

That wasn't exactly what she had expected him to say. There was so much gratitude in the way he was looking at her it was like he had never expected her to believe him. But that was not the part she was struggling with the most. "I do believe this story of you finding and adopting Abe and being a solider in WW2 but…the pictures just continue they get older and older…" she said her voice trailing off. It sounded too crazy. She wanted to believe this but there was no way it could be true. She shouldn't let herself get attached to an idea that just couldn't be.

"You can ask your questions," he encouraged quietly when she didn't continue. "It's alright."

"But they sound crazy."

"That's alright. They have crazy answers," he said with a smile.

She returned it nervously. "O.K." she took a deep breath and began, starting simply. "So...you're a lot older than you look?"

"Yes," he agreed patiently.

"So, what? Are you on Aterna or something?"

He laughed remembering the drug they'd investigated on one of their first cases together. "Uh, no. I might act like I have holes in my brain at times, but assure you I'm not going to mess with anything that has such dire side effects."

She laughed slightly at his attempt to lighten the mood. "But to be Abe's father you would have to be, what? At least 90?"

"Ah, yeah at least," he said uncomfortably.

"You're older than that?"

"Just a bit."

"What? 100? 120?" she said stretching the limits of how long a human life could go.

Henry looked nervous before he answered. "I'm…I'm," he cleared his throat "235."

"235?" she repeated with disbelief.

"Yes."

She nodded her head, her forehead crinkling in concentration as she attempted to chew on that fact. "So, so, you were born when, exactly?" she asked unable at the moment to do the math herself.

Henry swallowed hard before answering. "1779."

"Oh. O.K.," she said nodding her head furiously as she looked down at her lap.

He looked at her nervously. "Are you, really?"

"Of course," she said. Henry could tell she was trying to be, but she wasn't at all. He always expected his news to be ill received so this was nothing new but he watched her with caution as she processed this new information.

She reached for the bottle of wine on the table and poured herself a full glass. "I mean, you just told me you're like more than two centuries old...which is humanly impossible but that's fine it's...really truly fine."

She then proceeded to down the entire glass in her hand in one go. Henry watched her anxiously like she was the crazy one. Maybe she was. She knew she was starting to spiral; she could feel it. She sounded hysterical and she felt it too. She suddenly wished she had something much stronger than wine in front of her. If she were drunk maybe she wouldn't know that she was going crazy. At any rate, she would care a whole lot less.

She started to pour another glass and she saw Henry start of make a move towards her but he stopped. Maybe he was going to try and stop her but he had decided (and wisely so) not to. He should have known anyway not to put alcohol in front of her when he was planning to drop news like this on her.

She thought about her situation as she knew it as she downed the second glass. She had believed Henry when he had first told her that Abe was his son. She shouldn't have but she did. Somehow, she had never doubted that. Surprisingly, Henry's grief over the loss of his child was all the proof she had needed to validate that point. And she had believed his story about how he had come to adopt Abe. It was unbelievable but it wasn't so far out of the normal for her to wrap her mind around.

But the fact the he was 235 years old was absolutely inconceivable. She could have maybe reasoned some explanation for his youthful face even if he had said he was 90 or 100 years old. It would have been hard but people did live that long and they had seen people look much younger than their age when they had worked that Aterna case. So even though that had all been extraordinary to consider it was plausible. But people did not live to be over 200 years. They didn't. That was impossible. What did the world even look like when Henry was born? She couldn't even consider it.

Finally, Henry could bear her silence no more. "Do you believe me?" he asked clear nervousness in his voice.

"No."

"Are you sure?" he asked. She was still there and still listening. She hadn't bolted yet and that was much more than could be said of some that he had told his secret to before.

"No," she admitted.

He smiled slightly at her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "This can't be true," she said. "Henry, people don't live to be 235. They just don't."

"I know."

"So…how can you?"

"I don't know. I don't age. I'm stuck being perpetually 35. Never getting older. But I don't know why."

It was unnerving for Henry to say that he didn't have any answers. He always had answers and when he didn't he sought them out. But she could see that even though he truly believed what he was saying, he really didn't know how it could be possible. She could see he wasn't withholding the information from her; he didn't have it to give.

"So, you don't age, at all?" she said repeating it, as if to solidify it in her mind. What was Henry becoming to her? She didn't want to lose Henry as she knew him. This was all so crazy and she was fearful that this was going to change everything.

"No," he confirmed to her again. "I wish I could offer you an explanation. I really do. But I don't know why I don't age. I've tried to find answers but they have eluded me."

Jo resisted the urge to grab the bottle off the table and drain it of the remaining liquid. She already felt like she might throw up which was probably mixed parts of having drank those two glasses so fast and trying to stomach Henry's news. Her head was starting to swim too, like reality itself was shifting around her.

"You were born and aged normally until 35? Everything was normal until then?"

"Yes."

"But why 35? What's so special about that age?"

Henry suddenly looked nervous, no frightened, at her at her words. There was more, even more to tell her and he was afraid of this part. That meant it was about to get even worse.

"What?" she asked urgently. "What is it?"

"Well," he said looking down. "I was 35 when I…"

"When you what?"

"When I...died for the first time," he said difficultly looking up at her.

"What?" she asked, her eyes widening. "Henry what are you saying?"

"I died in 1815, when I was 35."

"What do you mean you died?" she said standing up suddenly and glaring at him. "How can you have died when you're still here?"

Henry stood up beside her. He reached out his hands like he wanted to touch her. But he hesitated, leaving them cautiously outstretched between the two of them. "I know this must be hard to believe," he started to say but she soon cut him off.

"Of course, it's hard to believe! It's impossible to believe! What are you saying? You died and came back to life?" she said, starting to pace slowly around the room.

Henry followed her, leaving a safe distance between them. "Yes."

"So, what? You can't die? Is that what you're telling me?" she asked. She continued to walk slowly around the room, focusing on the floor. Things were definitely spinning now, like her mind was starting to detach from her body. She wondered if she might actually be in physical shock from the news. Is this what shock felt like? She worried for a moment that she might pass out. She always thought it was overly dramatic when people said that but she was beginning to feel like it might actually happen to her.

"Yes, Jo. I can't die. Well, that isn't entirely true," he amended. "I can die. I just can't stay dead. Every time I die I come back. I die and then I wake up again."

"You've died multiple times?" she asked, pressing her hand to her head. She had to be going insane. None of this was true.

Henry paused for a long time before he answered, like he was afraid to answer her question. "Yes."

"How can this be true?" she asked almost demanding as she whipped around suddenly to face him.

"I don't know!" he said desperately. He looked as if he might cry, overwhelmed himself with this conversation. It had started off so good but things were turning for the worse quickly. It was starting to go the way he always feared. "I wish I did but I just don't. That's why I became a ME. That's why I have all that weird stuff in my basement. I've been studying death so I can try and figure this all out."

She could tell that Henry was just as desperate for answers. But this was too much. She was completely overwhelmed. She'd had weeks to process Henry and Abe's relationship and she'd just barely come to accept that. But all this new information that he'd thrown at her was too much to bear. "I've got to get out of here," she finally said, almost to herself.

When she looked at Henry there was pure terror on his face. She could see the longing on there as well. He just wanted her to understand. Or at least accept what he was saying. Tears were definitely in his eyes now, just ready to spill over. She felt bad about that. He had cried so much lately and she didn't want to be the reason he was ready to now. But this was all too much. If she didn't get some space soon she was going to lose it entirely.

"Jo, wait," Henry said desperately reaching a hand out in the air towards her, wanting to beckon her back.

But she backed up a few more feet her hands held out as if to hold him away. "Henry, please."

"Don't leave," he begged her.

"I just need to get some air. I've just got to be alone for a few minutes. To think about this."

"Wait. Just let me-"

"Please, Henry. Just…please," she begged almost desperately as she rushed out of the room.

As hard as it was he decided to let her go. He sat back down on the couch heavily. The room was unbearably silent and lonely without her. He allowed himself to cry but for the first time in weeks Jo wasn't there to comfort him. She was gone and all that was left was to wait and see if she would return.

Jo didn't go downstairs and out away from the shop, as Henry assumed from his place on the couch. She went up and to the roof instead. It was cold, really too cold to be up there without her coat which she hadn't even thought to grab. She shivered but it was good. The biting cold helped to sober her a little and ground her a bit. She looked over the side, down on to the street below as she gripped the rail, trying to get a grip on herself. Below her, people scurried back and forth. Normal people with normal lives. People whose lives made sense, who weren't being forced to accept an impossible reality like she was. Her head spun and she forced herself to breathe normally.

She glanced back, briefly at the vacant table and chairs that were set up on the roof. This was where they'd had dinner the first time she'd been invited over. Her and Henry. And Abe. It was the memory of him that kept her from running right now. Honestly, that was what she felt the impulse to do. Everything Henry had said seemed so impossible on its own. She felt like she was incapable of accepting it and she just wanted to run away from it. But then she remembered Abe. Remembered that day he had spoken to her, of the request he'd had for her. She had seen that Abe had been weighed down, that he had felt heavy with some secret. A secret of Henry's that he had known but one he could not speak of. Is this really what he had known? Had he actually accepted all of this?

Jo thought about all the questions she'd had about Henry ever since she had met him, all the things about him that had never made sense. She'd always known he was hiding something. She'd known that from day one. She just hadn't known what it was. She could have found out if she really wanted to. She knew she could probably have figured it out if she had done some investigating. At the very least she could have found out enough to confront him on it and get him to tell her the full truth. And she had thought about it, briefly, when they had first met and she'd investigated his home. But as soon as she had gotten to know him, after that first case when she decided she wanted him as her partner, she had chucked the idea out. Whatever Henry was hiding she wanted him to tell her, willingly. She knew he wasn't a criminal so whatever it was could wait.

But even with her firm decision to wait those oddities had continued to pop up and remind her that there was more to him than he let on. There had been his interaction with Abe and how it had always hinted of something more than just family friends. There had been his odd style, tastes and habits and his aversion to anything modern that seemed suggest he belonged in another time. He had always talked as though he had the wisdom of an old man, certainly that of someone much older than himself. There had also been his need for privacy and the distance he kept from others. Even as she had felt them growing closer he had still concealed so much of himself for her as well. But she had brushed it all off as eccentricity for the time being, just so she could live with the numerous questions that surrounded him. She had always known there was more to it than that but she'd always hoped he'd explain it himself.

But the biggest point that came rushing to the forefront of her mind right now was his complete lack of self-preservation that had worried her on more than one occasion. How many times had he asked to be shot or had walked in front of a moving car? He'd done it without even caring too which had worried her immensely. She had been concerned he might have been suicidal; he didn't care if died because he wanted to die. But that wasn't it. It was because he had known he couldn't die.

All of those things that had never made sense about Henry now made perfect sense. Nothing else in this new reality seemed to make sense but those things she'd always wondered about now made sense, those questions could now be answered. The secret he'd just shared with her and everything she'd know about him seemed to support each other. He'd always seemed much older than his years; it was because he was much older than his years. He'd always acted as if he was invincible; it was because he was invincible. He had seemed to belong in the past because he'd been born in the past. It all fit together.

But how could Henry's life fit in with what she knew about the world? It was impossible, wasn't it? A person would have to insane to believe that they were immortal, wouldn't they? She allowed herself to consider for a moment, that Henry was actually crazy. Would that change anything? She was slightly surprised to find that it wouldn't. Maybe it shouldn't surprise her since he'd always been eccentric to her and maybe a little crazy. But now as she really considered, really thought about it and made a decision on the matter she found that it would not drive her away. Even if she had to visit him in a padded room she knew she would still want to spend as much time as she could with this man. She knew she was too deeply connected to him to walk away; she was too far to even want to try. With a prick in her heart she realized, maybe for the first time, that she loved him. She could never leave him.

Of course she knew that he wasn't crazy. Abe had known about this. This had been the secret he had known and he had believed it. She should allow herself to believe it too. He'd had a whole lifetime to think it over and still he had arrived at acceptance. He also must have known how unbelievable it all seemed because of the way he had urged her to stay with Henry.

Jo remembered the true terror in Henry's eyes when she had left. He'd been terrified, she could see. He was afraid of losing her. He was still so close to his grief, having already lost Abe and now he thought he would lose her too. She didn't want to lose him either. When she simplified all of this mess down it came down to one question: was she willing to lose him over this? Her answer was no. And she wouldn't lose him.

She remembered how Abe had told her that Henry wanted to trust her but that he'd been hurt in the past and didn't know how anymore. Tears came to her eyes as she considered it. Had Henry told someone and they hadn't believed him? Or worse had someone left him because of it? Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with the need to be there for him and a desire to stand by his side. She didn't want to abandon him or betray his trust. He had chosen to tell her and trust her and she wanted to show him that it had not been ill placed.

"Jo," Henry said, obviously relieved when she came back into the living room. He stood when she entered the room but he didn't approach her. He was clearly trying to give her space and allowed her to join him. "Thank you for coming back."

"Of course. I hadn't planned on leaving," she said as she sat back down on the couch.

"Of course not," he agreed as he sat with her though she knew he had thought that was exactly what she'd been doing. He smiled, trying to put on a brave front but she could tell it was only an act. She thought about how painful it must be to do that all of the time; never getting to be yourself, always having to pretend everything was fine, always having to wear a mask around others. It must be unbearable. His eyes were rimmed red and she felt awful. She hated herself for not handling his news better.

"I'm sorry," she said and those tears she'd had on the roof were back. "I really am sorry."

Henry eagerly pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around him and she felt as he stroked the back of her head with his hand. "It's alright. You have nothing to apologize for."

"I just…I should have handled this better."

"You are doing just fine," he said sincerely. "You're doing great actually. Really you are."

She sighed as Henry held her. She never wanted to give this up. "This is just a lot to take it in. It's a lot to believe in," she admitted.

"I know," he said gently nodding his head. He pulled back so that he could look at her. "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that this is so hard. But Jo I...I trust you."

Jo was startled at his declaration. She wasn't sure there was anything else more meaningful that he could have said. She wasn't even sure it would have meant as much if he had said he loved her. This was that and so many things all wrapped up in one. His trust was the thing he held most closely to himself. It was the last thing he ever gave to someone. And she could tell that he really meant it when he said he'd given it to her.

"I don't know if I deserve your trust," Jo admitted letting some of her fear set in. She knew that Henry's trust was something he hardly ever gave to anyone and it was something he never gave easily. She understood now why that was. To be handed a secret such as Henry's was a great responsibility and she wasn't sure she had earned the right to it.

Henry nodded his head slightly, considering what she was saying. "Do you plan on telling anyone what I've told you?" he asked.

"No," she answered suddenly with feeling and certainty. She was shocked to even consider such a thing. "Of course I won't."

"Do you...do you plan on leaving me?" he asked, looking in her eyes. This question was a lot more difficult for him to ask; there was a lot more at stake in this answer. There was so much insecurity in his voice and he let her see a bit of the fear in felt in receiving her answer.

Jo paused before answering. Henry deserved an honest answer and she wanted to make sure that when she answered she was certain.

"No," she said, steadfast and certain, knowing what her answer meant and agreeing to it fully.

"No, what?" he asked. He was pretty sure of what she said but he had to be certain. Had she really just said she wasn't going to leave him? He had always thought she couldn't believe his secret. He had been so afraid she would deny him he needed to hear her say it again.

"No, I'm not going to leave you," she said with a small smile, trying to reassure the rest of his doubt away.

Henry took her hand in his and in true chivalrous fashion kissed it before looking in her eyes. "Then you, most certainly, deserve my trust."

There were tears in his eyes. Something told her that trust was not a gift he was able to give often. She could tell it was a gift he wanted to give.

"Well," she said tears in her own eyes too, "maybe I can believe you're 235," she said with a smile.

"Why is that?"

"Who kisses a girl's hand like that anymore?"

He laughed, really laughed and smiled at her fondly. "What can I say? I'm nothing if not traditional."

"What 18th century traditional?"

He was surprised, pleasantly so, that she was joking about this already. "Yes, something like that."

"I still think you might be crazy," she said, half a joke, half still the truth.

He laughed. "You're not thoroughly convinced of it? We're doing alright then."

"Well, I'm also equally convinced that I might be crazy."

"I can assure you, you aren't crazy." He pulled her back into a hug. Though he was joking now she could feel how relieved he was. She was relieved too.

"I can answer any more questions you have," he offered.

"I'm sure there is a lot more to tell. But I think I have heard about all I can handle right now," she said, feeling completely worn out from all they'd already gone through.

"Fair enough."

There was a pause before he spoke again. "I'm really glad I can talk to you about this. I really hated lying to you. I'm glad you know the truth now," he said so quietly it almost sounded like a secret.

There it was again. In Henry's voice there was sincerity. It was another thing to chip away at her reason and push her to yield to something else: faith. She always thought in facts and evidence but she couldn't rely on them now while still believing Henry. She had to trust him and lean on the strength of their relationship.

"Me too," she agreed with him.

Jo still wasn't sure she was ready to believe all of this. She also wasn't sure that Henry wasn't completely mad. But there was one thing she was sure of: she wasn't going to lose him over this. Henry was her best friend and always would be. And Abe was right; Henry did need someone. Henry had given his trust to her to be that person and she was going to do everything she could to be that person, even if it took her a while to accept this all. Because just as Henry needed her, she needed him too.