A/N: Nope. Still don't own Forever… I hope you enjoy the rest of what I came up with for the 'Big Reveal Ficathon.'
"Hanson, are you all right?" Henry's words brought Hanson back to reality. He had been staring into space for a few minutes straight.
"Huh? Oh yeah…I'm okay, Doc," Hanson replied absentmindedly. He thought he had dreamed the whole thing the previous night. Finding a small shard of glass on the kitchen floor tossed that theory out the window.
"Abraham said you were exhausted last night," Henry continued to make conversation, "Everything okay at home? The repairs going smoothly?"
Hanson continued to stare into space.
"Hanson?" Henry was growing concerned. He waved a hand in front of Hanson's face, "Mike?"
Shaking his head with widened eyes, Hanson focused on Henry without really seeing him. His thoughts were racing with what he heard.
"Is there something wrong?" Henry furrowed his brows.
"I…" Hanson started, "I'm just tired."
"Right," Henry wasn't fully buying it, but he'd let it go for now.
"We should get going," Henry stood up and wrapped his scarf around his neck. Hanson looked up at Henry unblinking and it was starting to freak him out. He sat back down and shifted his chair to fully face Hanson, "All right. There's something wrong, Detective. What's going on?"
"Did anything happen after I left you and Jo yesterday?" Hanson rasped out. His eyes met Henry's.
"We went to visit the man from the sketch Dr. Taylor provided us," Henry shrugged, "Speaking of which… I have a gut feeling about him. We should look into him a bit more. I have a feeling he might be our killer."
"A feeling, huh?" Hanson looked down.
Before Henry could open his mouth to respond, Hanson's next words made Henry's heart practically stop, "I heard you last night."
"Heard what?" Henry reverted to his default setting of denying everything.
"I've been going it over and over again in my head," Hanson tapped the side of his head, "My rational mind says that I've gone crazy or you have… the other part, the part that's seen you in action for the better part of a year says that there's got to be some truth to it – as impossible as it sounds."
Henry's Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, "What did you hear?"
"I heard you say that you died last night," Hanson still couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth, "That you were murdered. Our third victim."
"That's ridiculous," Henry stood up.
"Don't patronize me, Doc. I'm not crazy, Henry," Hanson also got up and blocked Henry's path, "And neither are you… Please… Tell me. What. Is. Going. On?"
Another lie was ready at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to spout it. Instead, Henry let out a long defeated sigh, "I was murdered last night."
"How is that possible?" Hanson sat back down as did Henry.
"I promise I'll tell you everything later," Henry promised, "The important thing right now is to catch this killer and put him behind bars."
"So this guy that you and Jo talked to last night is the killer?" Hanson accepted Henry's word. He was right. They had a murderer to catch. That was their priority.
"Yes," Henry nodded, "He must be… I fit the profile he's been after. My initials are HM, I have an old watch and he killed me in the same time window as our other two victims."
"Tell me what happened," Hanson was ready to listen.
"Jo and I went back to the precinct after you left us," Henry began, "I went down to the morgue and she upstairs to her desk. We resumed everything as normal until Dr. Taylor came by to work with the sketch artist. After she was done, Jo came down to my office and we headed off to see the man when there was a hit on his identity: Thomas Fairwell."
"How'd you find out who he was?" Hanson asked.
"He popped up in the system for minor theft about six months ago," Henry explained, "Plus his name even seemed familiar to Jo from Harrison's files."
"So he's connected to both our vics," Hanson nodded and added as an afterthought, "Three vics."
"Yes," Henry leaned further on the table, closer to Hanson, "She saw his name in one of Harrison's cases in that briefcase. Anyway, Jo and I went down to go talk to him…"
The night before…
Henry and Jo arrived in front of their suspect's door. Jo reached out and knocked three times, "Mr. Fairwell?"
"What?" Thomas bit as he opened the door a crack. The chain to his lock was still connected. He took in Jo and Henry before him.
"My name's Detective Martinez. This is my partner Dr. Morgan. We just have a few questions for you, Mr. Fairwell," Jo revealed her badge attached to her belt and nodded to Henry in introduction.
The door shut and opened again, this time wider to let in the duo. Looking around, it was obvious the man before them had a little obsession with clocks. Of course, saying 'little' would be generous. The walls of his apartment were covered with all sorts of clocks ranging from cuckoo to cats.
"What's this about?" Thomas folded his arms.
"We're investigating the murders of Harrison Morton and Harriet Montoya," Jo tore her eyes from the eyes of a cat clock ticking away, giving her the creeps, to look at him.
"Who?" Thomas shook his head.
"The doctor you spoke to trying to appraise her watch and the lawyer you went to about a few months ago…" Henry said.
"They're dead?" Thomas' eyebrows disappeared behind his fringe.
"I thought you didn't know who they were," Jo tried to catch him in a lie.
"Look, I don't want any trouble," Thomas shook his head and put his hands up in a placating gesture, "Sorry about their deaths, but I have nothing to do with it. I've been trying to go straight after my little shoplifting spree six months ago."
"Is that why you went to Mr. Montoya?" Jo cocked her head to the side, "He was supposed to defend you?"
"He was one of the lawyers the court tried to appoint me. Some pro bono case or something," Thomas shrugged, "I saw him like once. That's why I didn't know who you were talking about."
"What about Dr. Montoya? How did your paths cross?" Henry inquired.
"We shared a passion of time pieces," Thomas explained and gestured to their surroundings, "If you can't tell… I like clocks. The older the better. We met through a forum about antique watches and she wanted to meet. I only knew her by her screen name HMontoya."
"It's funny how two people you've crossed paths with are now dead within a week of each other, Mr. Fairwell," Jo stepped closer to him.
"It's a big city. Coincidences happen," Thomas practically sneered.
"Never ignore coincidences… especially one that big," Henry said from the other end of the room. Neither Jo nor Thomas noticed his movement.
"Hey, get away from that!" Thomas' voice went up when he saw Henry leaning in close to a clock on his mantle.
"Just admiring," Henry replied with his hands clasped behind his back, "It looks to be a genuine antique from 1915."
"Yeah," Thomas' tension eased at Henry's knowledge, "How'd you know that?"
"I dabble in the antiques game," Henry smirked.
"Henry," Jo warned him and turned back to Thomas, "Just tell us where you were between the hours of nine pm and midnight a week ago and last night. Then we'll be out of your hair."
"I was home," Thomas replied.
"Can anyone corroborate that?" Jo wrote it down in her small notepad.
"Just the clocks," Thomas deadpanned as he continued to watch Henry out of the corner of his eye. Henry was looking at his collection of pocket watches lined up on a table by the window.
"Right," Jo gave him a half-hearted smile, "Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Fairwell… Come on, Henry."
"Yes," Henry snapped his own pocket watch shut and put it back in his pocket, "It is getting a little late."
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Fairwell," Henry echoed Jo's statement. He simply nodded in response, his eyes cast in the direction of Henry's pocket. Jo and Henry seemed oblivious to his gaze as they exited his apartment.
"That was uncomfortable," Jo commented as they rode the elevator down to the lobby.
"Indeed," Henry agreed, "With his obsession with clocks and watches, he seems like a good suspect to me… though it might be too obvious."
"Sometimes the obvious is the answer," Jo stepped off the elevator with Henry following, "It is getting kinda late. Do you want a ride home?"
"No thank you, Jo," Henry shook his head, "It's a nice night. I think I'll walk."
"Goodnight, Henry," Jo headed off to her car with a smile.
"Goodnight, Jo," Henry mirrored her smile and walked off in the opposite direction, completely unaware of another pair of eyes on his retreating back.
After a few moments of walking, taking in the beautiful night air, Henry let out a startled yelp of surprise when he felt himself yanked into an alley. As his mouth formed the shape to say Thomas' name, he was face-to-face with the barrel of a 9mm gun. The only thought Henry had time to think of before the gun went off was: God, I hate getting shot.
The bullet went clean through his head. Henry dropped like a brick to the hard cement. As he breathed his last breath of air before his tunnel vision of memories began, he could've sworn he felt Thomas root through his pockets. The familiar weight of his father's pocket watch left him and in the next moment, he bobbed out of the water of the East River with a gasping breath.
"Oh, God," Hanson breathed.
"After that, I found a payphone and called Abe with some change a few drunken teens gave me," Henry said, "The rest you know when we got home."
"So this guy is escalating from shoplifting to murder for watches?" Hanson couldn't comprehend it.
"There has to be more to the story than that," Henry agreed, "It's almost as if he was searching for a specific watch. I thought I heard him yell out a small 'Yes' when he took my watch… though my word can't be too reliable. I did have a bullet go through my head at the time."
"Yeah, still not processing that too well, Doc," Hanson remarked.
"Sorry," Henry immediately apologized, "The important thing is that we know we have our killer. But how do we bring him in without alerting him to me being alive? Or without revealing my secret?"
"We'll think of something," Hanson leaned back in his chair.
"Where have you two been all morning?" Jo asked when she saw Hanson and Henry approach her desk.
"Late night," Henry spun the truth into something believable. Something he did best over the last two centuries, "When I got home last night, Abe wasn't feeling too well and I stayed up with him. Hanson was gracious enough to assist."
"Oh. Hanson's quite the model houseguest, huh?" Jo smirked. Her teasing eyes didn't leave Hanson until he sat across from her at his own desk.
"The best," Henry replied genuinely, "I brought Hanson up to speed on the way over with our meeting with Thomas Fairwell last night."
"Yeah," Jo looked to her other partner, "What do you think about the guy, Hanson?"
"I think he's our guy," Hanson got up from his chair and took to leaning against Jo's desk.
"Just because somebody's creepy doesn't necessarily make them a killer," Jo countered, "We learned that with our first case with Henry."
Jo gave Henry a sarcastic grin which he returned. Hanson broke the look between them, "Yeah, well, trust me, Jo. I've got a gut feeling about this guy. Henry agrees with me."
"Me too, but we have to get more on him," Jo nodded in agreement, "Which is why I spent my morning researching Thomas Fairwell and his "little" obsession with clocks and watches."
"What'd you find?" Hanson asked.
Jo turned to her computer and started clicking to find the right page, "Our tech guys found his screenname and all his posts on this clock forum he mentioned last night."
Henry leaned in on her right side and Hanson on her left. Sandwiched in between her two boys, Jo continued, "Most of his posts were about antique watches… or more specifically pocket watches. He found this story about one that might grant its owner immortality."
"Immortality?" Henry stood up straight. Hanson gave Henry a quick look before Jo swiveled her chair around and got up, "I know, right? Crazy."
"Yeah, crazy," Henry gave an uneasy laugh.
"This story he kept posting about was about the lore of this pocket watch from the early nineteenth century. According to his belief and this story, whoever had this watch would never be able to die," Jo explained, "The only information he was able to garner about the owner of this supposed watch was that their initials were HM… but he didn't know if they were male or female."
"That explains his targets," Hanson folded his arms.
"We better figure out something quick to get this guy," Jo said, "'Cause it's not like we can put protective details of every person in New York with those initials."
"Maybe we can set him up," Hanson started to theorize.
"How do you mean?" Jo asked.
"Henry has those initials," Hanson nodded to said medical examiner.
"Oh no," Jo was immediately against the idea, "No. Henry already has no self-preservation instincts. And we're not putting a friend, let alone a civilian in the line of fire…"
"Henry and I already put a plan into motion this morning," Hanson said.
"And you didn't think to run it by me first?" Jo was offended.
"We knew you wouldn't go for the idea," Henry replied. He and Hanson had finally come up with a plan before coming to work. It was far-fetched but it would keep his secret and bring a murderer to justice.
Jo let out a long sigh, "Fine. What's the plan?"
"We'll fill you in down in my office," Henry smiled akin to that time he announced that he and Jo should gas themselves for the hack-tivist case they had a little while back.
"You're kidding me," Jo couldn't believe what Hanson and Henry just told her.
"It's perfect, Jo," Hanson tried to convince her.
"I like it," Lucas said. He joined them in Henry's office when he saw them all come down. Hanson and Henry had called him before coming in and told him their plan. They needed his help as well.
"Jo, his behavior at his apartment was jumpy and on edge," Henry began.
"That could have to do with the fact that he's guilty, Henry," Jo returned.
"Based on my observations, and in my professional opinion, he'd be prone to different types of delusions," Henry continued.
"But what you two are talking about is nuts. It's all going off of assumptions," Jo wasn't convinced, "And you know what happens when people assume."
"Yeah, yeah," Hanson knew the old joke, "You make an ass out of you and me."
"Trust us, Jo," Henry pleaded, "It will work."
"So Lucas uses his horror make-up on you to make it look like you were shot in the head," Jo repeated the plan, "And Hanson and I are supposed to arrest him for your fake murder…"
"Yes," Henry nodded, "He had his eyes on my pocket watch. We introduced ourselves so he knows that my initials are HM… it stands to reason I'd be a target for him. In his deluded mind, for all we know, he might be under the impression he already killed me."
"We could just put you in protective custody until we get him another way, Henry. This plan is too far-fetched. Even for you," Jo was still hesitant.
"That won't do any good," Hanson argued. He knew that Henry was already killed by this psychopath – as hard as it was for him to wrap his mind around that fact – they needed to catch the killer with a live victim, "This will work, Jo. Has Henry ever steered us wrong before?"
"No," Jo knew it to be true, "Okay. Let's go, Hanson. Lucas, just text one of us when you two are done with Henry's dead make-up job."
"Will do, Detective," Lucas saluted.
"Let's get started, Lucas," Henry turned to his assistant once Hanson and Jo left his office. He tapped the spot on his forehead where he was actually shot, "Make the bullet hole here."
"You got it, Doc," Lucas got to work.
"So, are you two gonna let me know what the hell this is about?" Thomas looked between Jo and Hanson. They were all seated in the interrogation room. Hanson and Jo were seated across from him. Thomas let out a huff, "I already told you that I have nothing to do with those murders of that lawyer and doctor."
"You're not here for that murder," Hanson pushed a file over to Thomas. A picture of Henry with the death make-up fell out of it, "Recognize him?"
"Isn't that the guy that was in my apartment with you?" Thomas raised an eyebrow.
"Yes," Jo steeled herself.
"And you think I killed him? What reason could I possibly have for killing a guy I just met?" Thomas defended himself.
"You tell us," Hanson countered, "You've got a little thing going for watches and antiques… Detective Martinez here told me you were a bit in awe at Doctor Morgan's knowledge of some of your collection."
"That doesn't mean I killed him," Thomas shook his head.
Jo opened her mouth to say something else when the lights shut off in the room, "Damn it."
"Maintenance really needs to get on these lights," Hanson commented as he got up and played with the switches. After a moment, the lights came back on and an undead Henry stood by the entrance.
Lucas did a fantastic job with Henry's make-up. Henry looked every bit of a solid ghost – complete with a medically accurate bullet hole in his forehead.
"What the hell?!" Thomas yelled and jumped out of his chair.
"You okay, Thomas?" Jo asked.
"How? That's not how it's supposed to happen… that's not what the watch is supposed to do…" Thomas was rambling.
"What are you talking about, Thomas? What's wrong?" Hanson came around the interrogation table at Thomas now on the ground backing away from an advancing Henry.
"Don't you guys see him?!" Thomas was against the wall now.
"See who?" Jo and Hanson asked. They looked in Henry's direction and then back to Thomas.
"There's nobody in here but us," Hanson said.
"No… no, no, no," Thomas was terrified. Henry stepped even closer to Thomas, cocking his head to the side and reaching out for him. Thomas yelled out, "NO! You can't be here! You're dead! I shot you! I killed you!"
Henry retreated his hand and backed up. Slowly he made his way out of the interrogation room as the lights went out and back on.
"Who did you kill, Thomas?" Jo couldn't believe their insane plan actually worked. They got a confession out of him.
"I killed them. I killed your friend and that doctor and lawyer. I just wanted to live forever… The watch was supposed to help. I'm too scared of dying," Thomas rocked back and forth on the floor.
"Thomas Fairwell, you're under arrest for the murders of Harrison Morton and Harriet Montoya," Jo got up and handcuffed a still shaking Thomas.
Thomas continued to mutter under his breath about how he should never have searched for such an impossible watch in the first place. Jo led him out of the interrogation room and got started on processing his arrest.
Hanson made his way into the observation room to be greeting by a grinning Lucas and Henry wiping off some of the make-up.
"I can't believe that worked," Hanson shook his head.
"Lucas' trick with the lights and the convincing make-up job helped," Henry gestured to his face.
"I think it was Henry's zombie acting that really cinched it," Lucas commented, "Reaching out for him was genius, Doc."
"Yes, well, Abraham has made me watch one too many monster movies over the years," Henry replied.
Jo came in the room with a shake of her head, "That was crazy. I don't know how you knew he would've deluded himself into thinking he actually killed you."
"Sometimes, you just have to trust me, Jo," Henry smiled as he wiped the last of the make-up off. There were still some smudges that a more thorough face wash would take care of later.
"I'm going to get started on this paperwork," Jo started to back out of the room, "I'll see you guys later."
"And I should probably get back to the morgue," Lucas gathered all of his gadgets and monster make-up kit into his arms.
Hanson and Henry were left in the room together. At Hanson's staring, Henry couldn't help but let out an uneasy, "What?"
"Still processing everything," Hanson replied, "But I thought… you should probably have this back."
Hanson reached into his pocket and took out Henry's pocket watch, "I swiped it from Thomas' possessions in evidence before he came down to interrogation. I figured it would spark too many questions as to how he got it from you."
"Thank you," Henry was touched.
"Yeah, well," Hanson shrugged. He was still not too great at that emotional stuff, "I better go help Jo with all the paperwork. Even though it was technically a triple homicide, all the official stuff will mark it only as a double… still a lot of stuff to write."
Henry just nodded.
"See you at home, Henry," Hanson left.
"See you at home," Henry breathed to an empty room.
"Detective Hanson knows about you now?" Abe had to ask again. Henry came home early to gather everything he put away for Hanson's stay to share his story.
"Yes," Henry replied, "Or at least for the moment, he only knows that I come back from the dead. He doesn't know much else."
"He overheard us the other night," Abe looked apologetic.
"Don't blame yourself, Abraham," Henry knew that look, "Detective Hanson happened to be in the kitchen when we returned from my reawakening. It's just as much my fault as yours. He does seem to be taking it well though."
"Well, let me know if you need your old son's help in any of the story telling," Abe said.
"Will do," Henry gave his son a small smile. Hanson came into view just as Abe made himself scarce.
"You know, part of me was still skeptical about the whole you being murdered last night and living to tell the tale thing," Hanson opened.
"To be expected," Henry replied.
"How many times have you died?" Hanson sat in Abe's chair and Henry took a seat on the adjoining couch.
"If you mean in total, I've honestly lost count," Henry said, "If you mean since I started working with you and Jo… I still sort of have lost count."
"That's quite a few times," Hanson let out an uneasy laugh.
"You're tense," Henry observed.
"It's not every day you learn your friend is immortal," Hanson countered.
"Touché," Henry leaned back. At Henry's more relaxed posture, Hanson followed suit, letting some of the tension roll off of him.
"Why don't you start at the beginning?" Hanson suggested when a few moments of silence passed between the two men.
"For starters, I'm a lot older than I look," Henry began.
"You a grandpa?" Hanson teased.
Henry laughed, "No… not technically. Abe never had any children."
"You're Abe's father?" Hanson's eyebrows went up.
"Yes," Henry replied, "And before you go on, let me just say that I'm a lot older than in my nineties."
Hanson remained silent to let Henry tell his whole story.
"I was born in 1779," Henry revealed, "The first time I was killed was aboard a slave ship called The Empress Of Africa in 1814 by a gunshot to the chest."
"That ship that came up during that one investigation," Hanson connected the dots, "You were actually on it?"
"My first death," Henry nodded, "I still don't know why or how I return in water… I just know that I feel the pain of every death. I just don't stay dead."
"Two hundred years," Hanson let out a whistle, "Next time I complain about my age, you have my permission to give me a smack."
"Will do," Henry smiled, "Ask anything you'd like to know."
"Why don't you tell me more about your watch?" Hanson suggested, "Does it actually make you immortal?"
"I don't think my curse has anything to do with it actually," Henry remarked, "If it had, I might've died long ago. It was lost after my first death at the bottom of the ocean. I didn't get it back until well over a century later."
"Sorry about the goggles and Speedo," Hanson apologized out of the blue.
"I beg your pardon?" Henry didn't understand.
"When you were arrested for skinny dipping," Hanson clarified, "I wanted to apologize for giving you goggles and a Speedo… for teasing you about your swim. If I had known that you had actually died…"
"No need for apologies, Hanson," Henry assured him, "You had no way of knowing."
"Still," Hanson shrugged.
"Apology accepted," Henry knew that's what his friend wanted to hear.
They hit another silence until Hanson broke it, "I'm sure after living for over two hundred years, you probably have quite a few stories. Why don't you tell me some?"
"Some of them can get quite long," Henry said.
"I'm not going anywhere," Hanson leaned back. He felt far more comfortable than he had at the beginning of the conversation, "I'm living here right now, remember?"
"Yes," Henry nodded, "And you're still quite the model houseguest."
Henry and Hanson talked long into the night. It felt good to have another person know about his secret. Maybe in time, Jo would be come to learn about his immortality, but for the time being, Henry was content in knowing he had one more trusting friend in Detective Mike Hanson.
THE END
A/N: *phew* The characters take on their own life, don't they? This one is my longest Forever story to-date. I hope you guys liked it. I know there are a couple of Hanson reveal stories out there, but I think I had a unique spin on it. Please let me know what you think and leave a review if you can. Don't forget to check out all the other amazing stories for the 'Big Reveal' Ficathon' over on AO3 (and some of them are here too). :)
PS: There's an amazing (relatively) new forum that the amazing kythe42 has created for Forever. It's not very active at the moment, but that can change if you guys register and check it out. It's a lot easier to discuss and keep track of topics over there than on Tumblr. Go check it out if you can! The URL is forever-tv . proboards . com