Falling Apart

 Henry didn't remember when it was that it had all fallen apart. He could remember burying Abe--the unseasonable chill that had frozen his tears to his face had made the digging take hours longer than it should have, and one does not often forget sobbing through more than eight hours of digging. He remembered Detective Martinez picking him up from the grave the next morning, and he remembered her draping a blanket over his shoulders as if it could do anything to warm up his already frozen through body or heal his grieving mind. He even remembered when he had insisted that he leave and she had insisted that no man should be alone right after losing someone. He remembered ignoring her advice and leaving anyways, and maybe that was what had caused it, but he still didn't remember exactly how it had started.

He didn't remember when the first time he skipped work because of one too many sleeping pills was. He didn't remember when one sleeping pills had turned into three and then more until he was sleeping through not only the nights but the days as well. He remembered Jo coming over, remembered her telling him it was unhealthy and remembered falling asleep before she could finish her lecture on the dangers of abusing medicine.

He didn't remember when it was that the long lonely nights become too much and he started playing with his knifes. He didn't remember when the cuts he lined up along his wrists and neck stopped being a test to see how deep he could cut without dying and turned into a sick pleasure. He didn't remember exactly when it was that the scarves stopped being a fashion statement and started being nothing more than a way to cover the thin scars that lined his neck in between deaths. He remembered Jo joking about a new style, and remembered the blank look on his face as he shook his head. He remembered the hurt look on her face when he pulled away as she tugged at his scarf.

He didn't remember when Jo found out about his immortality, and he didn't know when it was that he lost the will to live and just let himself drown again and again in the same river he woke up in each time. He didn't remember when he stopped living for anything other than those brief moments of oblivion between each death and awakening and the burn in his lungs as they filled with water. He remembered Jo wading into the river and dragging him out with her, remembered her wrapping a towel around him and forcing him into new clothes.

He didn't remember when he started missing work all too often, didn't remember when the sight of a dead body first made him cry so much. He didn't remember when it was that he lost all sense of time and spent entire days sitting in his office, staring at nothing. He didn't remember when he started spending more time just staring at the knife in his kit than actually used it. He remembered when Lucas stood up to the lieutenant, assuring her that Henry was doing fine. He remembered when Jo had taken him out to dinner and told him with eyes full of tears that she understood he was in pain, but he needed to get his act together.

He didn't remember when he had stopped wearing his suits or when his jacket had gotten buried under heaps of dirty laundry. He didn't know when he stopped caring how tired he looked every morning, or when he first stopped wearing his pocketwatch. He remembered Jo walking into his office and forcing him into one of his normal outfits, even clipping his pocket watch back to his vest. He remembered the pain in her eyes as she tried to reassure him that it would be okay.

He didn't remember when his resolve to not drink himself into oblivion broke. He didn't know when he started getting lost in the bottle more times than could be good for his body. He didn't remember when spending nights in drunken tears and mornings vomiting had began to seem favorable to facing the world. He remembered Jo coming over, remembering cleaning out his house, tidying up as she took away every bottle of alcohol he owned and hid them away somewhere he couldn't find them. He remembered the sad disappointment in her eyes as he cried on her shoulder until the alcohol was out of his system.

He didn't remember when those brown eyes had started to mean so much to him. He didn't remember when her smiles started to make everything okay, and he didn't remember when he started to need her more than any of the things he had used to shut himself out. He didn't know when he had fallen in love with her. He remembered when she leaned over his kitchen counter at his house and and he could see his own sadness reflected in her beautiful eyes. He remembered her leaning in and kissing him. He remembered kissing back.

He didn't remember when Jo moved in. He didn't remember when he started taking her places even though he still couldn't bring himself to smile. He didn't remember when he started seeing a reason to get out of bed in the morning again. He remembered the look of awe on Jo's face when he got them reservations for the very top of the empire state building, and he remembered the feeling it left in his stomach when she told him she loved him, and he remembered the pure joy on her face when he said it back.

He didn't remember when he started wearing suits again, or when his hair was no longer left to grow out into a mess. He didn't remember when picking up his pocket watch up off the bathroom counter became a habit again, or when he started tying scarves around his neck again because he thought they looked nice instead of to hide something. He remembered Jo ripping a scarf from his neck and smiling when she saw his clear neck, and he remembered the way it felt when Jo had wrapped him in her arms.

He didn't remember when he started going to work again. He didn't remember when he took his place back like he had never left, and he didn't remembered when he had started doing autopsies just as often as he used to, or when he started using his desk for work again. He remembered Lucas practically throwing a party when he returned, and he remembered Jo laughing and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He remembered the way Lucas' eyes had bugged out when he had seen him kiss Jo and his enthusiastic congratulations.

He didn't remember when he let himself smile again. He didn't remember when his mouth started turning up at the corners at Lucas's antics or the feel of Jo's hand in his own. He remembered when he smiled against Jo's lips and she pulled away from the kiss with a look of pure shock and joy. He remembered her wrapping her arms around his neck and muttering that it was good to have him back into his hair.

He didn't remember when things went back to normal. He didn't remember everyone stopped sneaking glances at him out of the corner of their eyes to make sure he was okay. He didn't remember when he really started being okay. He didn't remember when he stopped always wanting to be gone and started really looking around him. He didn't remember when his smiles became more common than his tears. He didn't remember when he stopped thinking about how much he had lost and still had yet to lose and started thinking about everything he had to gain. He did, remember, more than anything else, the look on Jo's face when he went down on one knee and pulled a ring from his pocket. He remembered the pure joy one her face when she said yes, and he remembered how happy it had made him.

He remembered that Jo had saved him.