Forever

Students

"Dude, I'm sorry." Henry awoke in the back of a car, his hands tied behind his back. His shoulder ached and a metallic taste filled his mouth, probably from lack of saliva while he slept. Jo lay next to him, slumped in the torn leather cushioning. A gash scraped across her head and Henry felt instinctively to check for discoloration or liquid that wasn't blood. He shook his head-couldn't resort to Field Medic Mode out here. The chill night still found a way to weave through the car, even though it had recently had the heater on.

"Sorry's not gonna cut it. What the hell posessed you idiots to use guns?! I told you; We need these guys alive. The docter guy, wa's his name?"

"Henry Morgan. Really old-No one in this city wears clothes like that anymore." The voice replied.

"Good. That's the guy with the bounty on his head. Our man, Adam'll be glad to hear that." The voice belonged to Fred. And bounty? Henry swallowed, admitting to himself that Jo might not survive. That meant 'Adam' wanted him dead. No, that wasn't right; He couldn't die. 'Adam' wanted to prove something. And get a kick out of seeing him walk around naked in the middle of the night.

Jo groaned and shifted in place, pushing the leather cushioning right into the wound. He suppressed a sharp cry and took as much note of his surroundings as he could. The doors and buildings would prove useful to any future escape they might be able to make.

"Henry?" Jo asked, sitting up. Ow-The gash was worse than he'd been able to previously see.

"Yes, Detective?" He murmered, peering out the window to try and see through the viel of inky blackness to their captors.

"Any way we can get free?"

"I have an idea, but it will involve-"

"How's your shoulder?" She twisted her head and stared at the bloodstained part to his coat, bringing her bound hands up from her lap to peel the bloody, sticky fabric away.

"Detective, I really wouldn't do that if I were- Ahh!" He craned his neck to look at the bullet wound, dripping fresh blood now that he had moved and aggravated it.

"Relax. The bullet's still in the muscle, and if I look I can see..... Holy shit, it's in the bone!"

She was most likely just exaggerating-He'd been in the field long enough to know that people without medical training tended to do just that-but it still sent a tremor through his gut at the very thought of a bone-inlaid bullet.

"Hey! What're ya doin' in there, ya pea brained ninnies?!" A thick-set man, apparently Scottish, as to his use of the words, banged on the glass. He looked into the car, sneering at the two.

"Get your hands off him! You guys trying' to do it or sumphin'?" He muttered, stepping away into the night.

"Thank God he's gone." Jo said, resuming her uncomfortable (And very awkward) Search of his wound. Her fingers moved with such swiftness, such accuracy, he'd barely had time to moan with pain before she was moving on to another part of it. "Done. It's clean, and I can probably reach it if I tried to-"

"No, no, that-That won't be nessascary. Thank you, Detective," Henry said quickly, turning his body so it would be more difficult for her to touch it again with her hands bound like that. With relief, he sighed when Jo didn't press the issue and began wiping her hands of his blood on her handkerchief. It left a dark red stain on the soft fabric, and for some reason it reminded Henry of his immortality. He couldn't die, but others did. He couldn't love, but others did. What had he done wrong that made him like that?

His thoughts were jarred by his side door opening, and someone roughly pulling him out of the vehicle. Henry was thrown to the pavement with an audible thud and watched with pain-fogged eyes as Jo was removed too. The man whom was handling them was Fred.

"Hello, friends." He greeted mockingly. He looked at Henry and said, "Prevyet."

He stiffened. 'Prevyet' was a friendly way of saying 'hello' to a friend. Formal ways of saying it would be required for the exchange, seeing as the two didn't know each other.

"Well, aren't you gonna answer?" A voice said, from behind Henry. Twisting his head, he saw who it was.

It was 'Adam'.