Forever

Too Late

"Dad, you up here?" Abraham's voice pierced the thick viel that had fallen over his vision, a murky blackness tugging at his mind. He was crouched, over the fallen book and the note, gripping his stomach and muttering her name over and over again. He felt hands clutch his shoulder and a voice call his name. A lighter tone broke that of Abraham's and for a minute hope prickled in his chest, then faded as a factual memory replaced that of the longing for Abigail.

"God, is he alright?" Who was that woman? Ah, yes, the Detective, Jo Martinez. She was okay. Not a stupid lady who only wished to kiss and not to carry a real conversation-

"Yeah, he's fine. Must be dehydrated."

Feeling his stomach churn with utter regret and despair, Henry turned his head to the side and vomited. He heard Jo call his name. Blearily, he looked up.

"That further backs up the need for a drink."

"No, it's not that...." Henry sighed and stood up, shakily gathering the journals. He slipped the note into his- Obnoxiuosly uncomfortable- Jean pocket, not daring to let anyone catch a glimpse of it. Abraham patted his back and started for the stairs. "I'm alright now."

"What was that? You drink any water lately?"

"Yes, it was something else, and I know I'm not sick. Regret..... Would be the proper word for it."

"Regret? Where the hell would-" Her eyes fell on the leather carved H + A. "Oh. It's Abigail, isn't it?"

"I would much appreciate it if you not get involved, Detective." He took the creaking wooden steps only one step a time, not trusting his grief-stricken legs to fully carry his weight. Jo tread beside him, taking the note from Adam from his hand. Almost immediately, he realized his mistake and lunched forward, ripping it from her grasp like it was a barrel of gunpowder and she a loaded cannon.

"Hey, what?!"

"It's not for you!' He grunted, smoothing out the wrinkled paper. She pulled the corner of her mouth up and in, something he knew how to identify as 'You've Been A Jerk Lately And You'd Better Stop Before Someone Hurts You, AKA Me.'

"I'm sorry for my recent behavior. I've been out of sorts...." Henry pulled open the door, dismayed by the obvious shaking of his arm. The note from Abigail had truly thrown him off balance, destroying the carefully-built wall around his heart and mind. Without it he felt alone, truly alone.

"You know, I can see how that would happen. It's been like that for.... Me... "She took a deep breath and went out into the brisk morning air. ".... Me and my husband....."

Henry followed, closing the oaken door shut and cursing the memories it brought back. Abraham waited in the car, ready to drive. He pulled open the door and allowed Jo to have the front seat, and crawled into the backseat, ready to go home and read the-

Damn it.

"Abraham, go to Morgan Drive!" He said, sitting straight up. Both turned in their seats and gave him a confused look.

"You last name is-"

"Detective, not now. Someone will die if......." Henry paused and cocked his head, closing his eyes and straining to pick out the noise he felt in the pit of his stomach. Jo opened her mouth, but he held up a hand, silencing her.

Is that it?

No, that's a-

There!

Hmm, a car horn.

Is that......

Crickets chirping. But why, it's morning.

No time for science..