Forever

Father and Son

Someone shook his shoulder.

"Dude, wake up."

pot above his left eye ached, and he grimaced in shock at the sudden flood of light. There was a man dressed in a jogger's clothes crouched next to him, a poorly hidden half-smile on his face.

"Hit the town hard last night, huh?"

Henry sat up, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes. Adam gone, Jo taken, Lucas missing... ugh, and he was the only one Adam hadn't nabbed. This was beginning to get frustrating.

"Whoa, what the hell happened to your eye?" The jogger asked. Henry waved him off.

"Nothing. I guess I got robbed and the man ran off."

The man smirked and chuckled. "No offense, buddy, but you look like the kind of guy you could rob and get away with it."

Henry was irritated by the comment, but he let it slide. Now was not the time to break out into an argument about whether or not he should be robbed.

"Sir, if you'll excuse me, I have to go." He growled, getting to his feet. The jogger watched him walk stiffly away, the cold numbing his muscles, then went his own way for the day.

What a strange man, walking around New York wearing clothes fit for the 1900s, he thought to himself. And with a bruise on his face to look like he's been mugged!

---

Henry slammed the door shut with shut intensity that Abe, cooking some kind of casserole in the kitchen, jumped and dropped a glass.

"Aw, Dad, look what you made me do!" He proclaimed. Henry scolwed, wincing at the pain above his eye. Abe realized this and gaped in surprise at the bruise. "What happened....?"

"Adam! That son of gun doesn't know when to stop!" He snapped, sitting heavily in a dining room chair.

"What'd he do this time?"

"He's got Lucas, and now he's taken Jo. I was with her, I could have helped her, and she even had a gun! How does someone do that?"

"Well, when you've lived 2,000 years..." Abe trailed off as he caught his father glaring at him. "Sorry, not helping... well, why don't you... set fire to that guy's shop? That'll get him."

Henry stared. Set fire to his... where was Abe getting that idea? There was the possibility of Jo and Lucas being in there, and besides, New York was just as flammable as Chicago!

"What about filing a complaint? Or a restraining order?"

"That's smart, but Adam won't respect a restraing order. And filing a complaint won't do anything but possibly provoke him to give away my secret while simulaniousky keeping his. What's a man to do?" He ran a hand through his hair. Adam had backed him into a corner. There was no way out, nowhere to run, and the only thing left to do was tell Adam he'd won. He had taken Jo from Henry.... he hesitated to name her this, but on a subconscious level, his brain considered her family- and not a blood relationship. Lucas... was that younger brother everyone loved but thought he was strange at times. Then again, strange was an overstatement. Henry was the strange one, if everyone knew his secret.

"You could call a truce."

"And what? Sit across from the very man who holds the key to my dea-"

"Don't say it!"

"Say what?" Henry looked at his son, who had a sad ring to his tone.

"I don't ever wanna hear 'death, from your mouth again, you get it, old man?"

"Abraham, I'm-"

"And I can call you old because it's proven by your own self that just because you look young doesn't mean you are young." Abe cut in. Henry smiled.

"Very well. The very man who claims to have been around since the beginning, and 'talk'. He'll laugh in my face and spit at my shoes!"

"You think he's that low?"

"I know he is!" Henry snarled. The sharpness in his voice was so not him that Abe stepped back, momentarily stunned by what his words.

"Well.... Did he say why he took them?"

"Sure. Like he'll tell me why Lucas has been taken. He did tell me why he took the Detective... He says he's her ancestor."

"Funny how she- Ms. ICanBringHenryOutOfHisShell- came from- Mr. IHateHenryMorganTheHumbleME. Dontcha think?"

Henry gave his son his most condescending look and sighed. "I'll arrange something the next time he calls...."

Something tinged behind Abe. "Oh, good, help me get this casserole out of the oven."

Henry glanced at the clock. "It's only 9 AM."

"Exactly. That date I had last night- she wants to come back tonight!"

He helped his son pull the casserole out. "But why now? Can't you wait for a better time when it won't be stale?"

"Dad, you should the essence of getting things done early so you can enjoy the things later on. Hmm, funny, that can be a life saying." Abe grinned, and watched his father do the same. "And, uh, why don't you get some ice on that bruise?"

"It's fine the way it is, though."

His son smiled again, broader this time. "Yeah, it's unsightly, though. I've been told by Hanson that statistics say, 'In New York, people walking around with bruises on their faces tend to get mugged a lot more often because they look like they didn't get lucky the last time."

Henry smiled, the thought of getting Jo and Lucas back a tantalizing goal.