embarkation | i feel my soul waist deep and sinking

Who: Jo Martinez and Henry Morgan
Where: The Residences
When: TBD
Rating: PG
Summary: Jo washes up in the Hudson in an alternate New York City, and finds out Henry is there.

Henry was usually the type to wake up in the Hudson, and once the shock of nearly drowning in the disgusting water had worn off, she was relieved about two things - that she wasn't naked, and she wasn't dead.

On the other hand, her phone was wasted, her gun was flooded, and someone had slipped a strange smart phone in her pocket. Jo quickly found her relief turning into confusion, anger and a little bit of fear.

It didn't take long to find herself at the Residences, staring down at the instructions on her phone and back up at the building for a few moments. Her wet, filthy clothes clung to her body and the cold rush of the New York winter air was starting to get the best of her, so she finally pulled in a shuttering breath before pulling open the door and stepping into the lobby. The blast of warm air from the heater was a relief, but it didn't do much to stave off the chill that had seemed to seep clear down into her very bones.

"What the hell is going on here," she murmured to herself, clutching the smart phone in her hand and glancing around the lobby again. Jo could feel her heart thundering in her chest. There was something not right about any of this.

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Jo was holding onto him, and she had no intent of letting go. Her affection for him as a partner and a friend had never been something she had taken the time to hide from him; if anything, she felt he was the one that pushed her away. But the distance between them seemed to be vanishing moment by moment as they worked together more and more. Jo hoped eventually he would trust her enough to stop holding back.

"You never really struck me as the shopping type, Henry," she teased. "You really sure you want to spend the afternoon with me picking out jeans and shoes?" Even Sean had usually ran for the hills when he was given that option.

There was so much to hide. So much he couldn't tell her. He'd grown used to having that ability. He'd had Abigail and Abe to help carry the burden of his secret. He was alone again, as he hadn't been in over seventy years. Jo, for all their closeness, wasn't the same as that comfort.

"Have you not seen my scarfs? My shoes? My overcoats?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, "Clothing make the man, don't they? I am sure I am more than qualified to pick out a few jeans and tennis shoes."

"Scarves are a slightly different animal than heels," Jo noted, her mouth curving into a smile as she spoke. She didn't exactly feel relaxed, but she felt safer having Henry so close to her. It wasn't something she would readily admit, but it gave her the ability to let her guard down just a little bit.

"And who said I was going to let you pick anything out?"

A bit of banter and it felt almost like home again. He needed to be careful with that so he wouldn't remember and feel the same ache of realizing how alone they were.

"You'd be surprised. My wife never once complained upon my tastes," he argued.

"I doubt she did. But from what you've said about Abigail, I get the impression she had pretty good taste of her own."

Jo gave him a knowing smile, letting him know that had been as much of a compliment towards him as it had been towards his long lost wife. She took his arm, giving it a comforting squeeze. Although he hadn't really ever given her details, she always assumed his wife had died, and they shared the grief that came with being widowed.

"Well, of course. She agreed to marry me didn't she?" he asked with an impish smile. It was the first real smile he'd put on in days. He hadn't felt the urge or the inclination.

He put his hand on her arm and patted it softly. They had good memories at least. Some people didn't have that. Didn't have so much as-

"Pictures," he said aloud, "Your phone? Do you have it? Does it still work?"

Sometimes, Jo felt like she and Henry were having a moment. She wasn't always sure what kind of moment; she didn't feel like it had to be particularly romantic in any way. Intimate, though. As if they were sharing something quiet and genuine between them.

It never failed, however, to be inturrupted by something. A ringing phone, Hanson, Lucas, or Henry himself derailing it with some stroke of... Whatever his strokes were. Jo raised her eyebrows and slipped her hand into the slightly tight jeans she had been loaned, fishing her phone out.

"It's still on, but it's not connected to any network," she warned, offering him the phone once it was freed from her pocket.

His heart stopped when her phone turned one. He would have taken it from her, but he knew she was more talented with the gadget.

"Do you have those pictures from our last dinner together?" he ask referring to the ones they'd taken together. The ones that Abe were in. He had washed ashore without his wallet, without pictures of his son or his wayward wife. He hadn't seen his boys face in over a week and his heart filled with hope of her having just a simple snap shot. So little much so much right now.

"Yeah, I do."

Jo's tone changed immediately. She wasn't sure what Henry was getting at quite yet, but she had a feeling it didn't have anything to do with what they were doing here.

But she had the pictures. She had all of her pictures. Jo didn't delete photographs; at least, not since Sean had died. Jo opened the gallery on her phone and thumbed through the photos until she found the one of the three of them together. Jo had been sat between them, Abe leaning into her affectionately and Henry on the other side, a knowing, half smile on his handsome face. Jo's mouth was open in a half-laugh, but she couldn't recall what had been so funny. Jo stared at it for a second; even though that photo had only been taken a couple days prior, it felt like a life time.

"My God," he said gingerly taking her phone. He took a step away, his eyes unfocused and his mouth hanging open.

It hit him like a truck. Everything that had happened. He'd left the world he'd known and was in a completely different one. If time was still moving in their world, which it may very well be, then Abe woke up seven days ago without him there. A week which had slide by slower than any other that Henry has known. He felt tears at the corners of his eyes, but they didn't fall.

He could almost smell the lasagna they had that for dinner that night. He had a knack for remembering details like that, always had. Details suck and he was glad, they had too since it was all he had to remember them by after time. Sure picture, momentos helped, but nothing replaced human memory. Memories like promising to always be there for someone.

He looked up at Jo, something lost and wounded in his eyes. He didn't know what to say and he was too horrified and shock to remember to hide what he was really feeling.

The look on his face stilled Jo completely, because it was one she recognized. She knew that gaze of shock, tinted with a haunting emptiness that couldn't be filled. She had faced that very gaze in the morning for months after her husband died; although her own eyes had been ringed with the tinge of too many hangovers.

"Henry..." She moved towards him, her hand raising up before she hesitated for a moment, finally resting her palm on his forearm. "I know you miss him. It must be hard being away from..." Jo hesitated again, rolling the words around in her mind as she tried to figure out how to phrase it. Henry had never exactly been open about his life or relationships, but that didn't mean she hadn't made her own assumptions. "... someone you love." It was phrased almost defensively, but with a promise that she wasn't going to judge him but he hadn't exactly been forthcoming, either. "We'll get back."

He accepted the comfort, appreciated it, even if her words were edged with something uncomfortable. It had been so much easier when Henry was boy. There had been no questions or concerns. The temptation to tell her, to put her worries at ease was strong. He held his tongue and took what was offered.

"What do you think that world will do without us? You didn't show at work this morning. I haven't been in for a week. Do you think they worry?" he asked trying to change the subject, but not too drastically.

i feel my soul waist deep and sinking

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