Jo saw Henry die, now she hopes she can drink it away. Future Jo Martinez/Henry Morgan Fic – set after what I think will happen in the finale. One-shot.
This might be poorly written, out of character, have bad grammar and typos, etc. … I’m sorry, I haven’t slept in 2 days, and I had to write this little fic, it’s been plaguing me for a while now. Thank you for taking your time to check it out. Please bear with me.
Chapter 5 of Melody is coming soon too. It’s longer than the rest and a bit harder to write so I’m sorry for the delay.
She was drunk, so so drunk. She tried to forget everything but the scene of Henry being shot by his shrink right in front of her played repeatedly in her head. Blood gushing out of his chest. “I’m sorry, Jo.” he whispered before fading away. Her body began to shake anew at the memory of the day time stopped. It’s been well over a month since it happened, but it still haunted her like a plague, painful and raw. Whatever happened after she didn’t want to know, she knew she was definitely going crazy and she just didn’t want to ask or clarify anything. If possible she wanted to erase it all, forget it ever happened. She drowned another glass of whisky. Blackout drunk began to sound like a very good idea now, tomorrow will be Hell, but right now it would be bliss. But her mind drifted to Henry again, and she didn’t know which shock was greater, seeing him die, or seeing him alive and well a couple of hours after. ‘How? … No no no! I don’t need to know that.’ Another glass was emptied, and she didn’t even notice where that glass came from. Apparently a guy was now sitting next to her, trying to get her attention, but she really didn’t care. If months ago this would be a perfect opportunity, today this wasn’t even an option. She used to sleep around, yes, but that was before … before Henry Morgan waltzed in her life with that infectious smile, crumbling down all her defenses. How dare he when she didn’t know anything about him? That damned man!
The other man was getting really insistent with his hands, but she had trouble focusing and could not remember where her badge was.
Henry needed a drink, preferably far away from Abe’s judging scrutiny. The past couple of weeks were hell, and it hurt him more than he’d like to admit when Jo began to avoid him. And when they did meet she never even looked at him. He was mad at himself, for not telling her earlier, for making her go through the pain of his death, but mostly he was mad at himself for not having the courage to confront her about what happened. He really needed that drink.
When he entered the bar he didn’t expect to see Jo there, and not in the company of another man. He could only stand and stare … the pain in his chest suffocating him, that man’s hand lingering a bit too much on Jo’s waist. Her lack of reaction … her lack of reaction? Wait a minute! She wasn’t really paying attention to that guy, Henry noticed. And when the man insisted Jo tried to push him away, but she failed miserably. When the man’s hands returned to Jo’s body, Henry knew he couldn’t just stand idly by. As mad at him as she was, he would take the risk, and stepped near the two, gently placing a hand on Jo’s shoulder.
“Jo …” he tried to get her attention, but before she had time to turn her head towards him, a fist smashed into the side of his face, the blow took him by surprise making him topple over a nearby table. The other man stood up and hovered over him as he tried to stand, blood filling his mouth.
“Get another one, pal. I put some money into this one.”
Henry boiled with anger at the man’s comment. He shouldn’t even dare talk like that about Jo, about HIS Jo. He raised his leg and planted a foot in the man’s stomach. Soon after he got up and tried to hit him again but the man recovered quickly and attacked Henry with a burst of punches which he was unable to block, so they all found they target. Henry has never been a good fighter, he knew from the beginning that he would end up with a few bruises and stitches, but when he fell on the ground and the other individual smashed his ribcage he could clearly hear his ribs crack, and apparently so did Jo.
“NYPD, hands where I can see them.” she spoke, gun pointed at the man bent over Henry. Alcohol was messing with her head, but at least she could focus now. ‘What have you done, you fool?’ she thought as she saw the immortal man, breathing heavily in a fetal position on the floor, blood covering his face. She handcuffed the aggressor, and to her relief someone called 911 so her colleagues rushed to the scene. Somehow Henry managed to get up, grunting and heaving. That might be a punctured lung, he thought and he needed to get out before anyone saw him die. He managed to get upright but before he could leave Jo’s hand grabbed his shoulder and he groaned with pain. She retreated her hand as fast as she could without making sudden movements that would unbalance her.
“What the Hell were you trying to do, Henry?” Jo spat, anger creeping on her face. But when he turned his face too look at her, it all went away and she gasped in shock, his face was all battered, bloody and swollen to such degree she could barely recognize him. He tried to breathe in but there wasn’t enough air and the crackling noise coming from his lungs was so loud Jo could hear it over all the music and commotion.
“You’re hurt.” she whispered and all the alcohol in the world couldn’t make her panic go away as she saw him turn blue.
“I won’t make it.” he uttered between fast and labored breaths, and Jo’s heart stopped for a moment: he was going to die again. “I have to get out of here.”
“I’ll help you.”
“No.” he stopped her. “I don’t want you to see it again. I’m sorry, Jo. For everything.” and with that he dragged himself out of the bar.
Later that night, or earlier that morning, however you want to call it, Henry Morgan found himself pacing around the house, unable to sleep. He somehow managed to get himself killed, again, in front of Jo. She didn’t see him die, but she knew he was, he could read that in her eyes when she rushed to help him. This had to stop somehow. Being around Jo had become unbearable, and today was the first time in the past few weeks when she acted like he existed. A glint of hope emerged in his heart, maybe, just maybe there was a chance to make it right. A knock on the shop’s door woke him from his reverie. Who could it be at this hour?
Henry’s face dropped when he saw Detective Martinez. He opened the door to let her in, not taking his eyes of her. What was she doing here? His heart was drumming so hard in his chest he was afraid she might hear it.
Jo wasn’t looking at him when she entered the shop, still gathering up her words. She heard the door close behind her before she turned to face Henry, her movement halted almost instantly when she noticed Henry. She had to admit she was taken aback by the sight.
“T-shirt and sweatpants? That’s something new.”
Henry smiled at the remark. “I don’t sleep in a suit, Detective.”
“I thought you said you sleep naked.”
“I don’t.” he said plainly, trying to make her understand something.
“So all the skinny dipping?” Jo’s smirk disappeared.
He stopped a while before answering the question. “That’s what happens after I …”
“Die.” she completed the phrase for him, and he pressed his lips in a fine line. “We need to talk.”, she was dead serious now, and he knew it was time.
“Somewhere where we won’t be interrupted?”
“Abe’s asleep. I’m sure …” he tried to offer, but she shook her head. “My room then.”
Jo raised her eyebrow, but followed him without making any comments.
Reaching his room, Henry locked the door behind them, gesturing Jo to sit on his bed, but she refused. It was enough that she was locked in his room. So when he faced her, it took her a minute to recover and swallow the lump in her throat, taking in his appearance. He was stiff as a board, hands interlocked in front of him, his clothes hanging loose around his body, hair ruffled, she assumed he had tried to sleep but he didn’t succeed. Jo’s heart dropped a bit, he looked so scared; maybe it wasn’t a good idea to go full berserk on him just because he lied to her.
“What’s going on, Henry? Make me understand. Who are you?”
“My name is and always has been Henry Morgan. I died for the first time in 1816, aboard The Empress of Africa. I don’t know how or why but since then every time I die I always come back. I’m 236 years old, Abraham is my son and the woman we buried 5 weeks ago was my wife, Abigail.” now he was shaking, barely holding his body upright.
“Ok.” she laid down carefully. “What about the guy that shot you?”
“Adam. He’s like me, only a lot older. He was trying to find a way out, testing a theory.”
“What are you saying?”
“That gun was the gun I was first been shot with, it was supposed to … end the curse.”
“To kill me. Forever. … it didn’t.” he replied and Jo thought she saw a hint of regret in his eyes. “Anything else you want to know?” a faint smile crept on his lips, he was exhausted and so was she, there was still alcohol in her blood, and she looked paler than he ever saw her.
“Not right now.” she answered looking in his eyes for the first time in weeks, and she could see he was looking for something in her eyes.
“Jo … I’m still me. Only with a longer and more complicated past.”
“You should’ve told me …”
“I know.” His gaze dropped.
“Now … I don’t know. The only thing I wish is that … in time you will be able to forgive me.”
“I thought I lost you.” she spoke in a low voice.
“And that is unforgivable.” he concluded.
Finally letting go, tears spilled from her reddened eyes.
“It’s painful.” Jo said plainly, still keeping her composure despite the tears washing her face. Henry’s eyes raised to look into hers, he clenched his jaw at the desolate sight in front of him, she was such a strong woman and now she was crumbling right in front of him, because of him. He hated himself for what he did. He wanted to embrace her, hold her until he would solder all those pieces she was breaking into back together. He took a step forward then stopped, searching for a reaction in her watery eyes, fretting her rejection. None came … but neither did other reaction. Silence and minutes passed while he tried to figure out what was going on through her mind. Then he decided he didn’t care anymore … consequences be damned.
Jo was lost. He had her forgiveness the moment she came to the Antiques store. She wasn’t mad at him … not really, she was more upset about how much it hurt her to lose him. She was upset it felt worse than losing Sean. She loved Sean, she didn’t know what she felt for Henry … or she was afraid to know. But when strong arms came around her she could feel all her defenses falter.
“I know it will take time, but I will wait, an eternity if necessary.” Jo let out a little laugh muffled in his shirt at his words and he smiled “I … I love you, Jo.”
She raised her head to look in his eyes, she was confused; did he just say what she thought he said? But then she felt his body shake lightly under her arms, and she knew he did.
“I don’t know how to proceed.” his voice trembled as he spoke.
“How about one step at a time. But don’t take too long. For what I know, given my profession, I could be dead tomorrow.”
“I would never let that happen.” He said in a serious deep voice that made her heart menace to break out of her chest. She knew it was true, he did it even before she knew he was immortal.
She swallowed hard. “I know.” and she let her arms wrap around him, pulling him in a tight embrace. It was comfortable and unusually pleasant, he smelled of fresh soap and something that was him. And all this with any other man would have gone unnoticed, but this was Henry and her heart swelled in her chest, and the small puffs of air caressing her neck made him so real. He was alive and he told her he loved her. His arms at first gentlemanly placed on the sides of her body now snaked around to hold her tighter, one stopping on the small of her back the other on her neck. Lost in the intensity of his embrace and without giving it too much thought she planted a small kiss on his neck, the skin under her lips turned to goosebumps and he took a sharp intake of breath. He broke the embrace making Jo feel a bit disappointed, but it all went away when she saw his face, all red and flustered, she almost burst in laughter. Who knew all it took was a kiss on his neck to turn the all-knowing Henry Morgan into a big heap of … lust? Oh God, now she was turning red. They kept staring at each other, not saying a word, it should’ve felt uncomfortable, for both of them…but it didn’t, Jo’s eyes slowly drifted on Henry’s lips, her breathing erratic as was his.
“If you continue to look at my lips, Detective, I will have to do it.” Henry menaced with a grin on his face, but she continued to do so and her grin matched his. He took the hint and he slowly leaned down until his face was so close he could feel the heat of her breath on his lips. “I love you.” he whispered again before their mouths joined. The kiss was soft and chaste, and they soon found themselves wanting more. Henry parted her lips with his tongue, sending shivers up her spine. His right hand tangled in her hair, the other around the small of her back, while hers have somehow slipped under his shirt, touching and exploring. He pushed Jo backwards until her back landed with a thud against the wooden door and she was caught between it and Henry’s firm body. She smiled against his lips, Henry Morgan was a wonder and a highly skilled kisser. She began to remove his shirt when a knock on the door made both of them freeze.
“Pops! Are you alright?” Abe’s muffled voice came from behind the door.
“I’m fine.” Henry managed to choke out, but it sounded a bit off to Abe so he pressed on. His father hadn’t felt well since they buried Abigail, and he was pretty sure he was on the verge of a breakdown.
“Did you hit something, it sounded like you hit something?”
Jo rolled her eyes and let out a frustrated giggle.
“I adore Abe, I truly do. But this is the second time I want to punch him.” she whispered into his ear.
“Abraham! A little privacy please.”
“Not if you’re not telling me what’s going on.”
Jo just couldn’t contain herself, how has she not seen this before? The interaction between the two was obvious. And now Henry trying to hide from his son, she just burst into laughter.
“Oh God, Henry, just tell him already.”
Abraham’s voice suddenly changed. “Is that a woman?”
“Umm…” the immortal man tried to explain himself but failed.
“If that’s not Jo, I’m going to kill you tomorrow.” he said in a serious voice, only to smile silently. He knew it was Jo, of course he did. But he was so going to tease his dad with this for as long as he could.
Behind the door an “I love you too.” was whispered, a kiss resumed, and they all knew tomorrow was going to be a better day.
A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Feedback is appreciated, even though I know I didn’t do a stellar job with this one ….