Wow. Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews! I promise, I am trying to work my way through them so if you haven't heard from me yet, do not despair. You will soon.

Here is the latest chapter and I hope you enjoy it. Again, any and all mistakes are my own.

M

When Henry next awoke, the sun was shining quite brightly through the shaded windows. The blinds did little to hide its rays but he appreciated the attempt all the same. The room was quiet. Well, as quiet as a hospital can get with the ever-present beeping of the heart monitor and the bustle of the staff outside the doors. For a moment Henry simply lay there, listening to the sounds of Abe breathing in and out. It sounded as though the wheezing had lessened a little bit but it was still quite noticeable. Still, judging from the pattern of his son's breathing, Henry would surmise that he was asleep which meant that he was comfortable and not in pain.

The minutes ticked by for Henry didn't know how long. He laid there, listening to the sounds of time passing from his pocket watch which miraculously lay on a table near the bed. Evidently someone had removed it and had placed it there. Just as well, he didn't want to break it by having it fall while he had slept.

After taking time to let his eyes adjust to the bright day Henry began to stir, fully waking up. He was careful when stretching, taking care to be mindful of his sore body as he did so. He lowered his legs over the side of the bed as he slowly sat up. Save for himself and Abe, there was no one else inside the room. Evidently Sarah had finally left - although whether it was to go home or go back to work, he didn't know. He hoped that she'd gone home but he was also more than aware of how hectic and sporadic working at a hospital could be.

Henry reapplied the brace and slipped his shoes back on while silently wondering when they had come off in the first place. He made sure to breathe steadily and move slowly as he did so since bending over still wasn't pleasant. He did notice that it was a slightly easier to do it now compared to yesterday, however, and he was grateful for the change and hopeful that he could look forward to being mostly okay by the time Abe was released.

The heart monitor beeped, alerting Henry to the fact that Abe was waking up. He slowly made his way over to the bed and then sat down on the edge of it by Abe's hip so that he could see his son better. Although the chair was appreciated and helpful when Abe was sleeping, when he was awake it made things rather difficult. As Henry didn't want to overtire Abe in any way, making him strain to see Henry was out of the question.

"So you're awake," his son said by way of greeting. Tired, blue eyes opened and struggled for a moment to stay that way. They blinked a couple of times before Abe was finally able to keep them open, even managing to look alert to a point. He smiled up at Henry. Why he did so, Henry didn't know. All that he knew was that he was happy to see it. "Did you get some rest?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I did," Henry answered, still surprised that he had slept as much as he had. Clearly his body had needed it. "How about you?"

In the bed, Abe shrugged. For a moment Henry thought he was about to say something but then his breath caught in his chest and he began coughing instead.

Hearing the rattle in his son's lungs made Henry's burn in sympathy. He'd had pneumonia a long time ago. Back when it wasn't as easy to cure. And he remembered every bit of it. The inability to catch one's breath. The constant fatigue and overall exhaustion. Not to mention the painful coughs which tore at your throat and only made the pain in your chest worse. Overall it was a rather unpleasant illness and he had been rather thankful when his body had finally given in and he'd died from it.

Sadly and thankfully, no relief was going to be felt for Abe. On the one hand, Henry was grateful for this. He wasn't ready to try and live without his son just yet. But on the other, he felt selfish, knowing the peace it could potentially bring a person.

"Hey," Abe's voice broke through, bringing Henry back to the present. "You okay?"

Henry smiled. As always he appreciated Abe's ability to express concern for someone else when he, himself was suffering. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Henry answered, his smile conveying what he had just been thinking.

Abe shrugged. "I'm sure you can tell how I'm feeling just from looking at the monitors or taking my vitals."

"That doesn't mean that I don't want to hear it coming from you," Henry said while making sure to keep his tone soft and earnest.

It was true that he could essentially read all the signs and know how Abe was feeling. But there was something in having someone tell you that always seemed more personable. It allowed the patient to express their pain and their feelings without thinking themselves a burden, while also letting them think that you, their doctor, cared about them enough to listen.

Many people believed that society's inability to listen to another's suffering or care about it was a recent development. Henry wasn't one of them. In his 200 or so years of life he had found that it was actually most common for humans to care about themselves more so than someone else. Sure, they had gotten better at expressing their concerns as time moved on and customs relaxed but the simple truth of the matter was that humanity in and of itself was selfish and Henry had no hope of seeing that change no matter how long he lived.

So, he did his best to be the exception. Granted it hadn't gotten him very far at times but that was one instance where being immortal was a gift rather than a curse. It gave him ample time to show others how they could and should behave. Whether any of them followed his example or, indeed, if they even got the point was another matter entirely.

"I feel better," Abe answered on a sigh. His eyes briefly closed and then they opened again, almost as though he were once again fighting sleep. "Now if I could stay awake longer than two minutes at a time, I'd be fantastic."

Henry chuckled a little, appreciating his son's quandary. "Yes, well, since I'm sure Sarah has already lectured you on your need for sleep, I won't say it again," he said, wanting nothing more than to repeat the doctor's words.

His corresponding glare must have been lecture enough because not more than thirty seconds later, Abe was rolling his eyes.

"You doctors, you're all the same," he groused, albeit halfheartedly.

Henry chuckled in response but said nothing in favor of letting Abe fall back asleep if he wanted to. He gave an expressive eyebrow raise when his son continued to fight his exhaustion and stayed awake.

"What?" Abe innocently asked. "I thought you weren't going to say anything."

"I haven't," Henry answered, figuring two could play the innocent game.

"Not in so many words, no," Abe argued back, eyeing his father skeptically. He weakly raised his arm as high as he could so that he was able to point a slightly shaking finger at Henry's face. "But it was all right there."

"I can't help what my face tells you, Abe," Henry said with another, small, chuckle. "And besides, we both know that you need the rest."

"And there it is. I knew you couldn't hold out for too long." The words were spoken with as much fervor as a child sleepily arguing against having to take a nap but Henry knew that was in all probability due to Abe's lack of strength and not lack of meaning. "As I said, you doctors are all the same. Can't resist your lecturing."

"Well, if you would simply do as you're told, we wouldn't have to resort to such standard tactics," Sarah's voice said just as Henry was about to.

Henry jumped a little, surprised to find her in the room. He hadn't heard her come in at all. He hadn't even expected her to be on hospital grounds, come to think of it. She smiled at him when she noticed his reaction and then stepped up to the vacant side of the bed so that she could see the monitors better. She then went on to take Abe's vitals herself, no doubt double checking her findings with what the machine was telling her, before stepping back as though to give them both some space.

"Well," she said with a sigh. She pulled out a notebook that Henry had never seen her use and made little notes in it. "Everything is looking as well as can be expected," she pronounced as she finished writing. She tucked the notebook back into her coat pocket and then slid both hands in as well, looking relaxed and not at all as though she'd been up all night watching over the both of them. "Think you can try eating some broth for lunch?"

"Lunch - what time is it?" Henry asked, somewhat alarmed by the apparent lateness of the hour. He fidgeted to pull his watch out of his pocket to check the time.

"It's almost eleven am," Sarah answered with a smile in her voice. After confirming what she said to be true, Henry looked over to see her smiling so warmly at him that her eyes seemed to be full of smooth honey rather than the cold amber he usually saw. "I skipped out of here shortly before 9 to go home and take a shower before my shift. I left word with Laura that if there was any change in Abe's status to wake you immediately." She eyed his disheveled expression with a raised eyebrow, her expression bordering on humorous. "Apparently all has been well otherwise you would have been up long ago."

"Yes, well, thank you for letting me sleep," Henry mumbled, embarrassed to find that he had slept for so long. When he'd woken, Henry had had the notion that it was late in the day, but he'd thought that it was more like eight o'clock; possibly nine. Not nearer noon.

"My pleasure," she said, still smiling. She returned her attention to Abe, who seemed to be enjoying the conversation from a hazy standpoint. His eyes kept fluttering closed, only to open again after a minute or two and though he tried to look alert, it was obvious to both doctors in the room that he was fading fast. "So what do you say, Abe?" His eyes snapped open and Sarah repeated her question. "Think you can handle a bit of broth for lunch?"

"Hm? Yeah," he answered almost absently, as though he were agreeing without really listening to the conversation. "Yeah, I'm good."

Henry and Sarah shared a knowing look, complete with matching smiles.

"I'll have them bring him some for dinner. Until then, we'll let him sleep," she said, addressing only Henry this time as it seemed that Abe had finally conceded the fight and had fallen asleep. "Do you need anything before I go?" she offered, re-fixing her hair into a tight, but not neat, bun. With her hair that way, it struck Henry how alike she was to Abigail. And yet so different as well. "I could have them bring you something for lunch, if you want. I'm sure you're hungry."

"No, thank you," Henry declined with a vacant smile. He slightly shook his head to clear the memories which threatened to invade and did his best to focus on the here and now. Abigail was gone. And though he still loved her and still mourned for her, it wouldn't do him any good to continue living in the past. He'd done too much of that lately and look where it had gotten him. No where sans the safety in knowing that he wouldn't be hurt by another death until Abraham and then never again after. "Hospital food has never been that appetizing to me."

Sarah made a face of agreement. "I hear ya there," she said. "But sometimes, it's better than nothing."

Henry wasn't necessarily one to agree with that and so he said nothing. And besides, there was something in the way she had said it that made him think there was more behind the statement than a simple observation and he didn't wish to offend her in case he was right.

"Well," she said, looking as though she had just decided something she wasn't very happy about. "Call me or have one of the nurses call me if you need anything or if something changes."

"I will," Henry assured. "Thank you."

She smiled and nodded her assent and then left.

Henry shifted from the bed, down to the chair and got comfortable. Images of the past still swirled in his memory like a painting that had gotten wet. They blurred together until he could no longer differentiate one from the other. It seemed as though his mind was content to mix his picture of Abigail with his picture of Sarah. The notion was ridiculous, of course, since he didn't feel any of the romantic attraction he had felt for Abigail towards Sarah. But, he allowed, he did feel something for her.

The only question that remained - was what?

oOo

When Abe next resurfaced, he noticed that he felt marginally better. He no longer felt like he was freezing and heating a third world country all at once and although he ached, it had lessened as well. The only thing that really bothered him now was his chest and he since he didn't know if that was likely to stop soon, he didn't let it bother him. He shifted in the bed, thoroughly uncomfortable in it, and slowly opened his eyes.

The room was dark. It was lit with artificial lighting, of course, but otherwise shadows encased the corners, slowly spreading their tendrils the more one stared at them. At first glance, the room appeared to be empty and Abe released a small sigh of relief at the thought, knowing Henry needed to go home and get some proper rest. But then he looked over to his left and saw his father dozing lightly in the chair beside his bed. He looked awkward, to say the least, with his back fully against the back of the chair and his neck bent, his head resting to the side. One leg was bent, tucked under the chair almost, while the other was stretched out.

Abe smiled lovingly at the man who had raised him and loved him. Although he'd never admit it, he was glad that Henry was here. There were certain times when a person just needed their dad and this had been one of them. The first thought that had come to him when he'd felt the pain in his chest and known that it wasn't something normal was about Henry. Abe had wished that his father had been there with him, if for no other reason than to calm him down and tell him that everything would be alright.

But Henry hadn't been there and Abe had felt alone for the first time in a long time. It hadn't been Henry's fault, of course. Abe knew that. It hadn't been as though Henry had purposely been gone; he'd simply just been at work. Even so, it hadn't stopped Abe from feeling a bit of disappointment.

Then the fever had hit and everything had seemed to become a blur of one face or another. Abe still wasn't sure what it was that he had had but it had left him feeling like a six year old rather than a mid-sixty year old. The only thing he could really remember was his father's voice comforting him. How long Abe had been in the hospital, he didn't know as he'd officially lost all track of time during his illness. But the one thing he did know was that Henry had been here all the while.

A sudden need to cough gripped his lungs and Abe did his best to stifle it, knowing that it would wake Henry. Unfortunately that only made the need that much stronger and before long Abe was engulfed in a coughing fit which left him wheezing harder than when he'd begun.

"Abe?" Henry's voice murmured as the man himself slowly attempted to wake up. He stirred and shifted with a wince, no doubt feeling the crick in his neck from his sleeping position, and then scooted forward as though to get out of the chair.

Even though Abe remembered something about Henry getting some good sleep, he still looked exhausted. His eyes were red, a little puffy, and even in the dark of the room, Abe could tell that Henry had circles under them. It was obvious that he needed more and Abe suddenly felt guilty for disturbing him.

He held out a hand, stilling his father's movements and assuring him that he was fine. He wasn't but Henry didn't need to know that.

"Just go back to sleep," he wheezed while doing his best to get his breathing back under control. "I'm fine."

"No you're not," Henry argued with a frown. Before long he was sitting on the bed, facing Abe, and was beginning to examine him. He was gentle with his touch, no doubt checking for fever. Once he was, evidently, satisfied on that front, he leaned down, using his arms to support him, and listened to Abe's chest. He sat back up quickly with the frown still on his face. "You need another treatment," he announced as he got up to press the call button for the nurse.

"What, you aren't going to give it to me yourself?" Abe joked, coughing again.

Henry leveled a look at him which Abe had always construed as his father trying to appear angry but failing miserably. "Normally I would but since they only left the machine and not the medicine, I need to ask for assistance," he said, sounding a bit annoyed.

Abe chuckled breathlessly. He had no trouble believing that Henry was annoyed but it wasn't at him. Henry Morgan wasn't the type to ask for help. He preferred to do things on his own and generally by himself. He usually got a bit grumpy when he did have to depend on someone else; even more so if he had to ask for that support.

"Yes?" the on-call nurse asked without the barest hint of a smile. To Abe, she seemed stern and possibly unhappy that she was being forced to work.

"We need a dose of Albuterol, please," Henry said kindly and professionally, not seeming to be bothered by her apparent coldness.

"I'll contact the doctor," she said blandly, leaving before Henry had a chance to say anything else.

Henry stared at the doorway, looking as though he couldn't believe she had just done that. "Well that was a little rude," he complained, looking as though he was pouting a little.

"She was probably a little miffed that she was being kept awake," Abe dismissed, trying to soothe his father's rumpled feathers.

"Actually, she's just generally like that," a new voice said.

Abe looked over at the door and smiled when he saw Sarah. She was dressed in street clothes, her hair down and falling about her shoulders. She, too, looked tired but she wore a smile for the both of them.

"Shouldn't you be at home?" Henry asked, sounding marginally concerned. How long had she been here?

Sarah shrugged as she came in. "Who wants to be at home when I could be here, hanging out with two handsome men?" She looked down at Abe, her smile never fading, and asked, "I see you're feeling better."

"How can you tell?" he joked, knowing full well how she knew.

"Because you're actually awake," she replied, giving him the answer he knew she would. She proceeded to do the same exam that Henry had just performed not long ago, although she forwent using her ear in favor of her stethoscope, and then straightened back up. "Sadly, I am on my way out of here," she said with a sigh. "But I thought I'd drop this by on my way out." She pulled out a bottle of what Abe assumed was the Albuterol and handed it to Henry.

It never ceased to amaze Abe how much Sarah could trust in someone. Or perhaps it was just that she had so much of it for himself and Henry that it appeared she held everyone else in the same regard? No matter which way it was, it was a rare thing to find in today's society.

"Thank you," Henry said, walking around the bed to set up the nebulizer. Abe frowned when he noticed his father's limp but he said nothing. Yet.

Henry's hands were swift, his movements self-assured out of decades of practice, as he prepared the breathing treatment, handed the tube to Abe, and then flipped the switch. He stayed standing long enough to make sure that Abe could hold the mouthpiece and then he sat down.

"No problem," Sarah said, waving off Henry's gratitude. "Gave me a chance to check on my favorite patient before I went home." She placed a hand on Abe's leg. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better," she said with enough sincerity to make Abe believe that she meant it.

She turned around and leaned down to give a surprised-looking Henry a kiss on the cheek. "Try not to stay up all night looking out for him," Abe heard her whisper before she straightened back up. "Goodnight gentlemen," she bid. "Try to get some rest." She paused and then added, "The both of you."

Since Abe was busy with the nebulizer, he settled for waving goodbye to her. Henry did the same, albeit awkwardly, and then it was just them again.

"Is somethin' going on between you two?" Abe asked in between puffs of the medicine.

"No, why?" Henry answered with furrowed brows.

"No reason," Abe replied with a virtual shrug. He took another long inhale of the medication, relaxing a little when he felt his chest loosen. "You just seem closer than usual."

A contemplative look came over his father's face and Abe knew he was trying to decide how to take that. If it was a good or bad thing. And how he felt about it either way.

Abe left him alone and finished off the rest of his treatment. He knew from past experience that it was best to let Henry work through things like this on his own. He'd come to whatever conclusion he wanted and, to him, it would be the right one.

It took awhile but eventually Henry noticed that he was finished and turned the nebulizer off, taking the tube away and laying it gently on top. It was during this process that Abe noticed his father wince again. And this time he knew it wasn't from sleeping in an odd position. His brows furrowed as he asked, "You okay?"

At this, Henry looked a little concerned. He seemed to freeze, his expression one of someone who was debating how much he should or shouldn't say. He carefully sat forward, placing his one elbow on his left knee and the other on the arm of the chair, and asked, "How much do you remember of the past five days?"

That took Abe by surprise.

"I've been here five days?" he asked, not fully able to grasp that concept. It hadn't felt like that long. Then again, at times it had felt like much longer.

"It doesn't surprise me that you don't know that," his father stated comfortingly. "You have been pretty unaware for quite a while."

Abe saw the concern in Henry's eyes and he wanted nothing more than to wipe it away. But he didn't know how. What had felt like a raging fever had apparently been something far more serious. And he hadn't even known it.

"Well, let's see," he said as he got around to answering Henry's question. "I remember the heart attack at the shop. Oh, how is the customer, by the way? I think I might have scared him."

Henry looked at Abe with slightly widened eyes. "We haven't been able to locate any customer," he answered slowly, deliberately. "Jo said that by the time she had arrived, there was no one save you and the EMT's."

"Oh," Abe said, a little confused but easily dismissing it. "He must have left when the EMT's got there."

"Perhaps," Henry soothed, though he looked doubtful. "What else do you remember?"

"I remember being scared; I remember being scared and wishing you were there," Abe answered without thinking. He inwardly winced at just how that might sound to Henry as well as make him feel. He didn't know why he'd said it either, since it wasn't really relevant to anyone but himself. But he had and the corresponding look of sadness that crept onto Henry's face made him feel guilty. So he moved on. "I remember Jo," he confirmed, hoping he sounded a little brighter. He furrowed his brows when his memory failed him from there. "Then nothing," he said.

"Do you remember waking up shortly afterwards?" Henry asked, barely masking his own feelings on the subject of the whole ordeal. His eyes looked a little watery and his voice sounded a bit choked and Abe wondered how he was handling all of this; whether he had taken time to process it or not. Henry cleared his throat and seemed blink back the tears which wanted to fall. "Do you remember having a conversation with me?"

Abe searched his mind. Doing his best to remember. Bits and pieces seemed to come to him but nothing complete. It was as though a fine mist had settled over his brain and made everything seem hazy, almost like it had all been a dream rather than reality.

Suddenly, Abe felt very tired. He was damned if he was going to give in, though, as this was the first real conversation he'd had with his father in six days. Apparently. He wasn't about to stop. Abe delved deeper into his memories, looking desperately for the time that Henry had mentioned. He remembered being upset about something and he clung to that as hard as he could, willing the rest to come to him.

"You said that you'd been hit by a car," Abe slowly stated as he began to recall it. He watched in his mind's eye as the scene seemed to play out before him.

Relief seemed to wash over Henry's face but he said nothing as he waited to see how much more Abe could think of. He did, however, offer a small smile of encouragement which Abe did his best to earn.

"I still say you're an idiot for waiting so long to get yourself looked after," Abe retorted, now recalling precisely why he'd been so upset with his father. The shnook had spent hours in pain simply so he could stay by Abe's side when Abe wasn't going to go anywhere.

Henry smiled, lowering his head in an expression of embarrassment. "Yes, well," he defended, licking his lips in the way he was known to do. "After learning that my son had a heart attack, I think I had a right to be a little worried."

Knowing that he had a fair point, Abe chuckled. "Fair enough," he admitted, saying nothing of the fact that he knew it had been more than a little. He paused for a moment and then asked, "But you're okay now, right?" Henry opened his mouth to answer but Abe pointed a meaningful finger at him and quickly added, "And none of that 'I'm fine' crap. I know you too well for that."

"Yes, I suppose you do," his father said, still wearing the smile. "I'm alright," he said, going for a variation of what he was told not to say. "I'm healing slowly but I am healing."

"And the leg?" Abe asked after noticing earlier the way Henry favored it. Since he couldn't quite recall the extent of his father's injuries, he also couldn't remember how badly he'd been hurt and he wanted to know now.

"That will take a bit longer to get better, I'm afraid," Henry answered, his tone aiming for light but coming out dejected nonetheless. "Still, I should be well enough to take care of you once you're released."

"I wasn't worried about that," Abe defended with a small roll of his eyes.

"I know," Henry assured. "But nevertheless, it's true."

There was a pause in which Abe finally realized that his father wasn't simply telling him that he would be around after Abe was released. That he was actually making it a point to reassure Abe that he would be there for him afterwards, and would be there to take care of him during his time of need. Henry's guilt about not having been there before was resurfacing. But rather than dwell on it - outwardly at least, for Abe had no doubt that he was doing so internally - Henry preferred to simply show that he understood and would try not to let that happen again.

Then Henry inhaled and leaned back into the chair again. "Now, get some rest," he said, looking a bit stern. "I know you've been fighting it."

Abe wanted to ask how Henry had been able to tell that but he soon decided there was no need. Just as he knew Henry, Henry knew him. He would have been able to read the signs as easily as Abe could read an antique.

"Fine," Abe grumbled, squirming a little to get more comfortable.

Henry stood and helped him get better situated, rearranging the pillows afterwards so that they were more fluffed and less lumpy. As though he were merely tucking Abe in for the night,Henry pulled the blanket up to Abe's chin and semi-tucked it in around him so that the heat would stay inside the blanket and not escape through a hole.

"Just don't stay up brooding most of the night," Abe added when it occurred to him that that was exactly what Henry would most likely do.

"Brooding about what?" Henry said, feigning ignorance.

Since there was so many answers Abe could give to that and he knew he didn't have the energy, he simply said, "The past," and left it at that.

Beside him, his father chuckled. "Good night, Abe," he said, falling quiet immediately after.

Later Abe would swear that he had answered but he would be wrong. He'd fallen asleep before Henry had even finished speaking.

TBC