Forever

My name is Henry Morgan.

My story is a long one.

It might sound a bit implausible.

In fact, you probably won't believe me.

But I'll tell you anyway, because, beyond all else,

I have lots and lots of time.

Doors are closing.

How did you know I was Russian?

Korovka. Russian chocolate.

You have a smudge.

Good luck at the performance tonight.

Sorry.

I noticed the indentations on your fingers.

At first I thought the violin,

but the spacing's a bit too wide

and there's no markings under your chin, so cello.

Ah.

Hmm.

How did you know I have a performance?

Your collar has a bit of moisture.

Freshly showered.

So I assumed you're either headed to work

or going out on a date, and, with all due respect,

it would be unusual for a woman as beautiful as you

to be taking the subway to a date.

You see a lot.

Well, I've seen a lot.

Next stop... 66th Street, Lincoln Center.

Perhaps you would like to come to the performance?

Maybe afterwards, you could grab a drink?

I would love to.

I've lived a full life, been madly in love.

I've had my heart broken.

I've fought in wars

and seen more than my fair share of death.

In my long life, I've experienced many ends,

but only one beginning.

It all started 200 years ago.

It's just a fever. This man will be fine.

He's not a man. He's property.

He has cholera. Throw him overboard.

I can assure you he is not infected!

You allow my men to remove him...

Or I shall.

Step aside, Dr. Morgan, or I will shoot you.

I cannot let you do this.

So be it.

You see, something happened that night.

I was transformed.

I still feel love, pleasure, pain.

My life is just like yours...

Except for one small difference.

It never ends.

Since that night nearly two centuries ago,

every time I die, I always return in water,

and I'm always naked.

Lends itself to some slightly awkward situations.

Now you know about as much about my condition as I do.

All I know for certain is that the pain is real.

It's just the dying part that's not.

It's a long story.

Just imagine all the things you could do with eternity.

See the world, speak countless languages.

In fact, there's almost nothing in this life I haven't done,

except leave it.

Unfortunately, that's not the case for those around me.

Try watching as the people you love most in the world

go off to another.

Only then would you know what I do.

That eternity is not really a blessing, but a curse.

Abe is the only one who knows my secret.

Fate brought us together years ago.

And if I've learned nothing else from my time here,

it's don't mess with fate.

Forgive me. But even for a man who died

and then spent the night in jail, you look like crap.

Thank you, Abe, but I assure you,

I look exactly the same every day.

Although, that still may be like crap.

But hey, here's the beautiful part.

Nowhere to go but up.

Ooh. Not your finest hour.

Hey! You just snuck off.

I, uh... I would call it a clean exit.

Shame free. That is, until now.

Just one tiny mistake. You took the wrong phone.

Ah. Okay, great.

I see what's going on here.

What's that? I saw that dude's picture on your phone,

bunch of saved voicemails.

You stepping out on your old man?

Look, this doesn't have to be a one-nighter.

There's no reason you and I couldn't be something real.

That's very sweet, Andre.

But if I want to find you I will.

Detective Martinez.

I've been calling you all morning.

Late night?

Early. Took a yoga class and hit the sack.

- What do they think happened? - No idea.

Apparently not an act of terror,

or feds and Homeland Security

would have this whole city on lock-down.

That thing looks pretty old.

Yeah, it's still ticking, too.

Can't say the same for whoever owned it.

Yeah, no survivors in this car.

Detective Martinez.

Lieutenant. What do you know?

M.E. on the scene thinks the condutor died of a heart attack.

Traces of vomit, no hemorrhaging or bruising.

They think he died before impact.

What do you need from me?

Head over to the M.E.'s office,

get someone signed off on the cause of death

of the conductor ASAP, and pray there's no alcohol found in him.

'Cause if there is, it becomes manslaughter

and we're looking at 14 homicides.

Got it.

Correct me if I'm wrong.

You never died in a train crash before, have you?

No, I've not.

I'd say this is cause for celebration.

You experienced something new today.

Isn't that the whole point of life?

Abe, I think it's safe to say

that I've yet to figure out what the point of life is.

Mine anyway.

Well, that's why we keep looking.

How about I get us tickets to "La Traviata" tonight?

I hear the soprano has a great set of pipes on her.

Look, I appreciate the effort.

But occasionally after a violent death,

a man needs a period of time to wallow.

Understood.

Abe.

Uh, don't say anything too emotional.

It'll be uncomfortable.

My thoughts exactly.

"Cause of death... Impaled by subway railing.

Pain level... 6."

Mm, call it a 7.

Over the years, you could say I've become a student of death.

Not out of some macabre obsession,

but purely for research.

You see, I need to find a way out of this...

A key to unlock my curse.

I work for the New York City medical examiner's office.

It holds the largest collection

of slightly-chilled corpses in the world.

If your game is death, go where the action is.

All right, Lucas, who's first?

Uh, subway conductor.

NYPD called twice asking for cause of death.

I told them there was about 20.

Spinal fracture, blunt-force trauma to the head,

exsanguination, all probably post-mortem.

Early diagnosis says a heart attack got him first.

Lucky bastard.

How so?

Uh, detective Jo Martinez.

You have a cause of death yet on the conductor?

Just about to begin. Very welcome to join us.

Lucas here could get you a coffee.

Yes. Why don't I... Do you, uh... latte or an...

Uh, any kind of frappy-type beverage?

Maybe a pressed juice.

Does wonders for the colon.

No, thank you.

I, um... I'll just hang out.

You know, why don't I just get an assortment?

Right? Then we can decide later.

Sorry for your loss, detective.

Sorry, I think you're confused. I didn't know any of the victims.

No, I meant your husband.

Excuse me?

I noticed a slight discoloration on your left ring finger.

Could be divorce, but most divorcees

don't wear their wedding band around their necks.

I put his death at under a year.

How would you know that?

Well, my assumption is that your drinking

is a recent development.

Squinting suggests a sensitivity to light,

slight decrease in respiratory function,

the mascara under your right eye is crooked.

I was in a hurry this morning.

And there's none under your left.

Well, well...

If this man had lived any longer,

he most certainly would have died of a heart attack.

So, you're saying he didn't die of a heart attack?

No.

Look at this.

Foaming on the lungs.

Pulmonary edema.

I believe this man was poisoned.

Wait, what?

That... That's your official diagnosis?

- It's a homicide? - Well, yes and no.