I do not own any part of Konami nor do I benefit from writing this fic... I just like to have fun...

This fic is set a few years after Silent Hill 4: The Room. Eileen is now in her mid - early twenties, and Henry is still lingering on the memories of his experiences in Silent Hill, and his love for Eileen who died at the hands of Walter Sullivan.

Enjoy!

-A.E.

----Henry Townshend----

The blow to my right leg had been my undoing.

A sickening crack shuddered up my body, bringing with it a terrible tsunami of pain that wracked my body into an unwilling stasis before I crumbled to a heap on the ground. I let out a low cry, and turned my head upward. Gazing into the steely eyes of a man whose heart had died with his body years ago, I knew begging for my life would get me now where. Yet, faced with my own demise, I found I could not help but ask send a plea to deaf ears. "Please, I can't die! Let me and Eileen go..." The words tore themselves from my throat in a rasp that echoed through the room. Followed by silence...

"You are the last, and final of the 21 Sacraments. Now, Henry... You will die this day." Walter Sullivan allowed that familiar sadistic smile fall across his lips, and slowly he tightened his grip around the heavy pipe in his hand. Knuckles turning white.

"You sick bastard! You can't!" I reached out behind me, my hands clawing at the rusted metal panel that served as the floor to my own terrible Hell. My finger nails digging into the paneling as I tried to drag myself away from the hazardous blow which would come from a single swing of the pipe which was already wet with my blood.

Slowly, very slowly, Sullivan raised the pipe. Savoring the feelings of victory as he finally claimed his prize. He was just moments away from beating away the only thing that stood in his way... Me. Fear swelled up in my chest, and burst past my lips in a anguished cry that sounded in a single name, "Eileen!"

And then, he swung.

Pain erupted on the left side of my head, searing a course around my skull. A distinguishable crack could be heard, as my temple exploded into a myriad of pieces as the metal bit into my final memory. My body jerked to the right and I landed on my stomach, still clinging to life. I had but a moment longer to make my piece with God, whatever one I so choose to, before he snuffed out my life completely.

"Mother..." I heard him whisper before the final blow was given.

I sat up, my body slick with a cold sweat. A cry of terror still lingered in the bedroom as my eyes sought recognition as to where I was.

"Henry! Jesus you scared me!" A small hand crept onto my forearm, but I managed to pull it from her grasp. Still suffering from the night terror that hung fresh in my memory. " Henry, it me, it's me!"

I shook my head, and turned to face a pair of amber eyes, that questioned the horror that still plagued my heart into a rapid beat. "God, I'm sorry." I apologized. I leaned forward, my elbows meeting my knees. Resting my head in my hands, I let my fingers grip my thick blonde hair as though trying to tear the fresh images from my mind. "I'm so sorry, Heather."

Her gaze softened. "I-I'll go get you some water, it always helps me when I have a bad dream... Hold on..."

Tear gnawed at the corners of my eyes. "No." I said sharply. "Don't go." Looking up at Heather... My Heather, I pleaded with watery blue eyes.

She bit her lower lip and relaxed back into the bed and eased her arms around my shoulders. "It's alright Henry... I won't leave, I promise."

Normally, I would have felt pathetic. Having to be held by Heather, when instead, I should be holding her. Somehow, tonight it felt right to be held by my strong Heather. After a few moments, I wrapped my arm around her waist and settled us back into the bed. My eyes locked with hers. Leaning forward, I took her lips into a desperate kiss which I knew would lead to much more.

But tonight... I didn't care...

—Heather Mason----

I love Henry, and I wish he loved me. But I fear he will never be able to let go of Eileen. That is why I haven't told him yet...

I stand in front of the mirror which hangs down from our closet, my hands gently rubbing my stomach. I try again and again to picture myself with a belly as big as a watermelon, but I can't. I remember the last time I was supposed to give birth, God. It didn't end so well for her, I made sure of that...

This would be different though, it was Henry's baby not some future "prophecy" that would bring sure doom to the world. This was a good, thing wasn't it?
I promised myself that I would tell Henry today, he had to know the truth. Even if it did break him he had to know that this baby was his and I was keeping it...

Somewhere within the dark depths of Silent Hill a prophet laughed.