A/N

So one very kind reviewer pointed out that they were confused over why Eileen and Henry don't defacto bump uglies in this fic, so I would like to bring it to everyone else's attention that this is a 'What If' alternative universe fic in which Henry's reality in 302 is not Eileen's. Hopefully that'll clear up any further confusion for other H/E fans :) Enjoy!

'These flowers are so lovely, thank you.'

Taking the delicate stems into her bruised hands, she fingers the petals lightly; blue and yellow contrasting with the pale pink of the roses.

'I wasn't sure what you'd like, so the sales assistant recommended these roses. They're in season apparently,' Henry feels like a buffoon, his tongue becoming too big for his mouth as he continues to ramble on about the roses. Eileen smiles, patiently, nodding and ahhing along with his story.

'She was right, you can never go wrong with roses,' she smiles and the room instantly becomes ten times brighter.

Henry is instantly tongue tied and so the pair sit in silence for what feels like an eternity. Eileen continues to twirl the roses between her fingertips. Henry opens his dry mouth and runs his tongue over his chapped lips. His arm aches. He is about to excuse himself, it was foolish for him to come here, when Eileen speaks in her slow lilting voice.

'Henry...'

He stiffens.

'I don't mean to be rude, but why did you come to visit me today?'

Henry feels his cheeks flame instantaneously and he takes two steps back away from the bed, dress shoes slipping on the freshly polished floor.

'Oh, I'm sorry! That came out wrong! What I meant to say was, we were never close, were we? And after you spent all those days locked up without talking to anyone, why would you leave your room just to visit me? We've barely spoken more than two words to each other in the past six months,'Eileen has nearly torn the rose to shreds as she speaks, nervous hands picking apart the supple green stem in strips.

'I guess what I'm trying to say, is I'm flattered.'

Henry is speechless, his mind is whirring and churning her words like a carousel.

'Eileen, don't you remember?' he feels like begging on his hands and knees. He has already had to explain his story to the police and the nurses who had fixed his arm, even an omitted recount of his trials in Walter's hell had been met with a psychiatric survey and a pep talk from a counsellor.

'Remember what, Henry?' her delicate brow rumples in a frown, causing the bandage that was taped there to bulge forwards, giving Henry a brief glimpse of the jagged red cut beneath.

'That...that place! The holes, the ghosts, blood and rust and Walter?' Henry is trying to stop himself from becoming frantic. The bullet wound in his forearm is pounding as blood rushes to the puckered healing flesh.

'Henry, what are you talking about?' Eileen's voice wavers between concern and panic, her finger hovering over the call-nurse button.

'How can you not remember Walter?' Henry's fist tightens within the sling.

'Who on earth is Walter? Are you alright, Henry?'

'He's the man who did this to you! He attacked you in your room, in that other-place. Eileen, you can't be serious!'

Eileen's face drops as she takes in the man before her. Henry's face and chest is flushed and blotched, his breathing erratic. He looks ready to explode.

'Henry, I was mugged coming home from a party last night. Didn't Frank tell you that?'

Henry's entire world has stopped turning.

'No...no. I'm sorry, Eileen. It was a mistake to come here, I'll go,' Henry turns and is out of the room before Eileen can react.

Eileen gazes at the beautiful pink roses laid in her lap.

'Guess I'll have to find a new place to live, huh?' she mutters, pressing the call button and asking the nurse to throw the roses into the trash.