A/N: Oh my god you guys are awesome… I'm so glad you're enjoying the story so much- the reviews I'm getting are absolutely shocking me. Damn, I got standards now. Standards? What are those !? I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. :) You guys are amazing.

Splashing cold water on his face felt like taking a dip into the atmosphere of an alien planet. Will looked up, water dripping down his chin, and then averted his eyes away from the weak trash staring back at him in the mirror. That wasn't him. He could never look like that: eyes puffy like cotton balls, and red like strawberries, and bags under his eyes so deep they were crushing his cheekbones. He felt like crying at the image he saw before him.

But he smashed his face against the towel, and wiped all the wetness away.

There was a man in the corner, watching, dressed in uniform, because Will was under police custody now and he wasn't allowed to be alone. In a way, Will was kind of thankful for that.

"I'll walk you there." Halt started to head in the direction from whence Will had come. He didn't stop, even when Will didn't follow him, and Will instead stared like he'd dreamt up those words.

"What?"

Halt snapped, "Being alone after a conversation like that is dangerous for you, okay?"

Will smiled on the inside, when he remembered that, because his lips were too weary to move. A feeling of desperation flooded over him.

"I know I'm a stranger, but stay here a little longer with me," he pleaded. "Please."

Halt nodded. "I will," he whispered back.

Will thought, I'm sorry, Ferris… I wasn't strong enough. It was impossible for him not to cry now. Only when he lifted the towel up again did he realize that he had put it down, and was staring into the eyes of the junkie in the mirror again. Only, he didn't see that guy. He saw Ferris.

Now he saw himself.

Will didn't know if this was a reaction to being so disgusted at the person in front of him, or if it was solely physical, but he felt his stomach turn and jump up in his throat. He heaved over into the sink and faced the consequences of four beers and half a pack of marijuana.

After Will was finished throwing up his insides, he sat back down on the bench and the guard stood idly nearby. He was unnecessary. Will had no intention of running, because he wanted to face the consequences of doing something both destructive and illegal. But he was beginning to realize more and more as he came off his high that he was absolutely terrified of doing what he wanted to.

And that was the biggest paradox. He started to wonder if he wanted to go to jail for this, or if that just the responsible person in him talking.

Let's look on the bright side, he thought to himself. He hadn't hurt anyone, thank God… right? He hoped. Will told himself that if he hurt anyone, there would be a memory of a struggle with the cops when they arrested him, but that wasn't concrete enough to easy his worries. He guessed he'd find out- they'd tell him.

He thought, Never again. Don't you dare do that again, Will… Two beers, at the most, that was the agreed limit. What happened?! How did I become like this?!

He turned to the officer standing guard nearby. "What's going to happen to me?" he asked.

His voice was so quiet it might as well have been a whisper. He thought for a second, when the man didn't answer, that he hadn't been heard. So he asked again. He saw the officer's eyes flicker to him, then back away, like Will was Medusa and if the man stared for even half a second he would turn completely to stone.

Why won't he look at me? Will asked himself. Do I really look that disgusting? He looked down at his shirt, spotted with stains of spilled beer like splatter paint art. He sniffed the air, and caught the whiff of alcohol, drugs, bitterness, and silence.

Will wiped his stinging eyes with the end of his right sleeve. The last thing this face needed was tears. It hurt when he touched his eyes, but his heart took all the pain for them. It was doing that lately. How nice of it.. to collect all the pain and aches his muscles held and hurting two thousand times more for them.

He looked up. Even though he was clearly suffering, the officer hadn't turned his head. "What have I done?" Will whispered. "What's going to happen to me, officer?"

And right as he said that, he saw a very familiar face step in the door. He stood tall, with a shopping bag in one hand, and he looked at Will in an assertive way that made Will certain that this man had come to see him, and only him. He looked at him like there was nothing else to look at.

"Come on," Halt said, holding out his hand.

Will just stared. He didn't know what to say.

A cop behind Halt explained better, "Mr. Treaty, you're free to go. You've been let off with a warning… if you are reported to have been smoking, buying, or handling marijuana, you will be arrested and given a fair trial."

Will was so confused. His eyebrows came together; whatever words were on his tongue that he wanted to get out didn't budge, they just stuck there, and it was doubtful that he would ever get them unstuck. What…? he thought. How is that possible? I broke the law. And Ferris, he… what?

Halt's hand was still outstretched, waiting for Will to take it. "What, do you want me to un-bail you?" he asked, sardonically. Will felt like the words that reached his ears were only the tip of the iceberg of what was really coming out of his mouth. "Come on," he said. "Let's get out of here."

Will still couldn't take his hand, could he? It looked so far away. Seeing Ferris standing above him, reaching down so far below to offer him charity was like a close encounter with the third kind. Maybe there was a person behind him that Halt was reaching down to. That would make more sense. The only thing that didn't make sense was how Halt was staring into his eyes, as if Will was just like him. He looked at him like there was nothing else to look at.

"I can walk, okay?"

"I seriously doubt it."

Will insisted on being able to walk on his own, without using Halt as a crutch, but Halt wasn't having it. He felt like a burden. He apologized several times for it- for everything, but Halt brushed it off. Will was worried if the meaning even got through.

"Just let me try," Will insisted. He was very stubborn, and wouldn't back down. "I'll prove it to you."

"I'm not going to risk that you'll fall and hurt yourself. It would be even harder for you to walk after that."

Will struggled to get away from Halt. Ironically, he almost fell while trying too hard to make his escape, and that was the only reason why he got away. Halt knew that if they kept up this fighting, Will may hurt himself more than he would if he just fell on his own; so Halt let him go.

Will took one step, and he was fine. He smiled at Halt, like a peacock proudly showing off his feathers. That still wasn't enough to convince Halt he was wrong. He held his confidence, like Will held his. Then Will took another step, and his right knee betrayed him. He stumbled, unable to catch himself, and for a moment he saw a piece of his life flash before his eyes. Time slowed (to a halt), and when it returned to normal, there were a pair of hands around his body. The only things holding him up. The embrace of another person felt so new… Not just the embrace. Anyone could embrace a person. It was the powerful experience of being so close to someone that you can actually feel their entire body moving whilst touching only one part. There was no word for that.

"I told you," Halt grumbled. "I'll hold you up, okay? so don't be so impatient to go off on your own again."

Will avoided Halt's eyes. He looked anywhere but his face, specifically at the place in his chest, on his black jacket where his heart hid beneath all the layers. He leaned in closer to it, like if he got close enough he could hear what Halt was really saying inside there, all the feelings that his mouth prohibited. What was really going on inside Halt's head? He had to wonder. He felt like he should know that, but they'd only known each other for a little more than a day. If they were so new to each other, why did Will feel like they were already one person?

It was a perfect time for his stomach to turn. Will yanked himself away from Halt. He stumbled, walking on his knees, going as far away from Halt as he could go before he threw up. He couldn't let Halt see him like that.

But while he it was still happening, Will felt the few strands of hair being pulled back away from his face, with gentleness that he'd only felt once before, by one other person. When he was done vomiting, he sat back on his heels feeling weak and ready to faint. He breathed like he had just run a marathon.

"Getting it out of your system is good for you," Halt said, compassion in his voice. "It's bad now, but if you don't do it, you'll get even sicker."

Will nodded. He tried to stand up again, but his knees were too weak to even try. The world wouldn't stay still. Was he going to pass out?

Halt knelt next to him, close in case Will did pass out. At this point, time was catching up to him, so Will could've easily passed out from disorientation or sleepiness.

"It's… it's really late. How late is it?" asked Will, speaking in a low voice even though no one was there.

Halt recalled what it said on the clock just before he left. "Three o'clock," he answered. "In the AM." Halt would've let him stay in that spot for longer, but he was tired, and he couldn't imagine how tired Will must be. His apartment was closer, so that's where they headed, Halt's arm around Will, bearing 95% of his weight.

It was closer, and also, Halt didn't trust Will to be alone that night. He'd already done enough damage to himself, and he was going to protect him before he did any more. The only comforting thing about this was the knowledge that you can't overdose on marijuana.

"They had me stay for a few hours while you came down," Halt told him. He'd read his new book from cover to cover, but he didn't tell him this.

"Oh… I'm, I'm sorry."

"I'm not upset." Will was slipping, so he adjusted their position and got a better grip on his side before continuing down the empty sidewalk. "It's not like I had anything else to do."

"What about sleep?"

"Sleep is overrated."

Will disagreed, but it was only his opinion.

When no conversation led up to Will's next question, and he had no way to pose it but to bluntly ask him, he asked him. "Why did you do that for me?"

Halt didn't even hesitate. "Because you don't belong in jail," he answered.

"But I'm not going to trial," Will said. "Even if you bailed me out, I'd still have to be found guilty or innocent, because I broke the law… Why did he say I've been let off the hook? The law doesn't work that way, does it?"

"Do you ever manage to ask just one question at a time? Or does it always have to be multiple choice with you?"

Will looked at him quizzically. "Do I do that? Are you sure?"

Halt didn't even consider answering that.

"No, but seriously. How?"

Halt was almost to his hotel room. They were walking up the steps to the door, when Will asked that again.

"I have my ways," he answered vaguely. "Don't dwell on it. Think of it as a favor."

"Oh… well," he replied, awkward, "I'll have to do a lot to pay that one off."

"It's not a loan, it's a gift. No payback necessary." Halt dug through his pocket for the key to the room, but it was trapped under his phone, his wallet, other papers, and a small but deadly knife. His hand brushed against the knife, and his heart jumped into his throat. He pushed it aside; put those thoughts out of his mind; moved on and found the key.

Meanwhile, Will was studying the sky. It was dark, but at three o'clock in the morning, it ought to be. But it was also empty, like it wasn't a sky. It looked hollow. Maybe the sky was just a big hole, and there was nothing else on the Earth but Araluen. Maybe they were the only two people alive, because that's exactly what it felt like. Maybe the only light on Earth was the light of the street lights and of the small wall lamp next to the door.

Maybe the world would end in two seconds. It would be swallowed up by the sky, and it wouldn't be mass murder, because there were only two people there. That wouldn't be so bad, would it? Now that he thought about it, Will wasn't sure if he would mind the world ending. Right at that moment, and not a second longer. He kept staring at the sky. At the hole. When was it going to take them inside?

"Any stars?" Halt asked.

Will answered, "No. Just a hole."

Halt nodded. Silently, he agreed. It certainly looked that way. Their new sky became the ceiling, after Halt led Will inside to his temporary home.

Will was blown away when Halt turned on the lights, and he said, "I expected a hotel room… this is more of a suite." True.

Perhaps the suite was a little too extravagant for his cover story, even though it was small compared to how grand the word sounded, but he'd never expected anyone to come inside, or care. Plus, he liked being able to cook for himself.

He walked with Will to the bed, and Will fell down on it like he hadn't seen a bed in eight years. In the five seconds that he had been there, it was already home to him.

Halt watched him bury his head in the pillows, while he took off his jacket and hung it up in the closet. "Have you decided which bed you want yet?" he asked, sardonic.

Will smiled. His words, "Yes, actually I have," were muffled by the pillow.

"Don't fall asleep yet," Halt muttered. "You'll want to change your clothes."

Suddenly Halt was stabbed with a spear of silence. A pause. An exclamation. Like a knife in the back of his heart. He turned, to see why he'd been stabbed, and the murder weapons were Will's eyes. Carving into him.

The silence wasn't hitting them like the sharp end of a needle anymore, it was fragile. The slightest movement could shatter it and something nameless would happen. "This is a really nice place…" Will whispered. "Why am I here?"

Halt dared to lean against the closet. "Because you weren't strong enough to make it to your house," he answered, also whispering.

Will's heart was in his ears. Halt had no idea. When he understood completely what was going on, it was too late and Will was already making an escape plan. There was a window by the bed. If he got a big enough start, he could crash through it, or open it and jump out. Maybe break a few bones. But that was okay.

He stood up from the bed, slowly… careful not to disturb the silence… It was still fragile, like ice.

That was when Halt understood. "Wait, Will…" he said. His habitational tone that most times lacked empathy was gone, and replaced with quite the opposite. "I don't mean that."

"You… can't be too careful these days," said Will. "I had this friend once, who had something similar happen to him. You and I have been running into each other for a few days now."

Halt shook his head. "No, no, don't think of me like that. I wouldn't hurt you."

"How can I be so sure?"

How could he? It's because he was right.

Sort of.

Halt wasn't here to do what Will was thinking, but he had to do something similar.

His thoughts went back to the small knife in his pocket. It was right there. He could grab it and wield it in less than a second. Will wouldn't have a chance for escape, and Halt never gave anyone his real identity. He'd used his fake one, Ferris Butler.

He could be out of Araluen in an hour and back to headquarters by the morning light…

He could put this all behind him…

But…

Will would die with fear in his eyes, and he would die fearing Halt.

The idea of Will's blood on the sheets… spreading slowly as the first drops of rain finally started to fall outside, from the hollow sky… was a thought that made Halt feel indescribably ill…

Halt looked into his target's eyes. Red, but revealing some brown inside the iris. Tears in them. One slid down his cheek and Halt wanted to run away from this job forever. Go off. Take Will with him, or don't. But he knew he would. He could live on his fake identity, and it'd be a hard life, but anything would be better than seeing Will lying on the floor, bleeding, looking into his eyes with fear and hatred.

He reached into his pocket, and wrapped his fingers around the item when he found it, lying on top of the pile.

His car keys.

He held them out to Will. "Drive yourself home," he whispered, so ghostly that his words were taken away by the silence as soon as he said them. "Not now. When you know you can drive safely. I won't force you to stay here."

He had imagined sleeping that night with Will safely in the other room, breathing, alive. The thought of Will alive, breathing, actually gave him chills, like it was something hush hush that should be kept on the down low; controversial, but tempting. But Will had a point. And if it made him feel safer, then so be it.

Will was very cautious whilst leaning forward to take the keys. When he finally did, and stood up, and started to walk out the door, he found to his surprise that Halt did nothing. But that didn't stop him from leaving.

Halt had imagined sleeping that night with Will safely in the other room, breathing, alive. The thought of Will alive, breathing, actually gave him chills, like it was something hush hush that should be kept on the down low; controversial, but tempting. But Will had a point. And if it made him feel safer, then so be it.

"Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." – Albert Einstein

But when he had those thoughts again, he found something different. It led him somewhere else. It led him to something much, much scarier.

He thought:

Will made the right choice.