A/N

Following a suggestion from melissaadams22, I've decided to write a sequel to the last chapter. Thank you, Melissa :)

That reminds me. If you guys have any suggestions for chapters, please don't hesitate to drop me a line. I don't bite. Much. :D

As always, I don't own anything. (Saying that is going to get old – fast.) And yet again, I sincerely hope you enjoy the update.

-Louise


When Henry woke up, the first thing he noticed was how insanely bright everything was. Blinking rapidly, he tried to make sense of where he was. He smelt fresh blood and antiseptic and stainless steel, so he guessed he was in the infirmary. But why?

Groaning, he struggled up into a sitting position and looked around. Aside from him, the place was empty and silent. Henry swung his legs over the side of the bed, but was stopped by a sudden, burning flare of pain in his side.

"Shit." He hissed, his hands immediately flying to the wound. What the...?

Everything came roaring back in a whirlwind of colours. White-hot flashes of pain rocketed through his mind, betrayal and fear stinging like he was being whipped over and over again.

"Come on, freak!"

Rachel's heart, failing.

Henry's control, slipping.

And Gerald, waiting to die. The confession; he'd tried to kill Henry. Wanting Henry to kill him. Disgust, hatred, anger; all dancing through his half-crazed eyes.

"God." Henry groaned, burying his face in his hands, "Oh my God."

He couldn't remember anything else. Doctor Magnus, promising him Rachel was stabilising. Will, asking if he was okay. After that... nothing. His eyes flickered briefly to the bandage wrapped tightly around his forearm, and Henry squeezed his eyes shut. Who was the real monster out of him and Gerald? Was it himself, the literal kind, the one that couldn't control himself?

Or Gerald; the one who was willing to do anything to rid himself of the guilt? To pass it on to someone else?

Henry wrapped his arms around his stomach to keep from throwing up.

There was the sound of a door opening. Henry smelt cologne, leather and freshly-printed paper – the scent that Will always carried with him. He didn't even need to look up.

"Hey." Will greeted him gently, "You're awake."

"Yeah." Henry murmured, "How's Rachel?"

"She's good. Stable. She's awake. Asking for you, actually." Will said with a smile, "She's going to be okay, Henry."

"Thank God." Henry breathed, relief washing over him like a tidal wave.

"How are you feeling?" Will asked, his voice a mix between professional shrink and concerned friend. Henry didn't know which approach Will was going for – and he'd bet that Will didn't either.

"Honestly?" Henry shrugged, "Shit. Really bad. I got knifed, Will, how do you think I feel?" Okay, maybe that last part was a bit uncalled for.

"Fair call." Will agreed, "But I'm talking mentally as well as physically. From what Magnus told me, some pretty heavy stuff went down in there."

Thanks for the reminder, Will. "I don't have many real friends, man. You, the Big Guy and the Doc are pretty much the only close ones I've got left." Henry ran a hand through his hair and avoided Will's piercing gaze, "Gerald and I have been buddies since forever. He was always good about... the bad Henry; they both were."

"So you're feeling a little betrayed." Will summarised. Henry finally met his eyes.

"A little? Will, he forced me into changing, just so I could kill him and he wouldn't have to live with what he'd done anymore. That pretty much constitutes as a big fucking betrayal." He snarled, his hands curling into fists. His voice broke. "He knows how much I hate it, how terrible it is..."

Will stared at him for a long time. "Desperation does awful things to a person, Henry." He said finally, "But you didn't kill him. You didn't let him control you. You stayed human."

"Barely." Henry shook his head, "A part of me thinks it would've been so much easier to just let go. I want to kill him, Will. I want to kill him and that scares me. Because I could. So easily."

"But you didn't." Will said firmly. "You're a strong person. One of the strongest I know. What you're feeling right now is completely normal."

"Except I'm not. And that makes all the difference."

"Not all that much, Henry. I would know."

"Yeah. You're the shrink, I guess."

The two sat in silence for a long while, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Will understood Henry's need for quiet, the need for time to think things over. Henry was just grateful he wasn't trying to probe answers out of him like all those Hollywood shrinks you saw on TV. Maybe he'd decided on the concerned friend approach after all.

Finally, Henry broke. "I think the thing that gets me the most is that it should've been me."

"What do you mean?" Will asked.

"Rachel was bugging me about feeding Jack, but I was so caught up in whatever the hell I was doing that I couldn't duck out for two minutes to feed him. If I'd been there first, if I'd been the one to open the door... well I'd be the one dying, and she'd be with Gerald. None of this would've happened." Henry muttered, "It's my fault."

"It really isn't, Henry." Will said firmly, "You're just feeling Survivor's Guilt. Do you really think Rachel would've preferred it that way? To have you in her place?"

"Maybe. I don't know, Will. I just know what I would've preferred."

"There's nothing you can do to change what happened."

"That doesn't make it hurt any less."

Will sighed. "You're right. But none of this is your fault. None of it, understand? Gerald chose to do what he did."

"I don't even really blame him," Henry sighed, "I should've stayed out of it. I was stupid to believe I was actually helping them. I guess I just didn't want to let go of a good thing. Especially after Ash... well, I was desperate for some familiarity, I suppose. Something to remind me that not everything is so Goddamn hopeless. Rachel dragged me out of dark times, and I'll never stop owing her for that, but I think she got something different out of it. I love her, Will, but not enough to be what she wants us to be." Henry's voice had dropped to almost a whisper.

"Maybe you and I should talk more often, Henry." Will said softly, reaching out and placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Sounds like you've got a few issues you need to work through."

"I don't need a psychiatrist." Henry muttered, "I need my lab and my computer and something to fix."

Will smiled. "I didn't mean as your psychiatrist, Henry." He said, "I meant as your friend. You know I'm here if you ever need to talk to someone."

"Thanks Will," Henry nodded slowly, "But not right now, okay? Right now I need to sort all this out for myself. I have to see Rachel."

Will offered him a sympathetic smile. "Do what you need to do. I'll clear it with Doctor Magnus while you get your head around this."

Together, they stood up. "Thanks, Will." Henry said simply. "I owe you a lot."

"Hey," Will grinned, "You've fixed my computer more times than I can count, and saved my ass countless more. It's about time I start returning favours."

"Let's just call it even." Henry suggested with a small smile.

"Deal."

Henry sighed and looked back at the bed he'd been lying on. "I've gotta' go. I think I have to break Rachel's heart."

"Good luck." Will said, patting him on the back as they headed for the exit.

Maybe Will was right. He was strong. Strong enough to resist the monster, strong enough to keep in control.

He wasn't close to healing, not by a long shot, but he'd found somewhere to start. And he knew he had people that would help him along every step of the way. He had to hurt Rachel, but he knew she wouldn't abandon him because of it. He had Doctor Magnus and The Big Guy and Will, and the metal band on his wrist reminded him every day that Ashley was just a memory away.

He wasn't weak. And he wasn't alone.

And he was beginning to actually believe that.