Author's notes

This is a fanfic based on the popular fanfic "Impaired" by Gaia Faye. Link for "Impaired": www . fanfiction dot net / s / 2438465 (remove spaces for address and replace dot with a fullstop/period)

It is a 'what-if', specifically exploring what might have happened if Walter was not interrupted in Chapter 24 when he tried to force Henry.

You will need to have read "Impaired" for this fic to make any sense (and I strongly encourage people to read it anyway, as it is the best Silent Hill 4 fic in my opinion, especially for Walter/Henry fans).

You may need to reread Chapter 24 to realise where exactly this fanfic diverges from the original fanfic. Link for chapter 24: www . fanfiction dot net / s / 2438465 / 29 / Impaired

Please also note that this is only 20% of the full fanfiction. The rest is rated MA and can be found on my Livejournal or AO3 account (see profile for links)

Warnings for rape/noncon, dubcon and some violence.

The first two paragraphs are quotes from "Impaired" by Gaia Faye.

He didn't know what to do when Walter kissed him. He was motionless. He felt nothing. But Walter released his right wrist and held the side of Henry's face, holding him still, and Henry felt Walter's tongue slip past his lips. Henry's stomach twisted and his free hand shoved at Walter's chest. But he was too strong. Henry ground his teeth together, refusing. Walter's grip on his face tightened, fingers pressing into his jaw, just like that first day, when he made Henry drink. So long ago when Walter first declared his love, the same day he took the knife and jammed it through Henry's palm.

Walter's hips pushed up against Henry's, and through the layers of clothing Henry felt a hardness pressing into his groin. He wanted to scream but all that escaped beneath Walter's mouth was a frantic whine. Locks of greasy hair brushed against Henry's face as Walter's stubble scraped at the skin around his mouth. And all he could smell in the darkness was blood.

Chapter 24, "Impaired" by Gaia Faye

There was a sudden sharp pain in his wrist as Walter dug his nails in and a cry of shock left him.. He had been shoving his left hand against Walter's chest but he faltered from the pain, and Walter pressed forward even more, trapping his hand against his chest.

Walter's nails broke the skin, and the muscles in Henry's hand spasmed in pain, releasing the knife and letting it fall to the ground. The hand holding Henry's face released its grip, and stroked down his neck in an imperfect parody of affection. Walter moaned into Henry's mouth, still kissing him and his breath escaped from his nostrils, warming his skin.

His body was tingling from the contact, the warm, heavy body pressed against him. It was a strange mixture of thrill and revulsion. He'd never been attracted to guys, it had always been women. But how long had it been since he'd touched a woman? Not for years. During the whole nightmare before, when he was trying to save Eileen, he had felt a connection with her that made him hope they might have something if they managed to survive. But he had failed her then, and he had failed her now. How had he even dared to think he'd had a chance with her? He failed because he was weak, and this was his punishment.

Panic built up in him, until it felt like a physical thing sitting under his throat. A choked sob burst out from his throat and he twisted his body violently. He managed to dislodge Walter from his mouth and he inhaled like he had been drowning, his breaths sharp and shallow. He was echoed by Walter's shaky breaths, hot against his face.

"Mother gave you to me. My Chosen."

And then the hot breath was gone suddenly and the hand gripping his wrist pulled him forward, leading him somewhere.

"Don't you fucking-!" Henry yelled, lashing out and hitting Walter's back, too terrified to form his words properly.

His face exploded in pain the next second. Walter had punched him. He gasped and his free hand came over his nose, his feet tripping slightly. He didn't think it was broken but when blood smeared over his hand he realised his lip had split. He felt blood dripping from his nose. Walter yanked him forwards violently and as he stumbled he was shoved in the back.

He flew forward and hit something – the bed; sprawling over it. His heart was hammering in his throat. Walter had brought him to the bedroom…

He tried to push himself up, and felt the bed shift from another weight. But before he could react he was pushed over onto his back, and Walter was straddling him. Henry screamed and lashed out with his hands; his nails caught on the face above him but his hands were quickly caught and pinned to the bed.

Henry was screaming, he barely recognised his own voice, and he struggled against the restraining grip, kicking his legs uselessly against the bed. Walter was yelling at him but the words were lost in his panic.

Eventually his struggles died down, and he lay there shuddering and gasping. Tears were running down his face. Walter was talking, shushing him and speaking in a low, reassuring tone. His hands were holding Henry's wrists firmly, stroking the skin.

"Ssshhh, sshhh … Henry – my beautiful Receiver … You don't understand … but Mother will help you see, she'll save you … I'll save you…"

He wiped the tears and blood from Henry's face, his touch tender and soft. Henry opened his mouth and choked out;

"Walter, please-"

Henry was sobbing now as he pleaded with Walter, but Walter shushed him, kissing him on the forehead and cheeks. He wanted to cry out for someone to help him, but he knew there was no one in this place who would. Everyone here wanted him to … reciprocate. He wouldn't be surprised if that bitch Miranda held him down while Walter-

He stopped his thoughts before he could get any further, his stomach turning. He made another attempt to escape Walter's hold, but Walter merely gripped him tighter, waiting for his weak thrashings to cease.

No one was coming to save him. He hadn't saved Eileen and no one would save him from this nightmare. There was no point in fighting anymore, he'd been fighting the whole time since he woke up back here and it hadn't done anything, he hadn't changed anyone's mind, hadn't even been able to stop Her from speaking through him. His fate had been sealed the moment Walter ripped out his eyes. This was his punishment for failing all those times, for living such a pathetic, worthless life.

"Don't cry, Henry … I'm here … I'll look after, I'll save you … I love you…"

And Walter kissed him again, softly. Henry didn't know what he was feeling. It was like he was separate from his body, watching everything happen to another person. Walter's mouth moved against his own and he passively let it happen. When he felt a tongue push against his lips, he opened his mouth slightly and let it in.

Walter's manner changed when he felt Henry respond. He kissed back more forcefully, his mouth moving and sucking hungrily. His grip on Henry's wrists loosened and he shifted his body, his crotch sliding down until it was pressed against Henry's own.

The contact shocked Henry and he shuddered, feeling nauseous, but didn't move. What was the point?

Walter broke off the kiss and nudged Henry's head to the side, kissing and sucking his neck. His hand moved down Henry's chest, stopping at his waist before slithering under his shirt. He murmured words into Henry's skin as he did so.

"Oh, Henry … you're so perfect … you're so beautiful … I love you … I love you I love you-"

Henry's sobs had died down, but his body still shuddered and jerked occasionally, as if trying to throw off the alien weight. The hand underneath his shirt started to tug on his shirt. Walter's other hand came down and pushed the material upwards; Henry realised he was trying to take his shirt off. The numbness in his body was spreading, infecting his brain with fuzzy static.

He felt Walter lift him up to a sitting position and pull the shirt off over his head. Pins and needles danced over his skin where the cotton shirt brushed against him. His face was pressed against Walter's chest in an intimate gesture ruined by the strong metallic scent of blood from the other man's coat.

He wanted to say something, to try to explain …that he didn't want this, that he wasn't attracted to men; but he knew there was no way to argue with Walter, to convince him of something. Mother had ordained it, and he would obey everything she asked. If Mother told him to love someone, he would love them. If She told him to take someone, he would.

Henry realised he had been laid back down on the bed and Walter's hands were everywhere, growing more and more urgent.

He felt nauseous, his stomach flip-flopping, and he pushed at the body on top of him, gaining a few centimetres of space between them. Walter paused in his caresses, his breath hot against Henry's face, staring at him. For a moment, no one moved; Walter's body was still pressed up against Henry, trapping him.

"Walter," Henry said, almost whispering, trying to keep his voice calm. "Stop this. If you really love me, you wouldn't force me. And I'm saying no, okay? I don't want this."

There was a terrifying pause before Walter answered.

"No. No, Mother wants me to do this. You need to accept my love. She will save you."

Henry was absolutely still, he felt icy cold, like someone had dumped water over him. He moved, trying to push Walter off him, but he already knew it was futile. He couldn't stop Walter. But he could at least make it damn difficult for him.

He lashed out and his left arm was seized quickly and pulled upwards sharply. He yelped and punched, hit and scratched Walter as much as he could with his right hand. His left arm was being tied with something fabric – his shirt, he realised – and in a matter of seconds Walter had tied his arm to the bed frame so tightly it hurt.

Walter grabbed his flailing right arm quickly and pinned it to the bed. There was a brief pause where all Henry could hear was the harsh breathing from both of them.

"You son of a bi-" he hissed and he was suddenly backhanded across the face, words momentarily leaving him in the pain.

"Don't talk about Mother like that."

"You fucker! I'll never forgive you for this! You can forget about sitting in the room watching me like the creep you are, because next time I'll fucking kill you!"

Walter was holding Henry's right hand with one hand while he grunted and did something else with his other hand. Henry tried to take advantage of Walter's distraction, and eventually his struggles got an annoyed reaction from Walter, who pinned his arm down with both hands before shifting his body backwards and bringing his left boot down, pressing into the soft skin of Henry's forearm. Henry winced.

Walter's boot was caked in mud or blood, and maybe other things Henry didn't want to think about. Walter was moving above him, he heard clothes rustling, a zipper being undone, he realised Walter was undressing. A shot of adrenaline burst through him and he pulled his right arm out sharply, grazing his skin badly but ignoring it. He gripped the underside of Walter's boot and pushed back as hard as he could with one hand. Walter fell back with a grunt and Henry kicked him, feeling gleeful satisfaction when he heard Walter fall off the end of the bed. He immediately started trying to free his left arm, but he was clumsy doing it with just one hand; he couldn't see the knot or feel how it was tied together properly.

His hand was ripping away abruptly. Walter had come back. His right arm was being tied tightly with some kind of fabric, cotton, probably Walter's T-shirt. Henry kicked at every available surface of the man leaning over him, but Walter simply ignored him. In several seconds both his arms were tied to the head of the bed. Henry pulled at his restraints, feeling horribly vulnerable.

And then Walter was pulling at the pajama pants and even though Henry was struggling, kicking and twisting his body, all that seemed to do was help Walter pull them off quicker. All Henry was wearing now were the plain briefs he'd been given. He kicked out, terrified the Walter was going to take them off too, but his kicks just met empty air. His body tensed and he pushed himself up into a sitting position, as far against the metal frame as he could get, his knees right against his chest.

"Henry."

Walter's voice was soft and Henry felt sick at the amount of feeling in just that one word.

"Don't-!" He yelled. "Don't come any closer!"

"Henry. I don't want to tie your legs up as well. I want you to enjoy this. If you struggle I can't be gentle with you. You don't want to get hurt, do you?"

Henry shook his head without even thinking about it. He realised his whole body was shaking. He couldn't control it. There was gentle touch on his shoulder and he flinched but didn't move. He felt sick. There was some kind of ringing sound echoing in his ears and a disassociated feeling creeping up inside him.

"Please don't," he heard himself say, pathetically.

There was no answer but arms enveloping him. Walter stayed sitting there for a while, holding Henry tight until he stopped shaking. His arms were starting to hurt in this position and when his body relaxed slightly, Walter manoeuvred him into a prone position, firmly but carefully, and then straddled him. Henry felt ridiculously relieved that Walter was still wearing his boxers, although the naked skin contact elsewhere was incredibly uncomfortable. He felt the other man's lips kiss him on the neck, sucking and licking at him, and he turned his head to the side, biting his lips. He felt terrified and sick, but there was nothing he could do. The only thing he could do was endure it.

The rest of the fanfiction can be found in full on my Livejournal or AO3 account (please see profile for links).