Alex's P.O.V

A woman with two children passed by him at them museum and for a horrid second Alex thought back to his mother. How thrilled she would have been to see Josh. Maybe, had she survived, she would've felt safe enough to pretend to love Alex like she did her youngest son.

She insisted moments before her death that she always loved Alex but that the evil covenant prevented her from showing it. Even though it all seemed logical in Alex's head, he didn't believe her. You don't choose to kill a child if you love them. That bitch of a judge was more than proof when she bragged about killing her own daughter. Poor Elle.

He stopped the thoughts before they spiraled out of control and send him into an unnecessary depression. The woman and kids were gone now, off to see the spectacles of this big ass museum. Alex forced himself to focus on anyone that may be suspicious. It also kept his thoughts away from Esmond.

"Um…excuse me."

A woman's voice. Alex turned to set his eyes on an unfamiliar face. She was about his age, he would guess, with short brunette hair. Her eyes were full of wonder as he stared at her.

"You can.." she drawled.

"Yes, ma'am?" Alex asked.

The woman looked around like she feared someone was watching. When she seemed satisfied that they were alone, she continued.

"You can see me? Henry sent me."

Her words struck Alex cold. It suddenly hit him hard that she must be another of Walter's many victims. If that was the case, she had to be a ghost.

Another ghost was talking to him. His mouth suddenly felt dry.

The woman saw the affect she had, so she sent out to remedy the situation, smiling apologetically.

"I'm sorry to startle you but it's urgent. Our killer found out about you and now he's angry."

Alex was about to jump out of his skin. Walter Sullivan was going to come after him and Josh! The female ghost held out a hand in an attempt to soothe.

"Don't worry," she told him, "He doesn't know who you are exactly. He just knows that Henry's been talking to a living being. We don't know how he found out and Henry was afraid to contact you directly in case Walter followed him."

It was hard to digest this new, horrid information. Alex wanted to deny it was true. The fact that Esmond had him by the balls was bad enough without this damn Sullivan complicating things.

"When can I see Henry?" he asked.

Here, the woman frowned and shook her head sadly. Alex felt like more sickening news was on its way. He didn't want to hear it but the dead woman continued anyway.

"It's too risky. Henry wants to see you again but…"

"But," Alex found himself automatically pressing.

"Walter is watching him all the time. He barely leaves him alone long enough to cross the street let alone to let him see anyone. It's simply obsessive. There's nothing we can do when our killer wants to do something."

"You can't fight?" Alex pressed for any form of solution.

She shook her head.

"No, we can't. Walter has all the weapons. Henry and I use to have a few before we died but he took those."

Her words shot Alex through the heart.

"You guys had weapons. So you guys fought him before you died?"

The woman seemed to understand something was brewing in Alex's mind but she had the sense not to pry. She nodded her affirmation.

"Yes. We were trapped in his world. I thought Henry had locked himself in his room but it was Walter's trap. He couldn't get out and soon I was trapped with him. We tried to escape but he got to us in the end."

And to think Alex had accused Henry of not doing anything. It never occurred to him that Henry was trapped. He figured Henry could leave at any time. He felt the terrible guilt feeling weighing his heart down.

"Oh no."

He had nothing else to say for himself. The woman reached out to touch him but he felt nothing. Literally. Her hand went through him.

But the thought was enough to touch Alex's heart. He glanced at the woman in gratitude. She smiled.

"I better go. Walter might figure out Henry sent me somewhere and look for me. If he catches me talking to you-"

"Wait. Can I have your name?"

"Eileen Gavin. I was his 20th victim of the 21 Sacraments. I got to go now. Maybe we can figure out a way to safely get Henry to you."

She waved at him and left. Alex watched her go, wondering what the 21 Sacraments were suppose to be.

Henry's P.O.V.

If he walked outside, he would follow. If he talked to another ghost, he would listen intently. It was only luck that Eileen stopped by. Henry gave her a silent look and she realized from previous conversations what she must do now.

She would be shocked to learn that Alex could see ghosts, Henry thought. Walter was everywhere that it was driving Henry nuts. They didn't speak to each other but Walter would occasionally look at him as if to ask if he decided to tell him yet.

At least he was willing to leave him alone in his bedroom, though Henry didn't know why. The killer was right outside in the living room, so Henry closed his bedroom door for any extra privacy he could get.

He wanted to grab a fistful of hair and yank it from his skull. Walter had lost his mind. So far there hadn't been any punishment Henry's way, unless this was the punishment. Somehow he doubted that Walter would let him off this easy.

All this aggravation was a blessing in disguise because it managed to cover up any feelings of dread. Henry remembered what Walter said and he realized that Walter would try to force them together. Did that mean what Henry was afraid it meant? Was Walter planning to actually force him one day?

He let out a distraught, humorless laugh. Why wouldn't he be? Nothing stopped Walter from killing. What would stop him from rape? Walter had no limits when it came to wrongdoing. He had proven that time and again.

Henry would fight him until the very end. If Walter was going to try then Henry could at least make it as difficult as possible for him. He would punch, kick and try to claw out his eyes. Anything to prevent him.

The door opened. Henry snapped his head in its direction, words caught in his throat. To his relief and surprise, it wasn't Walter. At least, not the Walter he had been dreading.

Little Walter was staring down at the floor when he came in. He dared to look up, showing a guilty expression. Henry blinked.

"Hey," he greeted kindly, "Is everything alright?"

Little Walter paused a moment before walking up to where he was perched on his bed. The boy sat next to him. His small hands fiddled with themselves.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"What didn't you mean to do?" Henry asked.

Little Walter looked up at him with his sad eyes.

"I went to Eileen after I was mad at you. I told her that you liked Josh more than me. I didn't know Big Walter was listening in, honest."

So that was how Walter found out. Henry knew that Little Walter must be guilt ridden by now. He offered a hand on his shoulder and Little Walter looked hopeful.

"I didn't know you felt that way. I don't like Josh more than you," Henry informed.

"But you've been hanging out with him and Alex ever since you met them. Then you don't hang out with me at all."

Little Walter had been jealous? Henry didn't think that the boy sought out his company so much so that jealousy was an issue. He smiled, feeling flattered. This was the version of Walter he could love. Not the maniac hanging out in his living room he was convinced was a part of his mother.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel like that. Do you want to play something now?"

"I left my toys in the living room but-" the boy trailed off.

"It's okay. I know Big Walter's out there. We'll just ignore him and play."

With that plan in mind, Henry walked with the young boy. True enough the murderer was seated at the coach, though he made no indication that he noticed their arrival. Little Walter grabbed his toy train and Henry did what he could to keep him amused.

Finally, the boy was tuckered out and went to Henry's room to take a nap. Henry moved to the front door and Walter came up and followed like he had been doing since yesterday.

Henry knocked on Eileen's door in hopes that she had returned. After several seconds of not hearing any movement from the other side, Henry knew that he was officially alone with Walter.

He turned to the man, disgruntled at his company. Walter had his arms crossed and a sad yet angry frown was forming across his lips. His arms untangled themselves and rested near his sides.

"So what now?" he asked in curiosity.

"I would like to be left alone for a while."

"I know," nothing else was said. Henry figured that was as much of a decline from Walter as anything.

"Is there a way I can be by myself without you following me?"

Walter paused in thought.

"Tell me who."

"I can't."

"Why?" there was a dangerous edge creeping through his killer's voice.

Henry closed his eyes and counted backwards from three. A tantrum was going to happen soon, he could just feel it.

"You'll kill him."

Walter's hands slammed on the wall, encompassing Henry's head. The photographer leaned away as Walter had him pinned to the wall. If Henry tried to duck and free himself, Walter would no doubt kick at him. The blonde kicked like a champion as Henry had been unfortunate enough to learn.

When Walter's head neared toward his own, Henry instinctively pressed his lips together. But Walter wasn't going to force a kiss like he had originally thought. Instead, Walter glared at him and whispered in his ear.

"Why do you think you have a right to withhold information from me? When you belong to me?"

Henry felt his hands tighten into fists. This only seemed to amuse the now smirking Sullivan. He pressed their foreheads together.

"Just tell me," he continued, "Tell me who it is and I will not hurt you. Tell me and you can avoid punishment."

Walter didn't see the fist connecting with his jaw until it was too late. The killer spiraled to the ground. Without thinking, Henry darted off to find solace for a short while. At least until Walter cooled after being hit.

But Walter wasn't going to let him go without a fight. He picked himself up and fired a gun he had kept hidden in his coat. A searing white pain flashed through Henry's leg, the pain making him unable to run as quickly. He fought on and limped his way toward the stairs. Walter caught up shortly and pushed him down the steps. Henry fell hard on his shoulder, his leg crying in agony and his head was even hurting now to top it all off.

He heard Walter walking down the steps at a leisurely pace. Walter stopped in front of him and delivered a decisive kick. Henry grunted in pain. This wasn't earning Walter any points in his favor but considering he was planning on forcing a relationship anyway, Henry figured he didn't think that mattered.

"That was very foolish of you, Receiver."

"Go to hell."

"Why are you so hard? Don't deny that you belong to me. Even after death you still insist on fighting, but why? There is nothing left for you."

"You're telling me to give up."

It wasn't a question but sounded instead like an accusation. It was the closest Henry had ever gotten to blaming Walter for his death. Walter didn't appear to care that Henry was so pissed at him.

"Of course that's exactly what I'm saying, Receiver. It would make things so much easier. Now tell me who that living being is."

His only answer was silenced.

Alex's P.O.V.

Nordic left at his request and Alex informed Carl that he would be out doing some errands. That way, Esmond wouldn't wonder too much where he was nor guess that he took Nordic's evening shift.

He thought up several possible excuses to give Esmond in case he got caught. Once his mind singled in on one he deemed acceptable, Alex began locking up the museum for the first time based on the instructions Nordic left him. Now all he had to do was wait.

If he could catch Esmond doing something illegal, he could fight Esmond's dirty scheme with blackmail. He didn't blame on smooching off him but he hoped to work him for time to move out, as well as the job he still had. It was devious but Alex was willing to sink a bit low in order to keep Josh by his side.

He hung out inside the break room, drinking a Coke while he waited for Esmond to show up with whatever friends he has been hanging out with.

Outside the room, he heard footsteps entering from the main entrance. He was glad that Esmond didn't stop to check where Nordic was. Otherwise, he would have had to use up that excuse. He heard Esmond talking it up with somebody and then they left.

That wasn't good. Alex wanted to hear what they were saying. He crept with all his stealth to where he figured they gone. The room with all the ancient bones. From around the corner, he could make out Nordic's description of a shady character. They were dressed from head to toe, with even their face covered up by a warm mask as if it was snowing outside. One spoke to Esmond in a deep voice.

"Our Lord sent us on a quest for more funding. You can help?"

"Of course," Esmond smiled in a way that seemed a bit strained. It actually made Alex happy to see such a dissatisfied expression on his ex's face, "For your new orphanage, correct?"

"That is correct, Mr. Anderson. A new Wish House is needed, as I'm sure you'll remember. Our Lord needs more young minds to mold so the world can have more cleansers like our prized Walter Sullivan."

His words brought a chill to Alex's spine. He couldn't afford to look any further without risking being spotted, so he could only guess what Esmond was looking like now. His ex had moved out of his line of sight as he paced the floor.

"I can give you a hundred thousand today. Would that suffice?"

There was a murmur of whispers between the weird strangers.

"Yes, Mr. Anderson. We are grateful for all your generous donations."

What was Esmond up to? And what did he get from all this? Alex didn't find out that night, as all that happened was faux pleasant conversation and the exchange of money.