Alex's P.O.V.

Henry didn't come that day or the day after that. Alex had a sinking feeling that his killer was keeping close enough tabs on him to be classified as stalking. That was a feeling Alex could certainly relate to as Esmond made it a point to be around almost all the time. If Alex was doing dishes, Esmond would come up with a hug and kiss that would make Alex cringe. If Alex was in the bathroom, Esmond would be right outside waiting for him. The only time Alex ever had any peace was at work.

Josh gave him a sad look whenever their eyes met but the boy was silent as long as Esmond was around. Since Alex couldn't find away for him to leave him the fuck alone before Josh's bedtime, it didn't seem likely that he would talk to Alex for a while. Esmond took no notice of the sympathetic glances that Josh sent his brother's way.

Carl was almost just as bad. It seemed he was ready to jump on board the threesome bandwagon (as if Alex hadn't been disgusted enough) and would act as kind of a 50's housewife toward him. He would cook his lunch everyday and then make dinner. Luckily Alex was able to convince him to let him handle his breakfast by himself. He was so annoyed with Carl insisting on cooking that it gotten to the point where poptarts tasted better than homemade lasagna. Carl also tended to clean up for Alex, as Alex would come home to the west wing and find it spotless. Even the screen on his television remained shiny as new, like Carl made it a habit of polishing it everyday.

As if things weren't bad enough, Esmond was right to say that he wasn't a patient man. Alex was worried how much longer he could possibly stall for. Esmond's clinginess might have amplified after his dealing with those creeps of the Order. What was he doing donating to them to get another Wish House? He should know about the rumors of the terrible things they did to those children. Before Alex didn't think he could possibly be more disgusted with Esmond but he had been proven wrong.

There was a hand draping itself over his shoulder but he pretended it wasn't there, instead focusing all his attention on the television.

Josh was lying down on the floor in front of them, waving his legs to and fro and casting a concerned glance Alex's way every now and then. He was watching some cartoon about a snake and Alex was trying to pay more attention to it than Esmond's hand. He was succeeding for the most part, until Esmond brought his lips to Alex's ear.

"Are you almost ready?"

Alex wanted to ask what he meant but he knew already. And Esmond knew that he knew. Knowing Esmond would get angry if he played dumb, Alex decided to see how long he could stall for.

"I'm not sure. What about after the wedding?"

Maybe getting hitched officially would change Esmond for the better. But who was he kidding?

"I think you're stalling," Esmond said bitterly.

"I'm just not ready."

"Tell me when you'll be. Give me sometime sooner."

"A couple of weeks?"

"Try again."

The hard lump in his throat slid into his heart, weighing it down and sinking it into the pit of his stomach. Josh didn't notice the two talking but Alex had a feeling he had an inkling as to what was going on.

"A week."

"Tonight."

"Three days."

There was silence then. Three days wasn't nearly enough for Alex. An eternity wasn't long enough for Alex, actually. But he had found himself cornered. He only hoped that Esmond wouldn't haggle for anytime sooner.

The blonde twitched his lips lopsidedly, not happy but still considering the proposal.

"Alright. Three days it is. But when the time comes, I expect your full cooperation."

Alex felt the words caught in his throat so he silently nodded without speaking. He then looked at the television but not even this snake named Craig could help him forget the deal he made with that devil.

Henry's P.O.V.

He woke up to the harshness of the morning light, wincing like it was from Heaven and he was an abomination meant for it to destroy. Sad though it was, he woke up everyday thinking like this. But fortunately, once his head cleared from sleep, he could pretend the thought never crossed his mind.

Walter was in the other room. He didn't sleep or at least, not to Henry's knowledge. The maniac was always awake when Henry went to bed and still alert when he woke up. It could be that he just required less sleep but Henry wasn't so sure about that. It seemed more likely that one of the Assumption's many advantages over the other ghosts was the ability to stay up 24/7. No matter what time of the day it was Walter was never tired or sleepy.

He must be standing close by the room so that Henry wouldn't even be able to go to the bathroom without having to see him. Not that Henry ever needed to use the bathroom anymore but it would've been nice to think that he could go to a whole other room without drawing the killer's attention. This new form of stalking made Henry crave any form of peace that he could get. He just sat on his bed for the next hour, knowing that Walter was still there, until he grew bored and decided enough was enough.

With a heavy sigh, he left the room. The pain from yesterday was already gone. It seemed as though ghosts recovered quickly, which would make sense considering that after beating them to the ground it was not a second later that they were already back up and ready to fight once more. They caused so many problems while Henry was still alive.

Walter was not on the chair this time. Henry was shocked to see that the killer had his back turned to the stove in the small kitchen area, moving about like he was cooking something. There was a familiar scent in the air and for the first time since he could remember, Henry felt like eating.

The smell was something he had learned to cherish since he was a small boy, when his mother was still alive and cooking for him. This smell was his comfort after spending hours at work in the yard in the dead of winter, when all the other kids his age were able to play out in the snow. This was the smell that Henry had learned to associate with his mother even as an adult. The irony that it was the mother-obsessed Walter Sullivan at the stove didn't escape his notice either.

Walter turned around, his expression showing that he had known Henry was there already. Henry gave him a questioning glance. Before either could say anything, Little Walter came in, smelled the food and smiled.

"That's grilled cheese!" he exclaimed.

Hearing the boy's excitement almost made Henry tremble with pleasure. He knew that Little Walter grew up in very poor conditions. Also (though Henry tried to avoid thinking this), Little Walter's so-called 'guardians' were so evil that it was highly likely that the boy unknowingly ate his friends. Throughout his adventure in the other worlds, it became apparent to Henry why the boy would grow up to be such a disturbed man.

Big Walter didn't seem surprised by Little Walter suddenly coming in. Nor did he seem to care either. Almost comically slowly, Walter turned his head back to Henry's direction, dead eyes seemed different somehow. Almost they were sparkling in joy for accomplishing something. In that moment, Henry forgot all about how cruelly the man had treated him the day before.

Little Walter came up closer to his older counterpart. He tried to tiptoe to inspect the food, not bothering to ask why in the world Walter would make food that he couldn't eat. It was up to Henry to ask.

"Why are you cooking?"

Henry had tried to eat as a ghost before for no other reason than to feel normal. Hunger hadn't plagued his stomach in forever, so he knew there was no need for him to eat. When Henry took a bite of an apple he found abandoned by some people at the park, his gag reflex immediately forced it back out. There was nothing wrong with the apple, as Henry learned later on. The reason he couldn't eat was that as a ghost, he was unable to. Like some higher being was denying that ability to him ever since he died.

Yet somehow, Henry had a feeling that if he were to eat this sandwich (was Walter even going to offer it?) he wouldn't have any problem eating the entire thing. What was even stranger was how much he wanted to eat right now. He was getting used to having an aversion to food, so this newfound eagerness to devour something seemed out of the ordinary.

"Mother told me to apologize," Walter said like it was the most sensible response in the world.

Little Walter made a gasp.

"Uh oh. What did you do, Big Walter?" the boy was smiling at the thought of a grown-up getting into trouble.

The playful tone was able to prevent any anger from the killer. The elder Walter brought out a plate with towering sandwiches and placed them on the counter. Finally, he pulled his attention away from Henry.

"I got into a fight with the Receiver."

Little Walter stared at Henry questionably. Instead of speaking, Henry grabbed a sandwich and gave it to the boy, since Little Walter was too short to reach it on his own. Much to Henry's surprise, Big Walter got a sandwich for himself and took a bite. He had never, even seen the man eat before.

Henry stood awkwardly. He wanted to ask if he could have one when Little Walter spoke up.

"Aren't you going to eat, Henry?"

Big Walter stared at him. Part of Henry really wanted to sink his teeth into the melted cheese and grilled bread but another wasn't completely trusting of Walter. Still, seeing the killer eat his own food eased Henry somewhat. He grabbed a sandwich and took a bite with relish. The bread on the sandwich had just the amount of butter Henry's mother would've used. In fact, everything about the sandwich reminded Henry of his mother's cooking. The way there were two slices of American cheese instead of simply one, the way the bread tasted like the Wonderbread brand she would use and the three strips of grilled marks on either side of the sandwich.

If Henry didn't know better, he would think that Walter knew about his mother. But he and Walter never met before their encounter in the other worlds and Walter no doubt saw him for the first time when Henry foolishly decided to live in the apartment he would later die in.

Little Walter finished his sandwich first. He took a hold of Henry's hand just as the photographer finished his last bite.

"I want to play in the park," the boy said, tugging.

Henry looked at Big Walter with a feeling of dread. He was sure that the killer would follow but would he make himself known to living beings? As if he asked the question out loud, Walter answered his question.

"I will not let others see me."

That managed to satisfy Henry enough to get him to agree. They quickly made their way outside and for a second Henry imagined what people would think of them if they could see them. Two adult males and a young boy going to the park. They would probably assume Big Walter and he were related and were in charge of the boy. Some might have mistaken them to be a couple instead, however, and Henry felt uneasy about that. At least they couldn't be seen and were safe from any speculation.

Little Walter rushed to the sandbox and began digging a hole with his hands. Meanwhile, Henry sat down on the bench as a means to rest. He nearly jumped back up when Walter took a spot next to him. The killer leaned his arms on the head of the bench, one looking like it wanted to wrap Henry's head and bring it closer to Walter's chest. Henry felt his throat go dry and decided to ask while the boy was preoccupied.

"Are you really going to try to," Henry paused to think of the right word, "Force me to be with you?"

There was no response for a long while and if Henry didn't know better he would've thought that Walter hadn't heard him. He waited patiently until green eyes finally looked at him.

"Would you be with me willingly?"

Not fair to respond to a question with another question but Henry said nothing about that. Instead, he decided to just humor the man beside him.

"No."

Walter didn't look crushed, or angry or really anything. His face was devoid of any emotion and that made it easier for Henry to tell him the truth.

"Then yes, Receiver. I will force you."

Then does that mean you'll try to rape me? Henry asked in his head. He tried to voice it but fear sealed his lips shut. He didn't want to know what the answer would be.

"I will fight, you know," Henry said, meaning the possible rape.

Walter looked at him with dead eyes slightly cold in anger.

"And what good would that do if you know you can't win?"

"At least I'll have my dignity."

"You mean you'll do it out of pride."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"Your mother would agree with me. She hated all the deadly sins, didn't she?"

Henry jumped out of his seat to glare down at the man left sitting. How dare Walter do some investigating on his life after he already killed him? Or maybe he looked into Henry's life right after he moved into 302. Either way, Walter was already enough of a creep before he revealed this part about him.

Walter sat smugly. He was completely unmoved by Henry's attempts to intimidate.

"So, you're spying on me now? Just because I won't date you? You have no right to tell me about her."

"Spying on you now?" Walter repeated, looking like he was trying to figure out what Henry said, "I've always known everything about you. From the moment you were born, I knew you would be mine."

"That's bullshit. You only decided to claim me as your victim after I was goddamn stupid enough to decide to move into that damn apartment."

Now Walter stood up. He was slightly taller and used that to make a point by glaring down just as Henry had done.

"That damn apartment is my mother."

Henry so wanted to shout how untrue that was but with Little Walter so near, he didn't dare risk the boy hearing him. Little Walter was so happy thinking that he finally had a mother and for Henry to say something like that would be pissing all over his happiness.

So Henry instead clenched his fists, trying to steady his breathing so that he could calm down. Walter continued before Henry could think of anything else to say.

"You're wrong, you know."

A bit of the anger burning inside him died down enough for curiosity to set in. Henry stared blankly.

"What about?"

"You're wrong about me only choosing you after you moved in with her. You're wrong to think that your fate was nothing more than circumstance. There was a reason you chose to move in room 302. She called you didn't she?"

"That doesn't-" but Henry stalled when he realized something. The first time he entered the room, he felt at peace for reasons he could never figure out. It was a sense of tranquility that he never felt since his mother's death so long ago.

Walter may be right. But if he was, then he had been stalking Henry from the moment he was born. Henry almost wanted to throw up.

"Why me? What was so special about me?"

It made more sense that Henry was Walter's last victim simply because he chose a bad place to live. The idea that he was chosen as a sacrifice for this unholy ritual made him sick to his stomach. Was he able to throw up now that he had eaten?

"You're an observer of everyone's lives. You're the perfect Receiver of Wisdom."

"I didn't want to see people die."

"That doesn't matter."

Of course Walter wouldn't care what Henry thought.