Kate had requested the results be sent to her office as opposed to his residence, and three days later she made herself resist the urge to rip them open as soon as they made their way into her tiny hands. She decided she would wait until Henry was in the room to open them, not entirely prepared herself for what the results might be. Either way, they wouldn't bode well for him. Despite all that, she was still anxious to see said results.

Needless to say, she was extremely happy when he finally showed up. "You're three minutes late," she informed him before holding up the folder. "Your results came in."

"What did they say?"

"I dunno, I haven't read them yet."

"What? Why?" he wondered as she tore them open.

She shrugged. "I wanted to wait until you were here. Plus, to be honest, I was scared to see the results. ... Jeez, I sound like my sister-in-law over those pregnancy tests," she muttered to herself, glancing up from behind the papers as his ears turned a little red. She returned to skimming them over with a slight chuckle, then sighed quietly before setting them down. "Well, good news and bad news. Which would you like first?"

"... Good, I guess."

"No tumor."

He couldn't help but grin, which surprised her. Grinning like an idiot was way out of character, judging from what little time she'd known Henry. "That's great news! ... What's the bad news?"

"Now I have to take your account seriously," she muttered, forehead cradled against her palm as she groaned as quietly as she could manage. "This whole situation lacks concrete evidence, and the only logical notion going for it is that Walter's grave was, indeed, empty. And now I'm gonna have to take you to the police to tell them your story – after you tell it to me in full, of course, since you were my responsibility first – and it's gonna be huge news, and then it's gonna be this insanely long investigation that'll in all likelihood drag a ton of names through the mud – yours included, and my mom will be calling me every single day for 'inside news', and..." she trailed off, realizing she probably sounded like a self-centered bitch at best.

She sat up, clearing her throat before grinning at him. "Although it's great to know there's nothing seriously wrong with you!" she added with a more genuine smile of relief. "You know what? None of the other stuff matters, as long as you're tumor-free and, for all intents and purposes, mentally stable. I'll deal with the rest, I'm just whining to whine. Psychiatrists need an ear every now and then, too." He didn't seem to buy it, but smiled anyway to be polite. She sighed once more before getting up – notepad and pen in her hand for the first time during their sessions – and dragging her wheelie chair in front of him again, plopping into it.

"I, um... Okay, let's be honest, I have no idea where to begin now. So how about… You start by telling me about the people you saw Sullivan murder," she suggested, taking the cap off her pen and looking up at him. "That way I can find more on this."

He had paled at the very mention of the victims, but talked anyway. "Well... First was Cynthia."

"Right, I think you mentioned her before. What happened to her?"

"She, um... She had been trapped by Walter inside a subway car. I'd gotten her out, but we got separated at one point and... So I went back to get her, but h-he'd gotten to her first. ... He stabbed her to death. She thought the whole thing was just a dream, but I was the only one who woke up," he muttered, getting quieter and quieter.

Kate nodded, writing it down diligently; her tone, however, was incredibly gentle – a sharp contrast to her generally brash temperament. "I know this is hard, but I have to know how they died and who they were. There were others, right?" she asked, hoping he'd open up like he had the last time. Not just for the police report she had a feeling she'd have to eventually file, but to get to the bottom of just what exactly was traumatizing him the most. If she found that out, she could help him work through it; he still had a mental problem, and she was still going to do everything in her power to fix it.

He nodded at her, looking down at his hands. "Yes. Three others."

"Who was next?"

"Next was, uh, Jasper. I had given him some chocolate milk – he apparently loved it – and then I found this key to a room... When I went in there, Jasper was on fire. He carved the number onto himself, and then he… Just died right there."

"So he was... Immolated? And there was no one else in the room, from what I got out of that... So he might have done it himself," she offered, and he nodded his agreement.

"Okay, then who?"

"Andrew. When I got there, he was in a prison cell. After turning some valves and making rooms move, he was freed, but... He was terrified. He... He ran off and when I found him again, he had been drowned. ... Well, it looked that way, but there was blood in the water. ... I guess from where Walter had carved the number, but I-I don't know. God, the room smelled terrible... And then my bathtub did too..."

"Your bathtub, back in 302? Why?"

"When I woke up, there was blood all over it," he answered, his voice starting to tremble. "It smelled so terrible..."

"... And the last person?" she asked hesitantly, pen hovering above her notepad.

"... Richard. Richard Braintree."

"Braintree?"

"Yes. He was a neighbor of mine. I went into his room and he was strapped into an electric chair... I tried to help him, but I nearly fried myself in the process. I couldn't get him free... So I had to watch him die. ... And after him, it was just me and Eileen," he said quickly. She noticed when he'd talked about trying to help him, he had tucked his left hand closer to himself. Kate assumed he had a mark there, or at least that was where he got burned. Still a very sensitive topic, but then again, why wouldn't it be?

Then she processed the last part of his explanation. "... Who's Eileen? I thought you said there were only four victims?"

"There were. Eileen and I survived, but Walter had put her in the hospital first."

"Why haven't you told me about Eileen? Is she still in the hospital or something?" she asked suspiciously, noticing he got a little uncomfortable upon mentioning her.

"No, last I heard, she was fine. ... She moved to Chicago about a month ago," he explained.

"Do you still keep in touch?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Well, that's good. So you and her were the lucky ones," she commented, eyeing him carefully and hoping he'd respond.

Sure enough, he made eye contact with her once again, something he was only prone to doing when he felt a surge of emotion (for him, anyway). Typically negative. "Lucky? ... Not hardly."

She nodded. "Do you feel guilty? Y'know, having survived when… Those four didn't?"

"... Yes, of course I do. I would think anyone would. I don't… I don't feel as guilty as I did right after it was all over. I just... Kept thinking that if I had done one or two little things differently, maybe it wouldn't have ended the way it did: with four innocent people dead."

Kate put the cap back on her pen, crossing her legs. "I'll be honest with you, Henry. It's my personal opinion that life's full of those moments in time; very small snippets that we miss, and they impact our lives in the strangest ways – good or bad. … But things happened the way they did for a reason. And even if it wasn't for a reason, it's already happened. Those people are already dead, and you're one of the survivors. Wrong place, wrong time. It's just the way things work. Only thing you can do is move past it and do your best to accept it."

He nodded. "... For the most part, I have. But now that the dreams are back..."

She raised her eyebrows as he trailed off before clearing her throat. "What exactly are these dreams about?"

Henry paled, looking even worse than when he'd been describing the victims' deaths. This time he looked almost… Afraid.

"... They're nightmares," he muttered.

"... Can you tell me what they're about? I know this is hard, I warned you that I'd have to ask tough questions," she added, making her voice as soothing as possible while putting her pen down for the moment.

"Well, sometimes I have dreams and other times I have them during... Y'know, the day. Sometimes with my eyes open. And they're very real-looking, very vivid," he explained lamely.

"So... Hallucinations?" she asked, making him sigh in defeat. He probably realized how crazy that sounded, but Kate was willing to take most of his claims at face value if it helped her get to the bottom of things.

"... Yes. Hallucinations."

"Okay. Tell me about the dreams first."

"Well, the dreams are usually about this... Really foggy town. I'll wake up in random spots, but it's always foggy. And... This one time, I woke up by a lake. I think it's Toluca Lake, so if that's the case, it's Silent Hill."

Kate perked up, looking back up at him. "Silent Hill? Three towns over?"

He nodded. "Yeah. ... You've been there, too?"

"My family used to live there, but we moved when I was real young. Wasn't old enough to remember it, just my brother always mentioning how much it sucked and that he was a New Yorker all the way," she said simply.

Henry chuckled – which took her by pleasant surprise, because she couldn't really remember ever hearing him come close to laughing in her presence. "I've taken a few photos there. The town itself was very... Peaceful the last time I saw it. Outside of my dreams, that is. ... But inside my dreams, there's... Monsters again. Some of them I recognize, but the rest..."

Oh, that's right. He mentioned monsters along with that hole in his wall, didn't he? ...Okay, that sounded bizarre even in my head.

"... And what about the hallucinations?" she asked, deciding to save the subject of monsters for another session.

"... They're all about Walter."

"What happens?"

"Well, sometimes he's chasing me – like he did back then. Other times, he... He just tortures me."

"Was that why you screamed like that a few days ago? You looked pretty shaken up," she added, the concern in her voice obvious.

He hesitantly nodded. "... Yes. He had cut my legs off while I was getting the MRI. And then you walked in, and... Never mind," he muttered.

"No, wait, I made a guest appearance in this hallucination? Is that what you're telling me?"

"N – Well, yes. You... You ran in after hearing me scream, and... He went after you too," he muttered in an even quieter voice than before.

"... He killed me. He cut your legs off, I ran in, and then he killed me," she stated in slight disbelief.

"... Well, he cut the second leg off after he slit your throat, but –"

"He slit my throat? So I just laid there gurgling and twitching before becoming utterly motionless?" she clarified with a tone that suggested she was actually mildly offended by this sort of demise. He looked up at her with surprise.

"Y-Yes, that's exactly what you did! How did you know?"

"I'm a doctor, Henry, I know what happens when someone's throat is cut. Well... So you said Walter's always in them?" she asked, deciding sidestepping her appearance in this dream was the best course of action. Although she had to wonder if that stench – that heavy, offensive odor she had caught a whiff of upon running in to check on him… Was it really…?

"Yes. It's either him or the little boy version of him."

Her head shot up at that, making him jump a little. "Little boy?" she asked, and he nodded slowly in confirmation – now it was his brows that began to furrow.

That little boy...

She'd been hearing doors slamming and a small pair of feet running around the building (mostly right past her door) ever since that night, and it was really doing a number on her nerves. She'd been doing her best to leave work early to avoid the disturbances, but it generally did little good.

"Yes, there was a... Younger version of him I kept seeing. Whenever he showed up, it was almost always right before Walter claimed another victim," he explained carefully. "Except for when Richard was dying... The younger Walter was in the room with him, and suddenly he pointed to a window and just... Vanished. Into thin air. That's... How I knew Eileen was in trouble, just like the rest."

Kate felt a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. "What, er… What did he look like?"

"Uh... Dirty-blond hair, bright eyes... Striped shirt and grey pants, his hair's really short..."

The boy...The one Norm couldn't see! No, no, that's just... Surely there're tons of boys with that description.

She felt Henry staring at her as the blood drained from her face. "Doctor, are you alright?"

She waved him off with a laugh. "Fine, I'm fine! Just... Feelin' a little sick. Probably drank too much coffee on an empty stomach, that's all." Before anything else could be said, Melissa opened her door, making them both jump.

"Doctor Roberts, Mrs. Cox is here for her twelve-thirty," she announced, glancing at Henry before shutting the door.

They both stood up, and Kate flashed a smile. "We'll talk more about it next session, alright? Take it easy," she muttered, using her chair as an excuse to turn her back to him so he couldn't see the fear slowly inching its way onto her features.

"... Right. You too."

KNOCK-KNOCK.

"Come on in," Kate called out distractedly, reading over Bob's file as she typically did in her free time; although it was true Henry Townshend occupied a great deal of her time, for obvious reasons, Bob was ever so enigmatic himself.

Melissa poked her head in. "I just wanted to tell you I was leaving early for the night. Everything's filed and scheduled like you asked."

Kate nodded, glancing up to smile at her. "Alright. Tomorrow?"

"Actually, I heard Denise might come back tomorrow, so... We'll see," she said cheerfully. Kate nodded again, and Melissa shut the door before suddenly opening it again. "I'd leave soon if I were you. Looks like there's finally an actual storm coming, it's horrible-looking outside."

"Yeah, I'm about to head home," Kate agreed.

"Do you want me to wait for you? I don't mind."

"No, it's alright. Go on home. You said your daughter had a game tonight, right? She needs you there more than I need you here."

"– Ah, right, you remembered... Thank you. Good thing it's indoors, by the look of that sky... Night, Doctor."

"Night. – Oh, and in case today was your last day… I'd love to have you as a temp again."

Kate sighed once Melissa had gone, standing up and opening the blinds – pleased with the broad smile that had spread onto the blonde's features as she took her leave. She blinked in surprise; thanks to the parking lot lights, she could see the wind was strong enough to bend the trees a good deal, and it was sprinkling already. By the looks of things, it wouldn't be long before it started pouring.

After a few minutes – yes, minutes – of debating, she decided she'd rather go home and take a nice hot shower instead of camping out in her office for the night. Kate gathered her things before heading for the elevator, noticing with slight unease that she was once again among the last to leave the building. Her floor, at least, was pretty much deserted, a few offices with lights still on here and there.

She heard a door slam, reminding her of what Henry had mentioned about the little boy, and she started repeatedly pressing the down button.

Finally, the elevator arrived, and she sighed in relief as she practically jumped inside. She pressed the lobby's button before backing up and leaning against the back wall. "I am so tired... Shit—!" she exclaimed after opening her eyes only to see the little boy in the far left corner of the elevator. "I-It's you again!" she accused, pointing at him. He jumped a little, and she winced. "Sorry. ... I hear you, you know. You keep running around and slamming doors, don't you?"

He just blinked at her, and she sighed. "Are you hanging around me 'cause I'm trying to help Henry? Is that it?"

He blinked again, but smiled a little. It looked pretty creepy, actually, but maybe it was just because she was very aware that she might be talking to a younger version of Walter Sullivan.

However that made sense...

"Do you talk? ... Or are you just trying to frustrate me," she asked, her voice gaining an edge to it.

He just stared at her. "I know who you are, you know. You're a younger version of Walter. Aren't you?" This time, he moved closer. She backed up into the wall again, afraid despite herself. He grabbed hold of her coat's sleeve with one tiny hand, just staring up at her.

That's when she lost it.

"What? What? Whadda you want from me, huh?! Why are you doing all this? You're the one making all those noises, I just know it! Do you have any idea how scary that is in the middle of the night? What's keeping you here, and what do you want from me of all people?!" she demanded to know.

He let go of her and backed away, looking fearful again as she glared down at him. The elevator doors opened, and she glanced over to see a random businessman step inside. She realized the elevator had stopped on the third floor, and when she turned back to where the little boy had been – surprise, surprise – he was gone again.

She let out a heavy sigh, making the man chuckle. "Long day for you too, huh?"

"You have no idea."

Kate practically ran to her car, not liking the way that thunder was rumbling. The whole way home she was on edge, shaking a little. What did that kid want, anyways? Could it really, possibly be Walter Sullivan from the past? "All I know is that I need alcohol for this," she muttered, pulling into her complex and sighing with relief upon noticing the couple was nowhere to be seen – or heard, rather. She then noticed she was home earlier than usual, meaning she'd probably hear their bickering within minutes. "All the more reason to fix a good drink," she remarked with a heavy exhale, bounding up the stairs.

Kate unlocked her door, slamming it shut before locking it and taking off clothes as she headed for the bathroom. She turned on the water before grabbing a towel and hanging it across the shower curtain. … She then sighed exasperatedly upon realizing she'd hung up her bra instead of the towel, and replaced the one with the other before grabbing her sky blue robe from her room.

Kate took great pleasure in drinking a tall glass of coconut rum mixed generously with orange juice as she waited for the water to heat up, and was sad once it was gone. "Bah, you can always get more after your shower," she reminded herself, undeniably happy. She hadn't even reached buzz-level yet, which she couldn't wait to get to after the past few days. She bathed and shampooed, and had been about to run conditioner through her moderately tame locks when she heard thudding noises.

"... What the hell?" she wondered, conditioner forgotten. She strained to hear, hoping the couple hadn't already started fighting and getting physical with it.

No, this sounded like it was inside her apartment.

Unnerved after already seeing the boy again today, Kate immediately got out of the shower, leaving the water running in case there was in fact an intruder. If there was, she didn't want them aware that she was done with her shower. Kate dried her body off quickly, shoving stray, soaked locks out of her eyes as she hurriedly put her robe on – tying the sash as tight as possible.

Good God, she hoped she was just paranoid. Having her apartment broken into had always been one of her biggest fears, living alone in a moderately-active city; but come on, that had to be high on everybody's list of fears. She slowly opened the door, relieved when it didn't creak.

She didn't see anything, nor did she hear the thumping anymore. In fact, there was utter silence to a deafening degree; it almost made her want to clear her throat, hum quietly, anything to fill that oppressive silence. Still a bit frightened, she edged out into the hallway and to her room, grabbing the bat she housed under her bed for just such an occasion. She had just sat up on her knees after practically crawling under there for it when she saw the little boy on the other side of her bed, staring at her with wide eyes. Kate screamed, staggering to her feet. "Leave me alone!" she shouted, whirling around towards the door. While darting through the hallway, she froze dead in her tracks after noticing a figure in the bathroom.

A tall man in a long blood-spotted coat was walking towards the shower, and Kate's hand flew to her mouth as she resisted the urge to scream.

No fucking way. No, this isn't real. That's not who I think it is... What the hell am I still doing here? I've gotta get out of here...!

He gripped the shower curtain, and she quietly crept down the hall for the door leading out of her apartment. She didn't get far when she heard the footsteps leaving the bathroom, and she broke into a run. Something – though it was pretty obvious what – grabbed her by the ankle, and she hit the ground hard. She flipped onto her back to see a man matching Henry's description of Walter dragging her towards him. "No! Leave me alone, both of you! Please don't, no! Get off me!" she screamed, kicking blindly, hands searching for anything she could use as a weapon.

Her bat had flown out of her reach when he'd grabbed her, so she settled for the next best thing – a bar stool. She threw it at his face, and he took the brunt of the force with his shoulder; she might as well have thrown a plastic cup at him. Kate screamed even louder, scratching at his arms and any other part of him she could reach as he and his knife enacted similar treatment. The stench of blood and some horrible underlying odor was overwhelming her, neither of those scents a result of her own injuries, increasing her fear and desperation – there was a ferocity to her screams and scratches that only fear of death could provide.

She landed a kick to his groin, and he went down just long enough for her to lurch back onto her feet, bolting for the door despite her stumbles. Kate fumbled with the lock and deadbolt, her screams unfiltered and bloodcurdling, crying out even sharper with relief when she finally got it open. The couple outside had stopped fighting temporarily, staring at her as if she were crazy.

"Don't just stand there! He fucking tried to kill me!" she shouted, completely hysterical now.

"Estás loca," the Latino woman advised the man, who waved her off in an "I can handle this" sort of way.

"Uh, miss, there's... No one there," he said somewhat gently (which, considering her only basis for his name was "Filthy bastard" was quite surprising), pointing towards her apartment. Are you on crack? That's all you can say? Even if you don't see anyone, you should – ...

Kate slowly turned around, seeing the same thing they did: an empty apartment, the door in the process of slowly swinging back into its resting position. The woman asked for her status in broken English, both she and her boyfriend finally taking notice of Kate's disheveled appearance and the welts forming along her hands, her arms, but the frightened doctor just slammed the door shut and backed towards the stairs.

"Should we call the cops?"

"I'll be fine. ... Don't go in there," she said simply, running down the stairs and to her car. If Walter had been a hallucination, like the younger version, calling the cops wouldn't do much good.

It wasn't until she got there that she realized her car keys were inside, and she whimpered a little despite herself. I can't go back in there... Either he wasn't real, or... He could've just hidden in a room or something, just waiting for me to come back. And even if he's none of the above, I... No... I... I can't be alone right now, she thought miserably, trying her best not to start sobbing all over again.

The couple had resumed their stupid argument like nothing had happened, and Kate let one soft cry of exasperation escape as the bottom dropped out and rain came down in sheets. She needed to get somewhere, and fast. But without a car, her options were limited. She didn't feel like hunting down a bus stop, either. It occurred to her that Henry was the closest and most viable option, not to mention there was no question of whether or not he would be home at present; he himself had admitted to his reclusive tendencies. Then again, Kate supposed he was the only person she could really go to anyway. No one else would believe her. Sure, she could just say there was an intruder in her apartment that tried to kill her, but...

She ignored the stares of a couple people milling around the apartment complex the same way she'd ignored the stares of passersby on the way here. If she remembered correctly – a miracle in itself, considering she could barely feel most of her body at the moment from the shock and exhaustion – Henry lived on the fourth floor, sixth door on the right.

Not trusting an elevator, she bounded up the first flight of stairs, but beyond that it was all she could do to keep walking. Her bare feet stung with each step, and she nearly fell up the stairs after slipping in a particularly muddy puddle. Kate tried to walk her usual brisk pace to his door, re-tying her robe as she went, and more-or-less succeeded with both. She knocked three timid knocks on the door, suddenly feeling nervous. However, in the time it took for him to answer the door – she ended up knocking six more times, each more desperate than the last, though it probably only took about forty seconds for him to get there – she had grown more and more fearful as the reality finally sunk in:

She'd just been chased out of her own apartment by possible hallucinations that had tried to attack her.

And when Henry opened the door, she just completely lost whatever sense of composure she had left. Kate let out a strange noise caught between a sob and a sigh of relief, leaning into his frame with such force that he stumbled backward. "I didn't know where else to go, you were the closest within walking distance, and – oh God," she moaned, shaking with sobs.

"What the... hell? D-Doctor Roberts?" he exclaimed, obviously stunned. She nodded, clinging to him as if her life depended on it.

"Y-Yeah. I... I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to – I don't... I can't..."

"What... What happened to you?" he asked, standing there awkwardly as she continued to bury her face in his shoulder.

"My apartment. I saw him – both of him – them – whatever the hell he is, he was there–!"

"... Who? Did someone hurt you?" he asked, genuinely concerned now that the initial shock of her being there in the first place was out of his system.

"... It was Walter. I'm sure of it. He was so... He – you described him perfectly... Oh my God, he tried to kill me, I didn't know where to go and my apartment was... and I... You were the closest," she repeated, sobbing even harder. Henry finally patted her back, about to wrap an arm around her when she finally got a hold of herself and pulled away.

"I-I'm sorry about that, I'm just really shaken up right now," she admitted, trying to stop crying. She hated when she was upset to the point of tears, as it took a great deal of effort for her to stop – and eventually the hiccups would come.

He nodded, directing her towards a couch. "It's alright. Sit down, I'll go get you a blanket or something."

Her whole body was shaking as she slowly sat down. "Tha... Thank you."

Henry made a beeline towards his room, still in disbelief. Walter... attacked her? That makes no sense. What with the Sacraments over, she'd be of no use to him whatsoever. The hell is going on here?

He grabbed a spare blanket off his bed, slowly heading back to the emotional wreck that was his psychiatrist. Is this some kind of mind trick? Is she trying to test me? ... No, there's no way. She's too stunned for this to be fake – that, or she deserves an Academy Award.

As if to prove his point, he was slightly unnerved now that he got a full look at her. She was utterly ragged and wide-eyed, her hair and robe disheveled with parts of the robe looking torn; what wasn't torn was clinging to her, both her body and the material soaked through and through. There were cuts of varying lengths, most of them tiny, on the tops of her hands and all over her legs, and her lower lip was swollen. There was a trickle of dried blood running from it, down her chin, but he could only assume much of the blood from her injuries had been washed off with the downpour. Her eyes were red and swollen, likely from all the crying. Not to mention her whole frame would jolt with her hiccups as she tried to remain as calm as possible, although the forced neutrality of her face only made her seem all the more shaken.

She most definitely didn't do all that herself, that much was obvious. Doctor Roberts glanced up at him as he came back within her view, and he handed her the blanket. "Here you go."

"Thank you," she muttered again, draping it around her shaking frame. That was another thing – she was trembling almost violently. Most definitely in shock.

"I... Don't want to upset you, but... Do you mind telling me what happened?" he asked carefully. She nodded as her gaze darted toward the ground, and he couldn't help but wonder if this was how he looked to her whenever she asked him the same exact question. Aside from the assault she'd taken, Henry imagined he looked as vulnerable and uncomfortable as she did.

"I-I was taking a shower when I heard these thudding noises, and... I got out to see what was making the noise. ... I didn't see anything, so I went to my room to grab a bat just in case, and... The little boy was in there. By my bed. I ra—I ran out and Walter was… He was in my bathroom, looking for me. I tried to get away, but he grabbed me by the ankle and I hit the floor and I..." she trailed off, shaking her head and whimpering a little.

"... I got away, but when I… But when I looked back inside, they were both gone," she concluded weakly, glancing at him before looking back down at the ground and wiping at her right eye.

Henry stared at her, trying to process what she was saying. "You... Mentioned a little boy. You've seen him before?"

The doctor nodded. "Yes. He was in my office building. He was running around, and I chased after him but... If what Norm said was true, no one else can see him. ... Oh God... I really am hallucinating, and I'm the psychiatrist here...!" She suddenly looked up at him, and her expression was one of pure terror. "What the hell's happening?" she asked almost hysterically, breaking off into sobs again – and consequently turning her head to the side and muffling them into her arm as if embarrassed by the sounds.

Henry shot to his feet, wanting to do something to help but not knowing what to do. "Do you have... Any relatives you need to call?"

She shook her head, managing to respond between gasps and hiccups. "No, my... My brother lives in Philly, and my parents are all the way across town. I... You were closest, and I left my car keys in the apartment. A-And what would I say? I just got fucking attacked by a hallucination!" she exclaimed, burying her face in her hands.

Henry felt absolutely miserable on her behalf, not used to dealing with upset women – which was sort of ironic, considering all that had happened to him over the course of a few months. Even now, seeing her like this and hearing her recount the incident… He couldn't help but think of Eileen and her own encounter with Walter. Having seen her near death firsthand, Doctor Roberts was lucky to come out of it with mostly emotional injury – not that it diminished her understandable fear. He settled with squeezing her shoulder; that seemed to work, as it at least got her to look up at him and reach a slow stopping point in her sobs.

"You can stay here for the night. ... I'll go check your apartment tomorrow."

She smiled weakly at him, wiping at her eyes again before wincing and glancing down at herself. "Thanks, Henry. ... Damn. I thought I had gotten out of there without any damage," she muttered.

"... You should really go see a doctor to make sure that's the only damage you've got. I can take you right now, if you want."

She shook her head. "I-I'm fine, just... Really shaken up, more than anything. I'll go tomorrow."

"I can still take you," he suggested, and she nodded.

"I'd appreciate that."

"Do you, er... If... If you need some clothes to sleep in, you..."

She cut him off by smiling and nodding. "Thanks yet again. Clothes are probably a good idea, you're already looking flustered enough as it is," she commented.

Well, looks like the shock's worn off a little, he noted with relief at the return of her usual demeanor – not very sturdy, but it was there. All he did was nod and walk right back to his room. "I'll be right back, Doctor, just try and calm down some more."

She nodded again. "Kate. You can call me Kate, now that I've invited myself into your apartment," she insisted with a halfhearted laugh.

Henry couldn't help but feel even more relieved when he heard her sniffle and mutter "Where the hell does he keep the alcohol...? This is an emergency..."