A/N: There will not be any smut or anything in this fic. This will be more of a shounen-ai than a hardcore yaoi fic. That's not to say there won't be some adult things mentioned in this fic which is why I rated it for safety.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the OC's.

Henry's P.O.V.

A woman walked across the street with her seeing eye dog. A young boy on a bicycle. A middle-aged man arguing with whom Henry presumed was his girlfriend. Daily life flashed before him. Ignoring him.

Unable to see him.

Henry looked at his hand without thinking. If he squinted hard enough, he would notice the flesh being subtly translucent, a terrible reminder of his failure to escape his nightmare alive. Walter Sullivan had succeeded in his ritual of the 21 Sacraments and he managed to do so because of Henry's carelessness. Now Henry's ghost was earthbound and unable to move on.

At least Henry could walk out of the apartments and look around. Well, during the day he could. For some reason, when the sun set Henry would black out and wake up in his haunted apartment. The first time he experienced this phenomenon, he tried to leave the apartment again while it was still dark. But the chains, the stupid chains, were on his front door. They would automatically disappear when the sun rose the next day.

Henry wanted to ask Walter why he and the rest of the victims couldn't leave permanently. But not even Henry, who was the least afraid of the mass murderer, was willing to confront him. The ghosts see their killer from time to time but never say anything to him. Henry thought once or twice about striking up a conversation, if even to make a situation less awkward but at the last second he remembered Walter's victorious laugh as Henry died and then the twenty-first victim would end up saying nothing to him. Henry had no idea if Walter was actually talking to his mother but Walter seemed to think that the ritual worked. At least he was happy, Henry thought with scorn.

When Henry felt a light tap on his shoulder he knew it must have been another ghost. Living beings go right through him like air. Henry turned around and noted Cynthia. There were a few small things to be thankful about death. Now that Henry was a ghost too, Cynthia looked to him more like her old former-ghost self. She was no longer crawling on the ground with hair that seemed to be alive. She looked almost normal, except that her arms had some scars that for some reason never left. Henry himself had a reasonable size gash across his face. He was self-conscious about it but Eileen told him that it made him look oddly handsome.

"Hey," Henry greeted, his voice thick from disuse. Even when he had been alive he barely spoke to anyone.

Cynthia smiled at him and nodded her head.

"Hey yourself. Checking out the men here too?"

Henry coughed. She somehow found out one of his deepest secrets. But instead of rejecting him or tossing him aside like other people did in Henry's life, Cynthia fully supported his homosexuality. She said she always wanted a gay friend. She never mentioned anything else about a 'special favor' once she figured it out.

Cynthia was giving him a mischievous smirk as if she caught him trying to steal a cookie from a cookie jar. She and Henry had become close over the months that they been dead. And the Latino woman was always willing to push his buttons with light-hearted humor.

"There aren't that many men here I can check out. He," Henry pointed to the man arguing with the woman, "Is probably already taken and he," pointing to the kid, "might be a little young for me."

"Someone new moved into these apartments and he is absolutely stunning," Cynthia had a big, dreamy smile on her face, "You're quite a looker too. If you two got together, all my fantasies would come true."

Henry had gotten used to Cynthia's suggestive sense of humor (she was joking, right?) so he didn't react to what was just said. The brunette male suddenly shook his head sadly.

"He probably won't even notice me," he cracked a smile.

Cynthia stared at him stunned.

"No way. Was that a joke? I'm rubbing off on you."

Henry chuckled. It was so refreshing that Cynthia would joke around with him as if they hadn't had been murdered by someone who insisted an apartment room was his mother. Other than Eileen, there was no other ghost that Henry was really that close with. Little Walter, the title they gave to the apparition of Walter's childhood, would sometimes want to play with him for some reason. Henry was always hesitant but would give in anyway. He was never good with children but Little Walter seemed to like having him as his play buddy. Henry found out that they both loved cars and any other moving vehicle. It almost made Henry want to ask Big Murdering Walter if he liked cars.

Cynthia stretched her arms across her head and yawned.

"But I understand where you're coming from. Unless you find someone with a sixth sense, you're going to have to settle for another ghost."

Henry felt his eye twitch. Somehow he didn't think that would be a good idea. Besides, what were the odds of any of them being both his type and gay? He always secretly thought Richard handsome but he had a sneaky suspicion that the man was straight as a nail. And besides, Henry didn't have much of a crush on him anymore, not after seeing how terribly he treated Little Walter. Henry's thinking was simple. If you were worse with kids than Henry was, then you're doing something wrong.

Jasper wasn't his type either. Henry definitely had no interest in Andrew, not because of his weight but strictly because Henry didn't think he was a very good man. When looking at Andrew, Henry could almost sympathize with Walter.

Walter. Did he even have a sexual orientation? Henry had a feeling that the blonde was too obsessed with his mother to ever care for romance. Henry mentally shook his head. Why was he even thinking about his murderer's sexuality? Being a ghost gave him a lot of free time and most of it he spent thinking of weird situations and possibilities. Do the Twin Victims eat? Does Jasper ever get cold? Which ghost is that one that keeps moaning to him every time Henry tries to call a number? Things like that he would contemplate all the time.

"I think it might be too late for me," Henry murmured more to himself than her.

Cynthia gave him a pointed look.

"Don't be like that. Look over there! It's the guy I was talking about. The cute, new one."

She pointed over Henry's head. Henry gave her an awkward smile and turned to look. His unbeating heart gave a pause. The man really was handsome. He was with a little boy carrying a small Robbie Rabbit backpack. The older man had a strong hold on the young boy's hand as if he was afraid something would pop out of the ground and take the child away from him. The child did not seem to appreciate this concern.

"Alex," whined the boy, "Why do I have to go to school here?"

The man named Alex (Henry found he quite liked that name. Alex) turned to the young boy.

"Don't start this again, Josh. I already told you that we need to rebuild our lives here. Which means you have to go to school and I have to find a job."

Rebuild their lives? Henry thought for a moment what that might mean. It seemed that they been through something that made them leave their previous home. But whatever it was couldn't possibly be anything worse than what Henry went through.

He reprimanded himself. No need to go around feeling sorry for himself right now. The two living beings were walking away to where the stop sign was for the bus. Alex turned to Josh and handed him a paper bag.

"It's your lunch. Try to make a friend today, alright?"

"I miss Joey," Josh pouted.

Alex looked about ready to say something but he held it in at the last second. The school bus appeared before them and the boy named Josh went inside. The deed done, Alex started walking toward the nearby library. Henry guessed that he didn't have a computer at home so he was going to use theirs in order to look for a job.

This Josh kid looked too old to be Alex's son. If he was then he was surely born when Alex was a teenager. Henry had a good feeling that Alex was a few years younger than him.

The handsome, living man walked towards his direction. Henry nearly gulped. Those lips looked so…

No no no no. Now was not the time to start getting a crush. Especially on someone who was alive. Henry knew that this wasn't a good idea. And yet as Alex walked through his spirit, Henry almost envisioned the other male entering inside him in a different way. Henry felt himself getting close to having a big embarrassing blush on his face (and something even more humiliating down somewhere else). He was expecting Cynthia to notice and crack a joke. But she was oddly silent, causing Henry to look at her. He was caught off guard by the surprised look on her face. She was staring at a distance where the bus disappeared to.

"Cynthia?"

The dead woman turned to her friend with a look that silently asked 'Did you see that?' There was nothing strange about the boy that Henry had noticed but it seemed that she found something odd.

"What's wrong?" Henry pressed.

"The boy. Josh," she stammered.

"What about him?"

This time Cynthia shook her head with a smile.

"It must be my imagination but it looked like that boy knew we were here. I mean, he was looking at us with a strange expression."

Henry didn't know what to say to that. He took a moment to think of something that wouldn't offend her.

"He was probably just staring into space. I don't think he's anything like Little Walter."

The last thing that this town needed was two little boys with some sort of haunted ghost sense. Cynthia nodded her head.

"Right. Not like Little Walter," she repeated.

"Speaking of the darling," a sing-song voice rang out.

The two looked at the newcomer who was hovering down in front of them. She was another of Walter's victims and a middle aged lady. Mrs. Blake. That was her name right? Henry would have loved to have met her when she was alive. She was awfully sweet but could be stern when needed to be.

Henry believed she was a housewife before she died. She never did much damage to him when he was alive and running from her. And he noticed that she always looked hesitant when attacking as if some spell was coming over her dead body and she wouldn't have hurt a fly if it wasn't for Walter. Maybe she didn't do that much damage because she was resisting and restraining herself?

Mrs. Blake drifted until she was standing right in front of Henry.

"Little Walter has been screaming for you for some time," she told him, "And I'm afraid it's getting a bit ugly. I don't mean to rush anyone but I think the dear needs some comfort."

Uh oh. Whenever Little Walter threw a fit, Big Walter would get stressed and might even throw his own version of a fit as well. And his fits were much more dangerous. Mrs. Blake gave the information in a calm manner but Henry could sense the danger in this situation. They didn't need Big Walter to take his rage out on another unfortunate soul and have another murder on their hands.

Henry rushed back to the apartment. For some reason, he couldn't fly. But he could run very fast. He was at Ashfield in two short minutes. The complex had been abandoned ever since his death. Mr. Sunderland had been killed and no one wanted to take over the place. Henry had seen plenty of daring teenagers trying to go inside the haunted apartment. But, like Cynthia said, unless you had some sort of sixth sense (or really, really bad luck like Henry did) then you wouldn't be able to see any of the ghosts.

The dead man rushed up to the third floor. Little Walter was almost always with his 'mother' in room 302. He had a feeling that the boy was in there now. His suspicions were confirmed when a loud wailing reached his ears. Henry made his way down the hall, not too startled to see Big Walter right outside the door with an angry look on his face. He must have cornered poor Jasper because the seventeenth victim was being held in a chokehold by him.

"Do something about this," Walter growled at Jasper.

"Henry! Where's Henry?" the young voice from beyond the door called.

"Shut up!" Big Walter screamed.

Jasper gulped.

"We we we we we h-h-had s-s-s-someone go g-get him," he stammered. His stammering never ceased even after death.

"I'm here!" Henry called.

The two looked at him coming closer, Jasper with a look of relief and Walter with an unreadable expression. Henry and Walter only ever spoke to each other when the murderer's child side was a concern.

Big Walter let go of Jasper and the Source victim took the opportunity to fly away. Henry rushed passed Big Walter in order to go inside the room. He noticed Little Walter immediately. Tears were streaming down his red face. Henry crouched down and the boy wasted no time in getting closer.

"What's wrong?" he asked the child.

Little Walter started sobbing in his chest. Henry waited patiently for him to come up for air.

"They took my toy train!" he screamed.

"Who?" Henry asked in shock.

"Some boys," thankfully, Little Walter was starting to speak more quietly.

It wasn't unusual for living beings to be able to see both versions of Walters. Henry assumed that the Assumption got extra special privileges of being visible when they wanted to be. Henry smoothed out Little Walter's hair.

"We'll get it back," he assured him, "What did the boys look like?"

"One had red hair and glasses. Another was fat and big. Another had a hat," came the response.

Henry was startled when Big Walter's baritone voice came from behind him.

"They couldn't have gotten far. I'm sure they go to that nearby school, assuming they haven't already drop out."

Henry felt a bit powerless in this position so he stood up. Now eye level with the man, Henry felt a little bit better about arguing with him.

"Could I…handle this myself?"

Well 'arguing' in a sense of pleading with him.

Walter looked at him with those normal dead eyes. Henry always had the hardest time figuring out what his killer was thinking. The man in the blue coat tilted his head.

"Handle it yourself? Why? What can you do?"

Henry bit his bottom lip and thought for a moment.

"Well, I think it would be better if I handled it. You might…kill them."

Big Walter crossed his arms and gave Henry almost a smug look.

"And that's a problem why?"

Henry had to think up something fast.

"I'm sure I can handle the boys. Teach them a lesson without having them be killed," that was what came out of his mouth. Fortunately, it appeared to have worked as Henry noted the spark of interest shine in his killer's eyes.

"Are you sure? You might be too soft on them. You are rather weak."

This fueled enough anger inside Henry to retort.

"I wasn't too soft on you."

Big Walter frowned when he saw the challenge in Henry's eyes. Little Walter giggled softly behind him, trying not to be heard by his adult self. Walter could still hurt Henry even though Henry was dead. In this fucked up other world it didn't matter if you were dead or not. You could still feel pain.

Despite this, Henry wasn't afraid to challenge him from time to time. And it seemed to infuriate the Assumption that Henry wasn't always begging and pleading with him. Maybe it gave him some sort of power trip, Henry mused. No other ghost had the nerve to speak out to Walter as often as Henry did.

The blonde suddenly looked amused.

"Alright. Then teach them a lesson. Let's see what you can do, Receiver."

It was a challenge that Henry was more than willing to accept. Little Walter grabbed his pant leg.

"Don't forget my toy," he insisted.

"Of course I won't, little guy," Henry said affectionately. There was always a strange look in Big Walter's eyes whenever he saw Henry show love to Little Walter. But Henry could never quite read what emotion it was. It wasn't anger. It sort of seemed happy and sad at the same time. Henry would just ignore the looks.

A few hours later Henry was waiting for his prey. They should be coming out fairly soon. They wouldn't like the little scare he had planned for them but at least they wouldn't be killed.

The photographer saw three boys fitting Little Walter's description perfectly. They looked to be about Little Walter's age and one of them (the big one) was holding Walter's beloved toy train. Time to make his move. Henry followed them down the sidewalk, making sure no one else was around to witness this.

He grabbed the toy. Since it was partly a manifestation of the other world, Henry could hold onto it without much trouble or concentration. And the best part was the boys noticed the toy being taken from their hands. But Henry knew that they didn't see him. In their eyes it was like the toy train was flying all by itself. One of them yelled in terror and the rest soon copied his example. They ran away as if there lives depended on it.

The task done, Henry hid behind the bush so no one else would see the floating train. All he had to do was wait. He felt the train warming in his hand. That was its way of telling him that living beings could no longer see it. Being held by a ghost made it part of the dead world completely.

Satisfied that he could carry it without gaining attention, Henry stood up and walked away, intending to backtrack straight to room 302. But seeing someone made him pause. It was the boy named Josh.

Henry knew he still had time before night came. And something in his chest begged to see Alex again. The photographer followed Josh all the way to his apartment. These apartments, Butterfly Grounds, were not very far away from Ashfield Heights. Henry found it quite convenient that his crush lived so close by.

Josh went upstairs to the second floor, pausing at room 205. He entered without a key and closed the door immediately. Henry went through the wall easily, the train going through with him since he was holding on to it. Henry took in the new surroundings. It was obvious that the two had just moved in here. There were still plenty of opened packages and things for them to go through and sort out.

At the table was Alex drinking a tall glass of water. He was frowning in defeat and Henry could only guess that he hadn't had a very successful day. Josh placed his backpack on a nearby couch and sat down next to Alex.

"How was school today?" Alex asked the young boy.

"Fine."

The answer was short and lacking in any emotion. Henry watched Alex get up and rummage through the pantry. His dead heart sank when he noticed that the two had very little to eat. Alex took out a box of mac and cheese.

"I'll get dinner started."

Josh laid his head on his hand with a pout. Alex took no notice of it. Either that or he was feverishly ignoring the look. In a few minutes both boys were sitting down to an unimpressive sized dinner. Henry knew that they must be short on cash. He prayed Alex would be able to find a decent job soon.

The phone suddenly rang. It startled everyone, Henry included. Alex picked up with a tired 'hello.' The living man paused as his eyes widened in shock. His jaw fell to the floor. Now Josh was glancing at him in concern.

"Esmond? How did you get this number?" he asked in a voice loud enough for it to sound like a demand.

Henry could hear sly chuckling on the other end. Whoever this Esmond was was saying something back but Henry couldn't make out the words. Now even Josh looked surprised.

"Esmond Anderson? Your old boyfriend? What's he want?" he asked.

Alex glared but not at Josh. Perhaps he was imagining this Esmond in front of him and glaring at the spot he envisioned the man would be in.

"What do you want?" Alex repeated the question to the caller. There was a moment's pause before Alex responded.

"I wouldn't be interested in anything like that. No. No, I don't want to work for you. I…But…Now you're…How much?" Alex's strong resolve was crumbling, "How will I know if….Really. Well. Okay fine. Yes, I'll be there tomorrow. Okay, thank you."

Henry was at a loss when Alex hung up and he could tell that Josh was as well.

"What happened?" asked Josh.

Alex placed the phone down and rubbed his temples tiredly.

"He offered me a job. And I took it."

"What! Why? He's such a stalker."

Stalker? The word made Henry cringed. He had a stalker once and ended up not surviving the encounter. He knew how dangerous people like that could be. Henry didn't know why or how but he wanted to protect Alex. Something about the man called to Henry in a way that no one was able to before.

Alex offered a reassuring smile that appeared to be more of a grimace.

"It's okay, lil bro. He promised he wouldn't do anything."

"And you believed him?"

"He says he's getting married anyway. Odds are that he's over his infatuation with me. Besides, the pay he offered was too good to pass up. We can actually start dining out if we wanted to."

This seemed to win Josh over a little bit but the small boy did still appear unconvinced. He looked in Henry's direction with a blank look on his face. He stared for so long that Henry nearly wondered if Cynthia wasn't just imagining things this morning. Alex gave his brother an amuse smile.

"Looking at your imaginary friend?" he teased though-oddly-there was a tinge of worry in his voice.

Josh yawned. The simple yawn made Henry realize how late it had gotten. Before he could look outside to see if it was about to get dark, he felt his spirit being pulled back to his old apartment. It was like a transition in a dream. Henry barely felt the changes. He noticed he was now sitting down on the couch in front of the t.v. There was some sort of cartoon on. Little Walter came up to him and Henry gave him back the toy. Little Walter.

"Thank you, Henry!"

"You're welcome," he told him.

The photographer looked around for any sign of Big Walter. The man was oddly absent. He was usually here with his 'mother' at night. Little Walter sensed the question in Henry's head.

"He said he had to do something real quick. He'll be back soon."

Henry nodded and felt a yawn coming. Even ghosts need sleep and Henry felt like he would have nice dreams tonight thinking about Alex. He bid the child in the room good night and went to his room.

TBC