tampered | Log; Ongoing

When; Monday night
Rating; PG-13 at the most. Just in case.
Characters; Alessa

wisdom_rcvr
Summary; Henry's head hurts, and Alessa goes to relieve his pain.
Log;

Building 11, Apartment 302. This is where he said she'd find him. She stood in front of the door of Henry's apartment, gazing at it intently. Aparment 302. How ironic. Even in death, the past still haunted them...all of them. Even now, the Room refused to let its grip on the Wisdom Reciever lessen. Well, Alessa would take care of that.

You will not have him, she thought to the Room. He is not yours to have or keep. You will let him go. There was no reply, and she did not expect one. It was going to be tricky, she knew. Henry was slowly falling into madness and she did not blame him nor was she surprised. But she would help his head. She would give him relief from the pain, just as Lisa was forever changing her bandages and doing all she could to ensure Alessa was comfortable.

Alessa touched the doorknob and willed it to open, not bothering to knock. The door gave, somewhat reluctantly, and she found herself in an apartment that looked eerily similar to the Room, to the mother that Walter adored so dearly and could not remember. She felt a twinge of jealousy at that thought, but shoved it aside, closing the door behind her. The air was filled with an unknown tension and menace, that a normal person wouldn't be able to place. But she knew the feeling well.

'Henry? Reciever, where are you?' She called out, surveying her surroundings curiously as she waited for Henry to come out from wherever it was he was hiding.

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He was curled up in a ball on the floor of the hallway, the only place he'd never seen the cracks on the wall. He'd seen that little doll standing there every once in awhile, but he didn't pay any attention to that. That was good, it was a good doll. It was a symbol of kindness, at the very least.

His fingers were buried in his hair and his laptop was sitting to the right of him, unwatched since Alessa said she was coming. When he heard her call from the front door, he answered back in a warbly tone. It's almost as if he'd forgotten how to speak. "...Moth- Alessa? 'm in the hallway...be out in a second..." He attempted to uncurl and stand, but only got as far as being on his knees and leaning against the wall.

Alessa heard his voice and could sense his pain and confusion. She moved towards it, entering the small hallway. There were cracks on all of the walls, and a peculiar sinking sensation filled her stomach. Holes. The holes are starting to come back. Shit, she cursed silently. She would need to get Henry out of there before any of them truly formed. It would only lead to trouble.

She approached the young man slowly, taking in his condition. His laptop sat on the floor nearby, its luminescent glow casting an odd light in the place. A child's discarded doll stood nearby, and her eyes narrowed at it. This is interesting.

The wall Henry leaned against had no cracks, and she appraised the Wisdom Reciever's logic to stay near it. 'I am here, Henry,' she murmured. 'Now tell me. What ails you? I will heal it.' She knelt in front of him so he could see her, and focus on her face. Having him lapse into a mad fit would only make things more difficult, and she silently willed him with her telekinesis to focus on her, and thus keep him somewhat calm.

He dropped his head down when she asked him what was wrong, as if the words to answer her were on the floor somehow. After some searching, he says, "You're helping already...my thoughts, I couldn't keep them straight. I keep hearing...hearing things. And every new thing claws its way in, so it hurts..."

He closes his eyes, then cringes. "It's been like this since I got here, but it's been a lot worse since...since Walter showed up. When I sleep, it's crawling around in my brain. I'm so tired..."

He did look tired, Alessa had to admit. There were dark circles under his eyes, his clothes looked the worse for the wear, and his hair was starting to get greasy from not having taken a shower in awhile.

'Since Walter showed up...?' She mused aloud. Of course. It makes sense that the Wisdom Reciever would start gaining knowledge while he is around...they are, after all, bound by the 21 Sacraments... she thought. Yes, that's it. He can't control the information that he's recieving and doesn't know how to handle it.

Alessa reached out and placed her hands on Henry's cheeks. 'I will make you better now,' she told him, leaning forward to press her lips against his forehead. She sent her telekinesis into his mind, and was startled at the jumbled, disorganized mess she found within. Slowly, she began peicing it all together one by one, changing a few things here and there so he would understand it better.

She spoke to him softly with her mind, determined to keep him calm while she organized things inside. She knew he must be scared; after all, someone getting into your head was not very pleasant. I am here, child...Mother is here, Mother won't leave you. Relax, do not fight it, she thought to him. Henry had taken to calling her Mother, which she could only assume was because she was the Mother of God. And if he called her Mother, then by God, she would do what she could to be that for him.

His face relaxes as she sets things straight- it was scary, at first. But she knew what she was doing, and it was less horrible than what he'd felt before. Besides, it was so easy just to let go and let her take care of it- he'd been hurting so badly that he didn't really care what it was she messed with anymore.

He was very confused by her, but he knew she was the Mother of God. And between her words and what had been creeping into her skull, it somehow cemented that title into his head. He didn't think of her as Alessa, just as 'Mom'.

He opened his eyes slightly, but they were glazed over, seeing someplace far away from here. He slowly fell back until he was sitting on his knees, and tilted his head up to turn those glazed eyes on her. He wanted to say Thank you, it's so much clearer. I think I might be okay now that I understand. But all that escaped his lips was a happy sigh.

'There, see?' she pulled away from him, and smiled. 'All better. You should write down the things in your head; it will help keep them organized. If it ever gets that bad again, you know where to find me.' The sudden feeling of compassion welled up in her chest, and she swallowed, not used to such a positive emotion. I suppose I should get used to it....I need to take care of my own, she thought to herself.

'Sleep, Henry...and dream of pleasant things,' she whispered, reaching out with her mind to put the impression of happy thoughts in his head. Just one thought was all it would take. His brain would automatically recall happy things and keep them on his mind. 'Good night.'

She began to tread back down the hallway, her brow furrowed at the sight of the cracks. You aren't going to give him up without a fight, I know, she thought to the Room. But the Wisdom Reciever is his own master, and you will not have him. She didn't know how long his calm would last, but tonight, at least, he would be at peace.

He didn't have many happy thoughts left- he's not sure quite how or why they left, although he suspects Walter had something to do with it. But most of his life before he moved to the apartment in South Ashfield Heights was just gone. His most vivid memories were always of visiting Silent Hill- everything else was a vague mishmash of things that could be his life, or could just as easily be something he saw on TV once.

However, with Alessa's help, he thought about the lake and how beautiful it was sometimes. Toluca was almost always shrouded in mist- he could always get good pictures there, even so. He let the fog obscure everything in his head and smiled back towards Alessa. "Thanks, Mom," he said in barely a whisper.

Then crawled back towards his room at the back of the hallway. He kicked the laptop shut- it's a miracle that he made it back to the bed. But if he was finally going to sleep well, it should be in someplace comfortable. He let the quiet overtake him and the memory of her words soothe him into sleep.

Log; Ongoing

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