"How did you croak Kieren Walker?" Amy knew, she could see it in the way he said relief, could see it in the slope of his shoulders and quiet demeanor. It still didn't prepare her for when he pulled up each of his sleeves to reveal a vertical slash up each wrist, the torn edges held together by staples. She knew if her tear ducts worked she would already have tears rolling down her cheeks, but the dead cannot cry, no matter how tight her throat feels and how her body tries to produce tears that just aren't there.
"Why?" She asks, voice cracking around the word. What she means, though, is oh beautiful one, what did life do to you? When she hugs him it's fierce and protective. A promise to protect this gentle, kind soul, to not let the world touch him like that again. For Kieren Walker may not know it yet, but he will be Amy's best friend, and she makes sure her best friends are happy and safe and loved. She wants to ask him what happened, wants to know what weighed so heavily on him, wants to know if there's anyone she can be angry at for helping to snuff out the light that Kieren is. But then the door is opening and they're pulling apart and Amy can only wonder. What she knows and believes with a solid conviction, is that she is so grateful for the Rising. She is grateful that she got a second chance to meet this wonderful person that her first life deprived her of.