A/N: Hi, just a few notes before I start this fic: first, I don't own Casper, but I really liked the movie. Second, I know this has been done before; I just wanted to give it my own go. Third, I've decided to try out present tense for a change. Fourth, they're a bit older here

Chapter One: Going Home

Going home without my sorrow, going home some time tomorrow, going home to where it's better than before.

Going home without my burden, going home behind the curtain, going home without the costume that I wore.

~Going Home by Leonard Cohen

He wakes up on a cold floor in a dark room, a skinny boy with blonde hair, a slight tan and blue eyes. The floor below him is solid and his body aches, as though he has been wrenched from it and it has been put back together, molecule-by-molecule, around him. Which, he thinks, it has.

He tries to draw on memories of why he is here, who he is, where he is, anything. Vague images flit before his mind's eye but fade before he can properly grasp at them. He has the memories, he decides, but they are hidden from him, locked away in the back of his mind. Perhaps they will be revealed with time. He hopes this is the case, but all he knows for sure is that it is something different than amnesia.

Realising his body feels stiff, and he has been lying curled up on his side for who-knows-how-long, he opens his eyes and cautiously flattens his palms to the ground, which is not only solid and cold but hard; and looking down at his bare, solidified arms and hands (even though he can barely see in the darkness), a voice in his mind says, It worked.

Something has worked, but he cannot remember what. A procedure, he thinks. Not perfectly, as his memories are almost impossible to call up on his own, but they are there, and the procedure has still worked.

A sudden draft alerts him to the fact that he is not only naked, but cold. And now, more surprised to find that he is cold than to find that he is entirely unclothed, he recalls something: his body feels as though it has been rebuilt around him because, before the procedure – whatever it was – he was a ghost; and his body really has been rebuilt around him.

And, though he can't be sure yet, he thinks he is older. Especially if the fact that his limbs seem to be longer than he remembers is anything to go by.

He tries to remember why he has undergone such a disorienting and uncomfortable procedure, and his mind allows him to recall a girl: a living girl who, if the multiple brief images and words his mind is throwing at him are anything to accurately think of as his memories, he calls Kat.

Yes, that sounds right. He remembers now, a full memory unlike the others, first seeing her on the television and absolutely adoring her; he also remembers a question he has asked her on more than one occasion, but which he cannot remember her answering with anything more coherent than a mumbled "Mhmm" while she fell asleep: Can I keep you?

He realises now that he underwent the procedure for her, to be like her, to be with her. Although currently his memories of her face are a little hazy, he is certain they will soon return with perfect clarity and decides that undergoing a procedure with unpleasant after-aches for Kat is all well and good, but what will be the point if he does not get moving and get back to her?

Pushing himself into a sitting position and feeling out for anything on the floor, he soon comes across a heavy metallic object which feels a lot like a torch. He switches it on and finds a brown duffel bag with a note safety-pinned to it, laying a few feet away from his head. He quickly scrambles over to the bag and carefully tears the note off so that it will still be readable, and then he opens the note and begins to read it by the light of his torch:

If you're reading this – and you should be – then the procedure worked and you've woken up alright on your own. I've aged you up a bit, too, so you'll match Kat's age.

I've moved you to a different location so you won't be disturbed while you get your bearings. You should find everything you need in the bag. You'll need photos for the ID but you can get them at a photo booth. Good luck.

The signature is illegible and the boy does not know if he can remember who helped him with the procedure, but he is grateful to them. He opens the bag, reaches in and finds a drivers' license and a passport bearing the name Casper McFadden. This name rings a bell and it takes absolutely no guesswork to know that the name is his. According to the ID, he is now sixteen.

Withdrawing the identification, Casper also finds a wallet with a bank card in it – he apparently now has a bank account – and a decent sum of money, some of it in change, along with a note telling him that the bank account contains enough money to get him to Friendship, Maine, so he can return to Whipstaff: another name which rings a bell, and he remembers it as his home. The note also instructs him that he can claim his inheritance when he returns.

Removing the wallet as well, he finds what he is looking for: clothes. He quickly dons the boxers and brown trousers, taking his time somewhat more with the white dress shirt, jacket, shoes and socks, trying to see if he remembers how to dress himself. It takes a while, but he manages. Afterward, he searches the rest of the bag and finds little of interest: casual clothes; pyjamas; an azure necktie. He is about to swap into the casual clothes when a reflective surface in the corner of his eye catches his attention. He turns to the left, revealing the surface to be a mirror. He steps up to this, to examine himself.

He cannot remember the last time he saw his own reflection, but Casper McFadden realises he is a handsome young man. Oh, he feels certain there must be some who look better than himself, but – especially in the smart clothes he is already wearing – his looks are substantial, in a natural sort of way. He likes it.

Another memory thrusts itself forward in his mind: Halloween night, four years ago; the last time he looked like this. He was younger then, and only caught a brief glimpse of himself in the mirror; and at ten o'clock he became a ghost again, but more importantly he danced with Kat, something which he made sure to burn into his memory for all of eternity.

Suddenly wanting nothing more to get back to Whipstaff and Kat, Casper McFadden decides not to change into the more casual clothes. Instead he dons the necktie (which, as it turns out, matches his eyes), packs up his belongings into the duffel bag, and leaves.

Kat wakes up early on Saturday morning. This is a common occurrence for her, although it did not used to be. Living in Whipstaff Manor has its up sides and down sides, and things which fall in-between. Living with ghosts is without a doubt one of those things which falls in-between the good and the bad. Especially sharing your bedroom with a ghost because you chose their room as yours without knowing it was already theirs.

However, until recently Kat has been – perhaps the word is not exactly blessed, but lucky is not quite the word either – to have been sharing a bedroom with her best friend, Casper. Despite the facts that he is firstly a boy, and secondly dead, Kat's only real complaint about the sleeping arrangements was that he enjoys early mornings, especially on weekends.

Now, though, Kat gets up early on weekends because she feels closer to Casper when she does. A few months ago, he left, determined to find a way to be alive again (other than the Lazarus, which they promptly destroyed after the incident with Carrigan). She knows that his sudden determination to live again comes from his feelings for her and concern that he cannot be with her if he is not alive; and though she understands his reasoning and agrees with him, she misses Casper frequently and wishes he did not leave, even if she did make him promise to return.

Luckily for her, some habits die hard and she holds steadfastly to the habits and routines she has always fallen into with him.

Shutting off her radio-alarm, she hops out of bed and flings open the French windows, stepping onto the balcony. She breathes the fresh morning air and slight sea breeze in deeply, her long dark hair and lacy Victorian nightdress fluttering around her shoulders and ankles, respectively. At sixteen, most people she knows are probably sleeping in skimpy satin things which barely cover their underwear, but Kat knows Casper always liked her in old-fashioned clothes, maybe out of nostalgia, and anyway she doesn't go for the whole skimpy-show-your-whole-body-off-to-the-world type of outfit unless she's at the beach; and even then if she deems it cold enough she wears a wetsuit.

The cool air helps to wake her up and she takes several deep breaths, missing Casper because of the oppressive silence created by his absence. But she knows he will be back, and she knows he is only gone because he cares so deeply for her. He once was able to temporarily overcome death just to dance with her for a few minutes at Halloween. She has full confidence in him.

Kat's pupils dilate and she becomes lost in memory, staring out across the sea but not actually seeing it.

Casper's forehead bumps against the cold window of the greyhound and he reluctantly wakes up. He is still groggy and has been on the bus since three this afternoon. It must be almost ten now and he knows they will soon stop for an hour, probably at a roadside cafe or a greasy diner, so everyone can eat and stretch their legs before settling down for the night.

If he is honest, he is slightly annoyed at having woken up, but the seat next to him is free so he has a little space. His duffel bag sits next to him and the book he purchased earlier, open on his lap, bounces to the rhythm of the bus' movements as his thumb saves his page.

With his free hand, Casper wipes his eyes sleepily. More of his memories have returned now and he remembers most of his time at Whipstaff Manor, especially time spent with Kat, Dr Harvey, and his uncles. Ah, but he was enjoying dreaming. Things come back to him when he is asleep, memories so clear he wants to reach out and touch them. To stroke Kat's hair or hold her hand; to help Dr Harvey with his work; even to be bullied by his grotesque uncles. And it hurts just a little because he can't. Not yet.

Soon, though.

Nine o'clock Sunday morning finds Casper still on the greyhound, tie removed when he settled down to sleep the night before and jacket in a pile on his lap (he had used it as a blanket and allowed it to slip down when he woke up). His chin is cupped in his palm, his elbow leans on the armrest and he stares at his own reflection for a while, knowing it will take some getting used to. After a while his gaze flicks past his own reflection and toward the scenery, which he is now beginning to recognise. He knows he will be home soon. He checks his watch, wondering if Kat is up yet.

Once in Maine, Casper takes a taxicab to the town of Friendship. His voice sounds normal and his new vocal chords may take some getting used to, but he does not speak in the taxicab, preferring to listen to the radio. Once in Friendship, he collects his things and pays the driver, breathing in the familiar, homely air with relish. He wants to walk up to Whipstaff, as he has not been able to visibly go out in public in what has been literally decades, and besides that, he doubts anybody will willingly drive him there.

It is little after eleven in the morning now, and he walks slowly, taking in the town. How much everything has changed! Everyone he knew as a child will be ancient or dead now, and many of the young children who visited him over the years when he was a ghost are all grown up. In fact, he recognises many of the adults.

One of them is selling flowers, and a thought comes to him. He buys a dozen flowers, the seller looking at him peculiarly (perhaps she recognises his voice?) and he takes the flowers to the cemetery and searches out the graves of his parents and uncles. He stands in respectful silence for a while.

Now he does something he never got to do before: he puts the flowers on his parents' shared grave. Suddenly a bittersweet grief sweeps over him, and he falls to his knees, buries his face in his hands and begins to cry. Sobs wrack his body, but with each violent shake, the pain lessens. His father is dead but at peace, and his mother the same way, and he lets them go. The longing for them which overtakes him at first gradually ebbs away and after a long five, maybe ten minutes, he stands, wipes away the dirt, lovingly caresses the gravestone, and leaves.

He passes through the children's cemetery on the way out and spots his own grave. He freezes in place, stares at it almost like an arachnophobe might stare at a spider. He feels like a time traveller, visiting his own grave. If he were still a ghost, this would feel normal. But he is not. To know that he is under that patch of grass, those wildflowers, in a little wooden coffin; and yet standing right here in a brand new, perfectly healthy body… it disorients him and by the time he is able to carry on walking, he has lost his bearings.

He is growing impatient with himself now. He wants to see Kat and the others again, and there is nothing wrong with wanting to visit his parents' grave, but his detour has cost him his memory of where to go from here, so he spies out the town square and heads for it, hoping to find a map of some sort.

His luck is in. Casper immediately spots a map, pinned to the bulletin board, and begins to study it carefully, hitching up his bag as it threatens to slip down his shoulder.

What a sight he must look. Dishevelled and tired, yet he feels so full of energy. He must look unkempt, with his shirt and trousers rumpled and his hair probably sticking out at all angles, and his jacket tied around his waist. He rakes his fingers through his hair a few times to smooth it down, and continues to study the map.

The layout of the town is still the same, although many shops have changed. He quickly locates the town square and scans the map for the Manor. Just as he finds it, a female voice next to him says:

"Think I can help?"

He turns around, knowing it will not be Kat but not wanting to be impolite. The owner of the voice is a tall blonde, not unattractive, who looks as though she is head of the cheerleaders and gets everything she wants bought for her by stupidly wealthy parents. Rich in money, but not in the actually important things, like a loving family.

Or brains, the same voice from his mind – the one which told him the procedure worked – tells him now, and offers him another memory. This girl is Amber, a girl who frequently bullies Kat and attempted to ruin the Halloween party when they were twelve.

He politely shakes his head in answer to her question and returns to the map to triple-check that he has it right. He does.

"Where are you going?" Amber asks flirtatiously, and Casper is suddenly reminded that his new form is much more attractive and much less scary (to those who don't know him very well) than his previous, ghostly one. "I'm sure I could take you there."

He decides he will allow her a brief answer and then make his escape. He doesn't want this. He just wants to see Kat again.

He is hesitant forming the word, the syllables, which are so familiar but now so foreign-sounding in his new, older voice, but he manages to reply, "Whipstaff."

Amber's jaw visibly drops at the word "Whipstaff" but she quickly regains her composure. "The haunted place?" she asks.

Casper nods.

"The one where that freak Harvey girl lives?"

Casper cringes at Kat being called a freak – he knows her better; she's not a freak, she's wonderful – but nods again. "I'm going to see Kat."

Amber stands reeling somewhat and Casper chooses now to make a quick getaway. He is, thankfully, fast on his feet.

And if nothing else has come of this, he at least knows where he is going now.

Kat and her father, Dr Harvey, sit in the den watching the television. The Ghostly Trio, as they like to call themselves, are off wreaking havoc in some other part of the Manor. Kat perches on the arm of Casper's favourite chair, as if he is still there, sitting in it. He always insisted that she take the actual chair but she is the one who took over the bed when she moved in. And besides, it's his chair. Her father has offered her "counselling" to help her accept Casper's absence but she always declines.

Kat is just considering making lunch – no doubt the Ghostly Trio will want feeding soon anyway – when the doorbell rings. She is about to get up but her father beats her to it.

Every time someone hears the doorbell ring now, even if they are already expecting company, they secretly cross their fingers that it will be Casper, come home early. Not just because they themselves miss him, but also because Kat hit a slump after he left and if anyone can pull her through, he can.

Dr James Harvey secretly worries about his daughter. He knows she is just trying to cope with Casper's absence, and he knows (especially after the death of his wife, Amelia) how difficult it is to shake old habits and routines you have with a person when they are gone, but some of the habits and routines she still follows just don't make sense without Casper there. Like waiting five minutes on an evening before she uses the bathroom, or taking her clothes and towels into the shower with her, even though her bathroom is an en-suite.

Today, as he walks to the door, James Harvey tries not to get his hopes up, but still runs through the checklist in his mind.

Am I expecting anyone? The answer is no.

Is Kat expecting anyone? Most likely no again – she is less sociable in Casper's temporary absence and besides this, she would have said something if she were expecting visitors, because she needs to warn her father to keep the Ghostly Trio out of the Manor so they do not scare anyone.

Are Stretch, Fatso and Stinkie expecting anyone? The notion seems ridiculous; why would ghosts have visitors? But occasionally the ghostly attendants of their parties like to ring the doorbell. Still, the Ghostly Trio always give a couple of days' notice before their parties now, or at least a few hours, so that anyone who does not wish to attend can clear out for a while.

Is it the mailman? No, of course not; it is Sunday and they normally receive any post they get earlier than this, because the mailman likes to get this place out of the way quickly.

Despite his best efforts not to get his hopes up as he approaches the front door, which is now in sight and getting closer fast, James Harvey feels his hopes building up rapidly. He can't think of anyone else it might be, as realtors and door-to-door salespeople tend to avoid Whipstaff like the plague because of its reputation as a haunted house – a reputation which the Ghostly Trio are extremely proud of.

Dr Harvey opens the door to a sixteen-year-old boy carrying a duffle bag. At first nothing particularly strikes James about this boy, except that he is exceedingly good-looking and around Kat's age. Then the boy smiles and greets him, and something about the colour of the boy's eyes, the sound of his voice and the particular way he smiles, the always-happy smile, causes James to smile too.

Because it is Casper. He's lived with the kid for four years. He'd recognise him anywhere. Kat would, too.

"Casper," James says, thrilled to meet the kid again. They share a grin for a moment before James steps aside to let Casper in.

"You did it," James can't help but say. "How?"

Casper's brow creases slightly in thought. "I'm trying to remember," he says. "It was a procedure, but it wasn't perfect, because I can remember some things and there are others I can't, but it'll come back to me eventually."

Dr Harvey has so many questions, but he does not ask them just yet. Casper has just returned home. He will want to know that everything is okay.

He does, of course. Casper is more than pleased to see Dr Harvey again, and has dozens of questions of his own. How is Dr Harvey? How is Kat? How are his uncles? Have they learned to serve themselves without him? Has he missed anything good while he was gone?

Casper bombards Dr Harvey with these questions and many more, and Dr Harvey answers them smoothly. Everyone is fine, his uncles are only somewhat self-sufficient, and then only when everyone else is busy, and little of interest has actually happened over the last few months other than Kat getting a Saturday job and learning how to drive. Oh, and a truly remarkable trick pulled by the Ghostly Trio on some kids who'd intended to prank the house.

"It's about lunchtime," Dr Harvey says, as they continue to stand in the entrance hall. "Would you like to join us?"

"Yes please," Casper says gratefully. He is starving, not having actually eaten much since the dinner-stop last night other than a Hershey's bar and a bag of potato chips he bought on the way back to the greyhound.

As they turn toward the kitchen, he hears the door of the den open and close, and then Kat says, "Dad? Who was at the door?" and steps into view.

Casper's breath – which is something he has gotten used to quicker than everything else about his new body – is immediately gone and his heartbeat – something a little stranger for him – goes through the roof. Dressed in a thin sweater and a pair of loose jeans, her hair dishevelled and brushed behind her ears to keep it away from her face, she is more stunning than he remembered.

And then suddenly she spots him, and she recognises him. He sees her pause, mouth his name, and abruptly grin from ear to ear and run to him, bare feet slipping and sliding just a little on the floor as he drops his duffle bag and she launches herself into his open arms.

He wraps his arms around her body, now smaller than his own, and oh, it feels so good to be able to hold her, to feel her warm body against his own, her heartbeat against his chest, their breathing in sync, so he holds her as close as he can and he breathes her in, so deep, just like she told him she used to do with her mother.

And she smells amazing.

Kat gives his frame one final squeeze and lets go, looking up at him, taking in his new appearance. He waits patiently for her to say something, and when she speaks, she says, "You're older than last time you were alive."

"So are you," he replies, and she exhales as though she is laughing and smiles, hugging him again.

They go to the kitchen for lunch and hearing his uncles already in there, he hangs back; but then Kat takes his hand gently and leads him into the room anyway. Immediately they are hit by a barrage of catcalls and some things slightly more vulgar than whistling, which only stop when Stretch stares hard, tilts his head, squints and recognises Casper.

"Hey, Glow-worm," Uncle Stretch says, "what happened to you?"

Casper grins.

"Hey, looks like someone got himself a new body," Fatso says, finally catching on.

"Yeah, with good personal hygiene and everything," Stinkie mocks.

Casper's grin widens. He is having the time of his (new) life.

Lunch is heaven, especially after the greasy diner food he ate last night. Real food, not just something to keep him from starving but something to really enjoy. Real food and good company.

Kat… another chance at life… and surrounded by his family… he has everything he's ever wanted; the few things he's truly yearned for, even when he was alive the first time.

Apart from a dog.

After lunch, Casper is perfectly content to just sit in the den and spend some quality time with the others, most likely sharing his seat with Kat, but Dr Harvey thinks he should go straight to city hall and collect his inheritance. Kat tells Dr Harvey that no, he shouldn't do that yet, he's had a long journey and needs some rest. Casper smiles at her gratefully and, when they are in the den and she perches like always on the arm of their seat, he leans his head against her shoulder, closing his eyes contentedly and smiling when he hears her sigh.

"I missed you so much," he tells her quietly, pulling her closer so that she is actually on the edge of the seat's arm. Any closer and she will literally fall straight onto his lap.

"Me too," she tells him gently. "Every day."

"Kat?"

"Uh-huh?"

He places one hand on her head (his bare skin brushes her silky hair and he just loves that he doesn't go straight through her anymore) and guides her gently closer again, so that her ear is less than an inch away from his lips, and he whispers, "Can I keep you?"

He sees another smile grow across her face – her whole face – it begins at her eyes and lips and gradually begins to infect the rest of her face until she is absolutely beaming with happiness; and in answer to his question she turns around and kisses him.

Just a short kiss, but good enough for him, and hopefully the first (second, counting the one at the Halloween party when they were twelve) of very many. Not a particularly passionate or lustful kiss, either, but it still causes the part of his brain which processes coherent thought to shut down completely and he is reduced to a love-struck gaze with a goofy grin to match. She has never answered the question directly, but he will continue to ask it until she does – especially if this is the result.

"I'm glad you got here okay," Kat tells him softly. She had turned to face him, propping her elbow against the back of the armchair so she won't slip off the arm, and the other hand twitches as though she intends to lift it, but lies on her knee instead. "How long were you travelling for?"

"I got on the greyhound at about three yesterday afternoon," he tells her. "So about twenty-one hours, I think."

"Twenty-one?" Kat demands. "That's nearly a whole day! You must be exhausted!"

Casper shakes his head. "I'm not that tired. I slept on the bus."

"You didn't think to stop at a hotel or anything?"

Casper gently brings their foreheads together and tells her, "No. I didn't want to stop at a hotel. I just wanted to see you."

She pulls a face and says, "Casper, you're sweet. But you're alive now, and if living people don't get enough sleep, they get sick. Now come on, you need to get some rest."

Kat makes as if to stand up but Casper immediately pulls her straight into his lap and holds her tight. She doesn't bother trying to fight him and instead he feels her arms wrap around his torso. And although he does feel tired, now that he thinks about it, he is perfectly content to just sit like this with Kat forever.

"I'm just fine like this," he tells her, fighting back a small smile.

"I know," she replies. "Me too."

She kisses his cheek gently, causing him to smile, even though he is falling asleep.

Kat runs her fingers through Casper's sandy hair, which is tangled and slightly coarse because he hasn't bothered to brush it, and enjoys the feeling of sitting across his legs. This is something she has waited patiently four years for; and it is something she refuses to allow herself to enjoy too much all at once for fear that if she does, it will wear off and he will become a ghost again.

It does not take long before Casper falls asleep – he is clearly in need of some good rest – and Kat reluctantly eases herself out of his grip so she can carry him to their room. Although, since he is alive again now, it probably won't be a room they share for much longer.

Actually, Kat is not sure how to go about carrying Casper to his room, and eventually settles for carrying him bridal-style, smiling fondly as he unconsciously nuzzles against her shoulders and wraps his arms around her again. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps, she reflects, holding his thin frame close and steadying herself as his weight surprises her – he looks lighter than he is, and she still remembers when he was a ghost and seemingly weighed nothing.

When he wakes up, he is lying, fully-clothed, in his own bed, or at least what was his own bed. He is less tired now, but waking up makes him long to be asleep again. Still, it is probably late afternoon, and Kat is standing over him, shaking his shoulder gently to wake him up, her hair falling all around her face and bordering it like a dark halo.

Can there be a more perfect sight to wake up to? He doubts it.

"Hey, sleepy," she says, smiling and holding the faintest trace of amusement in her voice. "Sorry to wake you up. We were gonna wait for you before we had dinner, but we're all starving. You coming?"

"Definitely," he says, although he has to clear his throat first. He throws the comforter away from his torso and springs to his feet beside Kat, suddenly full of energy all over again.

"Good," Kat says. She takes his hand and they begin to walk downstairs. "So, listen, which bedroom do you want? Because I can always swap if you –"

"No, no, it's alright," Casper replies, recalling that Kat's father sleeps in one of the spare rooms, and adds, "I'll move into the master bedroom – the one my parents used to sleep in."

"Are you sure? Because now you're alive again, I sort of feel like I'm kicking you out of your own –"

Kat is cut off when Casper kisses her gently on the lips. He pulls back again to see her staring at him, her cheeks slightly red and her pupils dilated; and he feels like he will forever be grateful to have the same effect on her now as she has always had on him. "It's my house," he tells her, cupping her cheek in his palm. "I can take whichever room I want."

"It's not your house yet," she remarks teasingly, smirking. "Not until you collect your inheritance."

He chuckles and mutters a "Soon…" which is supposed to sound dark and conniving but in actuality just makes them both laugh. They are still giggling a little as they make their way into the kitchen.

"What's so funny?" Dr Harvey asks politely, setting their meals down on the table. It seems they have ordered takeout.

"Nothing," Kat tells him, still giggling. "Casper made a funny joke."

"What was it?"

Kat waves the question away physically. "You wouldn't get it, dad. You really needed to be there. Honest."

Over dinner, Dr Harvey tells Casper that tomorrow he should go to city hall and collect his inheritance – namely, the money he has inherited from his family and the deed to the house – and he will then be put onto the school system. Casper tells Dr Harvey that, thank you, he is very grateful, and don't worry, he has no intention of making them move out.

He is virtually cross-examined about where he has been while he was away; what he has done; whether he remembers how he came to be alive again yet; how his journey was. He explains that he has been searching for someone who could help him to live and that he found them quickly, but had to wait around a while for the procedure to be ready. Then he tells them about the journey: roughly nineteen hours by greyhound, a couple more hours by taxicab, a brief detour to the graveyard (Casper's uncles look mildly touched that someone's actually bothered to visit their graves), checking the map and being hit on by Amber (Kat tenses at this part) and then walking up to the Manor on his own. It seems days, weeks, months, years, maybe even decades away by now.

"No wonder you're so tired," Dr Harvey says. "You should probably go straight to bed after dinner. We've got a long day tomorrow – not as long as the one you've already had, but I still think you should get some rest."

In spite of the doctor's advice, Casper stays up a couple of hours longer, to prepare his new room and spend some time with Kat. Of course, spending time with Kat is higher on his agenda than preparing his new room.

He spends all evening with her, mostly watching television together from their armchair, until he grows tired again, and then Kat goes with him to find a pillow and comforter. Although it is not used anymore, his parents' double bed – a four-poster with thin netting curtains and heavy velvet curtains – is in pristine condition, the mattress in need of replacing but easily replaced with a spare mattress he remembers about.

It feels stranger to be actually turning his parents' bedroom into his own as opposed to just thinking about it; but he has to remind himself that it is not their room anymore. They have moved on and he has come back to life, and so it is his. The entire Manor is, really, but he doesn't care too much about that; he just wants to make sure the Harveys don't have to leave. Ever.

He says goodnight to Kat, changes into the pyjamas from the duffle bag, shuts the light off, climbs into bed and draws the light netting curtains, wondering whether he'll dream of tomorrow, of his parents or of Kat.