Right, before we start, I just want to say, this is the second last chapter...

Tuesdays had always been boring.

Frank didn't know why, but there had always been something about them that made his mind go numb and his eyes droop to sleep. In his opinion, they were worse than Mondays.

Today was no exception.

He sat on the sofa with Gerard, side by side, a few inches apart, eating pizza and drinking beer. The television screen flickered with images of happy smiling couples buying properties along the golden sands of the Caribbean. That was as close as he got to real sunlight these days. He had to admit it; he really did miss blue skies.

"Go change the channel, sweetie, this is making me feel kinda sick."

Frank picked up the remote and, as requested, flicked the channel up. He landed on some soppy rom-com, mid sex scene. Awkwardly, he flicked the channel up again, deciding it was safer to watch a documentary about sharks.

"Why does it make you feel sick?" Frank asked after another few minutes of silence.

"Dunno", he replied with a shrug, "I guess it just reminds me of the old days..."

"D'you miss being alive?"

The air was heavy with nerves until it was sliced by Gerard's answer.

"In some ways, I guess..."

"You miss your brother, don't you?"

There was more silence.

"Yeah, I miss Mikey alot. It hurts."

Frank leaned into Gerard so their sides touched. He didn't like to admit it, but he felt sorry for Gerard. Life sounded hard for him.

"Then why don't you go find him?"

Gerard reached for his ass pocket and pulled out a leather wallet. His body trembling, palm sweating, hands fumbling, he popped it open and slid out a tiny paper photograph from the plastic pocket. Without even looking at it, he passed it to Frank, nodding at him to examine it. In the photo were two people- one a lanky looking teenage boy with long, straightened mousy hair and a set of glasses propped on the end of his pointed nose. The other, was Gerard, exactly the same as he sat before me.

"The problem is Frankie, he's changed, but I haven't."

Frank the photograph back to him, and he pauses, resting it limply between his index finger and thumb. A tear slips from his eye, sliding down his cheek. Frank believed that was the first time he had seen him cry.

"Well, maybe seeing him would, I dunno, reassure you that he's okay. I'll even go check the phone book to find out where he is and..."

"Don't worry. I know where he lives."

Frank looked up. Gerard was still sniffling slightly.

"But he can't see me. No matter what. It'll just creep him out. He expects me to be dead, and even if he did believe I was alive, I should have aged. It's been over ten bloody years..."

Frank took his hand in his.

"Let's go find him then."

As they ran from the house, Frank checked the time on his watch.

It was Wednesday.

A couple of hours and a bus journey later (thanks to Gerard being full up on Frank's blood and Frank usually loosing all signs of hunger after being fed upon, the bus journey was sufferable enough that at the first sign of blood they could at least survive till the next stop before cracking), the two men stood outside a small Victorian era house on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by trees and bushes and greenery. Gerard had informed Frank on the way over that the house had belonged to his Grandmother, who had left it to Mikey and himself in her will. They both decided that when the time came, they would move into it together. Gerard just prayed that Mikey hadn't changed his plans in the last ten years.

Creeping through the moonlit garden, the undead stalked the living, yet there hearts pounded like drums, bursting from there chest. This was the closest Gerard had felt to being alive in a long, long time.

"That's him."

Frank joined Gerard to peer in the front window of the house. His breath steamed up the already dust and fly carcass coated glass, yet through the misty pane he could see a man (Mikey?) lying on a sofa (sleeping?), a woman resting her head on his chest (his wife?) as the main menu music to a movie poured from a television screen opposite them.

"He looks so happy..." Frank turned his attention back to Gerard. He was crying again, yet somehow, this time, it was different. There was less sorrow in his sobs and more... pride?

"Then why are you crying?" Frank tried his hardest to sound comforting, but his voice split with acid. Gerard didn't seem to notice.

He shook his head slightly, peering down into the flower bed they had been crouching in, crumbling his sneaker through the mud with vague curiosity. Looking back up, he wiped the steam and grit from the glass panel, his nose nearly pressed against it. Frank could now clearly see the man inside. He was in his early thirties - yet his face was still fresh and young- and a long blonde fringe was pushed over his head, yet several strands had flopped over his eyes in slumber. His pointed features were no longer masked by a set of glasses, highlighting the similarities between him and his kin- the astonishing hazel of his eyes, something about his lips-, similarities that had not been obvious in the previous pictures.

"He's happy, because I'm gone. I ruined his life. i was the one that bought him despair and misery, but now I'm out of his life... everything has turned out for him. Y'know, if I was still part of his life, he wouldn't be lying, peaceful on the sofa with a beautiful partner. I just wouldn't let him have all of this. i wouldn't let him have any other friends apart from me, never mind a girlfriend.

"I can remember one time, though, when he was about fifteen, he did meet this girl. She was lovely. She had long locks of golden hair and she always wore this big, grey hoody and her and Mikey were perfect for each other. But I hated them being together. Not because I fancied her or anything, hell no! I was well aware of my sexual preferences by then. But because I didn't want anyone stealing him away from me. I just wanted it to be me and him, even if it was me and him being miserable together..."

That was about when frank began to cry. Big, fat, pathetic drops, like the story were a movie and he was a heartbroken hormonal girl with a tub of ice cream. Except this story was real, more real than anything he had heard before.

"I ended Mikey's life..."

Gerard fell silent for a minute, like he was contemplating speech. Like he was considering announcing something, something risky, dangerous perhaps. After what felt like an eternity, his face sprung up, adorned by a huge grin.

"How would you like to be mortal again?"