The car was still half-flooded in water as Helen and Gordon finally managed to park outside the Brittas' family house. As it did so, Helen heaved a sigh of relief that nothing else had occurred since she had managed to drive out of the lake. She probably couldn't take any more mayhem, especially since her pills had been ruined by the trip to the lake.

Of course, with Gordon, every day was a whirlwind of chaos and destruction, a whirlwind so hectic that she usually ended her days wondering why she never left him. But this one took the cake. For starters, she had made a daring escape from the mental health clinic in which she had been held after she had learned that the wife of this beautiful, sexy blue-eyed blonde-haired doctor (God, that man still sent her heart a-fluttering) got mightily annoyed about her attempts to seduce him and sent a letter to the centre to inform her husband.

So she tried to destroy the letter. It was a question she came back to time and time, of course.

Why did she make such a big attempt to ensure that her marriage to Gordon remain intact?

After all, her life would be much improved if she divorced. Sure, she would be dirt-broke and she wouldn't have a roof over her head but it would be an improvement from constantly exploding houses, electrocutions, and the other horrors that she suffered on a day-to-day basis. To say nothing about the money saved by her quitting the pills that she had turned to so that she could get through the days.

Well, she had her theories of course. One was that she was mad, and let's be honest here, considering the hand that fate had dealt, why would one not be mad.

The other was that he had worshipped her. That of course was the likely reason, although it struggled to survive against all of the other traits that she found annoying about him.

But still, what was done was done. The letter was now nothing more than an incomprehensible swirl of ink, contents rendered gibberish by the lake she had crashed into under the belief that the car was about to blow up.

Unfortunately, this led to another issue, for Gordon had found out that he had spent a stint on the other side.

He took the news as well as one would expect if one had heard that they had spent a period of time hanging out with the dead – namely going into shock. For a fleeting moment, Helen feared that he was at risk of dying again, but that, fortunately, didn't happen.

Good thing too. The children were not going to believe that he had gone off on a long holiday again. Plus, she had been looking forward to the potential… enhancements that the doctors had given Gordon.

Well, if he let her. After all, he wouldn't let her have sex with him in the centre.

Still, she hoped that he would change his mind once he had a look at her pajamas. Sure, her nice dress didn't work, but she always thought her lingerie was more… sexually provocative.

Speaking of death, even though he wasn't at risk of crossing into the other side again, it had meant that for one of the few times in their marriage, Gordon had fallen silent as they departed the car and went up to the front door.

Helen did not attempt to get any word out of him. It would be for the best after all.

Unfortunately, the day got worse when she took notice of a very familiar-looking car in the driveway.

The car of her mother.

Her mother was what would call the Demon Spawn from Hell and Helen would know that, for she had not only spent her formative years under her but had spent a significant part of her life having Gordon as a husband. It wasn't just the way she had never really supported her, after all. It was the bitterness to her tone, the way she would always put her down, the definite feeling that she was simply a mistake to her. Helen had thought she had departed from her life forever when she had disowned her after she was expelled from school for offering sexual services to fellow students, and ran off with the man she had thought would be her forever.

Well, until he had divorced her and she had ultimately ended up with Gordon.

As such, she had ended up becoming an unfortunate presence in her life after her latest marriage. The unfortunate situation was this - they had been blacklisted from every babysitter in the surrounding areas thanks to her husband, Gordon's father wasn't physically able to manage her six(?) children anymore, and if she was going to leave her children under the care of both Gordon's perpetually busy brother and a woman who called her a bad mother, it would be a sign that she had finally crossed the line into irreversible insanity.

Which left her as the only real option.

Even worse, there was also the creeping feeling that the children thought her to be a better mother than her and would strike if she attempted to change babysitters anyway. Just a couple of months ago, Matthew had said his first word when he called her mother "Mummy", which had broken her heart a little. Especially when he kept calling her that despite her attempts to direct that word at her.

It was a terrible situation indeed. Just like her life at times.

Still, she tried to put on a brave smile as she rang the doorbell, hoping that if she could just about get past her, they would be home free. Several seconds of that annoying march-like tune came and went (blame it on Gordon – he wanted preppy music for some reason she couldn't quite remember) before her mother finally answered.

"Oh, it's you." came the poisonously bitter reply.

Her mother cut an imposing figure in the hallway of the house. Her long trailing greyish-blonde hair writhed like snakes behind her, framing her bony structure and skeletal, witch-like appearance. It was enough to make Helen believe in her less lucid moments that she would genuinely eat her children.

For a moment, Helen stared at her, trying to get her mother to take the hint that she didn't want her here.

But it didn't work. It never did.

Then again, it was somewhat difficult when one is soaking, covered in blood, and is currently acting as an impromptu crutch for one's allegedly super-strong husband.

Before anyone could speak any further, however, they were almost tackled to the ground by a horde of children.

Helen made a headcount as they hugged their parents and snuggled into their stomaches and limbs. To her surprise, she counted only five – Tom, George, Jonathan, Matthew, and Mark.

She briefly panicked, wondering whether a child had been lost, but remembered that, no, she had five children, as it had been since that dreadful time in the High Street.

To her relief, the act of love had given her husband a burst of energy, who moved away from Helen as he started kissing and hugging them himself.

"Hello children, I missed you. Has your grandmother taken care of you well?" She could hear herself say, wincing a little as Tom kissed her where she cut herself in the forehead in the car.

"Yup," said Jonathan, wincing in pain a little once Gordon, still not fully aware of his cybernetic strength, had hugged him, "Although there was that time Mark vomited everywhere and we caused a fire trying to clean it up."

Gordon smiled with the beam of a smile created by a father who hadn't seen his children since the water tank had crushed him into a real-world version of Flat Stanley.

"I hope you have been listening to your grandmother." He said sternly. "and I also hope you've been reading up on my 400-page document for this precise situation, Continuing One's Personal Development when the Parents Are Incapciatated."

The children hesitated for a minute before answering with an unconvincing "Yup!"

"Exccellenttt!"

"Mother," asked Helen, hoping that her mother would detect the bitterness and sourness seeping into her voice. "Why aren't you at home today?"

If she noticed, she didn't mention it, instead giving a nonchalant shrug.

"We're cleaning the house up for you two. Of course, I was perfectly happy just leaving it as your usual pigsty, but your husband insisted that it would be perfectly clean for your return home. Of course, I didn't expect it this early so I hope he's pleased with the work."

"Well, I'll be the judge of that!" said Gordon, taking a glance about the house – Helen briefly wondered whether he got bionic eyes during his time in the hospital - before running his finger experimentally along the coat rack right beside them.

"Hmmm… not bad. Although I can still see some motes of dust around the place. Plus, the coat rack isn't perfectly aligned. If one did this in a European Leisure Centre, they're at risk of being fired. " He concluded, his voice taking on that patronizing tone as it sometimes did.

Helen smirked as her mother scowled in anger. She supposed that that was one reason she stayed with Gordon really – sometimes, his annoying traits could come in quite handy.

"As much as I would love to talk to you," she continued, "I'm dead on my feet, so I and Gordon are going to bed and I would like it if we were not to be disturbed, all right?"

Her mother stared with an intensity that burned right into Helen's soul, making her fear that maybe she wouldn't be free to have that precious night with him.

But she then nodded.

"Very well, but I'll be here tomorrow for when if you need me. And believe me, I have a lot to talk about."

She turned to the children.

"Come along now. Your mother and father are incapable of looking after you today."

The children took it very well, squawking in joy and they bounded off into the living room.

She scowled as they left.

That bitch, taking the affections of her children.

Despite this, however, the smile hadn't left Gordon's face.

"Awww, I missed them. They seemed to have flourished under their grandmother. You should take tips from that lady, you know."

and there was his annoying side again.

Before she could react, Gordon winced in pain and began to lean on Helen again, his eyes taking on that faraway look it took on when he had learned that he had briefly died.

"I'm beginning to feel a little bit strange again, Helen." He said quietly.

"Come on, Gordon. I think some rest would be beneficial for the both of us." She said as she dragged him up the stairs in the process.

They soon entered their bedroom. It was a largely clutter-free room, with the only things there being their luxurious bed (their twentieth in total – furniture had a high tendency to get destroyed thanks to Gordon) and two drawers beside it. Helen knew what Gordon had stored in there usually – mainly books on how to improve himself as a Manager. Her drawers usually resembled a drugstore.

Gordon numbly went into his cupboard, stripping his still somewhat wet clothes and pulling out his (properly hangered, as all his clothes were) traditional pajamas from their properly categorized position right beside his twenty shirts and ties. He tucked himself in, then started staring at the ceiling with a level of unresponsiveness that slightly alarmed Helen.

For a moment, she worried that it would mean that he would not be capable of having sex with her. Still, maybe he would become more responsive when she saw what she had in store for him.

As she went to strip her clothes, she heard Gordon speak from behind her.

"I died Helen. I can't believe I died."

Helen briefly paused, then when she got little response, continued to strip.

It wasn't until she went into the cupboard to get her lingerie that he spoke up again.

"I remember more of my time on the other side now. I was in Heaven and they had the Pearly Gates and everything. But…" and even from here, Helen could somehow tell that he was flaring his nostrils, "there were so many issues with it. For one thing, they didn't have a booking system. I tell you, my darling, if they had a booking system, the entire process could be streamlined and there would be so many happy residents. And then there were the angels themselves. A…"

Helen could see her husband go on one of his complaining rants so attempted to stop it.

"Gordon…"

Thankfully, he got the message. She supposed that was one of the other good things about being with Gordon – sometimes, just sometimes, she was one of the few people who could help change his mind.

"… but the point I'm trying to make here, my darling, is that Pete and Mike…"

"Who are they?"

"Saint Peter and the Archangel Michael."

"Ah." She replied, suspecting that he had probably been pestering them at the other side.

"… But you know what they did, Helen. They gave me a new chance at life. They wanted me to continue…the Dream."

Helen groaned under her breath.

Continue the Dream - more like they couldn't cope with him.

"And you know what it means, my darling. It means that Heaven itself endorses my message of spreading peace and unity across the world! Which gives me some ideas for when I get back to work…"

By this point, his drowsiness had almost faded and he had become more energetic looking, almost as if he would leap out of bed this minute and start "helping" someone.

Now Helen couldn't have that. Not whilst she was trying to bonk him.

"Gordon… I think we should rest first. I know a perfectly good way of doing so." She said, hoping that her gormless git of a husband would get the message as she got into bed first. It was a message she tried to emphasize by putting off her revealing nightdress in full display in front of him. She has gotten very good luck from it – it was the one which had made her old affair Simon aroused when she used it. Of course, he eventually left her, but it worked whilst it lasted, and she hoped that it would do the same for Gordon.

But if he noticed, he didn't say so.

"Fair enough, my darling. I need to be at maximum energy to do so anyway…" He replied, giving off a long yawn before cuddling into the bed.

Helen's expression dropped.

Well of course he wouldn't notice, he has the perfection skills of a half-eaten walnuts. Well, one supposes that they would have to get a bit more with their affections then…

She took a deep breath.

"Gordon… you said that you worshipped me back at the centre. I know you refused back there but I would like to do it now."

The expression on Gordon's face was almost comical with its confusion.

"What?"

"You know, have a relaxing night of sex."

To her dismay, however, he shook his head

"I'm sorry my darling but you're still ill. Which reminds me, I need to phone the clinic first thing in the morning to get you back. Get you some more therapy, eh. Plus, there is getting that car returned and…"

Helen didn't appreciate this.

I have been waiting two months for this and if she had any more distractions, she would probably lose it for good.

She attempted to pounce, her head driven insane with the desire to have sex. Before she could do so, Gordon interrupted her by giving her a slight kiss on her forehead.

"I know what you're thinking of, my darling. You want to have the night of your life with me again after being away from me so long and believe me, I want to have that night as well. But if one wishes to have that night, they need to be physically one hundred percent up to it."

He took her hands in hers.

"If you want, we can have a nice day out tomorrow before you go back to the clinic. You know, just you and me. After all, you're the woman I worship."

Helen paused.

There it was again. The real reason why she stayed with him.

It was his undying love for her.

Sure, his ways of looking after her were… not great, but at least he attempted it. Which was more than she could say than her previous husband. For a moment, she considered refusing and trying again, but she decided to let things run.

Maybe for once, things would be different.

Maybe for once, God would smile on her.

She yawned herself.

Besides, now that she had gotten back to her relative senses, maybe this wasn't a good idea after all.

She kissed her husband on the cheek before snuggling into bed herself.

"Gordon… you do know that I do love you?"

The reply came quickly.

"Indeed, my darling, and you know what… I love you too."