Kieren stares straight ahead, totally and completely aghast, not quite believing what he is seeing.

"AMY!" he gasps.

"That's my name. Don't wear it out, otherwise I'll make yer buy me a new one, Kieren Walker," Amy Dyer says, smiling back at him for the first time in what seems to Kieren like forever.

She is here. She is really here.

And she is back!

Kieren tries to find his voice to speak again, but only a whisper comes out. He does not even know where to begin and opens his mouth uselessly, trying to generate a sound in his throat, while his brain races trying to catch up.

"W-what yer doing here? I mean h-how? Yer… died?" He finally manages to stutter.

"Yeah, I know that, handsome. 2009 and 2013, but who's counting, ay?"

She looks? Well. Better than well, she looks – alive - and not in the partially deceased way of being alive, like REALLY alive.

Even in the dim light of the hallway he can clearly make out the hue of her skin and it is not cover-up she is wearing. Her skin is pink and rosy; it is practically glowing with life.

"Come here, you," she says, capturing him in a bear hug, practically squeezing the life out of him. His arms feel dumb as he holds her in return. Pulling back she pinches both his cheeks. "Oooh, I've missed you!" she squeals in delight.

"But… HOW?" Kieren repeats, his mind stuck on a constant loop of the same question running through his head.

"We got anything in? I'm starving," she says, ignoring him and heading for the kitchen, turning the lights back on. "Not eating in five years really gives you an appetite. I just can't stop stuffing me face. I'm telling yer, I've got the serious munchies now!" she laughs, inspecting the poor contents of the fridge and patting her stomach. "Gonna be the size of a house if I carry on like this."

Simon emerges from the bedroom upon hearing the commotion,

"What's going on… Amy?!" He looks surprised too, but Kieren notices not quite as surprised as he should be; not nearly as surprised as he is, anyway.

"Ah, there's my big, gorgeous, hunk of a man," she beams, abandoning her hunt for food and pulling Simon down against her into a hug. He grunts at the impact.

Greeting hug time over, all they can do is both look back at her, mouths open.

She laughs at their reactions. "Honestly, look at yer both! For two people who have come back from the grave themselves, anyone would think you're seeing a ghost right now."

"Are we?" Kieren asks. He knows it sounds ludicrous, but at this point he is starting to think anything might be possible. Those rumours about vampires and werewolves running amok in South Wales do not seem quite so ridiculous anymore.

"As if?" Amy scoffs.

Simon regains his composure quickly and takes her by the waist, lifting her off the floor for another squeeze, perhaps to make sure she is real. "It's good to have ye back. Not been the same without ye."

"It's good to be back. And the two of yous, all shacked up together in a little love nest," she looks adoringly at them. "Glad the bungalow hasn't gone to waste while I've been away. Good thing yer looked after useless here, was worried how he'd cope without me tying his shoelaces for him," she remarks to Simon.

Kieren rolls his eyes. Wherever Amy has been, she has certainly not changed. It is still the same old Amy.

"Milk! Yer got milk," she exclaims excitedly. "There should still be some teabags in the cupboard. Absolutely gasping, me."

After boiling some water in the old fashioned kettle on the gas hob, its high pitch whistle echoing through the bungalow as the water is brought to the boil, she makes a cup of tea for herself, moving into the living room when she is done. Simon and Kieren follow behind.

She sits in the armchair, taking the cuddly toy tiger and putting it on her lap while blowing on the steaming liquid before taking a sip. Simon and Kieren sit together on the sofa mutely.

Amy notices something at their feet. "Hey, isn't that yer old guitar from the commune?"

Simon glances toward the instrument still lying on the carpet in front of him and nods.

"Yer been back to the Lake District then?" she asks, completely ignorant of the events of the past few months. "How's everyone doing there?"

Simon shakes his head, "Not been back." He leaves out the part about thinking he was not welcome, along with the Undead Prophet's demand for him to kill The First Risen. That was a story for another time.

Kieren realises he had not even considered earlier where Simon got the guitar from when he came home that evening, too wrapped up in his churning emotions from the argument with his father. He knew Simon had not visited the commune again, so where had it come from, exactly? Although, out of the two mysteriously appearing things this evening, the old battered musical instrument certainly ran a distant second to his two times deceased friend.

"So then, how is everyone else?" Amy continues, still not venturing an explanation as to how she is sitting there with them after they buried her in December. "How's Philip? Have yer seen him lately?" Her tone is casual, but neither Kieren or Simon are fooled.

"He's okay," Kieren tells her. "Missing yer, a lot."

"Aww, what's he like, ay?" She simpers.

Kieren looks at her properly, just sitting there, drinking tea, as if nothing has happened. He never knew Amy when she was alive so has no idea if this is how she was before she died – the first time around that is – or whatever she has been through has transformed her into what she is like now.

As he takes in her new appearance, he realises he finds her quite stunning. She could certainly pull off the pale skin and white eyed appearance of the partially deceased, but as this warmed up version, she is a sight to behold. Her cheeks are flush; lips full and luscious; and her eyes are the most amazing shade of hazel he has ever seen. The choice of Irisalways Contact lenses he was offered in Norfolk was blue or brown, so he was lucky his eyes before he died matched one of those options, but for Amy he realises, it would not have been ideal. Hazel eyes aside, she is absolutely beautiful now, bursting with life, and sitting in front of them as if she has simply been away for a short time on one of her extended day trips.

She asks lots more questions about the village and they catch her up on all she has missed over the last four months with the exception of the Beating of the Bounds march - which to be fair is not a lot – and she laughs and says crazy things as usual, as she slowly drinks her tea. Neither Kieren or Simon ask the question again they both most want to know. Chance of getting a word in edgeways would be a fine thing anyway.

Finally Amy yawns.

"Time to be off to Bedfordshire, I think," she says, stifling a second yawn and setting the empty mug on the coffee table.

It is late and Kieren is exhausted by the day's events, but he cannot imagine being able to sleep tonight. His brain was never going to shut off and allow him to slip into blissful unconsciousness now.

"What, already?" Kieren quickly rises to his feet as Amy does the same. She cannot leave yet without offering them any answers at all. "But yer haven't told us anything, Amy? Where have yer been all this time?"

She kisses him gently on the cheek and then leans over to kiss Simon also. It is a reassuring gesture, but still Kieren's nerves are frayed.

"Tomorrow, I'll tell yer about it tomorrow. Yer should always leave them wanting more," she says, making a vague waving movement with her hand as she wanders into her old bedroom, leaving Simon and Kieren alone in the living room and none the wiser as to what is going on.

Amy is back though, and she is okay, and that is all that matters.

For now, at least.


With Amy home, the bungalow in the morning is a buzz of activity. By the time Kieren and Simon get up, she has already been out to the corner shop and stocked up on the basics and the kitchen is filled with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and frying bacon and eggs on the cooker. It is enough to make Kieren's mouth water, if only he could still eat.

"That smells amazing," Kieren says to Amy as he sits down at the kitchen table to watch her cook, happy in the simple pleasure of being in her presence once again.

"Well I would offer to go splitsies on it, but it'll only make yer sick, and don't want that on my first day back." Amy turns her attention back to the frying pan and then looks back up at him from underneath her eyelashes. "Don't suppose you've tried to eat anything while I've been away, have yer?"

What sort of question is that?

"Erm, nooo," he answers, a little perplexed. Then a thought occurs to him. Perhaps Amy is referring to food of the less conventional kind?

"Oh! No. Of course not," Kieren objects suddenly at the realisation. "Sheep's brains aren't really my thing, unless you're asking if I've gone rabid while you've been away and attacked a few passers by on the side? I can assure yer the answer to that one is also, and most definitely, a no too."

"I didn't mean that, dumdum. Just wondered if yer ever fancied trying living food again, that's all?" she continued, deliberately not making eye contact and instead busying herself by putting a couple of slices of bread in the toaster.

"Not really, rather think I'm over that now."

"Over what?" Simon asks, coming into the kitchen and padding down his pockets.

"Yer left them in your coat hanging up by the door," Kieren informs him. Amy raises her eyebrows at the two of them together and grins to herself.

"What would I do without ye, ay?" Simon smiles, leaning over and hooking his index finger under Kieren's chin to raise his face to his and gives him a quick peck on the lips to say thank you.

Kieren tries his best not to look dazzled, but when Simon is in a good mood - as he is this morning - it is more of a challenge than Kieren can live up to.

"Smoke less, maybe?" Kieren says, trying to keep it cool, but his eyes still follow Simon as he leaves through the hall toward the front door, his gaze automatically dropping to somewhere slightly below Simon's waist. Sometimes he just could not help himself.

"Aw, right married couple yer two are. It's like Mr and Mr Undead-Happily-Ever-After."

He shakes his head at her. "Amy, shut up!"

"I think it's rather sweet actually. Who'd a thought it?" she winks before breaking into a singsong tone, 'Kieren and Simon sitting in a tree, K – I – S – S – I – N - G."

Kieren pulls a face. "I think I'll go outside and join him."

He pushes his chair back to leave and it scrapes nosily across the kitchen floor.

"Wait up," Amy shouts back, turning off the hob and quickly pouring herself a coffee, "I'll come with yer."

The three of them sit on the front step, Simon rolling a cigarette, while Kieren and Amy watch the world go by – well, an occasional neighbour go by, anyway.

"Morning, Mrs. Cooper," Amy calls out loudly to the women who lives two houses down. The elderly lady looks up to wish her a good morning in return and then her eyes widen in surprise, before mumbling her greeting and hurrying past.

The three of them sitting together in front of the bungalow must look quite a sight; two PDS with dead white skin and pinprick eyes and another next to them, back from the dead for a second time and never looking more alive.

Amy laughs at the thought. "That will be all around the village in the next hour. Mrs Cooper is a such gossip."

Kieren and Amy natter on happily, as Simon lights his rollup and takes a long drag. He tries to concentrate on their conversation, but his mind keeps pulling him back to thoughts of the camp site and Vicar Sinclair's words to him the day before. So much has happened in such a short period of time, he does not know what to attempt to process first.

Their never-ending chatter continues on for some time. Amy tells them briefly and with little detail of how she found herself back at the treatment centre in Norfolk. She explains that the first thing she remembers is her heart beating and that now she is on new medication, administered in the same way, but instead of preventing her from becoming rabid, it keeps her from reverting back to a PDS state. Despite Kieren's prompts, she appears reluctant to say much more, or perhaps she simply does not know any more, and Simon remains quiet, taking it all in and joining the dots together. He had heard some things back in the commune, whispers of prophecies of PDS being cured and yet still living forever, but it had always been assumed that it would be linked with The Second Rising. That is why the disciples had been sent on a mission to find The First, but if other PDS were warming up as Amy had, was another Rising even necessary anymore?

Long after Simon has finished his first cigarette, they continued to talk on the bungalow step. Leaning over to stub his second cigarette of the day out on the floor in front of him, he realises he and Kieren needed to be conscious now of Amy's new requirements. They could help her administer her daily shots as normal, but they should also make sure she ate and drank regularly and kept herself healthy, as after all this time of going without such concerns, he could see how easily she could forget and lapse back into undead behaviour.

"I'm heading back in. Amy, can I get ye another coffee?"

"Another cuppa would be fab," she says, handing him her empty mug, before he disappears into the bungalow.

Amy leans back on her hands and raises her face to the sky, basking in the warmth of the sun she can now finally feel once again. Kieren watches her silently, marvelling at the transformation and slightly envious of her returned senses. He had observed that his were coming back slowly, something he and Doctor Russo had discussed, but not to the extent of what Amy was able to experience now. She catches him looking at her and sits back up straight a little self-consciously.

They can hear Simon in the kitchen, making Amy another coffee. "Well, yer got him well trained, haven't you?" she says, bumping his shoulders with her own. "I just can't get over what an adorable couple yer make."

Kieren sighs at the soppy description, attempting to cover his embarrassment. "Yer said already."

"No harm in saying it again, loverboy. Bet the fam is over the moon, aren't they?"

"Yeah, dad in particular was thrilled at the news." Kieren tries to gloss over it, but he knew it was something that still needed to be dealt with. So, moving on. "Adorable? Really, Amy? Simon will be well chuffed. Exactly what we were going for, that."

"Well in that case, yer nailed it!" Amy laughs, punching the air in success, before turning uncharacteristically serious. "Yer are happy though, yeah? Wondered if you'd still be here when I got back."

Kieren looks at her for a moment before considering an answer. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he thinks of how much he has missed his BDFF – or BFF really, under the circumstances.

"Yes I am. Didn't have to go 'round the whole world to find it after all. It's funny because up until recently, I didn't realise that I couldn't remember what it felt like. To be happy, I mean. It's been so long…"

He stops abruptly as Rick flashes through his mind. There was a time that Amy's epitaph, taken from Lord Tennyson's poem 'In Memoriam A.H.H', seemed like a cruel joke to his mind.

I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it when I sorrow most;

'Tis better to have loved and lost, Than never to have loved at all.

Yeah, right!

Then Kieren remembers Philip. He remembers the look of disbelief on his face as Doctor Russo told them Amy was gone; he remembers his sheer isolation at her funeral and refusal to leave her side after her coffin was in the ground; and he remembers his unwavering belief that he would see her again during all those months between then and now.

"Amy, did Phil know yer were coming back?"

Amy starts to play with a stray blade of grass that has found a crack in the concrete and for a moment Kieren thinks that again he is not going to get an answer.

"Nobody knew," she finally says quietly, shaking her head and making her long hair sway gently from side to side. "I didn't even know."

Kieren thinks of the flowers Philip left in her room instead of her graveside. Simon was right after all - or rather Emily Dickinson was - as it turns out; hope never does stop at all.

He imagines Simon smiling that knowing smile at him and saying, 'Not so fucking weird after all then, ay, Kieren?' and he smiles briefly in return at the imaginary version in his head of his lover.

"When yer going to tell him, Amy? Or rather, when yer gonna see him?"

Amy shrugs. She desperately wants to see Philip, but is afraid of his reaction. Will he still like her now she is no longer PDS? He had told her once that he would like her hot, cold or even tepid, but the proof would be in the pudding. She is alive again now, well Re-alive is what they were calling it back at the treatment centre, but will he see her as a different person because of it? Has he moved on? Found someone new? She had seen the flowers in her room, but maybe that was just guilt or a misplaced sense of obligation? Mrs. Cooper would be spreading the news of her return as they speak, so she knew she had to find him and find him quickly. When he finds out, it should not be by second hand means, she needed to do it herself.

"Thought I might go and find him this morning actually," she whispers, as if it is a secret she can only share with Kieren. She has butterflies in her stomach and her heart is beating faster at the thought. Part of her is so excited at the idea of seeing him again and the other part is terrified. They had only had a short time together, perhaps it did not mean as much to him as it did to her?

She stands up and brushes her skirt down.

"No time like the present, I guess," she says, just as Simon comes back out and hands her a fresh mug. "Well, maybe after I've had this, and breakfast, of course."


Philip was sitting in the town hall, the Monday morning council meeting notes laid out before him on the table. Despite the village scandal regarding the PDS brothel, without Vicar Oddie and Maxine Martin the parish council were in desperate need of someone who knew the ropes. Philip had worked his way up to councillor from a lowly clerk and knew everything back to front, so the parish had the choice of either reinstating him or trying to muddle through on their own. Not wishing to back down and swallow their pride, they had struggled on and tried the latter option for a few weeks until Vicar Sinclair had been appointed as the new parish priest, and thus head of the parish council. He had reinstated Councillor Wilson almost immediately after seeing the disorder that had resulted without him and so the council was now made up of the Vicar, Philip, Pearl Pindar, Duncan Lancashire and Abigail Swan. If they were in the House of Commons it would have been a hung parliament, as more often than not, their views were split completely down the middle with Philip and Duncan voting one way and Pearl and Abigail voting another, so it was always left up to the vicar to cast the deciding vote.

Once the council was assembled and seated around the group of tables in the hall, Philip set to work on going through the agenda of topics to be discussed. There had been a problem with cars speeding through the village and several residents had complained that it was an accident waiting to happen unless something was done about it pronto. Philip had discussed this matter with the local Police Constable who informed him speed cameras could only be placed in black spots where there had already been a fatality - something they were rather hoping to avoid - so he had been looking into other measures to prevent such an event occurring and is listing the options in detail when Pearl, losing patience, interrupts him rudely.

"Never mind the ruddy traffic calming and sleeping policemen, what we going to do about the Pikey caravan site up on Lambert Farm land?"

Philip had been made aware of the traveller's and was hoping to avoid discussing it at the meeting. He knew at this point in time nothing could, or in fact should, be done. Not yet anyway, unless they had just cause.

"They haven't caused a disturbance, have they?" Duncan asks as Philip keeps his head down, eyes fixed on his papers, sneaking a side glance at Vicar Sinclair, who is sitting back comfortably in his chair, arms crossed and appearing totally relaxed.

"Not exactly, but they came in to my pub on Saturday night. Bold as brass they were. Knew there was going to be bother the second they walked in. Gave me quite a fright, truth be told, coming in all bare faced with those beady eyes of theirs."

"How awful," Abigail sympathises, putting her hand on her friend's. "Tell us what happened, Pearl?"

"It was Jemima Walker's birthday do and those Pikey Rotters come in and started stirring things up. Had to throw Kieren's Irish mate and Gary Kendal out after that."

"No, yer never," a voice echoes from the front of the hall. It is Dean coming to collect some supplies from the back office for the day's Give Back Scheme duties. "I was there," Dean continues, approaching the cluster of tables in the centre of the hall where they are all sitting watching him.

Vicar Sinclair sits forward with interest, hands closed in front of him. "Why don't you tell us what you saw, Dean?"

"Okay then," he says, happy to be listened to for a change. "So those newbie undeadons turned up, right? But they never caused no trouble. Gazza just had too much to drink and Simon threw him out on his ear. End of."

"Do yer mind, Dean? I think you'll find this is a parish council meeting," Pearl says tightly to him through clenched teeth at being so thoroughly contradicted.

Dean takes off his cap and scratches the back of his head before putting it back in place. "So what?"

Abigail is glaring unapprovingly at Dean too now. "So it's confidential," she spells out, as if explaining to child.

"Conferwhat? Oh, yer mean not to blab to anyone."

Philip tries to suppress a smile.

"No, I mean you're not allowed to be here, full stop." Pearl corrects, jerking her head to one side toward the door for him to leave forthwith.

"Well, I only wanted to get a couple of things and the register for me clipboard. We're a bit short on Give Back participants today."

This gets everyone's attention. Non-compliant PDS Sufferers is something no parish council wants on their hands. ULA terrorist attacks and Blue Oblivion drug abuse has thankfully not been a part of village life for some months now, but the very whisper of it put the whole townsfolk on alert.

"Who is missing?" Vicar Sinclair asks, sitting back once again in his chair, apparently not as concerned as the others are.

"Dunno, that's what I wanted to check," Dean reasons. "Simon Monroe for starters. Oh, and Kieren Walker."

"See? Kieren's Irish one. Again! He's one bad apple; don't know why Sue and Steve put up with it. I tell yer, that boy'll swing for him one day and it's not like Kieren needs an excuse to go off the rails," Pearl grumbles, crossing her arms as if to say she told them so.

Dean mutters under his breath as he begins to shuffle off. "Bloody tapped, the lot of them. Make right good politicians, as if?!"

Philip sighs and looks at his watch. They have wasted enough time already. "Can we move on please? Got a lot to get through this morning"

They all look to Dean, who has still not left and is making as much noise as possible. He looks back at them slowly, aware of the silence that only he is disturbing.

"Oh I get it, 'Dean, do one.' Alright, alright, I can take a hint, me. I'm going. See?"

Dean finally leaves and Philip is able to begin again. "Anyway, back to the order of the day."

"Oh, no yer don't, Philip. What are we going to about those Pikeys?" Pearls says, stabbing her index finger on the table to make her point. Philip watches her, thankful that the table is taking the assault and not himself.

"Well, technically, they're not doing anything illegal," he points out, wincing at the impending reactions.

Abigail looks absolutely horrified. "They're trespassing and that's just for starters."

Philip stays calm. "Firstly, Mrs Lamb - Pearl, yer have to keep in mind that all Lambert Farm estate is currently in probate and as such is not owned by any one individual at this time. In effect, this means that no one can make the complaint of trespassing on their land to the Police until the matter has been concluded." Philip cannot be sure, but he suspects that if he dared to glance up at Vicar Sinclair, he would find him smiling just a little. Instead, he looks down in concentration to carry on pulling apart Pearl's objects with his knowledge of the law. "And secondly, there is a loophole used by travellers that states that possession is nine tenths of the law and thus they have squatters rights on the land."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Pearl asks, not even trying to hide her fury.

"It means," Vicar Sinclair speaks up, "That we leave them be."

Philip looks back at her innocently, as Pearl does a wonderful impression of chewing a wasp.

After the meeting concludes to few of the member's satisfaction, everyone leaves quickly, not wishing to spending any more time with one another. Emotions were running high and no one wanted to say anything they may later regret when it got them thrown off the council. Philip stayed behind to clear everything away.

After stacking up the chairs and folding away the tables, he moved them back into the storage room, before retreating into the back office. Next he begins the task of filling away the sheets from the meeting into the relevant files in the filing cabinets against the far wall. As he does so, he notices on the desk Dean's clipboard and register, which after all the fuss earlier, he had left behind anyway. He picked it up to look at the previous week's attendance and barely took any notice when the main door open and closed as someone entered the hall.

"In here, Dean," he calls out. Maybe he should appoint someone else to take on the Give Back Scheme duties from now on, not that anyone was queuing up to take on the role. "I've got your clipboard here. Maybe in future, yer should just…"

He stopped mid-sentence.

Amy is standing there, looking at him apprehensively.

She wills herself to look dead ahead holding his gaze, while her nerves batter her internally, having no idea what to expect his reaction to be upon seeing her after all this time. He looks exactly the same as she remembers him. His hair is a little longer and he looks a little paler. There are dark circles underneath his eyes like he has not had a good night's sleep in months, but she does not see fear or even shock on his face, just joy and relief. His smile slowly spreads wide across his face from ear to ear.

"Amy, you're back," he exclaims, surging forward without a second's thought and sweeping her up in his arms in an instant. He kisses her hard, not waiting for permission or with any hesitancy. "I knew yer would come back to me, I just knew it!"

She wraps her own arms around in and holds him tightly, partly with relief and partly because it is unmistakably the only place in the world she wants to be.

"How's it going, Tiger?" she grins, still slightly taken aback by his total acceptance of the situation.

"Much better for seeing you," he says, taking her face in his hands, eyes roaming over familiar features and kissing her again more gently this time.

Her eyes begin to well up with tears of relief and he wipes them away with his thumbs as they start to trickle down her warm cheeks.

"Hey, none of this," he says softly, "You're home now, where you belong and we're together again. Welcome home, Amy."

Feeling more safe and happy than she has for the four long months since she was last with him, she tells him honestly, "It's good to be home." She knows the home she is referring to is not a place - it is not Roarton - for Amy, home is a person now and that person is Philip. He is where she belongs and wherever he is, that is where home will always be for her from now on.

They just look at each other for a long time in silence.

"So how'd yer like me now?' she finally asks shyly. Despite this and in total Amy Dyer fashion, she proceeds to do a twirl for him to give Philip the full Re-alive effect, her full skirt swooshing around her legs as she pirouettes. "Do yer like what yer see, me being all warmed up and all?"

He laughs, taking her hands in his own as she completes her 360 and faces him once again. "Amy Dyer, yer know, I always thought yer were pretty hot even when you were cold!"


Late afternoon, Kieren found himself at his parent's front door, hand hovering over the doorbell. They say to never let the sun go down on an argument, so despite feeling that it should be his dad making the first move, he had swallowed his pride and decided to take the first step himself. Things had been so good recently, and now with Amy back they could be perfect, if only he could sort things out with Steve, so he pressed the button and the doorbell chimed.

"Kieren, yer alright, love?" Sue says to him upon answering the door and standing aside to let him in the house. "You're just in time, was about to puttle the kettle on for a brew. Would yer like one?"

"Sure, I'll have my usual, black with no tea please," he automatically says sarcastically. Ooops, it is not his mother his is annoyed at after all, so he tries again, "Sorry mum, just a bit stressed today. Dad in?"

Sue goes to make a pot of tea in the kitchen anyway instead of a one cup for herself and Kieren waits for her in the living room, making himself comfortable on the sofa in front of the TV showing BBC One's six o'clock news.

"He's still at work I'm afraid. Rang to say he was going to be a bit late tonight. Anything I can help with?" she calls back.

"No," he replies, picking up the remote control which now has working batteries again, to change the channel. "He and I had a bit of a barney yesterday and just thought I better come round to clear the air."

"Oh yeah?" Sue said, coming in a setting down the teapot on the coffee table, along with two mugs and a plate of chocolate digestive buscuits. "He never said 'owt to me."

Kieren is considering explaining when something on the television caught his attention. The BBC newsreader, Fiona Bruce, is saying something about Victus, so he turned the volume up to hear better.

"The Pro-Living party Victus is celebrating what they are calling "a major win for the rights of the living" tonight after their proposed bill to reconstitutionalise capital punishment in the UK and Northern Ireland was passed today," she read out from the autocue, an image of the Victus and ULA groups' logos superimposed on the screen beside her. "Our Political Editor Nick Robinson is at Parliament now. Nick?"

Nick Robinson is standing in front of The Houses of Parliament, infrequently gesturing animatedly with his hands as he spoke. "Introduced as a private bill and subject only to the Partially Deceased, it was passed on a free vote in the House of Commons by 253 votes to 45, with the House of Lords also passing it by an overwhelming majority of 304 votes to 4.

"This new law will give judges the ability to hand down the death penalty to treated PDS Sufferers who are found guilty of the murder or manslaughter of any living person. The bill was unprecedentedly fast tracked as a response to the Undead Liberation Army terrorist attack on a Sedfield tram six months ago, which was responsible for the deaths of thirteen people.

"But now the Anti-PDS party Victus has delivered a significant blow to the Government by saying enough is enough and we need to act now. They put forward this bill, fought hard for it, and today succeeded in bringing back capital punishment for treated PDS convicted of the crime of killing a living person intentionally or otherwise."

Sue puts her hand over her mouth as the outside broadcast ends, cutting back to Fiona Bruce in the studio, who takes up the next thread of the story.

"It was announced by a Victus Party official that the method of execution will take the form of lethal injection developed by Halperin & Weston Pharmaceuticals, who already manufacture the PDS drug Neurotriptyline, and will see convicted PDS Suffers taken from court and executed within 24 hours of sentence.

"As Nick stated in his report, the bill is in response to the terrorist attack in Sedfield earlier this year. Our Security Correspondent Frank Gardner is here."

Kieren and Sue exchanged worried glances with one another before turning their attention back to the television.

"Great Britain and Northern Ireland have been all too familiar with terrorist attacks over the past few decades," he says, standing with a walking frame for support in front of a graphic wall display, images changing as he speaks. "Many are still haunted by the IRA bombings of the 1970's and 80's, including Hyde Park and Regent's Park of 1982 and The Grand Hotel in Brighton two years later.

In 2005 Al Qaeda claimed responsibility for the 7/7 London bombings, which killed 52 people, but now The War On Terror has shifted its sights on to the British PDS terrorist group, known as the ULA, or Undead Liberation Army. This extremist group, whose stated goals include bringing about a Second Rising of the undead, is lead by a Partially Deceased Syndrome Sufferer who calls himself The Undead Prophet. His identity is unknown, but even so he has been climbing the ranks of the American Government's Most Wanted list.

"The ULA recruit followers via a password protected internet website and distributes the Rabid state inducing banned drug, Blue Oblivion, to PDS Sufferers not only up and down the country, but around the world, in order to carry out attacks on the living such as the Sedfield Metrolink and the aborted Eastford Shopping Centre.

"Now this new bill in the wake of these events makes sense you might say, so why is this so ground breaking?

"Well, for two reasons.

"Firstly, the death penalty has been abolished in Great Britain since 1965 and in Northern Ireland since 1973 and even then it was only handed down to those who were convicted of murder and not manslaughter. Victus argue that as PDS are only partially alive, they should not be granted equal human rights to the living population. They have already been given a second shot at life, so take away another's, and Victus says theirs should be forfeited.

"Secondly, and even more controversially, is the time in which the sentence is to be carried out. Once sentenced, those who are convicted will be transported to a new maximum-security unit at the Halperin & Weston headquarters in Norfolk and will be administered a lethal injection within a twenty-four hour period. As with executions in many states of America, the families of both the victim and the criminal will be invited to watch."

"Jesus Christ," Kieren utters, mainly to himself. "They're just never going to stop. It just gets worse and worse. They'll have us in work camps soon!"

Sue moves to sit next to her son and squeezes his hand as he continues to gaze ahead at the television. "Don't worry, love. It'll be alright. It's just shock tactics, that's all. And anyway, it's not like you'll be getting mixed up with all that anyway, so it won't effect yer."

"That's not the point, mum," Kieren exclaims, turning his livid eyes on her.

"I know, love, I know," she says, putting her arm around his shoulders like she did when he was upset as a child. "It'll be alright though, you'll see."

Kieren tried to smile a grim smile in return, but he found it hard to act as if he believed her words. Things were not alright and they were not likely to be alright again. In fact, just when he thought things might be looking up, they only ever seemed to take a turn for the worse.


Simon sits on the edge of the bed for some time, his head in his hands, trying to process his thoughts into an ordered manner. It does not escape his attention that he is on Kieren's side of the bed. He sits up and smooths the duvet free of wrinkles and looks toward the wardrobe ahead of him.

He is amazed at how everything could change in the matter of a few days and sitting in the Walker's living room, helping Kieren's father, while the most precious thing in this world to Simon was packing his belongs to start a life with him, could almost be a lifetime ago now.

His mind is a battleground with thoughts of conversations coursing through his memory. They jump from Julian, the camp site and the ULA, Vicar Sinclair's sermon, to Kieren and Simon's relationship potentially getting in the way of the Walker's family peace, and Amy's return, alive and well, miraculously cured of PDS and the leukaemia that killed her.

There was so much to be happy about, but also so much of the unknown to be feared and Simon had not idea how this was going to go. He knew one thing though; he could not just sit on the sidelines and watch as events unfold, or be played like a puppet with others pulling his strings to determine the outcome.

Since The Rising, he had been quite a different man to the one he once was when he was alive. For the most part this was all for the good, but the old Simon had the advantage of not caring about anything, so he made his decisions and tailored his actions to ensure the any result was what he most wanted. Now he did care, he cared a great deal and had one thing above all that he could not lose.

He thought back to living Simon Monroe; the depressive, the junkie. Perhaps it would not even be so far as to say, the sociopath, as it was after all, hard to empathise with other people when you could not even empathise with yourself. But that Simon knew how to get what he wanted and if this new Simon could harness that, just a little, and do good with it, then that would not be so bad. Would it?

The discussion Simon had had with Vicar Sinclair at St. Jude's on Sunday morning, had been enlightening, to say the least. He had wanted to speak to him after his sermon. Partly because something was nagging at his brain that this all did not quite fit, there was something familiar but at the same time totally new, and Simon could not put his finger on what that was. Yes, he had been inspired by the vicar's words and was surprised to notice they seem to have had a profound effect on Kieren also, but there was something more. Something from the past. But what was it? Perhaps speaking to him alone would shed a little further light on it and jog his memory.

"I'm glad you came," was the first thing Vicar Sinclair had said to Simon after he had disrobed from his ceremonial attire and headed straight for him at the back after the service.

Simon had smiled and politely taken his hand as offered, but he was more than a little suspicious of the man standing before him, so he started as he planned to continue, "Nice sermon. Do ye believe it?"

The vicar had simply nodded slowly. Simon was not the only one trying to size the other up. "Yes, I believe it. Do you?"

Simon looked into his eyes, trying to read a hidden message within them. "I don't know what to believe in anymore, Father."

"Well, let's start with what you did believe in," the vicar said, gesturing for them both to sit down in a pew at the back, "And go from there, shall we?"

"What did I believe in?" Simon asked himself, taking a seat. "That's a complicated question. It all depends on if ye mean before I died, or after I came back?"

The vicar said nothing, just waited for Simon to choose what he wanted to focus on, as that was likely the most important anyway, so Simon hesitantly continued.

"When I was alive I didn't believe much in anything. Except for that there was nothing much to believe in."

"And why was that?" The vicar probed further, not so much as blinking at the revelation. Probably heard this tale of woe a hundred times before.

"Dunno," Simon shrugged, "I don't."

"So what led you to feel that way, Simon?"

Was he going to tell this vicar the truth? It had come so easily when he told Kieren about his life six months before, but then at the time he was trying to convert him so the memories, still raw and painful, at least served a purpose. Simon had no such agenda now.

They do say the truth will set you free though - worth a shot at least. Best to get it over and done with in that case.

"I spent the best part of three decades feeling like this whole existence was just one big mistake, Father. No other reason other than that. I had no wrong done to me; no childhood trauma, nothing like that. I just always had this overwhelming notion that God must have been having an off day, ye know? Could practically imagine Him saying, "This'll be a crack" as He placed this germ called a human being on the earth."

The vicar remained silent - just listening - so Simon went on, letting his subconscious have a voice for once.

"But God always has a plan. That's what the Bible teaches us, no? So I came to realise that to make up for it, His punishment was to make us all walk on this treadmill of futility until we finally had sense enough to give up and rot away back to being dust in the dirt from which we came."

"Is that how you died? Did you end it for yourself, Simon?" Vicar Sinclair was a direct man, Simon liked that. At least you knew where you stood with a man like that.

"No, not intentionally, anyway. Probably would have been better if I had. They say suicide is the coward's way out; it's not. And I know you're probably going to tell me it's a sin in the eye's of God. But to make that sort of decision? To make a stand and say, "No more"? That takes courage. Courage I didn't have."

Simon shook his head at the decisions he chose, such a long time ago.

"It would have been better for me, for my family, had I taken that path. Instead I took another, the real coward's option."

"Recreational drugs." The vicar did not say the words as a question, but stated them instead.

"Recreational? Not exactly. But I did find sweet oblivion in the point of a needle. It was only a matter of time until the needle had the last laugh and one minute I'm on a dirty floor, tourniquet tied tightly around my arm, syringe in hand and when I next open my eyes..." Simon knew he did not need to finish the sentence, but finish it he did, "I woke up dead, so to speak."

The vicar looked contemplatively at him. It is hard to imagine for anyone living what the sensation is like. To be buried, not alive, but undead. It is the thing that bonds every single PDS Sufferer to one another. The thing that makes them closer than family in a way. You have to have experienced it for yourself to every truly understand it, and no matter how vivid an imagination someone has, they will only barely ever touch the surface (no pun intended).

Simon continues, "Buried in the earth, six foot down in a box and it's pitch black. All I know is I have to get out. Instinct compels me to escape. And when I do, it's like being born again. Everything feels like it's been washed clean somehow."

Simon looked up at the cross behind the altar, his eyes glossing over at the memory.

"That is exactly what I was speaking about," Vicar Sinclair reassured him, "Reborn a new. You have been given a gift from God, the mortal body made immortal. He does love you, Simon, and He showed you that by raising you from the dead and forgiving you your sins."

Simon laughed at this, but the sound was hollow and had no humour in it. "Ye missed out a bit though, Father, in your sermon. The part where your sins follow you into the next life to claim their payment. When I came back, I did some things that I don't deserve to be forgiven for. I can't forgive myself for."

The vicar nodded in understanding, but was not insensitive as to ask the nature of the sins Simon alluded to.

"When a child is born, they are innocent. It is up to the rest of us to show them the way. After The Rising, no one guided or helped those who had been redeemed. On the third day, when Jesus rose from…"

"Forgive me, Father, but I don't remember reading anywhere in the Bible that after the stone was rolled away from His tomb, Jesus then killed those closest to him."

"Well, certainly not in the Gospels, but it might well crop up in the Gnostics," Vicar Sinclair joked, unmoved by the horrific picture Simon painted.

"After the…," Simon paused then, there was no accurate way of describing what he went through, so he settled on the conventional term instead, "treatment, The Undead Liberation Army found me and showed me that I could have a purpose. And after that? Well, then I could see a point to it all. I never had that in my first life; people who believed in me and gave me something to believe. And that's all I'd ever wanted; all I'd ever needed, I guess. I'd have done anything for it. Still would."

"I understand you were close to the one they call the Undead Prophet. You were a disciple of his? Is this right?"

"I was," Simon agreed, although he knew he had probably said too much already.

"But not anymore?" Vicar Sinclair pressed and Simon shook his head. "Why not? What changed?"

"If I'm honest, I think I just needed to belong. They accepted me and showed me love, but..."

The vicar looked intrigued for the first time during their conversation. Eager to hear the rest of the sentence, he pushed Simon on, "But?"

"But that love was on a condition."

Simon thought back to the ULA and how they had turned their backs on him the second he had not done what they wanted him to do. When he spoke next, it was as if he was speaking to himself, the vicar's presence next to him all but forgotten.

"It's a strange term, unconditional love. I never really understood it before. I must have heard it a thousand times; how a mother loves her child unconditionally, or God loves us no matter our sins. But understanding the meaning and then coming to experience it yourself are quite different things." He looked up ahead of him at the stained glass windows. His eyes roamed over the brightly coloured vision of Jesus on the cross, and then moved slowly over to his three mourners below. Suddenly, the image meant so much more to him and his next words came out as little more than a whisper, "Then in one moment, one single second, I comprehended it exactly."

Simon found himself standing once again behind the dry stone wall of the new cemetery, bone cutter in hand, waiting for the church clock to chime twelve - the twelfth hour of the twelfth day of the twelfth month, just as the prophecy had stated. He was watching his target, The First Risen, whom he had been instructed to kill by the Undead Prophet to trigger The Second Rising.

Kieren was rabid on Blue Oblivion, approaching his father who held the naive belief that his son would not hurt him even in such a state. There was a crowd gathered and his sister Jem and one of the other villagers, Pearl Pinder, both had guns trained on Kieren, ready at any moment to fire if he started to attack.

It should have been easy. Simon could have plunged the knife into the back of Kieren's skull and no one would have condemned him for it. He could have claimed to be protecting the living, even be revered as a hero in doing so.

But Kieren was fighting the rabid inducing drug, and Simon had never seen anyone fight the effects of Blue Oblivion before.

Kieren was special. He was incredible.

Simon looked down at the knife in his hand. He knew a world without Kieren, even if that world had experienced The Second Rising, was not a world he could bare to exist in. No Rising was worth Kieren's life and no belief, no matter how strong, was worth killing him for.

"Got yer!" Gary Kendal was on him, a hunting blade against his throat.

Kieren's hands were on Steve's shoulders when Simon next looked back at the scene playing out in front of them. His body shaking, he had raised his head to look at his father, but Pearl was advancing. She was going to take action thinking she was saving Steve's life and Simon knew in that moment, he had run out of time.

He had to make a choice. Right then. The ULA or Kieren Walker?

He chose.

"I didn't care about myself, I just needed to keep him safe. There was a fifty-fifty chance if I got between that bullet and Kieren, it would hit my torso and we would both walk away unharmed. Then again, it could have just as easily found its way just a few inches higher and they would be putting me back in that box again, for good this time."

Simon could still hear the sound of the gun firing when he threw himself in front of Kieren. What must have been a fraction of a second had lingered on for so long, until he finally felt the impact of the bullet as it penetrated his back.

"It really didn't matter to me. And that's when I realised! My first life and my second, all of it and none of it, significant and utterly insignificant, because he changed everything and I finally understood the purpose of existence.' Simon let himself smile, just a little. "It's what my soul had been crying out for all along, Father. Not for any belief; some disconnected deity or righteous cause. All those thoughts, the piercing pain of depression, he made it all go away. He is what my soul needed along."

Vicar Sinclair eyes softened toward him and he laid a hand on Simon's shoulder. "So, what you're saying is, love made you whole?"

Simon laughed in earnest, looking down into his lap. "Sounds like a song lyric, right?"

"It's what we all spend our lives searching for, Simon. Nothing wrong with that. Do you know the book of Genesis very well?"

"Ye mean Adam and Eve?"

Oh Lord, he was not going to start with the homosexuality is a sin lecture? How God made women to be with man, not man to be with man. Simon had certainly heard all that before and knew well the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah in Genesis.

"I was thinking more of Abraham being tested," the vicar corrected.

"Then God said, "Take your son, your only son, whom you love – Isaac - and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on a mountain I will show you," Simon recited from memory to the vicar's surprise.

"Like I said, Father, I was brought up a Catholic. Unlike the Church of England, we have to actually learn the Bible." Simon gave the vicar a wink, before continuing, "He bound him and laid him on the altar, then reached out his hand and took the knife to slay his son. But the angel of the Lord called out to him from heaven and said, "Do not lay a hand on the boy, do not do anything to him. Now I know that you fear God, because you have not withheld from me your son."

There was silence between the two men for a moment, until at length Vicar Sinclair spoke again.

"Most people believe that God was testing Abraham to see if he would actually kill his own son, as a test of his loyalty, but I don't see it that way. I think He was trying to teach Abraham the value of love. Love for God Himself and love for his son by being forced to make an impossible decision between the two. God did not want a human sacrifice; that was for the Pagan deities. No, God was showing Abraham the things that were most important to him and teaching him how to make his soul whole."

He squeezed Simon's shoulder and stood up from the pew then. "Simon, God moves in mysterious ways, as I'm sure you already know."

Simon could do little but nod back. He felt a little adrift all of a sudden. He had not gone into detail as to how he had come to save Kieren or more importantly what his original purpose was for him to be at that cemetery in the first place. In retrospect, Vicar Sinclair's final words seemed more apt than he could possibly know.

"Yes, He certainly does, Father."

Simon did not know if that was what the Undead Prophet had intended all along. Perhaps by putting Kieren in danger, and while still thinking he was The First Risen, was the only way to ensure Simon would truly protect him?

When Julian had given him the bone cutter a second time, Simon had assumed it was for him to finish the job at a later date determined by them. But what if it was simply a weapon of protection? He had to find out.

What did the ULA want from him?

He was never going to harm Kieren, that was for certain and if they did want that, well he would sacrifice himself first. He would go to the camp site and confront Julian, it was the only way he could be sure.

His mind now made up, he opens the wardrobe doors, crouching down to reach behind Kieren's empty suitcase that was stored on the floor at the front. After reaching around in the dark recesses his fingers finally touch upon the instrument case, and wrapping his hand around it he pulls it out, accidentally knocking over a shoebox he had not noticed hidden at the back.

The lid opened and the contents spilled onto the floor. Cursing, Simon bent to pick them up and put it back where it was stored, but something caught his eye.

They were mainly photos, some letters and a small white envelope with a 'K' and a circle around it. The postcard inside was partially poking out of the envelope and Simon pulls it out slowly to see a print of a Vincent Van Gogh self-portrait on it. He turned the card over before he even thought as to what he was doing. His eyes roaming over the hand written note, that read,

Dear Ren,

Know this guy is your fave.

You're gonna go far.

And I'll be right there next to you, telling dumb jokes and embarrassing you.

This shite with my Dad.

I'll sort it.

Swear I will.

Rick X

Simon carefully replaces the card in the envelope and gathers the photographs up. They are all photos of Kieren and Rick Macy at different ages. In every one they are smiling and posing for the camera.

They are always close. Always happy. Always together.

And it hurts.

It really fucking hurts!

Simon knew about Rick, of course he knew. Amy had told him before he and Kieren even met. Kieren himself had even confided in him, but all with the pretense that it was in the past.

Rick was dead, after all - for the second time - and not like Amy. Bullets to the head, a knife through the back of the skull, there is no coming back from that. So why hide it?

Simon had approached the subject only days before. Kieren had said he was moving on, that it was over - he was over it – and that he was with Simon now, body and soul. And Simon had believed him.

Kieren had Simon's body, his mind, his heart and his soul, but looking at what Kieren had tried to hide from him now, Simon wondered exactly what he really had of Kieren's?

The pain coursed through his veins like a match to gasoline, exploding in his still heart and pounding on it as if willing it to beat. If it had, he would have ripped it from his chest in that very moment. He knew this feeling only too well, and it scared Simon to death, at the thought of going back there.


AUTHOR'S NOTES:

The one thing I found fascinating with the introduction of Simon in series 2, was seeing a different side to Kieren. Dominic Mitchell stated that Simon and Kieren do not love each other quite yet -although I personally feel, reading the script and seeing the final episode of the second series, that Simon may have just got there by the Beating of the Bounds March. He also said that Simon is far more into Kieren than the other way around as Kieren only "fancied" Simon - where Emmett Scanlan was quoted in Gay Times as saying Simon was "infatuated with Kieren from the off." This got me thinking that the very fact that Kieren makes a pass at Simon in the third episode of series 2, knowing how much Amy liked him (okay, so Simon is gay so she had no chance with him anyway, but that's beside the point) he still risked hurting his best friend for nothing more than fancying someone. That's quite ground breaking for Kieren, who always does the right thing and never acts selfishly. With that in mind, concealing certain aspects of himself from Simon I felt was something Kieren could therefore be capable of. Nobody is perfect, after all, as Henry Lonsdale pointed out.

So, what do we really know about Simon Monroe. To my thinking, not a lot. We have a pretty good handle on Kieren of course, being he's the main character after all, and Amy is pretty much an open book. Even Rick, despite only appearing in two episodes we learn a lot about who he is, what makes him tick and his past. But we don't know a huge amount about Simon's past or who he really is deep down. We know he had depression and took the "A-Z of the periodic table" as a drug addict while he was still alive. We know he was the first to respond the Halperin & Weston's drugs, and when he was rabid he came home and killed his mother which his father could not forgive him for. But really that is it, and it's not much. Simon is such a complex character, which you can see in the series without the knowledge of hi back story, so I'm interested to find out exactly who he is. Emmett Scanlan usually plays a certain type of character. Often the anti-hero, but more often than not, a sociopath who sometimes comes good, sometimes not, going off the rails completely. His body of work is quite interesting as he does play a certain type. Could Simon also be this type? I'm not sure, but I do want to find out.

I'm also very torn between Simon and Rick as to who I think Kieren is best suited to. I watch series 2 and he and Simon just fit, but then I watch series 1 again and Kieren and Rick are Roarton's answer to Romeo and Juliet. The first love tragic love story is very compelling, so I'm still on the fence. If Kieren doesn't want Simon though, I'd be more than happy to take him off his hands!

On a final note, well done everyone who supported the #SaveInTheFlesh campaign, looks like it made quite an impact. Fingers crossed the BBC take the hint and recommission In The Flesh for a third series.