Disclaimer: I don't own Misfits. Includes strong language.

The reviews were much appreciated :)

In the two weeks that had stumbled by since Nathan's death, Kelly had found it difficult to smile. The DVD Simon had made for her helped a little, but when the screen turned black it always left her with nothing but a gnawing hole in her stomach and the knowledge of that cold finality that meant Nathan was gone for good. The world was quieter without him, emptier. As if not only Nathan, but half the living things on the planet had vanished too to leave nothing but silence. Panting benches and cleaning fences for most of the day didn't help to focus her mind - the paint would run between her fingers and only serve to remind her of that sticky red substance that had covered her hands at that terrible moment. And so instead she sat and stared at nothing and tried to bully herself into doing something useful, while Simon picked up the slack for her.

He had changed in the last few days. He wasn't caring - his eyes still harboured thoughts that she didn't want to know, and he always made sure to keep a short distance from anyone and anything around him, and his pale bony hands clenched tightly over whatever he was holding in a death grip - but he was certainly sensitive to her moods. Sometimes he would intentionally screw up his face and thing 'You okay?' and wait for her to nod before returning to his tasks. His behaviour was unexpected, but not necessarily unwelcome. Curtis, too, was understanding, but seemed to want to keep his distance, as if worried if he came to close or prodded some raw nerve she would spit venom at him.

Alisha was a little less gentle.

"For god's sake, will you stop moping!" she burst out, flinging her hands up in the air. "Are you just gonna be like this forever? You're pissing me off so much right now!"

She shook off Curtis' restraining hand, still glaring at Kelly angrily. "Come on," she demanded. "Just get over it, will you?"

Normally, Kelly would have fired back an insult. Or engaged in a bitch-slapping fight. Or just silenced the other girl with a look. But these days she didn't have the stomach for it. Instead, she just ignored her, picking at the ring on her left hand, staring at the concrete between her feet. She could hear Simon feeling uneasy, unsure whether to speak up or not. He would wait and see if Alisha said anything else, and then say something. She didn't. Relieved, he returned to his work. She wanted to tell him how much of a wimp he was, but she didn't. She listened to Curtis wonder if things were going to be this socially awkward all the time from now on, or whether she would get taken off by some community grief counsellor.

"I don't need a counsellor," she mumbled icily.

Curtis blinked, and then shrugged guiltily. "Sorry. Maybe... never mind."

Alisha groaned loudly, stood, and swept away with her hands in her pockets and her lip curled. Kelly watched her leave, and then realized with a jolt that Curtis was thinking about Nathan. Something about what he might have said in this kind of situation, how he would have made it funny or brush the argument off. And, without warning, she felt her eyes sting. She leapt to her feet so quickly that Simon flinched, and strode off in the opposite direction to Alisha as fast as she could. She didn't look back, but she could feel their eyes boring into her like lasers. She had started crying before she was even around the corner.

Curtis watched her go, cursing himself silently. He should have been more careful; of course thinking about Nathan would upset her. He sighed heavily and pushed both hands over his head, closing his eyes. Since Nathan's death none of them had really fallen back into their normal routine. For a moment, they had all been indestructible with their super powers and youth. It had just been so unexpected, so surreal, that one of them should just die without any kind of warning or explanation. And died whilst for the first time in his life not acting like a complete idiot. He lowered his hands and looked at Simon, now the only person left. Simon was watching the corner Kelly had vanished around, his mouth hanging open, his eyebrows angled sharply upwards. He had become more clingy around her over the last few days, though she didn't seem to care.

"Not getting over it, is she?" Curtis said, more to breach the silence than anything else.

Simon blinked at him. "No," he said simply.

Curtis resisted the urge to roll his eyes and leant his elbows on his knees. The bench beneath him, only half painted, had only ever seen Simon's work since they had been assigned to the area. The rest of them just didn't have the heart to do such mundane tasks, or perhaps simply wouldn't have bothered anyway. Simon himself didn't seem to care. He sat on his heels and stabbed at the bench absently with his brush, brow furrowed, eyes narrowed. Curtis pulled out his mobile, played with it for a few minutes, returned it to his pocket. He didn't feel like going after Alisha just yet - she would return on her own when she wanted to. And the lack of contact between them made comforting her infinitely more difficult.

"You visited Nathan yet?" Simon suddenly spoke up, his voice so unanticipated that it took Curtis a few moments to work out what he had said.

"Oh," he said eventually, when Simon looked up quizzically. "Uh, yeah. Went once or twice. Why?"

Simon opened his mouth, and then shut it again. He rolled the brush between the palms of his hands, thinking hard. From his crouched position on the ground he looked like some kind of very serious monkey, deliberating whether or not to step into a lions den. Then he spoke again, answering Curtis' enquiry with another question.

"You ever... you know, heard anything there?"

The conversation was only getting stranger with each passing second. Curtis blinked at Simon for a while before replying, trying to work out just what it was the other boy was trying to ask him. Whatever it was seemed to be important, not that Simon ever seemed to like speaking aloud in public. But his questions were cryptic and random, their meaning flying straight past Curtis' head.

"What, you mean like other people? Or animals or... What?"

Simon looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Like... shouting," he mumbled, casting his gaze at the walls to their left rather than at Curtis.

"Shouting?"

"Yeah. Like coming from..." he jerked his head downwards instead of finishing.

Curtis stared. Simon met his gaze, paled, and looked away once more quickly, as if the sky had suddenly become extremely interesting. Curtis searched for something to say that wouldn't sound bad, came up with nothing, and threw caution to the winds.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's just... Will you come to visit him with me?" Simon asked suddenly, his face clearing. "Just five minutes after we're done here? Just for a minute."

"Why?"

"So you can check something."

"Check something?"

Simon just looked at him, pleading silently, his mouth a thin line. Curtis, perplexed, huffed and pulled his gaze away. Alisha had appeared at the corner and was leaning against the wall, looking at him, wanting to talk. Her face was pale and tight. He didn't have to be able to read minds to know that she was regretting what she had said to Kelly, and was too proud to go and apologise. He nodded to her, rose to his feet.

"Curtis?"

"Fine. I'll come, okay? Five minutes."

Simon relaxed, a smile spreading over his face. "Thanks."

Curtis shook his head and moved over towards Alisha, leaving Simon alone by the bench. Perhaps everything Nathan had said about the other boy was true - every time he spoke his words came out small and strange, like aliens in his own mouth. What on earth was Curtis letting himself in for?

Nathan had never had a panic attack before. He had panicked plenty of times before, raged and swore until he turned blue in the face, but he had never hyperventilated so hard that he suffocated two hours earlier than usual. Or perhaps he was starving to death; stabs of pain were screaming from his stomach like angry snakes coursing through his body. He didn't want to know how he looked right now, shivering and coated in sweat and struggling to breathe in a coffin that was rapidly turning into his lifelong prison. He didn't want to see himself reduced to such a pathetic mess, a hopeless, shuddering, terrified kid locked away forever. But this had all stopped being funny a long time ago.

He pretended not to notice when tears carved their slow way over his pounding temples and his chest jerked in a dry sob. He wasn't the sort of guy who burst into tears like this. God, if Kelly could see him now she would be disgusted. She would laugh. They would all laugh - smart-arse Nathan revealed as nothing but a sniffling baby. Did they think about him? Would they ever bother to visit his new home? Could his hoarse, cracked screams and yells be heard through all those layers of soil? Doubtful. No, all he had for company now was his own mind and thundering heart, screaming over and over I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this I can't do thisIcan'tdothisIcan'tdothisshiiiiiiiiit.

His hands had gone numb and his lungs were clenching tightly, folding in on themselves as if betraying him. He would never stop being terrified of this moment, this second when his jokes and comebacks couldn't save him and he felt his body die around him, powerless to stop it. If anything each time only struck more terror into his gut, sent his head reeling as he struggled against the darkness looming in on him teasingly.

"Fuck, not again!" he moaned as his body stopped shivering, his heart juddered in his chest. "For fuck's sake! I don't fucking want to!"

And this time when he became aware again, maybe hours, seconds, or days later, when his body began to tremble and sting and ache to let him know that he was alive once more, he didn't move. He counted to ten. Shouted for a bit. Paused. Counted to ten. Shouted again. Paused. Why bother? It was clear that nobody was going to come for him, not even superhoodie. Not even Kelly. His hands were freezing, blocks of ice lying heavy on his stomach. His head was a foggy, leaden, throbbing pain. His chest seared repetitively, as if poking him again and again, letting him know he was still there, still instinctively fighting to breathe, still begging to die. He just wanted it all to be over. He just wanted it all to end.

But he kept shouting.

Curtis walked a couple of feet behind Simon as they made their way to the graveyard. Evening was setting into the air and sky, and he shivered as the wind tugged at him. His promise to accompany Simon to a 'visit' was beginning to look more and more like a bad idea and less and less like a simple good deed. What on earth did Simon want anyway? What business did he have dragging people out into the graveyard when it was cold and dark like this? Why couldn't he have just asked Kelly to come with him? She seemed to have a much better bond with him than Curtis did. All he wanted to do was throw his hands up, tell Simon to forget it and get a life, and go home. Maybe drop by Alisha's on the way. But he kept his mouth shut. Five minutes, Simon had said. He could bear to stand here for five minutes, surely.

When they finally did reach the graveyard, it was empty of life. Whatever other visitors had long gone home. Curtis' shoes caught at unseen rocks and tangled in long grass as he struggled through the dimness after Simon, who glided through the graves as if he did this every day. Well, perhaps he did. Curtis felt like laughing at himself. Look at him, wandering through a graveyard like some lost idiot. They reached Nathan's grave - or at least, Simon stopped beside a gravestone that looked vaguely familiar - and Curtis folded his arms tightly against the cold and grumbled at the mud that had streaked his jeans.

"What, then?" he said, perhaps a little more brusquely than he had intended. "What do you want me to check?"

Simon put his finger to his lips, and then knelt down. Curtis winced - the boy wasn't going to ask him to pray or something, was he? But no, instead Simon hunched over and pressed his ear against the ground, in a rather comical impression of a red indian. Curtis let out a short laugh, shaking his head.

"Simon, what are you...? Come on, man, if this is some practical joke I'm leaving."

"Be quiet for a minute," Simon mumured.

Curtis cast his eyes skywards but obeyed. He waited, glancing around the graveyard, looking at his watch, wondering what Alisha was doing at that moment. Perhaps he should text her. Simon suddenly sat bolt upright, his face rigid.

"Okay," he said seriously. "There. It's there."

"What is?"

Simon beckoned. Curtis snorted. "Simon, I'm not lying down in the mud. We look enough like freaks as it is. Will you just tell me what's going on?"

"Please, just do it. You have to hear this."

Curtis shifted from foot to foot, looked all around once more. No one was there. No one to see him. If this was some strange prank, it would be between Simon and himself. Swearing softly, he knelt down in the mud. Its coldness bit through his jeans and he scowled.

"What?"

"Listen."

Sighing heavily, Curtis bent his head. He didn't let his ear touch the ground, just leant close enough to satisfy Simon's gaze. He waited. He listened. He frowned. He sat up, looked around, then bent down again and pressed his ear against the slimy grass, his brow furrowed. He listened again to the dull, muffled, hardly audible mumbling.

"What... what is that?" he breathed, suddenly on edge.

Simon shook his head. "I had a couple of theories," he said softly.

Curtis listened as the sounds stopped for a while, and the started up again. Too irregular to be any kind of machine or pipe. Almost as if somebody was yelling, shouting from the other side of a brick wall.

"What the hell is it?" he repeated incredulously. "This is... god."

"I didn't want to tell Kelly," Simon said hesitantly. "Just in case I was wrong."

Curtis stared at him, and then shook his head violently. "No. Come on, Simon! We all saw him die, we saw it. This is ridiculous."

"We never did find out what his power was."

Curtis let out a short, high-pitched laugh and then clamped his lips shut tightly. He stared at the grass, imagined the coffin beneath, imagined where those sounds were coming from. He shook his head once more. It was insane. Both he and Simon must be hallucinating, imagining things. Powers like speeding through time or reading minds or turning invisible were one thing. Coming back from the dead just seemed to be on an entirely different level.

"Well, what do you want to do?" he said at last, spreading his hands. "You want to dig him up or something to check? For god's sake!"

"No, no, that would be weird," Simon said quickly, his eyes wide.

Silence stretched between them for a few moments. Curtis didn't look at him. He glanced at his watch once more.

"I can't believe I'm... god."

"But what if we're right?" Simon whispered.

Curtis hung his head. Then he rose heavily to his feet. "I'll get some shovels," he said thickly. "You stay here, make sure no one comes in. Say its closed today or something. Its late anyway."

And with that he turned and headed towards the community centre with a plan in mind that was crazier than anything he had done in his life so far. Crazier even than turning back time. He was about to dig up a grave to check that his dead friend was, in fact, dead.

Reviews are welcome, hope you enjoyed it.

SUPRNTRAL LVR.