Well, I'm back! Bet y'all thought I was dead xD

Chapter 3's here, wooooooo! This time in Broken Masks- awkward family dinners and SHOCKING confessions! Hope you enjoy :D

A note on zombie biology: those of you who've read my other Siren fic 'Sense Memory' know that in there I wrote it with the assumption that they have very limited feeling (kind of numb, like when fall asleep on your arm?). I wrote that after episode 5 in which Amy told Philip she couldn't feel a thing. As I began writing this we'd just had episode 3 in which there was plenty to suggest that they actually did have some sense of feeling (hot zombie make-outs ringing any bells?), not to mention in episode 4 Kieren talked about feeling rain on his fingers and stuff, so basically forget my undead biology from that other fic 'cause it doesn't apply here! (although I'm afraid you're not gonna get any detailed zombie sex no matter how much they can supposedly feel in this fic- sorry, guys, but a smut write I ain't :/ I can give you mild emotional steaminess at best! So yeah, that's gonna happen soon ;) )

Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: In The Flesh and all it's characters belong to Dominic Mitchell and BBC3. Song lyrics belong to the lovely Gabrielle Aplin. Direct quotes taken from the show belong to the original writers, I make no profit from this story and write it purely out of love for the series! :3

"Is there something I'm not seeing?

Something you're not telling me

'Cause I've been hearing different stories

And I don't know what to believe

Is there a reason I'm not healing

Or am I learning from this pain?

I have a little trouble kneeling

I don't know what to believe"

-'Ready To Question', Gabrielle Aplin

"Are you sure you want me there?" Simon asked, genuine concern in his voice.

Kieren lowered his hand, his fingers still stained with the cover-up he'd been blending across the older man's face in an attempt to make it look less like it had been slathered on with a trowel. He looked slightly better, but Kieren couldn't get used to the lack of snowy white skin, and the brown contacts he'd secretly borrowed from Amy's case didn't suit him at all. Kieren wondered what colour his eyes had been before he'd died- green, maybe? Or blue.

"Kieren?" Simon said quietly, watching the blond man's face carefully.

Kieren shrugged off thoughts of Simon's eyes and tried to muster an honest answer to the question. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite sure what the answer was. He did want Simon there, of course he did- with all the shit he'd been getting from pretty much every other Roarton resident in the past week it was starting to feel like Simon was the only person (living or dead) that he could talk to, however weird and messed up that seemed. Having him around would certainly alleviate the tedium of another family dinner- maybe if he had someone else there his parents wouldn't insist that he pretend to eat? He still hadn't found the words or the guts to tell them just how unhelpful that whole charade was to him.

On the other hand… well, what would his parents think of him? What would Simon think of them? Would they just assume that he and Simon were nothing more than workmates or would his mum see right through that and spend the afternoon quietly sizing up his new boyfriend (which was still weird to say, or even think for that matter)? How would Simon react when he saw the way the Walkers treated Kieren's condition- like it didn't exist? Would he accept it and move on or would it set him off? There were too many variables, Kieren felt his throat clench up just considering it. Simon was still waiting for an answer. He did the first thing he could think of.

"If you don't want to come, it's not too late to back out," he said, neatly turning the conversation on its head and hating himself for it, burying his smudged hands in his pockets.

Simon frowned at him. That wasn't what he'd meant, and Kieren knew it. But he couldn't for the (un)life of him provide an honest answer to the original question so he'd turned it round. He could tell that Simon was annoyed at him for interpreting his honest concern as cowardice, and the Irish man turned his face away from him with a scowl.

"Can you stop saying that, please? I'm fine, I'm completely relaxed," he said with his jaw clenched a little tighter than a 'perfectly relaxed' person's technically should be. He caught sight of something up ahead and his eyes widened. "Is that your dad? Shit."

Despite his misgivings, Kieren couldn't help smiling at Simon's panicked expression. This must have been the first time he'd seen the man looking truly nervous. He decided to help him out. "Say you like his jeans."

Simon looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "What?"

He didn't have time to enquire further as Steve caught sight of them, straightening up from where he'd been tending the front lawn and watching them draw closer, looking in confusion at Simon. He had probably been expecting Amy. Kieren quickly stepped in with introductions before it could get more awkward.

"Simon, this is my dad, Steve," he said, smiling at his dad reassuringly.

"Hi, Steve," Simon greeted gruffly, extending his hand. Steve shook it, smiling but still bemused. When they separated Simon smiled uneasily and gestured downwards with his arms. "Like your jeans."

Steve glanced down and smiled, pleasantly surprised by the compliment. "Thanks very much," he said, chuffed. He ushered them into the house with a smile, and Simon glanced at Kieren with a grin followed shortly by a frown- a look that was equal parts 'look, I did what you said and it worked!' and 'I can't believe you had me say that'. Kieren shrugged at him and led the way in.

"Sue!" Steve called as they entered, Kieren's mum turning to look from her position by the dining table. "Kieren's brought a mate back. Simon."

"Very nice!" Sue said brightly, although she seemed confused. She must have been expecting Amy, too. She shot Kieren a questioning look, and in a moment of panic he desperately tried to recall if he'd fixed his own cover-up after he'd kissed Simon outside the bungalow. Surely Simon would tell him if it was smudged around his lips… wouldn't he?

"Hello Sue!" Simon said politely, even mustering a smile. "Thanks for having me."

"Lovely to have you," Sue replied graciously. She and Steve stood side by side, surveying the odd couple before them.

Oh, fuck, do we look like a couple? Jesus, stop panicking.

After an awkward five seconds that could have easily been five years, Steve cleared his throat and smiled at the uneasy Irish man. "Well, I hope you like lunch, Simon!"

Simon looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up. "Uh, sure…" he said diplomatically, obviously unsure of whether he should point out his condition or just go along with the charade. Maybe he'd even mime eating for Kieren's sake? Something about the thought rubbed Kieren the wrong way- Simon had already left enough of his principles by the roadside when he'd put on his cover-up and contacts, and he'd done it for Kieren. Regardless of whether Kieren had agreed with those principles in the first place, he'd respected them. He wouldn't make Simon give up any more of himself for the sake of a family dinner. Besides, he didn't particularly want to mime in front of Simon, either- Christ, he'd never live it down.

"It's definitely in his top three meals we don't eat," Kieren said sarcastically.

Okay, so perhaps he could have phrased it better. His parents shifted about awkwardly. Simon gaped at him for a few seconds before turning to give the elder Walkers a slightly embarrassed smile. To Kieren's immense relief, they smiled back.

"Well… no time like the present, eh?" Steve said, nodding to Sue as the two of them disappeared into the kitchen to prepare the food.

Simon smiled at them until they were out of sight, then turned to Kieren with a frown. "Smooth."

"It would have been awkward whatever I'd said," Kieren said dismissively, biting his lip and smiling. "You lot just bonded."

"What?" Simon asked, confused.

"I saw that little smile- the three of you, bonding over embarrassment," he said with a grin. "Maybe I should just make more tactless jokes, give you lot some common ground."

Simon chuckled lightly, checking the door Kieren's parents had exited through before lifting his hand to Kieren's neck. "Every little helps, eh?"

Kieren smiled, leaning in and pressing a lightning fast kiss to the older man's lips, before pulling away and moving to his place at the table. For a moment, he actually felt like the day could get better.

The moment didn't last long.

"This is nice," Simon said, and actually sort of meaning it. "Thank you."

The Walkers nodded in agreement. He felt Kieren's hand settle lightly on his knee and had to bite back a giddy smile. There was still plenty of awkwardness to go around, of course, but it was nice. Kieren's parents seemed okay (despite being neck-deep in denial of their son's condition), and they'd welcomed him into their home with relative ease. His eyes flickered to Steve. Certainly not the most intimidating father he'd ever seen. Especially not now, chatting about beef with a smile on his face while his undead son and dinner guest nodded along dutifully.

"How's the fish?" a tentative voice asks, haggard face observing him.

"It's good," a false smile as he picks half-heartedly at the food he can't eat. "Thanks, Dad."

"This haddock's a bit tough…" he says. He won't look at him now.

Simon shrugged the memory away. It wasn't helpful. He focused on the feeling of Kieren's hand on his leg and dragged himself back to reality with a smile as Steve continued his ramble.

"…Which, if previous experience is anything to go by, means any time between now and midnight!" he said jokily in explanation of his daughter's absence. He looked between the people at the table- the woman waiting to eat and the two men who weren't- and smiled awkwardly. "No point letting it get cold," he said, moving to dish out the food.

Simon nodded understandingly, keeping the smile plastered to his face. This wasn't awkward. Sitting next to his sort-of secret boyfriend, watching said boyfriend's parents eat while sitting rigidly to the side with nothing in front of him and nothing to do with his hands. Of course, what he'd really like to be doing with his hands right now involved the blond man beside him and would probably be inappropriate in present company. Better save it. Yep, definitely not awkward.

…Of course it was awkward. He rolled his shoulders slightly, leaning his hands on the table and clearing his throat, smiling pleasantly at Kieren's dad. "So, Steve, how did you and Sue meet?" he asked politely. That was the kind of question you asked people, right? To get the conversation rolling.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be the right question to ask with the Walkers. Steve's face fell, and there was a moment of tense silence before he answered. "Work," he said briskly, returning to his meal without offering further explanation.

Feeling confused (not to mention terrified that he may have inadvertently stepped on some kind of land mine), Simon turned to Sue for an explanation.

"Work," she answered just as quickly, although she at least threw in a smile to put him at ease. He appreciated the effort, although he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just unknowingly made some kind of monumental faux pas where the Walker family was concerned. He had just resolved to never, ever open his mouth again when Sue continued. "What about the two of you?"

Simon was too busy wondering what Sue meant by comparing him and Kieren to her and Steve in a question to offer an answer. Fortunately, Kieren was ready with a grateful smile and a reply. "Oh, same. Work."

Sue and Steve nodded, and the table fell silent once more. Simon realised he should probably just let it stay that way. That would probably be best. Just sit quietly. No more words.

"I liked the way he gave back," he said.

Why?

Steve stopped chewing, glancing between Simon and Kieren wordlessly. Sue smiled uncomfortably before diving back into her meal with renewed vigour. Simon could have sworn he saw the barest flicker of a smile on Kieren's face at the unintentional innuendo, but it was quite quickly replaced by mortification as he lifted his hand from Simon's leg surreptitiously.

Fuck fuck fuck.

He was about to make an attempt to scavenge the situation, but fortunately the doorbell rang and Steve practically leapt to answer it.

Saved by the bell. Literally.

As he watched Kieren's disappointed face and once again vowed to never speak in front of his family again for the rest of his extended undead life, the silence was broken by the tread of multiple pairs of feet by the door, followed by the sound of playful scuffling. He turned his head and cursed inwardly as he realised who Kieren's little sister had brought home with her.

Gary laughed with Jem as he shucked off her coat and flung it on the sofa. Their laughter died in their throats as they noticed who was sitting beside Kieren.

As Steve awkwardly introduced them, Simon considered getting up and leaving. He weighed up the pros and cons of just punching the bastard out right then and there. He calculated things he could say or do to get the ignorant sod to leave of his own accord.

Then he caught sight of Kieren's face. Sad, resigned. He was probably expecting something to kick off. Maybe he thought Simon would get up and leave him alone with his family and the unwelcome interloper. It was a reasonable assumption, it had been hard enough to sign him off on dinner with his family- an ill-mannered ex-HVF thug was never mentioned in the bargain.

With an inward sigh, Simon stood up and extended his hand. "Alright," he greeted the man neutrally. After a tense moment of consideration, Gary reached out and shook it.

Simon wished he had a camera so he could capture the look of surprise on Kieren's face.

They all sat down, Simon reclaiming his spot beside Kieren and regarding the brute across the table from him coolly, carefully pretending not to see the bastard wiping his hand on his jeans. Any other day he'd take pleasure in taking the man down a peg. Not today, not with Kieren next to him, silently pleading that everyone get along for a bit. This was no time to make a scene.

"There we are. More the merrier!" Steve said cheerily, in an attempt to cut through the heavy atmosphere of hostility at the table.

"Plenty to go round," Sue said, smiling as she set an extra place for Gary.

"Yeah, well- there would be, wouldn't there?" Jem chortled, and she and Gary burst into giggles.

Drunk as a skunk, the pair of them, Simon realised with annoyance. He'd never even met Kieren's sister before but already he could tell that Kendal was a bad influence on her. If she had any sense she'd drop him sooner rather than later.

Sue began shovelling food onto their plates, and still they giggled at their own not-so-private joke. Simon narrowed his eyes, regarding them steadily.

"Shall we keep it cool, guys," he said in a low voice, glancing at Sue. "While we're here?"

"No problem this end, pal," Gary said nonchalantly. Jem seized the opportunity to pinch several roast potatoes from his plate while he was distracted. "Oi! Cheeky sod," he laughed, Jem replying with a flirtatious smirk. Simon glanced at Sue, who seemed to be trying hard not to look appalled, and immediately felt his anger at the loudmouth couple intensify.

"Did you manage to get all of the knots out of the bunting, then, Mum?" Kieren asked conversationally, and Simon was just as grateful for the change of topic as she was.

"Finally," she said with a little smile. Jem was giving her a defiant look across the table as Gary stuffed his face, and Simon bristled. At least he and Kieren had had the decency not to strut their relationship- if that's what it was- in front of his parents and dare them to say anything about it (one accidental innuendo aside). Where possible he liked to exercise a little thing called tact.

"They keeping you busy, Sue?" Gary asked, his mouth still full of potatoes. Charming.

Steve helpfully fielded the question while Sue was staring at Gary's gaping mouth with something verging on disgust. "Sue's on the planning committee for the village fete. It's all go, isn't it?"

"There's plenty to do," she conceded, turning her gaze back to her own plate.

"Not helped by a certain Maxine Martin," Steve said pointedly, and Simon saw Sue briefly close her eyes and sigh. He was almost tempted to join her- given the present company, it probably wasn't the wisest thing to say.

Gary immediately confirmed both their fears. "What's Maxine done?" he asked, almost defensively. Like a trained dog.

"She thinks the fete should have a stand commemorating the Rising," Sue explained quietly, focusing her attention on sawing her beef into bite size pieces.

"As if they haven't got enough to worry about," Steve said exasperatedly.

"Well, what's the problem there, Sue?" Gary asked, and Simon stiffened at the challenging tone. Almost as if he'd sensed his anger, Kieren's hand found its way to his knee again and squeezed reassuringly (or possibly warningly). He silently thanked him for the anchor.

"Most years we try to avoid anything divisive," Sue said gently, her eyes flickering to Simon and Kieren briefly. Simon met her gaze, nodding almost imperceptibly in an attempt to reassure her. He couldn't help feeling oddly protective of the woman. Then again, he'd always been more of a mother's boy.

Another unhelpful thought. Forget it.

He turned his attention back to Gary's ignorant rambling (more like mumbling- bloody hell, he needed to enunciate), locking the thought away for later. He'd have plenty of time to dwell on it then.

"…Acts of valour an' that, Jem's here included," Gary said, smiling flirtatiously at the awkwardly smiling girl. "They should 'ave umpteen stands, all Jem's heroic deeds."

"Well, it's mainly jams," Sue said, a definite edge to her voice. She was quickly tiring of this conversation, and Simon couldn't say he blamed her.

Gary continued, talking mainly to Jem like Sue hadn't even spoken. "Have one for that time we were in the Kitson's place, remember that?"

Jem laughed through her mouthful of food, and Simon realised with dismay that that was all the encouragement Gary needed to continue talking. As the story went on, Steve desperately trying to turn the topic back to the food after every mention of undead brains exploding, Simon felt rage boiling up inside him. Only one thing kept him from vaulting the table and clocking the lout on the chin, and that something was squeezing his knee with an ever tightening grip as Gary continued spinning his gruesome yarn. Simon glanced at Kieren out of the corner of his eye, and his heart broke a little when he saw the look of bitterness on his gentle face. Simon tentatively shifted his own arm, resting his hand lightly over Kieren's on his knee and squeezing his knuckles reassuringly. His heart broke even more when Kieren wouldn't even look at him.

Kieren feels Simon's hand squeezing his, but he can't even bring himself to react right now. His gaze is fixed on Gary, his frown deepening as at every junction of the violent story not a single member of his family makes to call him out on his ignorance. Kieren looks at Jem and sees her annoyance with her date on her face, but she continues to fiddle with the food on her plate while he carries on his grisly retelling uninterrupted. His dad makes a few feeble attempts to change the subject to the supply of creamed leeks, but his efforts aren't enough to halt Gary's monologue. Sue sits quietly, the anger on her face remaining a silent rage. Not one of them speaks up, not even to hint that maybe he shouldn't be telling this story at a table with two undead diners. Kieren swallows- if his digestive system still worked he knew bile would be rising in his throat. He glances at Simon and realises that he has his head down and his teeth gritted. He doesn't want to make a scene, not in front of Kieren's parents. Kieren can't decide if he's grateful or annoyed that this is the one day Simon decides to adopt a less confrontational attitude.

Well. It was up to him, then, wasn't it?

"That what you did in the war, is it?" Kieren asked as Gary finished his story, his voice catching slightly as he fought past the rage. "Kill people?"

"Leave it," Simon said quietly, pressing down on his hand firmly. Attempting to ground himself as much as he was trying to ground Kieren, he imagined. Well, not today.

"No. No, I won't," Kieren snapped, pulling his hand away from Simon's sharply and turning his gaze back to Gary, feeling the anger rise up inside him. "I killed people, too."

Just like that he felt the spell break. The magical mist his family had been seeing him through, the haze of ignorance and denial that let them believe he'd harmlessly wondered the countryside until being scooped up by the authorities and medicated, was gone. It was all out in the open now. The damage was done. Might as well get it all off his chest now. "Funny story of my own, actually. I rose from the dead, and then after that I ripped people apart," he said bluntly, honestly, feeling his voice crack at the end of the sentence as guilt and relief flooded him.

"Kieren," Sue said quietly, but there was no stopping him now. He'd waited to long for this to back down now. He noticed Simon shifting around uncomfortably beside him, and realised he couldn't care less.

"Okay, maybe it's not that funny," Kieren conceded, shifting his position. "But you can sit there and listen to it anyway, like we did with you," he said firmly, eyes turning to Gary.

Gary glanced at Jem. Noticing her discomfort, he waved his fork at Kieren dismissively and turned his attention back to his plate. "Nah, you're all right, mate."

"Listen to the story," Kieren said fiercely, making all present jump to attention. Simon's mouth was hanging open slightly, his gaze fixed on Kieren's face. Kieren was too wound up to find it unsettling. He took a deep breath and smiled, and began telling the story of that first terrifying night of his new life like it was nothing more than an amusing anecdote.

"It's weird at first because all there is, is just darkness. It's so dark, doesn't make a difference if your eyes are open or closed. What you think is that you've been buried alive."

"Kieren, please-" Steve beseeched, but Kieren ignored him. It was his turn to speak now.

"Not ideal," Kieren continued, laughing quietly at the immense understatement. "That's proper… proper panic, that, you know? You hit out at the lid of the coffin, even though you know there's no way. But then… it starts to give," his eyes glaze over slightly, his mind back in that coffin, his fingers once again clawing at the satin-covered wood with more desperation than he'd ever felt in his life. "You have to push your way through all the soil. Takes ages, doesn't it?" he vaguely directs the question at Simon, but continues before the dumbstruck man can answer. "It takes so long…"

Sue tried to interject again, but he was on a roll. They weren't taking this away from him.

"But all of a sudden… something's different," he said, lost again in the memory, reliving every second. "You feel the wind on the tips of your fingers, and the rain," he laughs slightly, humourlessly. "Because before that you're not really sure where you are, but now you know. And you're pushing through. And then all this stuff at once. The moon," he could have been there again, he could see the silver light shining in his mind's eye. "And this incredible storm blowing, and the clock chiming midnight, and you're just standing there, nobody else around, and all of it pushing into me…"

"No one else, are you sure?" Simon asks, fixing Kieren with his searching gaze.

"No, but d'you know what I felt-"

"Were any of the other graves open?" Simon insisted. Kieren might have spared a thought for the look of stunned realisation dawning on his face if he hadn't been so frustrated at being interrupted.

"No, the other graves are fine, I'm trying to say something," he said sharply, glancing at Simon in exasperation before returning to his story. "That feeling… it's like what being born must be like, except you've got context. Because honestly, dead…" he shook his head, trying to wrap his head around the impossible, enormous feelings. "Everything up until then… was fear."

Sue and Steve freeze, his words hitting them hard. "Everything," he realised it was the first time he'd ever told them both exactly how it had felt, living in Roarton when everyone hated him, being alive when Rick wasn't. Despite the cold feeling the word left in his stomach, he felt a heavy weight lift from his chest, the fist he'd kept clamped over his heart opening, spilling his secrets to the world and he couldn't bring himself to care. "Even when I was alive, just different levels of fear," he said, his head clearing for the first time since he'd rose. There were no secrets anymore- he would shout it from the rooftops, he would tattoo it on his cold, dead skin. His old life had been fear, and his new life was freedom. He found himself smiling, almost giddy with the memory of the thrill he'd felt crawling from his final resting place. As a boy he'd been scared of the creatures that went bump in the night- now he was one of them, and for the first time he was free.

"And then it's gone," he said with a breathless laugh, shaking his head in awe, fire pumping through his veins as he basked in memories of the power he'd felt, the driving hunger that kept him alive and gave him more purpose than his first life had ever had. "And you're like: 'yeah, come on, give it to me, fill me up!'"

He turned his eyes back to Gary, leaning across the table and smiling, almost spitting the last words with undisguised glee. "And you know what, Gary, this hunger, this appetite. I could not wait to get started."

The table shook as Steve slammed his hand down onto it, jolting Kieren out of his exhilarated trance. "That's enough!" he bellowed, fixing Kieren with a reprimanding look. "Do you hear me? I will not have it."

Within seconds Kieren's elation was gone, replaced by angry bitterness he could no longer be bothered to disguise. "What, did I cross the line, Dad?" he asked incredulously.

"Kieren, please!" Sue pleaded, but Kieren wouldn't be silenced. Not like this, not again. He laughed humourlessly, gesturing to the silenced couple across the table from him.

"No, while they sit around and high-five each other about killing us like it's a big joke? Oh, no, that's fine with everyone, I say one thing and that is indecent? I'm sorry, but that is bullshit!"

He leapt to his feet, the chair scraping across the floor behind him. He grabbed his jacket roughly, heading straight for the door. He couldn't stay another second in the same room as these people, not right now. "Come on, Simon."

Simon didn't seem to hear him. He was staring at the spot where Kieren was sitting, his face thunder-struck. Kieren glared at him.

"Come on!" he said again, louder this time, beginning to sweep away towards the door regardless of whether Simon chose to follow him or not.

He heard Simon mumble an affirmative and get to his feet, but he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to pay him much mind.

They still didn't understand. He got it now. Even in his own house, with his own family, he still wasn't separate from the lies and the double-standards. Even at a table with their undead son and brother, they would defend a man's right to share his 'heroic' tales of shooting zombies in the head before his right to discuss the night of his rising. The day his new life began would forever be a taboo subject, mentioned only in hushed whispers to others like himself. His family would always be happier if he pretended to be like them. To be normal.

He swallowed hard. Perhaps that's all his life was ever meant to be. One great big charade. That's what it had been when he was alive- telling his classmates his crush had been that girl he sat next to in biology, not mentioning the much stronger feelings he'd held for his popular best friend. Keeping those feelings hidden from the world even during his teenage years after they had been returned. Just pretending to fit into the niche that was assigned to him, and failing miserably the first time round. Seemed he didn't grow much better with experience.

His contacts were itching again. If he still had working tear ducts he'd think he was crying. He quickened his pace, the mousse on his face seeming to grow heavier and more suffocating with every step. Every day of his second life was a last-ditch attempt to fit into his pre-approved mould, and realising that he couldn't. He didn't want to. And what was more, no one else did either. It was all a scam, he could see it now. They gave them make-up and lenses to make them look more normal, then singled them out with bright orange bibs and pre-written lines to reel off to any human they so much as brushed past on the street. It wasn't a disguise at all, it was decoration. A way to make their waxen skin more palatable to the living. To them he was just a corpse, for them to dress up like a doll and to work for them like a slave.

They would never accept him.

How could they?

"Kieren?"

He stopped, and he heard Simon's feet stop behind him. He took a deep breath, looking up to the sky as the disciple moved to join him at his side.

Simon's pale face regarded him, his eyes still wide and disbelieving. But he softened his gaze for a moment when Kieren met his eyes. "Where do you want to go?"

Kieren considered the places he used to go. The cave where he'd seen Rick's living face for the last time and where his own first life had ended, the moor where he used to go to paint on cloudy days, the gravesite that was his first love's final resting place.

But they weren't places for him anymore. They were a relic of his past life, his human life. Those places didn't want him anymore, not the way he was. It was time for a fresh start, in a place where his lifeless body wasn't shamed and shunned.

He stared at Simon's face for a moment, then turned and kept walking.

"The bungalow," he said firmly.

It's you. It's always been you.

It still seems so strange, so foreign. But at the same time, just so easy to believe.

He barely takes his eyes off the blond man the whole way back, still trying to wrap his head around the undeniable truth that was being presented to him. They'd taken a longer route, circling needlessly around town a few times until the sun began to set, but Simon didn't question it. Kieren needed to clear his head, and so did he.

Kieren Walker. The First. The One.

Kieren barges straight into the bungalow without as much as a sideways glance to see if they were being watched. Even Simon can barely bring himself to glance into the living room before following him, eyes widening as he sees the younger man cut straight through the hallway to Simon's room. After checking the other rooms briefly for any sign of Amy and being satisfied that she's out, he enters his room to find Kieren pacing alongside the bed, his hands behind his head and his teeth gritted. The sun has set below the horizon, and the early evening moonlight is shining through the window, illuminating Kieren's hair and the side of his face in a silver glow.

Beautiful.

Simon reaches up and flips the light switch. As the boy's face is thrown into sharp focus by the artificial light he catches his breath. He's never seen his face so conflicted. Angered and anguished, all in the same look.

He struggles to find something to say. Something comforting or reassuring, some kind of platitude to ease his pain. But he can't keep his head from spinning long enough to find it.

The First. The One.

Kieren collapses onto the bed, his head cradled in his hands and his shoulders shaking, his dehydrated body trying to cry. Simon feels his heart wrench painfully, but still all he can do is look.

Kieren was special. He had always been special. Turns out he was special in a way that Simon had never even considered.

He'd never been able to believe that Kieren could want him- every time they kissed he felt his thoughts scrambled by the sheer impossibility that the beautiful, pure, incredible man could be his, or even close to his. Now he believed it even less.

Kieren's hands moved to his eyes. Simon thought he must be wiping at the corners- even after your body has stopped producing tears the need to brush them away is instinctual. Simon curses himself, realising he should be the one wiping his phantom tears away like he had that night in the rain, but all he can do is stand around uselessly.

But Kieren doesn't wipe his eyes. He reaches in, his fingertips brushing lightly beneath his eyelids and coming away slowly, the contact lenses on his fingers falling to the floor. He raises his head, his eyes closed as he turns his face to the light.

His eyes blink open. Simon forgets to breathe.

His natural eyes- vast, milky white expanses, the darkest speck in the centre still seeming to glow with life- survey himself in the mirror. He blinks slowly, unaccustomed to the freedom. He looks at his reflection for a long time, carefully neutral, neither a smile nor a frown crossing his face as he regards his eyes in their natural state.

Slowly, hesitantly, he reaches into his pocket. His hand emerges with a cloth clutched in his fingers. He raises it to his face, and Simon feels his eyes widening as he makes a long, deliberate stroke down his left cheek, the mousse coming away on the fabric and leaving a track of exposed white skin in its wake.

Beautiful…

Finally, Kieren realises Simon's been staring. He looks up at him for a moment as he wipes his face. He glances once more into the mirror.

He stands up, and Simon is pinned by his gaze. Kieren advances towards him, cloth in hand, until he comes to rest with his feet mere inches from Simon's, their eyes meeting across the short distance.

Kieren raises his hand, his eyes never leaving Simon's as he brings the cloth to the dark-haired man's cheek. Slowly, purposefully, he begins to wipe away the unfamiliar cover-up, exposing the ghostly skin beneath, his pale eyes searching Simon's earnestly.

Simon can't say a word. He's tongue-tied, his lens-darkened eyes looking on in awe as he feels the sludge cleaned from his face. The look in Kieren's eyes sends a thousand volts of electricity through his lifeless heart, and he tilts his head slightly to search his face for any sign that what he's witnessing is a trick or a joke, but he finds none.

Kieren, his eyes bare and his mask peeling, looking at Simon's face and wiping away the paint on the surface, willingly exposing his true nature for the world to see, his eyes boring into him with such intensity that Simon thought he might combust on the spot.

Because he wants to look at his face. His real face.

Simon lifts his hand slowly, as if in a trance. He levels it with his cheek, resting it gently over Kieren's hand and assisting him in clearing his face of the oppressive substance, their hands working together until his skin is clear. As Kieren's hand pulls away Simon keeps his grip on it, holding Kieren's gaze as he raises his free hand to his exposed face, removing his contacts one by one and flicking them to the floor along with Kieren's. When he feels like himself again he lifts Kieren's hand to his partially covered face, guiding the cloth in clearing away what remains of the mask. Kieren makes no move to stop him, his eyes never leaving his for a second.

When they are done, Simon takes the cloth from Kieren's unresisting hand, dropping it on the floor with the discarded contacts. He gazes at every exposed inch of the boy's face, a disbelieving smile lighting his face as he looks for the first time on Kieren's real self.

"Beautiful…" he whispers, his hand lifting to cradle his cheek. Kieren leans into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he breathes in deeply. Simon feels like his heart could burst, the love he feels for the man in front of him breathing new life into his lungs.

…Love?

Simon feels himself freeze up as the word offers itself up, feeling himself close off as his head catches up with his heart. A familiar fear coils in his gut- that terrifying fear of loneliness and rejection that accompanied him wherever he went, that he kept at bay with his prayers every morning and evening, following him like a plague.

The fear that had returned the day he first looked at Kieren's face.

He still remembers the fluttering in his stomach the first time he'd seen his face from across the graveyard. Amy had told him her BDFF was perfectly 'moregeous', but he hadn't quite believed it until that moment. Even coated in fifteen layers of cover-up his beauty had shone through. His dark eyes had searched Simon's face, looking him up and down with suspicion no other undead had ever shown him. Sizing him up.

That was the moment Simon realised he'd found someone special. For the rest of the day he'd found his thoughts returning to that appraising stare, full of a sharp cynicism he'd never before seen on such a young face. It was the face of a gentle soul who'd suffered too much. Seen too much.

With every well-warranted look of distrust the boy gave him, Simon felt the fear return. It didn't take him long to realise his prayers weren't enough to stave off the dread anymore. The only time he felt the burden lift was when he saw Kieren smile. Even during the incident at the GP's surgery, when he'd believed Kieren to be on the side of the humans, he had felt the pain like a stab to the heart as he'd returned the keys and felt Kieren's harsh gaze on his back.

Because there was what he believed. And then there was Kieren.

The First. The One.

No, not the First. Not right here, at this second.

Just the One.

"Kieren," he rasps, his breath catching as the blond man's eyes open, delicate lashes fluttering. His eyes stare up at him, his cheek still leaning into Simon's hand tenderly. He sees the look on Simon's face and his pale eyes widen, almost in expectation of the words he was about to utter.

"Kieren," he says again, his free hand cradling the other side of Kieren's face, closing his eyes for a second as he pushes aside the fear that threatens to consume him. His grip tightens. His eyes open.

"Kieren, I…"

"But I'm ready to question

That life is a blessing

So give me a sign

Am I following blind?

Is there anyone listening?

Is there anyone listening?

I don't know..."

...Yes, that really is how I'm gonna leave it.

Did I mention there were gonna be twelve chapters all in all? xD

Well, see ya next time! *runs away*