Chapter Text
Kieren sat in the dull of silence, an ill sketched portrait of Amy squished between his fingers. He held onto it in a way that would seem he was trying to hold on to her life with it. But, she was gone. The forever in best dead friends had be axed before he’d had the chance to fully enjoy it’s promise. He was left with staring at the partially wrinkled parchment instead. Kieren had spent hours shelling page after page off his desk into the bin just trying to catch pieces of who she was between the black lines. Success was inevitably futile. Though he could have spent hours longer still attempting to grasp those pieces his family started to notice. The number of times Sue or Steve would knock on his door piled up like the pages on his floor. He kept his gaze on the one he gripped tightly in his hand now. His damaged white eyes traced over it’s markings with an artists scrutiny. It was easy to tell which lines were drawn more anxiously than others. The strokes were shorter, brisker, and they left behind a sense of panic.
Kieren sighed. As much as he’d tried to carry on differently this time, it was always the same. He always ended up feeling like this. His vision turned from the drawing to Amy’s last will and testament. It still laid half unfolded on his desk. He’d probably read it over more times than he’d tried to sketch her face. The thought of letting her go became inconceivable. He did everything he could to keep her alive in his mind. No matter how many times he’d reminded himself he shouldn’t he couldn’t help himself from trying. Amy would want so much better for him. He could imagine what she’d have to say now.
“Don’t look so glum handsome,” her voice rang in the air crisply. Kieren reflexively glanced around his room hoping to see her standing behind him. Of course, there was nothing. There wouldn’t be. He just wanted to believe she was going to be there. The hardest part was knowing that she wasn’t coming back this time. When Amy had gone to the commune there was always promise she would come home. Even if Kieren had been afraid she’d get mixed up in some cryptic ULA business at least she was alive. More or less.
Setting the drawing carefully onto the duvet the doe eyed zombie moved to his desk and lifted the will from its surface. The pages jittered slightly in his grasp. His hands had started to tremor often lately. Anxieties that he’d caused himself were becoming more noticeably physical.
The words blurred. It was difficult to read through the violent shaking. For a moment Kieren’s eyes filtered shut in a fruitless attempt to slow his trembling. They peeled open again laced with tears instead. His focus could only circulate around one phrase, “I appoint Kieren Walker as executor and trustee of my will.”
“Come back, Amy,” his voice cracked, shattered by a lingering feeling of desperation. He let the document fall from his hand back onto the desktop and took a few steps backwards. He needed help. He needed Amy. Giving his hand a few swift shakes to rid it of its tremor he re-straightened his posture. A trivial pursuit to gain some semblance of composure. There was no point in constantly falling to pieces. He was given an eternity to live and what was the use in living it all like that? Though habits are incredibly hard to break.
The door behind Kieren slowly pushed open followed by a soft rhythmic knock. Who ever it was, was soft and gentle in their approach. He blinked the stray water from his eyelashes before turning to meet his their gaze. Green eyes peered back.
“You alright, Kier?” Jem asked, stepping further into the room, “mum’s called for lunch.”
A smirk pulled on his lips, anterior to answering her question with a soft, playful, diction, “I won’t be sitting at the table for lunch today, Jem. I’ve got plans.”
“Goin’ out with Simon are you?” she pressed again but with a smug hitch in her voice as well.
“I think I’m going to visit Amy.”
The last response rang firmer. Jem’s smile dropped. It was a pouting gesture Kieren certainly recognized. She was worried. She had every right to be. He wasn’t exactly renowned for his finer ways of handling grief. Jem knew well enough that offing himself again was hardly a threat but it didn’t stop her from being uneasy.
“Don’t worry,” He continued, trying to ease any mental disquietude, “I just thought it would be nice to bring her flowers or something.”
“Well, I’m coming with,” she interjected with that proud tone she always used. It was clear to mean no arguing. Kieren wouldn’t have turned her away regardless. Things had been rocky for her since Henry. Even though her state had been slowly progressing there was still an unhealthy amount of damage. Both the Walker siblings had their problems to deal with.
“It’s not everyday I get to go out with ya, little bro,” Jem added in a teasing addition.
Kieren rolled his eyes and laughed out a breathy, “Dick,” as he went towards the door.
While the heavy waste from earlier hadn’t fully eased it had lessened. The immortalized “younger” brother felt pleasant enough thanks to the light joking from his sister. Despite the minor or sometimes major spats between them...Jem and Kieren had a way of helping one another. Kieren was understanding of why she acts while Jem managed to make him smile merely by being the firecracker that she was.
They walked side-by-side down the staircase, Kieren glancing over at the woman by his side. She really wasn’t a little girl anymore. He’d missed years of her life. When he died she was still a kid with things left to learn. Now, she was older than he was in years and had seen far too much. More horrors than he would ever be able to discern. The flashbacks of what he had done were hard and they made him sick with guilt but they were nothing like what Jem must have been through.
“Where are you going?” Steve sounded from the edge of the dining room just as the two of them were about to step through the front door.
“Out,” Jem snipped back.
“Where out?” he asked again, trying too hard to be stern.
“We’re just...going into town, Dad. We’ll be back soon,” Kieren chipped in sounding far more casual than his sister.
Steve wasn’t exactly pleased with this development. Still, he accepted that they were leaving. The Walker parents didn’t keep their children on very tight leashes most times. It was a flaw as much as it was a blessing.
Jem exited through the door first, followed by her brother who still hadn’t gone back to wearing any cover up. His family, Simon, Philip all started getting used to the idea of his natural state. It was the people of Roarton though that were worlds different. Things in the village had a tendency to get only slightly better before reverting back again. Specific situations would pop up that called for unity and once they were over so was peace. Acceptance was sporadic. Right now it was in it’s recession. Mrs. Lamb had stepped forward to run things and the whole thing made Kieren nervous. However this was one thing he wasn’t going to let his nerves get the best of. He was, for the first time in both his lives, accepting himself. If he had to fight tooth and nail against other people to keep that feeling he was more than ready to do so.
Jem bumped her arm against Kieren’s pulling him away from his thoughts, “Should we get some flowers from that shop there?” She asked nodding her head to a place down the street a bit.
“Sounds alright to me, Jem.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, s’fine,” he insisted with a reassuringly light tone.
The gun toting “badass” went a bit ahead of Kieren who kept his own pace behind. Watching her with a soft grin on his face he stuffed his hands in his pockets. These things reminded him of his trips with Amy. They were a lot like this. The two of them chatted about all sorts as they walked through the town. His first real memory of Amy was on a day trip. The fondness of it all pulled the grin wider on his face.
Jem looked back at him with one of her famous smug glances, now approaching the shop. She was undoubtedly assuming the reason his smirk was so bright. But no matter what she was thinking she was wrong. Kieren felt the guilt of hiding how he’d been feeling from his sister...and how much he’d been thinking about Amy too.To him it wasn’t worth the worry.
Coming to stand at the edge of the flower coated tables Kieren paused while the other Walker sibling headed straight into looking around. There were so many coloured plants. Some in groups, some with complimentary hued ribbons on their stems. Even from an observational stance it was noticeable that each one was carefully planned in a delicate balance. Art in its own form.Just different context.
As undead eyes grazed the counters they caught sight of a familiar shade. It was the vibrant yet rich pink of the flower Amy always wore in her hair.
“Jem…” He called toward her, she’d been standing at a rack a few tables away, “C’mere? I found one.”
The weight of his body shifted awkwardly on his feet as they carried him towards the ideal hue. Cold, dead, fingers wrapped around its stem it and lifted it into view.
“It’s perfect, Kier,” she exclaimed with a smile and took it from the other’s hands. She tottered off for a brief moment to pay for it, though it didn’t take long, and then it was being passed back into Kieren’s hand.
Stepping off in the direction of the cemetery things for Kieren started to get a bit more dodgy. It hit harder where he was headed now. This wasn’t a day trip with Jem. This was the first time since her funeral that he was going to see Amy’s grave. The sky was lacking in any brightness for comfort and silence became drumming in his ears. Murky gray weather was all too fitting for this. At least he wasn’t alone.
“Thanks for coming, Jem.”
“Oh. Yeah, no problem. You ok?”
“Just fine. Appreciative.”
“Don’t get all soggy on me dickhead,” she laughed.
He laughed quietly with her, “Come on, Jem. I can pay you a compliment every now and then can’t I?”
“‘Spose it’s fine.”
“It would be, wouldn’t it.”
She shoved him in a playful gesture setting his feet off balance enough to stumble. However, he found himself faced with the entrance to the new cemetery now. The laughing fell short. Becoming aware of the flower in his hand again he looked on at this dismal place. Jem noticed the sudden change in Kieren’s disposition placing her hand on his shoulder.
“Hey, it’s alright,” she tried to assure him. If only her words had landed any comfort.
“I know,” the reply was less than truthful.
Amy was in there. Buried under the dirt. His jaw quivered slightly but it was clear he was trying to keep it still. Jem’s eyes didn’t break away from her brother. She was watching for the signs she had learned to look for. After Rick died the first time she had mistakenly ignored so many of them. At fourteen the seriousness of the situation wasn’t anything more than her brother was sad and he needed cheering up. She’d been too young to understand the reality of someone being suicidal. And though she was angry at him for leaving she was more angry at herself for not realizing how much he needed. That mistake wasn’t one she’d be making again.
Her hand squeezed his arm lightly as he took a few strides into the cemetery following in after. Something about this place didn’t sit right. It weight thick and heavy. Not in the sense that they were surrounded by lost lives. Nor even that two of these headstones read the names of Kieren’s friends. It was something else. Like the ground had been shifted in ways it shouldn’t. Impossible to put a finger on but strong enough to disrupt balance. Kieren, who felt it most, wrote it off quickly as acute paranoia.
He knelt beside Amy’s grave, setting the flower neatly onto the stone’s rim. It was easy to tell Philip had been there often. His footprints were all but solidified into the soil. Neither one of them had seen much of him since the day after Amy’s wake when he asked if they had removed the stuff tiger from her resting place. They hadn’t even realized he left it there but Kieren was certain if anyone had taken it, it was a good bet to point fingers at Gary Kendal. He was able and willing to do anything he could just to upset other people.
Staring ahead at the marble writing Kieren read it off, “Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light,” he gave a single breathy chuckle before questioning, “some things never change do they?”
Jem remained silent. The inquiry was rhetorical and she didn’t feel like it was her place to give banter back. While they weren’t on horrible terms she didn’t exactly present herself with open arms towards Amy. Kieren realized that privacy during this moment was for the best.
“Would you mind giving me a few minutes alone here?” he continued, this time with a less rhetorical question.
“‘course. I’ll wait by the gate. Holler when you’re ready.”
He nodded as she turned to walk away but she stopped short to turn around again, “And Kier? Don’t bum yourself out too much got it? I don’t want to be bringing a mopey dog back to mum and dad.” A bit cheeky but she meant well by it. She swayed back to the entrance leaving Kieren on his own to press through this morbid greeting.
His attention shifted back to the headstone. He mustered sigh, sight locked on her name. As soon as Jem had meandered off the situation felt a lot more tense. Anxiously he toyed with his own fingers. It wasn’t long ago he’d been sitting in a similar position just a few graves down, talking to Rick. He took a moment to stare off at where Rick had been buried. Having Simon in his life didn’t lessen anything he once had with Rick Macy. Rick was there for years. He thought he should pay him a visit as well after Amy. That was if he could even manage to spit out any words to her first.
“I don’t know what to say to ya,” that was sort of a start, “Not much has happened around Roarton. Maxine left. Forcibly. The giveback scheme is “on hold” until someone new comes in...I don’t suppose you really care much about that stuff.”
He was silent for a while, picking at his own nails. It shouldn’t be this hard to form words. He talked to Amy all the time when she was alive but dead? He could barely manage to stumble.
Out of the silence a distant sound penetrated his ear in the form of a low, haunting, whisper, “Kieren…”
He glanced up from the marble slab in front of him. At first, confused if he’d heard anything at all.
“Kieren…” it came through again, this time from the opposite side of the cemetery.
He swallowed a thick layer of saliva looking at the headstones surrounding him. If his heart could beat it would have been pounding. The tightness in his chest was thick, like the inside had somehow become coated in a layer mucus. Kieren took short, shallow, breaths still staring out into the cemetery. He didn’t need to breathe but he was hoping it could calm this suddenly tense feeling of vulnerability.
It was a few minutes before, from the corner of his eye, he caught the first sign of motion. He was apprehensive to look but as slowly as he could he turned his vision towards it. A familiar pink and blue skirt met his eyes, blood stains tainting the front. His sight line traveled to her face. Locked in her stare the emotions drained leaving him only with the harsh feeling in his chest. Like he’d been gutted. Their stare held for just a minute but the seconds ticked passed with an unfathomable slowness before she turned and entered the congregation of trees that surrounded the cemetery. As soon as the sealed staring was broken Kieren sunk back in his shock. It was like Lisa all over again. His BDFF hadn’t really been there she couldn't have been...
“J-Jem,” his voice was feeble at first as it attempted to cut through the stiff constraint lodging his vocal cords.
“JEM!” he tried again, louder this time.
She turned in confusion. Kieren’s body was quivering just enough to be noticed when she looked at him. Her face quickly morphed from confusion to concern as she walked closer to him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked softly, not sure if she should put a hand on him or keep them to herself.
“I...I saw Amy.”