In completely unsurprising news, Kieren has discovered that Quidditch (like all the other sports he's attempted) is going to go on a list of failures. He winces as he cradles his sprained wrist against his stomach, walking home and wondering exactly how humiliating it's going to be to have to ask Sirius to repair it for him, what with the whole reason he's injured being that he'd been trying to become more magically inclined.

So to speak, at least. Using his left hand to open the door to their place, he works to get his satchel off his shoulder with twice the work it normally takes, inhaling deeply to try and rehearse his words in his head. Unfortunately, he has the feeling that the best way to do this is to be direct and get straight to the point.

"Sirius?" he calls out, grimacing when he tries to hang the satchel in the closet, the injured wrist twisting a little uncomfortably. "You wouldn't happen to have any healing magical potions on you at the moment, would you?"

This whole situation is stranger than Kieren knows how to deal with.

The being home part is such a relief, even if it's not perfect (because even home hasn't got Amy Dyer, what with her being dead still), but he's got his Mum and Dad and Jem's here. The being alive part in Roarton is something to get used to, finding that people are still staring at him, though. He's used to that by now, but the truth is, he's sort of surprised that people are staring at him for being normal. It's like he can't win. Of course, that staring starts to get worrisome when people like Zoe catch sight of him, hissing loudly that he's clearly done something or made a deal with someone.

He wishes it weren't so obvious that he's alive, but then, cover up and contacts never really did what a warm beating heart can. The one complicated thing that Kieren hadn't really counted on and knows he'll have to face is the fact that he's got to see Simon at some point. The last time he had, before Darrow, he'd been telling Simon that he'd been glad that he's going to stick around.

If he's home for good, he owes him a conversation.

Heading up to the bungalow (having told Sirius to follow after, once his parents let him loose), Kieren braces himself as he takes in a shaky breath and knocks on the front door, trying to mentally rehearse whatever the hell he's going to say when it opens.

Kieren's still not entirely sure how he got home, but he didn't get a can and he thinks he'd run the whole way out of sheer, bloody, awful panic. He feels guilty about it all, too, because it's not like he could've controlled himself when he was PDS and that wolf, man, thing, it hadn't been able to, either. It's a scary thing to be on the other side, starting to understand the fear of the people in Roarton.

Still, Kieren's first impulse will still always be to help and not to hurt, not when there's been so much harm already done. He's still shaking when he gets to his and Sirius' place, his hands not letting him get the key in the lock for the tremors. Forcing himself to calm down, he takes in a few deep breaths and tries to look steady, even when it's the last thing he feels. If someone could smell him, they'd choke on the fear spilling off him, which makes him pray that Sirius isn't hanging about as Padfoot right now.

Setting his supplies down in the kitchen, he starts opening the cabinets to see if they've got any booze lying around. If any time is a time for him to drink, it's right now.

It's there when he's coming back from getting groceries. All of a sudden, there's something very familiar looking looming outside of the Dimera Apartments and though Kieren wants to pretend that he doesn't know what it is, the shape of it and the plastic yellow tape warning people to stay away is something that pushes a chill down his newly sensitive skin. He can feel the dread as he nears it, clenching the groceries tighter.

Kieren's not sure he can even help how much he expects to see an awful sweater and Simon sitting on top of it, but there's no one there.

No one but his grave.

"“Gone is the face we loved so dear. Silent the voice we loved to hear," he hears Simon in his memory, thinks of the poetry that he'd rattled off the very first time they'd met.

And now, outside his apartment, there's a gravestone marking his death. He's alive again and human, but here's something reminding him that at eighteen years old, Kieren decided that he couldn't take it anymore and ended his life. Good thing he never got cremated, after all. Sitting gently down beside it, he's glad it's not Rick's grave, though he knows he might be tempting fate. Ice cream beginning to melt, Kieren can't exactly move, still trying to figure out what he even feels about all this.

It started twenty minutes ago and Kieren can't stop it.

His hands have been shaking uncontrollably and given the non-stop black blood coming out of his nose, it's led to a lot of the drops hitting the floor. The bleeding isn't new, but this much of it all at once is and that's sort of what's really scaring him right now. He can't stop shaking, he can't stop bleeding, and he has to wonder if the NTP is coming to the end of its usefulness. He thinks that this might be the end of Kieren Walker, PDS, and a return to full-zombie Kieren.

The panic is welling up within him as he thinks of hurting people and he knows that he can't do that. This feels like losing control, like Blue Oblivion, and it just means it's only a matter of time before he goes rabid.

He can't do there here in Darrow, not where people might get hurt. That's what makes the decision for him and Kieren bolts, leaving his place in a mess of blood droplets and tissues, heading out into the country on foot. He's too cowardly to end his own life, but at least he can look for a place to hide out until it all calms down and passes over.

And if it doesn't pass? Well, then at least there's a chance someone will stop him before he gets back to the city limits.

Quite honestly, for about three months, Kieren just sort of figured his cat's been getting really fat. It's not like he should know better, because it's not like he'd ever had an appreciation for the animal arts when he'd been alive. So when someone had given Kieren a look like he's an idiot and commented that the cat's just pregnant, he doesn't think it should be his fault he hadn't noticed.

He hadn't even noticed himself coming back to life. How is he supposed to notice a cat?

He can notice, though, that the cat seems to be in distress and a quick check on the internet says that this is around the time they go into labour. Still, he's not doing this on his own. A touch panicked, Kieren fumbles around the bungalow for his things and fetches towels and an actual dropcloth, texting Sirius absently as he wanders, running a hand through his hair until it's wild.

Does he call a vet? Does he get a house call? Do those things still happen?

How is it that after finally getting what he’s been after for so long, all Kieren wants to do is go back home?

Then again, a lot of that panic is due to the fact that one minute, Kieren had been in the washroom trying to give himself his injection using the mirror and the next, he’s in the middle of a crowded train station, as if suddenly his old wishes are coming true and he’s managed to escape Roarton and find his way into a whole new whirlwind. The trouble, of course, being that he’s got no cover up, no contacts, and is currently wielding his injector.

“Excuse me,” he says, as politely as he can despite his rising panic, jamming his way out of the station with his head down and trying not to make any eye contact. He feels like he can’t breathe and given that he doesn’t breathe, that’s a bit much. It feels like too much. Between losing Amy and his forced encounter with Blue Oblivion, suddenly having a mad episode and thinking you’re in a crowded city must mean something. The trouble is, he isn’t sure what.

It’s not really a side effect that they put in the pamphlets, is it?

Kieren doesn’t find any respite on the street either. There’s just more and more people, like they’re coming from every direction. His panic drives him into an alleyway just for a breather, clasping onto his injection. He reaches back for the hole in his neck, grimacing as he tries to align it. He hadn’t managed to finish giving himself the daily dose before he’d been interrupted.

And now he’s in an alleyway in some strange city, looking like he’s shooting up.

Strangely, it brings Simon to mind and Kieren almost laughs at the absurdity of the situation, only he has to be careful because if he moves, this is going to hurt more than it usually does (and it usually hurts a lot). It’s in the middle of this completely absurd and ridiculous piece of mad theatre that he hears footfalls at the head of the alley, because of course he’d be caught out like this.

Mindful of what he looks like right now and knowing he needs to finish this injection, Kieren keeps his head just slightly tilted so the shadows hide his skin and his eyes.

“It’s not what you think,” he protests immediately. “Really. I swear, it’s medicinal.”

Because that would be the perfect cap on a mad day – being carted off to the hospital or the loony bin for giving himself required drugs in some strange new alley. So here he is, in the hands of a stranger, and Kieren just has to hope that after all the really terrible experiences he’s had lately, this is going to make up for it all.

Please use this as a dropbox for Kieren Walker from In The Flesh. Feel free to throw any zombie-related plots this way! All comments are screened.