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AN: I do not own SP or its characters...yay zombies!

When my eyes open it's pitch black.  Underneath me there is a false softness, a thin layer of padding lying overtop of something hard and solid.  It's a small space; I think it's just large enough for me to rest my hands behind my head.  I try to test my theory, but I'm met with resistance.

My limbs remain immobile.  It's like one of those dreams where you can't move no matter how hard you try, like there's no connection to the rest of your body.  I try again.  

Finally my arms begin to move, stiff and slowly.  My joints creak in protest from the use, like they haven't moved in days.

Oh right, they haven't.  I'm dead.  I think I was hit by a car.

My hands finally come to rest under my head, my fingers threading through strands of hair and elbows barely touching the sides of my coffin.  My body has reanimated as best it can, but it still feels like all my movements are being pushed through water.  I frown as best as I can into the darkness.

Being dead doesn't bother me so much.  Really, it happens fairly frequently, even if no one seems to remember.  I've been to Heaven, I've been to Hell, I've been a ghost, I've died and been reborn more times than I can count.  I've never woken up in a coffin though.  

I'm certain that I'm dead.  I'm not breathing and there's no heart beat pulsing through my body. I must've died at least a few days ago.  Why the hell am I awake?  I can't die anymore than I already have, so why am I conscious at all?

A cold fear grows in my mind.  If I'm still aware of what's going on, how can I be reborn?  Or move on?  Am I going to be stuck here all alone until my body rots?  For eternity?  This is worse than dying, infinitely worse.  I've never been stuck alone like this before.

My body can't feel a racing heart beat or break out in a sweat, but my mind still begins to panic.  If I could breathe I'd be hyperventilating right now.  

Just as the panic becomes overwhelming I hear the most wonderful sound I could imagine.

Something like fingernails is scraping, thumping against the top of my tomb.  The hinges groan as the lid is forced open.

A dim light floods into my padded cell.

Before me is the most glorious sight I've ever seen.

He's standing before me, towering over my coffin as he looks down at me in his best suit.  I look past the dirt caking his clothing and hands, past his ashen skin and into his lifeless eyes.  There is no spark in those once vibrant irises, the moonlight does not shine on his dulled red curls.

I've still never seen anything more beautiful in my whole life.

One of his hands rests on the edge of my coffin's lid.  There is an open, bloodless wound stretching a few inches from the base of his palm to his forearm.  He smiles a little at me.

"I thought you might be lonely."

He says it in a way only he can: half sheepish and half daring me to mock him.

"Can I come in?"

Even in death he's still full of polite mannerisms.  He'll never change.

I smile back at him.

Without a word he climbs in and lies on top of me.

I slowly wrap one arm around him and pull the lid of the coffin down with the other.  The domed top allows just enough room for him to rest there, partially between my legs.  

His head is on my chest.  I hold him as tightly as I can.

"I missed you," he says it like it's an explanation.  I push my neck down to rest my chin on his head, my nose buried in his curls.

I wish I could still smell, I bet even now his hair smells sweet and wonderful and perfect.

"Kenny, don't leave me."

If his heart was still beating I bet I would feel it pounding against me, there's a sense of urgency in his voice.

"I promise, Kyle," I croak out, my voice sounds hoarse and strained.

I feel his body somehow relax into mine.

"I think I'm going to sleep now," he sounds so peaceful, so content now that I wonder if he's really even here.

His empty eyes slip shut like he's settling into a deep slumber.  I feel the weight of his body resting on mine.  I feel so light inside.  My eyelids start to grow heavy.

I smile as I clasp his still body to mine and let my eyes shut.  I'm not alone.

Being here for eternity doesn't sound so bad anymore.
K2, Kenny's dead and Kyle pays him a visit.
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Submitted on
May 12, 2011
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