Saturday, 8th of February

Philip guessed it must've been a little after midnight as he walked in the dark. He was bundled against the cold while the rest of Roarton slept warm in their beds with their loved ones. Laughter drew his attention and he turned his head. Almost everyone else in Roarton was asleep. It was a small group of kids braving the cold with some ciders. They seemed so tiny from where he was. The group quickly moved by some houses then rounded a corner. All that was left was the trail of steam left by their breath. Then even that disappeared. Philip turned back to watch where he was going. Just a bit more now.

He had been walking along the perimeter fence for a good few hours now, and for the past two months. He had taken it upon himself to personally attend the fence, looking for imperfections and fixing them as well as he could with the toolbelt hanging from his hips. From the belt also hung a cattle prod, but that was only for the worst scenarios. It would probably never get used. Dying didn't scare him anymore. So, he gave himself this job, and that was walking the length of the fence that ran along the edge of the forest and town. This way, he could protect as many people as possible. No one else would die on his watch.

Philip had a lot of time to reflect on these solo ventures. Thinking about the past and what he had done. Despite all of his past misguided efforts, he really did try to do well by the town, but he was still just so wrong for such a long time. It was hard to change people's minds after what had happened. He understood that now, hell, it took him just as long. He finally learned to accept that "the whole town" also included PDS sufferers. Sometimes it felt a little too late. He also learned that there are those that still don't quite feel the same, especially those that wanted to volunteer to patrol the fence. They would come with guns in their hands and bitterness in their hearts. Not that these hypothetical patrollers would've needed guns. Philip had not seen any roamers since he had started. However, he still denied their help. It was his private penance.

He reached the end of fence and continued on a bit farther. He now started following the path laid by Beating the Bounds. An ancient tradition paraded into modern day. Though modern circumstances allowed for some modifications that only drove a wedge deeper into the town's divide, namely The Rising. But even that present became part of history. Things have changed a lot and much faster than this sleepy conservative town ever would've allowed for in the past.

The cold impeded his trek by a little, but Philip eventually reached his destination. He pushed open the gate and walked in. He walked off the path to travel behind the gravestones today. For nearly two months, his footprints had created a trail in the dead grass and clearly marked his destination. He walked up and rested his hand on the cold headstone.

"Hello Amy." Most days he didn't have anything more to say to her, he just wanted to be close. Sometimes he said he was sorry, especially for all of the time he wasted being a spineless idiot. Other days, he would give her summaries if there were particularly interesting events. Though it seemed like nothing interesting since she had been gone. Seldomly, he would cry, not loud, but hard enough to make his shoulders shake, and never for long. He had learned to hold back emotions far too well and far too long for him indulge more than a minute.

For the first visit, he was frantic. The day after her service, Philip came back to the site. He immediately noticed the tiger toy was gone. The hard rain made it look like her grave had been disturbed. His heart leapt with hope as he frantically searched for her, wondering where she was wandering around. He searched well into the night before Kieren found him and stopped him. Hope blinded him from seeing that the grave was still mostly undisturbed. As for the tiger, an animal had to have carried it off. Or a child. The realization shattered him. After Kieren and Simon steered him home and a week of quiet mourning, Philip rebuilt the pieces, as he'd seen his mum do after his father left for the last time. He threw himself into parish council work, working particularly hard to completely remove the remnants of the "give back" scheme. Those that would've opposed just got a look from him. He inadvertently mastered a terrifying stare that made people wither beneath it. The stare of a man that had nothing but his mission to do right by a loved one's memory. The decision was unanimous, PDS sufferers were not to be treated as second class citizens. They were too small of a town for the government to really check in on anyway.

It was getting late. Philip waited a few more minutes then removed his hand and looked up to the direction of home. He wasn't sure what possessed him to walk left around the gravesite, rather than the beaten bath on the right. Maybe the cold gave him delusions of the other side was actually the shorter route home. So he walked left. Maybe it was luck that people didn't walk around these parts so much, perhaps for fear of a possibly not-so-dead occupant, so things were largely undisturbed. And maybe it was also luck that this one small bit of metal didn't fall into a hole as it was filled in. The person that left it there was too rushed to remember to pick it up. It had to have been simple dumb luck that Philip felt it under his shoe and picked it up. A bullet shell dully reflected the moonlight as he held it up. It means nothing, Philip thought to himself as his breath quickened and he pocketed it anyway. It means nothing. It doesn't mean anything. Just a hunter passing by from the woods, probably…. It. Means. NOTHING! Philip walked at measured and rapid pace, trying to put distance between himself and the questioning thoughts that would eventually catch up with him.

…

He didn't feel pain, but Kieren imagined this is was what getting knocked out by a sledgehammer would be like. While his eyes were closed, he heard Simon shuffle things around in the bungalow. Kieren heard Simon exit and re-enter the room twice in less than two minutes. Kieren slowly moved on the sofa to show his awakened state and slowly raised heavy eyelids.

"Kieren," Simon said with a relieved exhale. He rushed to the floor beside the sofa.

"How are you feeling? Can you see okay? Any pain, or the semblance?"

"I'm fine, you don't need to fuss…." Kieren stiffly sat up and eventually managed to look Simon square in the face. He was clearly holding back how distraught he was. His hair fell just a bit over onto his forehead, instead of it being neatly combed and in place. Kieren couldn't help but smile and reached his hand up to push back Simon's hair. Not shaking, suppose that's a good sign.

"I was worried." Simon sounded heartbreakingly concerned. Kieren pulled Simon's face to his own. Sensations felt numb and dulled as PDS, but when Simon's lips pressed against his, he could've sworn felt like it used to be. Kieren pulled away after a few seconds. Simon's furrowed brow was smoother now.

"I know," Kieren responded softly, then he remembered something and looked around.

"Where's Jem? She still here?" How can you not remember your own sister.

"Yeah. She's asleep on the bed. And don't worry she phoned your parents after your fit had calmed down. She somehow managed to convince them they didn't need you airlifted to Norfolk by the Royal Army. And that was just from saying you were 'fatigued' and needed a rest before going home." Simon smiled a little and Kieren followed suit. Kieren sat up and pulled Simon onto the sofa. Or rather guided onto the seat by pulling his arm, Simon was a rather broad-shouldered man. Simon sat skewed sideways by the corner so that Kieren could rest his head on Simon's chest. Simon slowly lowered his arm to rest over Kier, holding him a bit tighter than if he weren't worried.

"So are you gonna tell your folks what really happened?"

"Of course, as soon as I get home. And after they first see that there is nothing actually wrong with me."

"You are really lucky you fell so close to this bungalow Kieren Walker."

"Yes, quite lucky I collapsed" Kieren joked. "Perhaps you are a bad omen meant to bring about my ruin." Kieren chuckled but Simon said nothing. He just pressed his face into the back of Kieren's head

"Hey, I was only kidding," Kieren replied softly. When Simon didn't respond after a few more moments, he turned to face him. Simon's eyes dropped below Kieren's and he closed his eyes. Kieren was confused but also becoming annoyed at the silent treatment. This is exactly what I meant. What the hell is he holding back? As gently as he could muster Kieren said as he stood up,

"I should get Jem and head out. Pretty sure Mum and Dad are probably still up waiting for us." His voice still carried bite. Simon looked up at Kieren. His face read No wait. Let me explain. Please stay. What he said,

"Probably for the best." Then he furrowed his brow and his lips pursed just the smallest amount. Simon was deeply conflicted, but Kieren didn't care just then. His own life was unravelling at the seams, and Simon was proving less and less to be the support he needed.

But he still wanted Simon to say something, so Kieren lingered by a doorframe longer than he wanted, despite his annoyance. But in the end he walked to the bedroom and gently shook Jem awake. She stretched a bit and sprang up, though she wobbled a bit still drunk off of sleep. Half asleep with her eyes more shut than open, she clung onto Kieren's arm as he escorted themselves outside. He didn't say goodbye to Simon.

The walk was peaceful but cold. Kieren largely felt nothing, but he could feel Jem vibrate from her chattering teeth. He picked up the pace and luckily the walk wasn't that far. Every step away from the bungalow left him more frustrated and afraid.

…

"All right, could you tilt your head forward a bit more dear?"

"Sure." Frankie dipped her head forward. She winced at the pinching around the back of her neck. It wasn't that painful, but the long unfamiliar sensation was almost unbearable.

"Now Frankie, how long you say it's been since your neurotryptilin's started causing pain?" Shirley gently patted around the injection site. There was no inflammation to suggest an infection, if someone with PDS could even get infections.

"About a week, and it only just recently been giving me a twinge."

"I see…."

Shirley was doing her best to try and diagnose the poor girl, but what did she know? He was the highest authority on PDS in Roarton, but now that title passed to Shirley. Dr. Russo has been gone for months. He simply disappeared and rudely resigned by fax, the nerve of that man, thought Shirley vehemently, he didn't even have the decency to clear out his things. He quite adamantly stated that he it was an emergency call away, and a replacement was on their way. That left Shirley, taking up the brunt of the work that many other nurses and doctors turned away from. As a result, she hadn't the time to go in for additional training to deal with whatever this new symptom was. It honestly worried Shirley, hell it completely frightened her. Is this the development of an immunity to the medication? Shirley decided to send in some of Frankie's bloodwork to Norfolk. She only needed a quick glance at Frankie's silently distraught face to know what to say,

"You'll be fine dear, results'll be back within a week and we'll know exactly how to fix you up," then she lied with smile, "honestly nothing to worry about."

Frankie visibly relaxed a bit and even mustered a quick smile as she waved goodbye to Shirley on her way out. Once the door shut, Shirley sat down and slumped back in her chair. After pressing palms to eyelids for a good while, she checked the clock. Past closing, no doubt the others had left her to close up. Shirley did a quick look over the clinic, bid the caged untreated goodnight, and locked the door.

The cold night pushed her to a faster pace and she got home in no time. The lights were out so Shirley entered as quietly as she could. As she passed by his room, her heart swelled a bit with pride. Through the slightly cracked door she could see Philip fast asleep. So tired, he hadn't even changed into pyjamas. He had been working so hard to make Roarton better after losing Amy. Shirley wiped back a rogue tear. Philip made her so proud, and yet she was so sad for him. She didn't let the thought linger any longer and she strolled off to her nightly routine.

In Philip's room, he lay awake facing away from the door. On his pillow laid a bullet shell. He silently made plans at it. He needed to unearth the truth.