Fred admired how, even in purgatory, human beings had found a way to emulate the high-school cafeteria stereotype.

Racial discrimination didn't exist here, title was everything. Were you a musician? You eat, drink, converse, sleep near, and otherwise live with the other musicians.

Philosopher or Scientist? Enjoy a daily lecture from Socrates or Newton, followed by a rebuttal from Plato. Hawking was a new addition. Fred admitted it was strange seeing him outside of his wheelchair and actually communicating.

Author? Well, Jane Austen has a seat for you. Unless you wish to sit with the more "edgy" authors, in which Poe and his contemporaries stalked about their area of purgatory.

Everyone had a title. How odd that in purgatory, your stereotypes are what truly and actually define you. There was likely some lesson to be learned in that, but Fred didn't wish to think on it. He had a mission.

He made his way over to the great scientists and sat plum in the middle of them. Newton was theorizing the matter around them and tying it into some form of thermodynamic supercharged particle that kept them locked in purgatory. Or something. Fred was educated, but a large portion of his experience on earth had been in Presbyterian schools. He had long ago left behind his initial thoughts of purgatory because, well, he was here.

And he still was not forgotten. He didn't mind it, though. Being here wasn't all that bad. Sure, it was a little uncomfortable, but that's life, why wouldn't second-life be a bit uncomfortable?

Newton stopped mid-sentence and stared in horror. "Fred?" Somehow everyone knew everyone's names here. Another mystery both the philosophers and scientists attempted to answer. Didn't matter to Fred. All that mattered was he was here.

"Hey, neighbor!"

The other scientists turned in confusion, likewise locking their gaze on Fred. "I, uh, well, as I was saying..." Newton continued his lecture, acutely aware of Fred's awkward presence. Fred pretended not to notice, nodding appropriately at what Newton was proposing. Others piped in and offered their theories and expounded on each other. Fred simply listened.

It had all started a few, well, years isn't the appropriate term as time had no real meaning here. Suffice to say back some time ago, Fred had overheard the philosophers discussing second-death and what it meant to die a second time. 'Nobodies', as they came to be known, arrived and departed in purgatory almost by whim, leaving almost as suddenly as they arrived, whereas the more well-known among them lingered. Some for centuries and even millenia. They had proposed that second-death was tied to remembrance on Earth.

Plato had rebutted that a third death was possible. That wherever you went from here you once again remained until forgotten.

That got Fred thinking. Perhaps it was a bit selfish on his part, but his Presbytarian upbringing had brought him to a final conclusion - after purgatory was heaven or hell. Now, he was pretty sure he was going to heaven. Therefore, if third-death really did exist, well, he didn't want to be forgotten anywhere.

He figured that by tying the whole community together, though, it would offset his selfishness. Hopefully. He faintly recognized further selfishness in that act, trying to "cheat" the system, but well, it was all he could do.

Once Newton had finished, he rose from his seat, and gave a polite nod to everyone. "Thank you, Sir Isaac. That was certainly enlightening, and has given me some things to think on. Now if you don't mind gentlemen, I have a few others to visit."

The great scientists nodded in agreement, less ruffled than before - or so Fred hoped.

Over the 'weeks', he would visit as many groups as he could before his energy ran out and he had to retire. "Hey Fred, how is your little project going?" Ghandi had asked after one such journey. He had expressed great interest in his little project, but as of yet hadn't mustered the courage to mirror his actions. "What did you learn?"

Fred greeted his friend with a soft grin. Gandhi had been the first to introduce himself when Fred had experienced first-death. Truly as honorable as the history books made him out to be. "Oh, I met all sorts of people with interesting ideas and even cultures. Isn't it odd how humans develop cultures even in purgatory?" He sat on a bench, and slowly removed his dress shoes, humming a bit to himself. Old habits die hard. No pun intended, he thought, chuckling to himself. "I imagine I won't be here as long as most of you. But here is what I make of it."

He paused, a bit for dramatic effect and a bit to collect his thoughts. "I believe that the more we are remembered on Earth, the longer we are given to make an impact here in purgatory. It is a reward for our deeds on Earth, to give us time to continue them here. With no clear direction, it's easy to fall into lazy patterns of behavior, falling back on what you know best with others who know it as well. I think the key to heaven is our impact in purgatory, not Earth. Earth simply gives us a head start, so to speak, here."

Gandhi pondered a moment. "I think you're correct."

When his time finally came, Fred Rogers was met with a chorus of 'goodbye neighbor!' as he casually slipped off his dress shoes and jacket, put on his sneakers and cardigan, and stepped through the door of light with his name over it. He hoped it had been enough. With how wrong he had been about purgatory, he had no idea what this "second death" would be like, or what was waiting for him on the other side of this door, but as he had told countless children during his time on Earth, he decided to be brave, and see what this next adventure had in store for him.

^{I certainly don't think this is a literary masterpiece, nor do I think I got Mr. Rogers' characterization perfectly correct. That said, I had fun writing it, and imagining Mr. Rogers continually helping others as he makes the next step beyond purgatory was nostalgic for me as well. Thanks for the prompt.}

^{A very smol edit: Apparently Gandhi was an asshole. Uh. Insert random historical awesome figure. MLKj? Whoever. XD}