Entre Les Overdoses d'Amour (Between Overdoses of Love)
Eskimo Jo

Pairings: Naomi/Emily, Katie/Cook, Naomi/Cook.
Rating: M; character death, language, adult and disturbing scenes, drug use
Summary: When Katie decides to visit her sister in London, she throws everyone's lives into upheaval, prompting Emily to question her commitment to her girlfriend in light of Naomi's complicated relationship with Cook.

Notes: A sequel to Collision. I didn't mean to make a trilogy, but I swear this is the last part. Please see previous parts for the backstory. This is as much a Katie story as it is a Naomi/Emily one. In fact, Katie's pretty much the main character, but at the core, I consider it still Naomi/Emily. However, the fic is told from Katie, Cook, Naomi and Emily's perspectives. Title is from the lovely 'Le Trou' (The Hole) by Tricot Machine, from Quebec.

As an added bonus, since I've posted the other parts now, here's an amazing little fanvid/teaser trailer for the entire series. It's wonderful! .com/watch?v=Cw1vgduhrno . It's like one of the best online gifts ever :D

Disclaimer: The names of all characters contained here-in are the property of Skins, Company Pictures, & Channel4. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.

"Love - any love - reveals us in our nakedness, our misery, our vulnerability, our nothingness."
~ Cesare Pavese, 1908-1950.

.


.

KATIE


She doesn't know why she's even here.

It's the middle of a particularly grey, cold and rainy March and coming into the heart of London hasn't made that any brighter. Obviously. She doesn't think she can imagine anything more depressing than this stupid, grubby neighbourhood under this horrid weather. She didn't know it was possible for there to be a place worse than Bristol, but here she is, learning that the hard way. And for no good reason, either. It had seemed like a brilliant idea 3 days ago. It wasn't until she was staring out the train, zooming past hills and cooling towers, that she actually realised what she was actually doing.

So she stands at the intercom, debating. Getting here really wasn't as fucking difficult as Emily had made out. Her sister never was good with directions, giving her even more reason to be a leader back in college.

Her fingertips hover above the 3-digit call number. She memorised it on the tube to prevent herself from looking like a lost and confused easy target when she arrived. But that meant fuck all now considering she couldn't even work up the courage to visit her own damn sister. She takes a deep breath and scans over all the entries in the directory. She doesn't even see a familiar name next to the number she knows is Emily's. Figures. Judging by the state of the place, it isn't exactly kept up to high quality standards by the landlord.

The whine of a door hinge needing oil causes her to turn around. She almost rolls her eyes at her luck.

James Cook stands stunned in the doorway, key in one hand and a large paper bag full of what she can only assume is liquor in the other.

"Hey stranger," he says in a voice that Katie has never heard before. Almost like shock.

"Cook," she greets in kind. He glances behind him, to see if she is with anyone before turning back to her with a strange expression. He's probably surprised that she could actually find the flat considering he was likely used to her useless sister getting lost everytime she went outside.

"Forget the code?" he asks.

She nods, accepting the lie he offers. "I'm here to see Emily. She called a while ago, yeah? Said I should," she pauses mid-sentence to give the lobby a once-over again and tries not to turn up her nose further. "Come round and see the place." It's hesitant. It isn't that it isn't the truth, but she still isn't convinced that at the time the offer was extended, it was sincere. She's about to find out. He notices her reluctance.

He shoves the off-license bag into her arms, ignoring the rather large overnight bag on the mat beside her, and opens the inner door. Only when it's held open with his foot does he motion for her to hand him the bags. He trades her for the keys and lugs her bag and his towards the stairwell. She follows him without saying anything even though her mind is racing with pleasantries that she knows she's supposed to offer. There's something about a dead sober, less-than-exuberant Cook that unnerves her however and she stays quiet as well.

Inside the flat is nothing like she expected from the exterior. With grudging acceptance, she notes that it's actually sort of nice. It smells nice anyway even if there's crap littered all over the worn coffee table and a pile of dishes on the sofa. (Really? She can't imagine Emily ever settling for this sodding shit-tip after the childhood they had.) But they have some fairy lights up, a few decent pieces of furniture from IKEA, and a bunch of plants that neither smell rank nor feel like they're crowding the space. And a fucking wicked television smack dab in the middle of it all. She can see into the tiny kitchen from her spot in the living room and it's typical. And messy.

"Welcome to our humble abode," he announces proudly after a moment of her silence, spreading his arms wide and grinning. She offers a weak smile. It's the best she can do if she wants it to be genuine. "Make yourself at home, babe."

When the word falls from his lips, she's immediately taken back and realises that she's never heard 'babe' ever sound quite as right as when it comes from him. It brings back memories of before. Before Effy smashed her over the head in the woods; before Emily and Naomi broke up for the (then) last time; before fucking stupid Effy went and overdosed, the dumb cunt, and before Emily moved away to bloody Durham.

She smiles wider. "Where's Emily?"

He shrugs indifferently and begins unpacking the contents of his shopping bag into a bar fridge beside the TV. Lagers. Obviously. "Uni probably, doing her best to rid the world of ignorance... or getting pissed and flashing her tits. Whatever you ladies do there."

Katie wants to correct him but keeps schtum on that topic in favour of asking another question. "What are you doing here? Middle of the day and all."

He looks up from his position, his eyes lingering a little too long on her breasts before meeting her eyes. "Don't have work 'til later. You're stuck with me... Liquor? Spliff?" He offers with a wink at her as she moves over to him.

She sighs, a little dramatically. "Whatever. I'm easy."

He raises his eyebrows at her comment and hands her a moderately cool can of Fosters. "Tease." The smirk that spreads across his face is mirrored on her own. He tosses her the TV remote as she finally takes a seat on the sofa.

"Amuse yourself, but a word of warning: it's possible Blondie has locked-out every channel except Discovery and equally boring-as-fuck ones." Katie smiles a little at his dismissive tone and tries out his theory. It's obviously a lie but she scrolls through the meagre offering of channels as she sips her beer anyway. Cook slumps into the armchair and she's a little disappointed that his cheekiness has pretty much evaporated. A year ago he would have slithered down beside her, a little too close, and done the whole yawn-and-stretch trick.

It's a little awkward being in this situation after having so much history. She really should have at least texted her keener sister on the way over. Her visit being a surprise was a terrible idea. She sees the spark of a lighter and a haze of smoke drifting her way. Then again, some things never change.

There's a bustle of movement on the other side of the door and soon Emily comes bursting in, followed by a rather breathless and dishevelled looking Naomi. Katie's lips automatically turn into a sneer and she has to try her best to repress it. After all, they're Facebook friends or whatever and the ugly cow is shagging her sister, still. It's just that they haven't actually seen each other since the day after Emily dumped her (which she knows now how it went down) and old habits die hard. She looks instead to Emily and grins.

"Surprise!"

Emily's face seems to do this weird thing where it's like she's trying to do every expression possible at the same time. Eventually it settles on pleased and she holds out her arms for a hug. Katie arches an eyebrow, and surveys her sister for a second before noticing Naomi's got the very same look of genuine confusion on her face. She jumps from the sofa and walks over, if only to give herself something to do other than glare at the blonde standing so bloody close to her sister. It's like their auras need to constantly be humping or something. She squeezes her eyes closed as she hugs Emily tight. She missed her too much, and feels a little more complete beside her.

When they separate, Naomi's gone and Emily's eyes are sparkling, boring holes into her. She stares into the nearly identical brown eyes with the same intensity before Emily finally relents and speaks. "I'm glad you finally came." She moves over to the stack of dishes. "If you had told me, I would have cleared up a little, you know. Tidied and made up the place suitable for company."

"It's fine, Ems. Seriously," she interrupts.

When Emily returns from the kitchen after making a racket of dumping the dishes into the sink, Katie sits down again and picks up her beer. It shouldn't be this awkward. They're family, twins for fuck's sake but she can't think of a single thing to say now. The only things that seem to be present in her mind are the same pathetic questions distant relatives ask at various holiday gatherings. 'How's school going?', 'Anything exciting happen lately?', 'How's that blonde thing you're dating doing? Still buffing her beaver every night?'. The usual. She sees Cook studying her and wiggles her fingers at him, silently asking for the nearly finished spliff. He acquiesces with a dirty grin. "You can finish it."

She nods, quirks her lips and looks around briefly before inhaling. She almost coughs; it's been a while. Still, practised smoke rings emerge from her lips. She glances around again and Emily's darting around pushing various objects into random corners.

"Where'd Naomi go?" she asks and trains her eyes on her sister's back. There's a lazy wave in the general direction of what she can assume is a bedroom door before she turns, hands limply on her hips, and faces Katie.

"Are you going to be nice?" she asks abruptly and Cook chuckles in his chair. Katie really tries to look offended but realises the attempt is failing magnificently. Instead she grits her teeth.

"Yes." Cook giggles louder at her statement and she idly tosses a magazine at him. "She's your, whatever, yeah? And, like, you love each other."

Emily narrows her eyes as she watches Katie toke again. "She's my girlfriend," she says with a thin layer of smugness.

"Right. And we're all grown ups." There is a large guffaw from the general direction of Cook and she finally rolls her eyes. "Fuck off," she groans at him before returning her attention to her sister. "Ems, past is past." She's serious, or at least she's trying to be. She swears they've had this exactly conversation numerous times on the phone already. She wonders if Naomi is afraid of her. That would be a first.

Emily relaxes and smiles again, plucking the remaining joint from Katie's fingers and inhaling deeply. Katie watches with an air of appreciation she never had before. "But we're not going to be, like, best mates or anything."

There's a funny look on her sister's face, and she smirks. "Good. Naomi doesn't need any more best mates. The one she has is shitty enough." And then Emily laughs as Cook squints at her, wagging his finger.

"You, Little Fitch, are a proper runt," he whispers, before breaking out in a huge grin.

"And you are going to be late for work – again."

Cook reaches over and gulps down some of Katie's lager, before pounding his chest and standing up, stretching. Katie can't help herself. "You're going like that?"

He grins again, like he's got a secret even with bloodshot eyes. "Well, princess, there is nothing in the world better for rush-hour crowds on London's fine Underground than a little bit of relaxation. It makes the unbearable bearable. Wanna come with?" He waggles his eyebrows at her as best he can under the circumstances as Emily hands him a pair of quite stylish sunglasses. Placing them on top of his head, he struts towards the door. "Ladies, I will see you when the Bow Bells doth sound thrice!" With an exaggerated flourish, Cook closes the door behind himself and disappears. Emily screws up her face in contemplation.

Katie narrows her eyes. "I don't remember him being so weird."

Emily sighs but stays otherwise silent, her eyes trained sadly on the closed door and Katie realises there's so much she doesn't know anymore.

.


.

It is fucking surreal being in this situation, watching Emily and her minger girlfriend poke and piddle around their tacky kitchen like little domesticated housewives, preparing some sort of vaguely edible tea for her. She thinks she should offer to help as well, but it's too bloody bizarre to be bearing witness to this scene. She wonders about buying them matching "Kiss the Cook" aprons for next Christmas, but realises that the idea just prompts completely unbidden images of a threesome with Cook. No, she doesn't want to see that – or be the cause of it – ever. Disgusting. They're whispering something to each other and it just makes her feel ever more like this whole visit was a shit idea because they've obviously got their own world that she no longer has even the smallest place in.

Two years ago that knowledge would have stung, provoked her into some sort of ridiculously dramatic and potentially dangerous action. But she's pretty sure the blow to the head caused her spirit to bleed out as well, and when Emily finally left Bristol, whatever leftover droplets she had been holding onto were siphoned away with her. Now, she just accepts losing her sister as one of those things that she deserves. She deserves to be miserable, living in a half-empty bedroom in her mother's house, working a less than wonderful job just to give her something to do. Her new friends are fine. They don't know about college. They wouldn't care even if they did, not because they like her for who she is or any of that bollocks, just because they don't really give a shit about anything. Like a whole group of Cooks. But she convinces herself it's fine because they get fucking lashed with her 4 nights a week, sometimes she'll get shagged by one of them (usually Matt) and it's not that she's particularly fond of him, but he fancies her and that's enough. Pandora is just about the only person, other than her sister, she still speaks to from college because talking with Panda is like therapy: she nods a lot, smiles and often says half-mad, philosophical-sounding things that make Katie believe that not everyone hates her all the time. But Katie blows her off far too often for the lure of dark clubs and amphetamines to think that they're best mates.

She's a shit twin, shit girlfriend and and a fucking useless friend. So, she sits and watches her positively glowing other half grin at the same blonde twat that had ripped them apart. And it's fucking pathetic how she can't even be angry at that because Naomi is just as bloody loved up. More than anything she's plain jealous, in a hopeless and kind of self-loathing way.

Then the hippie cow turns to her, spoon in hand, and asks if she likes green or red peppers as if it really matters. Katie wants to punch her in her stupid foodie-inclined face but she settles for muttering "red" before looking away, anywhere but at the eyes that are set on her like lasers. It's a good thing Naomi has never been that remarkable at reading people. She is no Effy, that's for damn sure and so, as awkward as she feels with Naomi studying her, she feels safe enough.

With a resigned sigh, she stands and leaves the kitchen, not willing to be party to whatever lame experiment Emily and Naomi Cuntface have going but after staring blankly at her reflection in the bathroom mirror for a few minutes, she grows bored. It's the same worn and tired face that she sees every fucking day. Something has to change. And being here, in London, a new place, granted, but with old people, she doesn't really see how that's supposed to work. The one person she never wanted to be is the person she became. That sad loser who looks back to when they were 16 and says "Those were the best times of my life!" and honestly means it, even when they're 42. Like her mum. She's slowly transforming into her and it seems futile to fight and there's a suddenly spark of fire inside her belly when she considers Emily's escape. Emily, the arsey spaz, has got it all together (with potentially the worse person in the human race, but that bit can be ignored for now) and yet she's supposed to be the fucking Queen Bee. She's the older twin, the trailblazer. Being jealous of her younger twin was never something she thought would happen in a million years.

And she's sick as hell of hearing James ask their mum or dad what wicked and amazing thing Emily's been up to lately. From the looks of it here, she doesn't do much of anything except go to lecture and shag Naomi, neither of which seem all that exciting really so she doesn't get what the huge fucking deal is. Making her way back to the kitchen, she tries to act nonchalant about the current situation.

But that is made doubly difficult when she catches them mid-snog, Emily pushing Naomi up against the counter. It makes her stomach flip in a weird, nostalgic kind of way that isn't entirely unpleasant. Maybe it's because she knows that's what love looks like, or maybe because it's almost like all those years ago, in middle school, when she first saw it. It's like time has reversed: she has a second chance, and this time she doesn't come raging in, screaming and throwing a half-full beer can at Naomi's scrotty little blonde head. She clears her throat instead and waits in the doorway.

Naomi drops the half-cut pepper on the floor, and her cheeks flush redder than Katie thinks she has ever seen them. It's not like she caught them fucking or anything and Katie narrows her eyes, seeing Emily casually wipe at her lips, before running a thumb under Naomi's. She is grinning like a fucking wanker of massive proportions and all Katie can do to stop herself from shitting a brick, is bite down on her cheek, hard.

"We're in love," Emily states, plainly as day. As if it's some sort of justification for rubbing Katie's nose in it.

Katie purposely looks as unimpressed as humanly possible. "No shit."

Naomi waves a carrot at Katie. "Jealous, Katiekins?" She asks and actually bloody winks as she delicately bites off the tip. There's a pause as Katie tries to work out why she doesn't feel the sick rising immediately to the back of her throat.

"Oh of you shagging my sister, you mean?" comes her snappy response, if a little delayed. "Not sodding likely, you lezza perv." She tries to remain serious but a small smirk betrays her and Naomi catches it immediately and laughs, and for the love of Christ, she winks at her again. "And I hate to break it to you, Campbell, but your skanky muff is not on my list of things to see in this lifetime."

"Maybe the next then?" She arches an eyebrow and smirks in a less-insufferable way than usual.

Bloody hell, Naomi fucking Campbell is flirting with her. Of all the situations in the world that could make her impossibly uncomfortable, she has to get stuck in this one. She wouldn't exactly call it a nightmare, but it's so unreal that she's actually at a loss for words.

She manages to mumble a half-hearted "Whatever." before seeing Emily smile at Naomi and their silent exchange. She groans loudly, her spirit renewed. "I didn't come all the way here so you two could have a go at me, so get your dykey asses back to the stove and make me some food." She's incredibly pleased at just how firmly that came out of her mouth.

Emily chuckles and goes back to busying herself with the veg. "I've missed you, Katie," she says offhandedly as she rinses a bowl in the sink.

Both Naomi and Katie stare at Emily momentarily, before the blonde resumes her chopping and Katie allows herself to smile sincerely. That was all she really needed to hear.