I haven't read many post-season 4 fanfics. Maybe one or two here or there, though nearly none of them touched on Freddie's death. And if they did, they just brushed it off like it was no big deal which I thought was kind of weird. I feel like Freddie's death would be something that would turn each of their lives upside down not be brushed aside.

That being said, I'm still not too sure how much this will focus on Keffy. I blame Trufreak89 for making me ship them. I didn't see how much potential they had as a couple until I read Surviving Bristol. Then I rewatched Skins and shipped them SO HARD. So yes, there will be some Keffy in this. Just not sure how much yet.

I'm posting this at 1am so I apologize for any mistakes or typos. Anyway, enough of my rambling. Enjoy.

For the first time throughout the entire night, Cook finally stopped moving. He brought his throbbing, clearly broken fists up to his face for inspection, the moon providing him with just enough light to see the blood drenching his fists. He put one hand to his face, wiping the blood from his brow caused by the gash on his head. The pain in his chest was surely caused by one or two broken ribs at the least, and he had been walking with a limp. To put it shortly, James Cook was a bloody fucking mess.

John Foster. The man who fucked up the love of his life, and killed his best friend. He was the cause of his current state, but it was nothing compared to the state Cook left him in. It had been decided the moment he happened upon Freddie's bloodied clothes. At that moment it was clear.

One of them had to die.

And there was no way Cook was going to let Foster beat him. He'd survived too much already to be beaten by a fucked up old man. A fucked up old man who happened to have a baseball bat. A fucked up old man who had beaten his best friend to death with that baseball bat. A fucked up old man that caused Effy to spiral out of control.

Cook took a deep breath, finally allowing his thoughts to invade him. Another first for the night.

First thing's first, he had to get out of Bristol. A bullshit assault charge was one thing, and even then JJ couldn't handle keeping him in his closet. A murder charge was another. There'd be fuck loads of people looking for him, probably ransacking the shit out of his friends' houses. They'd be the first people the police would turn to, whether they knew anything or not.

His thoughts drifted to Effy. Shit. What could he tell her? Oh hey, yeah, your crazy-as-fuck psychologist beat Freddie to death. Just thought I'd let ya know. 'Kay, yeah, bye. She was barely hanging on when Cook left her, and news like that was sure to throw her off the deep-end.

Cook pulled his phone out, going through his contacts, the light blinding in the dark. Was there anyone he could tell? Lately, everyone had their own shit-ton of problems. JJ had Laura and her kid. Effy was too fucked in the head. Panda and Thomas were goin' off to Harvard. Katie was off doing her own thing. Naomi and Emily were probably still sorting out their issues. Last thing any of them needed was to be an accessory to murder.

Still, he couldn't just bail on everyone. They'd know something was off. Him and Freddie disappearing one right after the other? Besides, someone had to know the truth. There was no way he was going to let his best friend die in vain. He was not someone to rot and be forgotten about.

Decision made, Cook pressed a button and put the phone up to his ear.

Insistent buzzing roused Naomi from her deep, and for the first time in what seemed like a very long time, peaceful sleep. Opening her eyes, she squinted against the dark, a slight smile spreading across her face when she realized her position. Emily was tucked into her side, breathing into Naomi's neck. Naomi's arms were wrapped around her lover as if someone may steal her away while they slept, her chin on top of Emily's head. For a split second, Naomi nuzzled her face against Emily's hair before she remembered what woke her up in the first place.

With a sigh, she regretfully detached herself from the love of her life, reaching for the phone with a frown.

"Ngh...Hello?" Naomi couldn't keep the sleepiness from her voice as she greeted whomever was on the other end. Maybe she should have checked caller idea first.

"Naomiikins, hey." To her surprise, it was Cook's voice on the other end, but instead of his normal happy-go-lucky voice, she heard a tone in his voice that was unfamiliar. He sounded defeated.

"Cook?" She glanced at the time on her phone, "It's four in the morning. Why the hell are you ca-"

"Freds is dead."

That made her stop. She sat up, bringing her phone away from her face to stare at it before bringing it back to her ear. "Pardon? Cook if this is your idea of a joke it isn't fu-"

"Freds is dead." He repeated, more forcefully this time, his voice cracking. "That quack of a doctor, the one that fucked Effy up, he killed him. I found Freds's clothes when I went to his place. They...They had blood on them." Naomi heard him take a shaky breath on the other end, "So I killed him."

"Jesus Christ," she paused, not able to believe it was really happening "So what do you need from me then?" There had to be some way she could help out, but from the sound of his voice it seemed as if there was very little she could do for Cook's well-being. Fuck it, she'd give him a place to stay if he needed. She'd lie through her teeth for him.

"Just listen babes, I gotta skip town for a little bit. I needed someone to know why. Tell the rest of the gang on my behalf? Call a meeting if you have to...And Naomiikins?"

"Yeah?"

"Get someone to take care of Effy for me, yeah? I don't think she's gonna handle this well," with that he hung up.

Naomi dropped her phone, bringing her hands up to run her fingers through her hair. "Jesus Christ."

"Who was that?"

Naomi nearly jumped out of her skin. Her eyes shot down to Emily's as she stared up at her, brown eyes full of questions. "Cook...That was Cook."

She felt Emily's hands on her shoulders, rubbing soothing circles. "What'd he say?"

For a second, Naomi wondered whether to tell her or wait. It was stupid considering how they were just managing to put the pieces back together from her last moment of weakness. She shook her head. No, she would be honest. Cook wanted them to know anyway. "It was about Freddie," She sighed, "He's dead." It still hadn't sank in yet. Freddie. Dead. Cook. Murder. There was no way she could wrap her mind around such an insane turn of events.

"Oh my God," Emily whispered.

"Yeah."

"Well, what are we going to do?"

"Tomorrow. We'll worry about it tomorrow. Cook wants me to call a meeting so I could tell everyone what happened."

Naomi most worried about Effy. The last thing she needed was to hear about Freddie, but she also didn't need to be lied to. They'd have to look after her carefully. Keep her in their line of sight for as long as they could.

Effy was going to need as much help as she could get.