Author's note: Hey guys. This is my first fic... my first attempt at a whole story, in fact (my attention span is awful). I don't really have anything to say other than I hope you enjoy. So, enjoy? Feel free to review etc.

Disclaimer: I don't own Skins. If I did, series 4 wouldn't have been filled with so much pain and torture (yep, still not over it).

Burn Thin, Burn Solid, Burn Bright

Chapter One: The Kindness of Strangers

Emily Fitch never thought it would end this way.

There hadn't been a single raised voice, not one tear shed, just a sharp 'leave' from her mum spoken with such an inarguable finality that Emily'd lost the ability to fight back.

Her day had been spent aimlessly wandering the streets of Bristol. With the little money she had on her she'd bought a sandwich and a drink, and then made her way up to the lone bench at the top of the park hill - the one that held so many memories. She'd closed her eyes briefly, consuming herself with what used to be, and then after blinking away some stray tears, she'd watched passers-by for the rest of the day.

It was only when the sun had gone down that she'd began to drown in the darkness.

There were no stars that night. The clouds lay thick above her, a swirling mass that refused to let any light through - except for that of the moon's. It stood gallantly ahead, barren and silent. Below her, the city lights were like electric against the charcoal sky. She exhaled a shaky breath and tucked a strand of wild red hair behind her ear. Everything felt distant. Disconnected.

She tried to control her shivering, but the air was cold and stiff and it burned deep into her skin. A drop of rain hit her cheek, followed by another, until eventually a sky full of rain was hitting the ground around her. The harsh wind scraped against her ears until they ached unbearably. The trees shook relentlessly, clusters of leaves drifting in the wind like birds of pray before falling next to her. She lent back onto the wooden bench, defeated, and shut her eyes.

"I won't cry," Emily whimpered to herself. She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her body. Everything will be okay tomorrow. Mum will calm down. She's just in shock. She could do this, just for one night. Tomorrow, Emily repeated over and over.

Seconds melted into minutes, minutes melted into hours, and it was only in the early hours of the morning that sleep decided to take her.

The sound of grass crunching under feet caused her eyes to flit open some hours later. Her body immediately stiffened, heart beating faster in her chest as the sound of footsteps became louder. Through her glazed eyes, she spotted a figure walking towards her. She blinked away her unshed tears until her vision became clearer.

A man. Jogging towards her. Standing in front of her. Looking down at her, worried. She stared back in shock.

"Hello, I am Thomas. So glad to meet you," said the man a few seconds later, extending his hand for her to shake. "It is a strange time to be out on your own, don't you think?"

Emily looked up at him and then let out a relieved breath. Under the dim light of the streetlamp, she didn't feel so vulnerable. His eyes were kind, his smile was warm, his voice was soft. Although still somewhat hesitant, she wiped away few stray tears on her sleeve and then shook his hand. "Emily," she offered weakly.

His gentle eyes looked over her petite form with concern. "Emily, where are your shoes?"

She bit down hard on her trembling lip. "I - um, I don't know." Her own voice felt foreign to her; scratchy instead of husky, wavering instead of clear. "I - I couldn't find them…" she said, laughing nervously.

"Well, you can wear mine," said Thomas without delay. He bent down and began untying his shoe laces.

She stared at him again, dumbfounded, until her brain clicked into action. "No… you don't need to-"

"It's okay." He handed her his shoes and smiled. "I don't mind bare feet, I'm used to it. Besides, it makes it easier to run."

Emily dropped the trainers to the floor and then stepped into them. She wiggled her toes around until they began to feel less numb. "Thank you."

Thomas nodded before looking up to the sky. "I love the rain," he said, tilting his head back in appreciation as the drops of water hit his cheeks. When his eyes fixed on her again, he frowned. "You must be cold. Here, let me give you a jacket."

"No, really-" she tried to protest.

"It's fine. I have three coats." He shrugged off the first and then gestured to the others. "See?"

A ghost of a smile settled on Emily's lips. She took a step forward and let him drape the coat over her shoulders.

"All better now?" Thomas asked.

"No…" Emily choked out. She cast her eyes down towards the floor, tears threatening to spill again.

Thomas put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "What's made you so upset?"

Emily wiped her eyes. "It's complicated."

"So are a lot of things," he pointed out gently.

She sighed dejectedly, pausing for a while before she spoke. "Okay. Well, I mean - what do you do when the person that's supposed to stand by you no matter what lets you down? You know, like... really fucks you over?"

"You must try to see past it and make the most of what you have left."

"But what if... what if you don't have anything left?" Emily looked back up at him, brown eyes searching for an answer that would make it hurt less. "It's not always possible to see past it, is it?"

"No… I don't think so. But sometimes we don't realise what we still have... everyone always has something." He gave her a sad smile. "Now, would you like to tell me what is a beautiful girl like yourself is doing out at this time? It is very late."

"I - I don't know."

"Then I think you should go home. There are dangerous people about at this time."

She swallowed a lump in her throat. "I don't have anywhere."

"What do you mean?" Thomas asked, concerned.

"My mum kicked me out. I was going to stay here tonight," she explained, gesturing to the bench, voice wavering a little.

An unreadable expression blanketed his features. "And you have nowhere else?"

Emily fidgeted with the sleeve of the coat she was wearing. "Nope."

"No family?"

"My sister's in New York and my brother moved out to live with his best friend last year. My dad had a heart attack when I was ten," Emily told him, her voice barely a whisper. "It was just me and my mum."

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said sincerely. "All my family are in the Congo and I miss them very much. What about your friends?"

"I don't really have any friends," she admitted in a mumble.

Thomas was quiet for a moment before he said, "I don't understand why. You're a very sweet girl, although you have sad eyes."

"Thanks," she sniffed.

"I think I know a place you can stay tonight, but you must trust me. They may not be so happy about it, but it's late and it's not safe to sleep out here. What do you say?"

"Oh, um..." Emily had always been timid, never the impulsive person she craved so hard to be. And now, here she was, homeless and completely out of a comfort zone, standing next to a stranger that had shown her more compassion than she'd experienced in a very long time. So, instead of mousing out, she bit her lip and made her decision: stay out here all night by herself, or walk to god knows where with someone she'd known for less then ten minutes.

He waited patiently for an answer.

"Yeah, okay," she finally replied.

Thomas smiled. "Good. And tomorrow you will have a clearer head, yes?"

She nodded and breathed a sigh of relief, hoping he was right. "Yeah."

"Then follow with me."

They walked in silence, the only noise coming from their footsteps and Emily's shallow, shaky breathing. Apart from the occasional fag end or booze bottle strewn on the pavement, the streets were dark and empty, cold and silent. The rain glistened around them, reflecting light back into the grey sky, making everything in sight slightly blurry. Distorted. Strangely, Emily felt safe. Her eyes felt heavy and her thoughts lagged, but there was something peaceful about being too exhausted to focus on what was happening.

"Here we are," he said at last.

Emily'd barely realised they'd come to a stop. Away from the street lights, it was too dark to make out where they were. Some sort of alley, she figured.

"Let me do the talking, Emily."

Emily nodded. She wondered if it was an appropriate time to be worried, wondered if she wasn't worried because she was numb, but then Thomas turned to her with such a genuine smile on his face that she realised there was no need to be afraid.

He knocked on the door twice, paused, and then knocked three more times. They waited patiently, Emily shivering into her borrowed coat and Thomas humming something to himself. The door creaked open a few moments later.

"Hello, Cook," Thomas said politely. There was an edge to his voice, and Emily - even in her sleepy haze - couldn't help but wonder why.

"Oi, oi, Thommo! You took your time. It's three o' fucking clock in the morning, mate," Cook bellowed, throwing his arm around the other man's shoulder. He caught sight of Emily and raised an eyebrow. "Who are you, Little Red?"

"Her name is Emily," Thomas answered for her. "She has nowhere to go."

Cook ran a hand through his thick sandy hair. "Look… you know the rules, man. Although, I'm sure me and you could come to an arrangement, babe," he said to Emily.

"She's in no state for this," Thomas sighed. "Now let us in. We're very cold." He pushed past Cook and then gestured for Emily to follow. She walked past Cook sheepishly and let Thomas lead her into the building.

They walked down a hallway, Cook following behind, until they reached an opening.

Emily surveyed the room in shock. The house was beautiful, but in a haunting sort of way. The walls were all red brick, but there were odd spots of white paint peeling off the walls in intermittent spaces. Some graffiti was dotted around here and there, things like 'the three musketeers' and 'cookie loves naomikins' and 'gay-jay has a tiny ukelele.' Rugs were covering most of the floor, although Emily could see there was grey concrete underneath. A small kitchen area to the left, a few doors to the right. She looked up to find a wooden balcony and a large circular stain glass window. Cracks in the ceiling with moonlight streaming through.

The room they were in was huge, church-like, and she imagined that once upon a time it was separated into different segments instead of one huge space. In the middle of the expanse, mismatched chairs and seats were placed in a circle. There were people, too. Some asleep, others lazily smoking, but all seemingly oblivious. All except one.

A brunette with icy blue eyes settled her gaze on the two of them. She took a long drag of her fag, taking an equally long, hard look at Emily.

"Hello, Effy," Thomas greeted her, seemingly oblivious to the tension Emily felt.

"What the fuck, Thomas?" she replied. Her voice was flat, but underneath it she seemed to be slightly amused.

He repeated what he'd said to Cook and then added, "I found her at a bench while I was running. Like a dog," he grinned childishly. The brunette just rolled her eyes. "Her mum has kicked her out and she needs somewhere to stay. It's just for tonight."

"Right." Effy smirked at Emily and raised an eyebrow. "Does she talk?"

"Yeah-" said Emily.

"Interesting," Effy cut her off. She exhaled the thick smoke before she looked over to Thomas. "Well, you know how it is."

"We don't always follow the rules," argued Thomas.

Emily sighed. "Can someone just - I mean - what fucking rules?"

Effy, Cook and Thomas settled their eyes on her, along with a few other people in the room. Thomas and Cook looked surprise at her little outburst, but Effy just looked... bored.

"Feisty, I like it," grinned Cook after a moment. He licked his lips, and Emily sighed once again. "Emilio, man, what you've gotta understand is that we have nothing apart from each other. So when little kiddies like you stroll into our home, we've got to settle our priorities, yeah? We don't have enough to share-"

"What he means," Effy interjected, "is that we don't invite strangers over for cute little sleepovers."

Emily shifted uncomfortably. Looked down. She would've left right then and there if she wasn't so tired. If she actually had somewhere to go. She looked to Thomas for help, but he just looked back, unsure of what to say.

"Okay. I'll just-"

"Wait," said a voice.

Emily looked up to find a bushy haired boy staring at her with wild eyes. He seemed familiar, but she couldn't place him.

Silence.

A boy with tanned skin and long floppy hair looked up. "Er, what is it, JJ?" he asked, taking a long drag of his spliff.

"Oh, right. Sorry, Freds. Okay, well... right, okay, so-"

"Jay," Effy said sharply.

"Sorry," JJ apologised again. He took in a deep breath. "I was sitting outside the park, maybe a year ago, and you were there," he said directly to Emily before addressing the rest of the group. "It was before I found this place. She didn't have any money on her, so she broke off half of her sandwich and sat with me whilst we ate. We talked for a bit, but then someone rang her and she said she had to go." Katie, Emily remembered. "I - I think we should let her stay."

Despite being tired, the day came rushing back to her and slotted into place. "You look different," Emily said slowly.

JJ smiled warmly at her. "Yes, that'd be my glasses - they broke a while ago. Pandora cut my hair for me too."

The blonde girl next to him beamed. "Did a whizzer job as well, didn't I, Jay?"

"Indeed you did." He turned back to Emily. "You look different too."

She gave him a shy shrug. "I dyed my hair red."

Another silence settled between them all. Eyes turned to the brunette. She rolled her eyes; clearly she hadn't appointed herself as leader of the group.

"Well, I wouldn't want to ruin this reunion, would I?" Effy deadpanned as stubbed her fag into an ashtray. "She can stay in Naomi's room tonight."

"Blondie won't be happy about this," Cook cautioned.

"Well Blondie isn't here right now, is she?" Effy replied shortly, giving Cook a pointed look. She looked over her shoulder. "Panda, there's an extra sleeping bag in my room. Show Emily to Naomi's room and make sure she's okay, yeah?"

"Sure, Eff." Panda bounced up from her seat and tugged at Emily's sleeve. "Come on, stupid! You look mega tired."

"Thank you," Emily said as Panda pulled her away. She wasn't sure who she was thanking. Thomas for finding her, JJ for being the reason she was allowed to stay or Effy for agreeing. Either way, it was Freddie out of all people who replied.

"You look after one of us, we look after you."

A few heads nodded in agreement and she smiled back.

Emily awoke later to the sound of hushed voices. She couldn't remember falling asleep, or anything about the room she was in for that matter, but she felt comfy. She was wrapped up in a sleeping bag, lying on a wooden floor and it took her a moment to realise that she was in fact up on the balcony she'd seen earlier. She tilted her head, and found the stain glass right above her before she focused her attention back to the voices.

"What the fuck is that girl doing in my bed?!" someone hissed from below.

"Sleeping," came the bland reply. Effy, Emily figured.

"I can see that, Eff. But what's she doing here?"

"Keep your voice down, Naomi. Everyone's asleep."

Oh.

"I will when you tell me what's going on," Emily heard Naomi reply.

"You weren't here tonight, and she needed somewhere to sleep. Panda shares with Thomas, I share with Freds, Cook shares with JJ, and you were gone. Maybe if you didn't saunter off to fuck knows where without telling us where you are all the time, you'd have had a say in this. "

"So that's what this is about? You're punishing me?"

"No-"

"Fucking brilliant. You're not my fucking mother!"

"Naomi-"

"Don't."

Silence.

"You're tired. Get some sleep, okay?"

There was a long, drawn out sigh before Naomi replied, "Fine."

Emily snapped her eyes shut at the sound of footsteps padding up the stairs to the balcony. She listened as Naomi shuffled around and then settled down into her own sleeping bag, lying in the furthest possible spot from her.

Emily shifted, turned to face the wall, hoping that somehow it'd mean she was imposing less. "I'm sorry..." she offered in a weak whisper.

She waited for a reply, and when she got nothing, she let herself drift back off to sleep.