Title: Protection

Disclaimer: Do I look like Jamie Brittain or Bryan Elsley? The answer is no.

Pairing: Naomi/Emily

Summary: Sometimes protection is for your own good and sometimes it can destroy your very existence.

Note: I'm not sure where this idea came from, but who am I to scare away plot bunnies? I hope you'll enjoy the story and even though it starts off short and with an event you may not like, I hope you'll find a way of looking beyond the first chapter and into the rest of the story...

Protection

The tissue in her hands had long since broken up, soiled with tears and the contents of her nose. She didn't care, couldn't care. Not anymore. There was nothing left to care for, except Emily. The pavement beneath her feet shook in her hazy view, never quite sturdy enough for her unsteady body. She'd just got off a plane, now this. She didn't know where she was even going, a tiny flat on the other side of town, the address of which had been pinned on the fridge as the 'new Fitch home'. She hoped Emily would be there, yet longed for her to be anywhere but. How could she tell her? How could she explain? How could she be the one to break a poor, young girl's heart?

Then another wave of grief hit her, pummelled her in the stomach like a rugby player making a tackle, until she stopped in her tracks and lifted that disintegrating tissue to her leaky eyes. How could she tell Emily when she couldn't even handle admitting it to herself?

The door to the block of flats was held open, as though inviting her in. She didn't thank the man who held it, nor did she even glance at him. He grumbled a complaint that she couldn't take on board as her hands shook harder. The tissue was even more broken up and she'd lost half of it, but she didn't discard it, she didn't want to let go of her only piece of comfort.

What else did she have now?

'Hello, can I help you?' a woman greeted, once she'd knocked on the door of flat 2A.

The woman's eyes narrowed with judgement. It didn't take a genius to work out who she was. Her impatient glares were enough to send her right back home to the comfort of her bed. She shared a look of Emily's twin sister.

'I need to see Emily,' she whispered, her voice broken, irreparably so.

'She's just gone to bed; she's had a long day.'

'Please,' she begged. 'I'm Naomi's mother, Gina.'

Mother Fitch stared her down, with further judgement. Gina couldn't feel it; nothing would make her feel the judgement of that woman. Not now. Not when saying her own daughter's name had become so difficult, almost impossible.

'Haven't your family done enough?' Jenna snarled with every bit of venom left in her. 'After everything Emily has been through, have you come round here to tell me she's sorry? That even though she told my poor Emily how much she means to her, she's still run off to God knows where to fuck God knows who?'

'No,' Gina cried, the verbal attack on her daughter washed away with fresh tears. She knew that wasn't the case, she knew that Naomi had only gone home because of a message from her friend, James. If it wasn't for him, no, she couldn't go down that line of thought. She couldn't lay blame, she didn't want to live life hating or regretting.

'Then what sort of sorry excuse has your Naomi got this time?'

'She, she,' Gina began, her words breaking up before she could complete them. Then a burst of energy filled her, made her say what she needed to. For Emily.

'She died.'

I hope you'll stay with me into the next few chapters...and please forgive me.