A/N: I need to stop starting stories when I'm bored.

No idea where this one is going, as per. I wasn't going to post it until I had more of it done, but what the hell, right?

Fair bit of angst in this one to start with, so if that's not your thing, then feel free to read something else.

Right, then... on with it.

Disclaimer: I do not own skins. Blah blah blah. Any and all typos are a figment of your imagination.


(Naomi POV)

Bristol. My home town. It's a complete shit hole that I fled from a few years ago, at a time when things got too much for me. I swore to myself then, that I'd never return, if I could avoid it. There were places that I remembered like the back of my hand. The first flat I had in London. My second flat in London that I shared with my then-girlfriend. I loved her, but not in that deep, all-consuming way that renders you unable to imagine life without the other person you are in love with. Five years I'd lived in London. One of which could have been better, and four that weren't completely perfect, but that I was content enough with. But I'd never forget my home town, no matter how shitty it was.

I'd not kept in touch with anyone from Bristol when I had left, save for my mother and Kieran. I guess that I was a bit of a coward. There were some things about me that, at the time, I wasn't willing to accept. But I have regrets, and fears, just like everyone else. When you leave one town for another, there are always people you leave behind. My mother, bless her, didn't want me to go. I was eighteen when I left. I hadn't told any of my friends, but I'd applied to university in London, and had been accepted. Mum knew, but had been sworn to not tell anyone else other than Kieran. I'd changed my mobile number, and instructed her not to give it to anyone when I finally called her some weeks after I had left. It was a shitty thing to do, and I felt like a complete cunt for it, but sometimes there are things you just have to do.

They say negative things happen in threes. Usually, it's bad things, but only two out of the three were bad, as such. First, I lost my job. It doesn't really matter what I was doing, the only thing that mattered was that it paid well. Second, my girlfriend and I split up. That was the thing that wasn't so bad. We were still friends, and I felt we always would be, but after a long discussion one night, we both realised that we just didn't have that deep, all-consuming connection between us. That, and she wanted her freedom to pursue other people. Sounds harsh, but that's the crux of what happened between us. I could bounce back easily from either of those two, it was something that could be solved easily, given enough time and patience.

The third thing was what brought me back to my home town. It came in the form of an early morning phone call from Kieran. He told me that I needed to come back to Bristol. When I asked him why, there was a very long pause on the line. I heard him exhale a deep breath, and he then told me how mum had been in the wrong place, at the wrong time, shot and killed by store thieves, the day before.

Me? I hadn't been back to Bristol since the day I left, which was the last day I had seen my mother alive.

There are things you don't forget. People, places, sights, sounds... I'll never forget the tears she held back, as she kissed me goodbye the day I left. I remember my friends, too... Even though I had no contact with them, I could still picture them in my mind, but it served a double purpose of reminding me of how things were before they got complicated in my head, as well as making me regret my decisions. I never asked what mum had told any of them, I didn't really want to know. But as I stood there on the platform after disembarking from the train, I realised, not for the first time, that I had been a complete fool for disappearing the way I did. Kieran was a good man, he had that Irish charm, I suppose, and was rather a jolly sort. He had things to tie up after mum's death, and he wasn't able to come and meet me when I arrived. I told him that it was fine, that I understood... But for the first time in about ten years, I felt alienated and alone in my own home town, and a long lost, but still familiar feeling of dread settled in my stomach.

The only other thing on my mind except grief, was the hope that no one from my past recognised me. The hope that they too had all spread their wings and flown off to whichever corners of the earth they could find. But, it couldn't be that simple, could it? Nothing ever is. You hope on hope that it's just going to be black and white and straight forward. It never is. There's always murky areas to trip you up. To make you question things, and especially yourself.

When I was fourteen, I kissed a girl. Or rather, she kissed me, at a party. It made me feel things that felt crazy to me. It confused me, because I'd never entertained the idea that I might be gay. Or straight... or... well, anything, really. Hadn't even occurred to me. I'd been more interested in learning things about the environment, and caring for animals, and whole other bunch of hippie shit that Gina had put into my head. When I finally admitted it to myself when I was twenty, that I had no attraction to men past casual conversation, mum had told me it was about bloody time, and that she'd known all along. Typical.

The girl who kissed me was one of the reasons I had left. We'd sort of formed a shaky friendship, that was always something more on her end. She knew it, I knew it, but I resisted it. We'd ended up sleeping together. Or rather, she lured me into the woods for sex. My thought about that always makes me chuckle and shake my head now. Denial is a river in Egypt, as Gina would have said, and I wasn't just swimming in it, I was fucking drowning. Sleeping with her wasn't the issue, actually, for a first time I suppose it was alright. It was how it confused me that was the problem.

A harsh, lispy voice pulled me from my thoughts and back into the bustling station.

"...and make sure you go round to my flat and pick up my mail! I don't want to miss my subscription to HEAT, loser."

I knew that harsh, lispy tone. Sounds you never forget, right? The first time I'd heard it was when it was shouting at me to "get the fuck off my sister, bitch!", just before the right hook of one Katie Fitch came into contact with my nose. Thank Christ it had been an end-of-year party, not that I was as obsessed with appearances as Mademoiselle Fitch was, but the lingering pressure of a broken nose isn't that much fun to deal with at the best of times, let alone when you're supposed to be learning.

The next sound I knew I would never ever forget, came, as expected, hot on the heels of the lisp.

"Yes, Katie." The voice replied, in its smooth huskiness. The same smooth huskiness that shook me whenever I'd heard it as a teenager.

Emily.

I panicked, my heart began to race, and I ducked behind a pole that was big enough to mask my presence. I spotted the two of them, still as pint-sized as ever, Katie still decking herself out in what looked like a safari slaughter of animal prints. Her hair was different, a bit longer, and an entirely different shade to the purple shade I remember it being. Emily's was still the same shade of cherry red, and she was wearing a knee-length tartan skirt, and a black leather jacket. When she turned, I also noticed she was wearing a sky blue top. She still looked beautiful. They both were, but Katie's attitude made her less attractive than her looks. I doubt she's changed any, given the fact that she still seems to be bossing Emily around like it was her life's work.

"Have you got everything?" Emily asked. "Tickets, money, passport?"

"Yes, yes... all set." Katie replied. "Now tell me you'll miss me, bitch!" She added, drawing Emily into what looked to be a crushing and possibly uncomfortable hug.

"I'll miss you, Katie." She nodded. "Send a few postcards, yeah?"

"Pfft... If I can find time between the men and the sun... I'll see what I can do."

A sharp whistle came from the conductor's car. "ALL ABOARD!"

"Bye, Emsy!" Katie waved, before stepping onto the train with her laughably pink leopard-print luggage.

"Bye, Katie." Emily replied, as the train began to pull its way out of the station. Typically, Katie stuck her hand out the window and waved. Emily waved back, and watched as the train departed. She stood still for a moment as I watched her, then looked around like she knew she was being watched. Bugger, I thought to myself. Just keep moving, Naomi... Forget you saw her.

I turned to walk out of the station, and immediately bumped into someone who was carrying two large bags. They went down, and so did I. Right, so much for making a sneaky exit, then.

"Watch where you're fucking going!" The man said, as I stood up and dusted myself off.

"Sorry." I said, flatly, picking up my rather full backpack. I wasn't in the mood to argue with him. I replaced my bag on my shoulder, and as bad luck would have it, immediately lifted my eyes only to be met with the brown eyes of one Emily Fitch, as she stood about ten feet away from me. I felt my own eyes grow wide, and my heart begin to race in my chest. Fight or flight?

"N-naomi?" Emily said, walking towards me and clearly not believing her eyes.

"Uh...no. Sorry. You've got me mixed up with someone else. Excuse me." I said, quickly, as I turned and walked out of the station as fast as my feet would carry me. I stepped quickly towards the taxi rank, hearing Emily's voice behind me. Flight wins, then.

Goddammit, why does she always have to be fucking following me?

"Naomi, WAIT!" I heard her call, as I stepped into the first taxi I could find.

"Brandon Hill, mate. Make it quick." I said to the driver, and luckily for me, he was able to drive off then and there.

I didn't turn back. But I caught sight of her in the rear-view mirror. The baffled expression on her face, even in that tiny mirror told me that she had a million questions. Where I'd been, why I'd left... But it wasn't a time when I could answer them. It hadn't been then, when I had skipped town at eighteen. And now, I had the emotional task of my mother's funeral to get through.

I told myself then, sitting in the back of that taxi, that if I saw her again, I would try not to run from her. Maybe it was time to fix all the regrets in my life. The regret of never returning home to see my mum would always be with me. She was gone now, and I couldn't change that, as much as I wanted to. Get through the funeral first, I told myself. Deal with the rest later.

I did just that. A hollow ache settled inside my stomach, as I stood at the foot of her grave, cemetery workmen shoveling fresh dirt over her coffin. Another thing I would never forget, but something I felt too young to have to deal with. Gina Campbell wasn't supposed to die from a robber's bullet. She was meant to die peacefully, as she had lived, with her family surrounding her. In that moment, life just seemed nothing short of completely cruel and pointless, and I felt utterly empty inside.


It was another two weeks before I saw her again. I was sitting in a coffee shop, reading my much dog-eared copy of The Catcher In The Rye, and enjoying a double espresso. I was deeply concentrating on the words I was reading, trying to forget the depression in my head, when I heard the scrape of a chair, and the soft, dull thud of a large, filled cardboard cup resting on the table in front of me.

"Fuck off, I'm busy." I muttered, not taking my eyes off the page.

"So, it IS you." The husky voice I would never forget proclaimed, sending a cold chill down my spine and making me drop my book on the table, the pages of which fell shut. I looked up, to see Emily Fitch looking back at me, looking as painfully gorgeous as I remember her being, half an amused smirk on her lips.

"E-emily..." I stuttered.

"Hi." She replied, her smirk turning into a soft smile.

"Uh...hi." I said.

She reached over and picked up my paperback. "The Catcher In The Rye... not much changes, then?"

I looked at her blankly, because she didn't know exactly how wrong that statement was. "Uhm..." I lowered my head, and sighed. I cleared my throat, facing her with a defiant look in my eyes. "What do you want, Emily?"

She peered at me briefly, and then nodded, slowly. "Yeah... still the same, aren't you? Still the same Naomi who left me and everyone else without a word, changing her number and not leaving a forwarding address." She said, with a hurt tone. I stared blankly again, simply because I didn't really have a response to the painful, but obvious truth. "I guess I was mad to think that you'd changed, or something." She stood up, and picked up her drink from where she had set it on the table. "Well, I guess it was nice running into you again. I'll...try not to bother you anymore." She added, before turning and walking away.

I watched as she walked out of the coffee shop, the door closing behind her.

Christ, Naomi... you utter fucking wanker! Go after her and at least apologise for being such a twat!

I finished my coffee, shoved my paperback into my satchel, and quickly exited through the same door that Emily just had. I looked to my left, then to my right, spotting her off in the distance. I kept a fast pace, and eventually caught up to her. "Emily...wait!" I blurted out, unsure of what else to say. If I could just make her wait long enough to apologise...

She turned around, and faced me. Her eyes looked so sad, and it made me remember the last time I had seen them that sad. It had been when we had all found out Freddie had been murdered. The look in her eyes just stabbed right into my heart, with something so hot it didn't just burn, it seared.

I took a deep breath, and swallowed my uneasiness. "I'm sorry. I'm a bit of a twat." I said, looking down at my feet.

"You said it." She said, flatly.

I stared for a brief moment, and thought better of just turning away from her. "Right. I guess I deserve that." I said, curtly. "Uh...look. Have you got any time? I'll try and explain, if you want me to."

Emily looked at her watch. "I have an appointment in an hour."

I nodded. "It might take a bit longer, but I can try and fit as much as I can in an hour."

"Right. Come on, then." Emily said, turning and beginning to walk up the street.

We ended up, less than ten minutes later, in a small park near a post office. Emily sat down on a bench, and made room for me too, so I sat next to her. We sat there for probably about twenty minutes, while I struggled with what to say.

"So..." She said, clearing her throat. "The short version, then."

"Right." I replied. "Uh...well, at the end of college, I got accepted at uni in London."

"You told me you didn't even apply to London." Emily replied.

"I know. I was a bit reluctant with the truth. Sorry." I said. "Anyway... I just upped and went to London. I've lived and worked there the past five years. But, then I lost my job, became single, and..." I paused. "Uh... I had to come back."

"Why? I mean, it was obviously so easy for you to leave everyone behind. Even your mum didn't tell me anything about where you went." Emily said, the hurt tone still in her voice. "She misses you, you know. I still talk to her from time to time."

I half smiled. Gina always did like Emily, and while she had suspected that Emily might have had something to do with my sudden, secretive departure, she never asked, and I never told. "Yeah." I said, my voice wavering. I was silent for a moment, swallowing the lump in my throat and trying to compose myself and not cry. I hated letting people see me cry, least of all Emily Fitch. I sniffled slightly. "Sorry." I muttered.

"No, I'm sorry. I've obviously said something to upset you." Emily said, her tone apologetic.

I shook my head. "No. You just have no idea, that's all. But how do you break something like that easily?" I mumbled.

"Like what?" Emily paused. "Naomi... what's wrong?" She asked.

"She's dead, Emily." I said, almost whispering. "She was killed in a convenience store robbery, two days before you saw me at the station."

"Oh god, Naomi..." Emily said, sliding her arm around my shoulders and pulling me into a tight hug. "I had no idea, I'm so sorry!"

I let her hug me, because it was still so raw I started crying again. Five years and her arms were still comforting to me. After all the shit I'd done to her, pushing her way, not being sure about myself, being happy together for a while, and then finally leaving without a word, she still pulled me into the familiar tight embrace of her arms. It was like I'd never actually left Bristol at all. Eventually, I felt something vibrating between us, and Emily released her hold around me. She reached into her jacket and pulled out her mobile.

"Shit." She frowned, reading the text. "I'm really sorry... I have to go, work needs me back early."

"It's fine." I said, wiping my eyes.

Emily shook her head. "No, it isn't. Give me your phone."

"What?"

She held her hand out, her eyebrow raised in question. I rolled my eyes and handed her my phone. She keyed her number in, and handed it back to me. "It's actually the same number, but I'm not sure you'd remember it." She said. "No pressure, but... if you want to talk, call me. In fact, if you need anything..."

"Emily..."

"No, I insist. I know there's a lot in our past, Naomi. But we can worry about that later. I'm just saying, if you need someone to talk to..."

"Right." I said quietly. Emily stood up, as did I. "Uh... thanks. For the hug."

Emily shrugged. "It's the least I can do, yeah?" She said, gently rubbing my bicep. She leaned up and kissed my cheek softly. "See you around?"

"Uh... we'll see."

Emily nodded, and walked away, leaving me standing with my stomach churning, and my cheek on fire, right where here lips had been pressed against it. I tightened the strap on my bag, shoved my hands into my pockets, put my head down and began to walk back to my late mum's house.


A/N#2: Well, there's the first bit... anyone interested in what happens next?

Like it, hate it...let me know.

Cheers for reading.

~GN~ xo