Yay, you didn't have to wait a whole week for this one!

I once again want to thank everyone reading this, and my reviewers...you all really know how to make a girl happy.

Well, I personally loved the number of you who jumped headfirst into the conclusion that I had just had Freddie top himself...unfortunately life for Naomi is going to get a LOT more complicated than that...sorry to have to end the smut for a while.

But...Enjoy, if you can...

Chapter 25 – Dark Clouds

Naomi:

I had never seen Cook like this, I had known him forever and I had never witnessed anything other than tears of joy fall across his face. I didn't have a clue what the fuck was going on and I still found myself needing to fight back the emotion that threatened to droop over my cheeks. He was struggling and I was fucking helpless. We must had been walking around in the rain for about half an hour before he slouched himself backwards, under the shelter of a bus stop, and replaced his hair before meeting my worried gaze with his own.

He didn't speak, just unstuck his shirt from his chest and miraculously managed to produce a completely dry spliff and light it with ease. I watched as he leant his head backwards, breathing in the calming smoke deeply before exhaling fluidly into the darkening evening air. Still he said nothing, just stared out into the drenched sky, allowing himself to be completely taken over by the silence that descended and the mellowing effects of weed. I had never seen James Cook like this, he looked empty, a shell of the usually very hyped up guy who would generally be wandering around town trying to get his dick wet at this hour.

I felt my heart drop as I looked at him properly, I could see the beginning of a terrible bruise on his right arm, a few scratches on his face and I'm almost certain that he was holding his knee as if it was causing him some amount of pain. Bile rose up in the back of my throat, I didn't have many friends, I never really let people in, I didn't really have that many friends...But the few I did have I would gladly die for. Yet sitting here, watching the night roll effortlessly over us, I felt fucking useless. Cook had helped me through so much pathetic shit, he had been my rock against the world and now I was too afraid of the answer that I couldn't even bring myself to ask him what was wrong. So the only sound that wound its way around us was the careful drum of rain on the perspex roof above our heads, I knew he would let me know what happened when he was ready so I just linked my arm through his and placed my head, gently, on his shoulder.

I was fucking knackered, the exhaustion of my current sexathon with Emily took that moment to hit me square between the eyes and make everything seem that little bit fuzzy. One thing was for damn sure, I couldn't leave him, squinting slightly in a vague attempt to wake myself up and rubbing at my eyes carefully, I removed myself from his resonating warmth and stared into the night. My focus wandered, flicking between watching him smoke cigarette after cigarette and gazing idly into the sky. I watched as it changed from burnt orange to that gorgeous deep blue before eventually settling into the serene shade of indigo flawed only by the smoky grey clouds that were drifting aimlessly. The rain had all but cleared and the goose bumps rising up on my arms suggested that it was starting to get chilly; I shifted towards him, trying to share our body heat so our damp clothing didn't mean either of us contracted pneumonia. He draped his arm around my shoulder, pulled me in tightly and let out a deep breath that imprinted itself on the cooling night air.

The hum of London traffic traced through the silence, sirens flared nearby and the occasional drunk interrupted the general calm that had surrounded us. I could feel him breathing from his tight embrace; each lift of his ribcage was laboured as though he was fighting back the tears that, in light of the disappearing rain, he didn't want me to see. We must have been sat there for a good hour before he took that resoundingly deep breath that suggested speech...I just held mine in anticipation.

"It's all fucked Naomikins..." He paused, rubbed his palms on his thighs and stood up swiftly before putting his hands deeply into his pockets. In the light of the bus shelter I noticed the rip in the back of his shirt as he paced away from me, he wanted to retain some aura of strength...I guessed that he was working up to actually telling me what the fuck was going on. I felt my stomach tighten as his head dropped into his hands, as her nervously scratched the back of his neck and gazed up into the now clear sky...almost begging for the guts to just let it out. From somewhere I found strength of my own, got to my feet and walked around until I was in front of him, taking his hands in my own and pulling him down into the most comforting hug I could muster.

"Don't keep it locked away...It will destroy you." I whispered and tensed myself against him, trying in some way to pass some of my new found strength onto him, letting him know that no matter what; the worst thing he could do right now was to keep it bottled up until he exploded.

"Paddy..." Just this one word was enough to send shockwaves down my spine revolving around just how terrible this was going to be, his little brother. Cook hated his family; his dad had spent most of his childhood in prison before running away to some god awful town to live in a boat. His drunk excuse for a mother had kicked him out of home more times than I care to count and as such he had spent most of his time growing up alone, I was the closest thing he had to actual family...except for Paddy. Cook would do anything for his little brother, it brought tears to my eyes remembering the numerous birthdays and Christmases I had witnessed where his mother would get smashed and Cook would just hold Paddy until he fell asleep before carrying him to bed. I swallowed, removed myself from his arms and looked into his eyes, he was empty...no glistening spark, just a furrowed brow and elements that resounding depression had taken him over completely.

"James...what happened?" I asked slowly, winching as he pulled away from me, obviously trying anything he could to stop himself from crying. I had never seen him look like this before, even when he had his heart crushed and spat on, even through all the shit he was put through growing up...he just used to drink, smoke and fuck his way through it. But now, in the face of whatever was wrong with his little brother, he was bare with naked emotion...and it was fucking heartbreaking. I waited for him to tell me, but once again it seemed he was reverting into his shell, plastering those barriers back up and sheltering himself from harm by not letting anyone in. Instead he just took my hand and intertwined our fingers, it felt alien and took all my strength not to pull away from his giant hands, Emily's hands were so small and smooth in comparison...but I let him lead me away.

I trusted Cook with my life and as such followed him, hand in hand, to wherever it was he was taking me. We walked silently through street after street, I didn't really know my bearings on foot but I figured we must be heading towards town considering the random drunks were becoming less random and the white noise emanating from the traffic built in crescendo. When I saw the illuminating bright white lights I blinked, not just because the sudden onslaught of luminescence was slightly blinding, but in hopeful disbelief that it was plain coincidence that we were walking towards a hospital. I crossed everything that we were just going to end up walking past the sparkling glass automatic doors, I would have gladly walked anywhere fucking else if it meant that Paddy was ok. I could feel my pulse quicken with that niggling twinge of distraught as Cook did turn towards the grubby white walls of St Guys hospital. Fuck.

I fucking hated hospitals, all the staff were far too happy in their disgusting attempt to hide the hidden truth of pain, suffering and death. But being here with Cook, my near as damn it brother, knowing that somewhere within these walls led one of the few people he cared about...was soul destroying. We twisted and turned around the far too pristine halls, I didn't notice any signs or ward names...really; I was far too concerned with the sorrow hinting anger starting flowing over Cook's face. I saw some kind of reception appear in view no more than a few meters in front of us...I felt my stomach sink and automatically squeezed Cook's hand; hard. Waiting patiently until someone pulled into view on a black office chair, I was fighting back the tears I knew I didn't have the right to cry and just watched as Cook steadied himself.

"Here to identify a body..." His voice was croaked now and there was nothing more I could do to stop the relentless tears from creasing over my cheeks except continually pinching the arm that was attached to Cook in the hope of waking up from this terrible dream.

"Name please?" I wanted to punch her, how could she make this so fucking impersonal, not even bothering to say a whole fucking sentence in response. Fucking heartless cow.

"James Cook...but my brother's name is Paddy, um...Patrick Byatt..." I clutched myself against him and just watched as the bitch with no name fiddled through some paper, my own brow creased as she looked up at us from her files, confusion plastered all over her face.

"I'm sorry sir, but the constable is in there with Mr Byatt's mother as we speak...she is after all the next of kin." I felt Cook tense, saw him start to breathe faster and spun myself around until I was in front of him before capturing his cheeks in my hands and making him look at my tear drenched face. I pleaded him with my eyes to be calm, shook my head slightly without losing his gaze and was rewarded as he released the clench in his jaw. Instead of dealing with things in his usual, fist flying, door breaking way, I was so relieved when I managed to drag him over to the stupidly uncomfy plastic seating so we could just wait.

It seemed like an eternity, but glancing up at the plain clock decorating the dullness, I noted that it had been exactly eight minutes until the double doors swung open and Cook vaulted to his feet in some form of instinctive reaction. Three people emerged, a rather plump looking man in a very grubby brown suit and glancing up at him I noticed the most awful hairpiece imaginable...then there was of course the token uniformed bobby and the stone hearted bitch that was Cook's mother. Ruth was as plain faced as ever, but at least she had the decency to arrive vaguely sober, she just looked at her eldest son before slapping him full force across the face and collapsing against the uniform in blistering sobs. The policeman just looked shocked for a few brief moments before putting his arm carefully around her heaving shoulders and guiding her along the corridor probably in search of some fresh air.

Cook and I were just left in silence, staring at Detective Toupee and I was more than a little confused as to what the fuck was going on. Agitation filled up within me, twinged with obvious sadness...but how ever depressed Cook was he could at least tell me what the fuck had happened.

"I need to take a statement from you son...take a seat..." I just swallowed, I was allowed to stay and listen to Cook's course of events and as each thing became more and more clear, tears started falling harder and faster.

"Freds was down because Naomi broke up with him and he got the fucking sack so he phoned and asked me to meet him in town, Paddy and I told him to get his arse to the pub for a right good night...I didn't realise he was fucked off his face...then the car just kind of swerved, came right towards us like. It all happened so fast, I tried to push him out of the way but..." I watched as his hands wiped over his cheeks, crying in front of me was hard enough for Cook to deal with, let alone showing his emotions to a complete stranger. I couldn't breathe, listening to every word killed me even more...it was Freddie, he had driven fucked off his face and ploughed straight into them both, he killed Paddy and I was stuck with the feeling that it was all my fault. I knew that should be the last thing on my mind, self loathing could wait because Cook needed the strength of our friendship now more than ever...but I couldn't shake off the feeling that in some strikingly coherent string of thought...if I hadn't broken Freddie into a million pieces, Cook's brother would still be alive. I needed to get the fuck out of there but thankfully it looked like he was done with his statement so without much pause for thought we left, back out into the now cold night air.

Silence, neither of us could think of anything to say as we made our way solemnly back to Emily's apartment...some small part of me thought that he did blame me; I fucking blamed me so why shouldn't he? I wanted to comfort him, kiss his forehead and tell him that everything would be ok and that Paddy was in a better place, but I know he didn't believe that shit...Cook saw death as rotting in the ground, that's why he tried to live his life to the fullest. Really...there was nothing I could fucking say, I was absolutely useless. I couldn't even muster the strength to give him a hug, so he left me on my doorstep with a kiss still stinging on my cheek as I watched him walk away. Nothing made sense, it felt like my whole world had been turned upside down in the matter of a few hours, Cook was hurting, needed me to keep him calm and on track before going on the almighty piss up I assumed he was about to take part in...and now I was stuck with the resounding notion that this was all my own fucking fault. I didn't care about the fucking consequences and now I had destroyed more lives than I cared to count, rustling with the key Emily had had cut for me I made sure the door was locked before collapsing in a quivering ball on the sofa and crying gently to myself.

Time passed, all light vanished until I was left in the peaceful darkness, my thoughts keeping me from sleep and my body shivering against everything. I was just staring out into the blackness, rocking ever so slightly and wishing that I could change everything. I didn't hear her, but without warning she had wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and pulled me into her chest, rocking with me, running her fingers soothingly through the back of my hair and kissing the top of my head so gently I could barely feel it.

"It'll be ok..." She just kept whispering those three words at me, over and over again, Emily really was fucking amazing, no idea what the fuck was going on and here she was holding me and letting me cry it out...fatigue eventually took over and I fell into a deep, uninterrupted sleep surrounded by the comfort of her embrace, wishing that she was right...wanting nothing more than for everything to just be ok...

So there you have it...to be honest that is the first little taste of depression from this story, I'll be weird now and say I actually kind of like writing depressing stuff, gives me a chance to explore imagery in a deeper way!

Well, hope it wasn't too upsetting for you all...leave me a review and let me know!

Big love to you all as always...