AUTHOR'S NOTE: Exciting news, everyone! There are officially only 3 remaining chapters following the one I am posting today. It's been a long and arduous journey getting Embers to this point, but I wanted to thank you guys for the continued support over the years.

Also, Embers is likely to be my final jont into fanfiction, possibly on a permanent basis. But I have enjoyed the time I have spent in the Naomily fandom. My time and dedication will very shortly be turning to making sure my own work is complete. But the fics I've read and the friends I've made in the Naomily community will always be special to me.

So without another moment's wasted time, let us begin the downward path to the end.

I still loved processing my film in the old fashioned dark room. At least when it came to scoped out photos like these, not single shots taken by a model or a specific artifact that I'd seen around the city, but the movement of light and color could only be captured in a myriad of ways that couldn't be tapped by anything else than the quick flash of the Canon camera my last job in this city had gotten me. A former client had been impressed with some shots I'd taken at a protest rally not long after the world was all up in arms about the downfall of Wall Street. Said I had a real eye for movement and if I were ever interested to contact them.

Considering I'd been in the city for over two weeks and still hadn't heard a word from Naomi and more than my fair share of words from my sister I'd eagerly taken the job. A dance company couldn't pay me very much, but what I couldn't gain in dollars and cents (American fucking currency, never made any bloody sense), I could obtain in notoriety. "Because fuck all who knows how long I'm going to be here," I'd told Katie over the phone just moments ago.

"I can keep paying your hotel bills for as long as you want, Ems, and I'm glad you've got your focus on photos again, but you can't keep dodging about Naomi's neighborhood hoping you'll spot her in a flower shop like some goddamn romcom or some shit. It's stalking. And you'd grown out of it. So I'd assumed."

Plucking yet another photo from just outside the dark room and slipping it into a frame to be delivered within the hour, I added, "I got on a plane, Katie, what else does she want?"

"Maybe the last two years back?" I could've dropped the damn thing with how quickly my blood pressure went up, my mouth opening and closing at least one before I replied,

"You were one of the ones who told me to end it with her."

"True, but you did make the decision on your own. And I told you to move on in the process. Fucking stupid I was to do that. Like you ever could. Or will." Five years ago that would've been enough to bring us down to a damn near brawl. But considering Katie was out in Scotland there was very little I could do in the way of arse kickings. So I could either bitch to her over the phone, or I could concede. At least for the time being.

"Fuck off, Katie," I landed on, "but thanks. I really like this company I think this exhibit they're hoping to work towards will get me a few more leads. More leads, more money, less you have to pay."

"I well like that idea, but why don't you contact your older clientele instead of these newer ones. I assumed you'd have to do less schmoozing work." I licked my lips as I considered my next answer, my fingers slowly running up and down the crease of the photo stack before I responded,

"It's harder to miss her in crowds."

A clicking sound in my ear informed me I had a text message and with a quick goodbye to Katie I had the inbox opened. It was from Naomi, and the only thing it gave me was an address with the instructions: Meet me at the top in an hour.

I wanted to go off on her. How dare she assume that I didn't have something else better to do than to follow her cryptic messages to a place I'd never been to before, not knowing anything about New York apart from my cozy little hideaway in Manhattan. Some areas were more dangerous than downtown London after a football game. But with a sigh, I did exactly what she knew I would, I texted back: On my way. Don't know where I'm going so don't leave until I get there. Just as I locked the black room door and headed out of the front of the studio my phone vibrated in kind yet again: I'll be waiting.

Standing below in the street, I looked up at the tall building and knew exactly what Naomi had meant by her clear, yet vague, instructions. We both had always had a bit of a flair for the dramatic. Apparently it's the rooftops again. There was nothing particularly special about the building, it was just some semblance of a makeshift office with one hallway leading down to another. The lift was out of service so I had to use the stairs. With each step I became more and more winded and I couldn't help but think how long it must have taken Naomi to climb each set if she were waiting for me.

Eventually I pushed open the rooftop door, and found us both to be utterly alone. She looked so striking, standing there leaning on her walker, eyes turned out to the skyline of the city. Power wires, graffiti, a mixture of concrete, brick and steel painted her backdrop beautifully. I blinked. Just enough to get a snapshot of a memory.

I knew she heard me approach, but she didn't turn until I was seated on the edge of the ledge, wrapping my arms tightly. She smiled down at me, the wind cupping the bottom of her chin softly.

"Hey," I began.

"Thanks," she said simply. She knew she didn't have to say what for. It took her a moment but eventually she was seated beside me. My hand remained at the small of her back, just out of sheer need to know she wasn't going to topple to the street behind me. She didn't shift away. So there it stayed. "So, what're we doing up here?"

"We ended it here. The first time." Her tone was somber, but very crisp and clear. I swallowed the groan bubbling in my throat. I didn't want to rehash this again. Looked like I was given no choice.

"We didn't end anything. You cheated on me. I stayed with you in spite of that."

"You stayed with me because of that." Her head turned to me. My eyes hadn't left her since she came into view, but this was the first time I could tell she'd been crying. Hours ago, the streaks were long dry but there was still a faint hint of red at the bottom of her lids. A confusing twinge hoped for a second that maybe she'd had a fag or some shit instead. I knew that wasn't true. "I was horrible. I tried to keep it from you. Tried to keep everything from you. Tried to hide the shame of the fact that at any point and time anything I'd done had been done out of spite to hurt you. When all you did was love me." She sighed and turned her head forward as I continued to listen. "But I did pay for it, Emily. In spades."

"Yeah. You deserved some of it though."

"Did I?" She turned so sharply that for a brief moment I thought I was going to have to go from only minimally invading her space to wrapping myself around her entirely. But she sat firm and tall. "You should've just told me to fuck off and never bothered with me again."

Now my blood was starting to boil. No would could call my love and loyalty into question. Not even Naomi fucking Campbell.

"You and I both know there was no way I could do that."

"Why, because I asked you to?"

"No. Because I loved you. Because in spite of what you did to me, I knew you loved me to." I paused and waited for a reaction, waiting for her to accept what I said to tell me I was right or to tell me this was a waste of time, to tell me something other than drudging up long dead demons. But there was nothing for several seconds but the wind and sounds of birds overhead and street noises below. I removed my hand. "Naomi, we've talked about this, we've moved past this, why bring it up again."

This time her voice was tender, less accusatory, like she realized how dangerously venomous this conversation was becoming and knew that history had proven dialogue like this only had two endings. Fight. Or fuck. One was clearly, for now, off the table. And both of us didn't seem like we wanted the former. "In the last two years I've wondered. A lot. Whether we were ever right for each other. Whether we ever had any business belonging to each other at all."

"How can you say-"

"Wait, let me finish. You fly back here out of the blue with no warning and expect things to just fix themselves. I had cancer, Emily. I will probably, always, still be sick. There's nothing that can change that. I fought back because you begged, pleaded with me to." Tears began to bubble under my eyes. My hands wrung themselves in my lap as I briefly shut my eyes closed to choke back the tears and clear my throat. This time it was Naomi's hand on my lap.

"You wanted to give up?"

Her voice was sadder still, barely above a whisper. But I would hear her even if bombs were going off overhead. "Not at first. No. I fought like hell. But it was hard, doing it alone. But I didn't think there was any other way."

I turned to her, shift, beginning to fit into an entrance way I knew how to muddle my way through, if someone didn't see my side I'd damn well fucking make them. "Of course there was a way, there's always a way." She squeezed my leg gently and I sensed it wasn't time for me to interrupt.

"I kept reminding myself that if I ever stopped you'd never forgive me. But I was so sick. I was so tired. I haven't stopped being tired, Emily. It's been years since I've closed my eyes and not woken up in some figment of sleep and awake. I kept waiting and waiting to move past it, for things to right themselves again in the world. But they never did. Because you weren't there whenever the sun came up. It seems like a flash in the pan now."

Her eyes were getting that far away look again and I knew if I didn't pull her out of her prose and metaphors soon that we'd be sitting up in the wind, blustering about for who knew how much longer. And right now I just wanted to hold her. I'd wanted to do that since I laid eyes on her. And this, this hand on my knee was far more intimate than anything I'd experienced in the last two years. I wasn't going to let it funnel away. And I wasn't going to wait longer than I had to for more. "What are we doing up here, Naomi?"

Reaching her hand into her pocket, Naomi produced a set of hotel room keys. My ears started to burn and my heart hammered at the possible implications that I couldn't stop running through my mind. "I've rented us a room at the Hilton." I wiped my nose on the back of my hand, sniffling back, and tried to say in a somewhat alluring tone,

"You hate pomp and circumstance."

Naomi smiled. Fuck I've missed that smile. I've missed her smiling at me. Looking at me. Anything at me. But it was readily gone as she shook her head, acknowledging that what I thought or wanted was not being placed on the bargaining table. "Mostly because it will ensure us that we won't be disturbed and we won't have to leave for anything. We're going to hash this out. We've got the weekend. We'll start at the beginning and work our way through, and if we can find a reason to be together-I'm willing to give us another chance. But, Emily, you have to understand, you have to accept that maybe there's a chance we don't. Not in the forever sense. And if that's the conclusion we come to, it won't take away anything we've done or everything we were."

I stood. I had to. This-this was just too much. And it wasn't enough. I stuck the card in between us, me now a head above her as I harnessed my frustration for these terms and conditions into one small, thin little object. I was practically spitting to keep my tone under control.

"Why should I accept those terms and conditions. This is a borderline ultimatum." I knelt in front of her. I'd stay on my knees for days if that's what it took, but I didn't want to talk anymore. I just wanted us fixed. I didn't want to have to bang out every good and bad about the last few years. I didn't want to relive any of it. I just wanted now. I just wanted Naomi. "I love you, and I want to be with you."

As if she understood, Naomi's tone didn't rise or fall. Instead she leaned down and placed a soft, lingering kiss on my lips. The tiny releasing spark of our lips being separated felt like she had funneled he breath right out of my lungs. I couldn't protest any longer even if I wanted.

"It's the best I can give you, Emily. Time has taken too much. From us both."

I didn't like it. I doubted I was meant to. "I'll do whatever it takes," I concluded, as I offered up my hands to help Naomi stand into her walker. I didn't expect her to accept, but from the flush of her skin touching mine, I could tell she had wanted a moment's more contact, even if her determined pride would prevent her from asking for it.

"I know you mean that." I let her cross pass me and head toward the stairs. I didn't dare ask her if I could help her in her descent, mostly because I feared I'd ask her to hop on my back so we could just fly right back to England together. "Meet me there in an hour."

It wasn't what I had wanted. But it wasn't silence. It was something.