Seven Stages

A/N: I was doing this as a one shot but actually I'm posting as I go along, so it will probably be a two or maybe three shot.

There are apparently seven stages of grief - shock, disbelief, anger, bargaining, guilt, depression and acceptance. I was going to put the story into sections under each heading but it was pretty difficult as sometimes things leapt around. So anyway, I've tried to write them in broadly in order but allowed some overlaps along the way.

If you read the preamble chapter you'll know this is probably the only story I'll write based on Fire. After this I'm going back to my fluff (mixed with a bit of angst of course) and I hope you'll join me.

As ever let me know what you think.

You tilt your head as you line up the camera, perfect, you think as your finger hovers over the shutter release.

Naomi's going to love this one.

You have no idea why she pops into your head at at moment, but then again being apart so much means she often does, you're always storing information to tell her the next time you Skype or speak on the phone.

A vibrating in your pocket tips you off balance, it's only slight but it's enough to make the butterfly flap its wings and fly away.

"Shit!" you curse loudly, you've been waiting to get that shot, not making a move and now it's ruined.

"What's the matter Em?" Your fellow intern AJ asks with a grin.

"I was waiting to get the right shot and my bloody phone rang." You say exasperatedly.

He shrugs nonchalantly, "Better get used to it, that or switch your phone off."

You know it shouldn't be switched on, not when you're working, but Naomi's been erratic when she rings lately and you hate to miss her calls. E-mail is a God send, but it's not the same as hearing her voice or seeing her on screen. Sometimes it's the only thing that keeps you sane now you're across the Atlantic.

You reach for the phone intending to switch it off, the missed call was Effy, not Naomi. Before you have a chance to call back it rings again. This time you answer.

"Effy, this had better be important, you just cost me the perfect photo." You say only half joking.

Silence.

You wonder if she dialled by mistake, a clumsy redial from the bottom of a pocket or bag.

"Effy are you there?"

You're about to hang up when a small noise at the other end stops you. It sounds like a 'yes' but you can't be sure.

"This is getting creepy. Effy say something for Christ's sake." You're clearly running out of patience.

"You need to come home."

Nothing else, just an instruction.

"Has Naomi put you up to this because she's still mad I won't be back for Christmas? I can't get any time off, holidays are much shorter here. I'll be back in a couple of months as planned." You explain.

"No Emily, you need to come home now."

The desperate edge to her voice turns your blood to ice in your veins.

"Why Eff? What's wrong? Tell me, is it Naomi?"

Your own desperation is evident, Effy never rings you, yes you speak, but often in the middle of a call to Naomi, never out of the blue.

"She's sick." Effy's voice has a waver that fills you with dread.

Your mind is racing, full of possibilities, she's sick, just those words, but Naomi can't be, you'd know, she loves you, she'd tell you.

"How can she be sick all of a sudden, she was fine when I last spoke to her."

You hear your optimistic tone, the one that instantly dismisses the notion your girlfriend is ill, the one that banishes the dark thoughts.

"She's not fine. I wouldn't ring otherwise." Effy is gentle, but firm.

Thwack, thwack, thwack. If you hit them away fast enough it makes them not true.

"Effy, I spoke to her the other day." You force cheeriness.

"In person."

The question unnerves you. "Email,"

Your response is quiet, unsure, as the doubt creeps in again. You rack your brains for the last time it was face to face, one week? two? over a month? Alright then a phone call. You still can't recall exactly when you spoke to her instead of pinging messages back and forth.

You refuse to give in, "Ok, so she's sick, but it's not serious. I was home a few months ago, she was the picture of health, all of her."

You recall the nights of loud lovemaking, passionate and energetic. Naomi's naked body completely joined to yours, the body you know like the back of your hand, you'd notice something different.

"Remember the afternoon Naomi said she had to do something? So you went and took some photos for your portfolio?" Effy prompts.

Of course you do, you'd been miffed she wanted to do something without you, especially as you were only there for a few days, her seductive smile and promise she'd make it up to you softened the blow a little. But you stay silent as if somehow acknowledging it makes it more real.

"We went to the hospital, for tests."

Every word stabs you like a knife, especially we.

"What is it? What's wrong?" You don't want to know, but you must.

"Emily, she's got cancer. The treatments didn't work, that's why you need to come home."

The air sucks from your lungs as soon as you hear the word cancer, the rest of the sentence is lost as pictures of doctors in white coats, prodding and probing, monitors bleeping, machines whirring. You lose your grip on your camera and watch in slow motion as it smashes on the floor. AJ just manages to catch you as your legs buckle. You grip the phone tightly, it's your only lifeline to her.

"Emily... Emily... Emily..."

Effy calls your name, finally you respond.

"I'll be on the next plane."

You glide through the airport, you're not really sure how you even got here. AJ propels you along, supporting you, just like he has since you nearly fell in the park. He hands you a bag, a blue rucksack, it isn't familiar and you try to throw it away.

"Emily, it's some clothes, toiletries, things you'll need."

A sob escapes, all you need is Naomi, all you've ever needed is her.

AJ guides you to the ticket desk, the woman stares at you like she is unsure whether you should travel, "Have you been drinking ma'am?"

You shake your head.

"She needs to get home, family emergency, she's just a bit shocked." He states confidently.

The woman nods, "we only have first or business class available."

You look in anguish, there's no way that's possible, you begin to cry.

"Fine, we'll take a first class ticket. " He says as he hands over a credit card.

You snap out of your fug, "I can't repay..."

AJ smiles, "Sweetie, repay me whenever and you've already done so much for me. I'm Daddy's little rich boy remember?"

"But..." You begin.

"Emily, just go, be with her, she needs you." He says.

You smile gratefully. "Thank you."

He kisses your cheek, "If you need anything else..."

You nod, "I'll call you, I promise."

You go through the gate and you're reminded of the last time you were here, how excited you were that you were off to London to surprise Naomi. You're on auto pilot, going through some stupid motions, ones that never ended up being so serious. You've never traveled first class, you wish you could tell Naomi, it'd make her laugh. And suddenly all you want is for her to laugh, to understand you'd travel to the ends of the earth for her, as long as she's ok.

You board the plane and sit in anticipation, you're waiting for someone to catch you out, but then you remember that your ticket means you can legitimately be here. The stewardess offers you a glass of champagne, you take it and finish it in one. Champagne, for celebration, but you don't feel like it's a party. Once airborne, you shift uncomfortably in your seat, staring out of the window, desperately trying to sleep. You look at the magazine and realise that you can access the Internet and that's it, you hoover up information, researching different types of cancer, treatments, alternative therapies, maybe there's a second opinion. Anything if it means a little bit of hope.

You feel the bump as you land, you must have drifted off to sleep. You panic, you're not ready for this, how can you be?

All you have is the blue rucksack, so you don't even need to wait for baggage reclaim, you go through passport control and the cacophony of sound in the arrival hall greets you. Families being reunited, lovers connecting, friends joining together.

And then you see her, you hate her, the fact she's kept this from you, the fact she's allowed you to be in New York, when you should have been here, with Naomi, all this time.

She smiles, "Hey, how are you?"

You stare, how the fuck does she think you are?

Your hand moves without you realising until it slaps her across the cheek. You walk away and you don't even care if she follows.

Outside you go to the cab rank, eventually you feel her next to you.

"Em..." She says unsurely.

"Shut the fuck up Effy."

And she does.

You stare through the window of the cab as the London skyline comes and goes from view. All you think about is her, how will she look, your beautiful, strong, confident woman. The person who made you understand it was ok to love girls, no... a girl. The one who always, no matter how far apart you were, made everything right in your world.

The cab stops outside the hospital and you realise you need to get out, to face this. Effy makes a slight move as you leave, no fucking way this is going to happen.

"Stay where you are. Do you not think you've already taken enough away from me as it is? You... You didn't even deserve this time with her. You stole it from me."

"She wouldn't let me..."

You don't care, Effy is your friend too and you need somewhere to focus your anger. You close the door and watch as the cab pulls away.

You take a deep breath and make your way inside. You walk down faceless corridors until you arrive at the oncology ward. Then you see her, fast asleep, like she doesn't have a care in the world. Your heart swells at that point, filled with so much love it almost destroys you.

You find a nurse, ask to speak to her Doctor.

He smiles kindly, "Are you a relative?"

"No, I'm her girlfriend."

The fact that all you are is her girlfriend hits you hard, one day you were supposed to be her wife, maybe the mother of her children, but right now you're nothing.

"Naomi is very sick, we're trying to make her as comfortable as possible." He begins.

You shake your head, "There has to be something else. I've researched it, can't you try?"

Another kind smile, "Sorry, we have tried everything. Please believe me, we did explore other options, unfortunately they didn't work."

Then it hits you, she won't be here anymore, she's dying.

"Fuck. How long?"

"We're not sure. It might be days or months." He utters.

"Surely you know? You're a doctor, it's your job to know these things." You scream at him.

"Fine, I wasn't sure if you wanted to know. Naomi has a few weeks at best and it will be hard, punishing, depressing." He states.

It's like someone has repeatedly punched you in the face.

"I'll deal with it." Because you love her.

You make your way back to the ward, Effy is there, staring, you make your way over.

"I can't go in."

Effy smiles.

"I just need more time."

"There isn't more time Emily."

"I'm so angry with her."

"She's dying."

"I know."

Effy hugs me, "hey, look at me, be strong for her, like she was for you."

You nod and smile sadly at her.

Then you walk into the room and pick up the sheet. Naomi turns and the look on her face as she realises you're here is priceless. You stroke her head, the lion's mane of brunette you're finally used to is gone. You look at her and then suddenly everything overwhelms you as you realise she won't be here anymore. And you cry, uncontrollable sobs, as your head collapses in her lap.

You didn't try to be strong because you don't feel strong. How can you? When your whole world has ended and nothing is ever going to be right again?