Denial Is Useless (14/14) Part One of the Final Chapter

[hac92]

 

Disclaimer: I don’t own Skins! I wish I did though!

A/N: It’s been and passed now but it’s been Skye’s birthday so if you didn’t wish her happy birthday please do because this fic is for her :D

This is the last chapter, I’ve decided to separate it into two parts so one tonight and hopefully the other tomorrow, I hope you like it! Thanks for reading again, you guys and gals are the best!

Chapter Fourteen:

Emily. The first and last thing she’s thought about today. Woke up and thought about her and went to sleep thinking about her. Nothing in particular, just her. Rubs her brow as she pushes herself up the next morning, her hair is a mess, her eyes are heavy and she aches all over. That’s what happens when you cry yourself to sleep. Fuck sake. She’s changed....and she’s okay with that now. Itches her arm and walks over to her dresser, sleeps with no clothes on so when she sees her naked self in the mirror she isn’t surprised, she is surprised at how shit she looks though. She isn’t an arrogant person, thinks less of herself than she’d like to admit but right now? She looks like the worst person in the world. Sighs, fuck it. Picks up her phone and searches her contacts, finds Emily’s name and presses call. Holds the phone to her ear and waits, listens to the phone ringing and then hears the answer machine. Sighs. Fuck sake, Emily! Answer your phone.

She gets ready for college. It’s the first day back since she’s argued with Emily and instead of being nervous about bumping into the redhead; she actually wants it to happen. She needs to see her, needs to talk to her. Her conversation with Katie was it. The realisation, that moment you get when clarity hits you and instead of fighting being, you just be. She thought that if she admitted...if she finally thought it, thought that she was ‘gay’ or in ‘love’ with Emily that everything else would go to shit and things would get even worse, but it didn’t. The weight is gone off her shoulders and even though she looks like shit, she feels like she’s on the top of the world right now. She’s better. Happier. It’s nice to be happy. It is.

She finds her clothes, pulls them on and sorts out her hair. Makes her way downstairs and sits at the table, empty plate in front of her.  Gina raises an eyebrow at her. Her daughter is actually sitting at the table for breakfast. “Hello, love, want some food?”  Gina puts the eggs down in front of her and Naomi digs in. Hasn’t been this hungry in a while. She’s half way through her eggs when she realises that her mum doesn’t have any food in front of her.  A mumble question is what Gina hears and looks up from her paper. “Sorry, love, what was that?” Smiles warmly.

Naomi waves her hand around in circles to make a gesture that she’s swallowing her food. “Where’s your breakfast?” She asks and Gina nods to the eggs in front of her. Naomi looks at them and then back up at her mum. She’s eating her mum’s breakfast. She feels bad. “I’m sorry.”

“Love, I’d rather you have them. I’ll make some more for me in a bit, but right now, I’m happy that you are eating breakfast. You’ve been a lot happy, dear. I like it. It looks good on you.” Gina smiles warmly again and Naomi sends her a small smile back. Finishes the eggs. She likes her mum when she’s like this. They talk, just a bit, about nothing really, about everything at the same time. Naomi doesn’t know how that works, it just does, she smiles when she needs to smile and laughs when she needs to laugh. No more hiding. No more faking. The conversation does turn serious. As much as her and her mum would like to carry on just talking about nothing her mum does feel the need to help, to love her, to be there for her and she does know when her daughter is sad. “So, how’s James? Haven’t seen him here in a while.”

“James is a dick, Mum.” Naomi replies and looks down at her plate, fiddles with her plate and little and then looks out the window. It’s raining. Lovely day.

“I know that, love,” Naomi’s eyes snap up and she looks at her mum questioningly. “Come on, Naomi, dear. I heard the way he used to talk about women, but he’s a sweet boy really. Sure, he’s a pig like most of the other men in the world, but woman can be pigs too. Sometimes it’s best to just give people a chance. You did give him a chance and you two are the best of friends. Just because one of you are a bit of twat sometimes doesn’t mean that you two should throw that all away. So, just forgive him for whatever he’s done, because you might be angry now, but you two are better together.” Gina smiles. Naomi bites her lip. She’s right. She knows she’s right. She does want to forgive Cook, but right now? She hates him more than she’s hated anyone else in her life and every time she thinks of him all she wants to do is drag her nails down something that will do permanent damage to herself. She doesn’t thought because he’s not worth it. He’s not worth much. “I know sometimes it’s scary. I’ve been scared plenty of times in my life, when your dad pissed off everything went a bit shit and I found myself as a single parent without a home and alone, you know what happened though? I made a friend, just like Cook. She was the female version. She was the worst friend imaginable....but at the same time....I would have been lost without her....sometimes life is....scary. You feel things that you don’t want to feel, you see things you don’t want to see and you hear things you don’t want to hear. Life is shit.” She doesn’t tell Naomi to do anything, doesn’t tell her to just do it, doesn’t tell her that she should or should not do this and that, all she says is the cold hard facts. That’s why she’s starting to like her mum. She’s nice, but she’s true. Smiles at her mum with a nod of understanding and then she gets up and heads for college. No more words. She knows her mum knows about Emily, but she doesn’t say anything and she’s glad. She rather her mum say nothing at all. It’s cliché, but she knows that now she’s starting to like things she didn’t before.

Bikes to college. The wind slaps against her face as she rides through the streets of Bristol, yeah, it’s raining but she doesn’t care. That’s why she’s wearing a coat.  She spots him at the bus stop. His head resting against the glass of the bus shelter and fag in one hand. He looks grubby. Dirty. Maybe hasn’t had a shower in days. She stops in the rain and sighs. Fuck sake, mum. Bikes over. “How long you been here then, James?” She asks, stepping into the shelter to escape the rain. He blinks at her for a second before he takes a slow drag of his fag and stares at her. “Why haven’t you gone to Katie’s then?”

“As much as Katiekins loves the Cookie Monster something tells me that Mumma Fitch wouldn’t be too happy about a teenage boy kipping in her house with her two teenage daughters. Fair enough, I suppose, though.”  Stubs the fag out against the glass. Naomi watches as he drags the butt down and forces a grey smug to appear alongside the rain and condensation. Fitting, Naomi thinks. “What you doing here then, Blondie? Ain’t you gonna be late for college or something?”

“Aren’t you?” She offers in return and sits down next to him. Not too close and not too far. Just someone in between.

“Nah, babe, college is too high maintenance for Cookie Monster. Something’s are just supposed to be wild and the Cookie is definitely wild.” Smirks to himself and chuckles lightly.

“Kicked you out, then?” She asks after a bit and he concedes with a nod.

“Yeah,” Cook raises another fag up to his mouth and lights it with one cupped hand. “Pissed off too long for them to take me back, I suppose.” Naomi nods. Three months is a long time. She knew the college would never take him back after that. What’s he going to do now?

“What are you going to do now?” She asks.

“Thought you didn’t care? Aren’t you supposed to be angry at me or something, Naomikins?” He challenges. He’s pissed, probably because he’s fucking homeless now.

“I...James...I do care, okay? You just pissed me off, alright?” She’s standing now. “You fucked off, okay? You left us. Left me and...I fucking missed you, alright?” Cook looks away. It’s a low blow. He knows it and she knows it. She doesn’t mean to make him feel guilty, he fucked off for his reasons and she still doesn’t know them. He missed her too, she knows he does. He doesn’t do feelings, she knows that but she....she just needs to tell him. Needs him to understand. “I-i’ve changed.”

“I know, Blondie.”

“Do you? Do you really, James? Cause now all the time I’m feeling and thinking about everything. I can’t be like you anymore. I just can’t do it, okay? You’re my best friend, James, but we’re never really friends! All we do is the same thing every week and it was nice. Nice while it lasted but I need change. I needed this...I needed E...” Stops herself before she can say something stupid. Bites her tongue because she’s already made this situation ten times worse. She can’t explain it. She can’t find the words, it’s all coming out wrong.

“Emily.” He finishes for her with a soft smile. It’s sad. She can see that. “I know, Blondie. It’s fine, dear. It’s my fault. It’s always been my fault. Been too caught up with my own problems to give a fuck about you. Sorry, Naomikins. I was a cunt.”

“It’s okay.”

“It isn’t, though, is it?” Cook asks, drops his fag to the floor and stamps on it.

“No....it’s not.”

“Thought so. See you around, Blondie.” Those words sting her every time she hears them. He doesn’t mean it like that though. He walks off into the rain. Suitcase in hand. She hears it jump against the bumps in the gravel as he disappears into the distance. She wishes things could be fixed. Knows that they can’t.

*

She skips her first classes and waits outside of Emily’s. Emily’s not in, thought, well, not by the looks of it. She hasn’t seen Katie either. Asks a few people if they’ve seen either of the redheaded twins and sighs when she gets a ‘no’ or a shake of a head. Leans back against her locker and bangs her head against it once, just lightly. Where the fuck are the Fitch twins when you need them? Finally gives up and goes to class, does nothing again. Kieran’s starting to notice, she thinks, so she ducks out of the class room quick at the end and heads to the cafeteria. Stops them straight away. They are sitting together in the corner. Katie looks the better out of the two and Naomi knows why, her fault completely. Bites her lip as she heads over and takes a seat next to Emily. Her chest feels like it’s on fire, she feels like she can’t breathe. So close. Strawberries. It’s been like two days and she’s missed them so fucking much. Back to that drowning sensation. Ever thought you’d want to drown? Well, Naomi does. Right here and now. “Hey,” She offers it to them both. Doesn’t want to single either of them out either way. Katie kind of nods, but it’s not friendly, just polite. Emily breathes out a hey as she uses her plastic spoon to play with her food. “So...I was looking for you this morning.”

“Why?” Emily asks. She sounds so broken. Naomi just wants to pull her to her and stroke her hair. Nearly does, but doesn’t think that Emily will react to well to that in their current situation. Flicks her hair to the side a little and gathers her courage.

“About...us.” She’s being forward. This makes Emily’s eyes snap to hers and she looks at her confused. Asking a question that she can’t find words for. Naomi nods and Emily nods slowly back. They turn towards the sound of Katie dropping her fork onto the tray with a sickened face and watch as she picks her tray up. “Look, I’m sort of, okay with this, yeah? But I don’t want all this lovey dovey lesbo shit in my face, okay?” She leaves after that.

“She seems happy.” Naomi states.

“She is. Well, happier then she’s been in a while. I think Cook’s got something to do with that.” Naomi nods. He has.

“Fair enough.” And then there’s the silence. That horrible awkward silence where you know you have to talk about something but you can’t find the words to explain yourself. It’s a pain but she’s going to have to fucking fight through it because she knows what she wants. Turns to the redhead and looks her dead in the eyes.

“I...want you.” Emily’s taken back. She’s wanted to hear that. Hear those words for so long that finally when they pass the blonde’s lips in nearly knocks the wind out of her. She bites her lip and looks back at the table. Her conversation with Cook floating into her mind. She’s just scared, Red.

“Really?”

“I do.”

“Are you sure?” Emily’s not ready to give herself over completely. Naomi hoped she would, but knew she wouldn’t. Nods.

“Fine.”

“Are you definitely sure?” Naomi nods again. It’s hasty. She wants Emily. She really does. Wanted her since she saw her. That night in the bar. The first time. The way that she could be so sure of herself and yet at the same time so naive to certain aspects of teenage life. The way she danced with her, moved her hips to the beat, just like Naomi. She’s wanted her since then and now and only now after all this shit has she finally realised it. She’s been a fucking dick and she regrets it.

“Yes.”

“Then kiss me.”

“What?

“Kiss me here in front of everyone. Prove that you want me.”

“I do want you.”

“Enough to kiss me here?”

“Y...yes.” Moment of truth.

*

See you around, Blondie. Echoes in his head. He’s used those words before. Those words fucked everything up before. It’s tipping it down. Fitting, he thinks. Churns his shoulder round slowly and spits on the floor. Nail in the coffin. Naomi and him are done. They ain’t on bad terms but they ain’t on good terms, either. It’s fucked. He’s fucked it. He always does.  Smokes another fag, that’ll be his fifth of the day. Opens the packet and looks down ruefully, three left. Of course there fucking is! Just his luck of late. Right, he’s made a list. A mental list of things he needs to sort out or try to. He’ll only try once though, he doesn’t want to push his luck. Naomi and him? It’s gone, just like he said earlier. He’s gotta pick up his shit and move on because that’s all he’s good. He’ll miss her, you know? She was a top class girl, top notch.

“Alright, Blondie, fancy a good time?” Breathes in her ear hard. She shudders as his voice trickles down his neck. Fucking disgusting. She knows what he’s going to look like before she even turns around. Yep, polo shirt, jeans and trainers. He’s got the top button done up to counter the chav image he first presents. It’s kind of Ironic, she thinks, that he’d go to the effort to do up his top button yet still look a mess everywhere else. It amuses her.

“Not in a million years, mate, go have a good time with yourself, yeah?” She offers with the finger. He smirks at her and leans back against the bar.

“Jegger;, I come here a lot and first time I’ve see that arse in here, trust me the Cookie Monster knows.” Winks at her and she scoffs.

“The Cookie Monster? You do realise how stupid it sounds to talk about yourself in the third person? Arrogant pig.” He laughs again.

“You’re funny. I like you, girlie. So, buy you a drink?” He gestures towards the barman and they come over. The barman’s on his way over because she can tell him ‘no’ because, let’s face it, it’s always going to be a no. She hates him. Hates that sort of person. Fucking pisses her off. Plenty of them in London, plenty of them back home. Bristol is a scum hole. Fucking hates it so far and this guy is the latest to come out of woodworks. Rolls her eyes when he places a drink down in front of her. “What’s this?” She asks.

“Your drink.”

“What is it?”

“White Russian. Vodka and milk. Legendary and definitely your drink, babe, trust me! The Cookie Monster is the master of booze. I can tell you what everyone really wants to drink in here. People have certain types.”

“Oh, really?” She raises an eyebrow at him and sighs. “And just for the record? I’m not your ‘babe’ so don’t fucking call me that.”

“Whatever you say, babe,” She rolls her eyes. Dick. Fucking dickhead. “But yeah, I claim that talent, problem?”

“Yeah, my problem is that it’s bullock. You’re full of shit.”

“Oh, really?” this time it’s his turn to raise an eyebrow. He winks at her after and she wants to be sick. He is repulsive. “I bet you that I can guess what the next person to comes to the bar drinks is.” He offers out his hand.

“And what do you get if you win? And what do I get in return? Just so you know, I’m not in the habit of making deals with strangers, but I’ll take pity on you this one time.” She takes his hand and he smirks. Shakes her hand hard.

“Well, if I win then you have the pleasure of hanging out with Cookie this evening, but If I lose? Well, then, babe, I’ll piss off.” She nods. Agrees. Fine, at least he’ll piss off.  She sips at her drink and scowls. Dickhead. It takes fucking lush. Cunt. He waves at her to look and as the next girl comes up to the bar he makes his move.

“Alright, love, how are you this evening?” He smirks at her and they fall into conversation. She watches them. He’s smooth, she’ll give him that. He knows what he’s doing. Probably had more action then she ever has, well, that’s not exactly hard. Rolls her eyes at herself and looks back the pair. She hears snippets. Innuendos. Flirts. That sort of thing and it’s all very sickening. She waits for it.

“I’ll have a...” The girl starts but cuts her off.

“One sex on the beach, please, mate. For the lovely lass, that is.” She stares at him shocked.

“How did you know that?” He waggles his eyebrows. He has his ways. She doesn’t listen to anymore. Fuck sake. Now she has to spend the evening with that cunt. Jesus. He ditches the girl, she’s hot so I suppose she should feel at least a little bit good about herself.

“So?” He looks at her smugly.

“Don’t be a dick, it doesn’t suit you.” She spits.

“Don’t be a sore loser, babe, just be glad that I didn’t ask for anything with attached.” Waggles his eyes brows and she is thankful.

“Fine, just don’t fucking annoy me, yeah?”

“Sure thing, blondie,” Pulls up a stool next to her. “So, have you heard the one about the pope and the rabbi?” He asks and she shakes her head no. He’s nice. Nicer then he originally seems, and he’s funny too, in his own way. Begrudgingly she does admit to herself that she has a good time with him. When they finally he does try it on. Goes in for the kiss but she pulls back and shakes her head no.

“That’s fine, babe. See you here again soon?” He offers out his hand and she’s shocked.

“Aren’t you disappointed?” He is.

“Yeah, course I am, Blondie. You’re fit as fuck, but the Cookie Monster don’t force girls into doing something that they don’t want.”

“How gentlemanly.” He scowls at her this time and she laughs.

“Well, since I’m being all gentlike, hows about you tell me your name? I’ve been calling you blondie all evening. It’s nice, but names are nicer.” His hand is still extended towards her.

“Only if you tell me your real one.”

“Deal, but if you tell a soul I may have to kill you. Just a warning.” He winks and she smirks.

“Naomi.” She takes his hand again and shakes.

“James.”

“Nice name, James.” She teases.

“Not too bad yourself, Naomikins,” He wanders off down the alley. Laughs to himself, in his drunken stupor. “See you around, Blondie.” He calls, and she smiles. She hopes he does. She really hopes he does.

He wipes at his eye. He’s gonna miss her. So fucking much. Smiles sadly to himself and looks up towards the sky, rain patting against his face harshly. Drags the last of the fag and flicks it into a puddle. He’s got places to be, needs to stay in the present and not focus too much on the past. Heads into town, used to go here every Saturday, but now it’s a Monday and he’s breaking his ritual. Doesn’t care though, this needs to have been done a long time ago. He makes his way over to the pay phone and makes a call. Two planned. “Alright, Katiekins, wanna meet me this evening? Do... I dunno, go for a pint or something? Could be a laugh. Let me know, yeah, I’ll be at Keith’s at eight. Meet me there, got some shit to tell ya, and if you ain’t there by nine, well, I’ll get some kip. See you soon, babe.” That’s the first call. Katiekins. She’s been a star lately. A nosy, infuriating bitch, but a star nevertheless. She’s got talent that girl, she has. She’s the only one that has ever been able to get him to watch the ‘Notebook’ without complaining about it the whole time. Fitch the Bitch. Smirks to himself and puts in another thirty pence, which also happens to make him now officially skint. Knows the number off by heart.

The rain is patting hard against the pay phone glass. He shivers a bit. It is fucking freezing after all and he’s only wearing one fucking jacket. Stupid pissing Bristol. Has its faults. The phone rings three times before it’s answered. “Where is he, Mrs Jones?” Cook asks.

“Hello, James, I wasn’t expecting you to call. JJ isn’t in at the moment...” She starts.

“I know, I came by and his bedroom light was out. Where is he?”

“Where do you think?” She asks.

“Thanks.” Hangs up. He’s always hated that bitch. Feels good to finally be the one that hangs up in their phone relationship. Smirks to himself and heads off. He walks because he doesn’t have enough for the bus. He’s stashed his suitcase somewhere for safe keeping. Naomi was first on his list, JJ second and Katie last. Two done and one to go. Doesn’t even know what he’s trying achieve when he walks down the lane that leads to Freddie’s grave. Stalls at the gate for a second and squeezes the bar tight. All of nothing, but the stupid thing? Doesn’t even know what he’s trying to get from this. It’s all that’s going through his head. Why’s he doing this when he doesn’t even know why? He’s impulsive, sure, but who ain’t? The mud is thick and slippery as he makes his way towards JJ.

He’s taking shelter under a tree. He’s shiver, or locked on. From here Cook can’t tell and as he moves closer he sees that it’s shivering because JJ snaps towards him. First in shock and then second with a glare. “What do you think you’re doing here, Cook?” His voice jumps from the cold.

“I’ve come to help you, J.”

“H-Help me? Why would you want to help me?” JJ’s confused, his face scrunches up and Cook takes a step forward.

“You’re angry, JJ.” He states. Fuck sake. When did he become the wise one? He can’t play that part because he’s a lot more angry than JJ. This situation is so fucked up. He doesn’t have the right to say what he needs to say, but at the same time he has to.

“At what?”

“At yourself, mate.”

“Myself? Whatever for? I’ve done nothing to be angry at myself for. I’m angry at you for...Freddie. For what happened, for, fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He claws at his chest. Cook’s arms find his shoulder and shakes him.

“JJ, snap out of it!” He does. Caught him quick enough. He can see JJ’s anger in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, mate.”

“No, you don’t get to....you don’t get to say you’re sorry! You don’t get to! You did this! You fucking did this!” He’s shouting now. Shouting again the wind and the rain and a couple of metres away no one would be able to hear it, but Cook can. Cook can hear the voice crack, can hear the pain. He doesn’t know how to help. Just apologise. He has to try. He’s never been the one that had to apologise, but he’s, he’s got to learn. Got to change. Adapt. Otherwise he’s fucked. This has gone on for too long and it needs to be fucking sorted already. It’s causing too much pain. Too much fucking anger.

“I’m sorry, JJ, mate. I really am.” It sounds so wrong from him.

JJ agrees. Cook expects it when he gets punched. When the mud below his feet gives way and he falls flat on his back. JJ scrambles on top of him. Fights dirty, but Cook doesn’t even fight back. Welcomes the punches, scratches and kicks. He’s used to it. So used to it that he can’t even feel it anymore. Just let’s JJ get it out. All of it out. He coughs out blood when JJ’s finished. When he’s crawling away under a tea and rocking back and forth. His angry becoming too much for him. He spits up blood again, coughs loudly. Urgh! His chest fucking canes! Jesus! He claws at the ground with his fingers when he pulls himself to his feet. His eyes are swollen as fuck and he can barely see. Only sees a little bit when he makes his way over to JJ and slides down the tree and sits next to him. “It’s both of our faults, J, mate. Always has been.” It’s the truth. JJ knows it is. Just doesn’t want to accept that. He’s happy hiding. Hiding is good.

“No.”

“Yes, mate. Freds wanted to protect both of us that evening, not just one of us. We both fucked up. He cared about us too much.”JJ nods. Finally concedes after all this time. It’s time to accept. Tears trail down his face as he talks. His breath catches a little and Cook coughs. They make quite a pair.

“H-he did.” JJ nods. Looks up at the sky. “D-Do you...?”

“Do I what, J?” Cook breathes hard and coughs a little.

“Do you...think he’s up there?”

“What, Freds?”

“Yes, I mean, I know that the theory of heaven is highly unlikely and that the possibility of a soul is very low but its....its...” He stops.

“It’s nice to think it, ain’t it? That after all this shit we get to go to a better place?” Cook offers and JJ nods.

“Yeah, it is. I...I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Tis fine, JJ. Finally time we had a chat and as you know, the Cookie doesn’t chat like normal people.” JJ’s sure that if Cook could wink, he would. He just laughs lightly. Things between them might get better now. Well, that’s what Cook hopes. He gets up after a while. They just sit there and talk for a bit, but in the end the cold and tiredness becomes too much for them. JJ helps him to his feet and walks him over to the grave. The air is not completely clear between them. There is still hate, but also brotherly love. It’s going to take time and effort and maybe...it’s just not worth it. Cook doesn’t know what’s going to happen, but he’ll see. He just goes with the flow. He puts the stuffed, battered panda down on Freddie’s grave with a smile and JJ nods according. Approves. He walks JJ home. Heads off to meet Katie.

*

He’s battered and bruised but nevertheless when he gets to the pub he’s looking clean. Clean and smart. Polo down up with a top button and some roses in brown paper in his hand. He’s making an effort. He wants to be different. Eight passes and she’s not there. He sits and drinks and waits till around eleven in Keith’s. Is still sitting there at twelve with the roses clutches tightly in his hands when Keith starts locking up. “Sorry, Cookie, Looks like she ain’t coming.” He uncle smiles at him sadly and turns the light out, leaving Cook sitting in the darkness. He tightens his jaw. He really thought she would come. Throws the roses in the bin. He can’t fix anything.

A/N: That’s part one of the final chapter. Part two should be up shortly. :D I hope you enjoyed it? Tell me what you guys think, please! It makes my day! Naomily conclusion next chapter! :D You guys rule! You are the best! Make my day by reading this, you do! :D