A/N: This was originally gonna be a one-parter but somehow turned into two long drabbles in my insomnia. Hence insomnia so if I've made mistakes I'm soz, my scanning eye is knackared. It's angst-central though softens a little bit in the next part. The italic parts are Vince's pov but they're just in dialogue so they're confusing, coz is Vince is blind drunk so you basically get to know how he feels :P Reviews are Love!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mighty Boosh; Barratt & Fielding, Baby Cow, God and whoever else do. But moi. So please don't sue me coz I'm skint.

Part One

"'Ey, Vince. Mate. Vince. Vince!"

"Earth to Noir. You there? Helloooo! Vince?"

"…"

"Bloody hell. He's really out of it. Callum, man, what did you give him to drink?"

"Just a load of those freaky cocktails he always likes. A couple of flirtini's. A few shaguerite's."

"Shagurete's?"

"Don't ask. His own recipe apparently. Sent it around to every bartender in London to learn off by heart. God knows what's put in there."

"Guys, he's getting really bad 'ere. It's like some sort of freak out. Vince!"

"…."

"Nothin'. Think we should take him to hospital?"

"…M'no…No…"

"Vince?!"

"No 'ospital…no…H'ward…Wan' H'ward…"

"Think that's probably best actually. Anyone got Howard's number?"

"…"

"I'll look on Vince's mobile. Alright, Vince? Vince, we're gonna call Howard, alright? We're gonna get him to take you home, mate, ok?"

"Mmm…Home?"

"That's right, mate. Home sweet home."

"But…still havin' fun…we're still havin' fun, ain't we?"

"Yeah it's been great fun, Noir. Brilliant as always. You're a party legend, you know that."

"M'pretty good, yeah…"

"Thing is though, mate, we're gonna go to another club now. Opening night. Meant to be amazing. And we just don't think you're up to it."

"Yeah, I am…Wanna go. M'gonna go…"

"You're out of it, Vince."

"M'fine! Look, I'm just fine, see-"

"No way we gonna get into the club if he's with us."

"Yeah, Vince, you don't wanna spoil it for the rest of us, do you?"

"…"

"That's it, mate. Now give us your phone and we'll get your buddy Moon here, alright?"

"…"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Howard let out a grunt as he was woken from his slumber by the phone ringing. He had been zonked out on the sofa after an intense hour of jazzercising to his John Coltrane LP. The one he'd only just managed to buy that very afternoon after two years of saving since Vince broke his old one after thinking he was dead. He'd been gawping in its unexplainable yellow aura since its delivery and had wanted to put to good use immediately. Much to the annoyance of his roommate who'd sought escape by going on a pub-crawl with his mates. Even before Howard stood up to answer the phone, his intuition told him it would be something to do with Vince. The facts were all there.

It was half three in the morning.

Vince was out.

Howard was in.

Vince knew Howard was in.

It all added up to one thing.

Stretching out and letting out a massive yawn as he got to his feet, Howard moved to answer the phone, pressing it tiredly to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Ey, y'alright Harry! It's Callum."

"It's Howard actually."

"No, it is Callum."

He suppressed a groan; "No, I'm…never mind. What d'you want, Callum?"

"Well me, Gerry and Luca are here with Vince. But he's a bit worse for wear now. He's too much to handle for one night."

"Is he ok?" Howard's concern instinctively rose, though he wasn't that surprised.

"Yeah, yeah, he's fine! We've been lookin' after him for you." Callum speaks as if reassuring Vince's protective father. "We just don't think he's up for much more. We'd get him a taxi but we don't really 'ave enough money to spare, and we wanna use what we can to get in the club and 'ave some drinks, ya know?"

Howard sighed. He'd knew from before he'd picked up the phone that this was coming. So why he let himself go through that mind-numbing conversation was beyond him. He pinched the bridge of his nose before folding like he always did to being his best friend's chauffer.

"Where are you?"

"Just off the main high street. Along Perkins's Road? Just outside of Woolies."

"Tell Vince I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Cheers Harry! You're a di-"

Howard put down the receiver, not wanting to have to suffer another slurred syllable in his ear from the imbecile. Pulling back his sleeve, he gave his left wrist a quick twist a couple of times with his right hand. His skin was forced to stretch and cry as it threatened to tear. He let his body drink in the red hot stinging sensation before moving across the room to get his jacket and keys from the kitchen work top. All the while screwing up his face in an eternal frown.

His usual nightly ritual. Fall asleep, wake up, answer phone, Chinese burn, and go get Vince, put Vince to bed, Chinese burn, and bed. Same old, same old. He hurt himself as punishment for always letting himself fall under the need to serve Vince's every need. It was bad enough his friend always treated him like some sort of unworthy acquaintance in the daytime. An embarrassment he only put up with to either make himself look even cooler or just out of pity that Howard had no one else. At least that's how the younger man treated him these days.

Not like before. Not like the Vince he'd known back at the zoo. Not like the Vince who'd looked up to him, who'd been spellbound by his superior knowledge and experience, who'd only tease him in a light-hearted way that wouldn't make Howard want to claw the flesh off his arm every night. Not like the Vince who'd spend every night, not out on the lash with random idiots, but in a sleeping bag beside Howard's - the two of them joking, crimping, talking. The both of them talking endlessly until they both succumbed to sleep, they're bodies practically in sync so they didn't leave either one awake alone. Not the Vince whose smile had made his heart to summersaults every time, instead of the cruel and mocking one he was met with these days, that made led him to his pathetic self-flagellation. Howard clutched the keys to the van in his hand. He hadn't even realised he'd just stopped in the middle of the room to just let his mind wonder back to a forgotten time. But not a forgotten friend.

Shrugging on his jacket, Howard tried to picture how his friend was now. The cheeky, innocent, loveable man-child with blonde hair and a zookeeper's jacket dissolved into the smoky silhouette of a skinny, hunched-over, vomit-drenched drag-queen look alike with make-up smeared across his face and his once glistening blue eyes now two grey pits of misery. The very thought of seeing his friend in such a state - again - made his stomach twist dangerously. It was as if some demon, worse than any of the ones in Naboo's book, had taken over his beautiful friend over the past few months and had changed him into a cold-hearted, spiteful shell of a man. And there was no magic strong enough to bring him back.

Howard grunted again as he moved down the stairs. Who was he kidding? There was no such thing as magic. There was witchcraft, the supernatural - but real magic? Nothing but a fairy tale, sir.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Right, Moon's gonna be here to pick him up in about ten minutes."

"Ten minutes? It's starting to rain! We gotta get inside the club before it gets packed."

"Mmm…"

"Vince? Vince, you alright?"

"Mmm, wanna go…I wanna go…"

"You're goin' home, pal. Your buddy's gonna come pick you up in a little bit."

"Ey, Cal. If it's only gonna be ten minutes before the old guy gets here then why don't we just…you know."

"What? Leave him 'ere?"

"It's an open street, it's not like anything will happen to him. And he don't need us to baby-sit him. Do ya, Vincy?"

"…M'not a baby."

"Exactly! 'Course you're not. You'll be fine here waiting, won't ya?"

"To be honest, I don't really fancy getting a telling off from the geography teacher when he gets here. He's gonna blame us, ain't he?"

"Good point. What d'you say, Cal?"

"Well I 'spose if…Vince, you ok with us going?"

"Mmm?"

"I said you ok with us going to the club?"

"Oh…uh…yeah, sure…"

"Brilliant. You're a treasure, Noir. And we'll leave you 'ere in the doorway so you don't get to wet. Just sit here and your ride will be here in no time. And if the jazz freak gives you lip just tell him to fuck off, yeah?"

"Don't…call H'ward that…'E's not a freak…"

"Haha! He really must be losing it! See you, Noir!"

"Bye Vince."

"Take care, mate."

"…"

"Gawd, such a lightweight."

"Well 'e it ain't like he's like the rest of us, is it? Ain't like e's a proper bloke."

"Haha! Yeah. No wonder girls don't hit on us with 'im around, they think we've already pulled."

"Guys, he can still 'ear us, we ain't that far away!"

"Nah, he probably doesn't even know he's there, the big girl."

"Vincent Noir? More like Vanessa Noir…"

"Vanessa! Classic, Luca…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…H'ward?"

"Oh my Lord…Oi, boys! Come look at what I've found!"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The only thing that really separated him from the other cars on the road was that his van didn't have a bright glowing sign on top. Howard was just half way along his journey now. The five minutes of driving through the hazy yellow-tinted darkness of the London streets, the droplets of rain starting to pelt the van harder and harder each minute, had given his initial anger a chance to cool. No doubt it work itself up again once he laid eyes on the electro ponce and had him hurling lary insults at him before puking all over Howard's sweater, then laughing that the colour of his vomit matched the fabric well. And then his mates that gathered around him would join in at one great big fun laugh at sick-covered fool Howard Moon.

Why did he bother going to pick up the reckless little wind-up merchant? He often pondered that to himself as he passed the crowds of drunken, young, hip Vince-Noir-wannabes bouncing along the pavements. If for once Howard had decided to go out, to an actual club instead of just a night visiting Lester Corncrake, and got a bit tipsy and needed Vince to come pick him up - albeit not by a car but perhaps by borrowing Naboo's carpet - would the poof do it? Recent times made that very doubtful. Vince, these days, acted as if his ultimate dream was to have some 'accident' take Howard from his life so he didn't have to deal with him anymore. So he wouldn't have to bother telling the older man to 'nip around the back' whenever some of his mates came into the shop. He wouldn't have to waste any effort saving Howard from the ridiculous and often unbelievable near-death situations he got himself into.

Or maybe that was it. Howard gripped the steering wheel tighter as he drove around another corner. Maybe the whole reason he bothered going to pick up Vince from just a night out with one-drink-to-many was a way of paying him back for the times the mod had, admittedly, risked his neck to save him. If that was the case, it made Howard go strangely cold, an odd blackness poisoning his thoughts. He was just in Vince's dept. It wasn't about friendship. What sort of friendship consisted of two people, polar opposites of each other, bickering all day and throwing each other off for shiny capes or new 'cooler' friends? What sort of friends broke each others stuff and advertised the other for prostitution? What sort of friends left each other at the drop of a hat for a chance of fame and then wasted no time in finding a 'replacement' once the other was gone? What sort of friends could only share the same bedroom if it meant never speaking a word to each other and just being eager to get to sleep to end the tension of another day?

Of course he couldn't deny the overwhelming rush of warmth and affection whenever Vince would give him one of his rare, meaningful smiles. Nor could he block out the tingling sensation in the pit of his chest whenever Vince was upset or ill and needed Howard as a support…to be held, hugged, caressed. Moments were Vince would embrace his friend's comfort instead of taking the piss out of the size of his eyes. These being the calm before the storm where Prick Vince would return in all his glory and the affection the boys shared of the night before was forgotten about - except to Howard. He didn't know how the electro boy did it. Sometimes that was the only thing he envied him for. Without a heart, it was impossible for him to be heartbroken. Clever. But what was there to be heartbroken about? The painfully obvious truth of what they had become? Of what they'd never get the chance to be…whatever that was, if Howard's feelings ever decided to present themselves with some clarity to him. Either way, the chances were lost.

It was like a bullet in the brain. Perhaps it was time to just accept it. Maybe they weren't best friends anymore. Maybe they were just room-mates. Co-workers. Acquaintances. It was time to stop pretending there was any of the affection that once made them what they were before.

This ten-minute drive seemed to be lasting for hours. Howard wondered if he'd absent-mindedly taken a wrong turn and was just going around in circles through the same old streets, allowing his agonizing thoughts to mull over and over. As he glanced out the droplet-decorated screen, he noticed the shops, pubs and clubs he passed were beginning to look to familiar for one night. A pang of guilt struck him, in spite of the callous meaning to his new thoughts. Whether he was still his best friend or not, he wasn't doing any favours to his conscience keeping Vince waiting in the rain. Though, knowing Vince, he was probably having more of a laugh waiting and chatting with his 'gang' than he ever would with Howard. His face wouldn't light up like a Christmas tree the way it used to when he saw the jazz maverick appear. Instead his eyes would burn out and he'd regard Howard more as if he were the Grinch who'd just killed Santa. Bah-sodding-humbug!

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"What's a matter, darlin? Had a bit to much, 'ave we?"

"Cor, pretty little thing ain't she!"

"I dunno. Looks a bit freaky to me. Like that Pete Burns guy."

"Nah, this one's prettier then Burns, aren't ya gorgeous?"

"Leave me alone!"

"Ey, she does speak!"

"She? Sounded more like a geezer to me. What the fuck are you meant to be anyway, Freak?"

"Mmm…"

"What was that, love? Didn't quite catch that-"

"I said m'Vince Noir - Rock'n'Roll star…And you can go fuck yourselves!"

"Oooooh! Listen to her, lads? I like 'em when they're all fiery."

"You don't usually like 'em male though, Tone?"

"True, not usually - but I think we can all make an exception for this one. She obviously wants it, making 'herself up like that, like some cheap little whore."

"Can't say I'll make a fuss."

"What d'you say, sweetheart? You look like you need some lookin' after. Don't worry, we won't hurt ya. We'll be gentle…at first."

"Get away from me, you benders!"

"We ain't the benders, love; you're the one making yourself up for the guys. Now c'mon, don't make this too difficult-"

"You touch me and I'll 'ave ya, you nonce!"

"…"

"Bloody 'ell, Tony! You almost knocked his head off."

"Maybe now the little bitch will know to keep his mouth shut. We don't want that face to get even more messed up, do we?"

"Let me go! Let me go!"

"Keep hold of him, boys. Looks like I'm gonna have to teach the little slag a lesson or two."

"Not to much though, ey Tone."

"Don't worry. There'll be enough left for us all to have fun with, mark my words…"

"…."

"…."

"…."

"…."

"You had enough yet, bitch?"

"…."

"I SAID; HAVE YOU HAD ENOUGH YET?"

"…"

"Awh, look, Tone. I think you've made it cry."

"FUCK OFF! I'M NOT CR-"

"…."

"Wrong answer, slut. This is gonna be very, very fun. Cor, don't the rain make you look even more disgusting? Take him round the back of the shop. We're gonna give this little glitter princess a night she'll never forget."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Haha. Very funny. Hi-fucking-larious.

Howard drove up to the end of Perkins's Road, seeing that not a soul was waiting for him outside the closed Woolworths as promised. The lack of bus-tops or clubs on the road meant that no one was daring to walk the place at this time of night. Even Howard Moon, great daring explorer, felt weary roaming in the darkness, even tucked away inside the safety of the van. There was some bad juju afoot. He could sense it like a twinge in the back of his neck. His weariness was having a fight for supremacy with the irritation surging inside of him at the joke Vince and his friends had obviously played on him.

What a hilarious prank once again. Get old boring Howard up and out in the early hours of the morning, drag him out into the rain and make him drive around - then hide. Well there had once been a time where a game of hide-and-seek with Vince had been something he'd cherished. Back when they were teenagers fooling around as usual. And the small man being indeed so small it was always easier for him to hide himself away from Howard. And the jazz maverick would spend so much time looking for him that it wouldn't be to long before Vince lost patience and would reveal himself, his face bursting with that ever joyful grin that made life seem worth sticking around for. No doubt when he found - if he found - Vince, this time the grins he'd be met with would be with icy mocking laughter from the electro boy and his cronies. Howard was tempted more than ever just to turn the van around the next corner and go back home.

But he didn't. He parked the van by the curb in front of Woolies and reached for his mobile from his trouser pocket. Scrolling down the laughable amount of names in his phonebook, he came to 'Vince Mob' and pressed the button to dial. He put the phone to his ear and prepared to give the conceited little narcissist a verbal beating that would make him think twice about messing with Howard Moon again. The phone kept on ringing. Good! It gave Howard more time to work on what he wanted to say (he wasn't very good at thinking up insults quickly). The phone kept on ringing. Perhaps they'd all gone back to a club together after all and Vince couldn't hear his phone. More ringing. What was the point of these useless inventions? It would've been better if they'd kept one of the homing pigeons from the zoo. At least Howard could've trained the pigeon to peck Vince's eyes out as well as deliver a message. Every ring just heightened his fury at the Camden prince more and more.

And then; a click. Then a serious woman's voice.

"We're sorry. The mobile you are calling is switched off. Please wait whilst you are transferred to the B.T voicemail service…"

Howard closed his phone. His brow curved. Vince's phone had clearly been ringing - and then he'd turned his phone off as Howard was calling him. Was this part of the wind-up? It was effective; he gave them that much credit. He could just picture them all laughing their faces off at him. It made him tempted once more to pull back his sleeve and let his arm have it once more.

Once again, he was about to put his keys in the van to start her up again. Then he began to notice a swarm of shadows passing over each other against the wall of the ally beside Woolies. Squinting, he could make out the figures of a bunch of guys in shuffling gathering just around the corner. Vince obviously didn't put the effort into Hide & Seek like he used to. Another endearing part of the mod that had sadly been lost to the effects of time and popularity.

Howard opened the door of the van and stepped out onto the damp pavement. It was still spitting slightly but the worst of the rain had passed, he hoped. Already he could hear laughter. Deep, cold howls of laughter coming from the shadow-infested ally ahead of him. He grit his teeth, his fists clenching at his sides. Once he got his hands on the bony waste of space he was gonna come at him like a beam, like a ray, like a laser, like a…Hang on a minute.

That wasn't Vince's laughter. None of those voices sounded the least bit familiar.

It wasn't the high-pitched giggles of young, hip, tipsy indie kids. It was the thick guffaws of a group of large, butch, leery blokes. As he studied the wall of the ally closer, he saw that the shape of the shadows moving began to fit he voices well. Howard stood stock still in front of the closed shop. In between the roars of laughter, he could just make out the sound of a thudding. As if someone was pounding their fist into an air-tight sack of flour. People didn't hit bags of flour though. Not anyone Howard could think of anyway. It wasn't something practically funny either. Random. Not funny. Especially not to a load of East End wide-boys.

His legs told him to run. Run as fast as he could in the opposite direction and never look back. Run and find his friend and just go home to his nice warm flat. But his legs were rooted to the ground. He couldn't go and intervene. It wasn't his business. He wouldn't stand a chance against a gang of three or four cockney thugs with fists of steel. His chest tightened. What to do? What to do?

He looked down at the mobile still clutched in his hand. An idea shot alight in his mind. He looked onto his list of 'un-cool' ring-tones until he came across the 'Police Siren'. Pressing himself against the sealed door to Woolworths, he took a deep breath before pressing the button and setting off the believable shrieking ring of a cops-car siren ringing throughout the blustery night.

"Shit! The filth are comin'!"

"To hell with this. C'mon, let's get going!"

"See ya, gorgeous. Sorry we didn't get to have more fun with ya."

"She was a laugh, weren't she? G'night Princess!"

Three bulky brutes charged out from the ally and, to Howard's everlasting relief, ran in the opposite direction to the end of the road, not passing Woolies or his little nook of a hiding spot in the doorway. He poked his head around gingerly and watched them stumble away into the night. A surge of contempt rose inside of him. Howard despised people like that. Any man who raised a hand to a woman was nothing but pond-scum in his eyes. Sure he'd been guilty of hitting a woman once…well, twice including the old Bingo woman…and three if you included his coconut wife - but that was just an illusion. Either way, Howard could be sure of himself that he wasn't in the same league as those monsters. He just prayed the real police would come along to lock the creeps away for life and throw away the key. Or that a speeding bus would squash them all and send them straight to burn in Monkey Hell. Well - Chav hell. There can't've been much difference between the two.

Once he was sure the blokes were long gone he turned off the piercing sound from his phone. In spite of his infuriation at the bastards running free, as well as the fear of the situation still remaining somewhat, Howard still allowed himself to feel that rewarding sense of pride. He'd proved himself for once. He, Howard Moon, was a hero. He'd scared away the beasts who'd been terrorising some poor damsel. He couldn't wait to tell Vince…not that he'd believe him. Or care to listen. But this wasn't about impressing the electro ponce. He shook himself out his own vanity. What mattered was that there was a woman who'd just been attacked in an ally way by a group of sociopaths and was in need of aid. He moved away from his hiding spot and began to make his way around to the side of the shop, already fearful of just how hurt the girl was. How long had they been there before Howard had shown up? Was that why Vince and his mates had gone, to fetch help?

Howard peered through the pitch black darkness of the ally. He could just make out the glint of the rubbish bins lining the walls and some tipped over further back. Some shapes were twitching but he couldn't make them out if the thing was living or just an illusion of the dark. He took a tentative step forward as if expecting another band of brutes to spring out from no where and rinse him out like a flannel.

"Hello? Is someone there?"

He cursed himself for not making his voice more suited to that of a valiant hero.

"It's ok. They've gone now. I ain't gonna hurt you, I promise."

A scuffle. A twang of metal as something hit against the side of the rubbish bin.

Howard stepped forward.

"Look, I can help you. You don't have to be scared, it's alright."

"…" A whimper rose uncontrolled from the end of the ally.

"Miss? Are you ok? D'you want me to call an ambulance? Miss? Miss?"

"Howard…"

His stomach dropped. He froze. Time froze.

No.

Please, God, no.

Not him. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. Not-

"Vince?"

Another high-pitched whimper came in reply. In the distance he could see the moving of a thick scruffy matt of raven hair above one of the fallen rubbish bins.

Oh God. Vince.

Howard bounded forwards at such a speed he tripped over his own feet and stumbled to the floor. After almost crashing to his hands and knees he strung himself back up and continued rushing forwards between the bins, kicking them aside as they dared to get in his path, before tossing aside the one that his friend was sheltering behind. When he finally reached Vince and was able to take in the full picture; his heart cracked in two.

Vince was sat on the filthy, glass, rubbish and piss strewn ally, huddled against the wall as if trying to imprint himself in the bricks, his torn-skinnies clad legs pulled up to his chest. His hands were shaking violently and clutched to his front where Howard noticed they seemed to be uselessly trying to hold together the torn pieces of his tight silk shirt. His frighteningly sorrowful eyes seemed to be focusing on Howard's shins, refusing to raise them up to meet the maverick's looking down on him. His lips were quivering and slightly parted, hushed tiny sobs echoing throughout the ally, linked with the tears on his cheeks, each one a dagger to Howard's chest. Every thought of resentment, contempt or bitterness that he'd previously held for the younger man became forgotten at a moments glance at the sight before him.

He slowly got down on his knees, not giving a stuff about the filth littering the ground and staining his trousers. Even when he got down to Vince's level, the broken boy refused to make eye-contact. Howard stared, lost and confused, into his friend's wide eyes glinting through the darkness. They seemed incapable of blinking. Everything inside the maverick was burning for Vince to say something. Or just to look at him. He'd never seen such…shame in those eyes before. How could he ever be ashamed? He was so perfect. He was beautiful. Even now with…

"Vince?…Oh my god, Vince. What happened?…Vince, what did they do to you?"

No answer. Howard might as well not have said a word.

"Vince. Vince, I need you to talk to me. Are you…Did they do something to you?"

Again no answer. The insinuation of what Howard was getting at was clear as day though. And to his everlasting gratitude, Vince slowly shook his head.

Howard let out a silent prayer up to a god he'd never really believed in. "Oh…Oh, Vince…Did they do anything to you? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

He shook his head a little harder this time. Still he remained quiet as the grave. And his eyes were still fixed below his friend's chin.

Howard scanned the small man's body to see if he was being truthful. He used the light on his mobile screen as a torch that he moved over Vince's shivering body. He was covered in engorging marks already forming pulsating mauve bruises along his arms, chest and face. The inside of his mouth had been cut was still leaking a trail of blood from the side of his mouth. There was a nasty cut above his right eye also, allowing a small crimson line to move down to taint his porcelain precious face, not to mention a swelling on his right eye itself. That familiar new sensation of rage at the thugs who'd dared to hurt his friend began to boil again. He wanted to scream. He wanted to smash something - a skull perhaps. He wanted to kill. And he could've done. He was a lot stronger than his usual cowardly instincts allowed him to be. But Vince didn't need anymore violence. All he needed was him.

Cuts and scrapes. That's all his wounds were. Nothing life threatening. But the emptiness in Vince's eyes was scaring him more than any deep gaping wound could do. Never so much before had he wanted badly to pull his friend into a hug. Yet at the same time he was afraid to do so in fear of breaking the fragile darling.

"Vince…" He couldn't seem to stop saying his friend's name. Hoping ever more to reach where he was hiding.

He took his face gently in his hands and forced Vince to look at him. He didn't even struggle, and just let Howard move him like a rag doll.

"Vince. Look at me, Vince. Look - at - me."

Vince's eyes were looking straight at his. But it was only when they relaxed, just a tad, that Howard felt his friend was beginning to come back to him. The spell was broken. A strange, distant-longing smile grew on the smaller man's face. As if he'd only just realised the maverick was there.

"Howard…Alright?"

Hearing Vince say his name was the sweetest sound he could hear in a lifetime. His voice, though, barely rose above a whisper.

"Oh, Vince…" Tears spilled from his eyes. He was torn between delight that his friend was speaking and the worry that hit him with the unsettling all-to-casual tone of his speech.

"M'sorry I got you to have to come and get me."

He was saying sorry? He was saying sorry?

"S'alright, Vince. You don't ever have to apologize. If you hadn't have called me then…" he trailed off with the thought of the horror contained in that 'what if'. "I'm just glad you're alright."

He pushed the unnecessary images aside and continued dotingly stroking the younger man's cheek.

Vince's face was ice cold beneath his touch. "You're freezing. Here."

Howard took off his jacket and draped it around the younger man's shoulders. It provided much better insulation then Vince's pathetic ripped shirt that he was still holding to hide his disgrace. He let his tense frame relax to let Howard wrap him tenderly in the thick warm jacket. He gave an almost unfamiliar smile of gratitude that made Howard's heart flourish.

"You come to take me home, Howard?"

So pure. So innocent.

"That's right, little man. I've come to take you home. It's all gonna be ok." A sob rising in his throat broke the last three words of that sentence.

"Genius…"

Vince's eyelids finally began to flicker. The shock of the attack was giving way to the exhaustion, trauma and remaining heavy alcohol-influence of before. He swooned jadedly to the side and Howard immediately caught him around the waist. The small man's blouse fell apart as the weak hands released their vice-tight grip and went limp as the rest of his body. He clutched Vince's unconscious body tight to his, drinking in the divine relief of having the most cherished thing in your life back safe in your arms. Both of them were now equally wet from the ever falling drizzle. His hand quickly found his way into the damp black strands of Vince's mane as he hugged his head to his cheek. Not wanting to spend another second in that god-forsaken ally, Howard lifted the electro boy up into his arms - still wrapped up his large jacket like a newborn snuggled in a blanket - and walked out of the darkness and into the empty street.

Thanks for reading thus far! Like I said, only a two parter so second part should be up soon. Reviews would really help spur me on though. Pleeeeease. And in the words of Simon Amstell, if you didn't enjoy this part - then you have only yourselves to blame :) Kidding.