Howard remembered the first night Vince started to fall apart vividly.

He came in drunk.

Which was obviously, not an uncommon thing for the king of the mods. Howard often had worried about just how much Vince drank, but always shook it off. It seemed to make the electro poof happy, and wasn't that all that mattered? He had all of his cool and hip friends to look after him from the Camden night scene, right? Vince always came in with a grin on his face and a shine in his eye, which was certainly a lot more than Howard got out of drinking. The last time Howard had been drunk, he'd puked all over Mrs' Gideon's shoes and made out with his best friend. Howard shuddered at the memory. Of course, this wasn't the only time they'd made out, but that time on the roof certainly didn't count.

Even if Howard had confessed his unrequited love for the party animal.

No. There was something different this time, something disturbing.

Normally Vince would let himself in quietly and then collapse into the mass of duvets and pillows Howard would leave for him downstairs, aware that if a sober Vince struggled to walk up the stairs without tripping then a drunk one certainly wouldn't make it.

Not this time.

Howard was woken by Naboo shaking his shoulder, a confused look on the Shaman's angular face. Howard groaned.

"Urgh Naboolio what is it? A jazz maverick needs his beauty rest in order to be on top form, you know."

Naboo didn't roll his eyes at this, nor make some sort of sarcastic remark. He simply wore the same odd expression on his face, like he wasn't sure what was going on.

"It's…it's Vince, Howard."

At this, Howard shot up. Vince had always needed protection more than anyone else, he was just so god damn naive and trusting. The expressionless tone in Naboo's voice sent warning bells ringing through his skull.

"Where is he? I thought he was going out tonight? Is he hurt?"

"I….I don't know Howard. He's on the stairs."

Vince never tried to come upstairs after a night out.

And that was enough. Howard was out of bed in seconds, speeding towards the rickety old staircase like a northern bullet. He spotted his friend immediately, sprawled out halfway up, face down. The :explorer knelt by Vince's head, panic coursing through him.

"Vince? Vince! I need you to wake up little guy, I can't have you camped out here all night."

No response. Howard's horror only escalated. He gagged as Vince's odour hit him, a powerful mix of vodka, vomit and something else that smelt like…naughtiness.

"Naboo can you go wake up Bollo and tell him to carry Vince to his bed? I don't think I could trust myself carrying him when he's in this sort of state."

"Bollo already awake," Came the gruff response as Howard's hairy friend pushed past him and gently picked Noir up. He took him back upstairs and Howard nervously followed, looking in worry at the cold, dead look of Vince's face as Bollo placed him on the bed. Howard was immediately at Vince's side, giving his shoulder a light shake.

"Vince please. I really need you to wake up little fellow. For me."

Strangely enough Vince's eyes did open then, and he squinted at the light in the room, groaning.

"Vince! Oh thank god. What happened? You usually never get this bad."

".. 'oward I've….done….bad things."

The Jazz fusion player chuckled.

"I expect you have. What sorts of things Vince?""

Silence. And then…..

"By Howling Jimmy Jefferson, are you crying?"

The party prince said nothing, too choked on his own tears to reply.

"Shh, it's okay Vince. We won't get mad, I promise. Just tell us what's wrong."

It was at this moment Vince's eyes met Howard's, and Howard was struck by just how lost and desperate they looked. It was beyond unusual to see a sunshine kid in this sort of state, and it unnerved Howard greatly. Vince bit a trembling lip.

"I promishh'd you I wuddn't do anythin' 'gain. I…..i'm shorry 'oward."

Howard went still.

"Vince what are you talking about? Wouldn't do what?"

"..D..d-drugs."

There was a sharp intake of breath from everyone in the room. Everybody knew Vince's history; How years ago, before he'd gotten clean, he'd been this raging drug addict who was on the verge of suicide. That meeting Howard was the only thing that had convinced the young fashion icon to stop.

There were tears in Howard's eyes before he'd managed to compose himself enough to respond. There had always been drugs offered around on the Camden night scene, both Vince and Howard knew this. Vince was usually strong enough to resist.

"W….what did you take v-vince?"

His own voice was trembling now, but he didn't care. This was huge, bigger than Mrs. Gideon or leaving the Zoo, bigger than managing to overcome the chokes and doing that advert as a crab.

"F..few j-joints o' weed. But moshtlyy coke."

Howard squeezed his eyes shut, praying that this was all some sort of sick joke. A solitary tear ran down his inflamed cheek. Howard threw a quick glance at his best friend's nostrils, and they were indeed, red and swollen.

"Howard he's gonna spew everywhere in a minute, put this bowl under his chin. Alcohol and cocaine are NOT a good mix. Trust me, I've got experience with druggies."

Howard dutifully did as Naboo said. As if on cue, Vince vomited into the bowl, a nasty acidic yellow pouring from his mouth.

"Right this is no good. Howard, take him to the toilet, he's gonna be up all night. Bollo, take the bowl away."

Howard got the electo boy to his feet. Howard put Vince's arm around his shoulder, and practically dragged him over to the toilet, where Vince fell to his knees in front of it and grasped the sides of the bowl with trembling fingers, emptying the contents of his stomach into the shallow water. Tears leaked from the eccentric's eyes as he vomited, and all's Howard could do was rub his back, stroke his hair, and tell him everything was going to be okay.

At some point Vince fell to sleep, his head resting on the side of the bowl. However, shockingly. He continued to vomit.

"Come on Vince wake up!"

"J…jus wanna sleep," He slurred, eyes drooping.

"Vince no. Just puke a while longer? Then I'll wrap you in blankets like…..well, a pig in blankets, okay?"

He merely nodded, eyes rolling, as he continued to vomit.

Some time later, There was nothing left in him. Sensing that he was finally allowed to sleep, Vince collapsed into Howard's arms.

And for the first time that night, Howard allowed his emotions to get to him as he sobbed over the person he cared for the most.