I love these boys so much. This would be around the time that Jules took on THAT movie :glares at him: Stuart Trio = My happiness.

Disclaimer: Mama CP owns these beautiful -andamazinglysexy- boys.

I keep losing my stuff.

Green eyes –clear and focused, lacking their usual medicated haze- alternated between his two best friends. Neither seemed to be in good shape; the lines of Derek's face was strung taut with distress, shoulders tense and limbs rigid from where they were positioned on the mattress, perched opposite the taller blonde. Julian was sprawled on the mattress itself, motionless. In the silence that hung over the trio, the only sounds that could be heard were the quiet –if not painful, poignant- stirs of the actor's uneven breathing.

Derek finally tore his gaze away from the brunette, the concern on his features manifesting into words, "Lo," his voice was rough, albeit lowered, "I can smell smoke off him. Why the hell does he smell of smoke?"

Logan was silent for a moment, raking his eyes over Julian as the future prefect attempted to wrestle his own anger, merely allowing it to simmer directly beneath his countenance. Julian didn't need this. Not now. He'd have time to berate him later... when he's not too far gone to the world. "I know the idiot takes his acting seriously, but this- I can't believe they made him do this. No, wait, I can't believe Juleswould let this happen to himself."

Derek raked a hand across his face, muttering darkly, "He looks like hell."

Whatever retort Logan had filed at the tip of his tongue at Derek's blatant –if not entirely useless- observation was stripped of the chance to be voiced out as of that moment they were cut off by a guttural, broken cough from the teenager on the bed. Before it had even fully receded, another cough had taken its place, swallowing the initial as the actor lurched onto his side, each staccato cough sounding like a hack through his chest.

Logan instinctively shot forwards, but Derek had been a split second faster; the athlete had already transferred Julian so that he was leaning against his torso, muscle bound arms wrapped around his chest. Julian, apparently having run out of air to actually continue coughing, began to wheeze for breath through the constricted path of his throat as his lungs tried to compensate space to balance out the frayed coughs and the process of breathing. Derek manoeuvred him around; pressing his friend's back flush against his chest and –quickly wrestling his own desperation- breathed in deeply himself, allowing Julian to feel shift in his steady rhythm. "Breathe, Jules," he demand fell as a whisper over the smaller teen's shoulder.

The process was hindered for a few beats by Julian's near painful gasps before the actor picked it up, albeit subconsciously. The results were instantaneous; Julian went boneless, a bundle of pure, dead weight in his friend's arms.

Logan's face was ashen, voiced raspy as Derek gently shifted him back onto the bed, "D, he's going to kill himself."

"I-I can't watch him like this."

Logan reached for his still friend, long, talented fingers moving deftly across the actor's collar, unbuttoning his white undershirt and pulling the already loosened tie free from around his neck. His thumb ghosted across Julian's hairline for a heartbeat before sifting his fingers across the hair at the back of his head, lifting it up and prompting Derek to prop a pillow beneath their friend's head and neck. Julian barely stirred.

The blonde pressed two fingers against the smooth flesh directly beneath Julian's palm. After a moment, he allowed them to curl softly around his wrist; a handhold in its simplest form, a promise and an act of comfort all at once, "God D, he can't even take care of himself. Does he really think we have nothing better to do than play babysitter?"

Don't lose any more important stuff, okay?

Derek's smile was faint as he continued watching his two best friends, "Is that going to make us do otherwise?"

~D.I.S