Eesh. Long time no see. I'm now working 3 things (Although this ones a bit different) to clear a bit more of my horrendous blockage. Any way :D 'Tis a song fic to the song 'Broken' by seether and Evanescence :D

D/C – (Just so i dont get sued hehe) I Dont own any of this and I most probably never will unless I rape them both until they give it to me :D Which i wouldnt mind lol)

...

I wanted you to know that I love the way you laugh
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away
I keep your photograph; And I know it serves me well
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain

"I Don't care, Howard, you northern weirdo, I AM NOT wearing THAT on stage, or ever!"

"Why not?"

Vince looked at the beige pants and brown shirt that looked as if it had been thrown up on and visibly shivered.

"It's one of the best in my closet!"

Howard looked a little hurt as Vince scrutinised the outfit with disgust.

Vince's eyes went to Howard again, it wasn't his fault all Vince's clothes had been ruined by a very high shaman and a certain Gorilla wielding a spell book. His face broke into a grin before he knew what he was doing and he began to shake with silent laughter, which eventually turned loud. He didn't want to laugh, he wanted to cry his big blue eyes out for the sake of his ruined wardrobe.

"Oh God. Naboo! I think Vince's screws have come loose!"

Naboo wandered in as Vince caught his breath, but this only started him off again.

"We're on in 2 hours, all the clothes he's got are his pyjamas and he's laughing like a moron. What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything Howard, you ball bag"

...

Howard remembered the day Vince had all his clothes burned away by the blundering Bollo and tiny Shaman. He didn't think he'd ever seen Vince laugh so much. He smiled at the memory. A slight tug at the corners of his mouth as he stared at the smashed photograph in front of him, he and Vince were at a concert, he had his eyes closed with his face being pulled in the direction of Vince's, Vince, obviously drunk out of his brains, was pulling Howard's face to rest against his own which was nestled in between his shoulder and neck. Vince's other hand was holding up a CD, Howard couldn't remember what it was and the crack in the glass ran directly through it. His emotions rapidly changed as he picked up the photograph and his head began to swim with thoughts of Vince's hair, his eyes, Vince laughing...he threw the photo again, towards the wall furthest from him, and it landed with a soft thud on Vince's bed. It didn't help. Vince's grinning face flooded his mind again, he threw himself onto the carpet and began to sob as if it was what he was made to do.

He was beginning to think it was.

Eventually the tears stopped falling.

Howard pulled himself slowly to is feet and surveyed the mess around him. The clock was in bits on the floor by the table it once occupied, CDs and Jazz records lay broken at his feet, Vince's mattress had been overturned, there was make up on the walls and on his clothes, his hands were covered in it, mixing with drying blood, sweat and tears.

...