OMG another story! Don't read it it's horrible!! Okay it's that THAT bad, but this is not my best. Yet again it's based on a dream.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mighty Boosh, it's Noel Fielding and Julian Barratt's. Okay this disclaimer sounds too normal for me, BLUABABKAKMAMOOOOO! Thats better. ^_^

Walking down the seamless never ending corridors of white, dreading to see the worst while sneaking glances through every open door that passed. Clear instructions were given but, it was so easy to get lost in this place. Every surface was plain and dull, everyone that passed bared no expression. This place seemed to absorb colour and emotion, chew it up slowly then spit it out in a soulless mass. Finally after what seemed like eternity, he found the room he'd been searching for. Standing completely still, staring at the number engraved in a metal plate on the door. Some unknown force inside didn't want to see beyond it, sitting heavy in his chest twisting it's fingers around his rib cage, tugging. He had to move, had to go inside, it wouldn't be right if he turned back now. He needed to be brave, for his friend. Placing his hand on the door he slowly pushed it open, daring not to breathe as he stepped inside. There he was, his dearest friend lying there silently, no movement, no noise.

Dare he walk up to check he's still breathing? Run away from this heartbreaking sight before him? He wouldn't do such a thing, his feelings for his friend were too strong. He felt the tears build as each step took him closer, he tried to hold them back as he walked right up to the bed. He reached out and held his friends hand as he sat on the lumpy armchair beside the bed. Looking at the many machines keeping his friend alive, he struggled to control his emotions, unable to keep the tears back any longer. Sobbing as he clenched the hand even tighter, he leaned forward and placed a wet kiss on his friend's cheek. He ran his fingers through his friends lank hair as he watched him breathe, wondering if his friend could hear anything outside that peaceful slumber.

"Hey there, can you hear me?"

There was no change in movement, no indication that he was heard. He carried on talking regardless, it made him feel slightly better to be chatting to him again, even though it was a one way conversation.

"We're all worried sick about you, you know. Me Bollo and Naboo. You should be more careful, how am I meant to annoy you if you're here and I'm working by myself?"

He sat there waiting for a response he knew wasn't coming. He started to hiccup as he tried to gain some control over his crying.

"Okay stop being selfish, you've been here long enough so stop playing around and get up!"

He became frustrated, not so much with the fact that his friend wasn't responding, but more the fact that he knew his friend couldn't. He cursed himself, if only he hadn't been so arrogant. If only he had excepted he was wrong in that argument, his friend wouldn't have walked out on him, and the accident that followed wouldn't have happened, he wouldn't be in hospital now. He leaned forward and lightly rested his head on his friends chest, closing his eyes as he listened to the heart beat that was the only form of comfort he was getting now.

"I'm so sorry, this is all my fault. Please wake up, I'm begging you. You've always been there for me and I've never shown.. how grateful I am to have you."

He lifted his hand to his face to wipe the tears away, but then he suddenly felt another hand on his face, a thumb was gently wiping away his tears for him. He lifted his head and stared at his friend, who was now awake. He sat there just staring at his friend, paralyzed with shock, then he burst out again in a flood of tears, only this time it was out of happiness.

Slowly shuffling up into a sitting postion on the bed, he weakly opened his arms. His friend moved from the armchair and leaned into the embrace.

"I thought I lost you, don't scare me like that again. I love you. " he whispered as he kissed his friend on the cheek. His friend in return held his face in his hands and pulled him closer, till their lips met in a gentle kiss.

"I love you too, little man."

What is it with me and angst? I should focus on writing nice and cheerful fluffy stories. But saying that, I find writing angst so easy. At least my stories have happy endings. ^_^ Reviews = cyber chocolate of love. 3