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Disclaimer: Don't own, blah blah blah…

Vince was fairly subdued on the ride home. He kept looking at his lap and occasionally out of the window and whenever they went over speed bumps he paled slightly, which Howard was worried about, but still didn't say anything.

Even when they got back to their block of flats (Factory was all Vince could think) he didn't say anything, and proceeded to stand there in a sullen silence while Howard locked the car and led the way to the flat. Finally, when they were both sat there, in an awkward silence, at opposite ends of the sofa, Howard twisting his hands on his lap, thinking of something to say. This should be happy, Vince is back and well, and here they were, sat there, sulking almost.

"Look, Vince..." Howard sighed as he started, but at that moment, Vince jerked upwards and mumbled,

"I'm gonna be sick" With that he darted off to the bathroom, and for a horrible second Howard thought he'd done that because he didn't want to talk, but was bizarrely cheered by the sounds of vomiting. He got up as well and went into the bathroom, kneeling down next to Vince, who was bent over the toilet, retching and making small moaning sounds. Howard rubbed his back caringly and gently pulling his hair away from his face.

When he was done, his hand groped around for a while before he found the handle and flushed the toilet, but didn't get up from the floor,

"Vince?" Howard asked, tentatively, "Are you ok?" Vince looked up slowly, his face glazed with tears. He nodded morosely, but Howard put his arms around the smaller man, enveloping him in a hug while they were both still sat on the floor,

"What's wrong sweetheart?" Howard whispered, his voice cracking. He didn't know what to do, Vince might be suffering from depression, but he might be crying because he'd been sick, which had happened before, "Tell me" he implored, at the point of crying himself.

"M'sorry Howard" Vince mumbled, "'M so so sorry, I just.." He was cut off by Howard shaking him by the shoulders and growling,

"Don't you dare say that Vince! You have nothing to apologise for! I just want to know what's wrong" His tone softened at the last statement and he was glad to see Vince's eyes free from tears,

"Thanks Howard" He whispered, "I just, thought you might blame me for, how upset you were, thought it'd be better if maybe I wasn't here" Howard shook his head sadly,

"Vince," He started seriously, "You know that's not true, and you know it would be a whole lot worse if you weren't here. We can get through this Vince, you've just got to talk to me" Vince nodded and wiped his eyes,

"I'm just being... being silly" he said, sniffing. He stayed in Howard's arms a bit longer, before snuggling in deeper and muttering,

"Headache". Howard nodded and pulled him up, wary of his aching muscles and said,

"You brush your teeth, I'll get you some paracetamol"

--

A while later they were both curled up on the sofa. Vince had brushed his teeth, washed his face and hair and got into some old pyjamas. He layed his head on Howard's lap and sighed softly,

"I wanted to do this for ages" Howard looked down at his shining but tranquil face and just nodded in agreement. He didn't want to say anything that might make Vince remember the whole 'time travel' lark. Unfortunately, that seemed to be running through Vince's head as well, and he slowly began to sit up, careful not to aggravate his headache further. Looking into Howard's eyes he said softly,

"I know you don't believe me about 1973, but it was real. I know it sounds stupid and's hard to believe, but how come I have so much detail about it all? I bet I could name all the senior officers, and if we went into the collators office..."

"The what?" Howard interrupted, confused,

"Oh, the er... the archives. Anyway, I bet there, we'd find all of them"

"Vince, you need to rest, your tired from all the physio and all the emotional strain," Vince looked like he was about to interrupt, but Howard held up his hand," Tell you what, if tomorrow, you're absolutely set on this, we'll go down to the station, you should see all the cards and flowers in your office! And you can look, ok?" He stroked Vince's hair back and smiled at the light in his fiancee's eyes.

Vince got up carefully and Howard followed him to the bed. He was confused as to why Vince breathed a sigh of relief seeing the bedclothes had been changed, but didn't question it. Vince meanwhile, was remembering the whole 'dead body in the factory' incident, and had felt sick again at the thought of a body on their bed, but the bedclothes looked like they'd been changed just yesterday, so he happily slid under the sheets and smiled sleepily at Howard,

"Night Vince, see you in the morning"

"Night H'wrd, s'good to be home" Howard nodded in agreement and left the room.

He sat on the sofa and debated over calling Naboo round. He'd said the shaman should come round, to check on Vince, but they had both thought that might be a bit too much strain, as his first night back home. Then he started thinking about what he'd said to Vince. He tried to convince himself that it was because he wanted to put Vince's mind at ease that they'd check the archives (Where had collators office come from?), but was it really to put Howard's mind at rest? In his world, people couldn't go back in time, it just wasn't physically possible. Besides, Vince obviously hadn't left the hospital in those two months, so it had to be in his head. It was quite easy (Especially in Vince's case, with his over active imagination) to make things up, and hadn't he said back at the hospital that his DCI was called Hunt or something? He could just have heard names and places and slotted it all in. He could have added hundreds of bits, the detail had nothing to do with whether Howard believed him or not.

The older man sighed, and didn't get to bed that night until two in the morning, and even then he didn't sleep, just tossed and turned, staring atthe back of Vince's head. Was he in 1973 now? Or was he having a dreamless sleep, brought on by the medication he'd been made to take? Whatever was happening, he didn't make a sound, which made it even harder to sleep.

I want to leave it here for now, cause I want you all to ponder on those little thoughts that're plaguing Howard lol. Was it all in his head or not? Review? xxx