Howard was panting, he could feel the sweat sticking his shirt to his back as he heaved yet another box down Vince's stairs. He staggered out of the door pondering why all the boxes Vince was using were such an awkward shape. He couldn't see where he was going at all but an "Ooops. Watch it." told him he'd walked into the postman.

"Sorry." Howard said, swinging around so he could see the man's face.

"Are you" he peered down at the solitary letter in his hand, "Vince Noir?"

"No. He's in there." Howard nodded at the house awkwardly, "Just give him a shout."

"Right. Okay."

Howard stumbled ungraciously to the his car and tried to slide this box into the limited space next to the others. He hardly used his car because of the chaos on the city roads, so he'd only bought a little one but, as he tried to squeeze Vince's stuff, Tetris-style, onto the back seat, he began to regret his purchase. He wiped his brow and frowned to himself. Where the hell were Vince and Kath? They were supposed to be helping with the moving but so far he was the only one who'd lugged anything to the car. He decided to wait for five minutes, just to see if either of them really did bring anything out to the car. They didn't. Well, he wasn't standing for that. He marched back to the house.

"Come on you lazy gits!" he said, as he found them sat on the sofa in the living room "I feel like I'm the only one doing anything." Then, noticing their sorrowful silence, he asked; "What's happened?"

"It's… it's my dad." Vince whispered, staring down at the letter ahead of him.

"Oh that dickhead." Howard growled. He could feel the red mist descend whenever he thought of that man, "What's the ungrateful bastard done now?"

"He's dead." Vince gasped and the tears were falling down his cheeks. He stood up and buried his face in Howard's shoulder.

"Oh." was all Howard could manage as he put his arms around Vince. He couldn't pretend to be upset about the vicar's death. Quite frankly, he hated the man for what he'd put Vince through and if he was honest, he was annoyed that Vince was so upset.

--

The moving had slowed in vigour but Howard was still hoisting box after box to his car. He was not letting Vince's dad ruin things for him and Vince again. Vince was slumped on the sofa, reading and re-reading the letter. Most of his mum's shaky handwriting had blurred and melted from the unrelenting onslaught of tears but he knew it off by heart and words kept leaping out at him; Dad. Dead. Heart attack. Asked for you on his deathbed. Funeral. Love it if you came. Love you. Mum.

"Howard." Vince said quietly as the older man passed through the sitting room to get some of the kitchen utensils.

"Yeah?"

"What are we doing on the 20th?"

Howard frowned and glanced at the, now crumpled, note clutched in Vince's fingers. "No way." he said angrily. "I'm not going to that bastard's funeral."

"B-but, but," Vince stammered, tears threatening to spill, "he's still my dad."

"So? He was a jerk. A twisted, corrupt human being. The world's better off without him."

"Shut up." Vince screamed, getting to his feet and squaring up to the older man. "Stop talking about him like that. He was still my dad, whatever he did."

"He wasn't a good dad to you." cried Howard. "He put you through hell, why don't you just celebrate that he's gone?"

"Because he's my dad and now he's…" Vince trailed off, tears choking him for a moment until he yelled, "Why can't you just understand?"

"Vince. I've understood. I've been patient with you, I've waited… god knows I have waited. I have done everything you've asked me to. I've listened. I've understood everything… but this…" He gestured wildly at Vince's current state. "I'm never going to understand this!"

"But he's-"

"Your dad? I know. You've said about a million times but that doesn't take away everything he did to you."

"But I-"

"Vince! He was a knob. I say 'Good riddance'."

Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in his cheek and he saw spots dancing in front of his eyes.

"Don't speak ill of the dead." Vince whispered, before collapsing, sobbing painfully, against Howard's chest and Howard let him because he wanted to understand. He wanted to be there for Vince but it was hard when he was acting in a way that Howard simply couldn't comprehend. He held him and rubbed gentle circles into his back. He made soothing little shush noises, stroked his hair, kissed his temple. He played the supportive partner and that's why he was so surprised by what Vince said next;

"Maybe moving in together wasn't such a good idea."

"What?"

"This has opened my eyes" Vince said slowly. "If you can't understand this then… maybe we're not strong enough yet. I'm not strong enough. I don't want to lose you because we pushed it too soon."

"But…"

All Howard's reasons and excuses, all his pleads and begs fell on deaf ears. Vince's mind was set and Howard and Kath were forced to start moving all his stuff back to the house whilst he led on his bed and wept a puddle into the sheets.

Kath hardly spoke to Howard as they moved the boxes. He was moody. Annoyed at how Vince's dad could still influence his life, as though he hadn't done enough damage already. She didn't know what to say to that. She wasn't even sure what had really happened. All she knew was Howard seemed furious and Vince was torn up inside.

Vince wanted to hate his dad but he couldn't. He wanted to not care about his death but he did and he couldn't stop himself. He wanted to move in with Howard but he was terrified it wouldn't work, especially now after how Howard just behaved.

But, more than all of that, he wished he could go back to being eleven years old. He wished he could go back the days of water fights down the park. The days he and Howard had spent throwing Satsuma's at cats. The days when summers had lasted forever. The days when the only things that mattered were playing, mischief and Howard. He wished, over and over, that he could start life again. In the foetal position, on the bed, he cried until his throat was sore and his gut was tight. He cried until his eyes were puffy and red. He cried until he couldn't cry anymore and then, he fell asleep.

That's how Howard found him, an hour or so later, all cried out and curled up in a ball asleep on the white duvet with an uneasy expression on his face. Howard sat gently on the soft bed and ran a hand through Vince's sweaty hair, carefully dislodging a few strands. He sighed and pressed a kiss to his cheek breathing a tender 'I'm sorry' in his ear.