A/N: Yet another chapter of this fanfiction arrives. I'm not sure what to say about it. Just that it's sad. And that I extended the metaphor of Vince=sunshine way too far. Sorry about that. Anyway, I hope you like it :)

By the way, just so you know, I imagine Finley as being Irish. No idea why, I just do.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Boosh. I would have thought that was obvious by now.

Howard's POV

It was two pm, and once again I was alone in our room. I wasn't doing anything in particular; just staring into space, reflecting on the events of the night before. When Vince had told me he wanted to be alone outside, it hurt. Almost physically. I had been rejected and left behind by my best friend. And this morning, surprise surprise, it had happened again. He was gone when I woke up. At least today he had had the decency to write me a note:

Howard. Gone to talk to Alena. Don't come looking for me. Be back at four-ish. Vince x

I didn't know if he was telling the truth about talking to Alena. If he was, I prayed that she wouldn't tell him about our conversation the other day. I wasn't sure I trusted her in any case. She had seemed judgemental. I should have guessed, I thought bitterly. She's just another one of Vince's hipster friends. But then, she had given me advice about Vince. I sighed. I just didn't know who I trusted anymore. I wasn't always sure I trusted Vince. He wasn't telling me the truth anymore. Even so, I knew that was just because he wanted his secrets to stay safe. Vince, when I got right down to it, was my world. I could barely remember life before I met him, let alone imagine life after he'd gone. I closed my eyes and tried, but I couldn't envisage a world without his sparkly, cheery presence by my side. Vince was like sunshine, that late-afternoon glow which creeps through the clouds to bring you joy and keep you warm. Where there was darkness, Vince would be fussing about his looks, making cheery quips and grinning optimistically. Under normal circumstances, anyway. Now the darkness had fallen, and he'd been dimmed to the dying glow of a star's last moments. It hurt, seeing my best friend that way. Something big was going on, something I didn't understand. I didn't want to force him to tell me, but the longer I went without knowing, the longer I spent my nights tossing and turning, unable to sleep with worry or held in the grip of terrifying dreams that dissolved as soon as I opened my eyes. I stood up and went over to the back window, opening it wide to let in the cool air. I looked down at the garden, where one of the artists was using an electric saw to cut large pieces of copper. Sparks flew up, and I stared at them, mesmerised by the tiny, glowing points of light sailing across the scenery.

Four o clock came and went. Then four fifteen. Then four thirty. I stared at my watch, agitated. Finally, at four forty-two, Vince sauntered in, looking dishevelled and tired. I didn't say anything about his bad timekeeping. He had said four-ish after all. But something was off.

"Vince?" I asked cautiously. "Are you alright?" He considered for a moment.

"No." He eventually conceded, his voice husky. "No, I don't think I am."

"What's wrong, what happened? Was it Alena?"

"No."

"Was it Finley?" Again he considered for a while.

"Could have been."

"Can I have a look at you? I want to make sure you're okay."

"Mmm." He blinked slowly and opened his eyes wide. I took a step closer and looked at them, frowning. They were red and bloodshot, like he'd been crying again. And there was a strange odour coming off him, of smoke and… something else. Something worse. Suddenly, it all clicked into place. I put two and two together and arrived at a complex figure with six decimal places and an unsolvable unknown.

"Oh, no. No." I shook my head, trying to dislodge the thought from my brain. No. Vince would never... he'd be too innocent… but this place had taken his innocence away. And all the signs were there. The red eyes, the smell, the strange behaviour. "Vince, what did you smoke?"

"I dunno, Howard. Prob'ly weed. That's what it started as, maybe they've gimme somthin' stronger now."

"Oh, no. How long has this been going on?"

"'Bout a month."

"Jesus. Vince, you mustn't go back to them, alright? You can't keep doing this, you'll get addicted, and then-"

"S'too late for that, Howard. I told you; you can't help me. I'm gone." A bit of clarity seemed to seep through to his baffled mind, and I saw a tear in his eye. He blinked it away as I said:

"No, you're not. I can help you, Vince. Or if not me, someone. A doctor, anything. Anyone."

"No, Howard." He said more firmly. "No one."

"Who started it? Who gave you it first?"

"I dunno, maybe Finley, I don't remember."

"Right." I made for the door, but Vince grabbed my arm.

"No, don't!" He almost shouted it, his big eyes wide and full of tears. He looked like a scared little kid, like Alice lost in a dark and dangerous Wonderland. "Please, Howard." He pleaded, much softer now. "Please, if you go after Finley, he'll make our lives a misery. He'll hurt you, and then I'll be alone. Please." I stepped away from the door, but Vince held onto my arm, looking down intently at the ground. I hugged him close and said:

"Why didn't you tell me, little man?"

"I thought you'd be mad."

"I am, but not at you. I'm mad at the person that introduced you to it."

"They made me, Howard." He started to sob. "I said no, but they made me." I began to rub his back, trying to soothe him as he cried. He began to make a high-pitched keening noise that I'd never heard come from a human. It was animalistic, instinctual; like he couldn't help it. It took a long time for him to calm down, and by then, his eyes were even redder. I told him to go to bed, to sleep it off a bit. He nodded and lay down, not bothering to change. It took a while, but as soon as I was satisfied that he was asleep, I went down the stairs, my face creased into an ever-deepening scowl. I reached the second floor studio and marched in. Finley was across the room with Alena; they were laughing over something. Within seconds I was looming over Finley, fists clenched.

"You bastard. You son of a bitch. There aren't enough insults on the planet to describe you." I said in disgust.

"Well, well. Howard. Vince's mate? Yeah. You shouldn't be here." He smiled at me, and the glint in his eye made my stomach turn.

"You shouldn't be introducing my best friend to drugs!" I snapped. "He just came upstairs to me and had a breakdown. And he's being doing that for a month, on his own. He was too scared to tell me in case you hurt one of us!"

"Really?" He said sarcastically. "I'm touched. How sweet; the two of you, looking out for each other." He took a step closer to me. "How special do you think you are, Howard? You aren't that important to him, are you? He'd rather be down here than with you."

"That's because you are the one giving him the drugs that he's addicted to! What do you want him for anyway?"

"He's my pet. My little performing monkey. Isn't he... hmm, what's the word? Ah. Weak. I think-" I didn't get to hear what he thought, as I punched him in the face. He fell over, knocking over a weird sculpture. The crash made everyone in the room turn and stare. Finley sat up, rubbing his face. "Got a good arm on you, eh? Still, I'm sure mine are better." He jumped up and flung himself at me, fists moving faster than I could keep up with. I got in another punch, and blood began to drip from his nose. But he was winning, I could feel it. As soon as he began to slow down, I threw in one last-ditch attempt. It connected with his cheekbone, and he fell back again. He was still. So was everyone else in the room, glaring at me with a kind of malevolent, grudging respect. Only Alena spoke.

"Howard, what are you doing? Run!" I came to my senses and did as she said. I heard light footsteps behind me on the stairs and realised she was following me. When we reached the room, I sat down on the floor and pressed a hand to my cheek. Finley wore a gold ring, and it had cut me. Alena sat in front of me.

"What happened earlier, with Vince?" I explained my figuring out of Vince's problem, and the subsequent anguish. She looked guiltily at the floor, and I realised something.

"Hang on." I said. "That means you knew all along!" She looked up at me and nodded.

"I'm sorry, Howard. I wanted to tell you when you came to see me. The point is, Finley did this to me as well. He offered me drugs and kept giving them until I was addicted. Then he started making me pay. I daresay a little bit of your weekly money goes towards this. I only tried to persuade Vince because Finley was sitting there with a little leery smile and those creepy fucking eyes. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ever let you come here; you'd be better off on the streets." I looked away from her, unable to make eye contact.

"I understand. You should go now. Get back and see whether Finley's awake." She nodded sadly and walked away. I went and sat down on the camp bed, gingerly feeling my face. It felt battered, but I'd survive. And it was worth it to knock that prick out. Suddenly, there was a groan and Vince opened his eyes again.

"Howard, what are you doing?"

"Nothing, Vince. Go back to sleep." He looked at me properly and I saw the confusion in his eyes turn to anger.

"Howard, what the fuck did you do?"

"What does it look like I did?"

"You went down there, didn't you? You picked a fight with him when I told you not to! And you fucking lost!"

"No, Vince, I did not lose. I knocked him out, I'll have you know!"

"It doesn't matter, does it? We're doomed in any case."

"Why, what will he do to you?"

"I don't fucking know, that's the problem!" He shouted.

"I'm sorry Vince, I was just-"

"Just trying to protect me, I know, big deal. Instead, you've ruined my life. Thanks a lot." He stood up and headed for the door.

"Vince, no, I'm sorry!" I called after him.

"Fuck off!" He shouted. I could hear his voice crack a little.

"Vince-" I followed him out to the stairwell, but he was already on the next floor down. I knew he would go back. Back to Alena, back to Finley. And worst of all, back to the drugs.

Well, so much for no angst. Sorry about that.

Also, thanks to GrowlyNoir for giving me the idea of having Howard punch Finley. Reviews are pure awesome.