A/N: Back to first person again. I don't really know what to say about this story anymore. Except that it's angsty and I'm not sure I like it. I'll keep on with it though, because I've got it all sorted out now and I know where it's going. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: NO.

Howard's POV

The weeks passed, and Vince's possessions slowly began to disappear from our room. He came when I was asleep, took a couple more things, and left half the money he'd made from selling his artwork. He was always quiet. I only saw him once, when he knocked over the easel, waking me up. I let him think I was still asleep, and watched him. He crept around slowly and cautiously, picking up a discarded shirt and a few pencils. In the end, he walked back to the door. I turned over to I could see him go, and he looked at me. I could see his eyes gleaming even in the darkness. Then he turned around and left me listening to his light footsteps on the stairs. He'd been back several times since then. But by late November, everything that Vince owned was gone. Apart from his jumper, still blood-stained and reminding me of him. Winter was descending quickly, and the artists were beginning to worry. There was no heating. Talks of stocking up on blankets and extra clothes were happening everywhere. And I looked at Vince's jumper every day. He didn't have another one. He must have been freezing. And after a long time deliberating, I made a decision. I found some of the money Vince had left me, picked up the jumper, and walked down the stairs. I had to get it washed for him. I went to the nearest laundrette fairly often; wearing dirty clothes wasn't an option. I'd never thought of taking the jumper before. I got a shock when I opened the back door, as the wind was cutting. Snow was falling heavily, beginning to gather in corners and settle on the roads. I was glad of my own jacket. I made my way to the laundrette quickly; keen to get out of the elements. It was a relief to step into the warm, damp, fabric-softener scented air. I threw the jumper into a washing machine, put my money in, and sat down to wait for the cycle to finish.

Finally, the light on the machine flicked on, and I took out the jumper. It was warm and dry, and I held it out to study it. The bloodstains had mostly come out, although there was a faint shadow in one place where one had been. It was still very creased, but I figured Vince would just be thankful for something to wear. I left the laundrette and headed back towards the squat. My thoughts turned to Vince quickly. It had been a long time since we'd spoken. Almost two months. Everything was sort of fading now. I was learning to live without the emotions. I missed him. I missed him more than I missed jazz, or even the flat. He had been there when nothing else was. I wanted him back. But I couldn't show it. Who could I show it to? I spoke to Jane in the room next door if I saw her, and Alena came to see me sometimes. That was all. I didn't see the point in telling them. Jane wouldn't understand, and I got the feeling I wouldn't need to tell Alena. The way she looked at me, I thought she probably knew. She had visited me a few days before, as Finley was out again, and Vince didn't dare go anywhere:

"How are you doing?" she had asked. I just shrugged. "Okay. I should have guessed that. You'll be alright, Howard. You're getting by alright, aren't you?"

"I suppose so. I'm more worried about Vince than myself."

"He's alright, I think. He seems to be feeling a bit better about himself now. But, Howard, there are scars on his arms-"

"I know. He cut himself. I'm surprised you only just noticed."

"Can't we help him?"

"I don't know how. I don't dare go near him anyway."

"I know. It'll be alright. You'll both be fine. You'll see."

I felt like I was blind, because I wasn't seeing yet. I knew I had to be patient. But although I didn't let it out, I was frustrated. I was tired of waiting. Waiting didn't do anything; you had to make things happen. One of us had to do something about it. One of us had to pluck up the courage.

When I reached the squat again, I stopped at the second floor and looked through the door for Vince. I didn't see him, but he could have been in there without me seeing. I was too scared to go in. But someone was heading this way. I stopped the female artist as she walked by.

"Excuse me," I said, "Have you seen Vince anywhere?"

"Vince? Who's Vince?"

"My friend? Hangs around with Finley and Alena."

"Can you describe him?"

"A bit shorter than me, skinny, longish black hair?"

"Oh. Yeah, I think I know who you mean. Always looks a bit scared?"

"Probably. You seen him anywhere?"

"Last time I saw him, he was in this workshop, but he's gone now."

"Oh. Thanks for your time, anyway." I headed up to the next floor. No one there had seen him either. Eventually, I got back to our room. Nobody in the whole place knew where he was. I hadn't even had a chance sighting. There wasn't anywhere else... Unless he was in the garden. Surely not, not in the snow without a jumper? I shook my head, but headed out there. I didn't see him at first; he had found a good place. There were only two trees in the garden, tall birch trees. One was up against the wall. He was sitting in the fork of the low branches next to the wall, making him almost invisible from the building. I noticed he was wearing someone else's cardigan; it was too big and baggy for him. He was chewing vacantly on the sleeve as he stared into space. He didn't see me approaching until I was right next to him, and I made him jump.

"Howard?" he asked.

"Hey, Vince." I tried a smile. His face went from sad and dark to bright with smiles. Funny how after all that had happened, he could still summon that trademark grin, even if it was a little shaky.

"I've missed you, Howard."

"I've missed you too."

"But what if Finley sees us?" his smile faded.

"Don't worry about that, Vince. I brought you something."

"What is it?" I held out his jumper. His eyes widened.

"You washed it for me. Thank you."

"Whose is the one you've got on now?"

"I don't know. Alena gave me it earlier, but it's too big to be hers."

"Yeah. Do you mind if I sit with you?"

"No, come on." he moved along the branch so I could sit next to him. "How have you been?" He asked.

"Oh, you know... Okay, I think."

"It's been hard for you too, then?" He asked, looking at me intently. It was only then that I realised how terrible he looked. His cheeks were hollow; he had dark circles under his eyes; the eyes themselves looked teary.

"Vince, what's happened to you?" I asked. "You look-"

"I look like shit. I know." he sighed. "I don't know me anymore. I look in a mirror, and I don't recognise myself. I'm not me anymore, Howard. I'm what's left behind, that's all."

"Vince, we're going to get through this, you know that? We're gonna get ourselves sorted out."

"No we aren't. You have to accept that this is it now. This is how I'm gonna end."

"Vince, don't talk like that. I'm not going to let that happen."

"But, Finley..."

"Fuck Finley. He isn't right in the head. Come here." I hugged him and he leant on me, clinging to my jacket like it was keeping him from floating away. I stroked his hair, knowing it comforted him. He buried his face in my shoulder and didn't move for a long time. I just held him, trying to support him. But I had to say something.

"Come back, Vince. Come back to me." I whispered. He finally looked up with frightened eyes.

"I can't. I'm better off with Finley. And so are you, better off without me putting your life in danger."

"Vince, the only life you're endangering now is your own. The longer you stay with him, the more likely that something terrible happens to you."

"I know. But I don't want it to happen to you instead. I want you to be safe."

"I am safe. Please, Vince. Come back. I need you."

"No you don't, Howard." he said sadly. "I can't come back. I have to stay. I'm sorry." he jumped down from the branch and I followed him, still holding his jumper.

"Vince-"

"No." he spun around and looked at me from under his eyelashes. "I wish I could. I want to. We're both better off like this."

"At least take your jumper." I held it out to him again.

"Yeah. Thank you." he took it in both arms.

"You're welcome." He started walking back to the doors.

"We need to keep meeting up, Vince." I called after him. He stopped, turned around, and nodded.

"I'll come and see you." he said.

"Soon?" I asked hopefully.

"Maybe." he carried on walking. I watched as he disappeared into the building without turning back. I was slightly in shock, and I didn't know what to do. So I went back to the tree, sat back down, and stared at the half finished sculptures. Wishing Vince had accepted my offer. Wishing Finley had never started on him. Wishing none of this had ever happened.

Reviews would be fantabulous, if you feel like it. Much love x :)