Chapter Text
Everything is soft, rose tinted. At first just blurry pink shapes and low unintelligible sounds like someone playing music in another room. Then the shapes take form, into a very familiar shape with a wide back and willowy legs and soft hair hanging down. Vince feels warmth bloom in his chest, wants to call his name but something tells him he’s not meant to. He’s viewing the scene through a doorway, peeking around the corner like he’s not meant to be seen there. Howard is singing something but he can’t quite make out the words, just the gentle tones and the Yorkshire shapes his mouth makes. It’s soothing. Vince can tell he’s holding something but from the angle he can’t quite see what. Then his large frame turns to the side and Vince can see the drowsy toddler that’s held safely to his chest. Their small hands clinging to his rollneck fiercely. Of course, their daughter, his mind supplies. Of course that’s what Howard’s doing. He's putting her to bed. Howard turns and looks at him then, like he can hear the pieces fitting together in his brain all of a sudden. He smiles tiredly at him around the lullaby on his lips and Vince is suddenly by his side. His hand slides to join Howard’s on their daughter’s back and he sings the unknown song. Where he’s meant to be.
Then the scene starts to dissolve, the colors begin to wash together like chalk drawings in the rain. Vince panics, holding onto it, trying to grab onto it but it’s like trying to hold onto water. As he feels his eyes start to open the disappointment turns to comfort at feeling Howard’s warmth under his cheek. He must have slept in, a lazy day in bed. Then his eyes open more to the emerald moonlight coming through the leaves. Oh, not in bed. Definitely not in bed. He bolts upright, his stomach in knots and his heart beginning to sprint.
“Howard! Howard!” He pats his face, trying to wake him from an equally deep sleep. It’d probably been hours, they’d been asleep for far too long. Howard sniffs harshly and scrunches his face up, wakening maddeningly slow. He mumbles something and Vince bites his lip, about to reel back and slap his handsome mug when his eyes open.
“Vince?” He smiles, still in a haze. Then his mind does the same screeching catch up that Vince went through. All the alarm bells ring at once. Recognition dawns on his face and he nearly shoves Vince off of him to get up. “Shit!”
“Yeah I know!” Vince yells, grabbing his hat and joining Howard in making a mad dash for the carpet. They run back through the picturesque grounds with the jungle fast approaching and Vince tries his best not to trip over his own feet.
Howard stops abruptly, Vince follows. His hands search frantically in the thick underbrush, his breath coming fast and ragged.
“No!” His eyes are searching in the same scrabbling motion as his fingers. He’s on the edge of tears. “No no no! I can’t find it!”
“Howard-” Vince tries to take his hand, tries to think of something. He can’t be still, doesn’t hear him.
“God I knew I shouldn’t have said yes. Where-” Vince grabs him by the arm.
“Hang on, I’ve got-” he waves his hand in front of Howard’s face to show the silver band on his finger then lifts it to his lips. “Karambit!”
A puff of blue smoke appears in front of them and out of it steps the sturdy person from earlier, a toothbrush hanging out of their mouth. They look between the two of them reading the room before removing the toothbrush. “How can I help fellas?”
“Kass we can’t find our ride can you get us to earth right quick?” Vince says all in one breathe, still holding Howard’s arm with intense need. “Please!”
Kass blinks, taken aback by the situation they’ve just been thrown into. Impatiently Vince raises his eyebrows and nods to them in a gesture to hurry it up. “Yes, of course, uhm,” they reach into their pocket and Vince wants to scream with how slowly they’re moving. Their hand returns clenched in a fist, and when they open it there’s a pile of fine powder in their palm. “Good luck, Vince, Howard.” They say as a send off, then Vince is coughing as the powder is blown into their faces.
His Vision is all blue and hazy at first before shapes begin to solidify. Lights hanging in a shop window, a sign that reads “Nabootique.” He never thought he’d be so happy to see the odd little shop, the sickly green light beneath the counter inside looks so friendly now. Then it hits him that he’s viewing it from the middle of the street, just before a taxi swerves to avoid them. Howards hand is groping around to find his once again and then he’s being taken out of the street and into the minimally warmer air of the shop. The reliable bell singing its welcoming jingle just like any other day.
There’s a commotion from upstairs, shouting voices and gorilla snarls. They both look at the ceiling as if they can see through the plaster and wood to the scene above.
“I just hope we’re not too late,” Howard whispers. They both thud up the stairs, in the same clothes as they had what feels like days ago but with a markedly different kind of excitement at their heels. Howard is still gripping Vince’s hand like a lifeline. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Waiting for them at the top of the stairs is a similar scene to the one before. Guy is standing by his decrepit ship, his spindly limbs jerking about, holding a gun pointing at Naboo who is standing in the lounge. What’s changed this time is that the look on Naboo’s face sends a jolt of panic through Vince’s gut. A slight show of emotion for him might as well be a full blown mental breakdown. He’s afraid, Naboo is afraid. Guy has noticed their entrance as well.
“Not you nonces again!”
The shouting makes Vince want to shout too, to become that twisted up mirror. He takes a step forward, feeling probably too brave for his own good. He’s stopped abruptly by Howard’s steady grip still tethering him in place. If he really wanted to he could break it, could squirm free and go mad. But he listens to Howard’s words spelled out in the strong fingers on his palm. It wouldn’t be good.
“We’ve got the stuff you wanted there’s no need to be a tit!” He shouts back. “Let Naboo do the-”
Guy interrupts him with a guffaw then his bony fingers seem to tighten around the gun, whitenuckling it. “I gave you 24 bloody hours! And guess what? You didn’t deliver. Is it so hard to just do one spell? One tiny spell that I asked for years ago?” His talking is gaining speed, running his words all together and sputtering. “No! I’ve waited long enough!”
“Who are you, the center of the universe?” Vince buts in, trying to sound cool but landing more on hissy.
“Vince,” Howard's voice comes quietly behind him. There’s a tug on his arm, trying to get him back but he stays where he is. “Look-look er guy” Howard starts, full negotiator if not a shaky one. “I’ve got the bag right here that has all the objects. Now according to the agreement-”
“Shut! Up!” Guy screeches. Naboo looks between him and Howard and the gun still pointing at his face. “And put a muzzle on your ugly wife!”
Howard puffs up, his voice comes out knocked down a register. “You don’t get to-”
“Howard it’s alright,” Vince soothes, even as he gets that shivery feeling of being protected and shouted over. It’s always been Howard keen on defending him, from the first moment they met.
“Yeah, shut your ugly mug!”
But Vince had thrown some punches.
Vince lunges for him, wrenching his hand from Howard’s in the process. He’s almost there. The gun is just a hair away, he’s going to grab it and then it’ll be over. Then he feels an arm taking hold of his middle. A body lunging after him, throwing him to the side.
A horrible popping sizzling sound like an electrical wire that’s been cut splits the air. Sparks fly and the three of them are on the floor. For a moment he thinks he’s been shot, he must have been. He hits the floor hard. But he doesn’t hurt enough. There’s a heavy weight on his back he grunts as he pushes it off.
Howard lands with a horrible thud. Like a proud old oak tree that’s been in the park since your grandmother was small.
“Howard?”
There’s a nasty looking mark on his chest, ruining his nice sweater. He’s not moving. Vince feels cold. He crawls closer to put both hands on his face. Still nothing.
“Howard?”
No response. Panic begins to take hold.
“Oh Howard wake up please,” his voice is coming out all high and quivering. All of a sudden he feels very small. Tears sting his eyes and there’s no one to wipe them away.
Pulse, he should find a pulse he reminds himself. He puts his hands on Howard’s pulse points to feel the gentle flutter of his heart. He has a pulse, he’s there, his heart is still beating, he’s breathing. Vince breathes a shaky sigh of relief.
A new feeling eclipses his grief. The tears on his face run hot and his blood boils even hotter. He gets to his feet, looking down at Howard’s still body on the floor and turns to where Guy is half sitting on the rug.
“You shot Howard,” he says barely moving his mouth to make the words.
“I-I’m sorry I didn’t-”
“You shot Howard!” He yells this time like he wants to, from his throat and from his chest. Slowly stalking towards him like a leopard ready to bring its jaws down on the neck of its prey. Guy is scrabbling away from him, his eyes massive. “Get out! Take your broken fucking ship and get out!” The silver heel of his boot hits the floor right in front of those scrambling legs that flinch with the thud.
“You-you won’t do anything to me,” Guy stutters.
Naboo’s voice is beside him suddenly, he hadn’t heard him move. “No, but Bollo will.”
Bollo rumbles from the kitchen, slamming a big ape fist down on the counter.
“Flippin’ hell don’t break the counter,” Naboo scolds quietly.
“Sorry.”
With the added incentive the sweaty intruder clambers back into his ship through the unconventional way he came. It starts up with a horrible screech and nearly shakes the whole flat down with its exit before it buzzes off into the dark sky. Bits of the wall crumble away in its wake and the lounge fills with a rush of cold night air. Vince feels frail without the anger holding him up, like a puppet whose strings have been suddenly snipped. He turns to see Naboo bent over Howard and kneels on the other side.
“S’he gonna be alright Naboo?” Vince asks, already becoming tearful. Naboo gives him a side-eye and nods. Another puppet string is clipped as he wipes at his face with the corner of his sleeve. It doesn’t matter, more tears replace them quickly.
“Give him a moment to wake up, he’ll be fine. He's like a Gorilla this one, takes a lot to knock him down.” Bollo nods to corroborate. The pair leave the room, Naboo nodding to Vince in a knowing kind of way. “Be back in a bit yeah?”
Vince nods back, he’ll have to get him something really good later, then turns back to the unconscious man in front of him.
“Howard,” Vince whispers, because it's all he can manage. “Howard I’m so sorry.” His throat is raw from shouting but Howard’s breath is evening out and that’s enough. Though his eyes remain closed. He feels the words bubbling up anyway, fighting with the lump in his throat.
“I’m sorry I said it was boring, what we’ve been doing-I’m sorry I made you feel boring Howard. I love being boring with you! Being with you will never be anything but the best time I’ve ever had. I feel so stupid!” He takes a stuttering breath, trying to keep going even if he can’t hear. “We’ve had such good times, even when we’re doing the most boring thing known to man. We could listen to old jazz records and sit in squeaky old rocking chairs like old gimmers for the rest of our lives and you’d still make it worthwhile Howard. And I’m sorry I scared you, this is the most scared I’ve been. I don’t ever want you to feel like this again.” Vince has more to say, but he feels he’s talking himself in circles. “Howard, please wake up.”
Howard’s face begins to move, he looks fitful, scrunching his eyes even more closed as he grunts in pain. Vince holds his breath and takes Howard’s hand in both of his, kissing along his knuckles. His eyes open, just little slits. It’s the best thing he’s seen all day. Vince sniffles, nuzzling Howard’s hand as he straightens his fingers to cup his cheek.
“Hey,” Howard’s voice comes out all gravelly. “No need for tears, little man.”
“Hey,” Vince creaks. It’s taking every ounce of willpower leap onto him right now. “Did you hear all that?”
He nods. Another wash of relief.
Now that his eyes are open Vince can see they’re misted over with unshed tears. His index curls towards Vince. “Come down here,” he rasps. “Feels like my skin’s on fire, can’t move.”
Hesitantly he leans down to be inches from his face. Howard brings him the rest of the way with the hand on his face. He kisses him gently, like drinking the honeyed liquid from a beloved teacup full of cracks.
“I love you,” Howard whispers, the breath tickling Vince’s lips. “More than I can say.”
“I love you too, Howard,” he returns just as softly. The last puppet string snaps and he lets some of his weight onto Howard’s chest.
“Ah, careful,” he hisses. Vince jumps back with his hands balled up in apology.
“Sorry!” He hisses back, feeling a bit helpless for what to do. “I’ll go n get Naboo back in he’ll have something.”
Howard doesn’t let go. Vince looks down at him, puzzled.
“Please,” he intertwines their fingers. “Don’t go just yet.”
“Howard I’ve got to go get him you-”
“I’m alright, Vince. Just...need you near me.” It’s unlike Howard to be so impractical and that worries Vince more than anything. Maybe that zap did something to his brainbox. Then again, he knows what he’s feeling. The unease and the slithering fear that as soon as he’s out of his eyeline something will happen. He sees the swirls of heavy emotion in those gentle brown eyes. He doesn’t really want to leave either.
“Alright, Howard.” He settles back on the floor next to him, one hand in Howard’s and the other petting through his soft curls. “I’ll stay.”