Panic Attack
Set after Howard returns at the end of 'Chokes'.
****
Vince was crying. No, not just crying. Vince was on the floor, his legs splayed out at odd angles like a toddler, while his whole body shook with the painful sobs being ripped from his body.
Howard couldn't stand it. It wasn't right. It wasn't supposed to go this way. This was supposed to be their happy reunion. He had really thought that the gift would be the icing on the cake, the thing that would make things better, and instead Vince was crying so hard Howard worried he might vomit, and holding the little jewelry box in one white knuckled fist as though it was his lifeline. It wasn't supposed to be this way. It was never supposed to be this way. And now Vince was struggling for breath and Howard knew, deep down, what he should do, what he could do to fix it, but he just didn't know if he could.
And then Vince looked up at him, managing to look beautiful even with smudged mascara and eyes red with crying.
"Howard?"
...
"Howard?"
****
"Howard? Howard. Howard? Howard. Howard. Howard! Howard?"
...
"Please look at me, Howard?"
Howard sighed. He couldn't ignore that voice. It was whiny and a bit pitiful but, if he was honest with himself, it was also adorable. He turned away from his open suitcase and his detailed 'To be packed' list, to look at the pointy man-child perched on his bed. He tried to make his expression stern but when he saw Vince flinch he thought he might have gone a little far.
"Howard?" Vince asked in a small voice.
"What is it, Vince?" Howard tried to make his voice relaxed and friendly, rather than anxious, but it was a struggle. He was falling behind in his packing schedule.
"Um..." Vince hid his face behind his ridiculous blonde fringe while at the same time thrusting out his hand, and a small, clumsily wrapped parcel, toward Howard.
"Merry Christmas, Howard."
"But Vince," Howard screwed up his face in confusion as he took the proffered present. "It's still only November. Christmas isn't for another five weeks. You do know that, right?"
Beneath his fringe Vince had turned an attractive shade of pink. Howard could tell the younger boy was embarrassed but couldn't get over the fact that he even managed to make that attractive. Anyone else would look like a renegade tomato but not Vince, he simply looked as though he'd taken a brisk walk in a fresh breeze, his cheeks pink but not blotchy, his eyes bright and a little glassy. Howard found it hard to look away.
"I know it ain't actually Christmas yet," Vince grinned, looking up at Howard in a way that made him grin back without knowing why. "I just saw this and couldn't wait, and anyway, you're going on holidays and all, and I worried that... no, I thought that I might not get to see you in time to actually give it to you when Christmas actually gets here. I mean, what happens if you don't make it back from your holiday? What if you get eaten by wolves or bears or something?"
When Vince finally paused for breath Howard had to stop himself from chuckling. It would only make Vince grumpy and then he'd start talking again and Howard would never get a chance to say anything.
"I don't think I'll be in danger of wolves or bears, Vince. I'm going to Leeds. My auntie's got a pet rabbit but that's about the extent of the wildlife."
"Watch out for them rabbits, Howard," Vince interrupted earnestly. "They can be well nasty."
"I'll be fine, Vince. And it's not exactly a holiday, is it? My gran's sick. We're going back for a visit is all."
Howard tried to sound comforting because Vince was becoming increasingly agitated, squirming around in his spot on the bed, ruffling his hair with one hand whilst chewing on the thumb nail of the other.
"But... but... but..." Vince stuttered, his breathing beginning to quicken as his lungs heaved but couldn't draw in enough breath. Howard swooped down and pulled his friend into a firm hug, shifting until Vince was comfortably trapped in his lap and he could stroke the back of the boy's magnificent hair, knowing it was the only thing that worked in these situations.
"Vince," he cooed softly, rocking ever so slightly. "You're having a panic attack, Little Man. You need to calm down, ok?"
Vince didn't respond. His whole body shook and each breath came out as a sob. It was heartbreaking and Howard could only hold him tighter, gently pressing Vince's head to his chest so that the boy could hear his breathing and steady heart beat to help regulate his own.
"We'll be gone for two weeks, Vince. No time at all," he murmured. "I'll be back for Christmas and you can help us decorate the tree, alright?" There was a slight movement as Vince nodded his head and Howard let out a small sigh of relief. "I'm not going to leave you, Vince. Not properly. You know that. We're best mates. We'll always be together."
When Vince finally seemed to have his breathing back under control, except for the occasional hiccup, he looked up at Howard with eyes that were wide, tear filled and shockingly blue.
"Do you promise, Howard?" he whispered. Howard nodded back.
"Of course, Little Man."
"Say it."
"I promise. Now," he said, sliding Vince off his lap so that they were sitting side by side on the bed. "Can I unwrap my mysterious parcel?"
He held up the gift Vince had given him and watched in bemusement as Vince ducked behind his hair again. Since when did Vince get embarrassed?
"You probably won't like it," he mumbled.
"Of course I will," Howard countered, then narrowed his eyes dramatically. "Unless it's something to do with that Gary Numan bloke. It's not Numan related, is it, Vince? Vince?" He prodded at his mate until he giggled and pushed his hair to one side.
"Nah, no Numan. This time. I just saw it and thought of you is all. But I know you don't accessorize," he rushed on. "So you don't have to like, wear it, or nothing. It's just for having."
Howard nodded and gave Vince a reassuring smile as he began to work his way through what appeared to be a whole roll of sello tape and very little actual wrapping paper. When he finally got through it he found in his hands a little box, the sort that you might get a jewelry store, and he opened the box with just a hint of trepidation.
Inside, sitting delicately on its presentation pillow, was a small silver saxophone on a delicate chain. Engraved along the saxophone were the words, 'Best Friends Forever'. It was the sweetest gift Howard had ever been given. He wanted to say thank you, to tell Vince in eloquent and poetic words that he loved it, that it was the best present he'd ever received and that he'd cherish it forever, but there was a lump in his throat, it'd come out of nowhere, and he couldn't say a thing.
Instead he lifted it out of the box, admiring the way it caught the light, unfastened the clasp and set it round his neck. He'd never put on a necklace before and it was harder than he'd imagined but after a moment's struggle he felt Vince shift on the bed. The younger boy shuffled around and dexterously fastened the chain. How someone could be so adept when it came to fiddly jewelry and yet completely inept when it came to tape, Howard didn't know but he had it done in a moment and then shuffled back around to admire the silver saxophone against Howard's navy t-shirt.
The look on Vince's face was too much, and Howard scooped him into another tight hug. He'd never get tired of hugging Vince, he thought. Even if the other boys at school didn't hug their mates and thought that Vince and Howard were weird, Howard didn't mind. A lot of the girls thought it was cute when they hugged, which Vince proclaimed was 'genius' because it gave them an excuse to hang out with the girls, but Howard wasn't in it for the girls. He knew Vince wasn't really either. Hugging was just nice and Howard/Vince hugs seemed to be the best there were. He'd never get tired of hugging Vince.
"It says, 'Best Friends Forever'," Vince tried to tell him, though it came out muffled.
"I saw," Howard said, this time unable to stop the chuckle that escaped.
Vince pulled away and poked his tongue out but he was smiling too and Howard matched him, grin for grin.
"We'll be best friends forever, right, Howard?"
The tension was back in Vince's face, Howard could see. The insecurity that Vince usually kept well hidden but couldn't hide from his friend.
"Of course we will," Howard told him. "Best friends forever, stuck with each other for the rest of time."
Vince smiled and nodded but the tension was still there in his eyes.
"It's alright, Vince," he told him gently. "I'm only going to Leeds. I'll be back in two weeks. You won't even have time to miss me."
****
Howard sighed as the memory drifted away and another one swam into focus to replace it. They'd only been fifteen but he remembered it more clearly than most things in his life. Two weeks he'd told Vince and at the time he'd believed that to be true. No one had counted on a rabid rabbit going on a rampage. It had seemed, to a young Howard, to be a very undignified way to lose one's entire family. He'd only survived because he'd taken his boot off and thrown it at the creature's face.
It had been a nightmare, quite literally, and it was a full three month before he was allowed to go back home. His legal guardian, a friend of his parents', lived in London and Howard suddenly found himself living only two streets away from Vince, even closer than before, but it was still another week before he ventured outside and down the block to his best friend's home.
****
Vince lived in a block of flats that always made Howard shudder with foreboding when he had to go inside it. Vince had a foster family, technically, but Howard suspected they were only in it for the pay cheque. He'd been friends with Vince for eight years but had never actually met them. The flats were filthy and there were always people outside drinking from bottles hidden in brown paper bags and smoking cigarettes that didn't smell like normal cigarettes.
As Howard rounded the corner he could see them, in their rough jackets and ripped jeans, but he also spied someone else. Sitting on the low front wall, knees tucked up to his chin, wearing black jeans and a yellow silk shirt which looked like it couldn't possibly provide protection from the strong wind, was Vince. He looked slightly disheveled, his hair blowing about and his nail varnish chipped as he stared into the distance but he suddenly looked up, as if sensing Howard's presence. Their eyes met and Vince leapt from the wall, letting out a whoop that sent the druggies in the front yard scrambling for cover, thinking a police raid was on its way.
Howard watched as his friend ran toward him, his scuffed sneakers pounding the concrete until they collided and Vince wrapped his arms around Howard's chest.
"God, I've missed you, Howard," Vince sobbed into Howard's jacket. "I thought you weren't coming back, 'specially after I heard the news. I'm so sorry, Howard. Losing your folks is horrible, I'm so sorry. God, I missed you. I missed you. I missed you."
He was whispering the words, over and over like a mantra, like he was stuck and for a moment Howard remembered how good it felt to be hugged before a stomach turning fear gripped him and he wrenched himself out of the smaller boy's arms.
"Don't touch me!"
Vince had been caught off guard and stumbled backwards, tripping and hitting the ground with a thud. He looked up at Howard, his face a mixture of fear, confusion and need. He looked thinner since Howard had last seen him and something else seemed different too, but it took Howard a moment to place it.
"Are - are you wearing make-up?"
"What?"
Vince's voice wobbled as he climbed to his feet, brushing off his trousers and chewing on his bottom lip.
"Make-up," Howard repeated awkwardly and as Vince took two tentative steps forward Howard could clearly see that he was.
"It's just a little bit of eye-liner," Vince shrugged, peering up through a fringe that looked as though it hadn't been cut since November.
"Don't you like it?"
"No."
"Oh."
"Sorry."
Vince shook his head like it didn't matter but Howard still felt bad for being so blunt. He desperately wanted things to be the way they'd been before but something just didn't feel right. It wasn't Vince, it was him, but Howard didn't know what to do to fix it.
Vince took another step forward and placed a pale hand comfortingly on Howard's chest.
"Don't touch me!"
"Howard?" Vince drew his hand away quickly, like he'd been physically burned by the rejection.
"I'm sorry, Vince, I just... I can't... I," Howard tried to draw a breath that turned into a sob. "I just can't. I'm sorry."
Vince nodded very slowly and tucked his hands into his armpits. He was breathing fast as well, and Howard watched helplessly as his friend fought down his own panic attack.
"It's ok, Howard. I understand. Really."
They stood on the cold street, Vince trying to read Howard's face whilst Howard stared hard at the sorry building Vince called home. They'd never talked about Vince's family, what had happened to them. All Howard knew was that Vince had been found somewhere, in a forest or something the rumour went, and had been eventually handed over to social services. Howard suddenly felt bad for never asking, never trying to get to the bottom of the panic attacks. His mum had told him that Vince had 'Separation Issues' and 'Trust Issues' and all sorts of other 'Issues' and that as his friend, Howard had to help him with the attacks so that he would know that he was safe and not alone. Howard had done it, after his mum had shown him how, and together they'd made sure that strange, little Vince Noir didn't have to feel so strange all the time. His mum had fed Vince too, Howard realised and, going by the way the once tight jeans and shirt were hanging off his slim frame, Howard guessed that Vince had been missing those home cooked meals. Howard had missed them too.
"Shall we... shall we go to my house?" he asked, still not looking Vince in the eye. "I'm living with my guardian now, only two streets away."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah... You could stay for dinner if you want?"
Howard looked over in time to see a wide grin spread across Vince's bony features.
"Genius."
Letting a small smile escape to his own lips, Howard turned and they both began to walk back along the near silent street. It was only a few minutes before Howard realised that the only thing stopping the street from being entirely silent was a strange clacking noise and that said noise was the sound of Vince's teeth chattering in the cold.
"You cold, Little Man?"
Vince seemed to perk up upon hearing the old nickname but blushed when he nodded in answer to the question.
"A bit, yeah."
"Why were you outside without a coat on, anyway?" Howard asked, sounding a little too much like his mum for his comfort.
"I had a jacket, yeah," Vince explained awkwardly. "But some geezer stole it, didn't he? Thought it was a right laugh 'cos he didn't even want it. He just thought it was funny making the little 'boy-girl' cry."
He sounded so bitter that Howard wished he could hug him and make it better but he knew he just couldn't. He hadn't been able to stand people touching him, anyone touching him, since that nightmarish day. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to again, even though he ached to take Vince in his arms, to hold him and comfort him and warm him up a bit.
Instead he sighed dramatically and shrugged off his own jacket. He draped it across Vince's shoulders, chuckling at how much it seemed to swamp his younger friend. Vince laughed too, wrapping the thick material around himself and jumping up and down a bit to warm himself. With a little, 'Oh' Vince suddenly stopped jumping, his eyes drawn to Howard's chest. There, bright against his green jumper was the silver saxophone. Howard looked down at it and then up at Vince.
"Yeah," he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Vince gave him a look that seemed to hold more emotions than Howard could put words to. It was overwhelming and Howard hoped that the look he sent back carried as much of what he felt as Vince had just given him.
"Thanks, Howard," Vince whispered after a minute or so and they walked the rest of the way home in silence. It would be ok, Howard thought. Even if things were a bit broken, they'd never really be apart. He didn't ever want to be apart from Vince again.
****
"Howard?"
Howard knelt down in front of his friend, his oldest, dearest and, let's face it, his only real friend in the world. Vince was looking thin again and, Howard blinked, was he wearing the same outfit he'd worn the night Howard had left? Howard wasn't just shocked at the idea of Vince wearing the same outfit twice, but at the thought of Vince wearing the same outfit two weeks after it'd probably gone out of fashion.
Something was seriously wrong.
It had been a long time since he'd seen Vince lose control like this. He'd stopped having panic attacks in Howard's presence when they were sixteen but Howard hadn't been ignorant enough to believe that the attacks had stopped. When Vince bolted from a room and shut himself in the closest bathroom with the excuse of a sudden hair emergency, Howard wasn't fooled. Back in those days he'd sit himself down on the other side of the door and listen, guilt-stricken and morose, to the sound of Vince's strangled breathing and sobbing. Eventually though, he'd started to convince himself that the 'Hair Emergencies' were just that, just Vince being vain, just Vince being shallow. Why had he done that?
"Howard," Vince gasped as his body began to shake even more violently. "Think 'm having a... a hair 'mergency, Howard."
He tried to stand but couldn't, his body wasn't doing what it was told and for once Howard wasn't about to let him stumble off to the bathroom alone.
"No, Little Man," he whispered gently. "You're not having a hair emergency. You're having a panic attack. But it's ok. You're safe. I'm here."
Taking a deep breath Howard pulled Vince toward him and into his lap. It was a lot more awkward than in the olden days. Vince had grown, he was no longer a short little waif made up of elbows and knees with out-of-control hair, he was a man, and even if he was skinny, there was a solidness about his form now that Howard found he quite liked as he held him close to his chest. He held Vince for several long minutes, breathing deeply to keep himself calm and to try to calm down Vince, and eventually it seemed to work.
Sobs turned to hiccups and sniffs and their breathing started to synch up. God, he'd missed this.
"I've missed you," he murmured into Vince's hair, and felt the younger man's arms tighten reflexively around his waist.
"But, Howard," Vince whispered. "What are you doing, Howard?"
"What I should have been doing for the last sixteen years?"
Vince just stared. Eventually his hold loosened and he shuffled out of Howard's lap but not out of his reach.
"Sorry I'm a bitch, Howard," he said in a small voice, looking down at his knees.
"Sorry I'm an arse," Howard countered and saw a tiny smile flit across Vince's lips. "And I'm sorry I bough you a present that made you so upset," he finished, picking the small box up off the floor where it had dropped when he'd hauled the other man into his lap.
Vince watched the action before slowly reaching out and plucking the box from his hand and holding it tight to his chest.
"Wasn't the present that made me sad, Howard," he replied. "It was just..."
"What?"
Vince sighed and shook his head, searching for words to describe what he felt.
"It was just... you left... You were gone for two whole weeks and... And then you came back. But I wasn't supposed to have noticed you were gone, but... And you don't even wear it anymore... I noticed that. You stopped wearing it before we even started at college but I always hoped... And then you gave me this and..." he sighed again, shaking his head like he was trying to clear it but not succeeding. "It was just all too much, Howard."
Howard leaned forward and opened the box and Vince looked down. Sitting delicately on the little presentation pillow was a small, silver microphone on a chain. Engraved on the microphone were the words, 'Best Friends Forever'. Vince sobbed again but let Howard take it out of the box and put it on him. It took Howard a while to get the clasp fastened but Vince simply sat patient and still, holding his hair out of the way while Howard fought with the delicate silver mechanism.
When it was finally done he sat back to admire the pendant, and the man who was wearing it.
"Beautiful," he said simply and was rewarded with a delicate, pink, Vince Noir blush. He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small brown, leather pouch, catching Vince's attention with the movement.
"What's that?"
"Well," Howard said nervously. "I may have stopped wearing mine, but that doesn't mean I stopped carrying it around. Doesn't mean it stopped being special to me."
He lifted the silver saxophone out of the pouch, dangling sadly by a broken chain.
"What happened to it?"
"Well, Vince, you remember that week we spent apart before we went traveling?"
Vince scowled and nodded. Howard remembered how he'd arrived at Vince's place at the end of the week, ready to set off on their adventure only to find Vince barricaded in the bathroom, yelling that his hair wasn't ready. He'd emerged two hours later with black hair and Howard had gaped at him until Vince shoved an apple in his mouth and told him to quit staring at him like a rapist.
"Yeah, I remember. It was awful. My neighbour stole my shoes. While I was wearing them. And then the kettle broke and I couldn't have a cup of tea for three days! Things always go wrong when you're not there, Howard."
Howard leaned forward and let his hand rub up and down Vince's arm. He knew the feeling. In his opinion things always seemed to go wrong when Vince wasn't there.
"Well, I didn't actually work as a sanitation inspector during that week. And I got my job as a bin man kind of by accident."
"What d'you mean?"
"Well," Howard took a deep breath. "The chain broke on the necklace you gave me. And it was raining and I thought it had gone down the drain. I was frantic. I almost had a panic attack myself, Little Man. I spent three days searching the sewers before I gave up and asked some bin men for help looking for it. I spent three days after that hauling garbage and searching the alleyways and streets for any sign of it."
"Wow," Vince breathed, his eyes so big they looked ready to take over his whole face. "What happened?"
"Well," Howard leaned in, building the suspense. "I found it, didn't I? You muppet. I'm holding it right now, of course I found it again. Had to wrestle a fox to get it back, mind you, and that was not pretty, no sir. But Howard Moon-"
"Is a man of action!" Vince finished for him.
"That's right," Howard smiled, glad that Vince seemed more like his normal self. "But the chain was broken and I was too nervous to wear it after that. I didn't want to lose it, so I got a little pouch for it, to keep it safe."
"A little pouch for your saxophone?" Vince asked, the tip of his tongue snaking out to lick the corner of his mouth.
"That's right."
"Is that where you got the idea for the trumpet sock, then?" he asked, eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Maybe," Howard replied, grinning. "But I'm not about to give away all my secrets."
They sat in companionable silence for a while, not needing to talk, just happy to be back in each other's company after too many days apart.
"Howard?" Vince asked eventually. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course, Vince."
"Can I... Howard, can I have another hug?"
"Of course, Vince," Howard said, already moving forward to wrap his friend in a tight embrace.
How had he gone so long without this? Life would have been so much easier if he'd been able to hug Vince each day. But he hadn't been able to, everything had been too raw, too hard, too painful. And yet Vince had stayed and Howard suddenly realised just how important that was.
"Best friends forever, yeah?" Vince mumbled against his chest.
"Yeah," Howard answered, hearing his voice crack as a lump began to build in his throat.
"Howard?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks, Howard."