A/N – BelleVie, I got told that our stories were v. similar in a review so I read it and realised they actually were. so this is dedicated to you, in the hope you won't think i ripped you off. And in the prayer that you won't kill me.

In case you couldn't figure it out italics is past and normal font is present. And I know you shouldn't start a sentence with "And…" but I have several times in this fic. And probably will continue to do so forever and always. Amen.

Disclaimer: If it was mine, the "Party" kiss wouldn't have stopped there! Courtney Love isn't mine either.

And, by the way, I'm an angst addict!

And I think T is a suitable rating but if you think it should be upped, tell me and I'll do it.

The flat had been empty since Vince overdosed. Naboo and Bollo had been too devastated to stay. They went back to Xooberon. Howard tried to find another place to live. But he couldn't leave the place once filled with so much happiness and laughter.

Vince's happiness.
Vince's laughter.

Vince was going out to impress. He was aiming to meet, maybe shag someone famous. Preferably Courtney fucking Love. As it so happened, they did meet.
And shagged.
And injected.
And slipped into individual comas.

Howard picked up the bread knife from the kitchen counter.
He placed it to his arm.
And slit.
12 carefully planned lines. He grabbed a tea-towel and wiped away the blood. The word he had carved into his arm perfectly visible.
Vince.

Howard always said that self-harming only proved that you had no pride.
No pride.
Pride. The thing Howard had none of anymore.
No pride.

It was 3:30 am when Howard got the call. From the police. Saying Courtney Love and Vince Noir had been found on the floor of her London apartment. They were currently in hospital in deep comas.
The hospital found numerous drugs in their system, including:
Ecstasy;
Cannabis;
Crack Cocaine;
and Heroin.

Howard wrote a note.

Dear, Whoever finds me.

I see no reason to go on anymore.
My best friend has got a 10 pecent chance of waking up from his coma.
My other friends aren't here anymore.
My Best friend. The only person I have ever cared about.
The only person I have ever loved.
Vince Noir.
Please cremate my body and put my ashes in the urn on the mantel piece.
Vince always told me he wanted to be cremated when he died.
When he does, mix his ashes with mine and lay us to rest.
Together.

Howard Moon.

He put it on the coffee table in front of the sofa.
He sat down on the floor, his back resting against the coffee table and brought the knife to his throat.
And slit.

Meanwhile in hospital, two machines declaring brain activity and heart beat started increasing in noise. The sure sign that two people were waking up from their individual comas.

One was Courtney Love.

But the other wasn't Vince.