Disclaimer:: I own nothing but my own imagination

So sorry that this took so appallingly long! But I'm back! On with the show!

Heartstrings: 2 Life and Death.

By the time the strange pair reached the lonely hut that Howard lived in, the heartless man was barely managing to hold himself upright anymore.

Howard could do nothing to help however, as the struggling figure had also regressed further into slight transparency, making it impossible for Howard to touch him, even if he had been trying. The experience had been creepy enough the first time.

The strange creature was apparently disturbingly familiar with Howard's hut, and collapsed onto the sofa, barely making the drop without falling off again, but at least he didn't pass through it.

Howard peered over at the man cautiously, still unsure about the whole thing. Was this heartless creature really the dead embodiment of the donor of his own heart? It seemed impossible to consider, and yet, the man had no heartbeat.

And his own heart seemed to act in the strangest ways when close or far from the man. The unpleasant tugging was enough to get Howard thinking that he might believe him.

But why was there an effect at all? It was his heart now surely? His blood pumped through it, and why was this man not dead? Was he just playing a game until Howard fell asleep, and then he would tear out Howard's heart to take it back?

Howard risked another glance at the disturbingly faint looking figure, it was as if he was appearing from behind a veil to another place. He couldn't be acting those symptoms surely?

The heartless creature was shaking and his breathing sounded laboured and pathetic.

Quite suddenly, Howard wanted nothing more to do with this strange, abnormal man. Naboo could deal with it, make it move on to the next life or whatever it needed. The heart that beat painfully in his chest at the thought was now his, he'd fought for this heart, and he wasn't about to endanger his life now that he'd finally got it back.

The dead should leave the living alone.

Without a word to the fragile looking figure, Howard turned and headed to his room, locking the door soundly behind him.

But his night was anything but restful.

Some minor palpitations kept him awake and panicky, his heartstrings seemed to either be trying to get away or trying to drag him somewhere. His heart ached sadly, making him feel inexplicably morose and depressed, as if he badly needed to be somewhere, and was highly aware that he wasn't there.

It was early when he woke from his fluctuating sleep, but he could bear it no longer. The weird heartless man must have done something to him. He needed to get rid of him, now.

Creeping into the living room, Howard glanced at the abnormal figure on his couch, and for a moment thought that it had died. Again.

It was barely moving except for a few feeble intakes of breath, and it was a highly unhealthy shade of see-through.

The jazz-maverick swiftly turned from the uncomfortable sight, and his heart seemed to cry with the action. Soon he was outside and heading towards Naboo's kiosk as fast as he could.

::Heartstrings::

It had taken some time to rouse the diminutive shaman from a no doubt drug-induced sleep, and even longer for Howard to be able to form his story into words.

For once the shaman didn't interrupt him, but there was a strange light in his eyes that Howard was faintly suspicious of.

"You're sure he said you had his heart?" Naboo asked eagerly at the end of his tale. "And that when he gets too far away, he starts dying again?"

Howard nodded impatiently, he didn't really like talking about the strange occurrence, he just wanted to live normally.

"You've got a Wandering Heart!" Naboo exclaimed in excitement. "Where is he? Can I meet him?"

Howard gaped at the shaman's delighted face.

"You know what it is? It's not lying?"

"Firstly it's a 'he' not an it, and yes I know what he is, every shaman would. They're pretty rare."

Howard blinked in incredulity, how could this be real? But in light of the evidence, he'd have to accept it, he supposed.

"Well, what is he then?" Howard snapped impatiently.

"They're quit recent creatures, although some were supposedly around when people were cannibals, and would eat each other's hearts. But its only become well known because of heart transplants, otherwise they'd be your everyday ghosts."

"Yes but what is it? And why is it haunting me?" Naboo sighed with exasperation.

"He's not haunting you, he's attached to you, or rather his heart inside you. That's why if you or he gets too far away he starts dying again, because a Wandering Heart can only exist around the body that its heart was placed in, it's the only thing keeping it bound to this world. One of them can only come into existence when someone has fought to stay alive, fought to keep their heart beating against all odds. They can't let go, so they get trapped."

Howard's mind tumbled over the shaman's words, struggling to take it in. However, he had hit upon a glimmer of hope among the surrealism.

"But then we can get rid of it! All I have to do is go for a nice long walk and he'll have moved on by the time I get back! Everyone wins!" Even as he spoke, he saw with a sinking feeling that Naboo was shaking his head.

"They don't move on Howard. As long as you've got his heart he can't."

"But you said that he'd die if he was apart from me for too long!"

"I said that he would start dying again, but they don't move on, once they've relived their death, they become trapped to the place where their body is, vengeful and in pain for eternity, until someone forces them into another dimension."

"So! That will work too! We just let him die, he goes to a coffin somewhere-"

"You'd really do that to someone! Force them to relive their own death and then trap them in misery for eternity?! They may be dead in a sense already, but they still have feelings, and feel pain, could you really condemn someone to that?" Naboo's outrage hit him forcefully.

"But otherwise he'll steal my heart! Its mine now! He can't have it back! He's already had it once, why should I loose my life willingly for his when he can't let go and let me have my life!"

"You ever heard of living on borrowed time Howard? But anyway he wont take your heart, like you said its yours now, or at least inside you, and he's dead, he has no use for a heart, it wouldn't bring him back to life, he's probably worked that out by now."

Howard in a flash remembered sterilised white and screaming, a painful tugging sensation. Had that been the Wandering Heart trying to take back what he'd lost?

"You'd just have to exist together, he can live by your side and remain perfectly healthy, and you won't be affected by his presence. As you accept the Wandering Heart more, the further you two can be apart for longer. At least you would be able to lead a normal life, even if his was only a half-life."

Howard listened with a sinking feeling, he didn't want to be burdened with his new heart's baggage.

"And when and however you die, then he can finally move on too. It all works out quite nicely." Naboo smiled faintly, as though pleased at the outcome. Howard however, wasn't.

"I wont do it." Naboo's eyes flashed to his in shock.

"I've finally after god knows how many years got my life back! I'm not going to let some cling on temperamental Wandering Heart clog it up because they can't let go! It's my heart now, and my life! I'm not sharing it with some random ghost!"

Naboo's eyes grew saddened and disappointed.

"Howard, even if you did really decide to let him die again-"

"I have decided, there's nothing you can do to stop me, he's so weak at the moment I'd probably only have to move into a different room to let him die-"

"-There's no guarantee that you'd even survive." Naboo cut in doggedly. "You may not feel physical pain, but your heart gets to choose in the end, I'd guess by how strongly you described it reacting that its tied very strongly to your Wandering Heart. If you let him start dying, then it might choose to go with him over staying with you and give out."

This put a slight halt on Howard's plans. But if he lived in fear for the rest of his life, bound to take care of some lost soul just so that he didn't die himself, worried about someone whose life was already over, then what life would be left for him?

He wanted to settle down one day, have a family, maybe even with Gideon. How could he do that if hanging around on the other side of the door was that unnaturally thin, androgynous, raven haired Wandering Heart that tugged on his heartstrings for reasons he couldn't even begin to understand?

No, he'd put a stop to it now. Naboo could then send the Wandering Heart into another dimension where he'd find more peace then he ever would with a life revolving around Howard's bustling at the zoo, and when he died after a long and happy life free from baggage except that he chose to take on, then they'd both be at peace.

He said as much to Naboo, who had a look of unwilling and saddened resignation, but the shaman knew that there was nothing he could do to stop it anyway. He explained that this problem worked two ways, and that that was how Howard's absence could kill the Wandering Heart, but wasn't necessary.

For as long as Howard didn't accept the Wandering Heart, he would never recover from the distance separation. He would relive his death and fade to where his body was with Howard just out of sight and unwilling to help in the room next door.

::Heartstrings::

Even though the small shaman was going to be watching over the death of the Wandering Heart, he still appeared excited, if in a muted way, to meet him.

Upon inspection of the fading figure on the sofa however, the shaman emitted a small cry and hurried over.

Howard walked slowly along the edge of the room, he couldn't really see the strange man that was attached to him, but he could see flashes of faint limbs as he convulsed.

Naboo was kneeling beside the couch, he seemed to be murmuring softly to the figure, as if comforting it.

The man let out a pained whimper, and Howard decided he didn't want to watch this. He'd made peace with his decision, but he couldn't watch someone die, knowing he was causing it.

"Isn't there something you can do? To shut him up or anything?" Howard pleaded almost desperately, as the man moaned in agony.

"I mean. We don't have to hear him die do we? Why is he so loud?" Naboo glanced round at Howard's panicked voice. The shaman's eyes were hard and lacked sympathy for him, one of his hands was holding the Wandering Heart's.

"Its the least we can do don't you think, besides, he is reliving his death. And unless you've changed your mind, there's no way to alleviate the pain."

"The pain! Why is he in so much of it?" 'Why can't he just die quietly?' Howard thought darkly as the figure convulsed just out of sight.

"Howard, do you know why they can't let go? I said they fought to stay alive, against all odds, where others wouldn't, do you think any ordinary death is like that?" Howard took a step back at Naboo's rage, the shaman's eyes were on fire, but Howard couldn't entirely see why, or maybe just didn't want to.

"Wandering Hearts are so rare, because most other people would welcome death at their stage. They have to have died in fear, died a horrific death and begged their heart to just keep beating, just a little longer. That's why they cling on so hard, why they can't let go, because they suffered so much to keep living, against all odds, through so much horror and agony, fought so hard to keep living, that in a sense they do. That's why they become vengeful spirits, because they're forced to live through this again, but this time, they can't die, and they've got nothing concrete to hang onto, until eventually they just can't take it anymore."

Howard looked from Naboo to the couch, frozen momentarily in fear, or pain, or empathy, or something else he couldn't name. To have died in fear, in pain, and have to relive it…Howard couldn't, wouldn't imagine it, he didn't want to see it, couldn't stand to hear it, and know it was because of him.

With one swift movement he turned and fled the room, chased out by a terrible scream from his dying Wandering Heart.

::Heartstrings::

Howard sat on his bed, head held in his hands as he stared at the floor in a stupor, covering his ears to try and block out the terrible screams from the other room.

He couldn't tell if they were screams of terror or pain, but he suspected they were probably both.

'What am I doing? How can I do this to someone?' Howard tried to convince himself that this was self-preservation, that he had to. But did he really? Could he really listen to someone dying and do nothing to stop it?

His borrowed heart was pounding at a speed entirely unnecessary for someone who was sitting down. At each gut wrenching cry his heartstrings tugged so hard Howard was sure they were going to tear right out and run back to their original owner.

But this person was already dead, he had no chance of a normal life, what would be the point of trying to help him?

Howard blinked at the thought as it struck him. Had he been any different? He would never have been able to have a normal life, his heart would have given out soon; without the transplant, he'd be dead. But someone had saved his life, however unwilling, given him a second chance.

He jerked upright at another scream from next door. Not unwilling, he reminded himself. Maybe it was only when he had no choice left, no hope of having his own heart, but that man, Vince, had bestowed some sort of blessing on him in that hospital.

'Touched by an angel' the doctor had said, but that was untrue, Howard had been touched by someone's sacrifice and generosity. To pass on your own heart, let someone live instead of die, even though it would mean being bound to them for however long.

His Wandering Heart had gone through the exact same decision, even though he knew that his chance for life was over, he'd been willing to pass on his heart, to save Howard's life.

Who was he, Howard, to refuse to help his saviour, sacrifice a lot less, just some personal space, just because he was finally getting a new shot at life.

If this was his new life, was this really how he wanted to start it? Selfishly, blocking people out that caused the smallest hindrance, not letting people in…that was his old life.

If some stranger had deemed him worthy of a second chance at life, then who was he to deny the same?

A terror gripped scream seared into his heart, and Howard remembered a warm touch on his heart, one that soothed the pain, calmed the beating, and granted him life. A strange fierceness roared up inside him, he wasn't letting anything hurt his heart. If it was worth facing fear and pain to keep beating, then he'd damn well protect it, and the one that saved him with it. Howard Moon would save the life that saved him, then he'd finally be starting to do good with his life.

With a burst of speed that finally matched his frantically pulsing heart, Howard sprinted back into the main room.

Naboo leapt up in shock as the door slammed against the wall, Howard pushed past him and kneeled by the couch.

The shaman had covered the trembling and crying heart with a blanket, so that only his face was visible. Well, 'visible' wasn't really the phrase. The man was nearly transparent, Howard could barely make out the streak of crimson blood that was flowing from a gash on the heart's forehead, the hint of eyes screwed shut in pain.

But Howard was at a loss of how to help, even as his heart seemed to scream at him to do something.

"Common talk to me! How do I help you?" Howard pleaded desperately, but the figure merely struggled to draw in oxygen with a weak cry.

The heart in his chest beat painfully, urgently as he scanned the blanket-covered creature, Naboo stood back, seemingly at as much of a loss as he was. Howard's brain seemed to be in hyper drive, but finding no answers, and the figure appeared to be fading before his eyes.

He let loose a cry of frustration, and those familiar heartstrings tugged desperately 'a warm touch over his heart'.

"That's it!" Howard cried in inspiration, and reached a hand out, placing it over the area where his Wandering Heart's heart had been.

The effect was almost instantaneous. The laboured breathing shuddered and quietened, the body became fully visible without the gash on the head, the tremors and convulsions stopped. A look of relaxed sleep passed over the raven-haired man as Howard's heart finally slowed down.

In the sudden aftermath, the body appeared almost too still.

"Is he-!"

"No, he's ok, look, you can see him breathing." Howard looked, and the thin chest was indeed rising and falling satisfyingly under his hand.

Naboo sunk into a spare chair, rubbing his forehead below his turban. Howard let loose a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

The serene looking face looked entirely innocent and care free in sleep, black fringe falling just over the heart's closed eyes.

Strange warmth flared through him at the sight, although he couldn't quite explain it, but his heart was calmed.

Slowly, he lowered his head to the fragile and heartless chest in relief. This heart was his, but so was its previous owner.

The strange colourful creature that had turned up on his sofa now suddenly seemed his responsibility. Howard had the ability to damage him beyond repair, but heal him within seconds.

This was something that was his, his to look after, a fragile half-life that he couldn't help but feel was inextricably linked to his. A chance to do something good this time, something noble and unselfish, a change to life a different existence.

That new life that he'd always hoped a new heart would give him was suddenly laid out before him, glittering in its wonders.

"Never again. You'll never hurt like that again." Howard found himself promising the seeping creature in a whisper. He smiled at the strangeness of it all, but for some reason, also felt strangely at peace.

And he couldn't remember the last time he had felt that, but it seemed a distant time and place, and he couldn't be more thankful to have it back. He wasn't going to let that feeling go anytime soon. Being so relaxed made him realise how tense he had been for the past few years of his life.

He would protect this life that saved his, because it suddenly seemed the only important thing in the world, and in his life at this moment, it probably was.

::Omg this was properly begun months ago, sorry! But I only just got re-inspired! Hope you enjoyed it, and if you did, please review!

::Thanks for reading, shadowtheo.