It was raining again. He’d been taught to expect this, but it still put a bit of a damper on his cheerfulness. He’d been in London for two weeks now, and it had rained at least every other day; maybe more often than that - he’d lost count. At first, it was a welcome change from the dryness of Los Angeles, but now it was just getting ridiculous.

Elijah found it hard to drive on the other (wrong) side of the road, but when it was raining it was even worse. Having been in LA for so long, he’d caught their illness of having no idea how to drive in any weather conditions other than sunny. This amused him, but also was a great cause of annoyance.

This morning, however, in this quietly small coffee shop, nothing could wipe the smile off his face.

The source of this overtly obvious show of emotion sauntered into the little shop two seconds later; his hair was soaked and plastered to his skull and his checkerboard shoes squelched as he walked over to the table. His jeans were stuck to his thighs and were dripping, leaving a trail of water droplets not unlike the trail of breadcrumbs that followed Hansel and Gretel. He wore a gray and black striped shirt with a black zip-up sweatshirt covering it. It wouldn’t have mattered what he was wearing, he’d still be soaked to the skin.

“Sorry I’m late,” he sighed, pulling out the chair across from Elijah and plopping into it. His British accent was clipped this morning, as if he had just received some bad news. “Bloody mess out there.”

“It’s pouring,” Elijah said, then berated himself silently for being Captain Obvious.

Charlie looked at him, his gray eyes surveying Elijah’s face curiously. “Yeah,” he said after a minute, forcing a laugh. He picked up Elijah’s coffee and took a long sip. “I found myself a job,” he announced, looking out the window at everyone running by with their umbrellas blowing in the wind.

“What about Driveshaft?” Elijah had known Charlie for a year now and he’d never once heard him speak about anything like getting a proper job and quitting the band he loved so much. At least, not since Charlie had mentioned on the night they met about wanting to get out of it.

Charlie put a wet elbow on the table and leaned his head against his palm, his fingers playing with the little bit of hair that was starting to grow past his ears. “Driveshaft is over,” he said, monotone.

“I thought things were going well,” Elijah said, tipping his head to the side and staring at Charlie in confusion. “I heard ‘You All Everybody’ on the radio the other day, and---”

Charlie interrupted him, his voice holding a mean edge Elijah wasn’t used to hearing. “It’s over,” he said, this time his voice was hard and cold. He started tapping his ring against the corner of the table, his knees bobbing up and down in time to some rhythm. His eyes were darting from Elijah, back to the window, and then to the other patrons of the shop. There weren’t many, but Charlie seemed to have something against each and every one of them. (All three.)

“Where’s the job?” Elijah asked to be polite; the last thing he wanted was for Charlie to be angry with him. They hadn’t seen each other in the last year very much, but when they did things always seemed forced and strange. On more than one occasion, Charlie had snapped at Elijah for no reason the younger man could fathom.

He glanced back at Elijah, his fingers playing with his hair again; Elijah noticed they were shaking, and he wondered why.

“I’ll be selling copiers,” Charlie responded, smiling tensely and then avoiding Elijah’s gaze again. “Lucy set me up with it. I start on Monday.”

“That’s brilliant,” Elijah said carefully, watching Charlie nervously. “Are you okay, Charlie?”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly, then laughed an obviously forced laugh. “I’m always fine, yeah?”

Elijah’s lips curled into a small smile. “Yeah.”

They were both silent for several moments, both lost in his own thoughts.

Finally, Elijah couldn’t take it anymore. “We should celebrate,” he announced cheerfully.

Charlie glanced at him, his finger beginning to tap against the table edge again. “Celebrate? Yeah, we bloody well should.”

*

The pub was crowded and noisy. It was also remarkably dark and filled with girls in leather pants. Elijah cast a cursory glance at everyone, making mental notes on who to stay away from. After getting two beers, he made his way to a table Charlie had secured. He plunked himself down and handed a beer to Charlie.

“To…having money,” Charlie announced, laughing oddly and clinking his bottle to Elijah’s.

“May you use it wisely,” Elijah said, watching closely as Charlie downed most of the beer without taking a breather. Elijah set his bottle down slowly and gazed at Charlie across the table. The older man was glancing around as if looking for something, or someone.

He wasn’t the Charlie Elijah remembered. This Charlie was darker, more cynical. He was no longer the fun-loving bass player of a hit rock band. Elijah missed that Charlie, and felt the loss of him deep in his gut. It seemed Charlie couldn’t sit still these days. He couldn’t focus and he seemed edgy.

“Charlie.” Elijah’s voice was low and there was a deliberate harsh tone overshadowing the playful one.

Charlie glanced at him, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah, mate?”

Elijah blinked, stalling for time. “Charlie, you’re acting weird. Are you sure you’re okay?”

He wiped at his eyes again, then curled his hands around his bottle; Elijah could hear the ring clinking against the glass just slightly and knew Charlie’s hands were shaking again.

“You’re not acting like yourself,” Elijah continued cautiously, watching Charlie’s response to this closely.

“You don’t know me,” Charlie stated evenly, lifting his head up and glaring at Elijah.

“Yes, I do.” He wasn’t about to let this drop. Normally he would, but he hated the thought of Charlie drifting off and not coming back. He couldn’t lose him. Even though he didn’t know him that well, and hadn’t spent that much time with him, he knew Charlie was something special. And Elijah would do everything in his power to make Charlie realize that. “You’re fucking Charlie Pace from Driveshaft.”

A ghost of the smile Charlie once had flitted across his taught features, then was gone.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Elijah instructed, leaning forward and lowering his voice.

Charlie started jiggling his legs again. “Liam quit the band,” he said tersely, his eyes downcast again. “Driveshaft…there is no more Driveshaft. I’ve told you that, Elijah.”

Elijah nodded slowly. “Something else is wrong.”

“Nothing else is bloody wrong, okay?” Charlie’s words were delivered with such a hard edge that Elijah sat back feeling wounded and hurt. “I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, his voice softer. “I’m not doing very well.”

“I can see that,” Elijah remarked, reaching across the table and gently taking Charlie’s hand in his. “Tell me, Charlie. I’m your friend.”

Charlie laughed vacantly and pulled his hand away, wrapping it around his bottle again and staring into it like it held the most important thing in the world in its glass casing. “I’m in trouble, Lij.”

Elijah leaned forward; he was having a hard time hearing him due to all the chattering going on around them. “What kind of trouble?” He swallowed, hoping it wasn’t something that was easily fixed.

Charlie lifted his head again, his eyes lifeless. “I’m having withdrawals. I’m up to my arse in debt. My bloody brother has abandoned me after getting me into this bloody mess in the first place. The tosser. All the royalties from our one hit song are gone. Snorted away.” His voice was quiet, but filled with malice and anger at himself. And his brother. And the world at large.

No one said anything for quite sometime; they simply sat there, staring at one another. Elijah was breathing heavily, trying to figure out an easy solution while Charlie sat across from him, looking like death.

“Let’s go back to my apartment,” Elijah said decisively, standing up and pushing his chair out.

In the car, the silence was deafening. Charlie was leaning his head against the cool window, watching the world pass by in shades of gray, mixed with vibrant pinks and blues. Sharp images of his past were blurring his vision, and he had to swallow back the bile that was threatening to pour out of his mouth. He closed his eyes, his head pounding. He had never wanted to die so much in his life.

Elijah’s mind was blank. Blissfully blank. He drove as if in a state of blind ignorance and parked outside his building before heading inside, expecting Charlie to follow him.

“I have some pills if you want,” Elijah stated quietly, unlocking his door.

“What kind of pills?” Charlie asked, perking up.

Elijah looked at him, his heart constricting painfully. “Advil.” He pushed the door open and motioned for Charlie to go in ahead of him.

Charlie shuffled into the living room and collapsed onto the couch. He leaned his head back and sighed heavily, rubbing his fingers against his temples. Elijah quietly filled a glass with water and pulled a bottle of Advil from his medicine cabinet before entering the living room and sitting beside his friend as gently as possible.

“Here,” he said, a lump forming in his throat.

Charlie took the glass and the pills and shoved them in his mouth; he chugged the water down with deliberation and then dropped his head back against some pillows. His eyes closed again and Elijah watched him, his chest rising and falling slowly.

He wanted desperately for this to be a dream. He wanted to wake up right then and find that it was all made-up. Elijah was never one to believe in fairytales, but he bargained with God that if He could take Charlie’s pain away, he’d start believing in miracles straight away.

Elijah hated seeing him like this. Helpless and lost and livid with the world for all the trouble he’d brought onto himself. His hands fisted and he wanted to tear at Liam for causing this in the first place, but knew it would do no good.

“Charlie?” Elijah asked quietly after an hour had passed. “Are you awake?”

His breathing was slow and peaceful, like he was in a dreamless sleep. Elijah felt that was the best thing for now, just to let him sleep in a safe place where he didn’t have to worry about paying his debts or finding his next fix. Charlie would wake up and nothing would have changed, but for now he would be okay.

Elijah sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and then slowly opening them. He pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and carefully covered Charlie’s sleeping form. They’d figure something out in the morning. Elijah was determined to fix this, to fix Charlie’s messed up life. It was the least he could do, when Charlie had given Elijah everything he never knew he’d wanted.

He watched him sleeping for a few more minutes and then stood up; before going into his room, he turned around and whispered into the darkness. “I love you, Charlie.”

Things always looked better in the morning.