Chapter 2
note: this takes place after last chapter! it's the next day 8) IS IT A DREAM? IS IT REAL LIFE? is it BOTH?
oOo
The trip back to his Winnebago proves to be a difficult one as he feigns nonchalance and passiveness. He forces a smile, forces apathy as he ignores the frown 2D sends his way.
A step up, a step forward and a step down. He reaches blindly to the side, through his cupboards and cabinets, pulling bottle after bottle to his chest in preparation for his binge.
He tips his head back and drinks, swallowing greedily in an attempt to wash away the morose and repentant feeling settling in his chest.
Murdoc Niccals doesn't feel guilt.
His heart, blackened and hardened over years of neglect and abuse, is too twisted and mangled to understand such a feeling.
Or so he tells himself. He keeps telling himself that his head is wrong, that his regretful heart is lying to him.
He trips over himself, falling onto his bed in a mass of bottles and limbs and he groans in frustration. The weight of his ribs pressing against smooth glass is painful, almost too much for even him to handle and he removes himself from the pile.
Murdoc Niccals doesn't feel guilt.
However, what does feel, right now, is nothing short of unpleasant. He rolls onto his back, props himself on his elbows and allows himself to fall apart. One hand gripping the neck of a bottle and the other gripping at his hair, all he can see is 2D's disapproving frown.
He takes a deep swig off of his bottle of rum, the burning sensation of alcohol stinging his nose and throat and he wipes his mouth sloppily.
The night is still young. There's still time for him to drown and wallow in self-pity.
And time, strange as it is, shifts at strange and sluggish pace. It morphs his perception into something almost malleable, tricking him, making him feel as if he's still fully there. His vision is blurry and unfocused, clouded with a drunken veil and he can almost feel his eyes crossing. They drift lazily, moving across the room and everything in his line of vision has a double.
Even the blue-haired figure standing in his doorway. However, when he blinks, it doesn't disappear.
"Muds?" the figure asks, voice laced with concern and hesitance and they remain stationed just outside of Murdoc's room. His grip on his hair loosens and he feels his shoulders relax at the gentle tone, coaxing him into a more placid state. He blinks blearily at them, trying his best to clear his vision and the figure comes into focus a bit more.
"Mm?" he asks, rubbing his face and he takes note of the stubble beginning to grow there. "Who're...what're ya doin in here?"
The figure looms closer now, entering the room completely. The closeness of the figure fixes Murdoc's lack of focus, and he's suddenly able to recognize his visitor.
"Hey, Muds." 2D smiles nervously, seeming to take note of just how smashed Murdoc is. He pauses, grin faltering. "...It's 2D."
And now Murdoc is smiling.
"Ahhh, yes, yes!" he croons, face brightening. "My li'l song bird."
2D's smile flickers a bit, eyebrows quirking at the other's possessive tone. He purses his lips, shoulders shrugging in acceptance.
"..Sure, Muds. Whatever you say."
Murdoc snorts, shaking his head and he adjusts his position on the bed in order to make room for the singer. Patting the spot next to him, he gazes up at the other expectantly and he notices 2D's critical glance. He narrows his eyes and taps his fingers irritably, his patience wearing thin.
"Sit." the bassist commands sharply, watching as the singer quickly obeys. "You did'n answer my question."
His words slur together drunkenly and he leans his face closer to 2D's. The singer's black eyes cross at the close proximity and he leans back a bit, breathing deeply through his nose.
"What question?"
Murdoc growls in frustration and he runs his shaky fingers through his hair
"What're ya doin' in here?" he asks again, eyes narrowing dangerously and he almost wants to lean in closer when he sees the singer lean away. "I din' ask ya t'come in. Don' tell me you're already lookin' for my company after what happened earlier."
2D grins.
"Well... we're best mates, yeah? All's good, in my book."
Murdoc's hostile expression falters and he's left blank faced.
"O'course."
It's silent for a moment before 2D lets out a heavy sigh. Murdoc doesn't notice his surroundings beginning to fade or his hazy tunnel vision beginning to take over.
"An'..." the singer continues breathily, his voice a mere whisper, "I wanted to...see you."
Murdoc's heart nearly skips a beat and he chokes on his spit, coughing and spluttering in shock. 2D notices this and looks at him worriedly, attempting to assist him. Murdoc waves him off, gasping for air.
"Y-yeah?" he asks, and he's mortified at his inability to form a coherent sentence.
He tries again.
"Why?"
Blackness then consumes his vision. He blinks once, and suddenly his vision is clear, almost startlingly so and he almost has to pinch himself to see if he's still awake. A pale hand comes to rest on his face, a thumb caresses his stubbled jaw and he swallows hard. Obsidian eyes stare into his own, shining brightly and there's just the faintest hint of mischief.
He doesn't know who is leaning towards who, but the next thing he knows is that there's a pair of lips pressing against his own and his heart is beating fast. They break apart for a moment, both panting heavily.
He knows that he should be angry but when he looks into 2D's eyes he can't find it in himself to feel that way. Without giving it a second thought he surges at the singer, flings his arms around his neck and shoulders and he kisses him fervently. Teeth bite at his lips to the point of bleeding and he moans in the back of his throat, fisting 2D's shirt tightly in his hands.
Lips latch onto his neck, pepper his face, press against his closed eyes and when he opens them 2D's gone.
Murdoc is still panting and although the sensation on his lips is gone he still feels the warmth in his groin.
Confusion soon turns into realization, and his eyes widen in shock.
"FUCK." he yelps, slamming his fist against his headboard in a fit of rage.
He does it again for good measure.
Gripping his hair tightly in one hand and grasping an empty bottle of rum in the other, Murdoc grits his teeth. He glances at his clock on the floor, unable to really see what time it is but he knows that it's morning. He reaches for a cigarette, sticks it in his mouth and lights it.
Inhale...
...Exhale.
"Shit."
It's happening again.
oOo
((routine))
It's not any warmer. The bitter air rattles his bones and he can almost see his breath as it comes out of his aching lungs.
Wrapping a scarf tightly around his neck, he trudges to his closet and rummages around until he finally fishes out his ratty old winter coat. It's been eaten by moths and it's nearly falling apart at the seams but it's comfortable enough.
Or at least, that's what he tells himself.
Sighing, he steps out of his Winnebago and heads in the general direction of Kong in search of more alcohol. He pauses mid-step, noticing 2D leaning against a wall in the distance with a cigarette hanging loosely between his lips. Narrowing his eyes, he continues walking and he waits for 2D's attention to drift.
It doesn't take long.
As to be expected, a bright smile stretches across the singer's face and Murdoc goes on the assumption that yesterday's strain is forgotten.
"Hey, Muds!" he calls over, waving enthusiastically as he pushes himself away from the wall. He walks briskly over to the bassist with a grin plastered to his face, taking the cigarette out of his mouth in offering. Murdoc pinches it out of the other's hands and takes a deep drag off of it, ignoring the impulse to say something stupid.
"Face ache." he grunts in reply, handing the cigarette back to the taller man with a look of confusion. He notices 2D's eyes glance over him and he almost feels self-conscious about his over-dressed appearance.
"...Why're you wearing all those layers?"
Murdoc rolls his eyes at the question.
"Why do bitches bark?" he asks in return, only to receive a blank stare. He snorts. "Never mind."
After the short exchange, both men wordlessly continue their journey towards the main building. 2D stops for a moment to put out the butt of his cigarette, crushing it clumsily under his shoe. The bassist takes this as his chance to look the singer over and he notices that the taller man is only dressed in night pants and a thin t-shirt.
"How in the name of Satan are you not freezing your bollocks off?"
2D merely offers a shrug as they make their way to the entrance of the building.
"S'really not as cold as y'think it is."
"Of course it is." Murdoc retorts. "You're just too bloody stupid to notice."
2D looks like he wants to argue but he thinks better of it when he takes in Murdoc's expression.
They continue walking through the long expansive halls in silence until they find Russell and Noodle huddled together in the living room, image almost completely reminiscent to yesterday.
"Hi, Russ." 2D greets brightly, perching himself on the arm of the couch. He turns to face the television, surrendering his attention fully to the set and the light in his eyes starts to fade.
"Hey." the drummer drones in reply, keeping his eyes trained on the television screen. Noodle hums in acknowledgement and the room falls still, peaceful for the time being. Murdoc rolls his eyes at the pleasantries and seats himself in his chair, glancing at the TV in disinterest.
He never did understand the concept of morning cartoons.
"What in the name of Satan's asshole are--?"
"-Don't be usin' that sorta language around my baby girl." Russell barks, snarling, attention completely ripped away from the TV. Murdoc rolls his eyes and picks at his fingernails.
"Russ, she can't understand most of what we say. S'not gonna make any difference."
"Don't talk about her like she ain't here." the drummer snaps. "And her English is improvin' by the day. So watch yer mouth. And don't start thinkin' that you're off the hook for yesterday, either, because you're still on my list."
The bassist's smirk falls and his expression turns dark, mirth gone.
"Don't start talkin' all big, fat arse." he hisses, adjusting his lax position in his chair. "This is my fucking band, and I'll talk however I wanna fucking talk. Y'ain't my damn mother and you don't sign my pacheck, so I don't wanna hearshit."
Russell readies himself to lunge at the smaller man but Noodle and 2D intervene before he can do anything.
"Russ, just ignore him." 2D whispers, soft but not quiet enough to go unnoticed by Murdoc.
"Oi, you got something to contribute to this riveting debate, dent-face?" he snaps, smirking when 2D flinches. "Fire away, I'd love to hear it."
The drummer scowls, positioning himself in front of the singer as if he were shielding him from the verbal lashing. "Leave the boy alone, Murdoc- he's just tryin' t'save your sorry ass."
Murdoc snorts, hardened grin turning nasty on his face.
"Look who's using bad language now." he taunts, and this time Russell does lunge at him. Murdoc blanches and leaps out of his chair, trying to distance himself from certain death. He darts across the room, narrowly escaping Russell's reach and lets out a terrified squawk.
"Don't you dare start runnin' you cracker-ass motherfu-"
"Russ, no!" 2D shouts, covering Noodle's ears fearfully. "She might start repeatin' it! Don't!"
Russell freezes, taking note of Noodle's confused smile and wordless gaze. He sighs in exasperation, ceasing his chase with a resigned nod. Meanwhile, Murdoc pretends that he wasn't just scared for his life.
The singer removes his hands from the guitarist's ears and she scratches her head in a silent question.
"Why do you yell?" she asks, eyes searching for an impossible answer. "Why?"
Russell shakes his head, sighing, and takes her hand.
"Nothing, baby doll. Let's jus' get you ready for the day, alright? Go on to your room and I'll be with ya in a few."
Noodle's eyes alight with joy at his words and she offers him an excited smile, sprinting away to her room. Her laughter can be heard even when she's out of sight, traveling up the stairs, moving at lightening speed.
When the guitarist is out of hearing range, the singer decides to speak.
"...You two goin' somewhere?" he asks, smiling at the other hesitantly.
Russell nods.
"Noodle wants to go out and see the snow or somethin'." he explains, rubbing the back of his head in thought. "Not entirely sure, though."
Murdoc scoffs.
"Well what bloody good does that do, moron?" he asks, laughing bitterly. "She can see the fucking snow through the windows. Why bother going out?"
Russell grits his teeth and sends Murdoc an unimpressed look, clenching his fists in irritation.
"Kong is fuckin' disgustin', Murdoc. I don't want her first experience with snow to be tainted with nasty dead things."
Murdoc rolls his eyes and grumbles something undeniably rude under his breath, face pulling into an unattractive sneer. Russell ignores him and turns his attention back to 2D.
"'D, ya wanna come with us?"
The singer looks like he wants to comply, he really does, but when he looks over at the bassist he shakes his head regretfully.
"Sorry, Russ- I don' really feel like roamin' today."
The large man shrugs, indifferent.
"Alright, man. Some other time, then."
With that, he claps a hand to 2D's shoulder in farewell and sends one last scathing glare in Murdoc's direction.
"Later, guys.
It's silent for a moment after Russell leaves and Murdoc punches 2D's arm, intent playful but execution painful.
"That escalated mighty fast, wouldn't ya say, mate?"
When the singer fails to laugh at his joke, the bassist feels his expression fall. His heart sinks low in his chest and he grits his teeth.
"What's your sodding problem, dent face?"
2D jumps at Murdoc's harsh tone, shielding his face with his arms protectively. "N-nothin', Muds! It's jus'-"
"-'Just' what, dullard?"
2D clamps mouth shut and bites his tongue to keep himself from speaking out of turn. When Murdoc doesn't say or do anything else, he continues.
"...S'jus' that you really shouldn' be sayin' swear words in front of Noodle, Muds. She's just a li'l kid, y'know. She don't understand what they mean, but she's like a parrot."
Murdoc rolls his eyes at the comparison, expression that of a man who's on the verge of committing mass homicide.
Maybe he is.
"A parrot." he intones dryly.
The singer purses his lips in thought, opting to clarify. "I mean she repeats stuff if it's said 'nough times."
"I know what you fuckin' meant!"
(He didn't, though, and his face burns red with embarrassment.)
"S-sorry!" the singer yelps, shrinking away from the older man and he hides his face behind his hands. Once again, Murdoc doesn't say or do anything to harm him and 2D takes this as a sign to continue speaking. "...B-but seriously, Murdoc. We don't need Noodle hearin' that sorta stuff- she's gotta good head on her shoulders, y'know?"
The bassist can feel the muscles in his arms strain with the urge to hit the singer but he can't bring himself to do it.
He just can't.
oOo