Chapter 18
warning: this one features a weird hallucination. nothing too horrible tho don't worry (i mean it doesn't freak me out so) drug induced? only i know the answer to this.
oOo
((withdrawl))
Rain pelts incessantly against the outer walls of Kong as the inhabitants continue to sleep. It creates a continuous rhythmic beat as a dull roar settles into the background, lulling and coaxing those around it into a deep sense of peace.
Murdoc can't hear any of it.
Barely asleep, he drifts in and out of consciousness and sighs tiredly through his nose. Clad in only a pair of briefs and 2D's jacket, he presses his face into his shirt-sleeves and inhales deeply.
In, and...
...out.
He breathes in the potent scent of his singer, cloudy mind drifting off even further as his brain begins to shut down. In the silence of early dawn, he allows himself this small sense of bliss.
There's a loud rumbling just overhead and his muscles clench involuntarily, stirring him from his haze. A clap of thunder sounds sharply against the outer-building and he falls to the floor in a startled heap.
"Shit." he hisses, tangled and lost in his stained sheets and he has to kick his legs several times in order to free himself. "Satan!"
Having successfully escaped the sheet's evil clutches, Murdoc claws at his bed and drags himself to his feet, disoriented and sore.
Overdid it again, he chastises himself. Should'a kept at it.
He stumbles a bit and nearly trips, gripping desperately at the nearest surface in an attempt to balance himself. His hair hangs limply in his face, obscuring his already blurry vision and when he straightens himself out he brushes it away from his eyes. His arms are lost within 2D's jacket-sleeves, jumbled, and he struggles to roll them up.
The rain is loud now, falling harder and Murdoc knows that the power is going to fail soon. He wraps his arms around himself tightly and mutters something under his breath, padding over to his door. He opens it slowly and across the lot he can see shadows dancing.
Almost un-recognizable shapes move and sway across the walls and he nearly slams the door shut again when he sees something standing just outside of 2D's room. He squints his eyes, trying to focus them enough to see the figure properly. Something in the back of his head is telling him to look away, to stop staring but of course he's going to ignore it.
The figure is long, lean, lanky and for a second he thinks he knows who it is.
"Stuart?" he asks, hesitant and in his tired state he forgets to put his guard up. The figure's back is to him still, too dark to make out any specific details and when it doesn't respond Murdoc calls over again. "'D?"
Its head bobs gently and it raises an inhumanly frail arm, audibly snapping under the pressure of movement. It turns its head slowly, bones cracking in its neck sickeningly and okay that's definitely not 2D.
Murdoc feels his breath hitch in his throat and his blood runs cold.
Those eyes.
They're hollow sockets, devoid of light and emotion, seeming lifeless but they hold his gaze effortlessly. It doesn't have a mouth but the bottom of its face sags and the skin there strains as if it were crying out in pain- as if it were attempting to break through the flesh that prevents it from doing so. Its skin is a disgusting pasty yellow, peeling around a sunken nose and the sparse hairs on its head are a deathly gray. Almost blue.
It blinks once and Murdoc knows that his life is over. In an instant the figure is kneeling, crawling, its joints moving at impossible angles and he's frozen where he stands. He can't blink, he needs to cover his eyes and when he does nothing touches him.
Removing his hand from his face he sees nothing. No figure making its way over to him. No impostors lurking outside of 2D's door.
His heart beats heavy in his chest and he slinks back into his Winnebago without a sound, locking the door shut behind him.
Sucking in a shuddering breath, he zips 2D's jacket up and wraps himself in it tighter. He has to remind himself that he's seen worse things in his life and he ignores the urge to scream.
oOo
It's isn't uncomfortable.
But he could do without the murmuring below the silence. The reverberating hums echoing in his brain, bouncing off the inside of his skull and making his eyes dart around the room.
He could do without all of that.
oOo
((darkness))
Quiet.
The room has fallen to a soft hush and there's a mute buzzing coming from the light overhead. The sensation is so real and so physical that he can almost feel it in his head, behind his eyes and pressing against his teeth.
Sitting adjacent to 2D on the couch Murdoc rests his chin in his open palm and he glances up at the singer through the corner of his eye. The television blares meaningless-jargon into the room through the speakers, doing absolutely nothing to soothe the strange alertness Murdoc feels.
But.
Alert isn't really the right word to characterize his current mental state. Mere words can't even begin to describe how he's feeling right now. An attempt at doing so would be to say that he's feeling anxious or fearful, but even more so. It's more ingrained.
It's more striking.
He doesn't dare take his eyes off of 2D. He can tell that 2D notices the attention he's giving him but Murdoc can't bring himself to stop. His eyes trace the planes of 2D's gentle face, across his smile and down the curve of his back. He looks everywhere just so he can be sure that he's really seeing the singer. 2D shifts his weight a bit and Murdoc takes a chance, scooting himself closer to the other.
To keep a better watch? Of course.
2D stares off at the television screen dully, never blinking, never moving, hair falling into his face when his head gives the faintest twitch and Murdoc's eyes follow.Silky-blue strands settle against the singer's pale cheek, barely obscuring the bassist's view of his profile and without thinking about it he reaches up and tucks it behind the taller man's ear.
2D looks down at him in confusion, eyebrows raised in a silent question but he doesn't seem to be bothered by it. Murdoc looks off to the side, lowering his hand into his lap without a word, keeping quiet. 2D continues to look at him, a small frown pulling at the corners of his mouth and he chews on his lip in thought.
"...Y'doin' alright', Muds?"
He leans his weight against Murdoc's side as he asks this, a thoughtless action, purely out of the compelling need to comfort. Murdoc feels it and he buries the blissful satisfaction blooming in his chest, killing off the urge to smile before it has a chance to form.
He hums softly in reply, a noncommittal answer but it's the best he can provide. He raises his hand again and places it on 2D's knee, squeezing it once. Nothing suggestive, just an self-assuring gesture.
It's sweet and 2D doesn't question it.
"...Are you sure?" he asks, pressing the matter tentatively. "Y'seem a bit..quiet, yeah?"
Murdoc sighs through his nose and retracts his hand, combing it through his hair in an attempt to ignore the question.
"..Muds?"
Murdoc grumbles to himself and nudges 2D's side irritably, moving away from him a bit to provide space.
"I'm fine." he sighs in exasperation, glaring up at the singer through his fringe but it isn't really genuine. His mismatched eyes aren't angry and there's a disconnect between their intensity and the expression on his face.
2D's shoulders slump a bit and he frowns.
"...Alrigh', if you say so."
And it's back to the silent staring.
Murdoc begins to fidget despite himself and now he just wants to get up and leave. He wants to leave the singer behind, to curse at him for pressing into private matters but he can't.
2D sends him a look, brows arched and he adjusts his position on the couch so that he's sitting with his back pressed against the armrest, arms wrapped around his legs. The epitome of casual concern.
If there were such a thing, of course.
"Murdoc." he sighs, his voice gentle- gentle enough to crack the bassist's resolve and Murdoc ceases his erratic movements. 2D looks as if he's trying to piece together a complicated thought, his unsure expression veiled with frustration. "...Listen, mate- I know that m'not.. the smartest, or the most observant bloke around. But... you're m'best friend... an' I know that somethin's botherin' you."
Murdoc's fingers twitch and something in his chest constricts. He's facing the singer fully now, gruff exterior completely shattered and for a moment he struggles to piece it back together.
Not like it matters, though.
His chest his tight, his throat is tighter and he doesn't trust his voice.
He takes a shuddering breath and turns away from the singer, lowering his face into his hands and he rubs his eyes. 2D makes a questioning sound in the back of his throat, a broken attempt to verbalize his confusion.
The bassist mutters to himself before he lifts his face from his hands and looks over at the singer again. 2D is staring at him attentively, making no move to speak.
Before Murdoc can say anything the overhead light ceases its buzzing and it begins to flicker and twitch. It blinks, sporadically at first and it suddenly dies, shrouding the two of them in darkness.
Murdoc lets out a distressed groan, kicking his heel against the floor in aggravation.
"...Looks like the power's out, Muds." the singer says suddenly, his voice much closer than it had been before and it makes the bassist jump in his seat.
"Stop fucking doing that." he snaps, elbowing 2D roughly, evoking a pained gasp from the other man. 2D coughs a few times and lets out a small groan.
"Sorry." he wheezes, voice pitched up in discomfort and Murdoc can hear the rustling of his shirt as he rubs at his stomach. "I didn' mean t'scare you."
Murdoc grunts in reply and shakes his head, scowling. An uncomfortable moment of silence passes before 2D clears his throat.
"...What should we do?" he asks softly, voice but a raised whisper in the silent room. Murdoc shrugs but it goes unnoticed by 2D.
For obvious reasons.
A feeling of unease begins to settle in the pit of Murdoc's stomach and despite the fact that he's wearing 2D's jacket, he feels cold.
"...Muds?"
Murdoc sighs and grips at the couch cushion, tapping his foot in irritation.
"Not much we can do, face ache."
It's quiet for a moment before he feels 2D shift a bit in his spot.
"...So, we're just gonna stay out here?"
"Looks like it."
More silence.
"...Okay."
oOo
They never moved off of the couch.
He doesn't know how long they've been sitting there but he knows it's been a while. He wonders, vaguely, when Noodle and Russell will be back from doing whatever errands they went out to do. What the plan will be to get Kong up and running again.
But, in the deepest crevices and corners of his heart, he hopes that they won't be returning anytime soon. Because although he likes having electricity and running water, it's also really nice sitting in peaceful silence with 2D.
Listening to him talk, to him breathe and laugh, feeling him press against his side in the dark confines of their shared space.
His eyes have long since adjusted to the dark room, and he knows that due to 2D's poor eyesight the singer is still completely lost in the dark.
But he doesn't want this moment to end, so he doesn't say anything.
"I wonder where the others are."
Of course, 2D has to ruin it.
oOo
((later))
Venturing out into the halls in the middle of a storm was a horrible and imprudent idea and Murdoc has no one to blame but himself.
He had forgotten about those sinister twins lurking in the outer-reaches of the recording studio. He had also forgotten that the zombies from the landfill are one-hundred-percent capable of entering Kong of their own accord.
He had forgotten both of those things and now he's paying for it. And, of course, he isn't alone.
2D is with him.
Which makes the whole situation worse. Substantially worse, and it's because trying to find a hiding space that'll fit two people is really fucking hard.
Ducking down narrow hallways and through trash infested passages, the two men come across a familiar- albeit small- closet and they both force themselves inside without a second thought. Yanking the door closed, the two are smashed uncomfortably together and if Murdoc wasn't so terrified of what was lurking just beyond the door he'd be in the midst of fighting off an erection.
His face is currently at level with 2D's chest, the singer's crotch is pressing into his abdomen firmly and okay scratch that he's enjoying himself far too much for it to be healthy.
"This feels strangely familiar." 2D whispers against Murdoc's forehead, softly, frame rigid and Murdoc almost chokes on his spit because he misunderstands the reference.
"What?" he splutters, trying and failing to launch himself away from the other's reach. Of course, that's impossible to do in their small closet space and it only results in him smacking his head sharply against the wall behind him.
"Murdoc!" 2D yelps, forgetting to keep his voice down and he clamps a hand over his mouth in panic. Silence continues to stretch outside the door and he uncovers his mouth, seeming cautious and he heaves a sigh. "Are you okay?"
"Aside from killing braincells that the alcohol didn't already take care of, I'm just peachy." Murdoc snaps, rubbing the back of his head painfully.
He's drawing a blank.
"..What were we talking about?"
2D lets out a short laugh and Murdoc can feel him shake his head.
"Nothin', mate."
He knows that the singer is lying but he shrugs in acceptance.
They fall silent after that, only exchanging words when absolutely necessary and they feel safe for the most part. At least, Murdoc feels safe. He's feeling wholly at peace until he hears a loud stomping in the distance. There's no voice attached to it, nothing to give him a clue as to what might be coming for them- just heavy feet against the floor and dull thuds following.
The sounds of bodies hitting the floor. They're drawing closer.
Before Murdoc has a chance to speak the door is suddenly yanked open from the other side. He lets out a horrified shriek and throws himself into the singer's open arms, his own arms wrapping tightly around 2D's neck and shoulders. 2D joins in with his screaming and they clutch at each other desperately, nearly toppling over themselves in their ridiculous display. This goes on for a good ten-seconds before Murdoc realizes that he's still in one piece and still very much alive.
An awkward, throaty cough resounds from the doorway and when Murdoc finally opens his eyes he's face to face with Russell. And the lights are back on.
The three of them remain stock-still, the faint groaning in the background quickly turning into background-noise and Murdoc is having a hard time regulating his heart-rate. Russell is the first to break the silence, clearing his throat uncomfortably.
"Nice hiding space."
The arms around Murdoc's waist tighten their hold a bit and 2D lets out a relieved laugh.
"Oh my God I thought we were gonna die!" he cries out, turning the fearful embrace into a hug and he buries his face in Murdoc's neck. His laughter is on the brink of hysterics but it never really gets there.
"...Yeah." Murdoc grunts, eyes locked with Russell's.
Russell purses his lips and raises a brow meaningfully at Murdoc, shaking his head slowly. "Nice jacket."
He shakes his head once more and leaves it at that, abandoning the pair in awkward silence. Murdoc's jaw is slack and his frame is rigid.
Shit.
He'd forgotten that he was still wearing 2D's jacket. Before he has a chance to realize just how compromising their position really is he's slowly being lowered to his feet. 2D cracks him a smile and shrugs.
"You can keep it."
oOo