I had to get off the island, that much was clear.
It was not until the next day that I felt strong enough to even so much as leave my bed, staring into space and playing the events in the recording studio over and over again inside my head. Between the confusion of how I'd felt stroking my hands over a wounded 2D to the unbearable cruelty of his words, the mere thought of seeing him again left me sick and panicked.
Murdoc said there were collaborators that were coming to and from the island. That means there has to be a way on and off, all I have to do is find it and then get the fuck out of here.
Pushing myself from my foetal position on the rucked bedspread, I padded barefoot to the doorway and looked out cautiously to check that Noodle wasn't around before making my way over to the clunking elevator. My heart was beating hard in my mouth as I waited for it to trundle down to the B3 floor, pressing myself against the wall out of sight just in case Murdoc or the cyborg girl decided to pay me a visit.
No one exited the lift however, and I stepped inside with a breath of relief. There was new graffiti on the walls, something almost illegible in blue biro. I squinted at it, but could only make out the words "forgive me for", the rest slanting into scribble. With a shrug I pressed the button for the ground floor, tapping my feet impatiently as the doors scraped slowly to a close.
When they opened, I was met with the stomach-turning stench of festering garbage, wheezing as I stepped out into the dimly lit foyer of the Plastic Beach house. Overflowing black garbage bags sat in stinking piles against the walls and spilling out rotting refuse across the metal patchwork floor.
Gagging at the smell, I stepped lightly through the waste and over to the large steel door just ahead. A porthole window set in the heavy panel allowed me a glimpse of the heaven-sent beach beyond, out in the fresh open sea air, and I felt my stomach flutter with a strange trepidation as I grabbed a hold of the door handle and wrenched it open.
What air lay waiting for me outside may have been open sea air, but it smelt anything but fresh. The curdling smell of trash prevailed, less strong than in the foyer but nevertheless enough to have me wrinkling my nose as I breathed it in. Looking out across the bright pink beach that gave the island it's name, I was horrified to realise it wasn't a real beach at all, at least not by any rational means.
Stretching out before me wasn't sand, it was shrapnel; pieces of broken plastic and polystyrene, rubber and rags. It shimmered in the sunlight with oil slicks and great sloughs of peeling pink paint that gave the impression of some terrible skin-shedding serpent that had coiled itself around the island.
I cautiously stepped out onto the alien landscape before me, grimacing as my bare foot slid in the muck. Black oil that I guessed was from the careless leakages of ships out at sea oozed between my toes, and I gagged at the sight.
In the distance, right out at the water's edge was the steps onto the wharf I had seen from Murdoc's study a few days ago, yet where there had previously only been a sea plane there was also now a small boat moored and rocking gently with the tide.
Perfect.
I took another step, only to feel something squish beneath my foot with a terrible squelching sound.
Do not look down. Don't you dare.
Gritting my teeth, I set off down the beach of trash with my eyes kept determinedly on the boat ahead. With every footfall I tripped and stumbled on the uneven surface, putrid scents wafting towards me until they were gradually replaced by the salty tang of the ocean. The trash underfoot became wet instead of oily, and it was with a jolt that I felt the lapping touch of the tideline just as I reached the beginning of the wooden jetty.
Finally looking down, I laughed aloud to see the foam-lipped rush of the tide bubbling around my feet, just as it did at any beach anywhere else in the world. It was the same gentle tide of places like Eastbourne, yet now tainted, flowing up and onto a bay made of pollution before dragging back into the sea. Less than a meter ahead of me I could see the edge of the island, the sea turning inky black and unfriendly as soon as it passed over the precipice. Shivering, I wondered how deep it was, and what number of faceless creatures lurked down there in the darkness.
Time to get the fuck out of here.
I strode up the creaking stairs of the wharf, leaving wet footprints behind me as I made my way over to the boat floating out at the end of it. It was white and coated in rust, the cabin on deck empty as I peered through the salt-crusted window. The name on the side proudly read "SS Kelly" in hand-painted and recognisable block writing, scrawled over the top of its previous name as if it had been commandeered rather than purchased.
It was as I crouched to pull at the rope securing the boat in its moorings at the rickety pier that a shadow fell over me, followed by a startlingly familiar nasal drawl.
"Are you entirely aware of how much of a bloody nuisance you are? Hmm?"
I glanced up in surprise from where I'd been examining the intricate series of knots, squinting at the green-skinned figure blotting out the brightness of the Summer sun that lit them from behind. Murdoc's talon-like nails dug into my bony shoulder as he yanked me upright, my feet leaving the wooden boards for a moment with the violent motion before I was plonked back down on the decking, toe to toe with the irritated man.
"Are you entirely aware that you need to trim ya fuckin' nails, you radge cunt?" I retorted, jerking myself from his grip to rub at the sore skin of my shoulder.
Murdoc fixed me with an unamused glare, then stepped back so that we were no longer in such close proximity as he pulled a carton of cigarettes from the back pocket of his black trousers.
"Attempting to sail away on my supply boat is really one of your dumbest ideas yet," He informed me, placing one in his mouth whilst holding out the packet in a wordless offer.
Ignoring his generosity, I felt my lips pull into a guilty grin as I conceded, "It's not even close to being my dumbest, believe me."
My words were met with only an eye roll and a small jiggle of the packet he was holding out, but I shook my head with the same sheepish grin.
"I quit a few years ago," I explained as he made a shrugging gesture and lit the end, dragging the smoke into his lungs with a ragged inhalation.
"Why? You don't exactly seem like the type for self-preservation," He asked dryly, smoke streaming from his nostrils and coiling in the air between us. The scent was immediately one of home, stirring memories both bitter and full of joy until it settled into an ache like an old friend within the space behind my ribs.
"How am I not self-preserving?" I scoffed, before grimacing as I added, "I think at a certain point in my life I just became fed up with addiction."
The green-skinned man considered my words in silence for a moment, staring out over the rough black waves that extended forever onwards toward the horizon. His lips pursed as he took another drag on the cigarette, then his hazel eyes flicked over to meet mine.
"Everyone needs a vice though," He replied simply, then grinned with the cigarette sticking out from between his teeth, "Perfection is for the gods and all their angels; the most boring bunch of wankers I've ever sat at a table with."
I laughed with a genuine smile at his egotistical claim, squinting at him while I tried to figure out if he was serious or not. The man gave me no clues however, as he turned and began sauntering back up the beach towards the doorway set into the pink cliff face, gesturing with a lazy hand for me to follow. For a moment I stared after his retreating figure, considering continuing my plan for escape while his back was turned, but as it dawned on me that I had absolutely no idea how to get back to land from wherever Point Nemo was, I sighed and jogged after him.
Setting off to sea with no food, no water and no idea how to sail? Murdoc's right: I have no sense of self-preservation after all.
As we entered the dirty, trash-filled foyer, I felt my jaw clench as I was greeted by the sight of the ever-silent Noodle standing waiting by the open elevator. Her emotionless eyes were fixed on me, and it was with a jolt of unease that I noticed the pair of handcuffs dangling from one of her rigid hands. I skidded to a halt, flashing a distrustful glance at Murdoc only to see him standing well back from me, face lit in the dim space by the glowing tip of his fag.
"What the fuck is going on?"
My voice was harsh and demanding despite the jitter of nervous dread beginning to coil inside me. I looked between the two of them, stepping backwards towards the freedom of the beach shimmering brightly behind me.
At my movement the cyborg girl launched suddenly forward, jumping at my unprepared body so that together we fell hard against the metal floor with a loud clang. White noise ran static through my brain as the back of my skull and the hard surface came to a painful collision, the breath knocked out of my lungs as Noodle landed on top of my diaphragm in a straddle. As I gasped for air she sat up enough to flip me onto my back with machine-like movements, and I seethed as I heard the metal click of the handcuffs being secured around my thin wrists.
"Murdoc, you two-faced fucking bastard!" I snarled, twisting and squirming on my stomach under the weight of the girl sitting astride my back.
"Awww I am sorry about this, love," Murdoc sniggered, walking around me so that his boots came into view, blocking the sight of the beach beyond, "But you've attacked face-ache twice now, and I can't risk you all-out killing him when I take you in there; I still need him to record more vocals for the album."
"So your first thought was to handcuff me??"
He crouched down so I could look into his face as he replied, a pea-green hand reaching to cup my jaw.
"Well to be fair, my first thought with any bird is usually about having them handcuffed," He rasped, wheezing at his own humour as he added, "But in your case it took me much longer to feel the need to conjure up that particular mental image hehgheh."
I jerked my face out of his hand, baring my teeth as he grinned and stood, his cyborg doing the same. She yanked me upwards by the back of the shirt, pulling me to stand facing Murdoc, my fingers curling into angry fists where they were fastened behind my back. I struggled, viciously wrenching against the steel cuffs in the vain hopes of being able to slip one of my hands free, the acidic taste of the beginnings of panic flooding my mouth.
The man's sweaty hands encircling my wrists like a vice, slamming them to the ground either side of my head and I couldn't move I couldn't struggle free and no one was coming to save me -
The memory rose unbidden, a visceral flash that turned my blood to ice as I continued to jerk and squirm in my bonds. The man of the present who stood before me was ignorant of my growing agitation, pausing with his fingers stroking his pointy chin and gaze half-lidded as it wandered down my body for a moment before flicking back up to meet mine.
"You know, I think this might be my favourite version of you I've encountered yet, Sloane," He mused, then grinned wide as he stepped closer, his cigarette-scented breath tickling against my ear as he whispered, "You're not quite so terrifying when you're rendered so helpless."
No no no no no no no no -
I shrunk away from him, every cell in my body pulsing with the instincts of the past as I felt bile crawl its way hotly up my throat, then the world went to static and I was slamming my head into his face hard enough to see stars.
Murdoc reeled back with a wordless shout of pain, holding his bulging nose with both hands as I dazedly swayed on the spot, my forehead aching from the impact. In a kind of distant horror I realised what I'd done, watching as Murdoc glared at me with eyes narrowed in sudden violent hate, scarlet dripping through the verdant fingers he held over his damaged nose.
"I'm sorry, Murdoc I'm so sorry-" I began to apologise in a stumbling rush, before choking on the rambling words as the man raised his hand, stepping towards me in a lunge I was sure would end in a stinging blow.
I flinched away, eyes scrunching closed and unable to raise my arms to shield my face as I waited for the hit that never came. A heartbeat passed, and then I allowed my eyelids to cautiously flutter open, confusion blooming to blot out my fear.
Murdoc stood less than an arms length away, frozen with his hand still raised yet seemingly unable to follow through with the slap. Blood was smeared across his open palm, beautifully red against the green. Heart beating hard and fast, I dared to look at his face only to find he no longer looked angry at all, his expression instead flickering with an emotion I couldn't name, gone too quickly for me to fully comprehend whatever it was that had made him stop. Lowering his hand, the man's hazel eyes slid away from my questioning gaze as he wordlessly brushed past me.
I turned, looking after him perplexedly as he stabbed at the elevator "down" button with a sharp-nailed thumb, refusing to look at neither me nor his cyborg as he waited for the doors to open. He strode inside, shoulders hunched as he clicked his fingers for Noodle to follow, dragging me dazedly along with her.
No one spoke on the ride down to the floor B2, the clunking and rattling of the lift the only sound in the otherwise echoing silence. Guilt chewed at my insides, though as to why exactly I wasn't sure. My hands continued to twist agitatedly in their restraints, the delicate skin of my wrists beginning to rub raw against the unyielding metal.
There was a soft chime, and doors scraped open to reveal the sprawling mess of 2D's bedroom, the man who lived there cowering on his bed against the far wall, face white with fear. For a dizzy moment I thought he was looking so terrified because of me, but then I realised his attention was on the porthole window that looked out into the inky depths of the ocean. As I watched, something moved out there in the darkness, although what exactly it was I couldn't be sure.
"Just as promised, face-ache!" Murdoc announced cheerily, all hints of his strangely withdrawn mood previous now missing as he shoved me hard enough to send me stumbling several steps into the room beyond, "Since you're so keen to stay in here instead of coming up to the recording studio, you now get to enjoy your favourrrrite friend's company heghheh. Have fun you two!"
2D looked over in surprise, before his black gaze fell on me standing off-balance and unsettled across the room.
"What the fuck is she doing back in here?" He exclaimed, scrambling into the corner of his bed nook and looking at me with narrowed eyes, "Go on, sod off. Sod off!"
"Sod off? What are you, an old Northerner man?" I snapped in response as the doors clanged shut behind me, short temper made considerably shorter by my handcuffed condition.
"Awright, how's this then: fuck off," he sneered back, hugging his knees to himself.
Taken aback by the venom with which he said the words, I frowned, turning away with a snide retort of, "Yeah I wish I could, it'd be better than being trapped in a room with you, 2D."
We've both become so bitter, so unable to be anything but malcontent. I can't even look at him without all this useless spiteful poison.
"You used to call me 'Stu'," the boy muttered when my back was turned, and it took all my willpower not to lunge at him as everything for a moment flashed hot and red and angry.
I couldn't bring myself to look back at him as my lips parted to reply, quivering with the terrible sadness of it all. I could feel the weight of his dark eyes burning against the back of my skull, could feel the miserable courage I needed to respond wilting under that gaze.
"You're not him. You're not the boy I remember."
A silence settled over the room, the two of us at a stalemate from which together there was no further we could go. Still fidgeting anxiously in the handcuffs, I stalked over to the corner furthest from the blue-haired man and awkwardly set about the task of sinking to a seated position on the messy floor without the use of my arms. I carelessly kicked his dirty laundry aside to clear a space, then slid down against the wall until I was settled back against it, my legs drawn up to my chest.
I raised my head to sneak a glance at 2D, only to jolt in surprise as I was instead met with the disturbing sight of a large eye staring back at me through the circular window near his head. I froze, not daring to move so much as an inch under the piercing gaze of whatever creature it was which had trapped me in it's sights.
"2D..." I whispered, lips barely moving as I maintained the horrific eye-contact.
"What? What the fuck do you want from me?" He snapped, his head jerking up to look at me in my peripheral before I watched with out of focus vision as he too went rigid, voice a choked whisper as he asked, "That fing... that big fish... is it back?"
The large murky eye finally released me from it's terrifying hold to scan around the rest of the room, then dipped from view. I breathed a sigh of relief, before narrowing my eyes at 2D where he sat cowering against the wall above his bed. My perplexed state suddenly snapped into clarity as I realised there was only one thing the eye could have belonged to.
"There's a whale out there? That's the whale Murdoc was talking about, the one that's keeping you here?" I demanded, the beginnings of a wry smile pulling at my lips.
"Yes! It's always out there tryin' ta watch me, lickin' it's lips at the thought of eatin' me whole," He rambled, trembling in pure terror.
"Whales don't lick their lips you daft radge," I scoffed, laughing as he fixed me with a reproachful look, "I can't believe you've been too scared of a big gentle marine mammal to have escaped this place already."
"Gentle?? GENTLE? That fing is pure evil!" 2D protested in a shrill yelp that only made me smirk wider. Visibly trying to deepen his voice, he gave me a sour grimace as he continued, "Murdoc's got it paid ta watch me. If I even try ta leg it, it immediately comes fa me wiv it's big snapping jaws."
I shook my head, snorting derisively at his phobia-induced paranoia whilst he fumed on the other side of the room.
"I'm serious, Sloane!"
"You're pathetic, 2D!" I retorted, mimicking his exasperated whine.
At my callousness he lapsed back into sullen silence, sniffing as he looked away from my corner of the room. I watched the way he fiddled nervously with his fingers, twiddling them together and around one another again and again as he shifted in his hidden position from the whale. Locks of blue hair fell messy into his eyes, and he agitatedly flicked them away, nibbling on his lip with gap-filled teeth. I could feel pity bubbling up inside of me, and I savagely crushed it, trying my best to instead regard the anxious man with contempt.
It's his fault you're even here; his selfishness. He deserves to suffer.
Angry, I shifted in my restraints, wrists aching as I eyed 2D. He was rubbing his temples, brow furrowed and eyes closed to the flickering fluorescent lights above. Without his knowledge of my gaze, I let my eyes wander over the bruised surface of his face, tracing the line of his jaw and then dipping down to the scrawny lengths of his bare arms. There were deep purple circles around each of his eyes, marking how sleepless his nights must have been since coming to the island, and it was with guilt that I noticed the crusting of dried blood still under his nose from the punch I'd given him yesterday.
"Why are we here?" I asked into our silence, curiosity getting the better of me. I didn't know if I was asking for an explanation of why we were both at the island or why we had ended up so bitterly hating one another, but nevertheless I needed to finally hear his version of events, to know exactly how all this mess had come to be.
"Because Murdoc is an egomaniac who couldn't handle me not wantin' ta be on another album," 2D replied in a tired sigh, hugging his knees to his chest and staring off into space, "I was halfway across the other side of the soddin' world, and he still managed ta find me. Or at least that 'Boogieman' fing did; gassed me unconscious an' then delivered me straight ta Murdoc on this stinkin' hunk of trash."
I blinked, surprised that he'd been abducted just as I had, before narrowing my eyes as he continued to speak.
"We're both prisoners here, Sloane, although I dunno how Murdoc got it in his head ta have you brought here. I know I used ta talk about you back at Kong, but that was so long ago, he shouldn't have remembered."
Grinding my teeth, my reply tasted bitter as it rolled from my tongue, "Oh I'm sure he wouldn't have remembered, if it hadn't been for you being a whingeing little cunt."
"What?" He breathed, staring at me in surprise at my suddenly violent response. I felt the irrational anger beginning to coil rancid in my gut as I watched him play innocent.
"Calling out my name in your sleep? Whining loud enough so that Murdoc could hear and get the lunatic notion in his head that you missed me?" I spat, face twisting into a snarl, "What a sick joke that would be."
2D glanced down, hair falling in blue tufts to obscure his black eyes for a moment as he went completely still. When he answered it was in a murmur, a sound scarcely above a whisper yet loud in the silence that sat between us.
"I did miss you, I still do."
His words were quietly brave, and I felt them settle heavy against my heart as he looked up finally, half-lidded black eyes finding my widening grey ones. The words mattered, they mattered too much, and I found myself swallowing hard against the sudden lump in my throat as I heard my own voice ring out in reply, cold and hollow.
"Then you're a bigger fool than I thought."
We stared at each other, each sitting there with the ghost of our former selves watching on in horror. I could see them like faint outlines, standing side by side with their hands clasped tightly together. I wanted to reach through the years and pull them both into my arms, to press my lips against each of their disapproving frowns and say I was sorry, I was so fucking sorry for what I had let us become.
The sullen 2D of the present couldn't see them as he slowly let his features twist into a frown, lips trembling slightly as he opened them to speak in a voice raw with pain.
"Why are you bein' like this? I didn't mean ta have you brought here, Sloane, I didn't mean fa any of this ta happen."
"I don't care!" I snapped, cringing when the words cracked and broke as they left my mouth, "Whether you wished it or not, Lou is gone, and nothing you can say will change that."
"Stop that! Stop acting like you're the only one in the world who's ever lost someone."
I felt my lungs constrict, pushing the breath from them in a sharp and angry exhalation.
"Says the man who's never loved anyone enough to consider them a loss in the first place," I spat, leaning forward from the wall to hurl the words across the room at him.
2D flinched, jet black eyes widening as they filled with tears of hurt indignation.
"I lost Noodle!"
I watched them shimmer across his eyelashes and finally fall as he threw the words at me, angry and bitter. Confusion left me silent for a moment, my mind reeling as I tried to comprehend what he had just said.
The cyborg?
"You saw Noodle not even twenty minutes ago..." I said slowly, before trailing off as he shook his head vigorously.
"That... that fing is not my Noodle," He all but hissed, eyes narrowing as he stared off into space, "My Noodle, the real Noodle, died two years ago."
I leaned back against the wall with an uncomfortable twinge of guilt, recalling 2D once telling me back at the carnival that his bandmate Noodle was like his adopted sister, someone he loved as much as his own flesh and blood.
Maybe you're not so very different in your suffering after all.
I shoved the thought away, furious at the very idea of it as I swallowed my feeling of guilt.
"What happened?"
2D blinked, a single silvery tear tracking down his pale and bruised cheek as he murmured, "We were filming a music video, an' there was this accident... all this fire everywhere an' then the explosion; she couldn't have survived. Me an' Russel never even found her body. There was nothing ta bury or mourn, just a video of her screaming fa our help as the floating island went down..."
He trailed off, turning his head away so I couldn't look at his face as his shoulders began to shake with silent sobs. They wracked his thin form, long arms moving to hug his ribs as they heaved for air. I averted my gaze, unsure how to feel for all the emotions that battled for dominance inside my mind.
"The other Noodle, the one here on the island," I began tentatively, "Who is she then? Why does she exist?"
2D sniffed, angrily scrubbing at his eyes with his knuckles as he wiped away the tears. Settling his face onto his knees so that I couldn't see, he mumbled into them, "That's Murdoc bein' a remorseless bastard. It's his fault Noodle is gone, an' then when he next needs a guitar player he goes an' makes a new one out of scrap parts and DNA. As if she was nuffin' except fa a means to an end. It makes me sick."
I felt something go icy in me, my pity for the blue-haired man before me suddenly shrivelling at his words.
Hypocrite.
"Well I'm sorry for your loss," I murmured, before my voice hardened, "But it's not the same; your Noodle died in an accident, not from an overdose that could have easily been prevented if you'd just left me the fuck alone."
2D's head snapped up to stare across at me, all the colour draining from his cheeks as he processed my answer, and I realised that I had unknowingly crossed a borderline and into the land beyond it. Between us something had died, an unforgivable impasse finally reached. I could see it in the way his eyelids lowered in disdain, his face closing up like an oyster hiding its pearl to become sharp and slicing. When he opened his mouth, he spoke as if the very act made him sick to do so, and the words fell like hammer blows against me.
"You know what I fink? I fink you know deep down I'm not truly ta blame; otherwise you'd be hating Murdoc just as much as you hate me right now. You're lookin' for a scape-goat an' I'm an easy target 'cause you're still bitter that I wouldn't fuck you."
"Get fucked," I hissed, teeth bared in a snarl.
"I'd love to, by anyone except you," 2D snapped.
"Good, I'd never want to be touched by someone who'll fuck any girl who's willing and then wimps out when it comes down to committing," I bit back savagely, watching his eyes grow wide with shock and hurt.
"Well I'm glad I never committed ta you, Sloane McLeod," 2D whispered, voice rasping as if trying to choke itself past a lump in his throat, "A girl so fucked in the head she'd rather blame me than own up ta the fact that her brother is dead because of her."
Everything was white noise, angry and sad and buzzing forever into the loneliness that sat between us. I tried to breathe but no air would enter my lungs and the terrible wheeze that crawled its way out from between my lips was for a moment the only sound in the underwater room.
He's right he's right; it's your fault, yours and yours alone you worthless girl, you terrible monster.
Then 2D unfroze, voice almost a yell of horror as he stumbled over himself to speak.
"No I didn't mean that, Sloane I didn't mean that I'm so sorry I didn't mean that-"
"Congratulations," I interrupted, my voice barely louder than a whisper.
"- I'm sorry I'm so so sorry - wait, what do you mean?" He faltered in his shame-filled rush to apologise, squinting at me. I found myself averting my gaze, shifting uncomfortably in the handcuffs I was bound in as I felt his fathomless black eyes pin me down.
"Here was I thinking you could never say anything that'd hurt more than your goodbye back at the fairgrounds," I murmured past the sudden lump in my throat, feeling the humiliating weakness of tears prickle at my eyes, "Yet you've managed to surpass yourself. Congratu-fucking-lations, 2D."
He didn't respond to my barbed remark, watching my face as I tried to bite back a sob. It all hurt too much, agony instead of an ache, a killing blow instead of a scar. We sat worlds apart and years wasted for all the good it had done either of us. I wanted everything I had ever lost back, I wanted to walk into a room and find everyone there and waiting for me; Lou, Birdie, my mother, and Stu. The blue-haired boy from the carnival, smiling up at me in the dark like I was brighter than the moon itself.
What a useless and bitter thing it is, loving both the living and the dead.
The man sitting in the very corner of his bed to hide from the whale outside was neither smiling at me nor regarding me like the moon. Instead, he eyed me warily, as if at any moment I might escape from my handcuffs and attack him.
Finally, he spoke, voice raspy and morose.
"I only said that because I'm all slow in the head an' I don't fink enough before I open my big dumb mouth. I didn't mean it, Sloane."
"You're not slow," I snapped without thinking, then paused, shocked at my defensive outburst. I looked up and met 2D's equally surprised gaze before I finally managed to finish my sentence, "... you're just easily distracted."
It meant something, those words. A loving instinct still living, a confession of care that for all the years and all my bitterness I had never been quite able to crush. It existed in the way my hands had so gently caressed his bruised and beaten spine yesterday, in the way he still made me want to defend him, to help him to his feet.
"You know what?" He said slowly, rueful as he slowly unfurled from his curled position on the bed, "I don't fink I've heard anyone say that about me fa at least five years."
And the blue-haired man smiled at me, so tentatively it made my heart hurt, and I could only sit there with aching wrists and chest and wanting to take it all back. I didn't want to hurt him, I just wanted to hurt myself.
"Yeah well," I began, trying to brush it off with nonchalance even as my voice began to crack. In horror I realised I was beginning to cry, and I choked on my own sobs as I tried desperately to muffle them, turning my face away.
He moved towards me suddenly, stooping to help lift me to my feet, and my heart slammed hard in my chest, frightened by the sudden contact which I was helpless to escape. The urge to tell him to get his hands off me dissolved as I felt the pressure of his touch, the warmth of his flesh against mine enough to leave me breathless with how much I'd missed the sensation. I stood trembling, legs weak as he wrapped his arms around me, cradling my rigid body to his lanky frame.
"Hey now, it's awright," He was saying but it only made the sobs wrack my thin form even harder. His hands stroked rhythmically along my spine, before one came to cup the back of my head, the other wrapped tight around my spasming ribs.
"It is my fault," I whispered, tongue rasping with the taste of salt, "If I had been faster or better or anything at all I could have saved him."
"It's no one's fault, Sloane," 2D murmured against the crown of my skull, his lips brushing the spiky hairs, "It's just a terribly sad fing that happened to a person who didn't deserve it."
"Then why do I feel so broken inside?" I whispered, tears soaking into the fabric of his t-shirt, "Why does it feel like I failed him?"
I heard 2D swallow as he tried to think of what to say, and I buried my face further into his shoulder with shame. There was nothing he could have said that'd make the pain go away. There was no quick fix for any of it. I was falling apart in front of him just like I had when I was younger, only this time I was fully aware of how useless the act truly was.
"You're not broken, you're stronger than ever. Strong enough to strangle good old Stu, right?" He finally said, managing to tease a sheepish smile from me with his light and laughing jibe.
Not strong enough to admit I missed you though, Stu. Not strong enough for that.
"Come on, let's watch somefink," He continued, rocking me side to side in his arms like a slalom pole, face warm with that wide grin I'd first fallen in love with. I laughed in surprised mirth and wriggled to escape, before standing back from him to return his smile with a feeble tear-stained one of my own.
"The distractible boy arranging a distraction? Sounds infallible," I teased half-heartedly, and he snickered and gave me a gentle shove.
I watched him walk over to a pile of Blu-ray Discs that had been left out of their cases in a messy heap and kneel down to inspect them, my heart thudding hard in my chest. I couldn't place the exact reason for it to be beating so fast, except that it must have had something to do with the blue-haired man; something like being alive. After a few moments shuffling through them he lifted three chosen discs up, held by a long finger poked through each hole like cheese rings.
"Which one?"
"Surprise me."
He flicked two of the discs off his hand, waggling his pointer finger in it's position through the remaining disc's centre circle with a suggestive smirk that had me rolling my eyes. Unfazed, 2D placed it on the Blu-Ray machine's tray and pressed the play button, jumping back onto the bed so that he was lying stretched out on his stomach, attention on the television screen that flickered to life in the corner.
I stood for a moment longer on the opposite side of the room, before he shifted over and absentmindedly patted the space on the bed beside him. I felt my breath hitch, the familiarity of it all like a knife slid between my ribs, and I shook my head at his invitation, choosing instead to sit at the foot of the bed, my back leant against it as I fixed my attention on the film's opening scene.
It turned out to be some low-budget horror film about demonic possession and gore, but I found myself happy for the distraction the cliche plot provided. Throughout the film, 2D sporadically leaned forward to whisper the dialogue in my ear only a moment before the onscreen characters did, putting on a limited range of silly accents for each one that had me laughing in a raspy wheeze despite myself. I couldn't help but wonder how many times he had sat alone in the room and watched the few films he had by himself, and smiled at the thought of him practicing mimicking the dialogue to the cardboard cutout of Spiderman that sat incongruously against the far wall. He'd dressed it up in one of his shirts and had a strange mask hanging over it, a circular smiling face with large staring eyes and a long Pinocchio-style nose. The same face featured on several of the scribbled drawings he had pinned to the walls around the room, and I wrinkled my nose at the thought of how bored he must have been being locked in here alone all this time.
The thought vanished as there was a jump-scare onscreen, and I yelped loudly while he laughed hard enough at my reaction for me to feel the vibration of his chest through the mattress against my shoulders. I made a "hmph" noise in pretend-offence, but smiled as I kept my eyes trained on the screen, cheeks warm.
"You know this doesn't fix things, right?" I asked later, when the credits began to roll on the movie and he got up to eject the disc.
"Well I dunno if 'Evil Dead' ever fixed anyfink," He replied with a dopey grin, exchanging the Blu-Ray disc for a new one, shuffling back to his spot as it began to play, "But this one just might."
As the title reading 'Let The Right One In' flashed up onscreen I flashed him a wry smirk, raising an eyebrow as he snickered at his own wit.
"It just might," I laughed, feeling better than I had in a long time, "It just might."