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2D awoke from a hazy sleep. He blinked a few times, itching his eyes and sighing, cringing in pain at the way they tingled uncomfortably in his skull. He licked his lips, rolling to the other side, outstretching his arm to wrap around his girlfriend, her warmth running through his body as he sighed, cuddling closer into her. She didn’t stir; a small snore emitted from her prone form. He let out a small laugh, it was breathy and fatigued, but earnest. He curled back into her, letting sleep take him over.
When he awoke again, he was cold. It seeped into his bones, and he found he could do nothing but shiver pathetically. His hands curled in the sheets where Paual was, and he let out a short breath of confusion, finally opening his eyes to see the bed beside him devoid of any life. He frowned, upset, though this was becoming a more common occurrence as of late. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and yawning loudly, stretching the sleep out of his limbs as he looked at the clock sitting on the dresser opposite the room. He frowned when he remembered he couldn’t read it from this far anymore; he couldn’t see much of anything now. He stood up, nearly tripping over the clothes scattered around the room, and he muttered under his breath about his own shitty habits as he approached the clock, holding it dangerously close to his face. The numbers were still blurry, but he could still make them out.
“06:00, awful early time to b’ gettin’ up.” He muttered to himself, practically slamming the clock on the dresser as he shuffled through the room, picking up the stray clothes that littered the floor and tossing them haphazardly into the hamper. He approached the window, lifting it up The cool morning air blew into his face in the most satisfying of ways as he pulled out a cigarette, lighting it out of the wind’s cold reach before inhaling the smoke, looking at the rising sun from the cemetery studio Murdoc had somehow afforded.
Deep in his gut, a dark feeling had been festering. A lingering thought that something wasn’t right. He inhaled again, letting the smoke run its way to his veins and grab them tightly, creating a burning feeling that was oh so addictive. It didn’t last long; the cold feeling continued to build in his chest until the warmth of the smoke could no longer push it down. He pursed his lips in annoyance, pushing the butt of the cigarette into the ashtray, making his way to the door ,and pushing it open. Surprisingly, it didn’t creak, didn’t even make a single sound, strange. It only served to make him feel more uneasy than he already was. He gulped, body alight with nervousness as he strolled through the hallways. The second floor was silent, eerily so, not even Russel’s snoring permeated through the door.
The worried 2D, so he decided to check on the man, if only discreetly, walking to the man’s door and cracking it open only to see the man sleeping peacefully allowed 2D to release a long breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, closing the door again and allowing the man his well-deserved rest.
Maybe he was overthinking everything, maybe the cold feeling was some other die effect of the crash that he just hadn’t had before, concerning sure, but not something new or surprising in any way. So he let out a breath, heading down the stairs, content to make breakfast for himself and his girlfriend. As he creeped down the stairs as to not wake Murdoc up, he heard the most peculiar noise, almost like a dying elephant, ever curious he creeped towards the noise, it emanated from the share bathroom, 2D was ready for some sort of creepy crawly, maybe a rat of some sort, but when he creaked the door open, he was met with the most vulgar visage. Murdoc was under his girlfriend, shirt off, and giggling maniacally as his tongue traced Paula’s neck. Unlike Murdoc, she was fully indecent, sitting on his lap and giving him a crude but pleased smile. 2D let out a shrill sound, slamming the door shut and backing up against the wall behind him.
He dragged his hand down his face, trying to calm his racing heart. It was no use, his palms were sweaty as he used the wall to guide him to the kitchen, sitting heavily on a chair, and shoving his face into his hands. Nothing got rid of the image plaguing his mind. Her self-gratified smirk and how she seemed to be actively enjoying it (which bothered him more than the actual cheating did at the moment, because Murdoc? Really?) He sat there for a long moment until he heard clambering down the hallway and two shouting voices. He stood up, anger painting his features as Paual walked into the room, guilt on her expression as she stood now fully clothed. Though her shirt was on backwards and her hair was frazzled. She turned her head, meeting 2D’s eyes, and she froze like a deer in headlights.
“How long?” He demanded, surprised at how watery his voice actually came out. His eyes were scrunched, but he felt no tears pricking the edges of his eyes. Could he even cry anymore? He didn’t know; all he knew was that he wanted answers, and he wanted them now.
“Stu, it isn’t what it-” She started, voice catching as he cut her off.
“I asked how bloody long’ Pauls, how long ya’ been plannin’ to sneak ‘round the studios playin’ hanky panky wit’ dis green..dis bastard!” He cut her off, slamming his palm against the table as Murdoc emerged from behind her, looking distinctly pleased. He sauntered over to 2D, placing a hand on his shoulder, which was immediately shrugged off. Murdoc took it in stride, surprisingly.
“Dents, faceache, my buddy, pal, I was doing ya’ a favor, yeah? Testing her loyalty, and it isn’t real good, I’ll tell you that.” Paual looked like she was going to interject, face red as a cherry with shame, before 2D stepped in and slapped Murdoc across the face, rage painting his features.
“Wat’ are you talking bout, you bloody sod! You’ves been sleepin’ god knows how long wit’ my gurl, n’ you say it’s bout loyalty? Come off it! You’s doin’ it because pissin’ me off makes ya’ dick ‘ard!”
For a second, he felt like he was finally on the high ground until Murdoc scowled and 2D remembered why he never stood up to the man in the first place. But before Murdoc could act upon his intentions, there was a stomping noise coming from down the stairs, and from it emerged 2D’s savior in baggy pajamas. Russel’s large frame, 2D’s tense body sagged in relief. Murdoc never did anything heinous with the larger man around.
“What’s all this racket bout? Can’t a guy get some sleep before being woken up by some idiots?” He yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eye as his gaze finally rose to assess the situation.
Paula still stood in the doorway, half curled into herself with shame. Murdoc is standing over 2D, hand raised, and 2D is splayed across the wall, conflicting emotions flittering across his face.
“What’s happening?” He asked, mouth a thin line, not giving away anything he was currently feeling. He shifted from one leg to another, his gaze indecipherable; the large white eyes didn’t give anything away, not even where they were looking. 2D pushed himself off the wall, a sneer plastering itself onto his face. The anger crept into his bones like a plague; it poisoned his soul.
“I’ll tell ya’ was’ been happenin’ Paula n’ Murdoc have been crawlin’ all round’ Kong studios, gettin’ it up in bathrooms right under our noses!” 2D spoke, pulling his hair with his large hand and pointing an accusatory finger at the two in question. “I needa’ sit down.” 2D groaned, pulling out a chair and massaging his temples, the pressure building up behind his eyes like it always did.
“Yeah, well, it’s not my fault yer’ girl can’t get satisfied by your baby carrot dents,” Murdoc grunted, cackling lightly under his breath as he approached Russel, arms up. “No hard feelings, aye, Russ? This don’t concern you anyways, I think it’s best if-” Murdoc let out a broken yelp as a large fist connected with his face. Paula screamed, and 2D gripped his head harder, letting out a moan of pain. Murdoc laughed, holding the gushing appendage, the blood trickled steadily onto the floor as his eyes raised to meet Russel’s empty ones. Russel was eerily calm; the only thing that betrayed how he was feeling was his clenched fist, now splattered with fresh blood. “S’ppose I deserved that, yeah?” Murdoc said through the blood as he spit out whatever pooled in his throat. Using the wall, he stood up, letting the blood drip onto the dirty floor. Russel’s attention turned to Paula.
“I think it would be best for everyone if you packed your things and went on your way.” He said, voice low and threatening. Paula nodded frantically, rushing upstairs with the pattering of unclothed feet. “And you,” his gaze turned back to Murdoc, “I better not see your face round her for at least the next week, I can’t kick you outta the place you pay for, but I sure as hell can beat your ass in your own home, you dig?” He spoke, and to this day, Murdoc swears up and down, nothing was scarier than the hulking figure before him.
“Loud and clear,” Murdoc muttered, not meeting Russel’s eye as he sent a discreet glare 2D’s way. He escorted himself out of the room, climbing the stairs quickly to avoid the man’s wrath. With that out of the way, Russel approached 2D, who hadn’t spoken since his little outburst.
“You aight, Dee?” He asked with all the concern his monotone voice could muster. He stood awkwardly by the blue-haired man’s side. His fingers tapped his thigh when the other didn’t respond, and he bit his lip. He nearly left before 2D grabbed his hand, startling him.
“Fanks Russ’,” He muttered, head raising and eyes glassy. “Sorry, do ya’ fink ya’ could help me to my room?” He slurred like a drunk man. Russel stood stock still before rushing into action, grabbing 2D’s arm and supporting him. Paula opened the door before them, staring for a moment before pressing her lips into a thin line and nodding, pushing past them. Russel waited until he heard the front door close before he brought 2D to his bed, laying him down before going to the bathroom and rummaging through the cabinets. It didn’t take long for him to find the bright orange bottle with “migraines” messily scribbled on the side. He walked over to where 2D lay, eyes shut. Russel thought that he looked almost peaceful like this, but he knew the other was feeling anything but, so he brought a pill up to the other’s mouth, watching the man greedily take it. Russel shut the curtains and got to work; the sun shone dimly through the blinds, giving him just enough light to clean up the mess that was 2D’s room.
It was peaceful, for a moment, Russel could forget everything. The fact that he was kidnapped and now a drummer for a sleazy bastard, or the fact that he was the most responsible one in the whole studio. But, as he looked down at 2D, he couldn’t feel any contempt toward the blue-nette. In fact, all he could feel was an overwhelming sense of pity. Here was this boy (And he was just a boy, wasn’t he? Just like Russel was, just like Russel is,) who had been through hell, nearly dying twice, missing half his brain, contracting migraines that rendered him incapable of even moving, and now freshly single, and yet still, he moved, he breathed, he didn’t mutter a single word about wanting to die, or ending someone else’s life. But maybe that was just the drugs he kept himself doped up on. Russel didn’t know.
He found himself lost in thought for a long time, at least, long enough for 2D to be lucid again, staring blankly at Russel, who turned around and jumped, muttering a quick curse.
“Jesus man, you’ve gotta tell a man you’re awake, your eyes are fuckin’ creepy.” He spoke under his breath, sitting at the edge of the bed. 2D brought his legs up to his chest to make space for the larger man. They sat in silence; it wasn’t uncomfortable, just understanding.
“Fanks Russ, again.”
“For what?”
“I dunno, standi–standing up fa’ me, kickin’ ‘er out?” 2D said, the brazen tone he had taken earlier had fallen away rather quickly.
“Don’t worry bout it, man, it felt good to at least get a punch in on the bastard.” Russ huffed, crossing his arms and staring straight ahead. 2D hummed in agreement, lying back down and covering his face with his arm. Russel watched the other man until his breath had evened out and a slight snore punctuated every few inhales. He stood up, watching him for a few moments longer before walking out of the room and shutting the door. Heading to his own room, thankfully not bumping into anyone else, green skin or otherwise. He entered his room, sitting at his desk as he decorated a page, typing quickly until he got up, printing many copies of the ad, looking over his handiwork, he nodded, placing them on the table. The big red letters read “GUITARIST NEEDED! NO HIPPIES”