#and thank you for loving murdoc thank you for giving me a chance to answer these!!! :0

[nelyoslegalteam]

hello i'm here again! i saw your tags on the get to know your characters post and i'd love to hear you talk about murdoc!! (also gondolin campaign 😮 tell me more :DDD )

HIHIHIHIHI IM SO HAPPY YOU'RE IN MY INBOX THANK YOU FOR LOVING MY BOY YOU ARE A GIFT OF A PERSON ;w; i assume you don't mind if i answer these for murdoc then :0

What is the character’s go-to drink order? here's the thing: i think if murdoc is ordering, it's ale. just ale. murdoc is an alcohol snob, largely on account of being a hobbit AND specifically on account of his aunt being a brewer (and so therefore clearly HIS family's ale is the best), so it's an opportunity for him to be just a little bit showily snobbish and judgy and more knowledgeable about his choice of drink than the average patron, but it's not quite so personal to him as, say, tea would be. (murdoc never orders tea. from anywhere. he only drinks his own, or radagast's, or that of a few other trusted friends. tea is his craft. it's personal to him. he picks and dries and blends the herbs for his own brews. it's personal long before he even gets to brewing a cup, and there's meaning in just that act in and of itself already.) so, murdoc gets to be an alcohol snob in public, but it's a matter of showing off for fun. he'll scoff at ale from anywhere but his own inn, but he'll still order it and drink it. and enjoy it more than he puts on a show about.

What is their grooming routine? murdoc likes a long bath. murdoc likes to put a lot of effort into wrangling his hair in particular, when he has the time and effort in him for it. alone, at the inn, where he can rest and take breaks and manage things, shaving the back of his neck is very important to him (sensory comfort, and tied in a way to his sense of self). he doesn't like scents or anything of the sort, he just wants to feel... clean. put-together. both in the privacy and comfort of their respective homes, and while out on the road, letting ríros braid his hair for him becomes a very important part of murdoc's grooming routine. on a good day, it's a visible tie to someone he cares deeply for. on a bad day, it's accepting help with his sensory needs and energy levels, and allowing himself to be taken care of by someone he trusts.

What was their most expensive purchase/where does their disposable income go? oh, murdoc's cloak was ABSOLUTELY the most expensive singular thing he's ever purchased. it may not be real dragon scale, sure but. it's a fine fabric, and the faux scales are well crafted and gorgeous. it's luxurious and sturdy and him in every way. an item with presence. which, to the point, i do think murdoc is generally the sort of person who spends his disposable income on fine things to wear. having fun with and taking pride in his appearance is important to him, and he's financially comfortable enough for that bit of luxury.

Do they have any scars or tattoos? aside from the missing hand (extremely notable), and whatever assorted and unspecified scars he's picked up from adventuring? (which. he has. he's come close to dying before. he's got a few marks.) murdoc has a scar across his nose from some absolutely stupid shit he got up to as an utter hellion of a child. i think he probably fell and bashed his face open running to escape getting caught pulling a prank on farmer maggot or something like that. nothing angsty about it, just complete and utter childhood stupidity and rambunctiousness. something visible left on him from a time before he was overly concerned with responsibility, or duty of care, and entertaining his drive for adventure in much less consequential ways. (he’s also very freckled. i think it’s very adorable how much he freckles.)

What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances? the last time i know for certain that murdoc cried, was after facing irmo. maybe not immediately. maybe much later, on the road home, having spilled the story to his companions and having thoroughly exhausted himself from hanging onto it all. but i'm sure he did cry. from anger at what was done to him, to his dreams, by a power larger than him, without any say of his own in it all. from all his internalization of himself as a weapon finally breaking over, from hearing that perception of himself lovingly rebuffed by the people who care about him. from fully and completely admitting that he's afraid of the person he's made himself in the face of the horrors, but that he would've hated the person he would have been for ignoring them. from exhaustion. from having to question his sense of self yet again. from a lot of things, really. you don't get personally chosen by a god and come away from it quite the same.

Are they an oldest, middle, youngest or only child? oh murdoc is an eldest sibling and it shows. maybe not by actual sibling birth order, but he was adopted by his uncles and aunt as a baby and very much raised as their eldest child. he's got two rascals of younger cousins, raised alongside him, to look out for. they're practically younger siblings from an actual family dynamics standpoint. and besides, he's got all the Eldest Child of being the brandybuck family heir apparent put on him. where else would the responsibility complex and the duty of care complex and the possessiveness over what's his and, most importantly, go-to instinct of sassing the literal servants of sauron have come from? This Man Is An Eldest Child And He Can Do This All Day <3

Describe the shoes they’re wearing. none. Those Feet Are Bare. and hairy. he DOES meticulously wash and brush his foot hair though. but listen. he's a hobbit. he's not FROM a culture that does shoes, and the one (1) time in his life ever that he had to wear them, his only takeaway from the experience is that they are a sensory nightmare that he will not be subjecting himself to under ANY circumstances.

Describe the place where they sleep. ooohhhh i think both at home in the inn and also to the greatest extent on the road possible, murdoc does cozy. i think his (+ his partner's) room at the inn is covered in like. throw pillows. nice big comfy sleeping pillows. lots of soft blankets. it's all very warm and inviting and kinda maximalist in a plush sort of way. i do think he cares about aesthetics and all his pillows and blankets look nice together, but everything is selected with comfort in mind. it's homey. it's warm. he's a hobbit. it's probably not particularly neat, but it's sort of charming in the way where it looks like a space that's meant to be curled up in. he probably accidentally leaves a few stray tea mugs about and this is his worst living space habit, but it adds to the charm as long as he remembers to actually keep up on putting them away (which. he does. he's just on top of it enough to make sure he has clean mugs to actually use for tea, but this may be the only reason he remembers). i think even on the road he'll bring as many blankets as is reasonable to carry and do his utmost not only to make his sleeping space, but the whole camp's, as cozy and welcoming as possible with whatever he has.

What is their favorite holiday? ohh see i don't know if i do know enough about specific hobbitish holidays offhand for this, but in general i do think murdoc is a holidays kind of person. anything sort of extrovert-oriented, where he can feast and dance and get drunk and just be around people, is very much his sort of thing. when he was growing up in the shire, any occasion where gandalf showed up with fireworks was an immediate favorite. for least favorite... i don't know how he feels about new year's (yule, in the hobbitish calendar). i don't think he hates it but. i think he's someone who lives with a bit of a sense of loss over who he was, or might have been, before his dreams and irmo and everything, and i think nostalgia-oriented celebrations grate just slightly up against that.

What objects do they always carry around with them? tea. lots of it. kept in his pockets. (he smells like it. it’s nice.) usually a particular brew (the flavor profile of which i imagine to be something like london fog) that he made for himself, which is very personal to him. a locket with his partner's portrait in it. an ornately carved matchbox, always full of matches, ready to light an arrow or for whatever else he may use his fire for. additionally, on the road: a jar in which he cultivates a toxic fungus, used for coating his weapons in tough battles. a set of his favorite cooking knives. a flask or two of his family’s ale, primarily used in his cooking, as ornate and pretty as all else he owns. (i will also give him that he most always is wearing jewelry, particularly his ruby necklace and earring set. the necklace in particular is important - usually maedhros resides in ríros’ sword, but the necklace is an ideal secondary vessel on the occasions that maedhros does have to remain where murdoc is, and murdoc has selected these pieces in maedhros’ colors for a reason).

as this has gotten LONG i will not try to do them for my new beloved tyelperëkko antar JUST yet. BUT @jaz-the-bard is planning to run a campaign set in gondolin in the first age and i am VERY excited for the character i have made. i’ve given them the oathsworn background. they’re going to be a loyal follower of maeglin, once he exists, but for NOW they’re a devotee of turgon. this is going to go great for them and cause no problems at all (lying).

[refinedbuffoonery]

Looking Through A Window (5)

macriley married undercover au

masterlist.

Admittedly, this is kind of a filler/transition chapter, but I have big plans for this story, and I’m really excited for y’all to read what happens next. Expect an update every weekend this month! 

*****

The nightmare sinks its claws deeper as Mac tries to dislodge it. He knows it’s a dream, and Mac tosses and turns as he grapples for control of his mind. 

The images in his mind persist. He's back in the Sandbox, but this time Bozer is with him, and Bozer's dying from a bullet wound before Mac can carry him to safety. Mac's had the dream a million times, and it always ends the same way. 

I know you won’t let me die, Bozer says. But seconds later, his eyes turn glassy when his soul leaves his body. 

Mac’s throat closes, cutting off his oxygen supply, and for a moment he thinks he’s going to follow Bozer into the afterlife. 

It’s just a dream. He’s just lucid enough to remind himself of that. Wake up, Mac commands his body. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. 

The nightmare won’t let him. 

Suddenly a different set of claws grip Mac’s shoulders, and the voice ordering him to wake up isn’t his own. He tries to jerk away, but the claws dig in. 

Not claws, Mac realizes. Hands. Slender ones, with long fingers. Nails biting into his skin through his worn t-shirt. 

He knows those hands. 

“Wake up,” Riley hisses, and it’s enough to finally yank Mac from his dream. Mac’s eyes snap open, automatically scanning his surroundings. The bedroom is pitch black, but Mac can just make out Riley kneeling above him, her tired face twisted in concern. Her hands are on Mac’s shoulders, but not pinning him to the bed like he first thought. Her touch is light, and her thumbs make gentle sweeps across his collarbones. Mac’s own hands find Riley’s forearms, but he doesn’t push her away, nor does she lay back down. “You okay?” she asks. 

Mac tries to play it off. “Yeah, bad dream. That’s all.” It’s a bit of an exaggeration, considering that he’s drenched in sweat and the final and most disturbing seconds of the dream are lingering longer than the rest. He knows it’s not real, but Mac can’t quite shake the sick feeling. 

Riley exhales, and Mac finds himself mirroring her breathing automatically. Sliding a hand down to her wrist, he presses two fingers into her skin, feeling the steady thrum of her pulse. It’s faster than he expects. 

Almost as if in explanation, Riley says, “You scared the shit out of the dog, not to mention me.” 

Mac winces, feeling guilty. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Slowly, Riley releases him and lays back down, leaving plenty of space between them. Mac misses her touch the instant she lets go. “Want to talk about it?” 

That throat-closing feeling returns as Mac contemplates what to tell her. Part of him wants to share, but a bigger part hesitates when the explanation dies on his tongue. “Not really,” he finally says. 

“Okay.” Riley says, pausing. “You’re wide awake right now, aren’t you?” 

This, at least, he can admit easily. “Yep.” 

There’s another long pause, filled only with the soft sound of their exhales. Just when he’s about to tell Riley to stop worrying about him and go back to sleep, she says, “Come here.” 

Mac stills. That weird tension still lingers between him and Riley, causing awkward silences and stilted conversations. So this…this is unexpected. 

He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. But, her voice is soft and reassuring, and who is he to turn down a free opportunity to cuddle with the woman he loves? Even if it might be a mistake. 

As soon as Mac scoots across the bed, Riley pulls him into her side, guiding his head to rest on her non-injured shoulder. Riley’s side of the bed isn’t nearly as warm as his, but her body is soft and Mac likes how they fit together. Mac can’t help but sigh in contentment as Riley lightly scratches his scalp, and he lets an arm settle over her waist. They’ve fallen asleep together plenty of times over the years, but she’s never held him. Not like this. His heart pounds at the intimacy of it all. 

But as Mac slowly starts to relax, the pulse in his ear doesn’t slow like it should. Because it’s not his heartbeat he’s hearing. 

It’s hers.

Does that mean…?

“So,” Riley says, breaking the silence. “It’s later.” 

The realization feels like a slap to the face. That’s why her heart is beating so fast. Not because of their close proximity, but because it’s later and there’s still that unresolved thing hanging between them. Mac’s fleeting hope that Riley’s racing pulse meant something else is nothing more than a fantasy in his head. 

Swallowing his disappointment, Mac starts, “Riley, I really am sorry—” She cuts him off. 

“Stop. You don’t need to apologize again. I forgave you the first time.” Her fingers sweep behind his ear, making him shiver slightly. “It’s my turn.” Riley takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry for not listening to you. Like, really listening. Your concerns are legit, and I shouldn’t have brushed them aside and followed Matty blindly.” 

Oh. 

“I hate this situation just as much as you do, and I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise.” Her voice catches slightly. “Also, I lied to you this morning, in the car. I knew I needed to apologize. I just didn’t know how to say it yet.” 

Pointedly ignoring the intimacy of the gesture, Mac brushes his thumb over her ribs in a way he hopes is reassuring. “It’s okay.” 

Riley tenses beneath him, and Mac freezes instantly. “It’s not, but thanks for saying that anyway,” she murmurs, relaxing again. Her fingers resume their path through his hair, catching on the occasional tangle. 

Mac doesn’t know how to reassure her that it really is okay. So instead he confesses, “Sometimes I hate this job.” 

She’s quiet for a few long seconds before responding. “Me too.” 

It’s weird voicing it aloud. They’re all painfully aware of the downsides to the job, but rarely does anyone directly mention it. Maybe Riley is on a similar page as him after all. 

Mac questions, “Are we doing the right thing? Playing along and letting innocent people get hurt just so we can take down the whole organization at once?” He needs to know her answer…needs confirmation that this whole op isn’t just one massive wrong choice. 

“I think the good we do outweighs the bad,” Riley says after a few moments. “At least that’s what I tell myself so I can sleep at night.” She shifts, and for a brief, exhilarating moment, their hips press together before she pushes her knee uncomfortably into his thigh. Mac squirms, trying and failing to find a good position, ultimately taking a chance by slotting his leg between hers. Riley inhales sharply, but she doesn’t push him away. Mac tries not to read into it. Lying like this is intimate and intense and yet so easy. So right.

Mac pushes the heady feeling aside, ignoring the way it crackles in the background, threatening to consume him. They need to have this conversation, without distraction. Even welcome ones. 

“Riley, we helped them kill people,” he says, and Riley’s hand stills in his hair. 

“We can’t save everyone, Mac." 

The thrumming in his body stops so quickly Riley might as well have dumped a bucket of ice water on him. 

His heart cracks as she softly repeats, "We just can't." Like maybe she's breaking her own heart too by saying it. 

He wants to kiss her chest—to press his lips to her heart in an attempt to soothe the ache there. 

Mac understands all too well. It’s not the countless lives they have saved that stick with him, but the few they couldn’t. Zoe, the researcher who drowned in the Arctic to save her students. Jill, who fell victim to one of Murdoc’s murderous games. Charlie, who sacrificed himself so Mac wouldn’t have to choose between saving his friend and saving hundreds of innocent people. Lasky, the nuclear plant engineer who was just doing his job. Mac’s father. His aunt. Jack. 

Riley clears her throat. "So, yeah. I think we are doing the right thing. It just sucks.” 

Mac agrees, even though he can hardly admit it to himself. But there’s still one thing he doesn’t understand. “I don’t get how Matty seemed so okay with all of this,” he says. 

“Come on, Mac. You know Matty hates this just as much as we do. She wouldn’t ask us to play along if she didn’t think it was necessary.” Riley’s fingers resume their steady, sweeping path through his hair, and Mac takes comfort in the gesture. 

He sighs. “You sound like Jack.” 

“I learned from the best. Don’t tell him I said that,” Riley warns, but Mac can hear the smile in her voice. 

He tilts his face toward the ceiling, imagining Jack looking down at them from whatever afterlife he found himself in. “You hear that, old man? She admitted to learning something from you.” 

Riley snorts, giving Mac’s hair a sharp tug. “Oh shut up.” She means it to be playful, but it sends a bolt of desire through his body. 

It’s too much, with her hand in his hair and their bodies intertwined, and the intimacy may very well burn Mac alive. Every nerve in his body goes on high alert, and his grip on Riley’s rib cage tightens automatically. 

“Sleep,” she murmurs, clearly mistaking the tension in his body as coming from somewhere—anywhere—else. Riley is one of the smartest, most perceptive people Mac knows, and yet she has no idea how he feels about her. Maybe that’s a good thing, he reasons. It’s easier that way. Less complicated. 

Although full-on front-to-front cuddling isn’t not complicated. 

It doesn't take long for the gentle pressure of Riley's fingers to win out, and Mac melts into her touch, letting his body grow heavy. Sleep beckons, and his eyelids flutter shut of their own accord as Riley wraps her free arm around his back, pulling him closer. Again, he thinks she feels like safety. 

In his last moments of consciousness, Mac mumbles, “I like this,” before drifting back to sleep.

*****

For the first time, Riley is already out of bed when Mac wakes, and he’s positive it has something to do with the fact that he’s still on her side of the bed. 

Cuddling with her was a mistake. Even if it led to the best sleep he’s had in a long time. 

Burying his face in Riley’s pillow, Mac takes a deep breath. It smells like her. He hears the front door open and close, and then Riley’s muffled voice fills the apartment. Mac can’t quite pick up what she’s saying, but he thinks she’s on the phone rather than talking to Harley. 

Suddenly getting up seems like a daunting task. 

Not caring if it makes him a coward, Mac stays in bed, taking the opportunity to study the bedroom decor. This is day nine of the op, and before now Mac never bothered to appreciate the work someone put into setting up the safe house. It’s too modern and minimalist for his taste, but he has to admit it looks nice. The bedroom walls are a soft light gray, with a handful of paintings of different sizes and framed photos of him, Riley, and Harley scattered throughout. More of the photos Bozer took are in the hallway, but Mac’s never given those more than a cursory glance. 

Across from the bed sits the single, expensive-looking dresser, with overstuffed drawers that don’t quite shut all the way. One of Riley’s drawers is completely open, and the t-shirt she wore to bed last night hangs haphazardly over the edge. 

Mac’s eyes catch on the photo sitting on top of the dresser, beside the plant he keeps forgetting to water. It’s one of the wedding photos, and it’s the only photo Mac has really paid attention to, since he stares at it every day while getting dressed. The photo is of Riley and him slow dancing, and she’s looking at him like he hung the moon. And he’s looking at her the exact same way. 

More than anything, Mac wishes it was real. 

The bedroom door creaks open, and Mac cranes his neck to see Harley’s fluffy head peek through. She doesn’t enter. Instead, Harley watches him cautiously, almost like she wasn’t expecting him to be awake and is now unsure what to do. 

Mac pats the mattress. “It’s okay. Come on.” When she doesn’t move, he adds, “I’m sorry I scared you last night.” His apology must be enough, because Harley jumps on the bed with him. She stands between his outstretched legs as Mac rakes his hands through her fur, scratching her butt the way she likes. “How about I get you a new toy to make up for it?” he asks. Tail wagging, Harley licks his face in approval, and Mac laughs. “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Riley raises her voice—she’s complaining about something, although Mac still can’t determine what—and both Mac and Harley turn their attention to the sound. 

Harley looks back at him, and Mac starts to think that he wasn’t far off the other day when he noticed Harley playing protector. He smiles softly. “Go check on her.” 

Harley jumps off the bed immediately, surprising Mac when she glances back at him on her way out the door. 

Still smiling, Mac gets up to start his day.

By the time he emerges from the bedroom, Riley is playing fetch with Harley in the living room while she’s on the phone. Surprised the call has lasted this long, Mac raises his brow, silently asking who she’s talking to, and Riley holds up a finger. One second. 

While he’s waiting, Mac wanders into the kitchen in search of breakfast. 

Riley’s next throw ricochets off the wall, and the tennis ball hits Mac’s thigh. “What do you mean he’s not in the database?” she shrieks. “Bozer, practically every criminal in the world is in that database.” 

Mac freezes midway through unwrapping a muffin. 

Riley pinches her nose. “Then run the sketch through the DMV database. The guy who tailed me has to exist somewhere.” 

He swallows. “Tailed?” 

“Hang on, Boze. Mac just walked in.” Exasperated, Riley moves her phone away from her face. “I took Harley for a walk while you were still asleep, and some guy tailed me. Don’t worry, I lost him long before returning to the apartment.” 

Mac bristles. Riley had been in danger, and he was asleep. Why didn’t she tell him where she was going? He tries not to think about all the bad things that could’ve happened. “You think this guy is part of the Patriots?” 

Shrugging, Riley says, “That makes the most sense. But it’s hard to know for sure when we don’t have personnel records.” 

That’s just one of many problems with this op—no official list of known members of the Patriots. Mac and Riley have no choice but to learn about people the old-fashioned way. 

Pinning her phone between her cheek and her shoulder, Riley retrieves the tennis ball from under the couch, her voice muffled as she asks, “Got anything, Boze?” A few seconds later, she groans, but Mac can’t tell whether it’s because of Bozer’s answer or the amount of hair now stuck to the visibly soggy tennis ball in her hands. He makes a mental note to vacuum again. “Thanks for trying,” she says before hanging up. 

Treading carefully, Mac asks, “Well?” He doesn’t need to be a genius to know that she’s still rattled, no matter how much she tries to downplay it. 

“His name is Peter Morrison, and he has three speeding tickets. That’s it.” Still holding the tennis ball, Riley’s shoulders slump as she sits on the arm of the couch. Confused why she stopped playing, Harley stands between Riley’s legs and whines, nosing Riley’s hand in an attempt to get her to throw the ball again. 

When Riley doesn’t oblige her, Mac asks, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” Riley says, but her voice is tight and she bristles when he moves closer. He knows she’s lying—they’ve both been lying a lot recently—but what Mac doesn’t understand is why. He knows why he’s lying, but why does Riley still feel the need to hide how she’s feeling from him? 

It’s like the intimacy of last night never happened. 

Mac takes the wet, hairy tennis ball from her hands and throws it for Harley. “Do you want a hug or help kicking someone’s ass?” The question earns him a small smile, one that makes Mac’s heart flutter in his chest. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of punching someone in the face, but I suppose we can kick them too,” she quips. Mac laughs, and the corners of Riley’s eyes crinkle as her smile widens. 

“Sounds like a plan.” Harley brings the ball back and drops it at Mac’s feet. “Last throw,” he tells her, knowing full well it won’t be. Turning his attention back to Riley, he asks, “How’s your shoulder?”

Absent-mindedly, Riley’s fingers trace the outline of a bruise peeking out from beneath her tank top. “It hurts. You grabbed it in your sleep last night, and I almost screamed.” 

Mac grimaces. “Sorry.” He wants to ask about last night and make sure they’re okay, but the words refuse to form. “I’m going to call Conrad and make him explain, okay?” 

“Okay.” Riley nods. For a second, it seems like she wants to say something more, but she ultimately doesn’t. Honoring her implicit request for space, Mac briefly squeezes her arm as he walks away. The gesture is a promise: I’m here.

*****

“This is unacceptable,” Mac growls at Ethan, later that day. After giving Conrad an earful over the phone, apparently Mac made a big enough fuss to warrant a visit from the leader of the Patriots himself. They meet in public—neutral ground—at a park not unlike the one across the street from Mac and Riley’s apartment. It feels wrong to use the term safe house, since it’s not as safe as they thought. 

“I’m sorry you feel that way, James,” Ethan placates. “It’s simply standard business procedure. I’m sure you researched us before formally offering your services.” 

Mac barely stops himself from making a face. Oh they researched the Patriots, all right. “Of course we did.” He really should do a better job of holding his snark at bay, but Mac lets it tint his words anyway. “But we didn’t invade individual members’ privacy or threaten anyone’s personal safety.” 

“My employee did not and would not have hurt your wife. She was never in danger, I can assure you.” 

“And how was she supposed to know that?” He’s borderline yelling, but Mac is too pissed to care. The more Ethan tries to convince him the situation is okay, the more Mac wishes they were closer to the playground so he could strangle Ethan with the chain from the swings. He snarls, “Explain that to me.” 

Ethan, it seems, is at a rare loss for words. Mac waits, forcing the other man to fill the silence. “I suppose she wouldn’t have,” Ethan finally admits, although he shows no sign of backing down. 

Mac stands. “Don’t let this happen again.” He starts to walk away, content with having the last word, but Mac stops dead in his tracks when Ethan calls after him. 

“If you won’t comply with the way we do things, then I guess we’ll just have to find someone else.” 

Mac spins on his heel. “That’s bullshit,” he spits. “You need us. You won’t find anyone better, at least not that you can afford, and we both know it. Your organization is small potatoes right now, but with our support, the Patriots could join the big leagues. So it’s up to you to decide whether you’re content with throwing your money at a pipe dream or if you want to actually accomplish something.” Ethan is taller than him, but Mac manages to look down at him anyway—something he learned from Matty. “The choice is yours. Let me know when you’ve made it.” 

Without waiting for a response, Mac shoves his hands in his pockets and walks away, praying he didn’t just ruin the whole op.

.

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[ftstorm]

My take on 5x10

Welp, that was a big one!

You know, before going into this episode I reminded myself this was the first episode of a new era, the first episode completely made by the new team.

So with that in mind my expectations were "Okay, let's see what they've got."

And oh boy did they surprise me.

DISCLAIMER: this text post is long af, not kidding.

1. THE INTRO SCENE.

You guys have no idea how glad I am that we got Mac doing a usual MacGyvering in his house. It's been ages since they implemented this format of showing his dynamics outside Phoenix and around his house.

I wasn't worried about the proposal thing at all. Guys, you have to accept that MacRiley was always going to happen after that 4x04 episode.

There was also the fact that this was the intro scene (usually the most important plot issues happen in the outro scene), Bozer's weird reaction and the melancholic audio cue.

If that proposal was happening, they would've made it more uplifting.

(I gotta say that watching Monica Marcer and the official MacGyver account making damage control in Twitter 3mins into the episode was a funny experience)

So my initial questions about Mac wanting to propose were: "what are his motivations?" and "how is this not going to work out by the end of the episode?"

The second question we got the answer later on. The first question remains unanswered. If we take on Mac's words, he says:

Mac: Unexpected, I know, I know. But that's why I like about it. You know ever since I lost my dad and Jack I've been thinking about the bigger picture. A commitment to make things work it's exactly what Desi and I need. A grand romantic gesture. *cue melancholic music*

Here we're presented with a bunch of things worth analysing, in my opinion.

He's trying to see the "bigger picture" which, for me, it means he's trying to tackle down different issues from his life with one specific, efficient action [the proposal]. Those issues being:

> his current romantic relationship: make is aware they have an inconsistent relationship > his performance at work: he needs balance between his personal affairs and his work, which is based on saving the world in a daily basis and for that he needs to be focused. > dealing with his past losses: to my understanding, saying "ever isn I lost my dad and Jac I've been thinking about the bigger picture" means that he doesn't want hopelessness to take over him, he wants to keep on moving and being proactive about his life.

So... you have to understand that in some sort of way, this proposal thing is a signal that Mac is healing. In some sort of way, if you were in Mac's shoes you would see that it was a positive thing for him. A step forward.

The thing is, we [the audience] have an extended understanding of the situation and we know that an engagement would be an incredibly rushed decision.

As well as it is that Mac's trying to move forward, he obviously hasn't been able to pinpoint the true issue behind his relationship with Desi. He isn't wrong about them lacking in the commitment department, but forcing the relationship to scalate isn't the right move. He should be asking himself: "Why are we avoiding commitment?"

And that's when he'd find out that they have very deep and important trust and communication issues.

~~~~

2. Moving on. MURDOC.

Russ: I can process it more efficiently by having it all spread out ahead me, you know. I reckon see the bigger picture at once.

This is when I realized that the episode was centered on this whole "bigger picture" idea. Russ struggles to see the full picture until the very end and Mac finds out that he hasn't been seeing the full picture of his life at all by the end of the episode.

Fast forward, the team's in Mexico, Riley knows about the ring already and she has already had the talk with Bozer in which she refers to her feelings for Mac in a past tense.

Then Murdoc appears.

And as if the episode wasn't already a rollercoaster after Mac's reveal, now Murdoc shows up to put everything upside down.

First I gotta say, man Dastmalchian is SUCH A GOOD MURDOC. Excellent actor. The way he delivers his lines, his facial expressions, all of it make an original and very entertaining Murdoc.

He always gives me such a Andrew Scott's Moriarty vibes and I love it.

Secondly, his dynamic with Andrews: *cheff kiss*

I loved how Andrews was so over Murdoc's theatrics, to the point his facial expression screamed "Why did I even reclute this guy" LOL.

Back to the story.

This is something I was hoping it wouldn't happen but at the same time I don't see another way it could've happened which is the explanation behind Murdoc's escape and how Phoenix didn't know about it.

Because what they told us is that the FBI didn't let them in on Murdoc's escape, right? Does that imply that the FBI has a corrupt agent in charge? Does it imply that the order of not letting Phoenix in came from above? Maybe someone with higher clearence than Matty? A politician? Governement conspiracy?

It smells like plot hole, tbh. I feel like the Murdoc's escape is a classic "it is what it is". We'll see if they come back to this in later episodes.

~~~~

3. BIG SECRET REVEAL 1.

By now we're at the point of the rollercoaster where you're going up and up and up. Your tension building more and more as you're getting close to the drop.

Bozer and Riley's audio was the drop.

You know, during this scene I jumped from my seat, closed my eyes, cringed, squealed, my heart accelarated, forgot how to breathe...

As a person who is a little bit bipolar when it comes to romance (I can be very shy about it or very outspoken about it) that scene made me SO UNCOMFORTABLE.

Imagine having your feelings exposed not only to the person you have feelings for but also his girlfriend who happens to be your friend, your boss and the criminal that's threatening to kill hundreds of people.

I was like: "Not like this!!"

And Mac's reaction didn't help because of the lack of it. I don't know what I expected but his slightly monotone reaction broke my heart.

Thankfully, I've recovered since then and I don't mind that it happened that way.

Still, imagine how suffocating it must've been for Riley. That idea was what made me so uncomfortable and I think that's what they were going for. They wanted to make it as straightforward and awkward as possible.

But it doesn't end there. It's followed by Mac revealing the ring to Desi (and Riley). Mac's in "fuck it" mood and Desi kinda panics.

Little side note here, using GUM and a DIAMOND to break a bullet proof glass... BIG YES. That's an intrinsic MacGyverism.

~~~~

4. BIG SECRET REVEAL 2.

Then we get a breather from this drama by introducing another drama, Leanna's death.

Bozer's reaction to the news was heartbreaking for my already heartbroken heart.

I have my suspicions as to why they decided to kill her... The other episode completely made by the new team was the Quarantine one (5x06). During that episode Mac and Bozer bond over Bozer's pain. After learning about Bozer's mom, Mac chooses to share a piece of his own pain with him.

So, hear me out, I think they writers are planning to help Mac process his own grief THROUGH Bozer's grief. Keep in mind that we still have a Bozer centered episode coming up.

This is just a theory. I may be wrong, but I think it may be right too.

Back to the episode.

Once again we see a three dimensional Russ. He does something accordingly to his own judgement thinking it's the right decision [hiding Leanna's death], he realizes he screwed up, he gives Bozer a very heartfelt apology about it.

Henry's acting talent shone with this narrative. Actually, most of the actors had the chance to shine THANKS to the NARRATIVE. Murdoc, Andrews, Desi, Mac, Russ and Bozer... they all had their highlight moments (I'll talk about Riley later).

Parenthesis here... THE NARRATIVE HAS RETURNED THEIR SOULS TO OUR DEAR CHARACTERS!

WOW, they aren't brooding, angry, sad or whiny ALL THE EFFIN TIME. ABOUT TIME!

~~~~

5. LAST ACT.

For the third or fouth time in this episode my heart broke again when Mac was friendly towards Riley, after she explained herself. It really felt like he was friendzoning her.

But here's something to point out. Riley visibly relaxed when he reacted that way. What does that tell us?

> She had been so tense up until that point. Imo, she's on the defensive now. You can even see it in her wardrobe, make up and hairstyle choices. They're very contrasting to Riley's most vulnerable moments in this show (like when Audrey broke up with her).

Riley has had a year to sort out her feelings. We see in this episode that she spoke about them in a past tense. Whether she achieved it or not is unknown. We just know that she has at least tried to move on.

> She was mostly afraid of ruining her close relationship with Mac (who's her only family, along with Bozer) and her friendship (?) with Desi. We've seen it over and over again: Riley DID NOT WANT to get in the middle of them.

Keep that in mind as we go in the last scene.

It took me a while to figure out a possible thread of thought inside Mac's mind. Why did he look at the ring and decided to go to Riley's house? It really didn't make sense to me.

One moment he was thinking about his proposal and somehow that lead to him having the necessity to know if Riley still had feelings for him? Why??

My theory is that he went to her apartment for permission.

His question was a way of asking Riley for permission to propose to Desi. It was a way of reassuring himself that proposing was still the right decision.

In a way, he could also be fishing for an excuse to not do it [the proposal].

Because now he has doubts. He's confused, unsure.

Mac asks:

Mac: Hiding your emotions and letting it pass. Did it go away?

What could her answer have been? Here I wanna go back again to Riley being emotionally defensive, added her strong desire of not wanting to be in the middle of Mac and Desi's relationship.

I think she would've said "Yes, it worked."

Because it also lines up with my idea that the love triangle has changed from "Riley's a better match for Mac" to "Mac needs to win Riley's heart".

Riley's done her job. She worked out her feelings. Now it's time for Mac to sort out his humongously messed up internal self and reignite her spark. That's what I think.

Also, if anyone has any idea on how the song that played in that scene relates with the moment please share it with me because I don't really understand the song choice lol.

~~~~

6. ADDITIONAL COMMENTS

Desi. I'm not sure what's going on in her mind. She seemed stressed out by the ring, very serious about Riley, lenient with Mac... I'm really not sure.

My guess would be that she doesn't want that type of commitment but she wants to be with Mac yet she can't ignore Riley so does that mean she has to end it with Mac? That's the thought process she may have had? Idk...

I'm glad they let her be mature about it, with no overreactions, no whining, no blaming, nothing of that style that we're used to see in her.

I'm also glad about that moment when she defeats Murdoc and Andrews. THAT'S HOW YOU WRITE A TOUGH DESI. It was filmed with such a gracefulness and elegance. I liked it.

From a MacDesi point of view, she's probably being open minded and giving him space and waiting for him to come back to her... but somehow I got the vibe that she's actually... running away?

Lastly but no less important.

THE HISPANIC REPRESANTION OMG. RUSS SPEAKING SPANISH AND THAT CUMBIA MUSIC FILLED MY HEART WITH SO MUCH PRIDE!!! :')

[greywindys]

Hi! I checked out The Answer last night and the one-on-one conversation that Muds and Noodle had near the end got me so emotional! The discussion about lost family and the vulnerability and uneasiness was a perfect mix of sweet and heartbreaking 💔 The realization Muds had about him and Noodles similarities regarding their lost families was so bittersweet. Ive always liked the idea of their backgrounds pre-band as kinda foils for each other. Noodle growing up in a soldier trainee camp 1/2

w/22 other kids but in a comparably more loving environment(a pic in roto with her former guardian suggests her there wasn’t completely miserable) while Muds grew up in a more conventional setting w/ just his dad and brother but abused and neglected. I like to hc they bond over the curiosity regarding the whereabouts of his mom and her campmates/biofam even though they feel differently about them. Muds feels he’ll never get closure while Noodle is still hopeful hers our out there somewhere 2/2

Hey there! You're not the first person to highlight that conversation to me, and it gets me so psyched because it was one of my favorite conversations to write in the entire fic due to how many layers of emotions I was able to stack up on top of each other haha.

Tbh, Noodle is another Gorillaz character who I don't like. I especially disliked her during P5, and continue to do so to this day lmao. HOWEVER, I always find myself fascinated by how her character relates to Murdoc. They both lead isolated existences due to their respective backgrounds, which makes it difficult to relate to people like 2D and Russel who have, afaik, "normal" families. The conventional image we have of childhood - being raised by two loving parents, going to school, celebrating early milestones, all of that is foreign to them. So they have this sort of shared experience, but due to completely different circumstances.

Like you said, they both share the grief of losing family, or missing what they never had. So in TA, it was very clear to me why Noodle would want to know about Murdoc's mom, because in her eyes, Murdoc is her family, therefore his mother would be her family. Murdoc is kind of cold to her about this because he assumes she doesn't love him the way his mother did, hence why he opens up about wanting to stay with her. Ultimately Noodle agrees with him about this and starts to challenge him about leaving on another trip with 2D, which opens his eyes to the fact that they're both searching for the same thing. I give Noodle a lot more insight than him in this convo because it makes sense that she'd be much wiser than her age due to her life with them. Like, him, she never really had the chance to be a kid.

Outside of TA, yeah, ia that he's probably given up on finding his mother or expecting any sort of serious conversation from this father. Noodle is more of a mystery. It's been a while since I read ROTO, but I remember leaving with the impression that she had her closure on her solo trip to Japan...whenever that was.I don’t know where she would go from there, but admittedly, I don’t think about her that much.

Thanks for stopping by with your thoughts! And ty for reading TA!

[saintsurvivors]

I love your writing. Especially "teeth which bite, wounds that never heal" that one is amazing. Can you maybe do MacDoc+ I didn't know where else to go?

No. 50 “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Ah! Thank you so much, fam, honestly, I’m so thankful that people really seem to like teeth which bite, it’s like my baby at this point you know?

Mac isn’t a stranger to being awoken by strange noises in the middle of the night; a byproduct of being an insomniac and being naturally paranoid, with which being both an EOD and an agent had dialed up to almost a thousand. Still, he finds himself stilling, the soldering pen in his hand stopping just as it was about to touch the stripped mobile phone motherboard, his magnifying lamp the only source of light in his room.

There it goes again, a heavy bang on the deck doors, another one not soon after. Mac shoots upright, makes sure to prop the soldering pen on it’s stand so he doesn’t cause a fire. He does however, grab the heavy duty baseball bat that Bozer had given to him, when he started spending more nights with Leanna, because apparently Bozer is just as much of a mother hen as Jack and doesn’t believe Mac will defend himself if he needs to.

A faint shout, and Mac ducks from his room, into the hallway, from this angle he can’t really see anything; too dark and too much in the way. Hands twisting themselves into a ready position, Mac crouches, slowly moving, staying out of the shaft of moonlight he can see just around the corner.

The deck doors withstand another heavy blow, and Mac takes the chance, ghosts around the corner-

He straightens in shock, bat falling from one hand. 

“Shit,” He curses, discards the bat by the door as he grabs the keys just to the side to open the deck doors. He’s barely able to catch the bloodied man that staggers into his arms, heavy and muscled, smelling of cinnamon, gunpowder and blood. “Hey, hey, Murdoc, c’mon, answer me.”

Murdoc gives a heavy groan, and he’s able to grab ahold of Mac’s shoulder, heaving himself almost upright. He’s guarding the right side of his ribs, a motion Mac is more than familiar with. They manage a strange two step, heading into the living room, because Murdoc seems like he’s one stiff breeze from falling down entirely, and Mac curls his fingers around the loops of Murdoc’s waist band as he attempts to him.

“Very sorry about this, my dear Angus,” Murdoc wheezes, and Mac can feel the warm seep of blood on his shoulder, and thinks gunshot wound. “But I wasn’t sure about where else to go, and I then I thought of you, my dear, delightful boy scout. I would have texted but unfortunately, my phone is toast.”

“You look like you’ve been through the ringer, Murdoc,” Mac points out, ignoring the heat he feels rising in his cheeks. He heaves a grunt when he’s able to get Murdoc to the couch, helps steady him as Murdoc slowly leans backwards, still guarding those ribs, and then later clutching at his shoulder, where blood spills freely. Mac kneels between his thighs, using one of the shirts Mac had left hanging over the back of the couch and pressing it against the wound. Murdoc groans, but he’s looking at Mac.“Have you been shot anyway else?”

When Mac looks at his face, one hand on the wound and another keeping his balance on Murdoc’s thigh, Murdoc is smiling, pupils wide and liquid coal in the shaft of moonlight as the clouds shift. His face is etched with pain, but he reaches out with his free hand, still slick with blood. Mac stills.

Murdoc curls those blood damp fingers around the cliff of Mac’s jaw, and Mac shudders at the feel of the wet warmth there, feels how Murdoc smears the swell of his thumb beneath Mac’s eye. He can’t help but to lean into the tender touch.

“Oh, how delectable you look, dear boy scout, covered in someone else’s blood.”

That thumb dips, shifts, and the blood tacky thumb presses against the swell of his bottom lip. Mac can taste blood, old pennies, and gunpowder.

[ask2d]

Gorillaz frontman 2D joins bassist Murdoc Niccals in an exclusive chat with fans online to answer their questions. 

Anonymous: What do you and your band mates do before a show?

Murdoc: I take a preshow shot and try to keep 2D from puking in the garbage can. It ruins the vocal cords, you know?

2D: I don’t ALWAYS puke in the garbage can, sometimes it’s in the toilets.

Anonymous: What are your favorite things to do with fans when you’re not playing shows?

Murdoc: I know this might sound a tad bit strange, given the context for when I last…did a radio show, but I’d rather fancy doing it again—the fans always seem to soak that rrrrigghhhttt up.

2D: I like doing stuff like this ‘cos they get to ask us whatever they want, it feels more personal I think. I wasn’t part of a lot of Murdoc’s pirate show since he kept me in the basement. A couple days weren’t bad, but most of ‘em were.

Murdoc: Want me to do it again, then?

2D gives Murdoc a look of confusion and slight concern.

2D: No.

Anonymous: I hear Muds is answering some questions with you! That’s pretty neat. :) Hmm, 2D, What’s the best/worst practical joke you’ve played on someone or that was played on you?

2D: One time Murdoc tipped off the bobbies and told ‘em I was the Zodiac Killer. I didn’t know what was happening at first but then they wouldn’t stop asking me questions for the next few weeks. They finally quit sometime after the SWAT team showed up, see, I think Murdoc had something to do with that too.

Murdoc clears his throat to mask a laugh.

Murdoc: I was just joshing, I thought maybe it was a good time to end it when the SWAT team showed up to take 2D away…

2D: I’m glad you didn’t let them. That was nice of you, they were scary.

Murdoc: I only didn’t let them in because I thought they were there for me.

Anonymous: alongside the album, 2D released copies of his song journal. it was very interesting seeing your process, 2D! could you elaborate on the images we see in it, and what you were feeling when you rewrote some lyrics in big text? murdoc, have the two of you gotten the chance to discuss the album with 2D?

2D taps the tips of his fingers together while his expression becomes more concentrated; he looks like he’s trying to remember something.

2D: Mmh, ya know, I think a lot of it was just me observing the world and things I seen in it. I do lots of scribbles to help me concentrate on what the subject is…I always get really distracted when I see a spider on the wall or think there’s a piece of pizza floating by my window.

Murdoc, being very blunt: The idiot couldn’t read his own lyrics, so he wrote them out bigger.

2D: This part is for me, Murdoc. I guess I just liked certains lines so I wanted to make ‘em stand out! I hope it worked.

Murdoc rolls his eyes.

2D: I actually played the album for him when he got home, ‘cos I wanted to see his reaction in person.

Murdoc shifts uncomfortably and tucks his hands underneath his armpits, while 2D bounces his leg out of nervous habit.

Murdoc: Yeah, we’ve talked about it and frankly, I’m glad something good could be made in my absence.

2D: When he said he liked it I got really shocked. With him being gone I taught myself how to be uh, a leader, and got to try being in the spotlight a lot. I liked it—for the most part. Sometimes the stage lights were too bright though. That sucked.

Niccals bites his tongue, holding something back before the next question.

Anonymous: How have things been since you returned home, Murdoc?

Murdoc: Just swell. I’ve been mostly in a comatose like state while I recover from my adventures in the mountains. Ah, but not for much longer! Gorillaz has got a hot new deal; we’re going to have our own tv show! 

2D: Yea, yea! Jamie, who directs all our videos, said he’s finally got some things under his belt.

@punpkin-314-pi: how was halloween/noodle’s birthday?

2D: Really good! I made her this playlist on Spotify and we ate her favorite Japanese candy while we watched a scary movie.

Murdoc: I made a special trip into Hell and got Noodle this cool hellfire lava lamp. She always talked about how she wanted one—or maybe she didn’t, I don’t remember.

@xxtimber-the-killerxx​: D, I don’t know what to do. I feel so alone. I just want to sit and sip my tea and play sombre music. Could I get some encouragement? I hate having to ask, but you’re my inspiration. 

2D: I love drinking tea and listening to music! Actually, I do that all the time. But it’s not a bad thing, yea? And ya see, I think that’s where you start to find that you’re not really ever alone. You’re not alone because someone will always have the same interests as you or even understand how you feel, or whatever! Sometimes, I think…I think it’s the simple things that can make us the happiest. And things don’t have to be complicated for you to enjoy it. 

Anonymous: uhhhhhhhhhhhh can i live with u guys???? also tell noodle i said hi pwease 

 Murdoc: No. 

2D immediately pulls out his cell phone and dials a number, waiting patiently as it rings. 

 2D: Hey—hey Noodle! I’m doing this interview with Murdoc and one of our fans wanted me, well us, to tell you hi. So…hi! 

Noodle, on the phone: Naze anata wa denwa shimashita ka? Watashi wa isogashī nda! Watashi wa kao no masuku o kite iruto watashi wa Katsu o nadete iru! Watashi o hottoite! Oh, Kon'nichiwa! 

“Why are you calling me? I’m busy! I’m wearing a face mask and petting Katsu! Leave me alone–oh, hi!!!”

 2D, silent for a moment: She said, uh…her and Katsu say hi. 

 Murdoc: I thought she said something about cutlets… 

 2D: Oh, I wanna talk about cutlets. 

Anonymous: for Murdoc and 2D: aaaaah can I kiss both of you, you guys are so cutteeee ❣️💋 

Murdoc: You’ll cream yourself 2D—am I allowed to say that? Will that be off the books? No? Yeah, alright, what I said still stands, and we don’t want you making an absolute buffoon of yourself right? 

 2D: …I’m not gonna jizz myself. 

Anonymous: Tell us a story from Jamaica!

2D: When did we go to Jamaica again?

Murdoc: Oh, oh! I’ve got one that will really get you rolling! I was wasted and it was blistering hot outside, right? Well-Well, there was this really friendly Jamaican man chatting 2D and me up and…er…uh…mmmgh…why don’t you take the reins, D?

2D: Uh…all I can recall is Murdoc talking about a freesome and getting his nipple twisted by the Jamaican guy.

Murdoc: Threesome. But, yes, that was uh…the highlights.

Murdoc: My face has a date with destiny, I’ll see you on the big screen, or I suppose, just bigger because I’ll be on the telly…and not the movie screen—you remember, our movie got scrapped. 

2D: Uhh, yea, whatever he just said. Thank you! Cheery-bye!

[our-smooty]

Take Me to Church Chapter 25: Homecoming

Fandom: Gorillaz

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: 2doc

Tags: Car Accidents Angst Hurt/Comfort Drugs/Alcohol Implied/Referenced Suicide SuicideHealing Everything Hurts

Summary: The band is back together, but things are… weird to say the least. But when a crisis arises, can they pull it all together and be a family again?

Link to other Chapters on my Blog!

Stu waited outside the door with bated breath. The drummer was a little more calm, playing around on his phone as he waited. 2D had his hands up in front of his face, wiggling his fingers anxiously. He’d told the bassist so many times that Noodle wouldn’t be mad but he was still nervous. What if he’d been wrong, what if Murdoc couldn’t handle seeing her what if--

His spiral of over-thinking was cut off by the muffled sound of laughter coming from inside the room. Russel looked up and smiled a little as the singer’s head whipped towards the door.

“Sounds like it’s goin’ well then,” Russel commented, going back to his phone. 2D’s anxious wiggling turned into happy wiggling. He really, really wanted to run into the room and see what was going on. He went to open the door, but the drummer stopped him with a hand on the shoulder, a gentle reminder to let Murdoc handle this.

“But Russ I wanna go in!” he whined, giving the other man puppy dog eyes. Russel was unmoved, very used to 2D’s antics.

“Wait a bit D, give them some time.” 2D huffed but stood aside, tapping his foot. Russel shook his head at him; Stu knew he was acting like a child, but he just couldn’t wait! He’d spent weeks coaching Murdoc through his feelings about the accident and holding the bassist when the anxiety became too much. Murdoc had done the same for him every time the singer came home from a visit and was worn out. He felt like he couldn't wait another second.

It wasn’t long before the door opened and a smiling Murdoc emerged. He didn’t say anything but ushered them inside with a wave before popping back inside. Stu was through the door and walking up to Noodle’s bed before Russ had had a chance to put his phone away.

“Hello Noodle!” he cried, giving her a big hug. She looked so much better, even from the last time he’d seen her a few days ago. Murdoc was sitting in a chair on her other side, one of his gnarled hands grasped in hers and the biggest smile Stu had ever seen on his face.

“Hello 2D,” she greeted as they separated. “And hello Russel!”

“Hey baby-girl, how’re you feeling?”

Noodle shrugged and sighed. “I feel fine, but the doctors still won’t let me go outside.” she was pouting a lot like the singer had been outside the door.

“D’you want us to sneak you out?” Murdoc offered, gesturing to the wheelchair in the far corner. “I'm sure we could manage it with not too much disaster.” 2D noticed he was slurring his words a little. Maybe he shouldn’t have given him all those pills...

“I’m putting an end to this now,” Russel said before Noodle could respond. “You, Noodle, need to rest. And you, Muds, need to be a better role model.”

Murdoc rolled his eyes but made no move to get the wheelchair. “Fine fine, looks like our great escape is delayed until kill-joy over here isn’t around.” He was still smiling, and it made 2D want to smile too. Stu felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders as he watched the other’s chat, occasionally chiming in himself with a little tidbit here and there. Noodle was busy updating them on all the juicy hospital gossip--it’s so boring in here, she had to do something--when she interrupted herself.

“Actually, I meant to ask,” she said, her smile morphing into a knowing smirk. “How long have you two been an item?”

Immediately, both Murdoc and 2D froze. “Uh, what’d you mean love? 2D asked.

Noodle rolled her eyes again. “Oh come on, you don’t think Russel didn’t tell me everything?”

“Oh did he now?” Murdoc glared hazily at the drummer, who threw up his hands.

“I didn’t know it was supposed to be a secret. Not like you two have been quiet about it anyway.” 2D was beet red from his neck to his hairline. Murdoc wasn’t fairing much better, having let go of Noodle’s hand to cover his face.

Noodle was laughing again. “Don’t get mad at Russel. If he hadn’t told me, I would have known just by looking at you two!”

“Is it that obvious?” 2D whined. He and Murdoc hadn’t discussed going public, or even coming out to Noodle officially. The singer hoped Murdoc wouldn’t be too mad that she knew.

“You two look at each other like the other hung the moon,” she said, shrugging. “I am happy for you both.”

Murdoc still hadn't said anything and Stu was getting antsy. “Heh, yeah. Thanks, Noods.”

Everyone in the room looked to Murdoc, trying to gauge his reaction. The old Murdoc would have blown up and caused a scene. Now though, 2D watched with pride as the bassist took a breath and smiled instead, getting up to stand beside the singer.

“Whatever, Faceache, you couldn’t resist me,” he teased. Stu blushed and stuttered a little while Russel and Noodle laughed. He felt Murdoc’s hand on his lower back, pulling him in a little closer. He looked around at his family, together once again, feeling joy build up in his chest.

“Sod off, you old goth,” he replied, leaning into Murdoc’s embrace. Murdoc stumbled a little at the extra weight. Noodle and Russel were still chuckling and rolling their eyes at the two of them. It was nice, being almost normal again.

“So,” Russel started as their laughter died down, “have the doctors said anythin’ about when you’ll be discharged?”

Stu’s head snapped up to look at the drummer with surprise. He hadn’t thought about Noodle getting home soon, he’d mostly been focusing on one day at a time. Looking over at Noodle he saw her looking thoughtful.

“They told me that if I can walk on the crutches again today, then I can go home by the end of the week,” she said, pointing to the pair sitting by the wheelchair.

“That’s great Noodle!” 2D cheered, forgetting where he was. Russel shushed him as Murdoc jostled him lightly.

“Don’t go gettin’ us kicked out, D” Murdoc murmured. 2D nodded sheepishly, embarrassed at casing such a ruckus. Russel wandered over to the set of crutches, inspecting them before turning back to Noodle.

“Are you allowed to walk around? I’m sure we could help you.”

Noodle shrugged. “I don’t know, but it can’t hurt too much.” She sat up further and began moving her things to the side. Murdoc quickly--and unsteadily--rushed to her side, helping her swing both legs over the side of the bed. He was swaying a little as he tried to steady her, an annoyed look on his face.

“Uh, maybe someone else should do this…” he said. Stu came over to take his place as Murdoc sat down in one of the chairs beside the bed. The bassist looked a little greener than usual.

Stu gave him an apologetic look. “I’ve got it, you jus’ rest Muds.” The bassist looked relieved, if not a little frustrated. “Sorry I gave you too many.”

“S’fine, not your fault really.” Russel brought over the crutches and took Noodle’s other side, helping her to shift off the bed and balance on her not-injured foot before handing her the crutches.

Stu hovered beside her, ready to catch her if she fell. It kind of reminded him of when he’d take her to the park as a kid and watch her do the monkey bars. She’d always been so fearless that he felt he had to be scared for her.

As usual, Noodle didn’t flinch away from a challenge.2D watched her limp over to the door with a determined look in her eyes, then back to the bed. She was breathing heavily and looked a little pale, but she did it. As she reached them, she smiled just like she used to when she was a kid.

It took a week and a half for the hospital to release Noodle. A few times Stu had to stop Murdoc from calling the doctor and telling her off. The bassist knew the doctors were just being careful but Satan, he wanted his little girl home and safe. He’d been visiting her as much as he could, with 2D and Russel, but it wasn’t the same as having her at home.

They’d talked a lot, about things he’d done in the past, the accident, things he was doing now. Noodle, being made of harder stuff than Stuart, didn’t forgive him unconditionally, and they had quite a few long talks about his behaviours. But he knew that she knew he was trying, really trying this time, and because of that she was going to give him another chance.

By the time the day she was scheduled to come home came up, he’d been a wreck. So much so that Russel wouldn’t let him come with to pick her up, telling him and 2D to stay home and “get things ready”. What did that even mean?

“Get things ready, oh I’ll get them bloody ready alrigh’,” Murdoc grumbled at the dishes he was washing. He’d already done the laundry and vacuumed. 2D was supposed to be taking care of the dusting and general tidying. Everything had to be perfect for Noodle’s homecoming.

“You’re gettin’ worked up, Murdoc,” he said in his best impression of their drummer. “Yah Muds, why don’t you go sit down!” He was better at imitating their singer, having done so many times for less than great reasons. But he needed to entertain himself somehow through all these chores. He’d been at this for hours now, since well before Russel left but after the drummer said he couldn’t come. How long does it take to pick up one person from the hospital?

“Dustin’s done, and it’s about as tidy as it’s ever been out there,” the singer announced as he walked into the kitchen. Murdoc glanced over his shoulder but kept washing.

“It needs to be perfect D,” he answered, picking at a spot of dried food with his fingernail. “She’s gonna be hobblin’ around on crutches for a few weeks still. She could trip, or fall, or--”

Behind him, 2D rested his head on Murdoc’s shoulder, his arms resting around his waist. “Murdoc, you’re freakin out.”

“I am not!” he scoffed indignantly, voice cracking. He grabbed one of the plates he’d already washed and dunked it back in the water. “Jus’ because you’re a lazy sod doesn’t mean we should put her in more danger.”

Stu swayed them back and forth gently, not enough to interrupt Murdoc’s washing but enough that he could feel the relaxing rhythm begin to calm him. It was both irritating and mystifying how the singer always knew exactly how to navigate Murdoc’s moods.

“Muds, Noodle’s tough, the house is clean. You’ve scrubbed that plate so hard the patterns nearly comin’ off. Sit down with me awhile?”

2D’s chest against his back, the swaying, those things combined were enough for him to take a step back and assess himself. Just like his therapist had taught him he relaxed his joints and unclenched his teeth. He acknowledged the aching in his gut and the buzzing in his veins that he’d been trying to ignore all morning. The singer tightened his hold a little as Murdoc sagged, letting the dish slip from his hands and into the soapy water.

“Everythin’s gonna be OK, promise,” 2D whispered softly, pulling Murdoc back and towards the living room. The bassist let himself be led to the sofa, and he let himself be coaxed into sitting beside Stu, leaning in slightly. “There, isn’t that better?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. His shoulders were aching from how tense he’d been all morning, and he rolled them to relive some of the burn. “What time is it?”

“Four-thirty,” 2D answered, checking his phone. “Russel texted me that they were headin’ home and should be here in about forty-five minutes.”

Murdoc stiffened again, but Stu was ready. “Don’t freak out again!” he said, tightening his hold. “Russel said she has a walkin’ cast or somethin’ and she doesn’t even need the crutches!”

But Murdoc was already up and pacing. “And you didn’t bloody tell me sooner?!” Satan, he wasn’t ready for this, he’d told himself he was and he wasn’t.

“She’s gonna come in here an-and fuckin’ t-trip over--” Again, 2D cut him off, standing up to block the bassist's path.

“She c-could d-drop a plate an’ c-cut herself.” The singer was drawing him in, big hands pressing firmly over his back.

“What if--what if s-she--What if Noodle g-gets sick again, D? Murdoc whispered into the other man’s chest, resting his head on Stu’s collarbone. “What i-if I do somethin’ w-wrong an’ she gets h-hurt. Or you. Or Russ?”

2D hummed to himself, picking up his gentle rocking motion from in the kitchen. Murdoc felt pathetic, crying in the middle of the living room. He couldn’t believe he was doing this again. Before he could fall any deeper into his own pit of self-loathing, Stu piped up.

“You know none of that’s gonna happen, we’ve talked about this,” The singer said quietly. Murdoc looked down at their feet and thought of high schoolers dancing at prom. “You’ve talked to Noodle, and you were there when we talked to the doctors. It’s gonna be fine.”

But something in his head wouldn’t let him believe it. Wouldn’t let him believe that they had somehow cheated death again, that Noodle had escaped Hell again. How was he supposed to relax, given everything they’d gone through? The slow rocking continued.

“Talk to me?” Stu asked, altering their course to avoid the coffee table. Murdoc sniffled and wiped his face, drawing back enough to look up at the singer.

“I can’t stop thinkin’ a-about what might happen. I-it’s like my brain won’t turn off…” He shook his head sadly, stopping their rocking. “Satan, I want a drink.”

“Have you had any today?” 2D looked thoughtful.

"No."

“That’s real responsible of you, Muds. I’m proud of you.”

Murdoc made a depreciating noise. “Sober for one morning, ring the parade.”

The singer sighed, taking the Satanist’s face in his hands. “S’more than I’ve managed. Little steps, yeah?”

He didn’t want to believe it. Something inside insisted that he had to be perfect, that he had to get everything right. It was the only way Murdoc could even begin to make up for everything he’d done. He didn’t have the freedom to make more mistakes. But 2D was looking at him with that look, the one that said “ I know that you’re trying to punish yourself and I won’t let you”. He took a deep breath.

“Baby steps, yeah. OK. You’re right.” It was a sign of progress that he’d even admit that to the singer.  2D smiled in response, leaning down to connect their lips. Murdoc bowed into the kiss. When he tried to deepen in, 2D pulled back with a playful grin.

“None of that now, they’ll be here any minute. Save it for later,” he said winking. Murdoc backed off, but not before reaching down to grab a good handful of his arse. “Hey!”

“Gotta get my fill before fat-arse and the sprog show up, don’t I?” Murdoc said innocently, thought the effect was ruined by his gravelly, wet laugh. 2D rolled his eyes in response, hugging him closer.

“You’re impossible.”

Murdoc was saved the hassle of responding by the sound of the front door swinging open. His stomach dropped out from underneath him immediately.

“I’m not ready for this.”

Stu gave him one last quick squeeze before letting go. Murdoc hated the lonely feeling that rushed in to take their place. “I don’t think you have a choice this time, sorry.”

“Where is everyone?” Russel called from the front room. “2D! Murdoc! Get your lazy asses over here and help me with these bags!”

2D shot him a funny look then walked towards the other two, leaving Murdoc alone in the living room. He stood there a moment to steel himself before following. He was greeted by a haggard looking Russel and a smiling Noodle in the middle of hugging 2D.

“Hello, little luv,” 2D greeted, hunching down to wrap his arms around her. She giggled in response and Murdoc was reminded of that night weeks ago when he couldn’t get the sound of her laugh out of his head so he’d gone up on the roof. But it was real this time, she was really, finally home.

“2D! It’s good to be home.” She sounded so happy, so normal. Murdoc idled near the doorway, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Russel saw him and shook his head.

“Murdoc, can you take these bags upstairs?” he asked. Murdoc jumped at being directly addressed. But taking the bags gave him something to do, which gave him something to focus on, and that was better than standings around waiting for the anxiety to take over. Russel looked surprised, but understanding as the bassist hurried to grab a few of the bags and haul them upstairs.

He could hear them talking as he ascended the stairs, all three of them together. It sounded like they were helping her into the living room, and that Noodle was tired of being helped. Murdoc felt a smile tug at his lips; she was a lot like him, in some ways.

The bags he’d grabbed were all Noodle’s, her clothes, the gifts she’d been sent while in the hospital. He set them down in her room, beside the freshly-made bed with freshly-washed sheets. On the walk back down the stairs he thought he heard his name from the living room, so he waited just outside the doorway, hoping to catch what they were saying about him.

“--urdoc?” That was 2D. They were definitely talking about him. His anxiety was spiking again, and he was about to turn around and go to his room--not to hide, Murdoc Niccals didn’t hide--when he heard Noodle speak.

“He is looking well, and so are you, D.”

“Thanks Noodle, we’re doin’ alrigh’. A lot better than before, anyway.”

“I am glad for the both of you. You are my family, and I am glad you're finally happy.” Murdoc felt himself tearing up again and rapidly rubbed at his eyes. Satan, when had he become so soft?

He heard shuffling, like someone shifting on the sofa. “She’s right, D. I think it’s finally time we all got a break.”

They switched topics then, talking about what the guitarist wanted for her homecoming dinner. Murdoc waited outside the door long enough to collect himself, then walked inside in what he hoped was a confident manner. All eyes turned to him as he walked casually up to the sofa.

“It’s great to see you Noodle,” he said, feeling just a little bit under pressure at their gazes. Luckily she smiled easily and opened her arms for a hug. That he could do. When she let go he took a seat beside 2D on the sofa. The singer leaned into him as he did, providing a kind of silent support. Noodle noticed and her smile widened.

“I’m happy to see you too Murdoc. We were just discussing what we’re going to have for dinner.”

It all felt so normal, watching Noodle and 2D argue over pizza toppings--she was going to win, but only because it was her homecoming--while Russel played moderator. Murdoc leaned back, occasionally adding in his two cents but mostly just looking on, enjoying the familiarity. Occasionally he’d stick in a word or two before being shot down. KIds these days had no taste in pizza toppings.

That was how most of the night went. They ended up ordering Thai food in the end, and 2D somehow ended up with pad thai in his hair before they turned in. Noodle had insisted she could get up the stairs on her own. She did for the most part, with a little help from Russel at the halfway point. They all said good night on the second-floor landing despite it still being pretty early. Russel insisted that Noodle needed rest and that the house had to be quiet for her to do so. So the drummer went to his own room, claiming that the hospital had worn him out while Stu and Murdoc decided to to go to the singer’s room and watch a couple of movies on his crappy TV. Murdoc let Stu pick the film, instead choosing to settle into the comfiest spot on the other man’s mattress after stripping down to his briefs.

“This one’s a classic, Muds. It’s got great effects.” 2D babbled, getting into bed in front of Murdoc and pressing his back against the bassist’s chest. Murdoc cradled the other smaller body in his arms, getting a whiff of shampoo and weed. Murdoc had thought that Stu's "smoke break" took a little loner than normal.

“You didn’t think to share?” he asked lowly, playing with the singer’s fingers. 2D barely took his eyes off the screen as he reached into his trousers and pulled out a half-smoked joint and lighter.

“Didn’t want to be a bad influence, we’re supposed to be avoidin’ this stuff,” he answered with a shrug. Murdoc lit the joint and inhaled, finishing it rather quickly.

“There’s no hard in a little herbal remedy, Stu,” he said, settling back into the bed and into the comfortable warmth of another person. “Besides, I think we’ve earned it.”

Murdoc spent most of the movie nestled up between 2D’s back and the wall. Eyes closed as he listened to the sound of zombies being slain and the singer’s breathing until the credits rolled and 2D decided to stretch out.

“S’a good movie, isn’t it?” he asked, apparently oblivious to how little Murdoc paid attention. The bassist hummed in response, curling closer into his partner’s (boyfriend’s?) warmth. They really hadn’t talked much about what they were, but he was pretty sure they were something. The idea made him almost giddy, well either that or the pot. “Murdoc?”

“Yeah?” he was starting to drift off. He felt warm and relaxed and like for once, everything was going to be OK.

“I love you, and I’m glad you’re here with me.” That woke him up a bit. He looked up at the singer, heart pounding, but in a good way. Time slowed down, things narrowed into just the two of them in the entire world.

Well, if there was ever a time to take a leap of faith… “I l-love you too, Stu-Pot. I really, really do.”

2D’s face was practically glowing with the smile that brought on. Murdoc could feel his face burning, could feel the urge to look away and rebuild his walls. But 2D was so warm, and he felt so damn good. Maybe it was time to give himself, and everyone around him, a break from all the self-hatred.

“Mmm, good.” the singer answered, wiggling around until he was comfortable and closing his eyes. “Tell me again in the morning OK?”

Murdoc looked at him, saw the tiny wrinkles along his eyes and the roughness of stubble on his chin. He thought about all the years they’d spent together, and all the ways he’d made that time miserable. Raising a hand he let his fingers trail lightly along the singer's jaw.

He thought about hooking up and eating at diners. He remembered rough kisses then softer ones and so many emotions that he couldn’t hope to name them all. A lot things had happened in the last few weeks that had changed his entire world. He thought that maybe he should stop thinking about that if he wanted to get any sleep that night.

“I will. G’night, Stu.” There was time to think tomorrow. Right now he just wanted to enjoy the few minutes he had left before falling asleep in the arms of the man he loved. Safe, protected, hopeful.

[fallling-skys-blog]

47 49 and 74 with murdoc, i love your work btw

“You’re angry with me, I know.”

(Thank you, I’m so happy that you like what I write! 49 and 74 are under the cut!)

“I can’t believe him! The nerve!” You said, fully aware of how overdramatic you sounded and not caring in the slightest.

“Yes, Murdoc is not very dating savvy. Actually that is probably because you are the only one who has put up with him for this long. To be fair, you are his first date since,” Noodle struggles to think of someone who had dated Murdoc since she’d been at Kong and fails, “many one night stands.”

“You have a point but still! It’s infuriating,” You say, pacing back and forth while Noodle sips on her milkshake.

It’d started off innocent enough. You’d been assigned to help out the band with whatever they needed as a kind of intern, which was even worse since they were on tour at the moment, and right away you’d established that you’d listen to what they needed but you wouldn’t take any shit from Murdoc or the others, especially Murdoc since he’d  made an unsavory joke in your direction within seconds of meeting you.

As soon as you’d set clear boundaries, you’d grown extremely close to the band, becoming best of friends with the teenage guitarist Noodle. You listened to what every single person in the band had to say, making you a favourite amongst them all. Eventually, Murdoc took to you and your listening skills and would tell you things that nobody in the band had even ever heard of and you’d found yourself slowly falling for the mess of a man that played bass in this odd band.

Which had lead to you, Murdoc, 2D, Russel, and Noodle all being stuck inside a small, weirdly scented taxi headed to a small diner in New York. It certainly wasn’t the night you’d imagined but it was interesting and not horrible in the least. You’d ended up having to sit on Murdoc’s lap in the back since Noodle refused to give up the passenger seat to Russel so that you could all squish together in the back and he would have room to breathe, especially since he wasn’t fond of being forced into small places with people, even the ones that he knew. She was being extremely ornery tonight for some reason and nobody really felt like arguing with her anyways so you all had come up with the seating arrangement of Russel on the left, 2D in the middle, and you on Murdoc’s lap on the right.

When you’d arrived and were free of the small car space, 2D and Russel sat themselves at booth across from each other, talking excitedly about something or another while you sat across from Murdoc, Noodle sliding in next to you.

“C’mon Noodle, why don’t you go by Russ and 2D? Sure, they’re not as entertaining as me but I’m sure they’ll get the job done,” Murdoc said and was met with Noodle rolling her eyes.

“I want a milkshake, 2D always forgets his wallet, and Russel needs a break from me today anyways. Besides, I want to watch you embarrass yourself on your date!” Noodle replied, with a devilish grin.

“Alright, alright, do what you want. It’s not like anyone in this bloody house can stop you,” He’d replied.

“And do you know why? It is because I am the greatest fighter and guitarist the world has ever seen! One day I will be even better than you Murdoc,” She said and you couldn’t help but laugh at her excitement.

“Guess she takes after you when it comes to confidence,” You joked and Murdoc had chuckled.

“Greatest role model to take after when it comes to that, not so much the other stuff,” He answers honestly and you nod.

“You’re getting better,” You say.

“You really think so love? Don’t flatter me too much or I’ll have to buy you every mediocre food item they have on the menu and I’ll be added to the list of idiot tourist names these lot pass around every night. Can you imagine? The Murdoc Niccals written off as a sap and forced to start collecting snow globes?” Murdoc says.

“Hey, don’t knock it until you try it. Snow globes might be the next baseball cards. In 2040 you might even be able to sell them for millions, you never know,” You reply.

“Or beanie babies, those are popular as well,” Noodle adds, looking up briefly from reading the menu.

“Moral of the story really’s to hoard things then isn’t it?” Murdoc asks and you smirk.

“Guess so, someone should really start writing a children’s book teaching kids about this,” You reply.

“Well it sure as hell can’t be me, I can barely talk to Noodle,” Murdoc says and Noodle laughs.

“That’s not your fault, only trained professionals and cats can talk to me and you are neither,” Noodle answers.

“I’ll have you know that many have said hearing my voice is like the sound of angel whispering the answers to all their problems and when it’s combined with my bass, it can cure them of anything,” Murdoc says and Noodle snorts.

“So the sound of dying crows mixed with your terrible playing cured them?” Noodle says.

“Can you believe this?” Murdoc asks you and you shrug.

“Your singing is objectively horrible” You reply.

“Sounds somethin’ like a dying seagull!” 2D pipes up from the seat behind you, ducking when Murdoc throws a stray fork at him and smiling triumphantly at Russel when he misses being hit.

The waitress comes at what seemed like just the right time since Noodle was practically jumping out of her skin in her seat and you were running out of quippy remarks to Murdoc and were devolving into awkwardly complimenting each other, which as adorable as it was embarrassing for the both of you.

“Can I take your order?” She asks directly to Murdoc and you can’t help but roll your eyes at her directness.

“Yes, I would like a strawberry milkshake and for you to stop lusting after my father,” Noodle says, making a gagging sign in your direction.

You learned that she only calls Murdoc her father when defending him to others or when she was trying to thwart people’s efforts to hit on him or his efforts to hit on someone else when she wanted to have a nice night without being haunted by images of Murdoc sticking his tongue down someone random person’s throat. Other than that he was just “Murdoc” or “Mr. Niccals” if she was making fun of him, usually in a voice mocking an interviewer.

Brother was reserved for 2D when she felt loving and if she was building him up to someone and she’d tell people that he was like a pet if she was annoyed with him that day. Russel was always called her uncle no matter what because he was almost always her favourite and deserved the title.

“Oh, that’s so nice to see that you take your daughter out to dinners for bonding time!” The waitress said, ignoring Noodle much to both your and Noodle’s irritation.

“It’s not that hard being a father really, just takes the right kind of time and dedication. Lots of that kind of thing, mmm,” He’d replied.

Noodle didn’t end up getting her milkshake and glared at Murdoc, purposefully only talking to you until 2D brang her one, saying that he’d heard her try and order it. She’d thanked him with a hug and smile, telling him that she wished she was at his table right now because watching Murdoc flirt with a waitress was boring and she definitely preferred talking to Russel and him much more. 

Finally, when the server had written her number on his napkin and her address with a heart you’d gotten off in a huff, Noodle following close behind saying that you two had to go to the bathroom which had led you to right now. Ranting to Noodle in the back of the restaurant about the irritating night.

“Who even writes their adress on a napkin? He could be a serial killer for all she knows. You know what, want to ride home with me? We can take our own taxi,” You offer, not feeling like dealing with anymore terrible flirting tonight.

“Yes! Our taxi will be so much better anyways, trust me, I am much more fun than the rest of the band!” She reassures you and you can’t help but smile at her confidence.

To her credit, it was an extremely fun car ride especially since the taxi driver allowed her to blast music and roll down the windows all of the way. It was the most fun car ride that you’d probably experienced so far but as soon as you got back into the house your mood soured again.

You managed to walk straight into Murdoc after Noodle had ran off to say goodnight to the band.

“I would say sorry but I think that’s your job,” You’d told him and he’d sighed.

“You’re angry with me, I know, but it wasn’t anything. I don’t know why you’re so mad, I can’t help it if the bird was all over me,” He starts and you stare back at him with an expression of disbelief.

“I’m pretty sure you were flirting back with her on what you said was supposed to be a date for the two of us,” You answer.

“What?” He laughs, “I’m guilty of leading her on a bit but the entire time you were gone I was telling her about you. She even took back her number that she gave me, never had that happen unless I was pissed drunk but that’s not the point, love. The point’s that I’m horrible at this and the next time I’ll do this sort of thing right, yeah? Anything you want and we’ll go do it.”

“Fine but if you blow your shot next time, I’ll move onto the next Satanist with a weirdly charming yet horrible personality,” You tell him and he laughs, jokingly assuring you that if he manages to ruin his chances next time that he’ll send the next sleazy bassist he sees your way.

“I don’t think I can forgive you.”

“We can start over. I’ll do anything, everything can be perfect. Just please don’t leave me.”

The band had been your kind of escape from everything in your hectic life and you’d stuck with them through everything, which was impressive considering the kinds of enemies the band managed to make thanks to Murdoc’s point blankness when it came to everything.

You’d been there when he’d slammed a door in Jimmy Manson’s face and when Murdoc had not too sneakily made out with 2D’s girlfriend in the bathroom of Kong Studios. Originally you’d met them when they’d needed a babysitter for Noodle because Russel refused to allow Noodle to follow Murdoc and Noodle to a strip joint and he needed to go on a trip to visit someone, who you’d later found out was his girlfriend that he was secretly seeing.

He didn’t want her to be involved with the band since that usually meant unfortunate accidents so Russel had been more than willing to drive out to her instead of her coming over to Kong. You’d needed a job and it seemed easy enough to take care of a eight year old for a few hours for some money that weekend, especially since Russel had asked you so kindly and you probably owed him a few favours yourself.

“Interesting place,” You commented when you’d arrived, looking around at the mansion that was likely to be a tourist destination to look for ghosts considering the shape it was in and the vibe it gave off.

“Not exactly paradise but when you’re playing in a band with Muds, you take what you can get,” Russel had shrugged as you closed the door behind you.

“Fair enough,” You responded, having no idea who he was talking about.

“Who in the hell’s this?” Murdoc has said, throwing an arm with a beer bottle over the couch so that he could turn his head to look at you.

“I’m here to take care of your kid problem and unless you know anyone else who’s dying to take the position, I’d be a little nicer,” You’d responded and Murdoc had chuckled in response.

“I like your style, don’t let old Murdoc over here order you around. Don’t worry I’ll have you begging for that later,” He’d said.

“In your dreams and my nightmares,” You’d replied before turning to Russel.

“Do I get to meet Noodle now? You said you had to get going soon and I don’t want you to have to wait longer than you have to especially with such a mysterious journey awaiting,” You teased.

“You’re right, don’t wanna delay leaving longer than I have to. Trouble is finding where she’s hiding,” Russel replied and you’d began your search for Noodle, meeting the lead singer along the way.

He seemed nice enough, a little spacey but he was definitely interesting and had plenty of weird stories and a pretty pleasant attitude which made you like him almost immediately. You’d asked him about Noodle and he told that she’d ran off with one of keyboards so she probably couldn’t have gone that far unless she dropped it along the way and in that case, could you please bring it back to him because it was one of his favourites.

You eventually found Noodle and ushered Russel out of the house since he was still nervous about leaving her alone, even if you’d be there. You couldn’t really blame him since the guy you’d met who’d been lounging on the couch, Murdoc you recalled, didn’t seem to be much of a parental figure and 2D had the personality of a little kid combined with being extremely spacey.

At first when Russel had left you alone with Noodle, you’d had some difficulty getting along, mostly due to the language barrier but after chasing her around the house for almost two hours she eventually calmed down and you two got along alright. You focused on activities that didn’t need verbal communication like games, video or board, and whatever you could think up.

Eventually she’d passed out on the table when you left to get her some water and food so you’d carried her to her room, which you silently thanked Russel for showing you earlier on when you’d been trying to find her. You’d laid her down on the bed gently and covered her up with a blanket, leaving quietly and shutting the door behind you.

The fun part was trying to find your way around the mansion to somewhere that was potentially a good place to wait for Russel to come home and where Noodle could find you if she woke up.

You found your way back to living room after a lot of trial and error of searching around the house and sat down on the couch with a sigh, tired from a night of not sleeping the day before and taking care of an overexcited eight year old.

You heard rummaging and someone yell from in the kitchen and groaned, forcing yourself to get up and go check if they were okay. You supposed that 2D and Murdoc could be back from their night out since you’d been away from the door with Noodle and the house was like a maze so it wouldn’t be too out of this world to assume that they’d come home while you were hanging out with Noodle.

“Rough night?” You asked, making your way into the kitchen when you saw Murdoc struggling to pop the cap of an alcohol bottle.

“Any night with that blubbering idiot’s a rough one. Be a good boy/girl, love and open this for me, will you?” He asked, handing you the bottle.

“Hmmm, not really sure I should do that. You seem to be a little, what’s the word, addicted to this stuff,” You replied, knowing someone codependent on drugs when you saw them.

“Well if you’re not going to help, go take care of Noodle or whatever Russel decided to pay you for. Noodle would have been fine on her own if you ask me, it’s good for the kid to learn to take care of herself,” He said, trying to grab the bottle from you.

“She’s eight,” You answered.

“Knew how to take care of myself at seven, not all that hard is it? Besides,” He finally succeeds in grabbing the bottle out of your hands, “She’s loads smarter than I was back then.”

“Fair enough but you’re not exactly the pinnacle of glowing health, are you?” You replied.

“Well you’ve got me there, haven’t you?” He chuckled, taking a swig from the bottle that he’d been struggled to open just a minute ago.

It probably would have been smarter to leave him to what you expected he did on a regular basis on his own but leaving someone alone and inebriated in this house rubbed your conscience the wrong way so you walked with him around the house. He refused your request that he should drink some water to make sure his hangover wouldn’t be as bad in the morning saying that he probably deserved the punishment of that anyways.

To be fair, once he’d dranken out of the bottle he seemed to be only slightly tipsy so he was probably a pro when it came to drinking, not that that eased your mind about the situation in the slightest. When he’d drank the entirety was really when he stopped his incessant flirting and bragging and become like any normal person with problems and in desperate need of a friend or someone they could talk to.

You learned a little bit about his rocky past, things he felt guilty about, and his terrifying childhood. You felt bad for him and couldn’t help but try and comfort him which was hard when he was slurring his words and occasionally leaning on you for support.

Eventually, you gave up on walking around the house with him and moved to sit down, Murdoc practically crumbling to the ground. Before you knew it, he was sobbing into your shoulder while you held his hand. Moving so that you could run a hand through his hair with your other hand, doing your best to comfort this mess of a man in front of you.

After some time, he ended up passed with his head in your lap and you absentmindedly played with his hair having a feeling the little bit about his past that he’d told you wasn’t anywhere near everything he’d been through.

It definitely wasn’t the night you’d expected and when Russel eventually found you, he’d apologized that you had to deal with Murdoc when he was drunk and that he’d hoped to be home before 2D and Murdoc were.

He lifted Murdoc easily off your lap and thanked you for taking care of Noodle and actually managing to get her to go to sleep which was apparently a harder task then it seemed.

After that night, a mix of curiosity and the urge to help someone you didn’t even know got the best of you and you’d found yourself offering to take care of Noodle frequently. You ignored Murdoc’s flirting and bragging when you got the chance to talk to him and when that didn’t work you countered with smart responses, enjoying your banter and after a while you’d ended making friends with him.

Friends turned to something more and before you knew it, the two of you had begun dating and gone on a plethora of adventures with one another. It wasn’t exactly a healthy relationship but it was close and he promised you that he was working to getting better and you made yourself believe him. In a way, he was but at the same time he was exactly the same as before. Nights numbing his pain in alcohol and drugs. At least he’d stopped the drugs when you’d threatened to leave if he didn’t start treating himself better.

Which ended up in you here, chatting with Noodle while walking around the set to film the El Manana video. Murdoc whispering to the people filming and whoever was in charge of the shoot, you didn’t really pay too much attention to that type of thing, you really only cared about the band members and didn’t give in to the “rock star” persona they carried with them everywhere that they’d go.

Eventually Noodle shooed you away with a hug telling you that she had to get filmed now. You’d bugged her for a few more minutes and then left to sit in between Murdoc and Russel, watching as the camera’s started rolling and Noodle swung her feet over the ledge of the floating island.

Before you knew it, anarchy had ensued and you found yourself numb, staring at the ground back in your own room weeks later and questioning if you could have fixed what had happened. You knew your boyfriend has issues and was sometimes full of cruelty but nothing of this level. Letting Noodle die? Maybe it was an accident but his shout of, “Keep filming! Make you sure you get all of this mate!” echoed in your head, making you unsure of everything.

He’d assured you that it wasn’t like that and he hadn’t gotten Noodle killed, she was fine, she had a parachute, and they’d talked about this before but it’d sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than you.

Suddenly, you shot up from the ground where you’d been sitting with your back against the wall and started packing the things that you absolutely needed into a small suitcase, making your way down the stairs. It wasn’t running away from your problems as it was getting away from what was making you miserable, you told yourself as you ran into Russ and he gave you a head nod, his tired way of saying goodbye with the small amount of energy he had.

You’d forced yourself to give him a broken hearted smile and passed 2D’s room, his sobbing hitting you in your heart and you closed his cracked open door gently so that you wouldn’t bother his mourning process.

It was your luck that you found Murdoc drinking from a bottle, empty glasses surrounding him as he looked up at you with bloodshot eyes not comprehending what was happening at first, the chemicals affecting him slowing his brain’s processing.

“Sorry,” You deadpanned, taking a step to the door before he jumped up, nearly falling in the process.

“Don’t go love, I told you, it was an accident. She’s fine, I’m telling you, Noodle’s grand. She’s out there having the time of her life, she survived! I’m sure of it, have you ever seen her? She’s was a bloody assassin for God’s sake! A little explosion wouldn’t have-” He choked on his words, stopping before trying to regain his composure again.

“We can start over. I’ll do anything, everything can be perfect. Just please don’t leave me,” He finally says, holding onto your shoulders and looking you dead in the eyes.

“I don’t think I can forgive you and, this time, I don’t know if I want to,” You tell him and he lets go of you, knowing anyone caring for him was too good to be true in the first place and that he was always going to ruin it somehow but god, he never imagined it would be because of something like this.

[geminidaydreamer]

Chapter 3

So here is the last chapter. Can't think of anything more to add. Hope you still like it.

Mac was settled in one of the private rooms they have in medical the moment they arrived. Blood was taken for the tox screen but after that,they were left alone. Jack pulled on a chair and planted himself beside the bed where he will stay until his partner wakes up. But that was hours ago and he’s getting worried that Mac is not waking up yet. The doctor assured him that it’s fine. They don’t expect him to regain consciousness until tomorrow at least. Let him rest,they said. He’s jetlagged,then was tased,he’ll really break Murdoc’s bones when he gets his hands on him,kidnapped, drugged and got hit by a car. It’s better for him to rest and let his body heal.

The others joined him but when it got late, he tried to order them to go home and get some rest themselves. Well , he tried but they couldn’t be budged. At the moment, Riley was already asleep on the sofa while Bozer was asleep on a chair with his head on the foot of Mac’s bed.

Jack couldn’t get himself to sleep. He wants to be awake once Mac does. He watched his chest rise and fall with every breath the kid took. Once in a while he places his hand on Mac’s chest to feel his heartbeat just to assure himself that the kid was alive and here. He already had an x amount of coffee which he knows is bad but he has to stay awake. His body had other ideas though. He wasn’t even aware when his head hit the bed and fell asleep.

Mac’s return to awareness came slowly,like he was emerging from underwater.Everything was muted somehow. He can only feel a slight discomfort somewhere in his body,he can’t pinpoint exactly where yet, mentally bracing himself, he slowly opened his eyes. The ceiling looks familiar was the first thought that came thru his still muddled mind. Slowly he turned his head to look out the window. Judging by the light, he assumes it’s early morning. His eyes swept the room and was relieved to recognise it as one of rooms in Phoenix medical. Turning his head ever so slowly, his eyes landed on Riley sleeping on the couch and Bozer, also asleep by his foot. He gave a small smile and was about to nudge Bozer awake when he felt something move on his right. He had a flash of panic before taking a look and saw Jack asleep, head resting near his arm. His heart calmed the moment his eyes landed on his partner. Not wanting to wake him up, he tried to shift away to give Jack’s head more room, but all that did was make the pain he was vaguely feeling come full force.

A pained groan escaped his lips that he couldn’t stop. That was enough for Jack to jolt awake. His first instinct was to scan the room for threats. It was cut short when he noticed Mac was awake.

“Mac!”

That was enough to wake both Riley and Bozer. They both looked around confused before registered that Mac is awake. Riley threw the blanket off her and got to her feet. She approached the bed while Bozer stood up and moved closer.

“Hey guys,” he managed to croak out. Jack immediately poured him some water from the pitcher on the table and helped him up. Mac took greedy sips. “Easy there bud. You don’ want to end up puking that out.”

Mac took the advise and drank more slowly. Once he felt he had enough, he sank back to bed with a relieved sigh. Jack also raised the bed for Mac to be more comfortable.

“Thanks Jack.”

“Of course, no problem kid.”

“How are you feeling Mac?” Bozer asked. “And don’t you dare say “I’m fine. You don’t know what that means.”

Mac gave his friend a small smile.

“No, Mac really. Are you in pain? Should we call the doctor?” Riley asked in a worried tone.

“No need Riles. It’not too bad. I just moved wrong.”

“Are you sure?” Mac held out his hand which she took into hers. “Really.”

“We’ll just go and tell Matty you’re awake.We’re also be getting some coffee. Do you want any Jack.?”

“Nah,I’m good.I already had too much last night. Some food will be great though.”

“Alright, we won’t be long.”Riley gave Mac’s forehead a kiss before walking out. Bozer rested his hand on Mac’s shoulder and gave it a small squeeze before following Riley.

Jack sat back down once the two were gone. Now that they were alone, Jack felt a bit off. He’s glad Mac’s alright but he still couldn’t shake off that guilt that he is feeling.

“Hey Mac.” “Yeah Jack? ” He noticed Jack’s sudden change of mood. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry.” Mac’s forehead furrowed in confusion. “For what?” For not answering your calls. For leaving you in Paris. I should have been there. He shouldn’t have been able to take you. It’s my fault.”

“Jack, no. It’s not your fault.” The older man was still not looking at him. “Jack, please look at me.”

“If there’s anyone that needs to apologize, it’s me. I shouldn’t have said what I did in Paris. I didn’t mean it. I should have listened to you.”

“But if I just answered your calls…” “We didn’t know that Murdoc was going to take me that day. And I’m actually relieved you weren’t there. He didn’t get the chance to hurt you too.” Jack stood up and on the bed. Carefully he took Mac into his arms for a hug. “I thought I lost you.When the trail went cold, I thought that the next time I’ll be seeing was in a body bag.”

Mac buried his face on Jack’s chest, feeling the rapid heartbeat. “I was scared too Jack. Murdoc said you won’t be able to find me. That he hid me too well.”

Jack pulled away from him and sat away a bit. With his back hunched, he said, “He’s right.I didn’t find you. You had to save yourself.”

Mac grabbed one of his arms,which wasn’t a good idea.The sudden movement caused a flare of pain to his ribs. He doubled over with a cry, still clutching Jack’s arm for support. He felt Jack holding him and lying him back on the bed. “Easy there. That’s it slow breaths.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What?”

He opened his eyes, and looked directly into Jack’s. “It doesn’t matter, you’re here now.”

“I still wasn’t there when I was supposed to be.” Jack took ragged breaths to calm himself. “I..I can’t say this won’t happen again with our job and all but I swear, I’ll do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t. ”

“I know you will.”

“I love you man.” With a smirk Mac responded, “I love you too big guy.”

[asflowersfade]

Ficlet: A Man of his Word

A MacGyver reboot ficlet, a what-if death story set in episode 108. Murdoc offered Mac a deal: Mac’s death for his friends’ freedom. Mac accepts.

“MacGyver, don’t tell me you didn’t read the fine print. I don’t let them go when you get here, I let them go when you’re dead,” the killer says as he pulls out a gun with his free hand, the fingers of the other hovering over the buttons on the remote control, ready to pull the trigger and kill Mac’s friends.

Mac thinks fast. A Swiss Army knife is all he has got and no matter how smart or how fast he is, he will never outsmart or outrun a bullet. Or, maybe he would, but not his friends. And he can’t allow them to get hurt or die because of  him. What he’s always feared the most was, that one day, he would be unable to save his friends. They’re his greatest strength but also his ultimate weakness. It was only a matter of time before someone realized that and used them against him.

This guy did.

“On your knees, MacGyver,” the killer orders, looking very pleased with himself. But when Mac hesitates, the man frowns and once again mad gleam returns to his eyes. “I said, on your knees! Or should I first kill one of your friends? You’ll still by able to save the other two afterwards, when you finally do as I say!” His voice rises and rises until he’s almost screaming.

This is it. There’s no way out of this. Mac suspected as much on the ride here, but knowing it, truly knowing it is a different matter entirely. Still, before he does this - and he knows he will, his life means nothing measured against the lives of his friends - he needs to be sure he won’t die in vain.

“How do I know that you’ll let them go?” Mac asks challengingly. “That you won’t kill them the moment I’m dead?”

The killer looks almost offended as he takes a step closer. “MacGyver, I might be a sociopath and maybe, maybe even slightly mad, some say, but I am a man of my word. And I do give you my word, right here and right now: the moment you breathe your last breath, they” --he taps the trigger button on the remote control, making Mac’s heart jump-- “will be free to go and continue to pester the world. I don’t care. I just want to experience the delicious feeling of killing you.”

Taking yet another step closer but still keeping safely out of reach, the killer aims his gun straight at Mac and his face hardens. “Now, quit stalling. Down on your knees. You or them, that’s the only two options you have left. Choose.”

The choice is really no choice at all, then. Dropping to his knees, Mac closes his eyes, takes a deep breath to calm down his racing heart and whispers, “Thank you.”

Thank you for letting it be just me. Thank you for giving me the chance to save them. Thank you for sparing their lives.

A shot rings out.

There’s a shot, a single shot that thunders through the scrapyard followed by nothing at all. The silence seems to last forever.

They all look at each other - Jack, Riley and Thornton - and Jack’s heart leaps to his throat.

Then the red dots disappear from their chests as the remote controlled machine guns swivel away and settle down, safely disabled.

“You’re free to go,” the killer’s voice echoes off the junk piled up high all around them.

“Just like that?” Thornton yells back, her eyes sweeping their surroundings.

There’s a pause. Then, “We had a deal, MacGyver and I. He honored his part - now it’s my turn.”

He honored-- Jack’s eyes widen. No. No way. Impossible.

He starts running, ignoring Thornton’s and Riley’s shouts.

Jack rounds a dangerously leaning heap of stripped down car parts, skidding on the dust and gravel - and falters. Because there, among the car wrecks, a body’s lying on the ground, blue jeans, a blue shirt and… blood, so much blood soaking into the thirsty ground.

“No, nonono,” Jack whispers, over and over again as he pushes forward faster, his legs pumping harder to get to MacGyver as quickly as possible.

And then he’s there, dropping to his knees by Mac’s side. “Mac, Mac? Answer me!” Jack shouts, running his hands over Mac’s chest - still, too still, warm but still! - and up his throat, searing for his pulse and finding none, getting blood - Mac’s blood! - all over his hands.

“You-you’ll be alright. You’ll be alright, buddy!” Jack says, trying to smile through the tears gathering in his eyes. “You’ll be okay. We’ll call an ambulance. They’ll fix you in no time. You’ll be--”

Thornton and Riley run up to him and stop abruptly, Riley whispering a shocked, “Oh my God!” as she hides her face in her hands and turns away, unable to look at Mac.

Jack shoots them a look over his shoulder. “Call 911! Call for help! Call-call someone, anyone! Mac needs help! He needs… he needs--” His voice breaks.

Jack breaks. He sits down hard on the dusty ground, unashamed of his tears, soaked and splattered with his best friend’s blood. 

Mac’s dead. MacGyver’s gone.

The funeral’s a simple affair. Just family and Mac’s closest friends. There’s Mac’s grandfather, standing at the casket with Bozer at his side, and even Mac’s dad came. Riley, Thornton, Mac’s old friends from the army… and Jack, apart from the others, there but not really, unable to join them.

He quit the Phoenix Foundation that morning.

“I can’t do it anymore, Patty,” he told Thornton. “Not without Mac. I’ve stayed for him. He wanted to do this, that damn goody-two-shoes with a bleeding heart, and so I stayed with him, for him. But without him here, I can’t.”

Thornton looked at him across her desk. “I thought you liked your job, Jack,” she said. It wasn’t a rebuke, she wasn’t trying to convince him to stay. She understood him very well.

“I did. But I liked him more,” he replied and then he left and he didn’t look back.

“Hey, Jack,” Bozer says quietly as he approaches him. 

The funeral ended and Jack didn’t even notice.

Jack clears his throat. “Hey. How are you?” he asks. Mac would want him to look after his friend, but right now, all Jack can do is simply exist. When Mac died, the foundations of Jack’s world crumpled. Being Mac’s back-up, his bodyguard, that used to be Jack’s purpose in life.

Bozer shrugs, looking at MacGyver’s grave. Jack understand how he feels better than anyone.

But then Bozer clears his throat and says something unexpected. “Before Mac... before he went out to meet that guy, before he left, he gave me something.” He pulls a white envelope out of his pocket and hands it to Jack. “He asked me to give it to you if-if something happened to him that day.”

Reluctantly, Jack takes the envelope. It’s slim, almost weightless.

“I don’t know what’s in it but it seemed really important to him that you have it,” Bozer adds, then he claps Jack on the shoulder and without waiting for a reply, he walks away to join Mac’s family.

Jack doesn’t open the envelope till he’s alone at home with a bottle of whiskey sitting open on the table in front of him; he’s not a fan of drinking problems away but he can either get drunk or do something even more stupid.

Because he was right, the loss of Mac, it’s killing him by degrees, bit by bit, minute after minute…

Jack,

I’m sorry. I couldn’t have your death on my conscience either.

Love

Mac

That’s all. That’s it. A damn apology. For dying, of all things! The idiot! The damn stupid dumb... self-sacrificing idiot! Jack takes another gulp of whiskey.

His phone rings. He ignores it, allowing it to drop into voicemail. A moment later, the phone starts ringing again. And then again. And then again. Someone’s very determined to reach him, not content with simply leaving him a message.

“What?” Jack snaps when he finally picks up.

“He thanked me,” a voice on the other end tells him. A very familiar voice. The killer’s voice!

“You bastard!” Jack roars, jumping to his feet. “You son of a bitch!”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re angry, you’ll kill me, et cetera and so on,” the killer mocks him, dismissing Jack’s fury. “But why did he thank me, Jack? I was pointing a gun at his head, I was about to shoot him - he knew I would do it! - and he said, ‘Thank you.’” There’s bewilderment in his voice now. “Why? Why did he do it?”

“I’ll get you for what you did to him,” Jack states coldly, ignoring the man’s question. “I’ll make you pay for murdering Mac!”

“Hm,” the killer says, “I think you’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. My life would’ve been so much more interesting if I had let him live. What an intriguing cat and mouse game we could’ve played.” A sigh. “Alas, what’s done is done.”

Jack’s seeing red. He’s never been so enraged in his life. He will get this man. But simply catching him and letting him rot in prison won’t be enough, nothing will be enough but-- 

“I will kill you,” Jack enunciates carefully. “I swear on Mac’s grave. I’ll find you and I’ll kill you.”

“Yes, you should definitely try, Jack,” the killer agrees reasonably. “And in the meantime, while you’re at it, we could maybe talk about MacGyver, what do you say? Nobody knew him better than you. And I need to know - I need to-I need to understand, Jack! - why the ‘thank you’! Why?”

“I’ll tell you - right before I put a bullet in your head,” Jack says and hangs up.

Setting his phone down on the table gently, Jack picks up the bottle of whiskey and hefts it in his hand - and then he throws it across the room where it shatters against the wall, spraying shards and alcohol everywhere.

Jack doesn’t need to get drunk anymore. He has a new purpose in life. He’ll find the bastard who murdered MacGyver and he’ll put him in the grave, he swears. 

And Jack’s always been a man of his word.

[toodi-imagines]

Hey, y'all, here's a taste of my writing! Sorry it's bad 🤷🏼‍♀️

As the warm bath water laps over your skin, your muscles slowly began to ease into relaxation. Finals week always manages to take a toll on not only your mental state but also your physical condition. Nearly 30 minutes ago, Russel found you quietly sobbing in your shared room with 2d, your entire body shaking. He pried you up from 2d's desk and gently rubbed your back until you finally managed to slow your staggered breaths and stop crying. After calming you down, Russ suggested you take a bath while he prepared you some tea. As you slowly swish your arms around in the bath water listening to the splash of the water against the porcelain, you hear a tentative knock on the bathroom door. "Who is it?" You call to the person knocking. "It's me, love" a thick British accent replies from the other side of the door. "Hey, stu, come on in." you answer in a melancholy tone. He creaks open the door cautiously. "Russ told me yew weren't feelin' too well?" He quizzes as he steps in. You can't help but grin a little at his big eyes and those cute little worry lines he forms between his brows. "Yeah, I'm...just a little stressed about finals" you say, your voice breaking up on the last few words. "Oh, well yew wait here. I'm gonna go get a bathrobe, and then I'm gonna make you forget all about those stupid tests they make yew do anyway!" He turns and leaves the bathroom to retrieve his bathrobe, forgetting to close the door behind him. Not entirely appreciating having your body exposed to the rest of the house (god you can only imagine the horror on Russ's face) on the chance that they pass by, you quickly yank the shower curtain closed. Moments later you hear the clicking of shoes on the tile. Drained of energy, your heavy limbs forbid you from opening the curtain once more, and instead you opt to leave it closed until 2d opens it himself to step in. You listen quietly as you hear his belt buckle clatter and his pants fall around his ankles. However, much to your surprise, the next noise you hear is that of the toilet lid being lifted followed by the sound of urination. You hear a couple of small grunting noises accompanied by a guttural "oh yeah." At precisely the moment realization hits you that this is indeed not your boyfriend 2d outside, the shower curtain flies open revealing Murdoc in nothing but his underwear, much to you utter shock and dismay. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" You screech as you splash water at him and attempt to cover yourself. "WELL WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" He screeches back at you. "I'M TAKING A BATH WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE I'M DOING!" you shoot back at him. You feel your eyes begin to water out of frustration. All you wanted was to relax, and you were entirely stressed out already, and now this. As you sit in the cooling bath water on the verge of tears looking up at Murdoc, he continues to yell at you "WELL WHAT IN SWEET SATAN'S NAME WERE YA DOIN' LETTIN' ME IN THEN?" Before you could manage to choke out a response, Stu arrives on the scene bathrobe in hand, his black eyes filling with rage as he observes Murdoc staring at your naked body. In height, 2D's tall body nearly fills the frame of the door. He clenches both fists, his face distorted into pure hatred. You'd never seen 2d like this before, his demeanor was usually that of complete sweetness or, at the most, only mild anger or frustration. With his heavy dark brows furrowed together and piercing, hollow eyes, the sight of him sends shivers down your spine. Though you'd be terrified to be in murdoc's position, there is something just so goddamn attractive about him. 2d marches over to Murdoc and grips his neck, towering over him. "I'm not letting you take another one." He hisses in murdoc's face. "For christ's sake, d, I'm not trying to--" Murdoc is shortly cut off by 2d's tightening grip around his throat. "Wait! Wait wait!" You cry, not wanting 2d to hurt Murdoc over a misunderstanding. "He didn't mean to come in, he just did and I thought it was you so I let him and then he saw me and now we're here and--" you attempt to explain, but you're practically rambling and on the verge of a panic attack. 2d releases Murdoc, and you watch as the rage in his eyes dissipates into terror while he waits for murdoc's retaliation. However, Murdoc appears to be in a good mood because he only spits in 2d's face and stomps out, grumbling and rubbing his neck the whole way. Already entirely stressed out, the commotion and excitement of the whole ordeal dissolves you into tears. "Oh no don't cry, love, it's alrigh', you're gonna be okay, everyfink is okay." Stuart coos as he kneels down to wrap his arms around your exposed upper body. You shiver and sniffle into his shoulder as he holds you, the cold air biting against your wet skin. He sits there for a moment, stroking your hair and calming you down until you half whimper "you can get in if you want" into his neck. He pulls away from you and places a thoughtful kiss on your forehead before undressing and climbing in behind you. You settle your back against his chest and he wraps his lanky arms around your figure. He rests his cheek against the top of your head, lifting it only occasionally to plant a kiss atop your hair. The two of you sit in drowsy, comfortable silence lulled by the sound of each other's rhythmic breathing until the bath water no longer retains any warmth. 2d strokes the side of your face lovingly and questions in a hushed tone if you're ready to get out. You quietly agree and lift yourself out of the bathtub. 2d steps out after you and reaches for two towels from the shelf. He wraps the extra fluffy one around you and places a kiss on your lips, which you gladly return. He gives you that big goofy smile with his one squinty eye that you've fallen in love with, and you can't help but giggle a little. You reach up and ruffle his wet blue hair (standing on your tip toes to do so). He quickly dries off and puts his bathrobe on before reaching down to drain the tub as you wrap your hair into a towel and put your own bathrobe on. Knowing you are much too exhausted to return to your studying, you decide that tonight is a good night to cuddle and watch movies. Just as you open your mouth to ask 2d, you hear a knock on the door. Upon opening it, you find noodle with a tea-tray in her hands. "Russ sent me up here with this." you note how meticulously the tray is arranged, complete with fresh-picked flowers in a vase. Leave it to Russ to be so thoughtful. "Thank you, that's really sweet of you two" you say accepting the tray graciously. "Well actually we were wondering if you would like to have a movie night with us? We all think you could you a break..." noodle presses on. You consider it for a moment and nod in agreement. "We'll be down in a minute, Noods" 2d chimes from behind you. Noodle nods and skips away happily, taking the tray with her. The two of you make your way back to 2d's room where you begin your hunt for the comfiest pajamas. "I fink you should wea' this!" 2d proclaims holding up a sheer, black lingerie two piece. "Stuart Put put that back" you demand. "And besides if I have to wear that, you're wearing this" you say teasingly holding up a leather collar. "Hey! Put that back!" 2d hollers with embarrassment, reaching for the collar. You hold the collar away from him where he can't reach it despite his long arms. In clumsily grasping for the collar, he manages to faceplant directly into the floor. Laughing for the first real time tonight, you stare down at him as he grins up at you sheepishly. He sits up, his cheeks flushed, and rubs his head as you help him to his feet. He stumbles a little upon standing, and you steady him before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. It begins slowly and gently but you quickly realize how much the stress has actually made you need this. You clench a fistful of his hair with one hand and tighten your grip on his shoulder with the other. He gets the message and slides on hand down your back. He squeezes your butt and you gasp ever so slightly before nibbling at his bottom lip. Both of his hands travel down your back and onto the backs of your thighs as he quickly hoists you up so you can wrap your thighs around his waist. You tip your head back and he begins to kiss your neck. He quickly finds that sweet spot on your neck and your dig your fingernails into his shoulders, clawing gently at his back as he teases you. "Stuart" you moan into his ear and kiss his jawline. A sudden pounding on the door breaks the two of you from your trance. "Hey, you two lovebirds wanna finish it up in there? We wanna start the movie" Russ complains through the door. You and 2d giggle together. "Be right out Russ, we were, um, busy" you reply lamely. "Yeah I know you were busy, y'all ain't quiet. The whole neighborhood knows you was busy, noisy ass white people" Russ grumbles from the other side of the door. "And I ain't wanna hear no more moanin tonight either. Tomorrow's Sunday and I'm tryna rest up for the lord, y'all best be gettin you asses out here." "Okay, Russ, we're coming" you say stifling laughter. You cut a glance back at 2d. "We should probably.. um.. go out there" you say clearing your throat. "Good plan. I spose we're gonna 'ave to, erm, finish this later then." 2d replies. "Later." You say kissing his nose before he sets you down.

[the-happy-landfill]

2doc request... something fluffy? I always just see 2doc fanfics as "hot man sex wow hot hothot murdoc has no emotion hot man sex" I'd love to see Murodc actually caring about 2D and being there for him. :)

Ooooh my god this took me way longer than it should have and I apologize for that, but I hope this story is to your liking. Since the request doesn’t have a specific scenario in it, I used one I’ve been considering for a while and I thought would be cute. Hope you enjoy!

When​ ​Murdoc​ ​stepped​ ​out​ ​of​ ​the​ ​Winnebago’s​ ​grimy​ ​shower​ ​that​ ​evening,​ ​he​ ​was​ ​actually​ ​in​ ​a much​ ​better​ ​mood​ ​than​ ​he​ ​normally​ ​would​ ​be​ ​after​ ​getting​ ​clean.​ ​Sure,​ ​it​ ​wasn’t​ ​his​ ​favorite​ ​thing, and​ ​the​ ​only​ ​bath​ ​towel​ ​he​ ​could​ ​find​ ​in​ ​his​ ​Winnie​ ​was​ ​scratchy​ ​and​ ​threadbare,​ ​but​ ​it​ ​didn’t​ ​get him​ ​down.​ ​He​ ​had​ ​a​ ​date​ ​with​ ​2D​ ​tonight,​ ​and​ ​that​ ​fact​ ​had​ ​him​ ​surprisingly​ ​less​ ​foul​ ​mood​ ​than usual.​ ​Here​ ​he​ ​was,​ ​drying​ ​off​ ​and​ ​getting​ ​into​ ​some​ ​clean​ ​clothes​ ​that​ ​he​ ​hadn’t​ ​grabbed​ ​off​ ​the floor.  

He​ ​knew​ ​it​ ​was​ ​ridiculous,​ ​but​ ​it​ ​wasn’t​ ​everyday​ ​he​ ​and​ ​2D​ ​did​ ​something​ ​special.​ ​They​ ​didn’t always​ ​have​ ​the​ ​time​ ​or​ ​the​ ​energy,​ ​and​ ​neither​ ​of​ ​them​ ​were​ ​the​ ​type​ ​for​ ​grand​ ​romantic gestures,​ ​but​ ​who​ ​didn’t​ ​love​ ​a​ ​good​ ​chance​ ​to​ ​take​ ​their​ ​singer​ ​out​ ​somewhere​ ​fun​ ​and​ ​show him​ ​off?   

The​​ ​​fairgrounds​​ ​​were​​ ​​opening​​ ​​tonight,​​ ​​and​​ ​​while​​ ​​they​​ ​​probably​​ ​​wouldn’t​​ ​​compare​​ ​​to​​ ​​the​​ ​​Pot  family’s​​ ​​fairgrounds,​​ ​​he​​ ​​knew​​ ​​2D​​ ​​loved​​ ​​that​​ ​​sort​​ ​​of​​ ​​thing.​​ ​​Murdoc​​ ​​just​​ ​​hoped​​ ​​he​​ ​​wouldn’t​​ ​​want​​ ​​to  go​​ ​​on​​ ​​any​​ ​​roller​​ ​​coasters.​​ ​​Damn​​ ​​things​​ ​​always​​ ​​made​​ ​​him​​ ​​feel​​ ​​nauseous.   

With​ ​this​ ​in​ ​mind,​ ​Murdoc​ ​finished​ ​dressing​ ​and​ ​gave​ ​his​ ​hair​ ​a​ ​quick​ ​run​ ​through​ ​with​ ​a​ ​comb. His​ ​fringe​ ​was​ ​getting​ ​long,​ ​he’d​ ​need​ ​to​ ​cut​ ​it​ ​soon,​ ​but​ ​he​ ​didn’t​ ​have​ ​time​ ​now.​ ​It​ ​was​ ​nearly time​ ​to​ ​leave.  

He​ ​exited​ ​the​ ​Winnie​ ​and​ ​made​ ​his​ ​way​ ​across​ ​the​ ​carpark,​ ​intending​ ​to​ ​pop​ ​over​ ​to​ ​2D’s​ ​room and​ ​see​ ​if​ ​he​ ​was​ ​ready​ ​to​ ​go​ ​yet.   

As​ ​soon​ ​as​ ​he​ ​opened​ ​the​ ​bedroom​ ​door,​ ​however,​ ​his​ ​mood​ ​began​ ​to​ ​deflate​ ​a​ ​little​ ​bit.​ ​The room​ ​was​ ​pitch​ ​dark,​ ​every​ ​light​ ​and​ ​screen​ ​switched​ ​off.​ ​Murdoc​ ​fumbled​ ​his​ ​hand​ ​along​ ​the wall​ ​for​ ​the​ ​switch,​ ​and​ ​the​ ​overhead​ ​flickered​ ​on. 

The​ ​light​ ​was​ ​on​ ​just​ ​long​ ​enough​ ​for​ ​Murdoc​ ​to​ ​see​ ​a​ ​lump​ ​underneath​ ​the​ ​bed​ ​covers,​ ​and​ ​a shock​ ​of​ ​blue​ ​hair​ ​peeking​ ​out​ ​from​ ​the​ ​top.​ ​He​ ​heard​ ​a​ ​pained​ ​whimper​ ​and​ ​2D’s​ ​muffled​ ​voice snapping​ ​at​ ​him​ ​to​ ​turn​ ​the​ ​light​ ​off.​ ​He​ ​flipped​ ​the​ ​switch​ ​again,​ ​knowing​ ​what​ ​his​ ​singer​ ​was going​ ​to​ ​tell​ ​him​ ​before​ ​he​ ​even​ ​asked.   

And​ ​sure​ ​enough,​ ​as​ ​Murdoc​ ​approached​ ​the​ ​bed,​ ​he​ ​heard​ ​a​ ​quiet​ ​sniff​ ​and​ ​2D’s​ ​voice​ ​from beneath​ ​the​ ​covers,​ ​“I​ ​don’t​ ​feel​ ​very​ ​good,​ ​Muds…”  

“What​ ​do​ ​you​ ​mean,​ ​you​ ​don’t​ ​feel​ ​good?”​ ​Murdoc​ ​asked​ ​incredulously,​ ​raising​ ​an​ ​eyebrow.​ ​“Is​ ​it your​ ​head?”   

“Mhm…​ ​My​ ​nose​ ​and​ ​throat,​ ​too…​ ​I’m​ ​all​ ​stuffed​ ​up,​ ​an’​ ​it​ ​hurts​ ​to​ ​swallow.”​ ​Judging​ ​by​ ​the sound​ ​of​ ​his​ ​voice,​ ​he​ ​wasn’t​ ​lying.   

“You​ ​seemed​ ​fine​ ​when​ ​I​ ​saw​ ​you​ ​earlier​ ​today.​ ​C’mon,​ ​Dents,​ ​you​ ​can’t​ ​give​ ​up​ ​on​ ​me​ ​now!​ ​I showered​ ​for​ ​this​ ​and​ ​everything.”  

“I​ ​felt​ ​off​ ​this​ ​mornin’​ ​but​ ​I​ ​thought​ ​it​ ​would​ ​be​ ​okay…​ ​I​ ​really​ ​wanted​ ​to​ ​go,​ ​but​ ​I’m​ ​just​ ​not​ ​feelin’ up​ ​to​ ​it.”  

There​ ​was​ ​no​ ​answer,​ ​and​ ​for​ ​a​ ​moment​ ​a​ ​defeated​ ​silence​ ​hung​ ​over​ ​the​ ​room.

2D​ ​really​ ​expected​ ​that​ ​would​ ​be​ ​the​ ​end​ ​of​ ​it.​ ​He​ ​figured​ ​Murdoc​ ​would​ ​leave​ ​and​ ​skulk​ ​back​ ​into his​ ​Winnebago​ ​to​ ​drink,​ ​and​ ​2D​ ​wouldn’t​ ​see​ ​him​ ​again​ ​until​ ​he​ ​was​ ​feeling​ ​better​ ​and​ ​went​ ​over to​ ​talk​ ​to​ ​him,​ ​promised​ ​to​ ​make​ ​things​ ​up.   

So​ ​he​ ​was​ ​rather​ ​surprised​ ​to​ ​feel​ ​the​ ​mattress​ ​dip​ ​next​ ​to​ ​him,​ ​a​ ​calloused​ ​hand​ ​gently​ ​brushing the​ ​hair​ ​back​ ​from​ ​his​ ​forehead,​ ​a​ ​pair​ ​of​ ​lips​ ​pressing​ ​and​ ​lingering​ ​against​ ​his​ ​skin.  

“You​ ​don’t​ ​feel​ ​warm…”​ ​Murdoc​ ​muttered​ ​after​ ​he​ ​had​ ​pulled​ ​away.​ ​“You​ ​take​ ​your​ ​pills​ ​yet?”  

“Yeah.”  

“What​ ​about​ ​cold​ ​medicine?”  

“Yeah,​ ​I​ ​took​ ​some.​ ​Don’t​ ​worry.”  

“Good…”​ ​Murdoc’s​ ​voice​ ​trailed​ ​off​ ​into​ ​silence,​ ​and​ ​2D​ ​waited,​ ​wondering​ ​what​ ​he​ ​would​ ​do next.​ ​

After​ ​a​ ​moment,​ ​the​ ​hand​ ​left​ ​his​ ​forehead​ ​and​ ​Murdoc’s​ ​weight​ ​lifted​ ​from​ ​the​ ​bed.​ ​But instead​ ​of​ ​leaving,​ ​the​ ​bassist​ ​simply​ ​walked​ ​around​ ​to​ ​the​ ​other​ ​side​ ​of​ ​the​ ​bed.​ ​2D​ ​heard​ ​two quiet​ ​thumps,​ ​what​ ​he​ ​assumed​ ​was​ ​the​ ​sound​ ​of​ ​Murdoc’s​ ​boots​ ​hitting​ ​the​ ​floor.​ ​There​ ​was​ ​a rustle​ ​of​ ​blankets,​ ​and​ ​a​ ​quiet​ ​“Move​ ​over,​ ​Dents,”​ ​before​ ​2D​ ​felt​ ​arms​ ​wrap​ ​tight​ ​around​ ​his waist.​ ​

Despite​ ​feeling​ ​so​ ​under​ ​the​ ​weather,​ ​he​ ​couldn’t​ ​help​ ​but​ ​give​ ​a​ ​small​ ​smile,​ ​surprised and​ ​touched​ ​by​ ​Murdoc’s​ ​actions.  

“Thanks,​ ​Murdoc…”​ ​he​ ​said.  

“Nothin’​ ​to​ ​thank​ ​me​ ​for,”​ ​the​ ​bassist​ ​answered,​ ​his​ ​face​ ​nuzzled​ ​into​ ​his​ ​lover’s​ ​neck.  

“You​ ​okay?” 

 “I’m​ ​not​ ​the​ ​one​ ​who’s​ ​sick.”  

“No,​ ​I​ ​meant​ ​with​ ​missin’​ ​our​ ​date​ ​and​ ​all​ ​that.”  

There​ ​was​ ​a​ ​moment’s​ ​hesitation​ ​before​ ​Murdoc​ ​spoke​ ​again.​ ​“…Can’t​ ​say​ ​I’m​ ​not​ ​disappointed,” he​ ​admitted,​ ​“but​ ​you​ ​can’t​ ​just​ ​give​ ​up​ ​on​ ​something​ ​if​ ​it​ ​doesn’t​ ​go​ ​your​ ​way,​ ​y’know? Otherwise​ ​nothin’​ ​would​ ​ever​ ​get​ ​done.”   

“​​Yeah…”​ ​2D​ ​agreed.​ ​“This​ ​is​ ​nice,​ ​right?​ ​Just​ ​you​ ​an’​ ​me,​ ​cuddled​ ​up​ ​together-”  

“Shouldn’t​ ​you​ ​be​ ​getting​ ​some​ ​rest?”​ ​Murdoc​ ​cut​ ​him​ ​off.  

“Probably.”  

“Then​ ​shut​ ​it,​ ​bluebird,”​ ​he​ ​warned,​ ​but​ ​his​ ​voice​ ​was​ ​lacking​ ​its​ ​usual​ ​gruffness.​ ​His​ ​arms tightened​ ​almost​ ​protectively​ ​around​ ​his​ ​singer,​ ​their​ ​hands​ ​meeting​ ​and​ ​fingers​ ​intertwining. Murdoc​ ​began​ ​stroking​ ​his​ ​thumb​ ​slowly​ ​over​ ​2D’s​ ​hand,​ ​and​ ​the​ ​gentle​ ​motion​ ​helped​ ​lull​ ​him into​ ​sleep.     

[bleak-nomads]

aaah so I waited to review this cause it kinda. gutted me, you know? but the  a e s t h e t i c

Just, I feel deeply for Mac because he’s so goddamn trapped in all of this. To some extent Blondie is too, but there’s so much pain in how deeply Mac is trying to get free of this and he’s circling any drain he possibly can in order to do that. Including Murdoc.

It was a blessing you know, of its own, that though Second Chances Murdoc you never felt like you got a handle on -- he did want to do right by Mac at the end of the day. Same as Jack. God knows the man needs it. 

This:

“Idiots.”

The three syllables slurring into two with frightening imprecision. And yet the break in the mood is as neat, distressingly clean, as any cut from the red-handled knife lying between them.

hhhhnnng the language. the violence of that one harsh word coming from him. I love the way you use Mac’s distance so carefully, measuring it out for gutting moments such as this. But. also. jesus poor Jack:

Do you love the guy, or don’t you?

He wants to hear it. Wants to hear Mac just admit to the fervoured desires and wistful fantasies that have distracted him from customers and reruns of Westerns and having his balls tickled, for christ’s sake- and Jack knows whenever he’s yet again failed to press the point that he’s been putting off the question, because it will just about kill him to hear the answer.

Like. they had each other, and that was never enough for Mac. Not for all he couldn’t get away from the way people talked, reminding him of what he hated himself for. gggod these two are such a goddamn tragedy it hurts me. It hurts me the way Jack needs him so much too, but would let him go if he had to. 

Mmm. but here Mac is hurting him:

A coaxing finger, held too hard against his chin; Jack swallows and lets him. This is something the man’s always craved, hinted about in a fond, self-mocking fashion. Taking a boat out in the dead of winter, with no fear of discovery or modesty to hold him back, and hell, it hadn’t sounded like the worst idea. Something Mac’s wanted badly enough, that he’d figured maybe he’d get the truth out here alone.

The aesthetic is killer, but this is rather their much milder, muted, alleyway-fuck-if-I-give-him-what-he-wants, maybe-I-can-get-what-I-need analog. 

And of course it doesn’t work, because love just. isn’t transactional that way. Love doesn’t trade pain for other pain and that squares the score. 

If you can take your love away from pain -- well, you should want that. But the saddest thing about them is I feel like they just. they just can’t do that.

Anyways that’s why this hurt so good, thank you for writing it <3

pretty sure this is the last MacGyver fic I’ll wanna write for, like, quite a while to come. Second Chances, Jack/Mac, between an assassin deciding he wants a man and taking him for good. 

Keep reading

[our-smooty]

Twice the Strength, Twice the Power

Fandom: Gorillaz

Rating: Mature

Relationships: 2AceDoc

Tags: Relapsing, References to Drugs, Past Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Ace2Doc 

Summary: Murdoc doesn’t like who he is sober

OK, so it hadn't been his best night.

But it hadn’t been his worst night, not by a long-shot, and that was something, right? Murdoc gave a small depreciative laugh at himself as he sat leaning over to toilet bowl. The bathroom smelt like sick and sweat and every breath he took in made him want to puke whatever was left in his stomach out. He’d been at this for at least half-an-hour, had been sleeping fitfully before. And before that he’d been--

Well, he wasn’t too sure what he’d been up to, it was all a blur. But he knows the pounding behind his eyes and the ringing in his ears well enough to know it wasn’t good. Especially since he’d been trying to cut back, especially after he’d promised to give being sober a go.

The thing was, Murdoc wasn’t so sure he liked who he was when he was sober. Where before he’d been lively, prone to mood swings but generally active, sober he could feel the ache in his bones from age and the tiredness that came with years of substance abuse. He was less enthusiastic, less motived, less everything. So maybe he should have seen his little binge last night coming.

Oh, hold that thought, he was going to vomit again. There was hardly anything but bile in his stomach, but he heaved anyway. It made his eyes water and his chest ache in the worst ways. Satan he hoped he didn’t do something too stupid last night, didn’t fuck his body up beyond saving just as he was trying to save it.

“Murdoc?” Flashes of last night accompanied that voice. A bottle of something dark, and argument, plates smashing and shouting. So it’s been that bad, had it?

Ace was leaning down beside him now, bare knees against the tile. He was wearing a pair of 2D’s boxers, the purple ones with little blue stars. Murdoc had told him he looked like a twat, but really he though the colour popped against his skin tone.

“Lemme get you some water,” the younger bassist said, filling one of the variously used cups around the sink and holding it out. “Take a sip of that, alright?”

Murdoc did, spitting the first few gulps back out to wash his mouth. He finished the glass and let it clank to the floor, resting his head against the bathtub and his arm.

“Thanks.” Was that it? Shouldn’t he be apologizing for last night? Why bother really, it wasn’t like he deserved the chance at forgiveness.

If you don’t apologize, they can’t reject you.

“Can you stand?” Ace asked, still hovering just to the side. Murdoc didn’t want to look up at him, didn’t want to pity so he shook his head no. Ace sighed and sat beside him, close enough to touch but not initiating anything. It hadn’t taken long for Ace to realize Murdoc didn’t like being touched without warning.

They sat in silence with Murdoc retching every few minutes and Ace watching on with concern. It wasn’t long before he heard another set of footsteps outside the door. Please don’t be Stu, he thought, please not both of them at the same time.

“Oh, uh, hi!” Dammit. The singer stepped into the room and sat up on the counter, looming over both bassists on the floor. “You alrigh’, Murdoc?”

“Fantastic,” he spat out gruffly. The lights of the bathroom were too bright, the pressure to talk too much, his head felt like it was breaking in two.

More of last night was coming back to him. After he’d thrown and smashed the dishes, Stu had walked in and begun trying to talk him down. The details were still fuzzy, but he had the distinct memory of his hands on the singer’s chest, pushing him away and into the doorway. 2D had cried out a little in pain, but Murdoc hadn’t cared. He was too busy stomping up the stairs, probably in search of more booze.

“We told you to slow down last night,” the singer sighed, twiddling his thumbs idly. Ace shot him a look but didn’t say anything in Murdoc's defence. He didn’t mind their bluntness, he deserved Stu’s ire. “I’ve got a bruise, you know.”

Murdoc groaned and sat up, gagging into the toilet for a final time before flushing the contents. Out of the corner of his eye he saw 2D’s eyes widen a little at the shake in Murdoc’s limbs.

“Stu…” What was he supposed to say? Fuck he’d promised to stop doing this, and then he’d gone and cocked it all up spectacularly.

“Why don’t we get you back to bed, Murdoc. D, help me get him up.” 2D hopped down from the sink and Ace stood. They each looped an arm around him and got Murdoc on his feet. The older bassist tried his best to stand under his own power, but he’d used all of his strength getting to the loo in the first place. He let the two of them practically drag him back to his bedroom, and into his dirty bed.

For a few seconds, the other two stood around aimlessly. Murdoc couldn’t blame them, a few months ago he would have snapped at them to get out and fuck off.

“D’you need anything?” 2D asked. Murdoc shrugged and rolled over away from them. Maybe they’d get the hint and leave him alone to wallow for a while, or maybe they’d finally get smart and leave him altogether.

Unbeknownst to him, Stu and Ace shared a look. Of course, they knew what happened last night; they’d both been drunk too, but sober enough to know Murdoc’s behaviour had been bad. But they also knew the older bassist had been trying very hard to be a better person. 2D gave a tiny nod then gestured for Ace to get on the bed.

Murdoc felt Ace climb up onto his XL mattress. He crawled over so he was laying on his side in front of the Satanist, and was quickly followed by 2D laying down by Murdoc’s back. Their larger bodies bracketed Murdoc’s smaller one, caging him in and keeping him safe. It was a kind of comfort he didn’t feel he deserved in any way and that forced him to speak up.

“What’re you doing?” he croaked, resisting the urge to give into their embrace. He didn’t have much choice though, Stu was wrapping an arm around his waist and Ace was leaning in, fanning his fingers out against his chest.

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re holdin’ you,” Ace answered quietly, moving his hand up to cup Murdoc’s face. He resisted the urge to flinch away from the gentle touch.

“But I--” he couldn’t finish, didn’t really know how to. Behind him, he felt 2D sigh and nuzzle closer.

“We know, Muds. But we also know you’re sorry, and you’re tryin’ to do better.”

Ace nodded. “I know it’s hard, trust me I know. You’re not alone in this.”

Murdoc ducked his head. He knew he shouldn’t accept their forgiveness, that he hadn’t earned it at all. But he was so tired, and his chest still hurt but not nearly as much as his head. He could be weak just this once right? He was allowed to need things too.

With trembling arms, he reached out to Ace, a sob building in his chest. 2D tightened his hold and began leaving little kisses against Murdoc’s neck. He felt so loved, so safe, so undeserving.

“I-I-I’m s-sorry,” he sobbed into Ace’s chest. The younger bassist shushed him gently.

“We know babe, we know.”

“We love you Murdoc,” 2D hummed. Murdoc couldn’t answer, too overcome with an emotion he couldn’t pin down. It wrapped around his blackened heart like a balm, soften it. It made him cry harder.

“I don’t--don’t deserve this,” he snivelled while watching the wet stain on Ace’s shirt grow. “I-I’m bad, I-I’m--”

Ace cut him off with a soft kiss. Murdoc inhaled sharply but melted anyways. “Murdoc,” Ace said after he pulled away, “everybody relapses, everybody has bad days.”

He was shaking his head as Stu piped up. “You remember how hard it was for me to get offa all those pills?” It’d been hell, holding the singer close through body-wracking shivers, or holding him down when the want for relief became too much.

“But I hurt y-you,” Murdoc answered. He looked back over his shoulder at 2D with a teary gaze. “I p-promised I would never do t-that again and I did. ”

Knowing how important this was, Stu took a few seconds to formulate a response. “You did hurt me, but I know you didn’t mean to. Ace thinks so too. I was a little tipsy and I lost my balance. You didn’t mean to push me that hard.”

“I didn’t, Stu, I swear I didn’t.”

“Then we’re OK,” 2D said it like it was easy, like it was a simple fact and not bogged down with years of baggage. Again, Murdoc didn’t have the energy to fight. All he could do was give in to their attempts to comfort him and offer whatever comfort he could provide in return.

“Love you Doc,” Ace whispered, smiling. Murdoc let out a slight laugh, more a gasping grunt. “And I love you, Stu-Pot.”

The singer giggled as well and brushed one of his hands through Ace’s hair. “Love you too Acey, I’m glad we’re all here together.”

“Yeah,” Murdoc sighed, tired eyes closing as he listened to the singer talk. Ace and Stu noticed and they both smiled at the older man. They would be there for Murdoc when he needed it, just like he was there for them, for as long as possible. Especially if that meant getting to take more group naps.

[fallling-skys-blog]

2D x Reader

You weren’t the type of person to go up to a stranger and attempt to greet them but this time everything about the situation was different. You hadn’t noticed him at first since you came here to dance and enjoy yourself, not to find someone to potentially date or hookup with. You didn’t think there was anything wrong with that, it just wasn’t really your cup of tea.  If somebody bought you a drink, you would just politely thank them and slide it over to your friend when the person who had bought you the offending beverage wasn’t looking in your direction. That way, at least someone would get to enjoy it.

You'd first noticed him when you were dancing or, to be more specific, you'd noticed his unique hair color. You hadn't even known it was him, you just wanted to compliment the person on their cool hair and were thinking of a plan to approach the stranger when he'd turned around. When he'd briefly turned around to face your direction, you almost had a heart attack. It wasn't exactly everyday that you met the lead singer of your favorite band at a club on a whim.

You weren't really keen on the idea of going up to him and introducing yourself but you knew that you'd regret it for years if you didn't go for it now. As you debated whether or not you should talk to him, you watched as the girl he'd been talking to starting to get up to leave.

You did your best not to raise an eyebrow as you watched her trailing her hand down his arm as she made her way to the dance floor after whispering something in his ear. You told yourself that if you didn’t go up to someone who was in the same room as someone who made music that you loved, you’d regret it for the rest of your life.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep it together, as you walked over, sitting down in the sit that the other girl had recently been occupying. You almost felt bad taking the seat, in case the woman who’d just left had been his girlfriend.

You doubted your theory that she was though, considering he’d been dancing with someone else earlier who’d definitely had short black hair. If anything, that would be his potential lover.

You shook the random thoughts from you mind, giving yourself words of encouragement in your mind, before finally turning to him.

“You’re the singer from the band Gorillaz right?” you asked, almost yelling over the music to be heard.

“Yeah,” he responded, staring into the space in front of him.

That wasn’t exactly the kind of response you’d hoped for but you figured he probably got this all night and that’s why he was less than ecstatic to have somebody at the club recognize him.

“That’s pretty cool!” you respond.

He doesn’t even bother to reply and you sit there, staring at your hands in your lap and mentally work up the courage to say something again for what seems like forever as you try to remember his name.

“Your name’s 2D right?” You ask, hoping for some response.

“Tha’s right,” he responds.

“Cool…” You mumble under your breath and take up staring at the counter awkwardly, trying to steady your nerves.

It’s probably around a half hour of anxious thoughts and breathing exercises later when you decide to say something again.

“It was nice meeting you! I’m think I’m just going to go…” You trail off when he turns toward you.

“Why?”

You meet his black eyes and your heart skyrockets. He did have a point, you’d worked up all this courage to talk to him and you were just going to let the opportunity to meet the singer from your favorite band slip through your fingers. It was such a short and to the point question that it made you completely rethink leaving.

“I don’t know actually. I just figure that I can’t really control myself around people I like that much and I’m not exactly the type to go here for a hookup or anything. I just come here to dance and have fun with my friends, as weird as that is. I guess it’s not that weird but I have a feeling that’s not why most people come here.” You explain, sitting back down.

Your face goes red as you realize you just explained to a complete and utter stranger that you thought he was more than attractive. He doesn’t reply to but you have a feeling it’s not because he’s uninterested this time. He probably just doesn’t know how to respond to your detailed explanation.

You watch as he takes the cigarette he was smoking out of his mouth to take a sip of his drink.

“Does that help?” You ask.

“What do you mean by that?” He says.

“I mean...Well does it help you to be yourself without being nervous? I’ve heard alcohol just helps you to be more confident in everything that you normally do but I wouldn’t really know.” You explain.

“Not really. For some people I fink it might do that but mostly the liquid courage phrase is total rubbish. Just lets you forget what you do for tha time you do it. Think tha’s why Murdoc likes it so much, makes him forget all o’ the horrible stuff he does,” 2-D responds.

“Oh,” You answer, wondering who Murdoc is.

You never really got obsessed with the people in bands, just their music. It was pure luck that’d you’d gone to one of his band’s concerts before and recognized him tonight.

“Ever been to this state before?” You ask, trying to continue the conversation.

“We usually go to bigger places. Chicago and such, never been ‘ere before.”

“I can’t blame you on that one. I mean it’s not really the most interesting place to visit. At least from my experience living here,” you reply.

“You live near here then?” he asks.

“No, actually, I meant the state. I just came here to dance and my friend’s girlfriend lives near here so we decided to…” you trail off, before getting excited, “Actually I’ve never really been around here before at all! Maybe we could go exploring?”

You’re about to take it back when you realize that you’re asking a complete stranger to accompany you in exploring a dark place at night before he interrupts your worried thoughts.

“I’ll ‘ave to ask Noodle what time she wants me to be back ‘ere but that sounds a lot more interesting than just sitting around at a bar.”

“Awesome!” you reply, before realizing that you should probably text your friend as well.

He watches over your shoulder as you text her. It’s an action that would usually irritate you but right now it just serves to make you more nervous than you already were.

You: Hey, what time do you want to leave?

Misty: probably around 10

You check your phone for the time and realize that only gives you about an hour, before texting her back. It’d probably be smarter for you to say yes, be back quicker, and text her that you were leaving with a stranger but you’re starting to get an adrenaline rush from doing this and decide to risk it on the grounds that it’ll be fun. Not to mention, you get a vibe that this guy you met isn’t really dangerous in the slightest and hope you’re right about this as you send her back a text.

You: Think we can make it 12?

Misty: sure!

You: Thank you!!

You turn to him, “Shall we leave?”

“Alright,” 2-D responds.

You get up and lead the way out the door as he starts to talk to you.

“Your friend seems nice,” he remarks.

You’re extremely relieved that 2-D seems like he genuinely wants to want to conversate with you all of a sudden.

“She is. Well, not really nice exactly.”

You end up holding the door for him, old habits die hard and you’re used to escorting and hanging out with girls. The process is about as awkward as it sounds, especially considering the height difference and such. You continue talking so he doesn’t have the chance to say thanks or mention the fact that you were holding the door open.

“She’s like if you had a build-your-own character game and you chose to combine sarcasm, passive aggressiveness, and a caring nature. I mean, I’m not saying she’s not kind, she’s just loving with a twist.” You tend to ramble when your nervous.

“That’s good that she’s caring,” he replies, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Oh she totally is! I-” you say, stopping mid-sentence distracted.

He’s even more attractive when you can see his face better in the light of a street lamp. You notice for the first time that his two front teeth are missing and you’re a little curious how that happened, not that you’re going to ask.

“Somefing wrong?” He asks when you stop talking, seemingly at random.

“No! I just, you’re very attractive?” you respond and then immediately regret it.

At least it was better than saying he looked absolutely amazing in the light of night, but it was still embarrassing. You tended to reply to any questions in complete honesty which you didn’t consider the greatest trait to have at the moment.

You’re relieved when he smiles back and looks down at you in confusion. You can’t help but smile back embarrassed and then look down at the sidewalk, muttering a half-hearted sorry under your breath.

“I’ve heard I’m attractive but I never knew I could make someone stop talking ‘cause of that,” he jokes.

“You learn something new everyday I guess,” you respond, still keeping your gaze down but starting to walk away.

You look back after you notice that he’s not following you.

“You coming?” you ask.

“Didn’t know if I was allowed to,” he says, walking to catch up with you.

“Of course, who else would I stop talking to at random to admire but you?”

“Tha’s a good point, right there. Guess I’m pretty important then, huh?”

“Definitely. So, if I can ask, who were you dancing with back there?”

“What do ya mean…? Oh! You’re talking about Noodle.”

“I like her name, it’s cool.”

“I’ll tell ‘er that. She gets loads of people hitting on her with bad food puns all o’ the time so she’ll probably be grateful,” 2-D says.

“Yeah, Noodle’s great. She’s like a little sister ya know? It’s always real fun when she takes ya anywhere, never know what going to happen but it turns out great every time. You should meet her sometime, she’s a real unique person, jus’ like you.”

“I’m unique?” you ask, surprised.

“Well from what I’ve heard from ya, you are. I don’t see a lot of gorgeous ladies going to clubs just to dance and inviting strangers for walks.” He responds.

“Huh, I guess you’re right in that regard. I don’t usually talk to a lot of people at the bar though, so you’re pretty special,” you say.

“I am? Tha’s a stroke of luck right there. Glad that I am, special and all that,” 2-D comments and it makes you smile.

“What made you stop dancing with Noodle and head to the bar?” You ask.

“Well I get these killer ‘eadaches sometimes. Tha’s what happened, I got a real bad one so I ‘ad to sit down. Had a smoke and tried to get rid of it by sort of relaxin’ over there. That’s when some lady came along and she was real loud. You did too, right after that. Sorry if I wasn’t really all that inviting or anything, my noggin’ was really hurtin’.”

Well that explained why he was ignoring you at first when you came up to him at least.

“That’s okay, I ended up getting to hang out with you anyways right?”

“You most definitely did,” 2-D answers.

“Tell me more about yourself, you must have a pretty interesting life right? I mean you’re the singer of a hit band and all that jazz,” You cringe at the last add-on, it sounded like you’re some kind of interviewer.

He doesn’t seem to notice though, because he answers you and tells you all about everything.

“Not all that it’s cracked up to be, let me tell you. Got locked in a room and tortured by a whale for a chunk of my life, I did,” your eyes widen significantly at that, “Murdoc’s a pain. Do you know the names of everyone in the band? Usually fans do but you might not.”

“I don’t, sorry. I usually just listen to a band’s music and love it. I don’t normally get invested in the band and it’s members like most people, I just feel like the music speaks for itself, I guess. The only reason I recognized you was because I went to one of your shows once,” you answer honestly.

He actually seems to be a little relieved at that. You imagine it’s from girls only being nice to him because he was in a famous band or other kinds of things.

“I kind of like that. Well, the band’s got four of us in it. Murdoc’s the bass player, Noodle plays the guitar, and Russel plays the drums. You already know I’m the singer, used to be Murdoc but he can’t really sing unless you like listening to nails on a chalkboard. We’re a sort of family, the four of us together.” He explains to you.

You have to admit you’re more than hooked on every word. He’s an interesting person to be around and his accent is almost hypnotizing, making sure that you listen to whatever it is that he has to say.

“That’s so awesome,” You say, before adding on, “Except the whole being captured by a whale thing.”

You attempt to get him to talk more about himself. After a little bit, he does and you get him to talk about his band, interests, and Noodle. You gather that she’s his favorite even if he doesn’t explicitly state it. You’re surprised that you just find how much he cares about her cute and aren’t really too jealous.

During the conversation, he’ll sometimes turn it back around to you. You do your best to keep from rambling and manage short responses. You don’t think he’d be against it, if you only talked, but you just prefer to listen to what people have to say, especially when it comes to him.

You eventually reach the end of the street and turn to him, “We should probably turn around…”

“We could explore the other street if you want,” he offers.

You get a feeling that neither of you particularly want to turn around. You realize how close you are and end up staring up at him. He eventually stares back down at you and gives you a confused smile.

“Is somefing wrong?” He asks.

“No. I mean unless it’s wrong that I want to kiss you?” you say, blushing.

“If it is, guess we’re both in trouble then,” 2-D responds.

Before you know it, he leans down to kiss you. His lips meet yours gently once before you he leans back.

He’s extremely gentle and you get the feeling that he was leaving you with the option of going back and not continuing on with anything. You had said that you weren’t the type for hookups but you didn’t really feel inclined to stop.

“Can I kiss you again?” you say.

“You don’t have to ask,” 2-D answers and you stand up on the tips of your toes so that you can reach his lips.

You kiss him softly at first and are more than happy when he kisses you back. You want to be as close to him as possible and soon desperation to be nearer to him shows itself in your kissing. You wrap your arms around his neck and bring your body as close to his as possible.

He pushes you up against the wall of a building as he kisses you and your entire body is filled with want as he slides his hands from the small of you back to your waist. You moan softly as he moves his lips from yours to your neck.

He pulls your shirt up and you realize that you’re in the middle of an alley, with someone who you technically just met, and you’re about to have sex for the first time. When he moves his hands lower it takes all of your strength to push him off of you as gently as you can.

“Did I do somefing wrong?” 2-D asks.

“No, no that was more than wonderful. I just don’t want to…” you try to explain, realizing how out of breath you are as you speak.

You don’t want to admit your a virgin and that all you want to do at this moment is lose the label in this dark alley but you know that you’ll regret it later. If there’s a chance that you’ll get to see him again, you have a feeling that you shouldn’t go through with this.

“Tha’s okay, you don’t really need an excuse, I just didn’t want to do something to upset you is all,” he responds, as you have an inner struggle to decide what to do.

“Thank you. I just don’t, want to be someone who you...you know, in an alley and then forget about the next day. If that makes any sense.”

“That’s fair, I don’t think anyone wants that, really.”

“I guess not,” you laugh, pushing a stray hair out of your face.

You want to see him again, as laughable as it is. You know it’s pretty unlikely that he’ll say yes or even want to be with you again if you’re not exactly willing at all times but it’s worth a chance.

As he pulls his phone out from his back pocket and signs it in, you get your idea.

“Noodle texted me, she’s ‘bout to drive home. I should probably join ‘er…” he trails off, looking at you, almost as if he was waiting for your approval.

“Can I see your phone for a second?” you ask.

“Sure, just don’t change the password or anything like that,” he responds, nervously.

“Of course,” you mumble, distracted by your new mission.

You finally find where he keeps his contacts and resist the urge to ask who Paula was. It was probably just his mother’s name, you tell yourself and click on the button to create a contact. You write your name in, along with your number, adding “Call Me!” next to your name in parenthesis.

You’re worried that it’s a little desperate but you don’t know how drunk he is and you want him to at least remember to call you. You hand him back his phone with a nervous smile, hoping he’s not upset at you adding your contact.

“So that’s your name? I can’t believe I never bothered to ask,” 2-D responds, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“It’s okay, now you know right? Should we, start walking back?” You ask.

It’s probably ridiculous that you feel like your going to miss him, you haven’t even known him longer than a couple of hours.

“Yeah, right, let’s walk back,” he responds, broken from whatever trance he got in when you were messing around with his phone.

It’s quiet on the way back but not a bad kind. You figure that he’s either spacing out or thinking hard about something from the way he acts and you decide it’s better not to disturb him.

As you approach the club, you hear the music from where you two are walking, and then spot Noodle. You give her a nervous smile, trying not to seem sketchy, especially considering how much you know 2-D likes her.

“Who’s this?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

He explains about how you met, decided to take a walk together, and what your name is, before Noodle gives you a semi-smile. You have a feeling that she hasn’t decided how she feels about you yet.

“I’m Noodle,” she says, sticking out her hand.

“It’s really cool to meet you,” you say.

“I’d hope so, 2-D usually talks about like I’m some legendary creature,” she jokes.

You smile and almost immediately decide that you like her and she’s definitely worth the reputation that he’s built for her.

“I’m just tryin’ to be honest about how I think…” he trails off, trying to find an excuse for building her up so much.

“I’m just kidding 2-D, I appreciate you being so kind. Are we going to see your friend again, soon?”

“If things go right,” he answers and you can’t help but be relieved.

“Good, she doesn’t seem like the type to leave because of Murdoc,” she answers, bluntly.

“The bass player?” you ask.

“You might end up seeing what I mean. Let’s just say he has a personality,” Noodle replies, before turning to leave.

You get the feeling that she’s used to people following and admiring her as you watch her walk away. She doesn’t strike you as rude, just focused on what she wants to do.

You finally turn away from watching her and look up at 2-D, using all your courage to lean up and kiss him after remembering him saying you didn’t have to ask.

“Thanks for walking with me,” You tell him.

“I’d gladly do it again,” he responds.

You smile and he walks away, somewhat hesitantly as if he has something else he wants to say. You watch him leave for a little bit, before forcing yourself to go back into the club.

As you make your way back into the bar, you run into Misty, her girlfriend, and a group of your friends. She looks at you like you’ve got three heads and you look back in confusion for sometime before she finally talks.

“You...you have a hickey. On your neck...A couple of them actually.” She manages to get out.

Your face goes red as you try to figure out how you can hide the marks when you go home that night. In a way, you’re proud of them but you don’t really think that they’re realy suited for anything you have to do later on this week and you don’t want Misty to be tempted to comment on them anymore than she’s done unconciously so far.

You place one of your hands over some of the marks on your neck, fighting a smile, before you finally speak.

"So do any of you guys happen to have something I could use as a scarf?"

[our-smooty]

Take Me to Church Chapter 17: Bridge

Fandom: Gorillaz

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: 2doc

Tags: Car Accidents Angst Hurt/Comfort Drugs/Alcohol Implied/Referenced Suicide SuicideHealing Everything Hurts

Summary: The band is back together, but things are… weird to say the least. But when a crisis arises, can they pull it all together and be a family again?

Link to other Chapters on my Blog!

2D walked back to Noodle’s room like he was in a dream. The conversation he’d had with Murdoc played over and over in his brain like a record on repeat. He wasn’t really sure what had even happened, the entire exchange was confusing. One second he was comforting his mate like he’d done quite a few times in the last couple weeks, and the next Murdoc was pushing him for… something.

He reached Noodle’s room and opened the door. Russel was seated at her side and looked up when he walked in, obviously looking over Stu’s shoulder for Murdoc. Noodle was sitting up a little more and turned her head as well, smiling at him.

“Hey Russ, Noods. Sorry, I had to rush out like that,” he apologized, sitting on her other side. Noodle blinked twice and Russel nodded in agreement.

“Don’t worry about it D, where’d Murdoc?” 2D looked around nervously.

“Uh, he’s still takin’ a break, you know how he’s been…” Russel nodded.

“Yeah I was tellin’ Noodle about it a little. She was confused about why he ran out like that,” Russel explained. 2D hoped he didn’t tell her too much. He didn't want Noodle to spend the time she should be resting worrying.

“Thanks, Russ. Anythin’ else I missed?”

They sat for another hour, Russel and Noodle communicating with 2D chiming in occasionally. He felt bad that he was so distracted, but his mind kept drifting back to Murdoc. He couldn’t understand what the bassist wanted from him, nothing he gave was good enough. He’d tried being a good friend, he tried the sex, and nothing seemed to help. He just wanted more and more from the singer and 2D didn’t know if he had anything else to give.

Eventually, Noodle began to doze off, so Russel decided they should leave. “We’ll be back to visit soon, OK? I have to ask the doctor how often we can visit but we’ll be here as often as we can, alright baby?” Noodle nodded, her eyelids heavy. 2D smiled and leaned in to give her a hug.

“Love you, Noods. We’ll be back soon, and maybe I can bring some of your stuff to make this room feel a lil’bit more homey, yeah?” Noodle nodded again, unable to wrap her arms around him, but 2D knew that if she could she would. Russel gave her a hug and kiss as well, and they left the room. Stu looked back as they walked out into the hall, catching the moment Noodle closed her eyes in exhaustion.

“Let’s go get Murdoc from the break room,” Russel said, taking the lead. “Maybe we can stop for lunch or something on the way back.”

“I dunno Russ, I kind of feel like jus’ goin’ home,” 2D answered tiredly. They came up on the door to the breakroom, the blinds still drawn, and Russel walked inside. 2D followed.

“Well shit,” Russel sighed, taking in the state of the room. Furniture was overturned and a lamp smashed. “What the hell happened?”

With a deep breath, 2D stepped out of the room and into the hall. This was his fault, he was a bad friend, oh God. Russel followed him and placed a hand on his shoulder, comforting and grounding. “D, I think you need to tell me what’s really been goin’ on between you and Murdoc.”

Murdoc was walking quickly down the street. He had no plan or idea of where he was going; his mind was screaming the same thing over and over.

Get OUT Get OUT Get OUT

How could he have been so stupid! Of course, 2D didn’t feel the same way Murdoc did, if he even felt anything at all. Liar, you know you’re in love with him, have been--

Murdoc shouted, grabbing his hair and pulling hard right there in the middle of the sidewalk. A few pedestrians crossed to the other side of the road to avoid him. It was all fucked up now because of him, just like always. The band was going to fall apart and he’d have nothing, a washed-up nobody who would die alone.

Just like your father.

He continued walking rapidly with no destination in mind. Thoughts raced through his mind, from what had happened at the hospital, to how it was all his fault, to thoughts of his childhood. That nightmare from last night kept replaying in his head over and over, he couldn’t escape it, the thoughts mixing up with 2D’s confused face as he left the hospital break room.

Finally, he walked past a bar. Without a second’s hesitation, he walked in a sat down, waving down the bartender. “Give me three shots of rum to start and keep em’ comin’,” he ordered. The bartender looked pissed at being ordered around but did as asked.

Murdoc downed the shots one after the other, gesturing for more. He couldn’t get drunk fast enough to outpace the thoughts in his head. Noodle on the bed, awake but still so broken. 2D sitting with him in the break room, holding him gently as he cried. The warm, loving feeling he’d got as the singer rocked them back and forth.

Then the shock, the anger and resentment. The sadness he’d felt as Stuart pulled away and left the room, denying what was going on between them. Murdoc knew they weren’t acting like best mates of fuck buddies. He’d had sex friends in the past and those relationships had never gone past a bit of post-fuck cuddling or sharing a cigarette in bed. No fucking kissing, or going out on pseudo-dates.

Thing is, Murdoc wasn’t exactly against doing all of that stuff with Stu. Sure at first he’d been a little weirded out; in general he didn’t have romantic relationships with anyone, much less an idiot like 2D. But he’d slowly gotten used to it and opened up to the singer. He found himself wanting to be close to him, wanting to tell him things he’d never told anyone before but scared that the singer would reject him.

And he’d taken that leap. It blew up in his face spectacularly. Now he’d lost the singer, and soon he’d lose everything else. He downed another shot, then another.

“Buddy if you keep going like that I’m gonna have to cut you off,” the bartender said. Murdoc sneered.

“It’s you’re fuckin’ job to serve booze and you’re gonna cut someone off for gettin’ a little tipsy?” he snapped. The bartender rolled his eyes but served him another shot. “D’you even know who I am?”

“No, as far as I know, you’re just another sad sod day drinking himself into a stupor.” The bartender banged the half-full bottle of rum on the counter. “Take this and leave me alone.”

Delighted, Murdoc pushed the shot glasses aside and took a swig straight from the bottle. Maybe now he could finally forget about everything.

He sat at the bar for a few hours, working his way through the bottle of rum, and then through a few shots of whiskey before the bartender finally cut him off. With a grumble he wobbled off the barstool and out the door in search of another bar, but as he weaved down the street he realized he probably wouldn’t find one that would serve him. Instead, he stopped at a bench and sat.

The alcohol was doing very little to help his black mood. Instead it seemed to make it worse, forcing him to dwell on things better left forgotten. Like how, without Gorillaz, he really had no reason to live. Or how the one person he’d ever thought he might have a real chance with had left him on the floor of a hospital.

Because he did love Stuart, he realized; he had for a while. For longer than he'd like to admit it’d been something closer to a sick obsession and he’d taken that out on the singer. Since coming back from Plastic Beach he’d tried harder to be nicer to the band, and when that hadn’t worked--because he was a bastard, through and through--he’d isolated himself. But then everything happened with Noodle and he’d been forced to be close with 2D again and well, it’d brought back those old feelings.

“A lotta good they did me,” he mumbled to himself. If he’d just kept to himself then Noodle wouldn’t have been hurt and he wouldn’t have gotten near to the singer and none of those would have happened. If he hadn’t been around, then he wouldn’t have been there to ruin things, like usual.

He wasn’t fucked up enough to be thinking like this. He reached for his cellphone to text his dealer, but remembered it was still broken from the other day at the hospital. He stood again; he’d have to find something the old fashioned way, which involved a lot more walking than he wanted to do. He didn’t have a choice though, he needed something to get him out of his head, so he stood up, stumbling, and continued down the road.

2D sat on the sofa at home, letting Russel mull over everything he’d said. He’d explained how they were sleeping together, how troubled Murdoc had been, and how the bassist had all but confessed to him in the break room. Russel stayed silent through it all, nodding along occasionally. Now he sat back in his armchair and crossed his arms.

“Well, I knew you two were fuckin’ but I had no idea about all that other shit,” he said finally, startling Stu.

“Y-you knew?” he squealed, blushing. Russel laughed slightly.

“You two aren’t exactly quiet D. And besides, I’ve been watching you two fawn over each other for decades.” 2D blushed harder.

“S-sorry, Russ,” he apologized and Russel laughed again, waving him off.

“Don’t sweat it D, I’ve got pretty good headphones. That’s not what I’m worried about,” he paused, looking unsure.

‘Whaddaya mean, Russ?” 2D asked. He was glad the larger man wasn’t angry at him for all the noise. Russel was a gentle person normally, but when he got angry he really got angry.

“Well from what you’ve told me Murdoc’s a lot more unstable than I realized. I worried about what he might do after your fight,” he explained. 2D nodded with a guilty look on his face.

“I shouldn’ta lef’ him there on his own.” Russel shook his head and stood.

“Nah, it’s not your fault D, you can’t be expected to do everything perfectly all the time.” He grabbed his jacket from the peg. They’d only been home an hour. “I’m going to go out and drive around, see if I can find him. You stay here in case he comes back, ok?”

“O-Ok Russ. Thanks for doin’ this.” Russel shrugged and gave 2D a half-smile.

“He’s my friend too. He’s important to all of us.” With that, he walked out leaving Stu alone in the living room.

“Bloody hell Muds,” he whispered to himself. He was torn between being extremely worried for the bassist and pissed that he’d once again he’d made it all about him. Couldn’t they have one outing where Murdoc didn’t entirely derail the situation?

Most likely he was out at some pub getting drunk. Maybe he’d find a nice bird to shag, and this whole sex-friends thing could be behind them. The idea didn’t sit quite right with Stu, the idea of Murdoc with another person despite the fact that 2D himself had called off their arrangement himself just hours before. He just… he didn’t know what to do with the bassist and all these feelings. With a groan, 2D got up and headed upstairs in search of something to give him some relief from the stress.

His good migraine pills had run out a few days ago, and he’d been making do with some of the other assortment he kept for “emergencies”. Now though he wanted to take a few and zone out, maybe smoke some pot, and forget today had ever happened. A handful of pills and one joint later 2D was back in the living room, zoned out in front of the TV with some slasher flick playing.

An insistent buzzing noise broke him from his daze. Things felt like they were moving in slow motion as he picked up the phone and saw a number of texts from Russel, and none from Murdoc.

No sign of him around our area, going to check the pubs

Still nothing, has he come home yet?

2D, are you there?

Sluggishly he texted back. Yeah, he’s not here. 2D tossed his phone to the side again and gazed out the window, where it was getting dark. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting on the sofa and he didn’t think it even mattered. Murdoc would turn up when he wanted, and not a second before. The drugs were stopping him from being too worried about what might happen.

The TV continued to play, but 2D wasn’t watching anymore. He was a hundred feet above his body, soaring through the clouds among the birds. He didn’t have a care in the world, and nothing that happened today mattered. Everything was fine. There was no hospital drama or feelings to deal with, just never-ending peacefulness. 2D thought back to the earlier years of the band, when he was this high all the time; he missed it.

He’d only stopped due to the forced sobriety of Plastic Beach. Sure Murdoc had brought some of his pills along but between the stress of being held captive and the fear of the whale they hadn’t lasted long. Being sober for those long months had convinced him of two things; that he could be sober if he wanted to, and that he never, ever wanted to be that sober again. Since coming back and working on their newest album he’d picked up a lot of his bad habits again, but he’d also been more aware of what he’d been taking, more careful. Except for now, that is.

The sun had completely set by the time Russel came back. 2D was still on the sofa, zoned out when the bang of the door startled him. Russel stomped through to the living room and sat down beside him tiredly.

“Nothing. No sign of him at any of use usual bars, or on the streets. I even checked some liquor stores,” he sighed, sinking down into the cushions. 2D starred for a moment, the snapped back into focus.

“Oh yeah, Murdoc. Yeah, I’m s-sure he’ll be back soon,” 2D answered. Russel shot him a weird look.

“What’s up with you, D? You were pretty worried about him when I left.” He leaned in closer, inspecting 2D with a practised eye. “You’re fuckin’ high, aren’t you?”

Again, 2D took a moment to process the information before scowling. “So what if I am?”

“Whatever man, just thought you were better than that now.” Russel went to stand. “I thought maybe you were actually really worried about Muds.”

“I am!” Stuart protested. “I-I’m jus’ so sick of everythin’ being about him all the damn time!” Russel turned to him. He looked more tired than 2D had seen him in a long time.

“I am too D, but I think he really needs help this time.” 2D slumped in defeat, knowing Russel was right. Murdoc had been flirting with death for years, ever since the band broke up after El Manana. Thinking back to Plastic Beach 2D couldn’t count the number of times he’d found the other man drunk, high, and sobbing overlooking the sea.

“I know,” Stu sighed. “I’m jus’ really tired of it all Russ.”

“Me too D. Why don’t you go on to bed and get yourself sorted out?” 2D nodded and stood as well, reaching out to hold onto Russel’s arm when the world tilted. It would be nice to spend some time alone for the first time in over a week.

“Yeah, OK Russ. Lemme know if he shows up yeah?” Russel nodded and 2D made his way to his bedroom. He flopped face down on the messy bed and closed his eyes, feeling every cell in his body calling out for sleep. Distantly he felt anxiety over Murdoc not being home but before he could worry about it, he was drifting off.

Russel sat back down in front of the TV with a mug of coffee and some cookies he found in the cupboards. After driving around for hours, and with a possibly long night of waiting ahead, he figured he deserved a treat. He settled in to flick through the channels, hoping there was something decent on.

He eventually settled on a rerun of Full House. Barely watching the TV he checked his phone every few minutes, hoping for some word from Murdoc. The bassist hadn’t replaced his phone since he smashed it, but Russel hoped that some fan might catch a glimpse of him and post on Twitter. So far, there’d been nothing.

Instead of letting it get him down though, he tried to focus on the good. Noodle had been awake and responding to them at the hospital, something Russel had worried would never happen. He’d tried to keep up a positive outlook for 2D and Murdoc but in the back of his mind he’d feared the worst. Noodle was like his daughter, he’d tried to raise her right and keep her safe all these years, and he’d failed time and time again.

But he tried not to think like that anymore. His therapist, the one he’d been seeing since after Plastic Beach, told him he couldn’t protect everybody all the time. That sometimes he needed to protect himself first, and the others second. He was still working on that.

Eventually, it started getting later and later and Russel was starting to lose hope that they’d see the bassist at all that night when the front door started rattling. The tell-tale sound of keys missing the lock, again and again, echoed through the front hall. Russel got up to let Murdoc in, knowing that if he was as drunk as expected, it might take him until dawn just to get the door unlocked. Swinging it open he took in the view of the bassist slumped against the doorway.

Murdoc was a mess. He was unsteady on his feet, wavering from side to side even with the door the steady him. Despite the cold outside sweat was dripping down his face, and his coat was wide open. Russel moved to the side and waved him in, staying close in case he fell over.

“Fuck Muds you look awful,” he said as the other man stumbled inside. Murdoc didn’t say anything back, instead choosing to amble into the kitchen. Russel rolled his eyes and followed, knowing the kind of trouble Murdoc could get into while like this.

“Are you just drunk, or are you high too?” he asked as the bassist rifled through the fridge. Judging by the unintelligible grunting he got as a response, he assumed both.

“What’d you take, Muds? Do I need to be worried?” Murdoc pulled a bottle of liquor from the fridge and popped the cap off, taking a large gulp. Russel tried to grab it from him, but the other man managed to dodge. “Seriously man? I’m tryin’ to talk to you.”

“F’off,” Murdoc mumbled, deciding the table was too far away and sitting on the floor. Russel wasn’t sure what to do with the sulking man. Usually 2D or Noodle were the ones to talk Murdoc down during a bender, with Russel in the background to supply the muscle if needed. The Satanist still had a sort of fearful respect for him ever since he broke his nose back at Kong.

“Murdoc, what did you take tonight?” he tried again, kneeling down on the floor as to not loom over the other. Murdoc fidgeted with the bottle and avoided looking at the drummer.

“Dunno, prob’ly some speed, an’ some pills,” he answered finally. Russel heaved a sigh.

“How long ago, how much?” he pressed, worried there might be another hospital trip in the near future.

“Loads,” Murdoc said, laughing a little. “As m-much as I could g-get mate.” He took another pull from the bottle before Russel managed to snatch it back.

“OK, that’s enough. I’m already goin’ to have to watch you all night I don’t need you puking as well.” Murdoc didn’t answer. Russel groaned as he stood up and put the bottle on top of the fridge where the shorter man couldn’t reach, then held a hand out. “Come on, let's get you to the sofa at least before you pass out.”

Murdoc took the hand with a sneer and allowed himself to be lead into the living room. Russel dumped him none too gracefully on the couch and sat back down in his chair. The bassist lay face down on the sofa, motionless. Unsure if he should be letting Murdoc sit like that in case he suffocated, Russel watched over him closely.

“Russ…” Murdoc said quietly. “I dunno w-w-what I did wrong this t-time.”

“What do you mean?” That was the most coherent thing Murdoc had managed since he got in the door.

“With D.” Murdoc didn’t say anymore but Russel got the gist. He hadn’t wanted to get in the middle of this but it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice.

“I dunno man, I don’t think D even knows,” he answered. Murdoc shuffled around on the sofa until he was face up, staring at the ceiling. Russel thought that for once he looked his age.

“I think I migh’ l-l-lo--” he gagged and choked a bit in the middle of his sentence and Russel wished he’d thought to bring a bucket. “I th-think I really like him Russ.”

What was he supposed to say to that? Luckily Murdoc didn’t seem to be stopping any time soon. “I-I f-fucked up so many times b-but he said--he said he forgave me and--”

Murdoc started crying then, something, outside of the last week, Russel had never really seen him do. He wasn’t sure what he should do, in general, he knew Murdoc hated being touched, but the man was also tearing up on their sofa. “Murdoc…”

“A-and now h-he-he hates me,” Murdoc sobbed, throwing a hand over his eyes dramatically. Russel considered going upstairs to grab 2D, but given his state earlier it wasn’t likely he’d be sober enough to have a conversation, let alone face Murdoc.

“I don’t think he hates you, Muds. It’s just complicated,” Russel said, trying to be comforting. It didn’t work, and Murdoc continued to cry. Feeling lost, he watched as the bassist sobbed, gradually petering off into quite sniffled and moans. “Come on man, let’s get you up to bed yeah?”

Russel helped Murdoc stand, then walked him up the stairs. Murdoc was floppy and uncoordinated and a few times Russel had to bodily lift the man to get him going in the right direction. When they got to the top of the stairs Murdoc walked himself to his bedroom as Russel followed, wanting to make sure the other went to his own bed and not 2D’s. When he passed over the singer’s door for his own, Russel breathed a sigh of relief.

“You goin’ to be ok by yourself Muds?” Russel asked. Murdoc shrugged and landed face down on the bed, like the sofa, with a grunt. “Ok, well I’ll come check on you later.”

“Russ…” Russel turned around to see the bassist looking over at him. He paused to let him continue. “D’you think… d’you think I h-have a chance?”

The drummer thought for a moment. “I think D really cares about you, and that you really care about him. Other than that I don’t know.” Murdoc sighed and rolled over on the bed, still wearing his jacket and boots. Russel assumed that was the end of their conversation and he retreated to his own room for the night. Hopefully both men would be sober in the morning and able to work this out.