The Better Pill (2D X Murdoc)

1

As Murdoc sat on the floor in his little hideout, he kept eyeing the note left by the stranger- the warm, navy blue blanket already wrapped around his shoulders.

For the first time in quite a long while, someone had actually noticed his pain instead of just letting it sit in the unspoken void that only grew in Murdoc's resentment towards others. He read the note again and again, his thoughts wondering to who could've possibly done it. Maybe it was just a prank by his school bullies. He knew he shouldn't be getting his hopes up for a possible 'friend'. He didn't have luxuries like that. Let alone a lover.

The teen folded up the note to its original state and shoved into the back pocket of his torn, black jeans. Soon after, he picked up a piece of stray, untainted paper from the rubbish bin and wrote a note of his own.

-----

Thanks.

-----

He placed the note on the left side of the trash can, securing it with tape. It wasn't long by any means, but it was sincere. He didn't even know if said mystery person would return back to visit Murdoc's hideout and see the little note he left. Sadly, between the blanket and sappy 'thank you' he'd written, he almost felt like a school girl waiting to find her soulmate through some kind of exchanging-letters bullshit.

The thought alone made him cringe.

He wiped away what was left of the blood under his nose and carefully laid down on his side to take a nap, his thoughts drifting back to the letter against his own will.

. . .

The next morning, Murdoc awoke with a screaming headache and sore body. But he was warm. The blanket had gotten him all through the night without the cold waking him once. The raven haired boy felt a smile slowly forming on his bloody, cracked lips but didn't let it last long. 

He needed to get to school and get cleaned up. Not that he particularly cared about school, but he looked like a disaster. Earlier on in the year, he'd been smart enough to bring a spare change of clothes in case an event such as this one were to play out.

Murdoc slowly rose to his feet, grunting as his bones cracked from sleeping on cement. He gave himself a minute to balance back out- mentally and physically- before continuing to exit from the alleyway and make his way towards school.

. . .

The school was pretty empty at the time he arrived, still twenty-five minutes until the first bell rang. Since he rarely came to school, he was stared at like some kind of foreign exchange student. There were so many rumors floating around about him that it didn't really phase him anymore. Most students just backed away from him while others would pick fights and beat him up even more than his already battered state. Luckily, such a fate didn't befall him this morning. 

Murdoc swiftly made his way to his locker, grabbing the change of clothes and heading to the locker room afterwards. 

He entered one of the many shower stalls and stripped off his sweaty, bloody clothing (but not before taking out his mystery note and leaving it gently to the side); setting them on a bench within the small shower room where they wouldn't get wet.

Layers of grime, dirt, blood, and other substances came running off him, stinging his cuts as it went. He ignored the sensation and washed the grease from his hair, or at least tried to.

After a few more minutes of washing up, Murdoc shut off the water and dried himself, making sure to leave his larger cuts undisturbed. He swiftly changed into his black, long-sleeved v-neck, tight blue jeans, and black Cuban heeled boots which were thoroughly worn in.  

He gathered his items from the suffocating stall, safely shoving the special note in his back pocket, and exited from the locker rooms. At this point, the halls had begun to crowd with angst filled and hormonal teenagers, much to Murdoc's displeasure.  

The day had officially began. 

. . .

Classes passed by at an excruciatingly slow pace. When lunch had come around, Murdoc had gone around back to smoke and unfortunately was met with a pack of jocks who took to beating him almost immediately after laying their eyes on him.

By the end of the day, he was covered in entirely new bruises and scratches. He shuffled down the halls, glaring at anyone who dared to look his way as he exited from the building. Sometimes it surprised him just how much everyone forced themselves to ignore him. Teachers didn't do a damned thing when they saw the beat up boy walking down the halls with visible scars and distress. It pissed him off how low society had fallen. It pissed him off even more when he thought about how weak it made him look.

Kicking pebbles down the sidewalk as he made his way home, Murdoc retrieved the mystery note from his back pocket and read it to calm himself down. The world might've been full of oblivious idiots who only knew how to stare and laugh, but one person noticed. He was sure of that much.