Plastic Prison (Gorillaz fanfic) (2D x Murdoc)

Chapter 14

(2D’s POV)

“Get up.”

“What?” I mumbled, drowsiness coating my voice. I looked at the bedside clock. It just hit noon, so I've only been asleep for a few hours at best. “Why?”

“You’re nothing but skin and bones, so here, eat it.” A plate was set in my legs while I sat up. My hair pointed in every direction possible, I'm sure. The plate had eggs and toast, simple, yet pretty good.

“But I'm not hungry.” I'm not sure if that was true truth or not. Between the pain and nausea, all I could focus on were painkillers. Though, those did often make me numb to hunger pains too…

“I don't care. Eat.”

And with that being said, he left. Locking the door being him probably. From one cage to another I guess, although this was much better than my basement room.

The eggs were pretty good actually. At the apartment, Murdoc couldn't cook for shit, but now it was actually… good? Good’s not the right word. Passable fits better, but still, it was an impressive improvement. It's pretty hard to fuck up eggs though. Same with the toast. Burnt and soft and drowning in butter. How I liked it actually.

So I guess it was… ‘good.’ Not the greatest thing in the world, but once I started eating I realized how hungry I really was. I ate just a few hours ago, why was I so hungry? I guess I didn't eat much. I still didn't. After the eggs and half of the first piece of toast, I couldn't fit anymore.

I'm done, now what.

Footsteps were heard on the other side if the door, along with the click of the lock. And then the footsteps we're gone.

I made my way to the kitchen with he half empty plate in hand, and set it in the table. Murdoc was in the living room, again toying with electronic pieces and parts. He wore shades while he worked with a low heat welder. Small sparks skidded around the room with every press of the weld’s trigger.

I'd guess what it was he was working on if I could, but there were so many pieces and parts half assembled, I couldn't. It was almost a half ball of wires and metal plates, while Mudz seemed to be working with the dismantled other half. Things looked like they moved, with multiple small presses and rubber bands.

One odd thing that freaked me out was on the table. It was a cleaned out ashtray filled with, what looked to be, metal teeth!

Not gonna question it.

I sat on the couch behind him, while he sat on the floor, lights dimmed and metallic, plastic and rubber parts surrounding him and covering his lap.

“H-Hey,” I spoke up, prompting him to stop when he was doing. He put his shades on and turned towards me. “Where'd you get the scrap part?” I figured if the supply ship had brought it he'd have been working on it sooner than now. Besides, I've been keeping track if the days (as best I could), another week or so till the next drop.

“Washed up on shore.” It was a flat answer, but it made sense. The beach was like a magnet for waste and garbage, all he'd had to do was clean the scraps that washed up.

The room was again flooded with a comfortable silence, aside from the hissing of the welder. I'm sure it wasn't good for my already damaged eyes, but how much worse could it get. My vision was already blurred to shit…

“SHIT!” Murdoc screamed, all of a sudden stopping everything he was doing. “Bathroom, first-aid, now!”

“What!?”

“Go in my bathroom and find the gauze!” His hand held his now burnt and bleeding arm, looking to have cut himself on a piece of smoldering metal. “Fuck, NOW!”

I jumped from my spot on the couch, rushing to his room’s bathroom, as far as I could before the bleeding got worse. I would've told him to go to a hospital if I could have, but I know he'd just ignore me, or maybe even hit me for the dumb idea.

Not under the sink, or cupboard… behind the mirror? Yes!

It was being a lot of shit, like beer or cologne, lube, condoms… that shit.

Running back to the living room area, Murdoc was still clutching his arm, items moved off if his lap, and moved to the floor, while he was now sitting on the couch. I sat down next to him, and he didn't even look at me, just the small box in my hands. Opening it, there was much left. All the sterilizing wipes and bandages were gone, but there was wrap tape and gauze left. I did as best I could to compress the wound and reduce bleeding, but as soon as we were done, Murdoc just sat back down on the floor, continuing to work.

I wasn't expecting a ‘thanks’ or anything, but why would he just continue working on something so obviously dangerous?

When he finally realized that his injury was slowing him down, he decided to stop. Different coolants and oils covered his legs when he went to the fridge for a beer. He sat down next to me, handing me the bottle.

“My hand hurts, open it,” he side, voice gruff and tired. I did, handing the open bottle back to him. He took it without question, holding it to his wrapped arm after taking a sip. “Thanks.”

“What?”

“You got back fast, so… thanks.” He spoke quietly.

“Well… than, ya welcome.” And I spoke just as small.

The room was comfortable in a way. A soft silence, a break of calm, considering what had just happened.

I hadn't even noticed I had been humming until Mudz told me to stop. Instead I then tapped my fingers together to the beat in my head. 'I see their world, inside my head…’

He looked at my hand next, then me. A silent request to stop. ‘... they breathe you in, and dive as deep as they can…’

For a few moments we just sat there. Silent and calm and comfortable.