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

Chapter 15

(2D’s POV)

I felt like I could count the minutes if I tried. How long we stayed in silence. Until I finally broke it.

“Last night...” I started, but I wasn't sure how to continue. I had his attention at least. “I thought… I, I thought that you were gonna…” I stuttered with my words.

“Spot it out Pot,” Murdoc said, voice just as calm as it had been before.

“Why didn't you kiss me?”

There was a pause before he stood up, not looking at me. And he just, walked. Right through the living room, and kitchen, right to the balcony. Leaving me alone in a room surrounded by parts.

(Murdoc's POV)

Fuck. FUCK!

I fucked up.

I never should have leaned down.

Never should have… put that idea in his head. Trying to put some kind of connection, or emotion into this kind of relationship was… complicated. It was risky and confusing and complicated.

I'd say I needed a smoke, but there were none left. No pot, or cigs, or any other drug that could help calm me down. Help me forget. Ignore. I didn't want to think.

Normally when I didn't want to think, I'd go to Stu… but he was the problem this time. Or at least, I was his problem. It was too soon to do anything with him anyways. I'd give him some kind of break, for now at least.

Walking back into the room I noticed, he hadn't moved from his spot. He just continued to stare at the robotic pieces, trying to figure out what it was supposed to be. Damn, the boy was to afraid to even follow me now, wasn't he. When Noodle was still around, Stu and I, we were the best of friends, --or at least as good of friends as someone could get with me-- but now… he probably wouldn't stop me like he did.

He wouldn't come running to the loud music. Wouldn't break open the door after hearing the click of the safety. Wouldn't take the gun away while it was cocked.

He wouldn't save me now. Would he.

Maybe when we were younger. But now, with all the shit I've put him through. All the pain and suffering and mental torture…

I'd want me dead too.

I've wanted me dead for years now. I've thought about it, planned it out. I could come up with a few hundred ways to do it. Most wouldn't even hurt. It'd be quick, painless.

I didn't deserve it quick-

“Mudz, ya alright?” His voice shook me from my disturbed thoughts.

I ran a hand over my face, “Fine. 'm fine.” No, I'm not even close. I need a drink. I need to get drunk. I'm a happy drunk. It's more fun for me, and probably the people around me.

What liquor I had left in the kitchen wasn't great, and the alcohol content wasn't even that high. But enough of it wouldn't matter.

Stu looked confused when I handed him a few of the drugstore booze bottles.

“I needed to be hammered yesterday. Join me, will ya?” I could tell he wanted to smile. Maybe he was looking forward to me stupid. He liked me better that way, when my mood swings calmed down.

“I… I would luv that,” he said, as happily as he could without smiling. He didn't like to smile around me. Didn't like to show himself giving in. He didn't want it to go back to normal… he didn't think it could go back. I don't think it could.

But I could try.

Half a bottle in, and I had the music cranked to 80’s rock. Stuart… he was drunk. For once he had out drank me, and he could barely stand. He was drunk, and stupid, and giggling. And smiling like the idiot he was. That perfect toothless grin.

He needed this. I needed this. I needed him to be happy, to relax for once. This really wasn't it, not even close, but it was better than nothing. Better than letting him think he was just wasting away on this imprisoning beach.

At this point, I'd let him leave if I could, but I had no way off the island anymore. And even if we could leave, where would we go? How would we avoid the pirates and all the others looking for me, looking for us. Noodle was gone, and Russell was missing, so I don't have to worry about them, but Stuart.

He's all that was left.

Even if I let him go, he'd just be found again, by the enemy. Without him… there'd be no one left to stop me from getting another gun…

I needed more alcohol. There were too many words, swimming in my head. Too many thoughts, too many reasons, questions, answers that I didn't want!

“Hey,” Stuart spoke up again. I kept losing myself in my own head.

“Hm?” All I could manage at this point was a noise. I didn't want to talk, not really.

“Ya neva answered the question…” he mumbled off.

“Which one?”

He shifted in his seat, turning towards me. Leaning towards me.

“Why didn’ you…” he drunkenly stumbled over his own words. “...kiss me? You were, were, gonna kiss me… weren' ya?”

I'm sure whether I told him the truth or not, he wouldn't remember this in a few hours.

“Did you want me to?” I asked right back. He didn't answer, just moved back to where he had sat before. On the other end of the sofa, as far from me as he could manage.

Smile gone. Curiosity gone. We could have had something again, started something again... and I ruined it.

Again.

“Stu.” He took another sip out of the bottle, but he eventually turned to me. “Did you want me to?”

There was another long pause before he answered. “I.. it wouldn't…” he couldn't think of the right words to say. “It would make things less… intimidating. Yeah?”

“... Yeah…?”

“Less… forced, yeah?” he said again, looking at me. I just nodded. He starting to chuckle to himself while he took another swig. I laughed a bit too.

He needed this. We needed this.

Maybe next time.

Next time I could try it.

Next time I wouldn't hurt him as much.

Next time...