2Doc Oneshots

Wait and Bleed

this makes me cry. like actually bawl. it's not often that i read something and it puts me to tears.

this is written so well and even though it makes me cry, i love it so much and have been looking for it for a long time.

this was written in 2006 btw

author: Moonchild10
platform: fanfiction.net
description: Oneshot Murdocx2D. A single night took something irretrievable from Murdoc, and he only has himself to blame.

oOo

One year.

Murdoc's lips wrapped themselves around the mouth of the bottle of lager, and he took a long pull of the cool liquid, which did nothing to soothe his nerves. When he moved to place the bottle back on the table beside him, he discovered that his entire arm was shaking.

Three hundred and sixty-five goddamned days.

Sitting back in his chair, he couldn't still the shaking. It was traveling from his hand to his arm, and up and down his entire sleep-deprived body, until it was nerve-wracking just to be sitting down. "It's low blood sugar..." he tried to convince himself aloud. Feeling the need to move, he stood up, the stuffy air of the Winnebago making his head spin.

Murdoc moved into the bedroom, lowering himself down onto the purple silk of the sheets, where he stretched out, feeling none of the comfort and relaxation that the pose would suggest. It had been here. In this very spot, on these filthy silken sheets. 365 days and God, the first steps of what would lead to this hell had been carried out.

It had been his fault entirely.

The grimy ceiling of the Winnebago was where his eyes stared blankly now as he did his best to focus on his surroundings rather than his thoughts. The night was quiet around him. The others had long since gone to bed, leaving him alone in the vast confines of Kong Studios with a bottle full of alcohol and a head full of bad memories. He wondered if they were asleep, or if the horrors of what today's anniversary was of kept them awake as well. Noodle had not been her usual cheerful self today, and Russel had spoken considerably less than normal. They had all avoided making contact. They had avoided bringing up the subject. No one spoke of it. Maybe it was better that way. And now they were off wrapped in their own individual silences, and there was no chance of speaking to them about it tonight.

Murdoc rolled onto his stomach and inched forward until the handle of one of the small cupboards beside the bed was within reach, and when it was open, he reached inside for the only thing that inhabited its dusty interior; a small bag. When his fumbling hand found it, he pulled it out and dropped it onto the bed before him as though he were afraid to touch it more than necessary. At first glance, it was nothing special; an ordinary bag, made of brown paper, with an ominous smudge on the side. But the bag held more of what was left of Murdoc than he liked to admit. Keeping his vision trained on that small bag, he allowed his thoughts to drift back to that night....

XXX

It had been a quiet night, much like this one. It was mid-July, always an eventful time for the band. It seemed things always sped up come summer. Things were going at their normal breakneck pace... publicity shots, interviews, promotional events for Demon Days, general insanity. It had been amongst the delicious time of renewed fame that the lives of the fabulous Gorillaz had been altered forever. On that night one year ago, Murdoc had been lying in the Winnebago and staring at the ceiling as he did now, and, as much as he had wanted to deny it, his mind had been wracked with guilt. And it was for one simple reason...

He had fucked 2D.

It wasn't even the sex that had bothered Murdoc. It wasn't as though it wasn't a routine part of his life. And it wasn't even the fact that it had been with 2D that had caused the problem. It was the way Murdoc had chosen to handle the situation afterward. He had to admit, he hadn't been thinking much at the time. The opportunity had arisen, and without much hesitation from either of them, it had been taken. They'd been celebrating a particularly successful concert, in Murdoc's favorite fashion: high spirits, confident banter, and plenty of alcohol. It had started out normally, and ended up with their lips on each other's mouths rather on those of the bottles. Maybe it had simply been too much alcohol, or maybe there was something in the air, but either way, it had happened. There was no reversing it.