Author's note:
IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ! Eh... Hello, what you're about to read is a fanfic that won't be finished. The reason is: I had a huge plothole in the second chapter and finally I figuerd out how to solve it! The problem is that to solve it I'll have to change really important stuff in this first chapter, which means re-writing the whole fanfic and it's whole meaning!
I'll be working in the re-writing for a few days, and I'll finally be publishing the "new-not so new" chapter as a different fanfic but under the same title...
When it's done I'll put the link here.
Anyway, if you want to read this one as some kind of beta-fanfic, you're very welcome to read it! :)) Hope you enjoy, and also hope you don't mind my mess of a head!

Maybe a bit more and the hit would have been fatal.

Not that he cared so much, though. He even nearly thought it would have been better that way, so he shouldn't have to handle 30,000 hours of community service plus having to take care of the insensitive blue haired corpse. He meant boy.

But he probably took out fast that idea of his mind, killing a man would have had worse consequences in the end. Wouldn't it?

But there he had it. Him. Crashed window, keyboard pieces everywhere, not to be fixed again. Customers had run away. Someone was calling the police, the ambulance, the firemen... People can be so exaggerating sometimes.

He finally moved out the car and stood in front of the boy. He couldn't be much more than 20.

"Hey, listen, kid, u alright?"

No answer, he didn't even move his eyes. Actually, what the hell was that? Stooping to take a closer look he realized he had no right eye. It wasn't anywhere to be seen, though, among all lost keys...

Deep breath. He had fucked up, and he knew. Maybe a bit more than usual.

He had to think fast. Act faster.

As ambulance sirens could be heard approaching he took the boy in his arms, up the car and go, go, go!

It took some red traffic lights, opposite directions and skids to outstrip the police. Finally the streets were silent, uncomfortably, still was the miss-eyed boy, but Murdoc wouldn't give so much importance to it yet.

Boy in arms again he kicked the flat's door to open. No keys were needed since he had broken the lock the first time he decided that would be a nice and lonely place to live in.

As door opened a stinking wave came directly to his nose. Fag ashes, bags and bags of rubbish still to get ridden of and rests of satanic rituals were the usual 'fresher' for the flat.

Home sweet home!

Left the boy siting in the middle of old dirty clothes, music sheets and alcohol bottles among other stuff. He wouldn't take so much time on falling head direct to the ground, anyway.

-click, click... click... clickclickclick-

"Fffuck! Generator broke again... Alright, I suppose we'll have to deal with this without light..."

He opened the window in order to let some street lights illuminate the scene (and hopefully let some fresh air dissolve the scent).

Headed to the kitchen, poured some water in a bowl and ripped some old T.

"Well, Bluey" He spoke as he started not so carefully cleaning the boy's bleeding wound. "We're kind of in a difficult situation, aren't we? -Oh, for fucks sake...-" He had actually re-opened a scar in the boy's ribs by trying to clean it and some abundant blood started pouring out of the boy. He took another shirt piece and tried to band it so the hemorrhage would stop. He stood in silence while pressing the wound. The guy was really skinny, you could count the ribs just by looking; and he was pale, a bit more and he would be transparent... Did he have some eating disorder? He didn't look sick, though, well, discounting that he didn't move, had one missing eye and was covered in wounds, he still managed to look innocent, still vulnerable to the older one.

"But look, I have a fantastic idea that will take both of us out of it! So you and I are friends, yes? When police finds us you'll be completely healed and you'll tell them that everything's alright, I'll pay you your beautiful shop's damage -60 pounds would do the thing, wouldn't it?...- and this way we don't have to solve any court's shit. And after that you go, do your own life, we don't see each other again and everything's fine. Understood?"

He looked at the blue haired in the eye, but he still seemed to be somewhere else... Actually more in the death somewhere than in the alive one.

"Listen, kid, I know I ran over you with my car and that you're angry at me, but you could at least look at me when I talk to you?" As Murdoc stopped holding it for cleaning some remaining blood, the boy's head leaned aggressively towards the ground.

"Oh, well, that's it? Look, you're not gonna fool me with your comatose trick, ya hear me?!Will you please stand up and close that hollow eye before someone comes and sees it? Is that it? I fucked up your eye so you're pretending you're dead or something so I get in trouble? Well then, fuck your fucking scars and all then!" Kicked the now reddish water spilling it all in the ground till it hit some can or old clothes started soaking on it.

"I was trying to be nice with you; I was trying to make this easier for both of us! But that's how you thank me?" Kick in the ribs, the wound started bleeding again through the shirt bandage. "Stand up already!" Left hand grabbed the boy's shirt collar, nearly breaking the cloth with his sharpen nails. "I said..." right fit directly to the younger's cheek,. "...stand..." punching again the poor boy's face making some more blood spilt out from his mouth. "...the fuck..." he raises his fist one more time, trembling in anger, he couldn't even hear the door opening as blood was buzzing in his ears with pressure. "...UP!" he can hear the crack, as something breaks against his knuckles.

"Hands up where I can see them! NOW!" three police officers, three guns pointing at him, he turns his head to the entry, anger face fading into really fucked up one.

"Fuck..."

"I said you leave Stuart Tusspot now!"

"I leave who?"

Not even Stuart's parents were happy with the verdict.

Obviously no one believed Murdoc when claimed that all Stuart's scars were there because he had fainted after the car had accidentally and kindly crashed into the shop, and that the faint was none of his problems since Stuart was actually "a fucking anorexic twat" and he couldn't stand by himself with nothing in his stomach anyway.

30,000 hours of community service were just an overreaction. But if in something both Murdoc and Stuart's parents agreed was that Murdoc having to take care of the boy 10 hours a week was definitely not a good idea.

First day was a rainy day. Not that it bothered so much to the satanist, but having to carry the corpse up and down the car to the flat felt more bothersome this way. Even more if he had only managed to sleep an hour as much because there were leaks everywhere... He arrived 3 hours, 27 minutes late to the house to pick him.

Why were those two always so angry at him? For fuck's sake, he was even going to pick him, they could have brought him to his flat if they were in such a hurry...

"You'll have to give him dinner since you arrived nearly 4 hours late... For God's sake, won't you use an umbrella to carry him? Well, you better dry him too, the last thing we need now for Stuart is a cold... I want my son home at 8 p.m. Not – four – hours – later."

As if he would have wanted to keep the zombie longer...

2 hours a day, so he would have weekends free and parents could have two whole days entirely to take care of a blue haired puppet.

"Well, welcome home again..." Murdoc grumbled as kicking the door open for second time carrying Stuart.

It looked quite the same, maybe there were some more beer cans in the floor, and at some spots you could find rain water puddles.

"You'll sit here, aright? Please make an effort not to fall, I don't feel like accommodating dead people today..." He left him on his bed, back resting against the wall. "Here you have your towel. And here you have an orange. Bit old but it'll make the thing." He left them, carelessly upon Stuart's legs, as if expecting him to magically start moving again.

Sat at the other side of the mattress, as far as possible from the other and looked away. He sighed to himself.

"Two hours, huh? That shouldn't feel so long..." Finally turned his head to look at the boy. He stood like this for a few minutes, just analyzing him.

Blue hair, not such a common hair color, but shit happens; his eye looked calm, the other looked kinda creepy. Shouldn't they have closed his eyes since he couldn't even blink? He really didn't know why he was caring about his eye drying off suddenly, but it was making he feel nervous the more he thought about it.

He finally decided to approach to the boy and close his eyelids, he noticed then his skin was still wet, maybe he should dry it off. Took the towel and started with the blue hair, then the forehead; more carefully than he had never thought he could be he started weeping out the water from nearly healed scars. He would have even liked to think that they had recovered thanks to the quick wound cleaning the accident night, which would have meant he could easily solve his own problems. But he also knew Stuart's mother was a nurse.

His skin was really soft despite the skinniness. He realized then that some of the bruises in his cheek weren't from the car accident, those were really meant to be.

"Uhm... I know you're not faking it now, faceache."

Was that some kind of apology?

His lips were thin, they still felt warm under Murdoc's thumb, which accidentally slipped out of the towel for a moment. They wouldn't open to accept the failed apology. That closer look made him notice how his chest was the only thing moving, slightly, up and down, breath in, breath out, the only signal that could make him know that he was still alive. He could have imagined the boy was just sleeping, still so innocent, still so vulnerable.

He had taken maybe way too much of the necessary time to wipe out the rain out of the younger one. He realized that and immediately backed off. He couldn't do anything about the shirt anyway, could he?

But why was he so alarmed about the whole situation? He had just kindly done what he was told to.

And probably that was the problem: kind did not enter into Murdoc's characteristics.

Somehow it had felt soothing, doing something nice for someone he didn't even know. Wasn't that the same as community service? No, there was something different in this, but since the other wouldn't even notice, he was safe with his kindness.

He found himself avoiding looking at Stuart again, standing uncomfortably in the middle of his own room, arms crossed, fingers tapping.

Well, it hadn't even been an hour yet, but he figured out that feeding the boy and taking him back to his home would take more than half an hour. Fair enough.

Slowly approached Stuart again, took a chair and sat in front of him. Then took the orange and started peeling it off.

"So you work in a music shop, don't you? Well, not anymore, of course, heh... You know how to play any instrument, though? I'm starting that band, you know? I'm gonna make it big! A good, huge, real band... -Here, have this-" He placed an orange slice in front of the younger's mouth, waiting. "..., well, excuse me, I thought that as you breathed by your own you would eat as well by your own to keep yourself alive... Seems not to be such a big deal for your body. Will you at least chew or not even that?" he finally asked while forcing the slice into his mouth.

He could feel his dry lips under his fingers, he realized then.

"Of course you won't... I guess I'll have to give you water, ask your mom to make some orange juice, I can't make shit with only this one..." He took the orange slice again out of his mouth. That really was being the most awkward day of his life. Well, he then remembered that Catherine who had been really nice with him and his dick was actually called John. But still was being awkward.

Headed to the kitchen to take some water.

Hopefully more water from the glass entered Stuart's stomach than out of his mouth. Wiped out the water running down the younger's jaw with his thumb. He really looked useless...

"Dullard..."

That should do the thing for the day, this time took the towel to cover Stuart's head while carrying him back to the car.

The ride was silent. Of course. Stuart should be lost somewhere. Murdoc was lost in his mind.

Footsteps could be heard immediately after the door bell was pressed.

"It's still half past seven."

"Guessed that was gonna be alright with you." Murdoc protested while helping Stuart's mother get him inside.

"You're right..."

And so first day was over, for Murdoc something had gone missing. There he stood, under rain, while the door was closing, he couldn't take eyes out of Stuart.

"Take care" Nearly in a whisper.

He finally went back to the car.