I don't own Gorillaz
It was almost 4:00 in the morning when Russel sighed at the gutted hedgehog in front of him, lifting the orange cap off his bald head and wiping the sweat from his forehead with his wrist. Usually, working on one of his taxidermy projects cleared his mind, but right now his head felt as muddled as the tangled coil of intestines on the floor beside him. Murdoc had hit the animal with his car on the way home one evening and in a moment of uncharacteristic kindness, brought it home for Russel to work on. Murdoc had been almost eerily nice to him lately. As a matter of fact, all of his band mates had been particularly kind to him since his return to Kong. Of course Noodle and 2D had always treated him well, but now it seemed even more so.
Coming back to Kong had been emotionally trying to say the least. Russel had just lost his best friend for the second time and on top of that, probably because of that actually, he'd had a mental breakdown. He felt like he was loosing his mind. He tried working on an album to deal with all the complex emotions surrounding Del's second "death", but it had begun to feel as though the album was working on him. Every song he tried to record became a hallucination and then the hallucination would try to write the song. It was maddening. Russel leaned back on his chair, lighting a cigar and looking at the hedgehog. I must not be doing a good job of hiding my sadness if Murdoc of all people is bringing me presents, he thought unhappily. He tried hard to keep it together for Noodle. She was like a daughter to him and he hated to feel like he was burdening her with any of his gloominess. He constantly had to keep up his emotionless facade, whether for Noodle, fans or interviewers.
He noticed Del's absence greatly. Del had, after all, been with him all the time, and Russel had gotten used to his being there. When Russel was alone, like he was now, Del would be there keeping him company. He'd hear Del's deep voice in his head and they would often converse this way, through Russel's thoughts. Sometimes they would joke around, sometimes the talk was serious. But the silence was unnerving. Depressing. It was the loudest silence the drummer had heard in his entire life. It was deafening at times and it made him feel more lonely than he could ever remember being. He felt lost. He was lost. Though he tried, he hadn't had a decent sleep since before the exorcism. He missed the sound of Del's soft snores in his head. He felt empty, a shell of his former self. He put the cigar out and sighed again.
Now, finally sitting alone and sure that the rest of his bandmates were asleep, Russel let himself cry. He didn't sob, or shake, or wail, but he let the long overdue tears escape his eyes and trickle down his face as he worked, small droplets forming dark spots on his jeans where they fell. He soon gave up his project and just sat, large shoulders hunched over and tears now streaming down his face. He stayed like that for at least an hour before succumbing to the powerful exhaustion, a result of his insomnia, and falling asleep, still seated in the chair.
/
"Russ, man! Wake up!" He heard a familiar voice call from the foggy realm of consciousness. Russel sleepily opened his eyes and rubbed away the crust that had formed from his tears. He blinked, trying to focus them on the blue shape in front of him. They snapped open. The figure was wearing a white t-shirt with red stripes, a yellow cap and gold chain around his neck.
"Del?" The drummer croaked, weak from sleep and disbelief.
"Yeah dog, s'been a while, huh?" Del replied, red mouth widening into a grin. "Good to see you." Russel closed his eyes, shaking his head. This was a dream. It had to be. But when he opened his eyes, sure enough, his long dead friend was standing right in front of him.
"I don't understand…" Russel muttered, in shock. Del looked at the bewildered drummer, still smiling.
"Look Russ, I don't have time to explain but long story short, I got away from the Grim Reaper for a while. Won't be long 'fore he comes after me, no doubt, but I had to come say a proper goodbye." Russel just stared. "You and me, we been friends for a long time, right? Before and after I died," Del continued, "I've been watching you, Man. I don't like it. You ain't you anymore." Russel didn't answer, casting his eyes downward.
"I- I can't be myself without you." Russel finally said sadly. "You were part of me. The best part of me." Del shook his head.
"That's not true-" He began, but Russel cut him off.
"You were my mentor, my guide. My best friend. I can't hear your voice any more and it scares me. I don't know how I can face things without you inside me."
"Cut that talk out Motherfucker, you're making me sound like your gay lover or some shit." Del laughed good-naturedly. Russel smiled in spite of himself.
"I just miss you, Del." He said softly.
"I miss you too, Man." Said Del. "One day, hopefully a long time from now, I'll see you again though. You'll be Russel tha ghost drummer and I'll be Del tha ghost rapper and we'll hang just like the old days. 'Till then just remember all the good times we had."
Suddenly there was a loud crash. Del and Russel jerked their heads towards to noise, seeing with dismay that the Grim Reaper was standing at the door, silently motioning Del over. Del looked at Russel. "You're gonna be okay, Man." He said, gently punching Russel on the shoulder. Russel nodded, unable to speak. Del removed the gold chain from his neck, giving it to the drummer. "Here," He said, "Death don't care what I look like. I want you to have this. " Russel took it from his hand, nodding again. "It'll be alright." Del reassured him, making his way to the doorway. Russel stared after him until the door slammed shut with finality. It sounded like the snapping shut of a finished book, the end. Russel looked at the chain in his hands. The end of Del. For now anyway.
/
Russel awoke the next morning in his chair to cheery sunlight streaming in through a thin crack in the curtains covering the window. He frowned at it and yawned, looking at the clock on the wall. He groaned. It was too early to be up, especially considering the time he fell asleep. Sleep. Memories from the previous night flooded his head. He had to have been dreaming. He looked around the room then down at his hand. It clutched a gold chain. He looked at it sombrely for a minute before gingerly putting it around his neck. Del had been there. Somehow, Del had come. Russel took some small comfort in the reminiscence of his conversation with his friend. Del had said he would be okay, and who knew him better than his best friend? Russel stood up and opened the curtains, letting the light fill his room. Maybe he would be okay.
/
Alright so I wrote this in about two hours, hopefully the lack of time spent on it isn't too obvious. I originally intended it to be a happy recollection of all the great and funny times Russel and Del had together but apparently I'm too morbid and depressing for that so this came out a lot more dark than I would have liked. I tried to brighten it up at the end and add a more hopeful aspect, though I'm not sure if it worked or not . Maybe I'll attempt another, happier Russel/Del story before Del gets exorcised sometime in the future.
I got a few requests to do a 2DxOC story which I'll start working on when I get the chance/stop wasting my life away on tumblr and reddit. I PROMISE TO THE BEST OF MY ABILITIES THAT THE 2D STORY WON'T HAVE ANY DEATH OR SEVERE SORROW IN IT. I'll do my best, I swear.
Thanks for reading.