One average evening, an evening that has no meaning to anyone in particular, we are brought a blue-haired man sitting on his bed, curled up in a ball and staring intently at the ceiling. His black, soulless eyes began to close, tired after shedding so many tears.
They shot right back open and more hot tears began streaming down his face. All he could think about was the one fateful day two months ago. The day when he lost his one best friend. Memories continued to flow into his mind of the days when she was here, so joyful and innocent, not a care in the world. Every time another memory would pop up, the tears would start again.
"Noodle..." He whispered softly. Ever since she had died, he had been like this. He would take a handful of painkillers, trying to forget everything for just a few hours, but it would never work. Then he would lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, trying to convince himself to get over it. Then Murdoc would come in and wake him up with something loud and obnoxious and force him to sing.
A bit of light peeked in through his blinds, burning his eyes and making more tears fall, this time just because it was so damn bright. He rolled over trying to get away from the light, but there were windows on both sides of him. Giving in, he groaned and sat up.
He thought of when Noodle first came into their lives, four years ago back at Kong. He had been going out to get the mail and he tripped (somehow) over the very large FedEx crate at their doorstep. With the help of Murdoc, they managed to get it in the door. Out popped a small, 3 foot 2 Asian girl with a Les Paul guitar. Even then he liked her, after he had just met her. Even Murdoc had taken a liking to her, though maybe not as quickly as he did.
Then more recent memories came to mind, of when she got to sing and dance to a song she wrote herself. Watching her in Dare, he would always smile; being able to see the pure satisfaction it gave her to be doing that. He thought of her voice when she sang, the way her hips moved when she danced... he sighed. You're doing it again, Stu. He thought to himself. He kept on promising himself that he would try and stop thinking about her, but he just couldn't.
He suddenly heard very loud footsteps coming down the stairs towards him room. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, knowing that in a moment he would have to endure another day of torment that Murdoc so enjoyed putting him through.
"Hey faceache!" Murdoc shouted as he busted through his bedroom door. 2D flinched, despite the fact that he knew it was coming. "Come 'ere Dullard, it's time to get to recording," Murdoc told him, pulling him by the ear out of the room.
2D plopped down on his bed and automatically reached for the bottle of painkillers at his bedside table. He poured some into his hand and popped them into his mouth. He sighed as he curled up on his bed in the smallest possible way. The man is trying to kill me. He thought silently to himself. For the hundredth time in about a week, he thought of something. This time though, he didn't think better of it.
He walked as quietly as possible out of his room and then up the stairs. He turned left to go up into the kitchen. He knew exactly what he was looking for and where to find it before he was even there. By now he was practically running to find it, and once he arrived in the kitchen he reached into a drawer and pulled out a small knife.
"Here we go..." He murmured to himself. He walked silently back down the stairs and into his room, being careful to shut the door so that it emitted no sound. He sat down on the edge of his bed and stared at the gleaming object in his hands. Am I really going to do this...? He thought. Then he remembered the reason why. No Noodle. Too much Murdoc. Not the kind of living anyone would really enjoy having. And you know what? He didn't.
After but a moment's hesitation he sighed and lifted the knife to his wrist. He took one deep breath in before making a large incision rather forcefully on his left wrist. He winced slightly, feeling and seeing the blood leaving his body. He then raised the knife to his right wrist, this time working a little quicker, knowing how to do it and realizing the fact that he might not have much time to wait.
He watched the blood flowing from his wrists for another short moment. It can all just go away now... he thought dazedly. He continued to watch, but then his eyes got very wide.
"Oh god... Wot did I do?" he tried standing up, but he had lost too much blood. The room rushed around him before he finally sat back down. He looked around frantically for some way of saving himself. Blood was everywhere now. He knew of only one thing to do.
"M-murdoocc!" he shouted, trying to keep his words straight. "M-mmurdooo-" He choked before he could finish the word. The room was spinning now. Maybe if I don't fight back... He thought.
"Hey, Dullard! Stop your screaming you lousy-" He walked into the room to find an almost unconscious 2D lying on the bed, bleeding to death by his wrists. "2D! Dear Satan, what did you do?" 2D, who was just barely conscious, motioned with what little energy he had left towards the bloody knife near his bed. Murdoc stared, awestruck for a moment at the knife, then his blue-haired singer, and back to the knife.
He knew he had to act quickly. "Cyborg! Come 'ere!" Cyborg was there within seconds of his request and was standing by his side obediently waiting for orders. "You idiot! Don't you see he's dying! Go get the Geep!" She nodded quietly and was out of the room in a flash. He picked up 2D gently and began to carry him outside.
The last thing 2D remembered was Murdoc staring at him and saying, "Don't die on me, 'D."
