Prelude

"Hailey, you need t' let me explain," he said shrilly, the panic in his voice evident. "I need you t' calm down before we attract unwanted attention, love." He had her by her arms, his dark eyes wide with fear. His words barely registered, her panic and fear rising with each passing second. Their guitarist lay murdered in the bath tub and the singer had fled. What kind of fuckery had she stumbled upon? Why was he cleaning up the mess? Her eyes settled to his face, seeing panic that mirrored her own. No, this wasn't happening. She wasn't a part of this! She pulled against his grip, a low whine escaping from her as she ripped her arms free. The door was right there, just feet away. He was just as quick, already there and slamming it shut, lunging towards her. "Hailey, I need you t' calm down so I can explain...I was goin' t' tell you 'bout this...It's not what it looks like..." She struggled against the hands that clamped onto her arms again, pulling back away from him, tears burning in her eyes. He closed the short distance between them, his body pressed against hers as he fought to keep her close. She uttered a shrill noise, lashing out, feeling her hand connect with the side of his face. It took her a moment to realize he was struggling to keep them upright, his voice hot in her ear. "Hailey...Hailey, stop!" She tried to scream, her voice dying at her lips as they both went crashing to the floor.

Hailey's eyes snapped open as the small watercraft jolted again, hitting a current. Sleep had been brief and plagued by troublesome dreams. As her waking mind took in her surroundings, the dream started to fade out, the details blurring as it faded further and further into the recesses of her mind. Her surroundings were only familiar now because she'd seen them and nothing more for the past four days. The narrow confines of a small submarine that had been docked carefully in some abandoned shipyard somewhere on the east coast. She'd reluctantly followed her traveling companions to the shipyard and the small sub, even as her confusion deepened. Never mind the nagging voice in the back of her head that insisted something was amiss, she listened to Murdoc's tale of a party she had no memory of. Of the one too many drinks she'd had that caused this peculiar little black out that had stolen days from her. None of this made sense. How could she have forgotten such important details? When did Murdoc ask her to join him back to his home? Why was 2D beaten and bruised? What had happened to Murdoc to have him favoring his hand? The finger was bandaged tightly, his own body a testimony of bruises and cuts that had not come from her. Too many holes in her memory and the information given didn't fill those holes.

Across from her, sleeping soundly, was the Gorillaz singer, 2D. He'd been vague and tight-lipped on the whole matter, unwilling to give her much information beyond parroting what Murdoc had told her. Murdoc asked her to come back with him and she'd accepted. They'd thrown her a massive going away party that had her drinking her weight in some of the harshest booze money could buy. She'd blacked out completely. They had barely managed to get her onto the plane due to her inebriated state. This version of events bothered her. She'd never drank so much, she'd blacked out. It wasn't like she'd lost hours, she'd lost days! Two whole days were unaccounted for. There wasn't even a vague memory of a party starting. Shouldn't she at least remember that much? She frowned in the darkness, her eyes focusing on the sleeping man across from her. No doubt 2D knew more than he was letting on. It was the way he looked at her. The way he continuously cast worrisome looks at Murdoc. But no matter how much she tried to get out of him, he gave her the same response, repeating Murdoc's story almost verbatim.

At the helm of the small submarine, Murdoc hummed along to whatever it was playing on his little iPod, the ear buds visible in his ears. She'd tried to get more information out of him in the early moments of their underwater trip. And like 2D, he revealed practically nothing. The more she tried to remember, the foggier it all seemed. She remembered the concert, remembered some of the moments afterward in Murdoc's hotel suite, but everything after that faded into oblivion. There was that gap between those moments after the concert and when she'd come around to find herself on the small private plane with the two men, too achy and nauseous to register where their guitarist was or the other musicians. Something about their young guitarist. Something important. But even as she struggled to recall the most recent dream, knowing it had something to do with this key detail, it was too far gone now. The only thing that seemed to stick out was the utter look of panic on Murdoc's face. This was important too. Something had happened that had him scared.

Erupting into a massive yawn, she eased her body back into the small make shift bed. She was too troubled to fall back asleep and too tired to consider rising. The hour was unknown to her. The only times she knew it was late was when Murdoc would set the auto pilot on the small watercraft and curl beside her in the narrow bed almost too small for the two of them. Given his focus and preoccupation at the controls currently, it could very well be morning or mid-day. Maybe he would surface the sub again and allow them a chance to get some fresh air? The small shower stall accomplished very little in the way of cleaning other than maybe something more akin to a sponge bath and the toilet needed to be emptied. The smell within was starting to be noticed. Hailey found herself momentarily pondering over how she could identify the men by their smell. Yeah, the three of them combined made the confines of the sub pretty rank, but it was odd that she could tell who was near her based on smell alone. 2D had this peculiar clovey smell while Murdoc had this deeper muskier smell that reminded her of the woods. As for herself, all she could smell was armpit sweat and was baffled at how eager Murdoc was to get close to her when he slept. Maybe she had her own smell he liked? Or maybe he had some weird pit smell fetish?

A smile cracked across her face in the darkness, the laughter just barely passing her lips. The reasonable explanation would be the man was exhausted and didn't give a shit about their unwashed clothes. The suitcases and other luggage had been stowed away in the narrow cargo compartment in the back, inaccessible to them. Showers or not, they all were still wearing the clothing they'd been wearing on the plane and Hailey was fairly certain hers were the worst of the lot, destined for the garbage whenever they finally made it to their destination. Shame, really. She did like these clothes. But given the smell and stains, she had her doubts on whether she could salvage them or not.

Rising from the narrow cot, she let out a massive yawn. How much longer was this trip anyway? She cast a glance over towards Murdoc, who was staring ahead through the glass, steering the small submarine through the murky water. The spotlight at the front of the craft cut through the darkness, illuminating bits of reef and catching the glimmer of passing fishes as they scurried out of the submarine's path. "How much longer?" she asked finally, making her way unsteadily towards the front of the submarine. He gave no indication that he'd heard her, the ear buds still in his ears. Uttering a sigh, she tapped his shoulder. He jumped beneath her touch, pulling the buds away and staring up at her with wide eyes. "How much longer?" she repeated.

Murdoc pulled a cigarette from the battered little pack beside him, lighting it with a shrug. " 'Nother day or so, I reckon." He grabbed the pack, offering it towards her. "It's a bloody long trip, I know." Easing back into the chair, he took a heavy drag from his cigarette. Hailey watched him carefully as she lit her cigarette, dully noting that the bruises on his arms and face were faded and yellowing and he was sporting fresh bandages on his left hand. It was hard to shake the feeling that he was hiding something. Something important enough to invade her dreams. He turned his attention back to the controls, cigarette smoldering at his lip. "I'll bring her t' the surface in a bit. Give us a chance t' get some air."

Hailey returned to the cot, sinking down. She wanted to press further with the half-assed explanations he'd given behind why she was accompanying them. Wanted to pick his responses apart. But she also realized that doing so while he was steering a submarine miles beneath the ocean might not be the best time. It had an auto pilot feature obviously if he was able to hit some settings and leave the controls to sleep, but something told her that he needed to be more focused now with their destination another day away. Neither he or 2D told her where they were going. Murdoc only referred to it as home. But where was home? Were they going to England? Some other European country? Where could they be going that didn't require her to have the necessary travel documents? That was another thing that nagged at her. It was clear they were no longer in the states. She knew international travel required a lot of paperwork and often took weeks for any kind of approvals. It was part of the reason she never pursued it, no matter how often friends had urged her to do so in order to travel with them outside of the country.

She knew nothing. Remembered nothing. And the only two people who knew what had happened were not talking about it. She wouldn't have agreed to leave with him so abruptly, not without tying up the loose ends of her home, her work. She had no real bonds to the city anymore, the only solid and lengthy friendship she'd had shattered to dust the night she'd left for the concert, so those left behind weren't an extremely pressing concern. But there would have been the matter of taking her name off the lease, putting in her resignation at work and all the other mundane tasks that one goes through before uprooting themselves from their home turf. She'd left a car behind, still parked in the hotel parking garage. A bank account that would receive one last deposit before falling dormant. What about her purse? Did she even have that? This was fucking maddening, that's what it was. Two days of her life were missing and none of the explanations given made any fucking sense. Murdoc was lying, he had to be. As for the singer, he most likely was urged to repeat the lie. Keep her compliant. Keep her confused. For how long, though? She frowned in the darkness, her eyes settling back to the sleeping 2D. If Murdoc was too preoccupied with controlling the submarine, she could probably use some muscle to get more information out of the battered and bruised singer. Where was their guitarist? Where were the other musicians? Why was she there and why was it now only the three of them?

Murdoc flung open the hatch, peering outside cautiously. The island and jetty looked no different than the day they had departed, so it was probably safe to say they'd received no visitors in their absence. He was tired of the paranoia, tired of always looking over his shoulder. And what was to say any potential visitors weren't laying in wait within the house? The submarine had picked up no other craft in the water during their journey but he didn't want to feel too confident. With a grunt, he pulled himself out of the submarine, hearing both 2D and Hailey behind him. There was a small sliver of hope that Hailey would be too exhausted to assault him with questions. She'd been quiet through most of their journey beneath the water, but it was hard to escape her confused and questioning gaze. She wanted answers and he just was not in the position to give her those answers at the moment. He wasn't sure what he could tell her that would smooth this whole mess over. Hey, you saw a broken robot and freaked out so I drugged you and smuggled you out of the country! Yeah, man, stellar. See how far that goes. She'd jump into the ocean and swim back to the states! There'd been some small truth to the story he'd woven. He did ask her to come back with him, things had just gotten so heated, she'd been unable to give an answer. Thanks to him, she remembered very little of what happened after she'd left with him and 2D after the show. Rohypnol was a curious drug. She could remember the concert itself, some visiting afterward and even bits of pieces of their moments together in his hotel suite, but conversations or anything beyond those moments were wiped clean.

He jumped down onto the jetty and pulled open the small cargo hatch in the back. Just focus on unloading and getting everyone situated within the house. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the Face-Ache helping Hailey out of the sub, the two of them now standing mere feet away and staring at him. He kept his attention on unloading the cargo hatch, refusing to meet their combined stares. Maybe they could make themselves useful and start grabbing some of the bags? "Lil' help," he grunted, tossing some suitcases onto the wooden dock. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing 2D grab at some suitcases but Hailey still just standing there and watching him. "You have hands, yeah?" He knew his tone came out sharper than he intended but did she have to just stand there?

She narrowed her eyes at him as she reached down and grabbed at a few suitcases, turning away with a huff and stalking down the jetty towards the walkway on the island. Deep down he knew he was simply trying to avoid her cornering him with more questions. He was too knackered to really think at the moment and all he wanted was a hot shower and his bed. Give him a chance to rest, that was all he asked. He still wasn't sure just how he planned to explain it all to her, but he would lay it out eventually. The quick and half assed put together lie he'd spun the day she'd come around in the plane wouldn't hold water forever. He knew he'd acted on fear and impulse when he'd stowed her away in the equipment trailer. So much had started going wrong in those moments, he felt he had few other options. He probably could have taken her back to that little flat she shared with Alicia, but the option hadn't really present itself in his head until it was too late. And could he have done it if he'd thought about it sooner? Christ, he'd been so panicked at what was going on around him, driving an unconscious woman across the city was the last thing he wanted to burden himself with.

Did any of it matter now? She was there with him. Not exactly happy with him at the moment, but there all the same. At some point, he'd have to come clean. Tell her what really took place and hope she understood. Yeah, he'd hoped to be given a few days – or weeks – to finally tell her the truth, but it was clear she wasn't buying the bullshit. And he had to face the real possibility that she'd demand to be returned to Seattle once the truth was known. He wasn't sure if he was prepared for that. He did genuinely enjoy her company during the days leading to the concert. She had obviously enjoyed his company. There'd been the obvious touch of sadness in her voice when it was finally said aloud that the night of the concert would most likely be their last night together. Something had happened. Something he felt and something she felt as well. And in perfect Niccals fashion, he'd fuckered it all up. Instead of trying to do something right for once, it all blew up in his face and here he was with another stow-away.

Murdoc grabbed the last two bags, trailing behind 2D and Hailey as they made their way towards the entrance of the house at the top of the hill. He kept his gaze to the ground, following the precarious walk-way that led to the main entrance. There was only one entrance to the house and it was maybe ten yards away. Ahead of him, he could hear 2D rattling away about how big the house was, how great the kitchen was and a plethora of other things that ran together into one long annoying sound inside Murdoc's head. Couldn't the Face-Ache shut it for one bloody minute? Hailey was smiling at the half wit, responding only enough to indicate she was listening and this seemed to push him further, still blathering away. Christ, woman, don't encourage him! Grumbling under his breath, he trudged on behind them, stopping only long enough to drop a bag and enter in the door code so all the alarms and locks were disarmed. The other two lingered a step or so behind him as he hauled open the door and stepped into the narrow corridor, his eyes on the single lift resting at the back wall.

Hailey was now looking around the narrow entrance, wrinkling her nose at the mess that surrounded them. Murdoc glanced around, feeling only fleeting regret at the state of the entrance. He'd allowed it to get out of hand, now littered with the various junk he and 2D had found along the beach. Mostly just random rubbish that had washed up to the floating island of trash. Hailey's eyes were traveling over the bits of plane wreckage that flanked a far wall. "Is that from a seven-forty-seven?"

Murdoc cast a quick glance at the plane siding, giving only a curt nod as the lift opened up. "I think so. Not all that familiar with aircraft. Figured it might come in handy." Truth be told, he didn't even know why he had hauled that thing inside. It had taken both him and 2D to get it through the doorway. The piece of siding was not small by any means. Still even had a portion of the interior still attached. It had just appeared on the beach like all the other shit on this stinkhole. And with all the missing plane reports he heard on the radio or on the telly, no telling which one it came from.

Both Hailey and 2D stepped into the lift after him as he pushed the button to head down to 2D's underwater room. Drop the dullard off and then head to his quarters. Hailey was looking amongst the bags they all carried, her brow knitting together as something slowly started to sink in. Murdoc could feel the sweat breaking out beneath his shirt. She wasn't a stupid woman. The bags they carried were his and the Face-Ache's. None of them belonged to her. And she knew this. She was silent as 2D exited the lift, the doors closing behind him. Alone in the narrow car, he could feel her eyes on him now. Please let this slide until I can get some rest, he pleaded to himself. Please just overlook it for now. Her eyes were scanning him over carefully, her mouth a thin line. Sweat broke across his face, his eyes on the numbers as the small lift carried them up to the level that contained the master suite. He almost groaned aloud when it finally reached their destination. Pushing through the barely open doors, he dropped the bags when he reached the door to his room. He could still feel her eyes on him as he pulled open the door and grabbed the bags.

"Where are my bags?" she demanded, standing in the doorway. "Did we get them out of the sub?"

Murdoc paused at the foot of the bed, his teeth clenched. He could hear her step just behind him, the thud of the bags as she let them drop. What was he supposed to tell her? The lack of luggage would be the biggest give-away that the story he'd given her was a line of bullshit. He found himself unable to respond, his mind torn between the truth and some other poorly put together lie. Silence stretched between them for what seemed like an eternity before he finally exhaled loudly, closing his eyes. "I think they were left b'hind in the chaos, love."

She was staring at him with narrowing eyes when he turned to gauge her expression. The harsh lighting of the bedroom brought to his attention how exhausted she looked with her hollow eyes and greasy hair. "Left behind?" she asked suspiciously, cocking her head.

"Left b'hind," he repeated slowly, turning away from the acidic gaze. "There was so much goin' on, we didn't realize what happened until it was too late." He cracked a grin, hoping he sounded as cheery as he looked. "No worries, Poppet. I can order you some new clothes." He started to dig through his dresser, pulling fresh clothes out and setting them aside. Find her something to wear for now. Lounge-wear of some kind. He wanted to say she was around the same size as him in pants, but couldn't be too sure. Glancing over his shoulder at her, he frowned. No, her hips were a little wider. This wasn't the usual rail thin poster child for anorexia that sometimes found themselves in his company. Grabbing a second set of lounge-wear, he tossed them in her direction. "Shower's through the door there. Make yourself at home."

Never before had he been so grateful to be alone. Sitting at the edge of his bed, he listened as she showered, his own lounge-wear clutched in his hand. He was exhausted and in dire need to a good night's sleep. Why was all of this bothering him so much? Had the years of running finally taken their toll on him? He'd reached a point of desperation, hadn't he? Why else would he have gone soft and brought the woman with him. This wasn't him. Not by a long shot. She should have been left in his wake as he stormed out of that city. It was clear he'd changed in the midst of this ride when the dullard – who never picks up on anything, mind you – caught on that he was struggling with how he saw Hailey. And it wasn't so much the odd feeling of something that bothered him, it was the fact that sooner or later he'd have to spill it out and tell her the truth about what happened. And then deal with the possibility of her wanting him to take her back. And he realized that he just didn't want that. Call him fucking selfish, he wasn't ready or willing to accept such rejection.

The clink of the shower curtain brought his thoughts to a momentary halt. Raising his head, he met her blackened and hollow eyes as she slipped from the washroom clad in one of his old T-shirts and nothing else. Rising from the bed, his eyes traveled down the length of her body, pausing at her rump before moving down her legs. Conflicting thoughts or not, it wasn't too difficult to direct his mind to other things as he watched her crawl across his bed. Huffing loudly, he tore his eyes away from her arse and slipped into the washroom. Was it in bad form to try to get some before the shit hit the fan?