Things like this were never brought up, were they?
No, it was part of who he was, right? A rude, heartless drunk with clever comebacks to everything, and intellect unreachable.
The thing was, they were only fans. They sat and watched from afar, they're favorite bandmates, as their personal struggles appeared humorus and glorified in their eyes only filled with admiration.
But if you were part of the issue, the struggle, and had to recieve every blow of pain and heartbreak, then you'd strive to help. To fix the situation even though there was a slim chance of any progress, because you loved tirelessly for that person. No matter what, you'd be there.
2D sighed, the phone in his hands shaking. He realized it was him that was shaking and not the phone, so he let out a bitter laugh.
Yes, he was that person, wasn't he? Every night worrying whether Murdoc was safe in a bed or hanging on the streets pissed beyond belief. Wondering if he'd gotten in a fight and was in the hospital, or worse - dead in some grungy alley way.
He shuddered at the thought and shoved the Iphone in his pocket, the cold air nipping at his cheeks.
The night was young, the others were partying, and he was stuck wondering about the well-being of his bandmate, Murdoc. He felt like he was the only one who thought this way about him. The others weren't worried at all, and seemed to be stuck in that onlooker state of mind. But 2D was actually in on the situation, and it pained him more than anything he's been through in his life.
Murdoc was his savior, his best mate, and his everything. He wasn't afraid to admit it and did with pride, because nothing made him feel better than that cocky bassist. Nothing.
And now, that same person was causing him harm unimaginable. They say that the one you love the most is the one who'll end up hurting you the most, and he deemed it to be very true. Harsh, but true in every sense of it. But that wasn't enough to make him leave, and he'd go through hell to save Murdoc from his gluttonous addiction to alchohol.
The walk to the hotel was long and gruelling, wishing that he could just appear there in an instant. He was dying to see if he was okay or not, and the worry and possible outcomes from every angle exhausted his already tired mind.
He couldn't help but notice the lady at the desk was rather nice, her happiness like a blow to the chest. It had been a while since he's been that uplifted, and he envied her. She wasn't sure what he meant when he told her he was glad for her, but he didn't care.
It was more for himself than her, anyway.
Steps up the stairs was a stupid idea, since it would only take that much longer to get to the room. It made him feel less restless though, like he was actually physically doing something to get there. In an elevator he would've felt as though he were lagging or not trying, even though it was shooting fast up the building.
He mentally scolded himself for being selfish about such things, and ran up faster.
Hand on the doorknob, okay, breathe in - breathe out - breath in - hold - turn.
The harsh smell of sex and all things drug-related hit him in the face, but he was rather used to it. The door shut behind him, and the further he walked inside the smell of stench and body odor grew stronger.
He took a moment to himself to strip the coat and jacket from his body, and look at his phone - It was only 10:00 p.m., but it felt much later than that. 2D supposed it was a good thing and then quickly put it in his coat pocket before looking around. Bathroom.
He paused at the door, taking a gasp of air after realizing that he had forgotten to breathe all this time. A harsh pain in his chest followed suit, and he coughed a bit at the feeling before swallowing hard and turning the doorknob.
There he was, he thought. Beer in hand, like always, but laying in a tub full of water. He was sprawled out in the tub, head resting against the tiled wall, eyes closed. He felt himself become a bit dizzy, thoughts invading his mind of possible death and anything negative. He was afraid to walk over to him at first, but swallowed his fears and stumbled on over to lean over him.
He reached out his trembling hand and put two fingers under his jawline - there was a pulse, and he sighed with tremendous relief.
Murdoc didn't make a sound as his lids slowly opened, revealing bloodshot, watery eyes. His dark circles were horrendous, and the look in those mismatched eyes were full of loneliness and anguish.
2D cringed at such a sight and averted his eyes to the beer bottle in his hands, ready to fall. He sighed and grabbed it from him, surprisingly to which he didn't react, and set it down on the ground to the right of him. Now, swallowing a lump in his throat, he peered back at the older man.
He wasn't saying a thing, but simply staring at him with no visible signs of emotion, only a disturbing emptiness.
This wasn't right, 2D thought. Murdoc always felt something, whether it was angry or sadistic, it was a feeling. This was nothing. This was horrifying. It was the lowest of lows, and the saddest thing he'd ever seen.
"How long 'ave ya been in 'ere?" 2D whispered, moving hair out of his eyes that he knew Murdoc would be irritated at any other time. He, of course, didn't seem to care at the moment.
"I don't know..." His voice was distant, detatched, and again, empty, "How long...'ave you been 'ere?"
2D cringed at those words and refused to answer now. He knew it would do no good.
He put his arms under Murdoc and lifted him, glad he'd grown more muscle over the past year, and proceeded with carrying the drunken man out of the loo. The harsh realization was that his muscle mass hadn't grown much, but that Murdoc had gotten frighteningly light himself.
2D didn't want to believe that, so he went with the other conclusion.
The singer layed down Murdoc on the bed and looked him up and down. Bruises and cuts everwhere, as though he'd stumbled and fallen many times throughout the room. He peeled his eyes away from the sight and searched for clean clothing, ready to dress the man.
All the while Murdoc made no sounds or sign of recognition, that empty stare still plastered on his face with sunken-in cheeks and red eyes. He felt like he was dressing a doll in the process, and wondered if he'd died a few times. But no, his eyes were open, looking and watching.
"Mu'doc..." 2D whimpered, tears welling in his eyes. He turned away now, looking for a light, refusing to let him see that weakness. He had to be strong for him, because who else would?
"I..." 2D bit his lip as he heard that voice, and finally found a dimmer. He slowly turned it to the right until it was light enough to see, but not enough to give the bassist a headache.
"I... can't, anymore..." Was all Murdoc muttered. 2D closed his eyes for a moment, taking in those words. He finally opened them and walked back over to the man he loved so much, and took his hand tightly into his own. Their eyes met again, this time Murdoc showing only a hint of emotion - regret.
"I know," 2D whispered back, "Bu' i'm goin' to help ya', a'right? I'm still 'ere,"
Murdoc barely nodded, eyebrows furrowing together, "I...I can't..."
2D nodded, eyes closed to stop tears falling, "I'll always be 'ere,"
And that wasn't a lie. He always would be there for Murdoc, no matter what.
If he didn't want help, that wouldn't stop him from trying. He'd be there to clean up the vomit, to make sure he stayed safe while drunk, to keep him from harm.
If he wanted help, he'd pay for everything. Counselors, rehab, treatment, medicine, you name it. He'd spend it all from his own wallet without a second thought.
Murdoc was more than just a drunk. He was complicated, yes, but amazing and something you had to experience to understand. Something you couldn't just admire from the stands.
And, even at that, Murdoc was more than just his best mate. He was the only person 2D felt comfortable around, the only person 2D felt understood him, and the only person 2D ever loved so deeply and unconditionally.
"I love you," 2D uttered, leaning over the man and planting a small, gentle kiss on his lips. This was the only time the man responded, but it was only slightly.
The blunette pulled back slowly and looked into those eyes, now filled with now another emotion - relief.
"I..." he grunted, eyes blinking tiredly, "Love... y-you too..."
And a slight smile, 2D noticed, filling him with more happiness than he would've thought possible in such a situation.
He knew, without doubt, that Murdoc was silently agreeing to any treatment and rehab he had to go through to get better. It would be a long battle, but they'd get through it, no doubt.
They were two men, both with equally tragic addictions and issues, but they loved eachother and would do anything to keep it that way.

I wrote this because i was thinking of the Murdoc and 2D fanfictions.
No one EVER adresses Murdoc's drinking problem in a realistic way, but simply 2D's pill addiction. I thought about it and deemed it necessary to write this. So i hope you liked it and please review please.
Now, i think this will be the last fic of the night, because i'm mentally exhausted from my previous drabble story that i made all in one sitting. But we all know that once the computer's off i'll be writing away in my notebook. Because i'm an absolute loon.