Things were rough. Very rough. They were certainly rough physically, with the whole band crushed into their trash heap they called home on Wobble Street. They all complained about it, and hating where they currently resided was one of the only things the whole band could agree on these days. They had one car, and the poor thing was already on its last leg when Russell insisted they buy it. Financially, things were more of a nightmare than any of them had experienced in a long long time.
Emotionally. That was the rough they didn't discuss. It was fair to say they were all a wreck, although the boys knew Noodle was doing a lot worse than they were. But they all had jobs now, everyone but Murdoc of course, and relationships with each other were always strained and busy. So they didn't talk about it.
Noodle was both relieved and upset that they hadn't asked her about what happened to her in hell. One part of her thought it was out of respect, not to bring up any horrible memories unnecessarily. The other part of her worried it was because they just didn't care. Didn't care enough to ask, didn't care enough to know. She would berate herself for thinking this about Russ or 2D. Murdoc however, was another story entirely.
Noodle wanted to hate him. She wanted to hate him for everything he had done to himself, to her, to everyone she loved, but she just couldn't. She still despised him, resented him, held a burning anger for him deep inside and she desperately hoped he could tell. If he could, he certainly didn't mention it. But once again, emotions were just something they didn't discuss. Never seemed necessary.
But Noodle wasn't doing too hot, she knew her depression and anger had entered a dangerous territory with things only getting worse by the day. She wasn't stupid, but ignoring things was so much easier than the other option. Wake up, shower, go to work, maybe eat, go to sleep, repeat. But Noodle knew it wasn't that simple. She knew in between shifts she would break down, she knew sleep was impossible no matter how much she drank or how many pills she took. She knew showering was difficult, and that when she did she would burn herself with the water so scorching just to feel clean for once after everything that had happened.
Her anger for Murdoc was also still going strong. Every day that he would ignore it just pissed her off more, as if she wasn't doing the same exact thing. Noodle knew she was a hypocrite but she didn't care. HE put her through hell, HE should apologize. HE should have bring it up first, not her. However she would be lying if she said the thought of him actually approaching her about the subject didn't scare her. She didn't want to tell him what had happened to her. She didn't want to tell anyone, ever.
Frankly she didn't know what she wanted exactly, she just knew it wasn't this. Murdoc and her didn't speak unless they absolutely had to. She wondered if he hated her quite as much as she hated him. If they weren't ignoring each other they were fighting. Their fights could get very very bad, very quickly, and this just fueled their anger and hatred. Noodles towards Murdoc, Murdoc's toward himself and Satan and the whole damn world. They took out this anger on each other, because god knew throwing beer bottles and plates, slamming doors and screaming was easier than the alternative. Talking.
Noodle would try her hardest to get him to hit her, push her, or do anything to her that she could use against him. She would spew horrific words to him, saying things she knew would hurt him just to press his buttons. But of course he never laid a hand on her. That just made her more angry. How dare he pretend to care about her enough not to hurt her, hadn't he already hurt her so much? She had pushed and pushed and pushed him for months, shoving him during fights, screaming in his face, threatening him. He had never broken, never so much as touched her to get her off of him, so she assumed he never would. She was wrong.