The singer was thrown backwards by his neck, landing on his arse in the dirt. Shocked, he looked up to see none other than his own personal green demon.
"Murdoc?" 2-D choked out, his hand rubbing his own neck. "When did you get back?"
The green being grinned wickedly, sharp teeth glinting in the sun. "I never left."
2-D looked down to Murdoc's knees and the ground behind him, searching. Had he only imagined Murdoc's jail sentence? Was The Now Now just some sort of dream? "No..." he mumbled. "Then why is Ace here? Wasn't he here because you went to jail?"
Murdoc scoffed and poked 2-D's forehead. "I never left here, Dullard. Your brain, what's left of it."
2-D paused before he understood what the illusion before him meant. He slowly stood and brushed himself off.
"Then leave my head," he demanded quietly.
The green man laughed and swelled larger, looming. "You don't want me to."
"That's mad!" 2-D snapped. "Of course I want you out! Why would I want someone like you here, to keep hurting me from the inside?"
"Because I'm a part of you," the dark figure spoke with deep words that vibrated through the singer's heart. "You can't pretend that we never happened. You can't just throw away years of your life. What about the good times, the music, the drugs, the camaraderie, the pain we shared? The art we made together?"
2-D was silent, but he knew the vision had a point.
It continued. "It's not just the good times. You don't want to let go of the pain. You want people to know it's there, inside you. You want your heart, your being, your self known. And I'm a part of your black heart."
They stood together, looking each other in the eyes on the top of the ridge, their surroundings slowly disappearing into a blue mist.
"You're right," 2-D admitted. "But not for long. I'm getting stronger every day without you. I care more about someone else now. I'm more sorted. Fearless. Look back on what I've done without you. And I'll do more. I'm building a new heart."
Murdoc barked a laugh. "Is that so? You think the new, manic you, crashing wildly and breaking things, isn't going to burn? People hate your new prick self. Confidence isn't for you, everyone wants to trip you up, and soon they'll abandon you for acting like me." The vision was growing, the words like a thick smoke, filling 2-D's lungs. Suffocating him. "You said it yourself, you're incapable of healing. And what do you think will happen when I return for real?"
2-D sank to his knees, searching for clear air to breathe as piercing eyes watched from above, and the tirade continued.
"You think you're a hot shot because you don't flinch and hide and second-guess yourself and keep your mouth shut so much. But there are reasons that you did that, and you're munging everything up now by forgetting your place. You'll forget to protect yourself, mind and body. When I get back—for real—you'll regret who you've become."
Suddenly, as if empowered by a dark force, Murdoc picked up the singer by his shirt, looked him deep in the eyes, and growled "I'll be sure of that." The apparition swung 2D around, and hurled him off the ledge. 2-D felt the emptiness below him and yelped, falling deep into the canyon, arms flailing scrambling for purchase, for something, anything to hold onto, to thwart his descent.
But there was nothing. He couldn't stop the fall, and he started to feel a familiar emotion, one that he had hoped to be rid of: complete resignation.
Simply choosing to be happy would be about as easy as fighting against gravity. There was no point. It wouldn't work. He could feel his eyes changing as he let go and fell into the depths.
The birds faded into the distant sky. There was nothing to hold onto. Maybe there never was.
