The songs weren't half-bad. 2D almost cried when he read the the patch of lyrics under the title 'Melancholy Mountain'. It reminded him of Noodle. There was a question mark after the title, as if Murdoc wasn't sure on it yet. There were scribbled-out words and question marks on a lot of lines.

All the lyrics on the papers were extremely obscure, a bit more upbeat then he expected from Murdoc, but the singer admitted that they were very catchy. Almost all of the pieces seemed like love songs to him, and he still found it very disturbing that the papers were tracked by tearstains. It made him a bit sad, actually, and he didn't know why.

He had started to believe that it was late like Murdoc said, because a sort of thick stillness had settled over the room, and it felt as if it stretched through the entire building, because 2D couldn't hear a thing, minus the small hums and whirs of machinery and fans. And the occasional faraway drip, which made him very, very nervous. Wanting to stay awake, to wait for Murdoc again, the thin man tried to keep himself alert, even not taking any of his pills for awhile because they made him drowsy, but 2D was afraid of getting another headache, and it didn't last long.

He read over the song bits one more time before falling asleep, and was happy that he was too numb to feel like crying over 'Melancholy Mountain', or whatever it was.

For the first time in months, he didn't have a single dream. Or at least one he could remember.

When 2D woke up, the room was a little warmer then he remembered. It was nice, though, and he didn't mind. There was another orange and a bottle of iced tea on the shelf, making him frown. He didn't like the thought of Murdoc coming and going during his sleep, even if it was to give him food. The man wasn't hungry right then, and instead just went for the tea.

As he drank it, his eyes found themselves wandering the room again. What was he supposed to do down here all day, when Murdoc wasn't in here trying to convince him to sing? There were a few things, but he couldn't possibly occupy himself all the time without going insane. The tea suddenly went bitter in his mouth and he put it down with a dark look. Some of the songs had moved him, and he had missed Murdoc, he wouldn't deny it, but these weren't the circumstances he wanted. A different time, different situations... maybe then they could have done this.

But he had crossed the line by stepping back into 2D's life. Or, more accurately, dragging 2D out of his life and into Murdoc's own. But people would wonder. There would be missed appointments, unreturned phone calls... someone would realize he was gone. Someone would care. Right?

It was hard to convince himself right then. People would notice, for a little bit, but care? Maybe not. He could easily be forgotten, stuck here until the whole thing was over with. 2D didn't know if he'd be able to handle that.

He didn't really know what to do with his time. There was nothing on the telly that interested him, and there were only three channels, that all came in fuzzy and in a language he couldn't understand. None of them were news channels, which killed his hopes of figuring out a time or date. He couldn't find any DVDs either, and was thinking of using the bong, but he realized that there wasn't anything to smoke in the room, anyways. Was Murdoc just teasing him?

The singer was now sort of hoping the satanist would come down again, if just to give him interaction, give him something to do. And maybe ask him for some DVDs and some weed. Or cigarettes, at least. 2D was fiending rather fiercely. Another pill -one of the red ones- fixed it, though. He found himself sinking back into the mattress again, staring up at the ceiling. He had closed the curtains over the window much earlier, deciding that if he didn't see the water, it didn't exist, and being very happy with that decision.

He vaguely wondered what hemisphere they were in. Maybe Murdoc would tell him that.

2D had walked the lengths of the room a fair few times, including the bathroom and closet, before the other man returned. 2D had taken a short nap in that time, as well as doodled a few fish on a sheet of paper while he was gone, and finished the orange and iced tea. He guessed it must have been almost the entire day.

He was in the bathroom when Murdoc came in, but the man had a scowl on his face. 2D made his way back to the bed, keeping his eyes on his friend. "H-Hi, Murdoc." he muttered when he sat down. The man made a disinterested sound of acknowledgment and nodded, following him to the bed and standing over him. 2D recognized the smell of alcohol on him.

"I, uh, read the songs."

"Did ya now?"

2D sighed, wishing Murdoc wouldn't be so difficult all the time. "Y-yeah. And they're good." the singer said, reaching over and grabbing the papers. He was going to hand them back to Murdoc, but the satanist didn't take them. 2D grumbled under his breath and put the papers back down. He hated this. Not knowing what to say. It made things terribly awkward, and he didn't know how to go about saying what he wanted to say.

He opted instead to ask another question.

"Hey... do'ya know wot hemisphere we're in right now?"

The answer was unexpected, to say the least. It was lightening fast, too, and 2D barely had time to blink. A hand fisted in his hair and yanked his head up sharply, pulling him a little up so he stooped awkwardly. 2D let out a surprised shout and immediately lifted his hands to hit and grab at Murdoc's wrists. The bassist stared at him, searching his eyes for something(2D didn't know what), and he didn't let go until the other started scratching him, digging his nails into his skin. "Murdoc, wot're you doing? Leggo!"

He hissed and dropped the other, who plopped back onto the mattress with a wince. 2D shrunk back and glared at his old bandmate, prepared to scratch him again if needed. The bassist just put his hands in his pockets and frowned, acting like nothing had happened. "...I'm gonna go get some'a the rest of the songs, then." he said after a pause, and 2D couldn't believe how nonchalant he was being. It made him angry, but he didn't want Murdoc to try anything again.

The blue-haired man didn't do anything as he left, but ran his hands soothingly through his hair where Murdoc grabbed it once the door had shut. He was thinking over the strange outburst, and it confused him more then scared him, but he wouldn't say it didn't do both.

Murdoc came back quicker then expected, and he heard the locks begin to click and slide. But they stopped halfway through their usual tune, as if Murdoc was rethinking. 2D froze and listened carefully. After awhile, the locks began to click again, but in reverse. Did he change his mind?

Apparently he did, because three slips of paper were pushed through the crack below the door and into the room. 2D heard the familiar footsteps disappear again and his blood boiled. He got up and ran to the door, pounding on it with closed fists. "Murdoc, ya bloody prick, get yer ass back here!" he shouted. "C'mon, ya can't do this!"

Silence once again settled over the room.

He didn't bother screaming after him again, and instead grabbed the papers and went back to the bed. He swore under his breath, a few choice curses about his older friend, and lay down on the mattress. The papers were shoved under his pillow angrily. He didn't want to look at them right now.

Why didn't Murdoc come back in?

It started to drive him crazy. Was he too drunk? Or did he already get sick of him? The singer just didn't know. Was he feeling awkward after that interaction? Thinking back on it, he guessed he did provoke him a little, with the question and everything... Wait, what was he thinking? 2D didn't provoke him at all! He shook the thought out of his head. Murdoc was being irrational, as usual. The singer didn't do anything. It took a bit to convince himself, though.

After awhile, curiousity and boredom got the best of him, and he grabbed the papers back from under the pillows and began to read. These pages were also tracked with tears, another question that 2D would probably never ask.