Across the Universe
Chapter 07
Phase 2 & 3: Pain and Guilt, Anger and bargaining
(Author's note: sorry if it starts to feel like I'm hopping around a bit in this chapter. I have to, however, otherwise this story would be like 800 chapters long, as I need enough time to elapse so as to demonstrate the seven stages of grief, which is what this story is truly all about. So, hopefully I am able to cohesively tell this story while elapsing the proper amount of time. Thanks again for reading. OH! And this is NOT the last chapter. Much more to come. ~StalkerDex)
An tense, yet somewhat eager, silence feel across the room as Murdoc Nicalls, Gorillaz acclaimed bassist, and 2D, angelic-pill-addicted-zombie-obsessed-singer, took a seat behind the table. It had a red table cloth on it, which was host to two small glasses of water and matching microphones. Normally it was four of each; another gentle reminder of the enormous loss the music world had suffered four weeks ago to the day.
The singer felt his mouth get dry as he looked out at the many reporters, cameras and microphones being held up in the air. It wasn't as frenzied as it had been the day they'd returned from this hospital; press conferences were a little more dignified, if it were possible to be so. The two of them had discussed it: Murdoc would do all of the talking. The blue haired zombie had been instructed to hop up on pills, zone out and act confused. He did as he was told, but he wasn't having a very good high. Truth be told, he was feeling completely paranoid, and the room full of inquiring press really wasn't helping to calm him.
"We are here to answer your questions now," Murdoc finally said, leaning into the microphone. His voice echoed throughout the silent room, evoking a small stir amongst the press. They were allowed to speak now.
"You," Murdoc selected a young blonde in the front.
"Hello Mr. Nicalls. CNM would like to know what is in store for the Gorillaz now? Will you continue to make music?"
Murdoc sat up a bit, his arms still on the table, hands grasping one another.
"Well, at this point we're not entirely sure what we plan to do. However, there are still two of us surviving, and we have no intentions of splitting up, so perhaps you will still here music from us, though not necessarily under the name."
The reporter nodded, taking down some notes, signaling she was finished. Murdoc called on another one, this time an older man.
"Will this loss have an impact on your music? Who writes the songs in the first place? Won't we get something completely different without the four of you together?"
2D looked at the Satanist nervously. He could tell he was angry with the stupid questions, as was he. However, D knew to hide his emotion and did his best to look too high to speak.
"Yes, I'd imagine it will have an impact on our music. We all collaborated together, though I write quite a few of the tunes, as well as D here. We are the main writers. However, at this moment, like I said, we're unsure of what we'll do and our concern is really not music at this time."
And so time went by. The conference was only about fifteen minutes or so, but it had felt like ages as his friend answered ignorant question after ignorant question.
"Alright, this is the last one," Murdoc announced as he pointed to a young brunette woman.
"Yes, Thank you Murdoc. Can you please tell us at NBG, what is life like now at Kong Studios without the joyful presence Noodle would bring, or the sturdy back bone Russel provided? Has it been difficult?"
D couldn't help but lower his eyebrows a bit in irritation. What an terrible question. He stared at Murdoc, aware of the fact that the bassist still hadn't really accepted their deaths. He thought about speaking up for a moment as Murdoc's breathing sped up and his arms began to shake. However, he was beaten to it.
"It has been," he began shakily, his voice very weak. He swallowed softly, "...it has been unbearable," he pushed out; he was losing control and quickly. A stunned silence filled the room as Murdoc's unsteady breathing rang out through the microphone. Everyone simply watched in awe as the bassist started to stand, his legs wobbling beneath him, a terrified and pained look on his face. D knew it was hitting him, just as it had done to him weeks ago.
The bassist clenched his stomach and leaned on the table with his other arm before letting out a gut wrenching sob and falling down, pulling a bit of the table cloth down with him. D simply stood aside, well aware that this would be hard enough for Murdoc, breaking down in the open; there was no way he wanted to humiliate him any further by attempting to comfort him.
It was hard not to though, as he was sobbing uncontrollably, shaking and grabbing desperately onto the table cloth and tugging at his hair.
"I want my baby girl back!" He cried out, "I want my best friend back! Why the fuck would anyone steal them away from me!? They're mine, goddamnit!" he squeezed out in the midst of his tears. This went on for a minute or so before he abruptly stopped, wiped his tears away and shakily stood up. He didn't look at the dozen or so pairs of eyes on him. He simply stormed into a small limo that had been waiting for them. D followed, disgusted at how distasteful the questions they'd been asked were. They had no regard for the fact that they were suffering intensely over the loss; it wasn't something that was scripted in a movie to entertain them, as they'd treated it.
"Satan, I lost it out there," Murdoc gritted through his teeth. He was clearly embarrassed, which made him furious with himself. D looked at him somewhat at a loss for words. He was afraid anything he said may set him off, as he was finally starting to lose it. He knew he'd have to watch it, especially with how ballsy he'd been lately. He knew he was pushing it.
The limo started to move. The driver already knew to take them back home. They'd had their whole escaped planned out in case things had gotten out of hand, which they obviously had. He sort of knew something like this would happen. The singer had recommended that they wait a while on the conference, as he was aware that Murdoc still hadn't accepted the reality of the situation, and he didn't want anything to provoke it in public, which it had. Fuck, if he would just listen to him sometimes things would be easier. Now he hadn't even gotten the chance to fully express his grief, as he'd been all too aware of the eyes on him. He'd cut it short, and who knew how long it would be now before he let it out again. However, he had acknowledged their deaths for the first time, which was a big step forward.
"Wot the fuck're ya makin' that face for?" Murdoc snarled at the singer. He had been completely unaware of the fact that his face was reflecting his frustrated thoughts.
"Nuffin'. I'm jus' high. I'm makin' faces."
"You don' do that when yer high, you jus' act stupider than usual. Wot're ya makin' that fuckin' face fer?"
D bit his lower lip, struggling to mask his anger. He hated being called stupid, and Murdoc had been doing nothing but putting him down. He was supposed to be helping; they were supposed to be helping each other! Why the fuck was he always so damn nasty?
"C'n we talk about it later then, please? We're in the car, and I don' wanna fight right now, ok?"
God they sounded like an old married couple, which D was painfully aware of. They'd been doing nothing but fighting for the last four weeks, and it really hurt him. Although, he had to admit, in the heat of their battles, he sometimes wanted to ravage the bassist. Not just ravage him, but seriously fuck the hell out of him: rough and callously. He wanted to treat him in bed the way Murdoc treated him on a daily basis. He wanted to scratch him up and make him bleed, yet, in a passionate way, not a vengeful way. He just really wanted to be sexually violent with him for some odd and unknown reason.
"Fine. Wot-fuckin'-ever," Murdoc responded before whipping out his phone. He was sexting again.
"Ya know, it might be beneficial ta actually fuck someone," D spat out maliciously, "don'tcha eva get tired of jerkin' off to that shit?"
"First of all, you jus' fuckin' asked me not ta fight! Second, I don't wank off, I jus' like the talk."
If only D knew that the last time the bassist had jerked off, it was to the thought of him. It wasn't only once either. It had been an almost three time a week occurrence. He loved to think of how gentle and passionate the singer would probably be with him; better than any woman he could imagine. Of course, he really had no idea how he was in bed, but he certainly did enjoy fantasizing about it.
"Why do ya do it then? If ye aren't getting any sort of physical release, why do you sit there alla the time and do that? That don't make any sense."
"None of yer fucking business. Hey, you'd better watch it. I'm gonna fuckin' kick yer ass if you don't quit mouthin' off."
The limo came to stop, snapping the two of them out of it momentarily.
"Here you are guys. Ride's already paid for by the record company, so you're all set."
D pulled a small amount of cash out of his pocket and handed it to him, "Here's a tip. Tank you," he said, very friendly before exiting the car and following Murdoc into Kong. He was still hopping around on his crutches, however, he could tell it was getting close to the end of them. He only had about two more weeks or so before the cast could come off and he could begin to walk again.
Thank God.
Despite their argument, Murdoc did hold the door open for him. He'd noticed, but didn't thank him. He was still too irritated, which was very out of the ordinary for him.
"Hey, I held the door fer ya, have you forgotten yer manners?" Murdoc asked, somewhat joking. He felt guilty for always being so mean, but, he honestly couldn't control it. He'd been having little fits of rage due to the stress, and he could see that D was suffering the same thing; probably where all of the fuckin' attitude was coming from.
"Ye, I saw."
He didn't turn around, just simply began to head for his room.
"Hey, Brainache, stoppit. Where're ya goin'?"
"To my room," he replied, a warning tone to his voice. Murdoc could tell he didn't want to be bothered, however, he'd just about had it with his friend's shitty attitude.
"Goddamnit, D!" He yelled as he quickly walked up to him. He had just reached the door to the garage and had started to open it, but Murdoc had caught up to him and slammed it, causing the singer to turn and back up against the wall.
"Wot the fuck is your problem!? Huh!? Why the fuck're ya bein' such a little fuckin' shit!?"
"Why do I have a problem!? Are you serious!? You're the one who has a fucking problem!" D yelled back, though not quite as loud, daring to shove the bassist in the chest, which did back him up for a moment. However, he simply came back with double the force, slamming 2D's head into the wall. He dropped his crutches as a sudden dizziness over took him, causing him to fall into the corner. This didn't stop Murdoc, who was in an uncontrollable rage at this point. He started pounding his fists into his angelic face, which began to bleed immediately. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't stop. He went harder and harder, watching somewhat horrified as D began to lose consciousness. Suddenly, however, he was caught of guard.
"Fuckin' leave me alone!" The singer shouted, getting a rush of adrenaline, lending him just enough strength to punch his attacker square in the face. He flew back and D, caught in an adrenaline dream, leaned forward and fell onto the bassist, punching him in the face. He wasn't being quite as brutal as Murdoc had been on him, but it was hard enough to let his mate know he was serious. Suddenly, however, he was also caught by surprise as Murdoc grabbed his wrists, stopping the punches, and pulled his face down, aggressively kissing him. At first the singer kept his mouth shut, not completely sure that this was actually happening. It didn't take long, though, before he realized that it was and he moaned helplessly, opening his mouth and pushing his tongue into Murdoc's mouth. Once his lips had parted the bassist did the same, each of them kissing deeply, wanting to explore the other's mouth. He could feel himself getting hard as the bassist rolled his tongue around in his mouth, almost choking him; he loved it.
He moaned even louder as he grabbed Murdoc's hair and tugged eagerly, lifting him off of the floor. They were both sitting up now, D's hands grabbing at the back of Murdoc's head, in his lap. The bassist could feel his friend's erection against his stomach which made him get hot with even more desire. Suddenly, he didn't want the sex to be so gentle as he'd imagined. There had been so much tension between them the last few weeks, he just wanted to get it out; the feeling was mutual.
D quickly tugged at the bassist's clothes and after a few moments they were both stripped down. Murdoc lifted D up and forced him against the wall, kissing him hard before shoving himself inside of him. The singer turned his head to the side and screamed; he could tell it hurt him, but he could also see the shear ecstasy on his face. Veins were somewhat showing themselves as his neck remained turned to him for a moment. He looked back at him and those empty eyes just pierced him as he grabbed onto his buttocks, thrusting in and out violently. D was biting his lower lip and whimpering as he tugged on Murdoc's hair again before moving to his back and digging his finger nails into him.
"AAAAAHHHH!" He cried out, also enjoying the pain. D could tell and he smiled deviously at the bassist when he returned his look. They were making a lot of eye contact, which surprised the singer.
"Go harder," he demanded before biting the bassist's neck, drawing even more blood. Murdoc did as he was told, though wasn't sure if he was capable of going much longer. He could feel the singer sucking gently where he'd bitten his neck. He was a fucking vampire, zombie maniac, yet he still almost felt as though he were being intense and hard on a child, which was starting to make it difficult for him to distinguish between his guilt and his desire. However, he was about to climax, so he pushed those thoughts out of his mind.
"I'm gonna cum," he warned. He ignored him though, and continued to suck harder at the wound on Murdoc's neck. He screamed out as he came, realizing at the same time that D was climaxing as well. He shuddered underneath him, drenched with sweat. Their bodies simply glided together as they writhed and shivered with one another.
"Uhn," Murdoc wheezed as he pulled himself out of the singer, both of them dropping to the floor, completely exhausted. They breathed heavily for a few minutes, staring uncertainly at one another.
"Erm, I fink I should mouth off more often," D suddenly spoke up, smiling and with a playful tone to his voice.
Murdoc was still panting, but he smirked a bit at the singer before responding, "I suppose ya will then."
D felt a sudden calm wash over him. So he was allowed to do this again.
