Murdoc was numb. That's all there was to it. He sniffed. Damn anxiety tick. He lifted his phone, nodding. "I've gonna make a few calls, a'righ'?" he stated hoarsely, sniffing loudly again. "Wait 'ere fer me?" The doctor nodded. Murdoc sprinted to the bathroom, stilling once his boots clicked against the cool tile. 'Stu helped you pull of your boot, remember?' his mind stated idly. Stuart. Dead. No more nights in the Winnie. Dead. No more baking cookies. Dead. No more Gorillaz. Dead. No more watching Dawn of the Dead. Dead. No more pictures. Dead. No more cute crayon drawings. Dead. No more showers together. No more idle humming floating down the halls of Kong. No more piano audible throughout the carpark. No more midnight visits. No more cuddling. No more gap toothed smiles. No more black eyes. No more innocence. No more singing. No more angelic voice. No more blue skies...
Dead.
Murdoc dropped the cell phone, rushing to the toilet and retching hard, his back arching at the pressure. He sobbed, heaved, spat, wiped his eyes, and repeated the process at least five times. He couldn't do it. He slumped against the toilet bowl, drained. He'd go home and tell them. He'd take his time, remembering it all, never touching a beer as he went through all twelve floors of Kong, thinking of every memory until he found the courage to sit the two of them down...the last of the Gorillaz. Russel would weep, the shock of their relationship and the news of Stuart's death being too much for the emotional man. And Noodle...he felt a stab of anger through his pity. She'd be sad as well, but she deserved to see Murdoc's face as he told her. He dragged himself to his feet, washing his face, hands, and the screen of his phone. He paused to touch his cheek. Stuart had rubbed batter there not even 12 hours ago. He left the bathroom to return to the doctor's side. Ready.
The doctor was silent, feeling choked up as he took in the man's deteriorated appearance. Messed up hair, lips smeared with bile, the only shine in his eyes that of tears, hands shaking... His trained gaze quickly lowered to the tile floor as he turned and lead Murdoc back to see Stu. The nurses had tried to clean up the blood, but left the bits that were dried on.
He was too quiet, too still, too lifeless to be the same 2D that had been running about and giggling his heart out mere hours before. His lips were burgundy with dry blood and parted slightly, a gruesome sight next to the perfect little mouth that'd whispered sweet nothings whenever they were given the chance. His nose had the same caked blood along with a bruise across the bridge from hitting the pavement, one that had been cute and up-turned. His eyes... they'd been a deep pool of emotions, ranging from pure love to lust to despair; they showed it all. Now they lay hidden behind lightly bruised lids, never to see the light of day again.
The doctor was quick to back out of the room and let the two alone, not wanting to intervene on the lovers that were so close, yet so far away..
"I'm sorry, Stuart."
He was careful to use his full name. He didn't know what to say. It was still all a shock. He was supposed to wake Murdoc up...why wasn't he waking him up? He was supposed to be at the wedding. They'd had it all planned. And their little nameless girl...
"I know it was my fault,"
He sat in a chair at Stu's side, taking his cold hand, kissing it. This was the same one that had touched his cheek... Murdoc licked his lips, tasting only bitter liquids and tears. "But I have to say it." Every word came out clearly, all his H's and T's pronounced. He'd be proper in front of Stuart. He deserved it. Now, especially now, that he was dead. Dead.
"It may not make sense to you." Why was he even talking? Stu wasn't in a coma. This wasn't last time. "I feel like it's appropriate now." He kissed the cold skin in his hands, leaving it to reach down to his blessed boots. There, on the zipper along the side, was a simple gold ring one would latch their finger through to pull it closed. Trust Cubans to put gold on boots... Murdoc had never used this zipper because this particular ring had been yanked hard once when he caught it on a light fixture on their last tour. He'd pulled off the boot by hand ever since. With a bit of a tug and determination, the gold ring came loose in his hands. It wasn't spectacular by all means, but it was the thought that counted, right? He slipped it over Stuart's ring finger, sealing his fate. He'd married a dead man, a widower from the start. He leaned to unhearing ears, whispering despite the fact they were alone.
"I forgive you."
There was a long pause filled with nothing but the cold, sterile sort of silence that accompanied horrible news in a hospital. It was eerie, uncaring and overall unsettling- that was, until it was broken.
"D-das... good..." The words were soft and scratchy, hardly a breath over parched lips. Lids fluttered, air was painfully drawn in and the cold hand on Murdoc's twitched in an attempt to grasp his lover.
Stu had promised he'd never leave Murdoc. He wasn't one to break promises.
