He was drunk again. They all were, except for the little one. She was engrossed in one of her games, sitting nearby on a chair that was way too big for her.

"… and that's why I got white eyes." said Russ, finishing his story. Much to 2D's surprise, Murdoc had actually been paying attention.

"Thas' rough, mate," he slurred.

"It ain't so bad," Russ said with a smile. "He ain't really dead if he's in me, you know?"

"Sure," Murdoc agreed, his usual attitude placated by Russel's moving story (and of course mass quantities of alcohol).

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Come on man, didn't we talk about this?" Russ asked. "If we're gonna do this band thing, we can't be strangers. We gotta know each other. That's why we're here, ain't it? So, tell us something about yourself that we don't know."

"Noodle goes first," he said immediately. Noodle, who would normally perk up at her name, remained focused entirely on her game.

"She can't speak English," Russel reminded Murdoc, as though he'd forgotten. 2D supposed he could be so drunk he might've.

"Right," Murdoc said, not missing a beat. "Then 2D."

Russ shrugged. They turned to face him.

Russel's ghostly eyes and Murdoc's mismatched ones stared into his soul. They waited for him to tell them something they didn't yet know about him. But what was there to tell? What little he was able to remember about his "old life" wasn't very exciting (aside from how he got his blue hair, but he'd already told them that, since it was one of the first things they'd asked, and unlike Russel's story it wasn't really personal), and thanks to the car crashes knocking his brain around, everything about his "new life" he blurted out so often it was a wonder he still had any secrets left to tell.

But he did have one.

"I'm afraid of whales," he said, taking advantage of the courage the booze had given him. "Really afraid. Ever since I was little. I think it was that one movie, the one about the puppet who wants to be a real boy?"

Murdoc went rigid, but 2D didn't stop to ask why.

"It was when he got swallowed by that whale," he said. "Just… just seeing him going down that massive throat, not knowing if he'd ever make it out again. I-it just made me think, 'He'll be there forever. He'll probably never die, and he'll never see the sun again. He'll lose track of time, and years will go by, and he'll still be there, going mad with it, wishing he was a real boy…'."

The room was silent. Russel was struggling not to look at 2D like he'd grown a second head.

"You're er—" Murdoc said. "You're serious."

"'Course," 2D said. He was aware of how silly his fear was, but it was the only thing he'd been able to think of that they didn't already know. "Why would I lie about something like that?"

"You're telling me your worst fear is something so outlandish that no one could ever hope to use it against you?"

"I guess," said 2D. "Unless someone took me to an aquarium."

Murdoc gaped at him, his eyes squinted a bit like there was some joke he wasn't getting.

"Well, uh…" Russ said slowly. "Thanks for sharing, 'D."

"Sure," he said with a cheerful smile.

"Right," Murdoc said. "My turn, yeah? Something you sorry sods don't know about me. Well, where to begin? I am quite the enigma, after all—"

"Just say it, man," Russel said.

"I drink."

"Nice try, Muds," said Russ, unimpressed.

"A lot."

"Murdoc."

"Alright, alright, don't get your panties in a knot," Murdoc grumbled. His elbows perched on his thighs and he leaned forward, staring at the bottom of his drink. He seemed to be thinking very hard about something.

"My father used to beat me," he said suddenly, and 2D knew he must have lost his mind because there was no amount of alcohol in the world that would have made Murdoc admit that. Or so he'd thought.

Murdoc looked up at them both, and his eyes went wide as his mind caught up with his mouth, and he realized what he'd said.

"'Course I probably deserved at least half of it, the amount of trouble I got up to," he quickly covered, his usual snarky voice back on in full. The voice 2D recognized as artificial. Plastic. "Not like it ever helped, see. Had a bit of a knack for nicking, always looking for opportunities to use my five-fingered discount."

Russ was silent. 2D couldn't think of anything to say either. Murdoc looked like he was trying hard not to panic.

"Also deflowered most of my classmates," said Murdoc, now refusing to meet their eyes. "Probably got loads of little Murdocs running around out there by now, come to think of it. The amount of times my old man had to answer the door to some poor bird's distraught daddy. Yeah, I did my fair share of earning what got to me."

"I don't think—" Russel tried, but Murdoc cut him off.

"So there," he said loudly enough to let Russel know the conversation was over. He then began to down the rest of his drink like it was water. When his glass was drained, he smacked it down on the little table between them and sighed. "Now you know something about me. I wouldn't go telling the tabloids about that one when we're famous, if you know what's good for you."

Russel didn't try again, and Murdoc quickly changed the subject. The next morning, everyone acted like they'd been too wasted and couldn't remember what Murdoc said. Murdoc never thanked them for it out loud, but they all knew he was appreciative.

Besides, it's not like they hadn't figured it out already anyways.

He could feel it coming, but it didn't matter. There were no more pills in his little orange bottle.

He'd had this problem before, but it didn't stop him dreading the hours to come.

If he could lay down somewhere silent and dark, he could get through it. It wouldn't be easy – it was never easy – but he'd live. Warmth helped, like a bath or a hot cloth on his forehead, but he was already in far too much pain and delirium to manage any of that now.

Sometime later, he almost didn't notice the bassist come in.

"No pills," 2D managed to choke out. Murdoc cursed under his breath. In seconds Murdoc had crossed the room and was sitting next to him on his bed. He gently maneuvered 2D until he was pressed against his side, and 2D had neither the strength nor the state of mind to protest.

2D's forehead rested directly against impossibly hot bare skin, and it instantly helped soothe his pain.

It was blissfully quiet, wonderfully dark, and blessedly warm here, in this space between realities. He didn't move until the migraine faded into a dull headache. Easily ignored given the amount of pain he was in earlier.

As soon as he moved away, the pain came back. He hastily threw his arms around Murdoc to keep him from leaving, and Murdoc sighed. 2D whimpered, and pressed his forehead against what he now understood to be Murdoc's chest. He suddenly remembered when Murdoc had done this for him before, and understood why he was so quick to do it now; he knew it worked.

"Suppose you've got me to thank for them," Murdoc said eventually.

Sure, the accident didn't help, but he'd been having migraines before Murdoc ever came into his life. Nothing, not even his own mother, had been able to help as well as the pills. Until now.

"Thank you," 2D replied.

"I didn't mean literally, dullard," said Murdoc, without his usual malice.

"I meant for taking the pain away."

Murdoc said nothing after that. 2D looked up and caught a shimmer of light in Murdoc's eyes.

2D blinked, and it was gone.

2D opened his eyes and immediately realized something was wrong.

The light in the room felt too shimmery, like glitter. His skin felt too just the tiniest bit too tight. He could hear the blood pumping through his body. His nerves were oversensitive, and he got stuck in a mind blank when he ran his hands against the silky sheets.

He knew Murdoc wasn't there, but his hand searched for him anyway. Cold, empty, as he'd expected. But then, where had he gone?

2D managed to get himself out of bed and to the bathroom, where he had a quick piss and gulped down what might have been half a liter of water from the sink tap. He felt considerably better, but still considerably off. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He needed to find Murdoc.

A glance out of Murdoc's bedroom windows revealed a gray sky. It was early, overcast. It was weird that he was up, but even weirder that Murdoc already was, too.

He bumped into someone, and looked around, confused. How had he gotten to the living room?

"You all right, 'D?" asked Pos. His hand was on 2D's arm, like he didn't trust that he could stand on his own.

"M'fine, where's Murdoc?" 2D squinted and saw several of the musicians out on the large balcony. It was far too bright outside. Hadn't it been overcast?

"He's in the Studio," Pos answered. "You sure you're okay, man? You look like shit."

"Hangover," 2D lied, though he wasn't sure why he felt the need.

2D turned a corner and found himself alone. Confused, he was about to turn back the way he came when he remembered what he'd originally set out to do.

The Studio, 2D repeated in his head. And then he was in the lift, staring at the button he needed to press instead of pressing it.

The lift moved. When had he pressed the button? A vague memory of it existed in his mind, but time was beginning to make less and less sense. Pain was a living creature banging away at the inside of his skull.

Migraine, his broken brain finally recognized as he stumbled out of the lift and onto a new floor. It was getting harder to stay upright. Gravity swayed back and forth, or maybe it was him. He searched his pockets, hoping he'd find the familiar orange bottle. Nothing. He'd always been clumsy and forgetful when it came to carrying them around.

Yet another reason to find Murdoc; he always seemed to know where they were.

2D pressed his aching head against the Studio doors, felt the vibrations of a pumping beat pulse through him. He couldn't hear lyrics yet, but there was definitely a new song being played in there.

Find someplace dark and quiet. He knew he should listen to his instinct, but he refused. He was so close to Murdoc, he couldn't pull away. Even being stuck listening behind a firmly closed door, with a migraine ravaging his senses, was better than missing out on another piece of the puzzle.

"Hey 'D, you're a winner."

Why were the lyrics were talking to him? No, that wasn't right. When the line was repeated, he heard it correctly.

"Pay day, you're a winner. Keep cool, form a line…"

He couldn't be sure who was rapping just from their slightly muffled voice, but he could hear the funky brass swimming through the beat and he clung to it. The longer the song went on, the harder it was to keep up. Everything was moving so fast. Blurring lights, ringing bells, noises from the fairgrounds he used to work at.

"Whatcha want? How you like? Aim high, why not?"

"S-sure…" 2D mumbled deliriously in answer to no one.

"Sweepstakes! You're a winner."

"What'd I win?" He smelled cotton candy and expired popcorn.

"Scared money, broke money, bold money, mo' money…"

"N-no thanks…" Someone was trying to hand him a brightly colored stuffed bear that smelled vaguely of petrol. He made to push it away but his hands went right through it.

"So sunny, cloud breaker, sound maker, wave runner…"

"Hurts." Dodgems in his skull.

"Wild wonder, funky drummer, you can get it how you wanna…"

"Stop." Screaming kids on thrill rides.

"There's math and there's dealers and players and killers and me. They say that they winners…"

"Please."

"You pay or you play, the rules of the trade."

"Muds…"

"The math of the days, the times of the age."

I don't want your plastic.

I just want you.

2D didn't realize the song was over, nor that he'd somehow ended up on the floor, with his shirt pulled over his face, until Murdoc nearly tripped over him.

"Bloody fuckin'— 2D?"

All 2D could manage was a pathetic whimper.

"Shit," Murdoc cursed before helping 2D to his feet. The movement made his entire head throb, and 2D had a fleeting thought that maybe this was the time it would finally explode.

"You have pills?" Murdoc asked, keeping his words to a minimum. His voice was softer than it had any right to be. 2D hummed a quiet no, and Murdoc cursed again.

2D felt the smooth silk of Murdoc's sheets before he even realized he was horizontal. Murdoc left the room soon after, and it was all 2D could do not to pathetically beg him to stay.

"My father used to beat me."

Distant stars come in black or red…

"Stuart Pot, you get down from that tree this instant!"

I've seen their worlds inside my head…

"Sweepstakes! You're a winner."

They connect with the fall of man…

"What do you mean you can't find them? Look again!"

"They breathe you in…"

"Stu?"

"Make it stop," 2D said, pushing through the haze of pain to grasp at the right words. "Please, Muds, it hurts."

"She's still looking—"

"You've done it before," said 2D, before he could stop himself. "It helped. Please…"

Murdoc paused to think about it, but not for long. He climbed into bed beside 2D and let him cling desperately to his clothed torso. All 2D could think about was the relief. He absorbed the heat like a sponge, nearly cried at how much better he felt almost immediately.

As the pain faded into something far more manageable, reality began to take its proper shape once again, and 2D could spare the brainpower to take in his surroundings.

For a while, Murdoc was tense, sitting upright and rigid, his arms splayed widely outward so he wouldn't have to touch 2D any more than was necessary. It wasn't hard to tell he'd rather be a thousand other places than here. For 2D, it was the precise opposite.

Murdoc probably didn't remember, but he had done this for him in the past, back when things were less complicated. One more thing from before the Beach that still lived on. It hadn't happened too often, but every now and then he'd either run out or misplace his pills, and Murdoc would find him, curled up in a dark, quiet place, whimpering from the pain.

It was always Murdoc that found him, too. Like he knew, somehow, that 2D needed him. Sometimes, if he was lucky, Murdoc would run his fingers through 2D's hair, take even more of his pain away.

He wasn't so lucky now, of course.

2D wondered how it could feel so different now, even though it was the same thing. He wanted to say something to break the strange sort of tension between them, but he didn't. It may have happened plenty of times, but they never actually talked about it.

Nobody raise your voices…

His thoughts turned to Sweepstakes instead.

The meaning of this song wasn't too hard to decipher, even for him. Much like Superfast Jellyfish, it was heavily inspired by consumerism. Cheap plastic toys for prizes, scams to draw people in, make them spend more money. Rubbish being dangled in front of people, being chased after, though it has no value. There was a reason he'd hallucinated the fairgrounds.

But there was more to it than that. More that 2D couldn't quite process. He'd grasped at it during the worst of the hallucinations. I don't want your plastic. I just want you. It felt like he'd realized something, a connection between Murdoc and the Beach. But what that connection was, exactly, he couldn't be sure.

He'd touched the concept, he knew he had. But, as usual, the truth seemed beyond his comprehension. Not for the first time, he wished his brain wasn't so damaged.

"Why were you outside the Studio?"

2D didn't move, still afraid the pain would come back if he removed the living heat pack from his forehead. He couldn't avoid answering, though.

"I was listening to the song," 2D responded.

"Yes, but why?"

"I wanted to," 2D said.

They were silent for a while. 2D was close to drifting into sleep when Murdoc spoke again.

"Why?" he asked, and it sounded so small and desperate that it finally made 2D look up. But before he could get a good look at Murdoc's face, Cyborg came running into the room. In one hand an orange pill bottle, the other a glass of water.

"Better late than never," Murdoc grumbled, confirming that the moment they'd shared just now was over before it had really begun. "Bring it here, then."

2D sat up and took his pills, and Murdoc happily regained his freedom. He got out of the bed and walked to his door with purpose, like he had someplace to be.

"Wait!" 2D called out. Murdoc stopped and turned to give him an expectant stare. "Thanks, Muds. For taking the pain away."

Murdoc did everything he could to keep the sad smile from showing through his mask, but 2D saw it anyways, even if it was only there for a second.

He did remember.

"That's good to know," said Murdoc. Their eyes met and held, Murdoc's mismatched black and red, staring at his fractured ones. "That I can do more than just cause it."

With that, he turned and left the room, taking Cyborg with him, and leaving 2D alone.