A/N: Ordered a set of Gorillaz figures from Kidrobot yesterday. Now I only have to wait until the 13th and then they'll be mine! –evil laughter- For anyone who doesn't know, Kidrobot made huge figures of the band and though the first set is sold out, they have a new set coming on the 13th. Anyway, uber-thanks to everyone who reviewed, it makes me feel happy. I fiddled with the first chapter a bit, seeing as I forgot FF dot Net's weird formatting system and all.

Warning: The following pages contain chase scenes, Greek myths and a smidge of Murdoc angst.

You know the drill, this wonderful band isn't mine, but the doggy is. –sniffles- At least I still have the doggy...

Chapter 2: Of Greek Myths And Mismatched Eyes

2-D tried his hardest to sneak into Kong Studios; even though he knew that his fellow band members would learn about the dog sooner or later, he wanted to push the dogs meeting with Murdoc to the later part. He crept through the car park, holding the dog's mouth shut tight as they passed the Whinny, and was heading down the stairs to his room when he heard a door open.

"Face-ache? That you?" He froze, and thought about bolting down to his room. "Come 'ere." Murdoc's boots could be heard as he walked towards the frozen 2-D.

Not knowing what else to do, 2-D awkwardly placed his hands, the dog and all, behind his back as he turned around. "Yeah, Muds?" He asked with what he hoped was an innocent grin.

Murdoc opened his mouth to say something, but whatever he was going to tell 2-D was lost when he noticed the something behind the singers back. "Wot'cha got there?" He asked, trying to get a glance at whatever the black-eyed boy before him had.

2-D shifted again, continuing to conceal the dog from the Bass Demon's prying eyes. "It's nofin'." He lied. His gaze dropped to his feet. " 'S jus' a package fer me."

"A package, eh?" The Satanist didn't sound convinced. Again, he tried to see behind the singers back, but again had no luck. "Who's it from?"

"I-I dunno." 2-D was backing carefully down the stairs now. The last thing he needed to do was take a tumble down the concrete steps. "I'll let'cha know as soon as I find out, kay?" He hoped that Murdoc would go for that, but deep down he knew that he wouldn't be let off that easily.

"Come on, Dullard, why not open it right 'ere?" Murdoc asked as he grabbed 2-D and gave him a rough noogie. There was an almost threatening tone in the Bass Demon's voice.

Caught between a rock and an almost angry Satanist, 2-D had no idea what to do. He knew he couldn't show Murdoc the dog; the bassist would flip and the dog would be back out on the streets in less than a heartbeat. That or the dog would be road kill. Neither option appealed to the singer, but he was spared from thinking about it too long because suddenly the dog leaped from his arms and ran up the stairs, past the now terrified 2-D and a stunned Murdoc.

He started forward, but 2-D stopped when Murdoc turned his mismatched eyes towards the singer in a glare. "Dullard." He said softly, his voice filled with menace, "Was that a fucking dog?"

"Muds, lemme explain!" The black-eyed singer started, but Murdoc wasn't listening. He was racing up the remaining stairs in hot pursuit of the canine.

Russel opened the door to the car park, but as he did, a light brown blur shot out past him and started towards the lift. The white-eyed drummer watched the dog for a second, blinking in confusion, and then turned back towards the car park, only to pushed aside by a very angry Murdoc.

"Get back here you fucking mutt!" Russel watched Murdoc go after the dog, even more confused then before, but again he turned his attention back to the car park, when a blue topped blur raced past him.

" 'ScusemeRussel,Murdocwait!" The jumbled sentence confused the drummer so much that he reached out and grabbed a hold of the singer.

"Okay, 'D, what's going on?" The American asked calmly.

"I found a dog 'n Mud's gonna kill it!" 2-D answered, not so calmly.

Russel scoffed. "Muds wouldn't go that far, 'D."

"The man used ta set fire ta cats, Russel." Russel blinked. What 2-D said was true, which probably meant, yeah, Murdoc was going to do some not nice things to the dog if he got a hold of it.

"Muds! Hold up!" Both the drummer and the singer raced after the Satanist.

/This one smelt of even more sadness and of tears long since shed. His anger and hurt almost overpowered me; it felt as if his waves of pain were coursing through me as well. I glanced back at his unhappy checkered eyes, and through them saw a great, terrible pain. One that still haunted him today./

By now the throbbing in Murdoc's head was really beginning to hurt, and his broken ribs burned with the strain of running, but he wasn't about to let his band mates know that. Nor would he let them know about the searing pain he endured every time he took a breath, or the ache that seemed like a knife driving into his brain. He did, after all, have a reputation to keep up. 'Sides, if they knew he was still hurting, they might get all concerned and touch him, or worse, try and make him go back to the hospital. /Fuck that!/ He thought.

He saw the dog ahead of him, heading for the lift. He grinned, showing his sharp green teeth. Now the little dog was trapped. Unless, by some strange miracle, 2-D and Russel showed up in the lift. He chuckled. He knew that wasn't a possibility, they were still behind him.

He had heard 2-D's jumbled sentence, and Russel's various commands to "hold up" or "slow down" but he had decided to ignore them both. There was no way this dog was staying in this studio, and there was no one who could save it.

Then, Noodle stepped out of the lift. The dog leaped into her arms, and Murdoc skidded to a stop, wincing at the pain that shot through him. Noodle looked down at the unkempt dog in her arms, then up at the panting Murdoc. "Murdoc-san? What's going on?"

He dog barked happily, and licked the young girls face, causing her to laugh and hug the dog tightly. Murdoc sighed. If it had been anyone else, he would have gone right over there, plucked the dog from their hands, and thrown it out the window. But if there was one thing that he wanted in the whole world, it was the Axe Princess's happiness. She was his guiding star, and if there was anything she wanted, he made sure she got it.

Not that he'd ever let her know though. The same way he hid his pain, he also hid his feelings behind a mask of irate attitudes and sarcastic remarks. He knew it wasn't really the right way to go about it, but Murdoc Niccals had never been one to follow the rules when he didn't feel like it.

So, the Bass Demon plopped down on the studio floor in front of Noodle and leaned back against the wall, lighting up another cigarette. "It's Dullard's new dog." He said as he exhaled a puff of smoke.

Noodle gave a squeal of pure, unchecked happiness, and Murdoc had to force himself not to smile. She hugged the dog tightly and started to hop around happily, and that's when Russel and 2-D showed up. Murdoc stood, and pushed past the black-eyed Butterscotch Angel. "If that mutt ever finds its way ta my Whinny, it'll be next morning's fucking sausage. Got me?"

2-D winced at the bassist's tone, but nodded. "Yeah, Muds. I unnerstand."

Murdoc blew a puff of smoke into 2-D's face. "Good." And with that, he thrust his hands into his pockets and walked over to the studio and plopped himself down on the couch. He smiled inwardly as 2-D and Noodle played with the dog, while Russel shuffled off to the kitchen to find something that the dog could eat.

"2-D-san? What's the dog's name?" Noodle asked as she ruffled the dog's floppy ears.

The singer blinked. "I dunno..." He answered with a scratch of his head.

"Bubbles!" The young Japanese girl said with a giggle. Visions of Powerpuff Girls were still running through her head.

" 'Ey, that's not bad, Noodle." 2-D said with his sunny grin.

Murdoc snorted. "Pussy name fer a dog. 'Sides," Murdoc leaned over and lifted the dog for a second, then nodded in conformation. "E's a guy."

"So, wot do we call 'im, Murdoc?" 2-D asked as the dog leaped up onto Murdoc's lap and gave the Bass Demon a lick.

"How the fuck should I know?" Murdoc said hotly as he knocked the dog off his lap back onto the floor. He turned when he saw Russel entering, and then his mouth flopped open and he almost lost his cig. "Not the whole bloody ham, Russ!" But it was too late. The ham was on the floor, and the dog was chomping it down faster then a jackrabbit on the run. Murdoc slapped his forehead and muttered several colorful curses under his breath.

"What was I s'posed to do, Muds? Have you looked at this dog? He's a stick!" Russel protested.

"Stick! We call doggy Stick!" Noodle giggled again and started scratching the dogs back.

"Styx." Murdoc corrected as a sudden flash of inspiration hit him. He took another drag on his cig. "As in the Greek Myth. The river of the dead." Everyone was looking at him with various expressions, but all of them more or less showing happiness. If Murdoc had decided to help name the dog, then it was surely staying.

"That's a cool name, Murdoc." 2-D said with a smile. He then turned his attention to the dog who was finished with the ham and was busy trying to get one of Noodle's slippers off her feet. The singer gladly joined in the game of tug-of-war that soon followed.

Murdoc watched the two playing with Styx, and his heart was gripped by a sudden pang of jealously. He envied Noodle's innocence, and 2-D's sunny optimism. He wanted so much to be like them, to not always be so cold and jaded. /Can't be like them./ He thought bitterly. /Too much shit's happened to the Niccals; can't think like they do. Can't be happy.../

Russel blinked at the sudden, twisted expression of anger and sadness that had abruptly appeared on his friend's face. "Muds, you okay?"

"Never fucking better, you ponce." Murdoc snarled as he stood and pushed his way out of the studio and back to the sanctuary of his beloved Whinny.

2-D watched the angered bassist storm out of the lounge, and his sunny smile dropped. "Russ, wot jus' 'appened?" The confused singer asked. A moment ago, things had been perfect, or at least as close to perfect as they could get. His head wasn't hurting, Murdoc hadn't been yelling; in fact; Murdoc had almost looked happy for a second. For a few seconds there had been a flicker of a smile, a genuine smile, on Murdoc's hardened features. But then that dark scowl had reappeared and now Murdoc was gone, probably headed back to the car park.

Russel sighed. "I don't know, 'D. Muds just went "Muds" on us, you know."

2-D nodded, his grin now replaced with a sad frown. He reached out to scratch Styx, but found the dog to be nowhere around. He suddenly got a prickling feeling on the back of his neck that made his hair stand on end. "Noodle, would you go find Styx, please?" He was suddenly seeing breakfast the next morning; sausages and an evilly grinning Murdoc.

"Hai, 2-D-san." As Noodle got up and skipped out of the lounge, 2-D grinned a little. If there was one person that could get to Murdoc, it was little Noodle. And it never failed either. Whenever Noodle was around, Murdoc didn't beat on 2-D, didn't drink near as much, and he even toned down the swearing a bit. 2-D guessed that it was because Noodle and Murdoc shared some sort of wondrous bond, like that of father and daughter, but even stronger. Of course, he never mentioned this to anyone; he was sure Murdoc would have his head if he even suspected that 2-D was thinking along those lines.

So, he allowed himself a small grin, one that he hid from Russel. "Go get 'im, Noodle."

Murdoc was flopped on his bed with a bottle of Stolie in one hand and a burning cigarette in the other. He was remembering, remembering the awful things he had once sworn never to remember; the awful things that still haunted his nightmares and made him wake from sleep with tears in his eyes.

He suddenly heard a sound at his door, and he furiously wiped his eyes, causing the brimming tears to vanish into the soft fabric of his shirtsleeve. "Go the fuck away, Stu-pot!" He called to the dark-eyed singer he knew was there. He waited for the pathetic protest that was sure to follow, but instead the noise just continued. "I mean it Dullard! Sod off!" The sound continued, much to Murdoc's irritation. Grumbling about sacrifices and hospitals, he reached down and picked up an empty Stolie bottle. As he staggered to the door, he raised the bottle; ready to smash it down on top of 2-D's head.

"I warned ya, Du..." Murdoc looked around, but all he saw was empty car park. Upon hearing a small whine, he looked down to see Styx at his feet, tail wagging, head tilted, and tongue lolling out as it always did.

The Satanist glared at his little visitor. "Get the fuck outta 'ere mutt." He snarled. He slammed the door and turned to go back to his bedroom, when he heard the scratching again. Growling in irritation, he threw to door open and aimed a kick at the dog on his doorstep.

Styx narrowly missed getting hit with Murdoc's boot, and he dashed away around behind the Whinny with a startled yelp. Murdoc grinned in satisfaction, his sharpened teeth in a vicious smile. He closed the door and made his way back to the bedroom.

"Wot the...!" Curled up on Murdoc's bed was the sleeping form of Styx. Murdoc looked around, wondering how on earth the dog could have possibly gotten in, and that's when he noticed that he had left the back window open. Cursing under his breath, he grabbed the sleepy dog and held him up at eye level. "All right, mutt. Ya can stay in the studios, but'cher not stayin' 'ere. Got me?"

Styx tilted his head even further and gave Murdoc's face a lick. Murdoc glared and was about to start yelling at the dog, when he noticed something. As he looked into the dog's eyes, he saw that they were not unlike his own, mismatched and different. The iris on the left was green, while the one on the right was blue. "That why you're alone, mutt?" he asked softly.

Murdoc's own red and black eyes had labeled him a 'freak' among the rest of the world, even to his own father. Those jeers, those bruises and all that blood had helped to shape his cold rock star image. But they had also helped shape the trembling, lonely, forlorn Murdoc Niccals that no one ever saw, and who never came out except for nights like this when his darkest, most painful memories resurfaced and tore at his soul, thirsty for blood and tears.

As he continued to look at Styx, there were scars that he could plainly see now, along the muzzle and around the green and blue eyes themselves. Styx had been beaten by whoever had him last. Murdoc looked at the thin, beaten dog with the same dissimilar eyes, the same shitty past, and he saw the difference between the two. There was a sparkle in Styx's eyes, a shimmer of happiness and hope, of unconditional love for everyone and everything. It reminded him of someone.

Murdoc, still holding the dog, sat on his bed and lay down on his back, staring at the ceiling. Styx moved from Murdoc's hands to right beside the bassist, resting his head on Murdoc's stomach. With a sigh, Murdoc set his hand on the top of the dog's head and he idly began to scratch behind the dog's ears. In his minds eye, he could still see Styx's bright and happy eyes, even though the dog had obviously gone through so much pain.

"How do you fuckwits do it?"