Ace had just sat down on the couch and kicked off his boots to scroll through Twitter when he heard a thump in the kitchen. He stopped scrolling to wonder what it was, then stood up, put his phone in his back pocket, and walked over to investigate.

At the entryway, he scanned the kitchen, but saw no one at first. Then Ace heard breathing from below, and looked down to see his band-mate sitting on the floor, knees folded beneath him, rotating towards the entrance. Something was off about him; he was silent, but staring blankly in the general direction of the doorway, and his eyes were black.

"Stu!" Ace called and sped over to his friend, reaching a hand out to help him up. But 2-D didn't return the reach; instead he yelped, crouched forward in a ball on the ground, and covered his head with his arms.

Ace froze and tried to analyze what had just happened. Nine months ago, this reaction might not have been surprising. Nine months ago, when Ace first joined the band, Stu flinched regularly at sudden movements and touches, and would stare silently at the green man whenever he became animated about anything. 2-D even hesitated to shake Ace's hand when they first met, and didn't come with them to the bar that first night, citing headaches.

Ace was offended at first, but then responded by treating 2-D the way you'd treat a skittish cat, letting the singer warm up to him at his own pace, if at all. Ace had learned to respect boundaries well, and spoke softly and didn't touch his band mate. He learned not to point out when 2-D said something stupid, even though that was a lot. He learned to clack his heels on the floor before walking close to Stu, to subtlety announce his presence and not surprise him.

That, or something, had worked exceptionally well. Stu slowly began asking the bass player about his musical technique, and offering to carry his instruments, and a few weeks into practice they were going to bars together. A month in, Stu laughed loudly at jokes, when he understood them. Two months in, 2-D would talk at length, telling rambling stories that Ace thought were annoying. Soon, 2-D was flexing in pictures, trying to learn to cook for the rest of the band, standing on tables, wearing strange clothes, coming home at odd hours, and even locking arms with his band-mates when drunk. At some point, the blackness in his eyes had faded to white.

Ace hadn't seen Stu flinch in at least a month. Hell, just last night the two were sitting on the couch, with 2-D's arm around Ace's waist, sharing the same blanket and the same cigarette. In the small hours of the night, they had shared a lot more than that. Their hopes for the future, their fears from the past, some ideas for the band, a lot of which, come morning, would appear nonsensical and stupid. But it didn't matter; Ace loved watching the singer turn from some sort of impregnable fortress to an open garden, offering flowers.

Yet here the singer was, cowering on the kitchen floor as though Ace had pointed some sort of flamethrower at him. Ace stopped and was silent, then bent down to sit on his knees. He took off his black leather jacket and draped it around his friend's back, then patiently waited for a response.

It was a tense minute, but Stuart eventually peeked through his arms to look up. He looked in Ace's general direction, but not at his face. Ace watched carefully for what to do next, unsure.

Slowly, 2-D sat up on his knees and laughed awkwardly, head down. "Eh, sorry mate."

Ace ignored the apology and took this as an opportunity to speak. "Are you ok? I heard a sound; are you hurt?"

"No...no," 2-D responded. "I don't feel anything."

"Well, what happened? Why are your eyes black?"

2-D reached up with his right hand, but then put it down. "Eh, oh, they changed again? I don't know why. I don't know anything."

Ace paused, unsure how to continue, and whether he would get any answers. "It's like a mood ring thing, right?" He ventured. "They were black when I first met you."

"I don't know. I don't know. You know the blackness is because Murdoc..." he trailed off, then brought his hands together and created a bridge with his fingers. "God...do we know when he's coming back?"

"No idea. Why?"

Stuart sighed. "Ace, can I tell you something?"

That's all Ace really wanted. "Yeah Stu, what's up?"

"I...don't know how I'm going to deal with it when he gets back. I don't think I can survive it."

"Sure you can, buddy! You lived with him for years! Just do what you did before!"

"Before was different, Ace. That was different. I was different." Stuart got increasingly animated, clenching his fists, but he still wouldn't look at Ace directly. "Most of the time I was either scared or numb. That's how I survived. And I don't want to be like that again, ok? I'm not going back to that, I won't go back. I'm not going back!"

Ace was thrown off-guard, having never seen 2-D so energized and upset at the same time. Ace put his hands up to try to stem the emotional words.

"Hey! Ok, ok you're not going back to that. It looks to me like you changed a lot. You can still be happy when he gets back!"

A pause. "I feel like there's no right answer for me, though. Do you think I've been... too happy lately? Am I upsetting people?"

Ace wasn't sure what that meant, and thought back on it. Maybe D had been a little manic in the last month...even obnoxious. But it was ultimately harmless, Ace decided. Besides, it had brought the two together, with mostly positive exchanges, and much less secondhand sadness than when they had first met.

"No one can tell you to stop being happy, Stu. You know, maybe you've gone a little wild lately, maybe the pendulum swung too far the other way. But you're not really hurting anyone. It's only your business that you stay confident as long as you can. I know your life has been pretty rough for a while, and I think you deserve to have this for a bit. "

"Yeah. I don't know. I guess it was just a bit. It might be over now," 2-D said, and looked to the side. "I just saw some stuff...eh...I don't know if it was real...but I think I learned some things about myself, just now. I like being confident, but maybe it's not meant to be. I think just now I had some sort of, of breakdown." He laughed nervously.

Ace was surprised and a bit emotionally strained. It was strange that he needed to dole out so much reassurance to someone who just a month before had confidently called himself a "guru of transatlantic meditation." But he really didn't want 2-D to slide back into the clinically anxious wallflower that he had been, for sure. He really wanted to reach out and hold his friend close, to stroke his hair and keep him warm in Ace's jacket and arms. But Ace figured that, based on the body language he was observing, 2-D's stiff shoulders and downward gaze, Stu didn't want any physical closeness right now. Ace continued with the reassuring words instead.

"Hey, or maybe you just had a break through , huh?" Ace suggested. "Maybe you're not suited to be exactly like you been in the last month, but maybe you'll even out. The pendulum will swing back and forth a few times and you can come to sort of a happy middle. Having one bad day doesn't mean you're doomed! You're going to have mostly good days. You're going to be ok."

The corners of Stuart's mouth looked like they were turning up at this, Ace thought. Ace's words were like the hand he had reached out with just a few minutes ago: an intimate offering of support and connection. Stu's gaze slowly rose from the floor, and it seemed as though he was about to reach back with his heart and hold on to them. To hold on to Ace.