OOO

Chapter 2: Black Eyes

OOO

2D nudged some freezer burned meat out of the way and called out from the freezer. "All we've got is meat and bags of vegetables."

Murdoc cursed under his breath and held his hand out. "Well give it here then! Before my whole damn face blows up."

The singer pulled the bag of peas out from the back of the freezer and tossed it to Murdoc who was sitting at the kitchen table and covering his left eye with one hand. The bassist leaned his head back over the back of the chair and laid the icy package over his eye, sighing in relief when it finally made contact. "Fuck me," he muttered. "Shit's gonna bruise for weeks."

2D closed the freezer and leaned his back up against the counter, making sure to stay at least five feet away from the older man. It was a habit he had fallen into when he had realized that a crank Murdoc wasn't someone you wanted near you. If you happened to be 2D, you were brave to even be in the same room as him.

Still, it wasn't like Russel was in any state to come inside the apartment and help out — not that he would want to anyway — and Noodle was certainly in no state to be offering any sympathies for the bassist. She had stomped up to her room and was currently shredding at her Les Paul, amp cranked up to full volume, and producing some violent riffs that were reminiscent of that heavy metal shit that Murdoc loved as a kid.

"Noodle's always been bloody strong, you know that," 2D offered, trying to speak over the music. "'Sides. You pissed her off good and proper, you did."

Murdoc rolled his good eye and reached blindly around on the table for his box of cigarettes. "Well I can't be pussyfooting my way around her to keep her from blowing up at me," he argued back. He lifted the box to his mouth and pulled out a fag between his teeth. His hips shifted forward in the seat as he began digging through his pockets. "Girl's been havin' mood swings since we got to this shit pile. How the fuck am I supposed to keep up?"

2D turned, opened up one of the kitchen cabinets, and plucked a lighter from the top of a box of cereal. He turned and tossed it to the bassist who caught it and muttered what 2D hoped was a thank you, but couldn't quite be sure. He watched Murdoc light his cigarette up and said, "I don't think it's mood swings, mate. She's not usually like this."

He wanted to say that he wasn't like this with him or with Russel, but 2D knew better. That'd get Murdoc pissed, leave him to give 2D a matching shiner so that he wouldn't be alone in his pain, and leave back to his ruddy basement where he'd keep avoiding his problems and not talking with anyone anymore. At least now with 2D trying not to say anything to tick the man off and with trying to keep his distance, Murdoc would listen long enough to realize that he'd gone and fucked up. Again.

Murdoc kept thinking Noodle was fine, but that's because Murdoc only ever saw Noodle when she was with 2D. When they were both together, 2D could pretend things were normal. They had their zen bond back. She'd be strumming along in the kitchen or in the living room, and she'd always smile sweetly at him whenever he came and joined her with his keyboard or even just his voice to fill up the room. Some days, when his migraines weren't that bad, they'd scarper off into his room, crawl along the floors looking through his piles of dirty laundry, and pull out some old zombie films or fighter video games in order to waste away the rest of the afternoon. Noodle looked like that ball of joy and soul that she had always been when they were living at Kong and when things were still normal.

It was when she was alone that 2D noticed that something was still wrong, and that things really had changed.

Poor girl slept worse than Murdoc, either sleeping through the afternoon or lurking around the house at four in the morning because she could never get back to sleep. Nightmares, she told him. But about what, she wouldn't make clear. What a young, healthy girl like Noodle would have nightmares about was beyond 2D. She never talked about what happened between that disaster of a music video and her miraculous appearance on Plastic Beach. Didn't like it. She either walked out the room, plugged in her iPod, or started playing her guitar over you whenever you asked.

But 2D had an idea. It was the dark little scars that peppered her legs, her shoulders, and her back that she insisted were "nothing" but that 2D knew had never been there. It was that black eye that she had sported when they had finally reunited. It was the way she would sit in the living room, frown lines showing on her face, staring up at the ceiling as if the chipping plaster were a movie reel filled with years and years of memories that she was too young to have so many of. It was the way she'd stare out the window, or down at her guitar, or at their basement door like she knew the horrid secrets of the world. That magic wasn't real. That tomorrow probably wasn't going to be a better day. That trying wasn't enough. That love hurt. That what you had now wasn't ever going to last.

2D winced as a particularly shrill guitar note rang through the rest of the house.

Murdoc growled and jumped from his seat. 2D immediately hopped up on the counter to keep out of the way, afraid that even bumping into him on accident would incite a rage. The bassist kept the bag of peas pressed to his eye, the fag hanging from his lips, and picked up a broom from the corner of the kitchen that no one ever used. He jogged up part of the way up the stairs and banged the handle of the broom against the ceiling.

"You're gonna wake up the whole bloody neighborhood if you don't quit it with that fucking racket!" Murdoc shouted.

The guitar riffs immediately stopped, but 2D heard a door fling open from the floor above them and heard a shout ring out. "I'll wake up the whole world if I have to, and you have no right to be telling me otherwise!"

"You goddamn tart!" Murdoc shouted back, flinging the broom behind him with a high pitched clatter. "You're giving me a bloody headache. It's bad enough you practically knocked my eye in, I don't need you and your music making my head pound for the rest of the day!"

2D covered his face with his hands, not wanting to see or hear anymore. Muds didn't get it. He really didn't get it.

Small feet began clambering down the stairs and suddenly he heard Noodle's voice coming from the top of the stairs. "Good! I hope it hurts. Let it make up for a quarter of the shit you put all of us through, because you don't seem to care unless it affects you directly."

"Aw quit it with the bellyaching, love," Murdoc groaned. "I get it. I'm a right git. Everyone knows that, and you've known that since the moment you agreed to be part of this band."

Noodle was laughing darkly. "Don't...don't use that as an excuse. That's your problem. You think that your default is to be an asshole, and you don't even notice when you do things wrong anymore." 2D heard Noodle sniffling. "You don't care…"

2D stood up from the counter and peeked around the fridge so that he could finally see what was happening. Noodle looked perfectly livid, her hands balled at her sides, her ears flushed in anger, and looking like she was about to cry angry tears. She was blinking them back hard and trying not to let them fall, but it was too late. It was damn well obvious, and Murdoc noticed.

The old man's shoulders slumped and 2D wondered if he had finally realized how serious all this was. Murdoc wasn't ever a good chap, that much he was right in saying. None of them ever really expected him to be a good person. But Murdoc had limits. Maybe he didn't have them with Russel, and hell he certainly didn't have them for 2D. But it was an unspoken rule that he always had them for Noodle.

Murdoc sighed and looked up at her in annoyance. "You're exaggerating — "

"Leave me alone, Murdoc," Noodle sighed turning on her heel and heading back upstairs. "I really just want to be alone."

Murdoc growled. "Damn it, get back here!"

But she didn't. He was met with the sound of her door slamming and that was it. Not even her guitar picked back up. It was just silent.

Murdoc plucked his fag from his lips and threw it at the wall, letting it burn out on the floor. He stomped back to the kitchen table and flung the chair out from under the table before collapsing into it. 2D got up from the counter and picked up the lit cigarette before Murdoc started another fire like he did in the basement last week. The singer was ashing the cigarette in the ashtray on the kitchen table before he asked, "What did you say to her?"

Murdoc groaned. "Damn it, Faceache, I'm not in the mood for your griping too."

"I'm not griping," 2D promised. "Just wanna know what you said. Poor thing's probably crying up there, and I want to make sure she's alright."

Murdoc looked like he wanted to pick up one of his cuban heels and chuck it straight at 2D's head, or at the very least leave the room and escape to some corner of the apartment where no one could find him. But 2D didn't move because, for once, he knew he wouldn't do it. Not with the possibility of their little girl upstairs in her room, by herself, crying over something that Murdoc said. 2D didn't like when Murdoc was an arse to him, but he expected it. Noodle wasn't like that. Noodle was different.

The bassist sighed, dropped the now-warm bag of vegetables on the table and stared blankly across the tabletop. His eye was already to purple and bruise, and 2D couldn't help but mentally cheer in his head that Muds seriously deserved it. "I said…" he started. He huffed and stood up straighter in his chair. "I told her I'd given up looking for her after she'd gone off," he finally admitted, not looking 2D in the eye and keeping his gaze anywhere else. "Told her there was no point."

2D couldn't help but laugh humorlessly at the news. No wonder Noodle had gone and decked him. The damn bastard really did deserve it.

The singer looked up at the ceiling and things were still silent. He wondered if he could still find that old driving game that he had showed her the other day that had yet to play together. Maybe that would cheer her up after she'd had a good cry. Or maybe they could pop in one of those funny movies that Noodle liked to have around whenever she had cramps and spent the day eating ice cream in her pj's. She always seemed to like those.

2D pushed himself off of the counter and headed for the stairs. "You need to apologize to her, mate," the singer implored. "That wasn't right and you know it."

He didn't bother to wait for a response, because 2D didn't want to be bothered to see how long a proper one would take to come of out the man's mouth. Instead, he jogged up the stairs, rapped his knuckles on Noodle's door, and waited until she opened it just a crack, her reddened eyes peeking out of the dark room. She rubbed the heels of her palms against her eyes to try and clear away the tears and scratchiness. 2D smiled sadly and tucked a couple strands of her hair behind her ears.

"Wanna talk about it?" he offered.

Noodle sniffled again and nodded, opening her door wider and letting the singer into her room.

OOO

-I've gotta write something not so depressing next time. I'll get on that, I promise.