Not so broken-hearted (2D/STYLO) Chapter 4

2D woke to another warm, sunny day. The sun hadn't risen long ago from what he could tell. Unlocking the door of the Stylo and getting out, he stretched up and down, head to toe, joints cracking. Straightening up and wobbling a little, he made sure he had his keys before making his way into the Police Station. Today was the day.

Inside the small building, he knocked on a door with a little wooden plaque that read "TYNDALL" in gold letters. "Come in!" The voice of the officer inside called, at which he stepped in, closing the door behind him. The room was small and gray. In a large leather-covered chair on top of a green rug, Mr. Tyndall sat behind a large desk and in front of a packed-to-the-brim bookshelf. "Have a seat and relax, Stuart."

The man noticed that 2D was shaking a little. "Anxious?" He gave a little nod and smiled like a goof, a bit abashed. "W-what's me plan, officer?" He asked, still yawning from having woken up a short time ago.

Mr. Tyndall opened a manila folder that sat on his desk which had accumulated a mass of papers. He took out the first few pages and glanced at them. "Well, we've got you a place. We talked to the landlord, explained your predicament. Soon enough we'll recover your banking information and set up some services for you here in America." He paused, sipping from a glass of iced tea.

"Normally, we'd put you through a lot more, but seeing your situation, and after contacting your parents and other authorities, we validated your information and we'll be able to help."

2D brightened up. "M-me mum's alive? Does she even want to talk to me...?" he frowned. The officer nodded. "Everyone who knows you has been concerned." He froze at the word 'everyone'. Surely only his parents and some of the closer collaborators of Gorillaz had any sort of worries for him. He'd no idea if any of his band mates cared— or were even alive.

"We put out news to only a select few. Word got around and a young woman contacted us. Said she went by 'Noodle'. Do you know her?" 2D stared blankly, mind racing. Firstly, she was alive. That astonished him. Secondly, she still cared. That was also amazing. But after the trauma he'd gone through, he was almost afraid to contact her. How would they even be able to get along, especially after what he'd done to Murdoc? Surely she'd hate him, he thought.

"Yes sir, I do.." he trailed, looking down at the desk. Mr. Tyndall looked down at him. "What's the matter, son?" Shaking his head, 2D sighed. "Oh. It's just that she might be angry at me. I'm not sure what to do."

The older man nodded. "Anyhow, the house. I have directions for you, here," he laid a paper in front of 2D. "And all you need to do is arrive at the house around three. It's about one o'clock right now. The landlord wants to meet with you briefly, then you'll be set." He smiled, laying a key on top of the paper.

2D smiled. "Thank you so much. Will there be uhm..." he scratched his head. He was still a bit lost. "More..." he trailed a bit, furrowing his eyebrows. Mr. Tyndall picked up for him, "Investigation? Most higher authorities of America have been notified as well as Britain, and a global lookout has been posted to keep an eye out for Mr. Niccals. You will be safe, I can assure you."

2D relaxed a little, sighing. "Thank you so much. Is there anything else?" The officer shook his head, standing. He reached out his hand. "It's been a pleasure to help you, Mr. Pot." He smiled. At this, Stuart stood up. Leaning over the desk, he threw his arms over the man's shoulders and hugged him, fighting back tears. "You're the first one to help me...th-thank you, sir.." he let go, standing back, a bit embarrassed at his own actions.

The other man paused for a minute, then smiled. "You're more than welcome, Stuart. Any time." 2D wiped away a tear that managed to escape and smiled back at him. "I guess this is farewell."

Mr. Tyndall nodded melancholically and shook 2D's hand. "If you ever need help, don't hesitate to get in touch with me." He gave the younger man a formal card containing his contact information, which 2D eagerly put into the billfold he'd acquired.

"Thanks again." Stu picked up the paper with the directions and the key before he walked out the door, mind racing. What would happen? Would Noodle confront him? He had no doubt that the young woman was able to find him. After all, she was the ideal of many things; especially a thoroughly trained military personnel.

As 2D approached the Stylo, he drank in the sight of the black beast. It seemed to do the very opposite of shine as it absorbed the light, drawing him in from the bland, dusty surroundings. Before he knew it, he was standing next to the Stylo, running his hand across the dirty white vinyl of the roof, once again cringing over the disarray the vehicle was in, emphasized by the cloud of dust that flew up.

"I'll make sure you're well taken care of when we're home.." he mumbled absently before getting in and firing the engine up. He glanced at the piece of paper he'd been carrying. Easy enough to follow; they were numbered and lead directly from his location at the police office. Giving the building one last look, he fastened himself in with his seatbelt and left.

In the distance, a black car pulled out of a police station. It was riddled with bullet holes and scrapes. Focusing more closely, it was obvious that the driver had a mess of unkempt, grown out blue hair. The manner the figure drove with was cautious and collected, almost in a dainty way that said 'don't get so close to me'.

Setting down her binoculars, the young woman shifted her rickety little pickup into drive. It wasn't much, but it got her around much quicker than her feet could. If her lead was right, this was indeed the man she was looking for. At a safe distance, she followed the shadowy camaro, mind processing clue after clue and soaking in every possible detail she could observe and recall at once.

Murdoc opened his eyes again. He wasn't so sore, but everything was brighter than he wanted. Surely he'd gone to hell; everything pointed in that direction: loud noises, people running around yelling, a light bright enough to blind Lucifer, and a headache worse than any hangover he'd had.

"Bloody hell..." he closed his eyes, but tried to sit up in the bed he laid on. It was difficult. Difficult as could be. But eventually, he dragged his aching bones upward. "Someone had better get their arse over here and tell me where I am!" He shouted, noting he was hoarse. He honestly didn't care. He was going to beat the shit out of that little runt when he caught up with his scrawny arse.

A short, curvy Hispanic nurse rushed over to his bedside. "Señor.." she looked at the laminated bracelet around his arm. "Niccals. ¿Como puedo te ayudar?" She asked timidly. Murdoc frustratedly dug his forehead into his palm. "...yo.." he paused. He hadn't needed Spanish since he'd left Mexico. It became obvious he'd be wherever he drifted for awhile. "Quiero saber ...donde.. estoy..." he hoped he'd said the right thing.

Noticing he was having trouble speaking Spanish, the lady spoke slowly, hoping he'd understand. "Estamos en México. Tú... llegaste aquí hace dos días." Murdoc's eyes widened. He'd drifted ashore two days ago...he wondered if he'd drifted alone.

"¿Donde está mi avión?" He wanted to know where his aeroplane had gone. If he had it, he could fix it. However, from the quizzical look he got, he could tell it was nowhere to be found. He waved his hand and dismissed the nurse, who nodded and scurried off. Rolling onto his side, he sighed. This would be a long journey, and he planned to kill along the way.

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(A/N: sorry this one took longer than the others. I have no excuse. Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to review.)