Not so broken-hearted (2D/STYLO) Chapter 5
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Pulling into a wide driveway, 2D noted that there was no one else around the house he'd been given directions to. It was nice; dark red brick with an enclosed carpark, with some yellow green grass in the yard underneath a lonely, dry-looking mesquite tree.
Listening to the breeze rustling the tree branches and pitiful shrubbery, 2D leaned his seat back and killed the engine, allowing himself to relax and doze. His attention was caught as an 80's maxima pulled in next to him. It was dingy brown and not too spectacular looking.
A tall, lanky man in half-rimmed glasses stepped out of it. He was somewhere around his fifties, and wore a striped sweater. A pleasant smile was scrawled on his face. "You must be Stuart." At this 2D nodded and smiled, stepping out of his own car.
"You're my landlord?" he double-checked even though he knew the answer. "Indeed. I just wanted to meet with you to discuss a few things." He went on to explain to 2D that he would be staying without rent until around July, unless he could pay earlier if he wanted to. The man gave 2D the carpark door opener and left soon after with a handshake and a pleasant nod.
Opening the door, he fired up the Stylo long enough to pull the purring auto into the enclosure and shut the door behind them. He sighed, nerves wracked. It wasn't often he made a massive change to his life like this. He was just glad he'd gotten away from Murdoc.
2D sluggishly leaned his forehead on the worn steering wheel and gazed at the gasometer, which read at about one-fifth of a tank. He sighed; it'd be okay. He didn't plan on going anywhere. His eyes wandered across the dashboard. Dust coated just about everything in sight, making the black vinyl appear dull and faded.
Running a hand over the dash, leaving a darkened trail in the grey layer, 2D found himself lost in the shapes and lines of the weathered vehicle. He still burned with an anxious frustration at the state the Stylo was in. "We're torn, bloody ruined..." he muttered. He lifted his head a bit and looked down at the steering wheel. Without much thought to what he was doing, he gave the wheel a delicate peck and ran his hand up the steering column lightly.
Suddenly, he stopped, catching himself. He looked down at his hand, fingers still poised gently against the cylindrical structure, and quickly disembarked from the vehicle with his keys, locking the door and rushing into his house. Spying a pitiful couch against a far wall, the lanky man made a beeline for it, practically crumbling when he reached the stuffed piece of furniture.
Laying on the stale-smelling shape, 2D grumbled aloud. "I'm not one of them!" he proclaimed to nobody at all. Harrumphing loudly, he turned over and reached for a lamp on a tiny table by the end of the couch. Pulling the cord, he illuminated the room, confirming working electricity. 2D sighed, turning on his back and staring at the ceiling, eyes welling up a little. He felt like he was losing his mind.
He gnawed his lip at the side of his mouth, looking around the room. The layout was fairly open; the kitchen was connected to the living room and featured a stove and oven, a small refrigerator, a microwave, and a small sink along with some presumably empty cupboards. Directly past the other end of the couch was a small hallway leading to the bedroom; on the left was a bathroom.
Getting up, 2D slowly ventured to the bedroom. Shutting the door behind him, he sprawled out on the bed, looking around. A small bathroom was attached to the bedroom; there was also an open closet. It was all pristine and empty of any traces of having been previously owned or rented. Yawning, a little surprised at how soft the mattress was, he dozed quickly and nodded off.
2D awoke to the sound of knocking at the door. It was quiet, but audible and not very urgent. Jumping from the bed and stumbling to the front door, he opened it. He saw no one outside, but a box sat on his doormat; it wasn't marked, or taped, but simply folded shut. He picked it up and, closing the door behind him, carried it to the couch. He stretched before he sat down, which brought a sudden rush of blood to his head and he remembered exactly what he didn't want to; his head started to throb painfully.
Reaching into his pocket, Stu realised he only had one painkiller left. Lucky as any, he guessed. Swallowing it dry, he returned his attention to the box and quickly opened it. Inside were a few bottles of water, some cans of soup with pull tabs, and two bowls, each with a spoon resting inside. 2D saw the meager donation and smiled. "I wonder who sent this..." he took the box to the kitchen and sat it down, taking out a bowl and a can of soup.
Opening the can and pouring the contents into the bowl, he popped it in the microwave and sighed, looking out the window. It was close to being nighttime now, and he wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.
At a safe distance, Noodle sat in a worn down looking little pickup which was a rusty brown colour; she figured it was the least flashy thing she could find to follow 2D in. She'd been searching for a long time. The thought of his abuse by Murdoc every day for so long made her angry. She clenched the steering wheel as her eyes stayed fixed on the box on the doorstep down the road some way.
Not too much later, the tall man opened his door, looking puzzled, and noticed the box, taking it in. The sight of him doing normal things made Noodle happy; he was still like a brother to her no matter how distant they had been from each other.
Over a few days, Murdoc had begun to regain his strength, motivating himself the whole way by thinking of how he would rend young Stuart limb from limb the minute he laid eyes upon him. How he would bruise his skin, break his bones, maybe make him go blind once and for all. A dog, as Murdoc would put it, did not run from its master without punishment. And 2D had done much more.
After about five days in the hospital, Murdoc was checked out. He immediately began hitchhiking places to re-obtain his old sources of money, and dig from the bottom of his bank. He was going to make a spectacular entrance, and if he had to take both 2D and himself out of this world by some twisted work of fate, he was going to finish his story with a bang.
(A/N: Sorry this took so long. I'm starting Chapter 6 as I speak. It'll be better, I promise.)