Disclaimer: I do NOT own Gorillaz or anything about them—they are fabulous. But they belong to Jamie Hewlett & Damon Albarn, ladies and gents. I only play with them. Therefore, please do not sue me; you won't get a dime, trust me.

A/N: OMFG…that took forever, didn't it? I'm SOOOO sorry for making you all wait so long, but you know…this was one of the harder chapters to write. I hope I did well enough. I enjoyed it. But eh, we'll see if you all do. Anyhow…I'm like, salivating at the thought of them coming to the USA and being able to buy that Video Camera VIP ticket package for like…$400…yea, I'll do it cause I'm nuts! Anywho, onto the story. I hope you like it and I'll try to be better about updates. I'll be working on a review page cause you are all sooo amazing. For now, a special thanks to The Hazel-Eyed Angel cause she is freakin amazing and super encouraging. Now, go read her story Empire Ants cause it is damn awesome; NOW I SAY!

'thoughts'

"Talking"

Everything else

It's a Casio on a plastic beach

It's a Casio on a plastic beach
It's a Styrofoam deep-sea landfill

It's a Styrofoam deep-sea landfill

It's automated computer speech

It's automated computer speech
It's a Casio on a plastic beach
It's a Casio

~Plastic Beach - Gorillaz

Canvas of Imperfection

Floating, endlessly, through time and space. This is how Noodle felt as she wandered around the corridors of Kong, the desolate atmosphere wrapping her up in uncertainty and hesitance. She couldn't figure out what was worse: the stoic silence or the eerie ticking of old clocks. For some reason the incessant noise reminded her of a time bomb ready to go off at any second. The purple locks underneath her fingertips felt soft, maybe even too soft, to be real. And the skin beneath her hands also felt odd, whether it was beautiful or not becoming irrelevant. Was it real, really real? Noodle's mind did a flip-flop as she thought about that sentence. It didn't make any sense. Disregarding such a ridiculous focus she brought her mind back to the "girl" beneath her grasp. It was strange enough that the Android was even IN Kong to begin with, seeing as to its existence didn't belong in her old home. The Android looked all the bit as normal as any girl at the age of fourteen. The older woman had to remember that she was looking at a machine, not a girl, not herself, not an actual person.

However, the Android did have all the superficial characteristics of a real, flesh-covered person: synthetic hair that appeared real to the eye and real to the touch. Artificial jade colored eyes that blinked like anyone else's paired with a facial structure that looked realistic in architectural make-up and skin tone completed its face. Its body looked like a fourteen year old, one who hadn't quite developed but was in the beginning stages. Its clothing was perfectly fitted and chosen, the pieces matching the hat atop its head and boots on its feet. It even had a name though, perhaps, not the most flattering of names; Cyborg Noodle, or Android Noodle. So, in theory, it was more or less a complete person—except the part where it lacked a heart and soul. 'Which makes it pretty hard to be a person, let alone a living thing,' she concluded, giving the Android's head an affectionate rub. She was still pondering this when she heard a familiar but slightly scratchy voice calling to her. Glancing down, she was aghast to find the machine looking directly up at her, eyes wide and innocent.

"Are you…the real me?"

Taken aback, Noodle dropped her fingers from its hair and took a step back, grasping for words at the realization of what she'd just said. The android said nothing in return, sitting silently and resolutely where it had been for almost a year. Though its eyes were now open it did not offer her any consolation or advice in reference to her dilemma, which caused her even more frustration. Sighing, she pushed the Android away from her, watching placidly as it fell back on the carpet without any protest. It lie there, bent back at an awkward angle due to the carelessness in which she'd practically thrown it, shins flattened beneath its thighs. If she'd been human it would have been a rather painful positions to be in if she wasn't a yoga student or gymnast. But Noodle had no intention of fixing her or setting her straight for it would mean she cared about the android. And she didn't.

It was a fake, artificial and made from metals, made from man, made from Murdoc's repulsive hands. And she, Noodle, was real, authentic, made of flesh and bone, made with a soul and a heart. 'And that should comfort me,' she mused as she glared down at the imposter at her feet. 'So…why doesn't it make me feel better, at all?' She suddenly felt hands on her shoulders and let out a terrified yelp as she saw the Android smirking up at her, a snarl on its face as it laughed at her.

"Noodle!"

She pushed at it, violently. "Get off of me!" When I began to shake her Noodle felt panic rush through her veins. She started to slap it when it gave her one last shake, hard at that.

"Noodle!"

Her eyes popped open as she looked into the black eyes of 2D, who was staring at her with a worried expression. He was hovering over her, hands on her shoulders and supporting himself with his knees. Out of breath and shocked, she touched his face with her fingertips to make sure he was real. "2D-san…?"

"Lil love…yew was thrashin' an' kickin' like an animal….yew awright?"

Turning her head to the side, she realized she was not alright; far from it, in fact. With a sigh Noodle sat up, not really thinking about where she was, how they were positioned, or how close he actually was. Consequently she grunted in pain when her head connected with his chin, sending her hands and his to rub their respective injuries. Cursing, she finally ceased when the ache subsided, bringing her face up to thank him for waking her when her nose bumped into his. To say she was surprised was the understatement of the year. Noodle practically jumped back at the contact but something would not allow her this opportunity as she stared at him, their noses touching, hands immobile and lips parted. She could smell him, almost taste him too. Licking her lips, she started to press forward towards him, lips seeking his, when 2D leaned back, hesitantly and reluctantly at best. Noodle's disappointment was short lived, however, when he leaned back too far and fell off the bed, landing in a heap of tangled limbs on the floor. She stifled the instant laugh that wanted to break free, hands flying to her mouth in concealment. But after the initial excitement of his accident wore off she found a sinking feeling settling in the pit of her stomach at the remembrance of why he'd fallen in the first place. Holding back another sigh she stood quickly and pushed past him, all recollection of the previous night shoved back to the dark recesses of her mind.

"Lil love?"

"Breakfast," she answered curtly, slamming his door behind her. She didn't bother to give him any further explanation since she felt very much like throwing up at that exact moment. Forgotten was the warmth that had enveloped her the night before, the even beating of his heart that lulled her to sleep. Gone was the comforting, delicious sigh he'd emitted as she'd curled into his back for safe haven. No, the previous night seemed like a past memory, beautiful but fleeting. She had heard 2D stumble after her but had no intention of returning his pleading calls for her to come back. The annoyance and disappointment circulating through her were enough to make her heart stop pounding with sorrow for the vocalist, if just for a moment. Sighing, Noodle made her way back towards the floor that was to, very soon, become her own private abode. It still smelled strange and appeared as though it had yet to be touched for more cleaning. She assumed that it had everything to do with the fact that Murdoc controlled the movers, the cleaners, etc. And he was endlessly lazy, and probably couldn't stand her right now. She snorted at this thought. 'What a jackass.' She knew she couldn't stand him at the present either; and forcing herself would prove a positively pointless decision on her end. They'd come around when they were ready.

Noodle was beyond not being ready.

She was turning 23 in October, which wasn't that far from away—more like 2 months—and she wasn't sure why it felt like this would become a turning point for her and her family. 'Well…somewhat family.' Thinking of ALL of them as family seemed like a sin, mainly because how she felt about 2D was far from familial, let alone reserved or PG-13. Stopping at the door to her impending room Noodle found her thoughts wandering back to the singer. He was, to her, the epitome of a lost, beautifully misunderstood but simple soul. While it was true that 2D wasn't the brightest nor the empty headed fool people believed him to be, she knew that his head wasn't swimming with much of anything. If it was, she imagined it was mostly music lyrics and random ideas about what his life could've been, if that. He really was quite a simple fellow with basic wants and needs that needed fulfillment to be happy. While she wouldn't go as far as to call him a simpleton—it seemed slightly insulting—she did figure he didn't think much outside the realm of basic ideology. She wondered, more now than ever, if he thought about love, if he thought about sex, if he thought about her, mostly. In her mind, Noodle didn't think having sex meant one really thought about it all the time, or ever. Sometimes the body did what it wanted to, she now knew.

"Ugh…why am I even thinking about this? It's only going to depress me even more," she mused as she stood in the doorway of her room, pretending to be deep in thought though no one was around to see the façade. Something didn't make sense about the way Plastic Beach functioned. It was fake, a beach made of trash, plastic, plaster—everything that was artificially created. This, of course, was why it was named a Plastic Beach as opposed to a real one. But everything in it was unreal, from the structure to the people dwelling within its hard walls to the image of a real sandy landscape. Murdoc was fake, Russel was fake, and 2D was fake. All of them were. Even she was fake. And so was the Android. The correlation between her make believe home and her make believe family irked Noodle so much that she felt like vomiting again, which she knew would be more than disgusting since she'd hadn't eaten anything yet. Steadying herself so as to not lose her insides she made her way back into the dingy room, ignoring the smell of rotted flesh that was rather toxic. 'I survived 6 years in hell…what's a little stench going to do to me?' Shrugging it off with an air of true nonchalance Noodle sat down in the corner furthest away from the pile of junk sitting in the middle of the room. Her vomit stain from the previous night was still there though it had dried up and crusted over on the carpeting. She gagged at the thought of the night before, excluding her sweet interlude with 2D. How she wished she could see him again despite the fact that she'd slammed the door in his face. It seemed like that was how all things went for her these days: loving things and hating them at the same time. It seemed like a relatively normal occurrence, a normal mindset; with the exception that it was excessive for her in all cases and situations. Another sigh threatened to leave her but she quickly stifled it as she assessed, in her solitary silence, the current dilemma which she'd caused for herself.

She couldn't very well run up to 2D and say sorry. She was far too angry, hurt and annoyed to do that. She couldn't just pretend nothing had transpired between them in that instant because that would be denying herself the hope that he might feel…something for her. 'Something…how vague.' She highly doubted that his actions were the result of needing an easy lay; 2D wasn't the same person he was all those years ago. She suspected he'd never been interested in "easy lays" as Murdoc had put it. She had heard about his past girlfriend, Paula Cracker, and how Murdoc had ruined that relationship, amongst numerous others, for her friend. But she seriously did not think that 2D, for as simple as he was, wanted to just screw girls and groupies brains out for the hell of it. She also wasn't sure she was in either of those categories in his eyes, or anyone's for that matter. She would prefer to be seen as a woman, not a girl or a groupie. However, she still felt like 2D viewed her as a little sister, as a friend, but not as a woman who he could fall in love with in the future. And yet, at the exact same time she felt this, she also felt that from their interlude it was possible that he might just have felt that "something" towards her that she secretly hoped for. Desperation wasn't quite the word for it because she wasn't desperate, not in the slightest.

Touching her hands to her lips, Noodle pondered what it could be. Not a need, not a want, not out of desperation—none of these were the reasons she hoped for it so badly. 'I love him so much…I don't think my heart can survive without him.' She knew this did not mean that she would suddenly die if he didn't return the feelings she held for him as she'd, coincidentally, spent 6 or more years without him. What it did mean, for her, was that without him around in the future, now that she'd gotten some part of him returned, her soul, her heart, her being would be utterly broken. She needed him to be there, to be her friend in the end if all else failed. And right now she did not feel that connection with him as she had before. If there was one thing she wanted out of desperation it was their connection, his smile and her reply in one place. She wanted his happiness to return, his voice to soar, and his goofy grin to be authentic. She wanted him to be complete again. She wanted it so badly that, as she sat there in the lonely room, she would find the person who had broken his heart and return said person to him. If it would make him smile Noodle decided she would take that pain in stride. Whoever had hurt him this bad would have to pay but she would, first and foremost, make sure that his smile was once again bright, bold and real. If she lived through almost 7 years of Hell she figured she could live through the pain of him being with someone else as long as he looked at her as his old self again. She'd give anything to see that dopey but contented look on his face, if just for one more moment.

"This is getting me absolutely nowhere." Deciding that she'd done more than enough moping to last her a whole other month Noodle stood and made her way towards the outside of Plastic Beach. When she passed through the lift she noticed that the dingy entrance floor had been cleaned of debris but was still generously decorated with graffiti and profanity as far as the eye could see. The rusted red flooring made her scrunch her nose as she glanced about in disinterest that stemmed, mostly, from a lack of appreciation for the usual garbage that had always inhabited their home. In Kong it was common to see this: bags of trash, random collections of junk and various other useless objects littering the floor. Therefore she was not surprised when she'd returned to Plastic Beach and seen the same type of living style. After 7 years, amazingly, some things did not change at all. 'Things may not…but People sure do, don't they?' This thought made her think back to a foggy set of lyrics she couldn't quite recall. Yet they circled her mind like water circling a drain, swirling but not completely clear since they were in constant motion. She vaguely recalled them recording a song with that title a long time ago even if she didn't quite remember the words themselves. Shaking it off, Noodle made her way to the door that led to the outside area of her home. She didn't want to go into the lighthouse today, or relax on the deck with its convenient umbrella. She didn't want to hang on the railing of the deck that was directly outside, fly the plane or use the boat. But she did want to get off the island.

'I don't really know what I want to do…other than get away from this place. However…I don't want to fly the plane or paddle anywhere myself…I'm so lazy.' She was too tired and sleep deprived to have any remote interest in rowing herself to shore, or even using the motorboat. Flying required too much concentration and she only wanted to focus her attention on her rabid thoughts. Defeated, Noodle descended the staircase, two steps at a time, down onto the plastic, man-made surface that acted as the sand of their yard. Once there she sat at the very edge of the hard surface, a slight ache on her bottom as a result of the sand being completely false. She stuck her feet in the water, aggravation bubbling at the brim of her temper even as the cool liquid attempted to soothe her. It felt like no matter what she did there was no end to the animosity coursing through her, no end to the bitter tormented images that occupied her mind day in and day out. The only things that calmed it, that made it disappear for moments at a time, were 2D's soft, empty words. To her this was strange since the words were so hollow; it was, by no means, a permanent solution either. The fact that it was so temporary and ephemeral in nature caused her greater anxiety that she had predicted. Frustration built up within her little by little until it would blow up, usually in 2D's face. It made Noodle dislike herself. 'Then there's…it…her…the girl…'

The Android. It was a great source of relief, irritation, jealousy, stifled acrimony, violent rage and sweet solitude for her. She hadn't fathomed that this thing, this machine, could ever become the vessel for such difficult and dark harbored thoughts. She wished she hated it more, that she could make it disappear or that she could kill it. Yet none of that was possible, she knew, because it wasn't real. It was artificial like her home. It looked like her even if it didn't necessarily act like her, which played a huge part in why she was easy to replace. Murdoc needed her guitarist skills duplicated, not her personality or soul. The Android provided the very skills necessary to further promote the Gorillaz even if they were incomplete because they were missing 2 people. While the outside world might have been indifferent to the fact that Android Noodle was not the real Noodle, she herself was more than upset about it. To her it was a slap in the face in regards to her significance as a part of the group and worse yet, as a part of her adopted family. Murdoc may not have given this much thought but she did every excruciating second of each day she spent planning an escape from the very bowels of Hell. Often times, to ease the depression, she would picture how happy Murdoc would be sitting with Satan and having the most exhilarating of chats about Satanism and what not. As of the late this did not, however, have the same happy effect as it should have to her off kilter psyche. Every inch of her being screamed out for her to punish him and teach him a lesson for what he'd done to her. It was his arrangement gone wrong that placed her in Hell to start with, of all things. If he hadn't unleashed the black skinned demon boy, made a jerk of a deal with Damon and Jamie, she'd still be the happy go lucky teenager, eventually turned woman.

Sniffling, Noodle refocused her attention on the android and its artificial manufactured body that was so much sturdier than hers was should something happen to it. The bullet hole glaring at her was a constant reminder of how it was immortal, with or without a soul. It didn't seem to matter that this man made thing had no heart or genuine personality. To the fans and even to Murdoc it seemed that this thing could replace her with relative ease, which only made the ache in her heart worsen. Compounded with the ache already weighing heavily on her in regards to 2D, Noodle felt like one more thing might make her collapse mentally and physically. Emotionally, she already knew she was unstable; therefore, if anything was added to that then she knew she'd have a pretty bad breakdown. Yet nothing was helping ease the feelings in her heart. She wanted to be better for herself and for the band, whether Murdoc remained an asshole or not. That was irrelevant. Although she knew the band wouldn't be making an album anytime soon she did know that they would, eventually. No one could afford to be as torn as they were at the present. Now that she thought about it, she'd barely even talked to Russel since her return. She'd purposefully avoided their fearless leader but she had no real reason to avoid their resident drummer; he'd always been good to her. She figured that had she had siblings, and known about them, she would've liked them to be like Russel. The drummer's story, she'd heard, involved Murdoc, a kidnapping and shipment over to Britain. How Russel managed to stay and not return to his original home she didn't understand, nor did she bother to ask him. He appeared mostly content with where he was. And she enjoyed his company, though perhaps not as much as 2D's. Nevertheless, Russel was a genuinely happy person, the only guilt ever eating at him cornered around his deceased friends, which she was sure weighed on him through the years. The façade he wore to hide this held up rather well. It wasn't as though he'd never spoken of it to anyone—he'd opened up about it during their interview for their famous book, "Rise of the Ogre." Yet Russel seemed the saddest when Del left, or disappeared.

Noodle let that thought go as she kicked at the ink black water where her submerged feet began to feel a little cold due to the water temperature. Dwelling on Russel's possible sorrows was probably not the best of ideas, even if it did take away from hers for a given amount of time. Her mind wandered to the Android for the 3rd time in a ten minutes time span and Noodle grunted in annoyance at her obsession. 'Demented…yes. Obsessed…yes. Fascinated…definitely not.' Her musings were brought to an abrupt halt when she heard heavy footfalls approaching. Craning her neck to the side, she nodded as the large shadow of Russel towered over her.

"Ohayo, Russel-san."

"Baby girl…talk to me."

"I guess cutting the bullshit is your specialty, right?"

He took a seat next to her. "Baby girl…what's goin on? You used ta talk to me all the time."

"Used to is right," she said without the faintest hint of sarcasm or disdain. Where she'd normally felt the urge to gush to 2D and Russel there was only indifference and dull interest. She felt bad for the response she'd given her father/brother figure; but she felt so empty she didn't know what to say. She couldn't tell him she was in love with their vocalist or Russel might flatten him into the plastic ground. She already knew that he was aware of how much she hated Murdoc at the present moment. What else was there to say? Speaking about the Android was an off-limits topic because that would surely arouse an interrogation and total invasion of privacy. Not that she saw the point in such a concept when she'd had none for the last 7 years. Sighing, she kicked her foot in the water. "Russel-san…there is nothing to say. I'm sad, and this place is foreign to me in every way possible. That's all."

He matched her sigh with his own. "That ain't what's botherin ya."

"I'll be okay, I promise," she replied as she pulled her feet from the water and made to stand up. Russel made no move to follow her, choosing to stare out at the horizon instead. "Russel-san?" He nodded to her. "What was…Del like, in real life?"

The question caught the drummer off guard and he didn't answer, though not because of surprise. Noodle had met Del before, back before they'd filmed their 19-2000 video. But she hadn't really asked him about the ghost before this. Struggling to stay on the topic of her and not his past, Russel shook his head. "Don't try an' change the subject."

"Russ…I promise I will talk to you…but not right now," she said, her mind not ready to discuss the images that wanted to rush back and pledge to become her undoing. She knew that she was going to need to tell them what was going on but she preferred to say it once, and only once, in front of all of them. Even Murdoc. Though, still, she would rather he go experience it for himself. Shuddering, she gave Russel a weak, uncertain smile that he accepted though they both knew everything was far from over. "Russel-san…did you…still want to get lunch?"

Smiling, he gave her thumbs up. "Come on, I'll pilot."

Sometime later found Noodle with a belly full of sushi and Miso, her hand rubbing her full stomach contentedly as she and Russel watched old videos on MTV. Murdoc had gone outside to drink himself silly, which neither had objected to; 2D had yet to surface from wherever he was hiding. Noodle found she wasn't so inclined to seek him out or to even look at him, for that matter. The television set blared a song by the band named "Flyleaf" as Noodle took a sip of her Japanese soda pop. She had always enjoyed trying to get the ball out of the top once it'd been popped down into the liquid. She'd also never managed to retrieve it. Giggling at this she turned to Russel and slapped him playfully on the shoulder. He grinned back and they began to reminisce on their many pseudo-games involving game controllers and them being characters for Murdoc and 2D to utilize. She was laughing so hard her sides hurt when they heard footsteps coming towards them. Both looked back in time to see 2D emerge from the dark shadows, his eyes downcast and body language demonstrating despair. Although her heart went out to him, her body screaming to comfort him, Noodle turned her attention back to the TV just as the song ended and "Korn" came on. Russel was talking to the singer but she paid no attention to him, the incident from the morning replaying in her head to cause constant disappointment. Without warning she stood and began to walk towards the lift. Russel blinked at her retreating figure.

"Baby girl…?"

"I had a lot of fun today, Russel-san. I fear, though, that I need some rest." Without another word she stepped into the doors of the lift.

Neither 2D nor Russel knew what to say in response as they heard the whine of the lift before it descended. It was 2D's turn to blink, scratch his head and turn his attention to the African America man. "Russ…wot's wit 'er?"

Russel just shot him a dirty look before returning his attention to the TV. 2D couldn't figure out why everyone was so angry with him, especially Noodle. Didn't he do everything she wanted? 'Well…come ta fink of it, I don' e'en know wot that' girl wants.' Shrugging, he went back to his search of something to eat inside their refrigerator. Meanwhile, downstairs in the lower reaches of their rotting, cesspool of a home stood Noodle at the forefront of the Engineer Room. She could hear the hum of Android Noodle's life support. She was right above the cupboard and had the intense urge to descend the staircase, turn the corner and enter the brick red, double doors that held the machine captive. 'Wait…captive? That damn thing isn't even real,' she told herself as she took small steps towards her destination. But this time instead of entering the doors she simply opened them as wide as they could go and stared. She stared at the Android as it sat there, mouth slightly open, lips dripping and looking positively stupid. The wires were continuously pumping oil into it, giving it some form of life that she deemed pointless and unnecessary. 'I'm back…why is he still keeping it?' As she sat there looking at it she began to feel eerie. The more she stared, the longer she stayed there, the more the urge to rip it free of its confinement ran through her every cell. And before she could stop herself Noodle had leapt into action, her hands wrapping themselves around the chords and ripping them from their sockets. Each hole spurted oil at her in angry, desperate protest as she discarded them on the floor next to the machine. Suddenly she felt it making its way up her throat, like willful bile; a laugh burst forth from her lips. Noodle tried to suppress it but found she could not as fresh tears sprang to her eyes, trailing down her cheeks as she reach for the android and shook it.

"What the fuck makes you so special? What makes you better than me? What the hell makes you…what makes you?" She screamed at the lifeless Cyborg in her grasp, the tears still flowing as she collapsed on the floor, the Android in her arms. She wept, her body shaking with the sheer energy pouring forth from her slender, wasted frame. The machine felt heavy atop her, its full weight crushing her as she sobbed into its hair, the synthetic, silky locks becoming matted and slick. "Why can't I…why can't I get 2D to feel? Why can't I stop doing this with you?"

The android gave no reply and Noodle sobbed harder, clutching the machine like a lifeline as she held it close. However, moments later she had thrown it to the floor, rage filling her as she stared at its silent form lying haphazardly on the floor. Its hair was askew; arms bent awkwardly, eyes staring straight ahead without any consideration for her turmoil. Letting out a feral shout, Noodle's feet kicked its midsection, its legs, and its face. She brought her foot down on its arms in hopes to mar it in some way, to mess up the paint, to create a blemish like all the ones she saw on her own olive skin. Nothing worked—not a single scratch was given to her. The rage consumed her and before she knew it she had began to rip at its hair with her hands. She slashed through its clothing as best as she could, trying to make it look like a creature and not like her former self. By the end of her tirade she managed practically nothing, coming out of her one-sided fight with a few strands of artificial hair and a piece of its military inspired outfit. Her knuckle wounds had reopened, blood seeping through the bandages and staining her white t-shirt. Her nails were broken and brittle from so much tearing at its clothes, her feet aching from kicking it so violently. Worst of all, she'd barely come away with any success of her original goal. Instead, like it had before, the Android had won. Its perfect appearance remained, more or less, intact. She, on the other hand, looked worse for the wear. Internally, she felt exhausted and drained.

She didn't know how long she'd been there with it, abusing it and trying to, essentially, kill it. But at the end all she knew was she was dragging it into the lift towards, then, to the nearest bathroom. She said nothing as she walked by 2D and Russel—both whose mouths were hanging open as she passed—entered the bathroom and slammed the door, locking it. Inside the bathroom Noodle stared at her hands, noting the fresh scars on her olive skin, cuts and gashes as deep as the memories that plagued her. Then she saw the Android's hands, flawless and blemish free. Though they were metal, they looked soft and perfect. They were the complete opposite of hers at the present. The rage that had consumed her moments ago threatened to return as she focused on its untouched skin—everything she used to be. And she felt like a monster, ugly and foreign in her own body. Now, in front of the mirror, the Android next to her, Noodle could see every cut with a clarity she'd previously been missing. Staring at her broken reflection made the tears spring back to her eyelids, fresh and heartbroken as she observed herself. Every minute detail felt like a stab to her continuously crumbling self-esteem, a mockery of bitter truths she wished she could erase.

Her torn eyelid looked relatively minuscule most of the time but she could see how prominent it really was. The scar across her cheek was faint but still slightly visible in the dim, flickering yellow light. Her hair was limp and scraggly though the purple was still lush and luminous. Taking a glance at her hands and arms, Noodle pursed her lips at the ever fading burn marks and cuts that served as a testament to her days spent in hell. Shuddering, she closed her eyes to block out the, more or less, pristine image of Cyborg Noodle sitting silently on the toilet's lid. It said nothing, as usual, with a completely blank expression on its face, lips slightly parted in dumbfounded silence. She realized, in that split second, she hated it more than anything. 'But I need it…and I hate that I do.' Sighing to herself, she reached for the Android, hoisting it over her shoulders and making her way out of the bathroom. 2D and Russel were still there, both still gaping at her as she walked past them back to the lift. She ignored them as she made her way towards her room in search of the box she'd taken from 2D's room in his absence. Inside the solitude of her room Noodle began to do the unthinkable. She stripped the machine of all its military clothing, throwing each article into the rubbish pile in the middle of the room. It was more than a little irksome when she observed the 14 year old body Murdoc had blessed it with; it felt almost perverted to know that this is what she looked like and he had SEEN it. Biting back the urge to vomit right then and there, Noodle returned to her task at hand. With careful precision and the utmost twisted care she slid on the knee highs, the shirt, the coat, the jacket, the skirt and lastly, the duck hat. She was applying the blue eye-shadow to its eyes when she felt a sudden sense of déjà vu over take her. Stepping back, one hand flew to cover her heart while the other flew to cover her mouth.

It was her; her that everyone supposedly missed but no longer existed. Wearing the clothes she found, the Android looked the spitting image of the young girl Noodle had left behind shortly following the shooting of El Manana. As it sat there, quietly, she felt the horror build up and her last shred of hope drain. It was so simple. If Murdoc really wanted her phased out this was all he had to really do. A simple dress change would make it almost everything the old Noodle was. Personality differences would cease to matter as long as it could play guitar as well as she could. The fact that it had to constantly charge when it wasn't performing seemed a small price to pay for all the stress free positives it offered. None of the fans seemed to be affected by the fact that the machine looked so young, not caring that it was clear she hadn't aged over the years. The band wouldn't have to pay any extra expenses for it other than a generous supply of machine oil and electricity. If it was this simple she didn't see the point in trying to make peace with her band mates. The Cyborg had truly replaced her. Tearing her eyes away, Noodle held her face in her hands as the tears burned for release, pushing to fall over the brims of her tired eyes. All she could see was 2D moving on without her, his back to her. Her heart felt like it'd been incinerated, burned, stabbed with a dagger that was twisted to make its point.

'I can't do this anymore…' Feeling the despair taking over, Noodle fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around the machine. 'But…I think you may be all I have left to getting somewhere.' Knowing that she probably looked like she was losing her mind—she knew she kind of was—Noodle felt that in order to gain some semblance of who she used to be, such a feat would require something of the Android, though she wasn't sure what just yet. She hadn't counted on it being so important, especially when she despised everything about it. But she had found that since it didn't talk, it didn't judge when she did. Part of her knew it wasn't listening to a thing she said but the other part of her was content to pretend that it was. She was teetering dangerously on the edge of the fence between reality and insanity, neither of which she particularly cared for much these days. Her tie to the replacement had taken a strange masochistic turn and she knew it. The fact that she was so aware of all that was transpiring between her and the machine made for a sick transmission of feeling whole and feeling interlinked with something that wasn't real. It was her fantasy to look that way once again, to replace her battered self with the image of perfection and innocence everyone adored. She strived for it.

Gathering the Android in her arms once more, Noodle returned it to its haven in "Noodle's Cupboard" with the utmost carefulness, taking special care in placing it in a comfortable position. She waited silently for the lift, fatigue gripping her when the doors opened to reveal 2D gaping at her in concern. She gave him a half blank stare before she was pulled, rather unceremoniously she thought, into the elevator. She could only stare at 2D questionably when he did not press any buttons for the lift to go up or down and the doors remained open. Instead he just looked at her, fractured eyes unreadable. She felt her eyes getting heavier as they stood there in the silence, not really sure what his intentions were but so tired she didn't care. After a few moments passed with nothing said Noodle finally rubbed her eyes and coughed.

"2D-san…what is the meaning of this? I'm tired. I'd like to sleep now."

"Not until yew tell me wot's goin on wit yew an' tha' machine," he answered heatedly.

Though she abhorred the machine, she still couldn't bring herself to detest it the way everyone else had. Sighing, she placed a hand to her head as her headache grew; Noodle hardly ever had headaches. "2D-san…she's not a machine. Please…can't we discuss this later? I promise I'm not running. I'm just…very tired."

When she made to press a button to direct the lift somewhere, anywhere, his hand shot out and blocked her. Any other time she would have yelled at him. Instead, all she did was sigh and lean back against the lift wall. Moments later her eyes slid closed and she began dozing off, their conversation forgotten as exhaustion set in so heavily she could barely stand. Seconds later her legs gave way and she pitched forward, 2D barely managing to catch her. He began to panic as he realized that she wasn't just sleeping but was, indeed, fully unconscious, her head lolling to the side sloppily as he held her. His medication-addled brain searched for a viable option as he glanced around her filthy room, eyes narrowing to slits as his attention refocused on the Android. He could only gape at it in horror and sick fascination as he took note of everything it was wearing, its head hanging on its left shoulder while it was propped up against the wall. His mind only had one response once he'd spotted it. 'Wot tha fook is goin' on 'ere?' Not wasting another minute he jammed his finger on the lift, counting the milliseconds it took for it to climb up to the floor where Russel was surely still seated on the couch watching TV. When it stopped he practically kicked the door down, shocking the hell out of Russel who, though shaken, only gave him a blank stare. 2D placed Noodle's limp form on the couch before turning his gaze to meet the drummer's worried one.

"Russ…"

"What happened to her, D?"

The blue haired vocalist shook his head. "Um…Russ…'ere somefink yew need ta see."

The drummer shook his head. "First, tell me what's goin on wit Baby girl!"

2D grabbed his head as the other man's shouts echoed in his ears. "Fook man…I'm tryin ta—

Both were surprised when Murdoc burst in, stumbling, his tequila bottle sloshing amber liquid all over the floor as he made his way towards them. "Dullard, shut yo face! Me 'ead is poundin cos all yer bitchin! And yew, Lards, betta start showin me some respect!"

2D shot them a withering look, his fractured eyes frustrated, as he beckoned for them to follow. He cast one last glance to make sure Noodle was okay before opening the lift doors. When Murdoc didn't follow immediately, Russel grabbed him, tequila bottle and all, and dragged him with them. They spent a short minute squished rather uncomfortably in the lift before it opened to Noodle's floor. 2D rushed out, Russel and Murdoc in tow though the latter was cussing and protesting like a screaming child throwing a tantrum. But nothing could've prepared them for what they saw. The tall singer stood silently to the side, lighting a cigarette as Russel dropped Murdoc mid tantrum. His jaw fell as he took in the image of the Android. Murdoc, for his part, was still drunkenly trying to stand and make sense of everything that had just occurred when his own hazy gaze landed on the machine. He paused, alcohol bottle forgotten as it crashed to the floor at his feet. His bloodshot, mismatched eyes widened in terror—his blood went cold.

"Wot the…bloody 'ell…?" He suddenly whirled around on 2D, who backed up as the older man jumped at him, shouting. Russel held him away from the singer's fuming form. "Wot the fuck kinda sick joke is this, fuckin face ache?"

"Joke?" 2D looked incredulous though the effect was lost on his bruised, red rimmed eyes and drugged glance. "Wot tha fook yew talkin 'bout Muds? This s'all yo fault, yew know! Don't accuse me of this!"

"Look, s'time to stop playin the blame game. Baby girl, clearly, ain't well. Muds, get rid of dat damn machine, now!"

Murdoc gave him a spiteful look before shaking his head. "The fuck I will. I made tha' machine. It's a piece of work, that is. Fuck yew, Lards."

"Don' yew care 'bout anyfink but yerself, Muds, yew selfish ass'ole?" 2D yelled back as the drummer kept them away from each other. Being the stronger of the 3 had its advantages but 2D was truly wishing he could deck Murdoc like no other. The sallow skinned man made another lunge for the blue haired man, this time successfully breaking free of Russel's grasp before taking 2D down to the floor with him. The two struggled, kicking and punching each other before Murdoc leapt back, howling and clutching his arm where his skin was bubbling. 2D glowered at him, cigarette smashed but still in hand as a reminder. "Come near me 'gain Muds, an' I'll burn yew, yew sick bast'ad!"

Just as the two men made to fight again, Russel knocked the wind out of them, his massive fists sending them to the floor. He was about to rough house them more in order to calm them when he stopped, frozen in place.

"Please…please stop it…" Murdoc and 2D whirled around, eyes ashamed at their behavior when they saw Noodle standing in the doorway, feather weight frame leaning against it for support. Her eyes were tired, body sagging against the doorframe as she tried to keep herself conscious, which was proving unsuccessful as her head rested on her chest. She brought her eyes to theirs, struggling to speak. "Please…don't fight. I…I just can't take it any...more…"

Her words died on her lips as she collapsed in the pathway. 2D rushed forward despite the ache blooming through his midsection and ribs, gently lifting her into his arms before she could hit the cold, hard floor. He gave Murdoc one last chillingly deathly glare before heading towards the lift. As the doors started to close his eyes narrowed hatefully while he held Noodle. "Next time…yew won't be so lucky, Murdoc, you filthy git. Next time…s'yo eyes."

On the floor by Murdoc's feet sat the cigarette, burning angrily in his face.

TBC

(I suppose the next chapter focus will be Murdoc and Noodle since I barely covered him ANYWHERE in this story, so far. But yes, there have been some deadly exchanges between 2D and Murdoc—or there will be, lol. Oh, don't you love Russel? I love him so much! Oh…must go, time to write chapter 7! Thank you to all who R & R'd. You are the best in the world! ^.^)