He's standing by the door when Russel shows up; Noodle greets him happily, topping her boxes on the growing stacks 2D created. They grouped down to the kitchen, drinks in mind, the sun setting low casting the space in a golden hue, and 2D can't remember when he last saw the place so empty looking.
The drummer tossed him a beer, Noodle's already in hand, toasting when he cracks it open in a unanimous cheer. They don't chat much, just bit, on the movers coming in the morning and Muds returning from his final party.
Noodle bid them goodnight, her unfinished drink in her grasp, steps quick and quiet, leaving the two men alone in the growing dusk.
Having nothing else to say, 2D downs the rest of his drink, Russ' already chucked in the trash, standing, knuckles cracking when he stretches, a yawn escaping. He claps 2D on the shoulder, a muted smile taking over his features at the sight on the singers tensing shoulders.
"Relax, 'D. Relax."
The drummer pats him once more as if it were an affirmation, disappearing with a whistle, leisure cloaking the big man.
2D sets his can in the overflowing bin, fingers hitting the kitchen switch off, wandering away.
Their last night at Wobble Street is out, beckoning him back to the alcove, blanketing him, his telescope the only link to the mystery, wandering for hours.