A/N: Last chapter, thanks for reading! This is where everything from the previous chapters comes together. Also, it made more sense when I wrote it, back before we found out about El Mierda. Oh well, it's still possible.
Please leave a comment, whether you liked or hated it or have a question or thoughts or anything!
Stuart ran the water cold, as even lukewarm water agitated his wounds. It seemed like forever that he was watching the red water swirl down the drain, hoping the blood from his head, back, shoulder and thighs would run off completely. But as the water slowly diluted to lighter shades of red, he was stuck in the shower with his own dark thoughts.
Stuck. Trapped. Again. Stuart knew what it was like to be trapped. In his own comatose body, in a deep-sea prison, in a whale, and now it was clear that iron bars had been erected around his mind and soul.
When the water ran clear, Stu stood in the shower, shivering. He intended to get out and talk to Russel outside the bathroom door, but that seemed like it was going to be a suddenly insurmountable task. More than he could process right now. Still, he was cold enough to exit the stall and pick up a white, fluffy towel. He carefully patted down his body, splotching the cloth with pink, while sitting on the toilet seat again. Then he reached into the shower to turn off the water, then changed his mind. If Russ was listening, 2D wanted the drummer to think Stu was still washing up. So he let the stream run into the empty stall.
This was the second time he had finished a shower in one day, he noted, but the one from this morning felt so different. He felt different. He was different.
2D reached for his pants, which he had discarded on the floor. He cringed to see that there was blood on the inside of them. He picked them up and folded them inward, hiding the stain. Then, Stu felt something in the jeans' back pocket. He reached in and was surprised to find his mobile phone was still there, along with two business cards.
He flipped through the cards, putting his phone down on the floor, and looking at the therapist's card, the one with the sunset on it. Or was it a sunrise? The sun was over an ocean with pinks and oranges. It reminded him of the sight he had seen when he had busted through the skin of the whale, again wet with blood, although the sky had been whiter then. He ached for that feeling of emergence again, to feel the sun on his face, to breathe freely in the wide air. To leave his captor forever.
He ran his thumb over the print of the therapist's name and website. It hadn't been easy to escape the whale; it was risky and exhausting and terrifying. But he had needed to try, to at least die knowing that he had done what he could. On the other hand, there were times when there really was nothing he could have done to escape confinement, and he had just needed to accept it, like when he was in the coma. Every day he had wished for just some control, any chance to change his fate.
What situation was he in now? What could he do? He pondered the notion and stared forward at the misty mirror in front of the toilet. He stood up and used the towel to wipe the steam away, and gasped to see the state he was in. Stu sat back down and turned to the next business card.
The one with the truck on it. From the guy with the fez at the bar. Who had said he could "do something" about the bassist.
To escape the whale, Stu had needed to risk hurting both himself and his captor. He had to take the plunge. He had to let the desperation run through his veins and take the wheel, adrenaline pulling him through. He turned over the card to see nothing but a mobile number. He would never forget the moment he made this choice. Stuart picked up his phone from the floor. He carefully opened his messaging app and typed in the number from the card. He typed out three short lines.
hey. its 2d from the club last night.
what do u want 2 kno about murdoc?
whatever u need i can help u. im in.
He held the phone in both hands as he stared at the messages.
Then he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and pressed "send."
He closed the phone and held it between his knees. He found he was cold and shaking, and looked forward again to see himself in the mirror.
Stu smiled at his reflection.
You can be happy, 2D thought to himself.
If you choose to be.