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"Noodle? What are you doing up at this hour, love?"
Not that Murdoc wasn't a fan of the old late night wander but the girl was only young and as reckless as he might have been with his own health, he tried to keep her as okay as he could.
Noodle didn't respond; she was hovering in the doorway with a nervous look on her face. It was rare to see Noodle nervous or anxious. Being raised in a Japanese military program will give you a kind of confidence that most can only hope to achieve, as far as Murdoc can tell. He knew that something was bothering her and he put down his drink on the floor beside him.
He patted the empty spot on his other side, (he wasn't sure when he'd ended up on the floor but it was sometime between drinks), and hesitantly, Noodle stepped over the piles of bottles and glasses. She sat cross-legged beside him, her eyes fixed on the floor in front of her. For whatever reason, Noodle didn't seem to be able to look him in the eye. That was okay. They could just sit here quietly until she figured out what she wanted to say. A bit of quiet never did anybody any harm.
"You said you were going to stop drinking so much." Noodle said, eventually. She nudged one of the wine bottles, ("if you get drunk alone on beer, it's pathetic, but if you get drunk alone on wine, it's classy" Murdoc had said just earlier that day), with the toe of her boot. Why she was wearing boots over her pyjamas, he could only wonder.
Murdoc chuckled, wearily. "Don't you worry about it, Noods. Uncle Murdy'll be just fine."
He could have sworn that she rolled her eyes at that but she seemed to settle. This was a familiar situation for them, he supposed. When she was younger, she'd spent a great deal of her time bothering him when he was drunk. The others, (pricks as they were), had always refused to remove her because they liked seeing him annoyed. At least Noodle wasn't too bad. Studying her now, she looked so much older than she did back then. She wasn't the little girl in the FedEx box anymore, that was for sure.
"Why don't you tell me what's bothering you and then we'll tuck you into bed? It's past your bedtime."
Noodle laughed, not unkindly. "Murdoc, I'm twenty-five."
"Suppose you are." He ruffled her hair, "Grew up so fast, you did. Just a shame that I got to miss most of it because I wasn't around. Have I ever said sorry for the whole El Mañana incident?"
She nodded. "Every time you're this drunk."
They sat quietly for a while after that. Noodle was probably thinking something over because she had that expression on where her face scrunched up as she concentrated. Honestly, Murdoc was just staring at the back of the sofa and wondered why he was cowering behind it instead of sitting on it. He couldn't remember. But he could hear the TV playing out obnoxiously cheery ads in front of it and wished he'd remembered to turn it off. The TV felt louder than it probably was. He was distracted, didn't even notice a hand resting on top of his.
Noodle took his hand and squeezed it to get his attention, her slim fingers knotting around his old and knobbly ones. A stark contrast, he realised when he looked down, and he realised just how much time had passed since Noodle was young. The last time he'd seen her prior to her returning to Japan had been when she was about fifteen or sixteen. He'd still been able to give her piggyback rides around the studio. He couldn't imagine being able to do something like that now, at least not without injuring himself. Satan, he was getting old.
He was drifting. She squeezed his hand again. "Murdoc, don't fall asleep."
"I'm not, love. I promise." He forced his eyes open, "Are you ready to talk now?"
Noodle nodded, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "There's something that... I've been waiting to talk about for a long time. And I wanted to tell you first. So here it is..." He waited, holding his breath, "Murdoc, I'm... Well, at least, I think... I'm gay."
Admittedly, those words hit him like a freight train at first. He wouldn't have suspected in a million years that.... And then, he really thought about it. He thought about the little tomboy girl that he'd raised, a ten year old girl that had easily become just one of the boys. A teenager that had been completely uninterested in tearing pictures of boys out of magazines. Noodle mentioning once, without bringing up a name, that she'd had her first kiss during her first trip to Japan. Refusing to say anymore about it. And Murdoc didn't like to stereotype if he could help it but Noodle was a fierce feminist and her fixation on powerful females was a little... Well, they'd joked about her maybe being a lesbian in the past.
But here she was... Here they were... And she'd chosen to tell him first. She looked tense, anxious, and that wasn't a usual look for her. But underneath it, there was an insane relief that he recognised on her face. A look of "I've done the right thing". And without a word, he turned and wrapped his arms around her.
"Are you mad?" Noodle asked, her voice muffled against his shoulder.
Murdoc chuckled again. "I'm not mad. That means no bringing grungy boys home. And I'll be able to give you some tips for picking up broads in bars, eh?"
She let out a relieved laugh that turned almost into sobs instantly. And he understood, he really did. Coming to terms with the fact that he was bisexual was probably one of the hardest things that Murdoc had ever done, especially after how he'd heard his father talk about "those people". He could still remember the relief mixed with fear he'd felt the first time that he'd kissed a guy way back in the 80s. The feeling of freedom and the hard reality that things couldn't be that easy... Things weren't going to be like that for Noodle. Things would be different.
When he finally realised her from the hug, Noodle was crying and she didn't seem to be able to stop. Noodle didn't cry. He wasn't sure he'd seen her cry since she was ten years old or younger, even when she'd fallen over and scraped her knees. Even when she'd returned after years away from them, she hadn't cried. But now, fat tears were rolling down her cheeks as she did her best to wipe them away before they could form. She rubbed her nose on her sleeve, snottily, and let out another noise like a laugh.
"Come on, sweetheart." That was a word he only reserved for when she was most troubled and he rubbed her back soothingly in a effort to stop her crying, "There's no need to get upset. You know, you've got people to support you here; and if anybody says anything to you or the tabloids are ridiculous about it, me and Russel will mess them up, yeah?"
Noodle didn't stop crying right away but it didn't take her long. Eventually, she settled down into just quiet sobs muffled into her hands until she finally stopped altogether, rubbing her face on her sleeve. There was a small smile on her face, he noticed, though a wobbly one.
"Let's get you to bed, eh? We can talk more about this in the morning." He got up, stumbled, and would have fallen if she hadn't leapt up and caught him by the elbow, "Dentface might be take a bit of explaining to but I'm sure he'll catch on in the end."
The stairs were tricky to navigate in his drunken state- he nearly toppled over- but he did make it to the top without incident. He slung an arm around Noodle, mostly to show her that he still loved her but partially to stop himself from stumbling around too much. Her room was at the end of the hallway, a bright door with several posters of Japanese metal bands stuck up on it and her name printed in her careful handwriting. There was also a sign that warned boys to keep out, which apparently she'd got in case he decided to film another MTV cribs episode and tried to come into her room again.
Inside the room itself, there wasn't much. He'd saved as much of her stuff as he possibly could from Kong Studios- he had some hazy memories of grabbing things blindly and stuffing them in boxes before he torched the place- but it wasn't enough to fill her room. She also had several mementos from the time she had spent hunting a demon in Japan. Katsu, her beloved cat, was curled up by the radiator with a content look on its stupid face. Murdoc was not that cat's biggest fan, he had to admit. He swore it tried to trip him up on purpose.
"Stop glaring at him." Noodle chastised, as she climbed into her bed with her pyjamas still tucked into her boots and pulled the covers up to her chin, "You're so mean to that poor cat."
Katsu opened one eye just to scowl at him. Murdoc pulled a face at it and turned his back, sitting on the edge of Noodle's bed. He smoothed out her covers, unsure of what to say. He didn't think he'd tucked her into bed like this since she'd come back. Vaguely, he remembered telling her bedtime stories that he'd stolen from magazines about rock stars and enhanced slightly. He wasn't sure that would cut it anymore. Instead, he just patted her lightly on the head and went to get up. Before he could, Noodle's hand caught around his wrist.
And suddenly, he did see in her the same child that he used to comfort through nightmares. So, he sat back down with a grunt and when she made him promise not to leave, he said he wouldn't. He wasn't even lying.
"Can you tell me about what it was like? When you were young?" Noodle pleaded.
She'd always loved to hear stories about what he referred to as the good old days. When rock stars were rock stars and drugs were easy to get and if you could play a bass guitar, you might as well be a celebrity. She loved to hear about when he was young, causing chaos on the streets of England and almost never getting caught by the police. Rubbing her temples, he searched through murky memories for a story that he hadn't told her before or one that he could tell again.
"Alright." Murdoc decided, finally, "Let me tell you about some of the clubs I went to. You'd have loved them. In the 80s, there were places that nobody was allowed to talk about where broads could pick up broads easy. I had some of my best nights there. The drugs helped."
Noodle's eyes lit up. "You used to go to gay clubs, Murdoc?"
"What else was a bisexual man to do in those days?" He must be really drunk, he thought at the moment, to be telling her any of this, "There weren't many places to go and your Uncle Murdoc wanted to, heh, experiment. They were wonderful places, Noods. Real safe spaces. You could get beaten near death if the wrong person caught you leaving but other than that, it was great."
Like always, the world just seemed to fall away from him when he talked about the old days. He told her about the nights that he'd spent in hot, sweaty places where the men wore more make-up than the women and tucking a handkerchief into your pocket could help you get some action. He talked about the hazy memories he had locked away of kisses he couldn't tell anybody about and how the movement for freedom had been well under way, how they'd already been fighting. Noodle listened, clearly enthralled despite how sleepy she was getting.
Murdoc tried to put into words just how freeing it was back then to be among people that weren't so different from you. How terrifying the outside world had seemed but how slipping into a room of queer people had made that all go away, for a while at least. Things had seemed so different amongst flashing lights and crowds of people. He didn't tell her much about how difficult it had been to keep these things hidden from people that wouldn't get it. The gang, his dad and brother, people that he knew would turn their heads from him on the street. He didn't talk about no matter how many damns he claimed not to give, he was still pretty scared back then. Things weren't like that now. Besides, Noodle was probably smart enough to fill in the blanks.
"There had been pride marches in London since the 70s." Murdoc told her, "You know, I never thought in a million years that I'd be able to go to something like that. But sure enough, in the 80s, there I was... They still have those marches today, you know."
Noodle sat up, eager. "You'll take me, right?"
"Maybe. We'll see how drunk I am when the time rolls around." Murdoc laughed, throatily, "Now, lie down and let me finish your bedtime story."
He talked about Pride, about how it had been like nothing he'd ever experienced before. How he really hadn't given a damn about anybody seeing him there and how surreal that had felt. Of course, in the 90s, he'd stopped going to things like that so much. By the time he'd run Dents over, those days had been memories instead of recent events. But it was nice to remember. And it was nice to see Noodle smiling as she closed her eyes and rolled onto her side, looking content as she fell asleep. Murdoc stopped talking to breathe and realised that she'd dropped off into sleep entirely. She looked so peaceful when she slept.
He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead gently, careful not to wake her up.
And even though she couldn't hear, he mumbled it anyway. "I'm so proud of you. You did a brave thing today."
He could have sworn that her smile spread further across her face but maybe he just imagined it. Murdoc slunk out of the room, flicking the light off and closing the door quietly behind him. He ran a hand through his hair, dishevelling it, and headed off in the direction of the kitchen for more booze. He hadn't even made it halfway down the stairs when he ran directly into another member of this band- what, was it Annoy Murdoc Night and nobody thought to inform him of it? He had to grab the banister to stop himself from plummeting face first down the staircase. Russel Hobbs, lard arse he was, didn't even flinch at Murdoc barrelling into him.
"What are you doing up?" Murdoc demanded.
Russel frowned. "Worried that I overheard you and Noodle? Don't worry, I didn't listen. I'm not one to pry on other people's conversations."
"Good." He was relieved that the idiot hadn't stopped to listen.
Murdoc squeezed past him on the stairs but before he could walk away, Russel cleared his throat to get his attention. Murdoc turned back to him.
"I think it's sweet that you care so much about her." Russel said.
"Whatever." Murdoc rolled his eyes and continued on his way.