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"Niccals, you have a visitor," The prison guard yelled into Murdoc's cell.
"'Right, give me a minute," Murdoc remarked, before pushing himself out of his bed. He walked over to the door of his cell, where he met the guard. He followed him out of the cell, down the hall, and into the visiting room. To Murdoc's surprise, the person sitting on the other side was 2D.
Murdoc took his seat on the prisoner side of the phone booth, looking up to meet 2D's gaze through the glass. 2D lifted up the phone from his side of the divider, so Murdoc reached out and picked up his.
"Whatcha doin' here Dents?" Murdoc asked playfully. "Thought you and your massive ego wanted nothing to do with me."
2D swallowed, tilting his head. Murdoc could only assume that he was thinking carefully about what he was going to say next, which was pretty rare for the singer to do.
"Well," Stuart started. "I wanted to see how you were holding up."
"Really? You didn't come to spit in my face and tell me about how well you're doing without me?" Murdoc chuckled.
"I…" 2D broke eye contact with Murdoc, turning his head to the side. "I've thought about it."
"Ha!" Murdoc guffawed. "There's the 'new 2D' that I heard all about—"
"But," Stuart continued. "I've had some time to think. I wasn't really enjoying being the 'new version' of myself."
Murdoc hummed while he crossed his arms and leaned back, the phone still being positioned by his ear between his jaw and shoulder.
"Alright…" Murdoc said. "How's the album been going?"
"Ah— well, actually, we released it!" 2D said, his voice and mannerisms gaining some of the old whimsy he had previously lost during his egotistical period.
"Oh, really?" Murdoc said, leaning back in attentively. "Do you think I could get a listen?"
"Sure!— Uh— I'll come by tomorrow with a vinyl," Stuart said.
"Thanks, Stu," Murdoc said, not realizing how… nice he had started acting during the conversation. He was starting to feel uncomfortable. How was Stuart being so… nice to him? Especially with all that he's done to him. If someone who had been as shitty to him as he had been to Stuart, he would've been glad to see their sorry ass dumped in prison. He would've never even spoken to them again, let alone have a friendly conversation with him.
Why did Stuart care?
"Y'know… I've really missed you, Murdoc," 2D said, looking up at Murdoc with those damn doe-like eyes.
Murdoc froze, before spiraling into a deeper uncomfortability and panic.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Pot."
He abruptly stood up and slammed the phone back into the holder, and sped walk out of the room.
It had been lights out for hours now. Murdoc hadn't slept at all, though. He had been staring at the dark corner of the room, involuntarily shaking. The moonlight pouring into the dark, cold, and damp, stone cell he was in was familiar. Eerily familiar. The room would occasionally morph into the room of the lighthouse where he would record his broadcasts for Pirate Radio. He swore he could hear the lapping waves and the calls of the seagulls flying overhead. He could smell the synthetic plastic and the sea salt carried on the breeze; he could smell the stale rum that hung in the damp air. Above all, he could hear the meek and exhausted cries of the blue-haired singer. They were relentless; they rang throughout the room and echoed throughout his skull all through the night. He shook violently, covering his ears and closing his eyes, but he could still hear his voice. The dark was suffocating; it was closing in. This had been happening for weeks now, but it didn't ever get any better.
He almost choked on his own breath when he opened his eyes and saw the luminescent blue hair and gaping black eyes. The tall, uncanny, slender man stood unmoving in the corner, staring at Murdoc. Murdoc exhaled shakily as the man fell to his knees, letting out yelps and cries. He could hear him screaming in pain and recoiling from hits from someone that wasn't there.
Sometime after the noises began, he could hear faint slurred insults and remarks coming from a bodiless voice. He knew they were coming from him, though. An echo of him from a long time ago.
He kept his hands over his ears in an attempt to block out 2D's whimpering, until he heard a different noise. He heard the delicate and strained singing of Stuart, who sounded broken and exhausted. His cries became mixed with his pained singing. Each note was a blow to Murdoc's chest, drawing Murdoc closer to full on weeping.
He so desperately wanted to reach out and assure and comfort the singer, but he wouldn't know how to even if he could.
He eventually fell asleep at some point, listening to the echo of 2D his mind had conjured up repeatedly sing the vocals of Broken.
"Niccals, you have a visitor."
Murdoc didn't make a move to get out of bed this time. He stared blankly at the ceiling.
"I don't want to see him."
"He has something for you," the guard responded. "Do you want me to just bring it back to you?"
"Sure," Murdoc replied, unmoving.
A few minutes later, the guard returned. Murdoc finally stood up and grabbed the vinyl from the guard.
Murdoc loved the cyan blue they had chosen for the background, as his favorite colors were blue-green ones. It contrasted perfectly with the magenta silhouette they had placed behind the warped outline of 2D on the cover, who looked melancholic with his face downcast and his guitar held fervently. He looked… beautiful.
He set it on the small table next to his bed. He would listen to it later.
Most of the prisoners were getting ready for lights out, but Murdoc had made his way to the rec room. Thankfully, nobody was in there. He took the portable record player back to his cell, before closing and locking the door. He set it on the small table, plugging it into the single outlet in the wall.
He turned and grabbed the vinyl off of his bed, running his hands over the illustration of 2D one more time, before taking sleeve out. Something dropped when he did. A note.
From 2D. For Murdoc.
He didn't open the note, yet, though. He set it aside. He pulled the record out of the sleeve and set it to play.
He sat down, listening to each song intently. The first few songs had seemed pretty upbeat in contrast to the album's cover. Kansas, though, seemed pretty upsetting.
He turned the record over after it had finished playing Side A, and began to read the letter.
Dear Mudz,
We all really miss you, y'know. Especially me. Not to sound mean or whatever because Noodle and Russ miss you too. We're all your family so I guess that makes sense. Actually I don't know if that makes sense. Sorry, I'm not good at writing letters and stuff. I'm better at putting my feelings into music. I hope you can understand what I'm trying to say through the music.
From,
Stuart
Murdoc set the note down. Again, he was questioning why Stuart cared so much. Why any of the band members cared at all. He didn't understand why they loved him, or why they missed him. He would be glad if he could be rid of himself, so why weren't they?
The songs gradually became more sad and depressing as he got near the end. Just like 2D had said in the letter, he was communicating how lonely and heartbroken he had been. Murdoc understood how he felt, because it's… exactly how he feels.
A slower track had started playing. Murdoc checked the track list. This one was called Fire Flies.
If you see me floating too many times / My face will be painted in these white brick lines
He could almost imagine 2D's face staring at him from the other side of the room, etched in the brick.
'Cause all my fears invaded / All the crazies put on buses and send up here to find you / Living on the limits
Murdoc swallowed, before briefly closing his eyes. He opened his tired eyes to the same hallucination of 2D he had been seeing for the past few weeks.
And if you say goodbye too many times / The sentinels will find me and switch me off this time
"Leave me alone," he mumbled, voice unintentionally breaking.
'Cause all my fear's evaded / All the crazies put on buses sent up here to find you / Living on the limits
Murdoc blinked a few times, realizing his eyes were becoming hot with tears.
If all of you ever get from the sonnet is the count of the fallen man / Every call and cost made to your heart / You were in the kind of game that put the force in me / I was ever chasing fireflies
Murdoc shuddered, then hugged himself.
Sometimes I follow a firefly / It takes me into the night / Baby, I just survive / I got drunk, I'm sorry / Am I losing you? / Sometimes I follow a firefly / It takes me into the night / Baby, I just survive / I got drunk, I'm sorry / Am I losing you?
Murdoc buried his head into his arms. The echo of 2D still watching on from the other side of the room.
If all of you ever get from the sonnet is the count of the fallen man / Every call and cost made to your heart / You were in the kind of game that put the force in me / I was ever chasing fireflies
Murdoc tried to stifle a sob, but eventually broke down and wept. He didn't understand how to love people. He didn't understand how to accept being loved by others. He knew he loved 2D, but he didn't know how to. Murdoc Niccals was broken, and in turn broke the person he loved. Why did 2D still love him back?
As he wept, the body of someone not really there wrapped their arms around him in an embrace.