Perfect, Plastic, Prison - 10

Murdoc had come back into the room soon after 2D had woken up.

The singer was sitting-- as  usual-- against the headboard of his bed, humming to himself and mulling over whatever it was Murdoc had gotten him into. He turned his head when he heard the wheel of the door creak and spin, and managed a half-hearted grin when he heard familiar footsteps cross into the room.

"H-Hey, Muds."

The other made a sound of acknowledgement and sat on the mattress next to 2D. He could feel the weight dip, and resisted the urge to scoot away a little. "Had a nice nap?' he quipped, his tone teasing.  2D paused. What did Murdoc mean by that?

"Shuddit." the vocalist decided to snap back. "Had a bad dream. Those pills messed me up summfink awful."

He wasn't sure if it could be classified as a bad dream, though. It certainly wasn't good. But it felt more like a drug trip than any sort of dream.

"Maybe yew shouldn't've taken so many."

"Shuddit, Muds."

"Make me, 'D."

The exchange was so automatic that 2D was taken aback for a moment, unsure of what to say. Punching Murdoc seemed like a good idea, except that he couldn't SEE, and his arms still felt heavy and sore. 2D wondered if it would ever fully go away.  His stomach made an odd gurgling noise, and Murdoc laughed, the previous conversation quickly forgotten.

  "Hungry?" he asked, though he knew the answer. 2D pouted and nodded, as the other stood from the bed.

Some faint rustling, a whispered curse from Murdoc, and the mattress dipped again. Murdoc felt closer this time. Almost right next to him.

"I got food fer ya. Open up."

Immediately he felt wary, and tilted his head to the side. "Wot kinda food? Issit poisoned? Am I gunna get sick?" 2D asked quickly. The bassist scoffed at him.

"Don't be so suspicious. Wouldn't do me no good to poison ya, you're already useless enough as it is. 'Sides, I don't think you're in much of a position to be picky, do you?"

2D grimaced. "I-I could feed meself, ya know."

"Not without bein' able to see, you can't. Can you even move yer fingers?" he asked with a laugh. The singer attempted to, and his fingers ached when he did even though it worked. He frowned in the other's direction. "Yeah, thought so. So shut it, m'actually being nice fer once." Murdoc snapped. After that, 2D nodded with a resigned sigh, feeling the weight of the bed shift again. There was a pause. Something was pressed to his lips-- he twitched automatically but parted them anyways, biting down and pulling what ever it was away quickly so Murdoc would move his hand. He recognized the taste immediately as part of an orange, and smiled.

He ate the slices he was fed in semi-silence, refusing to say anything of how embarassing he felt it was. Murdoc scoffed every once in awhile when he winced or missed a bit, but that was it. 2D knew the whole thing was awkward, but this was.... TENSE, too. He didn't like it.

At the last slice, the tips of the bassist's fingers brushed his lower lip when he pulled back, slowly. 2D swallowed nervously and swayed back from it a little, almost afraid. The touch didn't seem accidental.

There was a pause, but Murdoc drew his hand away and didn't say anything, so the singer let himself relax a bit.

He hated worrying over every little thing the man did.

It was irritating. It made him anxious.

"Are you still hungry, face-ache?" the bassist said after a moment, voice quieter then before. 2D thought about it for a second, and although he knew he should eat something more, he didn't think he had the stomach for it right then. He shook his head, hearing Murdoc make a sound of acknowledgement.

Another hated period of awkward silence passed, longer then the last few ones, and 2D hummed absentmindedly. His head turned at every sound he heard in the corners of the room, reminding him of his loss of sight, and it was starting to drive him insane. He never thought about how much he appreciated being able to see until he couldn't do it anymore. Irony in a sense, really.

He probably needed professional medical attention, anyways.
Flashes of what had happened suddenly came rushing back. What he considered to be his second 'day' stuck under this godforsaken, plastic whatever-it-was that Murdoc had imprisoned him in.  The grating of the wheeled lock on the door. The man's insults and ranting.  His footsteps across the room. 2D winced as the memory of Murdoc's fist flying towards his face surfaced in his mind.

...And the wrench.

2D couldn't remember a time he had been more scared. It almost made him glad he couldn't see anymore-- he could avoid looking at whatever wounds the thing had caused. Murdoc really could have killed him. Did he know that?

Thinking back on all of it seemed to make the lingering pain stronger. He craved to be able to see again. He couldn't even really remember what the room he was in looked like.
"Hey, Muhdoc?" he whispered after a pause, turning his head in what he assumed was the other man's direction. Murdoc didn't laugh or anything, so he guessed he was right.

"Yeah?"

The vocalist bit his lower lip, which made his jaw a bit sore. "Uh... Uhm... I was wonderin' if.... if yew would have any idea when my eyes'll heal up. Not seein', it.... well, it's sorta driving me crazy..." he trailed off. Murdoc snorted, and it sent a flare of panic in his brain, so he continued quickly. "A-An' hey! M'not saying that I'll do it, really, but if ya WANT me ta sing, how can I if I can't read the lyrics or music?"

Murdoc seemed to pause after that.

Typical.

"That's.... a good point, actually." he said slowly. 2D was surprised at this. He felt the other lean in-- 2D assumed he was assessing the damage done to his eyes. Murdoc chuckled , making him frown. "The left is worse than the right, but both're pretty swollen. I'd say give the right a few days and ya might be able to open it. Can't say about the left one. I dunno if I'd be able to do much 'sides give you ice and check up on it. It's not swollen enough to bleed out, not worth it."

His heart sank. Not like 2D would want to get his eye cut, anyways.

"We could pull a Rocky and slice yer eyelid, if ya want, too--"

"--Murdoc, you bastard! No!"

The bassist was laughing without abandon now, and the singer winced when the man clapped a hand to his knee over the blanket. "I was joking, face-ache! Your eyes are already fucked enough, don't you think?"

There was a bit of humor to the last part of it, and 2D tried to hold back the small grin that broke through at the truth of it. "... Y-Yeah, I guess so... but, hey! Wait a sec! Everyfink that's happened to my eyes has been yer fault! Especially recently!"

Murdoc laughed again, a little less enthusiastic though, and for some reason--- 2D couldn't even comprehend why-- HE felt guilty for bringing it up. He couldn't see the other, but Murdoc's silence seemed to tell him he was almost.... offended?

Why in God's name was 2D the one who felt guilty for bringing it up? It was true.

He tried to shake the feeling from his head, and was about to say something else, when the weight of the other on the bed shifted. Murdoc stood up.

"M-Muds?"

There was a pause before the man spoke again. "I gotta go, luv. Sorry I can't stick around right now. I got alot of work to get done."

The blue-haired vocalist grimaced. "Oh, really? Wot kinda work do ya gotta do, huh? Ya can't make an album until I start singin'! I bet yer just gonna go off and get drunk and laugh yer ass off at how miserable I finally am."

A furious growl left Murdoc's throat, and 2D froze, afraid he was going to be struck-- luckily he was wrong, but the sound of something crashing and breaking was heard against the wall across the room. He guessed Murdoc had grabbed something from the floor or table and threw it. He jumped when whatever it was shattered.

"STOP yer fuckin' WHINING, 2D! I'm SORRY that I had to hurt you, okay?! I wouldn't have had to do it if you had just bloody LISTENED! So don't you DARE complain to me when you had EVERYTHING in yer power to stop it!!" came the almost shrill response. 2D shrunk back when he felt the other's presence closer, hovering over him from where the singer sat on the bed.

He could've sworn he was going to get hit again, and he tried to curl up to protect himself as best he could in the brief seconds there were, but for some reason, the blow never came. Murdoc seemed to pause, and back away a bit.  2D held his breath for a moment. Hesitantly, slowly, he uncurled himself, lifting his head, trying to sense anything of what Murdoc was going to do.

The satanist sighed.

"Look. I DO have alot of work. I've been trying to get in contact with some other artists that I think would be great to collab with for some songs. I'm bustin' my ass just trying to keep HIDDEN while doing it too, not ta mention I'm plannin' on trying to start telling people that we've got somethin' in the making. And face-ache, I don't really CARE if ya wanna do it or not right now. Yer always like this. You'll give in and change yer mind, and we'll make another smash album like always."

2D cursed under his breath and was about to interrupt him, but Murdoc saw that and kept going.

"--- I'm not givin' you a CHOICE. Hell, even I don't have a choice this time. This one's gonna be big, 'D. I know it is. I can feel it. It's not gonna be our usual drugged-up jams."

The other began to walk away (2D could hear the footsteps, and feel the air change). "Wait, Murdoc!" he called after him. "Wot're ya talking about? Different? How'dya mean? Because we don't got Noodle or Russel? Bigger? I dunno wot ye--"

"I have to GO, I said!" Murdoc shouted from across the room. He heard the rusty metal creaking of the large wheel-lock on the door as it was opened. Apparently, the bassist paused before actually leaving. "....Even I don't know everythin' about this album yet, 'D." he said, much softer than before-- 2D had to strain to hear. "I'm just doing what I have to. Don't make this harder than it already is."

The door creaked again, 2D heard the lock spin, and jumped when the door slammed shut again. Faintly he heard the inner locks turn again, and Murdoc's footsteps fade away.

He was so confused. His eyes hurt. His head hurt. His MIND hurt.

What was Murdoc talking about? Why was this album such a big deal? It seemed Murdoc was just doing whatever he felt like, as always, but with the way the man was talking.... it almost scared 2D. Murdoc could be very dark, he knew this, but it was rare for him to act so.... serious about something, especially so suddenly.

2D wished he was comfortable with chalking it up to another one of the satanist's mood swings. But something didn't feel right about that.

He sighed, bringing his sore legs back up to his chest, and leaning his head against the wall of the headboard behind him. Until Murdoc came back, he had nothing to do but sit.

This was going to drive him insane, he already knew it.