Chapter 18

(Murdoc's POV)

We didn't talk about it. He knew that I didn't like that level of emotion, so we didn't speak of it. We wouldn't forgot what had happened, but I wasn't ready to confront it. Not yet.

I had been so caught up in the mindless drama that I had almost forgotten that today was Thursday. The plane's drop off day. I had even called the flyer a few days before to order specifics, medication, drugs, cigs... anything and everything I could have needed. And a small heater.

When I waited outside for the packages to crash, 2D stood by the door. My previous episode must have humanized me a bit, because he wasn't as scared to check in on me. Or maybe he was more scared for me now than ever, and felt the need to keep an eye on me. Either way, I'm not alone as often...

There was no place for the plane to land, so I wasn't surprised when crates started crashing to the 'sand'. 2D must have jumped ten feet in the air though, because when the first one landed, he yelped. Words were crudely spray painted onto the sides of the boxes, like 'kitchen/food', 'meds/drugs', 'basement'... And Stuart seemed to perk up a bit at the sight of that, because, even in the beginning, I hadn't gotten anything for the basement. And digging through all the protective bubble wrap and packing nuts, it was amazing how his eyes went wide at something as simple as a space heater. He hadn't said a word, but he did let himself smile, which was considered rare now a days, on this island.

For the first time in a long time, I actually had help putting away the supplies. Though he may have only helped to get his meds sooner. It was nice, considering I couldn't lift anything heavy with my bandaged arm.

Speaking of the arm, I had asked for better tools as well. Under all the bottles and boxes of cigarettes and drugs, was a cleaner welder, and a metal file. Along with some more safety precautions, like gloves, darkened mask, coolants... whatever I could think of that I thought I needed, I ordered it.

And I set it in the living space by the couch we're I had been working. Where everything still sat, and every little peice of metal still laid in either the carpeting or on the tile floor if the kitchen. There were just pieces and parts scattered everywhere. And the blood on the carpet that I haven't bothered to clean from the few nights before.

And I did as best I could tell get back to work. I had been finishing the metal skeletal structure before I had gotten hurt, and thought about starting off where I had ended. I didn't have tried strength for that though. Instead, I had started work on something smaller and less time consuming. So one by one, I placed and stick welded each tooth into frame on the jaw, trying to make them as straight as possible. Trying to make them look as human as possible. A small jaw on a delicate face with seemingly random wires and connective joints coming out of every direction possible that could be programmed later.

I had already put in hidden weaponry in every possible place I could hide it. Even if it looked human I wanted it to be functional!

To my surprise, 2D had actually came back after a while. Sitting on the couch behind me, and keeping me company while I worked. He brought a ukulele up from somewhere in the basement, tuning it and strumming the chords he hasn't played in so long. At least listening to the sounds of someone re learning an in instrument was better than having him sulking in that too cold a room.

Besides, he was probably bored.

Now that I'm looking at the metal face again I'm thinking that I should order something that resembles skin. Latex or silicone or something. Something smooth and pale and perfect like hers. The teeth turned out more crooked than expected, but it gave the face a little character. Besides, it was close enough.

Stuart finally got that thing tooned but the time I had reset the jaw in place, and my sweet Satan, was he beautiful. The voice of a god if I'd ever heard one. That cool liquid gold, slipping through my fingers once again, but this time I wasn't trying to hold it. I wasn't the one to force him to sing like I had been for the past, however, many months.

It was nothing but mumbles and humming, but I could tell what song it was. I had written it after all.

Broken~

Our love is...

Hearing his voice like this was both relieving and heartbreaking. And it hurt even more when our eyes met again, and he realized I had stopped working for the day. I'd start up again on my project before next week, but I had to get silicone for it...

He looked at me, trying to move his jaw like he was going to speak, but couldn't find the words. I don't know if sitting next to him on the couch helped or made it worse, but he avoided my eyes before he tried to talk again.

"I think we should talk... about last night..."

I didn't want to, "What about it?" I asked, damn well knowing the answer.

He struggled to find his words again, afraid I might lash out if he said the wrong thing.

"What was that all about?"

This conversation is over, "Don't worry about it," I don't want to go through this again.

"But I do worry about it! I'm scared that you might have a relapse on drug abuse," who says I haven't, "Or, or, try ta kill yourself again," who says I haven't tried already...

"That's not gonna happen," not while you're here.

"But what if it does," it will, "You can't keep pretending your above emotions! You're still mortal, you're still human, no matter how you picture yourself! Not all of your emotions have to be lust and anger, and I know they're not!"

Instinct, instinct, I swear, when I tried to swing at him. Tried. He caught my hand around the wrist before I could bruise his shoulder. "I remember how you cried when you found out Noodle died." Another swing, and another catch with the other hand. "I know how you screamed when Russell left us." I didn't even try to pull out if his grip. I probably could, but I don't. I wanted to see how far he would take this.

"I remember how you called me for weeks on end when I left you too..." I wanted to pull my hands away, but he was persistent on making me stay put to listen to him. He was using all his strength just to get me to sit by him. "You know, I was happy... at my apartment... I would've come to visit you, once things cooled down."

"S-Stop," I tried, a hiccup in my voice.

"Why did you take me away from that... why the hell would you bring me here!?"

"So they wouldn't get to you first..."

"Who?" His grip loosened, but I don't pull away. If this is what it took to be closer to him, so be it.

"I sold my soul to the devil... but I never gave it to him. And his men are trying to hunt me down. I've made too many enemies." Why am I still talking. "And I didn't want a single one getting to you..."

I didn't want to look at him. I didn't look at his face.

Every next move he made was slow and calculated. And then I found myself in his arms again, being held tight against his bony chest. And I just hugged him back.

Too afraid that I'd lose him if I let go.

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Mudz needs hugs. Give him hugs!