Dents

[+] All Alone

I stared vacantly into the lukewarm mug of coffee before me. It swirled lazily, having recently been stirred. Black grounds clung to the surface and the edges of the cup. I had to sip at it with my teeth clenched to avoid swallowing them.

"Thanks for breakfast, 'D."

2D sat on the other side of the table from me, flipping aimlessly through some odd publication covering the topic of whether or not whales were sentient, and if they were, whether it would still be ethical for them to be forced into indentured employment.

If you're curious, according to their research, no. It wasn't ethical at all.

"Yew don't hafta fank me, luv. I know et's rubbish."

He tossed the magazine on top of a pile of others that had slowly accumulated over the course of Murdoc's absence. He ran a hand through his hair. Leaning over the table, he studied me, as if he were looking for a reason not to believe me.

"It's perfect. Really," I insisted.

I was being honest, after all.

I relished that yet another day over the span of months had passed where 2D's breakfast sucked tremendously. It was proof that he was who I thought he was. It also served as clear evidence that he had never been possessed to begin with. The reality of that was both a horror and a comfort. I had come to accept it. I rationalized it, even.

But on occasion, when I woke up alone in bed and his side of the sheets were cold, I imagined a flawless plate of eggs and toast gathering dust on the table. The thought turned my stomach.

We decorated the townhouse a couple of evenings ago in preparation for the upcoming holiday. I hadn't expected any of us to actually bother with it, but Noodle took the initiative and eventually got us all together to complete our share of the load.

It didn't look great. I thought we hadn't done a half bad job. Noodle was evidently disheartened with the results.

The light strings along the roof hung crooked. A few of them had broken on account of 2D's clumsiness. The tree, which I had been responsible for, was thin and scraggly. There were a dozen ornaments of varying sizes and origins weighing on the stick-like branches. You could easily see the base of the tree through the haze of pine needles and garland. Russel and Ace hung lights along the cobweb coated ceilings on the interior of the house, which was probably the only aspect of the decorating that didn't look completely half-assed.

The day we'd been preparing for had come upon us faster than I imagined it would.

Christmas was tomorrow.

I'd been thinking about a present for 2D for some time now. I had finally decided on a fitting gift.

Back at Plastic Beach, 2D lent me a wooden inlaid harmonica with a custom inscription. It was a gift from someone else. He was quite attached to it. Unfortunately, it became totally waterlogged during our escape. After that, I'd made it a habit of keeping it in my pocket, intending to get it restored to a working state one day.

It was in my sweatpants on the day we fled through the window in Hong Kong. Unbeknownst to 2D, I held onto it ever since.

I took it to several instrument repair shops nearby. None of them were confident enough in their abilities to attempt to restore the instrument. One particularly determined gentleman held onto it for about a week before he called and advised me that there was nothing further he could do to salvage it.

I'd just about given up when the last store within walking distance called me up and said they could do it, but it wouldn't be cheap. I found it odd that they were the ones to contact me. I was so elated at the news that I didn't question it.