Dents

[+] California and the Slipping of the Sun

((This chapter contains mature content and potentially triggering material. Reader discretion is advised.))

After the exorcism, 2D was unconscious for several hours.

I was horribly worried that he hadn't woken up for so long. I was calling Father Merrin excessively to ask if it was normal. He assured me repeatedly that it was and begged me to stop calling.

Seeing my distress, Noodle beckoned me to her room and filled me up with saké and positive thoughts. We played video games until late in the evening. Even though she decimated me, she sang praises of my improvement which made all of my practice feel worthwhile.

When I eventually returned to 2D's room to brush my teeth and go to bed, he was still sleeping soundly where I'd left him. I crawled beneath the comforter beside him and fell asleep.

I woke up to the gentle rapping of knuckles on the wooden door to 2D's room.

"Saoirse-san. 2D. Breakfast," Noodle's quiet voice echoed from the hall.

"We'll be down in a minute."

I gently nudged 2D to see if he was awake. He didn't react at all, which kind of freaked me out, so I ended up pushing him harder than I meant to the second time. He rolled onto his back. His mouth hung agape, a shiny trail of drool leaking out from the corner of his lips which were otherwise dry and chapped. One of his eyes was partly open. It twitched periodically.

I was half asleep, which was the only excuse available to me for what I did next.

When I saw him like that, I instinctively thought that he was dead or something and leapt on top of him, shaking him vigorously by the shoulders. I yelled for him to wake up. The springs of the mattress howled beneath us.

"Wha'?! Wha's goin' on? Is 'ere a fire?!"

2D shot up unexpectedly and swiftly headbutted me, knocking himself straight back into the pillow and sending out a poof of fluffy downy feathers from a hole torn in the side. His hair was a mess of tangled knots. He sucked on the edge of his bottom lip anxiously.

I heaved a sigh of relief and slumped over him, resting my palms on the headboard for support.

"No," I giggled, "No, there's no fire. You just freaked me out a little."

"Sssorry, luv," he slurred, releasing a tired yawn, "If there's no fire, could we go back to sleep now?"

I leaned down to kiss his cheek. He turned his head so that I kissed him on the lips instead. His hands moved up to my waist. He held me softly, as if I were as fragile as porcelain. His touch made me feel secure. I kissed him again until he left me gasping for air.

"Everyone is waiting for us downstairs, 'D."

"Don't care, 'at's fine," he replied candidly. I laughed.

"I care. We can go back to bed after. Let's have breakfast. You haven't eaten for like, a whole day, I think."

"'Ave yew eaten anyfink?"

I looked away, feeling embarrassed. The truth was that I hadn't. I couldn't even remember the contents of my last meal. I was too preoccupied to scarf anything down, and when I eventually did have the chance I was too depressed to bother. Now that 2D had recovered, my appetite returned with a furious vengeance. My stomach growled noisily. It completely gave me away.

"Alrigh'," he smirked, "Le's 'ave some breakfast, then."

I stumbled out of the bed and tripped over a tangled pile of sheets and laundry, narrowly avoiding chipping a tooth on the bedframe on the way down. 2D asked if I was okay. I groaned in the affirmative. I dragged myself out of the heap and over to the dresser where a few articles of my clothes were stacked neatly on top.

In drastic contrast, 2D had to place a foot on that same dresser in order to stop it from tipping over while he repeatedly tugged a worn shirt free from the twisted mess of sleeves and socks spilling out. When he had at last gotten it loose, the seam near the shoulder of the arm had come undone. It crossed my mind to mend it, but considering the state of the shirt, it didn't have much longevity left to it anyway.

I hastily began changing my clothes, slipping off the shorts I wore to bed and putting on a pair of jeans. When I took off the stained tank top I was wearing, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and recoiled at my reflection. I looked hollow and sullen. I desperately needed a shower. My eyes lingered down to my hip bone, where a dark violet-green bruise formed around a small red cut. 2D seemed to notice it as well. Neither of us wanted to acknowledge it.

We were ready to move on.

In great contrast to my otherwise disheveled appearance, there was a bright spark in my eye that I hadn't seen in years.

After we'd gotten ourselves sorted out, 2D offered to brush my hair. I accepted. He sat down on the edge of the mattress. Despite how light he was, the springs sunk underneath his weight. I kneeled down between his legs. I sat patiently with my eyes to the floor so that he could work through the knots.

His touch was loving and compassionate. He was mindful not to tug or force his way through the task, instead opting to handle it with focus and patience. Once he finished, he took my hand in his and lead me downstairs.

"About damn time you lot turned up, eh? How long were you supposin' we'd pussyfoot around for ya?"

Murdoc scowled from his seat at the table, flicking the brown bag in front of him hard enough for it to make an annoying snapping sound. Noodle was seated beside him with one knee propped up on the seat of her chair, tapping away rapidly on a pink PSP covered in glittery stickers. Ace sat opposite of her and slurped a trough sized serving of a blue slushie through a candy straw. Russel waved to us, putting three more grease stained bags on the table. They landed with a soggy wet plop.

"Hey guys. Breakfast."

Considering that Murdoc had come back, and that Ace wasn't due to leave until next week, we didn't have enough chairs for everyone. 2D sat down next to Noodle. Ace quickly attempted to get up and excuse himself. 2D latched on to me and pulled me onto his lap before Ace could offer his seat to me. Everyone was apparently satisfied with the arrangement. Russel began sorting through the greasy sacks of fast food in front of us and distributing it around the table.

We ate an assortment of breakfast sandwiches and hash browns, sipping at cheap coffee and cola. We conversed about the new album, and the neighbors that moved out across the street, and other benign things that I hadn't been able to concern myself with in the days prior. It was a wonderful meal regardless of its sliminess. I was relieved to see that the cloud of turmoil that haunted us before had lifted at last.

Murdoc spilled his soda across the table, sending ice cubes sliding all over the place. Noodle scolded him and tossed a roll of paper towels at his head. It bounced off and landed in the puddle of sticky pop dribbling onto the floor. To all of our stunned amazement, Murdoc proceeded to actually clean it up.

I felt like clapping. I resisted the urge on the chance that it might insult him. I would curse myself to never see it happen again.

We'd gotten through the remainder of the food. Noodle and I gathered up the papers and bags and tossed them in the waste bin. Ace retrieved a withered cardboard box of playing cards from his breast pocket and suggested we play a hand. He explained the rules for California lowball poker, and then we set off to it.

Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, Murdoc won every single hand.

An hour or so passed. After a dozen humiliating losses, 2D spoke up.

"I been finkin'," he said, addressing the entire band at once, "Weatha's supposta be good tomorrow. Le's put togetha a music video."