Dents

[+] Last Living Souls

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

The distorted murmur of a radio trickled into 2D's room from the hole I had put in the wall.

It sounded like NPR, or some other confusing news broadcast network where none of the stories ended before the next began. I never much cared for the news. I always found it to be unbearably repetitive, even ominous, at times.

Russel hadn't struck me as the type who'd be interested in all that ludicrous chatter, but sometimes people do things that aren't expected of them.

I didn't expect this.

"Put it down," I said.

I was attuned to the sickening lemon stench in the air. It was pungent.

"Put it down and tell me why, please."

"I... I fought yew would be a while longa."

I nonchalantly took the pistol from his hand and set it out of reach on the windowsill beside his painkillers. I sat down next to him on the bed.

2D's dark eyes swallowed the light around us. I felt suffocated in his swirling obsidian pools, and the chilly hardwood floor beneath me, and the talk show host next door babbling cryptic nonsense through the hole in the wall.

"'M sorry. I am."

I took his hand in mine. The shame weighing on his weakened shoulders must have felt heavier to him than the silence between us. I was abnormally conscious of the blood streaming through my body, and of the consistent unmatched thudding of our hearts.

"Why did you want me to find you?"

He looked hurt by the question.

"I - I didn't. I wasn't goin' to do anyfink. Et was jus'... An option."

"An option?"

2D flinched. I realized my tone may have been too harsh. I bit down on my tongue.

"I've been fallin' fo' a long time, Saoirse. Fings weren't always 'is bad. Yew came into everyfink so late. I wish yew'd gotten 'ere soona."

He curled in on himself. He looked small and helpless.

"I'm here now."

"I... I know. Et's a stupid fing to fink about, I know et. I guess I jus' wasn't ready to let go ov the idea," he hiccupped, "Fo' a while et was the only plan I 'ad."

I had been to dark places. I understood the dire need to escape from an agony so palpable that it seemed it would never end.

Yet, selfishly, I felt hurt. I did not want to lose him.

I could not lose him.

He reached for the green notebook. He passed it to me.

"I didn't want yew to have nothin' from me, 'side from a buncha soddin' knick knacks."

On the very first page inside the notebook was a freshly burned CD. At the top, in 2D's barely legible handwriting, were the words 'the Fall.'

I stifled a cough. The nauseating lemon smell tangled with the pen's ink.

He retrieved an old CD player covered in doodles and a set of earbuds from the bedside table.

Obeying his desire, I played the CD in its entirety.

"It's extraordinary, 2D. But I don't want a memory of you. I want you."

2D's eyes glistened with tears. I could see that his resolve was weak. He had no intention of abandoning me without so much as a goodbye, I knew that. He was just afraid - afraid of the future, the past, and everything. Perhaps the thought had provided him some comfort when he could not seek it anywhere else.

"I owe yew so much, Saoirse," he swallowed, "Yew've 'elped me frough more than wha' yew could know."

"I know, 2D. It's okay. It's the same for me."

I wrapped my arm around him. He buried his head in my chest. Strands of his vibrant blue hair brushed against my collarbone with his every breath. His spine shuddered as he regained control over his wind and the turmoil swimming through his mind. I slipped my hand beneath his shirt, tracing wide circles into his back.

"I... I feel sort ov daft fo' still ruminatin' on et like 'at. I don't want to leave yew. Et was a stupid fing to be stuck on."

"It's alright. Listen, I'm here for you. I need you, too. We can get through anything if we're together, right?"

"Yew're righ'."

The beginnings of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Et sounds kind ov silly, yew know, bu' really, the fing I'm most scared ov now is losin' yew."

"How so?"

"Murdoc 'as a way of ruinin' every relationship I eva had. I... I can't have 'at happen 'is time. I can't."

I waited. He answered the question I was too apprehensive to ask.

"There was anotha' girl. She played guitar fo' a bit, before Noodle showed up. She was real nice to me. Eventually we were an item, 'n I've been around, bu' she was different."

It occurred to me that 2D had never spoken of any past relationships before. I never questioned it. It seemed like a taboo topic, as if the audacity of full disclosure was equal to the opening of Pandora's box.

He hashed it all out hastily, rushing to get it off his chest, out of his head, and into the open air.

He told me about how happy they were and of how he dreamt of a future with her. It was a little uncomfortable for me, someone completely inexperienced with a healthy relationship for the whole of my adult life. He continued.

"Paula was my first shot at bein' a real person, ov livin' a normal life. I wanted to be treated as mo' than a bloody stage prop. She did 'at fo' me when no one else would. 'N then Murdoc came 'round and stole 'er away. We could neva get fings back to how et used to be, afta 'at. I fink et jus' neva sat righ' wifth me."

He stopped unexpectedly. I leaned closer to him, hanging on his words.

"Russel caught 'im wifth er in the studio bafthroom."

His murmurs birthed a disgusting scene in my mind. I shook my head over and over, trying to expel the thought. Shards of the notion, and what had been implied, lingered.

"I'm sorry, 'D. I didn't know."

"S'okay. I didn't tell yew."

"I'm not Paula. You know that, right?"

He forced a tired smile. It lasted for hardly a moment before returning to his listless, empty stare. He had always put on a face for my sake. I wished he didn't feel the need to do that, even though I knew he merely wanted to spare me of worry.

"I'm scared, Saoirse. He's gotten to be a lot nastier than 'e was. 'N stakes are a lot higha now than they were then."

"What do you mean?"

He looked at me as if I had suddenly spoken in an unfamiliar language. His nervous tremoring subsided. He sat still, watching me, concerned.

Then, as if by a law of nature or a fact irrefutable by any amount of evidence, he spoke.

"I didn't luv her. But I luv yew mo' than I eva luved anyfink."