Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I found it!”

“Found wh-“

2D stopped dead as he looked over to Murdoc, who was standing in the doorway to the living room. He triumphantly held high a video tape in his hand, a wicked glimmer in his eyes as he stared 2D down.

2D’s blood ran cold.

“NO!”

He made a move to dive for it, but before the motion could really start, he was tackled onto the sofa, both arms pinned gently but firmly behind his back.

“Is that the video you were talking about?” Noodle asked excitedly, while trying to avoid 2D’s flailing legs.

“Fabled lost media.” Murdoc announced, tapping at the tape tantalisingly, “nonexistent online. And believe me, I’ve looked.”

“Russel, smash it!” 2D wailed, quickly realising that all the struggling in the world wouldn’t free him.

“Man, I haven’t even thought about that clip in, god, must be 15 years.” Russel recounted with a touch of sentimentality.

“I’ve never seen it!” Noodle chirped.

“Well, love, your world is about to change.” Murdoc grinned, spinning the tape on his finger like a basketball.

“It’s not even that good!” 2D protested.

“That’s what makes it good, bud.” Russel chuckled.

Noodle shuffled around a couple times to avoid stray feet, “Quit kicking!”

Russel stood from the adjacent sofa and wandered to the pair, “Get his legs girl, I got him.”

2D squeaked in fear, “No no no-“

Noodle rolled to the other side of the sofa to seize 2D’s legs, and barely a millisecond later Russel was sat on 2D’s back, immobilising him completely.

“Crushing-me-“ 2D attempted pitifully.

“Unlikely,” Russel explained, “This is 10% max. Look, I’ll give you 15 for just a second.”

Russel relaxed his legs ever so slightly and 2D yelped in shock.

Murdoc had a jig in his step as he danced over to the VHS player and popped the tape in.

“Hang on, the video player don’t work!” 2D shouted with renewed hope.

“No, it does,” Murdoc admitted, “I just told you that so you wouldn’t buy that Land Before Time box set.”

“So what is it, exactly?” Noodle asked.

“Art.” Said Russel.

“Insanity.” Said Murdoc.

“A nightmare.” Whimpered 2D.

Murdoc pressed play, and for a moment there was only black.

“We all thought this would be a good idea, just so you know!” 2D offered as a desperate disclaimer.

After a quick fade, on the TV were two teenagers with an amusingly large prop spliff.

“Check it out!” Said the first teenager, “Swiped some gnarly drug from my brother’s draws.”

“Forgot he said gnarly.” Russel whispered. Noodle was giggling already.

“Radical, dude!” Replied the second, “But wait, my mom said drugs are for the totally un-tubular.”

“Oh my god, it’s a drug PSA.” Noodle said in an excited hush.

“Pfft,” Scoffed the first teenager, “What does your mom know anyway, other than how to make me sick pancakes? Now lets get to smoking this drug!”

The camera cut, and the teenagers turned to the sound of the door opening, both gasping. The camera cut again, and there stood a younger looking, slightly sheepish 2D.

Murdoc turned to Noodle. “He was supposed to break through the door but he was too puny, so they changed it to him just opening it and walking through.”

“This is the best day of my life.” Was all she could say.

“Hey. Hold on for a bit, kids. Please.” TV 2D said stiffly, with a fair amount of marble-mouth.

The teenagers gasped again, for some reason, “2D from Gorillaz!” They said in synchronicity.

Noodle gasped dramatically, “THE 2D from Gorillaz?”

“In OUR joint rotation?” Murdoc added seamlessly.

“Watch out, kids!” Called Russel, “He has no respect for the law of puff puff pass!”

2D could only groan, with little choice to accept his fate.

TV 2D cleared his throat, “Now I know a bit of grass might seem like a dope time, but keep your head in the clouds too long and it might just stay there!”

The dialogue was choppy, as if it was a dozen different takes stitched together. The camera was cutting unnaturally rapidly back to the teenagers, with 2D slightly out of position each time the camera returned, and one time he was just blatantly reading from a script.

Russel turned to Murdoc, “How many takes did he do again?”

“47.” Murdoc instantly recounted, “Remember, you had to pay out because you were convinced he wouldn’t need more than 30.”

“That’s right, your acting cost me 100 of your Brit money,” Russel chided, applying a touch more weight to 2D for a second as punishment.

“But, 2D?” The second teenager said, “Surely a cool rockstar like you has smoked drugs before.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, mate.” TV 2D said, with more camera cuts, “I never have, and never will.”

All three broke at that, with 2D burying his head into the sofa to try and drown out the guffawing.

“Be honest,” Noodle said as she wiped a tear from her eye, “were you high when you filmed this?”

“Course I was!” 2D shrieked, causing her to burst into laughter once more.

“Best part’s still coming.” Russel murmured with a grin.

“How are we not at the best part yet?” Noodle exclaimed.

“So,” TV 2D said, seemingly glad to be nearly finished, “Next time someone asks if you wanna smoke the-“

The camera cut to the teenagers once again, but this time when it cut back, someone else was standing there, in a blue wig and obviously fake black contact lenses.

“-silly stuff,” the stranger continued, in a not terrible impression of 2D, with far better enunciation, “be like me, 2D from Gorillaz, and say thanks but no thanks, mate!”

“What?” Noodle asked the room, “What happened?”

“They fired him.” Murdoc said quietly, but brimming with glee, “they fired him from his own PSA. He was that shite.”

“Greg, that guy’s name was.” Russel said, “Nice guy, hope he ended up doing alright.”

“Considered taking him home instead.” Murdoc mused.

The logo for abovetheinfluence.co.uk flashed on the screen, and that was that, and the tape faded to black.

“Oh my god.” Noodle exhaled, sounding exhausted. "I can't believe I don't remember that. Where did that air?”

“You think that shit aired anywhere?” Russel laughed, “We got sent the tapes for our approval, but before we could send any word back we heard they weren’t going ahead with it. Who’dve thought, right?”

“Thought I’d found them all…” 2D whispered. “I’ll get me hands on that one, you’ll see! I’ll destroy it!”

“Think I didn’t make about 20 copies in 10 different formats before presenting this? Think this is my first day embarrassing you?” Murdoc skipped to the TV, popped the tape out and turned to them. “What do we reckon, peeps? YouTube? The website? MP4 file free with every album bought?”

“No, please! You can’t!” 2D squealed.

“I like it just being ours.” Noodle said gently, seeing that they were nearing the boundary between mockery and cruelty. 2D had ceased struggling a while back but she continued holding his legs, more for comfort than restraint. “Like our own Christmas special, we watch it every year.”

“Maybe reenact it, even.” Russel suggested innocently.

“I’d love that!” She agreed.

“Well, we know who shouldn’t play 2D.” Murdoc chuckled.

“Sod off!”

Chapter Text

“Have any of you guys seen…”

Noodle trailed off as she entered the living room, caught off-guard by her bandmates faces, casting various levels of disappointment her way. They were standing actively, as if an intense conversation had been taking place prior to her entry.

She looked down at herself, then behind her, not finding anything particularly reprehensible. “Yeah?”

“We gotta talk, girl.” Russel said solemnly.

Noodle’s brain was racking quickly with potential faux pas she could’ve unwittingly committed. It still hadn’t been very long since they’d reunited, so perhaps there was still a level of re-learning them that needed to be undertaken.

“Ok.” She said as neutrally as possible, though couldn’t fight a slight defensive uptake in the second syllable.

Russel looked the most relaxed of the three, though his concerned look always was, hidden with hands in pockets and a slight slouch to not present too aggressive. Murdoc’s face was harder to read, mostly through its movement, as he paced around the living room with his arms folded tightly. Whereas 2D’s arms were behind his back, looking down at the ground, a blue mop curtained over his face.

The only thing that sprang to mind was the half bottle of wine she’d finished the night before. But Russel had definitely told her it was communal.

“What’s happened?” Noodle asked.

“D.” Russel commanded calmly.

Murdoc paused his pacing to stare at Noodle as 2D brought his arms round to in front of him, holding a large, rolled up piece of glossy paper.

“You’ve got some explaining to do, old girl.” Murdoc growled.

2D unfurled the paper and looked at it with a sigh.

Her internal panic meant Noodle almost missed that 2D’s sigh had a light, slightly amused tone to it. Almost.

“What’s this about then?” 2D asked, turning the paper around, and Noodle’s eyes widened as she looked at a familiar picture of a man leaning back in a chair, a charming lopsided smile in the camera’s direction.

Very gradual smiles crept onto the faces of Russel and Murdoc.

“Is that…” Noodle started, taking a step closer to the trio, “…did you take that Elvis poster from my room?”

“And we’re bloody glad he did!” Murdoc said with a shake of the head, “Noodle, do not tell me you’re crushing on that quiffed up ponce of a yank.”

She gasped in horror. Of all the things to be the recipient of an intervention for.

“That is none of your business!” She squawked.

“And you think that would deter us why, exactly?” Murdoc reasoned.

“That poster could mean anything!” She offered in a panicked defence, “Appreciation for artists who came before us? Maybe I’m a fan of the photographer?”

“Who was the photographer?” Russel asked.

“That… you wouldn’t know even if I said. Point is, there is no basis for you to assume it was because of any ridiculous crush.”

Arms still folded, Murdoc bent over slightly to be at eye-level. “Was the poster level or cocked?”

“What?”

“On the wall.” He interrogated quietly. “Was it level. Or cocked?”

“Answer the man.” Russel instructed.

“I… what has that got to-“

“It was pretty cocked.” 2D cut in.

She rounded on 2D, who was holding the poster up as a makeshift shield, “You are such a grass! This is the thanks I get for letting you use my room to get to the roof?”

“Well what’d ya expect?” He called from behind it.

“Why now, when it’s been up for a month?”

“Wait, really? I only just saw it today.”

“It was next to the window you crawl through!”

“You mean you subjected poor innocent 2D to your sick desires?” Murdoc spat, though his face was oozing with joy.

Russel placed two fingers to his temple, thinking deeply. “I’m trying not to judge, baby, I really am, but… I need to know why. Was it something we did? Could we have done better?”

Russel was frighteningly good at committing to the bit, only the slightest raise in his cheeks implying that he was enjoying this as much as the others.

“Why?” She stammered, “What do you mean, why does anyone? I’m sorry, is being charismatic and pioneering terrible qualities now?”

“I would say commandeering an entire generation of black music and taking credit like it’s your own is a pretty terrible quality.” Russel said with narrowed eyes.

“So’s having like 15 kilos of shit stuck in you!” 2D contributed.

“Tell me, do you dream of splitting a peanut butter and banana sarnie with him?” Murdoc asked, fluttering his eyelashes sickeningly.

The joy they were exhibiting in their interrogation was far too disarming, and it was only Noodle’s determination to stop it herself that kept her in the room.

“There is, literally, nothing practical to worry about!” Noodle yelled, hands held out as a fruitless attempt at reassurance, “Even if there was, I doubt I’d be his type anyway.”

“Maybe not now,” 2D mumbled, “10 years ago, maybe.”

Murdoc threw his head back with a howl of laughter, “Holy shit Dents, that was an actual good one!”

Russel groaned and collapsed on the sofa. “God almighty…”

“What?” Noodle demanded desperately, “I don’t get it.”

“He’s calling your boy toy a nonce, love.” Murdoc chuckled.

“Oh, like you can talk with your Bowie obsession!” She threw in 2D’s direction.

“Difference is I don’t wanna shag him!”

“And you should know better.” Russel told her quietly.

“Yeah! You should know better!” 2D concurred wholeheartedly.

“Listen.” She said firmly, and it worked well enough to quieten the boys. She took a moment, working out what was to actually come next, while they waited expectantly. “I… had a very, very different childhood to your typical-“

She was drowned out immediately by three sets of excited yells and groans.

“Not the childhood!”

“-and I am allowed-“

“Oh come on, girl!

“-to have juvenile-“

“I called it that that’d get a mention!”

“Ok fine!”

It was almost fitting in how irritating it was. She had been the one pushing for them to have more moments of unity, to help overcome the hump of awkwardness following their time apart. It was the most she’d seen the three of them get along since their reunion. And it was at her expense, the tossers.

Noodle began backing away to the door, face thoroughly screwed up as she nodded bitterly. “I get it. You all think it’s so funny. Unfortunately for you, I really couldn’t care.”

“Tell that to the pinkest cheeks mankind has ever witnessed.” Murdoc crooned.

The backs of her hands snapped to her cheeks to verify. They were practically burning.

“See, this is why I don’t share!”

Murdoc pointed at Elvis, “This is why we don’t ask!”

Noodle jabbed a finger in 2D’s direction, “You’re banned from my room! For, uh, a week, no, two! Use the fire escape if you want to get to the roof so bad.”

“Oh no…” 2D said quietly, a sorrowful hand on his cheek, “…now I’m all shook up.”

“Shut up!” She turned and stomped from the living room.

“Wait, weren’t you looking for something?” Murdoc called, “Your blue suede shoes, perhaps?”

The front door opened and slammed shut, and the men exhaled, their fun well and truly had.

“Right,” 2D started, reaching behind the sofa to retrieve the poster frame, still wrapped in plastic, that’d been effectively concealed, “suppose I’ll frame this up and pop it back.”

Russel rubbed his eyes tiredly as 2D toddled off.

“Never thought I’d miss the days when she was into Coxon,” he sighed, “At least nothing seems up with him.”

Murdoc tilted his head skeptically. “Eh, not a fan of the company he keeps.”

Chapter Text

“So now we all say, ‘Itadakimasu’.”

Murdoc narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “It’s a what? What’s that mean?”

2D tutted and leaned in close to explain, “Well, et tu is what Caeser said to Brutus that time, mass is mass, as in like full, and I dunno what daki is but all in all it probably means, ‘why are you not full yet?’” He turned to Noodle, “Right?”

Noodle blinked. “Not… even close. Where did you pull ancient Rome from? No, it’s just what’s said before a meal.”

“Like a bon appetit.” Russel explained.

“Or cheers?” Murdoc suggested.

Noodle shrugged, “Sure.”

“What’s ‘cheers’ in Japanese?” Murdoc asked, “That’s probably easier. I’ll say that.”

“No you will not.” She chided softly, exchanging a quick, excited glance with Russel.

With much of 2D’s desired tourist activities humoured, as well as Murdoc’s savouring of the local alcoholic offerings, the band had arrived at the part of the trip that Noodle and Russel were most looking forward to; the living, the local activities, the food and flair that real Osakans spent generations infusing into their city.

Russel had noted that this evening in particular, where they huddled close together at a restaurant in Kuromon Market, was what Noodle had been looking forward to most of all, and he might have chastised her devious glee had he not been looking forward to it as well. She had somehow convinced 2D and Murdoc to try fugu milt, anticipating one or both of them to find it absolutely disgusting, a detail she’d wisely neglected to mention. 2D had agreed on the basis of the name being fun to say, without looking up exactly what it was, while Murdoc, who had at least looked it up, had decided that eating pufferfish scrotum was a unique enough spin on Ozzy eating a bat that he could claim it as his own rockstar epithet.

Russel, never against making a harmless bet among friends, had told Noodle that upon trying it, 2D and Murdoc would likely both be out of action for the remainder of the trip. It was always nice for a while when the pair were having a good time, but there often came a point where their chirpiness veered into getting a little cocky and borderline insufferable respectively, and so embarrassing themselves by freaking out about the local cuisine seemed a suitable way to bring them both back down to Earth. With a chuckle, Noodle had assured Russel that they’d definitely, absolutely, probably, hopefully, be fine.

With the sacs now presented prettily in front of them, there was no going back. Noodle picked up her piece and the men followed suit.

Russel cast a quick glance at 2D and Murdoc, making a quick mental note of their ‘before’ faces. 2D appeared to be getting cold feet as he eyed it with hesitation, while Murdoc was practically squaring up to it, perhaps conjuring enough bravado to send the food down easily.

“Ready?” Noodle called, and without waiting for affirmation, counted them off, “three, two, one-“

“Cheers!” Murdoc yelled, and they each chucked their respective delicacies, a beat of silence following.

2D had a little confusion, before humming with acceptance. “It’s alright. Bit overboard on the salt, but I guess they can’t really help that.”

“Tell you what.” Murdoc mumbled, “That’s actually cracking. I’m almost disappointed, no story to be had from having something that good.”

Noodle cast quick looks at them both with a little disappointed huff. “That’s boring,” she said, and turned to Russel, “Guess you were…”

She noticed Russel’s face, and frowned. 2D and Murdoc cast their eyes to him similarly.

Russel’s eyes were like full beam headlights, his cheeks filled from a fair amount of milt that had yet to have been swallowed.

“Russ?” Noodle started, “You alright?”

Osaka residents turned in disappointed annoyance as Russel loudly spat a half chewed sac onto the table, coughing and spluttering as the band, exchanging quick glances, grew wicked grins.

“We found something he don’t like!” 2D howled, clapping in delight.

“What’s the matter, Hobbs?” Murdoc crowed, “Surprised we could stomach it and you couldn’t?”

“What the hell is in that?” Russel spat, pawing at 2D’s drink, which 2D eventually shuffled closer to him.

“Have you never tried it?” Noodle exclaimed, bewildered, “Haven’t you tried everything?”

A fist was over Russel’s mouth, trying to keep his insides inside, as he shook his head. The other one was holding 2D’s glass, attempting to find a window of safety to take a drink, a lurch stopping him every time he got close.

A small child in the restaurant was watching him with particular curiosity. His pride ached, almost as much as his stomach.

“Ain’t this the one that can be poisonous?” 2D asked innocently, pointing at Russel’s half eaten plate.

“It is, very good!” Noodle answered.

“Oh shit, oh shit,” Russel murmured as he gave up and set the glass down, sinking lower on the bench and turning a worrying shade of green, “It’s poison, I’ve been poisoned.”

“You have not been poisoned,” Noodle attempted to reassure, though it was undermined by her giggling, “we all just had the same thing.”

“Not the same fish though, surely.” Murdoc asked with a raised eyebrow.

“This is it. I’m gonna die.”

“You’re not dying, mate.” 2D explained, “You just don’t like it. This is what not liking something feels like. Same thing happened to me when I tried that Tesco smart price pasty, remember?”

Dangerous belches escaped Russel and he turned to the entrance, checking how close the escape route was. In doing so he knocked over the glass, spilling two thirds of drink over the table. Almost the entire restaurant was watching them at this point.

“Russel, we look like such tourists right now.” Noodle reprimanded as she dried the table with a handful of napkins.

“Yeah, you’re making a real song and dance of this,” Murdoc added, picking at a bit of food in his teeth and swallowing it pointedly in front of him.

Russel tried not to notice, but his peripheral vision saw Murdoc’s adams apple swallowing dramatically, and with just enough time to hunker behind the bench, emptied his stomach into 2D’s glass. The three made mixed reactions of dramatic disgust with the occasional laugh, though Russel was too occupied to discern how much actual concern there was for him.

Murdoc stood on the bench and turned to the disgruntled locals. “Attention all! It is my sad duty to announce that our drummer has been poisoned!”

Noodle swivelled on the bench to address the crowd Murdoc was performing to, “Kare wa doku ni okasarete inai.” She reassured with a hint of boredom, “Shinpai shinai de, shirako wa kare o korosanai yo.”

The locals nodded, but seemed no less exasperated as Murdoc continued.

“Therefore, our fabulous evening has been cut short, but you know what drummers are like, eh? Can’t take em anywhere!”

2D rubbed Russel’s back and helped him to his feet. “Don’t worry Russ, I got a few cool patches spare for my head, we’ll slap a few on your tummy. Then you should be all good for octopus tomorrow.”

Russel groaned.

“Naturally you’ll be hearing from our lawyer,” Murdoc continued to address the patrons as Noodle left a stack of money on the table and tugged at his arm, indicating they were leaving, “but rest assured, you’ve given us something we’ll treasure forever. Now and forever more, we know what to secretly feed Russ to take him out of action for a few days!”

Chapter Text

“This is nice, innit?”

Murdoc waited for someone else to answer 2D’s question, the ice clinking in his glass as he drank absently. As no answer happened and Murdoc became aware that 2D was looking at him, and only him, he stretched out the drinking for an unnaturally long time. When he was nearly done, he closed his mouth but kept the drink tipped, waiting for the idiotic attempt at small talk to pass.

Russel and Noodle turned to Murdoc expectantly as 2D blinked with innocence.

“Time of my life!” Murdoc finally spat, a little rum and coke landing on the table. 2D nodded, obliviously satisfied. Murdoc looked around the pub, a suspicious eyebrow cocked, “Nothing like being the life of the party by default.”

“Aw what, who told you?” 2D moaned, before he was silenced by a subtly firm elbow from Russel.

The four of them were the only ones in the pub, which was a little unusual for their regular spot. It was never heaving, and that was why it was their collective regular, since 2D couldn’t stand multi-layered noises and volumes for too long and Noodle preferred keeping public recognitions to a minimum on fun days. But it was never empty. Where was Manic Mildred? Where were Keith and the Keithettes?

“See, this is the problem,” Murdoc said, spinning his finger around to indicate he was referring to the pub’s emptiness, “With this country today. You know what caused this? Smoking ban. That and pints being like 6 bloody quid. No incentive these days to support your local business.”

“Such a man of the people,” Noodle drawled, “like it’s the worst thing in the world to go out to smoke.”

Murdoc turned to one of the windows, still barred from a bygone era when it likely attracted a more unsavoury crowd. Through the bars, a bright, sunny day peeked through.

“You’re right,” Murdoc sighed as he got to his feet, “but only coincidentally.” He retrieved a cigarette from his breast pocket, “Anyone joining?”

“Now?” 2D asked, but not to Murdoc. To Russel, who grimaced a little and gave a minute head shake.

“You have fun,” Russel told Murdoc, as Noodle and 2D shook their heads in similar declination.

“Pfft. Pansies.” Murdoc murmured, and went to the entrance and pushed.

The door didn’t move.

Murdoc pushed again, then pulled. The door wasn’t budging. He bent down to peer at the intricacies, noticing the door was bolted shut.

“What the…”

“Now!” Russel called.

What sounded like an explosion sounded around Murdoc, and with a yelp, he dropped to the ground, holding defensive hands out in a panic.

This was it, they were going to kill him. He thought if it was going to happen, it would’ve been in the first few weeks of their reunion, but they’d been smarter than he anticipated, lulled him into a false sense of forgiveness.

Eyes screwed shut, he awaited his fate for an agonisingly long time, until he could bear no more and one eye pried open in curiosity.

The other followed with a snap, both eyes widened.

The remnants of party poppers littered the floor and furniture, and a handful of presents, at various levels of wrapping quality, now sat across the table. The barmaid, who presumably hadn’t been able to rehearse as much, was still throwing balloons on the floor.

A large banner that had been rolled up at the back wall was now unfurled. Murdoc read the mockingly adorable cursive, his face falling.

‘Happy 50th Birthday, Murdoch!’

His band were all standing, adopting various, uncoordinated ‘surprise’ poses.

“You remembered.” He whispered, horrified.

2D, who was sensibly standing furthest back, gestured at the banner proudly with both hands, “Good ay? Did we get ya?”

“You spelled my name wrong.” He growled, reading the banner over and over.

“Thought you’d like that.” Noodle beamed.

It was one of the only things he didn’t want attention for. The only day appreciation would not be reciprocated. Everything else that garnered looks and reactions, good or bad, was his own doing. What wasn’t his choice, was ageing.

“Are we trapped here?” He whimpered.

Russel lowered his celebratory hands and crossed them, “I wouldn’t use the word ‘trapped’ myself, on account of having booked the place out weeks ago.”

“But no smoking in here, she’s watching you!” 2D ordered obediently.

Murdoc glanced at the barmaid desperately, who gave a terse nod.

“It’s not just me that gets buggered by that!” He howled defiantly.

Anticipating that particular protest, 2D and Noodle hoiked their shirt sleeves up, revealing somewhat unsightly white patches.

“We agreed you can have one too,” 2D told him, “If you behave.”

His eyes lit up upon remembering the new rule that had been established, “Wait, that’s right! We said we’d vote on things! On everything, right?”

“Of course.” Noodle replied sweetly.

“So I vote we fuck this naff plan off, never mention what happened here and you all sleep soundly the rest of your days. Agreed?”

He shot his hand up. No other hand followed.

“3 against 1,” Russel counted, “you lose.”

“Ah, but you forget. As the founder, my vote counts for double.”

Russel blinked. “All right. 3 against 2. You lose.”

“Bollocks!”

2D rested his hand under his chin and huffed, “This wouldn’t be that painful if you weren’t such a sissy about it.”

Murdoc grabbed a nearby stool, brandishing it as both his sword and shield, “Would a sissy do THIS?!” With an effortful grunt, he hurled it at the barred window, where it pinged off, happening to land standing up, ready for its intended use.

Not to be embarrassed by furniture, Murdoc stormed to it and picked it up, repeating the escape attempt several more times.

The trio watched him with pity. "Tough bars." 2D whispered to Noodle.

“Tough stool.” She marvelled in response.

“Do you think we should’ve let Ness know there was a risk of property damage?” Russel wondered aloud. The barmaid was watching Murdoc with a mix of boredom and annoyance.

Noodle waved away the concern, “Think he’ll tucker himself out long before any chance of that.”

Around attempt 6, Murdoc set the stool down, perched over and leaning on it to catch his breath.

“If it makes you feel better, age is just a number,” Noodle reassured, “what matters is the spirit. So if anything, 50 is extremely flattering.”

“You orchestrated all this, I’m guessing,” Murdoc spat, casting a seething glare in her direction.

“Russel, actually. I wanted to go paintballing and purposefully give you a gun that didn’t work.”

“Think I would’ve preferred that.”

Russel nodded, “Which is why we went with this.”

Stumbling to the bar like a drunk who’d just been cut off, Murdoc reached across it, falling short of grabbing the arm of the barmaid as intended, “Ness love, please, I’ll give you double what they paid to book this place out.”

“It’s getting sad now, man.” Russel told him.

Murdoc pointed at Russel with a snarl.

“Your birthday was three bloody days ago!” He accused, “Where was all the ballyhoo for that?”

“That’s the difference, Muds,” Russel said with a stretch, “I open the cards, I put the party hat on, and I eat my caterpillar cake. Like a man. I might not like the ageing process, but I don’t gotta be forced into accepting it. Nor forced into showing appreciation for people that just want to toast you somehow making it this far.”

Murdoc scanned the three innocent pairs of eyes one-by-one. Then the presents on the table, the balloons, the streamers, the banner, Ness.

“I don’t give a rats arse about that!” He finally roared, sprinting back to the door to scratch at it like a cat.

Russel watched him scramble for a moment, before sighing, “Well do you give a rats ass about the 500 put behind the bar?”

“You can get-“ Murdoc halted his tirade and raised an eyebrow. “500 quid?”

“We knew you needed some incentive to not burn the place to the ground.” Noodle remarked.

“But it’s only if you enjoy yourself!” 2D teased with glee, pointing at the barmaid, “or pretend to, at least. Ness is judging you.”

“If you wanna leave, though,” Russel shrugged, “you just gotta ask. Politely.”

Murdoc narrowed his eyes with such suspicion his eyes appeared closed, as if meditating.

“Not a catch for that and all, is there?” He checked, “Like half a grands worth of lime soda’s only?”

“No, but good idea,” Noodle said, impressed, “Forget that before next year’s.”

He muttered some inaudible curses, and stepped away from the door. One by one they approached the table and sat back down.

“Next year you should open with the free drinks,” he grumbled as he sat, holding his hand out for a nicotine patch, “And I’d done such a cracking job not mentioning it.”

“It’s a pretty hard date to forget, mate.” 2D grinned.

“Yeah, I’m regretting that now.”

“You say that like it was your choice.” Noodle chuckled.

Murdoc hummed lamentably, “Long story.”

2D retrieved a patch and went to hand it to Murdoc, but was stopped by Noodle grabbing his wrist.

With fight or flight adrenaline far from dissipated, Murdoc widened his eyes at her.

Under the table, Noodle retrieved a small yellow party hat and slid it across the table to him.

He eyed it with disgust.

Chapter Text

The receptionist, appropriately named Kat if her name tag was to be believed, looked at the five of them in turn.

“What brings you here today?”

“Watch it,” Murdoc warned, “don’t call her a what.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Noodle dragged us all here, because he-“ Murdoc jabbed at the cage Noodle held in her left hand, “is suddenly all our responsibility.”

The band wore varying degrees of exasperation on their faces, though Noodle’s looked by far the most focused, standing out towards the veterinarian’s desk while the others stood around, looking and acting like loiterers.

“And ‘he’ is…?”

“Katsu.” Noodle said, “I called earlier, he’s been throwing up on the carpet a lot.”

Kat stared into the cage. Katsu stared back, pupils dilated and hunkered down defensively.

He certainly looked discomforted, but the reasons were unclear. He could indeed be unwell, or feel guilty for expelling onto the carpet. It was equally likely that the expression he wore was that of confusion, either for being here or finding himself with his respective owners.

2D leaned in, keen to add what he believed was important information, “We don’t actually know it’s him.”

“It is,” said Noodle, more to Kat than 2D.

“Nobody’s seen him do it.” 2D explained.

“Who else could it have been?” Noodle asked, hoping her little laugh would both come across relaxed and encourage Kat to find the theory similarly ridiculous.

“2D.” Murdoc answered instead, instantly.

“It had hair and little pellets in it.”

“2D.” He maintained.

2D buried his arms into an indignant fold. “Get tricked into eating hair two times and that’s all people ever remember.” he huffed.

Russel, who had a pencil behind his ear to imply he’d likely been in the middle of something prior, stepped forward, “I’ve tried explaining that cats throwing up is very common.”

“Russel, I’m handling it.”

“But hey, I get it. It’s sweet, really. She’s a protective person, always has been.”

Noodle’s eye twitched with slight embarrassment, not eager to turn this into a reminiscing session. “It’s not about me.”

“No, it’s about all of us, apparently.” Murdoc grumbled, grabbing assorted leaflets from the desk, half-glancing at them, and then dumping them in the waste paper basket. Upon noticing the receptionist’s disapproving look, he rolled his eyes, retrieved the leaflets, and instead dumped them in the recycling bin.

Kat, slightly placated, returned to Noodle, “So you said Katsu, correct? That’s spelled…”

2D straightened up, ready to be helpful. “C-a-t-z-o-o.”

“No it isn’t.” Noodle clarified quickly.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not.”

2D frowned. “But innit a pun?”

“Was that with an S or a Z?” Kat asked, having ignored the last part of the exchange to commence typing details into her laptop.

“S.” Noodle snipped, emitting an affronted look in response, “And a K. And a U.”

“There, they’re, their,” Murdoc said, squinting to dubiously read the vet’s certifications on the wall, “not like spelling matters when you’re just belting at it to sod off the chaise longue.”

“Or to stop eating the bread.” 2D hummed.

Noodle blinked at the information, and turned to him, “He’s been eating the bread?”

2D nodded, “Like a proper nutter.”

“Why don’t you do anything?”

“Sometimes I’m not hungry.”

“You don’t have to eat it instead!” Noodle cried, causing Katsu’s head to snap up in her direction, “Just hide it!”

“Then he gets hungry!” 2D argued.

“Are you properly feeding your cat, miss?” The receptionist asked, leaning forward with suspicion.

“Of course!” Noodle said a little defensively, lifting the cage to give her a closer look, “See for yourself, he’s healthy!”

Katsu’s head tilted, unsure what was expected of him. Kat nodded, and turned to her laptop to check something.

“So, he’s healthy? Because it says here that he’s been vomiting recently.”

“Allegedly.” Murdoc reminded her.

“Might it be another cat?” Kat reasoned.

Russel shook his head, “Here’s the deal. We recently moved into a house with a lot of animated spirits. And it’s not uncommon for them to leave residue on their travels.”

“Especially given the fact it’s been a while for most of them.” Murdoc agreed.

2D pulled a face, “You saying that’s been ghost gozz on the floor this whole time?”

“I didn’t say that,” Russel said, matching 2D’s look of disgust, “and I don’t think anyone else has ever said that, either. But if the shoe fits.”

Kat, doing her best to transcribe, looked up from her keyboard, “Could you repeat that, ghost…?”

“Don’t get that down!” Noodle ordered, and the boys looked at her fearfully. In the waiting area, a child chose that moment to grab a peace blanket from the basket and drape it over his hamster’s cage.

Noodle took a breath, readying herself to get back on track, before Russel’s curious voice sounded once more.

“You guys must get a lot of dead animals here, huh.”

“Russel.” Noodle stated, as measuredly as humanly possible.

“How funny is that,” Murdoc grinned, “I was just thinking the exact same thing.”

Striding forward to be on Noodle’s right, he leaned on the narrow counter, until his face was a foot away from the receptionist’s.

“Tell me,” he purred, “that morbid stench, life and death hanging via your own slender fingers. Does it do anything for you?”

She nodded pleasantly, “I do find my job very stimulating.”

A low, long, seedy laugh coughed out of Murdoc, and his eyebrows waggled in delight, “Say no more. Unless of course, there is more.”

Before she could, Russel arrived at Noodle’s left, hands clasped together studiously, “And, just hypothetically, does every animal get cremated? Do the families ever have special requests to receive them in certain positions?”

Without any desk left, 2D appeared behind Noodle, tall enough to rest his chin atop her head to join in the conversation. “My mate’s dad was a vet. He’s seen horses.”

“What was wrong with them?” Russel asked.

Brief confusion flashed across 2D's face, “Oh, nothing, he was at Cheltenham. Big big gambling addict.”

Kat offered a fabricated look of sympathy, before returning to the screen, “So, Catzoo’s been-“

“You’ve still got Katsu spelled wrong.” Noodle cut in, “I can tell by how you pronounced it.”

“Ma’am,” she replied sternly, “I’m trying to help.”

Noodle’s jaw fell slightly, “Are you telling me to calm down?”

Instantly, the boys moved to intercept in ways that were likely doing more harm than good.

“It’s alright Noodle,” 2D stammered, attempting to pull her away from the desk, “she didn’t mean nothing by it.”

“Careful sweetheart,” Murdoc added, leaning even further towards Kat while jabbing a thumb towards Noodle behind him, “you don’t wanna set this one off.”

“It just takes her a while with new people,” Russel clarified, “It’s actually pretty charming, when you ain’t on the receiving end.”

“Right.”

With her one free arm, Noodle herded the band into the quietest corner of the small waiting area.

“Point taken,” she hissed, “You’d rather not be here. I’d rather not either. But you can be helpful, or sulk quietly, or just go get an ice cream next door until I’m done.”

The men exchanged looks, considering their options.

When nobody moved, Noodle nodded once and turned back to the desk.

“I’m sure it is nothing,” she told Kat pleasantly, “but we just moved him halfway across the world, and he’s seemed off since we arrived and I just would like to get him checked out.”

Somewhere in 2D’s head, a lightbulb flicked on, “Oh wait a sec, do you think he might still be jet-lagged?

“D…” Noodle started, both sweetly and quietly, combining to mostly sound menacing.

“It can be quite hard to identify jet lag in cats.” Kat told him.

“Oh really?” 2D asked curiously, “Why’s that?”

“Because we don’t care.”

Her attention was drawn to the quiet sound of dry retching from the cage.

“Look, look!” Noodle cried, holding the cage up to the vet pointedly, “He’s heaving!”

Russel folded his arms, honing in on the sound like it was a new demo that had just been brought to him. “Nah, heaving is more guttural. That’s a wheeze, without a doubt.”

“Murdoc does that.” 2D pointed out.

“I’d do it less if you knew how to fix a drink.” Murdoc grumbled.

Kat pressed enter on the keyboard. Noodle realised with horror that it was only the first time she had done it.

“What’s his date of birth?” She asked.

“We don’t know,” Noodle sighed, “we found him after- look, this was all explained on the phone already.”

“Take cover.”

Noodle’s teeth were grinding. “Murdoc.”

“If you don’t know his date of birth, we’ll have to get him registered with one.”

“So make one up!” Noodle yelled, “It doesn’t matter! He is a cat, that is being sick, so I’ve taken him to the place that can help, why is that so difficult?!”

Kat’s lips were pursed as she absorbed the words. After a beat, she typed with finality at the laptop.

“I’m happy for the vet to see him. But the attitude and animosity’s waiting outside.”

Noodle ran a hand down her face, “Please can they stay?” she pleaded, “I know they can be a lot, but they’re just acting out because I dragged them here. Most of them are harmless, and between us, I’m gunning for these tangential moments of responsibility to help us stick together from here on. It’ll be hard work, but all good things are, you know?”

The receptionist’s eyebrow raised in skepticism. “It sounds like you’re alluding to a lot of context I’m not familiar with. And I’m talking about you.”

“Me?!” Noodle spluttered.

“Yes. You’ll have to wait outside.”

“Come on then,” Murdoc announced with a clap, “Every second counts in life and death, so let’s get this bloody well over with.”

“Don't worry, Noodle,” 2D said, taking Katsu from Noodle’s stunned form, “I’ll pick a proper good date for his birthday.”

“Keep the car running, Noodle,” Murdoc grinned, dismissing her with a flap of the hand in the the direction of the entrance, “shan’t be long, doubt euthanasia takes as long as it used to these days.”

“He’s kidding, baby.” Russel reassured, giving her his best reassuring smile, “Go enjoy the fresh air, maybe get an ice cream next door. That’ll help you ease up.”

“Me ease up?!”

Across the room, the boy’s hamster squeaked in fear.

Noodle scanned the faces of the living creatures, all of which were looking at her.

Confusion, irritation, patronising sympathy. Not a single look that had made all this effort worth it.

She turned on her heel with a growl. “If they don’t have mango, I swear to god.”

Chapter Text

“…yeah, and?”

Russel looked across the aisle at 2D’s puzzled expression.

“Nothing.” He said solemnly, “That’s it.”

2D considered for one more beat before coming to his conclusion. “That’s rubbish.”

Russel’s mouth collapsed open in shock.

“It’s beautiful.” He insisted. “It’s heartbreaking.”

“It’s not bad.” Noodle offered, “For a first draft.”

“For a first…” Russel blinked. “…you not understanding what it means?”

On his other side, Murdoc stretched out a satisfied grunt. “Russ, stories are like jokes or getting caught with a fleshlight in your carry-on. You’re not gonna make it better by explaining it.”

Russel shuffled around in his seat to face him. Murdoc had already reclined his seat, much to the chagrin of the passenger behind.

“You understand it, right?”

“Course I do,” Murdoc tutted, “I’m not simple. Entitled little brat didn’t want his shoes, so mummy and daddy gotta fork out the money to put them in the classifieds.”

“No, No! That’s not what’s going on.”

“Ohhhh, so it’s like one of them cautionary tales.” 2D said, with a thoughtful finger on his chin. “Don’t have kids, in case they turn out to be wankers.”

“I would want some sort of proof they were never worn.” Noodle said constructively, “Put ‘receipt included’ in it. Then it’s an 8 word story, still short, but it makes a lot more sense.”

Russel shook his head, “That takes everything away from it. That makes it about the purchase, and not about the tragedy.”

All Russel had been trying to do was talk his nerves down before the plane took off. Once he was in the air he was usually fine. Then it would start to land and then the armrest gripping and air-steward shaking would commence all over again.

He just wanted to distract himself with a beautiful story he thought about a lot.

Trust the rest of them to rip it apart.

“A mother, losing her baby,” he tried to explain, “before they ever had the chance to wear their first pair of shoes.”

The three thought for a beat. A long enough beat that Russel began to believe he had gotten through to them.

“Yeah, but we don’t know that.” Noodle said with a shrug.

“Well I’m telling you.”

“We should probably know that in the story itself.” She countered.

“Then it’s longer than six words!” Russel cried.

“Good!” She retorted with a similarly affronted tone, “Most good stories are!”

“That can’t be what it’s about.” 2D mumbled, “That’s sad.”

“And why can’t it be sad?”

“Cuz it’s for kids.”

“It is not!” Russel yelled, then nodded a little apologetically at the stewardess shooting a dirty look his way. He continued, more measuredly, “Where you getting it’s for kids?”

“If it in’t for kids why’s it so short?”

“This is why you don’t write the lyrics, Hobbs.” Murdoc grinned.

“I didn’t write it!”

"Would you lot shut it?!" A passenger in front snapped, features just about visible through the gap in the seats, "They're giving the safety instructions!"

"Exits are hither and thither, four eyes," Murdoc shot back, "enjoy your first ever flight." he turned back to Russel with urgency, “Well who did write it, eh? Because we have notes.”

“I don’t remember.” Russel admitted, a little sheepishly, “Think they’ve passed on.”

“Oh no. What happened to their shoes?”

“Noodle, I swear-“

“Can we talk about the bit with the shoes?” 2D asked, a hand raised.

“As opposed to all the other parts of the story?” Murdoc derided.

“Who ended up buying them?”

“Nobody!” Russel bellowed, ignoring any further disparaging looks from staff and passengers.

Murdoc leaned forward with interest. “Ah, see now it is getting sad. Didn’t even make a return on it.”

“Maybe do a new line underneath.” Noodle suggested, still deep in her constructive criticism, “‘Nobody bought them.’”

“Again, didn’t write it.”

“So you don’t actually know they were never worn.” Murdoc quipped, realising a little late how fun it looked to drive Russel mad over this, “Maybe some other sprog tried them on in the shop.”

Russel’s teeth gritted, “They weren’t.”

“That’s not established.”

“I prefer it being ambitious.” 2D thought out loud.

“Ambiguous?” Noodle checked with him.

“That too. Like, they might’ve bought shoes online and accidentally ordered the kids size.”

“You have done that.” Murdoc pointed out.

2D nodded, “Loads of times. Does feel like a tragedy when it happens to be fair.”

“This story’s like 100 years old,” Russel almost wailed, “it had nothing to do with online shopping.”

“Never heard of a reboot?” Murdoc asked innocently.

“Yeah!” Noodle exclaimed, “we’re bringing it in to the 21st century!”

“Re-boot’s quite a good name for the story, actually.” 2D mused.

“It don’t need a title,” Russel roared, “it’s six goddamn words!”

His yell echoed throughout the plane. Gingerly, Russel sat up straight enough to glance around.

Every single passenger was looking at him.

Hunkering down out of sight, he fished around in his backpack, retrieving his headphones.

“I’m ignoring all y’all.” He grumbled, “Let me freak out about the plane taking off in peace.”

“It’s taken off,” 2D said.

“Huh?”

“Took off around ‘Nobody bought them’.” Noodle explained. “Think you were too distracted to notice.”

Russel turned and looked past Murdoc to the small port-hole window.

London was distant, fading away fast.

“Oh.” Russel sounded.

“So if you’ve got any other shite stories,” Murdoc said as he opened two travel-sized rum bottles, “save it for in around 7 hours time.”

Chapter Text

“Still feeling confident?”

Murdoc smirked, refusing to rise to Noodle’s snide remark. “I’ve never been beaten by a machine before. Apart from the ones specifically designed to beat me.”

Russel twirled his finger around the cramped space. “We are literally inside a beaten machine.”

It was half an hour into the elevator breaking down, and the band had already cycled through panic, alliances, betrayals, and boredom. As opposed to most who had recording days at Studio 13, they frequently worked long into the night, so their initial calls for help had gone no further than the lift walls.

As the only one with signal, Noodle had used the resource well, first leaving a message with the number stickered to the lift door, then bringing up a game where a website attempted to guess the famous person they were thinking of.

Murdoc had initially abstained from partaking, but the others had managed to get themselves successfully guessed, so it seemed only right that he would step in and show them how quickly it can guess a truly famous name.

“Is your famous person a musician?” He read aloud, “You bet he is.”

“How many guesses you on?” 2D asked, watching Murdoc’s deep concentrated face boring into Noodle’s phone.

“Nosey.” Murdoc reprimanded.

2D tutted, “Well it got me in 17.”

Murdoc snorted, “Pathetic effort. What, did you forget who you wanted it to guess?”

Noodle tilted her head to and fro, “There were a couple accidental red herrings.”

“I did used to have brown hair!” 2D protested, “and you said you weren’t looking!”

Murdoc puffed out some derisive air, then returned to the questioning.

“Is your person in a band?” He continued, a theatrical finger tapping at his chin, “Hmm, I suppose he is, isn’t he?”

“Despite his best efforts.” Russel noted, reaching up to tap the emergency button once more.

Murdoc had been, much to the irritation of the others, the only one who had insisted on reading every question out loud, not counting 2D’s quiet murmuring to make his own understanding easier.

Murdoc flicked his gaze towards Russel, “How many it take you?”

“Nosey.” 2D mocked, Murdoc’s glare having no effect on the jibe.

“9.” Russel answered.

“See? And that’s the drummer.”

“Watch it.”

Murdoc ignored the warning and shifted attention to Noodle, “And you?”

“14. Probably could’ve cut it in half, but I got a little preoccupied with finding out who I’m like. I told it I was left-handed out of curiosity and it guessed Courtney Barnett, isn’t that cool?”

“Cheers for the post-game analysis, Des Lynam,” he drawled with an eye-roll, “A number was all that was needed.”

Noodle raised a suspicious eyebrow, “Whoever that is, shut up.”

In Murdoc’s peripheral vision, 2D’s bony frame was shimmying around, attempting in vain to find a comfortable spot on the lift floor. The lift creaked quietly in response, the only external noise they’d heard thus far.

“You know if you do get it in the least questions,” 2D told Murdoc, “it’s only cuz you’re obsessed with mouthing off in every interview.”

“Which invalidates it, how?” Murdoc retorted, “‘If you’re memorable, it’s only because you’re memorable.”

“I’m saying it’s self-inflicted.”

“I’ll inflict you.”

“No threats anywhere you can’t be thrown out.” Noodle recited, “You know the rules.”

“‘Is your musician a bass player?’” Murdoc read, once more utilising the quiz to ignore, “I’m more of a the than an a, but I’ll let it slide.”

“I personally think you’re a huge a.” Russel muttered, dragging a sleeve across the sweat that had accumulated on his forehead.

A sick grin grew across Murdoc’s face, “Look at that.” He said, turning the phone around to show them, “Is your bass player born on June 6th 1966?”

Collective groans and tuts came from his band.

“All right, smart-ass, wrap it up.” Russel sighed.

Murdoc turned the phone back to himself and pressed the next question, beginning to say the question before even looking at the screen.

“Are you Murdoc Fau-what the fuck?!”

The group felt silent, their interest piqued.

His face honed in until it was inches from Noodle’s phone, disbelieving. Eyes narrowing, widening, then narrowing again.

“What’s it say?” 2D asked, when it started looking like they weren’t going to be told otherwise.

Murdoc stammered incomprehensibly, still stupefied, before choking out, “‘Are you Sean Yseult?’”

Three bursts of laughter were fired his way, his hand trembling as he read the name that wasn’t his own over and over.

“Damn, that’s a hell of a call.” Russel grinned, wiping a tear from his eye.

“She’s fantastic.” Noodle agreed, beaming, “Would’ve been my guess, too.”

“Was it not your pick?” 2D asked Murdoc innocently.

“No!” He howled, “No I’m bloody well not Sean bloody Yseult!”

“Well, say that,” Russel chuckled softly, bringing his volume down to hopefully encourage Murdoc to do the same, “and it’ll keep guessing.”

Murdoc looked at Russel, nodded desperately, then pressed the screen, only for his face to fall further.

“It’s given up!” He screamed.

“Think that means you win.” 2D offered.

“Fucking huzzah!”

“Calm down.” Noodle instructed, “Look, you can put the name in if it’s someone nobody’s searched for it yet. That’s how it builds.”

His eyes widened at her information, glimmering with shock and horror as he looked at her.

“Nobody’s searched me?” He whispered.

The band exchanged looks, unsure how or if to break the news to him.

“Well… now they have.” 2D pointed out.

Murdoc summoned his bravado back and shoved the phone Noodle’s way. “Rubbish game anyway, probably made by greasy 17 year olds in their mums basement.”

“Sounds like your exact-“

Noodle cut herself off as she checked her phone over.

“Murdoc… did the building call you while you were playing?”

“Incessantly,” Murdoc answered with a sulk, “Were getting right on my tits, had to mute the bastards.”

He folded his arms and stayed rooted to the floor as the others jumped to their feet, crowding around Noodle’s phone as she attempted to call them back.

“Voicemail again.” she said after a beat, and the three looked down at him, seething.

Murdoc checked his nails with a little shrug. “Keep better hold of your phone next time.”

Russel’s fists trembled in anger, but suddenly stopped, and he slowly pointed a finger at Murdoc, waiting as long as was needed until Murdoc finally looked at him.

“Sean would’ve handed the phone over.”

Chapter Text

“So we going in?” Russel asked.

2D eyed the pub warily, “In a min.”

Laughs, yells, glass shattering and brief punch-ups could all be heard from inside, somehow from all four corners of the building.

Russel turned to Murdoc, “When’s it starting?”

“Oh, we got bags of time.” Murdoc reassured, before adding once a dramatic enough pause had occurred, “We are waiting for next week’s game, yeah?”

The Bucther’s Hook was alive with middle-aged hooligan activity. 2D had spoken quite brashly of his affinity for it, and how it was the go-to place for rough-and-ready Chelsea supporters on match days. Though his confusion over certain details had lead to the band concluding one of two things; the blows to his head were more incapacitating than they had initially assumed, or he was stealing stories from his old friends and passing them off as his own.

Russel looked towards the heavens, the brisk overcast sky somewhat helping to soothe his irritation. “You had to pick the coldest damn day to insist on coming, didn’t you.”

“First game of the year, innit.” 2D murmured, “That means something.”

“Means something to prats.” Murdoc derided, stepping round to be within 2D’s field of vision, “The first day of 1998, my year, and this is how you want to spend it. Part of a crowd, cheering for overpaid nancy’s, without a smidge of irony. Satan save me, I’m not sure why I even waste my breath on you sometimes.”

2D paused his scanning to pull a face Murdoc’s way, “Well if you’re so miffed about it, how come you came at all? Didn’t have to.”

“Two reasons.” Murdoc replied. “One, now we’re finally a complete band, it unfortunately means we have to start acting like it.”

2Ds hand’s, paler even than normal, trembled slightly as they retrieved a cigarette pack from his pocket, “Right, and what’s reason two?”

“Stu!”

The three turned to the door to the pub, where a jubilant Paula was playfully fighting her way out.

Murdoc hummed quietly as she bounced over to them, “Slips my mind.”

“You been out here this whole time?” She grinned at 2D, smoothly nabbing a cigarette from his pack and lighting it for herself, “It’s well fun in there, they’re actually sound.”

“Can’t imagine why.” Murdoc mumbled, eyeing her up and down.

“Trust me babes,” she continued, not hearing him, “you got no reason to be shitting yourself.”

“I ain’t shitting nothing!” 2D wailed, “I’m one of them!”

The icy wind picked an apt moment to whoosh awkwardly as they stared at him.

Russel - who shared Murdoc’s disdain for most elements of British football culture but generally refrained from voicing it - sighed.

“Man, we passed by like 6 quiet bars on the way here that had the game on.”

“Better still, I saw plenty of pubs that didn’t!” Murdoc added.

“Either we go in here,” Russel continued, “find one of those others if this ain’t your style, or head back, but I ain’t freezing my ass off any longer.”

“It ain’t that cold!” 2D squawked.

Three sets of eyebrows raised in skepticism. He’d insisted a Chelsea shirt and jeans was all he was going to need, that the adrenaline of the game, plus a pint or three, would be enough to keep him warm for the evening.

Without atmosphere or alcohol, the temperature had caused him to shiver uncontrollably which, combined with his skinny frame, was making him audibly rattle.

“We can go somewhere else, Stu.” Paula reassured, in a tone inundated with condescension. “It’s alright. This is the closest you got to it yet.”

Murdoc and Russel stared at him, outraged.

“You kidding?" Russel exclaimed, throwing his hands up, "You never shut up about this place and you never been inside?”

2D’s head swung hopelessly towards her, “Mum told you that?”

“She told me everything,” she remarked, tongue out, before regarding the other men, “If you lot wanna know any embarrassing stories from his childhood, I’m your girl.”

Russel’s eye was still narrowed in 2D’s direction, “I’m good. Just let me know when his childhood’s gonna actually end.”

His unlit cigarette was still in his mouth, fingers twiddling, barely hearing the words not meant for him. Paula looked down at his hands and rolled her eyes.

“So you’re a bit of a pansy,” She crooned, hooking her arms up and around his neck, “Own it, it’s cute. We’ll head back, get all cozy like, and you can check the scores on teletext.”

“No!” 2D cried, shaking himself free, “I fit in with this lot, I swear!”

“Can’t fit in if you ain’t in.” Russel said plainly, grabbing one of 2D’s arms, “Let’s go.”

“Woah hang on-”

“Come on,” Murdoc concurred, grabbing the other arm, “it’ll be good practice for the mosh pits I’ll be throwing you off stage into.”

“You what?”

“Say you’re with me, babe,” Paula called after them, “they’ll be alright with ya then!”

2D’s feet skidded along the ground as he was dragged to the door. With little effort needed to keep him restrained, Russel opened the front door, and the pair threw him inside, leaning against the closed door just in case.

Paula approached them, head tilted, “You reckon that’s a good shout?”

Murdoc folded his arms, “It’ll be good for him darling, trust me. I’m the one that saved his life, I have authority on where and when it should be risked.”

“Yeah, but… they were pretty big.”

A shred of concern surfaced within Russel, “You also said they were nice.”

“Sound don’t mean nice, mate.” She clarified, with enough 'duh' in her tone that it brought a chuckle from Murdoc, “Lotta bulldog tattoos in there.”

Russel gave a single, trepidatious nod, “I see. Well I got a hunch after a little while he’ll settle, and we’ll be safe to head in-”

A loud shattering of glass interrupted him, followed by a loud thud.

Clinging on admirably to his own point, Russel initially abstained from looking.

“That him?” He at least asked Paula, and she nodded.

They turned, finding 2D’s body freshly hauled through the adjacent pub window.

“That was quick.” Murdoc marvelled.

“Some of those lads were built like shot-putters.” Paula explained as she hurried over to him, the others trailing behind with far less urgency.

External damage fortunately appeared to be minimal as they examined his prone body, only a couple superficial cuts to be found among the pile of broken glass.

“Oi.” Murdoc said, giving 2D’s head a little kick, “Wakey wakey.”

2D rolled over, and to their surprise, had a wide grin on his face.

“Y’alright, punchline?” Paula grinned, “First time as good as you imagined?”

“They were laughing,” 2D said dreamily, “I made them laugh.”

“I bet you did.” Russel said, pulling him up and onto his shoulder in one motion. “Now, home.”