Chapter Text
October 28, 2004
Tonight, as she has many other nights, she hunkers down in her room, her dresser pushed in front of her door and a katana beside her pillow, ready for another feeble attempt at sleep. She doesn't dare turn out the light, at the expense of throwing her circadian rhythm into the landfill out behind Kong Studios. Who would have thought, Noodle ponders, that her newly unlocked child-soldier training would be put to use so swiftly? It is a curse, a blessing— but mostly a curse, as unfortunately, she lives in a world in which she must fight off hordes of the undead.
Noodle pulls her armful of stuffed animals closer and tucks her knees to her chest as her eyelids begin to succumb to their heaviness at last. It’s finally quiet— nothing scratches at the walls, lurks around the floor above, or groans at her door. She is alone, it seems— still lonely, but at the very least, alone.
That is, until the floorboards in the hall creak beneath what sounds like a pair of boots. Noodle’s eyes snap open and she bolts upright, trying to listen in over the sound of her own heartbeat. Though, unlike the dreaded, dragging footfalls she’s grown used to over the past few days, these are familiar— a gait she’s heard throughout the halls of Kong for years. As quickly as her heart began to pound with dread, it now flutters with delight. She’s no longer alone.
Noodle throws her blanket aside and rushes to the door, throwing her whole body against her dresser to push it aside. She pokes her head out into the dark hallway and sees a yellow, hopeful light shining from under the bathroom door, the sound of the running shower confirming the sign of life.
As much as she desperately wants to pound on the door and announce her presence, she opts to let him finish his shower— since he probably desperately needs it— and sits anxiously on her bed, listening for the sound of the bathroom door.
Though the fifteen minutes feel like fifteen hours, at long last, she hears the click of the lock, and the door opens.
Noodle can’t bolt out of her room fast enough as Murdoc saunters down the hallway in the opposite direction, boots in hand, his back to her.
“ MADOKKU! ”
Murdoc spins around with unadulterated terror in his eyes, clutching his hand to his chest, until he realizes the source of his name, and his fear melts away to a delighted surprise Noodle’s never seen him express before.
“Jesus tap-dancing CHRIST, Noodle!”
Noodle sprints at mach-20 and throws herself into him. He drops his boots and
miraculously catches her, stumbling backward with a mild “ oof!” She wraps her arms around him and he picks her up to squeeze her tighter. In the euphoria of their reunion, it seems he’s forgotten his disdain for hugs, just as she’s forgotten her disdain for him.
“Thank Satan I didn’t decide to walk around in the buff, ‘cos I swore I was alone. How long have you been here?”
“A week!” Noodle grunts, as he’s still holding her tightly. He sets her down and presses his hands to his lower back, wincing with pain.
“A week! Christ, what have you been doing all alone?”
“ Aghhh …it’s been a rough week,” Noodle says. “When I came back, I was so excited to finally be home with you guys, but no one was here, and instead, the whole building was completely overrun with zombies! I’ve been fighting them off for days, and I think I got most of them, but I can’t be too sure.”
Murdoc looks at her aghast. “So that’s the smell. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Better now that someone’s here.”
“If you were bitten, you’d tell me, right?”
“ Hai .”
“Let’s get somewhere else, then. What’s the safest room?”
Noodle points to her room and leads the way, pushing her dresser back in front of her door once they’re both inside.
Murdoc sits down on her bed, moving her katana aside. “Sorry I didn’t make it back sooner, love. I’d have been here much earlier if I had it my way. But I’m sure you heard I was banged up in Mexico, so you can imagine it was a bit of a pickle trying to get back to Old Blighty.” He lays back on her bed, rubbing his eyes with his palms, his wet, black hair falling away from his face. “But obviously, I managed— made some new chums, took a few notes from the Shawshank Redemption , nicked a car, Bob's-Yer-Uncle, made our way across the border muy pronto .” He looks over at Noodle, her mouth agape, as he recalls his story. “Painfully sober, mind you, but it’s not so bad once you get over the shakes.”
Noodle doesn’t ask if he’s planning on staying sober, at least until their other band mates can join them, and instead tucks the thought in the back of her mind as he continues.
“I was rrrrrreally hoping to get my hands on some choice tequila on our way out, but we were in a bit of a hurry.” He sits up again as Noodle takes a seat at the end of her bed. “So I escaped from a Mexican prison, what’s Russel and 2D’s excuse for leaving you high-and-dry?”
Noodle shrugs sadly. “I don’t know. Last I heard, Russel was trying to work on his own album with Ike Turner, but I don’t know where he is right now. And 2D’s back in Crawley, working at his dad’s fun-fair. I tried calling his parents’ house, but he was never around to get back to me.”
“Bugger. No reason he should still be fucking around in his mummy and daddy’s basement by now, leaving you all by yourself— he’d better be dead, or he has no excuse. Same with Russ. I expect a little more of him. Though, he didn’t seem to be in the best state of mind when I last heard from him…”
“But I’m glad you’re here,” Noodle interrupts. “I was worried I was going to be spending my birthday alone.”
Murdoc’s eyes widen with an oh shit sort of remembrance. “Right! When is that?”
“Three days. From today.”
“Oh, right, of course,” Murdoc says. “You’ll have to forgive me, love, time’s slipped away from me, what with uh, you know, I’ve been keeping track of the days by scratching them into my cell wall. But I’ll make it up to ya, we’ll do something for your birthday, even though it looks like it’ll just be you and me.”
“You promise?”
“Of course,” Murdoc says, reaching out to muss her already messy hair. “And you’re turning…fffffffffffff…”
“Fourteen,”
“Yes! Oh God,” Murdoc says, dragging his hand down the side of his face— more gaunt than when she saw him last. “It’s been that long, hasn’t it?” He stares at her wistfully— he can mark the time passed through the changes in her features. Her scrawny limbs have grown to gangly, teenaged ones. While still small for her age, she’s taller now, her head now reaching his chin, and her baby cheeks giving way to a more narrow, grown-up face. What’s most different though, is her sentences are clear, spoken quickly without hesitation as she doesn’t have to stop and wrack her brain for the right words. How does he begin to articulate how much she’s grown, and by the same token, how much time he’s pissed away? The best he can muster is:
“Christ, you’re old. When’d that happen?”
“Same time as you,” Noodle says. “You’re gonna stay, right? You’re not going anywhere?”
“I didn’t schlep all the way back here to dip again, now did I?”
“I mean here . In case there’s still zombies?”
“I’m sure I can fend for myself,” Murdoc says, and Noodle frowns.
“But you just got here, so much has happened since you were gone!”
“And you can tell me all about it tomorrow, alright?” Murdoc reaches up and stretches, scrunching his face. “What about my Winnebago?”
Noodle inhales through her teeth. “It’s uh, still covered in…brains.”
“How bad?”
“Loooooot of brains,” Noodle says. “Really gross. Even by your standards. Please stay. I don’t want to be alone again.”
“Agh, well. I suppose if you don’t mind my company.”
“Of course not! I have so much to tell you about—“
“Love, I just had a looooong and arduous trip back, and I’m very tired. Tell me about it once I’m awake enough to hear it.”
“Okay,” Noodle says, disappointed, but still grateful to have a companion.
“You don’t happen to have any cleaner shirts that aren’t doll-sized, do you?”
Noodle scrounges through her dresser, clothes haphazardly shoved in the drawers until she finds the oversized Rob Zombie shirt he’d gifted her from a concert, and tosses it to him.
“Brilliant, thanks, love.” He pulls the grimy, white tee-shirt off over his head to replace it with the clean one. Noodle can’t help but notice the bruises on his torso, and his boney ribs jutting from under his skin
“What happened?” She asks.
“Like I said, it was a long and arduous journey.” He discards his old shirt by chucking it aside, and lays back on Noodle’s bed. She wonders what could have happened on such a journey, and where he acquired the shirt and jeans that definitely aren’t his— he wouldn’t be caught dead in a light wash unless it was dire straits.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll share more of the story when Russ and 2D get here. I don’t want to repeat myself.”
Noodle climbs into bed, tossing half the blanket over Murdoc, but he pushes it back to her.
“No thanks, love, I’m gonna be too hot. You want me to get the light?”
“Sure,” Noodle says, and Murdoc reaches up to switch the lights off. He settles back in, turning over onto his side, facing away from her. Noodle bundles herself in the blanket, and curls up in the same direction.
“Goodnight,” she says.
“G’night, little chickie,” he replies. “‘S’good to be back.”
Noodle smiles at the back of his head and lets her eyelids droop once more, tucking both her hands under her cheek instead of holding her katana at the ready. Tomorrow, they have to start the agonizing process of cleaning up the carnage of the studio they call home. Perhaps she’ll stumble across another rogue zombie stuck in the basement. There’s also the matter of procuring groceries— of which are scarce in the studio— and cleaning the biohazard out of the fridge to store them, but that will be a problem in the morning. For now, she is no longer alone, and a shred of normalcy has returned. Just in time, exactly when she needed it desperately. Though Murdoc’s snoring has often been a maddening component of sharing a tour bus or a hotel room, it is a sound she never thought she’d be happy to have to sleep through, and right now, it’s music to her ears.