Disclaimer: I claim absolutely no rights to anything in this story, save for the idea to write it. 2D, Murdoc, Plastic Beach, and pretty much everything in here belong to Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett. All the song lyrics I use in this story belong to Gorillaz, unless otherwise stated.

Chapter 1: Broken

Today was the day. 2D was going to face his fears and escape Plastic Beach. Screw the whale. He didn't have to leave in a submarine (where the big, stupid marine mammal could easily swallow him whole). Maybe he'd find a boat. Or, if he could hide long enough outside somewhere, he'd just make one out of the plastic rubbish Plastic Beach was named for.

2D didn't exactly have a talent for making rafts out of rubbish, but hey, there was a first time for everything. And how did he know if he didn't try? Besides, it sounded better to him than sitting here all day, waiting for Murdoc to send for him (his voice, rather, because that's all he was to Murdoc apparently). Or for the whale to gobble him up.

2D stared at one of the walls in his underwater room, nervously licking the gap where his two front teeth should be. Yes, he'd just make a boat. Out of, er, well out of wood of course! Or maybe there would be a... a flat board for him to float off on. He could use his shirt as a sail! And he couldn't really be that far from land, could he? Murdoc had said they were the farthest point on Earth from any land mass, but surely 2D could hold his own for a few days before someone found him drifting on his makeshift boat, right?

... Yeah, he was doomed.

No! He was resolute in his decision! He had convinced himself yesterday, before going to bed. All he had to do was wait for Cyborg to bring him his lunch like she did every day at Noon sharp, and he'd ambush her, just like he planned.

But then... Cyborg was heavily armed. She could shoot bullets out her mouth for hell's sake! What was he thinking!?

But that's what the bucket of water was for, he reminded himself. Everyone, even 2D (who, putting it kindly, wasn't the brightest crayon in the box) knew electricity and water didn't mix. Not well, at least.

So, just get behind the door, wait for Cyborg to deliver him his meal, and splash her in the face! Brilliant! 2D wasn't a big-headed bloke, but he thought this might just be his best idea ever.

Confidence slightly renewed, the singer took a deep breath and got out of his bed. If there's one thing he's miss from all of Plastic Beach, it was the comfort of his bed. Murdoc had made sure to give a nice blanket, and a soft, welcoming mattress...

2D stopped in his tracks. He had to remind himself that the Murdoc he knew was gone. He'd been replaced by an even more evil version of himself. He was hardly even human anymore. The Satanic rituals and evil deeds and ego had all taken their toll on the bassist. He'd grown into something dark, something far beyond anyone's help.

Surely if 2D though his bed was always just the right amount of soft, and the covers provided just the right amount of warmth, it was by no fault of the slippery Satanist.

As 2D took his position by the door, his thoughts drifted to happier times. For instance, way back when Murdoc didn't have to kidnap 2D in order for him to sing in their band. Or the time when Murdoc hadn't built a cyborg replacement for Noodle, and basically abandoned Russel. Or all those times Murdoc didn't lock up his singer in an underwater room with a bloomin' whale peeping in on him all the time.

Bloody whales...

No... There had been gentler times. Even if Murdoc had always been happy to give 2D a black eye or another bruise or scar to match the ones he already had... Even those times were still better than now. Now, all Murdoc was was a slithery old coward, taking shortcuts and killing people and making dirty deals to get his way. And this time, his way no longer seemed to include the majority of his band.

2D could remember a time when Murdoc had called them family.

I should have told him, he thought suddenly. I should have told Murdoc how I felt about him. Maybe, just maybe, I could have prevented this.

But it was no time to think about yesterdays or should-have-been's. 2D was going to get as far away from this prison as possible. He could hear his victim heading towards his room now. So he crouched down and prepared to attack.

2D tensed as the soft click-clicking of Cyborg's boots drifted closer and closer to his room, doubt once again poisoning his confidence. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the bucket of water. Shaking, he crouched even further into the shadows beside his door, awaiting his chance.

The knob turned. The door cracked open. Cyborg's boot stepped into the room. 2D hoped the darkness would confused her, or at least conceal him from her vision for just a second longer. Cyborg took another step into the room, opening the door just enough to give 2D a good look at what lay beyond his room. He could just make out some metal catwalks for floors, and metal walls. And... That. Over there, that tube-looking thing. Was that a lift? Brilliant.

The Cyborg version of Noodle swung the door open just a crack more, already beyond suspicious, but it was all the singer needed. 2D jumped up and tossed the water at the Cyborg, yelling out his fear and desperation, his eyes closed.

After the initial splash, there was no noise. Thinking his plan had worked, 2D peeked through one eye to survey the damage.

Cyborg Noodle was standing in his doorway, drenched all down her front. Droplets of water slowly dripped down her face, running through her fake hair and falling to the floor with little plopping noises. One of her eyebrows was raised, as if to silently ask, "Really?"

Then she moved. Angrily throwing the small sandwich she'd brought 2D aside, a machine gun popped out of her arm with a click and she aimed it straight at the singer's face. 2D let out a (girlish) scream, diving for his bed and shoving himself under the covers as if it was bulletproof.

But the rain of bullets never came.

A shaking 2D slowly raised his head out from under his covers and glanced at Cyborg. She was standing still, her face frozen in a furious gaze. Then she gave a twitch, making 2D jump. Electricity buzzed as the wires in her head shorted out, frying her mechanical brain. With a last shudder, the Cyborg fell to her knees, holding her head before slumping to the ground.

2D blinked, trapped in a daze. He then smiled and made a noise only he could pull off. A small, "Ha!" accompanied by a proud smile. That smile sank as it slowly dawned on him what exactly he'd just done. He'd just taken out Murdoc's prized Cyborg. He was definitely in for it now...

Wait a minute, no he wasn't! He was gonna break out of here and leave that evil bassist behind. He wouldn't have to worry about what Murdoc wanted to do to him. He wasn't going anywhere near that bastard ever again.

Besides, he reasoned, it was Murdoc's fault for not making his robot waterproof even though they lived on a plastic island in the middle of the ocean.

2D jumped out of his bed for the last time and ran right out the open door of his prison. The only way to go seemed to be in that tube-like lift he'd seen earlier. He slammed his fist into the only button: Up.

The doors opened with a chime, and 2D stepped into the lift. Beside the doors was a panel with many different buttons. He scanned the names quickly (Roof, Master Bedroom, some Patio) and found the one marked "Entrance." Or, in 2D's case, Exit.

He pressed the button and then leaned against the wall of the lift. Nervousness began to eat away at him as the lift lurched upward. He felt like he did back in high school, when his friends would shoplift and he'd feel his blood boil with shame and guilt, even though he had never done it with them. He hated that feeling, the fear of being caught doing something even if what you're doing isn't technically wrong. He hadn't been stealing back then and he was only escaping his kidnapper now, so he shouldn't feel like he was breaking the rules.

But upon shoving his feelings of shame deeper within him, he realized that there were plenty of things to fear. What if he ran right into Murdoc on his way out? What if the door was locked? What if he couldn't find or build a boat?

He tried to put these questions aside. There was no going back now, anyways, and even though these were perfectly reasonable things to worry about, there was no used fretting over them if he couldn't do anything about it. The lift was moving, and there was no way to stop it now.

Suddenly, though, it did.

2D was thrown without warning against the opposite wall as the lift abruptly skidded to a halt.

"What the-?! No!" 2D cried, his blood beginning to churn. The single light bulb in the lift twitch in and out of life, introducing darkness to 2D's "Steadily Increasing List of Things to Fear"

1) Murdoc
2) Broken Lifts
3) Dying
4) Murdoc
5) Whales
6) Darkness
7) Murdoc

2D frantically began to press all the buttons. Anywhere on Plastic Beach was better than being trapped in an elevator. He bit his lip with the teeth next to his missing front ones. His fingers blurred as he jammed the different level choices.

"No," he whispered, "No, no, no!"

Just then, the lift lurched once more. It rose instead of fell, which 2D thought was at least one good thing. He sat down this time, though, for good measure.

The lift stopped at the second-to-highest level, marked "Study - Studio." The doors shifted open with an innocent ding, as if it hadn't almost heartlessly taken his life. Abandoning all hope of proper escape and just happy to be out of that cursed lift, 2D toppled onto the floor of "Study - Studio" and kissed the smelly carpet beneath him.

The lift doors closed behind him, and the singer was brought back to his senses. Hadn't be been trying to escape? Well, that plan was surely ruined now. And it hadn't been going as bad as his plans usually did - that is, until that stupid lift broke on him. The way he saw it, getting slapped around by Murdoc was far better than death.

2D stood up from the carpet (which, like everything else on Plastic Beach, smelled as one would expect - like melting plastic and fish) and took a look around.

Before him a few paces was a wooden writing desk. A feather quill and parchment sat waiting to be used on it's surface. Along with those fairly reasonable supplies, there also happened to be a giant salmon colored squid on Murdoc's desk as well. And it was sporting a rather fashionable sailor's hat. 2D blinked and moved on. This kind of stuff no longer phased him.

In fact, the whole room was filled to the brim with all manners of knickknacks, strange collectables, spills and messes, piles of movies, and stacks of papers that desperately needed filing. A bookcase was tucked into the wall to the right of the lift, and beside that bookcase was another door.

2D knew his escape plan had failed, or perhaps he'd forgotten about it. But either way, he figured he couldn't possibly get in any more trouble than he was already in for. What with the repairs Murdoc would have to make to his precious Noodle copy, and the fact that 2D was effectively snooping around his study.

So, 2D thought, it couldn't hurt to take a look around. He could get to know the place a little before he was discovered, punished, and sent back to wait in that horrid underwater room where the whale could get to him. Be free while he still could, as it were.

He went straight for the door beside the bookcase, wondering where it would take him. It opened to a well-lit room. Wide windows allowed 2D to, for the first time in days, get a good glimpse of the sky.

But there was so much more than that in this room. With a jolt, 2D remembered what else was supposed to be on this level, and a smile came to his face. So, this was the recording studio that Murdoc had built right in to Plastic Beach.

Amplifiers and outlets and instruments of all sorts had been scattered around strategically in the room. Cords lay in tangled heaps, connecting machines to each other. Hundreds of little knobs could be tuned to any exact sound you could dream up. Guitars and basses lined the walls, speakers sat waiting to pump music on full blast. And, 2D observed with an appreciative squeal, keyboards of all sorts and sizes were strewn about everywhere.

As hard as 2D tried to ignore them, the memories flooded in. A tiny Noodle jamming away on her guitar. Russel laughing at Murdoc's drunken impersonations of celebrities as he absentmindedly tapped his symbols to an unheard beat. Himself, gripping a mic with shaking hands as they recorded their very first song, Ghost Train. Back when Paula Cracker had still been their guitarist. Back when he hadn't been sure of how his voice sounded, despite constant complements. In the end, he remembered, it was Murdoc who'd convinced him to stop worrying about it.

"Shut up, face-ache," he'd said, "If your voice is good enough for my band, it's good enough for the world to hear. Now stop looking so glum, nobody likes an emo ponce."

2D found it funny that he'd still prefer the Murdoc who constantly insulted and attacked him than the Murdoc who kidnapped and planned to use him.

He perked up at a faint sound, coming from below him. It sounded like a door slamming, but he couldn't be sure. Sometimes Plastic Beach just made those kinds of noises. Metallic grinding sounds or rumbling, distant noises like rolling waves. It was, after all, a great heap of trash. Whatever this noise was, it snapped him out of his trance.

2D didn't know how much time he'd have left before he was discovered, but he figured he'd probably have the most fun in here. The studio was overflowing with keyboards just waiting for him to play. God, how long had it been since he'd even picked up an instrument? Far, far too long, he decided, choosing one of the smaller ones that lay perched on the edge of yet another desk.

The singer made a grab for it, but stopped himself when he saw what lay beside this particular keyboard. Music sheets, and tons of them. There were a few stacks of them. One stack seemed to be just blank pages, the music not written on them yet. There were two other stacks beside this one that looked like they were being worked on or reviewed.

Was this the music Murdoc had written for that new album he'd been talking about?

It couldn't hurt to look, 2D reasoned with himself. After all, he was going to see them anyways, right? He was the singer, and unless these were all instrumental pieces (which was probably not the case, since Murdoc went through the trouble of kidnapping a singer, after all), he thought it was his right to view them.

Before he could convince himself otherwise, he reached for the first sheet on the second stack, careful to remember which pile it had been on so as not to mess up Murdoc's careful organization.

The song in his hands had been heavily abused. It was going through some sort of identity crisis. It's name had been crossed out and rewritten so many times that it probably didn't know who it was anymore. If it had been anything to start with. To find out, 2D glanced down at the lyrics, which had also been fairly scribbled on, and began to read.

Distant stars
Come in black or red
I've seen their worlds
Inside my head

They connect
With the fall of man
They breathe you in
And dive as deep as they can

As usual, Murdoc was right to boast of his skills. His songwriting was impeccable, the lyrics full of meaning and yet subtle like mist. They demanded nothing of the listener but for them to listen, and even that seemed like just a suggestion in this song.

2D glanced at the notes on the music sheet, trying to pick up the tune of the music. Within seconds he was humming a medium-paced melody that rose and fell like the waves on Plastic Beach's shoreline. After a few seconds, 2D adjusted the hum. He slowed down the tempo and lowered the pitch, making the melody a relaxing and softer tune than it was designed to be.

He hummed his new tune to himself for a bit before he had it down, then he looked back at the lyrics. Waggling his finger to keep the time, he started the song over so he could sing the lyrics.

"Distant stars," he sang, "Come in black or red... I've seen their worlds," a slight adjustment to the length of pause between the lyrics here, "Inside my head..." He drew out the ending of that word, letting his vocal chords do what they did best.

Pretty soon he was lost to the world, changing the song just enough so that it went from sounding slightly upbeat and ensuring to downright melancholy and dream-like. It fit the words perfectly, he thought. Then he took a look at the chorus.

Broken.
Our love.
Is broken.

They were so simple, just a handful of lyrics that he could hold with one hand. Yet even as he drew them out to fit his custom melody, they always read the same in his head. As if someone was saying them out loud, softly, whispering them into nothing. For a second, the song stopped being a song. It was just words, the melody and tempo gone but the music anywhere but.

"Broken," he said, speaking them out like he read them, "Our love... is broken..."

Murdoc, he thought. Murdoc wrote this.

How? How could someone so filled with hate and evil write something this beautiful? How could Murdoc write these five little words that seemed to touch him right where he thought he'd shut him out from forever?

Maybe, thought 2D, if he can still write something like this... Maybe he's not entirely gone yet. Maybe he still feels something.

Even though 2D wanted to know who the song was for, he knew it didn't matter. If these lyrics were anything to go by, Murdoc wasn't as big of a heartless monster as 2D thought. There was still a part of him that felt something, and that idea, that beautiful little spark of hope was enough to bring a warm smile to 2D's face.

A/N: So I originally intended for this to be a one-shot, but I realized I could go on, if you guys wanted me to. Either way, I'm quite proud of this, so don't be afraid to tell me what you think. Every bit of feedback is greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoyed, and thanks for reading!