Phase 3:

Point Nemo, ? 2010.

"To the dark, dark sea..."

Plastic Beach, Plastic Beach.

2D had always known Murdoc was a bit cruel. A bit sadistic, a bit ruthless when it came to getting what he wanted, a bit scary, but not mental. It was only now that it was beginning to occur to 2D that he may have lost it. Gassing him, kidnapping him and locking him up on a desert island, telling people he was on a meditation retreat, was more than a bit scary. It was like one of those awful cases you read about in the papers that no-one forgot about for decades. 2D wondered if it would influence the album sales in any way.

They'd been so...so naive, thinking the Demon Days period was their darkest album, their bleakest hour, and that things could only get better. Plastic Beach was the worst. No Noodle. No Russel. Murdoc gone too far. The fucking whale.

Murdoc dragged him out occasionally to sing, and sometimes even kept him out all day, having lunch with him or sitting on the beach with him between recordings. At these times, 2D met the other inhabitants of the island. Murdoc casually mentioned Tattoo's martial arts expertise, and similar threats about Big Rick and Dave, but he needn't have bothered. 2D knew they were all paid to do Murdoc's bidding and wouldn't go against him for the world. He was trapped here. He was so fucking lonely, as well. No-one to talk to, and he couldn't even keep a diary anymore since Murdoc decided to read it and use it against him. He glanced at the window, were the whale was usually lurking, bitterly. He wouldn't be surprised if he started to lose his own mind.

It was even worse at night. 2D supposed it shouldn't make a difference, being underwater anyway, but somehow it did, it made things much worse. He just knew. Away from any natural light, no space, he felt he was stagnating down there. He hadn't moved more than the seven or eight steps the room permitted him, and he knew Murdoc had him monitored so he couldn't try anything. It was a good thing he didn't give two flying fucks about the album, as he hadn't had a creative urge or thought for days.

Murdoc disturbed him then, making 2D start as he stuck his head around the door without warning. He approached, looking irritated.

"What's wrong with you? I'm sick of seeing you moping. Why don't you sing or something, make yourself useful and do what you're actually here for..."

2D switched off. If this island had given him anything, it was Murdoc's ability to not give a fuck rubbing off on him at last. Though Murdoc himself was a little on edge lately. Still, he literally didn't care. After all the rehab, all the careful weaning off his meds, it was so hard not to take what Murdoc gave him. His old, normal amount just waiting to take the feelings away. Murdoc, oblivious to his progress, gave him enough to last fortnightly, and 2D was collecting quite the little stash. It was probably enough for everyone on the island to top themselves, he thought morbidly.

Murdoc had cheered himself up by switching from his rant to their album, its themes, the undertone he was going for. He was looking at 2D sort of expectantly. It normally didn't take much for the younger man to chip his opinion in whether it was warranted or not.

"Come on," he commanded suddenly. "Up."

2D complied warily. "Where?" What now?

"We've got a fucking island to play with, mate! There's no need to be in your bedroom when we could be on the beach, or in the submarine, or..."

2D didn't bother pointing out that he was being imprisoned against his will. He did protest meekly, "Not the submarine," and Murdoc conceded. He was feeling claustrophobic enough as it was.

And that was how they ended up in the lighthouse at two in the morning. And 2D had to admit, in spite of everything, it was rather beautiful. In the moonlight, the island looked like a shimmering, alien heaven. The waves were hypnotically calm in the dark, and the fact that it was all rubbish was just unbelievable. The experience was almost a little eerie.

"It's something special, isn't it?" Murdoc's voice came quietly from 2D's side. He started fumbling around with his phone, and played the half completed Plastic Beach tracks. "D'you miss girls yet?" he asked suddenly. "If you could bring a bird here...hell, you wouldn't even have to say anything, would you? Just look at that and you'd both be away..." He began roving around under one of the desks until he produced a keg of beer. 2D took his with no intention of drinking it.

"What's up with you?" he asked suddenly, startling 2D a little with the abruptness of his tone. "It's not like you were happy before I 'napped you."

"How would you know?" he returned before he could stop himself. He averted his eyes from Murdoc's narrowing ones, feeling childishly bitter and entrapped. The waves no longer looked calm but mocking, an insult to his mounting blood pressure.

"And what is that supposed to mean? I know you, D. I know you weren't happy. Whatever shit you were trying wasn't working. So I brought you here to do what you're born to."

"I said no," he snapped.

"And I knew better." He took out a cigarette, and spent a while attempting to light it with his water-damaged lighter. He didn't offer 2D one.

"I'm not happy here, either," 2D muttered, already feeling defeated. He didn't bother explaining about the whales. It was nothing Murdoc didn't already know. Plus, he just couldn't do confrontations very well. Especially not with someone who'd had so much practice. He wondered whether Murdoc could see the subtle difference in him now that he wasn't on the pills. He'd had periods of clarity before, he'd had real conversations with Murdoc before. He was being difficult now, and Murdoc knew it. Maybe he could see it.

2D had his own theory that he wasn't planning on sharing; for Murdoc, Demon Days was far from over. Murdoc had come here, to the most secluded point on Earth, because of his demons. He managed to sound cheerful and even charming and somewhat pleasant on their broadcasts, but 2D knew Murdoc too, and he wasn't happy. He was going to fight his demons or just spend some quality time with them, 2D wasn't sure. He just resented being caught up in the middle of it. He didn't really want to consider why. Murdoc just drank and said very little else.

Over the next few days, however, 2D began to waver a little. He still hated this, but he couldn't help getting into the album. It was an escape, if nothing else. He had been reflecting on this while writing lyrics, singing Plastic Beach very softly under his breath, when he felt the beginnings of a migraine. He tried to ignore it and carry on, in the manner of a child not wanting to leave a birthday party regardless of how tired he was, until it began to get worse. He looked at his notebook longingly. He'd been enjoying himself, but he knew better than to try and continue. Replacing the cap on his pen, he lay down on the bed and sighed, lids fluttering closed, hoping it would be a brief one. Plastic Beach was still stuck in his head. The fucking irony, as Murdoc would say.

A little later, he heard his door open. Murdoc never knocked. He'd never knocked in Kong Studios or in hotels, not for 2D anyway, reasoning that if he was paying for the property, he could go wherever he liked whenever he liked. 2D opened his eyes warily, waiting to be dragged from his bed and pushed into the lift, but Murdoc only stood in the doorway looking idle.

"Alright," he said leisurely. "You want to come up for a bit?"

2D blinked, and wondered if he'd heard him right. "To the studio?" he said uncertainly.

"Well. If you want. I'm not in the mood, to be honest. I was thinking more TV and beer and maybe a pizza, if you're good."

2D's brain felt thick and muddled, but he understood an offer to get away from the whale when he heard one. He sat up too quickly and was rewarded with a sharp stab to his temples, making him wince and still again.

"Migraine?"

"Mm. Don't think I should drink," he mumbled. His eyes sought out the window automatically, and he experienced a brief wave of nausea when he saw that it was back.

Murdoc didn't notice. "Come up anyway. I'm fucking bored, man. The weather's too bad to have anyone flown over, and fucking Tattoo and Dave are on holiday. And it's not like Big Rick can pop round for a chat." He sounded more vehement as he went on, as if he were the one who had been kidnapped and forced to live here.

2D processed it all slowly. "On holiday?" he echoed.

"I know, after a few months of work! It's a bloody joke!"

"With each other?" he asked dubiously, before Murdoc could work himself up to a fully fledged rant.

"No!" He was chortling now. "Fuck, can you imagine? No, come on mate, let's go up...it'll do you good to get out of here for a bit."

2D looked up suspiciously at the change of tone, and noticed Murdoc was flicking through his notebook as he spoke. "That's not finished," he said quickly, wanting to snatch it back.

"It's not bad." 'Not bad' was high praise from Murdoc, and despite everything 2D couldn't help experiencing a little flicker of pleasure at the praise.

And then it was gone as quickly as it came. "Come on, let's go," he commanded.

2D was led into an enormous, luxurious bedroom with an amazing view. He stood there and felt, for what felt like the first time in a good while, resentment. Not fear or shame or embarrassment but real resentment. Here Murdoc was in his fucking master bedroom while 2D was in the basement with that thing looking in on him...It was like the last kick in the teeth. Murdoc didn't respect him, he never had. If it hadn't been for his migraine, 2D thought he might have even gone for him. He shuddered at what could have happen if he had.

"Banana?" Murdoc offered, snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Why didn't you tell us Noodle was OK?" 2D blurted it aloud without meaning to, and felt as surprised as Murdoc looked. He didn't want a confrontation, not now, and those kind of questions brought it scarily close.

Murdoc didn't seem to feel argumentative either. "I did tell you," he said neutrally.

2D swallowed. He couldn't let it go now he'd started. "At first, I mean."

He snorted. "You can't keep a secret to save your life, D. And Russel was liable to blurt something out with his psyche going haywire and all that."

I can keep a secret. I never told anyone you kissed me. I never told anyone you were stone cold sober and fucking kissed me and used your tongue. Out loud, he said lamely, "You still could have told me. You could have forced me to keep it a secret. You make me do whatever you want all the time, so you could have done that." He ducked his head.

Murdoc was barely listening to him. "Anyway, she is all right, OK? Everything's all right. It's a shame we couldn't all be involved with this one before it was wrapped up, but it's mostly me anyway, and things might be different for the next one."

Something Murdoc had said earlier had filtered through 2D's brain. "The album's finished?" he echoed.

"Hmm."

"Then why are we still here?"

Murdoc looked at him then, and 2D flinched inwardly with fear. "Because I'm not ready to leave yet," he said steadily. "OK?" He continued to look into 2D's eyes as if daring him to challenge this.

He knew it was futile but he asked anyway. "But can't I leave?"

"No." He turned back to the TV and said casually, "I might think of a B side, or something."

"But you could call me whenever and I'd come straight away- "

"Leave it, D," he said sharply, and 2D left it. "It's not so bad here," he said, after a bit. "I won't lock you in your room any more. You can go anywhere you want on the island. Move rooms, if you want, if the whale's such a fucking problem. Just don't do anything stupid." He narrowed his eyes at 2D. "No phone calls or emails or any of that shit. Because I will find out and make you sorry. Understand?"

"But why- "

"Never mind why!" He snapped. Then he breathed out and said more quietly, "You're not leaving til I say we're done. Understand?"

"Yes," he said quickly.

Murdoc relaxed, and they both went back to the TV.

2D's migraine gradually got worse. As a result, he hadn't touched any drink, and Murdoc had had half a bottle to himself. 2D suspected it wasn't his first. "I think I need to lie down," 2D said eventually, about to stand and leave for his room.

"Go on then," Murdoc said, gesturing at the rest of the bed.

It was big enough. Tiredly, 2D did as he was told.

"It'll probably pass soon," Murdoc said grudgingly, in a half-hearted attempt to be comforting, sounding as he always did when 2D was in any kind of pain or discomfort; like it was his own fault.

2D lay still, watching the flickers in front of his eyelids. He knew he was slow, but surely even he would know if Murdoc was...? No, it was ridiculous. But then, years of taking 2D's girlfriends, saying stupid drunken stuff, admitting he thought he was good looking... And of course, then there was the kiss. The elephant in the room.

He played it over a thousand times in his head, confronting Murdoc in the studio, in the kitchen, in his room, and just coming out with it; "Murdoc, why did you kiss me that time in Osaka?"

Murdoc would deny it, even though they were both sober and knew it was true. And then Murdoc would tell people 2D said that and mock him, until 2D himself would begin to have doubts. It was just the way Murdoc was. And why was it so important? Because 2D had fucked it up. He had run away. And Murdoc probably didn't even think about it anymore. It was probably for the best if neither of them ever thought about it, but it still hurt that he had blown it.

"Murdoc?" he blurted.

"Mm?"

He swallowed. He might as well now. "You remember that time we were in Osaka..?" He couldn't see his bandmate's face from where he was lying, but he felt him stiffen. They lay in silence for long moments, the only sound coming from the television.

"Yeah?" Murdoc said, surprising even himself with how casual he sounded. "I wondered if you'd ever bring that up." He took a drink to reward himself.

2D's voice came timidly, "I thought you might have forgotten."

"I thought you might have, with your fucking brain. But there we are."

"Yeah. Um. Why...?"

Murdoc drummed his fingers lightly on the bed and stared at the television. He could feel an energy bubble up within him, and knew he couldn't act on it even slightly or he would end up either fucking or killing 2D, right now. "Don't worry about it, D," he said lightly. It seemed as good an answer as any. He had all the time in the world on this island, and he'd sort out this shit in his own time, on his own terms, not 2D's.

So 2D had brought it up. Murdoc had been expecting it, especially in 2005 when 2D had suddenly decided to grow some balls. But then his dad died and that took the wind out of his sails a bit. He was quite drunk. It was nice of 2D to set the wheels in motion for him. Pity he had a migraine at that moment, but they had all the time in the world. Murdoc hadn't brought him to the most isolated point of the world for nothing, after all. Tomorrow, providing 2D was properly recovered, he would indulge 2D and watch Pirates of the Caribbean with him and give him run of the island. But tomorrow, tomorrow he would have it out with 2D, all of it, and they would take it from there.