Chapter Text
The car was parked in a shitty neighborhood in Fresno, and you all waited in the dark silently for Noodle to return. You were sleepy, again, and getting sick of trying to stay awake and on guard, sick of the lack of conversation in the car now that 2D was asleep, and really really sick and tired of trying not to touch Murdoc.
The man was unkempt, wiry, literally sickly looking, with teeth that could rend flesh and a smile that could shatter mirrors, a laugh like a donkey braying, and stank of day old sweat.
To be fair, everyone in the car stank of day old sweat. 2D smelled like he'd run a marathon.
But you didn't want to wrap your arms around 2D's neck and kiss him senseless, now did you? No, that confusing bubble of emotion was reserved for the Great Green Leader. And by comparison 2D was so nice! Adorable, even, given the way he'd smiled excitedly when his suggestion of 'burgers and chips' was actually agreed upon by the little cult.
"Have yew ever had a burger?" 2D had asked you.
You definitely had, but nonetheless had found yourself saying, "I don't remember," simply because the guy looked excited about the prospect of showing you something new and enjoyable. He'd gushed about some west coast burger chain that apparently made 'the best grilled cheese known to man' and you'd found it easy to smile at the dark eyed man. He was obviously trying to keep you calm and entertained in the face of all the weirdness going on, and you appreciated that.
But no. It was the Murdoc who was keeping you deliciously uncomfortable and unable to just fucking relax.
And now, in no-fucking-where Fresno, you were still leaning against Murdoc, watching 2D asleep in the backseat next to you, listening to Russ drum his fingers on the plastic of the door handle up front. The night was warm, and with the windows down the sounds of a nearby freeway was all the white noise you needed to feel tired. You blinked at sleeping 2D, wondering how long it would take Noodle to get a new car, and how she'd do it, and if all of these people knew how to hotwire a car. That would be a useful skill to have, honestly. You wondered if they could teach you…
Murdoc's arm tightened around you fractionally, and you jerked slightly when you realized you'd been nodding off.
"You can sleep, you know," His whisper was low, it wouldn't carry to the other's given the noise outside.
You shook your head, "I can't just nap through all these absolutely thrilling adventures we're having."
Despite feeling the laugh in his chest you barely heard the noise.
"I can wake you if anything exciting happens," he volunteered.
"Oh, I'd rather not come to in the middle of any more excitement for a bit here, thanks."
"Enough of that for now?"
"Maybe a lifetime," you said dryly.
Nearby 2D snored once then turned his head, face hidden by the dark of shadows.
"I'm gonna stretch my legs," Russel said, and his voice seemed far louder than it needed to be, particularly when compared to the hushed conversation you'd been having.
Russ swung out of the car and shut the door with surprising care. 2D snored again and turned away. Murdoc shifted, and you closed your eyes, leaned back to let your head loll against his shoulder.
"You seem to be holding up alright," He sounded a little surprised, maybe impressed.
"Yeah. It's a lot and I can barely stay awake, but. Sure. Alright."
"For what it's worth I don't think you're the antichrist," Murdoc said lightly.
"Because you've met him?"
"Got it in one."
You smiled, and really looked at his hand where it rested on your arm, fingernails too long, palm too rough, tendons standing out on the back even in the dim light of streetlamps.
"I should be more freaked out by this," you mused, then glanced up. He looked surprised, maybe. "All of this"
"You aren't freaked out?"
"No," that wasn't a lie. You were scared and angry and resentful, but you had a plan. The silence stretched while you considered your words before saying, "My hair is cult-pink, my skin changed colors before it went back to this one, I can't remember details about my life but can remember the broad strokes and… I'm hearing voices. When I sleep."
Murdoc nodded, "So you're not staying awake just to enjoy my charming personality."
"It's just a bonus." You weren't surprised that Murdoc took 'hearing voices' in stride.
He huffed that quiet laugh again. "Tell me about your favorite bands," he said.
He was trying to distract you. You let it work. The two of you were able to keep up a hushed conversation about music, and they were a band so that made sense. What was surprising was how Murdoc listened to your opinions and even agreed with many of them. The band was a cult, after all, and you'd assumed they'd be elitist pricks about it. Your conversation kept you busy, and content enough, and it passed the time. It was also nice to find that you remembered bands, songs, genres.
"See, I knew before we met that we would have loads in common," Murdoc grinned, and you blinked, wanting to ask why he thought that, but before you could speak a car pulled up beside your own.
"Is she awake?" Russ appeared in the window suddenly, leaned back into the passenger's side of the car. Noodle followed, eyes sharp, assessing you from the other window.
"I am," you said.
"Let's go then," Noodle popped open the door beside 2D and shook him gently. "Up, Toochi. We need to move."
"Right, right, sure," 2D clambered out of the car with the aid of Noodle. "Yew didn't get pillows or anything did you?"
"No, Toochi. We'll get a hotel soon."
Murdoc quickly opened the door, let himself out, and began to walk around the other car, which looked to be a van. It was probably stolen. You shuffled out of the car, legs feeling like limp pasta, and watched as 2D did the same looking just as much a pile of elbows and knees as you felt.
2D met your eyes for a moment, offered a weak smile, "I hate sleepin' sitting up."
You nodded, and the two of you were the first to climb into the new vehicle. There seemed to be five seats in the back, two squished together beside the sliding door and three as a bench in the back. You made a beeline for the back corner, and 2D followed you.
"Mind sharing?" He asked.
"Oh. No, but I can sit in the middle row if you want to stretch out back here-" you began, but he waved his hand then paused.
"I mean, you're welcome to sit there, you'd be able to sit next to Muds," he trailed off.
You considered your inexplicable want to sleep in the creepy cult leaders lap and shook your head slowly, then spat pink hair out of your face, "Back here is fine. I could use the space."
"Oh," 2D bit his lip with uneven teeth. "I can sit up there wif him if you want some privacy-" he looked miserable at the prospect.
"No, no, just space from. From Murdoc. I should get to know each of you, really, if we're going to be stuck together," the sentence trailed off as you remembered that you were essentially a prisoner to a cult and there was really no need to sugar coat that to one of the cult members.
2D didn't seem to notice your hesitation and smiled anyway.
When the door next opened and Murdoc peered into the car he narrowed his eyes fractionally at the sight of you and 2D on either side of the back bench.
"I'm gonna drive for a bit. You good back there sweetheart?" Murdoc's voice dripped honey despite his obvious desire to glare.
You were once again struck with two strong overlapping emotions, and you realized this had been happening ever since you were, well, born? Born again? You tabled the internal debate regarding the semantic for now.
Because right at the moment you could feel a flip in your stomach, a lip-bitingly good flare of affection and maybe a little lust, all over being called 'sweetheart.' It made you want to giggle, and nod, and do things that would make Murdoc call you all kinds of pet names. Just to the left of that emotion was a wave of frustration at the name: he was acting as though he knew you, liked you, as though he even cared how you were! It was the lingering revulsion for a thousand strangers and a thousand catcalls echoing down a lifetime and it made you want to bash Murdoc's face in.
The two emotions were perfectly balanced, wrathful frustration and simpering servitude, and it left you in the lurch, without an answer.
"As good as a maybe-kidnapping victim can be!" You managed in an intentionally chipper tone. Your mouth was smart even without your own volition and you were immensely pleased with that answer, even though you knew you were supposed to be playing at complacency.
Murdoc's look soured, but he didn't reply beyond a nod, then withdrew from the van doorway. You could hear his voice, and Noodle's, pitched low outside the van. Closer to you and much more intelligible, 2D spoke.
"I thought yew were good wif the plan. The laying low and whatnot." He looked worried.
"I am," you said, then sighed. "I don't know where I'd go if I could go anywhere I wanted, only… I'd like to have been given the option."
That was a lie: you knew exactly where you'd go once you left. To be fair the plan was just 'Albuquerque' right now, and not even because you thought you were from there or anything: it was because you knew you needed a goal, you were in the USA, and you had a memory of Bugs Bunny mentioning Albuquerque repeatedly. Good enough. You'd added black hair dye to the menta to-dol list, and a haircut, but beyond that it was just head to New Mexico and lay low once there.
Once again you wondered if you would be objectively 'better off' on your own, but decided it didn't matter, you had to get away from these people, that was rule one around cults. Escape.
Even from 2D, who was currently looking guilty and tired and patting at your hand ineffectually.
"It'll be fine, honest. We've been together for over twenty years, you know? And weird shit happens all the time, but it always turns out alright, honest. There's no way you're a mesopotamian demagogue of death," he smiled.
"Thanks," you nodded, feeling surprisingly comforted despite his specificity. Your hair once again ended up in your mouth, and god damn it, this much hair in this bright a color was downright inconvenient.
"You should braid it," 2D said. "I can help."
"You don't mind?"
"Nah, I used to braid Noodle's hair when she was little. Before she shaved her head," 2D made a spinning motion, gesturing for you to turn, and so you did. "I fink she was about 12? She wanted it out of her way, so I learned to french braid it, but I guess she figured shaving it off was easier. Murdoc had just introduced her to the Buzzcocks, so she was havin' a bit of a phase."
You tried not to tense up as 2D's long fingers carded through your hair, detangling it gently.
"Is she your..?" You weren't sure what noun to use.
"Nah, she showed up in the post," you could tell he had shrugged without looking back. "She was like eleven or twelve? Played wicked guitar already. We tried to be good brothers, I guess, or dads. But she didn't know any English at first so she sorta raised herself."
Showed up in the post? None of this was making you feel better about this being more of a band and less of a cult.
"Done," 2D said moments later. "I don't have a way to tie it off, but if we sorta-"
He tugged at your hair, fingers sliding under the braid along your scalp, and threaded the end through the middle somehow.
"Looks like hell, but it'll stay outta yer face."
"Thanks," you said, and turned back around to face him. He looked exhausted, black eyes dull with deep dark circles around them. "You look… Not great. Are you okay?"
"Off my meds," he said, and before you could be startled he amended that. "Migraines, from some head trauma. Two, no, three times I guess? Anyway, I've got a few left, but no idea when we'll be able to get more. Gonna hold off unless it gets real bad."
"This isn't real bad?"
He shook his head, then winced.
"What can I do to help?"
"Ta, but nofing," 2D closed his eyes and leaned against the backrest.
"You can lay down, if you like," you said. "Put your legs in my lap, I don't mind."
"Fanks."
2D didn't open his eyes beyond a crack as you tapped his shin, but did swing his feet up and over your legs. He was so tall that this still left him mostly upright against the van wall, but his face seemed slightly more relaxed. After a few moments Noodle climbed into through the side door of the van, glancing at you both in the back before she settled in the middle row. When 2D made an uncomfortable expression, back pressed at a bizarre angle, she dug around on the floor and passed back a wadded up sweatshirt.
"Toochi, here. Not as good as a pillow, but it's something."
2D smiled without opening his eyes, and jammed the sweatshirt under his head, sighing against the fabric after a bit. Noodle was staring at you intermittently, silent as the car shifted into gear and Murdoc could be heard fucking about with the radio. Once on the highway again you glanced to 2D, saw he was somewhere close to sleep, and caught Noodle's eye.
"He said he's low on meds," you whispered.
"Yeah. Shit. I'll get him more once we get to a hotel."
You tipped your head slightly, wondering if she would steal them, and Noodle glared as though she could read you mind.
"You're all very unflustered," you smiled, trying to gentle the words, explain away your own reserved attitude.
"We've been doing this awhile."
"The cult thing?"
Noodles eyes glittered in the dark and you thought she almost smiled, "More or less. Last time it was teleportation. Before that a commune at sea. Before that, oh… Zombies, I suppose."
2D shifted restlessly at the word, and both you and Noodle were silent for a time while you watched him settle.
The sodium street lights outside seemed brighter, and when you glanced out the window you saw that a fog was rolling into the valley, leaving the road in a tunnel of reflected glow. Murdoc had slowed the car and turned the music down to swear about the visibility.
"I can't tell what's real," your voice was quiet despite the levity you were trying to project.
"All of it," Noodle said as she turned away, facing the front of the car. "Cult, apocalypse, zombies. Robots, well, really only one robot so far. Kidnappings, and this is our third? Fourth?" She waved a dismissive hand above her head.
You weren't sure if she was trying to scare you, or impress you, or something else, but even over the top of her seat you could see she was sliding headphones into her ears and apparently closing her eyes, so the conversation was over. It didn't matter what her intent had been, you were too tired and frustrated and hungry to care, stuck in the back of the van with the two cult members who had decided sleep was more important than giving you useful information.
You watched 2D sleep for a long time, watching the lights wax and wane as the fog outside rolled in waves, as the street lights flared bright and faded. The sodium lights were pink-red, the quiet murmuring of Rus and Murdoc in the front seat almost soothingly, and 2D's legs were heavy and warm across your lap, calming you. It was like waves of light and darkness, waves of pink and black, washing up on the windows of the bus, like the bus was sinking, like a submarine, falling, flying-
You blinked once, slow eyes tracking up at 2D, to find that his eyes wide open and staring at you. Where once they had been an unnerving but consistent white they were now an icy void-black, unblinking, unfeeling, and you abruptly realized the light outside the car was steady on his face. Steady and pink.
Somehow his eyes looked like he was smiling, but not a trace or it made it to his lips.
"2D..?" You heard yourself ask, and wished you hadn't, because you knew he wasn't.
"Not really," the hissing dark voice you'd heard before between waking and sleep now slid from 2D's lips.
But that was definitely not 2D.
Oh yeah, fuck that, fuck this, fuck everything: this was not okay. This was not just hearing a little whisper in the dark, this was not simple audio hallucinations, this was the dark eyes and cocked head of an alien intellect using someone you knew as a fucking meat puppet from beyond the very great beyond. And that meat puppet was very close to you, so close, with long legs trapping you, and you might be panicking slightly.
"Hey now, don't you scare my precious little baby," said the high haughty voice from the middle seat, and from above the middle seat rose Noodle's head, earphones quickly being tugged from her ears as she knelt to lean over the seat between you. Suddenly the legs across your lap seemed even less worrying, because her hot pink eyes were an obvious sign that Noodle was very much so not herself as her mouth smiled. Unlike the dark one, the smile was ONLY on her lips.
Rock, meet hard place.
"Hello baby, my precious little creature! Just look at you!" The thing inside Noodle cooed and reached out to stroke your cheek. You held very still. The thing, Pink Thing you decided (because you might not like Noodle much, but this Thing felt nothing like her) pouted at you when you didn't reply.
In your peripheral vision, because you were absolutely not able to even GLANCE away from Pink Thing, you saw that the front of the car was hazy, out of focus. It was just you and the two Things. Monsters. Gods.
"Gods is not inaccurate," the Cold Thing in 2D said, and you felt yourself shiver because you were certain you hadn't spoken.
"What-" You began.
"-The fuck, right?" Pink asked, bubbly and gleeful.
"... Yeah," you nodded.
"Oh you precious confused little dumpling, aren't you just to die for? Look at you, pink and confused and all aflutter! Well never you fear, your mother is here to reassure and adore you."
Cold Thing snorted.
"Well. Okay, reassuring and adoring is new to me, fine," Pink amended.
You didn't want to know, but you had to ask, "Am.. Am I… The antichrist?"
Cold laughed.
"Well, not exactly-" Pink said, glared at Cold, then went on in the most saccharine voice you'd ever heard. "Sweetie, for now don't worry so much about the apocalypse thing. It's not about that for you, you're getting a second chance! And for all the best things, the most fun things!"
Cold shifted his legs minutely, and you felt as though that was intentional. You didn't glance over at him.
Pink's body language was all wrong, all performative, and the Thing went on, "I know you've been confused, but think about it: caviar and champagne, lavish parties, all the best music, all the best clothes, all the best drugs. You have a chance to do all the things you couldn't in your last life! Don't fret so much love, it breaks my heart."
Cole's legs shifted ever so slightly. It grounded you.
You felt the wave of anger you'd been repressing for a day wash up like the pink in your periphery, and heard yourself say, "Not that I'll be able to compare 'the best life's to anything since I can't REMEMBER my last life."
Cold seemed amused by this.
You felt bold enough to ask it, "Who ARE you anyway?"
Pink looked disappointed, "Precious, I'm your mother! Is this any way to treat your mother? I made you, I shaped you, I set you tottering on those little leggies into the thick of life. Must I be so interrogated, so ill loved?"
"We're gods," Cold said, and slid his legs off your lap. He was winning you over just by being less insufferable. You didn't like his answer, though, and he could obviously tell, so he went on, "Not the only ones, to be clear. Just some of them. Just the ones you'll have to worry about. There are lots, we're the locals, as it were."
What did they want? What had they done to you, and who were you, and why were they here, and why the color pink for fucks sake- you had to many questions.
"Why me?" Was what you said.
"I chose you, sweet one: I knew you were special from the moment I saw you. You had a spark," Pink said in reply.
That was a useless answer, like every thing she'd said, and you looked to Cold for something more. Anything more. You didn't know 2D well enough to really know his expressions, to know his little quirks and what his eyebrows did when he lied, and things like that, but you thought he looked a little sad.
"Wrong place," Cold said with 2D's lips. "Wrong time."
Pink made a dismissive noise before you could feel anything about that answer, "Right place, right time! You were so much nothing, you were over, you were about to be kibble in a wood box. Boring! Isn't this better than that?"
"Again, I have nothing to compare to," you said. "Maybe if I could remember-"
When Pink snarled, making Noodle's face ripple and twist in a way that human skin over a human skull shouldn't have been able to, you saw too many blunt teeth snapping like a steel trap. She'd flipped from candy-sweet to bile rancid like a coin flip, and you froze.
Beside you the Cold god sighed, "Give her a break, she's only mortal."
Then Pink was smiling like nothing was wrong, like she hadn't just been fraying around the edges of her fake humanity, and said sweetly, "He's right. I'm sure it's a lot to take in, precious."
"Yeah," you nodded.
"The important thing to know now is that we've put you here in the perfect place, at the perfect time. Just relax have some fun, and stick with Murdoc," Pink gently brushed your hair behind your ear with fingers that were way too long to be Noodle's.
"With Murdoc?" You felt a pavlovian relaxation wash over you at the name. Murdoc might have been a weirdo, but he wasn't a Thing, a Monster, a God. He made you laugh, at least.
"Mmmhm, the green one," Pink purred, and then added low, "The sexy one, the one you want. It's meant to be, sweetness, it's fate, it's kismet, it's divine will. Just give it some time and you'll be happily living the high life before you know it."
Both of Pinks hands were in your hair now, and those long fingers carding the waves had long nails on each one. You decided to keep your mouth shut, thinking of greener hands distantly.
"What a good girl," Pink cooed.
You wanted to laugh or cough or jump out of your skin, but the hypnotic drag of claws in your hair was soothing, like your mother's hairbrush through your hair, like the soft affection of a parent comforting their child. You felt your eyes flutter closed, the waves of pink outside the vehicle lessening, more dark than light.
"Stay with the band, stay with the priest," Pink was saying.
You nodded, felt a soft brush of her fingers as a reward for your agreement.
"I'll tell you where to go, I'll tell you when you move, just be good, convey my words, and you'll have the whole world, little one…"
It was dark now, your eyes closed, the soothing touch of hands in hair lulling you down, down. While you felt the other one, the Cold one, shift your legs until you were laying down you didn't have an opinion about it. You were drifting away, in your mother's arms, save on the backseat,
"Be gentler," the Cold one seemed to say very distantly. "Their minds are fragile."
"Sh, she's mine, she can endure it. She's perfect. She'll be perfect," was the last thing you heard as you drifted to sleep and away from the weird gods and the pink ocean.
The overwhelming wave of contentment and pride that hearing those words instilled in you almost entirely overshadowed the seed of rebellion in your heart.
Almost.