Love turns, with a little indulgence, to indifference or disgust; hatred alone is immortal.
William Hazlitt

Chapter 1: Hello, Is This Hell? Your Spawn Is Broken

The walls trembled when something as humongous as a landslide of cupboards, guitars and heavy metal objects hit the floor in Murdoc's room. It took a split second for 2D to appear, hand raised in the air about to knock on his door, that concerned expression of a faithful puppy on his face. His jaw dropped in bewilderment when the bassist's door flung open and he came falling into the singer's hands. He stumbled backwards as he struggled to keep the man in his arms from plunking down on the floor. Murdoc grabbed 2D by the collar of his shirt:

"Call the ambulance, Stu-Pot, I'm dying," he said in a tense half-whisper, let out a groan as he attempted to curl up in 2D's embrace but conscious left him as he released the collar.

2D was stupefied. He stood there, his face flushed lobster red, blinking as if trying to chase this phantasm away. He carefully laid the lean satanist on the floor, grabbed his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and dialled 999. Stammering as he asked for help, all the while staring at Murdoc with no idea of what to do 2D felt how quickly panic overwhelmed him. With the operator's guidance he did all he could and waited for their rescue, now and then checking Murdoc's vital signs.

The snow-white corridor stretched for what it seemed like miles, illuminated by blinding lights. The air was filled with the smell of disinfectant, coffee, clean scrubs and the voices of unnecessarily jolly nurses. 2D was sitting in a chair, violently bouncing his leg and throwing indignant glances at the smiling staff. He looked like a rebellious youth in his jeans, green converse shoes and a black shirt with a miscellaneous print. One of the nurses noticed how innocent and miserable he looked - washed out face and bags under his black eyes with furrowed brows from a throbbing pain in his head - and asked whether he was alright. All 2D managed to do was nod and stare back at the phone he was fidgeting in his hand. It was off. Neither Russel nor Noodle should know anything. Not now, while he was in the dark himself. "'e called me Stu-Pot." 2D reflected, feeling as his cheeks began to burn. A bittersweet smile spread across his face. "It's been a while since 'e called me that. I wonder what's wrong with'im. Knowin' 'im, 'e won't ever tell anyone…"

As the doors of the operating room opened 2D perked up in his chair watching as the surgeon turned into a corridor. He was a rather tall man of Asian descent. Springing to his feet 2D ran after and almost bumped into a nurse.

"Doctor, uh…" he squinted as he tried to read the nametag, "Dr. Ukagawa, can I please speak to you somewhere private?"

"Of course, sport." The doctor spoke with without an accent; he looked exhausted as he gestured 2D to follow him. "You're the one that came in with the man I just operated, Mr. Niccals?"

2D gave an eager nod as if his life depended on convincing the white-coat man in front of him. They soon entered the spacious surgeon's office.

"What can I help you with?" the doctor sat down at his desk and pinched his nose bridge tiredly.

It was obvious how he could help 2D. Both of them knew the answer to the question. 2D sat on a chair in front of the desk without an invitation. He felt light-headed and subconsciously prayed for this conversation to be over to take some pills as Dr. Ukagawa assured him that Murdoc's condition isn't life-threatening and that 2D should go have some rest and visit his friend tomorrow. No, he could not tell him more because of the doctor-patient confidentiality agreement, only the patient's family was allowed to know.

"But doc, I am 'is family. 'e ain't got any other."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Pot, was it? But I can't tell you more until I receive written consent from Mr. Niccals."

"W-would this make you reconsider?" 2D stammered as he put several hundred pound notes on the table. One of the things he learned from the bassist over the years. "Remember this, dim-wit, when all else fails – bribery is the way to go, that's what I always say," Murdoc would boast, inflated with self-importance after weaselling out of a tight situation.

"Mr. Pot this is chapter 23 of the 2010 Bribery Act, do you realise I can get you prosecuted?" the doctor glared at the melancholy-stricken singer. "I don't care who you famous people are, government laws are for everyone to ob-"

2D put four more notes on the table. Dr. Ukagawa sighed and shifted in his seat.

"If I will tell you, will you promise me to keep silent about what you know and how you got to know it?" he articulated with meaning all the while looking fixedly into 2D's shallow eyes. He skilfully removed the bank notes with his right hand into a drawer without even looking at them.

2D nodded happily, hopeful smile beaming on his lips.

"Alright. You will be the first to know. Even your friend doesn't know the details yet." Dr. Ukagawa glanced at the gap in the front row of 2D's teeth and began rubbing his temples. "Mr. Niccals had a severe heart attack. The main artery was clogged 95% and the good news is we had it successfully operated. It seems that this wasn't the first time he had a heart attack, it's very common among men; they don't pay attention to the symptoms or don't even notice they had one in the first place. Now as for the bad news: we will run extensive tests to assess the heart's condition to be certain, however from what I've seen, for a man of forty seven - his heart is in extremely bad shape. I can speculate that he won't last longer than five years, two if he doesn't change his lifestyle. As soon as the tests are done and results confirm our theories, Mr. Niccals will be offered to be added to the waiting list for a heart transplant."

" 'eart… transplant?..." 2D gulped involuntarily. He sat on the edge of the chair, hands firmly clutching his phone as the information sank in. "C-can I see 'm?"

"I'm afraid not. We will conduct a series of examinations in the morning but you can come see him tomorrow in the afternoon for a short while. Heart attack victims need a lot of emotional rest, especially the first few days."

2D's migraine intensified as he thanked the doctor and went out of his office, staggering slightly like a drunk man on a foggy night. The pills will take time to work and there was such a long ride home ahead of him.

Things went at their usual pace in their London flat. Russel was playing video games and Noodle was upstairs in her room playing her guitar.

"2D, my man. What's up?" he greeted the singer who threw himself on the couch next to him.

"Murdoc's in 'ospital," 2D said vacantly.

Russel raised his eyebrows and paused his game.

"Say whut?"

" 'eart attack." 2D murmured as he stared straight in front of him, the painkillers finally kicking in and a peaceful mist beginning to envelope his whole body.

"Whoa! Are you for real?" Russel didn't wait for an answer as he knew 2D would never lie. "That's messed up… And he ain't that old either. How did it happen?"

" 'e came out of 'is room and collapsed right as I was passing through the corridor. I'm going to see 'im tomorrow afternoon. You with me?" It seemed to him that he was retelling the contents of a dream. He was drifting into that euphoric haze that he never wanted to leave.

"Aw, man, Imma feel like shit for this, but I've gotta meetin' arranged in London tomorrow with two outstandin' rappers I was dreamin' to get to collaborate with us. I'll try to come back in time before visitin' hours close, otherwise I'll go see him the next morning. You gonna tell Noodle about it?"

"Russ, could you do it for me? I don't feel so well myself." 2D stood up wearily. It looked as if he would collapse right there on the floor. He slouched off towards his room.

"Sure, man, no problem. Get your rest."

"Thanks."

"I thought I said NO BLOODY VISITORS!" Murdoc yelled at the nurse as she let 2D in.

"Please don't take longer than 10 minutes, alright? The visiting time restriction will only last a few more days," the red-head nurse purred to 2D, completely ignoring Murdoc and left the room.

Murdoc was scrutinising the wall which was the opposite of where 2D stood. He felt worse than naked in this flimsy hospital gown and the general fact of being plugged up to an array of medical equipment was duly troubling his masculinity. His tired face was pale-green which made the redness of his eyes and black bags under them more profound. He displayed an edgy air of stubbornness and sullenness.

Ever-cautious 2D came closer to his friend's bedside yet far enough out of his reach.

"I gots you som fruit to make you feel betta," he remarked bashfully, putting the small fruit basket on the bedside cabinet and sat down on a chair. As he didn't expect a reply from Murdoc, he continued, "You gots us all worried, Muds. Russel and Noodle said they'd come see you today, too."

At those words Murdoc's choleric disposition spilled out on his face. He gritted his teeth and hissed, his gaze still drilling through the wall:

"Why not call the newspapers, so the whole world knows…"

"Why, Muds I don't need ta do that, it's all ova the news already!" 2D replied gleefully only seconds later realising that that's not what his friend wanted to hear and his expression became that of a beaten dog.

Murdoc clenched his fists and growled at 2D to get out. The singer's heart sank. He slowly trudged to the door with drooped shoulders and looked back at Murdoc. " 'e didn't even look at me once..." The bassist heard 2D sigh meekly as the door shut silently behind him.

As soon as 2D was gone, Murdoc felt his anger and irritation morph into a heavy form of desperation and disgust towards his own frailness that made him want to let out a soul-chilling wail. "Fuck's sake, look at you. Such an emotional sod, all of a sudden!" he spoke to himself, trying to contain the over-brimming feelings. "Satan… why is this happening to me! I'm the immortal Murdoc Niccals! IMMORTAL, YOU HEAR?"