Stuart Pot

Rachel Pot's slim arms gently wrapped themselves around her ten year old sobbing heap of a son, her hands pushing his small head into her warm chest.
"There now, baby boy.." She whispered, scooping him gently into her lap as if he were a toddler again. "Dry those lil' tears and calm down." Her fingers gently raked themselves through the young child's newly tainted azure locks of hair, her own words becoming slightly clogged as tears welled in her eyes as she stared at the boy's bright hair. "Tell mum what's up, darling."
The young Stuart Pot sobbed harder, hiccups punching at his thin, bony chest. "Th-Tha other kids keep laughin' at me, ma.. They call me a f-freak 'cos of me hair..." 
Rachel sighed softly as his hands clung to her shirt, bundling into tight clumps in his spider-like fingers. "They're bound to, darling... Silly children like them think change is a bad thing."
"But they used to be me friends!" He wailed, face scrunched up tightly. "But now they c-call me 'fick and a blue headed loser. I ain't, am I, m-ma? I ain't stupid like 'dey say?"
Rachel momentarily winced. She had known that her beloved son had encountered brain damage from his fall from the tree, the very same one that had made his hair naturally grow back the shocking deep blue that he now adorned, but she had hoped it wouldn't be noticeable for his sake.
"Ma?"
Rachel shook her head.
"Of course not, my baby." She gently kissed his pale forehead, noticing the feverish temperature embedded into his skin. "Now that you're.. "different", they think it's fine to take the mickey out of you... And it's not. I'll go in tomorrow and speak to your teacher, okay darling?"
Stuart mewled slightly as he pressed himself into her soft chest that always made him so safe and secure.
"Okay, ma..."
"Darling, you're running a horrible temperature."
"I am? I do have a really, really, really bad headache"
"You are?."
"Can I have some of dem painkillers, ma?"
"Sure, baby."

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2D blankly stared into the shadowy corner of his room, the constant hush of the ocean surrounding him in his underwater prison of his room. He plucked agitatedly at the pillow that was wedged between his jagged chin and bony knees. He nervously jiggled his leg and clenched his eyes shut as he heard the momentous rumble of that damn whale slowly streak past his window. As the sound slowly waned into nothing more than the thrumming of 2D's own heartbeat, the terrified vocalist slowly opened his eyes which, to his ignorance, were bleached a bright milky white, like shining orbs of moonstone gems that eerily matched the pale flush of his skin.

"Why c-can't it just sod off.." He mumbled softly to no one in particular, turning to glance at the small porthole. "There's no w-way I can get away from 'dis damn place anyways.." His hands quickly jerked the ruby red curtains closed, and the darkness of the ocean depths disappeared, leaving his cluttered room a strange shade of purple. He flicked on the lamp nearest to him and it pooled light onto his arms, giving 2D a brief sense of relief. He fell back onto his bed, dropping the pillow to the floor. The sailor cap he ironically wore slid from his hair, spilling his cerulean locks onto the pillow beneath him.
"Point Nemo ain't exactly a stop for busses..."

His voice seemed to echo throughout the room, driving 2D into small shivers each time he spoke. While he wanted to hear the sound of his own voice to console his loneliness, he couldn't help but notice how it seemed to press down on himself, expressing the singer's seclusion to the brink of insanity.
"... I wanna go home!" He suddenly wailed, eyes clenching shut as he pulled the blanket over his face in despair. He didn't know which home he meant, since Kong Studios were not an option and his normal family life seemed like a distant memory. He felt something stab at his chest, a deep, sour feeling rising in his throat, bitter as bile. He felt so alone; so confused..

So very broken.

The mentally damaged singer curled up tightly, finally on the brink of breaking down after all of these fragile years. He was so close; the darkness was closing in, devouring him, corrupting him...

"Stuart-san. Do you hear me?"

2D flinched, eyes fluttering open as he stared at the cyborg standing in the doorway. In the darkness, her silhouette resembled the real Noodle to an almost painful level for the vocalist.
"Leave me alone, Cyborg.. Please... Not today, I just..." His whole body shook, teeth chattering as he trailed off. "Can't.." He finished in a barely audible whisper. 
The cyborg's head tilted, and she slowly walked over to the convulsing male in her steady stride. The soft grind of her metallic limbs beneath her prosthetic skin only made 2D flinch further into the bed, pushing himself against the wall.
"My systems indicate that you are distressed, and the remnants of the real Noodle's emotions tell me that I should comfort you."
2D flinched at the mention of the "real" Noodle, his heart dropping.
"But I have no way to comfort you, for my systems are not programmed that way." She twitched as her said systems awkwardly worked against each other at the humanoid emotions. 2D sat up slowly, eyes morphing into a glare.
"I've t-told yew... Leave me alone..." He shuddered as a flash of her lit eyes flashed through the prosthetic hair that softly fell over her forehead. 2D almost had to hold his hand back from touching the hair and stroking it back from her eyes like he used to do with his Noodle.
She twitched again, mouth opening. "Stuart, please respond positively to me.." Her perfect hand reached out, and he grit his remaining teeth, letting out a quiet hiss. He trembled again, the room blurring around him. "I want your touch... She wants your touch-"

He finally broke.
 
Before she could finish her sentence, 2D had grabbed her hand and pulled it hard, ripping it from the rest of her arm.
"LEAVE ME ALONE, YEW FAKE BITCH!" He suddenly stumbled to his feet and shoved her down as she writhed on the floor, oil pooling from the broken end of her arm where sparks spat into the black liquid. 2D expression twisted into an angry scowl, and before his delicate mind could come to any sense, his foot came smashing down onto her chest, and the crunching sound of her  metal encased ribcage rang through the room.
"Systems... Fail.. ing.. emergency l-l-lock down... Initiated..." 
2D stared down at the suddenly still cyborg, and he took a sharp intake of breath as he watched the oil pool around her, the strong scent pricking at his nose. His shoulders slumped as his conscience slowly returned, and he stumbled back onto the bed as he stared down at the mess that was Cyborg Noodle. He suddenly let out an excruciating sob, shoving his hands over his mouth. In the faint light of the room, the oil almost shone a red, resembling real blood.. Resembling his Noodle .. 
"Noodle!" He sobbed, voice cracking as his twisted mind played with his reality. It was that day... He was watching her die all over again... Watching her plummet as he stood helpless.. Except now he could see what she looked like... See what she laid like, a broken mess..

Before he could let the images plague his head any further, he slumped to the floor and his skull smashed against the bed frame, the room spun and...

Darkness.

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".... And what the FUCK did you do ta her, ya sodding DULLARD! She's practically DESTROYED!"

2D blinked. What happened? As he dizzily lifted his head, he saw the blurry figure of Murdoc lumping Cyborg's body over his shoulder.
"I should bloody kill you, ya useless pile of trash. Do you know how hard Cyborg Noodle was to make? No. You don't. You just mope in ya' stinkin' hidey hole of a room and pretend everythin's fine."

The vocalist blinked, staring at the raging Murdoc as he lugged the dripping body to the door. 
"She's gonna take DAYS to repair, Faceache... You better be damn well prepared when she returns because you AINT' gonna be on her "BFF list". Trust me on that, ya stupid waste of space."
2D blankly watched as he left, still grumbling to himself. He stared down at his oil stained foot as he tried to recall what had happened, unconsciously rubbing the newly formed lump on the back of his head. 
"..." His gaze shifted to his night stand, and he reached out for the bottle of pills that sat forlornly under the soft glow of the lamp.