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RUSSEL FIC

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You know what I noticed? Russel never gets enough love. Neither does Del. And, while Del is gone, Russel is still here, and he needs more love. I'm sorry, 2D, Muds, and Noodle, but the big man here needs the spotlight.

So, I made this fic.

Don't Get Lost in Heaven

Chapter 1: Bus

PG-13

Summary: Part 1 of 4 chapters. In the middle of phase 1 and 2, Russel seeks to rid himself of Del, who has long overstayed his due. The reaper is waiting- and Russ can feel it.



*You can read the story here or click here.*

Got off the plane to the country sound,
I drove to the mountain and a hole in the ground
There was crack on the corner and someone dead,
and fire coming out of the monkey's head

Don't get lost in heaven
They got locks on the gate
Don't go over the edge
you'll make a big mistake

Put me in a cab to suburbia
I just took a line but it wasn't with you
There was more of it there, when I got back home
But you had left me,you don't know my soul...
You're a hoe girl
Yeah you're a hobo

Aaaah...- Don't Get Lost in Heavne, Gorillaz


Don't Get Lost in Heaven

Chapter 1: Bus

PG-13

Summary: Part 1 of 4 chapters. In the middle of phase 1 and 2, Russel seeks to rid himself of Del, who has long overstayed his due. The reaper is waiting- and Russ can feel it.


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Russel bleakly noted that the bus had arrived, his white eyes glazed over. They were two huge, white orbs, unfocused and shining with fatigue. If people say that the soul can be seen through the eyes, one would see a weary, weary soul in Russel Hobbs, the drummer of the band Gorillaz.

Not anymore, at least. Gorillaz had parted their ways- Noodle to Japan, Murdoc went to Mexico, 2-D to his uncle, and Russel... here. He had just stayed in LA, after the movie production had fallen apart. He didn't have the heart, really, to go back to New York or to Kong or anywhere, really. These days, Russel felt like he didn't have much of anything short of hallucinations and scattered thoughts.

He picked his heavy body off the bench, the old thing creaking softly from the sudden loss of weight. With each step towards the bus, Russel felt his body draining of energy. With a grunt, the man placed tokens into the dish before taking a seat in the back, his hands on his knees and the top of his head resting against the seat in front of him. He mumbled something softly to himself, words that weren't his own that spewed from his lips.

"R-r-r-russel, daawg, we can get throoough this." He sounded like a broken record, skipping over certain words. "Through through through-"

"Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up..." Russel growled back, his voice a little louder then the first one that had spoken through him. The bus driver looked back at him through the mirror, and was met with a inhuman growl. He smartly continued to drive.

"Russssss," Russel couldn't stop himself. The words poured out, escaping his mouth even though he tried to repress them. His energy sapped with each moment he barred the ghost inside him , and with a grunt he let Del continue talking.

"Russs, we can g-g-get over this."

"Shut the fuck up, Del. We both know the Reaper is at your door- our door. You need to go. It's time. It's time."

Russel felt the spirit rage, protesting his words. Of course not, he could feel the ghost say, the reaper is not here. How long have we been through together? We can make it, Russel. And Russel nearly laughed, because Del's words used to calm him, that when he felt that odd scratching against his mind, when he said it was nothing but his imagination he was content. That ghost was his buddy, his home boy, that guy you swore you'd know 'til the day you died.

Or he died. But even then, death dosen't always cut off the links.

When Russel saw his stop with bleary eyes, he pulled on the cord above, and the Greyhound screached to a halt. Only when he was walking halfway down the block did he realize he was mumbling, over and over to himself:

"It's time. It's time. It's time."


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The shootout happened quite a long time ago. After that haunting day of the shootout, when all his friends were killed, he had a total of ten spirits living in his head. Scruff and Vernon were the first two to leave. They said that, 'It was time', something like that- Russel couldn't remember. Another left soon after that. Karl disapeered suddenly, and only when he had awoken in a damp sweat, still tired, did he realize that durning his sleep someone must have left his body. Three more left, quietly, just simply fading out in a way that made Russel feel quite mortal. Taeqwon fought for awhile to stay. He needed to, 'Help his dawg, yo, 'cuz if that Murdoc tries to mess you up, well, shiiit, what the hell am I gonna say back home when they heard yous got beaten by a damn fag.'. (Nevermind that home was in his body, and in remembrance, Russel almost always remembered that bit.) But he eventually left, leaving him just a little bit emptier. Jamie and Rodney, the two twins, left after nearly a week of silence. They seemed to just move, silent, a queer act for the usually noisy twins. And they said 'Bye', and were gone.

"Del?" The twins had left the day before the whole band, frazzled and feeling annoyed, gave up on the movie. Russel felt sick to his stomach. The whole band now was bickering, over where they should go, should they start a new album... He felt his insides twist. All he wanted to do was set his mind straight.

He felt Del tear most of himself away from him, leaving only a small thread of ghost stuff- a life preserver, if you will- still attached to Russel. It wasn't a physical, seeable thing, but if you squinted and had the right eyes you could see a light blue mist trail from Russel's head. The blue ghost hovered above him, scratching the back of his head. His dreads swung in a nonexistant breeze. He seemed to be a lighter blue, with even more of his teeth fallen out.

"Yo, Russ man, how's it goin'?" Del asked, giving him a cheerful smile. Russel scowled, his arms crossed and pressed tight against his cheast.

"It's no time t' talk like everything's all-fucking-right. The twins left..." His arms closed tighter around himself, and he shivered. Del looked at the man sympathetically.

"Aw, maan, I know. I'm sorry. Some... ghosts.." The spirit struggled to find words. This had happened before- almost like an unwritten rule, ghosts and things that haunt could not give too much information about the dead. Whether there was something that inhibited the spirits from saying certain things, or maybe just a unified agreement not to mess up Russ anymore then he already was, nothing major ever came from them. "Some ghosts, well... they stop wantin' to stay. Not like Rodney and Jame wanted to leave you, jus' that they had too."

Russel sighed, pacing the hotel room that the band had rented. He shared one with the young, japanese-speaking Noodle, making sure she got what she needed. Murdoc and 2-D had their own rooms. Del sat on Noodle's bed, idly squeazing a Poke'mon toy until it's eyes threatened to burst out of it. The quiet lasted a few minutes, until finally, the spirit spoke up.

"Russ, man, so I guess... iss jus' you an' me."

"Why ain't you gone too?" Russel burst out, disregarding his question. Del gave him a queer look, putting Noodle's toy down before walking back over to Russel.

"You want me too, man? 'Cuz I can. Hell, I could've gone that day a bullet went through my cheast- jus' up to heaven, shit, or hell..." That wry smile so common for him crossed his face. "Y'know, we're never told, if we go to Hell or Heaven or not?"

Russel shrugged, grunting a bit. "No, no, I dinnit... Del? Stay on track. You never answered it. I don't want you gone. I jus' wanna know why you not with everyone else-"

"'Cause I'm not, alright? Fuck, Russel, aren't you just glad that I'm not gone?"

Russel tried to pat the spirit on the shoulder, but his hand went through him. Blue skin fizzled like a TV screen. "Hey, man, calm down. You know, you're my dawg. My home boy!"

Both of them laughed at that, though Del rather faintly. He was getting tired. He needed to be back in Russ's head soon.

"I'll kill the god damn Reaper if you ever have to go, Del. So don't sweat it. We'll make it through."

Del gave him a small smile, before returning to the drummer's head. He blinked a few times, his body readjusting to the other spirit, who was moving around and making himself comfortable once more.

'Thanks, Russ. Always together, righ'?'

Scritch scritch scritch. Russel felt something scratch in his mind. And it wasn't Del. It was something more...

"Yea, Del. Always."


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Author's Note: I remember when I first heard the title of the song, 'Don't Get Lost in Heaven', I first thought of Russel and Del. How crushed he must be, losing his best pal, y'know? So I made this little fic, split into four parts, of Russ's exorcism and stuff. TOUCHING! Anyway, if you're looking for funky ghost Russel sex, THIS ISN'T THE STORY FOR IT.

Anyway, comment please. Next chapter is longer. Also, I'm taking some liberties with Russel here and his ghostie buddies. Also, want to make note that in chapter 3, there will be an OOC because Russel does need Del exorcised, and, y'know, you need a priest for that, kthxbai.

Notice: Nothing belongs to me. I do not claim any character, plotline, anything.
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