A/N: Diabeetus fluff, for Omi, who is and shall always be my Nathan. I LURV J00, LADY! This glorious fiction was inspired by role-playing and Elvis, who shall be quoted within. Jebas, I procrastinated on writing this! It should have been finished months ago…Anyways, read, review, and enjoy!

~Larien~

Sunken, hollow faces with empty eye sockets, their maws open wide in silent moans. Withered, claw-like hands scratching and tearing at any piece of him they could touch. Raspy voices calling out to him from the darkness. He was responsible for this. He was the one who lead his friends to this hellish existence. They knew it, just as well as he knew it. They told him they knew. They whispered it sometimes during the day. They screamed it every night in his dreams, should he forget to drink himself to sleep. They would not leave him alone. They would not let him rest.

It started off innocently enough. Sammy snuck up on him, draping his skeletal arms around Pickles's shoulders and whispering in the redhead's ear, his words marking the tempo as his sticks had done years ago. Bullets came next, circling around Pickles's body, alternating between high wines and low growls, creating an ethereal melody of maliciousness. Last but surely not the least, Tony sauntered up to press a mocking kiss to Pickles's lips just before he pulled back to drive their message home in a yell to rival his thundering bass lines.

They wanted their vengeance.

Pickles sat up straight, eyes wide and chilling beads of sweat coating his body. He had forgone hard liquor as a means to sleep. Hangovers were not conducive to the recording process. However, neither was nightmare-induced sleep deprivation. He drug his hands slowly down his face and groaned, contemplating his next move. On the one hand, if he drank, the specters of his former band mates would leave him be. On the other, he'd have the mother of all headaches to endure as he recorded his drum tracks tomorrow. The redhead hazarded a glance at his alarm clock, which read 2:47 am. Today, then. Glaring at the alarm clock, he rasped out, "Ya jest lahve me, don'tcha? Mother doosh beag clahck…"

Clad only in his underwear, the drummer hauled himself out of his bed and began pacing his room, again turning to pondering his next move. No matter what he chose, tomorrow would be a living hell for him.

Suddenly, Pickles's world fell out from beneath him. He hit the floor with a muffled THUD! and saw stars for a couple of seconds. He sat up and muttered a hearty "Dammit ta Hell!" and glared at the empty beer bottle as it bounced off of his nightstand and rolled back towards his foot. Not feeling inclined to stare down the bottle all night, he hauled himself back to his feet and headed determinedly for his door. He didn't know where he'd go, but he was not staying in his room tonight. Besides, Mordhaus was his house, just as much as it was any of the other guys' house…

In another area of Mordhaus, Nathan had just shirked his clothes and crawled between his sheets, thankful that Insomnia wasn't rearing its ugly head at him. He wanted to get an early start on the drum tracks tomorrow so they could get them finished and hopefully push the release date up. He knew Pickles wanted to get them over with just as badly. The thought of the little redhead immediately pulled the front man's lips into a wide grin. Along with this grin came the memory of the last time he'd been alone in the recording studio with his drummer. With this memory, Nathan felt the stirring beneath his waist. Immediately, his grin flipped upside-down and a growl escaped. "Not tonight, damn it!"

The raven-haired man threw himself back against the pillows on his large bed and stared at his ceiling. He'd never get to sleep now. The soon-to-be raging hard-on would see to that. He briefly considered ignoring his body's demands, then thought better of it as an image of his nether regions exploding flashed through his mind.

Just as he closed his eyes and began seeking a quick release, Nathan heard his door fly open and a tentative voice call out, "Nat'en?" His eyes flew open to reveal that Pickles was staring at him.

"Uh…H-hey? Um…" Nathan couldn't seem to force useful words out. He wanted to tell Pickles to get naked, but something on the drummer's face told him that now was not the time.

Pickles averted his gaze as realization dawned on him. "'M naht, uh, inneruptin', am I?" he asked quietly.

"N-no!" Nathan answered quickly, his hands flying out from beneath the sheets. "I, uh…was just…yeah…" He then recognized the look on Pickles's face: fear. The smaller man was never afraid of anything. He usually fought tooth-and-nail, and Nathan considered him one of the most brutal men he'd ever met. What could have him so frightened?

"C-c'n I…uh…C'n I stay wit' you?" Pickles asked in a whisper.

Nathan's features softened significantly and he patted the space beside him, carnal needs be damned. He smiled as the older man darted to the bed and scrambled to get as close to him as possible. "So…How come you're here? In my room? Not that I don't like…it…" Nathan winced, hating the gravelly tone of his voice and the stupidity dripping from his words.

Pickles shrugged. "Didn' wanna stay in my room. Started walkin'. Ended up here." He snuggled closer to the younger man. He felt so childish for leaving his room because of a nightmare. It's not like a dream could physically reach out and hurt him.

"Hm," Nathan grunted. He rolled over so that his back faced the smaller man, still a bit embarrassed at being caught with his dick in his hand. Of course, a light touch on his shoulder had him immediately rolling back to face Pickles.

"Nat'en?"

"Yeah?"

"Sing fer me?" The redhead hated how afraid he sounded. But if he had to show fear in front of anyone, Nathan was the perfect person. He was big enough and strong enough to fight off the nightmares.

"What…uh…What do you want me to sing?" Nathan silently begged the Powers That Be that he wouldn't have to sing a lullaby. He didn't exactly have the voice for those.

Pickles wiggled as close as he could to Nathan, who, in turn, wrapped his arms around the redhead protectively. "Sing me dat one by Elvis. 'Love Me Tender'."

Nathan shifted a bit uncomfortably and replied, "I, uh, don't…I don't know the whole thing. But…I'll sing what I do know. But then you go to sleep! Got it?"

"Yeeuh, gaht it, chief," the older man murmured.

The dark-haired man sighed and hesitated a moment. Then, as softly as he could, he sang, "Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go. You have made my life complete, and I love you so. Love me tender, love me true, all my dreams fulfill. For my darling, I love you, and I always will." After he finished, he looked down at the smaller form in his arms. His singing had apparently done the trick: Pickles was sleeping peacefully. And so Nathan whispered, "I meant every word," before drifting off into his own dreamland.

Had he watched a moment longer, the front man would have caught the smile on his drummer's lips and heard him whisper back, "I lahve ya, too."