Disclaimer: Metalocalypse doesn't belong to me. I have no association with it. All rights go to Adult Swim, Brendan Small and Tommy Blacha.
Warning: Bad language and guy love if you squint. A wise man once said "If you can't open your mind, don't open your mouth." So no bitching, please. Kind and constructive criticism would be nice, thank you. Other than that, if you like Pickles x Toki, then enjoy.
Snow.
Toki hated snow. Which was weird, as the brunette was the childish member of the band. The others were somwhat suprised when the guitarist made his confession. They thought that Toki would have been straight out there - wrapped up warm and pestering the band to make 'snow angels' with him. Or at least throw a snowball or two.
But when Nathan asked Toki why he wasn't outside making the most of the snow, Toki just shrugged. He continued to stare out of the window, staring blankly at the crisp white blanket that layed itself down on Mordhaus. He could see the Klokateers shovelling the snow, and sighed in disgust. He could hear footsteps, turning to see Skwisgaar next to him.
"Ah, Toki. Yous nots goings out theres in the colds todays? Its snowings."
"Ja, ams knows, Skwisgaar." Toki sighed. He really wasn't in the mood for Skwisgaar's bullshit right now.
"Why aren'ts yous outs theres freezings, huh? Is yous too muchs of a pussies? Its onlies a bits of wind, Toki."
"I hates snows." Toki snapped, moving away from the window and shaking his head, sulking off to his room. Pickles was sat on the couch, looking up from the magazine he was reading - some old issue of Rolling Stone or whatever. Closing the magazine and placing it next to him, he decided to figure out what was up with Toki.
"Dood, what's with Toki? He's been actin'...really weird. Liek, not himself."
Skwisgaar shrugged.
"No ideas, Pickle. Dumb dildoes been actings like a crybabies all days."
Pickles thought for a minute, standing up and leaving to go find Toki. He was going to find out what was up with him if it killed him. The last thing anyone needed was a sulking Toki.
Said rhythm guitarist was in his room, clutching his beloved Deddy bear. Even though it couldn't talk back, he felt as if it was his only friend in this godforsaken place. Nathan wasn't too bad, but at times Toki found the vocalist a little intimidating. Murderface constantly made fun of him, Skwisgaar had practically drained him of any confidence and self-esteem he had during his time in Dethklok and Pickles...Pickles was nice. In fact, out of the four, Pickles was the nicest to him. He could even go so far as to call him a friend. But most of the time the drummer was either passed out, high, drunk or hungover. Charles only cared about him because Dethklok was his "bread and butter" and the Klokateers weren't that much fun because they were always working. All he had was Deddy. It was him and Deddy against the world.
"Deddy...I donts knows what to dos anymores. Its snowings. I-I cants looks at its. It so...breathtakings, but I can't looks at it for too longs...I gets bad memories. Everytime I see snow, I cants helps but thinks about...them."
A single tear dripped down Toki's cheek as he tightened his grip on the small bear. The snow. He hated the sight of it ever since he left home. Norway. That hell that he called a home. Toki never did have much of a childhood. Hell, what was a childhood, anyway? Toki never knew. His eyes closed, and he could see them. The cold, disapproving faces of his parents. No smiling, no laughter, just eyes full of ice and hearts as black as night. It snowed all the time in Norway, but he couldn't play in it. No, he had to work.
And if he didn't work? He'd be punished.
Sometimes he'd spend the night in the punishment hole. Sometimes it was a harsh slap to the face. Or a lash of a whip on his back. Every beating, every slap, every whiplash, every bit lip, every faint footstep. Every door slam, every whimper. He took it all.
That was what he could remember when he thought of snow.
Pickles heard the brunette crying. He sighed softly, running a hand through his dreadlocks. Sure, him and his dad used to argue a hell of a lot. He dad was a fucking prick, but he never had it as bad as Toki. He remembered the first time he saw the scars on Toki's back and vowing that he'd make sure Toki would never have to go through anything like that again.
He pushed the door open slightly, seeing Toki laying on his side, his knees touching his chest, never letting go of the small bear in his hands. Shutting the door gently, he sat on the edge of the bed, taking Toki into his arms and kissing him softly, stroking his chesnut locks softly. Neither of the men didn't say anything. They didn't have to. Toki felt safe for the first time when Pickles held him. He knew he was going to be okay.
There was a comfortable silence what felt like ages, as Toki's sobbing faded, and Pickles continued to run his fingers through the brunette's hair absent-mindedly. And all he could say was:
"It's okay, Toki. I hate deh snow too."
Authors Note: Well I appologise for the depressing fic. I'll try abs write something a little bit happier next time. Still, I hope you enjoyed. It was snowing today, and it gave me the insperation to write this fix. That, and I think Pickles x Toki is adorable.