Chapter 2, Part 1

The Fight

Pickles awoke with a pounding headache the next morning. As he stumbled over to his door, he nearly tripped over all the empty bottles. When he managed to make it over all the debris and junk, he discovered that a note was taped on the handle of his door. It was written in the scrawled, childish handwriting of Toki.

I haves another question for you.

He sighed and opened his door slowly. Maybe if he could manage to sneak past the Norwegian's room quietly, he could—just as he took his first step, his foot hit something warm. There was a sharp grunt of pain and Pickles was shocked to see that he had one foot placed directly over Toki's face.

"Pickle, you ams stepping on my face."

"Sorry!" he exclaimed as he hurried to step back. He watched as the guitarist let out a large yawn and rose to his feet, rubbing his cheek.

"That scardes me."

"Sorry." was all he could say again. Before taking another careful step, he retreated inside of his room and located a half-empty bottle of vodka. Once he had gotten that, he met the guitarist again outside.

As he walked out into the hall again, Toki grabbed his arm and asked expectantly, "You gots my note?"

"Yep." and he closed his bedroom door and proceeded to walk in the direction of the dining room. He took a sip of alcohol before asking, "And I think we should talk about that. I—wait, were you sleeping outside my bedroom?"

Toki nodded and ran a hand thru his messy hair. "Ja. I didn'ts wants to wakes you up again, but I didn't want to forget it to asks you."

"But that's the thing, Toki." Pickles began. "You have so many damn questions, and the problem is that I don't know how in the fuck to answer them, so-"

"You wants me to leave you alone?"

He shook his head and said carefully, "No."

"Then whats?"

Pickles took a deep breath. He could tell that he was treading on thin ice, but what could he do? This couldn't keep happening; Toki's religion obsession was surely just a phase—the drummer hoped it was just a phase. He spoke slowly and carefully, thought out ever word as he said, "I just think that you may be asking the wrong person about all of this stuff, that's all. I'm not religious; I don't care about Gad or any of that holy ghost bullshit. It's all a load of crap to me, so-"

Toki stopped walking and held his bible close to him. "Buts I believes in it."

"Dude, you just started reading that stupid book yesterday and you already think that you're a Gad freak?" Pickles inquired. "Think about it. It doesn't make sense, none of it. I've tried to read that stupid book a long time ago after my friend..." his voice trailed off and he just said, "...I didn't get it. I still don't get it." He turned and stared at Toki with sad eyes. "I never gat it and I guess I never will."

"Nos, you just must've beens reading it wro-"

"How the fuck do you read words wrong?" Pickles snapped. He wasn't necessarily angry, but with each moment that passed he was beginning to remember more and more about his lost friend. "I read that stupid book cover to cover damn near fifty times and I still didn't get it! It didn't tell me a fuckin' thing, so why don't you just piss aff? I don't care about you or your stupid God! I don't want anything to do with it, why don't you understand 'dat? I swear, sometimes it's like you're so god damn stup-" he cut himself off before he could say it. He knew that he was going too far, so he shut his mouth and waited for the Norwegian to work up the courage to speak.

In the end all he said was, "Ja, right. Thanks for the help, Pickle." And he pushed past the drummer and walked down the hall. Pickles sighed. What the hell was wrong with him?

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Chapter 2, Part 2

Much Needed Help

Later after breakfast Dethklok was lead into the recording studio by Ofdensen. "No more stalling," he said as he lead them over to Knubbler. "The fans are expecting an album release soon."

They all recorded their parts with little trouble and got it done quickly and without resistance; however when it came for Toki's turn to play, there were many problems. His first take was out of tune, so Skwisgaar said into the talk-back mic, "Heys, dildo, tunes your guitars."

Toki arched a brow. "Tunes it? It ams in tune."

"Nos it ain't. It ammnest flat, idiots."

"Flats?" he cluelessly began running his fingers across his guitar's strings. "It ams flat?"

"Idiots! It ams too low! Tunes it higher!" Skwisgaar snapped. "Don't you knows how to tunes a guitar?"

He shrugged. "Sures, I guess."

"Then dos it!"

"Buts-"

"Turns those little things at the tops."

Toki sighed and said, "You ams not making much sense, Skwisgaar."

The Swede let out an angry little hiss and turned to Nathan. "Cans we please kicks him out the bands now? He ams totallys useless!"

"Just go help him tune his guitar." was the singer's harsh response.

"Fines."

Skwisgaar went and joined Toki. He took his guitar and said, "Okays, looks at what I do. You turns this right here and you listens; turns and listens." he began turning Toki's guitar and continued mumbling to himself, "Turns and listens, turns and-"

There was a loud twang of disjointed sound as the string snapped. Everyone inside the studio let out groans of defeat. Murderface sat down in a chair and cried, "Why can't we jusht quit for today?"

"I can do it." Pickles said, turning to Nathan. "Can I get in 'dere?"

He shrugged. "Sure. I don't see how it could hurt."

The drummer went inside the recording booth and pushed Skwisgaar to the side. "Look," he said to a disgruntled Toki. "Dude, it ain't 'dat hard to do, okay? Watch." he took the Norwegian's hands and gently guided them thru the process. Once it was done he ran his hands along he remaining strings and asked, "There. 'Dat's where it's gatta be. It sounds better now, huh?"

"Ja." Toki answered, turning a little red. "Thanks, Pickle."

"No prablem." he released the guitarist's hands and said gently, "You gat it from here?"

"Sures."

" 'Kay." then he turned to Skwisgaar and said, "C'mon, let's let him record."

And the rest of the session went on without a hitch. When it was over, Pickles and Toki stayed behind in the studio to practice a little more. "Playings guitar ams complicated," the Norwegian commented, skillfully playing out a complex tune on his Gibson. "Sometimes I just wants to quit, like today. Thanks for helpings me."

"Sure," Pickles responded, softly tapping out a beat with his drumsticks. He was sitting on the couch in the studio, drumming on his knee. Toki glanced over at him and smiled—it was his first smile in weeks. Something inside the drummer seemed to light up and he smiled back before turning his gaze down to the floor.

"Toki," he said almost timidly, "you're smilin'."

"Ja, I knows."

"When was the last time you did that?"

He thought back and finally shrugged. "A longs time ago." then he ended the little solo and without warning began laughing. He laughed for a whole minute before throwing down his guitar and saying, "I just can'ts stops thinking abouts it—Skwisgaar brokes a string! He never breaks his strings!"

Pickles' little smile grew. "He deserved it. He's such a fuckin' dick to you sometimes."

Toki scooted a little closer to the drummer on the couch and leaned heavily against his shoulder. "I ams sorry about this mornings," he said seriously. "I didn't means to hurts you, but it ams just like you have all the answers—like you ams the only one on the world who cares abouts me or wants to help. Sometimes I guess I just gets carrieds away and thinks you knows everything."

"It's fine."

"Ams you mad at me?"

"For what?" he asked, ceasing his drumming.

"Wakings you up last night."

"Nat at all."

"That ams good." there was a moment of silence before, "Pickle, whens you die don't gos to Hell."

He laughed for a second, but once he realized that Toki was serious he stopped. "Don't go to what? What're you talkin' about?"

"I..." Toki struggled to find the words to say, "I don'ts wants to go to Hell—it sounds sos bad—but I thinks that you wants to gos there, so please don'ts. I wants you to go to Heaven with me after you dies."

"I don't think that that's somethin' you can decide yourself, Toki."

"Oh." he frowned in thought and inquired, "Then who does decides?"

"Gad."

"Oh." This only confused Toki more, so he asked, "But if he sends you to Hells then whats about me?"

"Well..." Pickles searched for the right words and came up with, "I guess you'll go to Heaven and I won't."

"Buts I don't want us to gos to separate places—that ams the whole point!" his eyes filled with tears of distress. The drummer cursed himself for his thoughtless words and pulled Toki into a tight, reassuring hug.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Ifs Gods lets me go to Heaven, can I choose to gos with you in Hell?"

"I guess you could, but why would you want to?"

"Because you ams my best friend." Toki said, staring at Pickles with his wonderfully pale eyes. "And I don'ts wants to be aways from you forever. That woulds suck, right?"

"Yeah." he said quietly. "I guess it would."

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Chapter 2, Part 3

Say A Little Prayer

That night as Pickles laid down in his bed all he could think of was Toki's words. If Hell was real, then would he go to it? He didn't know, so he decided to drown out his uncertainties with more alcohol. Just as he poured himself a shot, Toki came barging into his room. The drummer tried not to seem too taken aback as he asked, "Uh...hey, dude. What's up?"

"I wants to pray tonight."

"Oh. Okay." he glanced around his room and asked after a moment, "So what're you doin' here in my room? Why aren't you in your room?"

"Because I needs you to teach me hows to do it."

Pickles put down his shot glass. "Toki, you don't need anyone to tell you how to talk to Gad. It's something that you just do."

"I don't knows where to start. What dos I pray about?"

"Anything you want."

"Can you maybes show me?"

The drummer nodded and got down off his bed. He couldn't believe he was going along with all of this madness as he knelt down on his knees and bowed his head. Toki got down on the ground next to him and did the same thing. Everything was dismally silent until Pickles began with, "Dear Gad, I...um..." he turned red and elbowed Toki. "You pick it up from 'dere."

"Okays." he cleared his throat and shut his eyes tightly. "Dear Gods, thanks you for-"

"You don't do it out loud." the drummer corrected him. "In your head is fine."

Toki's blue eyes flitted open. They shined with curiosity in the dull light of the room. "Buts what if he don't hears me?"

"He will." Pickles said. "Trust me."

"Okays." and he bowed his head again and without restraint, he began to pray. Thru it all Pickles still knelt there not moving a muscle. They stayed like that for about an hour before Toki was done. He didn't leave, though. Instead he wrapped his arms around the drummer's shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

"Thanks you so much...you wants to know what I prayed for?"

" 'Dat's between you and your Gad, dude."

"I prays for you."

"Oh...I..." he felt himself blushing as he said, "Thanks, I guess."

"Ja. Goodnights, Pickle."

"Um-hmm. Goodnight and thanks for the prayers."

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**A/N**

This was probably the most difficult chapter for me to type because I had no idea where to begin, but I think—I hope—that I did an okay job. The next chapters will be better. Trust me. I won't be talking about God so much and things will become much deeper for Toki and Pickles.

Peace & Love