"Please Toki!" the gaunt boy cried out. "You have to – tell my mother –"

"No, Sjurd, no," Toki answered calmly, stroking his hair gently. "I don't need to get her. You're going to be fine."

"Please!"

"Hush," Toki commanded, hearing footsteps crunching across the frigid plain. "My father is coming!"

Sjurd laid thin and weak on the ice, gasping terribly for each breath. Toki couldn't bring himself to admit to his friend that he couldn't get his mother; she was several miles away in a tavern outside of Lillehammer. He continued to call out for her, though, and each cry broke Toki's heart into another piece. Reverend Aslaug Wartooth appeared, rounding around the boys' tree, holding a whip and a shovel.

"Father?" Toki whimpered, crawling away from Sjurd. "Father, please. Take him to town. I think…I think he's dying."

"Stand, son," Aslaug ordered. "You're much too old to grovel at my feet!"

"Yes, sir," Toki mumbled, staring down at his friend's pale figure. "I'll do anything, Father, just please, please take him to the doctor!"

"Have you no sense, boy?" Aslaug hollered, smacking his son across the jaw with his palm. "The blizzard is beginning! The boy's mother is long gone, and I cannot risk my own death for one pathetic boy."

"Please." Toki couldn't look his father in the eye, nor could he bring his voice above a whisper.

"No. The boy stays here," Aslaug ordered coldly. He pushed the shovel into Toki's hand and pointed towards their home. "Shovel our way home so that my feet won't freeze."

There was absolutely nothing he could do except rub the goosebumps from his bare arms and begin shoveling. He heard more cries from Sjurd, but he continued to ignore them. "Toki!" the boy called out. Toki turned and began running back to his friend, but Aslaug took his whip and lashed his son three times until he began shoveling once more.

Toki listened to his best friend die until he reached the warmth of his home, and then the yelps were only drowned out by the sound of his father's shouting and his own gnashing of teeth.

[]

"Dude, ya don't look too good," Pickles commented as Toki walked stiffly into the dining room, eyes wide.

"Look like you gotta take a shit," laughed Nathan, chugging a can of beer.

"Bishy lasht night?" asked Murderface, slurring his words more than usual with the added help of alcohol. "Heard shcreamsh…all through Mordhaush!"

"That is true," nodded Nathan, taking control of the situation. "There were a lot…lot of screams. Last night."

"Coulds have beens my lady-friends!" added Skwisgaar, pushing his blonde eyebrows together. "I ams was busy last nights, actuallys. If anyones cares to knows!"

"Nat really, dude," shrugged Pickles, staring up at Toki. Why did he keep staring off like that? Had the nightmares returned again? "Somethin' an yer mind, eh Toki?"

Toki continued to stare glassily down at his pancakes.

"Shtop bein' a crybaby!" confronted Murderface after another minute of silence. "It'sh annoying!"

"Pfft, looks who ams is talkings," scoffed Skwisgaar, rolling his eyes.

"What the fuck ish that shupposhed to mean!" shouted Murderface, pulling his knife out of the place where he'd stabbed the table earlier. "I'll fuckin' kill you!"

"Murderface," sighed Nathan, rubbing his temples. "Just…just shut up, man. I've got a hangover like crazy, and your shitty voice isn't…helping."

"Bein' a dildo, dude," criticized Pickles quietly. "All a ya. Toki's gotta prablem."

"I'ms goings now," Toki murmured, standing from the table. He began walking down the dim corridor and soon was consumed by the blackness.

"Gonna go see what's wrang with 'em." Pickles too began walking down into the darkness, having to stop twice to let his eyes adjust.

Pickles found Toki curled in a tight ball in the fetal position just outside of his room, breathing heavily and gasping for air. Pickles rushed towards the broken Norwegian and hovered over him protectively, brushing his hair gently as he calmed him. The more he hushed him, the more Toki began to seize, thrashing about the hall.

"Douchebag!" Pickles cried out. "Klakateer! Klakateer! I need a fuckin' klakateer!"

One of the hundreds of klokateers showed up almost instantly, then two more. All three of them pinned Toki down, but his muscles continued to have spasms beneath the combined men's strength. Pickles bit down on his fist as he watched his best friend begin to calm. He then immediately began begging to see "Pickle" and sobbing about how "he killsed him."

"Shhh, shhh. Toki, it's okay! Ya didn't kill no one!"

"Fucks ja I dids, Pickle. I kills Sjurd!"

"Toki! I told ya, ya didn't kill him, he was sick!" Pickles shooed the klokateers away.

"Nei, nei Pickle! He dies in snows, my dads takes me away and I can'ts finds his mother so I…leaves him. I stops tryings…oh Pickle!" Toki began weeping and fell into Pickles' arms. "If I keeps lookings, he not dies, nei! He lives!" Toki's English became incredibly worse as he continued rambling until he was completely speaking in Norwegian. "Jeg jaevla drept ham! Jeg jaevla drept ham!"

"Toki, calm da fuck down! It's fine!"

"I…kills…best friends I ever hads!" He began crying harder. Pickles shirt was already almost completely soaked.

"Okay, Toki," Pickles sighed, fed up. "Ya killed yer best friend. Ya screwed up. But don't we all? Shit, Toki, I gat mad and ran away from everythin' I had! I fucked up more than ya! But look, ya can't change the past…so ya gatta let it go!"

Toki gazed up at him with eyes filled with amazement. What was the little Norwegian seeing in his own childish way?

"I gotsa…lets it gos…" Toki pondered for a moment, then nodded. "You rights, Pickle! Sjurd ams dead, I can'ts change it…so…"

"So, eh, maybe ferget it ever happened?"

"Oh, nei, Pickle. I can'ts forgets him. He means lots to me."

"Well den don't let it ruin yer life. Don't think bout it."

"Ja, you so smarts!" Toki leaned in to hug him again. "I…"

"Yeah?"

"I…I loves you, Pickle!"

[]

Ofdensen rounded the corner of the crooked and complicated corridor. He was determined to make sure everything was right with Pickles and beg for his forgiveness, to tell him with absolute honesty that he loved him and never wanted to let him go.

He heard the drummer's crude accent and made for that direction. Then chimed in another voice; Toki…?

"Well den," instructed Pickles gently, "don't let it ruin yer life. Don't think about it." Toki was on his knees on the floor, and Pickles was lying down on his back. The cool tile must've been cold, because he sat up right after saying what he did. Toki seemed to think about in for a minute.

"Ja! You so smarts!" Ofdensen leaned around the corner further to see Toki wrap his toned arms around the drummer excitedly. "I…"

"Yeah?" Pickles folded his eyebrows together.

Toki embraced him tighter and practically shouted, "I loves you, Pickle!"

Ofdensen slumped down and peeked back over to see Pickles stiffen, then release the embrace quickly. Toki frowned, then cocked his head.

"Love ya too, Toki. Yer my best friend."

"No, no. Pickle, I love you…I'ms…um…in loves with you!"

Ofdensen slid down until his butt rested against the floor, putting his head in his hands. There was nothing to do except wait to gauge Pickles' response.

"Dat's, eh…are ya sure? Cause I didn't know ya were gay, and –"

"Wasn't tills I falls in loves with you," Toki sang.

"Toki I'm nat…nat…"

"Nots?"

"Okay, I'll be honest. I'm sort of…gay, too. But I don't know if I'm in love with ya er anythin'. I just…I can't…"

"Can'ts whats?" sighed Toki.

"Can't ruin our friendship. Dat's all I got in dis world, 'cept booze and drugs. I mean, maybe I love ya dat way, but I just don't know, and I can't take dat risk."

Ofdensen let a tear fall.

"I understands, Pickle. I will…ams seeings you tomorrow!"

"Yep. Night, Toki."

"Nightsy nights!"

Ofdensen denied his urge to rip the rest of his hair out because, without a doubt, he'd already lost his chance with the one he loved.