Teenage Memorandum

by the Last Flowerchild

Pickles is a teenager living with his parents. One fateful summer his father sends him to a reform school in Norway, where he meets up with another young boy named Toki Wartooth. Teenage Pickles/Toki slash.

6. Chapter 6::Say Goodbye

CHAPTER 6: SAY GOODBYE

"I'm sorry, I'm so fuckin'-"

"It ams fine." Toki said tiredly. The two sat in the main office along with about a dozen others, most witnesses to their predicament from earlier. They'd been locked in that office for three hours now, and still there was no sign of getting out. Gunther and Jen were talking to the headmaster, probably telling him every detail about what had happened. The thought of this made Pickles squirm. Gunther had finally managed to get up after about thirty minutes, and he'd been pissed—he never been able to take a hit. Jen had knelt over him, pressed her fine, slender little hand to his forehead and cried, "Gunther Bekker? Gunther, are you okay? Oh my God, he's dead!"

"He ain't dead, you stupid little bitch!" Pickles had howled, pushing her away. "The prick just don't know how to fight!"

Now, as the two walked out of the principal's office, Toki shifted a little closer in his seat to Pickles. Gunther saw this, but didn't care. He still planted himself next to the Norwegian and rested a hand on his thigh. Pickles glared at him for this, but knew that if he opened his mouth he'd probably get into deeper trouble, so he held his tongue. Toki just yawned, rested his head gently against the redhead's shoulder, then closed his eyes.

"I ams so tired."

"S'fine." he responded in a nearly inaudible voice. "Go to sleep if you want to."

Toki let out an exhausted little, "I can'ts, I'm too scareds."

"Of what?"

"They ams goings to call our parents and tells them about what happened."

Pickles' heart dropped. "T-They can't do that, nat to me. My mom and dad's all the way in Wisconsin. They'd never—"

"My dads ams going to kill me, he reallys will."

"No he won't." he laid his arm security around Toki's shoulders and pulled him into an awkward embrace. "Just be quiet and go to sleep, alright?"

"Heya, Toki?" Gunther called in a quiet, cautious voice. The Norwegian peered over at him and gave him a sleepy smile.

"Heys."

"You doing okay? I'm sorry that-"

"Shut up!" Pickles demanded, giving the other boy a spiteful look.

"Pickles, don't talk to Beck like that." Jen instructed coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. She wasn't wearing a bra and had on a skimpy pair of pajama shorts that had the words PINK on the back of them. Her shirt was a tight one without sleeves. The redhead tried to let all of this overcome him like it had before, take away all of his anger, but it didn't work. She just didn't do anything for him anymore. This thought scared him, made him want to cry. He'd have to find a new girl, a new slut to fuck...

"Hey, Jen, you—uh..." for some reason he could barley find the capability to speak. He was so tired. "Would you mind shuttin' the fuck up about shit that you don't understand."

"Undertsand?" she asked angrily. "What don't I understand, you fucking little prick?"

"That he doesn't like you anymore." Gunther broke in, smiling confidently down at Toki. "In fact, he doesn't even like girls anymore, so why don't you just-"

"Are you calling me a fag?" Pickles asked hatefully.

Bekker shrugged and said, clearly not taken aback by the other teenager's anger, "Maybe so—you haven't done anything to prove me wrong, so-"

"I'll fucking kill you!" he hissed, making a move to get up. Toki latched onto him and pulled him back down into his seat, a terrified look on his pale face.

"Don'ts."

"But he-"

"Don't! Just shuts the fuck up and sits back down!"

There was a long period of silence, one in which Pickles sat down moodily, laid a hand protectively on Toki's knee, and glared at Gunther. Bekker, on the other hand, let his hand creep back up the Norwegian's thigh and rest there; occasionally his slender fingers would venture a little higher until Toki shifted in discomfort and leaned a little closer to the redhead. Finally they were released from the office and told to return to their room. Pickles was relieved as he lead Toki out of the office and down the hallway. Unfortunately, Gunther and Jen followed him, unsure of what to do next.

"So," Bekker said awkwardly, keeping pace with his best friend. "some night, huh? Almost like that one last year at prom when you-"

"Don't you get it?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes at the other teenager. Gunther seemed oblivious.

"Get what?"

"We're nat cool anymore. I don't even wanna look at your stupid face." he took Toki's hand and lead him on. "C'mon, we're leavin'."

"Buts-"

"Wait! You can't keep me from talking to Toki!" Gunther protested, taking hold of the Norwegian's arm and pulling him away from Pickles. "I wanna tell him bye."

"No way!" the redhead cried, pushing Bekker away. "You don't get it, do you? You're nat ever gonna see him again, never-"

"Damn it, I'll see him when I wanna see him!" he yelled, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "I'll see him if I wanna, and you can go to hell!"

"You really-" he'd never seen Gunther like this before, not in their several years of friendship. It scared him, so he backed away and fell into Jen's warm embrace. Sure, he'd let the two say their little goodbyes, but only because he felt as though Toki needed some closure. All the while he was kissing Jen, he was watching how Gunther took the Norwegian's hand and kissed it, how affectionately he spoke to him.

"You're not gonna forget me, huh?" Bekker asked tearfully, pulling Toki into a tight hug.

"N-Nos...I don't really gets what ams happening, though."

"I gotta leave—we can't stay here no more. I'm sorry I got you into so much trouble."

The Norwegian's pure, pale gaze was cast down to the floor as he ended the hug. Gunther leaned forward and kissed his cheek, and then Pickles broke away from Jen and pushed her to the side. "Okay, 'dat's it. You got your goodbyes, so just fuck aff, alright? Don't bother calling, either, 'cause I won't answer."

"Go fuck yourself." Bekker responded scornfully as he and Jen turned and walked away. Jen waved, but Pickles didn't wave back. She was dead to him—he felt nothing when he was with her. Toki watched Bekker go with something of sadness in his eyes before following the redhead up the stairs to their room.

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Things between them were eerily silent. Too quiet, too awkward. As they climbed into their separate beds, Toki dared to do something he'd never done before—he removed his shirt. Pickles watched him and swallowed. "Are you-"

"I hates sleeping in clothes." he mumbled, throwing the shirt to the ground. He was too sad, too exhausted to care about anything anymore. He just wanted to slip into the warm covers of his bed and go to sleep.

"I'm sorry." Pickles said, running a hand thru his greasy orange hair. He'd forgotten to take a shower that day. "S'my fault, I know, but I just couldn't stand it, watching him...he's a dick, you shouldn't be with someone like that."

"But you were, so what ams the problem?"

His face reddened. "What are you talkin' about? I never-"

Toki rolled his eyes, snapped his fingers, and called, "Faaaaaang! Fang, you can comes out, now." the young wolf came hurrying out from a pile of dirty, wrinkled clothes in the corner of the room. He hopped up onto the Norwegian's bed and made himself at home there.

Pickles didn't allow himself to be distracted by this; he insisted, "What do you mean by that? We were never together. I'm nat gay."

"Ja you ams—well, you was, anyways."

His face filled with worry. "Whadda mean?"

"He tolds me."

"Oh...Gad, I didn't..." Pickles swallowed and, unable to think of how to continue, he threw the covers over himself and hid his face, trying to hide his complete and utter shame. "He took advantage of me." he said at last, "And I just thought that he'd do the same to you, that's all. I wanted to help you." in all honesty, he knew quite well that there had been no taking advantage of as far as he and Gunther were concerned. Back during that hot summer day so many years ago, he'd wanted it almost as badly as the other boy. He'd wanted to experiment and he'd wanted Bekker to be the one who he did it with...he'd never imagined that he'd like it so much. He felt Toki's eyes boring into him, so he turned to face him. The Norwegian's face was understanding, knowing. It seemed as though he could read all of the redhead's thoughts and was sympathizing with him.

"He didn'ts takes advantage of me."

This only disturbed Pickles more. "So you wanted it?"

He took a moment to think then shrugged. "Did I wants someone to kiss me? Ja, I dids. Did I wants it to be him? Wells...no, but he was goods enough."

"Good enough?" he repeated disgustedly. "Dude, you couldn't have liked it...right?"

Toki nodded and said bluntly, "Ja, I dids if you really wants to know. I loved it, and I'm glad it happened. I just wish it hads been with someone else..."

"But you're..." Pickles shook his head and fell back onto his bed. "No fuckin' way, nat with him..."

"I'ms what?" the Norwegian inquired curiously.

"In love?"

Toki laughed at this and shook his head. "Nos, I don't really know what that ams like. I've never really loved anyones."

"Nat ever?"

"Nots ever."

"Oh." he smiled to himself. If Toki wasn't in love with Gunther, then everything was okay again. Pickles flashed the Norwegian a grin and asked, "Hey, dude?"

"Ja?"

"G'night."

"Ja, goodnights."

Pickles switched off the lamp and laid his head down. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come; minutes, hours...it never came. Finally he sat up, turned on the light, and stared at Toki, who was also lying awake. "Hey, you can't sleep, huh?"

He shook his head. "Nos."

"Wanna see somethin' cool?"

"Sures." he sat up, let the covers fall from his naked torso.

Pickles went over and sat on the floor. He picked up the acoustic guitar that Gunther had brought him. With a sneer he said, "Fuck it, I told him to bring me the electric...oh well, s'good enough, I guess. Okay, ready?" he asked Toki. The Norwegian nodded and started to pet Fang, who was watching the redhead happily. Pickles strummed the strings, ran his fingers up and down the neck of the acoustic. He began to play the first few seconds of Sweet Child O' Mine, and Toki looked amazed.

"You wrotes that?"

He laughed. "No, I wish—then I'd be a fuckin' millionaire."

"How you knows how to play that so goods? Your hands, they moves so good..." he watched Pickles' fingers skillfully pluck and pull at the guitar strings. "It looks easy. Cans I try?"

He laughed and motioned for him to come over. "Yeah, sure. Knock yourself out."

Toki climbed out of bed, grabbed the guitar, and sat down. Pickles took the Norwegian's hands in his own and ran his thumb along the palm. "They're soft—you can't play too much or they'll get blisters."

"Okays." he smiled sweetly. "Teach me?"

"Sure, look—like 'dis." he positioned the other teenager's fingers into the right places then whispered, "Just play."

"Plays what?"

"Anything."

"Okays." he messily began strumming, stopped, repositioned his fingers, then resumed. After about a two minutes of this he quit and passed the acoustic back to Pickles with a moody sigh. "It ams impossible."

"Nah, look." he started playing Sweet Child 'O Mine once more, only this time he locked eyes with Toki and sang the lyrics. His voice was soft, determined, and absolutely dedicated. In his heart he meant it, and he felt his face burning as he sang gently, "He—she's got a smile that it seems to me reminds me of childhood memories where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky..."

Now and then when I see her face
She takes me away to that special place
And if I'd stare too long
I'd probably break down and cry

Sweet child o' mine
Sweet love of mine

"That ams a really, really pretty songs, Pickle."

She's got eyes of the bluest skies
As if they thought of rain
I hate to look into those eyes
And see an ounce of pain
Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place
Where as a child I'd hide
And pray for the thunder
And the rain
To quietly pass me by...

He caught himself leaning in a little closer to Toki and abruptly stopped. He threw down the guitar and laughed awkwardly. "Yeah, and 'dat's pretty much it. Nothin' to it, really. I could teach you how to play."

"Reallys? I wants to learn how to plays that! It ams beautiful!"

He knew he was blushing like an idiot—and his voice was cracking with nervousness, so he knew he must sound like one, too—but this didn't stop him from pulling Toki into a hug and saying, "Yeah, you—it is."

"I ams what?"

"You're...ah...gonna learn it." You're fuckin' beautiful...

"Thanks, Pickle."

"Yep, sure thing. Any time." he ended the hug, gave Fang a kiss atop his furry head, and quickly climbed into bed. He felt horrible, sick, and burning hot with something...what was it? Love, lust, and desire...he closed his eyes and all he could see was Toki shirtless playing that guitar. Sweet, sweet child—sweet child that was his.

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A few days later they found themselves sitting in the principal's office again, this time with their parents looming above them. As soon as Pickles saw that his family had actually bothered to show up, he asked, completely astonished, "What the fuck are you doin' here? You came from Wiscansin just to yell at me?"

His mother was silent, but his father wasn't. "Shut up, son." he growled, narrowing his eyes at his boy. Meanwhile Toki just swallowed and hastily took a seat. He peered up at his father and gave him a timid, sweet little smile.

"Hei, far."

The man just gave his son a cold, hateful look and responded quietly, "Være stille, idiot."

Toki grew silent and bowed his head in submission. Pickles leaned over and whispered to him, "What'd he just say? Did he call you an idiot?"

His father's hand struck him hard on the cheek, and he immediately grew silent. Still the Norwegian didn't look up, he just bit his lower lip in fear and his eyes began to water. "Jeg er lei," he whispered to himself, "Jeg er lai."

In a moment the principal entered the room, a grave look on his face. He'd explained the situation to Pickles' parents as soon as they'd arrived, but Toki's parents were unaware of their son's trouble, so they were told the news. All the while Toki shifted and squirmed in his seat, his face full of fear at his father's reaction. His pale eyes were fixated upon his father, and with every word and question uttered in Norwegian, his fate grew more absolute. Pickles began to worry about this—the other teenager's parents didn't seem to be as bad as his, but clearly Toki was terrified. Without realizing what he was doing, he rested a hand gently on the Norwegians knee and gave him a little smile. Seth noticed this and pointed it out.

"Ma, look! Pickles is touching another boy! He's-"

His mother gasped and pulled them away from each other. "Pickles, don't do that! My God, his parents will think you're some kind of-"

"Queer." his father completed, giving his son a look of detest.

Pickles opened his mouth to say something, but he noted that he already tasted blood from when his father had hit him a moment ago, so he decided to quit while he was still able to stand. Instead of being angry he focused his attentions on someone who really needed them—Toki. The Norwegian was now fully sobbing as his father yelled at him. "Hva handler dette om, Toki? Jeg sendte deg her for at du skal bedre, ikke for deg til å være ulydig reglene!"

"Jeg er lai!" he sobbed, trying to hide his sorrow from the others in the room.

His father gave him a sharp slap and hissed, "Opphøre gråten. Du er pinlig selv."

"I'm sorry!" he yelled, hiding his face in his hands. "I didn't means it!"

"Lay off of him!" Pickles finally yelled at the Norwegian's parents. "He didn't do anything bad, so just leave him alone!"

"Please," Pickles' father hurried to explain to Toki's parents, "excuse my son's horrible, detestable manners; we didn't raise him this way."

"Fuck yeah, you did!" he protested.

"I'm sure that your son hasn't meant to cause trouble," the redhead's father continued, "in fact, I'm sure that it was my son who's made most of the trouble here."

Toki's father arched a brow and repeated, "Your son?" he glanced at his wife, who shook her head. "No," he said in English, "my son's fault. He's always been this way, always been bad. I suppose that we haven't disciplined him the right way."

"Dads, I didn't mean-"

"Silence!" Toki's father cried, glaring at his son. Pickles watched this display with a sickened look on his face.

"Fuck you, you stupid, old-"

"Pickles!" his mother gasped. "Apologize!"

"No, 'cause he's wrong! Toki didn't do anything, it was my fault."

Seth grinned at him. He seemed to be enjoying this. "Really? Then who's fault was it?"

"Mine! I made stupid Jen and Bekker come down here. I was the one who kicked Toki outta the room with Bekker so I could fuck Jen."

"If I may say something-" the principal interrupted, sitting down behind his desk. He crossed his arms and stared at the two families for a while before suggesting, "Obviously whatever the situation may be, these two boys have possibly broken every single school rule there is. Therefore it is my duty to say-"

"That ams not fair!" Toki cried, sniffling and holding back his tears. "You've never wanteds me here, nobody has, and now you ams going to gets rid of me just because you don'ts likes me! This ams bullshit!"

His parents gasped and his father struck him sharply and said, "Se hva du sier, gutt!"

He lowered his head and said shyly, "Sorry, dads."

"Yes, well," the principal resumed calmly, smiling at the Norwegian's embarrassment, "I think that it would be in both the student's best interests if they were to either be separated immediately or taken out of this school completely."

"But you can't do 'dat! You can't just separate us!" Pickles cried. This very idea made his blood run cold; he couldn't survive a second if Toki wasn't there making him laugh. Thankfully, the Norwegian's parents agreed on this as well.

"Perhaps we should try something else." Toki's father suggested. "Something not as drastic..."

Pickles and Toki were then let out of the office while the adults worked out a punishment for them. Once away from his family, Pickles exclaimed, "Can you believe that shit! They can't separate us! That's so fuckin' stupid, right?" he glanced over and saw that Toki's face was pale and full of fear. Gently he nudged the other boy and asked tentatively, "Right, Toki?"

He shook his head and whispered, "Nos, not rights..." then he leaned against the wall and slowly sat down onto the floor. Pickles just frowned down at him and tapped him with the toe of his sneaker.

"Hey, dude, you okay? What's wrong?"

"My dad," he answered, burying his face in his hands. "he ams going to makes me go home with him, I just knows it."

"He can't do 'dat!" Pickles protested, trying to help him back up. Toki just gave him a sad look, a what do you care kind of look, and so he smiled and said confidently, "I won't let him do that."

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Later they sat in their room. Pickles was trying to learn a little bit of Norwegian from Toki; in exchange for guitar lessons, the other teenager had promised to teach him the fine points of the native language. Things weren't going that well at all. Fang hopped around the room rambunctiously—he'd grown quite a bit already, and was almost always hungry. Like now, when Toki paused the lesson, dug a candy bar out of his jacket, and threw it over to the young wolf, the pup still wasn't satisfied. He nipped at his masters' fingers and whined. Only when he was ignored fully did he cease this and creep into a pile of old, dirty clothes for a nap. Toki said patiently to Pickles, "It ams not hard, really—Norwegian ams easy to learn."

"Well, I don't get it."

"I don't gets how to play guitar, but you say it ams easy."

"Because it is!"

He smiled. "And this ams easy too, just listen. Jeg elsker deg."

"Fuck it," Pickles said, shaking his head in defeat. "I can't say it like 'dat—you say it so good, so smooth and stuff. I'd never be able to do that, never."

He repeated tirelessly, "Jeg elsker deg."

"What does it even mean?" the redhead inquired, feeling frustration creep up on him. "I bet it's just your way of callin' me a jackass."

"I loves you." Toki said, looking away. He turned his attention to fang, picked up the wolf from the pile of clothes, then patted him on his head. "Don't sleep there; it ams gross."

Pickles watched him with a look of confusion on his face. "I love you? Oh..." his voice trailed off and in a moment the Norwegian was facing him, a grave expression on his face.

"They ams going to take me away." he said sadly, sitting down on the floor next to Pickles. The other teenager gave him a clueless look.

"Whadda mean?"

"My parents—they always do this when I gets in bad trouble. They take me outs of school for a few weeks then makes me go back home, works my ass off, and they—well, nevers mind." he hugged his knees to his chest and said dully, "I hates going home."

"Then don't go."

"I haves to or I'll get in even mores trouble. What abouts you?" he asked, his interest peaking. "What abouts your parents? They seem okay."

Pickles scoffed at this. "Yeah, right. They suck." he paused and then added solemnly, "Y'know, at home I don't got a name."

Toki frowned at this. "Whats you mean? Sure you dos, you ams Pickle."

"No," he shook his head and sighed, "I mean that nobody really calls me that. They all just push me around and say, 'Hey, Seth's brother,' or something like that. I'm really nobody."

"So you likes it here?"

He thought about it and ultimately nodded. "Yeah, I guess so—s'long as you're here. This place wouldn't be anything without you."

Toki grinned. He seemed almost validated by these words, as though all of his past actions were now made good. Shyly he began twisting some of his hair around his fingers then said, "If it makes you feels better, I don't really haves a name either, no matter where I gos. I'm nobody here or at my house—I'm just nothing."

"Nah, you're nat like me." Pickles said, nudging the Norwegian gently and giving him an affectionate smile. "You're not stupid, one day you're gonna do something. Me—people like me—just get sent to jail by the time they're eighteen. I'm-"

"Pickle!" suddenly Toki was sobbing. He latched onto the redhead and didn't let go. "Don't lets them send me back, please! I hates it at my house, they ams so mean to me!"

"Then don't go! Stay here with me." Slowly his hands traveled down and held Toki's. He didn't know what he meant to do by this, so he quickly pulled away from the other boy and stopped. Instead he decided to say, "You can always be with me—I mean here..." With me. He thought, turning red. Toki was trembling so violently that Pickles actually became scared. He hugged him closer and, without quite realizing what he was doing, he buried his face in the Norwegian's hair and inhaled. All at once the crying stopped and Toki pulled away from him, a curious look on his tear-stained face.

"Pickle, was you just sniffings me?"

"Huh?" he shook his head quickly. "N-No."

The Norwegian wasn't convinced. "Ja, I thinks you were."

"I think you're wrang!"

"Buts-"

"Goodnight." he said abruptly, rising to his feet and marching over to his bed. He slipped into the covers and then switched off the lamp. There was a short moment of silence before he heard Toki's footsteps approaching his bed; suddenly they stopped, and he felt a warm hand touching his cheek. He blinked. "Toki?"

"I'm sorrys."

"For what?"

A pause, then, "I really don'ts knows."

He nodded and pulled the covers up to his chin. "G'night, Toki."

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Pickles was awoken early the next morning by the agonized shouts of, "Fuck! Dum ulv! Holde fremdeles!" He sat straight up in his bed and, without taking a moment to even rub the sleep from his eyes, he was on his feet stumbling towards the bathroom. Mainly he did this to see if Toki was okay—he also had to piss. He discovered the Norwegian bent over the bathtub giving Fang a shower. Pickles ran a hand thru his messy hair and arched a brow.

"What time is it?"

"I don'ts know—six? Fang!" he snapped, hitting the young wolf sharply on the nose. "Don'ts you dare try to jump out of this fuckings tub again!"

"Oh." he stretched and scratched at his chest. It was only now that he realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt, only a pair of worn, torn, and stained jeans. He didn't even think he had underwear on. "Heya, can't you hurry up? I gatta piss."

"What do you wants me to do?" Toki demanded, rinsing some soap from his hands. "He ams almost clean."

Pickles let out a tired groan. "I need to piss!"

"Holds it, then!"

"Fuck that! I'm pissin'." he went over to the toilet, raised the lid, and unzipped his pants. "Huh," he said offhandedly, "No underwear..."

Toki just patiently continued to bathe fang. He drenched the pup in water and, when it tried to bite his hand, he wheeled back and almost fell. "Fang! Don'ts do that!"

Meanwhile Pickles made an odd discovery. He was hard, unbelievably hard. It wasn't just a normal kind of hard, either, it was a need-to-fuck-something-right-now kind of hard. He sighed and zipped his pants back up. "Yeah...I don't think I need to piss no more."

Toki ignored him and started gently humming to Fang in an attempt to calm him down. The redhead took this as an opportunity to exit the room. Once he was out, he went and hid back under his covers. "Stupid fuckin' dick..." he mumbled, laying back down. He was full of need like he'd been when Jen had been here. No, this desire was stronger. I was the insatiable need for something else, something...Norwegian? He licked his lips and smiled. Norwegian—yes, that was nice. He himself didn't realize just why his mind jumped to Norwegian until Toki came out of the bathroom ringing out his shirt, soaking wet, and, in some places, bleeding.

"H-He bit you?" Pickes asked, his voice shaking absurdly. Toki glanced over at him and nodded.

"Ja, and scratched." he went to get another shirt, and for the first time the redhead could make out an endless array of scratches and scars on his back. He bit his lower lip.

"You...you gonna get cleaned up then come with me and get some food?"

"No." he said sadly. "Actuallys I can't."

"Why nat?"

"My parents—they ams picking me up today at eight."

"What?" his heart seemed to freeze in his chest. All at once his horniness disappeared into worry and sadness as he watched Toki slip into a clean shirt. "Don't do 'dat." he said, hurrying to his feet and lifting the shirt away from the Norwegian's back. "You'll get blood on it, idiot."

"Whatever." he said gloomily, letting out a sigh.

"Here, come see." Pickles lead the Norwegian over to his bed where he lifted up the shirt. Toki quickly tried to cover himself and his scars, but the redhead wouldn't let him do this. "Don't! You can't get bloodstains outta clothes, you fuckin' idiot!"

"You shouldn'ts see all of thats." he mumbled dejectedly, looking down. "Nobody ams supposed to sees that."

"Shut up." he tried to wipe the blood away from Toki's sensitive, fair skin, not caring in the slightest if he stained his own clothes or hands. The Norwegian shifted in discomfort at this, but very gradually he let Pickles remove his shirt and investigate the rest of his body for scratches.

"This ams stupid." he murmured meekly, hugging himself.

"You trying to give that fuckin' animal a bath was stupid. He scratched the hell out of you." Pickles said snappishly, wiping off some more blood. Toki jumped and let out a hiss of pain. The redhead placed his hand gently atop the burning cut and apologized.

"It ams fine." he said, trying to hide the embarrassment on his face. "I really don't wants to go." he admitted at last. Pickles nodded.

"I know, but you gotta. Besides, you'll be back, right?" when no answer came, he stopped what he was doing and made Toki turn to face him. He repeated fearfully, "You'll be back, right?"

"I..." his eyes filled with tears as he shrugged. "I don'ts really know, Pickle." he began to break down all over again. "I don't know what ams going to happen, but you ams my best friend, and-"

"What?" he asked, wiping the Norwegian's blood off on his own shirt. "I'm really your best friend?"

Toki nodded and glanced over at him, his pale blue eyes shining with admiration. "At least I thinks you ams—aren't you, Pickle? We ams friends, right?"

Pickles knew that his face must be turning as red as his hair, but he didn't care. Clearly Toki didn't care either, so he nodded and said without hesitation, "Yeah, we're friends."

"Best friends, right, Pickle?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "sure."

"Then you won'ts forgets about me when I'm gone?"

He laughed at this and shook his head. "Nah, never."

"Good, 'cause I won'ts forget abouts you."

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A few hours later, Pickles grabbed Toki, pulled him into a tight embrace, and said to him, "I'm gonna be here when you get back, alright?"

He nodded. "Ja, okays."

"I'll..." he didn't quite know what to say. He'd never really been good at transferring his emotions into words—he'd never had to before, but around Toki things seemed so much easier. With little trouble he was able to say, "I'll miss you so fuckin' much."

"I'll miss yous too, Pickle."

"I..." now this was the hard part. Something was biting to be let out, to be put out into the open, to escape his lips; he knew what it was and yet he did not know, he didn't want to accept it. Who was he kidding? When he was with Toki things were twice as difficult. The Norwegian made him so nervous that he wanted to just turn and walk away forever, but something inside of him—the something that was fighting to be let out—wouldn't let him do this, so he just gave the other teenager a quick tap on the shoulder and said, "Good luck."

Toki walked away, his head held low, tears shining in his beautifully pale eyes. Pickles turned and left right then, unable to contain his emotions any longer. He was out in the open yard of the school, and everyone was staring at him, waiting for him to lose it. He didn't; instead he just walked quickly back up to his room, slammed the door, and then began throwing everything within reach against the wall. Fang emerged from a fortress of crumpled clothes at the foot of Toki's bed and cocked his head to the side—he stared at the human's strange emotional breakdown with something of half amusement, half concern in his yellow eyes. He knew better than to try and distract Pickles from his problems by nipping at him or yelping—he himself might be hurt, so he sat. Silently and motionlessly he sat and watched.

"Fuck this stupid, useless shit!" Pickles cried, falling to his knees. Everything in him was spent up, his energy drained from his tantrum. Now he was left to lay in the middle of the room, hot, panting, and crying. Cautiously Fang got up and went over to him. The young wolf rubbed its furry tail against the redhead's cheek and licked at his salty tears. Pickles swatted him away and closed his eyes. "Leave me alone. Why can't the whole fuckin' world just leave me alone?"

Once he got tired of laying there on the floor, Pickles worked up the strength to undress and throw himself into bed. Then, with only his old jeans on, did he manage to fall asleep. Once again, like so many times before, he was alone, and he was nothing.

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He woke up, took a shower, and drowned himself in the wonderful, soothing hot water. Without realizing it, he was whistling Sweet Child 'O Mine, and when the hot water ran out and the shampoo was washed out of his hair, he threw back the shower curtain and sat on the edge of the tub. His red hair dripping with water, he dry himself off. He didn't realize it, but slowly the bathroom door opened. Toki was standing there in the doorway, his hands behind his back. He wore his AC/DC shirt with a pair of those ripped and tattered jeans that Pickles loved. His long hair was messy, indicating that he'd just woken up. Pickles didn't mind the fact that he was naked, he just laid the towel over his lap and gave the Norwegian a smile.

"I love you." he said boldly. "Gad, I fuckin' love you."

Toki walked over, knelt down, and allowed Pickles to wrap his arms around him and pull him close into a hug. "I loves you too, Pickle." he fingered the towel that was covering the redhead's lap and tugged at it. Slowly, so tantalizingly slowly, he removed the towel. Although his pale eyes were bright with curiosity, he didn't hesitate to boldly take Pickles' cock into his mouth. Oh God. He was on fire, burning up from the invisible force that was driving him to push Toki's mouth over more of his erection.

The realization that he actually did love Toki was a startling one, and immediately as he whispered it again, he gasped and awoke. Once awake, Pickles looked around the room, panting, praying that any second the Norwegian would come and ask him if he was okay, like he'd always done before. 'Ams you okay, Pickle? Did you haves a bad dream?' but these hopes were wasted, because in a moment he remembered that he was alone. Only Fang was with him, and the young wolf was lying on Toki's bed, sadly licking the sheets. Pickles realized that he was alone, abandoned, and totally devoid of hope. He collapsed into his bed and covered his face with a pillow. Without restraint, he let out a loud, agonized scream, and he heard Fang respond with a sorrowful howl.

It was as if the whole world knew of their loss—Toki was gone. He might not come back, and Pickles had lost the best friend he'd ever had in his life all because he was too selfish to follow the rules. He didn't even do anything, it's my fault, he thought, shutting his eyes and throwing the pillow across the room. It was his fault, everything, and now he'd never see Toki again.

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**A/N**

I'm certainly not updating as fast as I used too...oh well, I've been putting off publishing this chapter for a few days now, although I don't really know why. Bleh, whatever. Hope you enjoyed. Reviews are appreciated.