Air seemed to become thin, impossible to breathe as Pickles backed away from his tombstone. This couldn't be real—he wasn't dead, was he? Surely not. That was impossible, because he couldn't even remember dying at all. Wouldn't he be able to recall something as important as that? All at once his life seemed to be slipping out from under him and all he could do was sit down in the cool grass and rest his forehead on the cool marble of the tombstone.

Perhaps this was a joke that they were playing on him, or better yet a dream. That had to be it, because if he was dead then that meant that...what did that mean exactly? It meant that he'd lost everything he'd worked his whole life to attain, but also something much, much worse—he'd lost Toki. He'd never even be able to see his smiling face again, to laugh at his stupid jokes or comfort him. Pickles swallowed down the tears that were now threatening to overtake him and looked up. So, he'd died and Toki didn't even know how much he was loved?

A million thoughts raced thru his brain as he sat there by the tombstone and stared up at the bleak, gloomy sky overhead. Although he wasn't certain, he was pretty sure that he couldn't leave this spot or wander very far; there was some unimaginable hold that the place, the place that his corpse eternally rested, had on him, and he couldn't shake it. It seemed to be the only thing tethering him to the ground then, keeping him from crossing over into whatever else the afterlife held in store for him—no, there had to be another reason that he was still there. After all, not everyone hung around after they died, did they? So he must have left something unfinished or—Toki.

Pickles swallowed and felt himself growing numb. Yes, that had to be it. The only thing that he could think of that would still be keeping him here, holding him back from a peaceful death, was the fact that Toki had no clue that the drummer loved him. What could he do? Obviously nobody could really see him or hear him...

Without hope, Pickles did the only thing he could think to do—he sat directly in front of the gravestone. Resting his back against the marble, he closed his eyes and let himself sink into a deep sleep, into the very soil of the Earth.

{{}}{{}}{{}}

Sleep, of course was impossible, but Pickles didn't dare open his eyes for fear of what he'd find himself lying there next to in the ground. Instead he drifted off into an odd place, one that was comprised of entirely nothing—no, nothing wasn't the word, because the very fact that there is a word for nothingness makes it something. No, Pickles was in a place entirely devoid of everything, so much so that it was beyond the point of mere nothingness. It was emptier than empty, quieter than quiet, and lonelier than lonely. Words couldn't describe that place; Pickles was sure that if he tried to write down his thoughts about it, it would end up taking him one-hundred pages at least, probably more. Some creeping instinct inside of him—the same one that had told him that he couldn't wander too far away from his grave—said that this was Purgatory. Another part said that it was so desolate and utterly miserable that it had to be Hell. Either way, he laid there in wait, for what he didn't know, for what seemed like centuries. He didn't know what else to do, because there wasn't much he could do, so he waited and slept.

Then he heard that sweet, sorrowful voice that, when he had been alive, he'd adored so much. "Well, you've beens dead for three months now, but I just wants you to know that I still really misses you, Pickle. I thinks about you a lot, and everyone ams still really sad that you ams gone. I-I can't believe that you ams not here anymore."

This sent him spiraling out of that more-than-nothing zone of silence and Pickles sat up. He felt dirt fall from his stiffened limbs as he stood up. Just as he'd expected, Toki was standing right in front of him, his pale eyes full of tears as he said, "I really misses you, Pickle."

"I'm right here." he said, reaching for Toki's hand with his own dirt-encrusted one.

The Norwegian neither heard nor saw him, because in a moment he was sobbing and wailing, "Why ams you dead?"

"Look at me!" he yelled equally as loud and with as much sadness in his voice, "I'm right here!" he felt his eyes burning with tears as he touched the guitarist's hand and squeezed it. "Please see me, please..."

Toki tried to blink back his tears, but instead he just ended up wiping them away. Pickles stood there about a foot away trying to think of how to proceed. "Please," he whispered, "p-please see me. I need you so bad..." his voice broke unexpectedly then, and he was left to stand there feeling quite ashamed of himself.

He tried to pull the Norwegian into his arms, to embrace him forever, but he couldn't; his touch had no effect on the guitarist. He was left to stand there weeping, facing the only thing he'd ever loved and wanted in the world, unable to even whisper to him. Pickles wanted to comfort him, to tell him that it was okay, he was still there and always would be, just so long as Toki still needed him. He wanted so many things, but for some cruel, unimaginable reason he could have nothing.

{{}}{{}}{{}}

He spent the night sitting against his tombstone, never closing his eyes or allowing his thoughts to drift away and perhaps carry him off into that endless, more-than-nothing oblivion. It was then, as he watched light bugs dart across the massive yard of the Mordhaus, as he listened to the crickets and frogs sing their nighttime song, that he felt most alone and desperate. Death hadn't really been the terrifying thing for him, but this, the crushing solitude that he felt, knowing that nothing could be done about him, knowing that he had lost his voice, was the worst thing he'd ever experienced. He sat, ran his dirt-encrusted, blackened fingers thru the loose earth. He drew pictures in the dirt, using the moonlight as his only source of illumination. Slowly morning came, and he watched for the first time as the sun slowly crept above the Mordhaus. Had he ever seen a more beautiful sunrise?

Although his grave was under the cool shade of a tree, a few precious rays of the golden light still streamed thru the gaps in the branches and struck his filthy skin; he felt nothing. No warmth, no dampness from the early morning dew, not even a hint of chilliness from the breeze that cut thru the trees occasionally. Nothing. Perhaps that was truly death—a long, endless expanse of nothing. No emotion, no pain...

Nothing. No love?

Pickles sighed and hugged his knees to his chest. He'd never felt so powerless before, and it filled him with fear and shame. Tears bubbled to the surface, threatened to overtake him, but he wouldn't let them. He couldn't let himself lose control now, because he had a job to do. What that job was exactly, he had no clue. He just knew that something had to be done, and when he heard the sound of Toki's voice, he knew what it was.

The Norwegian's voice came out as a started half gasp of surprise, and an exclamation of fear. "P-Pickle?"

The drummer nodded and didn't bother to look up. He just responded with a simple, "Yeah, I'm here, you fucking idiot. I just wish you could see me..." but you can't. He began to sob. In an instant he felt a warm had on his shoulder, and he finally raised his head and looked up. Toki's pale eyes were wide, his mouth agape.

"H-Hey, Pickle." he said weakly, tears quickly rising to the corners of his eyes.

"I...uh..." he shook himself and blurted, "You can see me now?"

Toki just hesitated, took a step away, put his hands shyly behind his back. "Cans I..." his voice broke and he stood there trembling, wanting so badly to cry and shout. Pickles just sat up a little straighter and swallowed; he'd never wanted to see the guitarist like this, in so much pain and confusion. As if to answer his unspoken question, he nodded, but this didn't satisfy the guitarist. He had to ask it, to prove that this was all real. "Cans I maybe give you a hug?" Before he could really answer, the strength left Toki and he fell to his knees and hurried over into Pickles' arms. He embraced the drummer's cold frame tightly, all the while sobbing frantically, "Ams this a dream?"

He just buried his own tears and pulled Toki closer. He'd never felt anything so warm and inviting before; had he really been dead so long that he'd forgotten what it was like to have warm blood flowing thru his veins? "No, I don't think so," he whispered. "because this is too good to be a dream..."

They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, until the sun was high in the sky and Toki decided that he'd had enough. Finally he ended the hug and sat down beside Pickles, took one of the drummer's hands and squeezed it. "I can't believes it...are you alive?"

"No."

"Ams you dead?"

"No."

He frowned in confusion. "Then what ams you? Do you think that you ams alive?"

Pickles considered this notion then shook his head. "Nah, I'm pretty dead, I think."

"Then how comes you am still here? Ams part of you still alive and the rest of you ams just-"

"I don't know, dude." he admitted sadly. "I don't remember anything...I don't remember what it was like to die, only that I thought you were dead."

Toki gave him a weird look. "Why would I be dead? You ams the one who...never mind, I don't wants to talks about it." he scooted closer to Pickles; now he was sitting so close that their shoulders touched, and he still held the drummer's hand tightly. "I still hates to think about it."

"But I need to know." Pickles protested, leaning toward him. "Please—how did I die? Maybe if I knew, then..." then what? He would disappear into whatever was beyond this, a horrible existence of utter solitude and coldness. Would he finally be allowed to close his eyes and remain forever in that nothing-place? He didn't want this, not after his love had finally acknowledged him. He couldn't leave now. But still, something inside of him insisted, "I really need to know."

"I—it ams hard." Toki confessed, "And I still don't know if this ams real..."

"But it is!"

"This ams not fair, then!" the guitarist yelled, suddenly changing his mood completely. He released Pickles' hand and pushed him away. "I can't believe that you just ams here—that you've always been here—and now you wants me to talk about it like it ams nothing! Pickle, it wasn't just nothings to me, okay? When you died I...I just didn't know what to do..." he looked away and wiped his eyes off on his blue shirt. "...I couldn't think or breathe or talk...I lost my voice, and I couldn't even see anymores. Everything was just—nothing was happy. I couldn't be happy abouts anythings, it was like the life had gone away from everythings, and now you just want me to talks about it?"

"I'm sorry, you're right." he said, realizing the horrible mistake he'd made. "I'm just happy to see you, that's all. Yesterday I thought that you'd never see me again, and..." his voice trailed off and a question came into his mind. He looked deeply into Toki's eyes and asked, "Why didn't you see me yesterday? What's with the change?"

"I..." he stared sheepishly at the ground and murmured, "You can't tells anyone, but-"

"I'm dead. Who would I tell?"

"-Ofdensen gaves us medicine—all of us, to calm us downs—and I didn't takes it this morning. I just couldn't. It makes me feel so bad inside, even though it makes some of the memory of you gos away...when I takes it I don't feel likes I want to die, but still..."

"What's it called?" Pickles asked urgently.

Toki thought for a long while then finally said, "I'ms not sure, but it starts with an 'L'." he paused, observed the terrified look on the drummer's face, then added, "It makes me go crazy sometimes; I gots really angry a whiles and threw the whole bottle against the wall, and it cracked."

They were both silent for a long while. Toki just let a concerned look take over his face. He reached for Pickles' hand again, but the drummer pulled away and shook his head. "No...no way can this be real...I don't understand it, any of it. How can I be dead. Where did I go wrong? I don't remember..."

"Why ams you still here?" Toki finally asked, giving him a tender smile. "Ams you still holding on to something?"

"Nah, nat something. Someone."

A look of understanding came across the guitarist's face and he nodded. "Ah, okays, I gets it. I girl, right? Likes one whats you fucked, but you didn't know that you loves her, so now you ams-"

"Why do you assume it's a girl I'm after?" Pickles inquired innocently. Toki's eyes shined with misunderstanding as he cocked his head to the side in a bizarre display of confusion.

"Nots a girl? Then who? A...guy?"

Terror filled the inside of Pickles, boiled over into his every pore and nerve. Suddenly he was trembling, on the verge of sobbing. "No, nothing! Forget it, just don't say it!" What if Toki found out how he felt? Once again the fear of disappearing into the great unknown, of being finally wiped away from the surface of the Earth filled him, and he was left to sit there next to Toki petrified. He wanted to say it so badly, those three words that he was sure bound him here in his afterlife, but he couldn't. Fear held him down. Instead he just reached out, placed a hand on Toki's shoulder, and breathed shakily, "I can't tell you what I want, not yet. I'm not ready."

"Ready? What do you haves to be ready for?"

"To die."

Toki's face paled. "You...Pickle, you ams still here because you wants someone, but you don't want to finds them because you ams scared?"

He nodded. "Yeah, somethin' like that."

"Oh, Pickle..." his voice filled with sympathy, and in a moment he was hugging the drummer. "I don't know what to do—should I bring out Skwisgaar and lets him see you? I could tell Nathans, or-"

"No, you can't." he pulled Toki away from him and held his wrists, shook him in a desperate attempt to make him understand the severity of the situation, "You can nat do 'dat, never tell them about me, okay? They won't understand, I don't think that they'll see me like you do...I'm only ever gonna let you see me, because I..." love you.

"I don't understands, Pickle. We ams all really sad, so why can'ts I just—"

"No!" he cried. "If you do that then I'll leave you forever, never come back again, do you understand?"

"Don'ts leave!"

"Then don't tell them!"

Toki had a look of fear on his face as he said meekly, "I won't, Pickle. I'd never do anythings that you didn't want me to do; you always takes care of me, so I guess you know what you ams talking about." he fell once again into the drummer's arms and hugged him tightly, buried his face in the other man's shirt. "I still can't believes you've been here the whole time..."

"Toki, don't get me wrong, I wanna tell you, but I just can't."

"I understands."

"No, you don't. I really, really wanna tell you so maybe you could help me, but-"

"You don't trust me." he whispered into Pickles' chest. "I gets it."

His heart filled with guilt. "It's just...Toki, what did you think when I died? What did you say, what did you wanna say?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, what was the first thought that popped into your brain when you found out that I was gone—were you excited, were you-"

"No, don't ever says anything like that." Toki hissed, glaring up at Pickles. "I was hurts really bad."

"And what were you thinkin'?"

Silently, the guitarist sat up and sniffled. After a brief pause he met Pickles' emerald gaze and asked quietly, in a pained voice, "You ams trying to torture me."

"No I'm nat!" he said, shaking his head, gently resting a hand on Toki's leg. "Trust me, I know you don't get it now, but I need to know this."

"I...I..." his face reddened and he felt his heart grow cold. He said, embarrassed, "If I told you, you'd probably hates me."

"I could never-"

"I gots to go now." Toki said suddenly, rising to his feet. He turned, began to walk off, but stopped and looked back. "You will be here when I gets back, right?"

Pickles sighed and nodded. "Course I'll be here. I'll always be here." The Norwegian nodded and walked off, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his jeans. The drummer watched him go, powerless to follow. He just sat there staring as Toki's form disappeared into the Mordhaus; despite the wretchedness of his situation, Pickles couldn't help but smile as he thought of just how perfect the Norwegian looked walking away from him like that.