Chapter 3, Part 1
New Town, Bad News
More trudging thru mud, trying to ignore the pleasurable weather of the new day coupled with the wonderful Irish countryside. That was all that awaited them for the future of that day, until they came upon yet another town. Pickles didn't even look for a bar, though. This time he was smart; he and Toki just planned to walk right thru it. They couldn't help but hesitate, however, when they came across a newsstand. As they passed it, Pickles stopped dead in his tracks, grabbed one of the news papers, and read the front page, letting out little whimpers of fear. Toki peered over his shoulder, a brow raised in confusion.
"What ams wrong?"
"I...they're...look!" he held out the paper to the Norwegian and pointed to the main headline. DETHKLOK DRUMMER AND RHYTHM GUITARIST TO BE REPLACED. Toki saw it, but shook his head, a puzzled look on his face.
"What does this means? I can't reads Eng-"
"They're kickin' us outta the band, Toki!" he cried, throwing the newspaper to the floor and falling back onto the newsstand. His green eyes were wide and he was nearly hyperventilating. Desperately he dug in the pocket of his pants, looking for his old asthma inhaler that he sometimes had to use. Of course it wasn't there. Just great. He was left to just stand there and tremble, nearly fall into a sort of mania over the news. "They can't, can they? What the hell—I'm gonna have to m-move back to my parent's garage an'...oh my Gad, oh my Gad, oh my-"
Toki frowned, picked up the paper, and folded it. He gently placed it back on the stand, and let out a deep, calm breath. "Pickle," he said, his voice a mellow hum of comfort. "you gots to calms down before you haves a fucking heart attack or something."
"They can't kick me out of 'dat band!" he sobbed dryly, letting his head fall into his hands. He didn't know what to do—cry, yell, kill someone...he wanted to take his anger out on so many things, but just didn't know how to go about doing it. Instead he sat there, panting and trying not to have a panic attack in the middle of the street. He grabbed Toki's shoulder in a death grip and said breathlessly, "I can't breathe..."
"Ja you cans." he said, giving him an odd look. "Just gos like this-" he inhaled sharply, and then let out the breath. Pickles repeated this, but it didn't help much. Instead he just shut his eyes tightly and began muttering to himself.
"They can't do 'dat, there's no way; I'm Pickles, Pickles the Drummer from Dethklok..."
"And I'ms Toki Wartooth from Dethklok, but it ams going to be okay." the guitarist said, giving him a small, encouraging smile. "Reallys, it ams fine."
"F-Fine? How the fuck do you think this is fine?" when he said nothing, the drummer scoffed. "It ain't just fine! We're gone for a few days and they replace us—me? How the fuck could they do this? Those fuckin' assholes! They were like my family, they were like my Gad damn brothers! They-"
"No they weren't." Toki interrupted, shaking his head. "It never was abouts each other, just the moneys. The band never was-" he shrugged and said gently, trying not to make Pickles spiral into another panic attack, "-you knows, togethers. We all just sorts of screwed each other overs and dids our own thing."
"I know, but—what about you? You told me it wasn't about the money." he said, looking down. "What was it about then if the money didn't matter? What was the whole point?"
Toki shrugged. "I don'ts knows."
"The fame?"
"Not reallys," he said, shaking his head. "I could have lived withouts that."
"The girls?"
"I don't really likes them anyways. They annoys me."
"Then what? The music?"
Toki smiled. "Ja, maybe that was it. I really did loves the music, but you guys was always betters. You was likes my family."
"Then why're we goin' to Norway, then?" Pickles inquired cluelessly. "If we're your family, then why are you goin' home?"
"You haves to leave your family eventuallys, Pickle." he answered, walking away from the newsstand. "Maybe one days you'll finally gets it."
Together they continued thru the town; they had no money, couldn't buy food or water, a hotel, or any of the luxuries that they had been indulged with in their former life. As they walked, Pickles' stomach let out a loud growl. He smacked his lips and sighed. He still had a headache, and now his stomach was aching so badly with hunger that he could barley walk. He looked over and noticed that although Toki appeared to be his usual happy, childish self, a hint of hunger and misery shone behind his eyes as they walked. Would they ever get home?
: :: : :::: :: : :::: :: : :::: :: : :::
Chapter 3, Part 2
Signs Of Salvation
Three hours later they were staring down the edge of a cliff, watching waves crash against the jagged rocks below. Toki swallowed. "Boy, that ams a long fall, huh Pickle?" He nodded and sat down in the ledge, let his feet dangle off the edge. The Norwegian's eyes grew wide as he hurried to push the drummer back onto solid land. "What if you falls and die?"
"I'm nat gonna fall. Besides, what else are we supposed to do? The road ends here, dude; no more fuckin' dirt trails to hike thru and no more signs to follow. This is just it. Where else are we supposed t'go?" he asked, indicating the endless rolling hills that lay beyond the water's shoreline. There appeared to be several miles of land to travel, and their rode had disappeared here, a few feet from the cliff. They were lost, staring down at a deep body of water that neither of them knew the name of.
Toki was still holding his deddy bear close to his mud-encrusted shirt. He scratched his cheek distractedly, rubbed off some of the earth that was caked there, and stared down at the water. A slow, steady smile grew across his face as he stood there hugging his stuffed animal. Pickles didn't notice. He was too busy looking up and watching the clouds roll lazily from one side of the sky to the other. He hardly noticed it when Toki sat down next to him and began unlacing his boots. He handed them to the drummer.
"Holds these, please."
"Yeah, sure, whatever."
And Toki grinned walked over to the edge of the high cliff, and, without hesitation, leaped down into the crashing waters below. As soon as heard the splash, Pickles blinked himself out of his daydream and looked around. "Toki? Toki, where the fuck are you?" he noticed that he was holding the guitarist's boots. He laid them to the side and cautiously peered over the edge of the cliff. Toki was down below, floating on his back in the waves. Pickles sighed in annoyance. "Toki, you stupid dick! Why the hell did you jump aff the damn-"
"Hey, Pickle, guess what?" he called up to him, spitting out a mouthful of water.
"What?"
"I'ms swimming!"
He nodded. "Yeah, I know."
"Comes swim with me!"
He looked around as if afraid to be seen as he took off his shoes. What the hell did he have to lose? He was probably doomed to die in this Irish hell anyway, so he quickly unlaced his sneakers, threw them to the side, and ran off the cliff. It was a wonderful sensation to experience, that feeling of being lighter than air and then falling into the perfectly cool waves below. He fell into the water with a splash and immediately swam to the surface, panting for breath and laughing.
"This is stupid, dude, so fuckin' dumb."
Toki hadn't stopped smiling; he shrugged, dived under the waves, then floated on his back, flexing his toes in the water as if it were the most puzzling sensation in the world. "At least we ams not so gross and muddy no mores." he ran a hand thru his brown hair, which was now a deep jet black from the water. On his chest rested his beloved deddy bear, its gleaming button-eyes staring up at the sun. "My bear ams happy now, too. He don't looks as sick, does he?"
"Nope, he looks good."
"I knows." he began whistling a happy tune, grabbed his bear, and dived under the water again. Pickles followed him and they swam beneath the churning surface of the lake for about thirty seconds before coming up again for air.
They swam for about an hour before getting out again and laying down on the shore to dry off; they stayed there and threw sand, rocks, and shells at each other for another twenty minutes before getting up and following a trail that lead up back to the top of the cliff. They got their shoes, and just like that they were back where they had been an hour and twenty minutes ago. They were, like so many times before, back at square one.
: :: : :::: :: : :::: :: : :::: :: : :::
Chapter 3, Part 4
Miracle In Dublin
More walking and soon they were in, thankfully enough, Dublin. It was early the next morning, but somehow they had made it just as the sun rose and the clock struck seven. Pickles looked around, took in the aroma of something fresh and delicious, something that he remembered from home. He glanced over at Toki and smiled.
"You smell that? Smells like coffee, huh?"
He nodded and sighed. He looked so tired, with dark circles ringing his once placidly shining eyes. "Ja, it does. I sures wish I hads some coffee."
"Then let's go get some."
"But we don't haves any money."
He shrugged and pointed to a bench. "Just go sit over there and in a little while I'll be back with some coffee."
"Buts-"
"Just trust me. I know what I'm doin'." he guided the guitarist over to the bench and had him sit down with his teddy bear. Once that was done, he turned and walked around the corner, sniffing out the coffee. While Pickles was gone, Toki laid down on the cool bench and had himself a little nap before being woken up again.
The drummer sat next to him as they drank their coffee. It was like a miracle, like a planned vacation. How was it that instead of ending up in some abandoned, frozen wasteland they'd been sent here, to this wonderfully green city? Pickles pondered this as he glanced over and watched Toki blow the steam from his coffee, close his eyes, and take a deep drink. He noticed now just how purely good the guitarist was for putting up with him thru all of this, how amazingly tolerant and, in a way, just plain perfect he was.
"Heys, Pickle?"
"Huh?"
"I've gots to go home now, huh? Backs to Norway on that plane?"
He nodded and sipped his coffee. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Oh..." a pause then, "Ams you going to come with me, or just flys straight back home?"
"I don't know." the drummer admitted. "I never really thought about it."
"Huh." Toki chuckled and said thoughtfully, "Kinds of a funny thing not to thinks about, huh?"
"I just never thought we'd actually get here." Pickles said almost sadly. "I just never thought-" he cut himself off before he could become fully and wholly emotional. The Norwegian peered over at him and smiled curiously.
"Whats?"
"I just...you really wanna go away from me—from everything?"
"Nots you. I could stays here and just hangs out with you forever, but it won't gets me anywhere."
"Oh," he said, nodding. "yeah, I get it." and he drank the rest of his coffee and threw the cup in a nearby trashcan before looking down the busy street. "Maybe we should start tryin' to get to the airport, huh? You gatta catch your plane."
"Buts...you wants me to go?"
"No, but if you wanna just leave everything and-"
"Leaves everything?" he asked, rising from his seat and grabbing his deddy bear. "You means like quit, right?"
Pickles shook his head. "Nah, you're nat quitting, you're just...ah crap, Toki, I really, really don't wanna be the one to say goodbye to you." and he kicked at a stone that was on the ground and mumbled, "I wish I'd never come."
Toki sighed. "Stills about that, huh? Well here ams an idea—I'll gos to the airport alones so you won't be bothered by tellings me bye, okays?" he meant to voice this idea as a way to bring Pickles some kind of comfort, a last act of kindness so to speak. They'd never see each other after this, so Toki really wanted him to just be spared any pain or regret. The words, however, were taken the wrong way. For some absurd reason, they cut the drummer deeply, and sparked a little bit of anger in him.
"But I-"
"Nos, it ams fine. I gets it, I really dos. I'll sees you later—no, actuallys I won't. Goodbye, Pickle." he turned and walked away, but the drummer followed him anyway.
"Why do you freak out at everything I say?"
"You always says the wrong things." he commented, trying to hide the pain that was on his face. He didn't want to say goodbye, not now. Anytime other than now, maybe, but not now...he was about to cry. "Likes how you wish you was never here..."
"I didn't mean it like 'dat!"
"Well you saids it like that, now leaves me alone!" he went and walked around the corner, left Pickles alone to be pushed and shoved by the crowd of people around him. The drummer stood there not understanding what had just happened, just knowing that he didn't have a way with words at all. How would Toki get to the airport? He didn't know how to read English or even—it hit him just as he looked out into the bustling street and watched a bus drive by. Pickles tried to get the look the confusion and pain from his face. He had to find the nearest bus stop.
It was an odd thing—this whole trip he'd known that the only reason that he was here was to let Toki go, to tell him goodbye, but now that the time had actually come he found this quite impossible. Toki was his, should never be parted from him, not for a moment; he was like the funnier, more absurd part of him that had dissolved long ago in the constant brutality of Dethklok. What if the guitarist went to Norway and lost this boyish sort of charming immaturity that Pickles loved so much? The drummer felt his heart pounding in his ears as he hurried and pushed past people. This was hopeless, he quickly realized. There were just too many people, too many overlapping faces and voices—it was overwhelming.
In an instant he was devoured by the insanity of Dublin, and it was like he was back with the band trying to drown out the crying and screaming fans. He remembered once how Toki had come up to him backstage after a show and said over the noise of the fans, "Can I ask you somethings?"
"Sure, what?"
"All these peoples, the fans and stuffs—they say they loves us, and they shouts out, 'Hey, Toki Wartooth, we loves you,' but they don'ts really, do they?"
Pickles had arched a brow. This was an oddly mature question from the guitarist. "I...I dunno, dude. I guess nat."
"Well if they don't loves us, then who does?"
"Nobody, I guess."
"Oh." he looked down, seemed so pitiful and gloomy that Pickles had no choice but to gently drape an arm over his shoulders and pull him into a brief embrace.
"S'okay, though. People like us, we're so brutal that we don't need love."
This didn't seem to help Toki, though. He just looked down and asked quietly, his voice a whisper in the drummer's ear, "Well if none of thems or nobody else loves us, cans we just loves each other?"
"I-"
"Just likes a secret loves, so it ams still brutal and metal and all that stupid crap?"
And his mind came back to the present just as he realized that, despite everything that had been said over the past few days and since then, he actually did love Toki. The Norwegian was the only person in the world who—he was just the only person in the whole world, that was it. He was the only thing that mattered, the only thing that was important, and the only thing that could absolutely kill Pickles and rip him apart. This concept did scare the drummer—terrified him beyond any form of rational thought, actually—but he found that he couldn't help it. The feeling was there and he knew it would never leave, not until he found Toki.
: :: : :::: :: : :::: :: : :::: :: : :::
Chapter 3, Part 5
Make It Good Again
Toki sat on the last seat of a bus, hugging his deddy bear tightly to him in an effort to quell the growing anxiety inside of his heart. He was leaving, he was really doing it. Would he get jealous when he heard who Dethklok had gotten to replace him? Probably. Would anyone even miss him? More importantly, would Pickles miss him?
Just as the bus began to depart from the stop, it braked and opened its doors again. A wild-eyed, orange-haired man stepped on. Toki sank down low in his seat, determined not to let Pickles see him, but it was too late; he was already pushing past people and walking over to him. Roughly, he pulled the Norwegian out of his seat and urged him to the front of the bus.
"Get aff this Gad damn bus now."
"Fucks you." he said, sitting in the lap of another passenger. "I'm not leavings."
Pickles wouldn't accept this. He leaned forward and whispered in the guitarist's ear, still panting from having to stop the bus from driving away, "Listen here, you obnoxious little cack-sucker, I just ran thru a whole city, thru traffic, thru green lights, and flagged down a fuckin' bus just to get you, so I don't really give a living hell what you want, you're getting aff."
The guitarist just flashed him a boyishly daring smile and challenged, "That ams nice, but what ams a cack?"
"Fuck you, cock-sucker." he retorted as he stood up to his full height. "So, what're you gonna do, sit here in this dude's lap, or come with me?"
"Guess I'm sittings here."
"Hmm. Sorry you think that, 'cause you're nat." he carefully scooped Toki up into his arms, and pushed past people until he had reached the front of the bus. Just before he exited, he turned to the driver and grinned. "Thanks," he said gratefully. "for, y'know, pullin' over and everything." the man just nodded and watched the two men get off.
Pickles watched the bus drive off down the busy Dublin road as Toki fought to get on his own feet. "Lets me go, you idiots! This ams so-"
"Stupid?"
"Gays."
He sighed and let Toki climb out of his arms. The guitarist glared at him and turned to walk away, but Pickles stopped him and pulled him back. "Listen, I'm sorry for everything. The truth is, that I really, really do care the world for you, dude."
"So you wants to goes with me to Lillehammer?"
He nodded and said eagerly, "Fuck, I'll go there and stay if you want me to." it was more than a joking suggestion, he was halfway serious. Toki just shook his head and laughed at this, though. The drummer felt a little pricking pain enter his heart, but decided to ignore it. "Seriously, I'm glad that we're here together."
"Sos ams I, I guess." he admitted.
"So we're gonna go catch that plane?"
He thought for a moment then nodded. "Ja, sures." he took Pickles' hand and lead him down the street, a smile on his face.
Not bad, Pickles thought. Maybe I'm not a total fuck-up after all...
An hour later they were off from the airport, and Toki was once again sleeping soundly on the drummer's shoulder. There had, of course, been some complications in the airport. The two had ended up convincing a couple of fans to give them their jackets and their tickets, but in the end it had all worked out. For once they were actually grateful for the fans. Now they sat snug and content in their seats, wrapped up in jackets and sharing one another's warmth. For that one moment everything seemed perfect, at least until they landed in Lillehammer.
: :: : :::: :: : :::: :: : :::: :: : :::
**A/N**
The reason that I'll really be cranking out chapters is mainly because I want to move on to my next fic. I've already given you several hints as to what it will revolve around. Several. Anyways, reviews are appreciated and all that good stuff and I guess that's all I have to say. Only a few more chapters left.
Peace & Love