Toki sighed and rubbed at his brow. It always became so hot in the studio. So much that Skwisgaar had his shirt off. The lead guitarist, singer and bassist were at the soundboard, with Pickles and Toki recording. During a five-minute break, Toki leant against the wall, gasping for air in the stuffy room.

"How does you stands it, Pickle?" Toki whined, almost to the point of tears. Growing up in Norway didn't exactly prevent him from being immune to heat.

"Dood, I'm from Wiscahnsin," Pickles giggled. "Here. Let's 'ave sahm fun."

His hands were slick from sweat, and watched while Toki took off his guitar. He pounced on the young Norwegian and tickled him, laughing at the man's squeals and they rolled over, insulting one another jokingly. Toki got his own back by tickling the ridiculously sensitive skin of Pickles, who screamed and laughed so loud that the three men watching were sure they had gone deaf.

Toki was never usually critical unless something really bothered him. The fact that he could hear a baby's wailing, unable to place its location, was annoying him greatly. He didn't even know the time, but it was beginning to become brighter outside; it was far too early in the morning for this. Climbing out of bed and following the cries, he traced it to a room near Charles Ofdensen's office. It was knowledge to the band he had a young daughter and she stayed in Mordhaus during his time there, but no one aside from the manager really caught any glimpse of her. She was only at least a few months old, according to him. Toki was surprised when he peeked his head around the door, glad he was in the shadows.

Pickles was standing at the cot, holding the baby close to him, letting it wail into his chest as he rocked it gently, quietly singing a lullaby in Toki's native language. The rhythm guitarist had sang to him, too.

"Hush, hush, baby..." he whispered softly, assuaging its cries, mostly to prevent Nathan from screaming Mordhaus down in frustration. Charles would obviously be grateful, but other than that, Pickles didn't really understand why he was doing it. To Toki, it was strange to see him so gentle to a child, but it also warmed his heart greatly and a rush of pride flowed through him. As far as Toki knew, Pickles had never really had any experience of being a father.

But when he caught sight of Pickles' face, he realised that it wasn't just the baby who was crying.

The guitar in the studio was rarely used by Toki. For everything else, he had truckloads of Flying V guitars in his room and scattered all over Mordhaus. Pickles thought it was funny how the Flying V he appeared to use most had been given a name, as well as the majority of the other ones. While himself and Toki were jamming in the studio, he stopped halfway through a practice of 'Birthday Dethday' and began to curse at his guitar.

"I's sorries, Pickle...mitt våpen is nots wantings to co-poperates."

The drummer blinked from behind the kit. "What does mitt...waht-ever ya said mean?"

"It means my weapon...meg elske."

"And dat? I ce-an't underste-and ya, Toki."

The rhythm guitarist walked over to Pickles, bent over the bass drum, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. Pickles just hoped they'd shut the door, but eventually responded.

"It means...mines love..."

Pickles smiled.

Mordhaus had an extremely high mortality rate. As a result of this, Pickles returned to the living room, injured - blood trickling down his leg and a noticeable limp.

Toki made him sit down while he looked at the wound. "Pickle, what happeneds to you?"

"Couple'a stoopid fe-ans got in here and they were so crazy dat they me-anaged to attack me. I'm goin' to da hospital tamorrow with Ahfdensen. Quit fussin', Toki."

"But you're hurts, Pickle..."

Even though Pickles was trying to assuage Toki, assuring him he was fine, he was clearly in pain. His face seemed tight and strained. Of course, Charles took him to the hospital, promising Pickles would be fine within a few days. But Toki knew what Mordhaus was like, and would never stop fearing that each time Pickles was hurt, eventually, one time would be his last.

Pickles had undergone a minor surgery to repair the torn muscle in his leg. The band visited him occasionally, but Toki was desperate. When Charles confirmed to Dethklok that Pickles had just come out of a successful surgery, Toki had cried and demanded to see him. Now he was in the waiting room, he felt nauseous and nervous, even with Charles close behind him.

"It's alright, Toki. He'll be very pleased to see you."

Toki took surprise in this and nervously, walked through the door into the blindingly white, bright ward. Pickles stood out, his hair a fiery red, and his eyes hadn't lost their emerald shine. He was reading a magazine, looking quite content and happy with his surroundings. Charles left them be, and when Pickles noticed the rhythm guitarist, he did nothing but smile.

"I missed ya."

"I's sorries for not beings theres, Pickle...I misses you too."

They met in a kiss.