All his life, Toki had told himself that he'd die for Skwisgaar. To be like Skwisgaar. If it got the lead guitarist to empathize with him, Toki would have done it in an instant. Of course, no one could see the logic in it. Murderface said it was dumb, Nathan said he didn't want to lose his rhythm guitarist to something as stupid as that, and Skwisgaar found it irritating.

Until Pickles confronted him.

"Skwisgaar, do ya even realise waht that kid's sayin'?" Pickles cried, not even caring he was in full view of Nathan, Murderface, and Toki himself. "He said he'd die for you. Die for ya! And I thought it was stupid, and I still think dat! He wants ta be jest like you, Skwisgaar, can't ya consider his feelings fer once? Yer an arrogant fucking arsehole, and that kid fucking loves ya to bits!"

He stormed out of the room, Toki following like he usually did, holding the now-sobbing drummer close, whispering Norwegian words of comfort, love, while the drummer just cried.

That evening, Skwisgaar came into Toki's room and began to teach him the solo from 'Thunderhorse'.

Pickles and Toki had been alone together, but this was in a different context. Alone together. Somehow, Dethklok had kept themselves away from them that night, Nathan asking them to go dance to some 'un-brutal' artist like Cyndi Lauper. Pickles obliged, with a confused Toki in tow. However, once in Pickles' room, he locked the door and Toki was terrified he would mess it up like an awkward teenager.

Then he kissed him and his doubts were immediately vanquished.

The stage was so stifling. Toki wiped the sweat from his brow during a bass solo from Murderface, and then carried on. His dream. Pickles' dream. Their dream.

Laser lights flashed, courtesy of Nathan, the temperature increased as the bodies of ninety thousand Dethklok disciples moshed together, dancing the waltz of death, their sweat and heat mixing into the air and it was suffocating. Pickles didn't stop, didn't falter. He bashed at the drums, the passion in his eyes fuelling him. Out of the corner, he watched Toki. Compared him to Skwisgaar. The lead seemed so robotic, the rhythm was moving, jumping, held so much love and devotion for the guitar.

In the final notes of 'Murmaider', as the band were going offstage, Pickles rushed up to Toki and kissed him wildly on the lips. "Dood, you were fuckin' brilliant out there...I'm proud of ya, babe."

Met with wolf-whistles and cheering, they hadn't quite made it off stage yet.

"Pickle..." Toki sighed. "You won'ts leave, wills you?"

His head twisted to face him, marvelling at his beauty. They were relaxing in the hot tub after the show, though not all of Dethklok were present. Murderface had gone to bed, but Skwisgaar insisted they stay up late to practice 'brutality'. The redhead and the Norwegian sat close together.

"Why would ya think dat?"

He felt his stomach lighten. Pickles meant it. He really meant it. He cuddled against him, enjoying the feel of warm water up to his mid-chest like a large blanket, and Pickles there next to him. His free arm enclosed him, the other holding a drink. He was there. Toki wasn't really alone anymore.

Black fire upon Mordhaus. It seemed as if the entire world was going to end. Silent tears ran down Toki's face as he gazed into the sky with the rest of Dethklok missing. Firmly closing his eyes, he tried to fight back the tears, but they didn't stop. Pickles. He's out there, he's fighting them...he'll be alright. Toki wouldn't let anything happen to Dethklok.

Just as he was about to turn away, he felt a pair of lithe arms immediately pull him backwards and against a lean body, and Toki burst into more fits of tears when he realised it was Pickles. The drummer's face was black with soot, his face red, but his eyes still glittering and his lips still smiling. "I prahmised, Toki...I prahmised I'd come back...they're naht gonna hurt you..."

Toki just cried.