A/N Italics are Norwegian/Swedish
Disclaimer: I don't own Metalocalypse
After the call the frontman collapsed heavily beside Toki and Skwisgaar, opening the door for the others to do the same. Pickles passed out almost immediately, and Toki looked at him worriedly.
"Is he okay?" Toki asked, looking up at Skwisgaar.
"Yeah, he's alright. Just really drunk, and probably high too. Listen, Toki, was it? I'm sorry for acting as I did. I am very tired," Skwisgaar tried to smile, but it made the muscles in his face pull strangely and came out looking more like a grimace.
"It's alright, I understand," Toki smiled as well, but his was innocent and true, too happy for what he'd obviously gone through. Skwisgaar patted his back and lay back on the floor, his spine popping noisily. "You don't have to sleep on the floor, at least not all of you. There are two beds upstairs," Toki stated then.
"What the hell is he saying Skwisgaar?" Magnus asked with annoyance, not liking the feeling of being ostracized by the two foreigners.
"He ams sayings dat dere is two beds upstairs dat we can use," Skwisgaar smirked at the lead guitarist, for once feeling superior to the other man and enjoying it. Murderface, upon hearing this, immediately called dibs and ran upstairs. Nathan followed after him slowly, grumbling about dumbass bassists who thought they actually mattered. Skwisgaar sat up and glared after them, having wanted one of the beds for himself.
"You need to teach the kid English so he can fucking talk with the rest of us. No way in hell he'll want to come along if he can only talk to you," Magnus glared, crossing his arms over his bare chest and shivering a bit. Toki walked out of the room for a moment and came back with a fleece blanket which he handed to the older man. Magnus patted his head as though he were a dog and smiled gratefully, bringing another smile to the Norwegian boy's face.
"You did not have to do that Toki. He is useless, it is better if he freezes," Skwisgaar smirked at the man, and Toki gasped.
"Why do you say that about your bandmate? Aren't you supposed to be friends?" he wondered innocently. Skwisgaar scoffed.
"He is terrible. I am a better guitarist than him, yet he gets to play lead, and he insults my playing. I am the fastest guitarist in the world, I deserve better."
"You two are the guitarists? Will you both play for me? I love the way you sound on your albums," Toki smiled happily again, disregarding the insults Skwisgaar had heaped upon the man, and instead looking up at the blonde with unveiled hope in his eyes. Skwisgaar smiled again, having gained a fondness for the boy quite quickly, and nodded. Toki laughed happily, and ran over to the blonde's guitar case.
"What does he want?" Magnus asked, looking at the boy with a quirked brow as he carried the Gibson over to Skwisgaar.
"He ams to be wantings us to play for hims," Skwisgaar said.
"Good, I can show him he shouldn't make friends with cocky Swedes," Magnus smirked, getting out his own guitar. Toki sat, cross-legged and thrilled, before them, and they broke out into the fast riffs of one of their songs. Toki clapped when they finished, and Magnus, thinking it was meant for him, grinned.
"How do you say 'thank you' in Norwegian?"
"Takk," Skwisgaar said unwillingly, and Magnus repeated it.
"You are both welcome. And you should not insult each other, you both play wonderfully. Much better than I do," Toki smiled, laying back and exposing a bit of his pale stomach. Magnus caught himself staring and looked away. Skwisgaar pulled the shirt down and lay down beside him, his guitar now safely put away. Magnus moved to the boy's other side to, in his words, avoid looking at the fucking blonde asshole, and the three went to sleep silently, the blanket Toki had brought Magnus stretched across all of them except Pickles, who snored loudly a few feet away.
The shopkeeper unlocked the door the next morning, a happy smile on his face when he saw how soundly the boy, who'd become like a son to him, slept. A thin, almost gaunt man in a charcoal gray suit walked in behind him, and sighed once more.
"Where ah, are the others?" he asked the man.
"Probably upstairs. I've got a couple of beds up there. I can go get them if you like," the man said, shrugging.
"Please do," he said, crouching down to awaken the three under the blanket. He didn't bother to try and awaken Pickles.
By the time he'd gotten all three of them up and allowed Skwisgaar to finish his morning cussing Nathan and Murderface had been roused and sent downstairs. Nathan kicked Pickles in the stomach a few times, and when he didn't move he bent down and slung the man over his shoulder.
"Are you sure that man is alright?" Toki asked, his head cocked to the side, much like a puppy.
"He is. This happens very often. We'll be lucky if he's awake when we get to Oslo, the damn drunk," Skwisgaar rolled his eyes, but his words were fond, unlike the ones he'd given Magnus the night before. Toki nodded.
"So, this is the boy you guys wanted to ah, take?" Charles asked, scrutinizing the young man, who shifted under his intense stare.
"Yeah. His family is fucked up, so we're taking him," Nathan said, a simple explanation for a complicated situation.
"Nathan, it isn't that simple. There are a lot of legal, ah, issues, to say the least," Charles said in a last ditch attempt to change the frontman's mind. It was fruitless, for Nathan only looked at him once and told him to deal with it, before walking out and getting into the limo that would take them out of the town and back to the bus, which had broken down here in the middle of nowhere just after the storm eased up. Magnus, Murderface, Skwisgaar, and Toki followed closely behind. Charles sighed, pushed his glasses up on his nose, and started making phone calls. Toki was free and clear by the time the bus was rolling.