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**WARNINGS**

Hey, it's slash...Pickles/Toki.

Drug/Alcohol usage

Bad Language

All that good stuff.

If you don't like, don't read.

**DISCLAIMER**

None of the characters are mine.

Reviews are love.

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"What is this I feel, why is it so real
What am I to say
It's only love, it's only pain
It's only fear, that runs through my veins
It's all the things you can't explain
That make us human"

~Civil Twilight, Human

Chapter 1, Part 1

Things Lost

A SCREAM, THE SOUND OF METAL SCRAPING PAVEMENT...everything goes black.

Pickles couldn't remember anything, only hurt and fear. He shifted a little and let out a painful groan. His voice broke as he asked thickly, "Huh? What happened?"

A voice came to him, awakening memories of flashing lights and the sirens of ambulances. "Pickles, are you awake?" Ofdensen asked. There came a long, heavy pause before he continued, "If you can hear me, just open your eyes or something."

Was it just him, or did Ofdensen sound uncharacteristically worried? The drummer let out another groan and with some difficulty, cracked open an eye. "I...uh..." he tried to sit up, but someone was holding him down. "Wh...What happened?"

He realized that what was holding him down was Ofdensen. His hand was resting firmly on the drummer's shoulder, gripping it so securely that it was painful. "Pickles," he said, "something's happened..."

The drummer's heart filled with a dull, pounding fear. He reached up, rubbed his eyes, and asked, "What happened?"

"Pickles?"

"Huh, yeah?"

"Do you..." Ofdensen hesitated before asking finally, "...can you tell me your name?"

He opened his eyes now and stared up at him. "Course I can," he said slowly, "I'm Pickles the drummer." The other man nodded in almost a solemn way and didn't speak again until Pickles asked, "Hey, dude, what the fuck happened? Who was drivin'?"

He didn't remember much, but each minute that he spent awake he began reliving it...there had been a crash? He couldn't recall what he had felt, only that he had rolled his head to his left on the pavement—he had been lying face-down against the cold, gasoline-soaked road—and he had seen Toki lying there facing him. His pale blue eyes were closed, and blood tricked out of a corner of his mouth...

"Pickles," Ofdensen said, breaking the drummer away from his thoughts, "please try and stay calm."

"What happened?" he yelled. The own volume of his voice surprised him, but it didn't seem to rattle Ofdensen, who just removed his hand from Pickles' shoulder and went to sit on a chair beside the hospital bed.

...blood had been dripping from Toki's mouth, but he wasn't dead. The drummer knew he was still alive because he was reaching out, groping at the pavement with an empty hand. Pickles was numb. He laid there and let the Norwegian take his hand and squeeze it...

"Where are 'dey?" Pickles asked, looking down. "Where are the others?"

"Pickles, this is hard for me to say, but they're-"

...Nathan had been driving. They had just been going out for a few beers, trying to cut loose from their time spent in the studio working on the new album—just trying to be regular jack-offs. But no one knew how drunk Nathan was until they started driving home...

"-all okay."

The drummer looked up, a look of shock on his face. "They're...what?"

"Okay," Ofdensen said, sighing a little. "They're all fine, but the accident was bad."

"Even Toki? He's okay?"

He gave the drummer a nod and said reassuringly, "Yes, Pickles, they're all fine. Even Toki." he paused before continuing, "But something very bad has happened. The accident was horrible..."

...A scream echoed thru the dark streets as the Dethcycle skidded off the road. It had been Toki who had screamed, an instant before his body hit the pavement. Skwisgaar yelled out profanities, his Swedish dialect clearly distinguishable from the rest of Dethklok's cries...

"...the accident was bad," Ofdensen repeated again, shaking his head. "Do you remember much?"

"I...uh, yeah," Pickles said, struggling to bring his mind back to the present. "I remember lots, I guess, but is everyone okay? Nobody—I dunno—died, did they?"

"No, I already told you that everyone's fine."

Pickles felt a little spark of anger flutter into his stomach, but he swallowed it down and asked, "Fine, but what's so bad about it if everyone's okay?"

"That's just it," Ofdensen said. "Everyone's not okay. You see, the accident was so bad that..." he sighed and wondered aloud, "How should I say this?"

"Say what?"

"The accident was so bad that you're really the only one who remembers anything."

He arched a pierced brow. "Only I...huh? Is 'dat it? So what if 'dey don't remember the stupid crash, at least they're all-"

"No, Pickles," Ofdensen broke in. "It's not just the accident that they've forgotten. It's everything."

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Chapter 1, Part 2

Regrouping

Pickles smiled awkwardly as he boarded the Dethcopter. The others were staring at him blankly. All of them had just checked out of the hospital; it had been a few days since the accident, and the doctors had said that they were all in good condition to begin continuing everyday life. The doctors also had analyzed Skwisgaar, Murderface, Toki, and Nathan and said that their memories would hopefully return to them in a short time. What they needed right now was a stimulus to keep their minds occupied and in the present.

In short, they had said, Pickles was pretty much singlehandedly in charge of Dethklok until the others regained their memory, and it was his job to help them reach that point.

As the drummer stepped on the Dethcopter and took his seat, it all seemed so hopeless. Nathan glared at Ofdensen and asked, "Hey, whose he?"

"That's Pickles. He's your drummer."

Pickles sat down next to Toki, biting his lip a little. Nathan was staring at him, his eyes full of hatred. "Yeah, well, I don't like him; he looks like a prick."

"Hey!" he exclaimed.

Next to him, Toki let out a little sigh and said, "Why we needs drummer again?"

Pickles' eyes grew wide. "You're kidding!" he stared at Ofdensen and asked, "You didn't tell them that we're a fucking band?"

He nodded. "I did. I told them that they were part of the most famous metal band in the world, but they didn't believe me."

"Ja, okay, so we sings metal?" Skwisgaar asked. Next to him was his old guitar, his Gibson. Only, unlike usual, he wasn't strumming it or even touching it. He sat staring at Ofdensen with a brow raised.

Pickles couldn't take it; he let his head fall into his hands. "No, Skwisgaar, you don't sing! Nathan sings!"

"Oh. Then why ammnest I in 'de bands?"

" 'Cause you're the fastest fucking guitarist in the whole world!"

"Then what ams I?" Toki questioned. " 'Cause that guy-" he pointed to Ofdensen, "-says I'm guitarist too!"

"Because you are," Pickles explained. "only your the second fastest."

"Why can'ts I be first fastest-est?"

"I dunno..." he glanced over at Skwisgaar, expecting him to say something that he usually did, like 'You can'ts be first fastest-skest because I am fastestkest.' or something like that. He didn't. Instead the blond glanced back over at his Gibson and began picking at his nails.

"Yes, well, it looks like you've got a handle on the situation, Pickles," Ofdensen said as he edged towards the door. "I'll just go see what's taking us so long to get off the ground."

"Wait, but-"

He went out the door. Pickles sighed and crossed his arms over his chest moodily. This was not fair at all, that he and he alone was in charge of putting Dethklok back together again...suddenly he got an idea. He could reform Dethklok any way he wanted now...he could be the leader...

"Hey, dildo, what are you shmiling at?" Murderface inquired. Pickles looked up and shrugged.

"I dunno, I was just thinkin'."

"Yeah, well I wash too, and I wash jusht wondering if you could tell ush what'sh up." he said. " 'Caushe that other guy that jusht left shaid that you're the only one out of all of ush that remembersh anything."

"Yeah, I guess, but I don't think you'd really want to know you're jab," Pickles said with a grin. Murderface nodded.

"Yeah, I wanna know, you Wishconshin dildo!"

"You play bass."

He frowned. "That'sh bad?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, the dude who plays bass gets, like, virtually no hot-slut-fan-chick ass. 'Dats usually for you, Skwisgaar." he addressed the guitarist and said, "Chicks can't get enough of you."

The Swede looked up and asked, "Whats?"

Pickles shrugged and said casually, "Oh, nothin', I was just sayin' about how you're always the one who fucks with the fan girls. I mean, me and Nathan usually get a lot of ass, but you...Gad, Ofdensen makes chicks sign paternity wavers before they can even see you."

"Paternity wavers? What ammnest 'dat?"

"It's complicated, that's why he deals with all that legal shit," the drummer explained as his fingers began drumming on the seat. He nodded to Toki and said, "He's the only one outta all of us who really doesn't fuck."

Toki scratched his head. "Fucks? What ams fucks mean?"

"I...uh..." Pickles felt his face turning red as he said, "Forget it."

They all grew silent. That's when an absurd—delicious-idea entered the drummer's mind. Why the hell not? Toki couldn't remember his past life anyway...Pickles swallowed and said loudly and confidently, "Yeah, and anyways, the girls don't really bother me none 'cause me an' Toki were always together..."

He said it offhandedly, just to see if it would work, if they would actually buy it. Just how clueless were they? Apparently very clueless, because in an instant they were all talking at once. Pickles ignored all of them, though, and only paid attention to Toki.

"What you means?"

"You know," he said under his breath, "you know we were together, right?"

"I...uh..."

Without hesitation, Pickles reached over and, biting back laughter, he wrapped his arms around Toki's waist. "You know, we were fuckin' together."

Toki arched a brow. "We were fuckings?"

"I...what?" He had just meant it as a bit of slipped profanity, but if the Norwegian was willing to believe as much as that, then the drummer would go along with him. "Yeah, sure."

This was too insane, too weird. Pickles didn't even really know why he was joking around like this, only that he actually liked it. Maybe it was because the memory of Toki lying in the street holding his hand had come racing back to him, or maybe it was because the Norwegian just looked so damn innocent and adorable.

"I mean, sure, yeah, we were fuckin' every damn night." he said loudly, scooting closer to Toki and draping an arm around his shoulders. The Norwegian accepted his touch with a shrug.

"Well, I guess if we were togethers..." and he leaned against Pickles and laid his head on his shoulder.

The drummer frowned, beginning to feel a little discomfort and embarrassment. He glanced over at Skwisgaar, Nathan, and Murderface. They all stared at him curiously. Pickles' face grew red, but he didn't shrug Toki off; there was something nice about this. He knew he shouldn't like it, that he was just joking, but somehow...somehow he did like it...

"So if you two are together—ain't 'dere words for 'dat?" Skwisgaar inquired, scratching his head. "Ja, I thinks it called faggot."

"Hey, don't call me a fag!" Pickles warned.

"Or what, dildo?"

"Or I'll...I'll beat you up...?" the words came out as almost a question. Skwisgaar laughed at this, and so did Nathan and Murderface.

"What did he shay?" Murderface lisped.

"He said he'd beat him up!" Nathan said, biting back more insane laughter.

"I will! I've put Skwisgaar in the haspital before," Pickles lied insanley, holding Toki closer in an effort to calm his rising anger. When everyone stared at him questioningly, he continued, "Yeah, and I've fuckin' killed Murderface too, so why don't everyone shut the fuck up?"

"I...wow." Nathan said. "I'm not sure I want to be in this fucking band anymore..."

"Yeah ya do," the drummer said, nodding. He ignored Toki as the Norwegian tried to discreetly kiss him on the cheek. "Yeah, and you'll see just how fuckin' brutal we are once we get to Mordhaus; we're goin' in the fucking recording studio, first thing."

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Chapter 1, Part 3

The Best In The World

An hour later, Dethklok had gathered in the recording studio like so many times before. Only now as Dick Knubbler stared at them from behind the glass, things were much different. Toki was standing next to Pickles, leaning against the wall lazily.

"Pickle, what ams I supposed to do again?"

"Just stand 'dere and look nice, okay?" he said before going over to Murderface. "Okay, whadda need help with?"

Murderface had interrupted the last recording. Now he glared at the drummer and said, "I don't know how to play thish thing."

"What're you talkin' about? Look, here," Pickles took the bass from him and imitated Murderface's normal pose that he used while playing. This made the bassist frown and arch a brow.

"Sho you're shaying that I shtand on shtage like a fag?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, call it what you want. And what about you, Skwisgaar? I didn't even hear your guitar on that last one. Toki is only the rhythm guitarist; he can't keep pickin' up your slack."

"Why can'ts I? You don't thinks I can dos it?" Toki asked, throwing down his guitar. Pickles hurried back over to him, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him in for a little kiss.

"No, okay, look. Just calm down so we can-"

"I have a problem with this whole...umm...situation." Nathan said. He put down his microphone and said in his deep voice, "I can't remember any of these fucking lyrics."

Pickles rolled his eyes, took and deep breath, and said thru clenched teeth, "Okay, look; I can't help all you guys at once. Nathan, we can try to sing this song called Hatredcopter, 'cause 'dats one where we can both sing it. Just keep up with me and follow my cues and-"

"I thought that you said that I was the singer."

"You are, but how're you gonna sing if you can't remember any of your lyrics?"

"I wants to try somethings," Toki blurted.

Pickles turned to him and asked impatiently, "Yeah, what?"

"I wants to be lead guitarist!"

"I...listen, you can't do 'dat."

His face fell. "But why nots?"

"Because you just—you can't." he sighed and went to sit at his drums again. "Fine. What the fuck do we have to lose? Go ahead and just play."

He braced himself to hear something truly atrocious, for Toki to start breaking guitar strings, but this didn't come. What did come was the full, heavy solo that had once belonged to Skwisgaar—Crush My Battle Opponent's Balls. He played it perfectly and ended it flawlessly. When he was done, everyone was staring at him with wide eyes, even Knubbler, whose voice came into the recording room.

"Hey, Pickles? Could you come back here and talk with me for a quick sec?"

He could only nod and stumble out of the room. Once he was with Dick Knubbler, he exclaimed, "What the fuck was that? That was great!"

The other man nodded. "I know!"

"Well what're we gonna do? Skwisgaar don't even remember how to play his fuckin' guitar no more..." Pickles' voice trailed off. Knubblers looked grave.

"You know what we gotta do, man."

He nodded then went out the door again. He wasn't as excited as before, and whenever he went back into the recording studio everyone was staring at him. "What?" Pickles asked.

"We could hears everything you two was sayings," Skwisgaar said, looking down.

"Oh...well how'd that happen?"

"The talk-back mic was on, dildo," Nathan answered, glaring at him. "And I've got to say that what you're doing is pretty fucking brutal."

Murderface nodded. "Yeah, I agree totally. I mean, throwing shomeone under the bush jusht sho you can record a shtupid album for shome extra money that you don't need..."

"How do you know how much money I need?"

"I knows 'cause you say that we most famous-skest band in world!" Skwisgaar said, pouting. Then he threw down his Gibson and proceeded to stomp out of the recording studio, saying, "Fucks it, stupids, dildos idiot!"

"Okay, we'll see you laters!" Toki said, grinning. Pickles frowned at this. He went up to the Norwegian and reached for his hand. It was soft, warm. Nice.

"Hey, how'd you remember that stupid solo anyways? I thought you couldn't remember anything."

He shrugged. "I just plays what happens."

This didn't really make much sense to Pickles, but then again, nothing much ever made sense to him, so without further hesitation he sat down at his drum kit and picked up his drum sticks. He beat them together once the announced, "Okay, so what we're gonna do now is...ah...well, since none of you know how to play anything anyways, you two—yeah, Nathan and Murderface—should get outta the studio right now and-"

"Uh Pickles, I don't think that that's such a hot idea," Dick Knubbler's said. Pickles peered back over and thru the glass and stuck up his middle finger.

"Fuck you too, then, you dildo! I'm in charge now, and I call the shots, so you can leave with 'dem! We don't need you here!"

"Pickle, maybe we shoulds-"

"No, no, Toki, that's fine, I'll just be going. Call me when you're ready to record some real music." Knubbler said, leaving the studio along with Nathan and Murderface.

Once they were gone, Pickles let out a sigh and breathed, "Finally." then he turned to Toki and grinned. He picked up a tequila bottle that he had put next to his drums and took a sip before offering the Norwegian some.

Toki declined. "No, you knows I don'ts—sure, what the fucks ever." and he reached forward, took the bottle, and took a long drink. Pickles watched him, his eyes wide and hungry.

He didn't catch the first part of the guitarist's sentence—No, you knows I don'ts—and if he had he might've asked how Toki knew what he usually did in the first place. He didn't, though. He was too busy getting to his feet, taking the bottle back, and wrapping his arms around Toki's shoulders. He leaned close to him and said softly, "You know what I wanna do?"

"I...uh, ja, Pickle?"

He sounded fearful, almost scared. Pickles acknowledged this, and instead of saying what he actually was thinking he suggested, "I'm think about kissin' you right now."

It was insane, really. He hadn't always felt this attraction to Toki, but it seemed to him that he had almost lost the Norwegian in the crash. He had lost some part of him to a degree—referring, of course, to his memory—but perhaps he could fix him. Pickles trembled at the thought of fixing him. He'd never fixed anything before in his life, only made it worse, but it seemed that just being with Toki turned his luck around...turned his whole world around.

He leaned forward and kissed Toki right on the lips again and again. His breath smelled strongly of tequila, but Toki didn't seem to mind as he wrapped his legs around the drummer's hips and began kissing him feverishly, as if it was the last thing he'd ever be able to do. This surprised Pickles, made him become motionless for a moment, but he soon regained his senses and fell back against his drum kit, accepting Toki's shower of affection.

"T-Toki, you don't mind it, huh?"

"Minds what?" he panted, pulling away from him for a second.

Pickles swallowed and said, "Mind it if I give you a solo?"

"Oh my Gods, I loves you!" he blurted. It was clear, though, that he really didn't truly love Pickles like that—it was just the sort of casual 'I love you' that friends sometimes exchanged. Still, it was quite a change form the band's old no-emotion-brutality thing.

Pickles accepted another long, deep kiss on the lips before he nodded and said, " 'Cause honestly, I always thought you were better than that stupid dildo Skwisgaar, anyway."

Toki's eyes lit up. "Reallys?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Wowee, you ams so greats! I know why we was always togethers now!"

The drummer chuckled and turned a light shade of pink at this. "I...uh, right—always together. Anyways, I think that now you're the best guitarist in the world."

"You means it?"

"Yep."

Toki let out a squeal of delight and hugged Pickles tightly before releasing him and saying, "You knows what I wants to do? I wants to do something really good for you—like you ams doing for me right now."

"Okay, what?" he asked nervously.

The Norwegian grinned and suggested innocently, "Somethings really, really nice, but I gots to wait..."

"What?" Pickles said, let down. "Why?"

" 'Cause we gots to have bed first, stupids!"

"Oh, 'dat."

His previous visions of Toki came rushing back to him, and the drummer tried not show it—he tried not to show just how hot picturing Toki naked was making him. Then he put his hands behind Toki's back and forced him close up against the wall. Toki grinned and let Pickles kiss him some more.

"Oh, this ams nice, Pickle. You kiss good."

"Yeah, I know."

"I likes you a lot."

He gave him one of his characteristic half-smiles and said, "That's nice, 'cause we're together, right?"

Toki nodded and put his hands in the pockets of Pickles' pants. It was an odd gesture, but neither really cared much. Having Toki that close to him just made Pickles' face grow hot. He went to kiss the Norwegian again, but this time Toki pulled away and said, "Nu-uhs. We still haves all later todays, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"And tonights I ams sleepings in your room?"

"Yeah, I guess s—wait a minute, you're what?"

"I ams sleepings in your room, right?" Toki inquired. "Ain't that what peoples do when they're togethers?"

Pickles' head was spinning as he nodded. "Uh-huh, fuck yes. Yes, yes, yes! That's what people do, yes!" he was nearly cheering it now, excited for what it meant. Toki laughed at this.

"You ams a little too excited, Pickle." then he jumped out of Pickles' arms and went out the door, saying cheerfully, "And tonights, I gives you the best present ever for my solo."

But secretly Pickles already thought that he had the best present ever; he had Toki, he had Dethklok, he had the money—what could go wrong now?

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**A/N**

Awww that's a cute chapter, huh? Hope you enjoyed it and review it. I would love you for reviewing it. This story's been sitting on my flashdrive collecting dust for a few months, so I decided to finally bite the bullet, finish it, and proofread it. Also, I think it's worth mentioning that yes, Pickles will say things like 'aff' instead of off and 'jab' instead of job, but he has an accent, so that's how I'll type him. No, it's not me being stupid and misspelling things.

Peace, Love, TOKI/PICKLES